#ringo starr oneshot

[iheartjohnlennon]

hi do you think you could do some early john smutty/fluffy head cannons

i love ur writing btw !!!! ❤️❤️

Headcanon(s); Your relationship with teddy boy John!

Scenarios

• John gets jealous awfully easily, occasionally to the point of aggression. But he can't help it, he can't help wanting you, he can't help loving you, he's just a boy.

The room was dimly lit, soft strains of the blues filled every sense.

John seemed distracted to the people around him, and that's because he was.

He languidly watched as the other boy laughed with you. Your back against the wall and your faces close.

'What the fuck are they talking about?' John thought to himself, genuinely baffled by your audacity to flirt with someone who wasn't him, right in front of him. 

And he couldn't shake the feeling, it was a vile feeling.

He was a few drinks deep and didn't mind causing trouble.

You excused yourself from the conversation with a smile. John seized the opportunity and came up to you, yanking you away.

"Y/N." He gripped your wrist firmly as he made you walk with him. 

You were concerned by his demeanour, "John, what's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" He mimicked your voice.

"Why are you acting like this?" 

Though it was a party, he found a secluded place.

His voice was edged with a familiar bitterness. "Actin' like what? Just curious about your new boyfriend is all." 

You tried pulling away, but he wouldn't relent, leaving a mark. 

"He's just a friend, John. Stop it."

• John gets quite emotional, though it's rare that he shows it in something that isn't anger. In the dark hours of the night, when the world past his window is quiet, he finds himself overwhelmed by the weight of his love for you. You'll be laying in bed together after he's made you cum, then he'll turn to you, hand nervously rubbing your back as he pours his heart out in whispers.

• The sex is good and frequent. He's insatiable with you, wanting to have you anywhere at any time. And you lost his virginity to him, so he's all you've ever known.

"Johnny, I'm bored." You whispered, rubbing circles on his chest. 

"Let's shag then."

• John loves giving you little gifts. He gifts you like it's Valentine's Day everyday. He waits for you after you finish school and or work just to give you your gifts, usually food or girly things he knows you'll like.

You stepped out the gates, feeling heavy.

You spotted John, he was waiting just outside for you. He looked handsome in his leather jacket. He leaned casually against a wall, a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his lips.

He was distinctive from everyone else.

Very, distinctive.

As you approached, John swiftly stubbed out the cigarette, his cool demeanor giving way to genuine concern. 

A grin stretched across his face when you walked up to him, "There you are, love. Missed you like mad today."

Without missing a beat, he pressed you against a nearby wall and kissed you. It was wet, he was rubbing his tongue against yours feverently.

"I missed you too, Johnny." You mumbled against his mouth.

Whatever noise was in the background faded as John pulled away, his eyes filled with genuine lust. 

He sheepishly handed you a small bouquet, a mix of wildflowers, and a bag of little foods, all your favourites. 

"Got these for you, Y/N."

"Oh, John, you didn't have to..."

John smiled, "But I wanted to, love. Anything for you."

You hugged him close. "Awe, thank you. I love you."

As you started walking to your home, his arm found its familiar place around your waist, drawing you closer.  

"Love you too, darling. Anything interesting happen today?"

Your steps fell into a comfortable rhythm, as you strolled down the streets of Liverpool.

• John likes taking you absolutely everywhere with him, when he can of course. He gets clingy and he begs you to come out with him all the time - and it's always a good time. 

Pebbles tapped against your window. You sighed, recognising the familiar signal that only John seemed to think was subtle.

Opening the window, you glanced down to find John in your small garden, looking up at you with puppy-dog eyes.

"Seriously? What are you doing here?" You said, trying to be quiet. 

"Missed ya, love. Fancy a chat?" He replied. 

You rolled your eyes but couldn't hide the hint of a smile.

Silently, you made your way downstairs and cautiously opened the garden door with a click.

You crossed your arms, "What. Is this something good?"

He grinned, "It is. Promise."

"So, I was thinkin', tomorrow, you should skip school and spend the day with me."

"Skip? Oh John, you know I can't just..."

John cut you off, "Course you can. It's just one day. Besides, I've got plans, and you wouldn't want to miss out on all the fun, now would ya?"

She sighed, knowing that arguing with John when he was in this mood was bloody futile.

"Fine, John. Tomorrow, I'll be off. But seriously, next time, just call. Why all the sneaking around?"

"Nah, wanted to see your pretty face, didn't I?"

"Smooth talker, aren't you?"

John leaned in, "Can I come in then? Just for a bit."

You leaned in, planting a quick kiss on his lips.

"No, John. Go home to your aunt. I'll see you tomorrow."

You watched as he reluctantly climbed back over the fence, a satisfied grin on your face.

Part 2?? 🤭

#the beatles #60s rock #the beatles smuts #the beatles imagine #the beatles x reader #vintage #john lennon #paul mccartney #spotify #ringo starr #george harrison #john lennon x reader #beatles #the beatles fanfiction #beatlemania #the beatles fandom #the beatles art #oneshot

[random-the-hijabi-artist]

I don't have a laptop or computer (my cousin's is honestly so slow it's trash) so I had to watch a gameplay of "Big Engine Brawl."

To be brutally honest, I stopped caring about "Friday Night Funkin'" a long time ago because so many mods came out and it got boring to just download them all and play. Even the game and songs kinda got cringe after a while.

Although, I did find "Big Engine Brawl" kind of really cool. I love all the little references of the engines' themes in their respective songs. I even like the little references to the show; like Ringo Starr saying "3, 2, 1, Go!", Mr. Conductor's whistle transitions, the DVD style menu, the way the Story Mode was like an actual classic episode, The Flying Kipper, James' first accident on Sodor, The Engines' Strike, the song names, Gordon's buffers falling off lol, and so much more.

I loved all the sprites and cutscenes and voices. Like, James' voice sounds like Michael Angelis' James voice, like, bro, that's James' iconic voice. Dude, Alfred is in here, bruh. I'm still a little surprised that DPZ (the only composer I recognized lmao) actually helped worked on this.

What I didn't like though, was Thomas singing "Endless." Look man, just like y'all, I was also obsessed with the Sonic.EXE/Sonic the Hedgehog mods when they were actually fun. Like, it got so boring because so many were being made and bunch of knock-off ones by flippin' toddlers too. Leave Sonic and FNF separate things, please. Sure the references are cool but, nah. (The only Sonic mod I'll truly appreciate is the "Blur Oneshot" mod.)

Why "Endless," though?

"Ugh" actually fits James; even he sang with his old livery. "Monochrome" for Henry? That's a little dark... I haven't exactly listened to "Godrays" (That's from "Entity," right?) since when the song came out, I was starting to get bored of the actual fandom itself.

Anyway, the mod was actually nice. I might listen to the instrumentals of the songs...

#faith speaks #ttte #thomas and friends #big engine brawl #friday night funkin #fnf #ttte thomas #ttte edward #ttte henry #ttte gordon #ttte james #ttte sir topham hatt #ttte alfred

[ringstarrr]

Hi, loved your last Ringo piece! Can't get enough Ringo love! Would be able to write an early days 1962 era Ringo where the reader is either a local of/works at the Cavern Club and they get to talking? Would love to read that... No worries if not 💚

hi!! thank you so much, i'm glad you liked it 🧡 and of course, there's always room for soft boy ringo. i hope you enjoy it as much as i did writing it :)

All My Loving

summary: reader works at the cavern and has a crush on ringo, but they don't know each other

paring: ringo starr x gender neutral!reader

warnings: mainly swearing and implications of nsfw (nothing major)

author's note: we need more ringo love ok folks. and sorry for the delay. things are getting tough at college as the end of the semester is nearing, but i'll try to keep you guys updated. love ya :)

1962.

Friday nights' were always the busiest down at The Cavern. The evening was permanently chaotic from the moment the pub's doors were open, and as a bartender, you comprehended it exceptionally well. Girls wringing as there was no tomorrow, men getting drunk and acting horribly, people hollering, new glasses shattered by the second, to detail a few occurrences.

You could differ hours how disheveled the club was on nights like these. Despite that, you relished it quite a bit. The justification for it was too one of the causalities for The Cavern being so cluttered - The Beatles, specifically their pristine drummer, Ringo Starr.

The boy group was one of the items which made working at the bar bearable for you. Dealing with all kinds of people was challenging and demanded much from you, and for some reason, getting to see the four youthful musicians play the night away behoved you. You'd smile and be more patient as if things were how they were supposed to be, looking insouciant.

Then you noticed it. Your gaze would dart to Ringo every time you'd peek at the stage. Your heart, invariably, skips a beat.

"Fuck," you thought as you got back to preparing drinks, "why does he have to be so adorable?"

You were acquaintanced with the gang, yet not so much with Ringo. They were quickly burgeoning in the musical scene, and after a recording session at EMI, the three Liverpudlian men chose to tell Pete Best off to edify their sound. Regardless, reckoning the few exchanges you have had with them, they were charming. Fame is egregious, and it was stimulating to see they maintained their feet on the ground.

It all went into shambles once Ringo left Rory and The Hurricanes for The Beatles. It was fatuous - people chimed they wanted Pete instead, hurling glasses at the stage, not to mention the amount of hostility Ringo tolerated. The audience became fractious for a bit. You were frightened for the boys' safety, hiding most of the beverages from the bacchanalian during those weeks.

