#m!reader x the beatles

[piastrisversion]

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[joeys-babe]

Joey B Imagines: Two Of Us*

Summary: More Father’s Day festivities!

(Part Two to - Part 1)

Warnings: Fluff, LITTLE angst, smut (f & m receiving oral)

Pairing: Joe Burrow x reader

Imagine Universe: Into The Mystic

June 16, 2024 - Continuation of part one!

After dinner was done, I was setting the table while Joe tiptoed into the living room to wake the twins up from their post-swimming naps.

A blissful grin formed on my lips as Joe bent over and lightly ran a big hand over Tyson’s back.

“Hey, bubba. Dinner’s ready.” - Joe

Tyson started squirming around, letting out soft toddler grunts before leaning up and looking up at his dad. He rubbed his little eyes before lifting his arms and making grabby hands towards Joe. Joe easily tucked his hands under Tyson’s arms and lifted him into his chest, Tyson immediately melting into Joe when he laid his little head down onto his shoulder.

Joe used one arm to support Tyson before bending down and gently ruffling Miles’s hair. He got up quicker than Tyson, immediately peeking up when he smelt food. The way he stood up with a big sniff made Joe and I laugh, and soon, we were all sitting down at the table.

I left the music on but turned the volume down, so it was a lot softer. Joe had just settled next to me when Two Of Us by The Beatles came on. Hearing the love song start playing, Joe reached over to my lap and laced his fingers with mine.

During dinner, Tyson recalled the crazy dream he had where he and Joe fought a dragon to save the kingdom they lived in.

“Were you the king?” - you

“No. That’s Daddy!” - Tyson

“If I'm the king then you were a prince.” - Joe

Tyson nodded his head, thinking about what more he could say to add to the dream. Of course, it was obvious that after a certain point, he was just making it up as he went.

“And Daddy could fly!!” - Tyson

Joe gently nudged me with his elbow under the table, and I couldn't help but laugh. Something about Tyson making up more to the story made it sweeter.

After dinner, I made Joe sit on the couch so that I could give him his gifts. I sent Miles and Tyson off as well to grab what they had made for him. By the time they came back, I was sitting next to Joe, sneaking a few kisses with him before the boys could see.

“You guys go first.” - you grinned

Tyson and Miles handed Joe the cards they made, and I watched his heart melt before my eyes.

“Aww. Thanks, guys.” - Joe

Joe pulled them both into a big bear hug, pressing a kiss to both of their heads before they ran off to play. Though the boys lost interest fast, when my gaze left their little bodies running up the stairs and back over to Joe, I noticed that his eyes were misty as he looked over the cards.

“You okay?” - you

I reached out and rubbed his back. Joe only pretended like he didn't know what I was talking about and shrugged before sniffling.

“Me? Yeah, I'm perfect.” - Joe

“Aww, baby.” - you

Chuckling, I wrapped my arm around his shoulders and pulled him into me. I gave his forehead a few kisses before pulling away and grabbing his three gifts.

“Woah, you spoiled me.” - Joe

“I wouldn't say that yet. You could not like everything.” - you

Joe rolled his eyes and shook his head, and I put his first gift in his lap. A smile formed on my lips as he slowly pulled it out of the bag. It was just a plain cardboard box on the outside, so he looked at me rather confused.

“What is this? Is there a bomb in this?!” - Joe

I laughed at his super-animated scared face, which immediately ended when he joined in with my laughter.

“No bomb. It’s a custom LEGO set. It’s our back porch, including all of us in character form. I even got a baby character even though she isn't here yet.” - you

“That’s sick. Can we build it tonight? After the boys go to bed? I was thinking we could do a little date night in bed. Last night, I looked up how to make some cool mocktails. We can try a couple if you want.” - Joe

“Sounds fun. I made pumpkin pie, too. We can eat that in bed and put a movie on while we sip on some mocktails.” - you

Joe nodded, happy that we'd get to have a little makeshift date. It was then that I handed him his next gift, and Joe gasped when he opened the velvet box to see a dainty yet masculine gold chain necklace in it. It had five alternating stones, and Joe looked up at me for an explanation.

“It’s your birthstone, mine, the twins, and baby girl’s. So hopefully she doesn't decide to come early or late.” - you

“It’s awesome. I love it. It was probably very expensive, though. You didn't have to do this for me.” - Joe

“Of course I did. You deserve everything and more for all you do for me and those boys.” - you

Joe just looked at me, not exactly knowing what to say in return, so he put the chain back in the velvet box. I grabbed his last gift and handed it to him moments later.

It was a velvet bag, and when Joe opened it, he pulled out a silicone wristband. It was plain orange, so again, he looked at me for an explanation.

“Look on the inside.” - you

He did as I had said, smiling when he saw what was there. In a black block letter font, it had my initials, the twins, and the baby’s. I knew he wore his wristbands 24/7, so he would have a piece of us with him all of the time, especially on the field.

“This is so cool. It’s like I’ll always have you guys with me.” - Joe

“Mhm. Exactly.” - you

“Thanks, baby. I love everything.” - Joe

Joe leaned forward and pulled me into a hug. I leaned into him for a few seconds before pulling back and giving him a quick kiss.

“I was right when I said you spoiled me.” - Joe laughed

“We aren't done with the spoiling just yet! You have one last surprise. It’s in your office.” - you

I laughed when Joe bit his lower lip and wiggled his eyebrows at me, knowing his office was where we would sneak off during the day because the twins would think Joe was working if they noticed we were gone.

“Not that!” - you

After lightly slapping his bicep to tell him to cut it out, we both got up from the couch and made our way to Joe’s office. Joe, of course, had to give me some assistance to get up, but I couldn’t complain about my handsome husband using his football muscles to help me.

“Is something gonna jump out at me?” - Joe

I rolled my eyes at his silliness before pushing open the door. Joe plopped down on the leather couch facing the projector screen, waiting patiently for his last surprise. When I rolled out a little cart, Joe was completely confused with what he saw.

“What is that? Is… is that lube??” - Joe

Again laughing at him, Joe looked at me with pure seriousness.

“It’s a gel, Joe. It’s an at-home ultrasound machine.” - you

Joe’s jaw dropped open at the surprise. Though he always tried to make it to every single one of my appointments, there were times that he couldn't make it due to football or brand partnership-related things. Knowing that I had to go into an ultrasound alone made him feel devastated every time, even going as far as to question if football was even worth it.

This was the last thing he expected, and it was so thoughtful that he couldn't help his eyes getting watery. It took me a minute to notice, but when I did, I walked toward the couch and wrapped my arms around his shoulders.

“Aww, baby.” - you

Joe buried his head into my neck, muffling his sniffles.

“Thank you.” - Joe

“You’re so welcome. Do you want to try it out? You can be my ultrasound tech.” - you giggled

After looking through the instructions and getting it working, along with figuring out how to work it, I laid back on the couch, and Joe was lifting my shirt.

“You good?” - Joe

“Perfect.” - you nod

I watched as he applied the gel to my stomach before placing the transducer on it. He started moving it around, recalling everything he'd watched during my ultrasounds. I couldn't help but giggle at the focused look on his face as he searched for the heartbeat, and a few moments later, we heard the familiar whooshing sound.

“I did it!” - Joe

Joe did a little happy dance in his office chair, drawing a laugh from my lips before my eyes were glued to the monitor.

“If this whole NFL thing ends badly, I could always do this.” - Joe

I rolled my eyes at him before he leaned down for a kiss. We wrapped up a few minutes later, and Joe cleaned my stomach up for me.

We shared an embrace for a few moments, just giving each other light touches as we held on to one another.

“I love youuuu.” - Joe

“I love you too.” - you grinned

-

Thirty minutes later, we all subsided into the living room to watch a movie before the twins had to go to bed. I was sprawled out on the couch on my back, Joe lying on his side with his back against the back of the couch as he tucked himself into me. Joe had his head on my chest, his arm thrown around me just above my bump.

Now and then, I’d lean over and press a kiss on his forehead. Joe, in turn, would cuddle deeper into me. I had one arm around his shoulders to go between playing with his messy curls and rubbing his back while my other hand gently rubbed the arm of his that was draped over my middle.

I loved cuddling with Joe. I never took it for granted, feeling thankful that I had a man who loved laying with me just as much I loved laying with him.

Joe slowly started falling asleep, and I grinned when I felt his eyelashes flutter closed against my neck.

The twins were both on one of the loveseats, intently watching one of their favorite movies, Ratatouille. A blissful smile spread on my lips as I watched the reflection of the TV in their baby blue eyes.

-

When the movie ended, though it was nine o'clock, the twins still seemed to have all of the energy in the world. They ran around the dark living room playing what they called ‘jungle’ where they were both tigers - “Like the mascot for Daddy’s team” - running through a deep jungle.

I was surprised that Joe hadn't woken up yet because they weren't necessarily being quiet. It had been a long day, and I was feeling tired, so I let my eyes close for a few minutes.

I reopened my eyes when the room fell silent, a clear sign that the boys were up to something. My eyes snapped open to see Miles and Tyson standing at the foot of the couch. Miles was holding my phone, pointing it toward Joe and me.

Miles would do this regularly. Taking my phone and videoing or taking pictures of Joe and me. I smiled when I saw the little grin on his lips, and Tyson was standing right behind him with a matching expression.

He angled the phone back down, seemingly done taking the video but not quite figuring out how to stop it.

“Mommy, help.” - Miles

Miles toddled over to me, handing my phone back to me, and I gasped when I saw my screen.

He hasn't been videoing. He was live on my Instagram. Miles was attached to my hip 24/7, so he knows how to take a video on Instagram stories. If you go to the camera and swipe to the end, you're on the live option. He must've pressed the button thinking it was starting a video, but instead, it started a live video that thousands of people were watching.

“Holy shit.” - you mumbled

I quickly ended it after that, but it was too late. Gracie Mcpherson sent me a text quickly after I ended it.

One of the boys livestreaming you and Joe’s cuddle sesh?? 😂

I guess so!! Did you happen to screen-record it? I need to see the damage. 😭

Attachment: 1 Movie

Thankfully, you can't see the messiness of our kitchen in the background. What you can see, though, is Joe fast asleep on my chest while I rubbed his back.

He's gonna get so much shit for this, you thought. Because of that, I started getting nervous, so I shook Joe awake.

“Mph..” - Joe

“Joe. Wake up.” - you

I continued shaking his shoulder till he leaned up, rubbing a hand over his face before locking eyes with me.

“What’s up?” - Joe

Handing him my phone with Gracie’s screen recording up, Joe’s eyes went wide when he realized what he was watching.

“Oh my god. Is it Miles recording?” - Joe

“Mhm.” - you nodded

I was honestly worried to see what his reaction would be, nervous that he'd be mad about it. I’d understand if he was, though. Joe was a private person, and his wife cuddling him was just live-streamed for everyone to see, and that's including his teammates, who will surely give him shit for it.

After the video ended, Joe handed me my phone back with a sigh.

“Are you mad?” - you

I searched his eyes for any sign of emotion, along with reading his body language. He seemed more tame than I expected.

“No. I'm not mad. Would I have wanted that to be out there? No. But it is, so that's that. Nothing I can do to go back in time and wipe it.” - Joe

“I shouldn't have closed my eyes for a couple of minutes. Miles wouldn't have taken my phone then.” - you

“Hey, hey. No. We’re not gonna do that, okay? This isn't your fault.” - Joe

I looked up at Joe with misty eyes, my raging pregnancy hormones making me feel even worse than I should.

“I just feel bad because you're so private, and such an intimate moment was just shown to everyone. You're probably gonna get made fun of by the guys, too. The media- they'll say stuff too. I'm sorry, Joe.” - you

Joe pulled me into his arms, my head going onto his shoulder as he ran his fingers through my hair and shushed me.

“It’s fine, baby. Seriously. If I get made fun of for cuddling with my wife, then so be it. In my eyes, that's a pretty amazing thing to be made fun of for.” - Joe

My crying slowed down, and I pulled away from his neck with a sniffle.

“How are you acting so okay about this?” - you

Joe chuckled, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and pulling me back into him before he pressed a couple of kisses to my forehead.

“It’s not that big of a deal to me. A year ago? I probably would've freaked. But I'm in a mental state right now where I don't care about what people say about us or me. My relationship and marriage with you are my number one priorities. So why would I care if people see that?” - Joe

I didn't know what to say. I thought Joe would have the complete opposite reaction, so I was distraught.

“I’m gonna put the twins to bed, okay? We can have our little date in bed after. Just relax, Mama. No big deal.” - Joe

“Are you sure?” - you

“I’m so sure.” - Joe

Before he climbed over me to get off the couch, Joe’s lips met mine in a soft kiss. Joe tried to put as much comfort into it as possible.

I watched him scoop Tyson up in one arm while holding Miles’s hand with the other as he walked up the stairs. After watching his tall frame disappear, I got up off of the couch.

I walked (waddled) into the kitchen and grabbed two slices of pie and the can of whipped cream for Joe and me before going upstairs and into our bedroom.

As I was walking there, I passed the bathroom across from the twins' room, where the door was wide open, and the scene inside made me grin.

Miles and Tyson were sitting on the counter, both holding their toothbrushes in their mouths as Joe stood in front of them, demonstrating with an imaginary toothbrush and walking them through brushing their teeth. I watched only for a few moments before I continued walking to the end of the hall.

-

Around twenty minutes later, Joe came striding into the bedroom with a smile on his face. His smile was infectious, so I couldn't help but match his expression.

“What’re you smiling at?” - you

“My gorgeous wife and that piece of pumpkin pie.” - Joe

I giggled as he rubbed his hands together and launched into bed next to me. Joe got comfortable under the covers before I put the plate of pie on his lap. He got a piece on his fork and was bringing it to his lips when he abruptly stopped.

“Fuck.” - Joe mumbled

“What’s wrong?” - you

He put the plate back on my lap and got out of bed, doing a silly run out of the door. He was gone for a few minutes before he came back with two drinks in his hands.

“Okay. If it’s bad, it’s definitely my fault. Everyone in the comments under recipe loved it.” - Joe

“Good to know.” - you

Joe crawled back into bed, finally taking a bite and making appreciative groans when he did. The first couple of sounds were normal before he started making louder, more exaggerated noises in hopes of making me laugh.

“Is it good?” - you laughed

He put a finger up before dramatically chewing up his bite and slapping his lips together before answering.

“Yes.” - Joe

“Alright.” - you chuckled

I grabbed the can of whipped cream off of my nightstand to put it on my slice of pie. Before I put it back down, Joe tapped my shoulder. I turned back towards him to see his head tipped back and mouth widened, asking for me to spray some in his mouth.

Giggling to myself as I shook the can up again, I pointed the top of the can into Joe’s mouth and sprayed a bunch in there. I watched his eyes go wide when I hadn't stopped a few seconds later, the whipped cream tower now touring out of the confines of his mouth.

When I pulled the can away from his mouth, Joe tilted his head up and let the mountain fall into his hands, some landing on his adorable face.

“What the hell, baby?” - Joe chuckled

He got up and went into the bathroom, probably to wash his hands, and while he was away, I took a sip of the Shirley Temple drink he had made for me.

“Mmmmm.” - you

Joe walked back into the bedroom, whipping his shirt off before pulling his sweatpants down his legs as well.

“Taste good?” - Joe laughed

I hadn't noticed his presence yet, so my eyes went wide when I looked over to see Joe only in his boxers. My gaze moved from his perfect face down to his torso before they moved lower. I shamelessly let my eyes linger on his crotch for a few heartbeats before I looked back up to his eyes. A knowing smirk found its way onto Joe’s face. He knew exactly what I was looking at.

Joe pretended to yawn, running a hand through his hair and purposely flexing his bicep. My eyes widened once again, and Joe had to chuckle when he got the reaction that he wanted.

“You’re so cute.” - Joe

He crawled into bed a second later, and we shared small talk as we ate our pie and drank our drinks.

“Did you have a good Father’s Day?” - you

“Are you kidding?! I had the best Father’s Day. Thanks for everything, baby.” - Joe

Joe leaned in and pressed his soft lips to mine. It was an innocent, sweet kiss at first, but when he pulled away, I smashed my lips back into his. He was taken aback at first at how quickly things heated up, but he went along with it because I had initiated it.

We were just starting to let our hands wander when Joe’s phone started ringing. He disengaged his lips from mine with an audible pop before rolling over and getting his phone off of his nightstand.

“It’s Ja’Marr.” - Joe

“You should answer then. If he’s calling this late, it's probably important, right?” - you

Joe nodded and answered the call, immediately rolling back over to me after saying a greeting. He attached his lips to my neck with his phone on his ear, one of my hands making its way into his messy curls. Joe, knowing my body like the back of his hand, found my sweet spot and made sure to suck on it. I gripped his hair, and he groaned into my neck.

It was after that that he detached his lips to mumble, “Yes. I'm in bed with y/n.” As soon as he finished his sentence, he went back to kissing my neck.

A few moments later, Joe pulled his head away after Ja’Marr said something I couldn't quite hear. Joe pulled the phone away from his ear and put him on speaker.

“Alright, you're on speaker.” - Joe

“Okay, thanks. Ya know I've gotta address it, Mrs. B. Does Joey B always cuddle on your chest like that?” - Ja’Marr

I giggled at the question, and Joe rolled his eyes, laying his head on my shoulder as he held the phone to my mouth.

“What if I told you he's doing it right now?” - you

Joe rolled his eyes yet again, and I heard Ja’Marr laugh.

“So he does it a lot?” - Ja’Marr

“Yup. I love it, though.” - you

“Ohhh. That's good. I was thinkin’ that girls weren't into that. Like they liked layin’ on our chests. Not the other way around.” - Ja’Marr

I grinned as Joe rubbed his cheek into my shoulder, my hand combing through his curls as I thought of what to say back to Ja’Marr.

“You have a lot to learn when it comes to women Ja’Marr. Joe and I can teach you, though.” - you

“Nah. I’m not trying to get married and be boring just yet.” - Ja’Marr

“Marriage isn't boring.” - Joe

Ja’Marr only laughed, and there were a few seconds of silence following it. During those seconds, my gaze fell on Joe’s perfect lips, so I leaned down to kiss him.

“Y’all have kids and shit. You can't have fun anymor- are you guys fuckin’ kissing??” - Ja’Marr

I pulled away from Joe with a giggle, immediately noticing his flushed cheeks.

“Yeah, and? Joe’s my husband. I'm allowed to kiss him. And Ja’Marr… you realize I'm pregnant now right?” - you

“Yes…?” - Ja’Marr

“And you know the twins are two. So that means they were here when I got pregnant.” - you

“Yup. I don't know where you're going with this, Mrs. B.” - Ja’Marr

“You know where babies come from right?” - you

I heard Joe laugh into my neck when he realized where I was headed with the joke.

“Yes ma'am.” - Ja’Marr sighed

“So if I got pregnant while already having two kids… that means that Joe and I are still having fun even if we have kids.” - you

I dramatically gasped to add to the effect, and Ja’Marr went silent on the other line. He usually teases the hell out of us when he notices a hickey on either of us or sees us kissing, so it’s funny to see him go silent over the same subject.

“I don't need to know about y'all havin’ sex. That's nasty.” - Ja’Marr

“Are you sure? You don't want to know about how much Joe loves it when-” - you

“No no no no!! Bye, guys. Goodnight.” - Ja’Marr

Joe and I erupted into laughter as Ja’Marr quickly hung up. Joe rolled over and put his phone back on the nightstand before he pulled me back into his chest and pressed his lips to mine.

“Let’s continue, shall we?” - Joe

I never fully answered and just pulled his face back to mine. We made out for a while before Joe groaned and pulled away to catch his breath. He was getting too worked up to keep going.

After watching Joe’s heaving chest for a moment, I rolled over, reaching over on my nightstand for the bottle of whipped cream.

“I kinda want more dessert.” - you

Joe looked up at me when I said that and noticed that I was shaking up the bottle of whipped cream.

“Do you want me to grab you another slice of pie?” - Joe

“No. Thank you, though. I'm feeling something different.” - you

“Well then. What're you thinking of?” - Joe

I looked Joe up and down, making sure the trail of my gaze to his feet was an anticipatory slow movement before I flicked my eyes back to his. Sending a loaded look Joe’s way, his mouth fell open when I said my next words.

