#acrcsstheuniversee mature

[acrcsstheuniversee]

Good Enough For Me

Pairing: Paul McCartney circa 1962 x John Lennon circa 1978 (McLennon)

Rating: Mature, 18+

Categories: Drama, Romance, Erotica, Alternate Universe

Story Tag: acrcsstheuniversee gefm

Author’s Note: 09.02.2019

Hello! As I said before, I was working on a long-term fanfiction! I finally finished the first chapter and I already have the second and third chapter outlined. So far, it’s looking like the story will be almost 10 chapters long? Not sure! But I am excited to share it with you all. I’m working really hard on it.

The photos above are the Paul and John I want the readers to imagine in my story. I hope they help!

I also want to let everyone know that this story will have adult content very often. It will have angst, fluff, smut, and everything in between!

I will also create an updated master post every time a new chapter is posted so you all can follow along. If you want to be added to the story tag list to get notified on updates, let me know as well! I will also be creating a separate tab on my blog for it as well as creating an AO3 and Wattpad to reach more of you.

Thank you all and let me know what you think!

Summary:

In this modern alternate universe McLennon story, a 21-year old Paul McCartney decides to continue his college education in the United States in hopes to get away from his father and make his own decisions. He finds himself struggling to get by now that he is financially independent. In these desperate times, he goes back into sex work by becoming a sugar baby instead of the cam work he used to do. Despite the objection from his roommate/best friend George Harrison, Paul goes into it and ends up being fairly successful by landing a 40-year old man named John Lennon. Their arrangement was strictly business until multiple layers of feelings and situations arise. 

Chapter 1 - Posted 09.02.2019

Chapter 2

Chapter 3 

-

Tag List:

@nowandthenoldfriend

[acrcsstheuniversee]

Anon Request:

Could you do a dom reader, sub Ringo and sub George threesome thing, with some teasing and sadomasochism? Thanks. (:

A Little Help From My Friends

Pairings: sub!George Harrison x sub!Ringo Starr x male!reader

Warnings: sadomasochism, violence, kink, threesome, humiliation 

Rating: Mature

Words: 2000+

Summary: It’s 1962. You are friends with George and Ringo who started dating shortly after Ringo joined The Beatles. They invite you over to have dinner at Ringo’s house but they set it up in hopes to get you to help them out with something.

Author’s Note: Hey anon! You didn’t specify the sex and/or gender of the reader so I made them cisgender male. I hope that’s okay with you. Otherwise, I just got creative with it, hah. I’ve never written a sadomasochism story. I hope everyone enjoys! I’m kind of nervous. Sorry the beginning kind of drags, so I understand if you skip to the porn. This was a challenge, so please don’t rip me a new one. I also got carried away with the word count.

*This story is fiction and written for leisure. Aspects of this story will not be historically accurate. I do not own The Beatles. I don’t make money off this. 

You rang the door bell of Ringo’s small house with your free hand, the other holding a bottle wine for the dinner. It wasn’t new for any of you to hold a dinner occasionally. It was strange for young men to enjoy cooking so you all kept it among yourselves.

Ringo and George recently told you that they started dating. You noticed they hit it off pretty well since you were good friends their competing bands prior to what well-known local band The Beatles are today.

Loud foot steps were heard from behind the door until suddenly a smiling Ringo revealed himself.

“Hey!” he said. “Long time, no see!”

“Like I didn’t see you yesterday, Ringo.” you laughed, stepping into the house.

Almost immediately, the aroma of garlic and chicken filled your nose and got stronger closer you walked towards the kitchen where you found George wearing a pink apron which looked like it belonged to Ringo’s mom who wasn’t home. He was craving freshly baked chicken and putting chucks of meat onto three plates.

“Smells good in here, Geo!” you said, making him glance to see who it was.

“Hey, thanks. I’m almost done, okay? Just take a seat in the dining room.”

You did as he said and sat at a nicely set up table for the three of you. Ringo came up from behind you and took the wine bottle out of your hand to pour into the glasses before taking a seat himself.

“Okay everyone, it’s done.” George came in holding all three plates and placing them gently in front of everyone. “I hope it came out right. It’ll definitely be better than what you cooked last time, Ringo.” he joked.

