#mcbeardy x reader

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

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!

PERMENANT TAG LIST

@culturefiendtrashqueen

@strawb3rri-le

(If you wanna be added/ removed from any of my lists, please message me and let me know!!)

[bealtesharrisonmacca]

“Be quiet”

Paul McCartney x reader

Fem reader

Words: 2k

Warnings: smut!, not public but not exactly private sex…?

Summary: You and Paul have to share a bed and things get a little tight, the rest of the band is only two doors away.

The boys manager has asked you to make their next trip as cheap as possible. Even though they are plenty rich, none of them want to spend money on where they sleep, considering they will be preforming or doing press conferences most of the time.

You just booked a little secluded house for them and yourself for their next tour.

But upon arrival you all realize it would have been better to spring for something a little more expensive. The place was very cozy and all, but it only had 2 bedrooms.

The band members run into the house to call dibs on a bed. You follow soon after.

Unfortunately there is only one king sized bed in one room and a little bed in the other.

“Alright lads” Paul said while yawning. “You lot take the king size bed, me and

Y/N will take the other room.”

The others teasingly let out kissy noises and giggles.

“Shut it, I’ll be sleepin on the floor or something” Paul exclaimed firmly.

“Well why don’t you sleep on the floor in here then?” John taunted.

“I don’t wanna listen to yer bloody snoring all night” he answered to no one in particular as he led you out of the room.

The other bedroom was only two doors down from where the others were going to be sleeping. Only room separating l you was a tiny bathroom.

~

You began unpacking your things while Paul was laying a blanket down on the floor for him to sleep on.

You felt sorry for him, although it was a bit funny to imagine him sleeping all uncomfortably the whole night. Wiggling around and looking up at you in a comfy bed.

“Paulie, are you really sleeping on the floor?” You asked.

“Well, there’s only one bed love”

“It can probably fit us both, we’ll just have to squeeze a bit. I just don’t want you sleeping on the floor, you have a big day tomorrow.” You felt yourself blush as you knew you were proposing a bit of an unethical situation. But it could also just be seen as an innocent suggestion from a worried assistant.

Paul walked over to you. His fingers putting your hair behind your ear. Making you blush even more at the sudden forwardness.

“If yer alright with it, then yes, I would rather sleep in the bed” he paused. “With you..”

The words went right to your head but all you did was smile as you picked up the blanket he had laid on the floor and placed it on the bed.

~

You started looking for your pajamas only to remember that you hadn’t packed any.

“Fuck” you cursed to yourself.

“What’s wrong love?”

“Well, since I thought we would all be sleeping in separate bedrooms, I didn’t really pack any pajamas.” You said worriedly.

Paul smiled that smug smile he sometimes did.

“So you really didn’t know there was only two bedrooms when you booked this place?” he said as he approached you.

The butterflies in your stomach grew quickly as he came closer. So close you were almost touching.

“No of course not Paulie” you assured him, but it didn’t come out as confidently as you had hoped.

“Okey okey, whatever you say love”

He smirked and walked back to his open bag and he gave you one of his t-shirts.

“You can sleep in this if you want.“

You thanked him, still blushing. You pulled off the t-shirt you were currently wearing and threw on the one he gave you.

Paul watched closely the whole time. His eyes admiring your half clothed body.

You pulled your pants down revealing your legs completely. Thankfully, his T-shirt was big enough to cover your underwear, although you really wouldn’t be complaining if it didn’t.

You laughed silently at the situation. Here you were. About to share a bed with Paul fucking McCartney while almost naked.

“Hope you don’t mind, but I never really sleep with anything except my brief’s.” Paul said as he was getting into the bed.

“No not at all!” You said, maybe a bit too excited at the news.

Paul chuckled while still eyeing you up and down. He didn’t want to admit it, but the look of you wearing nothing but his t-shirt made him really horny. Of course you were still in your underwear, but he couldn’t see those anyways so he imagined they weren’t there.

You got into bed next to him. The bed was smaller than you thought. Immediately you felt your thighs brushing against his. Giving you goosebumps.

You lay with your back towards him while he was still on his back.

“Paulie, I think there would be more room if you were also on your side” you said attempting to seem nonchalant.

Paul did what you said and so now he was spooning you. Paul’s hand was slightly touching your waist. You could sense he didn’t want to cross any boundaries, but he wanted so badly just to touch you. You were laying pretty close and you could feel his growing boner touching your ass.

In the heat of the moment you decide to subtly yet in an obvious way push your lower body into his boner. Just then feeling how big he was.

Paul let out a pleased moan. He was now sure he wasn’t the only one longing for more. His hand tightened around your waist as he began slightly grinding against you.

His motions were pleasing, but it wasn’t enough for either one of you. You needed something more.

You could feel Paul lowering his hand, getting closer and closer to your heat. His fingers lightly brushing against the fabric of your underwear. Making you squeal.

He retracted his fingers, not sure what your reaction meant.

“No, Paul. Don’t stop, I want you Paul” you whispered.

You felt Paul smile behind your neck as he lowered his hand again. This time tracing his fingertips along the top of your underwear before slipping his hand into them.

You gasped as the simple pleasure of just his hand against your heat. He began slowly circling your clit. Making you moan and yearn for more.

“Yer so wet for me already love?” Paul whispered into your ear.

Before you could ask him he slipped two fingers into you. He pulsed his fingers in a slow pace, letting you relax, before going a bit faster.

By now his erection was poking hard into you.

“You sound so pretty, yer makin me really fucking hard y’know”

His voice was low but firm. Sending vibrations down your neck. You turn around to face him. Sadly making him remove his hand from your underwear. The look you give him making his boner grow more than he thought possible.

Your hand went to his crotch to feel his erection. Paul gasped at the slight touch. You could feel how much he wanted to be inside you. And you wanted it as much as him.

Paul climbed on top of you and began kissing you passionately. His lips touched yours in a way no one ever had. Letting out soft moans between each kiss.

His hands traveled from your hair to the bottom of your t-shirt, well, his t-shirt really. He looked at you to make sure you were ok with what he was doing. You nodded and he pulled the t-shirt over your head.

His lips went back to your mouth to kiss you again. His hands nearing your breasts.

Paul trailed kisses along your jawline, down your neck and just barely gracing against one of your breasts. You let out a delighted moan. Urging him to continue.

But he didn’t continue. You looked up at him curiously. He was sitting on his knees over you. Hands by your head.

You could see what he wanted. You had kept him waiting long enough. Looking down at his briefs as you started pulling them off. You tossed them to the side when they were off.

He was huge. Just the thought of him stretching you out caused you to moan.

Paul smirked as he started pulling your underwear off as well. He went to kiss you again but this time his hand was back on your clit. Your hips bucking at every slight touch. You needed him inside you.

Paul lined himself up, his tip barely brushing against you. You try moving down to get closer to his cock but he then pulled further away. Making you groan frustratedly.

“Don’t move” Paul demanded.

He grabs your hands and hold them above your head. Keeping you still. He used his other hand to open your legs wider for him. You gladly oblige.

“Good girl, now don’t move and don’t make a sound. The boys are asleep just down the hall”

You squirm at the thought of one of them walking in on you like this. But before you can continue your train of thought Paul thrusts into you. A loud moan escaping your throat.

One of Paul’s hand fly to your mouth to cover the sounds you’re making. You can’t help it. You want to scream his name for all the world to hear. He thrusts at a slow pace to keep the volume down, but mostly to tease you. You try moving your hips to get more of him in you but he grabs your hips tightly. Holding them in place and keeping you from moving.

“I said don’t move, you gotta take what I give ye or nothing”

You nod reluctantly. Knowing the only way to get what you want is to listen. And if you were being honest, following Paul’s orders really turned you on. After all you were his assistant so it’s only right he’s in charge of what happens.

His hand is still covering your mouth as he suddenly pushes his cock deep inside you. Muffled sounds escaping your mouth. You arch your back at the pleasure.

You feel your climax building up and your moans and shaking legs makes Paul realize that as well. Right before you hit your climax, Paul slows his pace and pulls out of you. An angry grunt escapes you. You look at him, still longing for a release.

Paul looks at you in a way that tells you he really enjoys keeping you on edge. He quickly flips you over on your front, displaying your ass to him. He gives a few kisses to your back as his hands wanders to your hips, holding you tightly before slamming into you again. You immediately scream out his name, but this time his hand isn’t covering your mouth.

Paul stills inside you at the that sound leaves you lips, almost refusing to move.

“Do you want to get caught? Are you such a slut you want someone to hear you?” Paul says rather loudly before harshly thrusting into you.

“Well then that’s what we’ll do, let everyone hear how good you take my cock”

You shiver at his words. You couldn’t hold yourself anymore. You scream his name through moans. Not bothered by the fact you have probably awoken the boys by now.

He picks up his pace, not letting go of your hips. With every thrust reaching a special spot inside you. The pressure of your climax is strikingly close. Pauls breath tells you he is also nearing his climax

With one last thrust you feel yourself unveiling. You and Paul come together in a blissful mix of breathy moans and sweaty body’s. You immediately feel all your stress fading with your orgasm.

Paul kisses your forehead and you go back to your spooning position. Still out of breath. You cuddle for a while before falling asleep

[sunflowersinthedirt]

GOLDEN SLUMBERS | PAUL MCCARTNEY 🎸

fluff and angst, very needy reader! mentions of weed, cigarettes and alcohol. also mentions of beatles get back/let it be period.

