Your work is amazing, honestly so good!!!!
I was wondering if you could write something really fluffy with George where reader is Paul’s sister and paul finds them together and isn’t to fond of them together?? Idk I think it would be so cool!
OKAY. so this was a hellish struggle. i dunno why i had so much block when writing this fic…But it’s finally done. i suppose. 5 days later 💔. this is such an amazingly adorable prompt and i’m not sure if i did it any justice at all but i really appreciate the ask 🥹. idek what this is and i’m sorry if it’s utter shite. 2800… good luck! (also i know i probably left * around words — those are italics i missed!)
it was a thursday in july when paul first brought george over.
your father was out, errands or work or both. and mike was asleep on the couch, arm covering his eyes and knee slightly bended in a way that looked wildly uncomfortable.
that left you in the kitchen, wondering where paul ran off to as you buttered toast and dusted a good bit of cinnamon sugar on top. you wore a soft yellow nightgown that hit just above your knees and, according to your auntie gin, brought out your summer skin quite a bit. your hair was loose around your face and the sun gave it a certain glow that chooses to happen on random thursday mornings rather than in school photos.
then the door swung open.
paul came in first, dark hair resembling the color of your dads disgusting licorice and his fresh 17 year old face sharing your own 15 year old features. he pried his shoes off, hung his jacket, and opened the door wider for a second figure.
He had messy hair — even longer than paul’s — and dark brown eyes that scanned your house with a curious gaze. his cheek bones were truly magnificent, and his whole look made you question why he would ever hang with a boy like your brother. he seemed to be a bit younger than paul, maybe around mikes age, and the way he bit into his lip as he untied his shoes made your stomach flutter. was so handsome. completely and utterly so. maybe even the the best looking boy you’d ever seen, and you went to the films for romance movies regularly! it all felt like some sort of mad dream, and you quickly tucked a loose hair behind your ear.
Paul closed the door behind George and gave you a nod, quietly introducing the boy (a name you wouldn’t dare to forget) and hastily went up to his room.
You’re not entirely sure how the next bit happened.
Paul had always brought friends over, most of them fine. boring. average. boys like ivan who barely spoke to you and occasionally gave mikey a quick acknowledging nod. but george was different, beautifully so.
he came around a lot, paul always hustling him upstairs. and you gathered information based off of the quick interactions and throw away comments from your annoying older brother. A small but sweet picture started to form of george — a year older than you, plays guitar, nice family, drinks sugary tea, mouthwateringly attractive.
paul never seemed to be aware of your small (read: large) crush on his good mate. Mikey did, though. you saw it in the way he threw you judgy glances anytime you fixed your hair or put on a little natural lippy before george came over. but you knew he wouldn’t ever tell paul or anything daft like that — you had enough blackmail on mike you could keep him pinned under your well manicured pinky.
and anyway, you and the boys have always been close. you know their ins and outs, the way they want to be perceived versus the way their personalities truly are deep down. and ever since mum died you’ve all had to stick closer than most siblings do. paul has never failed to be especially protective of you, and you appreciate him and his side hugs immensely.
but then everything sort of…crunched together?
george came over one sunny sunday afternoon with his guitar and the question of “is paul around then?” to which you shook your head. he was off god knows where, leaving you and mike (who was napping, again) alone. george hummed, set his instrument down, and decided to simply…stay. asking you all these questions about your classes and complimenting your buttery nightgown and brushing his fingers against yours when you passed him a cup of too-sugary-tea. that night your pillow was throughly screamed into and the end of your bed was kicked enough times you’re surprised it never caved through.
and thing was — he just kept coming back.
it didn’t matter if paul was over or not. george sat down and chatted with you. laughed at your jokes, sweetened you up, and left after an hour of what mike called “definitely flirting.”
never in your life had something come together so perfectly. it was a fantasy come to life. and over weeks of him visiting and stopping by with his mums cookies or a new story about a dumb classmate, you two ended up closer than you could ever imagine. in secret — of course. the days george was Paul’s playmate he just smiled softly at you before being pulled upstairs. the days he was all yours though, well, you listened to records lying in bed and traced fingers up each others arms and shared your first kiss between sips of sweet tea.
the problem is paul. he’s going to most certainly flip his lid when—no, if , he ever finds out about your new lovely cuddle buddy. george claims he has a beautifully made system going on and that it’s foolproof, but the idea of paul ever finding out sends a fearful shiver down your spine.
and then, one perfect summer wednesday, paul does.
George is lying in your bed with a daft smile playing at his lips, brown hair spread about on the pillow like a halo. You lean forward, tongue between your teeth, and brush a bit of setting powder atop his flushed cheeks.
