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cherry-velvet-skies · 1 month

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Marigolds In The Porch Lights (18+)

Gardener!George Harrison × GN!Reader

Genre: Smut (FINALLY), but also some Fluff and Angst

Warnings: A poor attempt at a shower sex scene, unprotected sex (ALWAYS USE PROTECTION, Y'ALL), and some kinda twisted feelings I guess idk these two are just constantly teasing each other

Words: 6.4k (I had so much fun with this y'all)

Summary: 1971 era; SEQUEL TO STRAWBERRY LEMONADE; George and Reader finally have their time together; also Geo is not famous in this so I guess it counts as AU lol

A/N: MUST READ STRAWBERRY LEMONADE FIRST FOR THIS TO MAKE SENSE! But honestly the amount of requests I got to make a sequel, anyone who's here has probably already read S.L. (also thank you for all the requests! <3)

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One week had gone by since the blossoming of your new relationship with George, and you could not stop thinking about him. Calling him during the week just for your own pleasures seemed rather selfish, so you forced yourself to wait the full week until his next Saturday gardening job. After all, that wouldn’t be fair to his personal schedule, now would it?

Now, here it was, the fateful Saturday afternoon, and the anticipation was swarming you. You knew that you were always his last appointment of the week, and you would have him all to yourself from now until the sunset. You contemplated walking outside naked to greet him, but quickly remembering that neighbors exist, the idea was obligated to fade away. You still wished you could, though.

You left the gate unlocked, allowing him to let himself in. He was so caring of your space, taking time to lock the gate behind him so as not to allow the opportunity of any unwanted guests. You waited by the patio for him, prepared with another plate of fresh strawberries and a cold glass of lemonade. You made enough for two this time, specifically if those two were going to be staying together for a while.

Upon George’s entry, he eyed the fruity treats reminiscent of his previous time here. Instead of helping himself to a snack, he approached you to place a patient kiss upon your lips, wrapping an arm tightly around your waist as he did so. His other hand held his gardening toolkit, keeping it at his side while you deepened the kiss. George was almost ready to drop the bag and take you in his arms, but felt he should at least accomplish what you’re paying him for first.

“How have you been?” You started, having a bit more courage to talk to him this time. He laid out his tools as he knelt in the grass.

“Doing what I normally do, I guess.” He replied absentmindedly, “Though I was excited to get back here and see how the strawberry seeds are doing.” He flashed you a cheeky grin, and your shoulders instantly floated down to a more relaxed stance. George wasn’t big on expressing his true feelings directly, but he had his own ways of getting his point across. You slowly drifted off, listening to his voice as he spoke, until he stopped, and you realized he was waiting for you to answer his question.

“Pardon?” You squeaked, causing George to tilt his head in confusion.

“You have been watering the strawberries, right?” He repeated, gesturing to the empty space beside him, “The soil looks moist, so I’d say they’re doing well.”

“Oh! Yes,” You giggled, “I purchased a book on how to care for them the morning after you planted it.” A wide smile spread on George’s face, giving you a short nod and happily moving on to the next patch of flowers. You wore a scarlet colored dress today, planning for him to give you a matching rose from your garden. You concluded that you were the one who could determine which type of flower you receive by the color you chose to wear that day. You weren’t sure if George was also aware of this arrangement, or he just enjoyed finding flowers for you too much to notice.

You had treated this time you spent with George almost like your first date. You wanted to know everything there is to know about him, no matter how minor. In the hours that he had been there, you learned that George also knew how to play guitar, and he enjoyed writing songs, but was never really interested in the life of fame and performing to the public, so he preferred not to pursue it. Being a gardener and getting as much time in nature as he could was more than enough to make him happy.

The time went faster than you both wanted it to, partly because this time felt like you had known each other for years. George had even taken the time to show you how to tend to certain flowers, as the rules differed based on the type of plant. He showed you all his tools, demonstrating how to use them and the best places to start to preserve the flowers, as well as any of his personal favorite natural additives to help the flowers grow. You now knew that adding common household items, such as white vinegar or banana peels can give your flowers a speed boost. George even explained how ground coffee could be beneficial to the soil if you decided to start growing vegetables. His wide range of knowledge was better than any purchasable book could provide.

Before you knew it, the sky was growing orange, and the sunset was upon you. More time to spend with George aside from his occupational responsibilities was not completely out of the question, so you hadn’t lost hope yet. That is, until you saw him reach for his bag to start packing up his tools.

“You’re leaving?” You blurted out, not wanting to sound desperate but your body not even giving you a chance to consider your words. “You just got here!”

George glanced down at his watch, eliciting a small chuckle. “I’ve been here for three hours, love.”

“Well it felt like three seconds to me.” You pouted, crossing your arms and slumping back against the tree you were sitting under. “And you said we would do more together next time! That’s what you said the last time you were here!”

“And we did, didn’t we?” George replied, not missing a beat. “Last time, there was much more uncomfortable silence. This time, we had a wonderful conversation.” He paused to remove his gloves and place them in the pocket on the side of his bag, slowly rising from where he was seated in the grass. “That’s a pretty big improvement, don’t you think? It’s something I can cherish, especially since we won’t be seeing each other next week.”

Your eyes widened. Initially, you weren’t sure if you had heard him correctly, but it was true. First you had missed out on quality time with George and now next week he wasn’t going to come by? You felt your heart sink, trying your hardest to keep the tears from escaping your eyes.

“Why not?” You whined, a little louder this time. You didn’t want to sound like you were throwing a tantrum, but it was difficult when that was exactly what you wanted to do.

“I’ll be out of town next weekend.” George replied matter-of-factly, “I’m going to visit my family as one of my relatives is getting married. The wedding is on Saturday, so I’ll be gone the whole weekend.”

You wanted to cry. You wanted to scream. You wanted to do anything that would make him stay. But why? He didn’t do anything wrong, but your impression of how the day would go when he got here was a lot different than how it actually went down. You felt like you were lied to, except that you weren’t. Last week, George said that you would ‘make more time for each other’ this time, and technically, you did. He never said what that time was going to be spent on. Perhaps you two had different ideas as to what his return would bring. But instead, you tightened your chest, putting away that tantrum for your alone time later.

“But I thought-” You stopped yourself, knowing that telling George what you really wanted could potentially lead to unwanted results, especially if he didn't feel the same way.

“Thought what?” George asked, staring at you as you mentally cursed yourself for popping a corner of the lid on Pandora's Box. “Did you have a plan for today?” He was too clever. There was no going back now.

“Well…” You started, feeling a blush creep up onto your cheeks, “Sort of…”

“Oh?” He teased, the sunset casting a brilliant sparkle on those dark brown eyes, “Well, come on then. Out with it.” You pursed your lips, shifting your gaze to the floor. George leaned in closer, the coarse hairs of his mustache brushing against the shell of your ear. “So long as we're pretending I don't already know.”

He knew what you wanted. He was going to make you say it.

You stood concerningly still, almost frozen. It was a battle of wits, but you weren't exactly sure if you wanted to win or lose. If you gave up now, and spilled your guts, would you get what you wanted? Or would George continue to string you along, making you wait anyway just to see you squirm?

George sighed, looking at his watch again. “Well,” he huffed, feigning annoyance, “if you have nothing else to say, I suppose I should be going now.” He kissed your cheek, wedging his hand into your own to leave his complementary petal before making his way to the gate. You couldn't even look at him as he left, feeling too embarrassed. Instead, you looked down at your hand. A rose petal, no surprise. You were about to head inside until you heard George call your name. You partially turned around, still feeling rather conflicted. He was standing on the other side of the gate, pointing towards the patio.

“I'd turn that light on if I were you. It gets rather dark out here.” He waited for you to respond. You slowly nodded, approaching the back stairs. And with that, he got in his car and drove off.

You flipped the switch, watching as the porch light came on. It was a glimmering golden yellow hue, expanding its beam about halfway through the garden. You weren't sure why George told you to put it on, but it did make the garden look brighter. Even when you were angry with him, you would still do whatever he wanted you to.

But why were you angry? George hadn't done anything wrong. You knew he was teasing you, but you didn't care. In fact, there was a part of you that liked it. You felt like he was playing with you without even touching you. Wrapped so tightly around his finger that you felt like it was your life force. It strangled you in the best way possible. Like an invisible leash secured around your neck, and he could pull you wherever he wanted. You were completely and truly captivated by him.

Slipping quietly into the house, you felt like you wanted to cry. The anger had subsided and was soon replaced by a persistent longing. Your disdain towards having to go two weeks without seeing George wasn’t even due to the fact that you were crazy about him. It had become a routine. At this point, you wished you hadn’t been so shy to start a conversation with him the first three times he showed up. That you hadn’t waited until just this previous week. Maybe things would be different now. Maybe you’d be closer.

You didn’t know where to go from there. Part of you accepted this as what it was, and you would see George eventually, while another part of you felt defeated that you wanted to do something about this when you knew you couldn’t.

When you woke up the next morning, your house felt quieter, despite you having always lived alone. Almost like George had been staying in the guest room this whole time unbeknownst to you. Perhaps he was a frequent visitor to the guest room in your brain.

You spent the rest of your weekend like any other weekend: it was another gorgeous spring day, and you loved to sit out on the patio and catch up on your reading while you enjoyed your lunch or an afternoon snack, hearing the faint melodies coming from your living room of whatever record you put on for the occasion. It was the only time you actually preferred being alone. Perhaps it was the only activity potent enough to fill the void of your longing for George.

When night came again, you headed inside, about to shut the patio door when you swore you heard a voice.

I’d turn that light on if I were you.

You froze, but briefly shrugged it off as being in your head. You looked outside, barely being able to see your garden, but knowing it was only your subconscious. You shut the door, turning to walk away until you heard it again.

It gets rather dark out here.

You sighed. Even when George wasn’t around, you felt like he was right beside you. You weren’t sure if you wanted to laugh or cry, so you released a noise that sounded like a mixture of both as you flicked the porch light on, not paying it another thought as you headed to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

Monday morning. You dreaded it more this week for some unknown yet obviously known reason. The past few weeks, you would just think about your weekend with George to get you through the boring parts of the day. But since this weekend did not pan out like you thought it would, there wasn’t much to occupy your mind. That was the hard part about all this. George didn’t have a typical nine-to-five. He would have gardening sessions scattered throughout his day. Sometimes he would be booked solid, and other days would be quick appointments for treatments, leaving more time for his personal schedule. Even if you wanted to meet up with him during the week, your strict schedule prevented you from having any time with him. Maybe something could’ve been worked out eventually, but the current state of your brain would not settle for that. You wanted him and you wanted him now.

When you got home that night, the feeling had not left. It was more manageable while you were away, but you felt like you were coming home to a house that was once full of life, only to no longer harbor that same feeling. You had never realized how much life George brought to your daily routine even when you didn’t live together. For a moment, you wondered why this was affecting you so much. Perhaps you were overreacting. You would see George again. It would just be longer than usual until you did. You released a heavy sigh, a sliver of hope that you could push this feeling out of your mind, for at least a little while, had begun to show itself.

Until night fell. You glanced at the back door.

The porch light.

That fucking porch light.

The entire time you lived here, you barely even acknowledged its existence. But ever since George made you aware of it, you think of it every night. Subconsciously, you thought maybe if you were consistent in putting it on every night, he would come back. He would find his way to you, sensing your desire to see him, and you would never be apart again. Never be alone again.

You turned it on again, simultaneously hopeful in your delusional scenario and growing impatient at how long your heart wanted to keep up the act.

The next morning, going by the door to shut the light felt like a walk of shame. What were you waiting for? George had his own schedule. His own life. He would see you when he could. You couldn’t help but start thinking if George was missing you as much as you were feeling every day was so bleak without him.

But yet, that night, you turned the porch light on again. Feeling an overwhelming, compelling urge to stay, you opened the back door, stepping out onto the patio. You stared up at the light, admiring the wonderful golden hue of the small bulb inside its painted glass shade. The shade was brushed in bright yellow, matching the bulb and some other accents of the house’s exterior decor. It seemed so much more prominent at night. It was the only thing visible from far away. A sign of life in the home. You smiled at the thought. You would’ve probably never got around to use it if it wasn’t for George. He truly did bring new life into your home.

Thanks to the light, you could see the first few rows of flowers in your garden surrounding the large tree in the center of the yard. This was your gradient row, as you loved to refer to it as. The row where George had taken many creative liberties, creating a smooth-flowing spectrum of colors around the tree like a color wheel. The warm tones faced the house, showing you your lovely spread of roses, tiger lilies, and marigolds.

The marigolds reminded you of the light. Bright, yellow, and outstanding. It was also one of the only few flowers in your garden that George had not given you petals from. You turned back to the light. You decided it could be your marigold petal. At least for now.

You didn’t stay long. You quickly returned inside, shuffling briskly back down the hall, trying to make it to the bathroom before the tears dripped off your face and down onto the floor.

