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I Just Want Someone to Love

Chapter Text

❥ RINGO’S POV

I sat on the porch, my gaze lifted towards the horizon. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes as I stared. The sun was so beautiful that night. I felt content looking at that big star in the sky. But my stare was cut off by yawning, my big, fat nose getting in the way of my sight as my lips parted.

Honestly, I hadn’t slept at all last night, nor had I even taken a nap that day. I was so tired out from listening to my mates blabber and rehearse the other night. I needed a break, and I just wanted to be alone for a little while. I ran a hand through my dark hair, whimpering as I accidentally touched a bruise, which hurt like hell.

I and the lads were playing baseball the other day, and John hit the ball, and it ended up hitting me in the head. I hadn’t seen the bruise yet, but I assumed it was pretty bad, considering how much pain I felt by just touching it with my fingertips. It seemed rather swollen to be honest.

John always did that. He always hurt everybody on purpose. After he hit me with that ball, you knew he purposely did it just by looking at him. He always had that evil look on his face after hurting someone - mentally or physically, it didn’t matter.

John was about twenty-three years old. He was clean-shaven, short dark hair, pure and clean skin – you get the picture. He was a real dick, and liked hurting others. He went after women and men. He didn’t care about your sex, he’d fuck you anyway. He was a guitarist for our band, which was The Beatles. It was a shitty name I’d say, but we were unoriginal twats that couldn’t come up with a better name so we just went with it. Either way, we were still shit. Back to John, his best friend was Paul. I could tell something was going on between them because of how often they went out together and came home smelling like cigarettes and lavender but I decided to pay no mind to it considering how fucked up society is.

Paul wasn’t any different from John. Paul was an asshole too. It didn’t matter how adorable or feminine or innocent he looked; he was a devil in disguise. He always had this smug look on his face, his lips curled up all the time. His eyelids drooping…yeah, that was Paul. A lad of twenty-one, he was shorter than John and George, taller than me, of course since I was the shortest of the four of us. Paul liked hurting people; it was like his life’s job. He didn’t hurt anyone physically, but he tend to fuck up people’s mentality. If someone was fat, he’d comment on it and tell them to stop stuffing their fat face. If they were too skinny, he’d tell them to eat more and stop being a bitch about their weight. The hypocritical fact about the last statement is that he too complained about his weight to John, commenting about how he believed he was skinny and ugly. Aw ya daft cunt, cry me a river why don’t you.

Now George, only twenty, was better than the both of those two dicks put together. He was pretty shy and quiet when you first met him, but after a while he was pretty happy and expressive, but the quiet factor was still there however. He didn’t talk a lot, but nobody really cared about that. George was so nice, it made me feel content feeling his presence about. It felt comforting knowing he was there. He seemed to be the smartest out of us.

Then, there was me. The eldest and shortest out of the four of us. I don’t really know how I’d describe myself, and I hadn’t a clue how others would describe me at all. I was just me, somebody trying to live their life with their friends. I was a living, breathing person. I ate, drank, slept, walked, and talked – everything a person could do.

I was the drummer boy, and I loved what I did. I always loved hearing the voices of the others, singing away. They all sounded so good, unlike me. I just sounded stuffy all the time and I’d get nervous sometimes whenever I sang. Perhaps that’s the reason why the girls didn’t like me that much, they always went for the other guys, and nobody wanted me.

The sun looked better than I did, and it was just a star. No one ever called me handsome or pretty. I was just ignored and left alone.

As I stared at the sun, I didn’t even notice one of the guys came outside. I jumped as a hand was placed on my shoulder. “Whoa Richie, calm down. I’m not gonna hurt ya.”

“M-Macca? Sorry, I didn’t know you came out here.” I moved away a little to give him room to sit on the step next to me, which he did. He sighed, crossing his legs and putting his head on my shoulder, which I thought was really weird.

“Ya staring at the sunset too?”

“U-Uh…yea, I guess I am. Why are you out here?”

“Am I not allowed to be outside?”

“N-No, I’m jus’ curious is all.”

“Hmm…I wanta watch the ‘set too, Rich.” He put his head up, and I swore I saw a smirk on his pretty face as he brushed his lips over my ear. My cheeks went beet red, and my body temperature rose fast. I looked at him, and I gulped as he rested a hand on the side of my head, slowly pulling my lips closer to his. What the fuck was going on here?

All of a sudden, John came outside, and I felt an extremely painful kick to my back, and I fell right down the porch steps, landing on my stomach with a loud thud. My back was in pain, and it was hard for me to get up. “Oh, John!” I heard Paul gasp from above.

“Don’t worry, Paulie.” He came down the steps; putting his foot on my back and pushing me right back down onto the concrete. “What the fuck do you think you were doin’, Rich?” He growled.

“W-What? W-What did I do?!” I cried, biting my lip hard.

“Yer out ‘ere tryna kiss my best mate? Do ye know how queer that is, Starr?!”

“I-I…he tried to kiss me! I didn’t wanta kiss ‘im!” I responded, trying my best to defend myself, “He was tryna pull me in fo’ a kiss!”

