#lennon x mccartney

[a-fic-reviewer-757]

Going Nowhere:

by: inspiteallthedanger | word count : 109,500| AO3 | chapters: 16/16| rating : Explicit

Summary:

When Paul gets the news, he rushes out to New York and ends up bringing an injured John back to England. Once there, they try and figure out how to find their way back to one another.

A post-1980 fix-it that includes flashbacks to some major moments in their past and an exploration of where John and Paul might have ended up if John had lived.

Tags :

Fix-It l AU l Post-1980 l Angst l POV switch l POV John l POV Paul l Hurt/Comfort l they actually talk it out l Flashbacks

Review : 💜💜💜💜💜

I used to say a fanfic had never made me cry, but this week alone I’ve read two that completely wrecked me — and this one especially destroyed me. As a Beatles fan and a McLennon truther, this hit me hard. Some of the scenes, especially the ones at the hospital... Damn, they broke me. I love these two so much, and even though there’s always been some taboo around RPF, this fic gave me the closure that real life never did — especially after watching Two of Us (2000). Honestly, I couldn’t recommend this more to any Beatles fan. The way the author captures the voices of the two characters is incredible; you can feel the differences between John and Paul, and it’s just so well done. I cried a lot, but I loved every second of it.

[cristoinmandorla]

honest to god I keep forgetting that John Lennon is dead I think about his annoying ass so often that it's like he's still with us

[buttahpie]

i lied. put your clothes back on. i’m going to explain to you how the codependent and homoerotic relationship between john lennon and paul mccartney caused the beatles to break up and ultimately led to john’s premature murder.

[coi-arts]

thisbe paul and pyramus john

[gmaybe666]

just listened to ‘now and then’ for the first time in months because of the grammys and thinking about Paul singing to dead John over 40 years ago and John in 1980 basically implying to Paul ‘I miss you and I want to start ‘us’ again’ and how he was never given the chance and yes Paul has moved on but in some way he never will

40ish John is asking I love you. i miss you, will you be there for me , will you return to me?

and 80 ish Paul is saying yes, yes i love you. I would’ve. I would’ve.

and john can never answer

[yangleeeh]

Jayce and Viktor as John Lennon and Paul McCartney

[johnlennonirl]

Shakespeare bugs what tf

[adriennefrombrooklyn]

for if I ever saw you I didn't catch your name but it never really mattered I will always feel the same love you forever and ever

Woolton Fete [July 6th, 1957]

[beatleswings]

Promo for ERAS: THE BEATLES on BBC SOUNDS. (x)

[handfetis]

PAUL IS DEAD

[monzaaasharl]

Can't believe this little guy wrote here comes the sun

[oliviaglumac]

This Boy

Pairing : Jack Hughes x fem!reader

Requested : no

Genre : fluff/angst

Jack stood in the dimly lit hallway outside your apartment, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat. The cool winter air bit at his cheeks, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t leave—not yet. Not without saying what he’d been holding back for weeks.

He could hear laughter inside—yours, mingled with someone else’s. It made his heart twist, a sharp reminder of how much he’d lost and how badly he wanted it back.

Before he could change his mind, Jack knocked.

The door swung open, and there you were, standing there in your oversized sweater, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Jack?” you asked, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

He shifted on his feet, his nerves making it hard to meet your gaze. “I needed to see you,” he said. “Can I come in?”

You hesitated for a moment before stepping aside. The warmth of your apartment was a sharp contrast to the chill outside, but Jack barely noticed. His focus was entirely on you.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” you said, crossing your arms. Your voice was guarded, but there was a softness to it—a part of you that still cared.

Jack ran a hand through his hair, a habit you knew all too well. “I know,” he said. “And I hate that it’s been this way. I hate that I messed things up.”

“Jack—”

“Please, just let me say this,” he interrupted, his voice breaking slightly. “I’ve been trying to move on, to be okay with you not being in my life. But I can’t. I see you with him, and it’s killing me. I keep thinking about how happy we were, and I… I can’t let it go.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. You’d spent so many nights convincing yourself that Jack Hughes—confident, charming, and seemingly untouchable—would never feel the way you did. But here he was, standing in front of you, baring his soul.

