#John lennon x paul McCartney | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

iheartjohnlennon · 9 months

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'Let me take you down'

London, '66

Summary: John and Paul see the same so John and Paul share the same (you).

Word count: 3,054

Tags: Smut, Threesome, Unrequited Love

The lounge was adorned with light, drugs, and music. The holy trinity of joy.

The light was more a metaphorical one. But no one had caught your eye, personally.

You had caught a few though.

Through your peripheral vision, you saw John Lennon slightly sauntering towards you.

A cig in hand, flirtation on standby and a smile that would make most of his thirteen-year-old army piss themselves with happiness.

Finally, you thought to yourself.

He can now stop undressing you with his eyes or making passing comments.

You knew he wanted you, you've known that for a while now.

You also know of his other half, his bandmate, Paul. He gives you eyes as well.

But you try not to pay Paul any romantic mind because he gouges his eyes out for any woman he sees anyways.

"Well 'ello love." John speaks in a chipper tone, he sits beside you, not even asking if the seat is taken.

His cockiness shines through as he rubs against you, you turn fully to look at him.

"John." You don't give anything up, you won't make it easy.

"Why so quiet tonight, hm?" He strokes your chin, he seems disappointed you aren't on your knees from the first hello.

You scoffed, "Quiet? We've been speaking for seconds John."

"Ye know wha' I mean.." He rolls his eyes, he didn't like how dismissive you were sometimes.

John always had a simple philosophy of flirt then fuck, which clearly didn't seem to work a hundred percent of the time.

"Why's a bird like you, 'ere alone?" How classic.

"Because I came here alone."

"Well, no shit."

"Don't get rude."

"Not gettin' rude lovely." He took a puff of his cig.

A voice interrupted your little squabble, it was a familiar one, "I reckon he's tryin' to call ya beautiful."

You saw the charming face that matched.

"Which ya are by the way," Paul added with a smirk.

He stood before you both. His hair was dishevelled and he smelled delicious.

"Alrigh' McCharmly she gets it, fuckin' 'ell." John spoke with an acute bitterness in his tone. He wasn't prepared to let you go yet, especially not to Paul.

"Ha, well, anyways I came here to ask if yous wanted to smoke some grass."

So that's what that aroma was, the one that hypnotized you to no end.

And 'yous'. He wanted you both.

As much as you preferred Paul's company over John's, you were intrigued by this offer of having both of them at the same time, smoking.

"Wha', you wanna smoke 'ere?" John questioned.

"Not really, follow me." Paul palmed your hand in his with a warm smile as John placed his hand on your back possessively.

They both ushered you through the bar area upstairs, into some sort of chamber.

It was abundantly less lively than the former and had harmonious jazz playing in the background as opposed to some soft rock.

Everyone looked like they were on something, good and bad. You felt intimidated. John and Paul knew this scene more than you, even though you came to the lounge often.

"Welcome!" Paul began, "Make yerselves at home I suppose, I'll be back."

You and John were oddly close on the sofa. Physically because his arm was loosely around your waist and emotionally because his eyes were intensely on yours.

Maybe it was the music, the lighting, or his flirting that made you yearn for more than just his gaze.

He took your chin in his fingers, "Yer beautiful, ye know that?"

"Do you need me to know that?"

"I'll tell you every day if I can."

John shifted his head, it was on a tilt as if he was going to kiss you. You were happy to oblige, but a vigorous Paul interrupted you both. Again.

He strode in with a plastic baggy filled with weed, rolling paper, and a bottle of Jack Daniels. This could be an undoubtedly long night.

Paul placed himself beside you, now you were nicely in between the pair.

"We'll share one blunt and do a pass around." John affirmed.

"Yeah, an' Y/N will roll 'em 'cause she has tiny, cute fingers." You adored the way Paul tickled your hands after saying that. You sent him a smile and he sat back, hand tracing circles on your back.

You didn't smoke weed often but didn't find it hard to roll the blunt.

"Good girl." John whispered, giving you a smirk.

"Have a light?" You asked no one in particular.

"Sure thing."

Paul reached into his pocket and fished out a light, he held the blunt between your lips childishly and held your jaw as it lit.

You took in a puff and immediately felt inundated with pleasure and simultaneous dizziness.

You sat down but felt like you were stumbling on a circus wire. You turned to John and Paul, their faces were now just attractive blurs.

You cleared your throat heavily after inhaling more.

"Ladies first." John chuckled.

"Easy there, you ok?" Paul asked patting your back.

"Absolutely sublime." You sneer whilst inhaling even more. You could feel your face getting hot and your vision getting more skewed.

You had enough and passed it on to Paul. This was nothing new and as he took a puff he looked at you with contentment.

His hand was still on your back, rubbing up and down.

He passed the blunt onto John.

He held your shoulders and began with a lustrous look in his eyes, "I want to kiss ya, lemme kiss ya Y/N?"

You could only nod in response before Paul lay a warm kiss on your lips, his tongue exploring yours as he replaced John's arm with his.

"Slag." John mumbled.

Your noses touched, your tongues tasted and your chests collided as Paul kept his devoted pace.

John watched you and Paul make out whilst longingly taking swigs from the whiskey.

John was watching with a peculiar fixation. He loved the way you groaned as Paul bit your lip, he loved the way you squirmed with each wet kiss.

This was peculiarly turning him on.

Paul met John's eyes for a moment whilst in the middle of necking on with you.

He felt bad for the fella, he was in this cuckold, which wasn't a cuckold because John isn't with you, but still.

Paul stopped kissing you, you sighed craving more of him.

"Can I share ya?" Paul mused to your bewilderment.

"Hm?"

"Sorry, I meant can we share ya?"

"Hm-".

You were overwhelmed with such a flabbergasting joke. You were stopped in your tracks by such a crude joke.

Or?

Was Paul asking for a ménage à trois right now?

John sniggered from beside you, "He's not good with his words, is he? It seems like he wants a threesome, well- we."

This was convenient. You could all find somewhere private, knew each other well and were as horny as it seems.

Paul spoke, "Ya know, ya really don't have-"

"I want to." Your eagerness came out as you interrupted him to accept.

Paul put on a grin. He had you where he wanted you.

"We'll take this somewhere more private after you neck on with John."

You did somewhat like John. And you supposed he would have fucked you eventually, but certainly not in this circumstance.

Paul playfully pushed your head towards John's and whispered, "C'mon baby ya know ya want to, I see the way ya look at him."

Before you could even formulate a response, John was already on you. He grasped the back of your head and immediately placed his lips on yours.

His tongue and teeth collided with yours, you could taste each drop of whiskey on him.

Paul smoked and watched with lidded eyes.

John gripped your waist with both hands, his kissing was passionate and abrasive. He groaned, he was properly getting off to this. He got rougher, pushing you into the sofa.

"Alrigh', alrigh' don't kill 'er." Paul cracked up whilst separating you both.

Paul's kiss contrasted with John's. Your lips felt all puffy after John, he looked at you smugly. You couldn't tell the difference between John making you dizzy and what you were smoking.

Paul's task was over and the men on either side of you gave each other a knowing look.

You all rushed down the stairs quicker than a blink.

They were all over you the moment the driver set his eyes on the road. You didn't care if the driver was watching, or hearing. You had two pairs of hands on you. Yanks and grabs were all you felt the whole way through. Paul was in one ear and John was in the other.

Paul attacked your neck with smooches and sucks, you giggled girlishly at the feel.

John buried his face in your breasts and all but tried to leave marks on your chest.

You felt their hands travel down further, like waist down further. You halted their efforts to dually finger you in the back of some car and cautiously mumbled, "Later, later.."

A triad of soft moans and silly giggles continuously echoed in the car, you were sure the driver was sick of you all now.

"Are we nearly there yet?" You said dramatically.

"We arrived minutes ago you daft girl." John laughed.

Jesus, now you were dazed.

Paul began, "Shall we?"

The driver didn't bother to say goodbye and drove off with a scowl.

You all sounded hysterical whilst rushing to Paul's hotel room.

The hallway was closing in on you. Paul had his key in hand and fumbled with the lock, John had your ass in his.