The following morning, as your fingers brushed against the switch to turn off the light, you let out a loud sob. It had rained in the middle of the night, and the sight outside the back door, one of gray overcast and a messy, muddy garden, made it all feel much too real. You couldn’t hide it anymore. You missed George. Oh, how you missed him. One day a week wasn’t enough anymore. You needed more of him. So much more. More than your own mind, body, and soul would ever know.

You considered taking off work today, as your mangled emotions were surely draining your energy. But realizing that staying home would only twist the knife further, you conceded. It was almost as if any choice that life could make would've been wrong in your eyes. Whether you went to work or stayed home, you felt uncomfortable. If the work day went quickly, you were dreading coming home to face your feelings again. Yet, if the day dragged on, you groaned at the thought of having to endure more time until your fateful reunion with George. You were incessantly unsatisfied. Insatiable, even. The only correct answer was George. You needed him to give you what he had promised you, whether he was waiting for you to admit it or not. At this point, you wouldn't have even cared if you sounded desperate. You were desperate. You didn't care if you had to call him right now and divulge everything you felt. How badly you wanted and needed him. Your brain was chasing a fierce addiction, and George was your dealer.

That night had been the hardest so far. You couldn't even bring yourself to walk down that hall. The light wasn't going to be some magical beacon to signal George. You felt like you were holding onto nothing. You didn't care if the light wasn't on tonight. It made no difference anymore.

You went to sleep early that night. Your main thought process was to sleep as much as you could to make the days go by faster. You didn't even want to think about this Saturday. Your soul felt like it was grieving. But grieving what? George didn't break up with you. Technically, the two of you never even established any sort of declaration of a relationship anyway. But you felt like you belonged together. You were his and he was yours. As sweet as the thought was, you quickly shoved it away as you felt your eyes welling with tears.

You turned on your side to try and sleep when you heard a noise outside. It sounded like a low thud, but fairly close to your house. You shrugged it off at first, until you heard it again a few minutes later, sounding closer this time.

You sat up in bed, overtaken by fear. Living alone, you always worried about having to fight off intruders. Luckily, nothing had ever come of it. Until now.

Grabbing a broom from your hall closet to arm you, you headed into the living room. Your first instinct was to check out the front window, being too scared to open the door.

You peered through the curtains, seeing nothing to the left or right of the door, the street only illuminated by the porch lights of your surrounding neighbors. Of course the universe had to think of a way to remind you of what you were desperately trying to put out of your head.

You closed the curtains, ready to go back to bed when you heard what sounded like wet footsteps coming from your back door.

Oh fuck.

If this really was an intruder situation, you were anything but prepared. You glanced at the back door, hiding behind the hall corner. With your breath held and your muscles stiff as the wooden boards beneath your feet, you took slow steps down the hall. You lurched forward to quickly lock the door, which you normally did anyway but forgot that night as you never actually made it to the door without crying.

Knowing that the lock was safely in place brought you some time. Being closer to the door, you heard another sloshing sound, as well as some angry muttering. With your luck, the intruder slipped on the wet and muddy grass and was now disoriented, leaving you time to- well, do what, exactly?

You hadn't thought this far. Do you call the police? Make a loud noise in retaliation in hopes to scare them away? Armor yourself with throw pillows to burst through the door and use your broomstick to beat them senseless? Your mind was racing. The most reasonable thing to do in that moment, although it hurt quite a bit, would be the answer to whether this was really a life or death situation.

You turned on the porch light.

When the illuminating glow hit the grass below, you saw a person laying there, covered in mud, clearly not anticipating the new biome that had been created in your backyard. You screamed, causing the person to immediately look up at you. Upon making eye contact, you felt your heart spring up into your throat before free falling down to your stomach. You threw open the door, feeling like you were being fled with a million emotions at once, all conflicting each other. You stood there in shock, only being able to choke out one single word.

“...George?”

“I thought I told you to keep that bloody light on! I almost broke my neck out here!” George shouted, but couldn't keep a straight face long enough to be convincing, dissolving into a puddle of laughs back onto the ground. You felt your whole body fill with happiness. You dropped the broom, running out into the yard, slippers and all, squealing all the way before landing on top of him, trapping him in a tight hug.

You kissed him faster than your brain could process what you were doing. The familiar feeling of his soft skin, luscious hair and beard, and plush lips made your whole being swell with euphoria. Your golden yellow silk pajamas were now full of mud, but it didn't matter. George was back here with you. And you didn't need anything else.

“You’re getting all muddy, love.” George giggled, pushing damp strands of hair away from your face.

“I don't care!” You shouted while laughing, pressing loud, wet kisses across his face and neck. George wrapped his arms around you, resting his hands on your waist. You pulled away, staring into his eyes. It may have been late at night, but you felt wide awake as ever. Before you even opened your mouth to speak, you knew there were tears dripping down onto your cheeks. “I didn't think I'd see you again for a while.”

“I planned to stop by before I left, but I didn't have much time during the day.” George confessed. “I wanted to surprise you, but I'm realizing it might have been a better idea in my head.” He looked around the yard, then at his muddy clothes, eliciting a light chuckle. “Thinking about it now, I probably should've called first.”

“I'm just so happy to see you.” You replied, not even hearing half of what he said. You heard he planned to come back for you, and that was all you needed to know. “But I'm guessing your plan involved you being able to see once you got back here. Hence the, you know, porch light.” You averted your gaze, adding a nervous laugh.

“First I tried hopping over the fence, and tripped over that.” George explained, staring back at the gate. “Then I tried to walk quietly, and slipped in that big puddle over there. Not to mention I tripped over the center gradient, so I apologize for that. I'll be sure to fix it the next time I'm around.” He added with a swift cup of your chin and a kiss to your lips. You looked at the tree, seeing the warm toned flowers slightly uprooted, tiny specks of dirt adorning their golden petals. Honestly, that didn't even matter to you. The image of George trying to sneak into your backyard and failing miserably made you erupt into laughter again.

“I suggest you have to get cleaned up now, don't you?” You asked, running a finger through the thick layer of mud adorning his jeans.

“Well, yeah, but I refuse to get your floors all dirty.” George declared. You helped him up off the ground, trying your best to smudge the dirt out of his hair, as well as your own.

“You can leave the clothes in the laundry room. I'll deal with them tomorrow.” You replied. George shot you a look, helping you brush some of the grass off your pajamas.

“So it's already been decided that I'm spending the night, then?” You smirked, not saying anything back. George smiled, sneakily pinching the skin on your waist. You squealed, playfully batting his hand away. You turned to walk back to the patio when he spoke again.

“Even after we get out of these filthy clothes, we still have to get ourselves clean, you know.”

You froze, a chill running through your spine, excitement filling your body. You whipped your head around, grabbing George’s hand and leading him to the stairs. You were about to open the door when he put his arm out to stop you.

“I know you're excited, love, but I still don’t want to bring all this mud into your clean house.” He seemed genuinely concerned by this issue, but at this point, nothing was going to stop you.

“Okay, fine. Easy fix.” You stated, slipping the straps of your pajamas off your shoulders, followed by your underwear. George’s eyes widened as he watched the silken fabric pool around your ankles, leaving you completely nude standing on the patio. The cool air of this particular spring night began to wash over your body, and you shivered slightly. You weren't sure if it was from the sudden breeze, or the tantalizing feeling of this whole situation, but either way, your nipples were completely hard.

Seconds later, George followed suit, removing his muddy shoes, followed by his equally sodden shirt and pants. He stopped at his underwear, feeling a flash of uncertainty. He was no stranger to being nude, but being nude while standing on the back porch of his lover’s house in the middle of their classy suburban neighborhood? That was a new one.

He turned back to you, taking in the sight before him. Seeing your fully bare form, taking one slow drag of his eyes over your lower half, he quickly shuffled off the remaining piece of clothing and tossed it on the floor with the rest. You opened the door, scooping your clothes up in one swift motion, walking a mere few feet and tossing them in the laundry room to be dealt with eventually. You couldn’t be bothered right now. George did the same, keeping his clothes in a neat pile right beside yours, placing his boots by the door. He stood there for a few seconds, gauging your readiness to proceed. With a smirk on your face, you grabbed his hand, leading him into the bathroom.

You opened the shower curtain and turned the water on, feeling the warm steam slowly fill the room. You adjusted the water to a comfortably neutral temperature before climbing inside, leaving space for George to join you. You stayed under the stream of water, allowing it to take its time to rinse all the mud off your arms and legs, and most of it out of your hair, leaving you with a fresher start before moving on to shampoo and soap. You looked over your shoulder at George, who now seemed rather chilly, so you switched places, allowing him to rinse off as well. He had been wearing more covering clothes than you, so there wasn’t much dirt he needed to get off his body, but his hair was a different story. He spent extra time using his fingers to comb through his beard, which seemed to be a prime target for all that grass and soil.

Getting started on washing your body, you had briefly turned away from George to grab your soap. Before you could open the container, you heard a low shudder coming from behind you. You looked at George, who was now staring at you, while sporting quite the erection. You giggled, lightly poking his stomach. “Am I taking too long for you?”

“You know, for someone who wanted me so badly outside, and is now teasing me about having to wait, you’re quite mad, aren’t you?” He stated, glancing down at himself while continuing to rinse his hair. You laughed louder this time.

“I figured we would clean up first.” You said innocently. He chuckled.

“Why do that when we’re just gonna get dirty again, love?”

You bit your lip, holding back a whimper, but the way your legs involuntarily began to clench shut gave it away immediately.

You nodded. “I see. Well let’s get it on then.”

The second you finished your statement, George wasted no time grabbing your waist and pressing his lips against yours. It was a hungry kiss. Passionate. Longing. It had confirmed he missed you just as much as you missed him. You put your hands in his hair, which was now much softer under the water. You were the one to take that passion further, feeling his lips part and allowing your tongue to enter his mouth. He seemed to thoroughly enjoy this, moving his hands from your waist down to your ass, kneading it softly yet with an impatient edge to it. You were tempted to hook one leg over his waist, but the slippery floor beneath you made you fearful of losing your balance, so you refrained. But you wouldn't have even had time to take action, as George quickly pulled away, spinning you around and pushing you up against the shower wall. You put your hands out, both of them splayed out on either side of your head as your cheek made contact with the cold tile. George grabbed your waist again, slowly grinding against you, slightly pressing you between the wall and himself. The contrast in temperature between the cool, flat surface and the steamy air made your head spin before he even did anything else. He leaned in closer, pressing a kiss to your earlobe.

“I think you've waited long enough, my beautiful flower.” You moaned softly at his statement as you felt him enter you. Slowly, savoring it just as much as you. It was a bit of a stretch, but you never found it painful. The combination of the warm water and your mutual arousal provided a decent amount of lubrication.

George continued to leave kisses around the shell of your ear and down to your neck, resting his chin on your shoulder. Once he was all the way in, he steadied himself before going any further. “You doing okay, love?” He cooed, patiently waiting for your response.

You sighed blissfully, softly nodding your head and letting out a low “mhm” while taking in all the sensations around you. The mix of everything made you whine in pure ecstasy, feeling so full in the best way possible, not wanting to say or move much in fear of losing your grip on it. You felt like you were in a different world, where it was only you and George, and nothing else mattered. However, you were not in the mood to be kept waiting either, feeling like you were holding your breath a bit, waiting for his next move. You took another deep inhale and exhale, releasing another moan in the interim. “It's okay,” you mumbled, “you can keep going.”

George nodded, starting with a soft, slow pace. Even with shallow thrusts, you were already in heaven. You quickly got lost in the rhythm, hearing his occasional breathy sighs directly into your ear. Hearing him enjoy it just as much as you were only turned you on more. And the more George fell into a rhythm as well, the faster he went. His thrusts became quicker and harder, pushing you up against the wall with each motion. Your moans had just become one long groan of pleasure, the way your nipples dragged across the cold wall with each thrust stringing you along even further.

When you felt that pressure start to build, you couldn't even form a coherent sentence to signal anything, the only word falling from your lips a meek “George...” before a high-pitched whining overtook you again. George shushed you softly, rubbing his thumbs along your waist as he brought you closer to the edge.

“I know, flower. I know.”

What felt like seconds later, you felt your orgasm crash over you, a noise that sounded like a mix between a moan and a scream flying from your mouth, proclaiming your everlasting love and worship of the man behind you, feeling yourself begin to slump against the wall, trying to catch your breath. George finished shortly afterwards, his grip on your hips tightening as he came inside you. He tilted his head back, a low, steady groan signaling his release. He had no choice but to use the wall for support as well, nearly falling on top of you after he slowly slid out. It was times like these you considered turning off the shower head and just filling up the bath instead, as your legs felt like jelly by this point, leaving you with minimal energy to hold yourself up.

Before you could say anything else, you felt George’s hands on you again, running his fingers through your hair. You smelled the familiar scent of your shampoo, feeling it glide through your hair as you closed your eyes again. He held you tenderly, guiding your head to the water, gently tilting it back to rinse the suds from your hair.

Once finished, he started on your body, massaging the soap all over your back, making sure to be careful around any areas that were currently more sensitive than usual. You sighed happily, feeling pampered like royalty, so grateful to have him here with you.

