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#I just love how George is drawn
rainbow600-art · 2 years
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So the way I draw Gengars doesn’t line up with how George looks. I’m still trying to figure out how to draw George, but I’m thinking I’m getting the hang of it! Though I wouldn’t be surprised if I changed how I draw him later lol.
George belongs to @devilsroost
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cherry-leclerc · 2 months
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wait for you ☆ cl16
genre: fluff, humor, tiny bit of smut, established relationship 
word count: 1.8k
An eager Charles tries to convince you to take part in an adorable video to show off your relationship for the first time, but it only lands you two in a clumsy mess. 
nsfw warning under the cut! 
18+…mainly just charles being a tit addict lol, oh and a bit of dry humping ahhah 
req!…quickie, but enjoy :) ps. we love a man who understandssss
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“Come on! Don’t be like that.”
It takes all of you to not roll your eyes at your needy boyfriend. He was excited to be back to racing after such a long time and this was just pure adrenaline, if you can even call it that. He had brought it up a few nights ago over dinner.
It’s been a year. Actually scratch that. A year and five months. Which is basically two if you stop and think about it.
Humming, you nod with less enthusiasm as he dangles his phone right in front of you, displaying cheesy couple videos. 
We can recreate it, people will know, and people will love you. Easy peasy.
But there was nothing easy about any of this. It had stayed a secret for so long for a reason - a perfectly reasonable reason. While you knew the good would most likely outweigh the bad, that didn’t make it less nerve wrecking.
With a heavy sigh, you roll off of his lap, chewing on your bottom lip. “I’m not sure, Charles. You know how I feel about all this. Plus, don’t you like knowing it's just you and me who know about us?” You signal between the two of you, eyebrows wiggling suggestively as he gulps.
“I do love having you to myself…”
“So it’s settled. Not yet.”
The next time he brings it up is when you’re out on a double date with George and Carmen, seeing as they spend a good amount of time here in Monaco. Could be nice, he says, blankly taking a lick from his vanilla ice cream. Would make me happy, y’know…
“I feel like I have to ask,” the Brit mumbles curiously. “Trouble in sex-paradise?”
Choking with surprise, you hurriedly shake your head as Carmen pinches her boyfriend's thigh. He yelps, scooting closer to the Monegasque who continues to pout. Rubbing your temples, you say, “Don’t pay him any attention, he doesn’t know what he’s saying.”
“Amore, it would be perfect!” Angling his head to the couple, he retreats his phone, already showing off the video. “Wouldn’t it be cute to announce our relationship like that?” Before they have a chance to answer, he nods happily, as if they’ve given him the biggest blessing. “It would, I know it would.”
“Reckon it’s a bit much,” George says while Carmen winces in agreement. Charles’ green eyes flicker to where you bite back a grin, writhing to let loose.
“You guys…”
Carmen pats his hand gently over the table. “Charles, just try and put yourself in her shoes. She’s worried. We’ve all been. Being in the public eye is extremely terrifying. Maybe she’s not ready-”
“Or she’s not that into you.”
The brunette clenches his jaw. “You’re not?”
Giggling, you peck his rosy cheek as he stubbornly gives in, a smile already being drawn onto his lips. “I’m so in love.” Then you turn to the Brit, kicking him sharply underneath the table. “Asshole.”
As he winces in pain, his girlfriend rubs his arm gingerly. “Oh, she’s definitely in love, Charles. But she’s not ready. Just wait on her for a tad bit longer.”
You’re honestly shocked when he doesn’t bring up the topic the time you visit his family, or when you meet up with Pierre and Kika. It was odd, but you didn’t think much of it. 
That is until he has you perched on his lap, greedy mouth wrapped around your sore buds. Large hands come in to grip your breasts, squeezing them closer to his face as he groans. You shiver when the cool air hits your wet skin. He smiles wickedly when you start rubbing yourself against his thigh, whimpers entering the room.
“You sound so sweet…”
You grip his shoulders tighter.
“Doing so good for me, yeah?”
You nod with soft pants and tired eyes.
“Do you love me?”
More than anything.
“Then you’ll do the video with me? You will, won’t you, darling?”
“Yes, yes,” you huff, core growing tighter. “Anything and everything you want.”
You can practically feel his smirk against your chest, but are too far gone to even care.
With one last lustful lick, he scoffs. “That’s my girl.”
-
“Okay, stand still,” he instructs, hands fixing his phone against the wooden chair. There's heavy concentration that lingers adorably as he gently bites down on his bottom lip, that it almost makes you regret how much you were dreading this. Balancing yourself on your tippy toes, you giggle nervously. Green eyes look back at you before pressing a kiss against your temple. “Shouldn’t be too hard. Just stand there and look pretty.”
“Because that’s all I’m good for,” you mumble sourly as he aims a deadpan expression. You know that’s not true. Then he presses the countdown and runs out of the frame, leaving you to stand like a lost puppy, soft eyes looking for their owner. Frowning hard at the camera, you sigh. “I really don’t get it-”
All of a sudden, strong arms wrap around your waist as he carries you in a hurry. You’re squealing loudly and shutting your eyes tightly. It leaves you winded as you slip into a coughing fit. Swiftly, the Monegasque places you back down and cradles your face with worried eyes. “Holy shit, are you okay?”
Pushing him away harshly, you shoot daggers at your boyfriend. “What the hell was that? You nearly killed me!”
The brunette winces. “I didn’t mean to do it that fast…” His shoulder droops with panic when you narrow your sharp eyes, chest heaving with slight anger. “Or that hard.”
You step away, frantic arms shooing him. “I’m out, this is stupid.”
“No, wait!” Following after you, he reaches to grab your hand. “I’ll be gentle this time. Let’s just try again.”
A skeptical scowl paints your face before nodding along. Dimples shine back towards you as he happily leads you back to the large kitchen. Slow, Charles. I mean it. Beaming brightly at the screen, you playfully search for him before you catch a glimpse of your clumsy manchild through your peripheral vision. You foolishly flinch as he makes his way and comes to an unexpected halt. He groans and you wail.
“Why did you stop?”
“Why do you look scared?”
Letting out a dry laugh, you bring your hands to your hips, right leg extending out like a strict teacher. “I was doing my part.”
“If looking scared was what you were going for, then mission accomplished.” He rubs his lids. “Try to pretend that you like me. The whole point is to show people that we’re in love.”
“Am I supposed to act like I like you or all lovey dovey? Which one is it?” you bicker back, hair whipping your cheekbones. He rolls his eyes. Stop acting like that, it’s not cute. “It’s not cute,” you mock as you return to your original spot. “Do not fuck this up, Charles.”
“Fine,” he grunts. Repeating the same actions, this time around he manages to trip over his own two feet, landing with a loud splat. The sound of his skin hitting the marble floor has you rolling with laughter and gasping for air. This is great, you wheeze, eyes crinkled. “It’s because I mopped earlier, remember? One last time.”
The Monegaque readies himself like a quarterback, dark eyes drawn to you like a hungry lion. You almost want to laugh with how serious he’s taking all of this, but somehow hold back. Once again, he makes his way on cue, arms wrapping around you securely and taking you down with him this time. 
Landing with a low umph, he holds onto you tightly, making sure to land on top of him safely as you yelp. Twisting up quickly, you bang a soft fist against his chest. “Dickhead! What are you doi- I’m not a fucking potatoe sack!”
The brunette manages to sit up, immediately going in to rub his head. Black spots blaze over his eyes. “I think I’m blind.” He pants, loopy eyes making a weak attempt to take in your delicate figure. “You still look like an angel, though.”
“That makes absolutely no sense.” You pause. “A-are you okay, baby?”
Brown locks bounce up lightly. With a heavy sigh, you help him up, leading him carefully towards the couch. Sore shoulders relax against the pillows. You bite down nervously on your thumb as you debate calling for help, given as how he hasn’t spoken much after the catastrophe. He hums. “I’m fine. Sit.”
“Oh, good,” you say, releasing out a breath of relief. As soon as he feels a dip next to him, he peeks one eye open, finding you with a pale face. A strong sense of protection takes over as he pushes your hair back, making sure to analyze everything about you. Why are you colorless? Did it hurt? Does anything hurt? We can go to the hospital to get you checked out. Actually, let's go.
He’s already grabbing your hand, flinging you to stand up when you let go. “I said I was okay. I’m just worried about you, that’s all. You took it the hardest, I swear I heard the sound of a coconut crack.” A teasing smile slips onto your berry lips, closed fist gently knocking against his head. “Only making sure.”
“Ha-ha.” Bringing you towards his chest, you nuzzle your face sweetly. “I tripped again-”
“I know,” you giggle, though it comes out slightly muffled, and slightly demonic. But it makes him grin eagerly, hand flying to smack your ass. You jump, feeling his chest vibrate as he chuckles. “This was an utter mess. How about we try again tomorrow?”
“How about we don’t?”
You pull away, hands pressing against his tall frame. “But I thought you wanted to do this…”
“I do, but you’re not ready.” A boyish wince strikes his face. “And I’m not going to force you.” You can’t help the swing your heart goes through with his sweet gesture. He continues. “I shouldn’t have asked you to do this in the first place; I knew you weren’t ready and I still tried. I’m sorry.”
Guilt eats you up with his words. “I swear I want to do this for you. I can try again!” Slithering out of his tight grip, you cluelessly look for his phone. He chuckles at your cute pout of determination. 
“But you’re not ready,” he states for the second time. “I’ll wait for you to be.”
The internet was a scary place - one you dread very much - but it’s true. You would have done this with him, even if you weren’t open to it. But the fact that he understood regardless…
Sheepishly marching your way over to the green eyed boy, you shoot a shy wink. “When I am…I’ll let you know?”
He grins, arms wide open as you find a home between them. “Of course.”
taglist: @myownwritings
*anyone is welcome to lmk and i'll add you along :)
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papercorgiworld · 2 months
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The better argument
Enzo, Mattheo, Theodore and Blaise
You flash your boyfriend to cut an argument short.
Warning: smut
Brought to you by this request. I hope you dears like it, happy readings! Feedback is always welcome. Have a lovely day!
Lorenzo
“You are not spending the day with Fred and George.” You groan at your boyfriend’s ridiculous jealousy. “Enz. Chill. It’s Fred and George.” Lorenzo raises his eyebrows and laughs in a mocking way. “It’s still guys.” Annoyed, you throw your book onto your bed and cross your arms. “You’re being jealous, Enzo.” He just huffs at your words and crosses his arms as well. “I can hang out with whoever I want.” He snorts at your words and you narrow your eyes at him. He rarely was this possessive and it was getting on your nerves. When he continues arguing you decide that enough is enough. “Darling, I think you’re being ridiculous.” He says and as he talks you reach for the edge of your top and watch him with cheeky eyes, waiting for the right moment. “I’m not jealous, I’m just looking out for-” You give him an interesting view for several seconds and then pull your shirt back down.
“Excuse me. What was that?” Enzo looks at you like you had just committed a crime. “What?” You ask, playing dumb and your boyfriend’s mouth drops. “Did you just flash me?” You bring your index finger to your lip and pretend to think it over. “Yeah, maybe.” Enzo looks almost annoyed with your attitude as he closes the distance between you two and towers over you in an intimidating way. “You can’t do that.” He says and for a moment you’re caught off guard by the sternness of his voice. “Now I need you.” His voice has a dark tone to it. “You can’t just give me something so… beautiful and then take it away from me.” You lick your bottom lip as his hungry eyes rest on your lips. “I’m spending Saturday with my friends.” You say and your boyfriend clenches his jaw, but nods. “Fine.” Enzo groans. “Now shirt off. Clothes off.” He demands as he takes off his own shirt, eyes dark and glued to you.
Mattheo
“No. Not happening.” Mattheo says and you laugh. “I didn’t ask you anything. I just said I’m having a girls night.” Your boyfriend lets himself fall into the chair by your desk, his arrogant composure watches you as you dry your freshly showered hair with a towel. “No, I know how those nights go, it's all gossip and trash talk about men. I don’t like it.” You huff and turn to him. “Are you worried that one night is gonna break us up?” Your question has Mattheo shrug and look away, embarrassed with his own insecurities. Not in the mood for being vulnerable, your boyfriend looks back at you with dead eyes. “You’re not going.” You sigh, but then a cheeky idea pops up in your head. “You’re not the boss of me, Matt.” You say taking a step closer to him. Hanging in your chair, legs spread and smug face, he watches you like he owns you. “(y/n). You are not going.” A devilish smile tugs on your lips as you untie your bathrobe and let it fall to the ground.