“Take your boxers off.” - you

“W- what?” - Joe stammered

“I said I wanted dessert. Didn't I?” - you

My words went right to Joe’s crotch, and the amount of blood rushing to his dick was making it hard for him to think straight. After finally blinking after twenty seconds, Joe whipped his boxers off and tossed the covers off of him.

His cock was about semi-erect, all because of me just referring to his dick as dessert. I scooted over and got comfortable between his legs before reaching out and wrapping a hand around his erection. After a few strokes, Joe was fully hard and ready for action. I took the bottle of whipped cream and spread some on his balls.

Meanwhile, Joe was mentally preparing himself for what was about to happen. The woman he was obsessed with and so down bad for was about to lick whipped cream off his balls.

What he kept repeating in his head?

Don't fucking cum as soon as her tongue touches you. Don't fucking cum as soon as her tongue touches you. Don't fucking cum as soon as her tongue touches you.

I leaned down and licked a long stripe of the cream off of him, Joe throwing his head back and immediately letting out a loud moan at the feeling.

“Holy fuck! That feels amazing.” - Joe moaned

I kept my hand on his cock, pumping away as I continued to lick the sugary product off of him. The whimpers and moans leaving Joe’s lips were loud and continuous, a byproduct of the pure pleasure he felt.

“Fuck… fuck… fuck.” - Joe panted

Joe couldn't help from moaning out. The feeling was overwhelming and insane. After getting all of the topping off of him, I continued to alternate sucking one of his balls into my mouth while I quickly jerked him off.

“Oh- oh fuck.” - Joe whimpered

I grabbed the can and once again smeared the topping on him, even trailing a line up the underside of his cock from base to tip. Though my hand wasn't fully wrapped around him, I kept my thumb on his tip and teased the slit in a way that had Joe whimpering.

“Please…” - Joe moaned

Teasing him for a few more seconds, after I was content with the way he was squirming, I leaned down and started licking everything off of his cock.

“Fuck! Oh my- fuck!” - Joe whimpered

I started with one of his balls before licking it clean and moving to the other one, repeating the process before licking a long stripe up the underside of Joe’s erection.

Joe was gripping the sheets, and his hips started bucking off of the bed, a telltale sign he was close to orgasm. The look on his face was something I'd never seen before, and I could tell he was trying his hardest to hold on as long as possible.

Noticing that he was close, I closed my mouth around his tip and slowly moved down his length inch by inch.

“Fuck, baby.” - Joe grunted

It only took a minute or so for him to throw his head back with a moan, immediately warning me that he was falling over the edge.

“Shit- I'm cumming.” - Joe moaned

Seconds later, he shot his load down my throat, and I watched him through my eyelashes as he moaned and whimpered through his climax. There was nothing hotter than that very sight, where every muscle of his was flexing and glistening with sweat, veins were popping out of his neck, chest, and arms, his chest was heaving, and his adorable face was scrunched up.

I loved knowing that this Joe was purely mine and that I was the only person that's ever seen him and had him like this. All mine.

After a few moments of cockwarming him with my mouth, I pulled off and rolled back into my spot on the bed. Any other time, I’d get a wet rag and clean him up. Right now, though, I'm almost nine months pregnant and am frankly too tired to spend five minutes trying to get up.

It took Joe a few minutes to get his breathing back to normal, but when he did, he got out of bed and went into the bathroom to clean himself up. He returned moments later and put his boxers back on before sliding back under the covers. When he did, he faced me with a dirty grin on his face, his top teeth biting his lower lip.

“Yes?” - you giggled

“Can I have extra dessert too?” - Joe

My pulse picked up when I realized what he was insinuating, and Joe crawled over me to where he was between my legs after pulling the comforter back.

“What do you have in mind?” - you grinned

“I think you already know, Mama.” - Joe

Joe sent a dirty wink my way as he wrapped his arms around my thighs and pulled me closer to him, pulling my panties down with his teeth once I was in the position he liked.

After tossing my panties on the floor behind him, Joe helped me lean up, and he took his shirt off of my body. He tossed that as well, and the stupidly sexy smug grin formed on his lips when he propped my legs up and spread them wide. His icy stare was shooting bullets right at the heaven he believed was between my legs.

“Joey.” - you breathed out

Joe grinned at the breathlessness in my tone and grinned up at me, his eyes finally meeting my own.

“Yes ma'am?” - Joe grinned

“You’re gonna have to do this fast.” - you

“Yes ma'am.” - Joe repeated

Another wink was sent my way as Joe started to lower his head, but I abruptly stopped him, and he leaned back up. I grabbed the whipped cream off of my nightstand and offered it to him, thinking he'd want to reciprocate what I did to him.

“No thanks. You already taste perfect.” - Joe

Butterflies filled my stomach - and other places - at the words leaving his lips and the gruff, hoarse voice he spoke in. Probably due to how loud he was moaning just a few minutes ago.

“Can I start now?” - Joe

I nodded, and Joe lowered his head after licking his lips. He was acting like a kid in a candy store.

“Happy Father’s Day to me.” - Joe grinned

Authors note: IDK what to say. There wasn't supposed to be smut but Joe’s been too hot lately. 😜

This came from my own head!

Hope you enjoyed!! 🫶🫶

[francixoxoxo]

˚✧ ₊Something ˚. ʚ

Billy the Kid x Reader

You’re pregnant with Billy’s baby, and it’s taking a bit of a toll on you. You have a breakdown, and Billy soothes you.

TW: reader is pregnant, weight insecurity, mentions of miscarriage

Basically pure angst and comfort, sorryyyyy (not sorry)

It was times like these that you wished God made you a man.

Not to say you weren’t in awe of yourself. You were carrying a human life— wasn’t that something? Your mother was insistent on specific teas and herbs to help the baby. Your friends were giddy with excitement, you being the first of them all to have a baby. Your husband? You didn’t think Billy could be more protective than if he locked you in a safe.

He argued his way into plenty of late-start workdays to take care of you when you felt sick. He was wary of you going out on particularly hot days, as if you’d melt. When he was with you, in public or not, he tucked you to his side and kept an iron grip on you. You were his sweetest girl, and now that you were pregnant? Oh, if he could hide you from every danger, he would. He certainly tried.

But Billy couldn’t keep you from every difficulty that came with pregnancy. He held your hair back from your face as you vomited, but he couldn’t keep your food down for you. He’d rub your feet before you fixed your lips to ask, as if to make up for not being able to carry you everywhere you needed.

“M’ sorry.” Billy cooed to you as you laid in bed one night, gently rubbing that spot in your hip you’d admitted was hurting. You shook your head, the dim moonlight filtering through the window gratefully letting him see your soft smile.

“Not your fault.” You murmured, nose-to-nose with him, your eyes flicking twixt his concerned blue ones. You couldn’t have found a better man’s baby to have.

Billy shook his head gently but with an adamant and dark expression. He pet some hair back from your face. “Well, I did this t’you, didn’t I?”

Your eyes smiled with your lips at his words. “And I’m glad you did.” You couldn’t resist moving in closer, your nose burying into his chest. His strong arms immediately wrapped around you to hold you close to him. Calloused fingertips lightly trailed along your ribs, you felt the faintest touch of his lips to your hairline.

It wasn’t a lie. You were happy to be a mother, really.

But that happiness tended to subside when you passed a mirror. Oh, you’d gained so much. You mentioned it once to Billy, but he shut it down quickly by assuring you how beautiful he found you. His words had stuck with you for perhaps a day before the self-hatred seeped in again.

Or when Billy came home late, a bassinet or a changing table in tow, grinning ear-to-ear, and you wouldn’t dare to but wanted to yell what a waste it would end up being. Self-hatred wasn’t simply for what was on the surface— you were certain your body would fail you, and more importantly that it would let down Billy. But you hadn’t dared breathe a word to him. Not when he smiled so brightly as he looked over his shoulder at you, setting the wooden cradle down in the small room dedicated as the nursery.

Billy had begged you to not go on horseback rides anymore, now that you were (according to him) fragile. You assured him you wouldn’t, soothing his already high-strung nerves over you.

Yet here you were, galloping about as fast as your horse could dash without his heart bursting a gasket. Tears were already stinging your eyes, the wind whipping your hair behind you. You were riding so furiously that you were standing on the stirrups, bent over and gripping the reins like a professional jockey.

Your mind was just swimming. You were seven months along by now, and you never felt worse. Perhaps it was just a day, or a week, or a month— but you couldn’t bottle it up. Billy wasn’t home, and you supposed it would be better to empty your rotten feelings in an empty field than onto your poor lover’s lap. Your heart clenched at the thought of what he’d say. Oh, you’d break his heart, surely.

And you weren’t keen on hurting Billy, not when he was the one thing holding you together. The thought of him now reminded you to breathe, you hadn’t realized the burn in your lungs. You even dared taking your hand off the reins to wipe the hot tears off your cheeks.

Eventually you found your spot. It’d been so long since you came here, just the sight of the sun-warmed rocks poking out from the river made your heart lighten. You tied your horse to a tree, discarding your boots at its roots. The grass was pleasantly warm under your bare feet, your eyes trained on the wildflowers blooming as the earth sloped down slightly to the riverbank. Here, tears slipped from you like nothing. You sank into the long grass, laying back and letting the fronds tickle the skin your chemise exposed.

If the river overflowed from the buckets of tears you cried, you would hardly be surprised. The breath was utterly stolen from your lungs as you wept, a hand over your heart and consequently the increased swell of your breast. Just the subtle reminder of the way your body had changed made you bawl harder. Oh, how you wanted it off you! You wanted it all to stop, for it all to go away. But that desperate want washed guilt over you.

How could you want your baby gone?

You didn’t! You didn’t, you told yourself, wiping at the tears that wouldn’t ebb. You loved this baby before you’d even met it. And now that fear was clawing at your heart again, threatening to rip it into strings, the fear that you never would meet it.

Perhaps it was your weeping that drew Billy to that creek, perhaps it pierced through to his heart like an arrow all the way from home. He hardly took a peek around your quaint house before hopping back on his horse. And at the perfect moment, when you thought you simply couldn’t bear such heavy feelings any longer, you heard the sound of boots on grass.

You lifted your head, catching your breath and peering over the overgrown, tall blades of glass to see Billy’s face looking back down at you. Wasn’t he the image of an angel? He immediately sunk to his knees beside you, that angelic face screwed up in concern as he cooed, “Oh, baby, my baby.. Hush, don’t cry, hon..”

Something about Billy’s strong arms practically scooping you up to lean against his broad chest had you sobbing mightily. You turned your cheek into him, wetting his work shirt and smelling deeply his musk, tinged with sweat. The low timbre of his voice willing you to calm down had mixed effects. In certain ways you felt safe. As though everything was suddenly all-right. And in other ways, you felt so unbelievably helpless.

Frankly? It terrified Billy. He clutched you tight, running his calloused palms up and down your arms, over the rise of your belly, stroking your wet cheeks. He can’t remember a time he’s seen you so distressed. It feels like years until your sobs delve into soft, shudders gasps and sighs, the skin ‘round your eyes rubbed raw. You’ve stopped trying to wipe the tears away, but Billy’s taken up the job, diligently swiping the wetness away from your pretty eyes and cheeks with his thumb.

after you calmed, you croaked a soft, “Sorry.” Billy shook his head adamantly, knitting his brows.

“Don’t apologize, baby. You ain’t done anything wrong.” He cooed gently, wrapping his arms around your front and pulling you even closer to his chest. Your heart was weary, your stomach heavy. But Billy made it all just a bit better. You could feel more than see his blue eyes flicking between your face and your belly. “What’s wrong?”

You pressed your lips nervously. You let your gaze fall on the running brook, the quiet rushing of water over rock soothing. Billy’s roughened hand came to lay over yours on your lap, giving to the strength to admit, “I’m miserable.”

Billy paused in nearly every way. You thought that his heart stopped a beat, and you were certain his breath hitched. “What d’you mean?” He squeezed your hand.

“I..” You caught yourself on the verge of admitting your darkest fear, silently reprimanding yourself and deciding to admit the less painful one. “I look so different. Not in a good way.. I’m so much fatter, Billy.” Your voice wavered as you spoke; even if it was vain, or the least of your problems, it still weighed on you. It still hurt.

“Oh, baby..” Billy sighed, nosing your hair and shaking his head a bit. “You aren’t fat. You’re so, so goddamn beautiful.”

Your lips pulled, threatening to part in a sob before you swallowed it down. Tears came back to your eyes. Why couldn’t you believe his words? “I’m not. Look at me! I’m a planet. I don’t know how you can stand to look at me.” Your voice cracked, much to your embarrassment. Your hands went to cover your eyes but Billy gently pulled them away. He tilted your chin to meet your eyes, his own peering at you like you were mad, or some poor creature. As if you’d offended him by talking so poorly about yourself.

Billy murmured your name and shook his head adamantly again. “You’re carryin’ a baby. My baby. A damn life.” He paused, eyes silently flicking twixt yours for a moment, trying to see if his words were sinking in. “Maybe your body’s a little different, but I think you look perfect. Might even be more attracted t’you, if that’s possible.” Billy cooed, his voice somehow gentle and firm at once. A smirk crept across his face at that last bit, only growing upon seeing your slight smile.

But his expression became concerned and serious again after a moment, he furrowed his brows. “Don’t talk bad ‘bout my girl like that, baby. You’re just as gorgeous as ever. Frankly, I like that you’re a little softer now. Just a little more of you t’hold.” Billy went on until your faint smile broadened, tightening his arms around you as he worked a blush out of you.

The insecurity didn’t leave you, but his words were enough to wash out the self-hatred. If Billy loved you, surely you could too. The way he was looking at you right now honestly had you believing he thought you an angel. Because he did, in every way. “Th-thank you..” You mumbled after a while, wiping your eyes and grimacing, nuzzling your cheek further against his chest. His warm, calloused palm rubbed up and down your arm. “I love you.”

“I love you more n’ anything.” Billy said it like it was the easiest thing. As if he was born knowing it, and you should’ve understood by now. Yet still, it eluded you just how he could adore you so much. Perhaps he could see that haze in your eyes as you averted your gaze to the grass, thinking on that. Would he still love you if your body killed his baby? Never mind the fact that it was your baby as well— it was Billy’s too, and he was so, so excited for it.. How would you live with yourself if Billy’s baby died?

“But that’s not the only thing, is it?” Billy murmured, snapping you out of your thoughts. When you looked up at him, you realized tears blurred his face. He wiped them away as you blinked them onto your cheeks.

You couldn’t keep a thing from him, not now. You shook your head, feeling a rock lodge in your throat when you opened your mouth to speak. He squeezed your arm gently, furrowing his brows and kissing your temple as reassurance. “Y’don’t have to—“

“—I’m afraid that I’ll kill the baby.”

Billy’s eyes went buggy, and that rock in your throat settled into your stomach. Your word lingered in the air for a few agonizingly long, painful moments, before your lover nodded slightly, throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. “You’re scared you’ll miscarry.” He rephrased, voice soft and subtly curious.

Tears flowed now like your body was dispelling every emotion it had ever experienced. Billy pulled you to him tighter, cooing soft words to you. “Hush, baby. You’re okay. You ain’t.. You’re healthy as a horse, sweetheart. What put that into your head?”

You’d been right. Your words broke his heart.

Your words came twixt sobs and needy gulps of air. “M-my momma— lost three, n’— Oh, I’m scared that—“ You were driving yourself hysterical. Billy hushed you, a hand on the back of your head pulling your face to his heartbeat. His lips were glued to your hair. “I know, baby, I know. I know.”

Oh, it felt like years ‘till you cried all the tears your eyes could make. You weren’t sure when Billy had pulled you more into his lap, your head tucked into his neck, his hand rubbing up and down your ribs while the other laid over your belly. He could feel subtle kicks now and then, but his heart was too heavy from seeing you so distraught that he couldn’t find it in him to be giddy at the feeling.

The fronds of long grass ticked your legs and bare feet, the sound of rushing water and Billy’s soothing voice filling your ears. “I feel like I’ll fail you.” You admitted softly, letting your eyes flutter closed as he smoothed a hand over your hair.

“Impossible.” Billy dismissed, his voice a firm murmur into your hair. “It wouldn’t happen. I won’t let y’entertain the idea.” His brows were pulled into a taught furrow, he blinked away the stinging in his eyes. “It wouldn’t be your fault.” He added. You nodded a bit, grimacing.

Whether it was the exhilarating lightness of simply having it off your chest or Billy’s loving assurance, your mind felt less murky. You felt ten tons lighter, tucked safely in your lovers arm, your skin tickled by warm grass and your eyes closed after a long bawl. “I’m sorry for all this fuss.” You mumble.

Billy pressed his slightly chapped lips to your hairline, his own eyes shutting. His stubble scratching your brow was a welcome reminder of his omnipresence. “Nothin’ to apologize for.”

The silence lingered a moment before you broke it again. “You’re my rock. Did I ever tell you that?” You lifted your face, craning your neck to look up at Billy. He was smiling sweetly, his lips just barely pulled over his teeth. His hand that wasn’t busy rubbing your belly was finding its way into your hair.

“You never had to.” Billy shook his head. his eyes dropped to your lips, which had found their way into a smile to mirror his, much to his delight. He pressed a kiss to them, relishing in your soft exhale. You hoped that he understood all your emotions as you out them into this kiss, all the love, the anguish, the appreciation.

He most definitely understood it all.

Billy held you for a long while after, in that sun-warmed clearing. Somehow you both came to lay in the grass on your backs, hands clasped in the gap twixt you. You stared up at the few clouds adorning the bright sky. Billy stared at you, bringing your clasped hands to your belly and flipping his to lay beside yours on the large expanse of it. His thumb brushed over the bump through the thin linen of your chemise.

Billy shook his head, smiling in that sweet way of his again and meeting your gaze. His own azure eyes glimmered with a kind of joy that you wouldn’t trade for anything.

“You’ll be a good mother.” He whispered, as if the brook wasn’t empty save for you two. “And you’re gonna make me a father, sweet thing.” Those words were breathed with reverence. Billy was simply in awe of you; of what your body was capable of. Of your soul, and your heart. Your sheer beauty, in every curve and edge. He made it clear to you with every move he made and every word he uttered. You couldn’t help a smile spreading over your cheeks, your swollen eyes turning into crescents along with your lips.

“I’m glad it’s you.” Your words were just as quiet and hushed as his. And they needed no explanation. Billy never needed one to understand you.

[womenloverlmao]

Your Loser

Charlie Walker x GN! Reader

Warnings: None? Maybe some cursing?

In which the reader braids Charlie's hair

0.6K words

You were forcing your boyfriend to listen to your music while cuddling, which wasn’t a very uncommon experience in your relationship. You loved each other to bits and pieces, but you two could never seem to agree on any media type. You watched different movies, had different views on streaming, and could never agree on music. 

“Can we not listen to Billy Joel?” He whines into your chest. His head was there, and you had a leg thrown over his hip. 

“Again, I don’t even know what you have against him. He’s like… one of the most amazing artists in the world. You can’t even talk, you listen to Weezer and shit like that.” 

He scoffs. “I didn’t say anything about how amazing he is or not, just asked if we could stop listening to him.” 

You sighed, but you let up. You got up, and then he whined. “You’re being a baby,” you roll your eyes. “I’ll be back in a second, you were the one who wanted to listen to something else.” 

Taking the CD out, you grabbed another one. Of course, you had to choose The Beatles. That was one of them that he could obviously tolerate although he didn’t particularly like it. Occasionally, he would even sing along. You made it play I wanna hold your hand, which was your favorite. 

When you turned around and saw him sprawled out on your bed, you rolled your eyes. You couldn’t deny that this was your favorite sight, no matter how silly it seemed. You sat on the edge of the bed, and he looked over at you confused. “Come sit,” you patted between your legs. 

“Why?” 

“Just listen, dumbass-” You said. He rolled his eyes, before getting the stool you had for your vanity and placing it between your legs, looking up at you as he sat down. “Other way.” 

He looked more confused but did so; you brushed out his hair with your fingers. “Is this what you wanted?” He asks. 

“Partially, just hold still,” you say. He did listen to you, despite not knowing what you were doing. 