1969!paul mcbeardy.

again, sorry for any typos. english is not my first language and gifs are not mine.

- X -

I was freezing when I decided to go to bed. I drank wine, but not as much as when I'm in Paul's company. It's night, and even with alcohol, Martha, and a fireplace, nothing seemed to warm me up. Maybe I missed Paul.

It had been a couple of days since he slept with me. Get Back and Twickenham were taking up a lot of his time. He seemed grumpy when he got home, but always took some time to cuddle with me as if the external problems that working with his band for the past 18 months were causing. Martha had become my biggest companion in this house, following me wherever I went.

When I got into that bathtub, I didn't think I was that sleepy. I dozed off lightly, and when I felt the water getting cold, I decided to get up, dry off, and go to bed. Martha had been sleeping in her bed for ages. There were some beds scattered around the house for her to rest, as she was a very calm dog. I put on one of Paul's shirts to feel like he was there with me... I had no idea what time he'd be back and he hadn't confirmed anything with me. I inhaled his scent embedded there and turned to the empty side of the bed.

It didn't take long for me to fall asleep. I didn't know if it was the alcohol, the tiredness, the longing... I just know I fell asleep. But it wasn't light sleep, as I woke up every half hour to turn over. Until I felt a chaste kiss on my lips but no weight on the other side of the bed like I wanted. Paul had arrived but hadn't lain down. I could hear his footsteps on the stairs followed by the jingling of Martha's paws. I was alone in that room and it left me feeling colder and longing for their company.

Wrapped in a blanket, I went downstairs feeling small and fragile. I didn't care that the king-size blanket I was wrapped in was dragging on the cold floor.

I heard the sound of piano notes in the living room, something between C Major and a murmuring voice. Paul rarely came home from work and continued working. It wasn't difficult, but Paul didn't like to bring work home. I thought he might be stressed enough not to lie down or not be sleepy.

I approached the piano, saw his figure with downcast eyes, long lashes brushing his cheeks. Paul hummed quietly, noticed my presence, and stopped playing, focusing his attention on me.

"Did I wake you, love?" he asked in an affectionate tone. His tired eyes opened wider.

"No," I replied sleepily, coming closer to him.

"Sit here." He tapped his left leg and made room for me to sit on his lap.

I sat, wrapped in that blanket. Paul adjusted his arms to give him mobility to play the piano keys in front of him, and I hugged him around the waist, snuggling against his larger body.

"S' Much better this way..." he said, his accent strong and drawling, his voice low and husky. I could feel the vibration of his voice and hear his heartbeats. I rested my chin on his shoulder, and he stole a kiss from me. His now-full beard tickled my cupid's bow.

This was what was missing. I felt so relaxed in his company. Paul continued to play the piano.

"Couldn't sleep?" I asked, my eyes were almost closing again.

"No, love. I came home with a melody pounding in my head." He answered, still playing the piano. He smelled of tobacco and herbs. He had been smoking more than usual, and I knew he was stressed. "I'm sorry for bringing work home. I don't have the lyrics yet, but the melody got stuck in my head because I played it at Twickenham before coming here. I was the last to leave the studio today."

"I'd never be upset with you for that. Y’know." I rubbed my face against his beard. "Can you show me the melody?" I asked, sleepy. Martha was already snoring at our feet.

Paul kissed my forehead and continued playing the piano, murmuring some words. I struggled to keep my eyes open.

"Once there was a way..." he sang softly, playing the piano with his leg rocking me to sleep. He was making up these lyrics, or I didn't have such a sharp taste in lullabies like that. "To get back homeward." He repeated the sung sentence, my eyes closing slowly. I felt like a child again. Paul warming the chilly room, the blanket wrapping us like a cloak. "Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry... And I will sing a lullaby."

It didn't take long for me to fall asleep there in his lap, listening to him humming that song. I felt at home and knew I was home.

"Sleep well, princess," he whispered, and suddenly I couldn't hear the musical notes he had played earlier on that piano.

- X -

i’ll take requests soon!

[heartofwritiing]

Oh woman, oh why

paring: paul mccartney x fem!reader

a/n: so this was a quick little thing i wrote on my phone the other night since i couldn’t sleep so enjoy! also why the tittle is this^ song because i was listening to it while i wrote it lol. requests are open!

warning(s): 18+ MINORS DNI!, fingering, slight Voyeurism kink i guess, me trying to write an accent and its short af.

everyone had gone to lunch and it was just you and Paul in the studio. you sat on his lap at his piano, your head thrown back onto his shoulder as his hand was beneath your skirt, his fingers worked on your bud in small circles. Pauls other hand was up your sweater kneading your left breast as his lips worked on your neck. You had been so frustrated today, weather it was the traffic on the way to the studio or forgetting sheet music and just other things that had been going on with the band recently. You just needed a release, and Paul being the gentleman that he was saw fit to give it too you. You let out a soft moan when he moved his middle finger down to your opening and slid in while his index continued to rub your clit.

“feel good?” he mumbled into your neck.

all you did was moan in response and nodded your head hurriedly. He chuckled against your skin and you could feel the warmth of his breath and his beard tickle your skin as he sucked a purple bruise into your neck. You could tell he knew how to play you like one of his instruments. The way he would curl his fingers just the right way in your cunt, had you squirming. Like he was picking at his guitar strings, the thought had your toes curling. His finger sped up inside you, pumping in and out and you brought your hand up to his hair to grab at something. When he took his other finger off your clit and slid it inside, you gasped at the feeling. Your legs closed and squeezed around his hand so he could barley move.

“no, no, none of that, come on spread your legs for me darlin’.” His accent came out all husky as he directed you to which you immediately obliged and spread your legs wide. He groans at the sight and pumps his fingers faster.

“you like this don’t you? having your legs open for’me, knowing that any one of the lads would walk in and see you all a mess on my lap.”

“please, Paul i’m gonna-” your breath caught in your throat as he was grazing your sweet spot with the tips of his fingers. He grazed it again and again and you gasped.

“is my little baby gonna cum?” his lips were right against your ear and it made you shiver and whine at his words. You could all but nod and he chuckled once more.

“go ahead and cum honey.”

You let out a moan and came all around his fingers and slumped back against his chest as you came down from the high of your orgasm. Panting and out of breath you stood up and Paul slid his fingers out of you. You and turned around to face him and sit on his lap again and his fingers were inside his mouth tasting you.

“feel better?” he asks.

you nodded and leaned forward to give him a kiss to which you could taste yourself on his tongue.

“Thank you.” you said once you pulled away. He pulled you back into his chest by your hips and nudged your nose with his in affection.

[designersophisticate]

Tumblr needs more Paul McCartney fanfiction. Preferably where he's getting it on with a nameless, faceless female so I can pretend it's me because if I had a time machine, one of the items on my bucket list would be to have as much sex with late 60s-era Paul McCartney as I could conceivably get away with.

[strawberrykittyart]

February’s entry ~

[blackberry-gingham]

Imagine meeting Paul for the first time at a park when he’s out with Martha. Martha gets loose and makes her way to the reader who ofc begins to coo over what a good girl Martha is. As their distracted by Martha they don’t even realize at first who her owner is and start casually chatting about Martha with Paul.

*Gasp* aaaaw, I love this 🥺🥺

Also, this is a good time for a quick PSA to all my readers!

If you have a veeery specific little scene or scenario like this with one of the boys, it's actually a bit easier for me to just write you a one shot for it instead of my usual headcannons or an imagine. Those are better suited for like general scenarios and stuff involving more then one of the boys imo but yeah, feel free to distinguish if you want me to keep it to a bullet point imagine, or get nitty gritty with a one shot! Just some fyi :D

Anyway I hope this one shot format is ok for you nonny, please enjoy!

---

It's a sunny fall day and you're enjoying a book, a hot drink, and a blanket on the grass as you relax in your favorite little park.

The sound of children playing and dogs barking can be heard in the distance. A gentle breeze rustles your hair and the pages of your book. You look up to enjoy it's fleeting caress and then wave back to the kind young woman jogging by.

You love this park. Amongst all the chaos in your daily life, this place is your safe haven.

With a sigh of relaxation, you return to your reading. It's a fantastic novel, and you're so lost in it that you almost don't hear the approaching sound of barking and galloping paws.

Almost.

You snap up to attention just in time to intercept a large, but friendly sheep dog. The dog gives your face a lick before backing off a bit. Her tail wags wildly behind her as she goes down into the universal dog position of "let's play". She tilts her head and gives you a little yap as she awaits your response.

Well, who could say no?

You take her shaggy head in either hand and scratch her ears. "Hello there! What a good girl you are!"

It's a phrase she appears to be very familiar with, as she wiggles her whole body, coming closer so you can scratch her sides.

"Maaaarthaaaa-!", a voice calls a little ways off, but you're far too distracted to pay it much mind.

Your new friend is now licking all over your face, still wiggling with glee as you scratch and tell her how wonderful she is.

At last the sound of someone who seems very out of breath can be heard a foot or so away. "Martha, you naughty girl!", the man's voice addresses the sheepdog chidingly, then takes on a different tone to speak to you. "I'm so sorry, she just ran off!"

You can hear that the man has begun giving Martha some scratches, which is only confirmed when she stops licking you to return some affection to her master.