Like a magnet Mattheo gets pulled from the chair and in an instant he’s only inches away from you, hands tracing your naked body without touching you. “You were saying?” You tilt your head, acting innocent, but your eyes were all mischief. Annoyed with how drawn he is to you he clenches his jaw, dark eyes moving to meet yours. Sexual tension fills the room as Mattheo tries to resist you, while you know very well he will cave any second. “I’m having a girl’s night and you can either have this or continue arguing with me.” Your eyes dart mischief at Mattheo as you can feel your pussy throb, knowing what’s next. “You’re such a fucking brat.” Mattheo grabs the back of your head and pulls you into a rough kiss, before pushing your naked figure onto your bed, a soft whimper escaping your lips as sensations rush through your body. His hand hits your ass hard, instantly earning a moan from you, before he grips your hips harshly and pulls you back so your ass slams against his still clothed, hard cock. “If you wanna be spoiled then you have to be good for daddy.” He grinds against you and you whimper a soft yes, making him smirk. 
Theodore
“Are you sure it’s a good idea, I mean Potter isn’t that smart.” You laugh at Theodore’s obvious jealousy. “He is better than me at DADA.” You say, before returning to your mirror to apply your skin care. “I can tutor you.” Your boyfriend offers, taking a few steps towards you and looking over your shoulder into the mirror to meet your eyes. A gentle smile tugs on your lips as you apply the soft moisturising cream under your eyes. “You can’t tutor me, since you skip the majority of classes.” Theodore huffs. “I’m sure I’m still better than Potter.” You notice his eyes get a little darker and you’re getting really annoyed with how difficult he’s being about this silly subject. “Look I just think-” You were not gonna let this argument ruin your entire evening and decide to cut it short by dropping your towel. 
Theodore’s eyes stick to your naked body like they’re glued, only slowly moving from the image of your chest in the mirror to your ass in front of him. There’s a silence and you feel his heavy breath on your neck. He still doesn’t move as he struggles to keep a clear mind. “You aren’t playing fair.” He finally mutters as his hands rest on your hips, drawing soft circles as he takes a step closer, pressing his body against yours. Your hand reaches behind you and snakes around Theo’s neck as you let your head fall against his shoulder. “We’re not arguing about something so stupid.” You whisper with an unsteady breath as you watch Theo’s hand move in the mirror, slowly making its way to your thigh and between your legs. You shamelessly moan and you can feel Theo’s hard member press against your bare ass through the fabric of his pants. “Fine.” Your boyfriend growls into your ear, before turning you around to face him with one quick move and falling to his knees, hungry for you.
Blaise
“You want to do what?” You turn to your boyfriend lounging on your bed as you fold your clothes and tidy up your room. “I read this article that no sex means more focus during a game.” You frown. “That’s ridiculous.” Blaise chuckles. “I think it’s worth the try, slytherin can use the extra points.” You stare at him with your hand resting on your hips. “Yeah, still not happening!” Blaise laughs not realising how serious you are. “Sweetheart, you’re being silly. I think you should at least consider what I’m saying and do what’s best for the quidditch team. We can try it for one or two weeks.” Your mouth drops when he suggests two weeks of no sex, but he ignores your reaction and just continues. “This article-” 
Annoyed with your boyfriend you throw your top at him. Blaise sits up and swallows as his pupils dilate at the view. “Stupid article. Very stupid article.” He whispers with a husky voice. At his words a cheeky smile tugs on your lips and you make your way to him. “So you still think it’s such a good idea to bench your girlfriend?” Blaise shakes his head no and you go sit on his lap. “How about, we have sex every night of the week before a game and if you win you get a little reward.” Blaise peppers your shoulder with soft kisses and his gentle hand strokes your breasts. “Baby, as always your ideas are genius.” Blaise breathes out with a hungry tone before flipping you onto the bed.
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sugasiren · 8 months
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🧜🏾‍♀️ SIRENE (1009): Top 3 Sex Symbols! 💋
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SIREN: A seductively beautiful or charming woman, especially one who beguiles men; A woman who is a very attractive but dangerous temptress. 🔥🔥
The Sirene (1009) asteroid is one of my absolute favorites to explore. 🧜🏾‍♀️ And I have many! Its placement in a woman's chart tells us about her brand of Dark Femininity. How she seduces and influences. How she harnesses her power and the TYPES of men who are helplessly drawn to her. 💋 Every Sign has incredible qualities! I'm simply sharing my Top 3 Sirens based on the research I've done. So enjoy and share your Siren below!
**FYI - Men with these placements are also very sexy and captivating in their own way. 💯 So I will include some famous examples for them as well.
~♡~♡~♡~♡~
Siren in Scorpio 🔥
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Famous Women:
Sophia Loren (pictured above)
Sade (pictured above)
Lisa Bonet (pictured above)
Lana Del Rey (pictured above)
Dita Von Teese (pictured above)
Beyonce
SZA
Traci Lords
Monica Bellucci
Mae West
Grace Kelly
Bridget Bardot
Christina Aguilera
Angelica Houston
Zeudi Araya
Liv Tyler
Siren in Scorpio MEN:
The Rock
Brad Pitt
Paul Newman
Ryan Gosling
Carlos Santana
Idris Elba
Bruno Mars
Fabio
JFK
SCORPIO SIRENS lure you in with their hypnotic eyes that are as deep as the Blue Sea. 🧜🏾‍♀️ Their powerful aura will quickly swallow you whole and you will enjoy every moment of it. 💋 They effortlessly captivate and are explosive Lovers! They love to keep you guessing. As they know, you'll be addicted to the mystery of it all and keep coming back for more. And they're right! Just like Monica Bellucci and Lana Del Rey - these women can casually sit somewhere, smoking a cigarette, and *everyone* around them is watching in total ENVY of that damn cigarette. 🔥 Others like Lisa Bonet and Sade are gentle and ethereal but they will *still* snatch your SOUL. The Male Sirens are charismatic heartthrobs who make panties drop everywhere they roam. Women submit to them with glee. They want their 'Notebook' moment with Ryan Gosling, okay! And for The Rock to lay the smackdown (and pipe) on their kitty. 😺 And nothing less.
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Siren in Capricorn 👑
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Famous Women:
Brooke Shields (pictured above)
Megan Thee Stallion (pictured above)
January Jones (pictured above)
Stevie Nicks (pictured above)
Amal Clooney (pictured above)
Megan Fox (pictured above)
Teyana Taylor
Doja Cat
Mamie Van Doren
Ava Gardener
Mariah Carey
Shania Twain
Tyra Banks
Karrine Steffans
Amber Heard
Ellie Goulding
Eartha Kitt
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Siren in Capricorn MEN:
James Dean
Robert Plant
Robert Pattinson
Matthew McConaughey
William Holden
Prince William
Kobe Bryant
Suge Knight
Andrew Tate
AJ McLean
Gerard Butler
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CAPRICORN SIRENS lure you in with their deeply earthy, erotic energy. They are smoldering volcanoes underneath their cool IDGAF exterior and this enticing contrast drives people wild! 🔥 They have monstrous sex drives yet are very grounded in their personal power and selective about who they entertain, so others seek their approval. The Female Sirens often attract highly influential and/or dominant men who crave her submission and loyalty. Their desire to control her can truly consume them! 💯 They see her as the Ultimate Challenge and want her AT ALL COSTS. Their results vary depending upon what *she* actually wants. For instance, Amal Clooney. She was able to capture the heart of life-long bachelor George Clooney with impeccable ease. 🩷 He looks at her with stars in his eyes! They have the ideal marriage. Mariah Carey ultimately made Tommy Matola (the Record Executive who signed her to his label) wait until they were married before being intimate with him. She had such an effect on her ex-husband after **opening her luscious Pearly Gates** 🙌 that he put cameras up around the house to watch her every move. He was utterly obsessed with her! Amber Heard is an example of Capricorn Siren in full Destruction Mode. And Karrine "Superhead" Steffans in literal Maneater Mode slurping her way to THE TOP. The Male Sirens simply have Big Dick Energy - period. They are Doms, Bosses and Kings. 👑 Women yearn for them to (symbolically) suck their blood and their p***y like Robert Pattinson in 'Twilight' with carnivorous passion. 🔥 They want to surrender doggystyle to a man like Gerard Butler in the '300' movie. And even when they are stone cold killers like Suge Knight or manipulative pimps like Andrew Tate... they still command respect! They possess massive amounts of Masculine charm.
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Siren in Sagitarius 👠
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Famous Women:
Marilyn Monroe (pictured above)
Dorothy Dandridge (pictured above)
Rita Hayworth (pictured above)
Shakira (pictured above)
Indira Varma (pictured above)
Kim Cattrall
Margot Robbie
Robin Givens
Tina Turner
Dana Delaney
Emilia Clarke
Gwen Stefani
Aishwarya Rai
Rose McGowan
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Sagittarius Siren MEN:
Paul Walker
Patrick Swayze
Elvis Presley
Clark Gable
Mario Lopez
Marilyn Manson
Shia LaBeouf
Michele Marrone
Marvin Gaye
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SAGITTARIUS SIRENS lure you in like smoke rising from a bonfire in an enchanted forest during a Drum Circle. They illuminate dangerous levels of heat. ☀️ That will melt you like hot lava with their dynamic sex appeal. Baddies to the bone! Their esthetic widely appeals to the masses and individuals from *all* walks of life. People from *all* ethnic backgrounds admire and lust after them. 💋 They are exciting and make people feel ALIVE. And they're often the epitome of someone's Dream Girl or Guy. Marilyn Monroe is a FOREVER Icon who lives on generation after generation. 🌟 And her Feminine prowess remains unmatched no matter how much time goes by. Rita Hayworth is another immortal Sex Symbol and proud Latina. As is Dorothy Dandridge - who broke many barriers for Black Women in film and greatly appealed to a variety of powerful men such as Marlon Brando and Otto Priminger. Margot Robbie in the 'Wolf of Wallstreet' and 'Barbie' movies? 🩷 Nuff said! The Male Sirens are usually a strong yet suave bunch - like Clark Gable and Patrick Swayze. And that's a killer combination, my friends! They are often Rebels. 💪 Whether clean-cut ones like Paul Walker, goth ones like Marilyn Manson or rebels GONE WRONG like Shia LaBeouf. Either way, they are magnetic.
~♡~♡~♡~♡~
And that's a wrap for now! 💛 I'll be back soon with more on SIREN and other awesome asteroids. Thanks for reading.
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delacoursshp · 9 months
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you wanted me to explain, right? i'll explain.
fred weasley x fem reader- no use of y/n, reader is in gryffindor, both are of age
warnings: smut, 18+, doggy, hot steamy n roughhh, unconsensual consent, spitting, sort of blowjob
this is a short, straight to the point story 😭 but i hope y'all enjoy! @delacourss.hp
-
"fred!" you yelled frustratingly, "fred, come here this instance!"
fred anxiously hurried from the boys dorm room to the common room where you had been standing.
"wussthematta?" he replied half-asleep, eyes heavily lidded with one hand rubbing his eyes, and the other scratching his firey red head.
the common room was entirely dark, except for your lit wand, which was pointing to a piece of parchment on the floor. your nostrils were flaring as your widened eyes and frowned brows signaled fred to look at the paper.
"uuhh," as he slowly realized what he was looking at, "uh, wow, wicked thing to do really, innit?" he yawned, pretending to be so oblivious.
"fred, gideon, weasley." you spoke in a dangerous tone. fred looked up at you, looking as if he was about to be cruciated. you pointed your still-very-lit wand up at him, making his face whiter than before and his vision blurred.
the piece of parchment showed a talently drawn woman, her clothes shed off and her tongue out. the woman seemed to look an awful lot like you.
"do i even have to speak? it's YOU who should do the explaining, fred!" you said angrily.
fred sighed and let his arms fall limp to his sides, still partly blinded by your wand. "how are you even assuming it's mine? you've got no proof whatsoever!" he told defensively.
you scoffed, drawing your wand away for him, muttering something that lit up the whole common room and then picked up the piece of paper, which now had clearly shown strands of red hair covering the thighs of the woman.
"oh come off it, it could've been george or- or ron!"
you gifted him a look of disbelief. "alright, so tell me you didn't do it then." you spoke firmly.
fred groaned. he had this issue ever since he met you, the one where he just fully can't lie to you. he closed his eyes in defeat.
"aaaalright, it was me. congratulations, now may i continue dreaming about perce eating rotten pies? it was a quit enjoyable dream" he asked, simply, as if this was nothing.
you yanked him by his ear, faces now cm's away from eachother. "i do, NOT, tolerate this piece of filthy work!" you grunted. fred 'ouched' in response.
you let go of his now red ear, picked up the piece of paper, held it next to your head, and handed fred your wand.
you waited impatiently, as fred just looked confused.
"well?? do it!"
"aughh", fred just groaned dissapointedly, "expelliarmus!"
a shot of yellowish red light flew towards the parchment, and it dissapeared out of your hands, leaving a few white dots on the floor.
you sighed in relief. "wasn't so hard was it? now, i'm expecting an explanation, so i hope you prepared one whilst i was waiting."
