#70's john

[heliosophyyy]

Really cool pictures of John

[motherlennon]

[mimikyugirl]

i love ur account sm and i’d really like it if you wrote a smut about late 70s/early 80s john! AND PLEASE INCLUDE A DADDY KINK I’M BEGGING YOU <3

I LOVE THE WAY YOU THINK MY FRIEND!

late 70's John was 100% daddy material so here you go. Hope you like this and thanks for being so sweet <3

TW: NSFW CONTENT (daddy kink, choking, dirty talk)

Pairing Reader* x John Lennon

*Since I didn't know which gender, I wrote reader with a vagina. If that's not what you want/feel comfortable with, please let me know and I'll rewrite something for you!

When you woke up in the morning, you were sure of two things. The first was that the sky was trying to drown the city, so much was the chaos you saw through the window. The second was that John certainly didn't have the patience to wait for you to wake up before covering your face with kisses. You didn't even have to open your eyes to feel that his lips were already planted on the side of your neck.

"Ei, love" You whispered, sleep still forcing your eyes to close "Good morning."

He lifted his face lazily to look down at you, a big smile forming "Well 'ello there, sleepy child" he said, sliding down to lie closer to you.

John's shave tickled against your skin and he smelled of chamomile, making it clear that he already drunk his first cup of tea before waking you. You curled contentedly against him, knowing he loved when you guys could spend hours cudling in bed.

It didn't take long for John's hands to find the bare skin of your belly, and you saw in his eyes that he wanted to feel the rest.

"I fuckin love when you sleep 'ere" he whispered, his hands pulling you against his body, toward his defined arms and broad shoulders.

"I like it too, daddy" you said, letting the sheets slide off and making it clear that your belly wasn't the only thing bare.

"Fuck, Y/N" John mouted, his hands pushing the rest of the covers to warmly explore your body "I think daddy will eat his breakfast now, doll."

John started kissing your neck again, letting his lips slide gently over your jaw "Yer so fockin perfect" he whispered "Will you be quiet now, for daddy?"

His lips quickly found your nipples and made you moan against the pillow the way John loved the most. His hot tongue was quick and seeing your reactions beneath him, he moaned almost as intensely as you "So fucking delicious baby, does yer little hole taste this good too?"

"Y... yes daddy" You moaned, your hips bucking against him and your fingers getting lost in his hair.

His kisses slid down your stomach and stopped on your thighs "P...please daddy" you begged.

"I love when you beg, little bird" He whispered, his lips just inches from your clit "Beg a little more to daddy."

John slowly licked all the spots around your pussy, watching intently as you squirmed toward his mouth.

"This is what ye want?" he asked, taking a single long lick across the length of your wetness, making you pulse against his mouth.

"Yes, John, please" you moaned, digging your fingers deeper into his hair.

John got up quickly, going to your face and running his hands down your neck in what you recognized as a warning sign "You don't call me John here, little bird" John didn't miss for a moment the gentle smile, as his fingers were pressing harder and harder against your neck "Now say again who I am" he whispered.

"Daddy, Im sorry" You pleaded, your hands resting on John's, already making your lips burn "Yer perfect" John replied, sliding back to the spot between your legs "So fuckin delicious."

John gladly licked all your liquid, sliding his fingers inside your pussy and whispering how much he loved you "Yer pussy turns into a mess when daddy gives ye attention, innit? Tell daddy how much you love him when he uses you."

And when you accidentally moaned John's name and felt him slide back toward your face, you knew he wouldn't let you out of there before he showed you why you should never challenge him.

[glamrockmonarch]

Their Reaction To Your Suicide Attempt (70′s  John) - Requested

Request: Okay so not weird but *shrug*. How would John and/or Brian react to their girlfriend trying to take their life because of depression they have never dealt with? - @darb6226

Warning: THIS IS TRIGGERING there is a lot of angst (I love angst guys, send that shit in!) and some fluff.

A/N: I got suuuuper carried away so this is very long, but I’m kinda happy with how it turned out.  I went ahead and did both (because why the hell not?) so you can read them both or just one. It’s up to you.  Hope you enjoy in a safe way!

Disclaimer: Please, please PLEASE do not fall for that trap that suicide is: if you are feeling bad enough to consider the idea talk to someone and seek help. You are the only one who can save yourself from this, but you do need your family and friends. Stay safe out there and don’t hesitate to message this thirsty blog if you need to chat!

>Brian’s version

You were very fragile in the time before it happened. John was aware of your struggles, coming from a traditionalist family and with a more than comfortable upbringing, your parents did not support your decision of marrying him.

John loved you with everything he had, so it hurt him to see you hurting.

Both of you were young when you got married but it did not matter to you, John always looked out for you and you looked out for him, keeping him grounded even when his bandmates would resort to more extravagant stuff, you two were happy with date night and dancing barefoot in the living room to an old record.

He was heartbroken by your actions, surprised and concern.

