Fifty Shades Of George | Starrison [❓]

f o u r

a/n RIGHTO GEORGE'S POV-ish WE GO !!! *pirates of the caribbean theme song plays in the background* (what the fuck)

Like I said back in the author's note, he's a bit out of character. I mean, idek I don't really know Geo personally so there's prolly fifty shades of him in fifty fics so

anywhore playlist suggestions?? i'll kiss ur sandals if u give me songs :D

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George Harrison was currently lighting a cigarette when Ringo bursted through the doors, face all flushed and his hair was messy and windblown.

"What did I tell you last time, doll?"

"D-Don't be late again?" He squeaked, biting his lip.

"And what did you do?"

"I-I—" His breathe hitched in his throat as George neared closer, Ringo's lips parting temptingly open as if he wanted George to kiss him. "— I'm really sorry sir I won't do it again I s—" His jumbled words were cut of by George's mouth crashing against his, making his back thud against the doors.

When he refused to open his mouth, George's hands slid under his shirt. His warm fingers pinched his nipples, causing Ringo to give out a gasp, hitching in his throat before ending up in a whine. George ran his tongue hungrily over his full lips, before catching them between his teeth.

Ringo whimpered, fingers tugging his dark locks, earning a groan from him. When George pulled back, his mouth was a bright, cherry red, looking all pretty with that pink blush that dusted his cheeks. His blue eyes were dilated, looking oh so needy and helpless with George's knee in between his legs.

"You're such a naughty little boy," He growled, hands going from his chest down to his ass, hands squeezing them possesively. "You want this, huh, doll? You want daddy to fuck you right now against the door like the little slut you are?"

"Sir—" He moaned as George's teeth caught his ear. "Ah- Ah– S-Sir please—" He whined low in his throat, and George pressed him right against the door again.

"Say it."

"Da– oh," Ringo threw his head back, mouth falling open the moment George sucked on his neck. "Fuck— Sir!"

"Sir!"

George's face shot up. There stood Ringo, looking embarrased with his cheeks flushed bright red. He was biting his lip, the redness of it making George wanting to just haul him over that bloody desk of his and drop him down to his lap. But, of course, he had more self-control than that.

"You— Um—" As if it was humanely possible, Ringo's face grew redder. "You c-called my name so I—"

"Right." George uttered, clearing his throat. His boner, fucking hell, wasn't really going down but thank god for his current position (which was currently hunched over, with his mahogany desk helping hide the darn thing).

Great. Just great. What is he going to think of me now? I'm going to be his weird, pervy boss who thinks of wet dreams of him—

"Are you, uh, o-okay there sir?"

Fuck no. And I'm going to blame you for that and punish you for it, haul you over this fucking desk of mine and spank the shit out of you, babydoll.

"Actually," George's voice came out huskier than he intended. "I could use some help."

Ringo's eyes grew wide. "Sir—"

"George." Or daddy, whichever you prefer. "We're in private, aren't we?"

"I-I guess so.." He bit his lower lip. Oh god, how can he look so terribly innocent and terribly hot at the cute time?

"How would you like a raise?"

"Si– George," He corrected himself. "I... I need you to be h-honest with me."

"What is it, doll?"

He started fidgeting with his fingers again.

"Why did you make me your secretary? I know you a-answered this already but..." He wet his lips nervously. "I'm not efficient, I'm practically tardy every week, I'm not—"

"Ringo."

He looked up, cheeks turning red again with embarrasment.

"I-I mean I'm not u-ungrateful or anything, si– George," He stumbled out. "It's just that, why me?"

An almost guilty look formed in George's face, but it faded away as quickly as it came.

"You should really stop undermining yourself, Ritchie. You're a great employee– really– sure, you're late 50% of the time but we can't really change that now, can we, doll?"

"I—" Ringo pressed his lips together. "You called me Ritchie."

George raised an eyebrow. "Something wrong with it, love?"

"No."

"Good." George glanced at his watch. "How about we grab something to eat. My treat."

"Oh that's not really necessary sir–"

"George. And besides, it's my treat. I've got enough money to buy half the restaurants here in London." George spoke, and he swore Ringo's eyes twinkled with what seemed like a slight sliver of fear mixed with surprise.

Ringo's lips parted in shock. "Are you kidding?"

George smirked. "Not in the slightest, doll."

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Do you get that feeling that,,, you see all those fancy shmansy things like Chanel and all that and you wished you had a sugar daddy

Like not necessarily referring to those old men with yachts ew but like imagine if you had a sugar daddy

*whispers* Be careful when you go on dating sites tho

Anywhore I hope this chapter was up to par and pretty much readied you for the soon to be coming smut