Anonymous asked: Could you please think about starting a John/Paul fic? I reall miss yours D:

I’m really busy D:

Anonymous asked: Ooo I'm liking the Who fanfic! ;)

Thank you so much! :3 Thought I’d spice it up.

Title: I Can’t Explain

Chapter: 1

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Jeith (John/Keith)

Warnings: Gay kissing, mild drugs

Time Period: Not quite sure. Early Who days, but not too early. I’d say late sixties, early seventies.

Disclaimer: I don’t own any members of the Who, as well as any other characters represented in this fic.

  I closed my eyes, the undeniable heat pounding at my head. My headache was unbearable, my fever climbing as each second passed. I was lying on the couch, dozens of pillows cushioning my head. Roger had insisted on a blanket, but I found it a miserable situation to even try and cover myself with that dreadful thing. It was so bloody hot, and that was the largest concern on my mind. The damn heat…

  “Keith!” Roger shouted, storming into the room. I groaned. “Why aren’t you wearing that blanket?”

  “It’s too hot!” I cried. 

  Roger looked confused. “It’s freezing in here, what are you talking about?”

  “I have a fever, smart one.”

  Roger nodded. “Ah.”

  “Therefore, my temperature is burning up.”

  Roger crossed his arms in a dive-like manner. “Do you want something?”

  “I’d like a glass of water, yes,” I choked out. 

  Roger raised an eyebrow.

  “And pills.”

  Roger sighed. “You know, you can’t always take those damn pills every time something’s a little off.”

  “Who are you to tell me that?”

  “A human being with a sense of right judgement.”

  I raised an eyebrow and chuckled. “Oh, really? I thought you were a dog.”

  “Shut up, Keith. You’re supposed to be feeling sick, aren’t you?”

  “Well, I am. It’s just that making fun of you makes me feel better.”

  “Well too bad. Guess you’ll have to be sick a little longer.” Roger flipped his golden curls and turned to walk into the other room, but my cry stopped him.

  “Will you at least bring me the water?”

  “No!” Roger slammed the door.

  I sighed, trying to cover myself with the dreadful blanket. What the hell was Roger talking about? This room was practically on fire! I really wanted that cup of water.

  I closed my eyes, resting my head against the softest of the pillows. Maybe if I fell asleep I’d completely forget that I was thirsty and burning up. My fever had to be sweltering up at this point, as even my joints ached with a burning sensation. Slowly, I drifted off into a light sleep. It felt so good to finally rest. That feeling, however, was interrupted by the creaking open of a door.

  My eyes jolted open as I looked over to the doorway, faced with an awkward-faced John. He had tried to make a pokerface, gritting his teeth as if he were upset at waking me up.

  “It’s alright,” I reassured him. “I was barely asleep.”

  John sighed with relief. “Good.”

  He walked over to me, sitting down on the footstool next to the couch. My smile illuminated as he handed my a glass of water.

  “What’s this for?” I asked.

  “Roger told me you wanted it.”

  I grinned. “So that ol’ goof actually does care about me.”

  John chuckled. “Yeah. Guess he does.”

  I leaned closer to him, my voice breaking into a whisper just in case Roger could hear me. “You got any pills?”

  John usually supplied me with any uppers or downers I needed. In this case, I needed everything there was to take in order to feel better.

  “Nah, not today, son.”

  I pouted. “Roger won’t bring me any.”

  John frowned. “Oh, I’m sorry.”

  “I don’t know any other way to feel better. I need medications or something in order to have any chance of being able to drum again…”

  John shoved me playfully. “Oh, sod off, Keith. You’ll be drumming again in no time.”

  I widened my already large, brown eyes and made a puppy dog face. “But wut if I don’t, Johnny?”

  John sighed. “Listen. You’re not taking drugs while you’re sick. That’ll make you feel even worse. If it helps, I’ll run to the drug store in a little while and get you something for a fever. But you aren’t taking any heavy drugs, okay?”

  I sighed. “Fine.” I looked around the room, trying to find something to talk about in order to avoid the awkward silence that had suddenly overcome the two of us.

  “You look worried, Keith.” John had a sixth sense like that. He could always tell when someone was upset. I felt like his special power worked especially well on me. 

  “I’m not.” My words were very sharp, very precise. That just made it more clear to John that something was wrong.

  “No, you’re upset.” John tried to look into my eyes, but mine quickly darted away from his. “I can tell.”

  I didn’t say anything. I just looked down, fiddling my thumbs and playing with my fingers. 

  John extended his hand, placing it on my chin and lifting my head up so that now I was facing him. “Keith, something’s obviously wrong. Is it the drugs? Because if it’s really upsetting you, I can run out and find someone who has some. I just don’t think it’s healthy, given the amount you normally take. Besides, you’re sick-”

  I dove in and kissed John on the lips, his eyes widening when we touched. For a brief second, our worlds combined, and everything was alright. But then John pulled away.