Ringo playfully kicked George’s shin and giggled. “Shut up!”

“Alright, alright. Let’s all eat now, yeah?” you laughed watching how much they were getting along.

You knew John and Paul as well, but things weren’t as natural with them like it was with George and Ringo. You weren’t sure what it was but you suspected it was because you slept with a couple of their friends---that were men of course. They were never rude to you about being gay. It seemed more about how awkward it was for them to find out on how many of their friends you’ve slept with. It’s safe to say that you’ve been around. You just teased that they were just jealous that you got more action than them. It was all fun and games, really.

The three of you continued to eat and laugh but the feeling in the room changed dramatically when the both of them started to ask questions about your sex life. It’s not like it bothered you though. You all talked about sex often but it almost seemed like they were interrogating you---especially about your experience in threesomes.

What was that like? Did you like it? How many people were there? Were you okay with that? That turned you on? Did you hurt them? You like hurting people?

“Guys, guys, guys,” you looked up at both of them. They looked scared and glanced at each other as if they were waiting for the other to say something. “What’s up with all ... these questions?”

Ringo bit his lip and stared at his boyfriend until George finally spoke up. 

“Well... w-we were wondering if... erm...” he dropped his eye contact with you and started to toy with his food. “...if you would show us-- or uhh... well, tell us more about threesomes...?”

Your eyes widened. Ringo and George were both staring at the table in embarrassment, scared to hear your answer.

You adjusted yourself in your seat and thought to yourself how funny this all was. You weren’t offended at all. You were actually quite flattered they even asked. Before the silence can go any longer, you just said, “Yes.”

Both of their heads perked and their faces lifted into small, shy smiles.

“Is this part of the reason why we held this dinner in Ringo’s empty house?” you teased.

Ringo turned red and nodded hesitantly. You smirked and stood up, making your way to Ringo’s room. Ringo and George looked at each other, unsure what to do until you yelled, “Well, I can’t show you if you’re over there now, can I?”

You heard them jolt up and made their way into the room where you sat at the edge of Ringo’s full-sized bed.

“Sit, both of you.” you said sternly, patting the spots on both sides of you. They complied without question. These twinks know exactly what they’re doing. “Well, go on then.”

They looked at each other before leaning over you to kiss one another, right in front of your face. You stared at the way their lips folded over each other and their tongues occasionally making an appearance as they slipped into each other’s mouths. Ringo slipped his hand onto your crotch and started to rub your already existing bulge. George moaned into their kiss as it got wetter. You can tell he wanted more. To help him out, you unbuttoned his jeans impatiently and snaked your hand under his slacks to grab his hard penis then started to pump, making him moan into the kiss again.

At this rate, you felt yourself getting bored. You let go George’s dick and pushed them apart.

“Take off your clothes, now.” you ordered. They stood up and obeyed again but this time even quicker. You stood up too and walked up to both of them and just stared at their bodies.

“Umm-” Ringo croaked out but was immediately interrupted by your hand quickly traveling across this face, making him yelp from the sudden strike. He held his cheek and stared at you with his big eyes. You looked down and saw Ringo’s dick only stiffen out more, making smirk. 

“Shut up and both of you bend over the bed.”

They rushed over and did as you said close together. You stared at their tight, pale asses and began to undo your belt, wanting nothing more put to make them red and the room fill with whines. Both of their cheeks clenched when they heard the sound of the metal buckle jingling, making you smirk. You folded the belt in half, holding the ends together.

Without any warning you gave both of them lash on the ass, making them squeal. “Oh two have been bad. Thinking nasty things.” You lashed them again, making the pink appear.

“We’re sorry. W-We just wanted-” Ringo talked again. You towered over him, having your hard member pressed against his ass through your jeans and wrapped the belt around his throat, pulling it to make him gasp for air.

“I swear to god Richie, you talk so god damn much.” you growled into his ear, pulling the belt more, making his back arch. George just stared as his boyfriend chocked under your belt, feeling his dick twitch at the sight.

