Can I Rq Headcanons For Poly Beatles With A Reader Who Has OCD?

Can i rq headcanons for poly beatles with a reader who has OCD?<3

omg absolutely!! I actually have ocd so that will be cathartic to write :) added to queue 💕

Hello :)

After quite some time of lurking in the Beatles tags on tumblr, I’ve decided to create my own imagines blog! Requests are open and all original work will be tagged #LMLBeatles ☆ I’ll be posting very soon so if you enjoy Beatles imagines, please consider checking this blog out :) See y’all soon! <3

Which Beatle "joins in"/threesome 🔥

⚠️⚠️⚠️NSFW!! (obviously)⚠️⚠️⚠️

Paul:

Ringo

at first, when you let it slip that it's one of your fantasies to be shared by two men, Paul is slightly offended

"You want.. what?? Am I not enough for you?" he asks, ego wounded

but as you explain your desires and he warms up to the idea, his first thought is to invite Ringo into the mix- he's noticed his gaze wandering to your body one too many times when he thinks Paul isn't looking

Ringo, of course, jumps at the opportunity as he (and let's be honest, the other lads too) has always found you quite attractive

after a few shots (for confidence) the three of you share a magical evening ending with you showered in kisses, affection, and praise... and cum

John:

Paul

when John discovers your "double fantasy" (please tell me y'all get that), anger boils up inside of him- after all, he is certainly the jealous type

"You- what?? What the bloody hell is that about Y/N, 's there somethin' wrong with me?? Oh I get it, ye think I'm not good enough for you, yeah? Fine, I see how it is," he shouts, storming off and slamming the door shut behind him

however, once he apologizes and cools down enough to revisit the subject (with some reassuring words from you), he's open to the idea...

he even ends up admitting that he's pictured sharing you with Paul- you on your hands and knees, taking each of them in either end

one drunk night, he lets your shared fantasy slip in front of Paul.. and let's just say you end the night more than satisfied

George:

John

when you finally open up to George about your fantasy he goes quiet and introspective, and tells you he'll need a short while to think about it

on one hand, though he doesn't often show it outwardly, he can get quite insecure

but on the other, he knows he shouldn't let his ego get in the way of your pleasure- after all, he's glad you're comfortable enough to share even your most.. questionable desires with him

after mulling it over (and asking your consent of course), he proposes the idea to John over a smoke

John, being... John is obviously down for it, and it turns out to be everything you'd imagined and more

Ringo:

George

until now, Ringo had been completely oblivious to your desire to be shared by two men- after all, you hadn't uttered so much as a word about it to him

but one night, after a particularly high-energy performance onstage, you and Ringo decide to celebrate with drinks and a night of passion in the bedroom

however, due to the inebriated state of the both of you, that bedroom turns out to be George's

at first, when he opens his door to the sight of you two doing it, he's clearly shocked

"What are you two doing in me room...?" he asks, stunned

"Wha- Geo..?" Ringo slurs, the realization hitting him: "Oh God, I'm so sorr-"

"..Mind if I join?" George asks casually, having had a few drinks himself this evening

you and Ringo exchange looks, and after a very pregnant pause, he speaks up

"I don't see why not.. That is, if Y/N's alright with it"

a shameless smirk appears on his face as he glances at you for approval, which you (a little too) enthusiastically give

Paul McCartney X Insomniac!Reader - Dream Weaver 🌠

(requested by anon!! John version will be posted soon 💞 enjoy, dearies)

☆☆☆

Paul sat in his cozy study surrounded by stacks of books, a dim desk lamp casting a warm glow on his delicate features. The night was still, the only sound the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze from beyond the room's large stained glass windows. He sighed, glancing at the clock ticking away the hours. It was well past midnight, and it was par for the course for Paul to stay up this late. After all, he'd slept in until nearly noon - as usual.

For you, however, it was a different story. You'd spent last night tossing and turning, desperately trying to soothe yourself to sleep. Your eyes burned with exhaustion, a testament to the restless energy that consumed you. The following day you had trouble staying alert, despite the fact that you'd been wide-eyed and wired just hours ago. You willed yourself to push through your work and studies, groggy and uncoordinated in your movements. You were sure Paul had noticed your decline.

And notice he had. Paul couldn't help but imagine of you, lying awake in bed, struggling in your battle against insomnia. This wasn't new for you, simply another bout of sleeplessness, but it had been particularly brutal as of late.

With a determined sigh, Paul closed his book and made his way to the kitchen. He began to brew a fresh pot of chamomile tea, recalling its calming properties. He listened closely to the soft hum of boiling water, a comforting presence in the quiet of the night. As he waited for the tea to steep, he rummaged through the cupboards in search of a small jar of honey he'd purchased from the farmer's market only days before.

Armed with the tea and honey, Paul shuffled quietly to your shared bedroom and pushed the door open with his shoulder, the stiff wood creaking as he stepped inside. He is welcomed by the sight of you staring up at the ceiling above, your brows furrowed in frustration. You turn to look at Paul, your gaze softening as you smile weakly at him. He walks to the bed and takes a seat beside you, setting the mug and and jar down on the nightstand.

"Struggling to sleep yet again?" he asks gently, stroking your hair. You nodded, a faint frown marring your features.

"It's been tough lately."

Paul nods in understanding.

"I thought you may want a little something to help calm the nerves," he says, stirring a spoonful of honey into the steaming mug of tea and offering it to you.

You smiled gratefully and accepted, closing your eyes and sipping the fragrant brew. "Thank you, Paul. You didn't have to do that."

He shrugged sheepishly, crossing one ankle over the other as the two of you sat in comfortable silence. After a few moments you settled back under the covers, the warmth of the tea seeping into your bones. Paul began to hum a lullaby, a soft and soothing melody that wrapped around you like a cocoon and momentarily eased your stress.

You continued like this for a while, eventually closing your eyes. But inevitably your mind began to wander, your worries returning with more tenacity than before and gripping your mind with the same dreadful anxiety. You shifted positions a few times, grappling for solace in Paul's melodious voice. But finally you sat up, overwhelmed, and placed your head in your hands with defeat.

Paul halted his song abruptly and turned to your hunched-over form, a somber look on his face. "Not doing the trick?"

You sighed and shook your head wordlessly. Paul placed a sympathetic hand on your shoulder and started to brainstorm. After a few moments, his face lit up with playful inspiration.

"How about I tell you a story?"

At first you were taken aback by the suggestion, finding it a tad childish. But, realizing it may be just the thing to occupy your spiraling mind, you nodded and laid back to cozy up once again.

And so, Paul began to spin a tale, weaving a tapestry of adventure and wonder that transported you far from the confines of your bedroom. His voice sweet as the honeyed tea he'd brought you, a soothing balm for your restless soul, each word a brushstroke painting a vivid picture in your mind.

As he spoke, you felt the weight of the world lift from your shoulders, replaced by a sense of enchantment and awe. When Paul reached the end of his story, you found yourself smiling, the edges of sleep beckoning you with gentle hands.

"Thank you, Paul," you murmured, your voice hoarse with exhaustion and barely above a whisper.

Paul smiled back, his eyes sparkling with warmth.

"Anytime, love. Sweet dreams."

At last you drifted off to sleep, cradled in the comfort and magic of a fantastical realm. You felt a sense of peace wash over you, knowing that with Paul by your side, even the darkest nights held a glimmer of hope.