"oh, come on. you must have some idea why." fred said, tone low and soft, glaring at you like you were some sort of prey, "don't act so innocent, love."
your expression changed. can it be? no, that would be weird. you guys are friends after all. fred smirked and playfully winked at you.
"don't be silly, fred." you had decided to say. "c'mon, it's late, let's head to bed before anyone sees us."
you were glad you chose to change topics, it was getting a little awkward, which it never usually is between you and fred.
fred followed you but before you could land your feet on the stairs, fred grabbed you by your hips.
"you wanted me to explain, right? i'll explain."
-
"oh fuck! oh yes!" the boy relentlessly pounded into you from behind. the force of his thrusts were beyond powerful."fredd- freddie! rightt.. fucking... there. ah!" you moaned. fuck, it felt so good you never wished for it to end.
"mhmmm, yeah? you like that huh, love?" fred shakingly spoke in your ear, sending you goosebumps, which only added to your incoming orgasm.
your back was flush with his chest, and you struggled to keep your legs still. he snaked his arm around your waist as he fucked into you, his other arm too occupied rubbing your little clit.
this sudden but slight change made you grasp his hair with your right hand, the other hand trying to push his pelvis away as the pleasure became overwhelming.
"mmh, don't push me away. you know you want this." he groaned.
"shit, shit, shit!" you kept gasping. the man showed no mercy, as he lifted one of your legs by your thigh, so he could be even deeper, if that was possible.
"too deep, freddie! too f-fucking deep!" you screamed. fred only chuckled at your helpless noises, feeling so proud of himself that he could get those sounds out of your pretty lips.
he sped up his merciless pace, skin-slapping noises lewdly contrasting against your high-pitched moans and freds deep grunts."yes! yes!" you kept whining, as he hit your g-spot over and over again. your eyes rolled back, and, for a moment, all your senses blacked out, and if it wasn't for freds strong grip on you, you would've fell.
"aah, fuck yeah." fred groaned, as he looked down to where you were connected to see a splash of white, sticky, hot liquid all over his and your pelvis.
he quickly pulled out, spinning you and immediately shoving you down on your knees.
your mind was still hazey as you were still coming down from your high. looking up at him, you saw him look back while roughly stroking his cock. finally understanding his gaze, you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out.
well fuck, this was just like the drawing.
"mm, keep looking at me like that, sweetheart." he said, in a strained voice. "i'm.. almost.." he moaned, "...there."
the sight infront of you was so delicious, you just had to do something about it. you licked his tip, kissed it and then spit on it.
fred seemed surprised, and stroked faster then ever, before shooting his load onto your tongue."ahaa, oh yeah.." he sighed.
you made sure, once his eyes opened, that he saw your semen covered tongue, and then you swallowed.
not even caring what it tasted like, but caring about how fred reacted, you giggled as you saw him smirk and raise his eyebrows as if he was impressed by your actions.
"you get it now, beautiful? was that a good enough explanation?" fred said, lifting you up by your arms, and carrying you to the gryffindor bathroom.
"mhm, that was a perfect explanation, fred."
.・゜-: ✧ :-  
aaaa! was this good?😭 goshh i hope so. gimme tips n stuff, i'd rlly appreciate it!! :)
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idkwhatimdoinghere1655 · 10 months
Text
Not Like Me - Lando Norris
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<word count - 893>
"Baby?" you heard from the upstairs as the front door was closed. 
"Up here!" you called back, waiting for Lando to walk through the door of your bedroom. 
"Why are you in bed already?" he asked, checking his watch as he came into the room and saw you, still in your pyjamas with the curtains closed and blinds drawn. "Didn't feel like getting up," you said, sinking further into the pillows. 
You hadn't been feeling like yourself recently, and sometimes you just needed to stay in bed in the dark to clear your head. Today, however, the darkness wasn't taking your hand and pulling you out of the slump you were in.
"Hey, you OK?" he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you. Lando placed his hand on your duvet-clad thigh and gently ran his fingers up and down the span of your thigh. "Yeah, just a bit tired. How was golf?" you asked, changing the subject. 
As much as you tried to deny it, Lando knew every one of your little diversion tactics, and he knew exactly how to get around them. "It was pretty good, Alex won and George was pretty dismal, but that might have been due to how we changed George's club so he was hitting it skew," he lightly giggled, hoping to put a smile on your face. 
You weakly smiled, trying to show that you were alright and you were trying to figure out ways to get him to leave you alone for another hour or two. It wasn't that you didn't appreciate him trying to help, but sometimes, you just wanted to be alone. 
"What have you been up to today?" he asked, the first attempt at getting around the diversions was slightly pressing questions. "Nothing much,  just watched a couple movies and stuff,"
"Do you want to come downstairs with me for a bit?" he asked, trying to get you out of the darkness for a bit. Maybe stretching your legs might do you some good, and Lando hoped it would lighten your mood a bit. 
"I'm alright, I think I'll stay here for a bit," you said, hoping he would get the hint and leave you for a little while. Lando sighed almost in defeat, but he had one more plan to get you to open up. Well, it wasn't a plan, it was just asking you straight up.
"Come on, what's wrong?" he asked as you rolled over in bed to face away from him. "I know something's up," he spoke, earning absolutely no response from you. 
"Look, you don't have to tell me, but it might help," you turned back around and just looked at him for a few moments. There was no denying that Lando knew you weren't feeling great, and he would do everything in his power to help you feel like a million dollars again. 
"I just-" you started, immediately doubling back on your words. "It's silly, it doesn't matter," you said, starting to turn back over for a third time. But, Lando braced his hand on your waist to stop you from rolling.
"Baby, if it's how you feel, then it could never be silly and it most certainly matters. It matters more than anything else in the world," he softly soothed, tangling his fingers in your hair and soothingly tickled you.
"I just don't feel like... Me. And I don't know why," you groaned, leaning more into his touch as it made good vibrations ripple through your brain. "You don't need to know why you feel the way you do. They're your feelings, they don't need a reason," he explained, and the pieces were clicking in your brain.
"I just don't know how to get back to feeling like my normal self," you complained, wanting to be like yourself again. "Give it some time, darling. These things take time, and you can talk to me at any time about anything if you think it will help," he smiled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 
"I love you, Lando," you said, appreciating what he was doing for you. Sometimes, you felt bad for putting your problems onto him, but he always dismissed your apologies. "I love you too, Y/N. Is there anything I can do?" he asked.
"Can you cuddle me?" you batted your eyelashes at him as if there was a possibility that he'd say no, but it just added to the scene. "Of course," he smirked, rounding the foot of the bed and you felt the mattress dip behind you. 
Rolling over, you saw a few of Lando's curls had fallen over his eyes as he flicked them out of the way. "C'mere," he mumbled, pulling you as close to him as possible. Your legs tangled together as he wrapped his arms around your torso and held you tight. 
 "You're brilliant," you yawned, already feeling tired even after you had spent the whole day in bed. You tucked your head into the crook of his neck as one of his hands gently trailed up and down your spine. 
"I try," he quietly laughed in your ear, his lips ghosting over it. As you drifted off to sleep to the sound of Lando's soft breathing, it already felt like a part of you was returning, and maybe the darkness had been reaching out for you all along.
|masterlist|
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itsvelyria · 4 months
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"as sad taylor swift songs"
vvv vague references to depression for danny
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(not really a representation of the songs as a whole but rather how i interpret each phrase i cherry picked)
Charles Leclerc
and say the one thing, i've been wanting, but no~ 🩵
your phone lights up the dark of your room, you should be asleep at this time of the night. there hadn't been any new messages since Tuesday but here you sat, scrolling aimlessly on social media, waiting by the chat like you were 13 again with your first crush. the squeal of glee and the uncontrollable smile on your face when they would text back — that's how he made you feel. and though the little voice in your head is telling you that everything was wrong, there was no way you would debase your feelings to refute the way your brain was wired to think of him at all times. but as you were flicking through gossip sites, the back of a head that haunted your dreams and nightmares was staring right back at, pressed up against a shorter brunette one — maybe it was time to listen to your brain and not your heart.
Carlos Sainz
tryna find a part of me that you didn't touch~ 🩷
every inch of your skin was on fire, like it was rejecting the touch of the man above you. if you squinted enough, blocked out the light from the living room behind his broad shoulders, you could have mistaken him for a certain Spaniard. except the Spaniard wouldn't have chosen to lay his focus on your neck like this guy you picked up at the club. you couldn't, for the life of your alcohol-riddled brain, recall his name. but you could remember the ghost of a touch down between the valleys of your breasts and that was enough to pry a spine-shivering moan out your throat. maybe if you pretended enough and swallowed the hot tears back, you could pretend he was the person you wanted instead.
Danny Ricciardo
she would have made such a lovely bride, what a shame she's fucked in the head~ 🧡
he knew it when your frame had started curled in on itself under the covers. how you brushed past the stereo you loved to fiddle with on Saturday mornings. how you told him that you'd rather stay home on days you had plans. he felt this clawing in his insides whenever you barely spared him a glance, like he was the extra on a film set who was just waiting around for something to happen. so he did what he did best. he'd called up your mom to ask for her recipes to cook for nights you were too tired to move and offered to dry your hair whenever you wandered around wet hair. when you were fast asleep, cuddled up in his arms, he hoped you could hear when he told you how much he loved you and how he'd always be here.
George Russell
will you still want me, when i'm nothing new~ ❤️
even with your eyes closed on the red-eye flight, you could picture your colour-coded and meticulously organised calendar in your head. that and the thousands of messages from your mother, disappointment reeking from them at your missing of your nephew's baby shower. he was 1, he'd get over it. amongst the messages was two calls to your boyfriend, both left unanswered. the silence feeling like a prelude to something inevitable. images of him laughing with a colleague, your calls ignored, flashed in your mind. the little seed of self-doubt had planted itself a long time ago and bloomed into a voice in your head, relentlessly questioning your every move, every word. you hated it, but when the fire you started grows uncontrollably and you can't stop it, what could you do but let it consume you whole?
Lando Norris
no one could touch the way we laughed in the dark~ 💛
it was like a bad smell you couldn't ignore, the second you stepped onto the hiking path. you refused to come but was convinced otherwise by your group of friends. and with each crunch of the wet leaves under your boot or the distant sound of rushing water, you saw faint wisps of smoke in the shape of someone drawn from your ancient memories, holding your hand and leading you up the slope. hallucinations of a familiar laugh clouded your mind with the hike passing like a daze. the waterfall was still as beautiful as you remembered with the tree where he had secretly carved both your initials just a few steps away. your boyfriend pulled you closer, breaking your trance. his grin radiating at you, you felt the old memories slip away back into the shadows, cupping the chin of your new love.
Lewis Hamilton
you gave me all your love and all i gave you was goodbye~ 💜
sometimes when he glanced at old pictures, the indifference in his chest made him feel like he had moved on. and it should. with every second that slipped out of his grasp, the pain in his heart had dulled and he was busy enough without having to schedule mourning into his calendar. but the glare of his phone burned the picture into his retinas while he was waiting for his next race to begin, he missed the pang in his chest when you first ended the relationship. it was almost like he was losing every shred of you and the ugly feeling in his head raged on. and the next moment, he would turn the phone off, throwing it across his room to bury his head in his palms, the anger redirecting on the pathetic little boy inside him. he should have moved on by now, he knows he should have, but as he glanced at all the faces in the stands, part of him wishes one of them was you.
Max Verstappen
then you won't have to cry, or hide in the closet~ 🩶
you can see it in the darkening of his eyes when he answered his calls. or how his lips pulled taunt after a bad race. he had mentioned some things in passing: details of his childhood glossed over like it was nothing more than a dusty spine of a long-forgotten book. coupled with stories from his family, you had pieced together enough of the puzzle he kept his past. and that tugging in your heart wasn't pity; you could never pity him. but you weren't sure what it was either. and so you kept it quiet, tucking it away in a box, focused on the one thing that did matter — his present. maybe one day, you'll take the box out and rifle through its contents with your lover, but for now, just seeing him hold that trophy was more than enough.
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g1rld1ary · 3 months
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bloody genius ; anthony lockwood x fem!reader
➻ rushed to get this out before I go out tonight (wish me luck lols) but am pretty fond of it !!
➻ word count: 1686
➻ synopsis: after a long night of sifting through research for an impossible case with lockwood, you do something you didn't quite mean to
➻ warnings: light mentions of series typical murder/violence, kissing, idiots in love
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You groaned, tipping back in your chair and rubbing your eyes, trying to make them see straight. You and Lockwood had been pouring over photocopied newspaper articles, floor plans and assorted research for hours and you weren’t getting any closer to stringing any of it together. With Lockwood & Co steadily improving their reputation, the company was getting more and more cases with shorter and shorter timeframes. To combat this influx of cases and the consequent research that needed completing, you’d all decided to split the load where possible. This meant that currently George and Lucy were in the library researching one case whilst you and Lockwood had shut yourselves in the kitchen to struggle through another.