And because of that, you haven't been able to meet Ringo. The group wasn't taking any chances after that complete mess. They were departing as soon as they left the stage. You knew him from his stint as a drummer for Rory's crew, but Ringo looked shocking then.

He looked like the kind who could shatter a heart. He had the looks to kill - your heart did flips for the sinful boy. You were eschewing him since you first caught Ringo smoking at the back. You couldn't deal with a lad like him breaking your heart - it had ensued way unduly times before. You were familiar with the ungodly type of men down at The Cavern and weren't willing to risk falling for Ringo.

Yet, you often encountered yourself contesting that conclusion. Being a bartender allowed you to survey the interactions around the pub more attentively than most locals, and you saw how Ringo was with his friends, bandmates and residents.

The man was a gentleman.

It blew your mind that someone so tough looking could be so endearing and lovely. Ringo treated everyone with so much care and softness you usually felt your chest tightening.

And now he had a new look. His hair wasn't gelled up anymore, and he was shaving more frequently. Bangs were down to the centre of his forehead. Ringo still appeared as if he could cause harm effortlessly, but he looked a little more delicate. It made you stare at him without being so scared that Ringo would notice.

That was what you were doing. You were cleaning the glasses around the bar, attentively watching him play behind the drumkit. Dirty thoughts came to your mind, leaving a trace of pink in your cheeks. He just looked so hot and fabulous banging those drums you couldn't control your head. You shook your head as a smirk played across your lips, feeling those dreaded butterflies.

Their show was magnificent as usual, and your gaze followed the blue-eyed boy as soon as they left the stage. You felt like you were about to have a heart attack when you noticed that they were coming to the bar. "I think I'm gonna throw up," was all you could think. You tried to focus again on cleaning everything up for the next customer, but a voice took your attention.

"Hey, (y/n)! It's been a while," John basically yelled, your face flushed, yet you were trying to look unbothered as you turned to look at him. You felt the other boys' eyes on you, growing shy. "Still got the best drinks in the place?" You laughed at this, remembering how frequently they used to get shit-faced not so long ago.

"I hope so. Don't want to lose my job, Lennon," you answered him, shifting your gaze to the other three. Your heart went to your throat when you saw Ringo staring straightly into your eyes, gulping nervously. A side smirk covered his features. Breathing in sharply, you questioned Paul and George. "It's going to be a round of drinks then? What do you have in mind? The usual?" You broke eye contact for a moment to get the bottles of whatever they wanted.

"It's going to be a few rounds of drinks, love. All on me," Ringo responded, your heart doing pirouettes. He had called you love.

"Alright then, boys," you said as you put four small glasses in front of each of them, Ringo's hand brushing against yours briefly. You served their glasses and beamed as you watched them pour it down their throats, fixing a new round.

It went like this for a few hours, the group laughing loudly and joking around, having a good time. It was sweet to be around during moments like this, especially since they treated you so nicely. Eventually, George and Paul left once the younger one threatened to throw up, Paul carrying him out the door. John had a date with Cynthia and promised her he would arrive on time. It was down to you and Ringo, and you didn't know if it was a good thing.

"Did you enjoy the show (y/n)?" It was a simple question, though hearing your name roll effortlessly out of his tongue sent a wave of tingles up your spine. Ringo was now drinking a beer, The Cavern almost empty. Soon it would be time to close.

"Yeah, sure I did. You guys are very talented," you stated with a small smile.

"I saw you, you know," he pulled out a pack of cigarettes, putting a ciggie on his lips. Your chest tightened, and your breath was caught away. "Were you watching me, or am I seeing things now?" Ringo asked with a shaky and nervous laugh. Utterly flustered, you just shook your head positively.

"You are so..." you attempted to say something but the words wouldn't come out. Shyness was shit.

"Ugly? Weird looking? It's the nose, isn't it?"

"No, no!" You said a bit desperate that Ringo got the wrong idea. "I was going to say handsome and cute." The sweet drummer was a blushing mess, hiding behind his cigarette. "You are breathtaking, Ringo. And very, very talented."

The boy was silent after this. You were too embarrassed to look at him - imagine trying to continue the conversation. It was time to close, and you were getting everything in place to leave. Ringo had already paid, so you just put your purse over your shoulder and walked towards the door. Head down; you said your goodbyes silently.

"(y/n), can I walk you home?" Ringo blurted out. He looked thoughtful, and you wondered why.

"There's no need for that. I don't want to get on your way," you answered nervously, holding the door handle.

"That wouldn't happen," he strolled to you, opening the door. "After you," he said sweetly with a smile.

Ringo began striding next to you quietly, hands in his pockets. It was still weird, and you weren't sure of what to say.

"You are extremely adorable, dear," he said after a few minutes. "Don't want to be creepy, but can I kiss you?" You stopped right on your track, shocked. Ringo noticed as he showed a tiny smile. "Well, why not? I have been trying to talk to you for a while, and you seem to like me too. I don't see why not," he spoke, much closer than before

"You like me?"

"Yeah," he giggled, cheeks red. "I noticed a few weeks ago how you stare at me. And, honestly, you are gorgeous. I asked the boys if they could help me out since they know you." You were stunned, eyes sparkling. "Sorry for making it awkward earlier. I'm a little shy sometimes. Don't know why, though." You chuckled as he rambled.

"Ritchie, just kiss me already."

Ringo then slammed his lips against yours, holding you by the waist. You thought you were going to pass out - the kiss was much more than you ever pictured it'd be. You were melting against him, your hands tangled in the locks of his hair. Ringo had moved one of his hands up your back, caressing circles.

It was the first of many.

#ringo starr x reader #ringo starr imagine #the beatles x reader #the beatles imagine #paul mccartney x reader #paul mccartney imagine #ringo starr oneshot #george harrison x reader #george harrison imagine #john lennon x reader #john lennon imagine #george harrison #paul mccartney #ringo starr #john lennon #the beatles #the beatles oneshot #the beatles fanfic #the beatles fanfiction #ringo starr fanfic #george harrison oneshot #george harrison fanfiction #paul mccartney oneshot #john lennon fanfic #john lennon oneshot #paul mccartney fanfic

[beneathashadytree]

THE BEATLES MASTERLIST

Paul McCartney:

Good Morning, Good Morning

Hold Me

When I'm Sixty-Four

George Harrison:

Define Love

Delicate Man

Thinking of the Future

John Lennon:

The Prettiest Flower

Naked

Nibbles

Ringo Starr:

Blisters

Azure Eyes

OK?

#the beatles #paul mccartney #john lennon #george harrison #ringo starr #60s #classic rock #fluff #hurt/comfort #angst #oneshot #imagine #ringo starr imagine #ringo starr oneshot #ringo starr x reader #paul mccartney oneshot #paul mccartney x reader #paul mccartney imagine #john lennon x reader #john lennon imagine #john lennon oneshot #george harrison x reader #george harrison oneshot #george harrison imagine

[ificanwriteiscannon]

The memory of you (Ringo imagine)

N\A: Picture is not mine, found in google. Hello angst my old friend ( yes, this my way to inform you about all the sadness)

The musician smiled as the five-year old grumbled something in her sleep. It was grandpa’s day to take care of his little ball of energy. And as both passed out in the couch watching some cartoon, Ringo couldn’t control himself as images of the little girl’s grandmother filled his sleepy mind. Oh how the small child reminded him of his wife.  The same curious eyes and courageous attitude. She could get anything she wanted with a blink of her little eyes. She had him wrapped around her finger, just like her grandmother once did.

A nostalgic smile filled his face as sleep overtook him. Oh how he wished he could see her again..

Waking up in a jolt a pair of hands came to his shoulder balancing him.

“Calm down mate. I think we should go, you know, gotta get early in the studio tomorrow” The man looked over the table to the owner of the hands, and shock took over him. It was George. His friend. His bandmate. Oh how he missed him. Without a second thought, Ringo got up and hugged the guitarist, surprising him.

“Ok, ok, you really had enough. You are really smashed, mate. C’mon” Ringo walked with his friend for a few blocks in the cold, empty streets.  He vaguely remembered this night as they walked and George conducted the conversation.

Possibilities filled his confused mind. Richard concluded he was certainly dreaming, he did remember falling asleep with his son’s daughter. But even if it was a dream, he would get as much as he could before he woke.

“A-and how about John.. How about we drop by and just say hello?” Ringo asked nervously, punching George’s shoulder. The other lifted an eyebrow and chuckled.

“Are you really that drunk? John left minutes before we did. Besides he must be home and fast asleep by now. And you know how grumpy he gets when he wakes. We will see him tomorrow” The drummer nodded sadly, and came back to the conversation. Admiration filling him as he watched his friend speak with enthusiasm.

But as they turned a special corner Ringo stopped in his tracks. This was that night, of course it was! Suddenly all was in place, and he remembered everything. He cursed himself internally for not recognizing it sooner.

There she was. Even more beautiful than he remembered. He felt a tear streaming down his face at the same time a smile crept up his face.

“Mate, are you ‘kay?” George’s voice was long and distant, but, reluctantly, Ringo half turned to him

“Yeah, yeah, ok ok.. I see you later ok Georgie?!” Ringo waved and followed the direction of the porch where a girl looked for her keys. He heard from a far as George called from him, but it was like a moth to a flame. With her it was always like this…

As he got closer and tapped on her shoulder, he lost his words. His eyes were still filled with tears and the girl looked at him with a confused frown. She held her purse tightly against her chest, and he was almost sure she was seconds from pulling the pepper spray she carried there.