After a few minutes, your legs didn't feel like that of a newborn giraffe anymore, so you turned around to face George, pressing a soft kiss to his lips before taking the bar of soap. “I got it from here.” You giggled, finishing yourself off before starting to help him out as he eyed your shampoo. It wasn't what he used, but it smelled nice, and there wasn’t much of a choice in this situation. He chuckled before squeezing a small amount onto his palm, looking down as you lathered up his chest and stomach.

Once you both had thoroughly cleaned up, you turned off the water and stepped out, fetching some large fluffy towels and equally soft robes to only increase your level of comfort. By now, both of you were free of mud, partially dry, and ever so tired. Wasting no time to climb into bed, you snuggled up against George, resting your head on his chest.

“I'm so happy you came back.” You whispered, placing a kiss right over where his heart is. George giggled, caressing your arm.

“I would've always come back, flower.” He paused with a pensive sigh. “I enjoy every second I spend with you. You give me new life. A new purpose to an already wonderful experience.” You stared up at him, eyes wide in awe. It was the first time he had openly expressed his feelings to you without hiding them behind his usual cheeky humor. It was the most beautiful thing you had ever heard.

“You have no idea how special you are to me.” You beamed, craning your neck up to kiss his jawline, surprised when he turned his face and you landed on his lips instead.

“And you to me.” He replied. You enjoyed the streak of added sappy statements from George, but you knew it was a big step for him, judging by the deep breath he took afterwards, followed by a swift “Let's get some sleep, love.”

“Okay,” you agreed, “but let me just make sure I locked the back door first.” George nodded, getting comfortable on his side of your bed as you hopped out from under the covers, shivering again as the cool night air came back with a vengeance on your naked body. You quickly put your robe on and shuffled down the hall. You clicked the lock shut and went to go back to your room when you noticed something out of the corner of your eye. Something yellow.

You looked around until you spotted it again, sticking out of the side of George’s boot. Bending down to get a closer look, you moved the muddy laces and pulled it out. A tear almost fell down your cheek and you held it between your fingers. A petal from one of your precious marigolds, presumably stuck there when George tripped over them on the way in. You smiled warmly, feeling your heart soar at the idea that George can give you a petal every visit, even if he didn't realize it. Without saying anything, you put the petal in the pocket of your robe and made your way down the hall, trying not to disturb George as you quietly slipped back into bed.

==============================

IT'S FINALLY HERE Y'ALL 😄 I'm so happy I can share it and it was definitely a fun plot to continue!

Taglist: @peaceloveandstarrs @queen-of-stars @nosegoes @cocteautwiny @thatgoesinthere-misshapes

(If you want to be added to my taglist, feel free to send an ask and let me know! 🥰)

#george harrison #george harrison x reader #the beatles #beatles #the beatles x reader #the beatles fanfiction #beatles x reader #beatles fanfiction #george harrison fanfiction #george harrison imagine #george harrison x y/n #george harrison x you #george harrison smut

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ddejavvu · 3 months

Text

pairing: han solo x reader

summary: han knows how to reset your attitude

contents/warnings: based on the line 'you could use a good kiss!', condescension, brat!reader and subsequent brat taming, use of 'sister' as a pet name as he uses it for Leia in the movies (ie. not the way you'd use it towards an actual sibling), don't like don't read.

You call storming after the hotheaded captain through the corridors of his rickety ship justified, but Han calls it ridiculous.

"Han Solo," You call with a growl, you voice ragged and rough with indignation, "This is not what we agreed on!"

"You don't call the shots around here, sister," He lets out a deprecating bark of laughter at your anger, but his amusement fades the more doggedly you pursue him, "This is my ship, and I decide what we smuggle."

"And you've decided on rathtars?" You shriek, "They could massacre us all with only one tentacle, and they've got dozens!"

"That's why they're gonna be in cages," Han drawls, sounding for all the world like he's never been more exasperated, "C'mon, princess, y'think I'm stupid or something?"

"Pretty frequently, yeah!" You gush, ramming into his back when he stops in the doorway of his quarters. You haven't caught your balance yet when he whirls around, but he grips your jaw and leaves the steadying to you as he plants a firm kiss on your rage-stained mouth. There's not a whole lot of tongue, teeth, or anything kind, it's forceful and near-bruising. It's not a gesture of affection, it's a lecture, a chastisement, a scolding.

He breaks away and his eyes hold reproach as he levels a warning glare down at you, your face still held in his hands.

"There, crazy, 'that fix 'ya? I know what I'm doing, I wouldn't bring something onto the ship if I thought it was gonna kill us."

They're angry, you want to say, but Han's kiss has effectively silenced you, your jaw aching gently in his large hand.

He seems satisfied with this, knowing you wanted to fight but seeing that you'd chosen to secede, and leans in once more. This time it's a reward, a sweet, kind thing that he's happy to give you.

"Good." He decides, letting go and retreating into his quarters, knowing you'll follow at his heels the way you always do, "Just ignore 'em, baby. I'll do the dirty work, just pretend they're not even here."

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callie-the-creator · 9 months

Text

nsfw alphabet with…

cw. mdni.

a - aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

like any man after sex, he’s going to become incredibly tired and is bound to fall asleep a few minutes after you two are done. he needs it, especially after the hell he goes through whenever he goes on his archeological adventures. but in the small window of time before he goes to bed, he spends that time pampering you with love. he’ll shower your neck, shoulders, and chest in kisses while he has his strong arms wrapped around your body.

b - body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

it’s no secret that indy is a bit of a womanizer and in his years of experience, he has grown incredibly confident in his own skin. with that being said, i think to say that his favorite attribute of his has to be either his hair or…y’know…the schlong.

yours though? i think it’s safe to say that he’s a sucker for your beautiful eyes and thighs…hey, that rhymed!

c - cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

indiana would 100% respect your boundaries. you don’t want him to cum inside? that’s perfectly fine— is your chest a suitable substitute?

d - dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

n/a. sorry! i can’t really think of anything for him. i feel like he’d be an open book to you when it comes to all things sexual and wouldn’t want to hide anything from you.

e - experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

of course! indiana has lots of experience, so there is no need to worry when he’s taking care of you.

f - favorite position (this goes without saying)

missionary or doggy. i will not elaborate further.

g - goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

if he hasn’t been able to see or touch you in weeks or months because he’s out somewhere in the world on another one his adventures, by the time he gets back home he is not a force to be reckoned with. he would be deadly serious and a touch from you would calm him down in a heartbeat. of course, he has a goofy side to him. he is not afraid to be a bit corny.

h - hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

realistically, i think he’d try to keep it trimmed. he has a well amount of body hair, but nothing too overwhelming. if you don’t believe me, just look at his beautiful chest hair. awooga!

i - intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

it truly depends on his mood. indiana could praise and cherish you as if you were some sort of ancient deity one night and treat you the complete opposite the next.

j - jack off (masturbation headcanon)

yes, he does jerk off, not a lot, just when you’re not around to help. he mainly does it on his expeditions since you’re safe at home and he can rest easy knowing that you’re not about to get yourself hurt trying to retrieve whatever artifact he’s searching for. but the truth is that his hand pales in comparison to you…

k - kink (one or more of their kinks)

something tells me he has a ‘daddy’ kink. he’s fond of any name that gives him a sense of power and he also loves being called other things whether that is ‘sir’, ‘doctor’, or even ‘professor’.

l - location (favorite places to do the do)

strictly the bedroom, but if you’re nice and persuade him long enough, then maybe he’ll have some fun with you in his office.

m - motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

nothing folds his man quicker than seeing you in a skirt or even a nice dress. though…he will admit that he just loves seeing you get all coy and shy around him. you not to mention the noises you make when he fucks you get him even more hard than he already is, especially little high pitched squeaks you struggle to hold in but they escape past your lips nonetheless.

n - no (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

no blindfolds, handcuffs, fearplay, or anything like that. indiana has been captured times countless times and evaded many foes. going into the things listed before would throw this man for a major loop.

o - oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

indiana finds oral a little weird at first, but you were able to change his mind real quick. he usually prefers to receive but always makes sure you’re satisfied, whether you cum on his tongue, his fingers, or his cock. but he’ll have you have free range when you’re going down on him, but when it’s his turn? he’ll make sure to be gentle with you…unless you prefer him to be a bit rough with you. he is at your very command.

p - praise (are they complementary toward their partner?)

oh, absolutely! you already know this man is going to call you every pet name in the book when you two are making love. honey, sweetheart, you name it.

q - quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

i am a firm believer that indiana would take his time with you. so, no funny business! while he doesn’t necessarily support the idea, he definitely won’t reject the idea if you were to offer.

r - risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

no. nope. absolutely not. he’s a professor, for goodness sake! he has a reputation to uphold. of course, if you were abroad on a vacation, trip, or adventure…then that’s another story entirely.

s - stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

in a row? indiana usually go one or two before he passes out, but he makes it for in stamina. he’ll probably fuck you until the break of dawn if you were to give him the proper chance.

t - toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

n/a. i am not knowledgeable in sex toys from this time, so i don’t think i can really answer this part. sorry!

u - unfair (do they like to tease their partner?)

hohoho, you’re in a wild ride. indiana can be a huge tease when he wants to be, he enjoys how dependent you are on him for pleasure and sometimes he’ll leave you on the edge just to hear you whine and beg for him. he’s a master at knowing when you’re just about to finish and he’ll pull back while you shake, so close it hurts.

v - volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

i don’t think he’s all that loud. in fact, i think mainly narrows down to grunts and lots of praises (bonus points if his voice cracks or is raspy in the moment).

w - wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

n/a. i got nothing…

x - x-ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture, or words)

in terms of length, i would say that indiana is slightly above average.

y - yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

about average, but with all those expeditions away from you? it might as well have increased his sex drive because he can’t stop thinking about you. he needs to focus! those artifacts aren’t going to find themselves, after all.

z - zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

as i said before, it doesn’t take long…i’ll give it abouuuut…5 minutes tops.

#indiana jones #henry jones jr #harrison ford #indiana jones x reader #indiana jones imagine #indiana jones smut #indiana jones x you #smut #indiana jones fic #indiana jones/reader #raiders of the lost ark #the temple of doom #the last crusade #the crystal skull #the dial of destiny #classic

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jahayla-parker · 1 year

Text

TikTok Prank Preference: Stuck Tampon

Description: blurb preference with the characters/people below based on the viral TikTok prank where the person pretend they have a tampon stuck and need their partner to help them to see how they react.

Warnings: mentions of period related items and topics, minimally suggestive words, otherwise fluff

Characters/people for this preference: Tom Holland, Peter Parker, Harry Holland, Sam Holland, Harrison Osterfield, Freddy Carter, Kaz Brekker, Jesper Fahey, Cardan Greenbriar, Aaron Warner Anderson, Pin Hawthorne, and Austin Butler

Tom Holland

“Tomm…” y/n mumbled.

Tom peaked his head into the bathroom, eyes meeting her’s instantly.

“I… uhhh…. I have an issue” she whispered.

Tom raised his eyebrow at her and stepped into their bathroom, closing the door behind him

“What’s happening love?” He asked, grabbing her hand.

“So… uhh… I’m on my period…” y/n explained slowly.

Tom nodded, “did you need me to go to the store?”

Y/n smiled at how sweet he was but shook her head, looking away.

“Okay, then what is it darling?” He asked, using his thumb to lift her head back up to look at him.

“I… my tampon is… stuck” she said, looking out the corner of her eyes nervously.

“Oh” Tom said breathlessly but quickly pulled himself together, “okay. Let’s figure this out”.

“Wait, what?” Y/n asked, looking back at him with sad eyes.

“Love, it’s alright” he cooed, stroking her cheek, “we’ll get it out hmm?”

She gave him a thankful smile to which he responded by kissing her forehead delicately and lifting her onto the bathroom counter.

“So… just talk me through it yeah?” He asked shyly.

“Tom” she blushed, reaching forward to stop him.

“Darling, nothing to be shy about, I’ve seen it all before, and it’s not your fault it’s stuck” he encouraged.

Y/n giggled, burying her head into his shoulder.

She pulled back and pointed to her camera, “it’s a TikTok prank babe”.

Tom huffed, his cheeks reddening as he lifted her back to the ground.

“I couldn’t resist, but you were so sweet” she smiled, kissing his cheek.

Tom blushed more, wrapping his arm around her waist, “just as long as you know you can come to me if that really happened”.

Peter Parker

“Ummmm Peter?” Y/n called, walking into their apartment’s living room.

Peter looked up from his laptop and gave her a bright smile and nodded.

“So I uhh… Nevermind I’ll ask MJ” she rambled, looking down and playing with her hands.

Peter sighed, quickly setting his laptop to the side and walking to his girlfriend.

“Why MJ?” He frowned, pulling her to him.

Y/n laughed nervously, “it’s.. a girl thing Peter”.

“Oh” he whispered, his cheek warming up as it rested on her shoulder.

“Well maybe I can still help?” He offered, drawing shapes on her back through his sweatshirt she was wearing.