  He didn’t say anything; our eyes merely connected before he darted out off, into the other room. I sighed, sinking lower on the couch. I had liked John for an awfully long time, and for years I’d wondered what it would be like if he liked me back. If that kiss had actually meant something. I really wanted to be with him, but I could tell he didn’t want me back. I closed my eyes, drifting off into a heavier sleep. Tonight I’d dream that same dream of John and I kissing, like always. Only tonight, it’d be from experience.

Title: Young Blood 

Author: SgtPepperRigby

Pairing: George/Ringo

Rating: R

Warnings: Sexualness, yadda yadda yadda.

Summary: George falls head over heals for his teacher.

Word Count: 1,801

Disclaimer: I do not own the Beatles, as well as any other characters represented in this fan fiction.

  The knock on the door set us both off by quite a bit. I was right in the middle of, well, pleasuring Ritchie, and somebody wanted to get in the room. Thank god whoever was knocking couldn’t see us from the doorway. “Just a second!” Ritchie cried.

  I quickly stopped doing what I was doing and grabbed my clothes off the floor, helping Ritchie put his pants back on in the process. Once we were completely dressed I ran into the small and narrow storage closet in the corner of the room, closing the door behind me and preparing for the worst.

  I heard footsteps as the door creaked open, a booming and familiar voice echoing throughout the room. “Hello Mr. Starkey, how are you today?”

  It was Principal Wilson, the man I had just seen this morning. I wondered if he had come here for a reason; he obviously had. No principal would just waltz into a random teacher’s classroom for no reason. 

  “Just fine, Mr. Wilson.”

  “I came here to talk to you about one of your students.”

  “Ah?” There was the sound of something being picked up- probably Ritchie’s coffee. 

  “Yes, Mr. Harrison to be exact. George, is it?”

  “Mhmm, George it is.”

  “I got a recent report from a student that he was being picked on during class and out in the hallways.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Mmm, and I’ve been reported that you’ve been there to help him.”

  I could just tell Ritchie was blushing. “Well, it wasn’t exactly what I’d consider helping-”

He was damn right at that. Fucking is helping. Well, it was, but not in a way the headmaster would approve of.

  “You don’t have to try and polite about it. I know you’ve been supportive of him, and I appreciate it.”

  “Well, thanks, Mr. Wilson.”

  “Anytime, Ritch.”

  I giggled. Ritch. Who the hell calls him Ritch? I accidentally giggled so hard that I slammed hard into the side of the storage closet, making an audible bang.

  “What was that?” Mr. Wilson’s voice echoed through the air.

  “What was what?” I could tell Ritchie was trying hard not to look over at the closet in which I was encased in. I had messed up and laughed, big deal. The matter of the fact was that it was funny, and I couldn’t help but laugh. If I was caught hiding in the closet, it would be entirely Mr. Wilson’s fault for making me giggle.

  “Anyways, I’ll be on my way.” I was relieved that this was Mr. Wilson’s voice, signaling that he was on his way. I was still nearly shaking with laughter from before, and it was quite a difficult task to hide how hilarious this whole scenario was. In a few seconds I heard Ritchie and Mr. Wilson exchange goodbyes, and then the door behind Mr. Wilson was closed. I nearly fell out of the closet giggling.

  “What the hell?!” Ritchie cried. “He could have found you!”

  I smirked. “I know.”

  “You know?” 

I nodded, biting my lip to hold back laughter. “Chea.”

  “I could have gotten fired, and you expelled! You wouldn’t have a job. There would be newspaper articles written about us, scandalous reports, and people would criticize the hell out of us! Hell, I might go to jail! It’s not funny, George.”

  I smirked again. “Yes it is.”

  Ritchie failed at hiding his obvious grin. “Heh, you’re right. It’s actually pretty funny.”

  “I know, isn’t it?”

  We stayed like that for a few minutes, laughing at seemingly nothing and enjoying it completely. It was only after a few seconds of somewhat awkward silence that we remembered where we were.

  “Do you want to continue?” He asked, seemingly not enthusiastic about the topic whatsoever. I felt as if the only reason he brought it up was to make me happy.

  “Do you want to?” I asked.

  “If you want to.”

  “Ritchie, if you don’t want to continue, I understand.”

  “No, I was the one getting it. If you don’t want to, er, continue, you don’t have to.”

  I sighed. “Listen. I’d love to suck you off and all,” I smiled softly, “but we just almost got caught, so I don’t exactly think it’s the best idea.”

  Ritchie closed his eyes and breathed in the air deeply, as if he were thinking some immensely important thought. He slowly opened them and turned to me once more. “That sounds good. Wouldn’t want to get caught actually in the act.”

  I smiled in response as if to agree with him, and I began gathering my things up. In the middle of packing up I felt a familiar pair of arms wrap around my waist. Ritchie kissed my neck and whispered in my ear.

  “I never said we couldn’t go somewhere else.”

  I smirked.

  From the school to my place was a blur. I remember Ritchie letting me leave school first and waiting around the corner to meet me, as he left about five minutes after I did. We did this so people who saw us leave wouldn’t grow suspicious as to why my teacher and I were leaving school at the same time and walking out together. That sight alone would be enough to start rumors.