"Oh it's no problem!" You laugh as you begin to dry your face.

The man laughs as well, "Well thank you for saying as much at least. Here, can I help?"

He dries the remainder of the wet patches with what feels like a handkerchief, or perhaps a bandana, then hands it to you to so you can do your hands.

You thank him and finally are able to open your eyes. And that's when you see...

Paul McCartney, in all his bearded glory, kneels before you with the one and only Martha wagging beside him. You're amazed you didn't recognize his voice before, especially considering what a longtime fan you are.

You freeze for a moment, trying to get your bearings. What should you say?

"Oh! Uh, thank you Mr. McCartney", your voice shakes a bit as you hand him back his bandana. "I um, I'm such a huge fan", you laugh nervously, half shy and half in shock that this is even happening.

Paul chuckles and pets Martha at her insistence. He turns back to you, "Well it's always nice to meet a fan! Makes it easier to get off when ol' Martha's causing trouble", he winks at you, then coos at Martha "Isn't that right?"

She barks happily back, blissfully unaware of the slanderous accusations.

You smile and scratch Martha's hip, "Well I can't possibly imagine she's that much trouble!"

"Ha, I think you'd be sur-"

No sooner have the word left his mouth then when Martha whips around at your affection. In her excitement she topples your drink, spilling it everywhere and splashing a bit against her side.

You gasp and jump to rescue your book and your clothes, only for Martha to shake a splattering of hot liquid all over you and Paul.

Shrieking with laughter and surprise, you shield yourself. Paul recoils as well until Martha's dried herself sufficiently.

"Oh Martha! Look what you've done!" Paul scolds her as you try to clean up the mess a bit. You get off the blanket and declare it a lost cause as you roll up the sopping mess and stuff it into your bag.

Martha whines apologetically, while Paul apologies again. Without even asking he goes to help you, picking up your cup and it's lid. He takes out the bandana again and hands it to you to dry off once more.

"Thank you, but you don't have t-"

Paul stands up with the paper cup pieces as you wipe away the coffee. "No no, it's the least I can do", he smiles genuinely and throws the remains away in the nearby public trashcan.

All packed up, you rise and meet him halfway with Martha trailing behind. You hold out the little bandana and thank him for everything.

"You know what? Why don't you keep it", Paul smiles up at you, while clasping on Martha's leash.

Your heart jumps with excitement as you hold the souvenir close, "Thank you! I don't know what to say!"

Paul bites his lip and looks away for a moment and then back at you. "Well... We could always grab you a new coffee, you know, while the words comes to you"

He smiles innocently while you process the request.

"My treat?", he adds, as though you need more incentive.

At that Martha has snapped out of her sulk and begins barking and jumping up on Paul excitedly. He rolls his eyes and groans in playful exasperation.

"Down girl, down!" You laugh while Paul tries to settle her.

Once Martha has returned to the ground, still barking and wagging, Paul looks back at you, awaiting your answer with baited breath.

You say yes.

[lennonknowsmysins]

McBeardy seems like he'd cling to you like a koala. Imagine being curled up in bed with him having deep conversations and sharing kisses

“I like yer nightlight.”

You blushed as you pulled your shirt - Paul’s shirt - over your head, glaring at the little yellow light plugged into the wall. It was embarrassing being a twenty four year old who still slept with a nightlight but it made you feel safe.

...and normally you remembered to take it out when you had guests staying the night.

“I get scared sometimes.” You defended, crossing your arms. Paul grinned and beckoned you over to his spot on the bed. You padded across the room and crawled into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting him plant a soft kiss on your lips.

“And what does my brave (yn) get scared of?” Paul inquired, playfully cocking an eyebrow. With a sigh, you dropped your head on his shoulder.

“It’s silly.”

“No, it’s not.”

Paul’s voice was a mix of stern and gentle. You nuzzled his neck, his beard tickling your forehead. He’d used your shower and you could still smell the lavender soap he’d borrowed.

“Sometimes it’s ghosts. Sometimes it’s strangers sneaking in to steal me away. Sometimes it’s the inevitable ticking of time.” You listed off, over exaggerating your tone dramatically, “I know it’s a little stupid to still keep a nightlight but the rule is that so long as there’s light, nothing can hurt you. Kinda like hiding under the blankets.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid. I think it’s practical.” Paul tilted your chin up, giving you a chaste kiss, “But you know I will always protect you.”

You sat up and took his face in your hands. Underneath the unruly beard, the shaggy hair and the bags under his eyes, you could still see the same Paul McCartney you’d fawned over as a teenager. He just seemed a little more human now.

Now you kissed him, slowly and sweetly, the both of you melting into it. He placed his hand on the back of your head, threading his fingers through your hair. His lips were soft, his touch was soft, his voice as he murmured how beautiful you are was soft.

You pulled away when Paul tried to sneak his tongue in your mouth, “I don’t want to do that tonight. I just wanna sleep.”

He nodded understandingly, “’course, love.”

Without warning, he flipped you over and you landed on the bed with a bounce and a giggle. He let out a groan as he flopped back, stretching out before pulling your back to his chest. You fit together like a puzzle piece.

“You sure you don’t want me to be the big spoon?” You asked, knowing how stressed the man had been.

“Mmh, I like being the big spoon. I feel like it gives me some sense of control without being too overbearing, y’know?” He thought aloud, swinging a leg over your’s. You rested an arm over the one he had wrapped around your waist.

“You like being in control, don’t you.” You commented, running your thumb over his knuckles.

“Control sounds so overbearing. I’d say...that I like being in charge. So long as everyone’s okay with it. Gives me a sense of security. I know I’ll be satisfied with a song if I’m the one arranging it and I know I’ll be satisfied if I’m the one that gets to come home and make my lover feel good.”

“Natural leader, you are.” You giggled, turning over in his arms and resting your head against his chest. You listened to his steady heartbeat as it played a million different songs to try and mask the sound of it constantly trying not to break into pieces. Paul could throw you around in bed all he wanted and act as tough as he pleased, but he was still one of the most sensitive people you knew. He just didn’t want the whole wide world to know that sometimes he cried.

You spoke again, “Being in control is kind of like your nightlight.”

Paul thought for a moment. His hand reached up and covered your hand on his chest, his thumb slipping under your palm. With no warning, he kissed the top of your head lightly.

“You’re my nightlight.”

[paulsmashedpotato]

heeeeello i feel like not too many people are doing prompts these days and i love u for doing them so i was wondering if i could request something with paul? even though u already did hehe with 59,69 and 70 i think? kinda like both him and y/n are drunk at his party in his house and he tells her she can stay for the night or something and perhaps they both confess their looooove for eachother and end up fooling around but CONSCIOUSLY ofc

Aww thank you! I appreciate the asksss!! 👁💋👁

Masterlist

Sober

Pairing: Paul McCartney x reader

Word count: 1.4k

“Paul!” You called, the moment you saw him in the pool of people. He turned around, a huge smile finding its way to his face. “I thought you weren’t goin' to make it!” He said, squeezing past the people to greet you in a hug. “I got stuck in traffic, sorry,” you said sheepishly, hugging him back.

“That’s alright," he smiled, taking your hand. “Come on, let’s sit with the guys."

He guided you through the crowd, the rest of his friends immediately running to you to hug you. “You look lovely," Ringo said, pulling you into a crushing hug. “Thanks, Rich. Not too bad yourself,” you grinned, hugging him back. It was a long hug that it made Paul impatient. “Right, that’s enough," Paul said, lifting Ringo’s arm. “You’re gonna crush her before she even gets to drink.” 

“You know, Ringo, it’s not a good idea to show y/n some affection when Paul’s around," George said lazily as Ringo went back to sit beside him. “Paul will spend the rest of the night glaring at you.”

John laughed with him and you just playfully rolled your eyes at them, seating next to John. 

“Drink?” Paul asked, holding a bottle of vodka and motioning at the glass in front of you. “Sure," you smiled. He smiled back before pouring you a drink. He sat down across you, pouring himself a drink as well.

“So y/n, did you find a date yet for your friend’s wedding?” John asked, leaning an arm on the table. “Yeah, I think I’ll go with a mutual friend,” you replied unenthusiastically, taking a sip of your drink. The boys coughed, exchanging glances at each other. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked, completely clueless about their weird behaviours. “Nothing... just... don’t you want to go with P — OW!” John yelped, rubbing his shin. “Are you okay?” You asked in concern. “Yeah, I think a dog kicked my shin,” he said through gritted teeth, glaring at Paul. “A what?” You looked under the table to see what he was talking about, there was nothing there, just a bunch of plastic cups.

“There’s nothing here, I think you just hit it on the table’s leg,” you said, sitting up straight and pouring yourself another glass. “Do you think it’ll bruise?”

“Wait," you said, getting up. “Where are you going?” Paul asked, rushing next to you since you were already a bit tipsy from all you’ve drank. “I’ll go get another bottle, s’empty,” you said, pointing at the bottle. 

“Don’t worry about him, he’s fine,” Paul said, smiling at you. “So, tell us about this wedding, when is it?” He asked, leaning forward on the table as if waiting for you to start telling him the greatest story there is.

You started talking about it, your friend, the venue, the food, everything that you could possibly talk about related to the event until the conversation jumped into another topic which you don’t even remember how it happened but you seemed to be getting more and more drunk the longer you were talking. 