“Oh, thank you Peter” she said, squeezing him, “but I don’t think you’re going to want to do that”.

“Sure I do!” Peter gasped, pulling back to show his offended facial expressions.

Y/n bit her lip, “Peter…”

Peter’s frown deepened as he whined, “please let me help?”

“Peter-“ y/n began slowly.

“Please, I’ll do my best! I w-“ He argued.

“Peter, my tampon is stuck!” She blurted, cutting him off.

Peter’s eyes widened and his cheeks turned so red they’d have blended in with his Spider-Man suit if he had it on.

“Oh… okaay… umm…” Peter rambled anxiously.

“I’ll just call MJ and -“ y/n suggested.

Peter shook his head rapidly, “no, no. I’ll figure this out. Let me research this”.

“What?! What’re you looking up?” Y/n gasped as Peter rushed to his computer.

“The best way to help get a stuck tampon out” Peter said simply, typing away.

“Babe” y/n giggled, resting her hand on his over the keyboard.

“This article says I can simply use my hand, so-“ Peter began, reading off the instruction from the website he clicked on.

“Peter” y/n said, kissing his cheek, “it was a prank”.

“What?” He asked, turning to face her.

“It is a TikTok trend Pete; if it helps, you passed” y/n shrugs with a smile.

Peter shook his head, “of course I did, I wasn’t going to just leave it in there”.

Y/n laughed and pulled him to her for a hug.

Harry Holland

“Baz! Can you come here please?” Y/n shouted.

Harry knocked before slowly opening the bathroom door, “love?”

“I need your help” she stated, causing an instant wave of confusion to take over his features.

Harry rubbed the back of his neck, “with?”

Y/n looked away from him as she slowly sat on the closed toilet lid, “my tampon is stuck Baz”

Harry froze, staring at her in shock as he opened and closed his mouth silently.

Y/n looked up as he started to exit the bathroom, “are you just leaving me here?”

“Don’t be dramatic” Harry scoffed, “I’m getting reinforcements “.

Y/n jumped up, grabbing her phone and running to catch up with him, “reinforcements?!”

“Love I don’t know what to do, but I’m sure mum does” Harry explained, grabbing his phone from where he abandoned it on the couch moments ago.

“No!” Y/n laughed, taking the phone from his hand.

“Y/n, I’m clueless on this” Harry groaned, reaching for his phone.

“That’s fine cause it’s a prank” y/n informed him, giving him a cheesy grin.

Harry stared at her, trying to see if she was lying or not.

He smirked, grabbing his phone back from her, “you can never be too sure”.

“Holland don’t you dare!” Y/n gasped, putting her phone down as she chased her boyfriend around their flat.

Sam Holland

“Darling?” Sam called, knocking on their bathroom door.

Y/n had intentionally sat in the bathroom for far longer than normal, waiting to see if he noticed.

“I… I’ll be out soon” y/n breathily laughed.

Sam sighed softly, “are you okay?”

Y/n bit her lip as she took one last deep breath to compose herself for the prank.

“Y-yeah Sammy. I’ll be out soon.. okay?” She asked quietly.

“Y/n, can I come in?” He asked, resting his hand on the door handle.

“Why?” She asked with a fake panic.

Sam laughed nervously, “because you’re scaring me honey, can I please come in?”

“Umm one sec” y/n shouted, making a lot of noise and running the sink.

She held a towel in her hands as she opened the door for her boyfriend with a sheepish smile.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked, surveying the bathroom for clues.

“Nothing” she said, looking away as she hung the towel up.

“Darling,” Sam warned softly, grabbing her hand.

She sighed, peering up into his eyes, “my tampon is… stuck”.

Sam’s mouth opened slightly before he nodded.

“How do I help? Should I get ummm” he rambled, his eyes darting around the room, “ooh! Tongs?”

“No! You’re not using tongs down there Sam!” Y/n gasped, laughing.

Sam thought for a moment and then nodded in agreement, “Turkey baster?”

Y/N’s jaw dropped, “what?!”

“You know… the suction? It could pull it out” Sam shrugged.

“No kitchen utensils!” Y/n sighed, rubbing her head.

Sam bit his lip, “okay, well I’m coming up with ideas, you tell me one then”.

“Sam your ideas all involve medieval torture” y/n joked, “thank god it was a prank!”

Sam let out a sigh of relief before crossing his arms over his chest, “you were pranking me?”

Y/n giggled shyly and nodded, “good thing too cause now I know who not to come to!”

Haz (Harrison) Osterfield

“Okay, okay, go” y/n giggled, shoving Charlotte back to their living room, “he’ll be home soon”.

Charlotte laughed and raced back, throwing herself on her brother’s couch to wait.

Y/n set up her phone’s camera in the corner between their towel rack and toothbrush holder.

“Darling?” Harrison called out, “Charlotte says you’ve been in there a while”.

Y/n suppressed her laughter over the fact Charlotte wasn’t supposed to even say anything but was clearly eager.

“Ummm yeah, sorry” y/n sighed, making Harrison knock on the door.

“I’ll be out. I just… need a minute “ y/n lied.

“I’m coming in love” Harrison said, slowly opening the door so she had the chance to stop him.

Harrison walked to her, wrapping his arms around her waist, “are you just hanging out in here?”

Y/n laughed and slapped his arm playfully, “of course not”.

“Well, you’re completely dressed and standing alone in the bathroom, what else am I to expect?” Harrison teased, brushing some hair from her eyes.

Y/n rolled her eyes, “it’s not that”.

“Then what is it?” Harrison asked, his voice sounding concerned again.

“Do you really want to know?” Y/n asked as she bit her lip.

Harrison looked and ensured the bathroom door was shut before nodding, “of course”.

“My… tampon… is… well, it’s stuck” y/n muttered.

“In you?” Harrison blurted without thinking.

Y/n laughed and sighed, “yeah, duh”.

Harrison shook his head to focus, quickly stepping back and grabbing her shoulders, “okay… let me think”.

“It’s okay, I -“ y/n began but he shook his head.

Harrison’s eyes snapped to her’s as an idea formed in his mind, “okay, I got it”.

Y/n raised an eyebrow questioningly at him.

“Sit here” he said, pressing onto the wall of the bathtub.

“Umm what?” Y/n asked quietly, doing as he said.

“I will kneel down and we’ll get this fixed” he offered.

Y/n grinned, leaning forward and kissing him, “I love you Haz, but that’s not needed”.

Harrison rolled his eyes, “it’s not a big deal, just-“

She laughed, cupping his cheek with her hand, “it’s a TikTok prank baby”.

Harrison looked around for the camera, noticing it just as y/n pointed it out.

“You’re lucky I love you” he teased, grabbing the camera.

“Clearly” she grinned, making him blush.

Freddy Carter

“Love, I got your text, where are you?” Freddy asked as he entered their flat, setting the groceries on the floor by the front door.

“Bathroom” y/n mumbled, Freddy noticing the shyness in her voice.

“You said you need help?” He asked, knocking on the door.

“Come in please Freddy” she whispered.

Freddy opened the door, walking to her and grabbing her hand, “what’s happening?”

Y/n giggled, rubbing a hand over her face in embarrassment, “I managed to get my tampon… stuck”.

Freddy bit his lip as he watched her look up at him innocently.

She sighed with a smile, “I know”.

Freddy laughed softly, “good, well done love”.

Y/n rolled her eyes at his typical line when she made a fool of herself, and crossed her arms.

“Alright, alright “ he said, composing himself, “it’s no longer funny. How can I help love?”

Y/n bit her lip and shrugged, “it’s really stuck. I’ve tried for like twenty before texting you”.

“Pretty girl, why didn’t you call me? I would’ve come faster to help” Freddy sighed, guiding her to the toilet.

“It’s awkward” y/n mumbled.

Freddy delicately pushed her to sit down, kissing the top of her head, “no it’s not, now I’m going to need you to lower your trousers and then -“

“Freddy-“ y/n said, grabbing his hand.

Freddy looked down at her and nodded as he waited for an explanation for her hesitation.

“I really appreciate you baby, but it’s just a TikTok prank, Amita suggested it” y/n giggled, squeezing his hand.

Freddy paused for a moment, “alright, so you’re okay?”

Y/n stood up before him, kissing his cheek, “yeah, thank you”.

Freddy laughed and shook his head, “good, now help me with the groceries?”

Kaz Brekker

“Inej, no” y/n sighed, annoyed that in her drunken state Jesper convinced her to have you prank Kaz.

“Why?” Inej whined.

“Because you know how he is with touch” y/n argued firmly.

“He doesn’t have to actually touch tou, just see how he’d try to help or if he’d ignore it “ she pressed.

“Inej, no” y/n repeated, standing up and walking to Kaz’s room.

She frowned upon seeing the room was empty but she sat down at his desk anyways and grabbed the book next to her.

When Kaz entered his room, he hesitated for a moment, seeing y/n resting her head in a book on his desk.

He tried to tell himself that while her posture showed she was uncomfortable it was due to her position not what Inej told him.

Kaz wasn’t sure why Inej had told him such a personal matter in the first place, but he knew she was unusually drunk.

As y/n seemed to notice his presence, she shifted in her seat to stretch and loosen her muscles from the bad position she was in.

But Kaz took it as a sign that Inej was correct.

He sighed, slowly walking to y/n as she smiled at him.

Kaz paused just before her and his eyes ran up and down her body as he tried to think of a plan to help her without touching her.

He knew it was futile but he couldn’t ignore it either, especially after Inej went into vigorous detail about what could happen if the tampon was left inside y/n too long.

“Kaz?” Y/n asked, noticing his higher than normal level of apprehension.

“I… I don’t think I can do it y/n” Kaz sighed, his eyes on his gloved hands.

“Do, what?” She pressed, staring at him in confusion.

“Help you” he sighed, his jaw clenching in frustration with himself, “I’m not there yet”.

Y/n tilted her head to the side as she examined his eyes for any clue as to what was going on, “Kaz, I-“.

He shook his head, gripping his cane tighter, “I cannot. Inej is of no use at the moment. I will get Nina”.

She watched as Kaz turned abruptly towards his door.

“Kaz, I don’t need Nina. What are you talking about?” She asked, standing up behind him.

“Your… disposition. Inej informed me” Kaz stated, his back to her.

“My..-? Oh, Kaz, ignore her” y/n said as she caught on.

Kaz turned back to y/n, “I will not. You need help. I may not be able to but I can make sure Nina does”.

Y/n smiled and walked to him, slowly setting her hand over his on his cane to allow him the chance to pull away or stop her.

“Inej wanted me to prank you. I told her no. I guess she took it upon herself” y/n explained, smiling sympathetically at him.

“You are not at risk of poor health then?” Kaz clarified, the concern showing in his eyes.

“I mean, we live in Ketterdam so that’s a constant possibility, but no, I don’t have a tampon stuck, and no I’m not at any increased health risk Kaz” she promised.

Kaz turned his hand over to hold her’s for a moment as he nodded and let his features relax.

Y/n smiled and lead him back to his desk so he could sit.

While she wasn’t pleased Inej pushed it, she was proud of her boyfriend for finding his own way to help her.

Jesper Fahey

“You what?” Jesper asked, setting his whiskey down.

“Don’t make me repeat it” y/n groaned.

Jesper laughed and dropped his arm around her shoulders, “then let’s go”.

“Where?” She asked as he lead her through the crowd that had entered the crow’s club that night.

“To the restroom to take care of this” he shrugged.

“And how exactly are you planning on doing that Jesper?” Y/n laughed.

“Darling, you should know I’m well skilled with my hands” Jesper winked.

“Jes!” She gasped, smacking his arm.

“What?!” He feigned innocence, “you’ve seen me take apart my guns to clean them. This is not much different”.

Y/n rolled her eyes as she knew that was not what he was referring to mere seconds before.

“It is very different, thank you very much!” She argued.

Jesper smirked and shrugged as he pushed the bathroom door open after no one responded when he knocked, “you know I’m always gentle”.

Y/n grumbled, “I hate you”.

Jesper laughed, “if you say so, now stand here”.

“Jesper, stop” y/n laughed, pushing him back.

He sighed, looking into her eyes, “I’ll stop joking, but we do need to fix this”.

Y/n smiled, “it was a prank Jes”.

Jesper frowned, “you mean..”

She nodded, kissing his cheek, “thanks for helping me win the bet though!”

Jesper groaned as he followed her back out into the club, “you better split the winnings with me!”

Cardan Greenbriar

“Yes my sweet nemesis?” Cardan mumbles, glancing up from his slouched position on his lounge chair in his bedroom.

“I could use some assistance” y/n whispered.

“With?” He asks, setting his gold rimmed chalice down before standing.

“You may not be interested..” she sighs, looking away.

“I beg your pardon, you cannot truly think I would chose to not assist you” Cardan scoffs, lifting y/N’s hand to his stained lips.

“Cardan… it’s just… my tampon is stuck” y/n explains slowly.

“This is a mortal thing yes?” Cardan questions with a slight tilt of his head, the tip of his ear peaking through the curtain of his loose hair.