Finding out:

John was away writing for the band’s upcoming record when you locked yourself in the bathroom. It had been an especially difficult few months, John was aware you were in a rough place although he did not know the extent of it; so he tried to get out of the studio a bit early to come home to you and cook dinner together. Something about the warmth in the kitchen always seemed to put your mind at ease.

The flat smelled like flowers when he walked through the door. There were pink lilies lying around on the table in the kitchen, perfectly tied in a bouquet and put on top of a small white envelope. John did not suspect a thing, he grabbed the flowers and sensed the familiarity to the scent without catching on.

Once he pulled the letter out of the envelope and scanned the first couple of lines he darted out of the room, dropping the letter as he called out for you.

“Y/N!” He called frantically, over and over, “Y/N!”

John searched the bedroom first in fear of what he might find but you were not there. The room was squeaky clean, obviously, you’d make sure it was that way.

With his heart beating faster by the second he ran to the bathroom, John pushed it open with his shoulder, using all of his might to get in there now that he knew you were in there. He kicked and punched the door until it flew open, almost sending him flying inside. Nothing could have prepared him for what he saw. You were there, half laying on the floor, half sitting down. Your back was against the tiles and your body remained limp on the floor with a couple of John’s razor blades thrown next to your hands. The blood was bright and scary as it stained a beautiful yellow dress you put on that morning.

“Sweetheart...” He brought his hands to his face.

John fell to his knees without a clue on what to do, there were tears streaming down his face as he stared at your fragile body. His shaking hands hovered over you in fear of touching you. Should he touch you? He felt like holding you, with wet eyes, he glanced up at your face and couldn’t help the sob that escaped him when he realized your makeup had run from tears long-ago cried.

He could not stop himself, he had failed you so badly... his arm reached under you and held you so your head was pressed against his chest. He could barely breathe past the tears and the pressure that threatened to destroy him.

But he felt as if the air blew on his neck, right under his ear. He looked around for the bathroom window, seeing it closed John frowned in confusion. He felt it again and his head snapped down to see your face. You were...alive?

He swallowed past a lump in his throat and reached out to touch your ashy skin.  Still warm. Your eyes might be close and you looked awful, but your husband’s hopes stayed untouched. He grabbed a couple of towels and wrapped them around your wrists to buy some time while he made the emergency call and waited for the paramedics to arrive.

First time seeing you afterward:

You woke up rather quickly after the incident. John was right there, sitting at your left while your mother sat at your right side.

As soon as your eyes fluttered open he was leaning forward shushing you. His way of soothing you. John had thought he would lose you for a moment, he seriously did. He felt his soul getting crushed under your limp body the entire time he waited for the ambulance to arrive. He brushed your hair away from your face and squeezed the now dirty towels around your slit wrists. How did he not see it getting this bad? How could you think a letter would make it up to him when he loved you more than life?

“John?” You whispered, moving your sore arms to bring your hands up to his face.

Your husband’s long hair tickled your cheek, so with a bit more effort than usual, you pushed a strand of his dark hair back. John waited patiently for you and when your hands touched his cheeks he closed his eyes with his forehead pressed to yours.

“What’s wrong?” Inside your chest, your heart sunk to the wetness that appeared on John’s face from the tears escaping his eyes.

He chuckled.

“You don’t get to ask me,” he reprimanded opening his eyes.

John’s stare met yours and although you felt weak and tired, you recognized the emotion on his face.

“I’m sorry,” you teared up, scared to admit it, you traced his jaw with your fingertips, “I’m...I’m so...I thought...”

John sighed and recognized the smell. Lilies.

“We’ll have time,” John assured you as you stuttered your apology. “God, we’ll have time Y/N, and we will work it out.” He nodded. “Together.”

You gave John a small smile, and he put his lips against yours for a brief kiss, cupping your face he pulled away to offer you a smile.

“Dear,” your mother said and cleared her throat “do you feel okay?”

While you had been receiving treatment John had the chance of speaking to your parents, apparently, now they had agreed on working together to ensure you would get better.

John was a key part of your recovery. He made sure to have your family on board because he knew it hurt you to be distant with them and he wanted to make sure you had someone with you when he was away with the band for recording sessions or tours, etc.

Since John got your message with the lilies he comes home with a bunch of them for you as often as he can buy them. He hates pink ones, so you never receive pink lilies.

Your diagnosis does not surprise John, but he still feels like he must be one of the causes for it.

Sometimes you have to reassure him that he is not the cause, and the only reason why you regretted doing it was him.

John struggled to see you on bad days, you hold on to his shirt and cry into his chest some nights. It breaks his heart every time because it seems to come out of nowhere after great days. Sometimes he will leave you a giggling mess in the morning and come back to you sitting under water from the shower with wrinkled fingertips and black stains of mascara on your cheeks.

You won’t leave bed for the first few days after coming back home from the hospital.

John takes action and makes you tag along with him more to band practice and all. Being around Freddie seems to make you well too, John encourages you two to become friends and at some point, you think you are closer to the singer than your husband is.

You and John are aware that recovery is not linear, but you are willing to put in the hard work to get you back on your feet.

[glamrockmonarch]

Send in some 70’s boys requests!!! I’m in the mood!