#paul mccartney x you

[julia-lestrade]

Drew the Beatles today !!!!

[cherry-velvet-skies]

Feeling Two-Foot Small (Part 2)

Tiny!Paul McCartney x Tiny!Reader

Genre: Fluff with a sprinkle of intimacy here and there

Warnings: Some kissing and mention of nudity but nothing too crazy

Words: 3.5k

A/N: If you have not read Part 1 yet, please read that first for this to make sense! Also, there's a bit of canon divergence at the end but it's fine

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The remainder of the day was spent with you and Paul skateboarding around your house, hiding under tables and couches, while occasionally sneaking back to your room in an attempt to grab a fruit snack or pretzel stick without getting caught. The game only had to end because it was getting dark, and since neither of you could reach a light switch, the rooms soon became pitch black. You, unfortunately, didn’t have any doll-sized flashlights, and you both realized this could get dangerous when Paul tried to run away from you and only succeeded in running directly into a leg of your kitchen table.

“Do you think the swelling has gone down yet?” Paul groaned as he stumbled back to the socks you two were using as a couch. “My head feels like it’s pounding.”

“I’m not sure,” you replied, “on account of the fact that I can’t even see you!” The sun had fully set now, and there was no hope for either of you finding any light sources, much less being able to see a mere hand in front of your face. It was as if you two were walking around with your eyes shut. The best thing to do was just to stay in your room and wait until morning.

“I wish I could see your face.” Paul chuckled, reaching out his hand that wasn’t massaging his forehead. You had a similar idea, blindly flailing your own arms until your hands brushed each other in the darkness. You both yelped, not expecting it, but quickly searched again until they voluntarily rejoined. You smiled as Paul rubbed his thumb over the back of your hand. You were quite grateful in that moment that he couldn’t see how hard you were blushing, but then again, you couldn’t tell if he was doing it too.

“I would reach for your face right now, but I don’t want to poke you in the eye.” You stated, punctuating your statement with a giggle. Paul took your hand that he was holding and guided it up to his cheek. You stroked the soft skin there, feeling the minute layer of stubble near his jaw. Paul closed his eyes, although it didn’t matter if he did, but it was merely a factor of immersing himself in the feeling. Adopting a more relaxed attitude, you gently cupped his cheek and traveled higher, finding the small bump on his forehead. You attempted to move him closer so you could place a kiss atop the bruise, but the lack of lighting made you miss and instead planted a kiss right on his eyelid.

“Oh, sorry.” You laughed awkwardly.

“If I had bumped my eye into the table, you’d be golden.” Paul teased. He reached for your hand again, sensing that you tried to pull it away after being discouraged by your incorrectly placed kiss. “But this is nice though,” he continued, “just hanging out here.” You gave him a look of confusion, until you realized he couldn’t see it.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, for me, the last couple of days have been pretty odd. Like I mentioned earlier, with the whole sacrifice thing. But it’s not only that, you know! Aside from trying to save one of my mates from having his head chopped off, he’s got these scientists after him too! They want his ring so they could sell it and get a fortune for it, but the ring is actually the reason why he’s due to be sacrificed!” Although Paul’s expression wasn’t visible, you could tell this was going to take a while. “He actually wants to get rid of the ring, you know, but the problem is he can’t get it off. And that’s why we needed the shrinking serum! But then the doorbell rang and the woman who was administering it dropped the needle and it ended up in my leg and now here I am!”

You stood quiet, unsure of how to approach this. What ring? Who are these scientists? Is this the same woman he was mentioning earlier? Who knew a dream could feel so real. If this was any indication of the inner workings of your subconscious, you considered getting yourself evaluated.

“That does sound like some crazy stuff.” You tried, hoping to trick your brain into changing the subject. Thankfully, it worked. There was a brief moment of silence between you two, and while that normally wouldn’t have been so bad, the pitch darkness surrounding you sent your brain straight into the realm of horror stories. In your mind, complete silence and complete darkness should never go together.

“It’s far too quiet in here,” Paul huffed, his voice carrying a hint of wariness, “Can we just talk about something else already?” Your eyes widened. It was like he read your mind! Oh, wait. You had to keep reminding yourself that all of this WAS in your mind.

“Sorry,” you apologized again, though you realized it wasn’t necessary, “I’m still just thinking about how I kissed your eyeball.” Your face scrunched as you relived the incident in your mind.

Paul chuckled to himself. “Maybe you should’ve aimed for something else then.”

You froze, pondering his statement. You were almost certain you knew what he was hinting at, but didn’t want to make any assumptions. Paul had no problem assuming you didn’t get the hint, so he clarified himself.

“Have you ever heard the theory that two people can find each other’s lips in complete darkness with nearly one-hundred percent accuracy?”

You felt yourself choke on your spit when you gulped. You weren’t sure if he was just making a flirty joke, or actually suggesting that you two kiss. How could he possibly insinuate something like that when you two only met for the first time this morning?

Oh, right! This is only a dream! It’s all in your mind! That also means you never really kissed someone’s eyeball by mistake. You felt your confidence returning. Well, if none of this is real, surely a little kiss couldn’t hurt.

“Are you suggesting we test it out?” You fired back, your boldness now purely compensatory.

“As a matter of fact, I was.” Paul replied. The smirk he was wearing while delivering his comment was practically audible.

You giggled before grabbing his hand again. “Then let the experiment begin.” 

Guiding Paul’s arm closer to you, you took this opportunity to instead rest his hand on your cheek. You didn’t really know where to go from there, as you obviously still couldn’t see. And Paul’s hand was the only thing that you were certain you could find. What would happen if you blindly tried to reach forward again? Would you make out with his left nostril this time instead?

As you were silently contemplating your approach, you felt Paul’s hot breath against your face, signaling he was coming closer. Within seconds, you felt his lips make contact with not only your face, but your lips, your top lip nestled firmly in between both of his, using this opportunity to suck on your bottom lip as he kissed you. You still closed your eyes, even though it wasn’t necessarily needed, but it still felt right.