You divided it into three strands, before methodically twisting them together. It was gonna be a small braid, but it was fun to do anyway. Once you finished, he asked, “Did you just braid my hair?” 

“No, I actually just left it alone,” you said sarcastically. You undid it, before doing it again. You did that a few times, and you knew he liked it even if he was pretending he didn't. 

“Why did we have to move for this?” He groaned. 

“Because,” you responded. You looked it over, before undoing it again. “I think I’m gonna give you two.” 

He whined. “I just wanna cuddle, though…” 

You sighed. “If I let you pick the music after this, will you let me finish?” 

Safe to say he shut up after that. 

You went back to twisting the strands together, and he obviously enjoyed the little moment despite the complaints. He enjoyed it even more than you did, as you continued your movements before tying it up and doing the same with the other side. 

After that, he decided he would leave the music as it was. To be honest, Weezer, Nirvana, or other things he listened to weren’t exactly songs to cuddle to. Even though he thought it was kind of stupid, he let Meet the Beatles continue to play as he laid down with you. 

“You look pretty,” you told him as you looked over what you did. He turned pink, and hid his face in your chest again. 

“‘M not pretty,” he says. 

“Stop pretending to be a teenage dirtbag for two seconds, you’re pretty, you loser,” you say to him. You called him a loser a lot, but he knew it was endearing. He was your loser, no matter how stupid it sounded. 

“I love you,” he mumbled into you. 

“I know, baby. I love you too.” 

[jakeyt]

Something

Pairing: Jake Kiszka x f!Reader

Summary: On a rainy day, Jake's Les Paul gives you an idea.

Word Count: 6.7k+

Warnings: fluff <3; cursing; sexually explicit content (18+, MINORS DNI); light dom/sub; oral sex (m + f receiving); unprotected penetrative sex

a/n: so, i was watching gvf's pinkpop performance of wod/highway tune yesterday (my personal fav) . . .and i got a filthy idea. i couldn't get it out of my head, so 6,700+ words later, here we are. this is the first smut i'm putting on here, so i'm admittedly very nervous. 🥲

if there is some possible way you haven't heard 'something' by the beatles, i would give it a listen while you read :)

thank you to @joshym for always proofreading/editing. ily <3

i hope this filth is received kindly lmao <3

🌧️🎶

Something

It was a lazy morning in the middle of spring. The flowers that you were watering right outside your home were in full bloom. The sight made you happy, and the strumming on the guitar that you heard through the open window made your heart flutter. A small smile was fitted to your face.

Life couldn’t get any better. 

The guys were on a slight break from their recent touring, giving you ample time with your boyfriend, Jake. 

You missed him terribly when he was gone on tour. Though, you had decided years ago when you’d started dating, that you didn’t want to live your life only to follow him along wherever he went. You wanted him to have his own time. Time to himself, with his brothers, to live out his passion. And had made the decision for yourself, too — you couldn’t abandon your own life plans like that.

You had dreamt forever of being a teacher, and you loved your students too much to leave them behind. And Jake loved that about you. He wanted you to be able to have the career you’d wanted for so long, just as he had his. His appreciation for your career only encouraged you more to stay behind and do what you loved. 

But these moments? You wished life was different. You wished you were living in a timeline where the two of you could always be together. 

The sounds he made while playing his guitar soothed you. He was playing some of your shared favorites on his guitar, making butterflies erupt. He knew how much music meant to you, just as it did him.

He loved that you two shared the understanding that there was intimacy like no other in music. These melodies you heard made it so clear that he was communicating to you through the melodies. Different tunes took you through untouchable moments in time. Moments the two of you had so sweetly shared. 

The thunder that rolled in the clouds above you shook you slightly from your love-struck thoughts. You peeked up to see the sky. In your daze, clouds had started to gather above. When you’d come out an hour or so ago, the sky was mostly blue, only a few clouds littering. 

The rain started coming quicker than you could cooperate with. You ran to the spout to turn off the hose water, and as you turned it off, you realized you left the hose itself draped across the lawn. 

Dammit. Now you’d have to go back around the house to gather it all up. You wished you had grabbed it when you came to the spout. As you smashed your feet though the grass that only seemed to continually grow wetter and wetter by the stomp, you turned the corner to come back to the front of your house. 

You had no choice but to halt your steps, colliding with a hard chest. You almost slipped in the wet grass. You looked up to the person in front of you, already knowing it was Jake. 

Your eyebrows scrunched. “Go back in! You’re going to get wet,” your voice elevated as the rain seemed to start coming down even harder. 

You were already completely drenched, your hair heavy on your head, just as the clothes on your body. You watched him bite his lip. Hooded eyes scanned over you, stopping at your tank top, where your nipples were completely hardened underneath.

He blinked away the lust in his eyes and got back to the topic at hand.

“Babe,” his voice was also loud. “I’m already soaked,” he laughed, looking down to his partially-open button down. The rain was creating perfect droplets on his tanned chest. One of his toned pecs flexed slightly at the feeling of it. Your thighs tightened at the sight of it, a jolt at your core. “Just go inside, let me finish this.” 

You then looked down to where his hand had moved slightly and noticed the hose was in his grip. Tears then grew in your eyes at the sentiment. 

“Jake,” your tone was one of complete adoration, for more reasons than one. 

He was already wrapping the hose around his arm. He had a small smile on his face when he repeated, “Go. Inside.”

Your cheeks flushed and your bare feet shuffled to move past him, slipping slightly in the grass. From behind you, you heard him shout, “Baby, please be careful!” 

🌧️🎶

You continued to heed his advice and moved with balanced steps on the hardwood floors of your home. The soles of your feet were daring to slip. 

You glimpsed the living room. You saw how he’d laid his acoustic guitar on the chair. It was odd to find it out of its case, or away from a stand. He’d obviously put it  down in a rush to help you as soon as the rain had started. 

Your heart springed in your chest, just thinking of the way he was. 

You were moving to put the guitar in its case or on the stand, when the sounds of your wet clothing made you think better of it. 

You were sloshing and dripping everywhere you went. You could hear your clothes and the slaps of the water falling to meet the floor. It wouldn’t be much of a repayment for you to soak one of his prized possessions, now would it? 

You decided to continue on to the master bathroom. Your skin was beginning to crawl at the feeling of your sticky clothing and heavy hair. 

You flipped on the shower and as it seemed to instantly fog the bathroom (yay, warm water), you hastily stripped your shorts and tank top.

🌧️🎶

A while later, you were drying your hair in the bedroom and he was taking his shower in the master bath. 

Once your hair was dry enough for your liking, you rolled the cord around the base of the dryer and put it away. 

You rolled the sleeves to the sweatshirt you’d chosen to wear. You were now at a loss for what to do on a rainy day. 

You sat on your shared bed. Your eyes traveled around the bedroom. Then, they landed on his worn red Les Paul, sitting so prettily on the stand. 

Suddenly, an idea entered your mind that you simply couldn’t shake. Your cheeks flushed at the thought.

A sly smirk graced your features, and you had to cross your legs at the thoughts you were having. 

You suddenly knew exactly how you wanted to spend your rainy day. 

🌧️🎶

You waited a while to bring the idea up to Jake. You thought it would entice him, but bringing up new ideas for the bedroom could be slightly daunting to you. 

You knew he loved everything you’d thought to do up until this point, but this one involved his first love. You were intimidated to bring his Les Paul into the bedroom, but you just had to try what was now settling in your mind. 

You hoped he’d be okay with it. 

A movie was rolling on in the background as the two of you sat, curled up on the couch. The rain still pitter-pattered against the roof and windows. You were so comfortable, legs strewn over him, one of his hands going back and forth between your thighs, massaging the tops of them.  

Your hand played in his long hair. Jake was scrolling through Pinterest, scheming what he wanted to make for dinner. His lips smooshed together and shifted back and forth as he pondered. 

The way he expertly rubbed your thighs, the fullness of his pink lips, and the mustache that sat on his upper lip was making your tummy do somersaults. 

These simple things, along with your guitar thoughts, had your core quivering for more.  

It was now or never. 

“So, babe,” you halted your movements in his hair. Your hands came to rest in your blanket-covered lap. 

You connected eyes with him, and his lips pouted, “Why’d you stop?” 

You sighed, moving your legs so that you were sitting criss-cross underneath the blanket. When you moved, his hand had fallen from your legs. His bottom lip jutted out even further. 

“Jake,” you started again, fiddling with a loose blanket thread. “How would you— I was thinking—,” you huffed. Just spit it out. “Would you be okay with—. Ugh.” 

“Sweetie,” he laid a hand on your thigh again, giving it a reassuring squeeze. His phone clicked off, and he scooted up from his spot, turning to look at you directly. “It’s just me.”

You looked in his eyes. “Earlier, I thought of something,” you turned your body to face him more. “A new idea for the bedroom.”

His eyes blinked at the subject. “Oh, yeah?” His lips quirked. “You know I’m always down for new ideas.” 

You grew some confidence at him reminding you of what you already knew about him. “You know how music is so important to us both,” he nodded, a sweet grin gracing his full lips at the fact. “Well, I was thinking . . .how would you feel about playing your guitar?” His eyes were questioning. You continued, “While I. . . While I blow you?” 

He started coughing on a breath he drew. You looked up to see his eyes watering as he struggled to breathe. You patted at his back. The smallest tear escaped his eye and he got up from the couch. 

You followed him to the kitchen where he opened the fridge door and grabbed a bottle of water. 

He took a long swig from the bottle. And when he released one more cough after that drink, he took another. 

He came towards you, meeting you at the island in the middle of the kitchen, eyes still watering. “I’m sorry, that was just—.” He shook his head, “It was just.”

You stepped back, nerves creeping all over again. “Oh,” You cast your eyes downward. “Okay. I totally get it. That’s why I didn’t want to bring it up. I know that involving the guitar probably wasn’t the best ide—.”

You felt his hands grip your shoulders, your head coming up. You blinked at him. “Baby,” he gave a huff of a laugh. “That is the complete opposite of how I feel about the idea. I think it’s a fucking brilliant idea.”

Your eyes grew bigger. You stepped closer to him, “Really?”

“Sweetie,” his eyes were soft again, consoling your fading worries. “The woman I love most sucking my dick while I play the guitar?” He draped his arms around your waist, bringing your front to his. You could feel a familiar hardness against your hip.

“There’s some rules, though,” you let the feeling pressed to your hip encourage you further, pushing into it. He groaned at the move. “You would have to play a song of my choosing,” you paused. “One you know, of course. But. . .,” You looped your arms around his neck. “If you mess up —if one chord is even slightly off . . . I'll stop.”

His cock pulsed against you. “Holy shit,” he breathed. 

He scooped his hands underneath your ass and sat you on top of the island. His voice was low and sultry when he said, “Am I totally naked while I’m playing?” 

You hadn’t even thought of how naked he’d be behind the instrument. You felt your shorts get wet at the thought, having spared your underwear after the shower.

“Oh yeah,” your tone dripped with lust. You laced your legs around his waist, bringing him as close as he could come to you. “And you have to play it laying on your back. In this plan, we’ll be on the bed.”

“Sounds like a good challenge,” he smirked. Then, he seriously asked. “Electric or acoustic?”

“Electric.”

His brown irises were the darkest you’d seen them in a long time. Your skin heated at his look. You didn’t have time to think as he dove in and crashed his lips to yours. Your pussy flexed at the action. 

The urgency behind his kiss caused you to fly straight back. Your shoulders would have hit the counter hard if he hadn’t strategically placed his arms to be a cushion for your back. 

He dipped his tongue between your lips, and massaged your own tongue with his. He licked at every part of your mouth, wanting to taste you. You could only hope you tasted as good as he did. He tasted like his minty fresh toothpaste. Any time Jake showered, even if it was mid-day or late at night, he brushed his teeth. It was almost like a ritual for him. You loved his attention to hygiene.

He took his mouth from yours and started kissing a wet trail down your neck. He licked a trail from your collarbone all the way to your jawline and you lustily whined for the duration of the action. 

“My love,” he said into your ear. He then went behind your ear and nipped at the sensitive skin. “I want to hear you as much as I can. Be loud.”

He then completely abandoned your upper half, your legs falling from his hips. He knelt in front of you to rip away your sweatshorts. 

You felt his warm breath against your thigh, in contrast to the open air hitting your naked center. He hotly said, “No underwear?”

“Nope. It didn’t align with my plan.”

“You would be correct, sweet girl,” his breath was soothing steam against your sticky heat. His hands grabbed the undersides of your thighs, kneading the flesh. 

And then you felt his tongue go completely flat at your slit. He licked a precise stripe up the center of your folds. From the very bottom of your pussy to right above your clit, he’d added a healthy amount of wetness. 

You groaned, earning you a few more expert slides of his tongue, back and forth over the same area he’d treated before. Though, the more he went, the sloppier they got. It always went this way: the wetter and louder you were, the less meticulous he became. 

He couldn’t ever seem to concentrate, with how your sounds and reactions affected him. He always said that the way you reacted to sex sent shockwaves to his mind. Nothing else could make him go so wild.

Hence the fun of your idea.

He gripped your thighs, bringing them down closer to him. And before you knew it, he was balancing your bare legs on his shoulders, standing up with his arms wrapped around your back. He was keeping you steady as he moved you both to the bedroom. 

His mouth didn’t leave your heat for even a second. 

The trek wasn’t long, or else you’d have been out of sorts worried about causing his shoulders and back irreparable damage.

And he didn’t give you much time to think as he placed your backside delicately on the bed, sitting up. He rose from how he’d had to kneel to sit you down, opting to strip you of your oversized sweatshirt. 

Your breasts immediately flared with goosebumps at the change in temperature. The cool air forced your nipples into even harder peaks. The way he was looking at them made your cheeks warm. 

“I just love your fucking body,” he knelt down in front of where you sat and held a breast in each hand. He massaged the flesh. The rough tips of his fingers that accompanied the gentle, knowing touch elicited a moan out of you. 

He grinned, then rubbed his thumbs over your sensitive nipples. “You like the way I touch them, huh, baby?” 

He flicked his eyes up to yours and winked. He knew how much you loved the stimulation of your breasts. You threw your head back when he licked his way around your right nipple and then sucked it into his mouth. You couldn’t help it. You had to look down to see him work his mouth over you. 

Watching his mouth work tirelessly at your nipple made you buck your hips up with want for more. 

And somehow the desperate action made you remember the objective at hand. As much as you wished for him to continue, you pushed Jake back by his shoulders. You weren’t supposed to be the vulnerable one. 

His eyes were equal with desire and disappointment at the loss of contact with your body. 

“No, Jake,” you firmly stated. You stood up on shaky legs, moving around him. “The objective is not me. It’s about you, your Les Paul, and your dick in my mouth.”

He eyed you from his place, still on the floor. But you could see the slight twitch in his flannel pajama pants. “But I wanted you to feel pleasure, too, baby.”

You bent on a shaky knee to meet him, “Sweetie, making you happy will bring me pleasure.” 

His eyebrows dipped. “But you won’t—.”

You came up from your knee. You gazed down at him, then held a finger up. “Stop. I’m in charge.”

He looked your entire figure up and down and then raised his eyebrow at you, “Yes ma’am.”

He stood up, coming close to you, though you held a hand up for him to not come too close. It might have looked like you were doing it out of dominance, but you were really doing it to keep him far enough away that roles wouldn’t reverse. He held so much sex in his pinky alone, and you wanted the upper hand.

“If you pass the test, we have sex. And for me, having you inside of me is what gets me off best,” you lifted his self-cropped gray t-shirt over his head. His silver pendant necklace connected with his tanned skin. You were stern with him and placed your hands on his chest, “That’s why it’s imperative you don’t falter.”

You traveled down to the waist of his pants and hooked your fingers into the waistband, slowly dragged them down.

His thick length sprang up as soon as the pants moved past it. The sight of the glistening pre-cum at his smooth, pink tip made your mouth water. 

You were glad to see he wasn’t wearing underwear. Around the house, he rarely wore underwear if he was in comfy clothes. 

You stayed where you were, appreciating just how neatly groomed he always was. You hadn’t forgotten how attentive he was to it, but seeing it again? It made your stomach flame up.

His cock pulsed as you looked at it. You felt your own arousal father at the sight.

“Oh, Jakey,” you cupped his sac, holding it softly in one hand. You were not going to touch his cock yet. He’d have to wait. He whimpered at the feeling of your hand, playing with his balls. “You like that, baby?”

You looked up from where you had kneeled in front of him, his eyes were clamped shut. His head was thrown back, per usual at your attention to his lower region. He hummed an agreeing response. 

“No, no,” you took your hand away. “This is practice time, baby. Rehearsal,” you skated your hands over his bare thighs as you lifted up to stand with him. “If you can’t even keep it together when I’m holding your balls. . .I’m worried about how you’re going to do when my mouth is doing the work.” 

He blinked his eyes at you a few times. His eyebrows turned in, he pleaded. “Babe, I’ll do better,” he leaned in and gave you a small kiss. He brushed your hair behind your ear. “Please?”

Your stomach fluttered at his devotion to the task. “Go get your guitar,” you gave the order, trying to keep your voice steady. 

He walked over to the guitar that stayed on the stand in your room when he was home. It was the older of the two of his nearly-twin guitars. His original. He picked it up, then balanced it on the bed. 

“If I don’t fix this, she’s going to be on top of my dick,” he nodded at his guitar. Then he looked at you and lifted one thick brow. “And that’s where you need to be.”

He then made quick work of adjusting the strap to where the body of the instrument would sit against his stomach rather than where it usually rested. 

He looped the strap over his head when he finished. The sight was unusual. You’d never seen the Les Paul rest so high on his body. 

He looked down, wrapped his hand around the neck and looked at you. His mouth lifted with a laugh, “This feels weird as fuck.”

You giggled with him, “Yeah, it’s definitely more ‘Lennon-esque’,” you swayed your hips as you walked towards him. “But you still make it look so sexy.” 

You gave him one chaste kiss on the lips, taking only a minute to deepen it. When you pulled back, his lips were plump and looked so ready to be kissed again. But you denied the urge. You were ready to test the idea. 

“Go plug in to the amp and lie down,” You wanted to be firm with him. Be in control. “I still have to tell you the song.”

He turned and picked up the small amp that stayed in the room. Once he had it situated at his side of the bed, he plugged his guitar into it. The sound of the feedback as it got plugged in made you push your thighs together. You saw him move his arm and strum a few chords from the back, his naked ass flexing slightly while he geared up the guitar. 

It was a sight. It looked almost like normal. Almost how he always looked when he checked the sound of the instrument . . .though this time, clothes were exempt. You were glad this scene was for your eyes only. You didn’t ever want to share this version of him tuning it up with anyone else.

Once he felt it was good to go, he laid (mostly) down. He situated a couple of pillows behind his head to give him some sort of leverage. 

When he’d gotten situated, you admired the sight. His guitar was laying across his body, while his erection was still fully present. The way it stood at attention in the air, the worn red body of the guitar right next to it . . . It was something so pornographic. You wanted the image sealed in your mind forever.

“I’m going to be honest,” you spoke, tearing your eyes away from him, wanting to keep some sort of composure. You walked to the Amazon Alexa you kept in the bedroom. “I couldn’t choose one song. So, I just went with a random one I’ve been wanting to hear you play again. It’s been a while.” 

He blanched at that. “It’s been awhile?!” He sounded worried. “I kind of want to stand a chance at passing this little test of yours, sweetie.” 

You raised a brow at him.

“Jacob Thomas, you can hear a song once and instantly know how to play it,” you checked to make sure the speaker was plugged in. “It’s not going to be a big deal for you. You know it. Don’t stress.”

“I don’t want to mess up and make you stop,” his eyes glazed over. “I love the way your mouth feels too much to lose it. I wanna be good for you, baby.”

Your clit fluttered at that. He wanted to be good for you. 

“Then be a good boy and tune your guitar again. You don’t want to know the consequences if it’s even slightly out of tune,” you turned on the lamp at his bedside, the dark room needed some sort of light. Daytime was fading, rain still ticking against the window. “Don’t worry about the song until it starts playing.”

He went about his tuning and mid-strum, he suddenly questioned, “Why are you making Alexa play the song if I’m going to be the one actually playing it?” 