She nods, “which is why, I think you may need to get my sist-“.

Cardan cuts y/n off with a gentle kiss to her lips, “I understand the summation, but my Queen, I plead you let me try first on my own”.

“You’re willing to…” y/n trailed off, staring into his kind eyes.

“You need not act as if that is anything new my dear” he smirked, pulling her hand towards their adjoined bathroom.

“Cardan” She giggles, tugging him back, “it’s a prank”.

“A… prank?” He questions, staring at her.

“Basically a joke or trick for comedic purposes” y/n explains with a smile.

Cardan’s eyes darken slightly as he shakes his head, “ever the trickster aren’t you my beautiful y/n”.

She blushes as she watches him flop back onto the lounge chair and resume his drinking.

Aaron Warner (Anderson)

“Honey, I’m going to need some help in here” y/n said, knowing Aaron would rush right in.

Just as suspected, her boyfriend busted into the bathroom within seconds.

“How can I help you love?” He asked, scanning her for any injuries.

“So… ummm” she mumbled, biting her lip.

Aaron sighed tenderly, “love, don’t be shy. Not with me”.

He was being so gentle she felt bad for pranking him, but she needed to beat Kenji.

“I got a tampon stuck” she told him, eyes wide as she looked into his green eyes.

“Not a problem love,” he stated, picking her up and setting her on the bench next to the counter.

“Aaron-“ she giggled, grabbing his hand.

“It’s okay gorgeous, just lift your hips for me love” he instructed, reaching for her waistband.

“Babe, stop” She whispered, smiling at him “ it was a prank”.

Aaron furrowed his eyebrows as he stepped back and gave her a questioning look.

She bit her lip and shrugged innocently, “Kenji said that no guy would ever-“.

“You did this to prove a point to Kenji?” Aaron asked teasingly.

She nodded with a shy smile, “oops?”

Aaron chuckled and shook his head, scooping her into his arms as he began tickling her, “you’re going to pay for that my love”.

Pin Hawthorne

“I can’t right now Pin” y/n sighed, walking out of the restroom.

“Why?” He sighed, leaning against the doorframe, “it’ll be short and we’ll have dinner after”.

“I have to umm.. hang out here for a bit” She explained.

Pin squinted at her, “everyone’s left, unless you’re the horse thief I’m not sure why you’d stick around”.

Y/n scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest as she playfully glared at him.

“I’m kidding” Pin grinned, putting his palms up in the air, “but why are you staying here?”

“I have to take care of something” y/n muttered, trying to not look over at her camera she’d hidden earlier.

The girls had all agreed to try the viral tampon prank on their boyfriends this weekend and y/n decided to get it over with first.

“I own the stables y/n, I assure you that whatever Mia has you staying late for can wait” Pin sighed, expecting Mia to be the cause again this time, “regardless, I can help”.

“Not with this” She giggled nervously.

Pin pushed himself off the doorframe and walked to his girlfriend, gently interlacing their hands, “why not?”

“Pin…it’s embarrassing” She pouted.

He shrugged, “I’ve embarrassed myself countless times before you. I promise you can tell me anything”.

Y/n beamed as she looked into his warm brown eyes, “I know…”

“Then what is the matter?” He pressed hesitantly.

“My tampon is stuck” she groaned.

Pin’s cheeks flushed a crimson red color as he sucked in his bottom lip.

He forced a stiff nod, “I see”.

“Like I said, you can’t help. I tried several times and I can’t get it myself” y/n told him.

Pin raised his eyebrows as he slowly let out his bottom lip, “if you can’t reach it… perhaps… umm… perhaps I can. If you’re okay with that of course! I mean, I know I’ve only worked on horses but I think I understand the general task and I-“

Y/n giggled, reaching up to run her hand through his hair, “Pin, babe, breathe”.

Pin nodded and took a deep breath, “okay, so-“.

“No, really, baby it was a prank, I’m sorry” she explained, playing with his hair to relax him.

“What?” He whispered in shock.

“I’m sorry” she sighed, tenderly scratching his scalp, “it was Jade’s idea. It’s a TikTok trend people do with their boyfriends”.

Pin closed his eyes for a second as he suppressed a large grin, but his dimples face him away, “boyfriend”.

Y/n giggled, cuddling up against him, “yes Pin, boyfriend”.

Austin Butler

“Ugh” y/n griped as she stomped through her and Austin’s house.

Austin set his script aside as he started questioningly at his girlfriend.

He waited to see if she’d explain why she was having a fit but as she began digging in her purse while still muttering he gave up.

“Angel? What’s going on? Why are you so grumpy?” He smirked, standing up to walk to her.

“I’m not grumpy Austin” She argued, rolling her eyes.

“Mmm okay” He laughed, “tell that to the pen you threw”.

She groaned, running a hand down her face as she plopped into the dining room chair next to her.

“Y/n/n, angel come on, talk to me” Austin requested, kneeling next to her.

She shook her head, wrapping her arms around herself.

Austin sighed and pulled her chair leg slowly to bring her closer, “please”.

“I can’t” she mumbled.

“Love, we talked about communication” He reminded her, his hand resting on her knee.

She let out a loud sigh before nodding and looking at him, “my tampon is stuck Austin “.

Austin laughed making her shove him playfully as she pouted .

He shook his head, cupping her face in his hands, “angel, that’s an easy fix. You had me worried”.

Y/N’s eyes widened, “I already tried though, I can’t get it”.

Austin nodded, pulling her head delicately to him as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, “that’s where I step in”.

She smiled and shook her head, looking to the camera against the planter.

“Angel, I know it might be awkward but it’s gotta come out” Austin said, squeezing her hand encouragingly.

“Aus” She giggled, pointing to the camera resting on their planter, “it was just a TikTok prank!”

Austin laughed loudly as he helped y/n stand up and pulled her to him, “I’ll get you back for that you know”.

Tom Holland Navigation/Masterlist

Peter Parker Navigation/Masterlist

Harry Holland Navigation/Masterlist

Sam Holland Navigation/Masterlist

Harrison Osterfield Navigation/Masterlist

Freddy Carter Navigation/Masterlist

Kaz Brekker Navigation/Masterlist

Jesper Fahey Navigation/Masterlist

Six of Crows Navigation/Masterlist

Grishaverse Navigation/Masterlist

Cardan Greenbriar Navigation/Masterlist

Aaron Warner Anderson Navigation/Masterlist

Shatter Me Navigation/Masterlist

Pin Hawthorne Navigation/Masterlist

Austin Butler Navigation/Masterlist

Main Navigation/Masterlist (All my works)

Combined tag lists:

@galaxyholland @bigbirdstwins @mcushvft @fishingirl12 @raajali3 @justapurrcat @natswifey @directioner5life @ell0ra-br3kk3r @laylasbunbunny @natswife-marvelicious @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r

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slayerchick303 · 1 year

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Subtlety is overrated.

It's a crime that the digital editions changed this masterpiece of a song choice.

Lyrics in the background: "I want you... oh... I wanna feel you from the inside."

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revasserium · 10 months

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lie to me

harrison; 1,872 words; fluff and a bit of angst; fem!reader a/n: in which harrison tells you five lies and just as many truths

01.

“lie to me.”

“i love you.”

“ah, but that’s an easy one — how could you be in love with someone you just met, right?”

you smile, lacing your fingers under your chin as he looks you over, the smile on your lips simple and sweet and somehow unsettling in its simplicity. there’s something hidden there — he knows it. he just doesn’t know exactly what it is yet and… that in and of itself is intriguing enough to warrant a second glance, a second’s pause.

“go on, isn’t this supposed to be what you’re good at?” you ask, cocking your head, your eyes never leaving his.

harrison feels himself being drawn into you, the unflinching way you meet his gaze, the seemingly indomitable nature of your curiosity, your striking, painful honesty. ah — so is that what it is? has he gotten so used to the truth hidden beneath the lies that seeing truth hidden behind another veneer of truth has become strange? certainly, it’s not something he sees everyday but…

“alright then — i don’t love you, but i think that maybe i could —”

eh?

you blink, but harrison is already pursing his lips with a shrug, pushing up from where he’d been sitting across from you, your coffee mugs still steaming.

“there, ponder that one for a while, hm?” he grins, shooting a lazy wink your way, “and… that confused look on your face… i don’t hate it, y’know.”

02.

“lie to me.”

“my favorite color is yellow.”

“well, mine’s green.”

harrison looks up at you from across a piece of perfectly buttered toast, his mouth halfway open, watching as you slather your slice of toast in a truly impressive amount of jam. you’re humming to yourself and when you glance up to find him watching you, you shrug.

“what?”

harrison smiles, shaking his head, “nothing. just… ah — nevermind.”

“no, tell me.” you take a huge bite of toast and he can’t help the way his eyes snag on the smear of jam on your lower lip or the way your tongue sweeps out to lick it up.

“nope. don’t wanna.” he takes his own rather large bite of toast, washing it down with a sip of coffee that’s just a bit too hot.

“even if i say ‘please’?”

harrison pauses, considers. and then he smiles.

“for a second there, i just thought you were… cute.”

your blush makes something warm and tight unfurl in his chest. but you narrow your eyes and the tension inside his chest lightens ever so slightly.

“saah… was that a lie or was it the truth?” he muses, reaching out to tap a finger to the center of your forehead, making you blink, “well, you can believe whatever you want to believe. i don’t mind it either way.”

03.

“lie to me.”

“i actually don’t really like lying.”

you pause over the still-warm cranberry scones, your hand hovering over the butter dish.

“then why do you do it?”

harrison licks his lips, his eyes fixed on yours. he feels the beginnings of something cresting from his stomach up into his chest, over his shoulders, down the length of his back. it’s a strange thing, a nearly foreign sensation. but it leaves his whole body a mess a livewire tingles, and it makes him wonder about stupid things like truth and trust and belonging.

“because… it’s easy, i suppose.”

you nod, slowly breaking off a corner of a scone, and applying a liberal amount of butter to it before offering it to him. on the windowsill, there’s a vase full of bright yellow tulips, freshly picked and watered.

“my parents always said that if you tell a lie enough times, it starts to sound like the truth.”

“hm… they sound like smart people.” he reaches out to take the bit of proffered scone, popping it into his mouth and savoring the sweetness.

you watch him with a grin, “they were.”

a moment passes, and then another; harrison reaches for the sugar bowl at the same time you do and your hands brush. you pause; so does he. and then — laughter, as he pushes the bowl towards you and you shake your head, nudging it back.

“three sugars, right?” you ask, watching as he drops the cubes into his coffee and stirs.

“what can i say? i’ve got something of a sweet-tooth.”

“yeah. i know you do.”

04.

“lie to me… please — t-tell me everything’s gonna be okay.”

there’s blood everywhere, and the world is around you is a blur of rain and shadows. the streetlamps cast the air in a hazy glow and it would be beautiful, if it weren’t so deeply, horrifyingly terrible.

you cradle harrison to your chest, a hand pressed to the side of his stomach, where a sickeningly hot stream of blood is pouring from a bullet wound, your other hand holding his head upright.

“i — i think i’m gonna die,” he says, forcing a weak smile as he raises a hand to cup your cheek.

“h-harry! that’s not — that’s not funny —” but you can’t help the watery laugh that bubbles from your lips.

“you — you told me to lie to you… right? so…”

you bite back a sob even as it rips itself from your throat and you shake your head.

“y’know… you’ve gotten s-so bad at this…”

harrison’s own laughter is stuttered through with coughs. more blood, painting the soft of his lips so bright it almost looks like lipstick or strawberry jam. you reach up your hand to wipe it away, smearing the red across his cheeks.

he catches your hand in his, and the cliché of the moment hits you like a runaway train, veering off it’s tracks — the rain, the blood, the falling in love.

“what… at lying? ah… i guess that’s true… hey… look at me…” he presses his blood-stained lips to your hand before resting it along his cheek, holding it there even as more blood gurgles out of the side of his mouth. you try to tug your hand to wipe it away but he holds you tight, holds you dear.

“there you are…” he says, his eyes flickering over the plains of your face, “i su-suppose you might make an honest man of me yet…”

you shake your head again, fervent and desperate.

“no — i d-don’t want that — harry, please — you can’t —”

“m-my favorite color… didn’t used to be yellow… but now it is… and… i never did like lying… but i hated doing it to you… and… i never thought i could fall in love but… here i am… so there — i — i think that’s most of them —”

“harry, what are y-you doing?”

“i’m… telling you the truth. now… your turn — lie… lie to me.”

you let out another sob as you see the light from his eyes slowly fading, even as the distant sounds of shouting alert you to the ambulance racing your way.

“i-if you die, i swear to god, harry — i’ll chase you right into the gates of hell and pull you back with me —”

harrison laughs, his hand falling from yours, his lashes fluttering as his gaze goes wide and glazed.

“now that’s a lie… i’d be happy to believe…”

05.

when harrison next wakes up, it’s to a nearly pitch-black hospital room and a solid weight somewhere to his right. he lets out a soft groan and looks down to find… you, with your face pillowed on your arms, fast asleep by his bedside.