Using your adequate proximity skills, you slowly brought your hands up to cup his cheeks, stroking them with your thumbs. Paul sighed, and you could’ve sworn you heard him trail off into a whimper, but weren’t completely sure. Your hands moved from his cheeks to the back of his neck to pull him closer, running your fingers through his hair. Feeling the texture of Paul’s silky hair while you kissed him was enough to stimulate your senses to a more optimal level. Or, at least you thought it was optimal. It didn’t feel like a dream anymore. It all felt so real. Too real.

Your eyes shot open and you hastily pulled away, much to Paul’s surprise. “What’s wrong?” He asked you, immediate tension apparent in his voice. “Did you not like it?”

“I…I don’t know.” You replied quietly. “It wasn’t you, I just…I don’t know.” You crossed your arms, desperately trying to crawl away from this awkward situation. 

“Perhaps I came on too strong then, yeah?” Paul mumbled, silently fidgeting as well. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” You felt bad. It wasn’t Paul’s fault. After all, you were the one who created him in your mind.

“You didn’t do anything wrong. I was okay with it at first, but then…I don’t know what happened. It didn’t feel right.” You couldn’t properly explain yourself, and that was always your downfall. You felt uneasy, but couldn’t pinpoint why. In fact, Paul’s kiss was actually quite nice. There was just something about the whole thing that wasn’t sitting right with you.

It was too quiet again. But what was left to talk about? It seemed that anything you both tried, something was bound to thicken the air. It felt like even in your dreams, things couldn’t go well. You gave up.

“Maybe we should just go to sleep.” You stated. Paul didn’t respond, although he wanted to try and work things out. He didn’t want to ruin things with his new friend. Possibly even more than a friend. But definitely not at this rate. He thought it was wrong to keep the statement left open, so he added a meek reply.

“Alright, then.”

You weren’t sure what to do for sleeping arrangements. The floor was too hard to sleep on, and you knew your back would pay the price the following morning. But there was absolutely no way you felt like ascending your pant leg fire pole up to your bed right now. There had to be some kind of compromise.

Seeing no other option, you blindly felt your way down to the sock couch that you and Paul had been sitting on this entire time, pulling the top sock off of the bottom one. Paul heard you doing all this, but had no clue what was going on. He felt a breeze across his body when you tossed one sock towards him. “Here, take this to sleep in.”

“Sleep in?” Paul clarified, wondering if he’d misheard you. “But this is a sock.”

“Well now it’s a sleeping bag.” You said nonchalantly, slipping off your plastic shoes and getting comfy in your sock. “It’s all I have.”

“But you’ve worn these!” Paul exclaimed. “I’m not sleeping INSIDE of it!”

“Good luck freezing all night, then.” You quipped, knowing he'd give in eventually.

Paul put his hands on his hips. “But it’s the middle of May. It’s not cold.” You felt yourself stretching the elastic of the sock to restrain yourself from getting more annoyed.

“Well I don’t have any tiny little blankets lying around, so your only other option is to sleep on the floor. You wanna wake up stiff as a board tomorrow? Fine. Not my problem.”

Paul giggled. “I think that might happen regardless of where I sleep, love.”

“JUST GO TO BED!” You huffed, while Paul was still snickering to himself as he tried to get cozy on top of the sock.

The night went slow. You couldn’t sleep. Perhaps it was because you were technically already dreaming? So falling asleep inside your dream seemed counterintuitive. At one point, a small strip of moonlight had made its way through the small gap in your curtains, which were still shut since you were too short to open them this morning. Now that you could see a bit better, you glanced over at Paul, who was sound asleep. He was laying on his stomach, his arms stretched out in front of him, creased at the elbow to support his head. The lower half of his body was reluctantly nestled inside the sock. You assumed he got cold and conceded to the sleeping bag, seeing as he was trying to keep his body as far away from the toe pocket as possible. Despite your earlier misunderstanding, Paul seemed comfortable around you as if he had known you for years. He looked so peaceful. Perhaps that was your method. This Paul character you had created in your dream was the picture of everything you wanted. Confidence, optimism, and peacefulness. You gave it all to him, while you, the true human, were still stuck with all the worries. Your brain was quite the tricky one.

You zoned in on the tranquil rhythm of Paul’s breathing, pulling your sock tighter towards your body like a cocoon. You smiled to yourself, trying to reabsorb some of Paul’s innate tranquility. You could feel the background noise slowly become more muffled as you drifted off into a deep sleep.

When you awoke the following morning, you were cold. You felt the brisk morning air pass over your whole body with ease. Perhaps you had wriggled out of your sock in the middle of the night and ended up on the floor, as you felt the hard wood below with a much greater intensity than you did the previous night. What surprised you the most was a single area of your back that felt…oddly warm. You opened your eyes, only to immediately shut them again, feeling incredibly disoriented. You curled your body into a fetal position, plastering your hands over your face to stop your head from swimming. You didn’t drink, but yet you felt hungover. If what happened to you last night was actually a dream, is it possible for you to still be reeling from it? You kept your eyes closed, trying to sit up as slowly as possible. You felt the way your skin creased and folded as you sat upright on the floor. Yep, you were definitely naked.

Trying to open your eyes again, you prepared for the immediate influx of stimulation. You stared at the window, hoping the soft light from the sun behind the curtains would give your eyes something more palatable to focus on. You watched as your surroundings slowly became clearer. And judging by the visual perspective of your bedroom, you were back to normal size. 

You laid back on the floor, breathing a sigh of relief that the weirdest dream of your life was now over. Until you felt that odd warmth beside you again, followed by a raspy voice.

“I guess the serum wore off, then.”

Oh, no.

You look over to see Paul, also completely naked, laying on the floor beside you, one arm propping up his head as he wore a huge smirk on his face. Not knowing how else to react, you screamed, causing him to scrunch his face as he had just woken up. You tried your best to cover yourself with your hands, but didn’t have much luck.

“What are you doing here?!” You shrieked, now glaring down at the array of busted open socks and doll clothes wedged underneath the both of you. Last night was, apparently, not a dream.