“Am i done yet?” he mumbles, eyes closed as you apply a bit of natural color to his blemishes.
“Not nearly!” Your voice singsongs. He groans and pries open his deep brown eyes to give you a look.
“I came over to kiss you, y’know. I didn’t sign up for such…torture.”
“You signed up for the McCartneys, Geo. Shut your trap and close your lids so I can do your liner.” He obeys, of course, but not before rolling his eyes. He’s not allowed to complain anyway, you gave him all the kisses before pinning him down with a beauty blender. The least he can do is lie still while you pretty him up.
“can you imagine if Paulie walked in on us now? that’d be a mess, wouldn’t it. my face half done up.” You giggle at george’s words and nod, brushing a hair off his forehead.
“We’d be done for. murdered and eaten.” You finish up his faint brown eye wing with a self assured hum and collapse next to him on the bed. he presses a kiss to your temple and wraps an arm around you.
“But a life of a secret lover.” he tsks and you laugh in his chest.
“you should be an actor. not just in a cheesy film, a proper one, y’know. budget.”
“Oh yeah?” He pulls back slightly to look at you — all chocolatey hair and sharp smile. “I’d do it. If you were me love interest.”
“Not.” you start, “A bad idea.” you drag a finger down his arm, holding back a smirk and he chuckles before properly leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your lips. He smells faintly of your rose setting powder and his fancy cologne — the one he only ever seems to put on before seeing you. You lean further into him and intermingle your legs as you continue to kiss, willing yourself to mingle with his very being. his hand goes up to thread through your hair and you shiver, something he laughs fondly at before pulling away.
“God.” He says, lips already turning a lovely shade of pink. “Can you imagine if you had put your lipstick on me? We’d both be smudged red!”
“You’re red either way.” you counter, pressing a thumb into his hot flushed cheek. “kissing does that to ya. I’ve noticed, i have.”
“Oh yeah? Well let’s test your hypothesis” And he leans in, and kisses you, and your fingers curl into his arms and he hums in appreciation and—
And the door swings open.
“Have you seen my notebook? i swear if you’ve swiped it again i’ll have you—“ Only one voice you know ever sounds that annoying. Paul’s face blanks and his eyes latch onto your…situation in bed. Your body half on top of george’s, his lips a whisper from yours and his hand possessive on the small of your back. George tries to spring away, body clumsily untwining from yours and falling to the other side of your bed but — it’s too late. Far too late, and paul’s face turns from blank to a little sick to…Well, furious. George, the beautiful, sorry soul he is, tries to explain.
“Ahh. Paul, mate, we were. Well y’know we’ve been trying to let it come out for a-a while now and it’s nothing you—“
“You’ve been shagging my sister?!” He erupts. you close your eyes in prayer.
“No!” George frantically shakes his head, sitting up properly and watching in pure terror as paul steps further into the room. “No one’s doing any shagging we just—we like each other, alright?”
“No it’s not alright!” Paul turns towards you, his dark hazel eyes staring into your own matching pupils. “How did you even…what?” You take a deep breath before speaking.
“Paul…” You start slow, willing the shake out of your voice. “This isn’t something you need to, ah. Freak about, yeah? Him and I are good. We’ve been good! And—“
“George.” Paul’s voice cuts you off as his attention turns directly to the (god is he trembling?) figure next to you. “Speak with me. In the kitchen.”
“Oh Paul.” You groan, watching george slip off the bed and land his bare feet on your room’s hardwood floor. “Don’t kill him, alright?” George follows paul out into the hallway and you hear their steps carry on downstairs. Deep down you know paul won’t really do anything…too drastic. But the wildness you saw in his eyes still makes your shoulders shake slightly. You don’t even realize how heavy your breathing until a gasp catches your chest at the sight of Mike standing in front of your bed. A worried look in his similarly hazel eyes.
“Hey.” Mike softly says, deciding to shove a word in for himself. He slides onto your bed with a sheepish expresssion. “You don’t have to worry too much. Yeah? Paul will call down soon enough and it’ll all settle in a week.”
“Or ten.” You mumble in reply.
“Alright.” He chuckles and knocks his shoulder into yours. “A week and a day.”
About ten minutes later, having spent your time picking at bedsheets and listing into mikes side, you hear paul’s voice call you down. sounding moderately less ballistic. Mike pats your arm with a semi encouraging smile.
Your legs carry you dizzily down the stairs and your eyes analyze the scene in front of you — George sitting at the kitchen table twirling his fingers and paul, leaning against the counter with his head tilting up towards heaven itself.
“Al-alright?” You stammer out, cursing the waver in your voice.