“For that, you’ll be first.” you said as you unbuttoned your jeans with your other hand to release your member. You spat into your hand and coated your dick with it.

“Wait, I-” Before he could finish his sentence, you shoved your dick in his ass, making him yell. You pulled the leather around his neck tigher as you pumped in and out of his heat, forcing him to arch his back more. Ringo just moaned through his teeth with his eyes shut, feeling the pain and pleasure of how rough you were being.

You looked over at George who patiently waiting his turn. To give him some attention, you coated your pointer and middle finger in spit and squeezed them into his ass. The thin man moaned at how sharp the penetration was and gripped the sheets.

After about a minute, you stopped everything you were doing and instructed them to get fully on the bed. You had Ringo lay down, George on all fours with his ass to you and his face in between his boyfriend’s legs.

You lined yourself up with George’s hips and inserted yourself into his heat, causing him to moan. You pushed his head down to swallow Ringo’s cock and held him there by gripping his hair. Ringo started to moan you made George deep throat all while fucking him from behind. George was tighter than Ringo by a lot. You can tell he was very new to all of this. No wonder he was quiet.

Your free hand slapped George’s already pink cheeks over and over again as you pushed yourself into him. The room was filled with sounds of their moans, gagging, clapping, and slapping--just how you liked it.

You stopped slapping his ass and reached around to stroke his leaking penis. You pulled his head up from sucking off Ringo to arch his back to fuck him harder.

“Nnnghhh.. Ah! ...Mmm, ahh!” George whined through his wet and swollen lips. Ringo stared and stroked himself at the sight. You looked right into Ringo’s eyes as you continued to fuck his boyfriend roughly right in front of him.

You smirked before moving your grip in his hair to around his throat, allowing all five of your digits to tighten to make him gasp for air.

“Tell Ringo how good this feels...” you whispered into his ear as you stared at Ringo.

George peeked at Ringo with his half hooded eyes and croaked out, “Richie... It feels.... nghh... so good...” Ringo began to stroke himself faster after hearing his boyfriend’s strained voice.

“Good boy... now cum... but I want you to look at your boyfriends face when you do it,” you began to speed up your thrusts and jerked his dick faster.

George forced his eyes open to stare at Ringo who continued to jerk off. The thinner man felt the heat in his body move to his crotch as he neared climax. He felt every hard thrust in his asshole, making him slightly shake before his member released its load on the sheets. “Ngghhhh... fuck...”

You let go of him and pushed his limp body off to the other side of the bed to crawl over to Ringo who hasn’t quite finished it.

Your eyes met his baby blues and without even saying anything, you made sure he knew you were about to destroy him. Ringo bit his lip as you gripped the insides of his thighs and pushed them up giving you perfect access to his entrance. You inserted yourself once again and slammed inside of him, making sure to hit his g-spot every time. The smaller man let out sinful noises as you went balls deep. He was so pretty and more experienced than George was. You let go of his thighs, leaving marks where your fingers were and moved one hand to grip his throat.

He began to gasp for air, placing his hands on yours in attempt to peal them off but was interrupted again but a slap to the face by your free hand. Ringo’s dick began to leak precum. He loved it.

“Your the worst one, you know that?” you said, slapping him across his red face again. “I love seeing you helpless.”

“I-I’m... going... to cum,” he squeaked out.

“Yeah? Do it. With no touch.” you smirked.

You tightened your grip around his throat, making him close his eyes to focus on breathing and cumming without any stroking as you continued to pound into him.

“Hurry up!” you whacked him again, making him wince at the sharp pain that remained on his cheek.

“I-I’m ...mm...” he bit his lip as the sensation in his lower body built up. “Nnnghhh...” groaned as his semen squired onto his stomach, laying limp from the painful pleasure rushing through his body.

You let go and pulled out of him and began to stroke yourself to prepare for your load.

“Both of you come here.” you ordered.

George perked up from his high and crawled over to meet your dick face-to-face as did Ringo. They looked up at you and opened their mouths with their tongues out.

“Oh fuck...” you moaned as your pumped your dick, twisting your wrist at the top. They looked so good when their faces were all red and sweaty--just visibly worn out.