“The speaker will help to keep me aware of any possible mistakes,” you tapped it and then pointed at your mouth. “I’m going to be a little preoccupied to only rely on memory. My brain goes a little fuzzy when I. . .”

He swallowed thickly, blinked a couple times and nodded. “Makes sense.”

 You watched him go along with his tuning and decided to have another little practice. You sauntered over to him, and sat down on the edge of the bed, next to his leg.

He didn’t look up from what he was doing until he heard you spit in your hand. 

You placed your wet hand around his thick shaft, you gave it a couple of pumps. You looked him in the eyes, testing him. He knew if he stopped doing what he’d been doing that you would stop. He knew exactly what this was. And he wasn’t going to mess it up like he had before. 

You let your slick thumb rub in the crease at the base of his pretty pink head. You then took the precum from before (and the extra that had gathered since), and rubbed it from the slit of the head all the way around the head. 

You glanced up to see his face and the sight was beautiful. There was already a slight sheen of sweat forming at his hairline. He was working so hard for you. And then—.

There was one slight twang of a string. You took your hand away. 

He moaned. “You can’t. . .it was just a little—.”

“Gotta do better next time, baby,” you got up from your spot. “Is the guitar about ready?”

He gave the smallest glare. Then he reached up, using the back of his hand to wipe at his forehead. He placed his fingers on the correct frets and played the beginning of ‘Highway Tune’ to test out the sound.

His face was concentrated, looking down to see his fingers go. You watched, too. And besides his fingers going crazy, the music was obviously flawless. Holy shit. You weren’t sure you were going to survive this. You were sweating, flushed, and your thighs felt wet from being clenched around your core.

What were you going to do if you got distracted by him and stopped going when he was doing perfectly fine? You would lose all of your high-standing in the situation and you’d simply look like a loser.

The competitive streak suddenly came to life inside your chest. Your heart started beating so fast.

Or, you noticed how fast your heart had been beating all along. 

“Okay, stop,” you said firmly. “You miss one little strum, even the smallest string of a note, I stop. Got it?”

His brown eyes were unaware of your inner conflict and were doe-like as he nodded to agree. He wanted to be good.

“Alexa, play—.”

“Wait,” his voice was frantic. “Is it the entire guitar part or just a solo I’m playing?”

Before you spoke, Alexa’s monotone voice did. “I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

You rolled your eyes at the device. “Alexa, stop,” you surveyed him. You hadn’t thought so specifically. So, you thought on the spot. “Anytime you hear a guitar playing, you play.”

“Rhythm or lead?”

Damn, good questions. These were things you really hadn’t thought of initially. You‘d just thought of the grand scheme. And, while you both loved music, he was the guitar player. It technically was his job to help remind you of these things. You would be lying if you said it wasn’t slightly embarrassing in this situation.

But, you kept your cool. You tried not to think of the little holes you’d left in the plan. 

“Lead.”

He nodded, then cast his gaze down to look upon his guitar. His fingers tapped against the body, waiting patiently. And, like a pro, his tanned cock continued to stand at attention. 

“Be ready,” you warned. He visibly gulped. You made your way to the bed, combing a hand through the front of your hair, tucking a piece behind your ear. “Alexa,” you situated yourself between his legs, ass in the air. You knew your body drove him crazy, so you’d use it. “Play ‘Something’ by The Beatles.”

You let the sexy act go, and peeked up at him. He was already gazing so lovingly towards you. You two lazed grins towards each other. As though you were sharing a secret.

Back when you’d started dating, this song seemed to play everywhere you two would go. And so, it had gotten deemed special for the two of you, by the two of you.

It was really silly, but you two had been kids then. Thinking up something for everything.

“Playing ‘Something’ by The Beatles.”

While she repeated what you said, he placed his fingers in position. And without even knowing what it was supposed to look like, you knew he was right. You already felt a little wetness gather at your center, simply for how gifted and intellectual Jake was — especially with his craft. 

Right before it had begun, you sunk your mouth down over his tip. The taste of him was what your mind latched onto. He always tasted so sweet. You felt his body shiver. His legs shook on either side of you.

“Baby. . .” He sighed.

And when the guitar started, you closed your eyes to bask in the beautiful melodies Jake was already matching. He moaned and whined a few times here and there as you continued to flex your mouth over the top of him, but other than that, he was focused. He was magic.

You moved your mouth off of the top of him and then let your tongue lavish around the base of his cock. You licked it in long horizontal and vertical stripes, making a pattern of it. You occasionally went back to the top to give it proper attention. 

And once you’d made his skin glisten with the work of your mouth, you placed your hand on his base. Letting your hand do some work while you watched him play. 

The way his face would change as he played was so like the way it would on stage while playing, but this time, there were little whimpers that accompanied the faces he made. You knew the faces were not only meant for the guitar in this moment, he was reacting to you more than anything now. 

His fingers moved in precise motion, the veins in his hand showing as it flexed around the neck of the guitar. 

He still hadn’t missed a chord. Damn. As if you needed to be reminded of just how incredible Jake was. 

You licked around the slit at his tip and then licked in the crease just below the head, where your thumb had been earlier. You loved this spot on him, almost hidden between the head and length of him. 

You took the top half of him into your mouth, bobbing your head slowly up and down while also letting your tongue swirl in and around your favorite spot. 

You let extra saliva leak from your mouth, right before you hollowed your cheeks out. You then brought a hand to his shaft and stroked it liberally, grateful for the lubricant you’d provided. It was so slick to the touch, your hand glided perfectly. 

He breathed a combined whimper and moan when you added one more hand to the mix, grasping his balls. You rolled his sac in your hand. So fucking smooth.

You decided to massage his balls, giving them attention. With all of these actions combined, one chord stayed slightly longer than it should have. But you pretended not to notice. You were too engaged with your own activity at hand.

You started humming the melody as you swallowed as much of him as you could. He whined at the new vibrations that only added to the present pleasure.

Meanwhile, you generously stroked at him, but added just the slightest squeeze. His hips bucked as both of your hands continued their work, while your mouth sucked at him. You tightened your jaw and your lips went taut as you gave him one especially tight suck. 

Your mouth sounded like a little ‘pop!’ as you came off of his tip.

His breath seethed through his teeth. But he was a natural born rockstar, and played seamlessly through the hurdles thrown his way during a performance. The current hurdles being your mouth and hands.

The guitar solo was close. You couldn’t lose focus before then and you had to do your part to keep him steady. You had to stay consistent in your movements to keep his stamina going.

You grasped at his shaft, but realized it was becoming dry. So, right before it was time for the solo to start, you brought your head up. 

You gathered as much saliva as you could, and made sudden eye contact with him as you spit (drooled) it all onto his throbbing length.

Your center was aching.

His mouth fell open and you kept your eyes on his as the solo began and you moved your mouth around him. Your hand moved in the places your mouth couldn’t quite reach. Your movements went along to the rhythm of the music. You knew it like the back of your hand, making it one big—.

And his finger slipped off the string, right at the end of the solo. 

You sat up, deciding that was a big enough error to hold to your word. 

But, his eyes held such disappointment and guilt and longing . . . You felt for him. He never stopped playing, even as you stopped your efforts. He kept going. 

He’d also made it through almost the entire song, holding up his end of the plan so damn well. 

And his cock was just so pretty, standing up straight, waiting for more. 

You realized you just couldn’t hold to your word like you’d wanted to. 

Though, you did give his thigh a hard smack, and bit down on the flesh right on the inside of his thigh. So close to his most sensitive area.

“Shit,” he hissed through his teeth. “Won’t do it again,” he continued to play relentlessly. “Just so hot, babe.”

The flawless music he continued to make rushed through your ears. You knew the song was almost over, so you looped one of your legs around one of his. You moved it between your thighs to be in the right spot for satisfying friction and grinded down on it hard. 

“Oh,” his mouth was held in an ‘o’ shape at the feeling of you, wetting his leg with your arousal. It was the same big ‘o’ his mouth tended to make during a normal guitar solo. 

Fitting.

“You like that, baby?” 

His eyebrows drew together, nodding. 

You hadn’t taken the time until that moment to realize how sweaty he’d become. His forehead glistened, as did his nose and chest. The sweat dripped down from the middle of his pecs to the top of his tummy. 

Your mouth watered. 

His eyes stayed glued to the guitar, focus driven. His fingers moved expertly along the strings, finishing the song as if he had helped George Harrison write the song himself. 

You finally stopped your movements, wanting to admire the man beneath you. 

But he didn’t give you much time.

As carefully as he could manage, Jake slipped through the strap of the guitar, depositing it against the bedside table. And as soon as he was free of the constrictions from the instrument and your game, he took his control back. 

And you gladly let him. Almost.

He grabbed your ass, still sitting atop his thigh. But you moved his hands to resituate yourself. You climbed off of him, only to slip your legs to be knelt on either side of his abdomen. 

But Jake wrapped his arm around your waist and switched positions before you could even breathe. He wanted you below him. His chest was heaving as his swollen cock rested on your upper thigh.

Before anything else transpired, he got down on his forearms. He nudged your nose with his affectionately and captured your lips in a full kiss. There was barely any tongue, but his plush lips latched securely with yours. Puzzle pieces. 

“I love you,” he whispered when he pulled away. 

“I love you,” you sighed back to him. 

He ran his throbbing cock through your folds. Your body vibrated at the feeling. Then, he took it away. 

Sparing no time, he pushed in, sinking into you. Another puzzle piece.

Having just gotten him back from tour, you were still readjusting to the feeling of his girth. But when he started moving, home was found and you moved your hips in time with his. 

You knew neither of you were going to last long, but making love seemed priority to you both.

“Not a complicated song,” he huffed between thrusts. “But dammit if it was the most diffi—,” he slammed hard, making you both grunt at the motion. “. . .Most difficult with you doing all of that.”

You blushed, looking up to him. He was looking down to where your bodies were connecting. “Mission accomplished.”

He snapped his eyes back to you, “Mission enjoyed.” He winked at you, a suggestive smirk marking his lips. 

There wasn’t any more talking as he rounded his hips a few more times. He never let himself fully leave your center, obviously wanting to drive you to the edge.

It wouldn’t be hard. 

One, being Jake Kiszka’s girlfriend, was a constant loop of being on edge for the man. And two, with everything that you’d taken part in together that day, you’d been ready to release for a while. But this was the moment you’d wanted most. 

You’d wanted it with him. This connection. It was arguably what you missed most while he was away. These intimate moments, wrapped in time, for only you both. 

His hair was so long, it draped around your head like a curtain. You felt every single inch of him as he bucked into you, hearing the sounds your bodies made together. 

You moaned outright, “Jake,” your voice was husky. Your pussy clenched. You felt it coming.     

“Fuck, baby. I know,” his hips crashed to meet yours, the tip of him connecting to your g-spot.  

You whined loud, letting out gasps of encouragement and his name. 

Finally, your eyes met his, deep brown, and you held contact like that. You felt the entire world in his eyes. You lifted one hand to wrap at the base of his neck, under his hair, and left one to rest on his shoulder blade. His skin was completely tacky with sweat. Your bodies were vigorously moving to meet each other now. 

He stuck his thumb in his mouth, completely wetting it. And then, he slipped a hand between you, rubbing gentle circles on, around, and underneath your throbbing bud. 

After a few uneven thrusts, his body started to falter more in its ministrations. 

“I’m—,” he started. 

“Me too,” you gasped. 

His thrusts still guided you, and his thumb nudged just right against you. Everything you felt and saw was him. You shuddered as you hit your peak, your body stiffening. You threw your head back against the pillows. Your core was throbbing at the sensations. 

Then, he pushed in one more time, his sticky stomach meeting yours. He whimpered, and you could feel him spill inside of you. All of him. 

He stayed where he was for a second, his dick still pulsating inside of your walls. 

Then, he slipped out of you, going quickly to get a towel to clean the mess he’d helped to create. Once you were cleaned up, he laid his head to your chest, totally spent. 

His breath was warm against your breast. You combed your hand through his now-knotted hair. This was right.

You gazed down at him, his long hair swept across your stomach. Your heart pressed to your chest. You missed him.

When summer came and school let out, you would have to rethink not joining him on tour. You couldn’t take being away from him for so long. These moments were everything. 

“What do you think about joining the guys and me this summer, hm?” His fingers were tracing shapes into your hip. 

You grinned, braiding a few pieces of his hair when you responded, “You know, I just might have to.”

[warnersister]

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.

[starcaravel]

(A/N: hey so this is my first time posting on tumblr and i’m kinda nervous SO warnings: 18+, smut, dom! m x sub f reader, swearing, fingering, pet names ect and usage of condoms (wrap before you tap pls💋) oh and btw yn is in a band ;))

riffs n rivals

"no i won't hear it! 'what's the story morning glory' beats any song off of 'leisure' and you know it." zoey exclaimed, who was the lead singer of your band. marlene, who was your bands drummer was ready to fight back but you shut them both up by playing your guitar, which they took as a note to stop arguing.

"girls if you keep fighting like this during our rehearsal time, our fans are gonna hate us from how shit we sound on stage" you stated to the pair and your bassist clare , smirked to herself, making you smirk too.

thankfully it was quiet for a while, until two boys barged in, one was tall with curly hair and eye makeup on, the other was a little shorter, with straight hair and a gibson SG in his hands. they caught all of your attention, it was still quiet so zoey broke the silence by questioning who they were.

"Hi i'm danny, and this is jake.. your manager told us to say that you're almost on so get ready for your set" danny spoke calmly and gave you a small smile, to which you returned. for some reason, you couldn't keep your eyes off of jake, he was very quiet and the glasses he had on, caught your attention fast.

the other girls ran off to prepare for the set but you stayed seated, as you knew all the material you were to perform, danny walked in and sat down on the chair next to you. he glared at jake and signalled for him to sit as well, to which he obliged and sat opposite the pair of you.

"so! what kinda music do you guys play?" danny pipped up, you smiled at his attempt to break the ice, "well we're a rock n roll band but with a modern twist i suppose, the others can't really decide what they want so i just sit and come up with riffs for them, let them do all the work, i'm just here to have fun i guess" you replied, looking at danny now.

"oh that's cool! we're rock n roll too! just got a twist of the blues instead of modern" he replied and you nodded in response but it went silent again so you tried to make it less awkward by playing 'voodoo child' by jimi hendrix, which got jake's attention.

"you like hendrix?" he asked "nah not really, who's that?" you replied sarcastically and danny chuckled, you earned a smirk from jake which sent butterflies through your stomach.

"all jokes aside, he's a legend so of course i'm gonna like his stuff, always been a fan, since i was a kid" you replied, trying to get a conversation with jake running and he had the same idea, "yeah! he's so cool, just like clapton man, they're all amazing" he replied.

"i mean, yeah clapton is good but harrison is way better, i mean have you heard 'while my guitar gently weeps?', george had the best solo career out of all the beatle boys" you stated and something changed in jake's mood, danny became alerted "oh no.. you insulted eric clapton in front of jake,that's not good.. errr?" danny started to say but paused to ask for a name.

"oh im y/n by the way!" you said, "pretty name! but yeah jake hates it when you shit talk clapton like that" danny finished what he was saying, you scoffed at the end of his statement but ignored it once you got called on stage, you said your goodbyes to the two boys and made your way back to the others.

during your set, you could feel a pair of eyes on you from the side of the stage, you quickly glanced to see jake looking right at you, with danny on his right and two other boys on his left, who you assumed to be his band mates.

for the whole time you were on stage, jake did not take his eyes off of you, once you were off and made it to your dressing room, you noticed he had quietly followed behind.

"what? here to talk technique with me?? i saw you staring during the whole set, you are aware we're a band of four not one-" you were saying without looking at jake but you got cut off when you were pushed against the wall, he was inches away from your face, he had his hands on the wall, between you so it would be impossible to move away.

"i think you're a very smart girl but that mouth doesn't make you seem so sometimes , huh darling?" he spoke, his voice was low and raspier than it was earlier, you looked down, unsure of what to say. noticing this, jake gently grabs your chin with his fingers and lifts your head to make eye contact.

"what's the matter now? cat got your tongue?" he remarked, even though it should've made you bite back, you felt heat rising in your core. "don't think i don't know how you looked at me earlier, when i walked through the door. poor daniel tried to cut the tension between us but failed" he continued.

"maybe if you took those damn glasses off, he wouldn't have needed to try" you mumbled but he heard every word, his hand left your chin and he took the glasses off, "there, is that better for you princess?" he smirked, you noticed that his face was closer, his lips almost grazed against yours which made your breath hitch.

both of you stayed like that, to what seemed like forever to you, until Jake closed the gap by smashing his lips into yours, you moaned into the kiss which made jake smirk with pride, god you hated how smug he was but your body reacted differently,

jake lowered a hand to your jeans and slipped it inside, grazing his finger tips along your heat, against your panties "mmm so wet for me already baby?" he mumbled into your ear, his hot breath against the shell of it as you groaned in response, no man has ever made you feel the way jake made you feel.

"aww don't go shy on me now sweet girl, use your words" he taunted as you rolled your hips forward into his hand, you huffed "jake.. please, i need you inside of me" you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

"oh so she begs now?" he smirked which earned him an eye roll from you, jake left wet kisses down your neck slowly, "jake i swear to go-" you began to snap but gasped as he shoved two fingers into you, curling them up inside of your core, his pace was quick and rough.

you started to feel a burning sensation in the pit of your stomach as jake continued his assault on your neck, moving down to your collar bone and keeping his fingers at a steady pace, in seconds, with just a few more curls of the guitarist fingers, you came undone and released onto his two fingers,

he brought them up out of your jeans and into his mouth, savouring every last drop of you that he could taste, the sight made your knees weak and core ache for him even more, "on the couch, clothes off now" jake demanded and you followed suit.

he stripped his jeans off of him as you pulled your own pair off, you teasingly let your shirt fall over your head slowly, leaving your bra on for jake to notice. he stared at your breasts with his mouth agape, moving towards you, to take the bra off.

with a quick motion, he had it off in seconds, practice makes perfect you thought, jake removed his own shirt, pushed you down so you were on your back on the couch. he hovered over you, his necklaces dangling in your face.

he palmed himself through his boxers, the outline of his cock making it's self apparent to you, as you tried to reach for it, jake grabbed your wrists with one hand and brought them over your head "ah ah princess, who said you could touch? be a good girl and spread your legs for me baby" he rasped

you slowly opened your legs, your dripping core becoming visible to jake, his eyes darkened at the sight, a look filled with lust that only made you yearn for him more, he pulled down his boxers, freeing his member, pumping it a few times before pulling out a condom from his jean pocket and rolling it onto himself.

jake slowly slid himself into you, as you both groaned from the feeling "fuck you feel so good gorgeous" he moaned and let you adjust to his size before pushing all the way in, he stretched you out in a way you haven't been before, tears brimmed in your eyes from the way it burned but it was a good type of pain, jake stopped but you soon tapped his arm to let him know that you were ready for him to move.

jake pulled back almost all the way before slamming straight back into you, starting off at a steady pace, you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him closer to your face, closing the gap between the two of you, both of you moaned into each others mouths from the feeling of jake inside, it felt as if you were made for each other.

jake rested one hand on your hip with the other on your opposite leg, bringing your thigh up to your chest so he could fuck you in a deeper angle, his thrusts quickened, the lewd sounds of skin slapping together and heavy breathing coming from the both of you, filled the room, your arms found their way down his back, leaving scratches all over it, jake gave his last sharp thrusts into you before they started to slow, you knew he was close and vice versa.

jake moved his head down to place kisses all over your chest, moving from one breast to the other, gently tugging on the skin with his teeth, smoothing it over with his tongue, you moaned loudly, unable to cover it up.

he kissed up your neck, leaving hickies all over for you to be embarrassed about tomorrow morning, as you climaxed, jake was close behind you and you could feel his warm load shooting inside you, into the condom, after riding out his orgasam, jake collapsed on top of you, the pair of you stayed like that for what felt like forever until jake leaned up on his forearms and pulled out of you, getting rid of the condom and laying down next to you.

with the both of you huffing and puffing, jake tried to make conversation "so.. you still prefer harrison over clapton?" he asked whilst looking you in the eyes, his brown ones softening, you brought a hand to the side of his face and smirked "oh definitely, a hundred percent" you replied smugly.

this time jake laughed himself, putting his hand over yours, "yeah.. but i'm not bad as you think i am, right?" he asked, his voice hoarse from the events that just took place, "yeah.. you're not bad cowboy, not bad" you remarked whilst playfully patting his chest which earned you a hearty laugh from jake.

you two got dressed quickly, jake leaving first and you a little bit behind him, danny and zoey were stood on the opposite wall, staring at the pair of you with smug looks on their faces. "so i take it you two made up then?" danny smirked as zoey snorted, "yeah dan, look at y/n' s hair, it's a fucking mess!" she shouted as your cheeks turned pink from embarrassment.