“I didn’t do anything, I swear!” Paul exclaimed, holding his hands up as if to say he was innocent, only for his head to hit the floor with a thunk, as there was now no hand to hold it up. He winced, rubbing the back of his head dejectedly. “Ow.”

You were trying hard not to stare at Paul’s body, but you had to admit, he had a very attractive figure. If one thing was for sure, Paul was absolutely right about the whole “waking up stiff” thing…

“Wait, so yesterday…that was real..?” You mumbled, wondering if you were still actually dreaming. Maybe you were stuck in a perpetual dream loop. Perhaps you had left your physical body and this is where you’d be for all eternity.

“What do you mean if it was real?” Questioned Paul, “Didn’t you hear my whole story about the serum? And the ring? Did you think I made that up? Which reminds me, I should probably get going, so…do you have any clothes I could wear out of here?”

Your gaze darted around the room, looking for, honestly, anything. Firstly, some clothes for you, much less for Paul. But also for answers. Even if Paul’s story was true, which was highly unlikely, that still doesn’t explain why you shrunk too. Were you given a phantom dose of serum in the middle of the night by a different mysterious woman? None of this made sense. You were just about to get up when Paul spoke again.

“You know, even if you don’t believe anything I said, I hope you’ll know I’m being honest when I say I enjoyed our time yesterday.” You turned to look at him, your expression one of confusion. “Being that small and all, I felt…helpless. I felt like anyone could just step on me if they wanted to. Or…lift me up and take me away. I never expected to find someone that understood what I was going through. And for that I’ll always be grateful.”

And that’s when it hit you. Being small wasn’t a curse or a punishment. It was a teachable moment. An opportunity to remind you that, no matter how big or small you were, you weren’t alone. Even as you always felt that you had to navigate around all the big people who you were afraid would step on you, there was someone out there who knew how you felt. Who you were meant to meet. Having to make yourself small to make space for others wasn’t a problem anymore when you met someone who gladly made enough space for the both of you.

“I…enjoyed it too,” You replied slowly, “And I do believe your story, Paul. As for how I ended up like that, we may never know. But it was fun to have someone to play with all day.” You chuckled, and Paul joined you as you both reminisced of your rather impressive game of hide and seek.

Paul sat up, reaching for your hand that was trying its best to cover your chest. He took it in his own as you let it fall from your body. You saw things differently now that you understood. This entire journey had been a confusing one, but you hoped that this was the beginning of a new chapter in your life. One where you looked at not only the world with a bit more kindness and optimism, but also yourself.

Paul guided your hand to pull you closer as he captured your lips in a sweet kiss. This time, you felt calmer, and more accepting of what was to come. You dropped your other hand from concealing your lower half to softly grasp his shoulder. You sighed into the kiss, feeling your lips melt as his tongue pushed past them. You lightly pressed on his shoulder, leading him to lay back on the floor as you lay on top of him, your hands threading in his dark brown hair while his rested on your lower back. There was no sexual tension to it. No desire to grope at various areas of the body. It was content. Peaceful and romantic. It was the sweetest kiss you ever had.

You both laid there for a while, no rush to go anywhere or do anything. Except for the two minute break you took to get dressed, as you were starting to get chilly again. You took the liberty of loaning Paul one of your oversized hoodies along with some sweatpants, which fit him perfectly. Although, not knowing when you’d see each other again, you think that Paul might just own those clothes now. You were just about to resume your kissing session when you saw Paul do a frantic double take out your bedroom window.

“There they are!” He squealed. “Look!” You tried to see what he was referring to, and sure enough, there were three guys walking down the street. Two taller ones, and one who was a bit shorter, who was wearing a huge and borderline tacky ruby ring on his left hand. They were all dressed in dark suits, all with similar haircuts, all calling out Paul’s name. You couldn’t believe it. Paul was actually telling the truth.

“Sorry to bolt, but if I don’t leave now, I’ll never catch up to them.” He said, stamping a quick kiss on your cheek before running to your front door. “Hope to see you again soon!” He called out before closing the door behind him. You managed to hear a muffled “wait up guys!” as he headed down the street. You stayed by the window to watch his three friends turn around, ecstatic to see him. One of the taller ones grabbed him by the hand as they all continued to run until they reached the end of the block, all piling in one car before taking off again. You smiled to yourself as you headed to the kitchen, thankful for what was probably the strangest yet most comforting moment of your life.

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PART 2 Y'ALL FINALYYY 😁😁😁 And yes obviously this is the final part but this fic was so fun to write! Let me know if y'all wanna see more stuff referencing the Beatle movies, and I have two other fics still in the works so I'll try and have those up as soon as I can! 🥰

[gmaybe666]

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

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

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

and john can never answer

[ribcagebonemeal]

rip john lennon you would've hated my bad flash animation 💔

[buttahpie]

this is literally my most insane venn diagram yet

[cyberniix]

uh

[got-ticket-to-ride]

Mclennon x Saltburn

[ssl0t]

If you don’t let me suck your dick I’m gonna kms

[zipstick]

[warnersister]

Gonna give you a baby (smut)

The Beatles x Reader, Paul McCartney x Wife! Reader

Summary: you and Paul have fertility issues, the three men with a thing for you see this as a great opportunity to lend a helping hand. -> hate this one didn’t write it well🤧

Warnings: mentions of infertility, pregnancy, filthy smut, five-some, degrading (slut, whore, etc), hand-jobs, oral (f+m receiving), just a lot.

Requested by: @jill-smith-123

You and Paul had met in the early 50’s. Your family had moved in just down the street from him and the 10 year old McCartney was awestruck from the moment he laid eyes on you. The next day, he’d showed up at your house, to which your less-than-pleased father had answered the door, with a bow-tie and bouquets of flowers he’d taken from your mother’s new garden, to ask you to accompany him to the local youth centre for disco night.

He’d bought you a sherbet straw while he puffed on candy cigarettes before pecking your lips with tight-shut eyes mid way through you dining along to The Andrews Sisters’ song your mother had on vinyl.