You supposed you had the better deal, though, supplied with easy access to tea, the thinking cloth, and, of course, Lockwood. He was your secret favourite out of your coworkers-turned-family, though if you asked Lucy she’d say it was no secret at all. Regardless, that brought you to the current moment where the thinking cloth was filled with nonsensical lines following trains of thought, all edges punctuated with a frankly ridiculous number of question marks.
Lockwood himself looked almost as frustrated as you felt, but you could tell he was trying to hide it and save face. He caught you staring and flashed a smile, but it lacked its usual charm when his eye bags were more pronounced than usual.
“Hey,” He said softly, putting his hand over yours to stop you drawing stress doodles — the latest one a crudely drawn murder scene, “We’ll get it soon, just gotta find the connection between it all.”
“Sure, Lockwood.” You tried for a smile but it came out as more of a grimace and Lockwood could see the exhaustion etched into your features. He frowned, more concerned for your wellbeing than the case at the moment.
“Maybe you’ve done enough for tonight? Go get some sleep and we can pick back up in the morning?”
“Are you going to go to bed?” You asked, already sure of the answer, “I’m not leaving you to do this on your own, not this time.” He opened his mouth to argue but you shut him up with a glare. He held up his hands in light-hearted surrender. As an alternative Lockwood suggested a break; only a few minutes, but enough for you to make two new mugs of steaming tea and him to crack open a new packet of biscuits. “I’ll even let you break the biscuit rule,” He stage whispered, ducking out of the kitchen to check on Lucy and George and refill their own stash of snacks.
You watched him go, smiling softly. You loved evenings like this — well not like this where trains of thought didn’t quite make it to the station and you had the infuriating feeling of knowledge being held just out of reach, but nights where you were all home and together. You liked them even more when it meant you got to spend time with Lockwood and he got like this; treating you just a little bit differently to George or Lucy, offering you extra biscuits and giving you that soft smile, the one that made your heart flutter in a way it probably shouldn’t when looking at your boss. It fed your delusions of one day telling him how you feel, sure, but the lightness of his attention overpowered the inevitable heartbreak you’d face when he got a date that wasn’t you.
He returned with a confident grin, snapping you out of your stupor. You buried yourself in a new file, scanning for anything that could make sense of the mess of a case you were given. Maybe a Type Two, could be a poltergeist or not, who knows who the ghost was — the whole thing was ridiculous and you had no idea why Lockwood would even take it, but he said he felt sorry for the poor old man who came to the doorstep of 35 Portland Row. The both of you sat in comfortable silence for what felt like hours, knee-deep in paper.
Your eyes were glazing in and out of focus until you caught a snippet of something that had you gasping and tumbling out of your chair, standing frenetically in front of Lockwood looking ready to perform.
“What if I told you,” You said grinning, “That your dear old man had a sealed criminal record until a few years ago? For being a suspect in a murder case no less!” Lockwood was solely focused on you now, dark eyes searching your face for more information. You were no less enthusiastic, eyes scanning the police report quickly for the relevant information. “He was a suspect in the murder of a Charlotte Black back in the 50s. Her sister alleged that the two were involved but the police found no evidence of his involvement, nor of their relationship at all, with the exception of two letters the sister sent during the time of the investigation. Officers on the case said his apartment was ‘severely lacking a female touch’ — ouch — and said to them he was definitely not in a relationship. The record was sealed because the allegations had a dire impact on his accounting firm!” You were buzzing despite the grim subject matter, as you’d finally found the link that could tie the case together.
Lockwood was similarly ecstatic. “Obviously the relationship had to be a secret for whatever reason which was why there’s no marriage certificate or record of letters between them. The letter I was looking at before must’ve been from this sister, it detailed her desire for independence and her interest in his business. She found out about his shady numbers—” He jumped up to grab a letter of complaint over botched figures from a client, “He got mad and killed her! Y/n you’re a bloody genius!” You flushed at the compliment.
“And she’s here now because he’s coming out of retirement, he bragged about it when you were hearing his case! God, it would just be great if we had, like, one more piece of evidence, just to confirm they knew each other,” You sighed, clenching your fingers at the single hole in the puzzle.
The door opened suddenly and George appeared, holding a small folded piece of paper.
“I think this might be from your case, not ours — odd looking couple,” George said, popping the photo on the edge of the dining table, giving a quizzical look at the two of you standing in the middle of the kitchen before heading back to the library. You and Lockwood exchanged a look, almost too scared to take a peek, it was too perfect. You grabbed the photo of Charlotte Black her sister had attached to the letter, plus the one of the man that you’d found in a local newspaper in the archives and laid them both out on the table for comparison.
Lockwood sucked in a nervous breath before slowly peeling open the photo. You couldn’t contain your joy, it was them! The whole night was suddenly worth it, the two of you jumping around the kitchen like little kids on Christmas. One second you were doing a stupid victory dance and the next your lips had pressed themselves to Lockwood’s. The moment you’d become cognisant of what had happened you stepped back, feeling your heart plummet to your toes. This was not how you’d imagined that would happen. Plus, Lockwood’s unusually stoic face was igniting your anxiety, cold spreading through every branch of your veins.
“Oh my God,” You breathed, willing your legs to work, “I am so sorry, Anthony.” Your body caught up to your brain and you headed to the door until you were pulled back, a hand on your waist twisting you to face him again. And then his lips were on yours with purpose this time, the hand not on your waist finding its way to cup your jaw. When your brain was done short circuiting you matched his fervour tenfold, bringing your hands up to rest on his chest, gripping the collar of his shirt to bring him impossibly closer.
You only pulled away when you were at genuine risk of passing out, unable to conjure a single word. Lockwood gazed at you with glossy, blown out pupils. That, mixed with the pink blush on his cheeks and swollen lips created your favourite ever version of Anthony Lockwood — an image you hoped would be privately yours from now on.
“So, is this where I ask to take you on a proper date, love?” He asked, his smile melting your heart into a puddle in his hand. You couldn’t let him have all the fun, though, and willed yourself to produce a teasing grin.
“Seems appropriate, doesn’t it?” Your eyes strayed to the clock on the wall that showed an inappropriately early hour of the morning, “I think we both ought to get some sleep, tomorrow’ll be a big job. Goodnight, Anthony.” You punctuated it with a soft kiss to his cheek before slipping out of the room to silently scream as you bound up the stairs, victory dance making a reappearance behind your safely closed door.
Anthony was left standing in the kitchen like a fool, hand sitting softly where you’d kissed him. A lovesick smile passed his face, thoughts of the impending case long gone from his brain, and in their place sat pictures of you and a looping memory of you slotting your lips between his. He wasn’t sure how long he was standing there basking in your light, but Lucy walked past to drop her mug in the sink, shooting Lockwood a knowing look before heading up to the attic. Lockwood found himself giggling uncharacteristically, giddy with the glee of finally telling you how he’d felt since you first walked through the door of 35 Portland Row.
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pensbridge · 2 months
Text
Master Post Bridgerton Live Event Season 3
Let me just say so much of what they said leans into exactly how I pictured it.
○ Some words to describe the season: Shonda-"intimate" / Jess B-"confidence" / Luke Newts-"unexpected" / Nicola-"romantic" / Luke Thom-"zoom in"
○ They talk about Colin's words last season and say it was a good place to start in the story/journey; confirm apology will come
○ Pen has 1 main suitor besides Colin who takes a real interest in her (Spoiler: it's Lord Debling)
○ Julia Quinn said it is a good friends to lovers story. She sounded so excited!
○ Someone (either Shonda, Julia or Jess) said they have some good awkward banter.
○ Julia Quinn really confirmed the Colin-Pen hand scene (1st real emotional and physically intimate scene for them)
○ How Jess B talks about Colin (again) gives me hope for his personal journey-mentioned about the 3rd son "not knowing his place in the world" & more
○ Protective El of Colin confirmed (we get El and Colin scenes), but she still loves Pen; Luke N. called it a non-romantic love triangle between the 3
○ Benedict takes roles of Anthony; he can fall into different roles very well, but who is he and what does he want?
○ Will and Alice acquire a new title this season; Martins talked about how they are "drawn out of the shadows"
○ Adjoa talked about how Lord Ledger affected her; called that romance "life-changing"; QCABS enriched Lady Danbury story coming into season 3
○ Lady D. personal journey-she's "shook" at an arrival that happens 👀
○ Golda-How do you do private intimacy in the view of the public (George and QC)? / she loves the Brimsley relationship
○ When talking about QC picking the diamond of the season said she's bored of what's going on and is "searching for something different"
○ [Other tidbit-they're hosting a Bridgerton wedding for a lucky real-life couple.]
○ Shonda quote about Bridgerton always "finding a way to give female characters agency" and Pen has a good way of coming into this in this season
○ Nicola-"so much happens" in their story
○ They talked about how the show has changed their lives-Claudia said she always walks away proud of what she's done and essentially there's not one part of the job she's unsatisfied with. aww; Adjoa said "a space for everyone"
○ Season 3 is "for the wallflowers"- Adjoa [they mentioned this a lot; the interaction on this between Adjoa and Nicola just made it seem like there is Lady Danbury-Pen relationship]
○ Nic and Newts recreated the pic in the mirror with candle stick!! what?! / They also watch fan edits and send them to each other
○ Easter egg in almost every episode according to Jess B. and they are "raising the bar on visuals"- "even brighter and more spectacular than ever"
○ Superlatives: most like character-Luke Newton; least-Golda; most bloopers-Johnny Bailey or Claudia (and I think she was offended at first, lol)
○ Chaos in Featherington fam because Pen steps out (Portia doesn't like when Pen changes from her citrus dresses)
○ Nicola "didn't expect to be as emotional as it was" from the first 2 episode screening
○ Adjoa said things will make you laugh then quickly after cry
○ Claudia said people make mistakes and people fall..., etc.
○ Theme: "Find your light." -Jess B.
○ The line in QCABS "We are untold stories" is what this season is about
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cockslutpadalecki · 1 year
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Come Around Sundown
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Summary: What happens at Christmas is never just a one time thing, and when summer break rolls around, you find yourself repeating past mistakes. Or is it a mistake?
Characters: Tattooed!DBF!Steve x F!Reader.
Words: 2.3K.
Warnings: age gap relationship, use of pet name (little mouse), explicit sexual content, mention of previous sexual encounter (oral sex— fem receiving), reader is in her 20s, Steve being covered in tattoos, female masturbation, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it kids), cream pie, 18+. MINORS DNI.
A/N: Inspired solely of the manip of Chris used above in the header which I promptly lost my shit at. It’s all thanks to @sweeterthanthis​ 💖 And thanks to @randomagnes0210​ for creating the best manip ever. Beta: @princessmisery666​ but all the general bullshit is entirely mine. While likes are gold, feedback is golden. Please support our content creators by sharing our work.
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“Hey Little Mouse,” a familiar voice teases from beside you, “almost didn’t see you sneakin’ around there.”
You flash a small smile at your dad’s best friend, Steve, hating how forced it feels pinching at your lips, hoping he can’t see the strain of it in your cheeks. Your gut twists, warming at the sound of the deep gravelled baritone. You’ve loved the nickname ever since he coined it for you, but right up until six months ago, it’s since evolved into a point of reluctant appetency when it comes hand in hand with the man who gave it meaning. 
A sweet, playful name that used to symbolise your meek and quiet nature. Now it represents something far more licentious, and you can tell by the way the epithet leaves his lips that he’s aroused by the association. 
The attractive woman standing alongside him gives you a clipped grin, not really knowing how to react to the exchange between you. Her presence sets you on edge, and you almost feel like he’s brought her here just to fuck with you. 
Well, it’s working. 
Trying to create some distance, you wander over to the kitchen island. Your gaze travels over the bottles of your parents’ alcohol collection, and knowing which to avoid after replacing most of them with water a long time ago, you smile to yourself.
The first time you tried the vodka with your best friend Trini, you were both violently sick the morning after. And the headache lasted for what felt like days. 
“Something funny, Little Mouse?” Steve asks curiously.
Finally glancing up, your eyes catch purest sapphire. The smirk on his lips makes warmth pool in the cradle of your pelvis. Deep-seated heat that could— can— easily bring you to your knees. You try to keep his stare, but your eyes are drawn to the open v of his shirt, showing off his tattooed covered chest.
“Why’d you call her little mouse?” The brunette tersely pipes up between you. Like she’s pissed off you have a nickname and she doesn’t. 