“Ah, really now?” When I looked at him, he was looking over at Paul, who just sat there with his arms crossed, shaking his head as if he was silently defending himself.

“So, you were kissin’ him! Ya dirty lil’ queer.” He kicked me in the side, and I cried out in pain as I tried to get away from him. He just laughed at me before walking off, Paul following him. “See ya inside, Richie…” I then heard the door open and close.

I was left there, on the concrete. I was trying to catch my breath as my hearing was deafened by my heart beating faster than normal. It took me a while to gather enough strength to finally get up. It hurt to do anything. I didn’t do anything wrong, Paul started it. It hurt me so bad, I could not believe it. John kicked, but he had never kicked me that hard before.

I wasn’t queer. I had never had feelings for another man. I was being accused of something I never did, and something I am not. I hated feeling so wrong inside, but that was life I guess. I just hoped John wouldn’t say anything about this to fans. It would surely ruin my reputation.

Maybe they were just playing around with me. They probably were, because friends would never hurt each other on purpose. What would the point of friends be if they were just going to constantly hurt each other? That’s not what a real friend would do. I loved my friends; they were the only family I had. Those three were like my little brothers.

I soon managed to get up, my legs shaking as I slowly made my way up the porch steps. I nearly collapsed on the way up, but I somehow got through the torturous walk. I shakily opened the door, nearly stumbling through. I shut the door, putting my head against it.

“Ringo?” I looked over when I heard George’s voice. “Ya okay, Rich?”

All I could do was nod at him, not wanting to speak a word. He gave me a strange face before walking over to me. “You sure? You seem pretty shaken up and stuff. You’re bent over against the door.”

“’m fine, George.”

“Ri-“

“George, ‘m fine, for Christ’s sake, don’ worry ‘bout it.”

He scratched his chin, nodding silently as he turned around and walked off, telling me to feel better on his way out. I grabbed onto my blue sweater, limping away and making sure I didn’t fall on the way to my bedroom.

I fell onto my bed, whimpering softly as I curled up into the fetal position. That shit was painful as all hell. I felt like crying because of it, but I held back my sadness and just lie there. I didn’t know what else to do other than sleep or cry, maybe both.

Well, there really wasn’t much I could do. John was pretty tough, and Paul was just…Paul. They were like the dynamic duo you didn’t want to run into on the streets. They’d have you on the ground in a second, even if Paul was weak.

I could hear footsteps coming down the hallway, and my eyes shut. But then I heard George’s voice, and that’s when my eyes opened again. I didn’t move, only looked forward into my legs.

“Ringo.” George spoke up.

“G-George…what is it?”

“Smell the air, why don’t ya?”

I did as he said, and I could smell chicken soup. I slowly sat up, biting my lip to stop any noises coming out as I felt my back burn. After finally sitting up, I looked at him. There he was with a fluffy white pillow and a bowl of I assumed to be soup after taking in the smell. He walked over to me, putting the bowl down and grabbing the pillow out from behind me, replacing it with the newer one. I lie my back against it. “W-Whatcha doin’, George?” I asked him, feeling curious.

“Just wanta make ya feel betta, Richie.”

“I feel fine, George. ‘m bein’ honest, ey.”

“I know, I know, but I wanta make ya feel betta than that.”

He gave me the bowl, and I just stared down at the content inside. I sighed as I picked up the spoon, beginning to eat. That was how I spent the rest of my night, eating soup and talking to George about various things, and it was like the pain was starting to die off the more I spoke to him.

Maybe I would talk to John and Paul tomorrow about the event that occurred. They were just playing with me after all.

Right?

Chapter Text

❥ GEORGE’S POV

Looking out the window and seeing Ringo on the ground hurt me. I couldn’t believe the way they treated him. I would’ve stopped them, but knowing me I couldn’t gather the courage to do such a thing. John and Paul would have me up against the door in a millisecond. I just thought I’d spend the night with Ringo just to make sure he was okay.

I awoke that next morn to the harmony of a bass accompanied by a guitar sounding from the living room. I’d bet it was Paul and John again, just being the idiots they always were. It was so noisy and all, but I didn’t really care much to go investigate the rambunctious musical tunes from outside the bedroom.

Being in a house with three other guys wasn’t all that easy. It was like being a single mother raising three boys after the father had left because of how annoyed he was with the children, probably running off with a whore as well. It was too much work, and you had more people to worry about.

Nonetheless, I’d managed to stand it for the past two years.

I soon got out of bed after not being able to go back to sleep, and I looked at the clock. It was seven in the morning. What in blazes were they doing up at seven in the morning playing their instruments for?

I began to get more and more agitated as the music their instruments produced flew into my ears, the notes ricocheting off my eardrums. I arrived at the living room, and sure enough, there were John and Paul playing the bass and guitar.

“Why are you two up at seven? What’s with the music?” I pointed to the clock.

“What’re you on about, George? It’s eleven in the morning.” Paul said, his lips curving up in that ol’ smug smirk.

I looked at the clock that hung upon the wall. He was right, it was eleven o’clock. Perhaps my clock wasn’t working proper. I decided I’d take a look at it later and see what the problem was. I turned back to them, “But what’s with the music, fellas?”