“I know I hurt you,” he continued, his eyes finally meeting yours. “I know I didn’t treat you the way you deserved. But if you gave me another chance—if you let me try again—I swear I’d do everything to make you happy.”

Your breath caught in your throat. You wanted to believe him, to trust that things could be different this time. But the fear of getting hurt again held you back.

“Jack, it’s not that simple,” you said softly. “You can’t just come back and say these things after everything.”

“I know,” he said, his voice shaking. “But I mean it, Y/N. I’m not asking for you to forgive me right away. I just… I just need you to know how I feel. Because this boy,” he said, gesturing to himself with a sad smile, “would be happy—so happy—if you’d give him another chance.”

Tears welled in your eyes as you looked at him. The boy who had once been your everything was now standing before you, asking for a shot at redemption.

And as much as you wanted to guard your heart, a part of you—the part that still loved him—was willing to try.

“Okay,” you whispered.

Jack’s eyes lit up with hope. “Okay?”

You nodded. “But we take it slow this time. You have to prove to me that things will be different.”

“I will,” he said quickly, his voice firm. “I’ll prove it every single day.”

And as he pulled you into his arms, holding you like you were the most precious thing in the world, you felt the first flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, this boy could make things right.

[buttahpie]

sigh….. opens up google docs

[sunflowersinthedirt]

AFTER SHOW | PAUL MCCARTNEY 🎸

Where Paul really wants you and can't stand hiding it anymore OR where you have low self-esteem and don't see yourself as feminine and beautiful enough to attract anyone's attention.

female!reader, fluff.

| mentions of alcohol and pot, mature language and reader not feeling feminine enough. Written in first person. |

english is not my first language and gifs are not mine.

—

1965.

Nothing could have prepared me to see Paul being interviewed after the tenth show of that tour in the hotel by this girl. Sure, it was a usual scene, but she… She was beautiful. Red-haired, medium height, and rosy-skinned. She looked like one of those porcelain dolls people order for decoration. Delicate, polite and apparently funny. The hazel eyes of the english singer were solely focused on her, his smile stretching from ear to ear.

It made me sad in a way. But my mind couldn't figure out if it was because Paul was close to such a beautiful woman with a courteous smile for so long without me seeing him next to a woman, or if it was because she was everything I was not: Too beautiful.

The truth is it was always like this. I always had to compare myself with every woman who got close to the boys. I had been working with the Beatles for almost four months and had yet to see any erratic behavior from them towards me or any woman - They´are flirty, but not disrespectfull. Far from me wanting all of them, but sometimes a doubt would light up inside me: Am I pretty enough for a Beatle to notice me? Of course, not just them, but any man.


I walked down the hotel hall to my room, not wanting to notice anyone's presence there and hoping they wouldn't see me either. I went up to the corridor of the rooms so quickly that not even a camera flash would catch me if someone photographed me there. I heard footsteps behind me and felt a tap on my arm.

— Where are you going in such a hurry, luv? — It was Paul. His warm touch sent an electric current and a shiver through my stomach. I felt my face heating up too, but it could have been the wine Brian offered me earlier at the after show. — To my room. — I replied, a bit intoxicated by his scent and how close he was to me. Either I was too tipsy for having had two glasses of weak Chilean wine with Brian Epstein, or Paul's eyes had a different sparkle that night.

— Can I be your company? — He asked boldly and irresistibly. — I want to get out of here too.

I nodded positively. Paul and I walked down the room corridor, and I felt drained by the energy of the place. Paul seemed tired and high... His eyes continued to disturb me. I couldn't judge him because I was this high too.

His eyes shone and disturbed me in an attractive way, of course. After seeing him with the red-haired girl, I started comparing myself to her automatically. I wasn't unkempt, but I didn't feel feminine enough either. It was always a battle to get ready and force myself to see myself as a feminine woman. And being in Paul's company that night had a strange atmosphere.