Steve finally looks towards his date. “This is George’s kid,” he explains like he’s talking to a five year old. She nods as if she knows who George is, but you can tell she doesn’t from the befuddled expression on her beyond pretty face. “She used to be such a shy little thing.” He glances back at you, lips threatening a fresh yet menacing smile.
Used to. 
She seems to accept the explanation without the need for more depth. You’re grateful. You don’t want her knowing the reason you’re no longer shy, or how Steve is privy to such private information. 
“Wasn’t sure if you’d be here,” he continues softly, ignoring his date. “Your folks sure missed you over spring break. I know I did.” The way he stares you down both unnerves and arouses you.
“I had too much studying to do,” comes your clipped reply.
He narrows his eyes at that, completely unconvinced by the lie, but you remain stoic. He doesn’t have to know that you spent spring break with your roommate and her friends, or that the real reason you didn’t want to be here was because you knew he would be.
It’s hard to avoid Steve at the best of times, however since the incident at Christmas, he seems to be around more than usual. 
His existence is a constant reminder of what it felt like to have his face buried between your thighs— his beard both scratchy and comforting as his tongue lapped at you, humming against your clit.
The warmth in your gut starts to stir as he moves around the island, coming to face you over the sea of bottles. You try to keep his gaze, but you’re distracted by the sight of his thick fingers gliding over the polished marble. And it conjures up the memory of all the time he spent tracing delicate patterns across your skin, like he was painting a plethora of invisible tattoos to match the everlasting artwork adorning his. 
“Uh, this tastes disgusting,” Steve’s date suddenly spits, effectively ending your daydream. You look towards her a little confused until you spot the open bottle of vodka in front of her and have to stifle a giggle. 
”I’m so sorry, let me get rid of that,” you mumble. “Must have gone off.” You take the bottle away from her with an overly faux grin, thankful to be given an excuse to get away from Steve.
-
You manage to avoid Steve for the majority of the afternoon and late into evening just as the crickets start to sing. You’re grateful for your parents seemingly inviting half the neighborhood, making it easy to blend in and hide when you need to, but after a while you get curious, wondering if he’s still around.
You search the house, your hopes slowly dwindling as you go from room to room without any sign of him. Your heart sinks at the possibility that he left hours ago with his date, no doubt showing her just how talented he is with his tongue. Envy nips at your heels, threatening to discolor your thoughts when you finally spot him in the garden, laying on one of the sun loungers. 
He stares mindlessly up into the darkening sky that swallows up the fringes of pinks and reds painting the western horizon. Every few minutes or so, he brings a bottle of beer to his mouth and you find yourself daydreaming about how it would taste to lick the alcohol right off his lips. 
“Hey honey, you alright out here? It’s gettin’ a little cold,” your dad’s sudden voice says from behind you. You turn, giving him a small smile as he rubs his hands up and down your bare arms, no doubt feeling the flourish of goose flesh prickling up over your skin. “Want me to fetch you a jacket?” 
“I’m fine,” you return softly. 
“Okay,” he leans in, giving your hair a kiss, “we’ll be inside.” Dad squeezes your arm gently before letting go and disappears back into the house. This should be your sign to follow him, but your feet are firmly planted to the floor. 
Before you know it, your feet are moving— but not in the direction of the house. Maybe it’s the few vodka sodas that’s giving you the liquid courage to approach him, or perhaps, deep down, you want his attention. 
Eventually you reach him, pausing briefly as Steve looks up at you. As he silently returns his gaze to the ground, you step around the sun lounger beside him and smooth out the skirt of your dress before taking a seat. 
“Where’d your friend go?” you ask softly. 
Steve sighs a little. “She left.” He doesn’t sound particularly upset by the notion. 
“Oh.” 
“Don’t think she liked you very much,” Steve chuckles, taking another swig of beer as he stares up at the dusky sky. 
Your brow furrows. “Why?” 
“Kept making snide comments about you whenever she could,” he shrugs. “I told her to go if she was gonna spend the night insulting you.”
Your heart constricts in your chest at that and sudden guilt pulls at you. You’ve been cold towards him all evening, and he’s been nothing but courteous, even going as far as defending you against his best chance to get laid tonight. 
“Thank you,” you squeak. Just like a mouse. 
He turns his head to face you— a gentle tender look that sets your skin ablaze, and smiles softly. “No need.”
Returning it, you remain with your eyes locked until you feel a familiar warmth creeping up your back. You shift against the sun lounger uncomfortably before hurrying to stand. Brushing out the creases in your skirt, you’re desperate to give your hands something to do, besides grab hold of Steve and kiss him again. 
You turn to leave, but the rapid way in which Steve moves to a sitting position, combined with the feel of his fingers around your wrist stops you in your tracks. Your stomach twists when your eyes catch his once more. 
“Stay,” he asks of you. You’re distracted temporarily as he places down the empty beer bottle between his spread legs.
“I shouldn’t,” you reply when he glances back up.
“Why not?”
“Don’t you remember what happened the last time we ended up alone together?”
Without warning, he tugs on your wrist, and pulls you onto his lap, whispering with a deep husk, “Of course I do.”
You swallow deeply before quickly turning around to make sure nobody can see you in such a compromising position. You’re so far away from the house that the spotlights don’t reach this distance, the blanket of night slowly swallowing you as the sun sets. 
“Look at me.” 
You obey without a word.
“I think about it every fuckin’ day,” he admits quietly, letting go of your wrist and drapes his heavily tattooed hand across your bare thigh. His other hand slides around to the nape of your neck, pulling you in closer. “I never wanna wash the taste of you off my tongue.”
Your breath hitches in your throat, and unconsciously, you roll your hips, grinding down hard into his crotch. Steve hisses through gritted teeth as you do so, his grip tightening around your neck and thigh. 
“Shouldn’t do that.”
“Why not?” you tease, bearing down even harder as heat blooms beneath your cheeks with delight. You feel Steve react, pushing back against you as the bulge of his cock brushes your clothed sex.
“Because I’m this close to pullin’ your panties to the side and makin’ you ride me for real.” His lips brush yours and you let out a squeak. “There’s my little mouse,” he adds with a chuckle, finally pressing a kiss to your mouth. He tastes of whiskey and bad decisions, but you’re addicted.
You curse under your breath when he pulls away, his hand climbing higher up your thigh until it disappears beneath your dress entirely. His fingers tease the edge of your underwear, hooking them under the material to caress your skin as his thumb glides over the top of the fabric, spreading your folds apart. When he reaches your clit, you moan into his open mouth, quietly begging him to “do it.”
Steve tugs your panties to one side and sinks his fingers into your velvety heat— one at first, then two. With whispered praise and encouragement, he manages to stretch you out to three— gaping and dripping all over his fancy dress pants. You’re on the cusp of coming when he snatches his fingers away and wraps his arms around you, pulling you with him as he lays back on the chair, knees propped up behind you.  
There’s a quick scramble as he fingers open his zipper, and you feel his thick veiny cock spring up between your thighs. And even though dusk has fallen, and he’s nothing more than a hazy shadow beneath you, you’ve never been able to see him more clearly. 
You work in sync, your bodies in tune as he coaxes you, with a hand under your ass, to lift yourself up. He drags the tip of his cock through your puffy folds— up and down, up and down— until you’re pushing against his hand, desperate to feel him inside you. He laughs gently through the darkness— a low echoing chuckle which slowly morphs into a groan as he finally allows you to get what you want. He slips into you with ease, your greedy wetness swallowing him inch by eager inch until he’s buried up to the root. 
You sit motionless for a moment, enjoying the feel of him swelling and twitching inside you, but impatience takes over quickly and you begin to rock back and forth. Steve plants his hands on your hips, helping to guide you back down onto his cock when you rise up. You place yours on his chest, and hard steel melts beneath your touch. Slowly you ride him, wanting to feel every ridge and imperfection in his cock perfectly fill you to your limit. 
You can tell he likes it. The muffled moans and under the breath expletives keep you in the moment, feeling pride swell thick in your chest. One of his hands moves from your hips to your neck, he pulls you roughly in to meet his lips with yours while he continues to groan against your tongue. 
“Fuck, you have no clue what you do to me,” Steve mutters between kisses as you lift your hips, letting his cock slip out to your entrance.
“I think I have a pretty good idea.” You sink back down on him and the word, “fuck,” is sudden and hot on your cheek.
Steve soon takes over— fucking you long and slow, hard and fast— until your gut is tightening to the point where you’re not sure you can hold it anymore. Every thrust of his hips sends you careening further and further towards euphoria, and then you’re shattering into a thousand rapturous pieces. 
-
Your thighs still damp, you slink back inside the house. Steve is close behind, his hand hovering over the small of your back. You want his touch back on your skin— crave it like a high, but you know that you’ll only be able to take a hit in secret. As you enter the lounge, he hangs back, waiting a beat before following you in. 
“Oh, there you are,” Dad laughs when he spots you. “We were about to send for a search party.”
Steve perches on the arm of the couch before leaning forward to scoop some dip onto his index finger. The same finger that had been inside you. 
“Sorry, we lost track of time,” he replies, sucking the dip from his finger just as your eyes meet. “Me and Little Mouse were too busy catchin’ up.”
***
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live-laugh-lenney · 2 months
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Love love the arthur lingerie fic. What about george version
i've been waiting for this to come in simply so i could write something smutty for george... CONTAINS MATURE CONTENT.
george is a sucker for lingerie.
granted; he'd always tell her that she could wear a stained, faded and ratty-looking t-shirt, with holes in the armpits, and he would still find her to be the most beautiful woman in the world.
in the beginning few months of seeing one another, finding out what each others turn ons were, their love-making started off sweet and soft and they would always plan ahead and it would happen in the most sensual way... like it was something written in a romance novel.
yn would always present herself nicely. she would dress nice, she would spray her perfume on her neck, she made sure she had matching underwear on (that didn't have holes in or elastic hanging loose from the waistband). he always made sure he had a clean room with clean bedsheets on his bed, a candle burning to give the room a relaxing feel and a lovely smell and that everything was within arms distance so he didn't have to leave the bed.
but now?
a year and a half into their relationship, having sex was never made into a big deal. not much anymore. the nights they spent together were spent being lazy on the sofa in her flat (because he was always surrounded by the two arthurs and chris and neither of them could have privacy with them around), eating meals from their take-out, binge-watching a television show that they were in the middle of watching.
their 'motto' being if it happens then it happens.
but every now and then, to keep their love and their romance alive, they would have a night dedicated to them. birthdays were always guaranteed, anniversaries always ended up with them in bed, but on the nights when they just wanted to feel close to one another, she would always surprise him by wearing a new set of lingerie...
she's fresh from the shower.
having given herself an 'everything shower' - she washed her hair, she deeply scrubbed her face, she shaved her legs and exfoliated her skin so she was soft to the touch, she got rid of every inch of body hair she could find and managed to do so without nicking any of her skin - she changed into the new set of lingerie once she was completely dried off, letting the lace perfectly cup her breasts and sitting low on her pubic bone, knowing that she had an eager george waiting for her on the other side of the door.
she gave him the task of making the room feel ready and that is just what he did; he lit their wax-burners and put in a relaxing scent so it emitted smells so relaxing and soft, the flickering of the flames being enough light to fill the room, curtains drawn shut and he'd even gone as far as scattering rose petals upon the bed to show the romantic side to him.
she opens the door, the bathroom light flooding into the room for just a moment, sliding her finger down the switch and turning off the light and closing the door behind her, exposed to his wandering eyes and she can already feel her cheeks heating up.
"i can feel you staring."
"can you blame me?" he questions her, looking from his phone screen and making eye contact with her as she stood in the middle of the room, locking the gadget in his hand and placing it down on the table by his bedside, "you're so gorgeous."
she takes in his appearance; stretched out down the bed with tousled hair that he hadn't really dealt much with that day, a fringe almost forming from how he hadn't styled his hair like normal, his facial hair looking a lot more desirable to her than normal, wearing nothing but a deep teal t-shirt and a pair of boxer shorts that peeked out from the hem of his tee, no socks on his feet (because he'd worn her slippers all day and refused to take them off), his ankles crossed at the end of the bed.
he takes in her appearance; a lilac-coloured, made from lace, lingerie set on her figure with her hair still damp but not completely sodden with water, painting her skin with droplets of water that glistened in the light of the candles flickering. and she smelt delicious and she looked fresh, a nervous smile on her lips as she looked at him.
"is this all for me?"
he smirks at his own question because he already knows the answer; her coming out in matching underwear was almost a given when they chose to switch off from the outside world and spend all evening in bed.
"you know it's for you, idiot."
"don't speak to me like that, baby."
she rolls her eyes playfully and he pushes himself up on the bed, the pillow squishing between his back and the headboard of the bed behind him, duvet scrunching up with his movements and she takes that as her moment to walk towards him. and he watches every step she takes towards him, every sway of her hips, and he couldn't take his eyes away from the way the swell of her breasts bounced every so slightly with the motion.
instead of clambering onto her side, she walks to his side. swinging her leg up and over his body and bringing herself to straddle him at his waist, legs either side of him.