When you were each a bit older, you’d accompanied Paul to the cavern club sitting in the front row as you’d hummed along with him, his eyes never drawing away from your own. Then he’d take you for dinner, a real fancy restaurant that his uncle owned, and he said that he’d pay - but it was always on the house.

Eventually, another three boys had somehow weaselled their way into your life and the product was an up and coming band: The Beatles. John Lennon, George Harrison, Pete- (scratch that) Richard Starkey and your boy Paul McCartney. And it was no secret that the three also had a thing for you - between the constant bickering and playful flirtations, Paul brushed it off because he always knew in the end that you were always his, and he was always yours.

Especially when he proposed on your twentieth birthday in 1962. Beatlemania crazed the nation and it wasn’t long before scandalous magazines began to accuse the boys of unruly acts and Paul was no different. And realistically, Paul saw the only way fit to prove his innocence to you was to ask for your hand in marriage. With your father’s approval of course… (?)

The fame never concerned you, nor did it necessarily appeal to you either - so you’d had a small ceremony in the local church, doors locked for a healthy gathering of your closest family and friends and an after party conjoined with a reception in the Cavern Club into the early hours of the morning.

“Y’know love, I never read a rule that said your first night had to be with your actual husband.” George had whispered into your ear, smirking at you after seeing the look on your face. “Not her first night.” Paul responded, hints of jealously in his tone as he threw you over his shoulder and off to his car.

That was also the night you’d discovered Paul’s intense breeding kink. His hips pushing into you at a bruising rate, lips failing him as he stuttered out his desire to see you full with his children.

But that was the problem.

“Am I the problem?” You’d asked Paul as you buried your face in his neck, crying after umpteen times, you still weren’t pregnant. “No, no, not at all dove.” He caressed your back gently. “We’re just going to have to be moved patient and keep trying. You’re perfect.” He said softy, cupping your puffy face between his hands, looking you over with a concerned gaze.

“Hey, woah woah woah what’s up lovey?” John asked as the other band members entered the room. They all ran to your side, helplessly watching the tears roll down your cheeks. “I can’t get pregnant.” You sniffed, hiccuping as the tears continued to flow. Ringo’s hands cupped yours as his sad eyes looked into yours. “Maybe there’s just not enough.” He said and your brows creased.

“Y’know our offer is always on the table.” George’s continued. “What offer?” You asked, confused. “Y’ mean you never told her, paulie boy?” John cocked his head. “No, cause I know what you lot are like.” “What y’ on about?” You ask again. “All of us.” George said. “Y’ mean-” “all of us at once.” John took your chin between his fingers and squatted down to where you were sat. “Wrecking y’ can handle us, dovey?” Shocked, you look from John to Paul who had a knowing smirk frowning on his lips. Without thinking, you nod at them. Suddenly, you were swept off of your feet and into the arms of John. “Let’s make you a baby.”

A king size bed was certainly not big enough to support the five of you, but in the boys’ desperation, you certainly managed. You were placed down gently on the bed, soft covers enveloping you as the four starved men looked down at you with lustful eyes. Your clothes were practically torn from your body, apparently them being to impatient to allow you to get undressed properly.

Paul caressed your hair gently before leaning into kiss you, as you begin to feel light kisses and licks on your breasts. You look down to see John staring back at you, a cheeky grin on his lips. He bit your nipple harshly and you hissed, screwing your eyes tight and throwing your head back. “Better get used to that if y’ want a baby.” George said, tracing his hand up and down the sensitive skin on your inner thigh.

Then all the delicious contact went again and you groaned, searching for the friction they were giving you. “Y’ want a baby? Y’ gonna have to let us get undressed first.” George chuckled. When they were undressed, John situated himself between your legs. “Oi, shift she’s my missus I’m having the first go.” Paul grumbled. “And the reason she can’t get pregnant.” John replied smugly, but was shoved out of the way by your husband. “Y’ gonna show em what a good slut y’ are for me, hmm?” He asked, fingers wandering down your thigh and towards your heat, beginning to pump them at an agonisingly slow pace.

George yanked your hair back and forced you to look at him, your mouth falling agape in the process. “Y’ gonna be good for us? Gonna give old Paulie a baby?” He taunted, rubbing himself a few times before forcing his length into your mouth. Gagging slightly, you tried your best to open your throat in the position you were in.

A heat built up inside of you, warmth rushing as you chased your high but it was soon stripped from you. Unable to complain, the disheartenment was soon replaced by something much larger - you and Paul groaned simultaneously, George doing the same as you sent vibrations flying through his cock.

After a while of Paul’s bruising pace, you rest his unwavering hips stutter as he released into you, you doing the same and realising all over him. George pulled out of your mouth and thrust himself into his hand a few times before also cumming. “Such a filthy whore.” Paul taunted, enamoured by the drool leaking from your lips.

“My turn now, birdie?” Ringo asked and you hummed, still dazed and coming off of your high. “He asked you a question. You being a disobedient slut for him?” John asked and you shook your head no. “Y-yes, your turn Richie.” You managed to stutter out.

His dick hardened at his routine nickname, needing no time to prepare you so without warning, sliding himself straight in. He let out a big breath of air at the feeling of your soft wall enveloping him. He began thrusting at an agonisingly slow pace, you in turn, crying out in desperation. “Patience now, doll.” Ringo told you. “Good things come to those who wait.” He took his time with you, not knowing when an opportunity like this one would come again.

Your head fell to the side and your eyes connected with John’s, who looked down at you with a small shit-eating grin. He leant down and licked your ear love, whispering gently “gonna give me a hand job while you let your husband’s friend take you?” You moaned at his question but nodded at him, raising your hand to rub up and down his hardening cock, swiping the tip a few times to use his pre-cum as some sort of lubricant. You pulled away and spat saliva into your palm, beginning to jerk him off at a faster rare. “Isn’t your first rodeo, is it dove?” John asked with a chuckle. “Got you well trained, haven’t I chick?” Paul said, leaning down to latch his lips onto yours.