"Any slower McCharmly?" You jested.

"I'll go faster when it's convenient Y/N."

With his dirty quip and the push of a door, you eventually entered.

Before you could even close the door behind you the duo was still all over you. You felt so many hands it was as if you were crowd surfing. They were taking small bits of clothing off, like ties and shoes, and somehow still found focus on you.

"We aren't even on the bed yet you animals." You whined.

"I'll 'ave ye anywhere." John retorted.

"A bed? Let's get on the bed then princess." Paul cooed, bringing you up to your feet properly.

You couldn't even get on the bed without feeling gropes and pinches all over you. You got on top of the thing and slouched back, in a relaxed position.

Paul made his way on top of you and John got on the side, laying by you.

Paul confidently took off your articles of clothing. He carelessly tossed your heels on the floor and began working to get your tights and skirt off.

John almost immediately mouthed you in that same rough manner again. He held onto the back of your head, making sure you wouldn't pull back. He took his kiss lower, to your jaw. Lower, to your neck. Lower, to your chest. He dragged your shirt up, so eager to have a taste he couldn't even pause to unhook your bra.

He sucked and fondled your breasts. You let out chortled moans as the ticklish splendour of him using his teeth to nibble and his tongue to swirl drove you over the edge.

"Fuck John-" You seized his hair in your hands, raking through it, drawing him closer. He swapped sides and moved onto the other breast.

The way your body writhed as John sucked you off made it fidgety for Paul to get your bottom half off. He managed in the end and wasted no time in taking an interest in your silk panties.

"Ooo, these are pretty... pretty Y/N.." He marvelled, tracing a maddening thumb over your clit.

As John proceeded with his kissing assault to your top half, Paul took his head to your lower regions. He licked your clit through the panties and teasingly gave it a kiss.

Then you felt Paul pull your panties aside. He slipped a finger into you and began a come-hither motion inside of you whilst also giving you little flicks with his tongue.

You frolicked around in ecstasy, you were reaching a boiling point from having both successes on your cunt at the same time. You could've cum from this alone, but you comprehended this was going to be a long night.

Your moans only rose louder, they turned into cries, you could feel yourself pulsing. Paul is damned good with his mouth.

He moved his head off you, leaving you wet and wanting. John also did the same, looking down on you triumphantly.

"Oh Paul...Oh John..." You sighed pleasantly.

The two gave each other another knowing look, you rolled your eyes, "What is it this time?" You flirted.

"Nothin' love, we're jus'...wonderin' ya know." Paul spoke back.

"Wondering about what?" You mused, turning on your stomach.

"How good ya are.." Paul whispered.

"How good I am what?" You question, confused.

John suddenly mocked, "Bloody 'ell Paul, carn't stop speakin' in bloody metaphors can ye?"

"Awe, I think he's just a bit muddled from what he had earlier Johnny." You tittered.

Paul interrupted, "Righ' I'll get to the point then shall I? We wanna take ya from both ends."

"You don't have to present everything like a business proposition Paulie." You laughed, getting into a doggy position.

"Ya are our business Y/N." John enunciated.

Their positions were determined. Paul was behind you and John lay on his back in front of you. You got in between his legs, lowered down on your elbows, and greeted his clothed cock with a kiss.

You could feel him growing stiff as you worked to pull down his trousers, then his boxers.

Before Paul could put anything in, he was working to get fully naked.

John would have preferred fucking you from behind but he felt like the guest star, being all lounged back, receiving attention from your mouth.

You got his trousers off, then his boxers, you received a happy welcome.

He met your eyes and snatched your hair in his hands. "Yer beautiful...so beautiful..." John murmured, stroking a thumb across your lips.

"Isn't she." Paul chirped in, guiding his cock towards your entrance, in a reverie, all imperceptive and seductive.

You practically shivered at the intention, his first thrust was unreal, different to any cock you had felt before, maybe because it was him.

His cock naturally felt more distinct than his fingers. Its thickness caressed your vaginal canal and provided tinges to your G-spot via the tip.

He sped up the moment he got that first feel, moving you forward before you could even fit the latter into your mouth, the impulsive movement causing you to brush your face against his cock as opposed to sucking.

"Mmmph, mmm." Paul moaned.

"Fuck- fuck-" was all you could muster as John watched in amusement. He gave himself a few tugs before discovering great solace in your lips.

He bobbed you up and down, vulgarisms rang from his mouth as you wrapped your lips around the top inches and used your hands to trace what your throat wasn't handling.

"Fuckin' 'ell Y/N...fuckin' 'ell...keep goin' baby, jus' like tha'..." John's head lulled back in fulfilment, he honoured you to high heaven and was for the time thankful Paul was here, as every thrust he gave you caused your moans to vibrate onto his cock.

You were all moaning messes, utterly void of any emotion apart from pleasure and whatever emotion you would call being under the influence.

You were being rag-dolled back and forth and wished for every bit of it.

John's hand got tighter but his once consistent up-and-down movement got sloppier, his hips moved up lightly, trying to get as much of you on his cock as humanely possible.

He was balls deep within your mouth, you were taking in a nose full of his pubic hair. "Yer goin' to make me cum- Jesus Christ Y/N!" His words were still riddled with praise and hastiness as his free hand palmed your tits. He grunted as each movement he made caused the sensitive tip to touch the back of your throat.

You relished in providing John pleasure.

Paul had only gotten harsher, the space was mainly filled with the moist sounds of Paul penetrating you, the viscosity you two had produced felt mouthwatering.

"Ya like it when I go faster don't ya? Tell Paulie you like it when he goes faster." He uttered.

His strokes were paired with that voice off his and as he arrived close, he all but cooed, "Like tha' Y/N? Like tha' baby?"

You turned your head back at him for a moment, he greeted you with a cocky, yet lovely smile. His hair was all messy and he was flushed with colour.

You could feel him precisely hitting and caring for every nerve inside of you, with his hands tugging on your hips and his pelvis meeting your ass.

And as much as you rasped out John's name, you couldn't help but pull him out of your mouth, only subtly, just to stammer out Paul's.

You felt an exhilaration coming from all senses. John let out a definitive moan, finally releasing into the back of your throat. The consistency made you feel naughty, you spat some back out only to lick it off his cock again, the slight overstimulation drove him mad, "Shit- fuck...Y/N...slag..."

Almost on command, Paul did the same. You felt his cum shooting into you, a liquid bullet. He moved in slightly, shoving his semen to the innermost part of you, moaning yeahs and ooos.

He trembled as you clenched around him.

Paul changed positions off of you and so did John. You all looked like orgasmic chaos.

You felt hit with weakness after that, you signalled to them that maybe it was time to rest.

You were in between them. Paul spooned you, seemingly falling asleep the fastest, probably because he smoked the most.

John was facing you, muttering sweet whatevers and giving you smooches along your chest.

It's as if your souls intertwined with one another as you all simultaneously climaxed, you pondered.

"I love you." You whispered to no one specifically.

#paul mccartney x reader #the beatles #60s rock #the beatles imagine #the beatles x reader #the beatles smuts #john lennon #john lennon x reader #vintage #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr #Spotify

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japage3moondog · 8 months

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Headcanons for the Beatles with a reader who's super sleepy all the time?

as someone who's staying up irresponsibly late and knows they will eat shit for it in the morning, this is very fitting. oh my gosh can you tell how much i love paul.

john lennon

john is the most likely to pour water on you if you look too tired. he will be a dick about it. there are some sweet moments though, like he really enjoys when you rest your head on his shoulder and fall asleep. he likes knowing that you trust him or at least that his shoulders are comfortable.

his solution is to bring you a cup of coffee in the mornings to level the playing field a little. sometimes he will use salt instead of sugar just to keep you on your toes, though a lot of the time you're too tired to notice until you hear him giggling.

paul macca

if you even look a little bit out of it paul will check if you're okay. when he finds out your just tired, he'll let you rest you head on his shoulder or lie in his lap for a quick power nap. he will make fun of you a little bit but nothing more than the playful tease.

as it happens more often, he gets really really worried. he asks you about it but he's very concious of bombarding you with questions so he mostly keeps quiet. when you tell him that it's just how you are, he's so relieved.

george harrison

george 100% indulges your sleepiness. he's a very chill dude and he doesn't mind matching your low energy. he will play you gentle lullabies on the guitar or run his fingers through your hair and just let you rest. he keeps his lullabies for you in the back of his song book and he gets super excited when he's sees you about to nod off and he has a new one. he will sprint to you to be able to play it to you before you get deliriously tired.

ringo starr

ringo is a bit of a loud guy, especially since he's super comfortable around you so it's a bit hard to be sleepy around him when he's yelling and mucking about. when you truly are too exhausted to keep up with him he doesn't really know what to do. he'll try to amp you up but you will definitely end up asleep on the floor. don't worry because he'll carry you to the couch so you can take a nap.

eventually he does start to adjust once he gets a better grasp of your limits and he likes you best when you're well rested, or as well rested as your capable of.