"well, i like where this is going."
his hands cup her hips, the pads of his thumbs brushing over the naked skin of her hips and he's eager to dip his fingers into the band of her knickers and pull them away, revealing the one thing he was desperately eager to get a feel of. his eyes trailing from her eyes to her exposed collarbones and down the valley of her breasts which he just wanted to free from the constraint of her bra.
he could feel himself hardening beneath her, and she could feel his stiffening muscle against her thigh, forming an ache in her core for him that she really wanted to suffice. she couldn't let the night start so quickly and deep down, they both wanted to drag it out for longer than normal. they wanted to savour every passing second. drinking it in and feeling the emotions together.
"you really are so beautiful," he whispers softly, "i'm one lucky son of a bitch."
her fingers started playing with them hem of his t-shirt, moving it up ever so slightly to show a little bit of the skin of his stomach, boxers stretching across the growing hard-on that was seemingly bursting to be freed. and she wanted to. her fingers were there. but teasing him was something she loved to do.
"i think i'm the lucky one," she responds softly and he scoffs and his head shakes from side to side, "i am, george. i am. i'm just a nobody compared to you."
"nope," he shakes his head, "you're everything to me."
"oh, shut up," she retorts and pushes at his chest with her hands, soft enough to not hurt him, and he smiles warmly, "i am. you could have anyone and yet you chose me."
his hands wrap around her wrists and he brings them up to his neck, letting her bear her weight on his shoulders, a gentle groan escaping his lips as she shuffles on his crotch and brushes her warming core against his cock, bottom lip lodging between his teeth.
"i'm so in love with you."
"i love you," he smiles.
and yn's the one that closes the gap between the two of them. her lips melding together beautifully with him and her hands find his hair, fingers twisting between the strands at the nape of his neck, his hands dancing up her back. fingertips tickling her skin with the feathery touches he gives her bare skin, bringing her closer to him, chests flush together. their breathing was erratic, her hips moving slow motions, his fingers toying with the hooks of her bra in an eager attempt to tell her what she wanted without breaking the kiss.
and she lets him.
arching her back as a way of tell him to go for it and he doesn't need anymore than that to let both of his hands work on removing the bra from her chest, breaking the kiss for just a moment to pull it away from her, sliding it down her arms and throwing it aimlessly into the bedroom and hope it hit the floor instead of knocking anything from its place. chests rising and falling rapidly.
"i need you."
it's almost inaudible as it rolls off of her tongue. and he nods quickly, her fingers curling into the waistband of his boxers and she pulls them down just enough to free the boner that was leaking pre-cum and was twitching under her touch. his fingers working to slide down her knickers, without trying to tear the fabric or ruin them in his haste to feel her wrapped around him, and she adjusts herself on top of him so she can pull them down and chuck them towards the end of the bed.
as she throws them to the floor, his shirt comes off, revealing himself to her and she instantly feels her hands gravitate towards his bare shoulders, dragging her fingers down the skin of chest, with one hand continuing down his stomach until it wraps around his length, giving him a gentle few pumps and squeezes.
"so needy," she grins, "so so needy. for me?"
profanities rolling off of his tongue.
"always for you," he grunts out lowly, "see what you do to me?"
he can't stop himself from pushing his hips towards hers, feeling her legs tense as she feels his length slide between her folds, coming to a halt to allow her to adjust before his hips start the gentle thrusts he was desperate to make happen, her head rolling back as she let the deep and intense pleasure take over her body.
"you feel so good," he whispers and he lets her take over, grinding on his cock and twitching inside her every time she let out a whimper, the tip of his length reaching places he knew drove her crazy, her nails digging into his skin and leaving crescent indents behind, his arms wrapping around her waist and bringing her closer to his body, "so bloody good."
and he hides his face in her neck.
allowing her control gave him the opportunity to focus on giving her pleasure elsewhere on her body and his favourite place was her neck. leaving hickey after hickey behind down the stretch of skin below her ears and above her shoulders, nibbling and licking the skin as she lets him devour her.
"m'so close, baby," she hums and he brings his face from her neck, cheeks flush and his eyes hooded, lips swollen from being attached to her skin, and he can feel the burn in his belly that screamed how close he was to spurting out his release, "m'gonna-"
"wait for me," he begs, "wait for me, cum with me."
and she can feel her toes curling, her knees beginning to shake, her legs tensing. she quickens her pace, hearing his breathing getting caught in his throat, and his hands grip onto her hips to guide her at a pace that was getting him closer and closer, their eyes barely leaving each others. watery, hooded but lust-filled and darkening.
"m'gonna," he chokes off his sentence and lets his head drop to her chest, eyes clenching shut as he let his release fill her up, her own orgasm following behind him, squeezing him between the walls of her core, rhythm falling sloppy as she drops her head to his. her cheek resting upon the soft tufts of his hair. "fuck."
the room is filled with their panting, heavy breathing, and it smells like sex and the scent of candles melting, and they're seeing stars as they come down from their highs and allow themselves to fully regain their visions back to reality.
"i know what to buy you for christmas now."
"what?"
he grins lopsidedly up at her and she cups his face in her hands, thumbs catching the sweat coating his skin, soft and gentle.
"more lingerie," he says, "could go all night with you."
"give me half hour," she giggles softly, pressing a kiss to his lips and removing herself from his body, falling to the bed beside him, "we'll go for round two then."
thank you for reading if you managed to get this far! very thankful if you managed to make it to the end. george has such a special little place in my heart; i think it's split into four. my boyfriend has one, atv has the second, george has the third, arthur hill and chris can share the fourth... keep sending in your prompts/requests for arthur (and george!) and i'll slowly work my way through them during my days off from work and when i need a break from the locked in series. xx
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muzaktomyears · 20 days
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In 1980 Peter Brown, a former assistant to Brian Epstein who later ran Apple Corps, managed the Beatles and was best man at John Lennon and Yoko Ono’s wedding, started work on the definitive account of the Beatles. With the American author Steven Gaines, he spoke to the three surviving band members alongside wives, girlfriends, managers, friends, hangers-on and everyone else in the Fabs’ universe. The book promised to be the last word in Beatles history. Then in 1983 The Love You Make was published, and all hell broke loose.
“They were furious,” recalls Gaines, 78, still sounding pained at the memory. “Paul and Linda tore the book apart and burned it in the fireplace, page by page. There was an omerta, a code of silence around the Beatles, and they didn’t think anyone would come forward to tell the truth. But Queenie, Brian Epstein’s mother, told us above all else to be honest.”
“Even she didn’t think we would be quite so honest,” adds Brown, 87, his upper-crust English tones still in place after five decades in New York.
Why did The Love You Make, retitled by Beatles fans as The Muck You Rake, incite such strong feelings? The suggestion of an affair between Lennon and Epstein on a holiday to Barcelona in April 1963, only three weeks after the birth of Lennon’s son Julian, had something to do with it, but more significantly it was taken as a betrayal by a trusted insider. Brown and Gaines locked the recordings in a bank vault and never looked at them again — until now.
“Very good question,” Brown says, when I ask why he and Gaines have decided to publish All You Need Is Love, an oral history made up of the interview transcripts from which The Love You Make was drawn. He is speaking from the Manhattan apartment on Central Park West where he has lived since 1971. “When [Peter Jackson’s documentary] Get Back came out, a journalist from The New York Times wanted me to talk. I told him I hadn’t talked about the Beatles since the book was published and suggested he go to someone else. He said, ‘There isn’t anyone else. Paul, Ringo and you are the only ones left.’ And I thought, do I have a responsibility to clear it all up, once and for all?”
After the death of Epstein in 1967, Brown assumed the day-to-day responsibilities of managing the Beatles and Apple Corps. He had on his desk a red telephone whose number was known only to the four Beatles. Unsurprisingly, given his insider status, the interviews make for fascinating reading. Paul McCartney, yet to be asked the same questions about the Beatles thousands of times over, is remarkably unguarded. Asked by Gaines if the other Beatles were anti-Linda, he replies: “I should think so. Like we were anti-Yoko.” On the image the Fabs had for being good boys on tour, he says, “You are kidding,” before going on to reference a notorious incident involving members of Led Zeppelin, a groupie and a mud shark, concluding: “No, not in the least bit celibate. We just didn’t do it with fish.”
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Ono, speaking in the spring of 1981, not long after Lennon was killed in December 1980, reveals that she didn’t sleep with Lennon for the first two years of their relationship — “John didn’t know how to make a move” — and claims that she was blamed by the Beatles camp, George Harrison in particular, for getting Lennon onto heroin in 1969. “Everything we did in those days, anything that was wrong, was my responsibility,” she tells Gaines. But everyone, from the Beatles’ notorious late-period manager Allen Klein to the Greek electronics wizard/hustler “Magic” Alex Mardas — “the Mordred of the Beatles’ Camelot” according to Brown — has their own version of events.
Going through the transcripts reminded Gaines of the long shadow cast by Lennon. “I didn’t realise how sensitive the other Beatles were to John’s opinion,” he says, speaking from his home in the Hamptons, Long Island. “Paul worried about what John would say [in the event Lennon died before being interviewed] and was still longing for his friendship. George said that John didn’t read his autobiography because it was called I, Me, Mine. Those interviews were done before John’s death and Paul’s heart was broken, even then. It wasn’t just the break-up of the Beatles. It was more personal than that.”
From around 1968, the transcripts reveal how the key Beatles duo started to come apart. McCartney’s enthusiasm was only getting stronger. But Lennon grew increasingly bored and disillusioned. “You have to remember that John wasn’t in love with his wife Cynthia,” Gaines says by way of explanation. “He wanted to get away from the life he was leading and that’s why he started to experiment with drugs, all the way up to heroin.”
Brown says Ono was, and probably still is, a distant, mysterious character, exactly the kind of person Lennon was looking for, having done the right thing and married the sensible, quiet Cynthia after she discovered she was pregnant with Julian in 1963. “John told me about meeting this woman, and how frustrated he was that he couldn’t get to know her better; he couldn’t take her to lunch because it would cause gossip. I gave him the key to my apartment so he and Yoko could be together in private and thought, naturally, they were going there to f***. When I went home that evening, the apartment was untouched. They did nothing more than sit on the sofa and talk. That’s what they wanted: to know each other.”
Regarding the long-held, unfair suggestion that Ono broke up the Beatles, Gaines says: “Yoko came along at the right moment to light the fuse, but the dynamite was already packed. They resented her, she was difficult to understand and had a deep effect on John, but they were getting more and more unhappy with each other and needed to have their own lives. As people in the interviews say again and again, [the split] was bound to happen.”
It was Brown who in May 1968 introduced McCartney to Linda Eastman, an ambitious young American photographer whom he knew from his business trips to New York, when she came to London on an assignment to shoot the Rolling Stones. “I was having dinner with Paul at the Bag O’ Nails [a club in Soho] when she turned up, so I introduced them and he was obviously taken with her,” Brown recalls. “The following Friday, May 19, we were holding a party for 12 top photographers at Brian Epstein’s house in London when she walked in. Paul says I didn’t introduce him to his wife … but I did.”
If the book has a villain it is Klein, the New York accountant who took over management of the Beatles and sacked everyone around them, much to McCartney’s horror. As Brown puts it: “He was a hideous person. He even looked like a crook: sloppy and fat, always wearing sneakers and sweatshirts. Everything he didn’t like was ‘for shit’.”
You wonder why Lennon fell for him. “The interviews suggest it is because Allen Klein offered Yoko a million dollars for her movie project,” Gaines says. “She was enticed and John would do anything Yoko said.”
“I asked Mick Jagger to come over and explain to the four Beatles who this Allen Klein was,” Brown remembers. “And John, in his wonderful way, had Klein turn up to the same meeting, which was deeply embarrassing. It made Mick very uncomfortable too.”
Epstein, the man who saw the Beatles’ potential in the first place, is a central figure in All You Need Is Love. It includes a transcript of a recording of him from 1966, not used for the original book. It was in the possession of Epstein’s attorney Nat Weiss, and seemingly made by Epstein to mark the end of the Beatles’ final tour. He claims not only that Lennon felt remorse for the infamous comment on the Beatles being bigger than Jesus — “What upset John more than anything else was that hundreds of people were hurt by that” — but that the Beatles would tour once more. “There’s no reason why they shouldn’t appear in public again,” Epstein claims. They never did, unless you count that rooftop performance on January 30, 1969.
“Brian was driving them around the north of England in his car for a year,” Brown remembers of the early days. “This Jewish guy from Liverpool, who was gay, was with these guys who had been hanging around in Hamburg, so both had interesting backgrounds. They understood each other.”