After a couple more seconds, your load came hard onto their faces. They closed their eyes as drips of your cum sprayed onto their cheeks and nose--most of it landing on George.

You collapsed onto you ass and laid back onto the bed. The two of them wiped the cum off their faces and crawled over to you, cuddling up to both of your sides. You wrapped your arms around both of them and stroked their backs gently.

“How was that?” you asked with your eyes closed.

All you got was a small nod from both of them as they began to doze off and that was good enough for you.

The End

[acrcsstheuniversee]

Anon Request:

You do m!reader stuff? 👀 👀 👀 C-Could you do bottom-slash-submissive John/reader with foot worship stuff, since John actually had that kink, but nobody ever writes it. No violence preferred, just tender loving and some smut at the end. Maybe even a foot job💦💦💦 

To clarify, John is the submissive one doing the foot worshipping. For a foot job, it would be (male!)reader's feet. Maybe he only gets a foot job if he does a good job with the worship? c:

Read how to send me a request!

A Little Fun

Pairing: John Lennon x Male!Reader

Warnings: Foot fetish, cursing

Rating: Mature

Words: 1000+

Summary: 1967 John is dating a man he met a couple months ago at a bar and they get freaky. 

Author’s Note: Here it is anon! Thanks for being patient. I’ve never written a sub!John or a male!reader story before. This was great! Thanks for your request. Hope this suffices! 

*This is fiction and written for leisure. Details in this story will not be historically accurate.

The both of you stumbled into John’s flat, laughing and holding onto each other for support. It’s been a long night of dancing and drinking at the bar for the two of you.

“John, stop pullin’ me down!” you laughed, trying to keep balance.

“I ain’t pullin’ you down, yer jus’ weak,” he giggled before purposely dragging you onto the couch, landing next to each other sitting up. You both yelled out, laughing hysterically as you leaned against each other.

You and John have been dating for about a month now. You met him when The Beatles went out to a bar and you were surprisingly able to strike up a conversation with him with help from a little alcohol in your system---just enough for you remember everything and relaxed enough to talk to John for as long as you did.

He told you about his recent divorce with his ex-wife Cynthia and how much he just needed something new.

You remembered giving him your number before he had to go that night and was shocked to get a call back the next day. To your pleasant surprise, he was interested in you.

You didn’t think that John Lennon of The Beatles would like you---let alone like men. But you didn’t question it. You were sure the last thing John would want was to feel judged since your relationship is a secret for now. He told you he plans on telling the boys soon. Ever since then, you saw each other several times a week to the point that both of you mutually agreed that it was official.

“Baby... I’m horny...” John randomly whispered into your ear.

“Are you now?” you snickered as you faced him. John was so direct when he wanted something. Spoiled boy.

“Let me show you how much I like you...” he said as he snaked his hand over your crotch and started to rub.

You stopped his hand from rubbing any longer and looked him in the face. The small eyes behind his circle lens were shiny and hopeful for more of you.

“Oh yeah?” You turned on the couch to face him and scooted your back against the armrest, stretching your legs and placing your feet on his lap. “Show me.”

John’s eyes widened with excitement. You knew how much he loved to play like this. He removed your shoes and socks and began to massage your feet. He bit his lip watching his hands slip over the souls and his thin fingers loop between your toes.

It felt so good. His hands were so soft and gentle with you. It told so much about John’s true feelings and vulnerability. The way he took care of your feet made your crotch tighten, just watching him enjoy it.

You reached behind you to grab a small lotion bottle that was conveniently left there the last time you both messed around and passed it to John.

Without question he squirted a generous amount on his palm and continued to massage. You let out a low groan at how great it felt. The other man glanced at you then back down at your now shiny and fruity smelling feet were as the lotion started to absorb into your skin. 

John turned his body to face you and scooted his back against the opposite armrest, keeping his hands on your feet.

He then lifted one of your feet to his face and began kissing your toes one by one. John felt his crotch begin to tighten against the inside of his slacks as well. He loved shit like this so much, especially knowing you enjoyed playing like this too. He lifted your other foot to his mouth, kissing the sole gently, making his way to the toes. The way his curved nose poked at the bottom of your foot when he kissed it all over tickled, almost making you want to flinch.