Why would he prefer to stay with someone like me, so clumsy? He was my best friend... But what could I offer him if we were seen together? In my mind, we simply didn't match. Paul and I were closer because we had similar tastes. I adored him, and he was totally my type. A Liverpool gentleman, contrary to the thoughts of people who had prejudice against Liverpudlians. He liked photographs, good music, and had accompanied me (when he had time) to cinemas and theaters.

When I entered that room, I had almost forgotten he was my company that night. A cold, electrifying air passed through me, and my body shivered. I felt small in the vastness of the night of the tenth show of that tour. I was too lucky and knew it, knew that girls my age would die and kill to be in my place and work with the Beatles.

— What's wrong with you? — He asked, breaking the silence. A tone of concern was perceived. — You seem too quiet today.

I threw myself onto the double bed in the room. It was soft, comfortable, and had pocket springs. I heard the springs' noise, and my body wobbled a bit with the impact of my lazy throw onto it. I wanted to stay in that position forever if possible.

— It's nothing. — I lied. I didn't want to worry Paul. He and the other guys had an incredible performance at the show today. Brian was proud and trusted me blindly to accompany them in all this madness. — Just tired, and I drank too.

Paul threw himself on the mattress next to me, very close to me. Now we both stared at the white ceiling of the hotel room.

— Darling, stop it. I know when something is wrong with you. I didn't even see you smile today. — Paul commented, now turning to me. He knew, he knew me well... And I kind of hated myself for making it too obvious. It took me a while to turn to him and take my eyes off that ceiling.

Not because the hotel room ceiling was more interesting than Paul but because I could commit a big madness being centimeters away from his face. I could blame the earlier glasses of Chilean wine or realize that I had been in love with Paul for a long time and stop hurting myself so much. I knew this would end our friendship in a bad way.

— I smiled when you guys were on stage. — I didn't look at him. I could feel Paul's gaze burning my cheeks.

— I didn't see... — He said, his voice huskier, whining. Almost a moan. — Look at me, love. Tell me what's going on, hm? — He pleaded. I felt butterflies in my stomach. The wine's effect seemed to be affecting me more than it should.

I started to wonder if there was something more in the wine or if I was drunk intoxicated by Paul.

— Paulie... — I whispered his name, finally looking at him. I wanted to laugh nervously, so I bit my lips. Paul looked at me with the most needy expression in the world at that moment. Either that or I was going completely crazy...

Shit. He's beautiful, and I really liked him.

— Hm? — He murmured softly in response to me calling him. His eyes were low and dark, a look I had never seen in all this time working with the Beatles. — If I ask you something, would you be upset with me? — He asked, his voice low and firm.

— You know that I can't be angry with you. Just.. go ahead...— I blinked quickly, trying not to appear intoxicated by him.

— Can I? — He sounded nervous. — I mean, can I kiss you, darling? — He asked me. His hazel eyes locked on mine.

I took a deep breath, trying to process what I had just heard. It wasn't possible, was it? He wanted to kiss me. He. Wanted. To. Kiss. Me.

— Paul, I-

— I'm sorry. — He interrupted me, and I felt like an idiot. His eyes darkened, and the boy's face now had a sad expression. He sat on the bed with his back to me.

— Paul, I...

— It's just that I'm feeling different. I don't want to mess up our friendship. — He interrupted me again, and honestly, I couldn't be mad at him for interrupting me. I sat on the bed. Paul looked at the lamp, his long and curved eyelashes making a perfect drawing on his eyelid. I confirmed that even his profile was beautiful. — I'm kind of tired of this. And you keep disturbing my thoughts, you know? I can't sleep without thinking about you. — He finally confessed, now looking back at me. His thick lips moist and shining with his saliva.

My heart felt like a philharmonic band. He was driving me crazy.