“You’re going to get shitfaced," he said, letting you sit on the stool. “That’s alright,” you said, grabbing it from him again. He sighed, sitting beside you and filling both your glasses halfway. You started talking about random stuffs, completely forgetting about going back to the other three. You didn’t even realize how long you’ve been talking when Ringo walks to you two, interrupting your conversation.

“I’ll go with you,” he said. You only nodded, walking away from the three with Paul.

You looked around the kitchen, your eyes spotting a bottle on the counter. “How about this one?” You asked, showing it to Paul. “Not that, that’s 96% alcohol, Y/n," he said, taking it from you. “But I want it.” 

“Everyone’s left already, I’m gonna go too,” he said, patting Paul’s shoulder. “I’ll see you,” he said, ruffling your hair before walking out. You both watched him walk out, the sound of the front door locking was the last sound you heard before you two were immersed in silence.

“It’s late," you mumbled to yourself, looking at the wall clock. “Can you stay the night?” Paul asked, you felt a small tug on your stomach for whatever reason. “You can’t drive. Too intoxicated," he added, “I have an extra room, you can sleep in mine.”

“I can sleep in the extra room," you said, mindlessly twirling your glass. “It’s too messy so stay in mine," he insisted, pushing his glass to the middle of the counter to avoid breaking any more glasses.

“Is that fine with you?” You asked. He just nodded, grabbing a glass of water and handing it to you. He walked you to his room after showing you where he’d be sleeping.

“Just... call me when you need something," he said, standing at the door. “I will, thanks, Paul,” you smiled, sitting down on his bed. “Goodnight," you both said. He closed the door, leaving you alone in his dark room. His smell on the bed sheet may have sobered you up a bit. 

“Can’t sleep... Bed’s too big.”

After a few minutes of trying to go to sleep, you let out a loud groan, getting up and walking to the extra room he was sleeping at. You knocked lightly, hoping he wasn’t asleep yet. You slightly opened the door, poking your head in. “Paul?” You called in a whisper. He sat up, the comforter falling to his lap. “Are you okay?” He asked.

"Were you sleeping?" You asked worriedly. He shook his head. "D'you need anything?"

He fell silent, trying to process what you’re trying to say. 

He sat on the bed, leaning on the headboard while you were lying down, just looking at the ceiling. “You’re not tucking in?” You asked, your voice breaking to a whisper. “I’m not yet tired,” he said. You just nodded, pulling the blanket over your shoulders. You faced the other way, staring at the dark wall.

“Do you need me to come over?” He finally asked, you swallowed the lump that you didn’t even know was forming in your throat. “I-is that fine?” You asked, feeling your face heat up a bit.

He smiled, getting up and walking towards you. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders from behind as you both walked back to his room. “Can’t stand being without me?” He playfully asked. You only replied with a laugh.

“Can I say something?” You asked. He didn’t say anything so you went on. “I’m confused.”

“About?”

“Us,” you said, the single word making Paul nervous. “I know we’re friends... just friends... but sometimes I kinda hope we’re more than that," you gave a downturned smile. Paul was just looking at your shoulder rise and fall every time you breathed. “Are you drunk?” He asked. 

“No...” You muttered. “I mean, I don’t know. I don’t feel drunk. I feel completely sober.”

He nodded even though you can’t see him. “I always thought you liked John... so I — I never tried to... you know. You looked like you enjoyed his company more and I just feel like you’re talking to me because you’re friends with the other guys I’m also friends with.”

You turned around, looking at him sadly. “How long has that been in your head?” You asked, placing a hand on his. He took your hand, giving it a squeeze. “Not too long ago,” he admitted, finally lying down and facing you.

“I like you," he said, moving closer to you. You smiled, cupping his cheek. “Are you drunk?” You asked, he shook his head with a smile. He placed a hand over yours and slightly moving his head to give it a kiss. “I really, really like you.”

“I want to kiss you.”

He pulled you closer to him, his arm locking you close to his body. You moved your head back a bit to look at him. “How so?” You asked.

He just shrugged, leaning his forehead on yours.

“I don’t see anyone stopping you," you grinned. He smiled, moving even closer, his lips brushed lightly against yours before finally kissing you properly. It was a sweet and gentle kiss, you could perfectly feel his soft lips move in sync with yours until it turned into a passionate, heated make-out, his hands cupping your face. 

He moved on top of you without even breaking the kiss, his elbows propping him up a bit, you wrapped your legs around his waist. “We’re really doing this the first night, huh?” You laughed when you pulled away. “It wouldn’t make a difference when we do it again three weeks from now,” he said, moving to your neck and trailing kisses down to your collar. 

“Wait — you’re not drunk, are you?” He asked, propping himself properly above you. “I’m not,” you sniggered, pulling him back down closer to you. "Good. We're both sober."

-

The rest is archived :-* You know how it goes hihi. 

[georges-brackets]

Heart of the Country

Paul McCartney x Reader

Summary: Domestic Fluff set on the McCartney Scotland farm.

Warnings: None :)

———————————

Martha barks loudly as you struggle to hang up a sheet on the clothesline, the heavy wind fighting against you. Your rain boots start to sink in the wet ground and your hair spins wildly around your face, the breeze twisting a twirling it in random directions. As soon as you are able to get the clothes pin to stay on one corner, the wind picks up, causing it to fly off of the line, pulling three more pins off with it.

“Let me help you with that” a voice says.

You turn and you see Paul standing there, holding the loose corner of the sheet with a friendly smirk on his face. You sigh and smile thankfully, stooping to collect the fallen clothespins. When you stand, Paul proceeds to secure the sheet, his own hair blowing wildly across his face.

Normally you would wait to do chores like this when the weather wasn’t so extreme but the bedding had to dry today in order for you to avoid sleeping on a bare mattress and the incessant rain you had had for the past couple of days had finally let up so decided to take the chance while you have it.

One part of you regretted the decision because it had proved to be a much more difficult task than you once thought. And one part of you was glad, because it meant you were able to simply stand here and watch Paul’s eyes as he focused on the task in front of him, the freshly risen sun casting a shadow across half of his face, the other half glowing a light yellow-orange colour.

He looked absolutely beautiful.

After setting the remaining pins down on your basket of laundry, you move to gently wrap your arms around his waist. His back feels soft and warm against your face and you can feel his muscles move underneath his shirt as he finishes fastening a final clothespin to the sheet. Slowly and sweetly, you feel him place his hands on top of yours, clearly savouring the moment as well.

After a minute or two, he very gently lifts your hands to loosen your grip and turns around before you can move away, quickly wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling close. You can now hear his heartbeat and the rhythmic breathing in and out. It was as if everything he did was calming to you.

As you two continue to stand there holding each other, your boots sinking slowly into the rain soaked ground, Paul lays his head on top of yours and closes his eyes, a content sigh leaving his lips.

If you could stop time, you would stay in this moment forever, soak in every last bit of body heat and never let his arms release you.

Love him endlessly if you could, and have him endlessly love you back.

[spaceyantique]

excuse me ma'am, top of the morning to ya *tips fedora* do you happen to know where can i find some of that Good Mcbeardy Smut™? any recs?

hmmm, i think @kalypsichor has written some? @casafrass also has some awesome mcbeardy in tandem with paul x reader x linda if you’re down for that (i don’t believe it’s in masterlist form, but their paul x reader x linda tag should have it). i actually just wrote a mcbeardy fluff thingy; you can check it out on my masterlist!

mcbeardy isn’t something i usually seek out, but if anyone has any other recs, drop them in the comments!

edit/update: okay kal hasn’t actually written official mcbeardy but it’s out there... i’ve read some but where exactly escapes me rn. probably bc it’s 2am

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

Why Don't You Stay; We've Got Tonight II (Paul McCartney x Starr!Female!Reader NSFW)

Find Part One Here

A/N: Y'all asked, y'all shall receive. Thank you all again for the support; I love writing for every single one of you.

I would like to also personally thank my Brainstorming Buddy/ Editor @strawb3rri-le. the last three or four fics I've posted, including this one, would not have been possible had it not been for you, so I thank you from the literal bottom of my heart for being the Lennon to my McCartney in this writing journey. Here's to many more wonderful stories to come! <3

Summary: You and Paul get intimate after agreeing to be there for one another.

This is also inspired by Bob Seger's We've Got Tonight, so be sure to listen to that for your own listening/ reading pleasure!

WARNINGS: SMUT, please don't interact if you're under the age of 18, I'll call your mom. Fluffy unprotected sex (Wrap it before you Tap it amirite?) ANGST; this fic gets SAD midway through, mentions of cheating/ exes being stupid, but there is fluff in the end which makes it all better. Swearing is a given, maybe a few typos.

This one is rated 18+ or R, so tread with caution ONLY if you're of age please, I cannot stress that enough!!!

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes. Are you?"

"I really am."

"Then there's nothing to worry about."

Paul was watching you from what little light was flooding through the window of his room. He could have asked you that question a hundred more times; but he just wanted to make sure you were comfortable.

He opened his mouth to inquire yet again, but you stepped towards him, lips connecting with his to ease his worries. You felt his tension melt away slowly, hands drifting down to hold your waist as you placed one hand on his chest, the other resting on his shoulder.

You pulled away slightly to glance at his sweater, and Paul watched you intensely as your hand slid down the fabric painfully slow, your fingers dipping into every clothed muscle on his torso until they were toying with the hem at his hips.