John started to plant open-mouthed kisses, closing his eyes as he did so. He looked so good. How much he was into it made you wonder if he was lying that he never tried with others prior to you. John began to take your toes into his mouth. The warm of his mouth and tongue surrounded the tiny digits, making you bite your lip.

You looked down to John’s crotch and could see his erection begging to be released. Using one of your feet, you began to rub the small tenting between his legs. John moaned into your other foot’s sole, practically making out with it, leaving your foot wet with spit.

“Please...” John whispered, making you smirk. “Can you.. umm...?” He put your foot down with the other at his crotch and lightly pushed his hips against them.

“Can I what? You want me to touch you?” You teased, rubbing his fully erected penis through his slacks with both feet.

“Yes..nghh..” John groaned, his hips squirming under your feet.

“Unbutton your pants, babe.” John did so quickly, pulling out his erect member begging to be felt by your soft feet. You did as his body wished. John was such a good boy. You took his dick between your soles and began to stroke up and down. John bite his lip to fight back a groan but failed. He watched as your feet slowly went up and down his length, his eyes rolling back once and awhile.

You tightened your grip around his penis and started to pump faster.

“Nnnnghh...” John whined, slightly bucking his hips up into your feet. “Ahh, I want to cum, please.”

You smirked as you watched your boyfriend squirm in place. His eyes were closed and his eyebrows furrowed, focusing on his climax. John was so perfect. Never in a million years would you have thought to be dating John Lennon---let alone giving him a footjob.

“Cum, babe, go on,” you said.

That did it. John clenched the cloth of couch like his life depended on it as thin strings of white came up and landed on your feet and his slacks. He laid there limp for a moment before he twitched slightly from the aftershock of pleasure.

“Come here, babe,” you said. John perked up, pulled his pants up over his mess and crawled over to lay on you, putting his face in your neck. You both didn’t care how messy it was.

You kissed his forehead and held him close, smelling his hair.

“Why are you so good to me?” John suddenly asked.

“Because you deserve it, Johnny. You deserve the world.” 

You felt John smile at the sweet remark. “Thank you, love.”

The End

[acrcsstheuniversee]

Good Enough For Me

Pairing: Paul McCartney circa 1962 x John Lennon circa 1978 (McLennon)

Rating: Mature, readers 18+

Chapter Warnings: Mentions of porn and sex work

Words in this chapter: 1800+

Author’s Note:

Here it is! Refer to my summary and introduction post if you haven’t done so for more disclaimers, visuals, tag list info, and more.

*Disclaimer: I do not own The Beatles. This is fiction and written for leisure. Aspects of the story will not be historically accurate and should not be taken extremely seriously.

Chapter 1

Already a month into the semester, Paul found himself struggling to keep up with his studies. He tried his best to focus on typing an essay on the history of guitars that’s due the next day by 10 a.m. but just couldn’t get himself to do it. Not like it was hard or anything; he just hated doing what he’s told, especially if it was something he didn’t care about. He just wanted to do music but having a degree is a necessity now.

He pressed the home button on his cracked phone screen to see that it was already midnight. He was only half way done with the assignment that could’ve taken him only 30 minutes if he wasn’t writing songs in between paragraphs.

It was all too much anyways. American universities have much more homework assignments than back in England. Times like these made him question whether or not going out of the country for school was worth it. There almost seemed like there were more cons than pros in his decision. He lacked resources, he didn’t have any friends or family here except his roommate/best friend George, he was poorer than ever, and must work and attend school part-time. If he stayed in Liverpool and just continued school locally, he probably would’ve earned his degree by now; but now he’s what Americans consider a “super senior” because he’s 21 years old with the amount of classes completed equivalent to a third year student. Despite the struggle, all of it was better than his father dictating his every move. 

He shut his laptop, giving up on the assignment and leaned back into his desk chair, rubbing his tired droopy eyes.

He had two classes and work tomorrow. The thought of them made him roll his eyes. Music history from 10 a.m. to 12 p.m., a business class he couldn’t remember the name of from 1 p.m. to 2 p.m., and work right after at a restaurant nearby as a dishwasher, and occasionally performer if the artist they booked cancelled that night.