“Hi” The drummer whispered still eyeing her deeply, forcing himself to memorize every detail of her. His wife. The mother of his children. The love of his life. The one who death took away sooner than he wanted. To be honest if it was up to him, she would never leave his arms. And yet, she did.

“Can I help you with something?” Y\N asked rather impatient, but still apprehensive.

“I-I’m sorry. It’s just that you are, undoubtedly, the most beautiful woman in this earth” Ringo felt his smile spread as a blush took over her face and she turned away.  “I have to get a closer look.”

“Complementing me doesn’t make you less of a creeper mister… I’m sorry, you do seem familiar” He smirked. Y\N knew who he was. He remembered that she admitted years later that she knew, she just didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.  

“It’s Richard. But everyone calls me Ringo”

“I like Richard. It is a beautiful name.” She shrugged “Look Richie, it’s late and I gotta get in. But it was nice meeting you” Oh how he missed her.

“Wait!” He pleaded as she opened the door. Y\N looked at him over her shoulder

“Yes?”

“Maybe I could take you out to the cinema?!” He balanced in his feet and watched as she bit her lower lip. Those beautiful, perfect lips, he sure missed kissing. But unfortunately it wouldn’t happen tonight; he would’ve to wait until their third date. The day where they took her dog for a walk, and as he rambled about his love for drums she turned his face towards her and left a delicate kiss on his lips. Ringo still remembered the way Y\N giggled as he watched her speechless.  

“Are you asking?” She had one eyebrow lifted and bit back a smirk.

“Yes. Miss Y\N would you go out with me?” She narrowed her eyes at him

“How do you know my name mister Richie?” DAMN, he though. He didn’t say her name in the first version of this.

“Oh, your badge helped” It wasn’t a complete shot in the dark as she always forgot to take it off. He still remembered the same thing happened as he introduced her to his family.

“Well played Mister Richie” She giggled taking the piece off her coat “For that, I will give you a chance. Tomorrow at 7. Be on time”

“I wouldn’t dream otherwise, Miss” Ringo replied saluting as she once again giggled, making his smile grow. Oh, how she made him happy. She waved and slowly turned, getting inside. He writhed as he could to watch her for as long as it took her to slowly close the door.

The drummer stood there for a few minutes longer. She was gone, not for now but she would be. And suddenly he wished it wasn’t a dream. He wished he could live it again. A thousand times and more, if it was allowed. He closed his eyes trying to save the moment on the special place of his heart and mind. The air, the complete sensation of happiness, the slight taste of beer in his mouth, and her delicious perfume that he could still smell if he forced himself.

But as soon as he opened his eyes again, it was all gone. He was back to his couch with a five-year old pushing his sleeve.

“Grandpa, were you dreaming?”

“Well yes, my dear. I was dreaming”

“Was it about grandma? You always smile in your dreams when is about her” He caressed the little girls’ hair and smiled sadly

“Yes, it was. It was about her”

“I miss her grandpa” The child sighed and played with her blanket, Ringo smiled at her and nodded feeling his eyes fill with tears

“I miss her too, my dear.”

#ringo starr imagine #ringo starr imagines #ringo starr oneshot #ringo starr fanfic #beatles imagine #beatles imagines

[warnersister]

Sharing is Caring

The Beatles x Reader smut

I feel disgusting, okay!?

Warnings: smut, semi-public sex, degradation, car sex, five-way, swearing, MENTIONS OF SA (doesn’t actually happen), oral (f&m receiving), etc, PLEASE DO NOT READ, IF NOT COMFORTABLE!

You joined The Beatles exactly one year ago today. It started as a collaboration, Brian decided that it would be good for the lads to make an album with someone alternative to themselves. You were a single-handed sensation, so you were obviously first pick.

It started out as a nice little ‘sing-song’ but you and the boys developed a tight-knit bond. You were more than just a collaborative friend to them, truth it all of them had a thing for you. And by the end of your guys’ tour, you had a contract waiting for you, which the boys practically begged you to sing.

Next thing you knew, your name was on everything.

‘NOW MAGAZINE!

THE BEATLES,

PAUL MCCARTNEY, JOHN LENNON, RINGO STARR, GEORGE HARRISON, (Y/N) (L/N)!’

‘SOLD OUT!

THE BEATLES

PAUL MCCARTNEY,

JOHN LENNON,

RINGO STARR,

GEORGE HARRISON,

(Y/N) (L/N)!’

Everything. Just everything about it was pure ecstasy of being a Beatle, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. (Although the boys would love (L/n) to be changed to their own, they loved seeing your name with theirs, as their own Little Beatle).

(Y/n) Lennon

(Y/n) McCartney

(Y/n) Starkey

(Y/n) Harrison

The boys already had their lives planned out with you, but you didn’t know that - oblivious was the way to describe it. And they would be lying if songs like: ‘I want to hold your hand’, ‘Girl’, ‘In my life’, ‘Words of love’, and so many more they would be bashful to admit, weren’t (definitely, 110%), written about you.

Your boys had been so kind to throw you a party, for the date they claimed: ‘was more important than the birth of The Beatles’. It was situated in: ‘The Cavern Pub’, they had booked it out for the evening, inviting close friends on the band’s, people they knew you enjoyed the presence of - a tab opened at the bar for everyone. You performed the majority of the songs you had written, the boys proudly playing along-side you.

They all had wide grins on their faces, watching you perform your heart out to the family crowd before you all. None of them would keep their eyes off of you, on half-heartedly thanking the guests when they clapped.

There was an afterparty, which I suppose, was an afterparty of the party, but who cares? The lads were discussing something with an old friend, and you took that as a chance to slip away, chat to someone else. You ordered a drink from the bar, smiling at the bartender when he complimented your singing. “I tell you, Liverpool’s never seen ‘owt like like it, love!” He told you, and you thanked him, the barman that had worked here since ‘47.

“(Y/n)! Oh my that was incredible!” A familiar voice said from behind you, “Steve? Oh my god I haven’t seen you since 59!” You turned, seeing your old friend, and former band-member, before you went solo. He embraced you tightly, to which you returned. He pecked your cheek, happy to see you doing so well after so long. At least that’s what you thought, apparently unbeknownst to the fact that he was eyeing you up like a dog who hadn’t eaten in days.

Ringo was the first to notice, quickly figuring out that you weren’t by their sides. He creased his brows, quickly skimming the pub in search for you. He found you quickly, noting you embracing some weirdo you used to sing with. His jaw locked, angrily.

When you were giddily showing them your outfits, they were all for the low-neckline, and the way the dress rode up your thighs, just skimming the bottom of your arse. But now Ringo hated it. That man was pretty much drooling, staring at your cleavage, and now he was kissing your cheek.

Ringo elbowed Paul roughly. “Ow! What-” He was pointed int the direction of the two of you, to which he had the same reaction of the drummer. Soon all four of them were clued up on the situation, all dying to go over there and put him in his place, for even touching their girl.

They conversed with each other silently, talking with their eyes. They came to a decision, Ringo would go over their first, and if needs be, (but let’s face it, it was going to happen anyways), all of them would go over.

“Alright, love?” Ringo asked, approaching you, you turned from your conversation, to face your band-member, smiling innocently at him. Ringo melted at your expression, but managed to keep his pissed-off face, over-aware of the man eyeing you. “You look chilly, darling.” Ringo took his suit-jacket off, turning you so that he could wrap it around you, making sure to make it tight at the front. “But I’m pretty warm-“ He silenced you with a wide-eyed look.

With his jacket pretty much covering everything, Ringo pulled you into his side. “Steve Clane.” He held his hand out, to which he shook it, almost squeezing his hand too tight. “Ringo Starr.” He retorted, the other not appearing all-too happy to now be converting to one of the other Beatles. “I used to be in a band with him, Ritchie.” You smiled up at him, and he grinned down back at you, validating your innocence with a name only you could use. “Really love?” You nodded.

The other three appeared, appreciating your beaming smile. “Hello, dove.” Paul said, as himself and Ringo took you from the situation, entirely ignoring the man you were speaking with. “But I was speaking to him-“ “Not anymore, sweetheart.” Ringo informed you, both of them quickly leading you out of the bar. “But the party?” Paul chuckled at your confused face, you not wanting to leave all your guests without a host. “We have cake at home.” He kissed your temple. “We’ll celebrate there.” You silenced yourself, not content with the fact that they were completely dragging you out of your own party.

Back inside however, George and John were squaring up to the man. “Problem, Georgie?” Steve clicked his tongue ignorantly. “You talk to her again, we’ll fuck you up, understand that?” George said through gritted teeth, prodding him in the chest. “Please, what’s she good for? A nice shag?” Steve thrusted his hips cockily. John pushed him angrily, forcing him to stumble back. “Piece of shit-“ John lunged for him, but was held back by security who had clocked on a few moments ago. “Come on you shit bag,” A bouncer dragged the man away, while the other apologised to the two. “He’s never setting foot in Liverpool again,” He promised, to which they thanked him, although both still riled up.