"... This should go," you suggested in a hushed tone, and after a moment of letting the recommendation settle in both of your minds, Paul let go of you, pulling it up and off him with your help, and the sweater fell to the carpet with a soft thud.

When your hand returned to his chest, now bare, you examined just how toned he was. You had no clue someone of Paul's stature could be hiding such a body under simple knit sweaters and turtlenecks; but it was a pleasant surprise.

As your palm drifted around his skin, feeling the light hairs on his chest, his own fingers couldn't help but drag along the uppermost edge of your own pyjama top. His gentle touch left a trail of goosebumps on you, his eyes following his fingers as his hand slowed to a stop above your heart.

"And, perhaps this, as well...?" Paul asked rather innocently, eyes flitting back up to meet your own gaze. You nodded a little, watching as he ran his tongue against his bottom lip. "Lift up."

You raised your arms for him, and felt your top slide up and off you, his fingers grazing your sides gently as he removed it from your body. Paul held it in his hands for a moment, eyes drifting down a little to look at the sight before him. The top fell to the floor, along with his discarded sweater, and you both stared at each other for a moment.

Paul's eyelids lowered and he sighed at you, hands reaching out to hold you again. He cupped you at the base of your ribs, his thumbs drawing nonsensical patterns on the skin under your breasts as he closed the gap between you again. As your lips pressed together, Paul slowly walked you back to the edge of his bed, where you lowered yourself to sit when you felt the mattress against the back of your legs.

He dropped to his knees in front of you, finally pulling away to look at you again. His hands moved up carefully to cup your breasts, and you shut your eyes. He gauged your reaction to his touch, and feeling his thumbs run gently over your nipples made your head drop back. You whined a little, that familiar, yet longing feeling you hadn't experienced in a while was making itself known deep within you.

His hot breath was fanning against your skin, and Paul asked you in the most delicate tone, a simple, yet effective, "May I?" And all you could do was nod to him.

You whined again when Paul's lips made contact with your breast, his left hand kneading the other carefully as his right squeezed your side in affection. You slid your hands up through his hair, and you felt him moan against your left nipple as his other hand rolled your right one between his fingers.

You both had to try your best to keep on the quieter side since it was so late; and no one else should have known what you two were doing. Unfortunately, Paul's... handiwork... wasn't anything to be quiet about.

"Paul," you choked out, tilting your head up a little, and he removed his mouth from your nipple to look you right in the eyes.

"You like that?"

"Yes," you nodded your head rather frantically, spurring him to get right back to work, but switching sides, lips and tongue teasing your right breast as your left now gained the attention of his fingers.

Your knees fell away from one another as you tilted your head back again, breath ragged as Paul worked his magic. You felt his hand slide down your waist to drag along the band on your pyjama bottoms, but he was in no rush to tell you to take them off.

His hand actually continued to slide down to your thigh, and he squeezed you gently as you felt his tongue swirl around your nipple, and you rolled your hips against his body on reflex, choking out another whine as you tugged at his hair a little harder. He smiled with a pleasant hum before pulling his mouth away from your body.

You huffed at the cool air hitting your wet breasts, but he placed another warm kiss on your lips, one of his hands holding the back of your neck, and your discomfort faded away almost instantly. His other hand was still on your thigh, but slowly trailing back up to the waistband on your pyjama bottoms.

Paul deepened the kiss just for a moment as his finger hooked into the band. When you both separated again, he rested his forehead against yours, heavy eyes opening to look at you.

"Isn't it about time these go, too?" There was something so carnal about his words, yet they still held an abundant amount of respect for you, and your comfort; and, dear God, it turned you on so badly.

You didn't even respond to his question. You just removed your hands from his hair so you could support yourself from the mattress from your elbows, raising your hips off the bed a little so he could pull the rest of the clothes off your body. You watched as Paul did just that, your bottoms relinquished to the pile of clothes building off to the side, your legs not so spread apart anymore.

It looked as if he were in a trance, hands on your thighs as he examined your nude body in fascination. You watched him watch you, still propped up on your elbows, and you felt almost embarrassed under his gaze until he mumbled, fingers kneading into the tense muscles on your legs, "perfect. Absolutely perfect."

You blushed as he tenderly spread your legs open, unhurriedly, and he groaned at the sight of just how wet you were for him.

"Oh, Darling..."

Your face felt so hot, especially when you watched him lick those damned lips of his again.

"I want to taste you, you look so damn sweet." His thumbs continued to massage between your thighs, and you could feel yourself getting even wetter. You felt like you needed to return the favour.

"I... Did you want me to--"

"No," Paul interrupted lightly with a simple shake of his head. It was like he read your mind. "Keep moaning, keep pulling my hair. Those beautiful noises you're making have me feeling the best kind of way right now."

Every word he said contributed to enhancing the pit of arousal you were feeling within, and you were almost speechless. No one had ever spoken to you that way before, not even your ex, the one with whom you felt you shared your most intimate moments with. But after what had already happened in that room, between you and Paul, comparing them was out of the question.

You could feel his breath against your heat, your blood pumping loud in your ears.

"Paul, please..." you whispered, but he just stared at you, fingers still rubbing your thighs.

"Please what, Lovely?" You knew he was doing this on purpose, especially when he rested his head down onto your left leg to give you those alluring puppy-dog eyes.

"I can't give you what you what you want if you don't tell me what it is you need."

Your mouth formed a few shapes without you making a sound. You sighed, breath shaky as you gathered enough composure to groan, "I need your mouth. Please."

"Where?" Paul asked innocently. You were secretly loving the way he was teasing you, but on the other hand, you were beginning to feel desperate for his touch. His left hand reached up towards you, and a single finger rested against the skin between your breasts.

"Here?" He questioned softly, dark eyes watching you as you shook your head. He dragged his finger so painfully slow down your body, stopping at your abdomen to ask again.

"What about here?"

"Please," you were begging him at this point, but Paul continued to take his time, drawing his finger lower, and lower, until he was just above your folds.

"Just little lower," you pleaded to him desperately, and when you finally felt him pull his hand away to hold your thighs apart, you knew he was done playing games with you.

He gave you one more sultry look before dropping his head between your legs, tongue gently lapping away at your arousal, and you cried out his name. He opened his eyes to watch you react from his place as he continued rolling his tongue against you at an even pace.

You lowered your back to the bed, legs instinctively trying to squeeze together at the feeling of Paul's sweet mouth where you needed him most, but he continued to hold a firm grip on your thighs to keep them in place.

His beard scratched at your legs a little, but in the best kind of way. His nose bumped against your clit and your hands found their way back into his mess of locks again, tugging and driving him closer to you. He moaned against you, the vibrations shooting a chill up through your body.

He pulled away a little, mouth shining with your arousal, and his eyelashes lowered over his eyes as he mumbled, "Oh, my dear, you taste better than I ever dreamed you would."

Your heart was pounding against your ribcage, the idea of such a beautiful man dreaming about being between your legs and tasting you, and wanting this had you feeling some kind of way.

"Please, don't stop," you whined gently, and he responded with a quiet laugh.

"Oh, my sweet girl, I'm nowhere near being done with you yet. Don't you worry."

A mix of relief and lust rushed your emotions, and Paul's eyes continued to watch you as he let go of your right leg, hand coming up to his face before putting his middle finger in his mouth.

You stared in anticipation as he pulled his saliva-covered finger out from between his lips before plunging it right into you, and you cried out again, tears of pleasure welling in your eyes as you pushed your hips up against his hand.

It was Paul's turn to stare, and you felt him curl his finger inside of you before adding another and repeating the beckoning motion again, free hand pressing your hip down to keep you from moving so much.

"You okay, Lovely?" He asked in a low tone, watching as your body twitched and writhed with everything he did.

"Yes, keep going, Paulie," you whimpered, encouraging his hand to quicken before he dipped back down, lips wrapping around your nub, and all you could see were stars. Your hips rocked up again, and Paul released your waist a little to let you squirm around.

"Paulie, I'm gonna..." you stumbled over your words as you felt your orgasm nearing quickly, your hands balled into tight fists in his hair still. One more finger curl was all he had to do before you released all over them with a cry. You mumbled nonsensical speech as Paul pulled back a little and admired his achievement, your arousal dripping down his hand as he let you ride it out.

"That's it, do whatever makes you feel good, my angel." His praise was addicting, your eyes rolled back as you revelled in this state of euphoria. It wasn't long before your hips fell back onto the bed, and you sighed out when Paul removed his fingers from you.

You took a moment to fixate your gaze on him. His pupils were blown, staring at you in the face with his lips parted. You relieved some of the tightness in your fists so you weren't gripping his hair so hard, mumbling a whispered apology for being so harsh with that.

Paul responded to you, not with words, but by stalking up your body slowly, silently, as a predator would to its prey; and he pressed a kiss to your mouth, tongue pushing its way past your teeth so you could taste yourself.

You groaned, sitting up slowly as to not break the kiss. You reached down towards the belt wrapped around his hips, undoing it blindly and pulling it from the loops of his jeans. You needed him, and he was strained so tightly in those trousers, you knew it couldn't have been comfortable for him. You parted from the kiss, but keeping the distance close between you two.

"Are you positive you don't want me going down on you?" Your question seemed as innocent as if could have been, and Paul just smiled a little with another head shake.