He yawned as he got up and slide into his bed. Before shutting his eyes, he turned his head and looked directly across the tiny dorm room to his right to see his childhood best friend and roommate, George Harrison sound asleep.

Paul really needs to take a note out of George’s book and sleep earlier. These late nights are just stressing him out more and more.

***

“Paul….. PAUL! Get up!”

Paul jolted up right when a sudden raised voice rang in his ear. His eyes met George’s signature judgemental look. One of his thick brows cocked and his lips curved awkwardly. He was already ready to go to class.

“Ah, what time is it?”

“9:30. I woke you up 30 minutes before hand because I just know you aren’t going to get up to the 9:45 alarm unless you expect to make it to your first class in 15 minutes,” George teased.

George is a pain in the ass and a know-it-all, but Paul loved him dearly. He comes off mean sometimes but Paul knows it’s just because he’s younger and feels the need to prove himself. Paul was used to it after all this time but sometimes, that boy needs to know when his criticisms cross the line. Despite being a dick sometimes, they’re both grateful to be going to the same college together. It was one in a million chances for George to land the same US college as Paul just a year after Paul’s acceptance.

“Okay, whatever. You have a point, I guess.” Paul groaned and rolled out of bed. 

“I know I do, ha. I’ll see you later.” George messed up his friend’s darkhair more than it already was, making Paul swat his hand away.

When George left, Paul finally got ready and headed off to class with his incomplete essay.

Everyone was already seated and the professor was setting up today’s powerpoint lecture when he finally arrived. Paul sat down in the back where he’s been since the beginning of the semester. It hasn’t been a problem until a girl started to sit near him everyday since last week. When group or partnered work was assigned, she would often ask him to join her. She was kind, but Paul knew she liked him. She couldn’t make it less obvious. They would make small talk here and there---just about classes and hobbies. She was also very good at piano just as Paul was, but not too good on guitar though she claims to be.

He felt her looking at him, making him turn his head to find out he was right. She just smiled and waved. Paul nodded and gave her a small smile in return, trying not to show too much emotion, afraid she would like that too much. She already had the wrong idea but he didn’t want to be mean about it. Paul was not interested in the slightest and, he was gay. Found that out in high school and hasn’t been too shy about it since then. 

When class ended, Paul left immediately to his second class to avoid conversation with anyone. This next one was business related which is something he also could care less about. He was a bit behind in this one too, but this time, he truly didn’t understand the material. He definitely needed a tutor soon.

Not much happened other than him writing mini poems all over his in-class assignment. He didn’t even bother erasing any of it before turning it in at the end of class.

Paul sighed as he made himself to his busboy job right off campus. Before stepping inside, he felt his phone vibrate. It was his dad. Ugh, he thought but answered.

“I’m about to go into work, Dad. What is it?”

“Well, hello to you too. I was just wondering how the first month in the states have been. I haven’t heard from you.”

“It’s fine.”

“Just fine? Have you got a chance to tour places? You should send me photos.”

“No and no. I don’t want you to be sending the pictures to your friends as if you helped me get here. I know you do that.”

Paul heard his father sigh.

“Just text me when you get home and tell George I said hi.”

“Okay, bye.” Paul said before hanging up and walking into his shift.

It seemed harsh but his dad was a selfish prick. He loves to be in control of everything. He was the reason Paul came to the states to study. All he wanted was to ride the wave of success his two sons have been achieving.

In all truthfulness, Paul stopped believing his dad’s bullshit after mom died about 6 years ago. His dad seemed to have lost his way but Paul couldn’t be around all the time if he had a dream to follow. It’s been rough without his mom around but Paul had to do what he was right for him, even if that meant getting away from his dad which is something even she would’ve supported.

He couldn’t stop thinking about how irritating school and his dad were during his shift. The rude coworkers and customers didn’t help his case at all. This wasn’t new though. Paul was used to working constantly in some shape or form. The only problem this time is that he needed more money now that he’s completely independent from his father.