Your high came excruciatingly slow, Richard building up the pace to the point he could no longer take it and took you animalistically, only stopping to release his seed deep into your womb and felt you cum over him. Waiting long enough for some of it to sink in, he slowly pulled out and kissed at the cold air attaching his sensitive member.

John released into your hand and felt his cock re-stiffen at the sight of you licking your hand clean. “Fuck. Me next.” He said, walking around the bed to your feet and positioning himself between your legs, feeling yourself being manoeuvred like some inhuman marionette. He moved you until your face was in the sheets and back arched for him, arse and sweet warmth on display for him. “Can’t let any of their cum get out, can we love?” He’d asked tauntingly, nails digging painfully rough into your hips.

He slipped in quickly, cock twitching at the sound you made, sensitive from the numerous rounds you had been put through. “Can’t believe Paul gets to keep you all to himself. A little slut all for him.” He said, staring to pepper kissed down your back while his hands found your breasts. Your arse was unquestionably bruised, as was your neck from the way Ringo and George were sucking at either side of it. John let out his load deep inside of you, full ovaries feeling themself being stuffed by the liquid trickling down into them.

George had waited so patiently for his turn, so patient with a so painful hard-on that he was going to make you regret giving him. Seeing himself torture you would be enough of a reason to make himself wait a few more moments. He spun you around and returned you into your back, kneeling down to kiss and worship the skin of your inner thighs, yet never close enough to provide the friction you so-desperately needed.

He kissed and sucked at your clit, thumb coming up to rub it as his tongue delved deep into your walls, making you cry out at the sight of their cum on his tongue. He thrust it into you a half a dozen more times before standing up and forcing his elongated cock into you. You hissed, pained by the repetitive beatings your intestines were receiving.

“Such a good little brat for us aren’t you?’ Paul asked, staring down at you as if a predator staring at its helpless pray. “Yes, ‘m good.” You repeated, doing as you were told as he tapped your chin to tell you to open it. You parted your lips and allowed your husband to force his dick into your already sore and throbbing throat.

George’s hips snapped at a consistent and quick pace, eyes not deferring from yours as he watched you take his bandmate’s cock so well. “Take him so well, don’t you dove?” He asked, praising you as you hummed and Macca moaned. George put his thumb onto your overstimulated clit and pressed down harshly. You cried out but tried your best to keep your throat open. “That’s if, keep it open.” Your husband taunted. And with a few more final thrusts, George cummed inside of you as you did the same, Paul releasing deep down your throat and you refrained from coughing - instead harshly swallowing and wiping the remaining resales from your mouth with your tongue and the back of your head.

“You were such a good girl.” John said, petting your hair gently and pecking your forehead. “Y’ alright, princess?” Ringo asked and you looked up at him and smiled with a nod. “Definitely gonna give Paulie boy a baby for being so good.” George added as he strolled your leg comfortingly. You enjoyed the praise you were receiving, letting the men manoeuvre you so you were in Paul’s lap. With your eyes shut, you felt yourself being lowered onto his cock and you hissed in both oversensitivity and surprise. You looked at your husband with tired eyes. “Don’t want any of it to go to waste.” He said with a wink and cheeky little smile. “Thank you.” You mumbled, drifting to sleep on his chest their quiet conversation turning into distant white noise.

A week or two later, your head was in the toilet bowl as Paul pulled your hair back into a make-shift pony tail and caressed your back at seven in the morning to let you be sick. “It’s alright love, think you’re coming down with something.” He said, pressing the back of his hand against your forehead to check for a fever. It was winter after all and your unreliable immune system was no match for England winters. “I’ll take you to the pharmacy, yeah?” And you’d nodded, wiping your mouth and letting him lead you out to the car.

You weren’t sick, unless your count baby fever. You were pregnant. Pregnant with a child. Pregnant with Paul’s(?) baby. The two of you were overjoyed and as were the rest of the boys when they found out, although offering if you wanted to have two in there just to ask, not minding the sight of you naked and belly swelling with a child.

And eight and a half months later, two weeks premature, your water broke at midnight. Paul sped to the hospital, mentally timing the distance between your contractions to tell the midwife when you got there. After a while of pushing, swearing, breaking Paul’s fingers, and him nearly dainton at the sight of the head coming out of such a small area, at seven minutes past 8, your son was born.

The boys all crowed around, in awe at the new baby in your arms. “He has his mother’s chin.” Paul notes, grinning from ear to ear. “And his fathers face.” The lads then piped up. “And Ringo’s droopy eyes-” George stated but was Vito off by the man himself “oi, oh yeah actually he does. And John’s nose.” John hummed. “And George’s eye colour and ears.” You all began laughing.

Whoever’s paternal child this may be, he was certainly a gift you yourself, your husband, and the three men who tagged along with you.

[julia-lestrade]

Why is Paul McCartney so fine 😭

Like whyyy 😭 Oh and ps I made the edit in CapCut 😊

[cherry-velvet-skies]

Feeling Two-Foot Small (Part 1)

Tiny!Paul McCartney × Tiny!Reader

Genre: Fluff with some Angsty bits

Warnings: Convos about insecurities and stuff but that's about it

Words: 3k

Summary: Takes place in the Help! movie universe (but Modern!AU I guess? Idk lol); Reader wonders what it's like to be small, gets their wish, and meets a tiny Paul along the way

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When people are asked if they wonder what it would feel like to be tiny, most of them think about the effects it would have on their life in a personal way. They rejoice at the idea of being the same size as their pet, having a small furry friend to play with. Some feel liberated at the idea of being able to get underneath all their furniture, hunting for all the loose paper clips, rubber bands, and hair ties they thought would never again see the light of day. Others might opt for a brief dive between the couch cushions to find every single stray coin that is now the size of their head.

You, on the other hand? Well, you think differently than that. You view being tiny from an outward perspective, pondering how being two or three inches high would have an effect on the world around you as opposed to you as an individual. When you shrink, do your clothes shrink with you? Or once you're small, do you lay naked inside a pile of now oversized fabric? Are those tiny skateboards you use for your fingers sturdy enough to support your weight? It would make getting around a whole lot easier. Does walking underneath the arch of a high heel shoe have the same implications as walking underneath a ladder? Would you receive some tiny alternate version of bad luck?