"oh jake you really can't keep a grudge can you?" danny taunted his friend, "fuck off dude" jake remarked but smiled to himself, you rolled your eyes as zoey ran off to tell the other girls, just then the two boys from before joined, "ah! y/n id like you to meet sammy and josh, sammy is jake's younger brother and josh is jake's older twin brother" danny exclaimed, introducing the two innocent boys, your eyes widened, oh shit-there's two of them?? ....

[jaidens]

Time Slows Down Whenever You're Around I Can Feel My Heart It's Beating Out Of My Chest Did You Feel It?

pairing [s] : ponyboy curtis x reader

warning [s] : kissing | cuddling | sharing hot chocolate with pony is actually my dream

a/n [s] : requests are open!!

The air is cold and chilly as it shivers through cracks and holes of the Curtis household. You're in a thick sweater and jeans, but the air still slips through and shakes through your bones. Everyone is at work or out on their own time, so you and Ponyboy are left alone. The yellow and red leaves on the trees whistle as the cold wind runs through them. “Hey, what are you making?” The soft southern accent fills your ears and his face comes into your vision. The thick mop of dark brown hair is clean, not even a speck of grease inside of it.

“I’m making hot chocolate and extra marshmallows. Just how you like it.” You say to him while you mix the mix with the warm milk you made in the pot. “Smells good! I just got finished with my English homework.” You smile at Pony and pull the pot off the heat, then you pour it into two mugs. Ponyboy takes one and sets it down onto the small wooden table in the middle of the room, and you hand him the mini marshmallows and whipped cream you had made from scratch.

He takes a thick scoop of whipped cream and drops marshmallows onto the top. Then, be takes a big sip and he pulls away with a whipped cream mustache. “Look at you Pony!” Then, you tug his arm for him to follow you into his bedroom. Pony is laughing as he follows you. You turn the radio on and turn it low enough, just enough to heat it. The Beatles play and you sing along, gently wiggling your hips.

You sit down next to him on his bed as he sips from the mug. You lay your head on his shoulder and continue sipping as the warmth fills you. With Pony’s natural radiation of body heat and the warm drink, you're almost forgetting the coldness that slips through the thin blankets. “‘M cold.” You say gently and scoop further into him, head drilling against his chest. His arm pulls you further in and you stare into his soft eyes.

The darkness in his brown eyes is a soft honey brown. He looks so much more gorgeous in this as you both stare. “Oh I love this song.” As you softly sing along, just under your breath, Pony stares at you. All he sees is love and comfort something he desperately wants to feel. He wasn't sure about his brothers or his friends, but he was sure about you. You showed him affection and love, without wanting back whenever he didn't want to. He was bad at showing love, ever since his parents had passed away, he wasn't sure if he wanted to get so connected to people.

“I love you,” Pony begins and his hand runs against your shoulder as he pretends his fingers are running. “So much.” He admits to you and you follow his eyes. It's quiet and much different than he usually is. He puts up a front around his friends to hide his feelings, but around you it's so difficult to. You're so comfortable and kind to him, and you're his rock. “I love you too, honey.” You agree with him before you connect your lips against his. He tastes like hot chocolate and marshmallows and love. Adoration. Enthralling love.

You're too love-sick dumb teenagers with a death wish as you hold onto him and practically float in his arms. He's yours, and you're his.

[thebeatles-world]

Can you do a fic where ringo takes care of the reader who got too drunk at a party?🥺

Yesss! I love this idea 🤗❤️

Caring

Ringo x Y/N imagine

Ringo decided to invite you to a private party that was thrown for the Beatles celebration. You were going through a breakup with your ex boyfriend and it would be nice just to get away from your place and have some fun.

You and Ringo were friends for a while now. People thought that you two were a couple but you and Ringo just laughed at that thought and told people that you and him were just friends and nothing else.

He was with Maureen. You were with the man that you thought that was the love of your life but sadly it didn’t work out between you and him. So you guys ended the relationship and never spoke to each other ever again.

It’s been a few weeks since the breakup. You sighed to yourself and got ready. You did your hair and picked out a dress that was inspired by Marilyn Monroe where she wore that white dress in the film Seven Year Itch.

Marilyn Monroe was the person you looked up especially when it came to fashion. Sadly she died around August of 1962 which broke your heart when you heard the news of her passing.

As you were playing “I Wanna Be Loved By You.” By Marilyn Monroe in the background you couldn’t help but think of Ringo as the song played.

“I wanna be loved by you, just you

Nobody else but you

I wanna be loved by you, alone.”

You sang along to the lyrics. You picture Ringo giving you one of his handsome smiles as he looked at you.

You couldn’t help but think of his beautiful blue eyes and oh, his gorgeous smile that could light up the whole room.

“Wait, am I having feelings for Ringo?” You said to you, slowly covering your mouth.

“Oh gross. No. He’s just a friend that’s all.” You brushed it off, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach when Ringo appeared in your mind.

Earlier today, you told Ringo that you would meet him there at the party so you had someone drive you to the party.

When you got to the party, you enter the big wide doors to the mansion where the party took place at.

Your heels clicked on the floor as you walked in. There was lots of people around you drinking and chatting with each other.

“Wow this is what Hollywood parties looks like.” You said to yourself.

You noticed someone passing out alcohol beverages to people and you went over there to get yourself a glass of alcohol.

As you were sipping your glass of alcohol, you heard someone call your name.

“Yes?” You turned around, confused.

“Hey Y/N, It’s me Ringo.” You saw Ringo standing there with a smile on his face.

He looked so handsome as always. Fine as always. You thought to yourself.

You blushed as you looked at him.

“I-I.. Oh hey Ringo! Good to see you.” You said with a smile as you walked over to him.

“Wow Y/N … you look absolutely stunning.” Ringo said as you saw him checking you out.

“Don’t be silly Ringo.” You giggled as you grabbed your best friend cheek and squeezed it.

“I’m being serious.” Ringo said, poking you on the waist.

“Shall we?” Ringo asked, offering you to put your arm around his elbow.

“Why yes.” You said, putting your arm around Ringo’s elbow.

Together you guys walked to the table where the Beatles sat.

You never met the Beatles before but you knew who they were and you loved their music.

“Whoa Ringo who is this hot bird you got here?” Paul asked when you and Ringo both arrived at the table.

“This is Y/N. She’s one of my good friends. I decided to invite her here.” Ringo said.

“Hi nice to meet you.” You said as you shook everyone’s hand at the table.

John, George and Paul were taken back.

“Are you sure she’s your friend? Are you sure she isn’t your girlfriend mate?” John asked Ringo with a wink.

“No she’s just a friend.” Ringo rolled his eyes and playfully slapped John on the head.

You giggled.

“Oh I wish he didn’t think of me as a friend.” You thought to yourself once again.

George didn’t say anything to you. He just kept on staring at you.

Which you heard that George was the quiet one in the group. It was understandable.

But on the other hand, John and Paul were drooling over you.

“If you don’t mind, I’ll be taking Y/N over to have a couple of drinks with me.” Ringo said as he stood up and offer his hand to you.

“Hey, I mean… you have a girlfriend Ringo. It’s not fair that you get to take Y/N away from us. Remember I’m still single.” Paul reminded Ringo.

“Me and-“ Ringo sighed for a minute and then cleared his throat.

“So anyways, it was nice seeing you fellas.” Ringo said quickly changing the subject and grabbing your hand.

“Nice meeting you all.” You said with a smile before Ringo dragged you away.

“I’m so sorry my bandmates can get carried away.” Ringo apologize.

“Oh, I don’t mind. They were pretty fun to be around.” You giggled.

Pretty soon you and Ringo were drinking and chatting with each other.

You couldn’t control your drinking. You kept on drinking and drinking alcohol as hours went by.

You were pretty drunk as time went on.

“Look Ringo, I’m having sooo much fun.” You giggled as you spin in circles on the floor.

“Okay darling, I think you had a bit too much-“ Ringo was saying before you cut him off.

“No, drinking is fun. Come drink some more with me.” You gently pulled on his tie.

“I think that’s enough Y/N” Ringo told you gently but you didn’t listen to him. You took one shot of alcohol and begin to dance drunken.

“I love feeling like this.” You laughed.

You were definitely wasted. Ringo had to chase you during the whole mansion just to make sure you didn’t drink anymore alcohol or acted too crazy.

He wanted to make sure you were okay too.

“RINGO I LOVE YOU!!” You shouted at the top of your lungs. It made a few people turn their heads to look at you.

“Shh Y/N. I love you too but you got to calm yourself down darling. You’re wasted.” Ringo shushed you.

“You only love me as a friend.” You slurred your words.

“You don’t love me as a girlfriend. You love me as a friend. I’m just your best friend Ringo. Nothing else.” Your words were started to slur even more.

“Let’s talk about this for another time okay love? Right now let’s focus on you.” Ringo said.

He had permission from the owner of the party to use the guest room. He picked you up and carried you to the guest room.

“Ringo baby, where am I?” You groan as you rubbed your head. You felt a headache coming your way.

“You are still at the party love.” Ringo said to you gently. He filled up a glass of water for you and handed you a couple of pills.

“Here take this. This should relieve your headache and the hangover you’ll be having in the morning.” He said.

You nodded and drank some water with the pills.

Ringo went into the guest bathroom and then came back with a wet washcloth.

“Here, keep this on your forehead.” Ringo placed the warm washcloth on your forehead.

You nodded once again, listening to Ringo’s advice.

“I um… also got you a bucket for just in case….” Ringo said, placing the bucket near you.

“Just in case for what?” You questioned him.

Suddenly you felt your stomach rumble and then before you know it, you started to hurl into the bucket.

“Just in case you throw up darling.” Ringo held your hair back as you threw up into the bucket.

“Why are you being nice to me?” You groan, after you were finally done with throwing up.

“It’s not that I’m being nice. I just care about you Y/N.” Ringo said.

He laid down next to you.

“Please don’t leave me Ringo.” You said in a whisper, pressing your head against his chest.

“I won’t never leave you Y/N. I adore you too much to even do that to you.” Ringo kissed your head.

“Oh gosh… I hope Maureen doesn’t mind this. Tell her I’m so sorry for laying on your chest and for me being drunk and flirty towards you. Honestly.” You said as you thought about his girlfriend Maureen.

You didn’t even think about Maureen while you were drunk or when Ringo was taking care of you.

“It’s okay. Actually we broke up this morning.” Ringo said almost in a whisper. You could have swore that his voice cracked when he announced the breakup between him and Maureen.

You stood up too quickly and you could swore that you were going to throw up again but you did your best not too.

“Oh no Ringo I’m so sorry! I could tell how much you loved her.” You said sadly as you looked at Ringo. He looked sad himself. You could tell how happy Ringo got when he talked about Maureen with you in the past and how much it annoyed you that your best friend couldn’t stop talking about her but at the end it made you happy that Ringo was happy. It was worth every word that Ringo said about Maureen when he got so happy to talk about her.

“It’s okay Y/N. We didn’t work out. I just didn’t wanna say anything. I also knew we were drifting apart a month later so we just stopped communicating and stopped putting effort into the relationship. We discussed in person this morning that it would be best if we went our separate ways.” Ringo explained to you.

“Oh I’m so so sorry my love.” You hugged Ringo. You and Ringo hugged each other in silence.

“For a month that we didn’t communicate with each other. There’s a girl that cheered me up without knowing what was going on in my relationship but she doesn’t know that she cheered me up. She made me happy and she made me feel some type of special way that Maureen never made me feel.” Ringo explained.

“Oh. Who?” You said in confusion. You were still a bit drunk but not as drunk as before.

“It was you Y/N. You cheered me up. You made me feel so happy and you laughed at my jokes that Maureen could never laugh at. I had such feelings for you that I just didn’t wanna say anything for the sake of our friendship.” Ringo said to you.

“Awww Ringo. You are so cute.” You kissed him on the cheek.

“I’m definitely going to forget about what you said in the morning aren’t I?” You said with a giggle, still feeling a little drunk.

“Yes you are darling.” Ringo laughed.

“But i hope you don’t forget about this.” Ringo grabbed your chin gently and leaned in to kiss you on your lips.

Your cheeks turned bright red as you kissed him back.

****Let me know if you guys want a part 2 of this and what ideas you want me to put in ****

[shina913]

On Tilt, Part 2.1 | KNJ

On Tilt, Part 2.1

Definition: a poker term for a state of mental or emotional confusion or frustration in which a player adopts a suboptimal strategy, usually resulting in the player becoming overly aggressive.

On Tilt Masterlist

Pairing: Namjoon x Fem!Reader

Rating: M 🔞; NSFW

Genre: idol!AU; strangers-to-FWB-to-lovers; toxic relationship; angst; fluff; smut

Warnings: unhealthy/toxic relationship dynamic; cussing; explicit sexual conversations; pining; unrequited love; miscommunication; mentions of alcohol consumption; trouble setting personal boundaries; making out; allusions to oral sex (mutual); allusions to penetrative, protected sex; ...and I think that's it?

Word count: 2.7K words

Summary: You’ve said time and time again that you wouldn’t lose yourself to him. You were in control now. You were going to make better choices. For a minute there, you were able to keep up with it. It wasn’t ‘til Namjoon’s extended break that you found yourself falling into old habits. Will you ever learn to quit Kim Namjoon?

A/N: This is a flashback chapter with a little meet-cute in the beginning 😋 I was originally going to include it in the main update but it got really long-winded so...here we are. Anyway, I do not specify a name for "The Band" here 😅 Just go with it 😁

Years ago…

“Is that book any good?”

You look up from the pages of a novel you’ve been glued to for the last two hours, finding a skinny, bleach-blond-and-pink-haired man sitting across from you in the reading nook.

“Uhm–yeah. I like it so far,” you answer him.

“Pretty interesting title. What’s it about?” He proceeds to ask.

Random bookstore conversations weren’t new to you. Sometimes, you’d find yourself bonding over a particularly interesting story with a complete stranger for hours, then walk out without even bothering to exchange names. All you’re left with is a memory of a great conversation.

“It’s about love, loss, and self-discovery.”

His mouth falls open. “Wow…I did not expect that from the title.”

You chuckle softly. “The title is taken from a Beatles song of the same name. ‘Norwegian Wood’ happens to be a significant song in the main character’s life experiences,” you explained.

“I see. Do you think I would like it?”

“Uhm…” you hesitate. Why is this random guy asking you if this book would align with his taste?

“I-I guess,” you say, shifting in your seat. “It’s…it’s pretty tragic, though. If that’s the type of genre that you’re into?”

He smiled. “Do you like it?”

“I do,” you answer him frankly.

He gave a swift nod, got up from his seat without a word. He walks to the back of the store and disappears. You blink a few times then shrug your head, turning back to your book.

After a few minutes, he returns to the same spot where he sat. This time, he had a book with him—Norwegian Wood by Haruki Murakami. He looks up at you briefly, a dimple flashing on his left cheek before diving into the first chapter.

A couple hours later and the shopkeeper announces that it’s nearly closing time. You start to gather your things, stuff them in your backpack before heading back to your apartment by the university. Your reading buddy gathers his backpack, too and slips his receipt into the most recent page that he was in.

“Hey, thanks for the recommendation. It’s good so far.”

“Oh, that’s great! My friend recommended it to me,” you answered.

“Would you care to talk more about it? Over dinner, maybe?”

Your cheeks flush. He was cute but he hasn’t even bothered to introduce himself to you.

“Dude, I don’t even know you,” you sassed.

He laughed, realizing his misstep. “Shit, I’m sorry. I’m Namjoon, by the way,” he held his hand out.

You purse your lips then stare at his outstretched hand. Seconds later, you clasp it against his. “I’m YN.”

He briefly mentions that he passed a restaurant closeby that served kimbap. But he left it up to you to decide if you preferred something else.

“Kimbap sounds fine. I’m not picky,” you mention.

“Great,” he responds with a grin.

Right before you walk out of the bookstore, another female patron stops, hand flying up to her mouth and gasps loudly. “Oh my god!

Are you Kim Namjoon?” She exclaims.

He looked slightly panicked but smiled kindly. “No, but I get that a lot.”

“I think you are,” she continues to argue. Then she pauses and gasps again as if she remembers something. “Is the rest of the band here? Are they here? Oh my god!” She nearly squeals in a panicked state.

You stand there utterly confused. What band was she talking about? How did she know his name? And why would he be denying it?

He chuckled, waving his hand, “Oh, no-no. I just look like him. Sometimes, I get hired as a stand-in for some schedules,” he explains, while peering at you nervously.

“Anyway, my friend and I have important business. Have a good evening,” he says with a rush and ushers you both out of the bookstore.

Once you get far enough down the block you stop abruptly and turn to him.

“Okay, hold up—what the hell was that about? Is your name really Namjoon? And why did you lie to her? Who are you?”

He grimaced, a pang of guilt hitting written all over his face. “YN…there’s a perfectly good explanation for all this.”

******

Although the idea of being friends with an idol was uncomfortable to you, Namjoon was very sincere and down-to-earth. You followed some pop music trends but you preferred indie bands and, what most Gen Z-ers would call, “your grandparents’ music.”

But his band’s music was interesting. It wasn’t your typical bubblegum pop. Their discography was intriguing and captivating on a different level, mostly due to his way of working in metaphorical and often philosophical elements to their lyrics and content. You made playlists and dove into other publicly available material online in an effort to learn more about your new friend.

Their record label kept them busy and every day was a hustle. While he relished and was grateful for adoring fans around the world who screamed his name, all he craved was some normalcy during his downtime…and you were an essential part of that.

Whether it was out to dinner or drinks with a large group of friends, who have all signed the necessary NDAs; or a leisurely stroll in the park–he always managed to steal a moment with you. And in those moments, you shared the deepest conversations.

Your little ‘book club’ for two started off innocently enough. At some point, it turned into late night phone calls while he was on tour or in-between schedules.

It didn’t feel romantic…not at the outset. He just needed someone to bounce ideas with, which you were happy to do. He was just a really deep thinker and had a lot to say. When he did, his thoughts and words would fly over his other friends’ heads and they’d be dying for a subject change. You enjoyed talking and spending time together because not only did you challenge each other intellectually but there was always that underlying chemistry that drew you closer.

One summer, about a year and a half after you met, you and some friends rented out a house by the coast. At some point, someone busted out bottles of makgeolli and soju. Historically, you hadn’t been able to handle them at university parties so you’ve tried to stay away from the stuff. But peer pressure and all, you joined the gang and took a few sips…and so did Namjoon. Minutes later, you remember why you’ve abstained from it.

You sat out on the deck, hoping the sea breeze would help sober you up.

Then he joined you.

As usual, it started off with the usual tipsy ribbing…how you were both lightweights, which set off stretches of nonsensical giggling along with playful smacking and shoving of each other.

The giggling pulled you two closer…too close. Too close to be considered platonic.

He poked his tongue against the inside of his cheek, then his eyes slowly drifted down to your mouth. “You know, for so long, I’ve wondered what it was like to kiss you,” he confessed.

You blinked your eyes lazily at him. “You have?”

He gave a small nod. “I wanted to…a few times.”

You smirked at him. “Then why haven’t you?”

Seemingly taken aback, he exhaled softly. “I didn’t know if you wanted the same thing.”

You brought your face close to his. “Well, you’ve never asked me.” And boy, did you want him to.

He leaned in closer, your noses now touching. “So…may I?”

You bit down on your lip to keep yourself from grinning. “You may.”

A smile ghosted his lips before they brushed yours.

His kiss was tentative at first but when you tilted your head to the side, it gave him that nudge of confidence to raise his hand to cup your cheek, pulling you closer. His lips were as plush as you imagined them to be. They coaxed you gently.