#john lennon x reader #paul mccartney x reader #george harrison x reader #ringo starr x reader #the beatles x reader

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h077yy · 2 months

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#the beatles #paul mccartney #john lennon #I THINK I STOLE THIS FROM PINTEREST #60s #paul mccartney x reader #john lennon x reader

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danciinwith-myself · 7 months

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i finally fucking did it ugghjhjkhjk new chapter here we go pls give me validationnnn

#the beatles #mclennon #beatles fanfiction #the beatles fanfiction #beatles fanfic #john lennon #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr #john lennon x paul mccartney #paul mccartney x john lennon #1960s

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johnlennonofficial · 2 years

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mclennon marriage on mclennon monday :)

#the beatles #beatles #john x paul #mclennon #mclennon monday #john lennon #john lennon x paul mccartney #gay

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johnlennonswifey · 9 months

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Since I haven’t been posting, I’ve decided I’ll make a little list of some of my favorite fics!!

🎸= All time fav

——

THE BEATLES-

John Lennon

70s!John x Reader 🎸

Mustache John x Reader

Paul McCartney

Paul x Reader (love letter) 🎸

Paul x Reader (Part 2 of 2)

George Harrison

Jealous!George x Reader 🎸(literally my fav fic ever)

Comfort!George x Reader

George x Reader (somewhat Friends to lovers?)

Ringo Starr

Teddy Boy!Ringo x Reader

Ringo x Assistant!Reader

Ringo x Reader (fluffy)

Ringo x Reader (Married, dinner with parents)🎸

QUEEN-

Roger Taylor

Roger x Reader (childhood friends to lovers)🎸

Roger x Reader (fluff)

Roger x Reader (fluff and more,(Roger gets hurt)) 🎸

John Deacon

John x Reader (John is readers handyman, I love this fic with all my heart pls read it)🎸

John x Reader (Series, 6/10 parts are out, I definitely recommend reading)🎸

Brian May

Brian x Reader (fluff)

Brian x Reader (Queen becomes a Hit)🎸

Brian x Reader (fluff)

Blurbs-

Beatles Blurb

#the beatles #the beatles x reader #john lennon x reader #ringo starr x reader #the beatles imagine #paul mccartney x reader #george harrison x reader #brian may x reader #john deacon x reader #roger taylor x reader #queen band

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all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney · 1 month

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We've Got Tonight (Paul McCartney x Starr!Female!Reader)

Find Part Two Here

A/N: WOW, is all I can say. The alarming support from those of you reading my work is driving me to write more than EVER right now! I cannot say thank you enough, y'all. Your notes and comments inspire me, so please keep it up if you wanna read more from me!

I'm about to bless y'all with some McBeardy angst, so I hope you all enjoy!!

Also, this fic was inspired by Bob Seger's We've Got Tonight, so I highly recommend listening to the song before and/or after reading this one to get into the vibe of it.

Summary: Paul is in his lonesome after a break up. So are you. You decide to keep each other company.

WARNINGS: ANGST, but it gets sweet in the end. Mentions of cheating, low self esteem. Suggestive actions, mentions/insinuation of sex, but no smut (that'll be saved for a bonus part 2 if anyone's interested in that.)

There is mention of the Beatles' extended family, so if I have any incorrect info in here, I apologize in advance; I didn't want this to become too much of a history lesson.

Also, like my other fics, this one is a NOVEL, so please read when you have a good half hour+ of free time :)

I don't wanna rate this a T, but there is no smut in this, so please just be aware that there is sex mentioned/insinuated, so PLEASE just read at your own discretion. But most of all, enjoy!

Paul was sitting on the sofa in the den, alone with the lights out. He was staring out the window at the night in silence as he sucked down another cigarette and sipped at another glass of scotch.

It was late enough that the world around him was dead sleep, yet he was wide awake, and alone with his thoughts.

He broke it off with Linda. She was a sweet girl, and no one was really quite sure why things ended between them, but they all knew it was a mutual agreement.

Paul really hadn't been taking it well, though. He hadn't been sleeping right for almost a month, and he stared drinking a little more. He didn't want anyone really knowing, which is why he did it in his lonesome.

He wasn't necessarily by himself, because the rest of the Beatles were upstairs in their collective rooms asleep; but what made him feel alone was that alongside the bandmates in their rooms were their families and wives. And Paul just didn't have that.

Usually he would have been rather vocal over something that bothered him so much, but the band felt like recently they'd been clashing, so he wasn't wanting to bother them with something like that.

While Paul finished the final puff of his cigarette and put out the butt in the ashtray on the coffee table, his head snapped to the entrance of the den, where he caught sight of a silhouette in the threshold.

You stopped in your tracks when Paul made eye contact with you. You supposed he'd heard your footsteps.

From what you could tell from the light of the moon shining in through the window, Paul seemed worn out. He rubbed the side of his face with his free hand before wordlessly nodding to you in acknowledgement.

"... I'm sorry to intrude. I didn't know anyone was still awake. I was just needing a drink," you explained quietly. You'd met Paul a few times here and there-- you had to, with Ringo-- or Rich-- your brother, being one of his bandmates and all.

Paul was always kind when you interacted with each other, but you could definitely tell something was a little off about his behaviour this time around.

Rich did mention Paul's break-up to you briefly, but you were going through your own separation, so you were in your own head with your own problems. That's why Rich offered to bring you along with him, Maureen, Zak, and Jason on this trip with the rest of the guys and their families, so you could get away from thinking about your ex.

Unfortunately, the unfamiliar space put you in the same position as Paul; wide awake, in the middle of the night, with a racing mind.

"'S alright," he sighed before drinking the rest of the scotch in his glass and raising to his feet. You watched him move around the room to the alcohol cabinet right outside the kitchen.

He refilled his glass right to the top before wordlessly grabbing a second glass out, tossing in a few ice cubes, and filling it three quarters of the way before sliding it over to you.

Your eyes widened a little, considering you'd actually come down for some water, but maybe this was a sign you were going to want something stronger.

"... Should've asked you if you even like this stuff," Paul stated apologetically when he realized how gentlemanly he was not being. You smiled sadly at him, but picked up the glass anyways.

He matched his glass to the same level as yours before you both gently tapped them together. The sound of the glass chimed for a moment before you and Paul raised the drinks to your lips.

The scotch was harsh, and you surely made an unflattering face as you took a sip, but Paul didn't say anything to you, as he was too busy staring at the ice swirling around in his own glass.

"... What're you doing up so late, if you don't mind me asking?" You asked after a moment of silence, and Paul's big brown eyes met yours for another quiet second as he thought about what to respond with.

He pushed his tongue into his cheek before shrugging and mumbling into his glass, "thinking."

After taking another sip of his drink and staring off into space for a moment or two, he bit his lip, gesturing over to you with his glass.

"And you?" You shook your head, realizing it was your turn to scrounge up an excuse for being wide awake at such an absurd time.

"Can't sleep," you lied.

Paul frowned, motioning you to the sofa he was just sitting on to invite you to sit for a while. After a moment of pondering whether you should really go back to your room, you made up your mind and headed to the sofa, Paul following suit.

There was just something about the way his dark eyes gazed into yours, and behind them was this sadness you just couldn't ignore.