Following your band mates, you were lead to Ringo’s car, and as if a child; placed into the middle-back seat. Ringo sat on your left, Paul on your right. “I don’t know what your guys’ problem is! We were just talking-” Paul cut you off. “He was eyeing you like fucking dog meat!” You rolled your eyes, lighting a cigarette. “He’s an old friend.” You shrugged, taking a drag before it was ripped from your hands, and placed in Ringo’s mouth. “I was smoking that.” You grumbled. “We’re just trying to look out for you, darling.” Paul placed his hand on your cheek; and you tried to not melt into his affection - truth is the boys made your knees weak. All of them. But you couldn’t tell them that. No way in hell. “Yeah, well don’t.” You pushed his hand away, (reluctantly, of course).

“We wouldn’t want anything to happen to you (Y/n), we all care about you... a lot.” Ringo said, as the two boys shared a look at the confession. “I know and I care about you guys too.” You told them, with a shrug. “No, (Y/n). We all really care about you.” He continued, emphasising the word: ‘really’. Ringo was itching to place a hand on your knee, trying to get his point across without having to verbally express it, but was in no way, shape, or form, even slightly prepared to make you uncomfortable. He was in love with you, for fucks sake, and taking advantage was completely out of the question. No meant no. To all of them. You weren’t stupid, you knew what they were implying, but you were so shocked that you couldn’t tell them that their feelings were completely reciprocated.

“He’s trying to tell you that we’re love you, (Y/n).” Paul shouted ridiculously fast, but you understood every word. You inhaled a shaky breath. The two looked at each other with a sorrowful expression, before you threw your head back, surprising the both of them with your sudden action. “Thank fuck for that, I’ve been in love with you all since before I even joined the band but I didn’t want to make it awkward, and then-” You rambled on, but was cut off by Paul’s lips on your own. His moulded with yours, as you began to kiss back. You felt yourself being pulled onto Ringo’s lap, something hard pressing on the inside of your thigh. You moaned slightly, shifting into a comfortable position, hearing a low groan emit from the man behind you. “Fuck baby, you feel what you’re doing to me?” Ringo asked, biting onto your neck, while he circled his hips into your own. “F-fuck.” You whimpered.

Paul pulled back, leading you to complain at the loss of contact. “Is this okay, princess?” He asked, and you nodded in response, trying to kiss him again. “Words, baby, we can stop if you want.” He said, softly. “No, no please I want this.” You sat back in surrender, causing Ringo to hiss in pleasure at the shift in contact. You threw your head back against his shoulder, allowing him easier access to the sweet-spot, on your neck. You heard both of the front doors open and close quickly, but you were too ate-up to care, eyes having fallen shut. “Sharing is caring, lads,” You heard John say, after they got over the initial shock of what was happening in the car. “She loves us, lads - we’re got the jackpot here!” Paul told them, to which they happily chuckled. “Not letting us join in?” George asked with a pout, when you finally opened your eyes. You laughed, as much as you could muster.

“Well, birdie?” John took a hold of your chin from the driver’s seat, and moved it so you couldn’t look anywhere but his eyes. “Want us to join in?” You nodded furiously, too focused on Ringo’s tongue lapping over the bite marks he made on your neck, to care. “Come on darlin’, you need to use your words, we need to know you’re alright with this.” George told you. “Yes, please.” You breathed, and that was all you needed. The two up front retracted their seats back hurriedly, allowing enough room in the tight, yet apparently spacious enough car, to move around in. Ringo got the keys from his pocket, and lobbed them carelessly on the dash, for whoever was driving to use later on, to return to the apartment.

You were carefully passed over to George, who was over-eager to undress you, but refrained. “Is this okay?” He asked, tenderly. “Yes, fuck please just do something.” You spoke, but it was said over a loud moan, from your throat. He quickly discarded Ringo’s coat which was down by your waist, and went to lift your dress up to your stomach, but stopped when he noticed your lack of underwear. “Bloody hell, (Y/n), were you just trying to get fucked by him?” He scolded, which only turned you on more. The rest of The Beatles took note on how you reacted to George’s comment. You shook your head, innocently, yet the situation was anything but.

“You were just dying to fuck him, weren’t you birdie?” Paul provoked, causing you to moan louder. “Trying to be a little slut?” You couldn’t take the sexual frustration any longer, being so flustered to take matters into your own hands. You tried to move your hand to fuck yourself, but your wrists were grabbed by Ringo. “What do you think you’re doing?” He hummed, pinning them above your head, which was close enough to his lap. “Nothing.” You lied. “Nothing? I think you need to be shown who’s in charge here, sweet heart.” John told you, to which the others agreed immediately. “And remember, if you want us to stop at any time, just say so.” Ringo reminded, and you nodded. “Okay, I will.”

George smirked, face getting closer to your heat. Your eyes were locked, unable to pull away, wanting to see what he was going to do. Ringo pulled you up higher, head now in his lap (yet not close enough to anything in particular), arms held high, restricting your use of them, so George could get easier access to you. He gently blew cold air onto your clit, causing you to let out an angelic noise, gracing their ears. “Look at you, so needy.” He said. “It’s almost as if we were about to fuck you.” With that, he licked a bold stripe up your entrance, tongue toying with you, lapping up the juices you had made. “So wet,” John pointed out. “All for us?” He questioned, beginning to pull your dress up higher. “Hmm, all for you guys.” You responded, feeling your dress being ridden up past your chest, and up to your neck, where Ringo had already left his mark, just moments before. Ringo lifted you slightly, and you made an effort to help, yet to know avail, John simply ripped the fabric, throwing it carelessly to the side. “T-that, that was an e-ex, expensive dress.” You spluttered out, between heightened breaths. “I’ll buy you a new one, darlin’. Any you want.” John said, shrugging.

John immediately attacked your breasts with his mouth, biting and sucking on one, and attending to the other with his hand, needing your sensitive nub between his fingers. You hissed at the feeling. “You like that?” Paul asked, and you nodded, causing him to chuckle. You focused on the way George worked on you with his tongue, a build up in your stomach already increasing the feeling of ecstasy you were receiving. You arched your back up off of the seat, but George slammed it back down. Ringo began kissing down your arms until he reached the base, where he kissed you lips tenderly, feeling Paul creating love-marks on your shoulder. “I’m gonna cum.” You managed to breathe out, but suddenly George stopped. You almost screamed. “What the fuck-” You complained, and the other boys stopped, your juices lathering George’s fingers when he quickly pushed them in, but did nothing to the pain of pleasure you felt in your core. “Taste yourself baby,” He moved the two of his fingers towards your mouth, which you obediently opened, sucking on the, moans vibrating through his fingers when you tasted yourself on them. “Such a good girl.” John purred.

“Please,” You groaned out. “Need to cum.” It didn’t even form a full sentence, but it got the point across. “You can cum on my cock, love.” Paul told you, and George instantly flipped you around, so that your arse was in the air, chest resting on the seat. You looked up at Ringo, who groaned. George shifted out of the way, swapping positions with Paul, who unbuckled his trousers, and slid them down his legs. “You sure?” He asked from behind you. “Yes!” You couldn’t be bothered to even argue against them asking, just needing a release. He teased the tip at your entrance, circling it a few times. “Mm, fucking soaking.” He slammed into you mercilessly, relentlessly fucking you from behind. You cried out, looking up at Ringo with those big, doleful eyes. He, in turn, unbuckled his own trousers, pushing the, down past his knees, from where he was sat, in the backseat. “Suck on me, baby.” He told you, and you did as he said, “Good girl. Being a nice little slut.” John complimented, and you hummed in pleasure, the vibrations sent through George’s cock, causing him to moan.

It was difficult to keep up with the pass of both sucking off Ringo, and feeling the pleasure of Paul fucking you viciously. John and George had taking matters into their own hands, jerking themselves off - getting turned on at the sight in front of them. Moans were loud throughout the car, as well as the praises being sent your way from the four boys. “So fucking tight for us,” Paul said. “Shit, (Y/n), just like that, love.” Ringo had commented. As well as the other two moaning your name, practically shouting compliments at how well you were doing. “So fucking good.” “Well done princess.” “Keep going darling.” “Bloody hell, (Y/n).” You couldn’t handle it, your thighs shaking against Paul’s thrusts. He obviously noticed. “You gonna cum for us, love? You gonna be a good little slut?” You came undone, cumming all over Paul’s cock, as he rode out your high, following soon after, letting go deep inside of you. You (somehow), kept going with Ringo, eventually feeling his hands pushing your head further down his shaft, almost causing you to gag a bit. “(Y/n).” Careless whispers of your name we’re heard as he shot ribbons of hot cum down your throat, you pulling your head back, off of him. You maintained eye contact with him, licking around your mouth, and swallowing, making him moan again. John and Paul had also came undone beneath the view, a car filled with hot, sweaty pants.

Paul pulled out of you, sending you praise as he slid his underwear and tour sets back on, as did the others. Ringo pulled you up, gently, sitting you in his lap, where you laid limply against his shoulder, still breathing heavily. All the boys looked at you in awe, your naked body, legs dripping with Paul’s cum, everything was incredible. “I don’t have any tissues.” Was someone all the boys said, before John commented: “guess you’re just going to have to put up with having Paul’s cum dripping down your pretty legs until we get home, aren’t you princess?” You whimpered slightly.