You licked his tongue and he let out a soft, husky moan. The sound made your belly flutter, the same way it does when you listened to his demos before he sent them to his producer.

You made out on and off that evening, thankful that the rest of your friends were too wasted to interrupt.

******

It had been days since you first kissed at the beach house, and you kept at it a few more times after you got back to the city.

God, you loved kissing him.

He had a couple more weeks off before the comeback schedule started so he invited you to spend some time at his dorm. After clocking out of your part-time job at the university, he’d pay for a driver to drop you off at his building.

He had his own space and his bandmates didn’t mind. A couple of them had their own ‘guests’ who had special, confidential privileges just like you did. You just acknowledged each other quietly in the hallways before you retreated to Namjoon’s room.

Luckily, each room doubled as studios…which meant soundproof walls.

You thought it would be awkward. You’d been friends for a while so how did things escalate from talking about books to having his head between your legs. He would pause to ask if you preferred him to do something differently or if you wanted him to focus on a different spot. He was intent on pleasing you so you’d direct him where to put his hands…or his tongue.

You repaid him on your knees, to which he was equally grateful.

He didn’t have condoms that night so he had to walk across the hall to sheepishly ask his bandmate for one.

After that, he kept his own stash for when you spent the night.

Two days before he was set to get into the comeback cycle, he stayed over at your apartment.

“I’m going to miss you,” you murmured. You both laid on your sides, mirror images of the other. His fingers lazily brushed your bare arm sending goosebumps through your skin.

“Me, too,” he answers.

“Are we still friends?” You ask him.

He made a face, as if you just asked the most ridiculous question.

“Why wouldn’t we be?”

“I mean, two weeks ago, all we did was talk about whatever book I could recommend to you or what Pokémon card you were collecting. Now, you’re laying on my bed while your clothes are sitting on a pile on my floor.”

He grinned, making you chuckle softly. You grip his cheeks with one hand and quickly release them. “Jooooon, I’m serious though. Is this…what is this?”

Turning serious, he pursed his lips, thinking about his answer. Seconds later, he swallowed hard. “I don’t know yet.”

“Mr. Philosophical doesn’t have any insights?”

He chewed at the inside of his cheek. “All I know is, I’m happy with you and I don’t want to ruin that by defining it or putting any labels on it. I’m afraid that if we do that, and…given the nature of my job…we set expectations for ourselves. Expectations that might end up disappointing us.”

It sounded like a long-winded answer that basically said, ‘I like being around you but I’m just not ready to commit because my job is demanding.’ He had a point, though. He was going to be gone in a few days' time…then where would that leave you?

“I get it,” was all you managed to say. Truthfully, you enjoyed spending time with him. The sex was just a nice bonus.

“I do want you to know that I care about you…and I don’t want to disappoint you.”

Your heart lurched at the sound of that. You twisted your lips, knowing that things wouldn’t be able to get any further than where they currently stood: his career would come first.

He caressed your cheek. “I know I could give you more—“

You shook your head gently. “Don’t say things like that if you’re not sure…because it’s going to make me yearn,” you chuckle awkwardly. “Let’s just take this for whatever it is right now. If…if it turns into something unsustainable or unhealthy, then we’ll stop.”

Truthfully, you didn’t want to scare him away or stress him out further. His job in and of itself put on enough pressure on him and he saw you as a reprieve. You took comfort in knowing that.

He moved closer to you. “I hope neither of us has to make that call,” he whispered.

Your thumb brushes over his lips. “I hope so, too.”

He caught you by the wrist to kiss your finger, then wrapped his lips around it and sucked. Damn it, he really knew how to turn you on. Putting your hand on his nape, you close the gap between you and seal your mouth over his.

You agreed not to define your relationship. You knew the risks and the stakes. In the end, you decided that you also cared about him deeply. So deep that you couldn’t help but hold out hope that things would work out…and if they didn’t, you’d know when to stop.

Those were the perks of being young and optimistic.

You’d see each other for a month or two at a time when he was back in town or he’d pay to fly you out wherever he was during long travel stretches.

It wasn’t always about sex when you and Namjoon were together. When you spent time with him abroad, you’d take in the sights with him–after dark, of course; sometimes one or two of his bandmates would tag along.

Honestly, it was like going on a nice vacation with your friend…a friend whom you got naked with as soon as you got back to the hotel.

When he was home, he’d sneak a few hours with you. Sometimes, he just wanted to talk about the most recent book he was reading on tour. Other times, he just wanted to share a bed with you and stay until the next morning.

For a while, that setup worked for both of you. You were young and wanted to experience many things before you locked yourself down into a committed relationship with someone.

But being with Namjoon was proving to be difficult. You’d quietly expect things from him and be disappointed when he didn’t come through because of work or some other scheduling conflict. And yet, you didn’t fault him for it or openly tell him that you began to crave for more.

Your breaking point was when that vacation that you’d both planned to go on after they returned from their world tour two years ago fell through. Instead, he went straight into working on his mixtape to maximize studio time and the producers were only available during that timeframe.

Before having all of these expectations, you were perfectly okay with Namjoon being this unpredictable presence in your life. But that was then.

This time, you were more experienced and a bit more realistic. It was then that you decided you didn’t want to put your life on hold for him. So, you told him that you wouldn’t be at his beck and call anymore. You could keep things platonic but, any more than that, it wasn’t going to happen.

He didn’t argue. Frankly, that shit hurt a lot…that he didn’t even put up a fight. You cried over it for weeks. But you knew that not pushing him to define your relationship was a mistake…and you let that happen. You vowed not to make that mistake again.

You’d gone on a few dates after that and you were pretty sure that Namjoon had messed around with other women, too. You read as much on the gossip columns and social media postings. Eventually, you found someone, too. That relationship lasted almost two years…until it ran its course.

It wasn’t until a few months ago that you and Namjoon had reconnected, after news of their hiatus was announced.

He found out that you were single again and hinted that you could pick up where you left off. But things were different now and you maintained the boundaries that you had set a while back for yourself. You thought it would protect your heart and keep him at bay…instead, he seemed to be drawn to you more than ever.

He was like a drug–specifically made for you…and it was hard to stop. You could deal with the bad because deep down, it felt good. He felt good.

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[shuxiii]

Everyday pt. 10

Hanni Pham x reader pt1, pt2, pt3, pt4, pt5, pt6, pt7, pt8, pt9, pt10, pt11, pt12, pt13

A/n meow meow credits to "every day" by david levithan, I am in the stages of insanity at this moment its 7 am and I haven't slept at all, not a single blink of sleep lord save me. P.s: this made me kinda sad this chapter <\3 if u want i recommend listening to "something between us" george romance 101

Day 6008

I go to the computer as soon as I wake up the next morning. But there’s no email from Hanni. I send her another apology. I send her more thanks for the day. Sometimes when you hit send, you can imagine the message going straight into the person’s heart. But other times, like this time, it feels like the words are merely falling into a well.

I head to the social-networking sites, searching for something more. I see that Austin and Hugo still list their relationship status as being together—a good sign. Jiwon’s page is locked to non-friends. So there’s proof of one thing I managed to save, and another where saving is possible.

I have to remind myself it’s not all bad.

Then there’s Haruto. The coverage of him continues. Reverend Poole is getting more testimony by the day, and the news sites are eating it up. Even the Onion is getting into the act, with the headline: WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS TO REVEREND POOLE: ‘THE DEVIL MADE ME EAT THE PLUM.’ If smart people are parodying it, that’s a sure sign that some less smart people are believing it.

But what can I do? Haruto wants his proof, but I’m not sure I have any to give. All I have is my word, and what kind of proof is that?

Today I’m a boy named Jeongwoo. He has diabetes, so I have a whole other layer of concerns on top of my usual ones. I’ve been diabetic a couple of times, and the first time was harrowing. Not because diabetes isn’t controllable, but because I had to rely on the body’s memories to tell me what to look out for, and how to manage it. I ended up pretending I wasn’t feeling well, just so my mother would stay at home and monitor my health with me. Now I feel I can handle it, but I am very attentive to what the body is telling me, much more so than I usually am.

Jeongwoo is full of idiosyncrasies that probably don’t seem all that idiosyncratic to him anymore. He’s a sports fanatic—he plays soccer on the JV squad, but his real love is baseball. His head is full of statistics, facts and figures extrapolated into thousands of different combinations and comparisons. In the meantime, his room is a shrine to the Beatles, and it appears that George is by far his favorite. It isn’t hard to figure out what he’s going to wear, because his entire wardrobe is blue jeans and different variations of the same button-down shirt. There are also more baseball caps than I can imagine anyone needing, but I figure he’s not allowed to wear those to school.

It’s a relief, in many ways, to be a guy who doesn’t mind riding the bus, who has friends waiting for him when he gets on, who doesn’t have to deal with anything more troubling than the fact that he ate breakfast and is still hungry.

It’s an ordinary day, and I try to lose myself in that.

But between third and fourth periods, I’m dragged right back. Because there, right in the hall, is Haruto watanabe.

At first I think I might be mistaken. There are plenty of kids who could look like Haruto. But then I see the way the other kids in the hall are reacting to him, as if he’s this walking joke. He’s trying to make it seem like he doesn’t notice the laughter, the snickers, the snarky comments. But he can’t hide how uncomfortable he is.

I think: He deserves this. He didn’t have to say a word. He could’ve just let it slide.

And I think: It’s my fault. I’m the one who did this to him.

I access Jeongwoo and find out that he and Haruto were good friends in elementary school, and are still friendly now. So it makes sense that when he passes by me, I say hello. And that he says hello back.

I sit with my friends at lunch. Some of the guys ask me about the game last night, and I answer vaguely, accessing the whole time.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Haruto sit down at his own table, eating alone. I don’t remember him being friendless, just dull. But it looks as if he’s friendless now.

“I’m going to go talk to Haruto,” I tell my friends.

One of them groans. “Really? I’m so sick of him.”

“I hear he’s doing talk shows now,” another chimes in.

“You would think the devil would have more important things to do than take a Subaru for a joyride on a Saturday night.”

“Seriously.”

I pick up my tray before the conversation can go any further, and tell them I’ll see them later.

Haruto sees me coming over, but still seems surprised when I sit down with him.

“Do you mind?” I ask.

“No,” he says. “Not at all.”

I don’t know what I’m doing. I think of his last email—PROVE IT—and half expect those words to flash from his eyes, for there to be some challenge that I will have to meet. I am the proof. I am right in front of him. But he doesn’t know that.

“So how are you doing?” I ask, picking up a fry, trying to act like this is a normal lunchtime conversation between friends.

“Okay, I guess.” I get a sense that for all the attention people have been giving him, not many people have been asking him how he’s doing.

“So what’s new?”

He glances over my shoulder. “Your friends are looking at us.”

I turn around, and everyone from my old table suddenly looks anywhere but here.

“Whatever,” I say. “Don’t pay attention to them. To any of them.”

“I’m not. They don’t understand.”

“I understand. I mean, I understand that they don’t understand.”

“I know.”

“It must be pretty overwhelming, though, having everyone so interested. And all the blogs and stuff. And this reverend.”

I wonder if I’ve pushed too far. But Haruto seems happy to talk. Jeongwoo is a good guy.

“Yeah, he really gets it. He knew people would give me grief. But he told me I had to be stronger. I mean, having people laugh is nothing compared to surviving a possession.”

Surviving a possession. I have never thought about what I do in those terms. I never thought my presence was something that anyone would have to survive.

Haruto sees me thinking. “What?” he asks.

“I’m just curious—what do you remember from that day?”

Now a wariness creeps into his expression.

“Why are you asking?”

“Curiosity, I guess. I’m not doubting you. Not at all. I just feel like, in all the things I’ve read and all the things people have said, I never really got to hear your side. It’s all been secondhand and thirdhand and probably seventh- or eighth-hand, so I figured I’d just come and ask you firsthand.”

I know I’m on dangerous ground here. I can’t make Jeongwoo too much of a confidant, because tomorrow will come and he might not remember anything that’s been said, and that might make Haruto suspicious. But at the same time, I want to know what he remembers.

Haruto wants to talk. I can see it. He knows he’s stepped off his own map. And while he won’t pull back, he also regrets it a little. I don’t think he ever meant for it to take over his life.

“It was a pretty normal day,” he tells me. “Nothing unusual. I was home with my parents. I did chores, that kind of thing. And then—I don’t know. Something must have happened. Because I made up this story about a school musical and borrowed their car for the night. I don’t remember the musical part—they told me that later. But there I was, driving around. And I had these … urges. Like I was being drawn somewhere.”

He pauses.

“Where?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know. This is the weird part. There are a few hours there that are completely blank. I have this sense of not being in control of my body, but that’s it. I have flashes of a party, but I have no idea where, or who else was there. Then suddenly I’m being woken up by a policeman. And I haven’t drunk a sip. I haven’t done any drugs. They tested for that, you know.”

“What if you had a seizure?”

“Why would I borrow my parents’ car to have a seizure? No, there was something else in control. The reverend says I must have wrestled with the devil. Like Jacob. I must have known my body was being used for something evil, and I fought it. And then, when I won, the devil left me by the side of the road.”

He believes this. He genuinely believes this.

And I can’t tell him it’s not true. I can’t tell him what really happened. Because if I do, Jeongwoo will be in danger. I will be in danger.

“It didn’t have to be the devil,” I say.

Haruto becomes defensive. “I just know, okay? And I’m not the only one. There are lots of people out there who’ve experienced the same thing. I’ve chatted with a few of them. It’s scary how many things we have in common.”

“Are you afraid it will happen again?”

“No. I’m prepared this time. If the devil is anywhere near me, I’ll know what to do.”

I sit right there across from him and listen.

He doesn’t recognize me.

I am not the devil.

This thought is what echoes through my mind the rest of the day.

I am not the devil, but I could be.

Looking at it from afar, looking at it from a perspective like Haruto’s, I can see how scary it could be. Because what’s to stop me from doing harm? What punishment would there be if I took the pencil in my hand and gouged out the eye of the girl sitting next to me in chem class? Or worse. I could easily get away with the perfect crime. The body that committed the murder would inevitably get caught, but the murderer would go free. Why haven’t I thought of this before?

I have the potential to be the devil.

But then I think, Stop. I think, No. Because, really, does that make me any different from everyone else? Yes, I could get away with it, but certainly we all have the potential to commit the crime. We choose not to. Every single day, we choose not to. I am no different.

I am not the devil.

There is still no word from Hanni. Whether her silence is coming from her confusion or from a desire to be rid of me, I have no way of knowing.

I write to her and say, simply:

I have to see you again.

Yn

Day 6009

There’s still no word from her the next morning.

I get in the car and drive.

The car belongs to Kang taehyun. He should be in school. But I call the office pretending to be his father and say he has a doctor’s appointment.

It may last the entire day.

It’s a two-hour drive. I know I should spend it getting to know Kang taehyun, but he seems incidental to me right now. I used to inhabit lives like this all the time—testing the bare minimum I needed to know in order to get through the day. I got so good at it that I made it through a few days without accessing once. I’m sure these were very blank days for the bodies I was in, because they were extraordinarily blank days for me.

Most of the drive, I think about Hanni. How to get her back. How to keep in her good graces. How to make this work.

It’s the last part that’s the hardest.

When I get to her school, I park where Ahn yujin parked. The school day is already in full swing, so when I open the doors, I jump right into the fray. It’s between periods, and I have all of two minutes to find her.

I don’t know where she is. I don’t even know what period’s starting. I just push through the halls, looking for her. People brush by, tell me to watch where I’m going. I don’t care. There is everyone else, and there is her. I am only focused on her.

I let the universe tell me where to go. I rely purely on instinct, knowing that this kind of instinct comes from somewhere other than me, somewhere other than this body.

She is turning in to a classroom. But she stops. Looks up. Sees me.

I don’t know how to explain it. I am an island in the hall as people push around me. She is another island. I see her, and she knows exactly who I am. There is no way for her to know this. But she knows.

She walks away from the classroom, walks toward me. Another bell rings and the rest of the people drain out of the hall, leaving us alone together.

“Hey,” she says.

“Hey,” I say.

“I thought you might come.”

“Are you mad?”

“No, I’m not mad.” She glances back at the classroom. “Although Lord knows you’re not good for my attendance record.”

“I’m not good for anybody’s attendance record.”

“What’s your name today?”

“Yn,” I tell her. “For you, it’s always Yn.”

She has a test next period that she can’t skip, so we stay on the school grounds. When we start to encounter other kids—kids without classes this period, kids also cutting—she grows a little more cautious.

“Is Minji in class?” I ask, to give her fear a name.

“Yeah. If she decided to go.”

We find an empty classroom and go inside. From all the Shakespearean paraphernalia hanging on the walls, I’m guessing we’re in an English classroom. Or drama.

We sit in the back row, out of sight of the window in the door.

“How did you know it was me?” I have to ask.

“The way you looked at me,” she says. “It couldn’t have been anyone else.”

This is what love does: It makes you want to rewrite the world. It makes you want to choose the characters, build the scenery, guide the plot. The person you love sits across from you, and you want to do everything in your power to make it possible, endlessly possible. And when it’s just the two of you, alone in a room, you can pretend that this is how it is, this is how it will be.

I take her hand and she doesn’t pull away. Is this because something between us has changed, or is it only because my body has changed? Is it easier for her to hold Kang taehyun’s hand?

The electricity in the air is muted. This is not going to lead to anything more than an honest conversation.

“I’m sorry about the other night,” I say again.

“I deserve part of the blame. I never should have called her.”

“What did she say? Afterward?”

“She kept calling you ‘that bitch.’ ”

“Charming.”

“I think she sensed it was a trap. I don’t know. She just knew something was off.”

“Which is probably why she passed the test.”

Hanni pulls away. “That’s not fair.”

“I’m sorry.”

I wonder why it is that she’s strong enough to say no to me, but not strong enough to say no to her.

“What do you want to do?” I ask her.

She matches my glance perfectly. “What do you want me to do?”

“I want you to do whatever you feel is best for you.”

“That’s the wrong answer,” she tells me.

“Why is it the wrong answer?”

“Because it’s a lie.”

You are so close, I think. You are so close, and I can’t reach you.

“Let’s go back to my original question,” I say. “What do you want to do?”

“I don’t want to throw everything away for something uncertain.”

“What about me is uncertain?”

She laughs. “Really? Do I have to explain it to you?”

“Besides that. You know you are the most important person I’ve ever had in my life. That’s certain.”

“In just two weeks. That’s uncertain.”

“You know more about me than anyone else does.”

“But I can’t say the same for you. Not yet.”

“You can’t deny that there’s something between us.”

“No. There is. When I saw you today—I didn’t know I’d been waiting for you until you were there. And then all of that waiting rushed through me in a second. That’s something … but I don’t know if it’s certainty.”

I know what I’m asking of you, I want to say. But I stop myself. Because I realize that would be another lie. And she’d call me on it.

She looks at the clock. “I have to get ready for my test. And you have another life to get back to.”

I can’t help myself. I ask, “Don’t you want to see me?”

She holds there for a moment. “I do. And I don’t. You would think it would make things easier, but it actually makes them harder.”

“So I shouldn’t just show up here?”

“Let’s stick to email for now. Okay?”

And just like that, the universe goes wrong. Just like that, all the enormity seems to shrink into a ball and float away from my reach.

I feel it, and she doesn’t.

Or I feel it, and she won’t.

[damonjuicyscock]

Playlist-Chapter 1 (90s Noel Gallagher X Reader)

Pairing: 70s Noel Gallagher X Reader

Warnings: nothing really, maybe just a bit language and maybe a few spelling mistakes

Words: 1111

Summary: This is the beginning. How everything started for Y/N and Noel. How they met, how they were at 5 and 10 years old.

A/N: Heya everyone, here it is, the first chapter of the fan fic you've all been waiting for ! This is a short chapter, it's only a beginning and corresponds to Y/N and Noel's childhood. Chapter 2 out next week ! Enjoy !