Before he took a seat, you were able to get another good look at him. He was in black jeans, and a green sweater; his day-clothes completely contrasting your pyjama set. He'd grown his hair out since you saw him last, and now he was sporting a full beard.

You always thought he was a good looking guy, but now, without being blinded by any bias, there was really no denying how handsome Paul had become since you seen him last.

In fact, it felt like every time you ended up seeing him next, he always seemed to look better and better, and you weren't quite sure how that was possible.

Paul took the seat right next to you, and he set his drink down on the coffee table, clasping his hands together, elbows on the thighs, and hanging his head.

"To be honest with you... I went through a separation about a month ago. And I don't seem to be handling it well." He finally sighed, turning his head so he was looking at you again. He unclasped his hands and ran his fingers through his beard a few times.

"I'm a romantic, y'know, and I'm not a fan of being so lonely." You nodded your head a little at his words. What was tough was that you didn't have anything encouraging to say to him because you were in the same boat.

Paul swallowed when you remained silent, and then he cleared his throat. He scratched the back of his head nervously as he leaned back into the sofa.

"I'm sorry, I know it's late, and you're probably just wanting to head to bed." He gave a little head nod of understanding as he rubbed his eye with his finger. "You're not here to talk to me about my problems."

It was your turn to set your drink down on the table, turning your attention to him again.

"Well... will that help make you feel better, perhaps?" you watched Paul's eyes meet yours again, and he pressed his lips together tightly in thought.

"... I don't know if there is really much to say," he said after a moment, reaching for his glass again.

"Thank you, though. Was very kind of you to offer somethin' like that."

After he took another sip of his drink, he gestured to you again with his glass.

"... Ringo sort of mentioned you were going through a separation too... You doin' okay?" Paul tried his best to be as inclusive as possible, but it was all rough stuff to talk about, so he treaded carefully.

"I mean..." you trailed off for a moment before responding with a simple, "I'm angry, above all else."

You were honestly taken aback by Paul's question. Rich wasn't necessarily the greatest person to receive comforting advice from, especially when it came to this separation, since he thought so highly of your ex, but you perhaps weren't telling him the whole truth.

But you were definitely surprised he even mentioned your pain to anyone else, let alone his bandmates.

"Kept a lot of heavy things to myself for a long time, it just became exhausting." Now it was your turn to reach for your scotch, still cringing at its strength as you took a generous mouthful.

Paul waited a beat before asking, "would talking about it with me maybe make you feel better?"

"... you really care to know that stuff?" You asked gently for clarification. As mentioned, you and Paul weren't close, you could probably count on one hand the amount of times you met him prior to this moment...

And this was heavy stuff you were seemingly about to share, and you really wanted to make sure he was okay with that.

Paul nodded his head without hesitation, and offered, "'s the least I can do for you for keeping me company so late."

You sighed a deep breath, and took a few more sips from your glass before putting it back down, curling your legs up to your chest, and began.

You told Paul about your ex. You told him about how you were with him for five years, and watched him slowly fall out of love with you, sleep around, and how you struggled with self-image and self-worth for a long time.

You also mentioned how you were the one to leave, but he had no idea you had any strength to do so, so he tried for a long while to guilt you into going back to him.

The difficult things to talk about made you a little more emotional, so you breathed your way through it slowly as to not cry. The drink Paul poured for you was helping you relax at least.

Paul was more than patient with you, and you were grateful for that. At one point during the lengthy conversation, he lit another cigarette, and began offering you drags throughout your story to calm your nerves.

You took those offers graciously, and thankfully.

"... I don't know. I just lay awake every night, wondering if there was something I could have done different so he didn't do what he did."

You were staring out the window with Paul now, taking in just how many stars you could actually see from the den. He took his final puffs of his smoke, the thin silver waves swirling in the air above the both of your heads.

"Sounds like he didn't cherish you enough when you were around," Paul debated gently, shaking his head and putting out his cigarette end in the ashtray next to the others. He picked up his scotch again before mumbling against the rim,

"He's not worth it."

You pulled yourself from the trance of the tiny lights outside to wipe remnants of silent, salty tears off your cheeks, and you used that moment to glance over at Paul, whose nose was still deep in the glass. When he pulled the drink away from his mouth and swallowed, you parted your lips to speak.

"... was Linda worth it?" You didn't mean it in a rude way, but you hadn't met her personally, and you wanted to pry Paul just a tiny bit.

He smiled, but it was bitter. You figured you struck a nerve, and before you could apologize for what you said, he answered simply, with tears glossing his own eyes,

"Yes. She was."

You tilted your head a little and frowned, trying to understand what drove them apart.

"It was just never the right timing. She was ready for things I wasn't in the beginning, and then down the road, when I was seemingly ready for those things, she wasn't. And I didn't want her wasting her time on a life she didn't wanna live, y'know?"

"So she's the one that got away," you mused gently.

"Indeed, she was." Paul nodded a little before finishing the rest of his scotch in his glass, leaning back again, and cradling his head in his hand as he looked at you for another quiet moment, resting his glass in-hand on his thigh.

"... I'm not a bad person, am I?" Those watery eyes never disappeared, and you had to break his sad gaze, opting to reach out and rub his shoulder comfortingly.

"Hey, no. Wasting your time, or her time, like the way my ex did to me, would have made you a bad person, Paul. Saying good bye was the right thing to do."

"Well, I wish that made me feel better," he mumbled, dropping his own gaze to the space between the both of you. He pushed a stray tear away before he thought you could see it, and then scratched at his beard again. You guessed that must have been a habit of his out of stress.

"Something about her made me feel like she was the one. Like we were meant to share the same story; but we always seemed to be on a different chapter,"

He sniffled, but only once. "That being said, was I perhaps too lovestruck in the end to want to believe that her future was meant to be shared with someone else?"

His voice carried so much sorrow, and you knew he needed some kind of advice. It took you a moment or so to find the right words to say to him.

"... Knowing my ex wasn't right for me and the reality of me leaving doesn't make me feel any better. At all." You offered to Paul, before adding,

"... But why should the expectations of those we chose to take out of our life dictate the way we behave today?"

The words that came out of your mouth were surprisingly wise, and you watched Paul's eyebrows knit together as he absorbed what you said.

He focused his sight to you again, a more determined look on his face. Paul knew you were absolutely right. He was a charmer; romancing people was his thing.

There was no denying Linda was special, but when he realized he really had no commitment in romancing her anymore, he finally understood that it was his own thoughts holding him back.

Even if it took him a little longer than expected, he knew you were right. He would recover from this.

"... I think you just opened my eyes and made me realize something... Thank you, y/n, really." He reached up with his free hand after a second, fingers grazing your own hand still on his arm in comfort, showing you his gratitude for your words of advice.

You smiled a little, glad you were able to help him somewhat through his times of trouble as you pulled your hand away.

Paul stood up again, retrieving his empty glass from the coffee table before facing you fully, a more genuine smile beginning to pull on the corners of his mouth, but it was still rather sad.

"I'm grabbing a refill, you too?"

Your sight drifted to your near-empty glass on the table.

Why let tonight go to waste? End so soon?

"Please," you asked, grabbing the glass yourself, but Paul began to tut at you as he grabbed the glass from your fingers.

"Please, I'll get it for you," he insisted, and you watched his slender figure move around the couch to head for the alcohol cabinet another time. He filled them only halfway this time, and on the way back he made a brief stop at the record player near the entrance of the den.

Soft classical music rang out quietly from the player once Paul dropped the needle down onto the vinyl, and he returned to his spot next to you with your two drinks. You thanked him quietly as he passed the glass over to you, and he leaned in a little, raising his drink between the two of you.

"Hello to... new beginnings," he began slowly.

"And Goodbye to false finales," you finished, your glasses tapping together again before you took yet another sip of the drink.

Paul matched your movements, his eyes watching you, even when you turned away to gaze longingly out the window for a moment, basking in the feeling of the gentle music flirting with your ears.

Sure, you and Paul could have went on for the rest of the night discussing your heartbreak, but you decided to drive the conversation elsewhere.

You sighted back to him after a while, his sight unwavering from you. Your eyes locked for just a beat before you decided aloud with a gentle nod,

"... you know, that beard really suits you."