See, you don't think about what it is like to be small, because you already know that feeling quite well at your average height. You know what it's like to have the world tell you there isn't enough space for you, and that you must keep shrinking who you are until you fit. And sometimes, you are told to shrink so small that the only place you can fit is inside your own head. So why would you want to experience that sensation physically as well? However, it would be interesting to have your body match the way your mind has felt for a long while. In some sick, twisted way, you might feel right at home. 

But alas, it is only mere speculation. Something you didn’t want to think about anyway. You preferred not to fill your brain with any more possible outcomes of unachievable situations. You already did that enough with the things actually happening in your life. You already knew how it would all play out. You would spend hours sending your mind into such a frenzy that you tired yourself out, only to forcefully push the thought away the following morning. And if you weren’t careful, the topic would somehow barge its way back into your thoughts some weeks or months later, and the cycle would start anew. So, better to cut things off at the start, despite the part of you that couldn’t help but be the least bit curious.

When you awoke the following morning, something felt off. You opened your eyes to find the blanket completely over your head, which also felt much heavier than usual. You went to move the piece of fabric off your face until you realized that what was currently placed on top of you was two separate layers. You swiftly moved the first one off, poking your head out of the end only to realize it was the shirt you had put on before bed the previous night.

Mixed in with your confusion, your brain managed to form the idea that this was a dream. Your shirt and blanket becoming a hundred times bigger overnight is not physically possible. You felt like you were swiping the large blanket off your head for minutes until the bright beams of sunlight in your room hit your face. You sat up, only to notice that you had actually stood up, not that it made much of a difference. Whether you were standing or sitting, you still could barely see over the edge of the footboard. Glancing around, you noticed your pillow behind you, which was now the size of a giant’s, and the rest of your pyjamas crumpled beneath the blanket. A sudden breeze across the room alerted you that you were currently naked. And unless you were experiencing a rather severe case of Alice-in-Wonderland Syndrome, this was most definitely a dream.

You had always heard about lucid dreaming before, but the concept always frightened you. A dream that felt like reality? That doesn’t sound very safe. The only rule of lucid dreaming you remembered was never to use any of the bathrooms you see, as it will not end well. But other than that, exploring the world like this actually seemed kind of fun.

As you went to hop out of bed, You peered down the side of the cliff that was now your mattress, thankful you didn’t lose your impulse control and critically injured yourself from the start. You figured that if you somehow did end up shrinking in your sleep, you were going to need some serious level of strategy to get around.

Dragging one of the legs of your sweatpants over to the edge of the bed, you hoisted it over, hearing the elastic at the ankle thud as it hit the wooden floor. You looked down again before grabbing onto the side of the pant leg and using it to shimmy down to the floor like a fireman’s pole. If there was going to be any time in your life that you were grateful for not having a fear of heights, that time was now. But so far, your theory of your clothing not shrinking with you had been swiftly proven.

Once on the floor, your next task was to find new clothes. Or, at the very least, some type of fabric to keep you covered. Judging by how close you were to the floor, you gathered that your new height was about three inches, just like you had imagined. By those parameters, even your socks would be too big to clothe you. 

You felt like you were in a video game. Every single place you wanted to go felt like it took forever to get there. And that was when you spotted the perfect wardrobe. All these years, you knew something good would come out of your vintage Barbie doll collection. On the lower shelf of your desk, you had kept all the extra clothing your dolls weren’t wearing in a small bin. Luckily you were able to flip the lid open and start searching.

You may not have been able to see yourself in the mirror, but you felt like you looked good. One of Barbie’s rompers was big enough to look like a pantsuit on you, and one of Ken’s jackets was more than enough to keep you warm. Barbie’s winter boots weren’t exactly comfortable, considering they were nothing more than malleable plastic, but you didn’t exactly have much of a choice. In an equally small bin beside the clothes was a collection of small toys, including your finger-sized skateboard from when you were a little kid. Placing it beside you, you softly hopped on, pushing your foot and briskly gliding across your bedroom floor. As for your average-sized predictions, you had been spot on about the practicality of living a tiny life.

But now that you were properly dressed, you were most excited to try and explore the outside world. What you didn’t plan for, however, was how you were actually going to get out the door. After making your way to the exit, you groaned as the doorknob appeared to be a million miles away. You didn’t have any pets, so there was no convenient doggy door to use. Beside the door, you spied the small latch on top of the window. It was unlocked. Getting up there was going to be a pain, but it was your only logical way out.

Slinging your skateboard over your shoulder - with the convenient strap you made for it out of a pair of Barbie’s stockings - you began to climb up the curtain. The height from the window to the floor was about the same as getting up and down your bed, but getting up was definitely trickier. Once you settled on the window sill, you stuck the edge of your skateboard under the lip of the window, jumping on the other end of the board to pop it open. Granted, your decreased strength only opened it about an inch, but that was enough. You squeezed your way through the exit, and, seeing no other option, jumping down into the patch of dirt below. You didn’t injure yourself, but jumping that far didn’t feel good, especially after climbing up the curtain. This must have been what Tinkerbell felt like. Well, at least she had wings. And on top of just waking up and not eating anything, you already felt beat. 

That’s right. Food. You were so preoccupied with adapting to this new way of life you had forgotten to eat. In hindsight, the fridge had been too large to get anything out of anyway. But your prayers were soon answered as you noticed that the fruits in your neighbor’s garden were ripe and ready to be picked. You were sure they wouldn’t miss just one.

Dusting yourself off and skating a few feet ahead, you gently plucked a raspberry from the bottom of one of the bushes, making sure it hadn’t been tainted by any insects that might’ve gotten there before you. You would’ve only needed one anyway, seeing as a raspberry was now a watermelon in your world and one tiny berry would feed you for quite a few hours as you skated around. It also stained your lips a lovely shade of pink. Nature’s makeup, you thought.