“We’re just practicing a new song we wrote.” said John as he scratched the back of his neck.

“Oh, a new song? What’s it called?”

“We hadn’t a name yet.”

“Well, lemme hear it, and I can help ya.”

“Nah, we’d rather not. But, you can read the lyrics we have so far.” Paul handed me a sheet. It was just a piece of paper that had words written in pencil on it. Couldn’t they have just done it with a typewriter? It’d be much better quality in my opinion.

So, I started reading it.

My little girl is sittin’ there,

She’s waitin’ for me!

Till the end of time,

We are meant to be.

Her baby buys her rings,

And pretty little things.

She belongs to me,

Sooner or later you’ll see.

Her baby’s tough and strong,

Am I even wrong?

I looked up at them, “The ending seems kind of self-centered, don’t ya think?”

“I wouldn’t say so; I’d say it’s depicting a natural mindset.”

“Really, now? Paul, is this song about you, then?”

“Hmm?”

“You’re pretty self-centered yourself. I really hope the ‘she’ in this song isn’t you. Otherwise, that’d be proof ya shaggin’ yer best mate.”

Paul stared at me for a long while, and then he shot a glare as his face burnt red. He started to play one of our songs on his bass. I snorted, “Ah, I too love Money.” I playfully stuck my tongue out at him before going to get some coffee for myself. After making it, I put both my hands around it and brought it right up to my mouth. I drank contentedly till I watched as Ringo entered the room, his hair all fluffed up. He wore those pajamas decorated with puppies and bunnies.

“Sleep well, Rich?”

He looked kind of startled, and then looked at me. “Mmmyea…”

“Didn’t mean to scare ya.”

“’m not scared, George. I just didn’t see ya there.” He tiredly let out his signature laugh before opening the cabinet and grabbing a box of cereal out of it. It was the damn Triple Snack cereal. That made Ringo use the bathroom a lot. Who knew why that was?

I placed my coffee down on the counter, walking over to Ringo, wrapping my arms around him from behind and holding him close. He turned his head, and his big nose pressed against my forehead. “Whatcha doin’, George?”

“Huggin’ ya, Rich.”

“Why?”

“Dunno, just want to.”

“Is this because of yesterday?”

I thought for a while, maybe it was because of yesterday. I hadn’t been able to get it off my mind since last night. I assumed it was so. I hugged him tighter, not wanting to let go of him. I felt like standing there all day with my arms wrapped around Ringo. It felt like I was doing something good. Of course, we couldn’t just stand there all that day, and I’d have to let go at some point.

I just continued to hold him until he asked the question again, and to that I answered that it wasn’t, and I just wanted to hug him because of how good of a friend he is. That was kinda true, but…

“Bet that isn’t why, Georgie.”

“What do ya mean?”

“You’ve been touchy since yesterday night, ‘m fine. You don’t have to worry.” He turned around and hugged me back. “I’ll be aight.”

It soon looked as if something had clicked in his head. “Oh yeah, that’s right. I was gon’ have a chat with Paul and John.” He let out his signature laugh again, “Gotta know why they were pullin’ that prank.” He let go of me, and I let go of him.

As I watched him strut off, I found it odd how he’d just sound so serious one moment and then the next moment go back to being his usual cheerful, stupid self. He’d done this a lot before, yes, but he’s never done it as much as this. I just decided to shrug it off, thinking it was just him being a dumb lad.

I jumped as I heard a thud sound from the other room. As I went to investigate, there I saw Ringo on the floor in front of John and Paul. He looked as if he was recovering from quite a fall. “Hey, what was that for?” He asked.

“You should really watch where you’re going, and then you wouldn’t have tripped over my foot.” Paul smirked, and I noticed his face was still red from what I said a while ago. I guess he couldn’t outlive how embarrassed he felt. Ringo just looked at Paul with a confused look on his face before getting up, dusting himself off.

“Still shaken up about what I said, Paul?” I gave an evil smirk, and he growled, turning away from me and looking at John.

“Jus’ wanta ask ya lads a question is all.” said Ringo.

“What is it, ya nuthouse?” John asked, crossing his arms.

“Why’d ya pull such a prank on me last night…with the Paul kissin’ me thing and you kickin’ me?”

“Prank?” They looked at each other, and then chuckled. Paul answered his question. “Oh, yes, it was a prank. We love fun, just like you.”

“Oh, I knew it was a prank.” He smiled stupidly, letting out that laugh again. I couldn’t believe Ringo would fall for that shit. Why were you like this, Ringo? You shouldn’t believe everything people tell you, don’t you know that?

I felt pretty bad for Ringo. Those two were bullying the hell out of him, and he didn’t even realize it. Poor, poor Richie…I felt like stepping in and stopping it all, but I didn’t. I don’t know why, but I just couldn’t get myself to. Maybe it was because of how threatening John and Paul could really be.

“What was the prank for, though?”

“Just for fun, really. John hurt you on accident, he didn’t really mean it.”