Paul's eyebrows shot up, and his face darkened a little as he bit his lips between his teeth almost nervously.

"... Think so?"

You'd never seen him lack so much confidence when given a compliment before, but instead of pitying him, you almost admired his innocence.

It sounded like he needed to hear a compliment like that.

"Yes," you laughed airily, raising your glass up for another drink. Paul couldn't bite back his smile anymore, so he copied you to mask his lips. You then gestured to your head with the point of your finger as you swallowed the alcohol back easier and easier each time.

"Your hair, too. I think it's a nice length."

Your kind words made Paul feel warm and fuzzy inside, and he placed his scotch back down on the table.

"Well, thanks, Love." He rubbed the back of his neck, and laughed weakly. "I call it my 'Don't View The Mirror For Three Weeks' look."

Paul paused in his moments of self-deprecation to realize he should have maybe complimented you back. He took a second to take another good look at you as he decided what to say, exactly.

"... Y'know, the last time I saw you was a few years ago, now."

You thought for a moment on that. It had been a while since you'd seen him last. You nodded your head as you recalled the day.

"You're right, it has been some time. Christmas, 1966." John and Cynthia had hosted this massive holiday dinner, and everyone's extended family was there.

You were single at the time, and spent dinner conversing with Paul's sister, Ruth, who was at least fifteen years younger than you. There was no introduction made by Paul, she just walked up, introduced herself to you, and made a friend by herself.

She went on and on about school, and music, and how the potatoes were her favourite part of dinner; and you paid attention to everything she had to say, responding with your own opinions and jokes to keep her feeling included amongst the adults at the table.

And Paul, who was seated next to Ruth, couldn't help but overhear your conversations throughout the evening, and he found it rather charming that you treated Ruth with such respect despite her young age.

And after dinner, you and Ruth danced together almost the whole night. She eventually went over to do a little dancing with Paul, and you watched as she bounced around excitedly with her brother, who, for just a moment, locked eyes with you across the sea of dancing guests.

You remember giving him a shy wave with a smile, and he sent a wink back your way before returning his attention to Ruth, spinning her around as she squealed happily.

"... I'm rather fond of that evening," Paul stated simply, the reality of your melancholy evening strongly contrasting with the memories of the wonderful night.

Now you and Paul weren't so young, and this time he was noticing the little lines under your eyes, indicating the dragging march of time slowly catching up to you both.

"And, even after all the years that have passed... you still look as lovely tonight as you did then."

You blushed at Paul's compliment, biting back a stupid grin as you repeated the words in your head.

"And I admire your ever-present kindness," he added on, and you knew he really just meant he showed appreciation for lending him an ear in his time of need.

"More people need to be like you."

"I don't know what to say," you said honestly, settling for a gentle "thank you," in the end. Paul just nodded, unsure if there was anything to say back.

"You know..." you paused for a second, watching as Paul went for another sip from his glass. "It was quite a shame we never got a dance in that night together, just you and me."

Paul was mid sip when you said that, so you continued on.

"The music was great, everyone was in high spirits, and I was maybe too shy to approach you myself and ask you to dance with me. So I guess that's on me." You scratched your elbow as you announced your rather dumb confession to him.

Paul, who was nearly done with his drink now, waited a moment or two in thought, before rising to his feet, and wandering back over to the record player, scotch still in hand.

You tried to watch his movements over your shoulder, but it was really dark. All you knew was that he was changing the music.

The classical tune cut, and the player began to drawl a much slower, more recent song; one you hadn't yet heard.

Paul turned on his heel as he reapproached the sofa, taking the final sip of scotch he had left in his glass before placing it back down on the table, and reaching his hand out for you to take.

"Well, let's not let this dance wait any longer, then, yeah?"

You froze for just a moment, Paul's outstretched hand hung in the air for a few seconds, and your sight moved up to his face, where you noticed his confidence falter just a little.

"Again, I know it's late, and I know your plans for the night surely didn't include me..."

"But, still, here we are." Your words came out almost effortlessly. You finished your scotch as well, and when you finally put your hand in Paul's, he squeezed your fingers gently, that warm upturn finally returning to his lips.

He guided you slowly over to the windows so you weren't in so much darkness, the moonlight still shining just enough for you both to see one another; and when Paul decided he could see your face much better, he let his other hand drop to your waist, watching as your own hand rested on his forearm.

You both shifted from side to side to the beat of the music, and you stared absentmindedly at the small space between you both.

"... You okay?" He asked you quietly after a minute, and you looked up at him, cheeks reddening as you realized you could feel his breath fanning your face.

"I've realized just how long it's been since I last danced with someone like this," you mentioned sheepishly, and a little smirk pulled at the corner of Paul's mouth.

"You don't have two left feet, y'know," his tone was almost teasing, and you smiled back, glad he wasn't feeling so much sadness anymore.

Paul then added with a little shrug, "'Sides, I wanted to dance with you that night, too. But I'm very glad I have the honours now."

Paul began turning with you in slow circles together as you continued to sway, and you took a moment to decide your next words carefully.

"... I suppose what I'm trying to say is that it's different when you're dancing with someone who actually wants to dance with you. It's just... it's really nice. So thank you, Paul."

Paul let go of your waist for a moment, and raised your clasped hands above your heads so you could twirl under his arm. When you did just that, and faced him again, he pulled you just a little closer than you were before, your torsos flush as his hand snaked slowly to the small of your back.

"Thank you," he mumbled back, quietly. You weren't entirely sure what he was thanking you for this time, but you never asked.

Instead, you shut your eyes and opted to rest your head in the crook of his neck as the hand you had on Paul's bicep slid upward so your arm circled around his shoulders, in a half embrace.

And then you felt Paul tilt his own head down as if to envelope you more. You'd be lying if you said your heart didn't skip a beat when he did that.

Paul then began to hum the lyrics of the song, quietly, as if you were the only person in the world who was meant to hear it. Both yours and his eyes were closed now as you two basked in such a beautiful moment.

Two lonely people, finding comfort, and peace in each other.

Paul raised your clasped hands closer to him so he could rest them against his chest. You could actually feel his heartbeat pounding against the side of your hand, which made you a little nervous, but not in a bad way.

Paul stopped moving you around in circles, but the swaying never ceased. He lifted his cheek off your crown after a while, and you couldn't help but open your eyes and raise your gaze back to his face.

Paul smiled so sweetly at you, and you watched his eyes shift ever so slightly from left to right as he looked back into yours. His eyebrows then worried for just a moment before he opened his mouth slightly as if to say something, but no words came out.

Your shifting finally slowed to a standstill, and you opened your mouth this time to speak, yet you found yourself in Paul's very position.

There was nothing to say.

You watched as his gaze softened on you, and you weren't sure if it was the drinks, or the lack of sleep, but it was like you could almost feel the gravity around you manipulating you to move just a little closer to him.

And he must have felt it as well. Paul's head began to drop slowly, and it wasn't long before you met him in the middle, your lips coming together in a very soft, and very unplanned kiss. The both of you kept still, almost as if the smallest move would have frightened the other away.

You were both holding your breath as well, and Paul pulled away from the kiss first, arm still wrapped around your back, hand still clasped in yours.

He was staring at you in awe, as were you, eyes wide, and lips still slightly parted as you both processed what exactly just happened.

Paul still couldn't muster any words, nor could you, for that matter; but he could definitely read your gaze. Your eyes were almost begging him to do that again.

And that's exactly what happened; your lips came crashing into each other again after only another second.

You weren't stupid, and neither was he. You both already knew this night was going to become something else entirely. You were craving the touch of someone, and you didn't even have to tell him.

You could just tell with the way he was moving his mouth against yours, and the way his body was flush with you, that he was wanting it just as bad.

Paul's hand finally let go of yours so he could lace his fingers into the hair at the back of your head, and your own hand slid around to his back. He tried pulling you even closer, but it just wasn't possible.

You sighed quietly as you kissed him again, and again, and Paul's hand unweaved itself from your hair as he cupped your face before breaking the kiss off again, another troubled look on his face.