Your neighborhood was pretty quiet in the morning, and being able to move about completely unseen actually brought you a level of comfort. No one to have to explain your circumstances to. No stray animals to drag you like a chew toy. You kind of liked it. To your surprise, the world wasn’t so bad from this height.

Reaching the end of your street, you decided to stop and take a rest. The sky looked like rain, and that was something you needed to watch out for. At this size, a raindrop could quite possibly waterboard you if you weren’t expecting it.

Taking shelter under a small plant in another person’s garden, you looked around at the other bushes and blades of grass around you. The garden felt like a rainforest. Tiny twigs and saplings took on the roles of redwoods and sequoias, towering above you, protecting you from the elements. You truly felt like a fairy. Like the ones who wore mushroom hats and made flower crowns from dandelion stems. The only thing that seemed a tad out of place was a gum wrapper that lay not too far from you. It was the perfect size for you to use as a blanket if you wanted it, but just as you got up to have a closer look, it moved. Clearly it was already occupied.

A boy with short brown hair popped out from underneath it, securing it around his waist like a bath towel. He turned around before you could hide, both of you screaming at the sight of each other. 

“How are you this small?” He blurted out, purely out of shock.

“Me? How are you this size?” You fired back, hoping he could give you some answers.

“I asked you first.” He retorted. You accepted that talking to him was certainly going to be an adventure.

“I woke up like this.” You explained. The boy seemed surprised, as if your reason was more simple than he expected. “Why, what happened to you?”

“It’s a long story.” He said sheepishly. “But one I hope is temporary. Nice clothes.” Sensing he wanted to change the subject, you lent him your jacket, which fit him perfectly. 

“They’re doll clothes. I had no other choice.” You chuckled. “I can give you some if you’d like.” The boy seemed unsure, but you persisted. “I know it’s not ideal, but it beats a gum wrapper.” The boy smiled this time, agreeing to go with you. You held out your hand to lead him back to the sidewalk and helped him on your skateboard. It was very clear he had never ridden one before, as he tightly gripped your waist the second you started moving. On the way back, you let him take a berry from your neighbor’s bush as well, to which he was very grateful.

“What’s your name, by the way?” You questioned. You told him your name as you watched his shoulders relax a bit, accepting you as his companion in this bizarre adventure.

“I’m Paul.” He said, trying to hold the giant raspberry and keep his gum wrapper towel from falling off at the same time.

The endeavor of getting back into your house was something Paul was not prepared for. Honestly, you weren’t too thrilled either, but you were prepared for anything by this point. You never thought that climbing the curtain would’ve been the easiest thing you’ve done so far. You both had to get back up to the window by climbing up the twigs of the nearest bush, which strangely enough, felt like one of those wobbly rope ladders at a playground. You got the hang of it pretty quickly, but Paul, however, did not. He eventually made it up, but with several rips and tears in his gum wrapper towel, which you were just grateful didn’t fall off entirely.

The rest of the trip was pretty simple. Paul enjoyed sliding down the curtain, but he was upset that he had to leave the raspberry behind as he couldn’t hold it and climb the bush at the same time. You promised you would get him another one.

Your selection of doll clothes was plenty for Paul to choose from. He ended up keeping the jacket you were wearing. It looked better on him anyway. He also chose one of Ken’s polo shirts to match it. The only pants that fit him were a pair of Barbie’s denim shorts. What the gum wrapper towel couldn’t tell you is he had quite the shapely figure. 

Once you both were settled, you tried to get whatever food you could from your kitchen. With Paul’s help, you were able to reach the bottom pantry shelf, succeeding in acquiring a package of fruit snacks and a small bag of pretzel sticks. A subpar diet as they may be, it was more than enough to get you both through the day.

“Okay,” You began, making a comfortable sitting area on your bedroom floor out of some old socks, “How did all of this happen?”

Paul began to explain his predicament, but in all honesty, he kind of lost you somewhere in the middle. He was talking about how he accidentally received a dose of shrinking serum that was actually supposed to go to his friend in order to stop him from becoming some sort of human sacrifice. Something like that. Well, at least you confirmed your suspicions that this was indeed a dream. Whoever this Paul was and how he got in your subconscious, he wasn’t making any sense whatsoever.

“But it’s temporary, right?” You asked. Paul shrugged his shoulders.

“I hope so. At least that’s what I was told from the woman who gave it to me. But then again, she says she is not always what she seems.” He stated nonchalantly. You furrowed your eyebrows. Yep. Definitely a dream.

“Well, what do you want to do in the meantime?” You suggested. Paul’s eyes widened. 

“There’s not much we can do outside without us getting stepped on or drowned by rain.” He crossed his arms, a small pout appearing on his lips. “Being this small is no fun.”

“Who said we had to go outside? There’s plenty to do in here!” You debated, much to Paul’s confusion. “I’m sure I have another one of these skateboards somewhere. We can race them around the house! Plus, now that we’re tiny, we can play a mean game of hide and seek.”

Originally, your disposition had been similar to Paul’s on this whole situation. Being this size was no fun. But only if you accepted that as a fact. If you make it fun, then anything can be enjoyable. 

“I suppose so.” Paul admitted. “It’s just that I’m not used to this, you know? Being so tiny and all.”

In the small amount of time you had spent with Paul, you gathered he was the type of person whose presence was regarded everywhere he went. His personality was considerably assertive, commanding attention. Though a bit boisterous at that, he was quite charming. Being the size of a toy was no doubt a blow to his ego.

“To be honest, being this small isn’t really much of a difference for me.” You confessed, eliciting a puzzled look from the boy beside you. “People don’t really notice me anyway, so I think it’s actually kind of better that I’m small enough to be out of everyone’s way.”

Paul scoffed at your statement, as if it was unfathomable for him that anyone would think such a thing about themselves. But insecurity was often just as voluminous as it was compensatory.

“So then you run the risk of being stepped on.”

“Then I move out of the way before it happens.”