"Baby girl, as long as you're getting off, so am I."

You hummed at his response. You hoped he wouldn't quit with the pet names. Your eyes glanced down to the jeans you were in the middle of taking care of, and Paul was already popping the button off them.

His eyes trailed back up to your face before he put his palm innocently over your heart, pushing you down onto your back again.

"Just lean back and relax, my sweet thing. You just stay there and look pretty while I take care of you. Make you feel good."

You watched him from your lying position as he moved to stand by the foot of the bed, dropping his jeans to the floor after wiping his hands off on them before he turned back to you. His stare didn't seem all that possessive and dark anymore like it had been during foreplay.

He was looking at you with a type of sincerity that brought warmth to your soul.

You were under a spell, unable to disengage from his stare, even when he climbed back onto the bed, and spread your legs apart again. He briefly looked away from you to position his cock properly, and you watched the concentration on his face morph into mild enjoyment as he circled the head around your pussy teasingly.

Your eyebrows furrowed as your legs crossed around his waist, and he looked up at you through his eyelashes. Those perfect pink lips of his parted, and he whispered to you with one more squeeze to your thigh, "are you ready?"

Your hands reached out for him, fingers clasping together at the back of his neck as you nodded your head. "I need you, Paul, Please."

"Don't worry, my Love. I'll give you exactly what you need."

And with an unhurried push of his hips, he was inside of you, and the most beautiful sound escaped his lips, in limbo between a moan and a whine, and the look on his face was blissful, eyes shut and mouth hanging open at the feeling of you.

You let out a deep, concentrated, pleasing sigh. It hadn't been forever since you last had sex, but it was definitely long enough. The stretch from his member filled you up in the greatest way; and Paul took it real slow for you.

"Fuck, you're so wet. So tight," he mumbled under his breath, exhaling deeply with every roll of his hips. His eyes drifted back open to watch your face, lowering his brow and whispering to you, "my Love, you promise to tell me if I'm ever hurting you?"

Your face flushed red at his words, and you nodded a little.

"Yes, Paulie. Absolutely." Your quiet response was uttered though little moans, a hint of emotion laced in your voice.

You were partial to that specific nickname. You felt you maybe liked it too much, but there was no denying that responding to it felt so right, and Paul, you felt, seemed to think regarding you that way was okay, as well. It made you feel like you were actually wanted, and you'd be lying if you didn't say you hadn't felt that way in a very long time.

Paul leaned down, arms on either side of your head as he kissed your lips, and you kissed back, fingers unclasping so you could once again run your nails along his scalp and through his hair. He groaned at the attention, rocking a little deeper now, and you pulled away from the kiss to whine at Paul's actions.

You arched your back as his movements sped up, and you could hear his breaths quickening as he settled on a steady pace. One of his hands slid in under your back to hold you closer, and he dropped his head into the cook of your neck.

He started placing kisses along the side of your throat, and then on your collarbone. "You have no idea... fuck... how long I've waited for you." He mumbled those words against your skin, and your conscience shot right awake from its besotted trance as you hyper-focussed on his words.

"I have been dreaming about this for so many nights... for so many years..."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Sure, you'd known Paul for a while, but never in your life did you think he was even remotely attracted, to you let alone actively fantasizing about the very moment you were both experiencing.

Your chest burned, intensely aware that as soon as this night was over, this feeling of togetherness, intimacy, and affection was going to die out like a candle flame, and you were going to be alone all over again. Your eyes were glassy with tears as you tried to draw Paul closer, opting to remove your fingers from his hair to wrap your arms around his body.

You began to push your hips back against Paul's, recieving a pleased hum from him. Your hands rubbed tenderly over the hot skin on his back as he continued to pour his heart out to you, breaking yours more with every word that left his mouth.

"My sweet Love; to think I've wanted you for so long... and now I have you. I'm the luckiest fucking guy in the world."

"Paul," you whimpered, head resting up against his shoulder as tears streamed down your cheeks from your eyes. You weren't entirely sure what came over you, but before you could even think, you were whispering to him, "please don't leave me."

"Never. My Love, I'll always be right here." His response was so effortless, and quick, and your ears seemed to be ringing again. He put his other hand at the back of your head, pulling you in closer as your bodies continued to rock together.

You could feel another orgasm nearing, and Paul must have known from the sounds coming from your mouth. He pulled his arm out from under your back to reach between the both of you, thumb toying with your clit as you cried out again, hips jerking harder and quicker against him, his own pace stuttering as he could feel the walls of your heat contracting against him.

"I-- I'm gonna..." you choked, and Paul rubbed between your legs even faster.

"Come undone, my Love," he encouraged weakly as he tried his best to keep going for you. You dropped your head back against the pillows and you cried out as another orgasm rushed you, more tears falling down your cheeks, as you returned to that feeling of ecstasy you were in only minutes before.

Paul leaned up, forehead and chest shining with sweat as he continued to pound into you, long hair matted against his skin as his pace fell apart, shuttering as he pulled out of you and came all over your stomach.

His head fell back, eyes falling shut as he called out your name, cum leaking out of him and all over you, but you were far from caring. His breaths were heavy as he gasped for air, and after a moment of allowing the both of you to come down from the high, he slumped back onto his arms, head rolling to the side so he could open his eyes and look at the mess he made of you.

"Oh, Love, I'm sorry about all that. Let me just..." Paul took another deep breath before rolling himself off the bed, wandering on wobbly legs towards the connected bathroom. You could hear the faucet running for a moment as you stared directly up at the ceiling, beginning to wake your body up with a little wiggle your toes.

That was, without any doubt, the best sex you'd had in your life. And as Paul returned to you, two damp cloths in-hand, you figured the intimacy was over; that you'd clean yourself up and be kicked out of the room.

But when he took a seat at the foot of the bed again, and he reached up to your tummy to wipe his ejaculation off your skin, you found yourself falling into another daze.

The cloth was warm, and Paul took his time sliding it over you to clean you up, not a single word coming from his mouth. When he felt he cleaned your stomach well enough, he reached for the other cloth, wiping the sweat gingerly off your neck, and chest.

Every move was calculated, and even when he moved to wipe up the mess between your legs, he was careful of how sensitive you were, free hand caressing your thigh while he remained largely focused on cleaning you up.

You felt the assault of tears burning your eyes again as you watched Paul tend to you, and when he looked up to your face and realized your expression, his own fell to one of worry.

"... you okay?"

You nodded your head weakly, that was until you felt him squeeze your leg again. Your bottom lip began to tremble, and your hands came up to your face as you sobbed into your palms.

"Hey, hey, Darling, what's the matter?"

Paul even sounded worried, climbing up the mattress to be closer to you. You curled up into a little ball on your side, and Paul put his hand on your arm, rubbing it up and down to comfort you.

"I... I..." you didn't want to tell Paul necessarily what you were feeling, because then that would have meant telling him you enjoyed him a little too much. More than you thought was maybe appropriate.

"Please talk to me, tell me what I can do to make this all better," he begged, and you took a while to respond to him.

"Hold me," you whimpered, and Paul, without another second passing, swept you up in his arms, cradling you as you sat in his naked lap. His right arm circled your back as his left coaxed your head onto his shoulder before he began stroking your hair.

Your arms lazily circled around him as you cried into his shoulder, and Paul pressed his lips into a line, tears of his own threatening to fall.

"Did hurt you? Did I do something wrong, Love?"

"Please don't think that," you choked back. "You did everything so right. And that's the problem."

Paul's eyebrows, which were knit together in frustration and confusion, began to relax at the realization of your words. You both knew you were going to have to elaborate a little more at one point, but Paul didn't pry. He just continued to stroke your hair and rock you, soothing you of your negative emotions.

You pulled your head away from the crook of his neck eventually, and you looked Paul in his sweet, doe eyes. "You're so kind. Too kind," you sniffled. "Half of me wants to actually listen to the words you said, but it hurts too much. After what he did to me..."

You thought back to your ex for a moment. That slimy, cheating bastard.

"I can't even pretend to believe someone would love me like that again, because he stripped me of all that trust."

Paul seemed a little hurt at your words, taking a moment to decide what he was going to say next.

"... You don't have to believe it now, but I know everything I said to you was the truth."

You felt your bottom lip quiver again, and he pulled his hand from the back of your head to cup your face.

"Everything. Even when you asked me not to leave. I can't be certain you were being serious about that, but I want you to know that I'm serious. I won't leave you if you don't want me to."

You couldn't help but tilt your head into his touch as your red eyes drifted closed. He placed a kiss on your temple, mumbling into your skin, "please believe me when I say I did have some doubts about all of this. But having you here, in my arms right now... I have never felt so sure about anything in my life. I'm never going to let anything happen to you ever again."

"But how can I be so sure?" Your question was barely above a whisper, and Paul held you tighter, and closer.

"You've occupied a special place in my heart for a long while, now. If anything were to try and hurt you, and I'm there to protect you, I'd be doing everything in my power to keep you safe."

You could feel Paul turn your head towards him, and you opened your eyes.

"I know our last relationships didn't end well. I know we're still hurting from the past... But you make me so happy. Like I have something worth living for, and can think about the future without wanting to look back at the pain I'm wanting to desperately leave behind."

You had more emotions stirring in your heart again, but they were ones that made you feel fuzzy inside.