“she’s been here for three whole days.” victor’s voice is light but for once devoid of it’s usual levity.

“ah… of course she has.” harrison reaches out to run his fingers through your hair, a smile stretching his lips at the way your brows furrow slightly, your body shifting as he traces a thumb along the contours of your cheek.

“try not to excite her too much… she’s barely been eating or sleeping so who know’s — her heart might give out if you give her too big of a shock.” and with that, victor tips his head and slips from the room, leaving the two of you very much alone.

harrison revels in the quiet, in the patient pace of your breaths, the rise and fall of his own chest, his own miraculous heartbeat mapped in bright green spikes on a screen to his left. and he wonders briefly how quickly it’d have to beat before it would alert the nurses but —

“h-harry? oh… oh my god — you’re awake!”

“hm… really? ah, and here i was, thinking this was all a dream.”

you bury your face in his chest, gasping when he winces, but he chuckles and tugs you back towards him, his seafoam eyes so bright even in the relative darkness.

“i — i thought…”

“what? that i was dead? c’mon… i’m not that easy to get rid of.”

you bite your lips, shake your head, your eyes welling up with tears as you once again bury your face in his chest, this time careful to avoid his still tender wounds. he hushes you as you hiccup, running a soothing hand through your hair, down the back of your neck.

“i’m just… so glad y-you’re alive…”

harrison grins, cocking his head as you pull back to look at him, your eyes wide and watery and so, so beautiful. it’s unfair, he decides, that you should still look so daringly beautiful like this.

“come here… there’s something i need to tell you…”

you blink at him for a moment before allowing him to beckon you closer, to wrap his arms around you and skim his lips by your cheek till he’s whispering in your hear —

“i… i don’t love you… not even a little bit.”

and for a second, you freeze, your whole body going cold, but when you pull back, there’s a smile on harrison’s lips that makes you roll your eyes. you let out a soft little sigh, pillowing your cheek on his chest as he absently brushes a strand of hair behind your ear.

“wow… when did you become such a terrible liar?”

at this, harrison laughs, and he hisses at the pain but he doesn’t stop laughing, and a moment later you join him, and the pair of you fall into the waves and waves of laughter until he tilts your chin up to press his lips to yours.

“if i had to guess…” he muses as he pulls back, running the pad of his thumb along your bottom lip, his eyes flickering from your kiss-bruised mouth up to your shock-widened eyes and back down again, a distinctly fox-like grin stretching his lips.

“i’d say that it was the day that i met you.”

#harrison gray #ikemen villains #ikevil harrison #ikevil #ikemen series #harrison gray x reader #ikevil harrison x reader #ikemen villains harrison #ikevil x reader #cybird ikemen #floofy floof floof #angst mcgee #honestly i'm in so damn deep for this man not in the least bc he's voiced by noriaki sugiyama #kudos if you can count the actual number of lies/truths harry tells reader in this fic u__u LOL #pls come talk to me about harry god im simping so hard for this man and i haven't even read like half his route

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b1ird · 5 months

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i don't ship mc with emma or michael...because i ship them together

#b1irds pencil #playchoices #high school story #choices hss #choices high school story #michael harrison #emma hawkins #emma x michael #michael x emma #hawkison #choices stories you play #choices stories we play #hss ship

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warnersister · 8 months

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Gonna give you a baby (smut)

The Beatles x Reader, Paul McCartney x Wife! Reader

Summary: you and Paul have fertility issues, the three men with a thing for you see this as a great opportunity to lend a helping hand. -> hate this one didn’t write it well🤧

Warnings: mentions of infertility, pregnancy, filthy smut, five-some, degrading (slut, whore, etc), hand-jobs, oral (f+m receiving), just a lot.

Requested by: @jill-smith-123

You and Paul had met in the early 50’s. Your family had moved in just down the street from him and the 10 year old McCartney was awestruck from the moment he laid eyes on you. The next day, he’d showed up at your house, to which your less-than-pleased father had answered the door, with a bow-tie and bouquets of flowers he’d taken from your mother’s new garden, to ask you to accompany him to the local youth centre for disco night.

He’d bought you a sherbet straw while he puffed on candy cigarettes before pecking your lips with tight-shut eyes mid way through you dining along to The Andrews Sisters’ song your mother had on vinyl.

When you were each a bit older, you’d accompanied Paul to the cavern club sitting in the front row as you’d hummed along with him, his eyes never drawing away from your own. Then he’d take you for dinner, a real fancy restaurant that his uncle owned, and he said that he’d pay - but it was always on the house.

Eventually, another three boys had somehow weaselled their way into your life and the product was an up and coming band: The Beatles. John Lennon, George Harrison, Pete- (scratch that) Richard Starkey and your boy Paul McCartney. And it was no secret that the three also had a thing for you - between the constant bickering and playful flirtations, Paul brushed it off because he always knew in the end that you were always his, and he was always yours.

Especially when he proposed on your twentieth birthday in 1962. Beatlemania crazed the nation and it wasn’t long before scandalous magazines began to accuse the boys of unruly acts and Paul was no different. And realistically, Paul saw the only way fit to prove his innocence to you was to ask for your hand in marriage. With your father’s approval of course… (?)

The fame never concerned you, nor did it necessarily appeal to you either - so you’d had a small ceremony in the local church, doors locked for a healthy gathering of your closest family and friends and an after party conjoined with a reception in the Cavern Club into the early hours of the morning.

“Y’know love, I never read a rule that said your first night had to be with your actual husband.” George had whispered into your ear, smirking at you after seeing the look on your face. “Not her first night.” Paul responded, hints of jealously in his tone as he threw you over his shoulder and off to his car.

That was also the night you’d discovered Paul’s intense breeding kink. His hips pushing into you at a bruising rate, lips failing him as he stuttered out his desire to see you full with his children.

But that was the problem.

“Am I the problem?” You’d asked Paul as you buried your face in his neck, crying after umpteen times, you still weren’t pregnant. “No, no, not at all dove.” He caressed your back gently. “We’re just going to have to be moved patient and keep trying. You’re perfect.” He said softy, cupping your puffy face between his hands, looking you over with a concerned gaze.

“Hey, woah woah woah what’s up lovey?” John asked as the other band members entered the room. They all ran to your side, helplessly watching the tears roll down your cheeks. “I can’t get pregnant.” You sniffed, hiccuping as the tears continued to flow. Ringo’s hands cupped yours as his sad eyes looked into yours. “Maybe there’s just not enough.” He said and your brows creased.

“Y’know our offer is always on the table.” George’s continued. “What offer?” You asked, confused. “Y’ mean you never told her, paulie boy?” John cocked his head. “No, cause I know what you lot are like.” “What y’ on about?” You ask again. “All of us.” George said. “Y’ mean-” “all of us at once.” John took your chin between his fingers and squatted down to where you were sat. “Wrecking y’ can handle us, dovey?” Shocked, you look from John to Paul who had a knowing smirk frowning on his lips. Without thinking, you nod at them. Suddenly, you were swept off of your feet and into the arms of John. “Let’s make you a baby.”

A king size bed was certainly not big enough to support the five of you, but in the boys’ desperation, you certainly managed. You were placed down gently on the bed, soft covers enveloping you as the four starved men looked down at you with lustful eyes. Your clothes were practically torn from your body, apparently them being to impatient to allow you to get undressed properly.

Paul caressed your hair gently before leaning into kiss you, as you begin to feel light kisses and licks on your breasts. You look down to see John staring back at you, a cheeky grin on his lips. He bit your nipple harshly and you hissed, screwing your eyes tight and throwing your head back. “Better get used to that if y’ want a baby.” George said, tracing his hand up and down the sensitive skin on your inner thigh.

Then all the delicious contact went again and you groaned, searching for the friction they were giving you. “Y’ want a baby? Y’ gonna have to let us get undressed first.” George chuckled. When they were undressed, John situated himself between your legs. “Oi, shift she’s my missus I’m having the first go.” Paul grumbled. “And the reason she can’t get pregnant.” John replied smugly, but was shoved out of the way by your husband. “Y’ gonna show em what a good slut y’ are for me, hmm?” He asked, fingers wandering down your thigh and towards your heat, beginning to pump them at an agonisingly slow pace.

George yanked your hair back and forced you to look at him, your mouth falling agape in the process. “Y’ gonna be good for us? Gonna give old Paulie a baby?” He taunted, rubbing himself a few times before forcing his length into your mouth. Gagging slightly, you tried your best to open your throat in the position you were in.

A heat built up inside of you, warmth rushing as you chased your high but it was soon stripped from you. Unable to complain, the disheartenment was soon replaced by something much larger - you and Paul groaned simultaneously, George doing the same as you sent vibrations flying through his cock.

After a while of Paul’s bruising pace, you rest his unwavering hips stutter as he released into you, you doing the same and realising all over him. George pulled out of your mouth and thrust himself into his hand a few times before also cumming. “Such a filthy whore.” Paul taunted, enamoured by the drool leaking from your lips.

“My turn now, birdie?” Ringo asked and you hummed, still dazed and coming off of your high. “He asked you a question. You being a disobedient slut for him?” John asked and you shook your head no. “Y-yes, your turn Richie.” You managed to stutter out.

His dick hardened at his routine nickname, needing no time to prepare you so without warning, sliding himself straight in. He let out a big breath of air at the feeling of your soft wall enveloping him. He began thrusting at an agonisingly slow pace, you in turn, crying out in desperation. “Patience now, doll.” Ringo told you. “Good things come to those who wait.” He took his time with you, not knowing when an opportunity like this one would come again.

Your head fell to the side and your eyes connected with John’s, who looked down at you with a small shit-eating grin. He leant down and licked your ear love, whispering gently “gonna give me a hand job while you let your husband’s friend take you?” You moaned at his question but nodded at him, raising your hand to rub up and down his hardening cock, swiping the tip a few times to use his pre-cum as some sort of lubricant. You pulled away and spat saliva into your palm, beginning to jerk him off at a faster rare. “Isn’t your first rodeo, is it dove?” John asked with a chuckle. “Got you well trained, haven’t I chick?” Paul said, leaning down to latch his lips onto yours.

Your high came excruciatingly slow, Richard building up the pace to the point he could no longer take it and took you animalistically, only stopping to release his seed deep into your womb and felt you cum over him. Waiting long enough for some of it to sink in, he slowly pulled out and kissed at the cold air attaching his sensitive member.

John released into your hand and felt his cock re-stiffen at the sight of you licking your hand clean. “Fuck. Me next.” He said, walking around the bed to your feet and positioning himself between your legs, feeling yourself being manoeuvred like some inhuman marionette. He moved you until your face was in the sheets and back arched for him, arse and sweet warmth on display for him. “Can’t let any of their cum get out, can we love?” He’d asked tauntingly, nails digging painfully rough into your hips.

He slipped in quickly, cock twitching at the sound you made, sensitive from the numerous rounds you had been put through. “Can’t believe Paul gets to keep you all to himself. A little slut all for him.” He said, staring to pepper kissed down your back while his hands found your breasts. Your arse was unquestionably bruised, as was your neck from the way Ringo and George were sucking at either side of it. John let out his load deep inside of you, full ovaries feeling themself being stuffed by the liquid trickling down into them.

George had waited so patiently for his turn, so patient with a so painful hard-on that he was going to make you regret giving him. Seeing himself torture you would be enough of a reason to make himself wait a few more moments. He spun you around and returned you into your back, kneeling down to kiss and worship the skin of your inner thighs, yet never close enough to provide the friction you so-desperately needed.

He kissed and sucked at your clit, thumb coming up to rub it as his tongue delved deep into your walls, making you cry out at the sight of their cum on his tongue. He thrust it into you a half a dozen more times before standing up and forcing his elongated cock into you. You hissed, pained by the repetitive beatings your intestines were receiving.

“Such a good little brat for us aren’t you?’ Paul asked, staring down at you as if a predator staring at its helpless pray. “Yes, ‘m good.” You repeated, doing as you were told as he tapped your chin to tell you to open it. You parted your lips and allowed your husband to force his dick into your already sore and throbbing throat.

George’s hips snapped at a consistent and quick pace, eyes not deferring from yours as he watched you take his bandmate’s cock so well. “Take him so well, don’t you dove?” He asked, praising you as you hummed and Macca moaned. George put his thumb onto your overstimulated clit and pressed down harshly. You cried out but tried your best to keep your throat open. “That’s if, keep it open.” Your husband taunted. And with a few more final thrusts, George cummed inside of you as you did the same, Paul releasing deep down your throat and you refrained from coughing - instead harshly swallowing and wiping the remaining resales from your mouth with your tongue and the back of your head.

“You were such a good girl.” John said, petting your hair gently and pecking your forehead. “Y’ alright, princess?” Ringo asked and you looked up at him and smiled with a nod. “Definitely gonna give Paulie boy a baby for being so good.” George added as he strolled your leg comfortingly. You enjoyed the praise you were receiving, letting the men manoeuvre you so you were in Paul’s lap. With your eyes shut, you felt yourself being lowered onto his cock and you hissed in both oversensitivity and surprise. You looked at your husband with tired eyes. “Don’t want any of it to go to waste.” He said with a wink and cheeky little smile. “Thank you.” You mumbled, drifting to sleep on his chest their quiet conversation turning into distant white noise.