“Oh, okay.” He scratched his big nose. He then looked at me, “See, George? There’s nothing to worry about.”

I made a face of concern, and then I smiled softly at him. “Oh…okay then. I guess so, Ringo.”

“Time to go eat me cereal now, yeah.” He ran off, and it was just me and Paul and John.

“I can’t believe he actually believed us.” Paul snickered, messing around with his bass. I bit my lip.

“That wasn’t very funny, Paul. I saw John kick him hard. It took Ringo a while to even get up, and he limped on his way to the porch steps. You could’ve broken bones, Ringo is very fragile.”

“So? He’d just go to the hospital and get better anyway, no point in worrying.”

I couldn’t believe them. Were they even aware that they could end up putting Ringo in the hospital, possibly for the rest of his damn life? I hated them for that; they didn’t understand the harm they were causing to him physically. It made my blood boil knowing that.

But what about mentally? That was something I thought about a lot. How was this all effecting Ringo mentally? I might as well be asking the right question here. How was I supposed to know? I didn’t live inside Ringo’s head; I wasn’t able to read his thoughts. How was I supposed to know how he really felt about everything? I was interested in finding out, but had no courage. I was like a cowardly lion in situations like this.

Chapter Text

❥ PAUL’S POV

That Ringo, that silly old fool, he was such a moron. I found him rather annoying; he wouldn’t stop with that dumb fucking laugh. I really just wanted to get away from him altogether, and so did John. Ringo was childish and a nuisance, the three of us were smarter than he’d ever be. I regret ever meeting his dumb ass in the first place.

John and I always did anything to receive the opportunity to throw him around and beat him up just for fun. We felt as if he deserved it. Ringo didn’t deserve to be happy; he deserved a life full of sorrow and grief. I don’t even know why we still allowed him to live with us.

We’ve hurt Ringo so much, and he was too stupid to realize that we actually meant every little thing we did to him. He’d fall for anything. Like George had said, we’d end up putting him in the hospital one day. PFFT, whatever, he’d come back home all well again and then we’d have more fun with him.

Now onto a more important topic: John Lennon.

John was a dreamboat. I loved him so much. He was like a god, he was so fucking majestic. I loved each and every bit of that man. Shit, I would’ve let him pound my ass into the fucking mattress of the bed we shared. I was glad he loved me too, or else I would’ve died.

I sat up in bed, looking down at John, who was still asleep next to me. I smiled down at him, leaning down and gently blowing on his ear. He shuffled around, batting at his ear before hiding beneath the blanket.

“John, luv, you need ta get up.”

“No…”

“Yes, and ya will be gettin’ up.”

“No, Paulie.”

I groaned, grabbing him and quickly sitting him up before giving him a slap to the face, and that woke him up proper. I watched him close as he got out of the bed, “What’s up with ya that makes ya wanna get me outta bed so desperately?” He asked, seeming rather confused and sleepy.

I smirked, “I mean, ya don’t have ta get outta bed…”

I spread my legs, “Unless ya wanta miss breakfast…”

He bit his lip as he looked at me, “I think I’ll pass on the breakfast ‘n bed part…” He nervously said before swiftly leaving, and I just lie there with my legs spread wide apart. I guess I was just going to wait for him to return after eating. Maybe dessert was something he would’ve liked.

And so there I lay for about twenty minutes till he finally returned.

“Want some dessert? It’s all right ‘ere for ya, Johnny.”

He shook his head, “Rather not, Paulie, I ain’t in the mood, luv.”

I pouted. “Ya such a par’y poop’a, Johnny.”

“Only for ye, Macca.” He kissed my forehead before beginning to undress. Excitement built up inside of me after thinking we were actually going to do this. The excitement pretty much killed itself after I realized he was just getting undressed to get dressed again in his daily clothes, and this was evident because he had gone over to the drawer and pulled some fresh clothing items out.

“Johnny!”

“What, Macca, dear?”

“Come on! This feels like a tease!”

“What do ya mean?”

“Ya fucking undressed and I have ta lay here lookin’ at ya body. Ya damn tease.”

“Then don’t look, simple.”

“Really expect me ta not look at a hot bod in front o’ me?”

“I mean…no, but it’s ya fault if ya can’t look away.”

“Shut it, Johnny. I’d bet if I was undressed ya would be lookin’ at me the entire time.”

After he was dressed and after the conversation we had, I finally got out of bed and followed him out to the living room, where we picked up our instruments and began to sing the song we were working on that week. I always thought it’d be the biggest best seller on the market. Everyone would enjoy it, and that’d make me happier than ever.

But unfortunately, it was all ruined when Ringo came into the room. He just gave us that quirky smile as he sat down on the couch near us. I just wanted to break his damn teeth so badly. I didn’t want that dumb fuck near me at all.

I stopped the music, “What do ya want, Ringo?”

“I jus’ wanta hear ya play, is all. I ain’t doin’ nothin’ bad.”

“Go play with George or somethin’. We don’t want ya here.”

“Why not, Paul?”