(He was so cute back then OMG)

“Television man is crazy Saying we're juvenile delinquent wrecks Oh, man, I need TV when I got T-Rex Oh, brother, you've guessed, I'm a dude, dad

All the young dudes (hey, dudes!) Carry the news (where are you?) Boogaloo dudes (stand up, come on!) Carry the news

All the young dudes (I want to hear you!) Carry the news (I want to see you!) Boogaloo dudes (and I want to talk to you! All of you!) Carry the news

Now Lucy looks sweet 'cause he dresses like a queen But he can kick like a mule, it's a real mean team But we can love Oh yes, we can love

And my brother's back at home with his Beatles and his Stones We never got it off on that revolution stuff What a drag Too many snags”

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

How and when do you know when you’ve met your soulmate? The love of your life? When you’re 5? 15? 25?

When you’re 5, you’re a princess who believes she has a prince out there. You get kisses on the cheeks by a little boy who likes you.

At 15, you’re an outsider, believing love might come one day, but you’re too busy to care about that and instead, you spend your time worrying about your best friend who’s being beaten up by his father.

At 25, you think you found love but you’re wrong. Your boyfriend is violent, beats you, almost kills you, and you never forgot about your first love, your soulmate, who decides to come back in your life.

That’s my story. Mine and my soulmate’s. Mine and Noel’s.

And everything has a beginning.

I was born in 1967 in London, but I lived in New York, Los Angeles, and Sydney, which I don’t remember because I was too little to care. When I was 5, we moved to Manchester. My grandfather had just died, and my uncle needed help with my grandpa’s company.

That’s when I was put in the same school and class as a cute little boy called Noel Gallagher.

He was often alone and didn’t talk much. And when he talked, he was mocked by others because he stammered. On my side, I also was mocked because I was the new one in school.

What didn’t help Noel and I didn’t know yet, was that he was beaten up by father and the arrival of his newly born brother William also known as Liam. I didn’t discover it until 5 years later.

Approximatively a week after my arrival, I decided Noel would become my friend.

During recess, I decided to sit next to him on the bench. He looked at me with an interrogative look, saying nothing.

1972:

Hi Noel! I said to start the conversation

Huh h-h-hello Y/N.

What are you doing?

Just looking at t-t-the others.

You’re always alone.

Ye too!

We could be buddies!

W-W-Why do ye want to be m-me buddy?

I mean… just like that.

The little boy thought in silence for a few minutes, which I thought meant a “no”.

And when the bell rang, while I was almost crying because I had no buddy, the young boy stood up and handed me his hand.

Yer coming buddy? He asked

I was stunned. It finally was a yes in the end. I stood up and gave him my hand, a big smile on my face.

Noel discretely asked our teacher if he could come and sit next to me. She smiled and kindly approved. She had been worried about Noel being and staying all alone before I asked him to be my friend. Did I do well and right? Fuck yes.

At the end of the afternoon, hand in hand, we walked home together.

Would you believe me if I told you we were neighbours, our houses next to each other’s without knowing it yet?

Well, it was the case.

Yer leaving t-there? He asked, surprised

Yes, why?

This is my house just next to y-yers!

We are neighbours? I asked

Yes we are! He answered

This is so cool! Come play with me!

To w-what? Dolls?

No, ball!

Got t-t-to ask me mam first!

Go, I’ll be asking mine and I’ll wait you here!

Noel’s mum, Peggy, agreed, we played football together until 7pm before she came to pick him with baby Liam in her arms. What I wasn’t waiting for was for my mum and Peggy to become the best of friends.

*

1977:

Noel and I were now 10 years old, and he just had joined the neighbourhood football team. Not being interested in another sport, I wanted to join the team as well.

One day, after school, Noel took me to his training so I could meet the coach. What I didn’t plan was his and the other children’s reaction. They laughed at me, which made me angry.

Noel, the lassies don’t play football! The coach laughed

And why so? I answered, with my fists balled up

Because ye can’t play football, it’s a dude sport!

Oh you bet? Noel, we’ll show him.

I took the ball the coach was holding, and Noel and I we started playing. The coach still wasn’t impressed.

Okay, ye can play with yer buddies, but what about a whole team lassie?

Try me!

As ye wish.

The coach blew his whistle, and the other kids places themselves on the football pitch. I also placed myself while Noel took his jacket off, and that was the first time I saw theses. The bruises. But I didn’t ask any question, maybe he fell during training.  The coach whistled again.

The boys passed the ball back and forth between them, pretending I wasn’t there, but I made up for it by catching the ball in my turn, and scored a goal.

This time, I convinced everyone. They all stopped moving and talking. Noel, him, was smiling.

I approached the coach, proud.

And now? You’re convinced?

Aye. Welcome to our team.

I smiled.

By the way, my name is Y/N, not Lassie.

I’ll make sure to remember it kid.

So, when are the days of training and what do I have to buy?

Yes, when I was a child, I was sassy. It got worse when I was a teen, but I calmed down when becoming an adult.

Besides being my neighbour, Noel was also my best friend. And oh, as we got older, I was more and more worried about him…

[readandenjoy]

Brian May x Male Reader Oneshot! (my first publication that emotion) ((ENGLISH))

Warnings: Overly cute, Brian being too sweet, You're sweet

Brian would definitely be the big spoon, or sometimes you would wake up with his hair all over your face depending on the weather😽

He would definitely wake up around 7 or 8 so he would have time to make you your favorite breakfast (love the kid) and take it to bed (love x2)

When you wake up he would give you a kiss on the mouth and kisses all over your face then would hug you and then you get up and prepare for a tiring day

It depends on the day if you have to do the shopping or stay at home with a very softie Brian

Option 1 (You stay at home with Brian 💗)

After breakfast they would both go to bathe at the same time but don't think ugly things, Brian would be very respectful and would not do anything to you while they bathe unless you ask (ojoporojo 👀)

After bathing and drying off you would put his creams to the hair (I don't know why but I imagine that Brian puts cream in his hair to make it look nice) and if you use some cream for your short hair (if you have short hair obviously) then he would put it on you

Then they would both start cleaning the house while listening to the Beatles, then they would both be very tired and would throw themselves on the sofa to put on a movie and go to sleep again (but only a 30-minute nap).

When they wake up, it will probably be time for a snack (here where I live, snacks are just for a coffee and bread) like the old money that Brian is, he would take you to Starbucks for a snack, and then they would go to a shopping center to buy things and pamper yourself

They would leave around 6 and then go home. In this case, you make dinner and you're kind of in the kitchen, so you'd do your best, but whatever Brian wants, he'll eat whatever you make. For him, that would be the most delicious in the world (Even though he was pooped)

After that they would both get ready to sleep (because I feel that Brian is a man who goes to sleep at 9 😨) They would put on their shared teddy pajamas and go to sleep

-B: Good night my love～

-M/n: Good night Bri ♡

Option 2 (Brian goes with the boys and you stay at home) ❤️

First, if it's cold, you would put Brian's knitted scarf for you (what a nice gesture) and then you would say goodbye to him with a soft kiss and then go back inside and fall asleep for another little while

After waking up you would get ready to do the monthly shopping, grab a lot of fruit and of course a lot of grapefruit (I saw that May's favorite fruit was grapefruit so) you would pay and immediately go home because of the great cold of London

After putting everything away, you would go to the boys to listen to their practices and gossip a bit with Freddie, who annoyed you by saying that you are more Gay than himself, since you and Brian cannot spend a minute without hugging or kissing.

It should be clarified that Brian was never afraid of success and made his relationship public, which most of his fans took well and the others (those who took it badly) go to hell ♡

After you finish their practices and your ears are blessed by their songs, you would hug everyone goodbye and go home with Brian.

Then they would do the whole routine of bathing and putting on a cream and now if they go to sleep

I hope you liked my first publication, just to clarify that English is not my first language and I do fanfics in Spanish but I modify it in the google translator lol, in fact what I am writing I am also translating anyway make requests beautiful people (please) 💖😿

[panakinthedisco]

PART 1 | TICKET TO RIDE  ━━ Joel Miller

summary: you're the new science teacher and adviser in Sarah Miller’s class and of course, her dad couldn’t keep his eyes to his daughter’s new teacher.

author's note: contractor!joel miller is rotting in my head for months so i've got to do this. and yes, i'm putting my beatle obsession in here for funsies. this is also a mini series :)

other notes: au, elementary teacher!reader x contractor!joel,  no outbreak!joel miller, sarah lives, single dad x teacher, smut but this is a slow burn romance, maybe angst? reader is a fan of the beatles and a mccartney girlie while joel is a george harrison stannie! age gap (reader is in the middle of 20s x joel miller in his 30s), sarah being a cute matchmaker to her dad!

word count: 4.3k

“Dad, wake up now! We’re going to be late for the family orientation.”

He heard Sarah yell from the bottom of the stairs, and the man groaned beneath his pillow. Is it really today? He thought, trying to open his eyes as the daylight already blinded him. Of course, Sarah had already opened the curtains—no reason for him to dose off again.

Joel Miller isn’t fond of family orientations or family day at school—either parents would give nonsensical suggestions or discuss things he didn’t bother to engage with. But of course, he was doing it for his daughter and, for some reason, parent attendance was required. Last year, he missed the family orientation due to a project he and Tommy were working on. Sarah understood that her father had a hectic schedule, but since she was the class president, her adviser asked where her father was.

Her adviser was quite old, almost in her fifties, and quite fond of Sarah. Joel felt that her teacher was intruding into their personal life, and it was getting out of hand.

He silently hoped that his daughter had a new adviser. The old woman kept pestering him about why he wasn’t with Sarah on that particular family day. The man tried his best to be polite for the sake of his daughter, but if he had the opportunity to say something rude or outright tell her to fuck off, it might be soon.

Grumpily, he vacated his bed, hurriedly grabbed his jeans and the shirt that was thrown on the dresser last night. As he went downstairs, Tommy and Sarah were already waiting for him. Like any other day, Sarah had prepared breakfast for her dad and made some black coffee. Tommy, his younger brother, greeted him while munching on toast, “Your daughter is going to kick your ass.”

Joel rolled his eyes and sat down to drink his coffee and eat his toast. A few minutes later, Sarah emerged from the kitchen, ready with her bag and books. She noticed her dad’s attire. “Dad, you’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What?” There was confusion in Joel’s voice.

Sarah playfully rolled her eyes and came closer to her dad. “You are not wearing that shirt. I already prepared a long-sleeve for you because I want you to make a good impression on my new adviser.”

“I ain’t wearing those things,” Joel said with a stern tone, trying to brush it off.

Sarah looked at her Uncle Tommy, who just shrugged his shoulders, about to laugh at the situation. Of course, her uncle wouldn’t help, but being the only girl in the house, her persuasive demeanor still prevailed, though Joel couldn’t admit it. He could see how his own daughter tried to boss him about what to wear, so he sighed heavily and replied reluctantly, “Fine, fine.” He raised both hands as if in defeat.

His daughter smiled widely and gave him a quick peck on the cheek. “Thanks, Dad. And don’t worry, this will be the last time you’ll wear it.”

Joel rolled his eyes profusely because he knew this wasn’t going to be the last time. But at the back of his mind, he just wanted to be the best dad for Sarah. Fatherhood might be tiring but he’s fully aware that those meetings are important for his daughter. But at the same time, he hoped it would end his misery as PTA meetings terrified him ever since. 

After breakfast and getting all ready, the Millers readied to go to the school, Joel started up his truck. Sarah, full of energy, hopped into the passenger seat. 

"Ready to go, kiddo?" Joel asked, glancing at his daughter who was putting on her seat belt. 

"Yup, ready." Sarah replied with a grin, adjusting her backpack.

The drive to the school was filled with the sound of the radio playing softly in the background and light conversation about Sarah’s classes and friends. The early morning sun cast a golden hue over the suburban landscape, with neatly trimmed lawns and white picket fences lining the streets.. 

They arrived at the school, a large brick building with ivy crawling up the sides, and a freshly painted sign that read "Riverton Middle School." The parking lot was already bustling with activity—parents chatting with each other, kids running around, and teachers directing traffic. The school grounds were well-kept, with flower beds lining the walkways and a large oak tree providing shade near the entrance and Joel noticed that they’re a lot of people. Sarah groaned loudly; “They’re a lot more of them than last year.” 

“Maybe there’s a high rate of students this year.” Joel tells her, earning an agreement from his daughter. As they pulled up to the school, Sarah unbuckled her seatbelt as Joel pulled up to the curb.

"I'll hop out here and reserve some seats for us, okay?" she said, opening the door.

Joel nodded. "Good idea. I'll find a place to park and meet you inside."

Sarah quickly jumped out of the truck and dashed towards the school entrance. Joel watched her for a moment, a fond smile on his face, before turning his attention to finding a parking spot.

Navigating the busy parking lot, Joel's attention wavered for just a second, and he almost hit a young woman wearing a skirt and white long sleeves. It was pretty obvious she was either a staff member or a teacher at the school. Joel's eyes darted to the woman, and he quickly shook his senses back into place.

"Oh, damn! Sorry!" Joel called out from his window, hoping he didn't scare her too much.

The woman, looking slightly startled but quickly recovering, smiled at him and gave a thumbs-up. "No worries!"

Joel watched as she frantically ran towards the school entrance in her black high heels, her steps quick and purposeful. He sighed, blaming himself for getting distracted. It had been a long time since he'd gone out much or dated anyone. Women were complicated, and for him, dating was exhausting and should do a lot of work. 

Joel finally found a parking spot near the back of the lot, squeezed his truck into the space, and turned off the engine. He sat there for a moment, collecting his thoughts, then got out and locked the door. The air was filled with the sound of laughter and conversation, the occasional bird chirping from the nearby trees. Joel took a deep breath and started walking towards the school.

The school building loomed ahead, its large windows reflecting the morning sunlight. Parents and children streamed through the front doors, greeted by the friendly staff who handed out flyers and directed them to various locations. The flower beds lining the walkways were in full bloom, adding a splash of color to the scene.

Inside the school, the hallways were decorated with student artwork and colorful posters advertising various clubs and activities. The smell of freshly polished floors mingled with the faint scent of cafeteria food. Joel made his way down the main hallway, glancing at the room numbers as he tried to find Sarah’s classroom.

As he turned a corner, he spotted the young woman from earlier. She was busy assisting parents, her white long-sleeved shirt and skirt making her stand out among the crowd. She seemed calm and efficient, helping each parent with a warm smile.

Joel approached her slowly, feeling slightly awkward but determined to get directions. As he neared, she looked up and smiled, recognizing him from their earlier encounter.

“Hello again!” You greeted cheerfully. “How can I help you?”

Joel returned the smile, though a bit sheepishly. “Hi. I’m looking for the auditorium. My daughter is Sarah Miller.”

You nodded and quickly scanned the papers you were holding. Your expression brightened with recognition. “Oh, Sarah Miller! She’s one of my students.”

Joel’s eyebrows raised in surprise. “Really?”

“Yes, I’m the new adviser,” you said, extending your hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Miller.”

Joel shook your hand, feeling a mixture of relief and curiosity. “Nice to meet you too. I didn’t realize you were Sarah’s new adviser. Her adviser, Ms. Thompson was Sarah's adviser last year. ”

You nodded. “Ahh. Yes, I just started this semester because Ms. Thompson left for another school. I’m more like the temporary stand-in for Sarah’s class but then, I’m glad I’ve got to meet you personally, Mr. Miller.”

Joel smiled, feeling a bit more at ease. “Well, I’m here for family orientation. Sarah’s already inside, reserving seats.”

“That’s great! The auditorium is just down the hall to your left. I’ll see you both in there soon,” You said, gesturing in the direction Joel needed to go.

“Thanks,” Joel replied. He turned to head towards the auditorium but then paused. “And sorry again about earlier. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

You laughed lightly. “No harm done. I’m just glad we got to properly meet. See you inside!”

Joel nodded and continued down the hallway, following your directions. As he nodded and walked away, you turned back to assist another parent. Joel, however, lingered for a moment, watching you. He couldn't help but think that the new adviser of his daughter was pretty. He noticed your efficient manner as you helped a mother with directions, your smile warm and genuine. Shaking his head slightly, he reminded himself to focus.

Joel continued down the hallway, following your directions. He passed by colorful posters advertising various school events and student artwork decorating the walls. He glanced back once more and saw you still busy, assisting parents and ensuring everything was running smoothly. Miller finds it comical on why he can’t take his eyes off of you – oh he’s going to be distracted the whole time. 

He quickly left to the aisle, the smell of freshly polished floors mingled with the faint scent of cafeteria food. Joel made his way to the auditorium, where Sarah had already saved a couple of seats near the front.

"Over here, Dad!" she called, waving him over.

Joel smiled and joined her, sitting down and taking in the lively atmosphere. The auditorium was filled with families, all eagerly chatting and finding their places. The stage was set up with a podium and a large screen displaying a welcome message for the family orientation day.

Joel glanced around, taking in the scene. He still wasn’t fond of these events, but seeing Sarah’s excitement made it worthwhile. As the principal took the stage and the room quieted down, Joel settled in for what he knew would be a long morning, but one he was willing to endure for his daughter.

The bustling chatter in the auditorium began to quiet down as one of the oldest teachers, Mrs. Henderson, stepped onto the stage. She tapped the microphone lightly to get everyone's attention.

“Good morning, everyone. The meeting is about to start. Please find your seats,” Mrs. Henderson announced with a warm yet authoritative voice.

Parents and students quickly settled into their seats. Joel, sitting next to Sarah in the front row, glanced around and then looked up at the stage. He saw you standing to the side, glancing at your notes. As Mrs. Henderson finished her announcement and left the stage, you stepped forward and approached the podium.

“Good morning, parents and students,” you began, your voice clear and welcoming. “On behalf of Riverton Middle School, I’d like to extend a warm welcome to all of you. We’re delighted to see so many new faces, as well as our returning students.”

Joel watched you intently as you spoke, appreciating your poise and the genuine enthusiasm in your voice. Beside him, Sarah leaned in and whispered, “Dad, that’s my new adviser.”

Joel nodded, still focused on you. “She seems nice.”

“She’s really good at teaching science,” Sarah added, a note of admiration in her voice. “I never liked science nor biology but she’s always been patient and very interactive in class. She’s pretty cool.”

As you continued your speech, detailing the school's plans for the year and highlighting upcoming events, Joel couldn’t help but be impressed. Your confidence and dedication were evident, and it was clear you cared deeply about your students.

Before Joel could say anything more, Sarah teased him with a playful grin. “Dad, do you have a crush on my adviser?”

Joel looked at her, momentarily flustered. “What? No, I just think she seems like a great teacher.”

Sarah stifled a silent chuckle, clearly amused by her father’s reaction. Joel glanced back at you, trying to hide his embarrassment, but couldn't deny to himself that he found you quite impressive.

As your speech came to a close, you said, “Thank you all for being here today. We look forward to a fantastic year ahead, filled with learning and growth. If you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to reach out to any of our staff members. Enjoy the rest of the orientation.”

The audience applauded, and you stepped back from the podium, smiling at the crowd. Joel joined in the applause, feeling a renewed sense of optimism for the school year. Sarah nudged him gently, still grinning.

“You’re right,” Joel said quietly, leaning towards Sarah. “She does seem like a great teacher.”

Sarah chuckled, “Dad, you’re absolutely smitten.” ​​After the meeting in the auditorium, the principal announced that parents and students should proceed to their respective classrooms to meet the teachers. Joel stood up alongside Sarah, who eagerly tugged at his arm.

“Come on, Dad. Let’s go meet my adviser in our classroom,” Sarah said excitedly.

Joel followed Sarah through the bustling hallways, filled with other parents and students making their way to various rooms. They saw you leading the group of parents and students towards your designated classroom, your confident demeanor helping to guide everyone smoothly through the school. As you reached the door of your classroom, you paused and turned to address the group.

“Welcome to our classroom! Please come in and find a seat,” you said warmly.

Parents and children filed into the room, finding seats at the desks or standing along the walls. The room was bright and cheerful, with large windows letting in plenty of natural light. The walls were covered in educational posters and student projects, and there was a large whiteboard at the front.

Sarah approached you with a big smile. “Hello!”

You smiled back, genuinely pleased to see her. “Hi, Sarah! How are you doing?”

“I’m doing well,” Sarah replied, her eyes shining with excitement.

As Sarah and you exchanged greetings, Joel hung back slightly, giving you both some space. But Sarah wasn’t having any of it. She grabbed her father’s arm and pulled him forward.

“By the way, this is my dad, Joel Miller,” Sarah said proudly.