The boys pulled their seats back, John grabbing the keys from the dashboard, beginning to drive back to their apartment. Ringo grabbed his jacket, throwing it snugly around you once more, to keep you warm on the drive home, cradled into his arms. “Thank you, Richie.” You said, feeling your legs being lifted into Paul’s lap. “Anytime, baby.” He smiled, although you could not see it through hooded eyelids, which were slowly forcing you to sleep. “I love you.” You shot to no one in particular, which received a choruses of: “We love you too”’s. You contently drifted to sleep, in one of your lover’s arms.

“Holy shit that was amazing.” Paul said, throwing his head back, tiredly. “We gonna have to share her?” Ringo asked, looking down at your sleeping figure, selfish thoughts wanting you all to himself. “Well I’m not giving her up.” John said. “Neither am I.” George commented. “Me neither.” Paul looked at you, smiling lovingly. “Nope, not for the world.” Ringo almost cooed. “Then yeah mate, we’re sharing her. All to ourselves.” John concluded, the rest of the drive steady, and mostly-quiet, the silent thoughts of your moans loudly consuming the car.

When you arrived, the boys took you inside, rushing you in so that any hidden spectators were unable to see you in such a venerable state, curled up in Ringo Starr’s arms.When you woke in the morning, it appeared that the apartment’s two twin beds were pushed together. You were in the middle of the four, John to the left, Paul, who was holding you tightly in his arms, to the right. Ringo and George to the other side of them. Turns out, they had cleaned your thighs, and themselves the night before, not prepared to leave you with another, an arrogant moment for the lot of them, but they were so attached to you that the two beds together was the only solution last night.

One question stood though,

‘What were you going to say to Brian when you can’t walk into the studio?’

#the Beatles #smut #the beatles x reader #the Beatles x reader smut #OneShot #fan fiction #Liverpool #60s #paul mccartney #john lennon #Ringo starr #Richard starkey #George Harrison #x reader #x reader smut #Paul McCartney x reader #Paul McCartney x reader smut #John Lennon x reader #John Lennon x reader smut #Ringo starr x reader #Ringo starr x reader smut #Richard starkey x reader #Richard starkey x reader smut #Ritchie #Ritchie starkey #Ritchie starkey x reader #Ritchie starkey x reader smut #George Harrison x reader #George Harrison x reader smut #Warner sister

[thelastdj]

In My Life

Pairing: Paul McCartney x Beatle!reader

Genre: idk what to call this. kinda a sadish thing with a happy ending.

Summary: (y/n) leaves the band after an argument with Paul. She goes back home to Germany, but Paul follows her.

Warning: cursing

Note: This is 100% fictional, the timeline also may not be accurate. Most songs aren't from that era either, sorry. Fyi, Paul and (y/n) had a one night stand a couple years back.

(y/n)- Your name

(y/f/n)- Your full name

(y/n/n)- your nickname

masterlist

°°°°°°°°°°°°

Three bloody months and Paul still hadn’t heard anything from (y/n). It was as if she had disappeared into thin air. He had come knocking at her front door every day for the past few weeks just to be told by the maid that (y/n) was out. It was getting ridiculous. He knew that the last time they had seen each other, he had hurt her. He had hurt all of his friends. John, Ringo, George hadn’t spoken to him either, but at least he knew that they were still alive. (y/n) on the other hand had vanished.

“Please Louise, just tell her I want to apologize.” he begged the maid for the 35th time.

“I am sorry, Mr. McCartney, but she is not at home.” Louise replied calmly.

“Is she even in the bloody country?” he asked exasperatedly.

“No, she went back home. She told me she’s making her own album. I am not sure when she will be back.” Louise said, surprised that he didn’t know.

“Wait, she’s in Germany?”

“Why yes. Didn’t she say so?”

“No, no she didn’t.” he said quietly.

He couldn’t believe that he had hurt (y/n) so badly that she had left the country. She had gone right back to the place she had left a decade ago.

He had to make this right again. He had to apologize.

°°°

He walked into the tiny studio. Paul hadn’t even made it to the reception area, when he already heard her voice.

“We only said goodby with words, I died a hundred times”

He stood still, to listen to (y/n)’s voice a little more

“Ohmeingott, Paul McCartney.” the receptionist squeaked when she noticed him come in. [you probably already got the gist of this but it means ‘ohmygod Paul McCartney’]

“Umm… could you please tell (y/n)(y/l/n) that I’m here?” he asked tentatively, knowing that in such a small town the receptionist would not know english.

“Wie bitte?” she asked, confirming his suspicions. [pardon me]

“Who ist (y/f/n)” he asked again, trying to remember some German she had taught him many years ago. [Where is (y/f/n]

“Sie ist oben. Gehen sie die Treppen hoch un dann die erste Tür rechts.” the receptionist said, pointing to the stairs in the back of the room. [she is upstairs. go up the stairs and then the first door right]

“Danke,” Paul thanked her, and made his way upstairs, following the sound of (y/n)’s voice. [thanks]

He quietly opened the door and entered the small room. (y/n) stood in the booth, a group of session musicians behind her. There was only one other person on his side of the glass. The bearded man who seemed to be the one recording turned and looked at him, but didn’t say anything. After a few seconds he turned back to (y/n).

Hesitantly, Paul walked inside the studio, moving to stand in front of the window, so (y/n) could know that he was there. But the woman he wanted to be seen by didn’t notice him for the whole time she was singing. Her eyes were closed, and she was focusing on the song with her whole being. After a few bars, the music died down and (y/n) opened her eyes. She had a big smile on her face, proud of herself for singing the last song. She jumped when she saw him standing there. The producer saw her reaction and gave her a look that asked ‘you know this guy?‘. She quickly composed herself and smiled. Giving Paul a small wave, (y/n) turned to the microphone.

“Sind wir hier fertig, Max?” she asked. [are we done here, max?]

“Lass uns noch ein Lied heute machen, ok?“ the producer said. [lets do one more song, ok]

(y/n) snapped her fingers for a few beats and then began to sing again, the musicians following her lead with a bluesy tune.

“All I can ever be to you

Is a darkness that we know

And this regret I got accustomed to

Once it was so right

When we were at our high

Waiting for you in the hotel at night”

Paul watched her closely, not in the way a stalker stares at the object of their obsession, but in the way someone stares in wonder as the friend they have known all their life turns into something more.

It was as if he had never seen her before. Here, (y/n) performed with such confidence that she had never had in the studios the Beatles had recorded in. Her voice was different too. It was louder, fuller and more confident. It would now be impossible to just brush her off as someone who sang backing harmonies with George and Ringo.

“I cannot play myself again

I should just be my own best friend

Not fuck myself in the head with stupid men

He walks away

The sun goes down

He takes the day, but I'm grown

And in your way

In this blue shade

My tears dry on their own”

She even looked different. Time away from England had done her well. (y/n) no longer carried the sad, weary look in her eyes.  Her (y/h/c) hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail, but her stubborn bags still fell around her face. She wore nothing fancy, just a simple black dress and boots, but to Paul, (y/n) looked as beautiful as ever.

°°°

“(y/n)”

“Hi Paul.” she said, giving him a small smile, “what brings you here?”

“I wanted to apologize for-” he began, but (y/n) interrupted him.

“Let’s talk over lunch. I know a place.”

He nodded in agreement and (y/n) led the way out of the studio. They walked around town a bit, it turned out to be even smaller than it seemed last night, when he was driving to the hotel. In the end, they stopped at a small pub that Paul immediately recognized. The Blues Cafe.

“I remember this place. We played our first show with you in the band here.”


(y/n) grinned, “Yeah, we did.”

“Does your grandfather still own this place?” he asked.

“Yeah, he still does. I'm working there again.”

“You’re joking.”

“Nope.”

“You’re a bartender?”

“I prefer the term bistro manager, but on Tuesdays, Fridays and Saturdays, yeah I’m a bartender.” she joked. Her (y/e/c) eyes sparkled mischievously, just like they always did when she was making a joke or saying something sarcastic.

Paul laughed at her statement. It felt good to be around her again. He had missed (y/n) more than he realized.

“You went from world famous musician to bartender?”

“Yep.” she said cheerfully, popping the p.

“You are a strange woman (y/f/n)”

“Thank you darling. Now come in,” she said, and went inside.

The pub hadn’t changed much. Maybe there were a few more tables here and there, but that was it. The bar still ran along the right wall, and the same stage the Beatles had performed on in the early days stood to the right. A ragtag bunch of musicians that had taken residence upon that very stage, and they were softly doing Roy Orbison covers or something like that.

Paul followed (y/n) to a free table in the back and they ordered food and drinks.

“What did you want to talk about?” (y/n) asked him when the waiter went away.

“I wanted to apologize for what I said the last time we saw each other…”

°°°

*Flashback*

“Leave him alone Paul. He has written better songs than you and John combined.” (y/n) said when Paul made an offhand comment on George’s latest composition.

“That’s just like you, (y/n), sticking up for George. It’s not like you can write a good song for your life.” John butted in before Paul could reply.

“I CAN write a song. And I have written multiple songs. You all just won’t record them.” (y/n) spat back.

“Darling, I don’t know if it’s you or your guitar that is out of tune, but the reason we never record your songs is because they’re bollocks.” Paul said without thinking.

(y/n) was silent for a moment. “Fuck you Paul,” she said softly.

Then she abruptly got up, dropped the guitar that had been resting on her knees and ran out of the studio as fast as she could.