— Y/N, I don't want to lose your-

I interrupted him and did the craziest thing. I silenced him with my lips on his. Paul gently held my face, his thumbs relaxed on my right cheek. I wanted to go fast, thirsty for him, he wanted to go slow. He tamed me like no one else could that night, tilting his head to deepen the lazy kiss. I felt like I would melt there... His mouth was warm, moist, the taste of wine sweetening my mouth. It was intimate and moved me like no man had ever done. The need for air became apparent, and we pulled apart, Paul still daring to steal a peck. Our lips swollen and red.

Suddenly, I felt shy. I had indeed kissed him, caught him by surprise. He had too, he kissed me back... Unbelievable that he reciprocated me and my repressed feelings.

— Paul... — I whispered, intoxicated, feeling my lips moist with his saliva. Our faces were still close but not close enough to be strange.

— Shh... — He gave me a long peck. — I know. Me too, darling.

And then nothing else mattered in that room but him and me.


[gmaybe666]

pyramus and thisbe

[iheartjohnlennon]

The Beatles NSFW Alphabet - Ringo

@heiterhund >> #1 writer & Ringo Starr lover/expert.

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

• You can count on him cleaning you up after. 

• A gentle wash cloth rubs up your leg, cleans your stomach, and gently wipes down your sore cunt. After doing all the cleaning, he tends to pepper your face in kisses and praises you for how well you did and how lucky he is to love and have you.

• If the sex was particularly rough, he will hold you to him until you get so sweaty you have to push him off! He can't help it, you're his girl, he wants you to feel loved! 

• He is known for his quick jokes and smartass quips, so expect some of that thrown in during the aftermath of sex. 

 

“Looks like you’ve just seen a ghost, love! I didn’t fuck you that hard, did I?”

     

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

• Ringo is an ass man. 

• He loves your ass, he can’t keep his hands off of it. Grabbing, smacking, spreading - whatever.

• He'll smack it and grab it randomly, you'll giggle and tell him to stop.

• Usually if you both are alone, and you’re laying over his lap as you lounge - he’ll play a silly, little beat on it.

• He also loves the way it looks when you’re wearing one of his shirts and nothing else to lounge in. 

 

“Y’know, I think your arse makes better beats than my drums do.” He mused, slapping your butt with two fingers, before going back to playing the beat to one of the many songs stuck in his head.

     

C is for Cum (Everything to do with cum!) 

• Ringo loves a good cream pie. 

• He loves to feel the warmth of your cunt flutter around his length as he spills his seed deep into you.

• He sometimes massages your lower stomach with his thumbs as he pumps you full of cum, usually comes off as sweet - but it’s more possessive in his mind, he owns you and your womb. You’re being held in place while he takes what’s his.

• After he cums in you, he loves watching it drip out of you. 

 

“Say, birdie, do you usually take it like some filthy whore?” He was between your legs, watching as the pearly liquid oozed slowly out of your used hole.

His thumb and forefinger spreading open your folds, nose brushing against your flushed labia as his tongue poked out to lap up his seed.

     

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

• He used to sniff your panties. Before you two were together and were only friends.

• He took you home when you got drunk. You insisted you were perfectly capable of getting to your bed.

• Your pubes looked nice, he liked that. But it was highly inappropriate for him to gawk and drool over his drunk friend. 

• And yeah, he still does when you’re gone or asleep. When he’s away, he usually pockets a pair and jerks himself off with them after he sniffs them.

• Filthy, filthy man.

 

“Nuh uh, Richie, I-I can…can do it! Seeee?”

You stumbled up the stairs, knees knocked together as you nearly toppled over each step.

“Love, you’re about to fall. Let’s get inside, yeah?” He sighed, ushering you into your room.

“If I was soooo drunk, could I do this?”

And before he had time to get you to lay down, you were taking your clothes off. And there you were, lounging on your bed naked.

“Oi! Hey! Get your clothes back on!”

He turned around, hands covering his eyes as he tried to lose the boner he was sporting.

He eventually got you tucked in, you only agreed to sleep if he stayed until you slept. and so he did.

You were knocked out cold, and he went to clean up the mess that you made before you rested.

All that was left was your cute panties.