"Ringo'll kill me if he knew I was--"

"Paul, please. I need this," you didn't let him finish his sentence. You didn't really care what your brother thought of anything, and you assumed, deep down, Paul really didn't care either, because he dove back in for more kisses as soon as he could.

His hands cupped your jawline as you gripped his sweater in your fists at his chest. You parted your mouth slightly and just melted into Paul's arms when he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip.

You moaned lowly against him, ears ringing, and all Paul could think to do was blindly shuffle you backwards towards the sofa, but instead, you felt the coffee table hit the back your legs, and you nearly stumbled back. The glasses, once filled with scotch but now only ice, shuffled against the table's surface at the force of you bumping into it.

Paul ended your kiss once more, one of his hands leaving the side of your face to circle around your hips quickly so you didn't fall back. He smiled at you when he knew you weren't going anywhere, offering you a teasing, "maybe you do have two left feet, Darling."

That wonderful pet name made your flesh rise with goosebumps, but all you could mumble to him was, "Just shut up and kiss me, Paul."

Without hesitation, he did just that, which felt like an eternity to the both of you since the last one.

He, still blindly, yet carefully, directed you around the table and to the sofa. Paul, with his hands holding your hips, was the first to sink down, but encouraged you to straddle him as soon as he was fully seated with an encouraging tap to the back of your thighs.

It was your turn to pull away now, your dominant hand resting flat against the centre of Paul's chest as you gave him a good once-over, feeling his heartbeat beneath your palm.

Paul was leaned back, lips parted and shining, assumably from the spit you'd been exchanging, and his eyes almost twinkling at you in adoration.

Your heart was full of something you hadn't felt in a very long time, and it was all because of this sensual interaction.

You reached out with your other hand and ran your thumb over his bottom lip, his shallow breath fluttering gently against the skin on your fingers. You tilted his head up and kissed him again, and your fingernails just couldn't resist playing with his beard any longer.

Paul's grip on your hips tightened when you started doing that, and when you decided to take your other hand off his chest and start playing with his hair, he let out a very low groan against your lips, and to both of your surprise, his hips bucked up involuntarily against you.

He gasped at his own actions, and you pulled away to view the look of apologetic shock written on his face. His cheeks and neck were flushed, and his eyebrows were bent in worry, again.

"I-I promise I didn't mean to..." Paul's voice carried a hint of... shame, almost. You watched as he nervously toyed his bottom lip between his teeth as he tried searching his brain for something to say, but the effects of his drink and your sweet attention had him grasping for any type of clear thought.

But all of his attempts went completely out the window when you lowered your hips down and rocked them back against his, his head falling back against the sofa as his eyes rolled, a guttural moan rumbling from deep within his chest.

It was absolutely apparent that Paul's jeans were lacking the room they'd possessed a few minutes prior, and when you repeated the circular motion with your hips again, feeling him hard against your core, you were rewarded with another low growl from him.

"W-wait," Paul uttered weakly after a second, arms and fingers tightening at your hips to keep you from moving around and teasing him again, as much as he didn't want you to stop.

"I want this so much. I want you so much," he began, taking a beat to rake his eyes down your body as his tongue swiped against his own bottom lip. His gaze flitted back to your eyes, and he swallowed nervously.

"I don't want you to do this if you aren't, y'know..." you waited for him to finish his thought, and his round pink cheeks seemed to flush just a little more.

"If you're not okay with it."

You took a second to think on his argument. You and he were relatively fresh out of troubled relationships, and you both seemed to be hurting from the aftermath of said relationships...

But you were so lonely, too. And, to each other, you were simply beautiful, and respectful people, offering your... company... in a time of isolation for you both.

And it wasn't like there was any label for what you two were, either. All you and Paul needed was to feel wanted-- to feel loved.

And only if you could experience such a feeling for one more night in your life, Paul was offering now. And you were going to take it.

"I want this moment to last, Paul. If you're okay with making me feel wanted again, I am more than comfortable doing the same for you."

You could see him visibly relax when you said that, relief washing over his features as he reached a hand up to caress the back of your neck and bring you into a single, sweet kiss. You still couldn't get over how gentle and polite he was still being about all of this.

"We should really... go to my room," Paul suggested quietly after pulling a fraction of an inch away from the contact. You nodded your head, sighing "okay" as Paul closed the gap between you both just once more, only for a peck.

He let go of your hips and he reached for your hands instead, fingers intertwining slowly, and affectionately. You slid out of his lap, and Paul rose to his feet, guiding you without a hurry towards of the threshold of the den, where you stood to greet him unexpectedly just an hour or so before this moment.

The 45 on the record player had since finished playing the song, needle spinning needlessly in silence. Paul briefly resituated the player before continuing your journey one step at a time towards his bedroom, the heart in your chest beating erratically.

You climbed the stairs together, one dragging step at a time, and Paul led you around the corner of the hallway, pausing at the first room on the right. He glanced over at you, hand on the doorknob as he gave you another look. One that was asking a final, "are you sure?"

You placed your free hand over Paul's without a sound, and together you opened the door. He pulled you in for one more intimate embrace, lips on yours again before he pulled you into the dark room, gently kicking the door closed behind him.

And that night, you stayed with Paul. Hand-in-hand, bodies entwined, souls healing, loneliness fading away, and hopes of feeling whole again finally returning.

Being awake in the middle of the night had never been so gratifying.

------------------------------------------

A/A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this! like I said, I can always whip up a part 2 regarding what happened behind those closed doors, so lmk if you're interested in that at all! Thanks for the support again and stay tuned for more works!

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#x reader #paul mccartney #the beatles #george harrison #john lennon #ringo starr #paul mccartney x reader #mcbeardy x reader #paul mcbeardy #paul mccharmly #george harrison x reader #john lennon x reader #ringo starr x reader

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emlovslennon · 3 months

Note

omgg last night I dreamed about supeeer cute soft dom george being very affectionate and giving making love to reader making her forget all her insecurities whispering in her ear a lot of worship, it's my first request and don't speak English very well but I'm here hehe love ya!

GUYS IM ALIVE HOLY FUCK BALLS !!! Anyway HEHEHHEHE evil laughter back to my mischievousness (mental illness). Also I LOVE YOU TOO

Era: 1965 cuz i feel like it

Audible moan.

You had been feeling extremely insecure ever since you got back from the opening of the the Beatles new movie, “Help!” You saw how in the newspapers they were saying incredibly cruel things about you, especially about how tight your black dress was when you wore it to the premiere. It was, “Name the Beatles wife with the worst taste?” Or “That dress certainly doesn’t look flattering on her!” Like it was some joke. You felt tears brim your eyes just thinking about it. You’d constantly look in the mirror and pinch at your stomach and thighs, you just couldn’t understand why you couldn’t be as beautiful as Jane or Maureen or Cynthia.

“Love, I’m back! Love? What’s wrong?” George said, he had just gotten back from a meeting about an upcoming album, so he unfortunately couldn’t take you along since it was a private meeting, not a public one. You were laying on your shared bed crying, with a newspaper at your side. The one that completely wrecked your self esteem. George caught on and picked up, in complete anger, he ripped the newspaper up and threw it in the trash.

“Absolute bloody rubbish! I hate those damn newspapers, y/n, come ‘ere love.” He said, quite angry, but gentle once he called your name. He couldn’t believe someone could say that about his wife. He thought you were the most beautiful woman he had ever laid eyes on. How could anyone not agree? They must be blind.

“Love, don’t listen to those bloody bastards, you are the most beautiful and lovely woman I ever laid eyes and have ever met. If they don’t believe that, then they must not have eyes.” He whispers in your ear, playing with your hair. Your tears at this point subsided and you looked up at him, he gave you a grin and kissed your forehead. You know this probably wasn’t the best timing, but you just couldn’t resist when he looks at you with nothing but pure love in his eyes.

“George, could you maybe show me how beautiful I am?” You say quietly, George winks at you in a joking manner and wiggles his eyebrows which make you giggle. George slowly positioned you to get you to lay on your back while he slowly got on top of you.