°°°

“…I was an arse. A complete idiot. and I wanted to apologize for that. I’m sorry for never supporting you when you wanted us to record your songs. It was unfair. I should have actually listened to what you wrote. From what I heard in the studio, your songs are amazing. I know that this doesn’t make what I said okay again, but I had to apologize. You’re still one of my best friends, and I shouldn’t have hurt you like that.”

Paul stopped his rambling to look up at (y/n), who was grinning at him.

“I’m sorry.” he repeated one last time.

“I heard. And it’s okay.” (y/n) said, “I forgive you.”

He couldn’t help but smile in relief. “Thank goodness.”

“So how did you find me?” (y/n) asked, resting her head on her hand and looking up at him.

“I pestered Louise until she told me where you are.” he said jokingly, trying to make it sound like he wasn’t desperate to see her.

“You did not.”

“Everyday, for 35 days.” he admitted.

“Damn Macca, you’re persistent.” she laughed.

Paul smiled at her use of his old nickname. It had been a while since one of them had said it.

“Why did you come back here?” he asked.

(y/n) laughed sadly, “I just had to get away from everything. All the cameras, all the fans,” she gestured around the half empty pub, “these people still see me as little (y/n/n) who used to run around playing waitress or putting on shows after school, not as (y/f/n) the fifth Beatle. I just needed the feeling of anonymity, if that’s what you can call it, again.”

He smiled, “I get that. It’s hard sometimes.”

“How are the others?” (y/n) asked, “I haven’t spoken to them since I left.”

“They’re okay. We all miss you, you know?.”

(y/n) was about to say something when an older man casually strolled up to where they were sitting, he gave Paul a polite nod and turned to (y/n).

“Komm und sing uns was, (y/n/n).” [come and sing us something]

“Jetzt nicht, Onkel Peter. Ich red doch gerade.“ [Not now, uncle Peter. im talking now.]

“Ach komm, nur ein par lieder.“ [come on, only a few songs]

She gave Paul an apologetic look.

“They want me to sing a bit.” she explained, “I can always tell them no, if you want.”

“No, no, no. Go on. Don’t let me be a bother.” he said encouragingly and (y/n) grinned.

She walked over to the stage and borrowed the microphone from the current singer.

“Guten tag alle miteinander. Wie geht es euch?” [Good day everyone. How are you?]

The crowd cheered.

“Dieses lied sorted ihr kennen, also singt mit.“ [You should know this song, so sing along]

(y/n) started singing one of her favorite songs, Blue Moon.

After the song was done the crowd gave a small cheer, and (y/n) took a small bow before she made a little speech.

“Ich freue mich euch mitzuteilen das einer guter freund von mir mich heute besucht. Und ich glaube das er sich freuen würde, ein lied mit mir zu singen.” then she finished in english, “Paul, get your ass up here.” [I am happy to tell you all that one of my good friends is visiting me today. And I'm sure he would love to sing a song with me.]

He looked around in surprise, but (y/n) gestured for him to come on stage.

“You know this one.” she said to him as the band began to play a familiar song. (y/n) nodded at him, signaling him to start the song.

I saw her today, I saw her face

It was the face I loved and I knew

I had to run away and get down on my knees

And pray that they'd go away

But still they begin

The chorus began and (y/n) joined in

Needles and pins

Because of all my pride

The tears I gotta hide

Hey, I thought I was smart

I'd win her heart

Didn't think I'd do, but now I see

She's worse to him than me

Let her go ahead

Take his love instead

And one day she will see

Just how to say please

And get down on her knees

Hey, that's how it begins

She'll feel those needles and pins

Hurtin' her, hurtin' her

Why can't I stop and tell myself

I'm wrong, I'm wrong, so wrong

Why can't I stand up

And tell myself I'm strong

Because I saw her today, I saw her face

It was the face I loved and I knew

I had to run away and get down on my knees

And pray that they'd go away

But still they begin

Needles and pins

Because of all my pride

The tears I gotta hide

Oh, needles and pins

Needles and pins

Needles and pins

°°°

They spent the rest of the day together. (y/n) showed him around town, visiting all the places they used to go when they were in Germany with the band. When it began getting dark, she walked him back to his hotel.

“So how long are you staying here?” (y/n) asked, and Paul detected a hint of hopefulness in her voice.

“I’m flying back home tomorrow.” Paul replied sheepishly.

“Why?” she asked, this time disappointment clearly written on her face.

“I was worried you would still be angry at me, and not accept my apology and I didn’t want to stick around if that was the case.”

“Oh, who said I wasn’t still angry with you?” (y/n) said.

“You are?” he asked worriedly.

“Oh I’m furious.” (y/n) said, but only now did Paul catch the joking tone she was using.

By then, they had arrived at the door to the hotel he was staying at.

“I had fun tonight,” he admitted.

“Yeah. It was nice singing with you again Macca.”

Maybe it was the way she was looking at him, maybe it was because they were back in Germany, or maybe it was the simple fact that he was in love with her, but Paul leaned down and kissed her.

(y/n) was the first to pull away. He opened his eyes to look at her. Her (y/e/c) eyes were still shut, her lips pressed tightly together, as if to stop herself from crying.

“No,” (y/n) whispered, “I’m sorry. I can’t do this again. I can’t bear to be another one night stand again. I want to be with you for more than one night every few years.”

Tears were forming quickly in (y/n)’s eyes, but she continued, her voice shaking.

“If that's all you’ll ever want from me, tell me now, so I can still walk away with my heart intact. It took me four years to heal since you broke it that last time. I don’t know if I could do it again. So what will it be, Paul?”

He was so shocked at her statement that he couldn’t make himself utter a single word.  (y/n) seemed to accept this as his answer. Her eyes filled with tears and she turned away.

“Goodbye Paul.” she said and began walking back down the dark road.

“(y/n) wait!” he called after her.

Either she didn't hear him, or chose to ignore him, but (y/n) didn’t turn back. He cursed under his breath and took off after her.

“(y/n)! Don't go.”

She spun around

“I want you, (y/n). I want to be with you.”

“Are you sure?”

“I have never been more sure of anything in my life.”

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

The songs used in order are:

- Back to black (Amy Winehouse)

- Tears dry on their own (Amy Winehouse)

- Needles and Pins (The Searchers)

#paul mccartney x reader #the beatles #the beatles x reader #paul mccartney #george harrison #john lennon #ringo starr #the beatles oneshots #the beatles imagine #paul mccartney imagine #paul mccartney oneshot #classic rock imagine #mattie writes #fanfic

[mimikyugirl]

SUMMER DAY

Macca invites you to a day at the pool with the guys, and it's the first time George sees you in a bikini.

F!Reader x George Harrison

The sun was uncomfortably against your eyes (damn you for not listening to Paul when he said to bring your glasses!) as you stepped out into the garden.

John and Ringo could easily be mistaken for children by anyone who passed by, such was the noise they made in the pool.

Paul, who had greeted you at the door wearing only his swim trunks and sunglasses, quickly handed you a glass that clinked with more ice cubes than you could count.

The sunny day really was the perfect invitation to spend the day on the water, but refreshing yourself with Paul's whiskey and coke wouldn't make you feel any more comfortable for what was about to happen.

Getting into your bathing suit in front of Paul was easy, since he was too busy watching Ringo in the water to even look in your direction. John and Ringo, on the other hand, were perfectly busy trying to climb on top of each other. It was George that worried you.

He was in the far corner of the garden, sitting on one of the armbands with his sunglasses and a camera. He laughed as he took pictures of the guys at the pool and Paul, posing exaggeratedly near the gate. George's laugh brightened your day much more than the sun at the height of summer.

"Y/N is here!" Paul announced, drawing everyone eyes to you.

John waved at you, which gave Ringo enough time to attack him and push him to the bottom of the pool, making you laugh.

George, who was currently trying to light a cigarette, finally noticed your presence.

A long sip of coke and whiskey gave you enough courage for the next act.

You took off the dress you were wearing in a single movement, exposing the red bikini you've carefully chosen to get that exact reaction out of George. You saw his hand slowly return to the starting position, and the cigarette just dangle over his lips. George had never seen you in a bikini, and clearly he loved the sight.

So focused were you on observing your effect on George, you didn't even notice that all the mess in the water had stopped and John was walking slowly towards you.

"Glad you took off your clothes, Y/N" You heard Paul scream laughing, finally making you see John "Because you're about to get real wet."

There was no time to even protest. In the next second you were in John's lap being thrown into the pool. Ringo laughed frantically and George got up to photograph the scene. You came out of the water trying to decide whether to hit John or control your laughter.

"Glad I took a picture of you before dat" You heard George say, putting the camera down and reaching out to pull you out of the water "Before your hair went out in all directions like that, y'know."

You grabbed George's hand and pulled him into the pool without mercy. He went down with a loud scream, which sent Ringo into another fit of laughter.

"Let's see if your hair looks good after this, luve" you said, watching as he tried to get to his feet in the water.

George just shook his hair a little and approached you in the water, taking advantage of John and Ringo being already distracted chasing Paul around the pool "Do I still look good?"

You couldn't deny he did. Little drops of water trickled towards his mouth, his hair was falling over his eyes, now shining freely in your direction without his glasses, and his fangs jutted out in a beautiful smile for you.

"There's no help for dat face of yours, Harrison" You said, splashing George's face with water to push him away.

George grabbed your arm and pulled you against him "I love what you're wearing" he whispered now that your legs were wrapped around his waist "It made you even more beautiful, if that's possible."