"... Would it be so wrong of me to tell you I feel the same way about you?" You asked him carefully. You couldn't believe how poetic he could be just talking to you. He had all the right words to say at any given time.

"Absolutely not," he replied easily, one of the corners of his mouth twitching at the relief that the feeling was, in fact, mutual.

You reached up to cup his face, thumb drifting against his beard as he leaned in to kiss your mouth. And you let him. It wasn't to initiate anything, only to project affection unto you.

He pulled away after a moment, breathing a quiet "Please, Darling, stay with me, tonight."

You smiled sadly at his request, but you shook your head a little. "What about Rich? He's gonna find out everything." That was another nail in the coffin, Paul decided, he needed to pry out.

"Well, he's just going to have to deal with the fact that I need you," he responded matter-of-factly, and your heart ached at that.

"I don't think you have any idea just how long I've restrained myself from talking to you, let alone flirt or try anything with you. I used to care so much about what Ringo thought, but all that matters now is you."

Paul removed his hand from your cheek to caress yours holding his own face. He pulled your hand off so he could kiss your fingertips, smiling just a little to try and encourage one on your own face.

"It's just us now. No one else. Okay, my Love?"

All you could seem to do was nod your head, but that appeared to be enough for him. He gave you one more peck and a little hand squeeze before sighing. "Let's splash some water on your face and get us ready for bed, hm? I don't know about you, but the last ten minutes have been an absolute workout for me."

You blushed a little when Paul sent a wink your way, but you shifted off his lap and stood up, as did he. He took your hand in his again and guided you to the bathroom, and as you wet your face with the water under the faucet, he tossed the damp face cloths in the laundry bin next to the toilet.

His attention was back on you, and he tucked your hair back behind your ear, placing a kiss under your earlobe. You smiled a little at the gesture as you watched him through the mirror, turning the faucet off and dabbing your face dry with the towel on the counter. Paul settled another kiss at the crook of your neck, and then one on your shoulder.

"You feel any better?" He asked lowly, his words vibrating against your skin. You held back a chuckle by biting your bottom lip, setting the towel back down next to the sink.

"A little, yeah."

"As long as the answer isn't no, I can live with that." He smiled at your reflection, arms wrapping around your body as he kissed your shoulder one more time. You placed your hands overtop his, which were planted on your hips.

"C'mon, now," he whispered, one of his hands unraveling rom your body to drift to the small of your back and leading you back out into the bedroom. He left you briefly to pop the window open a little, and you climbed in under the covers, him following suit just a few seconds after.

You rolled to your side to look at Paul, and he did the same, propping up on his elbow and dropping his head in his hand, other arm reaching out so he could cup your face again. He looked so happy, having you so close to him. It was such a contrast to how you found him earlier that night, and the difference made you feel rather glad you were still awake at such a late hour.

"Thank you for everything tonight," he offered gently. "The drinks we shared, the dancing, the intimacy, for letting me confess everything to you, for staying... thank you for being you."

"Aww, why can't I say anything that romantic and poetic to you?" You whined a little, and Paul laughed gently, his hand drifting down to squeeze your arm lovingly.

"Y'know, there will be so much time in the future for you to woo me."

"If I can learn to be as quick on my feet as you, perhaps," you argued back playfully, shifting forward a little so you could curl up into Paul's chest. His hand dropped to your spine so he could pull you in a little closer, thumb rubbing gently against your skin.

"You'll get there, Lovely. Sweet dreams." You hummed a little as your eyes fell shut, the feeling of Paul's thumb caressing you, and the sound of the trees rustling in the wind outside, as well as the rise and fall of Paul's chest had you lulling to sleep in no time. He, on the other hand, remained awake for a long while, holding you close to him as if it were his only purpose in life.

He wasn't worried about anything anymore; not even about whether Ringo would find out about the both of you before either of you planned... Despite leaving the evidence of two alcohol glasses still sitting pretty on the coffee table in the den for him to find first thing that next morning.

Paul eventually fell asleep as well, arms enveloping you from the cool night air seeping in from the window leading outside. His heart was feeling fuller than it ever had before, and it was all because of you.

______________________________________

A/A/N: I hope this lived up to your expectations, I haven't written anything NSFW in YEARS, but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. Don't forget to like and comment, I love reading the comments on these :')

Permanent Tag List

@culturefiendtrashqueen

@strawb3rri-le

(If you wanna be added/ removed from my permanent/ specific tag list, or alerted when I post next, let me know! My ask box/ inbox is ALWAYS open!)

[radiobribri]

Could I possibly request a small smut with McBeardy (Paul with that amazing beard) doing some face riding or eating out; feeling all the little hairs tickle your thighs as you brings you so high you’re quivering with delight?

This was the request that @rogerina-deacon mentioned. I literally thought I ghost-requested this to myself because this is one of my absolute favorite Paul looks. Anon, are you my long lost twin? Are you me? Who knows

Paul McCartney x Reader - Scratchy

Word Count: Less than 900

Warnings: Cute fluff prelude to SMUT! (f receiving oral, unprotected sex)

You loved Paul with a beard. You thought it made him look dignified and mature, and hid the squishy baby face that he’d had since the early days with the band; well, more likely, the beginning of his days. It was almost symbolic in a way - his facial hair represented his breaking apart from his younger, more naive image.

He was a man now, and he knew it. You knew it, too - you’d seen it in his eyes as he held your child for the first time, weeping tears of joy. It was difficult, but you wouldn’t change it for the world. He hadn’t been sleeping well after the birth, and neglected to keep his face clean-shaven as usual. It started with a few prickly hairs around his chin, then his moustache filled in… Before you knew it, your sweet little girl was sitting up on her own and Paul had a full, dark beard.

You liked to play with it. Occasionally, you would comb your fingers through it, relishing the thickness of it. You’d help Paul trim it, making sure he cut it evenly. The funniest moment, though, was when your daughter was about 6 months old. She had pulled herself up to sit, propped up on her hands in front of Paul. She reached out her chubby little hand and yanked on his beard, pulling herself right down onto the ground, squishing her tiny head into the nursery carpet. She just laughed until her plump cheeks turned pink, and Paul was absolutely enamored.

He was such a good father - attentive, patient, gentle and loving. It warmed your heart to watch him with her, playing with blocks or reading to her. You always knew he would be a natural.

When you finally found alone time when she was asleep, though, he shifted his focus onto you. He made sure you always knew how grateful he was for you - the love of his life and mother of his child, the woman who carried and brought his daughter into the world. It always started with a simple kiss, and you always deepened it. After so many years together, you could read each other’s body language easily. You had given him something priceless, and he would gladly spend his entire life paying you back. Needless to say, he never left you wanting.

You relaxed onto the bed, feeling all the worries and struggles of the day melt away as his fingertips grazed your skin. He touched you with the utmost respect, planting reverent kisses to the skin of your breasts, your belly, your thighs. He was infatuated with your body, every stretch mark and dimple, even more so after the birth of your daughter. He was amazed that your bodies had created something so beautiful and incredible out of thin air. The hair on his cheeks scratched at the soft skin there as he latched onto your heat, pulling your clit into his mouth and sucking gently. He knew exactly what it took to get your back arching, fists gripping the sheets, and he always accomplished it.

He would bring you to orgasm time after time, your thighs clenching around his head before going limp. You were breathing heavy, begging him to fuck you before he finally caved. He would always ask permission before entering you, just to be sure. You knew he just liked to hear you plead for him, though.

“Please!” You would moan, jerking your hips down to meet his. Your arousal dripped down your thighs in rivulets, and his beard was wet and sticky from catching the fluids. You giggled breathily at the sight, and you could tell it excited him.

“Damn, you’re wet, love. All for me…” He growled, burying his face in your neck as he entered you. He bottomed out, an expression of pure bliss plastered on his face as he thrusted into you, mercilessly, with no plans of stopping anytime soon.

He had a certain knack of being able to hit that sweet spot inside you on every thrust, and at the pace he usually fucked you at, it would leave you wrecked. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you came one final time, lips parted, letting out a long, drawn out gasp. Your pleasure sent Paul over the edge, and you felt the prickling of his beard hairs on your cheek as his cock pulsed inside of you, spilling his seed.

After the two of you were cleaned up you’d just lay in bed for a while, catching your breath. You laid your head on Paul’s chest, feeling his heartbeat thump against your cheek as his warm presence lulled you to sleep, the dense mass of dark facial hair fluttering gently from his breaths as you fell into a pleasant dream.

Requests are: OPEN! Send me Beatles or Queen blurb requests! I write fluff and smut! My Request Info - My Masterlist - My WIPs

Taglist: @katiekitty261 @pichu-chu

[myukulelegentlyweeps]

Beatle ship #6

Anon asked : Could I have a Beatles ship please? I’ve always been on the shorter side and I have goldenishy longish wavy blonde hair and hooded brown eyes. I used to be really into volleyball and I’m a skier and drive an eight hour drive every other week to ski. I was raised in a coastal area and while most like it, I prefer colder areas. I’m currently in college studying Journalism and Creative Writing at the moment. Thank you. :)

A/n : Guys, this is it, we found the only sporty person on this website of potatoes! 