“Hey, busboy!” his boss called out to the dishroom from the back office. Paul rolled his eyes and went to see what he wanted.

“Yes?”

“I have to cut your hours in half. Here is your new schedule. You’re off now, so don’t wash another dish.”

“In half?” Paul took the schedule and saw that his income now would not suffice his monthly tuition payments, let alone some money for necessities. “You’ve got to be shitting me. Why?”

“We can’t afford to pay you. I’m sorry, kid.” he said nonchalantly.

“Will I be able to perform sometimes still?”

“Ehh, sure.” he said as he continued his paperwork, not even looking at Paul.

Paul rolled his eyes again. Could his life get any more annoying? He let out a sigh and clocked out. Now what, he thought making his way home.

When he got home George was playing his computer games with his big headphones to fit on his large ears. The younger man didn’t even notice his friend come in until one side of his headphones was pulled and slapped against his head.

“Hey!” George readjusted himself then paused his game to face Paul with his eyebrows furrowed. “What?”

“My hours got slashed.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope, hah.”

George frowned.

“Shit, I’m sorry. Are you going to find another job?” 

“Well, I’m going to have to because I will not be asking my dad for help.” Paul said as changed into his pajamas and hopped onto his bed.

George sighed. Paul just stared at his friend for a moment, not knowing what to say. This was bad news for both of them. George didn’t have the same financial issues as Paul did. He only had enough for himself. If George could help, he would---and Paul knew he would.

“I’ll think of something, George. Don’t worry.” Paul got under the covers and listened to his friend shut off his computer and lights before hopping into bed as well.

He stared at the ceiling and sighed, then began to think about all the ways he can make money quickly but none of it would be fast enough to pay his next tuition bill. He rubbed his eyes. It was beginning to stress him out the more he thought of it and he just wanted it to all stop for a second.

Ah fuck it, he thought before whipping out his phone and started to scroll through his favorite porn blog on Tumblr. What better way to forget about things than looking at some sexy pictures of guys?

Paul scrolled until he ran into a post that was by a male sex worker selling nude photos and thought hard to himself. It was a young guy about his age selling his photos for $25 a piece and a private snapchat story for $5 per friend request and $15 extra for screenshot privileges.

Paul bit his lip nervously. It’s been a couple years since he did sex work. All he did was some cam work, sold some nude photos, and made customized videos for people on the internet. He remembered enjoying it but there was always the parts he hated that made the job extremely draining like any other job.

He laid there staring at the screen. He must admit, it was tempting to dive in again but he was afraid what George would think.

“George… Maybe I should go back into sex work…” Paul said suddenly.

George didn’t reply. He just snored in in response. That bastard.

Paul sighed and continued to scroll through sex work blogs, inspired by the possibilities until he slowly drifted to sleep.

-

Tag list:

@nowandthenoldfriend

[acrcsstheuniversee]

Mother

Pairings: None?

Warnings: Mommy issues?, lots of angst, panic attack, thoughts of drug use, taboo thoughts, masturbation, vomit (oh man these warnings are horrid lol)

Rating: Mature

Words: 1000+

Summary: 1967 John is spiraling as he thinks about his late mother.

Author’s Note: This story is a bit taboo? This was inspired by John’s songs he wrote about his mother, Julia. When reading his lyrics, the thought of John having serious mommy issues crossed my mind. I’m sure I’m not the only one that thinks that either. The fic might not be as extreme as I think it is but you see the warnings -- read at your own discretion.

Also, some details may not be historically accurate. 

It was another long day at the recording studio for the band. The four of them have been writing and recording for hours to piece together their next album.

Their long-time producer George Martin had them do take after take which John usually didn’t mind because like Paul, he too was perfectionist. But today, from the moment he got up, everything felt like a drag. He didn’t even give any input or thought into his guitar playing the entire time.

When the recording session came to an end, John made little conversation with the others. He replied with a simple “yes,” “no,” or “hmm” but no one questioned him.

When they all made it outside of the building, John rushed over to his Rolls-Royce parked in front. He hurried inside and drove off without saying goodbye. The man felt like shit and wanted nothing but to smoke or do some blow once he got home. He doesn’t know what coming upon him but he has been having these moments for quite sometime now.