The thin fabric of the bikini wasn't enough of a barrier for you not to feel the warmth and firmness of his body beneath yours, but hopefully George would think your red face was just an effect of the sun and not of the proximity you two shared.

You didn't expect him to have the guts to be so open about the tension you've shared for weeks, but seeing him there flirting so shamelessly with you made you feel an absurd urge to lean down and kiss him.

But it wasn't necessary, as George was already approaching, staring at your lips.

When your eyes were already closing, the sound of glass breaking took you two out of the private world you created in the water.

George looked around quickly, found one of the drinking glasses broken near the pool and Ringo standing there looking at John with the most guilty face in the world.

"It was John" was all he said before entering the house.

"I TOLD YOU TO STOP RUNNING AROUND THE POOL" George yelled, turning for a moment to kiss your cheek and whispering that he would be back in a moment, before hurrying to the edge to check if anyone was hurt.

You couldn't control the smile, eagerly awaiting the moment when he would return and help cool off the heat you felt. Now much more than the sun, George was the reason you were grateful for the coolness of the water.

#the beatles #john lennon #paul mccartney #the beatles fanfiction #george harrison #fanfic #love #ringo starr #george harrison fanfiction #george harrison imagine #george harrison x reader #the beatles oneshot #the beatles fanfic #the beatles imagine #the beatles x reader

[oldschoolimagineblog]

First Time - Ringo Starr

Pairing: Ringo Starr x Reader

Words: 800+

Request:  May I request a sweet Ringo smut, where he takes the readers v-card is is super sweet afterwards. Like he makes sure the reader is comfortable, and they cuddle and watch movies.

Warning: Smut; first time sex.

Category: Smut.

A/N: --

“Are you sure” he mumbled, I nodded. My heart was beating fast, and without hesitating I brought my lips towards his.

We stood in his bedroom, lips locked and slowly walking backwards, my hands on his neck and his on my hips, fingers toying with the hem of my blouse.

He broke the kiss and tugged the blouse upwards, I raised my hands in hopes to help him get rid of it faster. Taking a step closer, our breaths mixing, he unclipped my bra, slowly sliding it off my shoulders.

“Are you okay with this?” he whispered, “Yes”.

He swallowed thick at the sight of my naked chest, and breathing heavily, he laid me on his bed, his lips around my nipple, liking and sucking, and whimpering I took a handful of his hair, pressing my legs together.

He balanced his weight pressing his forearm on the bed, beside my torso. His free hand grouping my other breast.

I could feel the wetness pooling on my slit. He detached his lips from my bud, and left a trail of warm wet kisses until reaching the waistband of my shorts, stopping and looking up at me, “This okay?”, I nodded again.

His fingers quickly worked their way through the button, and slid them of my legs.

He eyed my body, his shining with lust, as the only covered part of my body was my core.

“It’s not fair Ringo, you’re fully clothed” I whined, he smiled, “We should do something about it”.

Getting his feet on the floor, he took his shirt and pants off, taking his underwear in the process. The bulge that was once hidden in his pants, was now fully exposed to me, with pre cum leaking from the tip.

My heart kicking with nervousness and my heat aching friction. I stood on my knees in the bed, and motioned him get close, he mimicked my position in bed and stood close to me, I kissed him, this time lust taking over.

While one of my hands stood on his neck, the other wondered around chest, traveling south until lightly brushing over his cock, causing him to whimper in surprise, smirking through the kiss as he kissed me harder, his hands on my neck pulling me closer.

I traced my fingers on his shaft, getting to known him, and when I reached the tip I wrapped my hand around it, adding a little pressure before beginning the wrist motion.

The strokes where slow and tight, his hips buckling against my hand, he pulled away and groaned, pushing me against the mattress, kissing my neck while his hands explored my chest.

“Darling, go faster” he pleaded, his voice cracking as I did as told. He let his hand wonder and reached my covered heat.

Gently sliding his fingers inside my panties, his fingertips on my folds, glazing them in my arousal, before moving over to massage my clitoris.

Tracing gentle eight figures on it, causing me to moan, the grasp on his length stopping, allowing me to focus on the pleasure I was receiving.

“Love, I need you, can I?” he asked, in his voice desperation was recognizable. I frantically nodded, wanting more of him.

He quickly reached out for the bedside table and took a condom, slipping the rubber on his dick while I took the remaining clothing off.

He hovered over me once more, and kiss me, “You good?”, “Never been better, I love you Rich”, he smiled, “I love you too y/n”

He slowly slid into my opening, stretching the walls around him. I tensed at the feeling, closing my walls around him “you’re so tight” he murmured.

When he bottomed, he stood still, let me adjust to the new filling.

“I’m gonna move know”

He began slowly, enjoying the feeling himself, kissing my neck, hoping it’d soothe the pain.

After a while, the pain seized, and it started to feel better, though the stinging was still there.

He started to move faster, and his finger moved down to my clit rubbing circles on it, making me moan, a smirk growing on his face.

“Shit baby I’m cuming”

His moves became quicker as messier, his body stiffened and pulled out. Breathing heavily as his fingers entered my core, curling inside, making me moan out, and taking the sheets in between my hands.

The pressure quickly build up on my lower belly, his thumb rubbing my clit, my back arching as I came on his fingers.

His lips taking over mine, as the sensation went away.

We both laid in bed, he turned on the tv and decided on the first movie he found, holding me close to him, our naked bodies pressed against each other under the covers.

“So…how was it?” he nervously asked.

“It was the best sex I’ve had in my life” I laughed.

#ringo starr #ringo starr oneshot #ringo starr smut #ringo starr imagine #the beatles #the beatles oneshot #the beatles imagine #the beatles smut

[johns-diqi]

Get back is making me sad so does anyone have some John being extremely soft and whipped for Paul fics or oneshots??

#the beatles #john lennon #paul mccartney #george harrison #ringo starr #DO YALL KEEP THOSE ON HAND CUS I NEED A HUG AND I JUST READ A REALLY CUTE SOFT JOHN ONESHOT AND NOW I WANT MORE FROM IT HELP #mclennon #mclennon fics #mclennon fic recs #fic recs #h e l p #fluff #mclennon fluff

[iheartjohnlennon]

Fic masterlist!

Imagines/Oneshots/Fics

John Lennon

'Let me take you down'

A sultry threesome with John and Paul...

'Lost weekend'

John eats you out as an apology...

'Misty'

John comes over to sort things out...

'You know I feel alright'

John gets jealous and takes you to the broom closet...

'Because'

John gets you high, one thing leads to another...

'You really got a hold on me'

John's secret love for his assistant gets uncovered...

Paul McCartney

'All my loving'

A casual session with Paul...

'Let me take you down'

A sultry threesome with John and Paul...

'Looking out for you'

Paul apologises for his jealousy over another man...

'Synchronised'

You and Paul try 69...

'Any time at all, any time at all'

Paul drags you to the nearest broom closet...

George Harrison

'Moonlight on the river'

The aftermath of fucking on the beach is pretty melancholy...

'Heaven is a bedroom'

You guys make the cutest throuple...

'I'd have you anytime'

George confesses his love to you, with help from Paul and Ringo...

'Behind that locked door'

You want to try something new on George, something that will leave him breathless and restrained...

Ringo Starr

'Heaven is a bedroom'

You guys make the cutest throuple...

Headcanons

You dating George as Ringo's sibling

Your relationship with teddy boy John

Their reaction, and the aftermath, of you wanting to be dominant

Alphabets

The Beatles NSFW Alphabet - John

The Beatles NSFW Alphabet - Paul

Others

Mick Jagger

'Luna, amore e no'

Mick's sexy affair with a fashion designer who's making his wife's wedding dress...

And there'll always be more to come...

I accept requests!! Please do send them!!!! Please!!!!

Check out my ao3 x

Ily <3333

#paul mccartney x reader #the beatles #60s rock #the beatles imagine #the beatles smuts #vintage #the beatles x reader #john lennon x reader #john lennon #paul mccartney #george harrison imagine #george harrison x reader #george harrison #the beatles fandom #the beatles fanfiction #beatlemania #spotify #beatles art #rock music #classic rock #rock n roll #rpf #paul mccartney imagine #smut #oneshot #the rolling stones #mick jagger #rock

[beatsforbeatles]

Would you mind writing something where you're in class with teddy boy ringo and you're passing flirty notes back and forth, and the teacher catches you, and makes ringo read one of the more embarrassing notes out loud to the class? Thank a million.

I tried so hard to keep it fluffy but a bit of angst crept in there at the end. Oops.   

              Itstarted with a note taped to your locker. At first you thought it was a joke.The writing was bad and you were being compared to a wild animal that’s beenknown to viciously attack people. Your feelings were hurt so bad you went homecrying after crumpling the note up and shoving it in the trash. Another one wason your locker the next day. You didn’t even read it before tossing it away. Aweek later you came across another one except it was on the inside cover ofyour English book instead of hanging on your locker. This one you read.

               The blue dress you wore yesterday made youreyes look lovely.

               That’smore like it.

               Youstarted leaving replies before ultimately asking them just who exactly theywere. It ended up being a teddy boy named Richard Starkey in (unsurprisingly)your English class. The two of you kept passing notes for months. You’d hand itoff in the hallway, getting it back when he slipped it inside your Englishbook. He even moved beside you to make the note passing easier.