I had almost said that we didn’t want to be bothered by a moronic twat such as himself, but instead I just told him that we didn’t wish to have an audience, and that we just wanted to practice alone. He only nodded and left us, and John and I looked at each other with smirks on our faces.

Driving Ringo away was so easy, it was extraordinary.

The only hard part was blocking out his fucking laugh and voice. He sounded absolutely retarded whenever he laughed or spoke. I had always assumed he had some fucking disability or something. He acted like a fucking animal all the time.

Ringo was something else entirely. I didn’t even see him as human; he was like a dumb ol’ dog that hadn’t any brains beneath that thick skull of his. I’d just leave him leashed to a pole and leave and never come back. He’d just be left there to starve and die, and wouldn’t that be a miracle for the human population.

I guessed we’d just have to deal with him until we were able to put our plan into action, and by George, it was going to be the worst thing to have ever happened to Ringo.

I hoped you had prepared yourself, you fucking twat, it would be something you’d always deserved.

Chapter Text

❥ JOHN’S POV

I think the worst part about our plan was that it wasn’t too big. The only things we had down were to make Ringo feel bad, and to make him cry. We hadn’t drawn anything out yet, and we had only thought about this five days ago, so maybe it was normal to not have anything worked out at all yet. We prayed it would work, and we’d succeed in feeling the pleasure of that dope finally breaking as we towered over him like the superiors we were.

Paul worked the most on it, and he had already jotted down some major things we could possibly do. They all seemed pretty severe, and the severity made me think he was some kind of criminal. Since that wasn’t going to work out, I had him throw everything he wrote out the window. We didn’t need something like “kicking him till his back breaks” or “stomping on his nose till it goes flat”.

So, there I stood, towering over him as he sat in a chair at his desk. I watched everything he wrote, and it wasn’t as severe as the last stuff. He seemed rather angry as he put his thoughts down upon the paper. When I noticed his fist shaking, I placed my hand on his, making him stop. I leaned down, kissing his neck as I ran my thumb over the back of his hand. “Are you okay, Paulie?”

“’m fine.”

“Don’t lie to me, Macca, I’m not blind, I can see ya fist shakin’.”

He sighed angrily, “It’s just…fucking Ringo. I hate him so fucking much. He’s just unbelievable. I want to fucking stomp on him, I don’t care what body part it is. I could crush his genitals beneath my foot. I could break his teeth…” He started listing off the things he could do, and it sounded disgusting. I stopped him by squeezing his hand.

“Macca, darling, ya really need ta calm yaself. I know ya hate him, and so do I, but ya can’t be thinkin’ ‘bout these things. It’s really not a good mindset to possess. I think you should take a break or somethin’. How about you and I go lie down for a bit, eh?”

He shook his head, and I instantly picked him up, and he let out a surprised squeak, dropping the pencil onto the desk. I turned him around, throwing him over my shoulder and taking him over to the bed. I lay him down onto it, and slowly got on top of him, wrapping my arms around him. I kissed his neck again, over and over.

“J-Johnny…” He wrapped his arms around my neck. I smiled gently, placing my hand up his shirt and massaging his side.

“I love you, Macca…”

“I l-love you…t-too…”

It was rather fun watching my Paulie slowly lose himself beneath me. It was like I was stealing all his energy away from him, just with my fingertips. He had sensitive skin, maybe which was the case. Who knows?

His anger seemed to be dying down more and more as my hand explored his upper body. I wasn’t looking to do…y’know, I just wanted him to relax. I really prayed he wasn’t getting turned on by this, because that’d be bad for me. We had done it before; I was just not in the mood for anything such as that.

I could feel his breath on my neck, and all I could do was lie on top of him and hold him close. I looked at him, into those pretty eyes of his. “You feel better now?”

His cheeks flushed red and he closed his eyes before slowly nodding. All of a sudden, his head came back up, and he breathed out, “J-Johnny…”

I was about to ask him what he wanted, until his hand suddenly found its way to the back of my head, and he pushed my head down, and my lips touched his. At first, I was going to pull away, but seeing how badly he really needed this by him literally clawing at my arms, I decided to just give it to him. I kissed him back, and as a bonus, even gave him a little thrust, and I heard him gasp.

I sighed as he started to thrust against me, his crotch rubbing against mine. He then pulled away. “J-J-Johnny! Mmm! I need you…”

I could feel arousal deep within my gut. I thrust back against him, and we rocked against each other. I bit my lip as I hid my face in his neck, panting. I tried not to think of the bulge beginning to form between my legs. We might as well have just made each other mess our boxers, that’s all we could really do, I certainly didn’t want to get caught while inside him. Maybe we could another time.

“Johnny…Johnny…f-feels so good…ah…” He whimpered as I latched onto his neck to keep quiet. His moans were turning me on more. He wrapped his arms around my neck and his legs around my waist. Fuck, I was getting too aroused by this. I rubbed faster against him in an attempt to get it over with as fast as possible before someone walked in on us. He cried out, and I felt a wet spot against my bulge, and I knew just what it was. I continued to rub until I finally released.

I collapsed on top of him, letting go of his neck. “Doin’ well, luv…?”