For Gaines, a self-described “gay Jewish boy from Brooklyn”, Epstein is at the heart of the story. “Brian never felt the love of a real relationship. Then he found the Beatles. Everyone thought it would be just another of his phases, but he had tremendous feelings for John, both sexual and intellectual, and that’s what really pushed him. If there was one thing that started the whole thing off, it was Brian’s love for John Lennon.”
That love affair was the contentious issue of the original book. In his interview, McCartney says of Lennon going to Spain with Epstein: “What was John doing, manipulating this manager of ours? Sucking up to him, going on holiday, becoming his special friend.” It wasn’t the suggestion of a homosexual relationship that was troubling McCartney, but the balance of power tilting in Lennon’s direction.
“Paul wanted to be in charge, and he deserved to be because he was the motor, the driving force,” Gaines says. “Paul felt that John would steal away the power. He felt threatened by John’s relationship with Brian.”
“Paul always wanted to be active,” Brown adds. “After Brian’s death the world had to be carried on. Who was going to do that? It wasn’t going to be John, George or Ringo. Brian was my best friend and I was very upset [at his death]. I had to go to the court to convince the magistrate that it wasn’t a suicide, and the following day Paul set up a meeting so we could discuss what we would do next. I said we’d do it next week, and he said, ‘No, it has to be now.’ He was right.”
How did Brown and Gaines feel about the horrified reaction to the book, not just from fans but the Beatles themselves? “The world has changed,” Gaines says, by way of answer. “Now, after all these years, hopefully people can see it as a truthful, loving and gentle book.” It has been decades since Brown spoke to the surviving Beatles and he has not contacted them about this new publication.
What the interviews really capture in eye-opening detail is the story of four young men who became a phenomenon, then had to deal with the fallout as the dream ended. On December 31, 1970, the day McCartney sued the other three to dissolve the partnership, Brown handed in his resignation as the Beatles’ day-to-day manager and officer of Apple Corps. Ringo Starr said to him: “You didn’t want to be a nursemaid any more, and half the time the babies wouldn’t listen to you anyway.” Brown moved to New York and became chief executive officer of the Robert Stigwood Organisation. But the Beatles never fully left him, and in the wake of Get Back — and the news that Sam Mendes is to direct four biopics, one on each Beatle — he decided he had one last job.
“We have finished our responsibilities,” Brown says with quiet authority. “It is the end of the story.”
EXTRACTS
‘It’s like bloody Julius Caesar, and I’m being stabbed in the back!’
Paul McCartney on the Beatles signing Allen Klein as manager against his wishes
[John Lennon] said, “I’m going with [Allen] Klein, what do you want to do about it?” and I kind of said, “I don’t think I will, that’s my roll.” Then George and Ringo said, “Yeah, we’ll go with John.” Which was their roll. But that was pretty much how it always ended up, the three of them wanted to do stuff, and I was always the fly in the ointment, I was always the one dragging his heels. John used to accuse me of stalling. In fact, there was one classic little meeting when we were recording Abbey Road. It was a Friday evening session, and I was sitting there, and I’d heard a rumour from Neil [Aspinall, road manager] or someone that there was something funny going around. So we got to the session, and Klein came in. To me, he was like a sort of demon that would always haunt my dreams. He got to me. Really, it was like I’d been dreaming of him as a dentist. Anyway, so at this meeting, everyone said, “You’re going to stall for ever now, we know you, you don’t even want to do it on Monday.” And I said, “Well, so what? It’s not a big deal, it’s our prerogative and it could wait a few more days.” They said, “Oh no, typical of you, all that stalling and what. Got to do it now.” I said, “Well, I’m not going to. I demand at least the weekend. I’ll look at it, and on Monday. This is supposed to be a recording session, after all.” I dug me heels in, and they said, “Right, well, we’re going to vote it.” I said, “No, you’ll never get Ringo to.” I looked at Ringo, and he kind of gave me this sick look like, yeah, I’m going with them. Then I said, “Well, this is like bloody Julius Caesar, and I’m being stabbed in the back!”
‘You don’t like to see a chick in the middle of the team’
Paul McCartney on Yoko Ono
Give Yoko a lot . . . that was basically what John and Yoko wanted, recognition for Yoko. We found her sitting on our amps, and like a football team, an all-male thing, you really don’t like to see a chick in the middle of the team. It’s a disturbing thing, they think it throws them off the game or whatever it was, and these were the reasons that I thought, well, this is crazy, we’re gonna have Yoko in the group next. Looking at it now, I feel a bit sorry for her because, if only I had been able to understand what the situation was and think, wait a minute, here’s a girl who’s not had enough attention. I can now not make this into a major crisis and just sort of say, “Sure, what harm is she doing on the amps?” I know they would have really loved me. You know, we didn’t like Yoko at first, and people did call her ugly and stuff, and that must be hard for someone who loves someone and is so passionately in love with them, but I still can’t — I’m still trying to see his point of view. What was the point of all that? They’re very suspicious people [Lennon and Ono], and one of the things that hurt me out of the whole affair, was that we’d come all that way together, and out of either a fault in my character, or out of lack of understanding in their character, I’d still never managed to impress upon them that I wasn’t trying to screw them. I don’t think that I have to this day.
How Cynthia Lennon was driven to drink — at an ashram
Alexis ‘Magic Alex’ Mardas on Ono’s love letters to Lennon
Alexis Mardas was also known as Magic Alex, a name John bestowed on him because he was so taken with Alex’s inventions. Alex was handsome, charming, and a charlatan. (He sued The [New York] Times in Britain for calling him a charlatan and settled out of court. He’s dead now.)
[The Maharishi] was fooling around with several American girls. The Maharishi was making all of us eat vegetarian food, very poorly cooked, but he was eating chicken. No alcohol was allowed in the camp. I had to smuggle alcohol in because Cynthia wanted to drink. Cynthia was very depressed. John was receiving letters from Yoko Ono. Yoko was planning to win John. She was writing very poetic and very romantic letters. I remember those letters because John was coming to me with the letters, and Yoko was saying to John that “I’m a cloud in the sky, and, when you read this letter, turn your head and look in the sky, and if you see a small cloud, this is Yoko. Away from you but watching you.” Poor Cynthia was prepared to do absolutely everything to win John. She was not even allowed to visit the house where John was staying. She was longing for a drink. Now, drinks, they were strictly prohibited in the ashram, but when it was discovered that Maharishi had a drink, I said, “Just a second, at least equal.”
‘He’s become so nasty’
George Harrison on reaching out to John Lennon
What’s wrong with John, he’s become so nasty. It sounds like he hasn’t moved an inch from where he was five or six years ago. I sent Ringo, John, and Paul all a copy of my book. I got a call from Paul. He called me up just to say how much he liked it. I shouldn’t have called it I Me Mine, because that title was a bit much. I sent a copy to John. I’m wondering if he’s actually received it, if he’s received it, he probably doesn’t like it or something offends him about it.
‘I told John that ... it was just a nice feeling’
Yoko Ono advising John Lennon how to take heroin
George said I put John on H, and it wasn’t true at all. I mean, John wouldn’t take anything unless he wanted to do it. When I went to Paris [before I met John], I just had a sniff of it and it was a beautiful feeling. Because the amount was small, I didn’t even get sick. It was just a nice feeling. So I told John that. When you take it properly — properly is not the right word — but when you really snort it, then you get sick right away if you’re not used to it. So I think maybe because I said it wasn’t a bad experience, maybe that had something to do with it, I don’t know. But I mean so, he kept saying, “Tell me how it was?” Why was he asking? That was sort of a preliminary because he wanted to take it, that’s why he was asking. And that’s how we did it. We never injected. Never.
‘It was time’
Ringo Starr on the end of the Beatles
Ringo Starr: Well, I’m pleased it happened because in so many ways, I’m glad it’s not going now. It was time. Things last only so long. Steven Gaines: The Rolling Stones are [still] going. Ringo Starr: Yeah, but they’re old men.
(source)
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billskeis · 4 months
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Hi! Absolutely love ur work💕💕 Okay so could you write hcs with all four members (separate) that have a quiet/ shy type s/o?
(Sorry that this req is short but my brain is running out of juice rn, love the work, keep it up😘😘)
ᡣ𐭩 tokio hotel w shy s/o
thank u so much! and don’t worry, you’re doing great! let’s appreciate all my shy and quiet homies out there! y’all deserve some more appreciation in your life.
headcannons down below!
bill
loves loves loves that you’re shy, he thinks it’s so cute
usually one to go for loud spontaneous girls but you’re like a stick in the mud, and that drew you to him
since you don’t talk much you’re a really good listener, and bill is known to ramble a lot
appreciates the fact you listen to him attentively
because of how tall he is, loves the fact that whenever you’re out to meet new people you hide behind him, how you have to peak behind his shoulder once he introduces you to his peers or acquaintances and is always holding your hand through it, squeezing it to ensure everything is okay
hand holding in public gets you super shy but bill loves to show you off in any way possible
his love language is definitely words of affirmation, so will out of the blue compliment you to see how you react
hiding your face, not knowing how to respond, running away from him to only catch up to you quickly
he fucking loves that shit
“aww come on baby, am i not allowed to tell you how beautiful you are?”
tom
just like bill, usually goes for spontaneous girls
but when he saw you at the club and how flustered you became when he hit on you, MANS WAS DRAWN INNN
physical touch all the way, makes you insane and knees weak, and he just lives for that
sudden grabs of the waist, hugging, holding your neck gently to swiftly pull you into a kiss
maybe if he’s feeling bold he’ll sneak a hand on your ass
the eye contact goes crazy, once you look at him and he catches you, he’ll never break his gaze
finds it super adorable that you’re always the one to break the stare down, laughs and pats your head always afterwards
omgosh loves and i mean fucking loves it when you hide yourself in his clothes especially his sweaters when he’s wearing them how you’ll just tuck yourself into the sweater bodies pressed together engulfing like FUCK do this more often he loves it
whenever you go out to get food, you’re shyness doesn’t allow you to take to service workers so he always offers to order for you, eventually it becomes a habit and does it himself
“how’s that baby, i made sure to get your coffee just how you like it.. oh me? a coca cola!”
gustav
introvert x introvert ALL THE WAYY BABEYYY
the way you and gustav show affection for one another usually comes from physical touch or acts of service
communicating with each other isn’t hard, it’s almost like a spidey sense where you just know what the other person wants or needs and can simply do that for them
expect soo many cuddles, movie marathons and baking/cooking sessions, gustav loves to cook and bake with you, the playlist on in the background that the two of you curated for one another simply enjoying each other’s company is enough for the both of you
on the other hand, if you guys wanted to step out of the comfort zone to go outside on a date, expect to play rock paper scissors to see who has to talk to someone to either order food or request a table at a restaurant
you and gustav can also have one on one sessions with each other deep conversing, talking about anything and everything
can immediately notice when you’re uncomfortable or feeling way too shy or nervous in situations
will either step up, say something, or simply bring you somewhere else where it’s now just the two of you
if you tell and express to him how you feel, will fully listen to you, holding your hands together caressing them
“i understand.. we can either leave, or if not, you can sit next to me! i’m right here with you.
georg
is the biggest shit ever
even more than tom, loves to tease you, you can find him tapping your shoulder and running away leaving you confused or whenever you compliment or tell him you love him will make you repeat it loud and clear
but if it comes to that case, will have to beat the shit out of someone if they make a comment about how shy or quiet you are
not much of a talker, but when he does find himself talking a lot more than you in conversations always asks what you think and what your opinion on it is
does it solely just to hear you speak because he loves your voice and doesn’t get to hear it enough ugh y/n what’s wrong w u??
expect him to rest his arm on your shoulder, head on chin, and bear hugs, he thinks that just because you’re quiet he treats you as if you were someone smaller than him
but he this is just how he publicly shows how in love with you he is
constantly compliments you on how you look, the outfits you wear, how good you are at things vice versa nd that
but you finally snap back at him and compliment him even further and woah honey you have him in a chokehold rn
“fuck, i didn’t expect you to say that, can you say it again? please? i wanna’ hear it one more time..”
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sergeantbuckybarnes · 2 years
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good enough // george weasley
Summary: A Ravenclaw and a Gryffindor don't go together. Perhaps that's why George didn't ask you to the Yule Ball. Perhaps he prefers a Hufflepuff, which is why he asked Susan Bones instead of you.
Pairing: George Weasley x Ravenclaw!Reader
Word count: 1.8k
Warnings: two idiots in love, a little angst with a happy ending
A/N: As always, remember English is not my first language. Also, thanks to @allyjoe755​ for proofreading this!
This was a request by anon. Hope you like it!
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“Has he already asked you?” Your friend inquired.
You simply shook your head, attempting to hide your disappointment, but you knew you couldn't fool Cho; she knew you better than anyone else.