A week or two later, your head was in the toilet bowl as Paul pulled your hair back into a make-shift pony tail and caressed your back at seven in the morning to let you be sick. “It’s alright love, think you’re coming down with something.” He said, pressing the back of his hand against your forehead to check for a fever. It was winter after all and your unreliable immune system was no match for England winters. “I’ll take you to the pharmacy, yeah?” And you’d nodded, wiping your mouth and letting him lead you out to the car.

You weren’t sick, unless your count baby fever. You were pregnant. Pregnant with a child. Pregnant with Paul’s(?) baby. The two of you were overjoyed and as were the rest of the boys when they found out, although offering if you wanted to have two in there just to ask, not minding the sight of you naked and belly swelling with a child.

And eight and a half months later, two weeks premature, your water broke at midnight. Paul sped to the hospital, mentally timing the distance between your contractions to tell the midwife when you got there. After a while of pushing, swearing, breaking Paul’s fingers, and him nearly dainton at the sight of the head coming out of such a small area, at seven minutes past 8, your son was born.

The boys all crowed around, in awe at the new baby in your arms. “He has his mother’s chin.” Paul notes, grinning from ear to ear. “And his fathers face.” The lads then piped up. “And Ringo’s droopy eyes-” George stated but was Vito off by the man himself “oi, oh yeah actually he does. And John’s nose.” John hummed. “And George’s eye colour and ears.” You all began laughing.

Whoever’s paternal child this may be, he was certainly a gift you yourself, your husband, and the three men who tagged along with you.

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zuhamuses · 2 months

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requested by: @nqchristine22

Harrison who smiles a little when someone mentions your name. He wants to brag about you — to tell everyone about how lovely you are and how you brighten his day.

Harrison who, when notices something cute, immediately thinks of you. He never thought he would be such a romantic but you bring out sides of him he doesn’t even know he has! You are something, that’s for sure.

Harrison who’s so in love with you that he wants to kiss every feature on your face and mutter praises and compliments — to verbally express his affection for you. He’s a changed man because of you. He’s happier and eager to welcome the next day with you at his side, all snuggled up against him with your head on his arm. Cutie.

Harrison who brings you little gifts and feels happy when you laugh in surprise and kiss his cheek as a thank you. Hey, life isn’t so bad now that you are with him. That’s for sure.

Harrison who feels jealous when other Crown members look at you for a little too long and compliment you. He says nothing at most times but… he can’t help but snake an arm around your waist. You are his. They should get the hint by now.

Harrison who will do anything you ask. Kiss him and tell him how much you adore him and he will be putty in your hands, with his cheeks burning a bright red. If he’s a fox then you are surely a vixen…

Harrison who won’t ever let harm come to you. He will not let his beloved get in danger because of him. That’s his promise to you and himself.

Harrison who will sometimes sweetly call you ‘darling’ or ‘sweetheart’ just to fluster you. When you look at him with those pretty eyes of yours, wide with surprise and embarrassment, he just wants to whisk you away and kiss you breathless.

Harrison who loves reading you books and seeing you hugging him tightly and then... dozing off after a few chapters. But it's okay, he kisses your forehead and smiles when he notices you have slept. If it's you, he will overlook a few things.

Harrison who considers you his first love and last love. The love he wants to marry and cherish. And he’s your Harrison, always, and forever.

#☆ musings ☆#ikevil x reader #harrison x reader #ikevil x you #ikevil imagines #harrison grey x reader #harrison grey #ikevil harrison

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ventingfanfics · 1 year

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With Jamie Harrison

She caught my eye from the moment I saw her. And it turned out, she was the only one in the group home who warmed up to me, though there were initial attempts to resist me.

“Why do you care? Hm?” Jamie demanded one night as I drove her home. I remained calm, understanding that Jamie wasn’t used to someone looking out for her, which was sad.

“I care because I hate to see people waste their life away,” I said. “Especially young people.” I spared her a glance, meeting her heated gaze. “And you, Jamie, have miles of potential. And I know you know it, as well.” I offered her a soft smile.

She muttered something, shaking her head before staring out the passenger’s window the rest of the drive home. I thought about asking her to sing for me, to lighten the mood. But the silence was enough. Hopefully, she would let my words stay with her, that she was capable of being successful in life.

“Thank you,” she said before getting out the car. I checked to make sure she got inside the house safely and pulled off.

~~~

Jamie had a reason to live now. She never thanked me, but her changing ways was the reward. She was making better choices. Making music was her passion, and so she poured into it. Her consistency had propelled her to be in the running for a scholarship in the arts.

However, she would be tested, and not academically.

I felt nauseous as I pulled up the group home, finding Jamie and Leanne sitting on the porch, laughing. It may have looked normal and innocent to anyone else, but it was usually a bad thing for these two be together. Not to say Jamie isn’t responsible for any of her wrongdoing, but Leanne is definitely a negative influence.

A guilty expression crosses Jamie’s face when she sees me. Leanne, as usual, glares daggers at me. Nonetheless, I greeted them with a hello.

“Jamie, can I see you?” I asked, focusing on her.

“Fuck off,” Leanne replied.

Unsurprised, I focused on Jamie, who had bowed her head, sighing a little.

“I said fuck off! Can’t you see Jamie don’t want you around neither? My God, where is the common sense?” Leanne ranted, turning red and rising to her feet.

“Leanne, chill, chill,” Jamie said, standing now as well and pulling her friend back down.

“No, she needs to leave us the hell alone!” Leanne fumed.

“Just give us a minute,” Jamie told her. “A minute and I’ll be right back.”

Leanne now glared at Jamie before sitting down slowly in defeat. Jamie flashed her a smile before meeting my eyes. Her smile faded and she nodded at me. “What’s up?”

We started walking to my car and I leaned against it as Jamie stood before me. I couldn’t help but blush as her eyes pierced mine. She was striking yet gentle at once. I took in her beauty. She was beginning to put more effort into her appearance, though she’d always been attractive.

Arching a brow, she called my name. I blushed as if she knew my thoughts.

“Just checking to see if you’re coming to practice today,” I said.

She laughed.

“What’s so funny?” I asked.

“You came all the way here just for that?”

“Well, it’s a good thing I did, seeing as…your friend is back.”

Jamie looked nervous for a moment before regaining her confidence. “Yeah, but that doesn’t change anything.”

I smiled at her growth. “Okay.” I was reluctant to leave her here with Leanne.

“Okay….” She repeated and laughed a bit, shifting from side to side. “Is that all?”

“You’re just in a rush to get rid of me, huh?” I joked.

She looked me up and down and smirked. “I’m seeing you in a few hours, don’t be greedy.”

I let out a full laugh and Jamie gave me her beautiful smile and turned back towards the devil—I mean, Leanne.

“Weirdo bitch,” I heard her loudly say. I felt Jamie look at me then but I didn’t make eye contact. I concentrated on getting in my car and leaving.

I bid a farewell to the choir director and my other church mates. Jamie was behind me as I left and proceeded to my car.

“Hello?” She called, catching up to me.

I glanced at her. “Hi.” I didn’t let up on my stroll.

“What’s up your ass?” She asked.

I rolled my eyes. “Such lovely language.”

“No, for real, what’s up? Did I do something? Is it because I was with Leanne earlier?” Her voice was thick with paranoia. She sounded on edge even, which soothed me in this moment. We reached my car, in which Jamie muttered, “finally.”

I folded my arms, leaning against the passenger door as I aimed a sarcastic smile at Jamie. It wasn’t just that she’d spent time with Leanne. It was that she had a hickey. It shouldn’t have consumed me, yet it did. I felt like I was boiling. Boiling in church.

“What did you and Leanne get into today?” I asked.

She started to speak but stopped.

“New beauty mark?” I said, lightly touching the mark on her neck.

Jamie closed her sinfully beautiful eyes and groaned.

“You enjoyed it that much?” I continued.

She quickly opened her eyes and shot me a dry look. Then, she glanced at the ground before leveling her gaze with mine. Her eyes were knowing. “You’re jealous.”

“N—“

“Don’t lie, Y/N.” She stepped closer, completely cornering me.

I couldn’t argue with her there. But I could deflect. “I don’t think it’s wise for you to get involved with Leanne in that way.”

“Why not?”

I had to gather myself as her being so close and staring at me deeply was affecting me. She knew. “As I’ve said a dozen times before, she’s a bad influence. And you now taking things to a romantic level will only…make things worse.” I swallowed, fighting the urge to keep looking at her lips.

She licked them and I made a noise that resembled a moan. She laughed. God, I’d never been more embarrassed.

“So you think,” she replied, sobering me up.

“If you want to be with her, go ‘head,” I pushed her off me and headed to the driver’s seat, but didn’t get far. Jamie pulled me against her.

“I don’t want to be with her,” she said.

That shut me up, but I still had questions. “Then why did you let her give you a hickey?”

“She was drunk.”

I scoffed, pushing her off me again, baffled at the lame cliche excuse. “You don’t have to lie, Jamie.”

“I’m not,” she insisted and I knew then she was being truthful. There was no trace of amusement in her face nor tone. She sighed. “It’s not a funny story. At all.”

I frowned in concern. “What do you mean?”

She sighed again, avoiding eye contact and playing with her hands. She did that out of uncomfortable habit. I gently touched one of her palms, making her eyes find mine. “Let’s sit and talk about it.”

We got inside my car.

“Leanne was really drunk…that is the only reason why she…got physical with me,” Jamie revealed. Why did it feel like she wasn’t just referring to the hickey?

“Got physical how?” I softly pressed. Of course I preferred for her to spit it out, but her being vulnerable with me right now was commendable. I waited with bated breath for her response.

“Just sucked my neck and…I told her to fuck off and she…she got mad.” Jamie rubbed her nape, seemingly processing the situation. “She didn’t put her hands on me, she just thought I was seeing you. So you both being jealous over each other is comedy.” She laughed some, warming my heart.

But I got serious again.“Is that all that happened?”

Jamie finally looked at me again. “Yeah.”

“So she didn’t hurt you?”

“No, she would never. Not in that way.”

“What way?”

“She would never abuse me.”

“But you said she was yelling at you? Because you protested her advances?”

Jamie nodded glumly.

“Well, that’s emotional abuse, and that is no way to treat a friend or anyone. I’m sorry you went through that, Jamie.”

“I will always love her, but I think I’m done.”

I almost did a double-take because she never spoke this way about Leanne. She never verbalized wanting to end their friendship.

“I’m trying to get my life together and I thought she would want to do the same, but…” she shook her head.

I rubbed her arm, squeezing it lightly. “Leanne is such wasted potential. But that is not your problem. She has to be the one to want to make a change. Until she is, there is nothing you, me, nor anyone can do.” Jamie looked so despondent.

I felt her reach for my hand. “I’m glad you came into my life.” Her words brought a smile to my face. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Come on, bring it in.” I spread my arms and she leaned over the console, hugging me back. I held her tight, now feeling bad for being cold towards her after the day she’d had.

~~~

I had the day off so I slept longer than usual. It was nice to have uninterrupted sleep. Sometimes I would get calls all types of times to bail out one of the delinquents. It was the life I chose, so I never complained. People like Jame Harrison is why I do what I do. She wanted to turn her life around and was doing exactly that. She wasn’t even in the group home anymore. Instead, she now was put up in her own flat as she attended the school she’d earned the scholarship for.

As I was baking, she gave me a call. Of course I took it, putting her on speaker as I worked my way around the kitchen.

“Did you just wake up?” Jamie asked.

I chuckled. “That obvious?”

“Yeah, your voice is all husky.”

“Husky?”

“Husky.”

I tilted my head thoughtfully and laughed. “I’ll take it.” I imagined her rolling her eyes and smirking.

“So whatcha doing? Are you busy?”

“Not too busy, just baking. You?” My voice trailed off into a laugh as she got intrigued by the baking bit. “I’ve been told I’m a good baker. You should see for yourself.”

“I should. What time will you be done? Bring it to my place.”

I smiled. “Are you inviting me to your new home?”

“I just want the goods.” “Yeah, well, you can’t have them without having me.” Then I blushed realizing that sounded naughty.

Jamie huffed out a laugh. “You be flirting with me, on the low.”

I groaned. “Let’s pretend I never said that.”

“I like it, though,” she added, a grin in her voice.

I couldn’t do anything but grin as well, “Well, you should flirt back. It’s harmless,” I said after a beat.

She chuckled. “Just get over here.”

I wanted to run to her. As the cookies sat in the oven, I showered and found something decent to wear. Normally when Jamie and I spent time together it was either when I did visits to the home and my sessions or us at the church or arts center. It was always professional. This marked the first time we would be having a casual gathering. I was both nervous and excited, over the moon.

I already knew the address so it was easy getting there. I parked the car and took an optimistic breath as I approached the door. Her vibrant smile greeted me. She wore a crew neck sweater and matching sweats and the cute slippers I had gifted her months back. My heart melted, seeing her wear them for the first time.