  When Ritchie arrived around the corner I grinned widely, even though I’d seen him only moments before. I spread my arms wide and smiled contently as he filled the space between them. Ritchie gave possibly the best hugs I could imagine. I always felt much more accomplished and happier with myself after I felt his arms around me.

  We walked to my house, but the entire time we walked, I wished we could be hand-in-hand. Of the many things we couldn’t do in public, holding hands was one of them. If I were caught being affectionate with another male, especially my teacher, I would be slaughtered. We could wait the five minute walk to my place, where we would be behind closed doors and out of the public view. 

  Arriving at my place, I slammed the door behind us, shoving Ritchie up against it and snogging him passionately. My hands grasped at his shirt, rubbing against the soft, cottony fabric and gripping it in my hands. His legs were nearly wrapped around my waist, my lips practically suffocating his. For once, I felt dominant. Then I heard voices.

  I stopped snogging Ritchie for a moment and turned around, my eyes meeting both John’s and Paul’s as the stood there, nearly in awe at the sight of Ritchie and I. Shit. I forgot I lived with them.

  “Pssh… hey..” I said, trying to casually back away from Ritchie as the couple stared me down.

  “Were you two gonna… right here?” Paul asked.

  I hesitated, but eventually nodded.

  “In the middle of the living room?!”

  I chuckled lightly, turning nearly red when I realized that Paul had heard me laugh. He was always very protective of what was his. I knew he would hate even the mere thought of Ritchie and I doing it, especially on his precious furniture. John only grinned.

  “Why would you have sex in the living room?!” Paul was still upset. I actually found it hilarious, the fact that he cared more about how his house and being looked more than anything else. He was such a perfectionist.

  “Well, it was convenient,” Ritchie spoke out, causing a fit of giggles from John, who was standing behind Paul. They were silent giggles, covered by John’s sleeve in an attempt to silence himself from Paul’s wrath. He was standing behind Paul so thankfully,  Paul couldn’t see John. All was going well until John practically toppled over the couch in laughter. I grimaced, fearing for the poor lad. He was going to get his ass kicked.

  “It’s not funny!” Paul cried, turning around and glaring at John. “They were going to shag on the couch!”

  “So?” said John, sitting up on the couch and repositioning himself. The laughter had melted from his face in a matter of seconds.

  “So? So? So?!” It was hard not to laugh at Paul’s rage. It honestly felt like he was a hormonal teenage girl at times. Something a man should never be. He was pacing back and forth across the floor as he spoke. “This is the living room couch! The couch that we all sit on and watch telly on! Hell, I eat while sitting on here sometimes! Imagine how disgusting it’d be if… ugh!”

  John only watched his lover in the midst of his angry state, clearing his throat to prepare a response. “But Paul,” was all he could come up with.

  Paul stopped pacing and turned to John, his voice snapping. “What?” he barked.

  “I’ve wanked sitting on this couch.”

  Ritchie and I burst out laughing.

  “What?!” Paul cried. “That’s disgusting! We sit here, John! How could you?”

  “I’ve done it more than once,” John smirked. “I get bored of just doing it in the bedroom when you aren’t home. I have the whole house to myself; why not do it wherever I please?”

  “God, John, that’s horrible!” Paul spat. “Screw this, I’m going to my room. Hopefully I’ll find somewhere you didn’t wank, and I’ll be able to sit there.

  When Paul stormed off, Ritchie and I realized it was serious. Every now and then, Pau got in one of his little moods. But it seemed more serious this time than it ever had been in the past. Even John’s happy mood from seconds ago had quickly faded into worry when he realized how upset Paul was.

  “Bloody git..” John muttered under his breath. “Gettin’ pissed off at nearly nothing. Learn to take a joke.”

  I could feel Ritchie’s body become more tense, and I knew he clearly didn’t want to be in this environment. Things had gone from hot and sexual to worrisome in a matter of minutes. I couldn’t blame the poor bloke for not wanting to shag anymore.

  “Listen, I’ll see you tomorrow,” Ritchie sighed, kissing my on the cheek before quickly pacing out the door. I had never seen him feel so awkward and unwanted. I felt bad.

  “Fuck!” I cried, punching the door after Ritchie had been gone for a few minutes. Once again, I forgot John was there.

  “They’ll be other times you two can shag,” John tried to calm me down. “But I think something’s seriously wrong between Paul and I.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, the other night, I caught him with another man.”

Anonymous asked: I hope you get out of your writer's block soon, (if you still have writer's block.) I'm a writer too so I totally feel for you. It's the worst! :P

Thank you! :3

Anonymous asked: Awww! That's not good! :P

I know :P Ugh I hate notknowing things

Anonymous asked: Hahah you're welcome! I was freking out too!!

I am having extreme writer’s block. Blahhhh.

Anonymous asked: Last night I had a dream that you updated your fanfic.. But then my Internet went off and I was like 'noooo! I need to know what happens next!' ... I thought you would like to hear that! :)

…

HOW THE FUCK
OH MY GOD
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