“I mean it when I say you look stunning in anything.” He whispers, playing with the hem of your black night gown, it was short and only went down to almost the end of your inner thighs. He looked at you for permission and you nodded, as he slowly lifted up your night gown, leaving completely exposed. You usually didn’t bother with under garments when you were going to sleep, you just didn’t feel the need for it.

“You amaze me every time, y’know that?” He praised, as his hands went to your breasts as he pulled you into a passionate kiss, leaving you breathless. George lifted himself up to take off his black long sleeve shirt and the pair of black pants he wore with it, as he went back down to kiss your neck, he hand slowly wandered down to your core, lightly rubbing causing you to whimper. George grinned at the sound, George loved nothing more than when you made noises for him, he doesn’t even really care when it comes to him getting off it’s just as long as you do he’s good.

“Can I?” He asks, his fingers nearing and circling your hole, you nod frantically as he giggles at your reaction, he slowly inserts two fingers into you. You bite your lip and throw your head back into the pillows with the intrusion. But you couldn’t lie, his fingers do wonders. He slowly thrusts them in and out as he watches you whimper and moan, he usually never goes fast unless you tell him to, he’s just never really been that kind of person. Whereas someone like John is the complete opposite.

“F-faster, George!” You moan out, causing George to kiss and suck on your neck harder than he did before as he went faster, your juices starting to seep down to the sheets as the noises coming from your core begin to echo through out the room. You felt the tightness and heat in your belly about to burst and you knew that only meant one thing.

“George-I’m-“ you couldn’t even finish your sentence as you felt as if you were sitting stars as your orgasm hit. George never wanted to admit it, but he absolutely adored when you orgasm your a shaking and moaning mess for him, you look absolutely wrecked just from his fingers.

“Are you ready? Do you need a minute?” He asks, one thing to note about George, is that he is huge on consent, he would never, ever, do something that you didn’t like or something that he thought could hurt you. It would break him into a million pieces if that happened.

“Yes, please!” You say shakily, George nods as he kissed your forehead, slowly lining himself up and entering you.

“You’re always so good for me, always. No one could ever compare.” He whispers lovingly, kissing your earlobe as he slowly thrusts in and out of you.

“Your noises are to die for, you are to die for, i can’t get enough of you.” George loved praising you during sex, he always took pride in doing so.

“G-George, please.” You whisper, George looks up at you, with a questioning face.

“Please, faster! Please!” You moaned out, George gave you a smile and kissed your cheek as he went faster, but not too fast, just slightly faster than the pace he was going. You moan out as he brings his fingers down to your clit and rubs circles round it, making your legs shake. You could feel your orgasm getting closer and creeping up on you like it was the grim reaper.

“George! Im gonna cum, please!” You cried out, all the worry, sadness, and insecurities you were experiencing early had completely disappeared. They were nowhere to be found. George always managed to make your worries and fears go away, it’s like he was magic. But to be fair, he pretty much was.

“Aw, come on pretty girl, cum on me, go on.” George groaned, feeling his own orgasm creep up on him, and before you know it, it wasn’t before too long both of you came together. You were shaking and moaning for quite a bit even after he pulled out and kissed your face all over. George laid on his side and brought the covers over both of you.

“Did that make you feel any better?” George asked, his hand holding yours, you look up at him with a smile.

“What was I upset about again?”

THIS WAS KINDA CHEESY BUT WOOOOAH I LOVED IT

#classic rock #classic rock imagines #george harrison #john lennon #paul mccartney #ringo starr #the beatles #the beatles x reader #60s #george harrison x reader #george harrison smut

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iheartjohnlennon · 17 days

Text

The Beatles NSFW Alphabet - Paul

@heiterhund <<< co-writer xxx🩷🎀

A is for Aftercare (How he treats you after sex, what happens after sex, etc...)

• Paul's very chatty with you at the end of it, then after that he just lies with you.

• Sex takes all of his energy and he can barely move himself. While he still has you, he’ll talk your ear off about everything and anything, important or not.

• And he 100% asks you how the sex was and how it felt - he wants a review.

• After you guys talk, he just stares up at the ceiling, daydreaming, dazed. He looks lovely, you just sit up and stroke his face, your breasts in his face as he mumbles how much he loves you.

B is for Body part (His favourite body part of yours)

• Your breasts win everything for him.

• He just thinks they sit so prettily, he loves the curve of your chest - the underside of them. How soft they feel in his grasp. They get him so distracted.

• He also loves the way your tits bounce when he’s fucking you.

• He can grab them, suck them, squeeze them, fuck them, finish on them. They're just...everything.

C is for Cum (Where he likes to cum)

• Paul adores cumming on your breasts, no matter the position you do.

• He loves the way it looks - your tits being covered in his white, glistening seed.

D is for Dirty secret (Something utterly filthy that he did/or does/or wants to do behind your back.)

• Sometimes Paul will either purposely let his friends hear you get fucked or just tell them about what you both get up to.

• It started off as a joke when George made an off handed comment about the marks on Paul’s skin, usually the dark love bites littering his neck.

• Due to this, Paul really, really feels the need to tell his bandmates how well you guys fuck. Their reactions just fuel their ego.

E is for Experience (How experienced is he?)

• Those prostitutes in Hamburg taught him a lot, a lot.

• Not to mention he's a bit of a whore anyways so he picks up knowledge and stuff.

• Paul knows and has experience past mere orgasm. He could be a sex therapist or something at this point.

F is for Favourite position (How he loves to fuck you)

• Paul really likes anything where he doesn’t have to put in much work. He’s honestly a lazy lover. He doesn’t mind topping though, you just have to ask.

• He prefers cowgirl, because he gets to have his hands on your pretty hips and watch your tits bounce as you do it.

• But that’s not to say he won’t do any other positions! He just has to admit that watching you, watching your face, is his favourite thing to do.

G is for Goofy (How silly is he during sex?)

•Sex with Paul isn’t long enough for a full conversation, let alone smart quips.

•He might laugh if he can’t get it in the first time, or if he hits himself or something. But other than that, he just isn’t silly during sex. He takes it very seriously.

G is also for Goal (What's his goal and/or dream in relation to sex)

• His goal is to cum! To cum everywhere and anywhere you will let him.

• He obviously cares about your orgasm, but… he feels like he should finish first, y’know?

H is for Hair (How well groomed he is, does the carpet match the drapes, etc..)

• This depends on the era, really.

• Early 1960s Paul would be very well groomed, neatly trimmed and not too long. Just a pretty thing that frames his cock, really.

• Going to 1966 and up? Yeah…maybe it would be a little unruly, but not like a jungle.

• After 1968 though…he just stopped caring!

I is for Intimacy (How romantic he is during sex, etc..)

• His intimacy depends on your relationship.

• If it’s a fling, expect him to hump and dump within a day. If you’re his girlfriend though? Expect him to be as caring as he can be, for the moment, anyways.

• There’s really no big scene in the bedroom, no music, no romantic lighting - just him being slower and taking his time. Your hands intertwined as he mumbles and tells you how much you mean to him.

• It doesn’t happen often, but he does want it to be often. So long as your relationship develops.

J is for Jack off (Masturbation headcanon)

• Paul loves to jerk off.

• He thinks it’s the easiest thing to do. Plus, it focuses solely on his pleasure.

• He thinks about you when he does it, usually with his back pressed against the headboard cock in hand, as he tugs and twists until his hand is covered in his release.

K is for Kink (One or more of their kinks in relation to you)

• Paul has a huge breeding kink. He gets so hard when he thinks about knocking you up. It makes his cock throb and ache with need. He usually tries to cum inside you, hushing your muffled concerns with his hand over your mouth as he keeps thrusting into you.

“Shh, it’s alright, I think you’ll be a great mother. Don’t you want me to be a father, love?”

• Usually that’s his attempt at soothing you, and it makes him even more excited.

• His other kink is cross dressing… nothing too extreme, but he loves when he’s able to wear something frilly and girly. He loves the way he looks in panties, it makes his dick look bigger, which is more of an ego boost.

• One word: pegging. He loves feeling like the bitch in the relationship. He makes cute little whimpers, hands fisted into the sheets as he tilts his head back. He refuses to take it on all fours, though. That's too much for him. He prefers being on his back, legs wrapped around your waist as you ease the tip of the strap into him. His pouty lips part as he lets out a shaky breath - cheeks flushing pink.