They were frilly and dawned with a cute bow at the top. He didn’t want to grab them, not with his hands. But he had already put all your clothes away in the hamper.

He eyed them for a moment, before his baby blues locked onto a slick spot in the middle of your knickers.

He sniffed them. 

     

E is for Experience (How experienced is he?) 

• Ringo was sick most of his young life, and never properly lost his virginity until he met his first girlfriend when he was in his 20s. 

• The most he did before was kissing and fumbled touching, perhaps a bit of fingering. He’s always been good with his hands.

• Now, with that being said, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know how to fuck.

     

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

• Ringo is a romantic guy. He adores missionary.

• Sure it’s a bit boring to some, a classic, but he can see your tits bounce each time he rams himself into you. 

• He can also see your lips quiver as you try not to moan, your eyes rolling and your lashes fluttering as you whine and cry.

• It's also his preferred position because he can see the outline of his dick poking in and out of you - filling you up balls deep.

• He thinks you look like a beautiful angel splayed out beneath him. His beautiful angel.

• 10/10 position.

• He also likes doggystyle, but that’s usually reserved for his days when he needs to relieve stress. Or when he simply wants to fuck the shit out of you.

     

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

• Ringo tends to crack jokes at the worst times. His humour is just like that, so he will totally be joking during sex.

• Your cunt made a slick sound that sounded funny…you bet he already has a comment to make about it, something silly. 

• When he eats you out, he does the little head shake his bandmates are known for. And after he’s done, he looks up at you with a dopey grin.

“She loves you, yeah, yeah, yeah.” Followed by the head shake.

 • After being a bit goofy, he'll go right back to being serious…and serious means making you orgasm. 

     

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

• His goal is to make you walk with a limp, his goal is to fuck you way past orgasm. 

• With how big his dick is (8 inches!!!), he definitely leaves you sore. But oh no, that’s not good enough, not at all.

• He wants you limping and waddling the next days, hell, if you’re not whining that you’re sore in the morning he’ll pin you down and fuck you until you do.

• He absolutely adores over stimulating you with his cock - until your eyes roll into the back of your head, until you can't breathe, until the sheets are drenched with bodily fluids.

     

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

• He barely has leg hair, let alone chest hair. so his pubes are well kept.

• They’re not curly and unruly, they’re straight and aren’t too long.

• Also, don’t worry if you have pubic hair. Ringo doesn’t mind.

 

“Well, I don’t mind…y’know, I always fancied having a moustache!” 

     

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

• He is a hopeless romantic. He wants it soft and slow, and usually that’s how it goes.

• He never calls it fucking. It's always referred to as ‘making love.’

• His hands are always on your body, whether that be holding your hands above your head while he rocks into you - or his hands being placed on your hips as he thrusts.

• Will play some old vinyls of his during it, too. Usually some old Elvis records. The music really compliments it all. He'll sing the lyrics to you - whisper it in your ear as he does. a bit cheesy, but it makes you both smile.

• He won’t cum unless you guys are kissing, or unless he's looking you dead in your eyes - or both…

     

J is for Jack off (Masturbation headcanon.) 

• He barely masturbates. Will only do it as a last resort of sorts.

• He spent his teenage years jerking off, so it’s just not as stimulating anymore. It's almost boring. 

• But if you guys are away from each other for too long, he’ll call you up on the phone and do it. Not really phone sex, but just hearing your voice will soothe his ache for you.

     

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

• Ringo has a humiliation kink. He loves embarrassing you. Even if it’s something as little as making you beg for more. 

 • But most of the time it’s him making you masturbate in front of him and letting him watch. He loves to see your flushed face look to the side, as you bite your lip and nervously touch yourself.

• He has some weird pet play kink too, but not in the way you think. He’s not into collars or cages, none of that. He just loves calling you his pet. Depending on the partner, they’re either called his puppy or his kitten. He loves treating and spoiling you like some fancy poodle.

     

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

• Prefers the bedroom. He gets embarrassed doing it anywhere else. 

• You once tried doing it in the back of the car during a long ride to the hotel, and he kept getting nervous and mumbling about how the press would go absolutely wild if they saw.