“No, you tell people to stop stepping on you.” Paul’s gaze softened as he delivered his reply, a bit surprised by his own comment. Judging by the look on his face, you discerned this was his first time giving such a profound piece of advice. No matter what size you were, the key to not being overshadowed by others was not to avoid the situation entirely. It was to stop it from happening before it even began.

Without answering, you leaned forward to give Paul a hug. He tensed up at first, but quickly reciprocated your embrace, softly rubbing his hands up and down your back.

“So…” He whispered in your ear, “I’ll hide while you count?”

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I'm so glad I can post fics again! 🥰 This scene from the Help! movie is one of my favorites so I had to do something with it 🤭 This is a 2 part story so the second half will be up soon 😊

[gmaybe666]

I get weird thoughts when I’m sat doing nothing at work like what if paul singing ‘and jo jo jo’s on my mi-in-in-in-d’ in ‘back in the USSR’ song is about john and paul wants to keep his comrade warm …

[swaying--daisies]

Reminding myself of the existence of this ABSOLUTE MASTERPIECE that came out around this time last year for absolutely no reason whatsoever 🙃 it just fills me with so much love and joy 🥰

[buttahpie]

happy july 6th

[cyberniix]

relationship chart for my paul is dead au... im a polybugs truther unfortunately

more in depth explanations below cut... prepare for mindless babbling

RINGO POV

BillyPaul

fear & hate (full)

ringo is terrified of billy. he noticed the differences right away, it was off putting. uncanny. he couldnt look at billy in the eye.

he felt horrible for viewing paul's image this way, but it wasnt paul and he knew it. he tried to ignore him the best he could, but it always seemed like there were eyes locked onto him whenever he has his back turned.

John

romantic (short) → complicated (mini) → sexual (long) → romantic, complicated & dislike (short)

paul first disappearing took a huge tole on both of them, ringo saw a side of john he hadnt reslly seen before. a scared, emotional side.

ringo can recall vividly the night rhat john walked upto him and collapsed into his arms, sobbing. it was not a part of john ringo had ever seen before, he didnt know what to do except hold him and lay with him in bed that night. they were both in pain and they both knew it, all they had was each other in pauls absence.

ringo was thrilled to still have someone to lay with in this unpredictable, confusing time. someone to hold, and kiss, and be passionate with. he knew how twisted it was for him in john to be this strictly sexual towards eachother, with one of them leaving first thing in the morning, sometimes without any thing but the sex, but who else did they have, what else did they have, either of them?

George

romantic & complicated (full)

ringo loved george just as much as he did before paul had disappeared and been replaced by billy, but it seemed like george was angry at him. ringo was dismissive of billy at first, just ignoring him thr best he could. this irritated george and he could tell, but he couldnt bring himself to treat this... monster, as if it were paul. this formed a rift between them.

JOHN POV

BillyPaul

complicated & romantic (mini) → hate (long) → hate & fear (short)

john tried his hardest to adjust. he figured this fraud had to resemble paul in some way, other than just looks, but he was nothing like paul. nothing at all. he began to deny that he was even there at all, completely ignoring his eerie grin and slit pupils shooting daggers into him. he hated even the thought of this thing taking paul's image and ruining it. he was very vocal about his distance.

billy didnt like that.

Ringo

romantic (short) → complicated (mini) → sexual (long) → romantic, complicated & dislike (short)

ringo was the small piece of paul he had left that wasnt a tattered, uncharacteristic monster. he found himself being far more emotional to ringo that before, as they were in it together. they both loved paul with everything within them, and he knew they were both grieving. both in pain.

john was the first to initiate any kind of sexual action, he had had sex with ringo before, but not like this. it wasnr bad, but in wasnt enjoyable. it felt almost like an obligation, i need to do this, it's the only thing i have left.

he noticed ringo's distain for strictly sex, though, and how terrible it made him feel. made them both feel. so he tried to bring things back to how they used to be, but he couldnt look at ringo the same way after it all. he loved him, but their relationship was different now. he begain distancing himself on accident because of that.

George

friends, romantic & complicated (full)

john's relationship with george was always complicated. they constantly faught and disagreed on a lot of things, and this was no different what so ever. he tried to seek solace in george alongside ringo but george seemed fed up with him denying billy's existence, and he didnt blame him.

GEORGE POV

Billy

hate (full)

george knew that was not paul, and he didn't understand why the others were ignoring it. he wasnt the most talkative already, but he sure as hell wasnt talking to this monstrous excuse of an impersonator.

John

friends, romantic & complicated (full)

george was irritated with how john had been outright ignoring billy, refusing to acknowledge he even existed when he knew john knew full well what was going on. he was trying to cling on to that bit of love he still had, he knew john needed support, but it was hard to comfort someone who wont acknowledge the source of the problem.

Ringo

romantic & complicated (full)

george was also fed up with ringo's insistence that nothing was wrong. that it was paul, of the day. he sings & plays like paul, he acts like paul, he looks like paul, its paul. george knew this was bullshit. he loved ringo as well, but all of this avoidance of the issue was leading them nowhere. he wanted to knock it into ringo's head that it was NOT paul, but he never seemed to listen.

BILLYPAUL POV

Ringo

hostile (full)

an idiot.

what gullible creatures, humans are. billy can see right through ringo's attempts to believe hes paul, he can smell the fear coming off of him whenever he looks him in the eye. he can hear his sobs to john. he can see his hands shake whenever he grabs his drumsticks to play. what a lovely reaction, but still a problem.

he cant have the public knowing what he is, ringo was a problem.

a problem he would have to deal with.

John

hostile (full)

an issue.

billy knew who paul was to john. he knew how it sickened him to see billy take paul's image and distort it, but billy also knew john was a desperate. he loved paul more than anything in the world. but messing with him caused john to be distant, and billy knew that john's refusal to even speak to him was a problem.

a problem he'd have to deal with.

George

hostile (full)

a threat.

george wasnt fooled by billy's appearance, and wouldnt stop shouting. insisting to the others that something was wrong.

this was a problem, a problem he'd have to deal with.