L is for Location (Favourite place to do the deed)

• The comfort of his own home just brings him a peace he rarely feels since he's constantly bombarded with fans and press and money.

• Doesn't matter where in your home, just as long as it's there.

M is for Motivation (What turns them on about you, gets him hard, makes him cum, etc..)

• Paul loves the faces you make during sex.

• He thinks you look so pretty fucked out and flushed. Your cheeks are so flushed, he thinks it looks better than any makeup you’ve ever worn.

• Your lips are so swollen from all the desperate kissing shared between you two, usually glistening with saliva (It’s Paul, he’s a messy kisser and that won’t ever change.)

• Eager humping, harsh gripping, and loud pants are usually Paul's tell tale signs that he’s about to cum.

N is for No (Turn offs, what pisses him off, etc..)

• Paul isn’t too thrilled at the idea of threesomes. He doesn’t like the idea of sharing you because what’s his is his.

• But if John asked or any close friends, he probably wouldn’t mind too much… No one else though, he’s the only one who knows how to fuck you. So why would you want someone else to join in? This is why he's so possessive, he wouldn't be able to even bear the thought of any other cock being inside of you.

O is for Oral sex (Does he prefer giving or receiving? How does he give, how does he receive?)

• He prefers getting head than giving head.

• He likes the way your lips wrap around his dick, tongue lapping the underside of his head - before you graze his shaft with your teeth. It sends a deep chill down his spine…

• When your nose nuzzles what pubic hair he does have, he’s about ready to cum down your throat. His hand usually finds its way to your hair, making a fist into it - pulling you up and down until he’s reached his climax.

• He does like eating you out though! It’s just not his preference. you might have to ask once or twice, unless he’s high or drunk.

• If that's the case, then he’s on you like some animal in heat. Sloppy kisses pressed against your clit, tongue dragging down to your entrance before he wiggles his tongue into it.

P is for Pace (Fast or slow? Rough or sensual? Etc)

• It’s not slow, like, at all.

• He's on you until he’s cumming inside of you.

• It's very fast, rough, desperate humping, like a rabbit. Sometimes he’ll hold you in place, hips jerking in quick messy directions.

• It can be romantic! Just…usually it isn’t.

Q is for Quickie (His opinion on quickies, how often they happen, etc..)

• Oh, he LOVES quickies.

• That’s usually what sex is like with him anyways! There may not be long rounds, but there’s usually so much fucking throughout the day.

• The beds too far away? Don’t worry, he’s already lifting up your dress, tugging down your stockings, and sliding his dick into you.

• He’s backstage during a performance? he already has you in the supply closet, hand over your mouth as he has his way with you.

R is for Risk (What kind of risks will they take.)

• Paul is 100% a pregnancy risk kind of guy.

• He kind of gets off on it as well, getting you pregnant “accidentally”.

• He'll not want to wear a condom and you'll ask him if he's sure, he just shrugs like...how bad can it be!

• He does want you to have his children eventually, he just likes the idea of having them unplanned.

• He just wants to raw dog you in peace, okay?

Paul finally had you to himself.

The long day of answering the media, signing autographs, shaking hands - it was all so monotonous.

But he’d do it all again if it meant he’d get to come home to you, naked, on his bed spread beneath him.

His dick was shoved into you, hands shoving your knees up to your chest - as he gave harsh, short thrusts.

You let out soft whines, eyes rolling back as you took it like the good girl that you are.

“Fuck,” he groaned.

“Y’know, ‘m not wearing a rubber,” he huffed out in your ear, the smirk evident in his tone.

Your eyes shot open as you tried to turn your head to speak into his ear.

“B-But, Paul,” you tried to speak, words getting caught in your throat as he continued to fuck you. Your nails dug into his back, leaving scratches as you tried to focus and tell him about the obvious risk.

“Easy now, quiet down, I wouldn’t quite mind getting you pregnant y’know…”

S is for Stamina (How many rounds he can last, how quickly can they cum, etc..)

• He’s like a rabbit, he can and will fuck everyday if given the chance.

• He can’t do long rounds, each round is about 10-15 minutes. but there’s at least four rounds before he gives out and feels like he's been drained of his cum and will never cum again.

• Paul can cum in five minutes if you let him, but he’s always edging himself so you can enjoy sex as well.

T is for Toys (Does he own toys, use them, what kind of toys, etc?)

• You both have used your dildo, but not in the way where Paul just uses it by himself. You had to share it for the moment when you first tried pegging him.

• He asked one day if you guys could try something new. He and John were talking over lunch about sex - and John brought up something about the prostate, just a silly thought.

• Paul had to pretend he wasn’t interested, joking with John how stupid it sounded!

• But it’s all he could think of until he was home with you. He was nervous to ask about, thinking you’d see him as some sort of homosexual. You didn't, you have such an active sex life that trying new things in the bedroom never seems like a bad idea.

• Safe to say, Paul loved his prostate being stimulated. Due to that, you now own a strap on.

• Paul also doesn’t mind you having toys. He personally buys you them as well and likes watching you unbox them.

U is for Unfair (How much does he like to tease you, how does he tease you, etc..)

• He’s extremely unfair, but not in the teasing sense.

• Paul simply adores you, but he’s extremely selfish when it comes to pleasure. If you don't finish but he's tired and can't go on, he'll make you beg to finish. A lot of begging.

V is for Volume (How loud is he, what noises does he make, what does he say, etc..)

• He doesn’t make loud sounds, but he is pretty noisy.

• He groans and whines, huffs and pants as he’s inside you.

• He’ll usually lean down next to your ear and rasp and breathe out how good your pussy feels.

• But that’s probably the most coherent sentence he’ll make out. Most of the time it’s just his gasps and sighs.

W is for Wildcard (Random sexual headcanon.)

• Paul never thought he’d agree to this. His jealousy made him an extremely bitter lover. Which was super ironic considering you always saw him flirting with fans.

• Though that’s not the point.

• John came over to visit one day, the group was taking a break from playing.

• Paul saw the way John was eyeing you, his brows lowering each time John complimented you - or would place his hand on your knee when talking.

• He couldn’t take it anymore and when you went upstairs to grab something, Paul approached his friend.

“Are you serious?” He asked through gritted teeth, ensuring you didn’t hear.

“Well, no, I’m John.” He responded, a shit eating grin plastered across his features.

His attitude was making Paul more pissed, “Can you please drop the act for one second? You cannot be hitting on my girlfriend in my home!”

John didn’t look amused, his eyes fixated on Paul as he debated about his next step.

“Well, if I can’t be hitting on her in your home - can I be fucking her?”

And so there he was, sat across in the chair that your clothes usually laid on, facing your bed. He was being cucked by Lennon, and honestly? It wasn’t as bad as he thought.

Each time John rammed himself in you, he would ask: "Is this good? Do you like it-" and each time you would whine, teasing him, saying how Paul could do it better.

X is for X-ray (His cock.)

• Okay…so…5 inches solid, extremely average.

• He's circumcised at least! That's one plus! And his balls are good enough, a nice round pair.

• And dear God, is it a good 5 inches though. In spite of his size (which doesn't bother him too much) he knows exactly how to use it, and use it he fucking does.

• Size matters unless you're called James Paul McCartney.

Y is for Yearning (His sex drive, how much do they want you?)

• He's like a dog in heat when you are both alone.

• In fact, even when you aren't alone, he'll still want you. Little touches under the table, spontaneous quickies, grabbing your arse and your tits.

• Paul is absolutely insatiable.

Z is for Zzz (Sleep afterwards?)

• He falls asleep after at least 40 minutes of talking to you and daydreaming.

• You watch him doze off slowly before sleeping yourself.

• He sleeps like a baby unless he's stressed or has to write or produce.

The other two coming soon x

John's here

#the beatles #george harrison #60s rock #the beatles imagine #the beatles smuts #the beatles x reader #vintage #paul mccartney #the beatles fandom #the beatles fanart #the beatles art #john lennon #ringo starr #paul mccartney x reader #paul mccartney imagine

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