He slowly nodded, breathing softly. I gently kissed his neck, “We should probably change our underwear…”

I got off of him, walking over to the dresser and pulling my pants down. I quickly changed into a fresh pair, taking the dirty one to the laundry. I prayed George wouldn’t notice the stains.

--

I lie on the couch, watching the old telly. I could feel my eyes grow droopy. I think it was from what Paul and I did earlier. I put my arms behind my head, closing my eyes. Before I could even start drifting off, Paul’s voice made my eyes shoot open.

“Johnny! Johnny!” He ran towards me, practically pouncing on me.

I gasped, “What, Paul? Are you horny again?”

“No!” His face went red. He then leaned over, whispering into my ear. “I’ve figured everything out, John. I know what we can do. I’ve done it, I’ve thought about every little thing we’d be able to do. We can finally put this into action.”

“Okay, okay, then go ahead and tell me about it.”

He showed me the piece of paper, and it was just drawings along with writing. Paul was a good artist, but these seemed to be rather shaky and some lines were smudged. He must’ve been real angry while doing it all.

“Macca, this is all pretty good…but the last one seems a little terrible…”

“What do you mean?”

“You drew yourself snapping Ringo’s spine?”

“Just a joke.”

I looked at him, biting my lip. I was beginning to question Paul’s mental state. He couldn’t form a plan without drawing or saying something about hurting Ringo physically in some way…something that was severe. I didn’t know why this was, but I never expected my sweet little Paulie to think of or do such a thing. It was like the unimaginable. The things he did were just so unexpected. He seemed rather…strange.

Paul kissed me on my lips. I cleared my throat, “A joke, eh? Either you have a real gore-y sense of humor, or you actually mean this.”

“You know me, John. I’d never actually mean to do such a thing.”

I breathed softly, “Paul…”

“Mmm?”

“Are you okay?”

He ran a hand through my hair, brushing his lips across mine. “Of course I am, Johnny.”

It took me a while to realize I was making a face at him, and I knew this when he brought it up: “Johnny, baby…what’s that face for?”

“Nothin’, Paulie.”

“Mmm…is my big boy keeping secrets?”

I scratched the back of his neck. “No…I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Okay, alright, love you, Johnny…I hope we can do this. I can’t wait to make him feel like absolute shit.”

That’s what I was afraid of. That was what Paul was fixated on. He wanted to hurt Ringo. He wanted to break him, weaken him. He wanted to hurt Ringo until he was just a coward. I didn’t know how this was going to go. It was just so…grotesque. What was up with Paul? What was he doing this for? What was wrong in that little mind of his? I couldn’t understand why he was being so violent. Sure, I had kicked Ringo in the back, but I didn’t mean to do anything too severe to him. I loved Paul, but he seemed a little strange.

He nuzzled my neck. “You’re such a handsome man…”

“Mmhm…”

“So, how about we do it tonight? What time is it?”

I looked over at the clock. “Quarter till four, luv.”

“How about we go to the store and gather up everything we need, Lennon?”

“Really now? We’ll be bombarded by women.”

He quickly bit my neck, and my eyes widened a little. He sucked on my skin, and I rolled my eyes. He finally let go of it, “Mmm…maybe if I leave a love bite, they’ll know who you belong to.”

--

We entered the store, and we were disguised. We had scarves covering the bottom halves of our faces, and we wore hats. We wore some big ass trench-coats, and we probably looked like criminals. We gathered up all the necessary supplies. These included: rope, sedatives, a blindfold, and some matches. It obviously wasn’t much, and I’m sure the cashier gave us a real funny look.

We left, going right back to the house. We needed to use the sedatives first. That was the biggest part so far. So, I set to work, grabbing a cup out of the cabinet and filling it up with water. I dropped a few sedatives in, hoping this was actually going to work. I just had to find Ringo now. I went on an investigation around the house, searching for him. I had finally come across him lying on his bed, playing with his stuffed animal.

Tammy was his most prized possession. It was given to him by his grandmother before she passed away. Tammy was a dirty old ragdoll that looked like a cat. Ringo slept with it every night, and he’d always leave it up against his pillow on his bed. He said it was Tammy’s pillow, and Tammy didn’t appreciate being moved about. He loved that doll, and he’d often get frustrated whenever somebody attempted to touch it. He never took it anywhere, however, fearing it’d get lost. The doll was rather dirty, but he didn’t mind a bit. It was from years ago, and it was the only thing that kept him happy the most.

I cleared my throat, and that was when he looked up at me. “Oh, hey John.”

“Where’s George?”

“He went out I think. He wanted to go have some alone time.”

“Ah, I see. Well, how are ya feelin’, Ringo?”

“Good, I guess. I think I’m still alive.”

I could only nod. I sat down on the edge of his bed. “Ya thirsty, pal? I thought ya might wanta drink.”

“I haven’t drank much today, John, so I guess I am. What’s in the cup, eh?”

“Just water. We ran out of milk, remember?”

“Oh yeah, I used up the last of it…” He laughed, grabbing the cup from me.