It was dark already and the road was hard to see, especially with the vision John had regardless if he had his glasses on or not. The road was bumpy, making his stomach churn faster than it already was.

What’s wrong with me? Am I getting sick? Was it something I ate?

John thought hard to himself as he tried his best to focus on the road but felt the overwhelming feeling develop at the front of his head as well. He blinked his beady eyes hard a few times but that did nothing but make him slightly dizzy.

“Shit,” John said to himself as he slightly swerved out of lane. Luckily, not many people were on the road at this time of night. The last thing he needed was to be pulled over by a policemen for how reckless his driving appeared to be.

After driving what felt like hours, but was actually 20 minutes, finally came to an end. John pulled up on his driveway and turned off the car immediately and just sunk into the driver seat with his eyes closed.

Not long after, he suddenly felt his stomach start to churn again but this time whatever it was came up, making him shove his door open to vomit on the concrete.

John let his head hang as held himself up with one hand on the door and the other on stirring wheel, letting his light brown hair dangle in front of his forehead. Snot leaked from his nose onto his mustache and saliva dripped down his chin.

He kept his eyes shut before opening them slowly to see he vomited the food he ate more than eight hours ago. Even after he vomited, he felt like crap. If anything, he felt even worst. A weird fuzziness clouded his brain, making him lean his head on the arm holding onto the car door.

He slowly closed his tiny eyes again but began to see flashes of his mother. The times he spent at her home, the warmth he felt when she taught him how to play the banjo, the way she called him baby, the lift in his stomach when she would kiss his cheek ever so lightly with her soft lips before he fell asleep...

Before John knew it, tears filled under his closed eyelids and made their way down the bridge of his curved nose to drop into his puke.

The young man bit his lip as he tried to choke back more tears, but failed miserably when he found his face in his hands, leaning his forehead against the stirring wheel. He sobbed as quietly as he could but once in awhile let out a strangled groan in frustration with himself.

He removed his circle specs and wiped his wet face aggressively with his sleeves, leaving them damp with tears, sweat, saliva, and snot.

“Fuck, damn it...” He whispered, throwing his head back into the head rest.

He stared straight ahead and started to think of his mother again as tears continued to roll down his cheeks.

Julia... seashell eyes, windy smile, calls me

Julia... her hair of floating sky is shimmering, glimmering in the sun

Her smile began to haunt him. The way she smiled at him when he sang “Blue Moon” by Billie Holiday or when he sang her one of his own.

She would hug him tightly and plant red kisses all over his face then gently wipe it off with a warm towel. The smaller marks were taken care of by her licking her thumb and rubbing them off.

He licked his drying lips at the thought of her wetting her thumb.

Without realizing it, John started to palm his stiffening member through his slacks. He stared straight ahead, almost forgetting to blink as tears continued to meet at the tip of his chin, dripping onto his shirt. 

It didn’t take long for his hand to snake under his pants and boxers to start pumping his fully erect dick. He threw his head back against the head rest and sunk into his seat yet again.

“Julia... ah... mummy...” John moaned as lowly as possible, picking up the speed of his strokes and twisting his wrist when he stroked upwards to the tip.

“Nnngh...” He shut his eyes and began to think hard about her hugs again and how small she was between his arms. She smelled so good.

He pumped faster this time, making him start to sweat, his breathing getting heavier by the second. 

“Mummy... I-I’m...I’m so close...” he whined through his teeth as thoughts about his mother spiraled his head.

From her voice, to her lips, to her touch, to her---”Nnnghhh...aaahh...” John’s eyes remained shut as he released into pants, slowing his stokes down until he was finished.

For a moment, he just laid there before removing his hand from under his slacks and sitting up right.

He felt a chill crawl up his back, making him realize how fucked up this all was.

“What the fuck is wrong with me?” he asked himself, tears still rolling down his cheeks.

After a few moments he slowly made his way out of his car, avoiding his vomit and making his away to the front door only thinking about what he’s going to tell Cynthia about the mess on the driveway the next morning---immediately attempting to block out what just happened.

The End