“Better than.” Paul says, speaking through his teeth. “George?”
“Right.” The man in question slides his chair back and stands, walking towards you with a look that conveyed absolutely nothing. He presses a quick kiss to your cheek, nods, and tucks a hair behind your ear. “I’ll call you, love. Yeah?” All you can do is nod and watch as he moves towards your front door, slip his shoes on, and leave the house with a small thump. You slowly turn towards Paul, your head swimming.
“What.” You take a step towards him. “Did you say.”
“Paul. What. Did. You. Say?”
“Why didn’t you just tell me?” He gets out, shaking his head at you. “Why didn’t you just go out and say that you two were—“
“Because i knew you’d act like this!” Your voice shouts out, hands gesturing in the air. “I knew you’d go all mad!”
“I’m not going mad!” Paul’s voice matches your tone. “The only thing mad is that you’ve been snogging my best mate on the side for three months now!”
“And guess what?! It hasn’t affected you at all, Paul! Not once in our relationship has this gotten in the way of you and george hanging out.” You take another step towards him and listen to the sound of his breathing heighten.
“It’s not—that’s not the point!”
“Isn’t it?” Your nose flares. “Jesus Paul, all you ever do is dig your face into what’s going on in my life. In my feelings! You hover and prod and poke so much it doesn’t even feel like proper care! It just feels like you—you wanting to get in the way of things!”
“It doesn’t feel like care?” He repeats and scoffs, rubbing a hand down the side of his face. “It doesn’t feel like care? That’s rich, really. All i ever do is—“
“Ever since Mum died you’ve done this!” You shout, voice cracking as your eyes fill up with hot, frustrated tears. “You act like you-you know everything about everyone and try and tell mike and i what’s right and what isn’t and pretend you’re all…all perfect!” A tear slips down your cheek and you don’t even try to wipe it away. “Well you’re not, Paul! You don’t know everything. And maybe if you let yourself feel something other than angry once in a while, you’d figure that out.”
You watch as his mouth trembles with anger, looking like he wants to punch something or break something in half or do either of those things to you.
It’s quiet, terribly so, and his eyes shut tightly around hot heavy tears before he whips his head to the side and breathes in quickly through his nose. Your heart pounds rapidly in your chest and you’re just about to apologize, to take it all back and let him say what he was going to, when he speaks again — the anger he was trying to keep lit slowly dimming out.
“I don’t even care. I don’t. It’s not like i can stand in the way of you staying with him anyhow.” He sniffs, voice shaking painfully. you watch as he rubs the wetness out of his eyes.
“Paul…” You move towards him and listen as he sighs.
“No it’s fine. It’s good. You’re right.” He turns to you and your throat tightens at his face. You realize then that you don’t think you’ve ever seen him cry before. Not even after mum died.
“I’m sorry I snapped.” you offer quietly and he shakes his head with an exhausted chuckle, the fight fully draining out of him.
“No. I’m sorry i’m so…i dunno. Controlling. Protective and all that rubbish.” His nails dig into his arm and you wince.
“It’s okay.” You feel a bit awkward now. “I-I get it. I think.” You reach out and flick his hand away from his arm, eyes searching his face. “I get it. And you’re right. George and I should’ve told you from the start. I was just…” Suddenly there’s a hand at your shoulder and a firm tug from the body in front of you. His cheeks flush deeper and he pulls on your shoulder until your head is tucked under his chin and his arms are wrapped securely around your back. You don’t refuse.
“Just don’t interfere with band meetups, yeah? You and George. He’s already late enough.” His voice sounds all rumbly through his chest and you laugh wetly, wrapping your own arms around him.
“Okay, Paulie. I’ll make sure he’s on time.”
“And don’t kiss him too much when i’m over.”
“Alright Paul!” Your head shakes. “I won’t.”
“I’m sorry, y’know.” You nod in his grasp. You do know. “I love you. And George, too.”
“You have to say it back.” He tells you and you chuckle again.
“I love you too. And I - I think mum would be proud of you. Us. Even when you’re a right emotional knob about things.”
“Yeah…” He nods and sniffs once more. “I hope you’re right.” Paul pulls back and stretches, clearing his throat as he wrecks a hand through his hair. “Alright. Call Mike down. We’re watching a film.” You nod and step away, your feet taking you to the bottom of the stairs and your voice ringing out Mikey’s name. What a fucking day.
Paul sighs as he starts up the popcorn and purposely avoids Mikes eyes. He clears his throat and, with a roll of his shoulders, speaks again.
“Oh. Also,” He turns around to look at you with his eyebrows raised. “Did Geo have eyeliner on?”
alr everyone leave. that was embarrassing.