I intensely watched as he drank the water, biting my lip nervously. What if the sedatives didn’t work? I don’t think Ringo would’ve accepted another cup of water. He’d be quenched after this. The only thing I could feel in my stomach was guilt. It was rising upwards, and it began to plague my mind as Ringo handed the cup back to me, and I placed it onto the nightstand. He looked at me, seeming normal at first. Had they not worked? Would I have to go get another cup?

That wasn’t the case.

I noticed Ringo beginning to visibly weaken, and he kept on blinking his eyes and shaking his head, like he was trying to fight something off. He was then against me, holding me tight. He didn’t even say a single thing while falling asleep. Ringo took it lightly, which was a surprise. Maybe he was already tired before I had drugged him.

I threw him over my shoulder, gingerly heading towards the basement. I opened up the door, going down the stairs, the slight creaks made me believe the stairs were going to collapse under our combined weight. I went deep into the basement, finding an old door there. I knew what it had led to, as Paul had shown me before. It led to an open space. It led to a big room. There was nothing inside except a fire extinguisher, which Paul suggested we put in there. We’d heard that Ringo had gone in there a few times to calm himself down and when he needed space. I really couldn’t blame the fellow; everything seemed to always be overwhelming.

Back upstairs, Paul and I had gone to work gathering up Ringo’s things to take down to the basement. We had to place everything inside a sack. He had so much stuff it was unbelievable. He was a goddamn hoarder.

This was what struck me with guilt the most. What we were going to do to all of his possessions. His small drum set, his photographs, his art supplies…everything he loved. As I stared at Tammy, I could feel my heart sink. I looked into its button eyes, and it felt as if it was staring right back at me, telling me to cease. I knew it was right, but I couldn’t.

I should have backed out in the beginning. I hadn’t thought that I’d feel this guilty, or feel a pang of guilt at all. I had felt guilty after hurting Ringo, but I never had shown how sorry I was. This was all going to be a mistake; I knew it was going to have a terrible ending. Everything was going to go to shit after this, I just knew it.

I cleared my throat as we dumped everything out on the floor in front of Ringo’s unconscious body. I looked at him, and he seemed to be sleeping soundly on the cold, dusty floor. I looked away fast. I wasn’t able to keep even one eye on the man. I could already imagine how he’d look while watching everything.

We arranged every item from biggest to smallest. I stood in front of it, my eyes shifting around to see every bit of my work. I thought I’d done a good job. I looked at Paul, and he only smiled at me as he tied Ringo up and placed the blindfold over his closed eyes.

He placed a box behind the man, placing him against it. Paul had removed all of Ringo’s rings from his fingers and threw them right into that pile. Now, it was time for us to just wait.

Wait for Ringo to awaken to darkness.

--

The sound of a groan made me jump. Ringo had finally awoken. I looked over at him, and he was beginning to squirm in his restraints.

“Hello? Is anybody there? I can’t see.”

Paul moved over to him, grasping the sides of his face. “I’m here, so is John.”

“Paul? Where are we?”

“The basement, Ringo.”

“The basement, eh? What’re we down ‘ere for? I remember fallin’ asleep against John.”

Paul smirked, undoing the blindfold. He removed it, throwing it onto the floor. He got to his feet, helping the bound man up. He wrapped his arms around him, holding him close and tightly.

“Like what ya see, Richie?” Paul asked. There was something off in his tone.

I think Paul was beginning to scare me.

Ringo nodded, “Pleasant surprise, ya arranged all my things. But why am I all tied up?”

Paul smirked. “Oh, you’ll see.”

He turned his gaze to me, and an evil grin appeared on his face. He silently told me to start. I looked at Ringo, an innocent look in those blue eyes of his. He hadn’t a clue what was about to happen. I brought a shaky hand to my pocket, pulling out the box of matches. I nervously opened it, pulling a single match out. I looked back at them, and Paul wiggled his eyebrows, telling me to continue. I looked at Ringo again, and he still seemed confused by what was happening.

“John, why do ya have matches? Are we going to burn the room down or somethin’? George will be real mad if we do.” Ringo asked, and I felt my heart drop. I nearly let go of the match. I didn’t even know if I could do this or not. Ringo’s innocence and stupidity was too much for me. I knew Paul wanted me to do this. It was a hard choice.

“Come on, Johnny. Come on, baby. Do it, Johnny.” Paul started encouraging me to do the act. I tried to block out his voice, but it was too difficult. I ended up striking the match over the box, holding it outwards towards the pile.

That’s when Ringo began to panic. “John! Hey, John! Don’t! Please don’t! Please! I-I...please! John!” He began to shout at me, fully aware of what was about to happen. I looked at Paul, who held him even closer.

I whispered that I was sorry before dropping the match, setting the whole pile ablaze.

Ringo let out a loud cry, his breathing quickening. He screamed and cried, everything coming out as just gibberish. He twist and squirmed in Paul’s tight grasp. I bit my lip, covering my ears. I looked away from them. I couldn’t bear to look at either of them.

When I finally mustered the courage to look back, Ringo was on the floor. He was crying out for Tammy, who was slowly burning, breaking apart. I was flooded with guilt. I had done something I never thought I’d ever do. This was it. We were doing it. This was actually happening.