• Of course he’s fine with doing it with you anywhere where there are four walls and a door. So, a broom closet would work as well. But his favourite has to be the bed, any bed.

     

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

• Your hands. Your hands get him going.

• They’re so soft and small compared to his dry and calloused hands. He loves how smooth they feel against his skin, and how they radiate such warmth. 

• If you brush his hands with yours and give him a look full of love, he’s ready to pounce. 

• Your smile also gets him going. You’re just so beautiful that he can’t help but feel lucky - and feeling lucky gets him going.

• Honestly, the easy answer could've been you.

     

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

• If you make a remark about his nose. 

• He knows everyone does, but it hurts coming more from you. If you make a joke involving it - he will not even think about touching you until he does. 

• He’s an insecure guy… 

     

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

• Ringo loves eating your pussy. 

• He loves slotting his tongue against your core and licking up in harsh stripes. Also enjoys biting your clit once or twice, just to keep you on your toes.

• He doesn't favour oral sex on him too much. He got a lot during his prime, and it was boring to him. But that doesn’t mean he won’t enjoy it every now and then.

• He’s big, he knows his dick isn’t fitting in your mouth comfortably. 

 • You wouldn't be able to deep throat him without literally choking. He wants to go balls deep into your mouth, but he knows you wouldn't be able to handle it. You always swallow him a little less than half way.

 • When you suck him off, it's nicely dragged out. You trail your tongue up and down his shaft, you suck his tip, massage his balls.

     

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

• Ringo is usually a slow lover - at the start at least. His thrusts are gentle and soft starting out, they only get rougher the longer you fuck and the closer he is to cumming.

• The clapping noises fill the room. 

• He likes it to feel romantic and full of love. Like stated before, his rough and fast pace are reserved for his stressed days - which is almost everyday.

     

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

• He doesn’t like quickies. Nuh uh.

• He wants you all to himself with all the time in the world, with all the space in the world.

• Buuut, if you are desperate enough, he’ll cave in and fuck you.

     

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

• The most he’s willing to do is fucking you in a shared hotel room with either John, George, or Paul.

• He still is hesitant to do it, but he’d rather fuck you around people he knows as opposed to any prying eyes and ears he doesn’t.

• You're both probably a bit drunk as well. 

 

His hand was covering your mouth, as your knees dug into the bed below you both.

George was asleep in the other bed, not too far from yours. His face was turned the other way, he seemed to be snoozing - you hoped he was. 

That made Ringo feel a bit better about fucking you in the same room as him.

Your eyes were shut tightly as he slowly slotted himself into you, a finger pulling your panties to the side. 

He began his light thrusts, desperately trying to avoid the creak of bed springs as he did so.

“Mmph!” You softly moaned against his hand.

You were unable to shake off the feeling of his cock stroking your walls. It was an instant pleasure, his tip rubbed against your g spot nicely and consistently. 

“Fuck…” You breathed, feeling it clenching around him.

He tightened his hand against your mouth and leaned into your ear. “Keep it quiet, birdie, Hazza might wake, you don't want that do you?”

Ringo sped up a bit, your wetness started sounding as he did so. His free arm pulled your hips up so you could better meet his thrusts. 

“Do you? Do you want George to hear you getting fucked?” He asked again, wanting an answer.

He slowed down, going from tip to balls at a moderate pace. 

“N- no.” You whispered back, strained. 

You fucked him back, he'd only thrust back harder - the soft, clapping noises ensued. 

Your toes curled, Ringo continued his forward movement. 

It got louder and louder with each thrust, now it sounded like you were both full on fucking. 

“Baby…” You mockingly warned, mindful of the younger man not too far from you. Though it sounded more like you were just moaning.

“Mmhm…shh…shh…I'll make you cum, don't worry.” He groaned, sounding cocky.

Shit. 

Did George just cough?

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

• It feels like an Olympic sport keeping up with him. He lasts way longer than you, by the end of most of your sessions you're breathless, sweaty, dazed, confused. 