“Hi Y/N,” she said, hugging me. This woman gave the best hugs. I squeezed her thin frame in my embrace and she released the most adorable giggle. She gently took the bag of treats from me and told me to come in. I looked around the simple yet pleasant home. “This smells amazing.” She didn’t waste time taking out a brownie-flavored cookie and biting into it. She hummed blissfully.

“Like it?” I asked, feeling good about her response already.

“I see why people call you a good chef,” she replied carefully after chewing. “Or baker.”

“Thanks! So, do how do you like the new place?”

Her face lit up again. “I love it. I can’t believe it’s mine. I have a space all to myself, which makes it easier to concentrate and find peace. I owe it to you.” She smiled, taking my hands.

I squeezed her hands, keeping her gaze. “It’s not all me, Jamie. I couldn’t have helped if you didn’t want me to.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t always make it easy for you…yet you never gave up on me. My own mother did, but not you.”

“If she knew what you were up to now, I am sure she’d be proud.” She mustered a small smile and I kissed her cheek. This time her sigh sounded content, which made me want to kiss her again, but I refrained. Her next words shocked me. “Do it.”

“H-Huh?”

“Do what you wanted to do.”

She knew me so well.

“A-are you sure?”

She laughed. “Look at you you stuttering all of the sudden.” She softly rubbed my cheek. “I guess I’ll do it then.” Her orbs dipped to my lips before slowly closing as she leaned in. Her soft lips moved against mine. I was immobile for about a second until I allowed myself to accept this blissful reality. I kissed her back just as tenderly, while holding her lower back. Her fingers were so gentle against my face even as she deepened the kiss.

I picked her up, which kinda made her still for a second, but she wrapped her legs around me. I smiled against her lips and she moved her face to my neck. Now she seemed like the shy one. I didn’t know if she would be comfortable with me taking her to her room, not that I knew where it was anyway. I moaned as she nipped my neck. I walked us to the couch, placing her down on it. She laid on her back and spread her legs so I would fit in between. Her hands ran down my body before she fisted my top, bringing our lips together again.

I knew she’d be mine.

#shuri x you #letitia wright characters #jamie harrison #jamie x you #shuri x reader #urban hymn

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cherry-velvet-skies · 9 months

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Strawberry Lemonade

Gardener!George Harrison × GN!Reader

Genre: About as close as it can get to smut without there actually being any sex

Warnings: Heavy makeout session, lotsa hickies, and a bit of a spit kink but who's counting, eh?

Words: 2.3k

Summary: 1971 era; Reader hires George as a gardener and quickly falls in love with him (Reader is wearing a dress but gender is unspecified)

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You had been trying to get closer with him for several days now. He was always busy working. After all, he was technically working for you.

To be fair, you had hired a gardener, and you didn't know what, or rather who, to expect. Although, had you been given a selection based on appearance, you would have gladly chosen him anyway.

There was something about him that was positively alluring. You thought he was so handsome. And in the three Saturdays he had been working in your backyard, all you managed to find out about him was his name. George.

George looked like your typical gardener, with his scruffy hair and worn out denim, his only focus being his craft. In all honesty, your favorite thing about his appearance was how little he cared for it. He had no desire to be neat. He found beauty in the natural world.

You enjoyed staying with George while he worked. He didn't seem to mind either. He loved telling you all kinds of things about each type of flower, such as where they originated from and which ones could be used for natural remedies in certain teas, soups, and medicines. You didn't even have to ask any questions. He was just ready and willing to share the information, which benefited you as you were still too shy to say much to him. His extensive knowledge was undoubtedly adorable. When you saw how excited he got every time he told you a fun fact, it only made you want to extend the conversation.

You loved George's voice. The way he spoke, slow and sultry, was so calculated in the best possible way. Every word he said was uttered with meaningful intent. He never spoke just to speak. He always spoke to connect. You noticed George licked his lips a lot when he spoke. You weren't sure if it was just a quirk, a nervous habit, or a flirtation technique.

Your fascination with him began on his first Saturday of coming to work. He noticed the rather large section of orange lilies in the center of your garden, acknowledging them as being your favorite. Before he left, he handed you a singular petal from said flower that had fallen off, placing it in the front pocket of the creamsicle colored dress you were wearing. After closing the gate behind him, he turned to look at you one last time.

“Orange is my favorite color, too.”

You allowed George to decorate the garden however he wished, which he was immensely appreciative of. If he felt that certain flowers looked better beside each other, or grew better in certain types of soil, who were you to oppose his artistic vision?

On this particular day, you had chosen to stay on the patio while he worked. You had prepared a plate of fresh strawberries, but knew that fruit could attract bugs that might eat your flowers. You had paired it with a tall glass of lemonade, and as you sat down, you questioned your decision. It was a particularly warm day, and George had already been working for a while. You thought he could use a refreshment too, or at least maybe some company.

Careful not to startle him, you walked over and offered him the glass of lemonade. Looking up at you, he smiled and reached for the cup, his gloves leaving a trace of fresh soil along the bottom. You thought it was quite endearing. You admired the way the short, dark brown hairs of his mustache grazed the top of the straw.

After taking a single sip, he handed the glass back to you, smiled again and went back to work. You figured maybe he wasn't thirsty, so you returned the cup to the patio table. Instead, you plucked a single strawberry from the plate and offered him that as well. He hesitated before taking it, but decided to accept it, removing his left glove so as not to dirty your hand. The way George’s fingertips brushed your palm when he reached for the berry made you shiver, but you tried not to show it. You think he still noticed.

He ate the small fruit in one bite, leaving only the piece with the leaves. Seeing that a few seeds were still left on the tip, he moved to the edge of the garden, scooped out a small patch of dirt, and placed the fruit inside, covering it up. You looked down, accepting the fact that you owned a strawberry bush now.

You turned to walk back to the patio again, but he motioned towards the large tree next to where he was working.

"You can stay." His voice was almost a whisper. "I don't mind."

You fetched your snack from the table and sat down against the tree without a second thought. You knew you were going to have dirt all over your mulberry colored dress when you stood up, but you didn't care. You would do anything to spend time with him.

You didn't talk, but just being there with George felt like heaven. You would occasionally glance over at him while he trimmed the thorns from the rose patch. Or the way he moved the marigolds next to the daisies to create a pastel gradient. He turned around just as you were staring at him and made eye contact with you. Feeling your cheeks blush, you offered him another strawberry to ease the tension. He showed you his gloved hands as if to say he couldn't, to which you held the berry up to his lips, requesting he take it from you directly.

George leaned forward, lacking hesitation, and took a bite. His plush lips, which were now stained with strawberry juice, kissed your fingers as you held the heart-shaped fruit, the red pigment dripping down your hand. He gazed at you so intensely you felt like you were shaking. You placed the stem back on the plate and set it on your lap.

Returning his piercing stare, you placed your fingers in your mouth, sucking them clean. Three weeks ago, you didn't even know his name, and now you were licking his strawberry flavored spit off your fingers. But you could tell this had an effect on him.

You took another sip of lemonade, and, noticing the rapidly emptying glass, offered him the final sip. He accepted, finishing the rest and placing the cup on the grass beside you. Once he was close enough, he tucked his fingers under your chin, tilting your head up to place his lips against your own. He tasted like strawberry lemonade. When he pulled away, a thin string of saliva was bridged between your lips, the sunlight revealing the slightest tint of rose gold from the fruitful concoction. Your eyes widened when you looked back at him, perplexed by his actions despite you wanting this more than anything. You didn’t expect him to feel the same way.

Without saying another word, George removed the glove from his other hand, placing the now bare hand on the back of your head, his other hand resting on your shoulder. He gently guided you to lay back, his hand protecting your head as you made contact with the grass below. He briefly stroked your hair before removing his hands, instead placing them on both sides of your hips. He stared down at you, rubbing his hand over your stomach through the fabric of your dress.

“Do I have permission to touch you, my flower?”

You nearly moaned at his new name for you, although you were a bit confused as he was technically currently touching you. But still, you nodded, intrigued by what he would do next.

George trailed his fingers up your torso towards your shoulders. He stopped at your chest, eyeing it for a short while. Normally a position like this would’ve been quite compromising for you, but you were surprisingly comfortable.

He hooked his fingers under the straps of your dress, dragging them down your shoulders, stopping right before they had completely fallen, preventing the fabric from leaving your chest entirely bare. He leaned forward to place small kisses across your chest, neck, and shoulders, occasionally biting softly. In one particular spot on the crease of your neck, he bit down a little too hard, but you didn’t even care. The gentle brushing from the coarse hairs of his beard provided a wonderful contrast between pain and pleasure. You threaded your hands through his hair, the loose waves beautifully framing his face. You felt his hands firmly massaging your hips with every breathy whimper that fell from your lips.

Once George decided your upper body had been marked thoroughly, along with a few wine-colored shapes ever so slightly bubbling to the surface of your skin, he ended with one final kiss to your lips. Your hands moved from his hair to cradle his face, raking your fingers across his beard. He pulled back to look at you again, every monochromatic tone of his heavenly brown eyes twinkled in the evening sun. Even now, you were still utterly speechless.

Removing his hands from your hips, George began drawing small circles with his fingers on the exposed skin just below the hem of your dress. He looked back up at you, a small “May I?” leaving his lips, to which you nodded again. George shook his head.

“I need to hear you this time, flower.”

You felt your heart skip a beat. You were so overwhelmed by the current situation that even forming a phrase of one simple word felt like an arduous task.

“Yes.” You whispered. George nodded slowly, placing his hands flat against your thighs, sliding his fingers up underneath your dress until he reached your hips, rubbing his thumbs along the fabric of your underwear. Holding you by the hips over your dress was not enough. He wanted to feel the warm softness of your skin. He wanted to become one with you in any way that he could.

George laid on top of you, knees at your sides to support his weight as he resumed kissing you. But you wanted him closer. Lifting your legs, you locked them around his waist, pushing him flush against you, forcing his arms higher towards your chest. This caused the straps of your dress to fall completely down your arms and the hem to scrunch up past your hips, your entire dress rolled in the center of your body like a belt, rendering you almost fully nude while George was still fully clothed. But you didn’t care. Your actions could be so brave and bold, yet saying a single word to him felt far too intimate.

“So beautiful…” His words were lost in thought right along with him, his lustful stare raking over your neck and chest before moving back up to your face. While he may have had his full weight on you now, you tried your hardest to move your hips beneath him. Your body ached for the slightest of friction, wantonly arching up to grind against his clothed crotch. He looked down as you did this, the corners of his lips curling into a slight smirk, almost mocking your neediness. But as you moved, you could feel the outline of him, slowly nearing full hardness, straining against the confines of his jeans. He wasn’t fooling anyone. He wanted this just as much as you did.

You softly gripped him at the shoulders, massaging your hands up his neck and back into his hair as he laid atop you again, burying his face in your chest, adding more blushing roses to the already blooming garden just above your nipples. That was one place George would look, but never touch. He repeatedly got quite close with both his mouth and fingers, watching as your eyes pleaded for him to touch you everywhere, but decided to save that journey for another time. He opted for keeping his hands firmly at your hips, guiding you while you continued to grind against him, your eyes closed and your head tilted back, completely willing to lose yourself in the immense pleasure.

Just as you felt yourself beginning to falter in rhythm, nearing the edge, George pulled back and stared at the sky. Noticing the change in the amount of daylight, he sat up, much to your confusion.

“Unfortunately, it’s time for me to go.” He said matter-of-factly, pushing the straps back up to your shoulders before moving to pack up his tools.

“Already?” You whined. “Can’t you stay a little longer?”

“That wouldn’t be fair to my personal schedule, now would it?” He teased. You thought he was walking toward the gate but instead stopped at a small patch of red violets he was tending to earlier. He was there for a few seconds before returning to you, who was now standing up, dusting the dirt off of your dress. George reached for your hand, and you felt something touch your palm. He placed a small kiss on your lips before gazing into your eyes again with the same intense stare.

“We’ll make more time for each other next week, my flower.”

You opened your mouth as if to reply but was consistently halted by some invisible force. By the time you felt like you could respond, George was already closing the gate behind him. You peered down at what he had left in your hand: a single petal from one of your red violets. You looked back up to see George still standing at the gate, predicting your confusion. He met your puzzled expression with a punctuating wink before walking to his car. You twirled the plum-colored petal between your fingers as its inspiration caught your eye out of your peripheral. Your cheeks immediately blushed a light pink as you saw the same color in a series of small love bites that were currently forming across your chest.

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I just got a new computer today, and I thought what better way to celebrate than to finish one of my fics! This was the one that got the most votes in my poll of which WIP y'all wanted first. And I know it's quite long overdue, but I hope you enjoy! 🥰

#the beatles #beatles #the beatles x reader #the beatles fanfiction #george harrison #george harrison x reader #george harrison fanfiction #george harrison imagine #beatles x reader #beatles fanfiction #george harrison x you #george harrison x y/n

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