Ringo wheezed and shouted when Paul kicked him in the side as hard as he could. I let out a soft cry as I watched Paul beat the fuck out of the smaller man. He kept on kicking him in the sides, stomping on his genitals, chest, and even his back. I was fucking horrified. I couldn’t look, I felt light-headed.

Ringo soon began to cough up blood; his breathing had turned into small wheezes and short breaths. After Paul had punched him in the nose, it too began to bleed. Blood trickled down Richie’s chin. After I’ve finally had enough, I grabbed Tammy from the fire, or what was left of it, and threw it at the wall, running over to it and stomping on it until the fire went out.

After doing so, I ran right over to Paul and pushed him away. He grabbed onto my shoulder, his other hand going right to my hair and grabbing onto it hard. He smiled at me, looking like he was full of pride. I grabbed onto his sides, squeezing hard. My lip was bleeding from how hard I had bitten it.

“Johnny, oh Johnny, fuck me!”

“PAUL, WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“Please fuck me!” Our lips locked when he pulled me forward, and he started to thrust against me. I pulled away from him fast, shoving him away.

“What in the fuck has gotten into ya?!”

“Johnny, please! We worked so hard! We need a reward!” He already had a bulge between his legs, and I could’ve sworn it formed by just watching Ringo suffer. There was a wet spot there as well. Was this really happening? It seemed like such a bad fucking dream. I really hoped I was tripping on acid or something. This couldn’t be real.

“Come on, Johnny!”

“No!”

“Yes!”

“SHUT UP, MACCA!”

“Fuck me, John! Fuck me like the slut I am! Let’s cum on ‘im!”

I had had enough, and I shoved him again, and he fell against the wall hard. I towered over him, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and shaking him hard. I’d bet if I continued to roughly shake him back and forth, he’d get fucking whiplash. As the fire began to grow in size, I let go of Paul and looked around for something to put it out with. I spotted a fire extinguisher, grabbing it and immediately putting the flames out.

The flames had gone, and I saw everything, or what was left of everything. It was all either completely black, or some parts of items were gone, had been turned into ashes. I stood there, staring at the mess before me. I could smell it. It smelled…strange.

I dropped the fire extinguisher, moving to Ringo. I shakily untied the ropes, releasing him from the restraints. His entire body was just shaking. He seemed so out of breath, and his eyes were red and puffy. The drool and blood that trickled down his face mixed together, along with the tears and sweat. His entire face was red. It was just bloodied and bruised and swollen. I couldn’t believe Paul would do that to him.

Why did he hate him so much?

I didn’t know what to do after that. I ran a hand through his hair. “I’m so fucking sorry…”

Paul approached, his hand between his legs, rubbing himself. I slowly looked up at him, ignoring the action he was doing. I gritted my teeth, glaring at him. I got to my feet, “You fucking fool.”

“What?”

“What do you mean ‘what’?”

He moved closer, moving his free hand in between my legs and rubbing over my genitals. I bat his hand away, bringing my hands up to his neck. My hands found themselves around it, and began to squeeze. He let out a moan, his tongue lolling as I choked him. He seemed to be enjoying that shit.

I choked him until his breath caught, and he was struggling. I threw him to the floor, and he landed with a loud thud. I kicked him in the leg before walking over to the pile. I spotted Tammy, who was almost gone. Half of the body was missing. I picked it up, bringing it over to Ringo. I put it down beside him, sitting down in front of him as I stroked his hair gently. Paul walked away to go sit in the corner, and I didn’t care about it.

I just stared at Ringo.

What would George have thought about this?

Chapter Text

Due to the negativity I have received on the last chapter, I will be disabling anonymous commenting for a while. The last two comments I have received on chapter four are extremely rude, and they have been making me feel like shit all day. I want criticism and feedback, and this isn’t either of those at all, this is just people being rude as fuck.

If you don’t like the content within the fic, then leave. The back button exists, USE IT.

I know chapter four is hard to read, and that it’s gross. That’s the fucking point. They were going to do something so bad to Ringo that it’d make him break.

This fanfiction is NOT innocent. No matter how much fluff or hurt/comfort is in it, it’s still brutal. It’s supposed to be gross, it’s supposed to be disgusting. This is why I’m writing it.

I enjoy dark topics, and so do many others.

Just because you don’t like it, doesn’t mean I’m not going to continue doing what I love.

READ THE TAGS BEFORE YOU READ THE FIC ITSELF.

This fic takes place in the CARTOON universe. This is NOT the real thing. This is something the Beatles cartoon animators would have never gotten away with.

ANYTHING can happen in a cartoon universe.

Call me butthurt all you want, but I just wanted to get how I felt out. This has been bothering me.

If you’d like to give me your feedback and you do not have an AO3 account, which I’d very much appreciate it if you did give feedback, please consider adding me on discord if you have one: Shithead Lennon#5949

Thank you for reading, and I hope you are anticipating the next chapter of this fanfiction. I’m not going to stop doing what I love just because two people want to badmouth me for what I write.