(no subject)
Title: Of Beautiful Nights and Horror-Filled Twilights (5/?)
Pairings: John/Paul, George/Ringo
Rating: NC-17
Timeline: 1973-ish
Warnings: language, sexual content/situations, angst, rape and abuse
Author: me!! :D
Disclaimer: I don't own dem D: sadly.
Authors Note: :D I've been wanting to write this fic for FOR. EVER. It just kinda came to me in a dream, so I'm like 'hey, why the hell not?' So just bear with me!!
Every chapter is 3 weeks later, unless specified as different.
Okay, so I messed up. John and Paul put Allison in the nursery across from their own room for their... Erm... 'mummy and daddy time'.
________
John has Paul's ankles over his shoulders, thrusting deep inside him. Paul moans John's name quietly, obscenities escape his plump lips.
"Johnny...Johnny..." Paul's close; his big eyes are leaking hot tears, his whimpers are hugh pitched, his lips are parted.
"Fuck, Paul..."
"Johnny yes! Oh...!" Paul's hips jerk upwards, buck up into John's, and the older almost collapses on top of him.
"Oh, I'm gonna cum... Yesyesyes!" Paul's body crunches upwards and he silently screams as hot white liquid spurts onto John's lower stomach.
John leans down and kisses Paul firmly on the lips as his pace become more frequent and much harder than before. His breathing quickens an he shivers before letting out a prolonged moan as he empties himself inside of Paul.
"Mm..." Paul swipes his index over the cum on John's stomach and licks slowly, seductively, as if John hadn't been spent just moments ago. He giggles and sticks the tip of his finger into John's lips and he sucks. The taste is sweeter than normal, and John says so. Paul then explains, gasping for deep breaths, that it would taste sweeter if he ate more fruit.
John complies.
_____
Paul and John lay in bed together for a long time afterwards, playing with each other's hair and fingers until Paul finally drifts off to sleep and Allison's first cry hits John's ears.
"She's probably hungry." John murmurs to himself as he gets up from the bed, sliding his t-shirt back on and pulling on Paul's pair of pyjama pants.
"Hello!" John opens the door of the nursery, and sees Allison standing against the bars carefully, a flushed and tired look on her face. Her eyes instantly light up when he enters the room. She giggles and reaches out for his embrace as he nears. John lifts her easily and swings her once before bringing her down into his arms.
"You hungry?" John asks, not really expecting an answer, but is rewarded with a hopeful coo. "Alrighty then."
As John walks quietly past his bedroom again, he notices Paul's back rising and falling peacefully, the sheets sticking to his warm body. John can't help but smile, his heart melts a little bit (although he'd never admit that) and he continues on towards the kitchen.
_____
Where am I...
The blinding white pain in George's head is splitting. Violet rings dance behind his eyes and he feels mesmerized. Patches of his skin are blackened or purpled and completely raw by bruises. Dried blood lay atop the bruises. His mouth is dry, he notices, when he presses his tongue forwards and it rebounds from a dirty rag. His jaw hurts, and his arms, and his chest...
"Geo, baby..." George hears a light thud as somebody lightly hits the ground. He feels a hand touch his bruised cheek, a kiss placed on his other.
"Maybe you should've behaved, hm? Well, since you're already on your knees."
And it's Ringo. The Ringo he knew vanished overnight, over one simple question for impregnation, and suddenly he was this... This monster.
The gag is released from his mouth, and George looks down to reveal his nakedness. He shifts uncomfortably, not liking the cold air that pricked his tortured skin. He hears the belt buckles' clink of release, and a hungry moan. George braces for the worst.
Ringo shoves himself over George's chapped lips and into his dry mouth. He places his hands on the weak shoulders of the helpless man- no, boy, Ringo thinks with a tight smile- beneath him.
"Go on, suck it. And watch your fucking teeth." George's now dull brown eyes brim with tears as his cheeks hollow (even more than usual) and his mouth begins to move up and down the swollen cock inside of his once-clean mouth.
_____
16 Years Ago...
Ringo's lean arms wrap around my waist when he pulls me a little more up from beneath the white sheets to kiss me. I've always liked waking up to this; it was as natural as breathing now.
"Morning." I mumble in between a breath.
"Morning." he replies, burying his face in my mussed hair.
I moved from his grip to sit on his lap while he continued to lay in bed. I did that really cute thing he liked where I pressed a finger to my bottom lip and cock my head to the side a little bit.
"I get it, you're adorable, no need to rub it in."
"Aww, Rings, don't say that..." I lean up a bit and draw little stars and hearts through the fabric of Ringo's shirt with my finger.
"I love you." He collapses my arms and pulls me gently down to cradle me to his chest. Damn me if I knew the answer why I was still on top of him.
But he's kissing me anyways when the radio goes off, when John is chucking pebbles at my window, when all my mother wants to do is bust down my door and throw me out that window already and lead lucky ol' Ritchie to the front door.
_____
George's mouth is moving more fervently and smoother across Ringo's shaft. Ringo is moaning and shaking, whispering words of near completion.
"That's it... Fuck, you're a little slut, ain't ya?" Ringo knows George hates itt whenever he makes a refrence to prostitutes to him during sex. But this isn't sex.
George let's off for a moment to breathe, but Ringo pushes his head back roughly, having him choke suddenly. George tries pushing Ringo away to let a breath pass him.
Ringo doesn't move.
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