You extended your hand to Joel with a friendly smile. “It’s nice to meet you again, Mr. Miller. We’ve already met earlier, Sarah.”

Joel shook your hand, feeling a bit awkward but trying to hide it. “My daughter speaks very highly of you, Ma’am.”

“Your daughter has always been wonderful in my class.” You said proudly to Sarah. 

Sarah gave her father a mischievous grin, which made Joel look at her with confusion. Sensing an opportunity to break the ice, Sarah spoke up.

“If you ever have any problems with plumbing or anything in the house, my dad’s an expert,” she said with a cheeky smile.

You laughed lightly, clearly amused. “Sarah, you’re so sweet. I’ll definitely keep that in mind. Thank you.”

Before Joel could respond, you excused yourself as you noticed one of your fellow teachers waving you over from across the room. “Excuse me for a moment. I’ll be right back,” you said, making your way towards your colleague.

As you walked away, Joel turned to Sarah, raising an eyebrow. “What are you doing?”

Sarah grinned up at her father. “Just helping you get a shot, Dad.”

Joel looked bewildered. “A shot at what?”

Sarah giggled, shaking her head. “A shot at getting to know her. She’s really nice, and you like her, don’t you?”

Joel sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Sarah, I suggest you stop this but then, I appreciate the thought.”

Sarah beamed at him, feeling proud of her matchmaking attempt. “You never know, Dad.”

Joel chuckled softly, giving his daughter a gentle nudge. “Let’s get inside the classroom, Cupid.” Earning a hearty laugh from his daughter who is always fond of her father’s light teasing. As Joel and Sarah entered the classroom, Sarah led her father to a seat at the front. Joel noticed the familiar setting of desks and colorful educational posters. He settled into his seat, feeling the buzz of conversation around him.

“Hi, Joel!” a cheerful voice called out.

Joel turned to see Lisa, a blonde woman he knew from the grocery store. She gave him a bright smile. He smiled back politely, feeling a slight awkwardness.

“Hey, Lisa,” Joel replied.

As Lisa moved to find a seat with her daughter at the other side of the classroom, Sarah leaned in close and whispered, “Dad, it seems Lisa still likes you.”

Joel sighed internally. He was well aware of Lisa’s interest. He had been hired to fix the roof of her home a few months back, and since then, Lisa had made several attempts to get closer to him. She would invite him to stay for coffee, dinner, or just to chat. Some of her invitations were tempting, and he couldn't deny that. Even Tommy, his younger brother, kept urging him to give someone a chance, thinking he needed a change in his life.

But Joel wasn’t fond of romantic entanglements. His world had always been his work and Sarah. Anything more felt like an unnecessary complication. He felt that if something disrupted his already mundane life, it would cause chaos. He had gone on dates here and there, but nothing ever seemed to work out. It was as if a curse followed him when it came to finding a date

“Yeah, I know, Sarah,” Joel muttered, not wanting to delve deeper into the conversation.

Lisa took a seat a few rows back, still keeping an eye on Joel. Sarah grinned at her father, sensing the tension but also feeling a bit mischievous.

“Dad, you should give her a chance,” she said quietly. “Uncle Tommy thinks you need someone in your life. It might be nice for a change.”

Joel shook his head, trying to push away the thoughts. “It’s not that simple, Sarah.”

His mind wandered back to the few dates he had been on, none of which had led to anything meaningful. Maybe there really was a curse when it came to his love life. He was used to the routine, the predictability of his days. Introducing something—or someone—new seemed risky.

As the parents and students settled in, you entered the room, carrying a few papers. You greeted everyone with a smile and began to introduce yourself, explaining your role and what the parents could expect for the school year.

“Good morning, everyone. I’m thrilled to be your children’s adviser this year. We have a lot of exciting plans and activities lined up, and I’m looking forward to working with all of you to make this a fantastic year for our students.” The small meeting was in full swing, the parents seated in rows of chairs as you stood at the front of the classroom, guiding the discussion. The topic shifted to the election of the classroom's parent representatives.

"Now, it's time to elect the class president, vice president, secretary, and treasurer among the parents," you announced with a bright smile.

Sarah, sitting beside her father, quickly raised her hand. "I nominate my dad, Joel Miller, for president!"

Joel's eyes widened in surprise and he shook his head slightly, whispering to Sarah, "Sarah, no. I don't want to be involved in this."

But it was too late. You had already written his name on the board, "Joel Miller for president. Are there any other nominations?"

A few other parents nominated their spouses or friends, but Joel's name was the first one up there. Joel leaned over to Sarah, his voice low and urgent. "Sarah, this is a bad idea. I don’t know anything about this kind of stuff."

Sarah smiles reassuringly and winks at her father who wants to leave the classroom. "Relax, Dad. You’ll be great."

Joel sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “I don't know what you’re doing here, Sarah Miller.” His daughter only smiled at him and looked around the classroom as you called the other names of the parents. The other nominations were noted, and you began announcing each nominee's name, taking a brief moment to explain the voting process.

"Alright, everyone. We'll start with the president. Please raise your hand for the candidate you support. First up, Joel Miller."

Joel’s worst fear was realized as a majority of the parents raised their hands. He noticed that many of them were familiar faces, clients who knew him from his contracting work around town. They trusted him, seeing him as a reliable and capable person.

You counted the hands and nodded. "It looks like the majority has voted for Joel Miller as our class president. Congratulations, Mr. Miller."

The room erupted in polite applause, and Joel, feeling a mix of pride and reluctance, forced a smile. He caught your eye, and you gave him an encouraging nod. Sarah then speaks out loud, “Speech!” Everyone seemed to agree, he gave a look to his daughter who seemed to be having a great time embarrassing him so he reluctantly stood up, his hands in his pocket; “Thank you, everyone. I’ll do my best to serve as your class president.”

Sarah beamed at him, clearly proud of her father. Joel sat back down, still processing what had just happened. He whispered to Sarah, “I can’t believe you did that.”

Sarah giggled. “You’ll be amazing, Dad.” As the nominations wrapped up, Joel was still reeling from his unexpected election as the president. Other familiar faces were chosen for the other positions: Mike, a friendly neighbor, was elected vice president; Linda, who worked at the local library, was elected secretary; and Carlos, another client from his contracting work, was elected treasurer.

"Thank you all for participating," you announced, signaling the end of the meeting. "I look forward to working with all of you."

The parents began to gather their things, ready to leave. Joel stood, feeling a bit dazed by the turn of events. Just as he was about to join the crowd heading for the door, you called out to him.

"Mr. Miller, could you stay for a moment?"

Joel stopped in his tracks, his mind still processing everything. Sarah, standing beside him, laughed and teased, "I'll be waiting in the truck, Dad." She gave him a playful nudge and left.

Joel turned back and saw you gesturing for him to come over. He walked towards you, feeling a mix of apprehension and curiosity. You motioned for him to sit in front of your desk.

"Congratulations on your election, Mr. Miller," you began, smiling warmly. "I'm really happy that you won."

Joel chuckled nervously. "Thanks, but I’ve never been a president before. I have no idea how to do this."

You smiled, "It's also my first year as a teacher and an adviser too. It's incredibly terrifying, but I believe we can help each other improve the classroom."

Joel noticed the determination in your eyes despite your nervousness. You genuinely seemed to want to make a positive impact. 

"Okay." Joel said. 

You nodded, clearly appreciative of his willingness to try. "Absolutely. We'll brainstorm together. I wanted to mention that we'll need to plan for the end of the week—discussing the budget and plans for a field trip for the class."

Joel chuckled, shaking his head. "I have no idea how to do that either."

You smiled reassuringly. "That's okay. We’ll work on it together. It’s all about teamwork."

Joel felt a bit more at ease. "Alright. Let's give it a shot."

You both stood up, and you told him; “Looking forward to see you again, Mr. Miller.”

Joel nodded, feeling a bit flustered. "Likewise," he replied before turning to leave. As he walked down the hallway, he couldn't shake the feeling of acting like a shy kid earlier. Why had he been so nervous? Maybe it was because he hadn't expected to be put in such a prominent role. Or perhaps it was something about you—your confidence, your warmth—that made him feel slightly off balance in a way he hadn't felt in years.

He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. 

When he reached the parking lot, he saw Sarah waiting by the truck, a mischievous glint in her eyes. She had her arms crossed, and her smile widened as he approached.

"What is it?" Joel asked, raising an eyebrow as he unlocked the truck.

Sarah climbed into the passenger seat, still grinning. "How was it, Dad?"

Joel started the truck, gripping the steering wheel a bit tighter than usual. "I wouldn't be doing it again if I had the choice," he muttered, backing out of the parking spot.

Sarah burst into laughter, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Oh, come on, Dad. You'll be great. My adviser seems really nice, and…pretty"

Joel sighed, but he couldn't help but smile a little at Sarah's enthusiasm. "We'll see about that. It's not exactly what I signed up for."

Sarah shook her head, still chuckling. "You’ll be fine, don’t stress it out. In fact, you’ve been working as a contractor and you’re scared of this?"

Joel glanced at his daughter, feeling a wave of affection. She was right, of course. "Yeah, I suppose you're right," he conceded as they drove home. "But don’t think this means you can sign me up for every school event."

Sarah laughed again. "No promises, Dad."

As they drove down the familiar roads, Joel felt a mixture of anxiety and anticipation. But one thing he couldn’t stop thinking about was how your brown eyes lit up when you seemed enthusiastic about the field trip plans, almost illuminating the room. 

CONTINUE READING: PART 2 | PART 3 ━━ AVAILABLE ON AO3

☆ MASTERLIST | NAVIGATION | SOCIALS | SIGN OFF BANNER MADE BY. @ALDERAANDORS ☆

[acrcsstheuniversee]

Anon Request:

Could you do a dom reader, sub Ringo and sub George threesome thing, with some teasing and sadomasochism? Thanks. (:

A Little Help From My Friends

Pairings: sub!George Harrison x sub!Ringo Starr x male!reader

Warnings: sadomasochism, violence, kink, threesome, humiliation 

Rating: Mature

Words: 2000+

Summary: It’s 1962. You are friends with George and Ringo who started dating shortly after Ringo joined The Beatles. They invite you over to have dinner at Ringo’s house but they set it up in hopes to get you to help them out with something.

Author’s Note: Hey anon! You didn’t specify the sex and/or gender of the reader so I made them cisgender male. I hope that’s okay with you. Otherwise, I just got creative with it, hah. I’ve never written a sadomasochism story. I hope everyone enjoys! I’m kind of nervous. Sorry the beginning kind of drags, so I understand if you skip to the porn. This was a challenge, so please don’t rip me a new one. I also got carried away with the word count.

*This story is fiction and written for leisure. Aspects of this story will not be historically accurate. I do not own The Beatles. I don’t make money off this. 

You rang the door bell of Ringo’s small house with your free hand, the other holding a bottle wine for the dinner. It wasn’t new for any of you to hold a dinner occasionally. It was strange for young men to enjoy cooking so you all kept it among yourselves.

Ringo and George recently told you that they started dating. You noticed they hit it off pretty well since you were good friends their competing bands prior to what well-known local band The Beatles are today.

Loud foot steps were heard from behind the door until suddenly a smiling Ringo revealed himself.

“Hey!” he said. “Long time, no see!”

“Like I didn’t see you yesterday, Ringo.” you laughed, stepping into the house.

Almost immediately, the aroma of garlic and chicken filled your nose and got stronger closer you walked towards the kitchen where you found George wearing a pink apron which looked like it belonged to Ringo’s mom who wasn’t home. He was craving freshly baked chicken and putting chucks of meat onto three plates.

“Smells good in here, Geo!” you said, making him glance to see who it was.

“Hey, thanks. I’m almost done, okay? Just take a seat in the dining room.”

You did as he said and sat at a nicely set up table for the three of you. Ringo came up from behind you and took the wine bottle out of your hand to pour into the glasses before taking a seat himself.

“Okay everyone, it’s done.” George came in holding all three plates and placing them gently in front of everyone. “I hope it came out right. It’ll definitely be better than what you cooked last time, Ringo.” he joked.

Ringo playfully kicked George’s shin and giggled. “Shut up!”

“Alright, alright. Let’s all eat now, yeah?” you laughed watching how much they were getting along.

You knew John and Paul as well, but things weren’t as natural with them like it was with George and Ringo. You weren’t sure what it was but you suspected it was because you slept with a couple of their friends---that were men of course. They were never rude to you about being gay. It seemed more about how awkward it was for them to find out on how many of their friends you’ve slept with. It’s safe to say that you’ve been around. You just teased that they were just jealous that you got more action than them. It was all fun and games, really.

The three of you continued to eat and laugh but the feeling in the room changed dramatically when the both of them started to ask questions about your sex life. It’s not like it bothered you though. You all talked about sex often but it almost seemed like they were interrogating you---especially about your experience in threesomes.

What was that like? Did you like it? How many people were there? Were you okay with that? That turned you on? Did you hurt them? You like hurting people?

“Guys, guys, guys,” you looked up at both of them. They looked scared and glanced at each other as if they were waiting for the other to say something. “What’s up with all ... these questions?”

Ringo bit his lip and stared at his boyfriend until George finally spoke up. 

“Well... w-we were wondering if... erm...” he dropped his eye contact with you and started to toy with his food. “...if you would show us-- or uhh... well, tell us more about threesomes...?”

Your eyes widened. Ringo and George were both staring at the table in embarrassment, scared to hear your answer.

You adjusted yourself in your seat and thought to yourself how funny this all was. You weren’t offended at all. You were actually quite flattered they even asked. Before the silence can go any longer, you just said, “Yes.”

Both of their heads perked and their faces lifted into small, shy smiles.

“Is this part of the reason why we held this dinner in Ringo’s empty house?” you teased.

Ringo turned red and nodded hesitantly. You smirked and stood up, making your way to Ringo’s room. Ringo and George looked at each other, unsure what to do until you yelled, “Well, I can’t show you if you’re over there now, can I?”

You heard them jolt up and made their way into the room where you sat at the edge of Ringo’s full-sized bed.

“Sit, both of you.” you said sternly, patting the spots on both sides of you. They complied without question. These twinks know exactly what they’re doing. “Well, go on then.”

They looked at each other before leaning over you to kiss one another, right in front of your face. You stared at the way their lips folded over each other and their tongues occasionally making an appearance as they slipped into each other’s mouths. Ringo slipped his hand onto your crotch and started to rub your already existing bulge. George moaned into their kiss as it got wetter. You can tell he wanted more. To help him out, you unbuttoned his jeans impatiently and snaked your hand under his slacks to grab his hard penis then started to pump, making him moan into the kiss again.

At this rate, you felt yourself getting bored. You let go George’s dick and pushed them apart.

“Take off your clothes, now.” you ordered. They stood up and obeyed again but this time even quicker. You stood up too and walked up to both of them and just stared at their bodies.

“Umm-” Ringo croaked out but was immediately interrupted by your hand quickly traveling across this face, making him yelp from the sudden strike. He held his cheek and stared at you with his big eyes. You looked down and saw Ringo’s dick only stiffen out more, making smirk. 

“Shut up and both of you bend over the bed.”

They rushed over and did as you said close together. You stared at their tight, pale asses and began to undo your belt, wanting nothing more put to make them red and the room fill with whines. Both of their cheeks clenched when they heard the sound of the metal buckle jingling, making you smirk. You folded the belt in half, holding the ends together.

Without any warning you gave both of them lash on the ass, making them squeal. “Oh two have been bad. Thinking nasty things.” You lashed them again, making the pink appear.

“We’re sorry. W-We just wanted-” Ringo talked again. You towered over him, having your hard member pressed against his ass through your jeans and wrapped the belt around his throat, pulling it to make him gasp for air.

“I swear to god Richie, you talk so god damn much.” you growled into his ear, pulling the belt more, making his back arch. George just stared as his boyfriend chocked under your belt, feeling his dick twitch at the sight.

“For that, you’ll be first.” you said as you unbuttoned your jeans with your other hand to release your member. You spat into your hand and coated your dick with it.

“Wait, I-” Before he could finish his sentence, you shoved your dick in his ass, making him yell. You pulled the leather around his neck tigher as you pumped in and out of his heat, forcing him to arch his back more. Ringo just moaned through his teeth with his eyes shut, feeling the pain and pleasure of how rough you were being.

You looked over at George who patiently waiting his turn. To give him some attention, you coated your pointer and middle finger in spit and squeezed them into his ass. The thin man moaned at how sharp the penetration was and gripped the sheets.

After about a minute, you stopped everything you were doing and instructed them to get fully on the bed. You had Ringo lay down, George on all fours with his ass to you and his face in between his boyfriend’s legs.

You lined yourself up with George’s hips and inserted yourself into his heat, causing him to moan. You pushed his head down to swallow Ringo’s cock and held him there by gripping his hair. Ringo started to moan you made George deep throat all while fucking him from behind. George was tighter than Ringo by a lot. You can tell he was very new to all of this. No wonder he was quiet.

Your free hand slapped George’s already pink cheeks over and over again as you pushed yourself into him. The room was filled with sounds of their moans, gagging, clapping, and slapping--just how you liked it.

You stopped slapping his ass and reached around to stroke his leaking penis. You pulled his head up from sucking off Ringo to arch his back to fuck him harder.

“Nnnghhh.. Ah! ...Mmm, ahh!” George whined through his wet and swollen lips. Ringo stared and stroked himself at the sight. You looked right into Ringo’s eyes as you continued to fuck his boyfriend roughly right in front of him.

You smirked before moving your grip in his hair to around his throat, allowing all five of your digits to tighten to make him gasp for air.

“Tell Ringo how good this feels...” you whispered into his ear as you stared at Ringo.

George peeked at Ringo with his half hooded eyes and croaked out, “Richie... It feels.... nghh... so good...” Ringo began to stroke himself faster after hearing his boyfriend’s strained voice.

“Good boy... now cum... but I want you to look at your boyfriends face when you do it,” you began to speed up your thrusts and jerked his dick faster.

George forced his eyes open to stare at Ringo who continued to jerk off. The thinner man felt the heat in his body move to his crotch as he neared climax. He felt every hard thrust in his asshole, making him slightly shake before his member released its load on the sheets. “Ngghhhh... fuck...”

You let go of him and pushed his limp body off to the other side of the bed to crawl over to Ringo who hasn’t quite finished it.

Your eyes met his baby blues and without even saying anything, you made sure he knew you were about to destroy him. Ringo bit his lip as you gripped the insides of his thighs and pushed them up giving you perfect access to his entrance. You inserted yourself once again and slammed inside of him, making sure to hit his g-spot every time. The smaller man let out sinful noises as you went balls deep. He was so pretty and more experienced than George was. You let go of his thighs, leaving marks where your fingers were and moved one hand to grip his throat.

He began to gasp for air, placing his hands on yours in attempt to peal them off but was interrupted again but a slap to the face by your free hand. Ringo’s dick began to leak precum. He loved it.

“Your the worst one, you know that?” you said, slapping him across his red face again. “I love seeing you helpless.”

“I-I’m... going... to cum,” he squeaked out.

“Yeah? Do it. With no touch.” you smirked.

You tightened your grip around his throat, making him close his eyes to focus on breathing and cumming without any stroking as you continued to pound into him.

“Hurry up!” you whacked him again, making him wince at the sharp pain that remained on his cheek.

“I-I’m ...mm...” he bit his lip as the sensation in his lower body built up. “Nnnghhh...” groaned as his semen squired onto his stomach, laying limp from the painful pleasure rushing through his body.

You let go and pulled out of him and began to stroke yourself to prepare for your load.

“Both of you come here.” you ordered.

George perked up from his high and crawled over to meet your dick face-to-face as did Ringo. They looked up at you and opened their mouths with their tongues out.

“Oh fuck...” you moaned as your pumped your dick, twisting your wrist at the top. They looked so good when their faces were all red and sweaty--just visibly worn out.

After a couple more seconds, your load came hard onto their faces. They closed their eyes as drips of your cum sprayed onto their cheeks and nose--most of it landing on George.

You collapsed onto you ass and laid back onto the bed. The two of them wiped the cum off their faces and crawled over to you, cuddling up to both of your sides. You wrapped your arms around both of them and stroked their backs gently.

“How was that?” you asked with your eyes closed.

All you got was a small nod from both of them as they began to doze off and that was good enough for you.

The End