I ship you with Paul!

he finds you extremely sexy (I’m sorry that’s the first bullet point but it’s Paul we’re talking about)

 He loves your hair, likes to play with it and begs you to let him brush it though you’ve told him brushing wavy hair messes it up, makes it all poofy if you’re not careful

he calls you Rapunzel jokingly on occasion

Maybe at night in the bathroom when you’re doing your routine and he walks in on you while you’re untying your hair after a long day, he says in a very theatrical voice : “Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair”

and you only chuckle in response ; I see you guys having a very chill, lighthearted, fun bond

Paul would absolutely accompany you on your drives to the ski station, however long those drives may be

hell he would buy you guys a luxury chalet up in the mountains so you can spend the week ends there

two floors + jacuzzi and sauna

ski and unwind (plus -obviously- have another specific type of fun if you see what I mean wink wink)

because imagine being in a jacuzzi with a very horny pol kissing your neck

wandering hands beneath the bubbles

okay I’ll stop now but that would be a fun imagine to write (like if you want paul snowtrip smut)

Since you like cold weather you’re gonna love Scotland with McBeardy and Martha my dear

You guys met post-Beatles

You were working for a magazine down in London and you were sent to interview him about the Beatles breakup at his home in Kintyre

He welcomed you in, in the beginning he was mostly diplomatic and keeping it together

but you saw how tired he was, dark circles under his eyes, not in the best mood

so after three questions you decided you did not want to torment him further, despite the fact that you weren’t even close to finished gathering the information you were supposed to bring back for the article

“Oh, are you finished already?” “Not exactly, but ethically I can’t keep asking you questions that clearly upset you.”

He gave you a very strange look

the press are not usually this considerate, you caught him completely off guard

There was a short silence of him taking everything in and you packing your things with the intention of leaving

but before you could, he rose from his seat and offered you a tea

one cuppa turned into fifteen and you two talked all afternoon

eventually, at the end of the night, he kissed you and asked you to come back the following week to finish the interview

The rest is history :D

[givemequeen]

welcome back ; paul mcbeardy x reader

request: a wild concept for you to write 👀 reunion sex with mcbeardy like you two barely even say hi to each other because as soon as you walk trough the door his lips are on yours, and later you feel the beard tickling ur neck as he whispers sweet things in your ear and maybe you start whimpering and trembling cause its been a while since you have done it and its a bit overwhelming and he just whispers 'easy love, i got you, its been a while hasnt it?' while caressing your body and WOW MAN IM HORNY a/n: im lowkey happy with this? pairing: paul mcbeardy summary: reunion sex with McBeardy warnings: sex! LLL year: 1969? word count: 1009

The jingle of the keys could be heard throughout the house. You sat up in your bed and looked outside the bedroom’s door. It was him, he was back. You rushed downstairs taking two steps at a time and nearly falling down them. The door wasn’t even open yet but there you stood patiently waiting for it to open. Paul finally opened the door, he was looking down, probably tired from his trip.

When he saw your bare feet his head shot up to look at you. A smile quickly took over the frown that spoiled his soft-featured face. You smiled back and threw your arms around him. He caught you, stopping both of you from falling back. You buried your head in his neck, his bread tickling you. Paul took a step inside, his suit case by his side, and closed the door with his foot.

You pulled your head away and kissed him, your hands moving to cup his furry cheeks. Your fingers were deep in his beard as he kissed you back. You deepened the kiss rolling your body onto his, grinding softly onto his crotch. He chuckled and pushed you against the wall. You only pulled away for air, you both took the time to study each other’s faces, see what had changed during the time you spent apart.

“Yer so cute.” Paul murmured as he pushed your hair out of your face and kissed you roughly. His hand snaked up your (his) t-shirt and you heard him chuckle when he didn’t come across your bra. You melted in his arms as his hand cupped your breast. He massaged it and moved his mouth to that area. 

Paul ducked under your (his) t-shirt and sucked on your hard nipple. You laced your hands through his long hair and pulled on it. The vibration that came from his mouth made your knees weak but Paul had a firm grip on your hip that held you up. You whimpered at his touch and sweet words he whispered against your skin.

“Easy love, I got you.” he said kissing you softly. “It’s been a while, hasn't it?” he chuckled softly. You nodded and pulled him in for a kiss, your hand sneakily sliding down to his crotch. He bent forward at the feeling of your fingers around his hardening cock and his expression changed.

“Bedroom. Now.” he muttered pulling on your hand.

“Wait. Guest room.” you pulled him into the guest room and jumped onto the neatly-made bed. Paul smiled as he pulled the t-shirt he wore over his head. You watched as he shook his hair at of his face and wondered how you got to be with someone so stunningly beautiful.

He bit his lower lip and walked to you. You giggled, plopping your weight up onto your elbows to see him properly. Paul got onto the bed and pulled you closer to him by your hips. He slowly pulled your bottoms down and slipped off your underwear, planting a kiss on each centimetre he saw of your exposed skin. He started off with a kiss on the inside of your thigh and worked his way up. His beard making you tingle and wiggle under him.

Paul looked up to you, you had pulled a pillow under your head so you got a good view of him. He bit his plump, lower lip before pressing a kiss onto your core. You rolled your hips to get more pleasure. Paul gave in to your silent ‘please; and slipped his tongue inside of you. You continued moving your hips. He moved his mouth in sync to your movements.

Your breathing started getting quicker but you weren’t ready to cum yet. You wrapped your legs around his neck and pulled him closer. Your fingers went to his hair and you, with everything you had inside of yourself, pulled him away. Paul cocked an eyebrow and started at you, a puzzled look on his face.

“Inside of me.” you panted as you pulled your t-shirt over head. Paul grinned and nodded, his hands going to his belt buckle to undo it. You let your head fall back and listened to the rough fabric of his jeans drop onto the floor. He pulled his boxers off and hovered above you. Paul reached between you and rubbed his tip against your entrance.

His forearms were on either side of you holding his weight up. You looked up at him and admired the way his hair fell on either side of his face. His eyes were bright and happy, you hadn’t seen him this way in a long time. Paul leaned to kiss you and you giggled at the feeling of his facial hair. He chuckled as your giggles turned into moans.

A sigh came out from both of you when he bottomed out. He stretched you out something you missed, your hands went to his back as you clutched onto his shoulders. Paul started moving, nearly fully pulling out before slamming back in. You cried out his name, your nails digging onto his back leaving scratches across it.

His pace quickened and your moans got louder. Paul wasn’t shy either, he called out your name and told you how much he missed you. His mouth was soon attached to your neck. You wrapped your legs around his hips making him go deeper. “Fuck!” you yelled in unison at the new angle making you both laugh. He hung his head as he concentrated in making you both cum.

You came first, your walls clenching around him and whole body tensing up. Paul came a little while later filling you up to the brim and when he slipped out her closed your legs to make sure nothing would come out.

“Fucking hell yn, I missed ya.” he said reaching to kiss you. Paul rested his head on top of your chest and you took his opportunity to ran your fingers through his hair.

“I missed you too Paulie.” you replied, smiling as he purred.

tag list;

@thebeatleswritings  @beatlevmania  @i-love-queen-3000  @brians-metaphor26 @honimello  @julessworldd @storiesfrommirkwood  @beatles-babee  @geostarr  @thiccjelly17 @crab-king-69  @in-the-frap-of-the-gods

[kalypsichor]

Hc request! Paul x reader when he made her cry? (Maybe accidentally? The situation can be anything!)

lots of people wanting angst today! and who am I to deny it. here’s a lil blurb. I imagine this to be during the white album era, where tensions are running high and paul is going through his mcbeardy phase.

***

The sound of Paul scoffing interrupts Ringo’s laughter. The drummer had been showing you how to play his set, guiding your unsure hands to the various drums and cymbals. You were terrible, obviously, and both of you were giggling more than anything. 

“What’s wrong, Paul?” you ask. You try spinning the drumstick like you’ve seen Ringo do so many times and almost smack yourself in the face, sending Ringo into another fit of laughter. 

“Nothing.” Paul crosses his arms and leans against the piano, looking at you oddly. “Just thought we were payin’ you to actually be useful rather than flirt with Ringo.”

You’re too stunned by this to say anything, so Ringo speaks up.

“C’mon, Paul. We were just having a little fun.”

“Fun?” He brushes the word off like dust on his shoulder and sneers at you. “Darling, you can let Ritchie handle the drumming. Why don’t you get me a cuppa, hm? Or is that too much work for our assistant?”

“Fucking hell, you’ve got—“

“It’s okay, Ringo,” you mumble, getting up. Ringo gives you a bewildered look but you don’t see it, staring at the ground as you rush out of the recording studio. As the door swings shut behind you, you can just barely hear the beginning of an argument starting between the two of them. You’re so concentrated on the floor, trying not to cry out in the open, that you smack right into someone’s solid chest.

“Woah, hey—are you alright?“

And that’s all it takes for you to break into tears. George wraps his arms tentatively around you and you burrow into his embrace, hiccuping. You probably look gross, what with the tears streaming down your face and the beginnings of a runny nose, but George doesn’t seem to mind. 

“I’m sorry, I—I’m getting your shirt wet.” You go to pull away but George tightens his hold on you.

“’S okay. I’m here for you, yeah? Hare Krishna, love. You’ll be okay.” 

In George’s arms, you sink into the comfort of his words and eventually, your crying comes to a stop. Your eyes close and you rest your head on his shoulder. And when the studio door clicks shut behind you, a certain bassist swallowing the suddenly acidic feeling in his stomach, you don’t even notice.