Truth is, you had been waiting for your best friend and long-time crush George Weasley to ask you to the Yule Ball, and you had even subtly hinted to him that you didn't have a date, but the ginger boy didn't seem to pick up on your signals.
Roger Davies was the first one who asked you to be his date, and even though he was a nice fellow Ravenclaw, you didn't want to rush in and say yes because you were hoping George would ask.
A few days later, Adrian Pucey approached you as you were leaving your potions class with Cho and Luna, both girls secretly squealing at the cute Slytherin. Despite the fact that Adrian was labeled as a nice guy, considering his house, you turned him down, again hoping for the ginger boy to ask you.
As the weeks passed and the ball got closer, you began to lose hope that George would ask you. You knew Fred was going with Angelina– you were there in the Great Hall when the older twin asked her– and you also knew Lee had asked Alicia Spinet. So what about George? Did he have a date that he didn't tell you about? Why hadn’t he asked you to go with him? It’s not like you expected him to ask you to be his girlfriend. You would even accept going with him as friends. You would take anything he would offer you. But, sadly, he was radio silent about the Yule Ball, and you weren't confident enough to ask him yourself, as Luna suggested, preferring to go alone rather than risk rejection.
And that’s how you ended up, sitting in a chair between Harry and Ron, who were both having an awful night as well, because neither of them were with the person they wanted to be with. You seemed to fit right in.
But your night was made even worse when your gaze was drawn to the redhead you'd grown to love as more than a friend, and your heart clenched inside your chest. You could feel your eyes welling up as he twirled Susan Bones and wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her closer to his chest.
He had, of course, invited a Hufflepuff to the dance. A Gryffindor and a Hufflepuff made an excellent match. But a Gryffindor and a Ravenclaw together? That sounded like a story from one of those Muggle fairy tales Hermione told you about. But you refused to cry, especially when you saw George approaching you, thankfully alone.
“Hey, snookums,” he greeted you, using the term of endearment he gave you when you were 11. You shared a compartment with him and Fred on your first ride to Hogwarts. It always warmed your heart that the pet name was exclusively yours, but now you wondered if he also used it with Susan.
You forced a smile.
“Hey, you.” You tried to sound as even as possible, not letting on that you were about to cry before he approached you. “You having fun?”
He just smiled and nodded before looking to the sides as if looking for someone, “Where’s your date?”
Susan appeared from behind him and linked her arm with his before you could even respond to his question. “Come on, Georgie. I love this song.” And he was dragged away from you.
“This is the worst night of my life,” Ron muttered.
And you had to agree.
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You avoided George at all costs after that disastrous night; you couldn't just hang out and listen to him brag about how much fun he had with Susan, and a part of you resented him a little for it.
Stopping hanging out with George meant stopping hanging out with Fred and Lee as well, and there was nothing you could do about it, even if you felt bad about making them pay the consequences of George's stupidity. The twins were always joined by the hip with Lee at their side.
You had no idea if George had noticed your absence from his life, or if he even cared. What you knew was that he made no attempt to approach you.
But George had noticed it. How could he not? You used to spend most of your free time with him, either in the Gryffindor common room or in the library; he would always drop by when you were studying and sit there for hours just watching you, teasing you now and then, calling you a bookworm and a smartypants. Sometimes you even helped him and Fred with some pranks.
Now, when you saw him in the corridors, you turned the other way, avoiding him like the plague. It hurt him. It hurt him even more not knowing what he had done to upset you.
Because, how could he even fix it if he didn’t know what he did wrong?
So he sought advice from his brother and best friend.
“You’re joking, right?” Fred stated. He was aware that his brother could be stupid, but not that stupid.
But George's helpless expression revealed nothing but seriousness.  
“You screwed up, mate,” Lee chimed in.
His friend's response confused him even more. The Quidditch Commentator simply rolled his eyes at his pal's folly. “She fancies you.”
“What? No, she doesn’t.”
Were his friends pulling his leg? You couldn't possibly feel that way about him. It sounded too good to be true. For Godrick’s sake, you were a Ravenclaw! You were incredibly intelligent, witty, kind, and beautiful...
“You must be the only jerk who hasn't figured it out yet,” His twin's voice jolted him out of his reverie.
“She's upset because you brought another girl to the Ball,” Lee explained. “That's a git move on your part, if you ask me.”
“She also went with someone else!”
“No, she didn’t.” George regarded his brother as if he had grown a second head. “A couple of guys asked her but she turned them down.”
“Because she was expecting you to ask her.”
“Then why didn't she tell me?” George approached you at the Ball and inquired about your date, and you appeared to be in good spirits.
Fred sighed and rolled his eyes. “Do we have to explain everything to you? She was most likely embarrassed! She must think you don’t feel the same way.”
“But I do! I do like her… She’s — How could I not like her?”
“You haven’t been the best at showing it.”
George sulked deeper in the lovearm seat, a hand running through his dishevelled, fiery hair. “How am I gonna fix this?”
“Don’t worry, Georgie, that's what you have us for.”
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The last thing you expected from your friends was to drag you out of bed at midnight and lead you all the way through the castle to the Quidditch pitch. You wondered how they got into the Ravenclaw common room and the girls' dormitories in the first place, but didn't bother asking them because you knew they weren't going to give you the answer you were looking for.
“I swear to Merlin, if Filch catches us, I'll hex you.”
Fred and Lee didn't seem phased by your threat, and once you arrived at your destination, they left you alone, ignoring your question about where they were going.
“You better not try to pull a prank on me!” You screeched to no one in particular; you were standing alone, but you knew your friends were hiding somewhere, waiting for whatever was about to happen.
A deafening bang reached your ears, followed by an impressive display of fireworks that made your jaw drop. The sight of them exploding in the night sky was unforgettable. As the colors and light spelled out ‘Do you want to be my girlfriend?’, it created a magical atmosphere.
You stared at the sky with wide-open eyes that you couldn’t shut. The display of colors and sparks in the sky didn’t seem to fade, so you guessed they were enchanted. You were so taken aback by what you were seeing that you didn't notice a lanky, tall ginger standing beside you until you heard him speak. “Do you like it?”
You turned to face him, a little startled. “George! You scared me!”
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.
When you didn't say anything, the silence between the two of you became uncomfortable, and George began to feel anxious. A wave of thoughts filled his mind, the majority of which were that his brother and Lee had duped him and that you didn't actually fancy him as he had been told, and you just didn't know how to turn him down. Despite this, the younger twin worked hard to push those thoughts away and regain his usual confidence.
“What’s all of this about, George?”
“What do you think this is about?” He pointed out at the sky, “I want you to be my girlfriend.”
“What about Susan?”
“I don’t like Susan.”
“You took her to the ball.” You looked at the ground, feeling small and unable to hold his gaze.
“I know. It was a blunder on my part,” he apologized, “but I couldn't ask you and risk ruining our friendship. I didn’t know how you felt until Fred and Lee pointed it out to me, and I felt like a total git for hurting you.”
“You really like me?” You inquired, still unsure. George's words were everything you'd hoped to hear for years, but they were too good to be true.
“Love, I have been hooked on you since the first time I saw you.”
A small smile started breaking out on your face. “You are really a git.”
George reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear before cupping your cheek in one hand and resting the other on your waist.
“You didn’t have to do all of this, you know?” You said, referring to the fireworks show. “You could have asked me like a normal person.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” As he got closer, you could feel your heart pounding in your chest and butterflies in your stomach. “Besides, this is more my style. You should know that by now.”
George’s eyes stared into yours. His gaze exuded love and adoration. Then it happened. He closed the small gap that was keeping you apart. He kissed you. Your lips met like the north and south poles of a magnet. Kissing George was better than you could have imagined. You could feel the hollowness that had been left inside your body filled with passion. It felt like you were lost in a dream from which you didn't want to awaken. You held tightly onto him as if you were both merging into one.
“You still haven’t answered my question,” he mumbled against your lips as you parted to catch your breath.
“Wasn’t that a good answer?” Due to the proximity, your lips brushed his when you spoke. And you had to hold yourself from kissing him again, missing the warmth and softness of his lips.
“I’d prefer a verbal confirmation,” he teased, and you rolled your eyes, but you gave him what he wanted.
“Yes.”
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george-weasleys-girl · 7 months
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HI. You can choose whichever of the two (Fred or George, George or Fred, Gred and Forge) or you can do for both of them. I read your prompt list and two of them caught my eye. “First one who makes a noise loses” and “Let’s make a baby.” I anticipate as what you have in mind, you can choose one or both if needed..!
Thank you for your request, lovely! This is my first smut fic.😬I hope you enjoy it!
Oh, So Quiet
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18+ only
George Weasley x fem!reader
Warnings: smut, George tries to be a teasing jerk, fails miserably.
~•~
Y/N grinned. She knew that look, and the fact that, seconds later, George grabbed her hand and pulled her upstairs and into the back of the warehouse proved it.
"You know exactly what you're doing, don't you?" He growled, pressing her against the little corner table.
"Whatever do you mean?" She titled her head, eyes widened.
"You know I can't resist you in that skirt," he moved his hands down her hips and began pushing it up.
Y/N licked her lips, admiring the growing bulge inside his pants. "Oh my, is this that skirt?"
George cocked an eyebrow as he slid his hand between her legs and damn near came then and there when he realized she had a little surprise waiting for him. "No panties?"
"Dear me," she gasped in mock surprise. "I knew there was something I was forgetting this morning."
He pressed her tightly to him grinding his still clothed erection against her exposed pussy. A soft moan fell from her lips, and she reached down to unbutton his pants. But he stopped her mid-movement, trapping both of her hands in one of his. Two can play at this game.
"First one who makes a noise, loses," he mummered in her ear, grinning and absolutely confident that he'd win this little wager.
Y/N smiled and hopped onto the table, spreading herself wide. "You're on."
~•~
It took every ounce of willpower George had to keep himself quiet. He'd never realized how much noise he actually made during sex until he could no longer make a sound. And yet, even as he angled himself to hit the spot that turned his wife into a quivering, moaning mess, he couldn't pull even the tiniest whimper from her open mouth.
George bit down hard on his lip, watching as his cock disappeared over and over inside Y/N's pulsing heat. He sped up his pace, knowing they only had a few minutes before Verity or one of the other employees came looking for them. He instinctively turned to look behind them, just as Y/N clenched around him, snapping his attention back to her.
Her head was thrown back, eyes squeezed shut and lips drawn tightly together as her orgasm crashed over her. It was more than he could take, and he exploded inside her, unable to stop the guttural moan that escaped his lips.
"Fuck," he chuckled, letting his head fall forward to rest on her shoulder, his hips pumping lazily, riding out the last of their highs.
"I win," she panted, her cheekiness evident even through her breathlessness.
"Indeed you did," he grinned, shifting a little so he could look at her. But much to their disappointment, they didn't have time to bask in the afterglow.
"Mr. Weasley? Mrs. Weasley?" Simon's squeeky voice drifted through the warehouse.
George sighed and pulled out with a soft groan, then quickly got himself in order. "I'll take care of this while you get presentable again," he said, giving her a quick kiss before sprinting around the corner.
~•~
*if you don't want to be tagged in future smut, please let me know!
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harrisonarchive · 12 days
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On April 14, 2009, George received a posthumous star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. Photos by (?) Mark Ralston, Jim Ruymen.
“[George] was the most remarkable person. He had the most wonderful sense of humor, and the most wonderful thing that makes me so proud is that he leaves to extraordinary people: his wonderful widow, Olivia, his dark sweet lady and the love of his life; and his son, Dhani, whom he was inordinately proud of and would be even more proud of. The only words I can think of for George is, it’s all down to what you value.” - Eric Idle, speech at the event “We all have deep feelings for George because he was such a deep-feeling person. If you met him you couldn’t help but be drawn into his world, and he wanted to be in your world too. To me, he was a beautiful, mystical man living in a material world, and he was as funny as the day is long, and just as perplexing. I think I speak for all of us when I say that as time passes we discover more and more how deeply-seated he is in our hearts and lives. So, thank you everyone. George, this day is for you.” - Olivia Harrison, speech at the event Q: “In April, George received his own star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. What would he think about that?” Olivia Harrison: “I think by this point he would have been OK. But there was a point, sort of in the '90s, he was enjoying himself so much not doing anything in the public eye, he might not have done it. But you know, we want to give him a star and so that's too bad, George, you're going to have it [Iaughs]. He would always say, no matter what it was, ‘Oh that's nice.’ Sometimes people would make up an award and send it because they like him and he'd go, ‘Oh, that's nice.’ And he'd kind of put it on the table and it would just be there. Probably people don't realize that he did appreciate it whether it was the biggest award in the world or the smallest little award or a flower left in the gate … He might have some hokey little thing beside an Oscar on the shelf and it was all the same to him.” - Spinner, June 18, 2009 (x)
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