• He can do two rounds, at least. 

• He lasts around 20-50 minutes each round.

• But his foreplay can go on for hours if he’s in the mood and has the time for it. 

• He cums around two times. Usually once in the first round (between the 15-25 minute mark. Then the second time he cums is around the 45 minute mark.) As for the second round? That's usually when you’re about to orgasm.

• He’s a generous guy, really.

• He rarely ever cums quickly. That's just impossible for him. This is why he hates quickies, he always leaves rock hard.

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

• Oh, he owns toys. 

• He has a cock ring that he bought personally, it helps keep him harder, like rock hard. He loves the ache of being hard, he loves his stiffness. The ring makes his cock all red and veiny, and makes his balls heavy. And it's all for you (and your holes).

• He also has encouraged you to buy some for yourself. He doesn’t think it makes him less of a man - even a dildo bigger than him. Whatever makes you feel good, makes him feel good.

• He’s once tried your vibrator. He was curious…it didn’t feel too good against his dick so he never spoke of it. 

• He likes using your toys on you. Fucking you with your own dildo, using your vibrator on you as he fucks you.

 

You were out shopping with him, your arm linked tightly around his.

You stumbled upon a small, curious shop on the high street. He seemed to know exactly what it was because he didn't even let you think before he dragged you into it! 

You looked around, realising, the innocent looking shop was a filthy one, a haven for pleasure.

“Buy something.” Ringo said, taking your hand.

“What?” 

You laughed, almost stunned.

“We aren't leaving this shop till you buy something for yourself, sweetheart.”

“Something? Like what...” you teased.

     

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

• He’s super fair. He hates teasing you. 

• If you’re not having fun, he’s not having fun. 

• He teases in some kind of way, but it’s never for long or never torturous… it’s usually a quick touch, or a sly remark. He falters as soon as you give him that look that says stop.

• So he’s a bit whipped in that sense, definitely.

     

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

• He’s not too noisy, but he groans and huffs, like a bear almost.

• He does those long, deep sighs when he finally gets himself settled in your walls. You feel so warm and snug around his length, he can’t help but let out a sound.

• But it’s never loud enough for anyone but you two to hear unless they're in the room or something.

• Grunting and praising you through it all.

• “Such a pretty girl, taking me so well.”

     

W is for Wildcard (Random sexual headcanon.) 

• He's really into humping just as much as he is into being inside of you. He likes the sloppy pace and how desperate it is.

• He once had you sat in his lap, and you both got handsy. It ended up with you grinding yourself against his thigh and his stiff cock like a dog in heat. He'd bounce you up and down, practically fucking you with his clothes still on.

• He was into it. Definitely into it. Definitely creamed his pants.

     

X is for X-ray (His cock.) 

• Let's be straightforward here. 8 inches, thick, uncut. 

• Yeah, he is very hung. 

• It definitely slaps his stomach when he pulls it out.

• It’s awfully obvious when he has an erection too. Even when he's flaccid his bulge is still obvious. 

• Ringo Starr is not a grower, it’s usually 5-6 when soft.

I want it in me so bad 

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

• His sex drive isn’t too high, but if you’re not by his side when he’s asleep he finds himself missing you.

• He tries to have sex with you three days a week, he doesn’t think sex is a need. He’s more into soft intimacy and gifts.

• But this doesn’t mean he doesn’t want you. He just loves you too much to not only crave you sexually. 

• He craves you in a way a man craves water. It’s a necessity to have you, whether that be sexually or not.

     

Z is for Zzz (Sleep afterwards?)

• After sex and cleaning you up, he wants to rest with you. Not in a sleepy way. He just loves basking in the afterglow.

• It usually takes him a while to fall asleep anyway. He doesn’t mind it though.

• He gets to watch you sleep peacefully and that’s the best way to end his night. You, curled into his side, and him, smiling like an idiot.

@legendaryskeletonpicklewolf

@zeppelin-groupie

🩷

Aaaaand that's the end of this alphabet, but of course, more to come.

Check out the masterlist for more works!