               Neitherof you stopped to think if anyone has noticed. You were so wrapped up in yourown little world it just never occurred to you that someone might tell. Years later you would look back onthis particular day at school and still not know exactly what happened. Onemoment you were working on an assignment, the next you were being humiliated.Or Richie was rather. The teacher had him stood at the front of the room, notein her wrinkled old hand.

               Oh no.

               Oh, god, no.

               It’snot that you two were embarrassed to be talking to each other or anything likethat. It’s just that some of the notes got pretty… well, cheesy. Adorable? No, cheesy.

               “Mr.Starkey,” the teacher held up the note for the whole class to look at. “Whywere you putting this in another student’s book?”

               Richiestumbled over an explanation that didn’t even sound like an explanation.

               “Areyou cheating, Mr. Starkey?”

               “No!”

               “Thenexplain to the class what this is.”

               Youwant to rush to his aid, but something keeps you glued to your seat. You can’tmove, can’t help, can’t do anything other than watch. Thinking back on it, thisis probably where your hatred of public humiliation came from. Watching poorRitchie being harassed by an ‘authority figure’.

               “I… no.”Ritchie shakes his head, stance firm. He won’t be humiliated by some old ladywith too much time on her hands.

               “PerhapsI should?”

               “No!”

               “Thenread.” She hands him the note and Ritchie looks like he’s about to faint. Hestarts talking so low and so quick you can’t even make out the words. Theteacher doesn’t let this slide no matter how hard you wish otherwise. “Louder,Mr. Starkey, and slower.”

               Richtakes a breath. “Sometimes when I look at yeh I can’t believe yeh even like me.Yer so pretty and smart and when yeh smile I can’t breathe. It’s not ‘cause ofasthma either. Yer proper fit and have a nice arse. Especially in that bluedress.”

               Itstarted out so well, but that’sRitchie for you. He’ll be romantic and lovely until he just isn’t. Then he getsa little embarrassing and cringe worthy. And this is certainly one of his moreembarrassing and cringe worthy notes.

               Theclass laughs.

               You don’t.

               You’re worried what this is goingto do to Ritchie. He’s always had an awful time in school and this has to bethe icing on the cake for him. He looks shaky as he sits back down beside you,pale and uncomfortable. He won’t meet your eyes for the rest of the class.

              At the end of the day he meets youout front as usual. There’s a sheet of paper in his hand and he shoves ittoward you as he walks off.

              Ilove you. I’m sorry.

             You don’t get another note for areally long time.

#ringo starr imagine #ringo starr oneshot #beatles imagine #beatles oneshot #Anonymous

[ringstarrr]

Stepping outside, she is free

summary: your parents go to your shared apartment to meet ringo for the first time while he's filming the let it be documentary

paring: ringo starr x fem!reader

warnings: spoilers for the get back series, nosy parents, cursing

author's note: this is inspired on "she's leaving home". just wanted to write something for sweet boy ringo. i'm not doing well right now, so i'm focused on writing more frequently to get my mind off of things. send in requests, please!

1969.

You were feeling insecure. Your parents were coming over to dinner to meet Ringo, and you could already hear their judgemental and not-asked for perceptions of your life with your boyfriend. They were coming in the next few hours, but you swore you saw your mother rolling her eyes.

Attempting to avoid most of the bad things they probably would say, you were cleaning and getting everything in place since the early morning. You even woke up before Ringo had to leave for the studio, which he found odd. You were a deep sleeper and liked to sleep in whenever you could, so to see you get out of bed with the birds was a surprise.

"Who died?" He asked, dazed when he walked into the kitchen to you tidying the cabinets. Ringo was fixing his suit on his shoulders. The giggle contrasted the already tired look on your face.

"No one died, Richie." You stopped, putting down the products next to you on the counter you were sitting in, legs bouncing. "Just thought the place needed some cleaning."

"On a Friday morning? Seriously?" Voice filled with disbelief, Ringo didn't believe you for one minute. Crossing his arms as he made his way to you, he continued. "What has got into your head, love?" You giggled once more, relieved to see the little smile that appeared on his lips.

"You know, Rings," you answered with a sigh. Ringo knew how stressed you were about having your parents over even without you telling him about it.

He knew the stories from when you used to live with them. Though he didn't enjoy saying it, he thought your parents were awful and mistreated you, creating a bunch of traumas you carry to this day. And oh, how Ringo cursed the hell out of them for it. That was partially one of the reasons it took so long for him to meet them. He was aware they wouldn't like him or his lifestyle at all, and he didn't like the idea of meeting the people that put you through so much misery. You were okay with it as you also didn't exactly fancy the idea, always telling them Ringo had a busy schedule and couldn't make it - yet now he didn't, and thanks to the papers, they knew about it.

Throughout January, Ringo would be making a new record with The Beatles for their new documentary directed by Michael Lindsay-Hogg - and he would also start filming a new movie next month. You two believed it was the best idea to do it that Friday since the band was still in the first days of recording and didn't have much done yet. So you told your parents it was okay for them to visit on the 10th.

"C'mon, love. You know your parents aren't going to like any of this anyways," the boy moved his hands to hold yours. Ringo kissed your knuckles, staring at you longingly. "This week's been rough at Twickenham. Can't we postpone it?" He carried on with the pecks on your hands, moving up your arms.

"If we postpone it one more time, I think my mother will straight-up yell at me over the phone," you laughed nervously. You comprehended how tired Ritchie was - the whole relationship between the lads was crumbling right before their eyes. Ringo usually had the peacemaker role, trying to make it work even with the tension around them. But that was until the White Album's sessions a few months before. He felt so isolated and disconnected from the others so he left the group, coming back after a couple of days. Ringo was a chill and easy-going guy, and the mediator role was still his, yet things were different. It looked like he had to navigate Paul and John downplaying George's ideas and contributions. They were treating Ringo a little nicer since he walked out during the sessions of their previous record, yet, George's work was still neglected and put down. The man was treated like a younger brother with little to no knowledge - and that pissed Ringo off.

The blue-eyed man smiled lightly at you, his hands covered with expensive rings moving to caress your face. He was tired. The bags under his eyes made it way more evident. "Don't want that happening," Ringo erupted his soft giggle, you joining in. "Have a good day at work, darling," he said with a kiss on your forehead.

"You too, Ritchie," you whispered back as you stroked his hair, Ringo's eyes shut for a moment. "Blow their minds, love." That made him beam like a little kid, and you knew that smirk too well.

"I'm only planning on blowing you, pretty thing," he winked, and you laughed, a tint of pink in your cheeks. Ringo connected your lips, holding your face tightly as you two kissed for the first time that day. He enjoyed taking his time to kiss you properly and to make you feel all mushy inside. If there was one thing Ringo certainly wanted was for you to be happy - all the time, for clarification. Once he was standing by the door, keys in hand, the drummer smiled at you again. "See you later then, baby. Love you."

"Love you too," you blew him a kiss, and after capturing it in the air, Ringo left.

Before it was time for you to catch the bus for work, you had cleaned the kitchen and the living room. Even though it was unnecessary, it was good for your mind to be at ease during the day at the office. Your nerves were in control, thank God, but you had a feeling something was wrong. You couldn't point out what it was, but you felt it once you came back from your lunch break. Something was off, and it was frustrating.

Did something happen to your parents? To Ringo? Did someone actually die? Have you done something wrong? Was one of your friends in danger? Did you forget something? You thought it through a lot as you did your tasks for the day, and no answer came. Not a sign from God. No light at all.

Your guts were telling you a piece of information you couldn't understand, and that had your mind spiralling. Out of your intuition, you silently wished and prayed Ringo was okay. Your heart was tight in your chest as the time to leave the office reached. You tried to shake it off, thinking it was probably nothing.

Back to your shared apartment, you took a shower and began getting dressed up for the evening. A sweet baby-blue dress down to your calf paired with black heels and soft makeup. After putting on Ritchie's favourite perfume of yours, you moved to the kitchen. You started cooking the meal for the unfortunate event, pasta with pesto sauce.

The table was ready since the morning, as you did so to make things easier once you got home. You took that as an opportunity to put the crystals and glasses on the dining table, choosing a wine Ringo liked to accompany the evening. Your insecurities were high, and the unsettling feeling didn't wash off, but you were making a good impression that you had your shit together.

Yet, the glass of wine in your hand could argue otherwise. You were a bit tipsy when the doorbell rang. Putting everything on a minimum level on the stove, you breathed in and out before opening the door.

"Hi," was what managed to get out of your mouth, an embarrassed expression on your face.

"Is that all you have to say, (y/n)?" Your mother said with an arrogant tone, eyebrows up, pushing herself into the apartment, your father following suit. You closed the door, shutting your eyes for a few seconds to get you on your feet.

"What do you mean, mom?" You moved to put on a record to have a distraction, to avoid making it so weird and aggressive. After putting on Out Of Our Heads by The Rolling Stones, you noticed your mother's hands on her hips and already disapproving look as she stared at you. Your father was checking the portraits on the walls. "Do you want something to drink?" You walked back to the kitchen, hearing her high pitched heels following you.

"I'll want you that wine of yours, sweetheart," your father said mindlessly from the living room. Turning the stove off, you filled him a glass. He thanked you with a nod, not even looking at you.

You took a long sip of your drink, moving to put the meal on a casserole set at the centre of the table. Your mother still was following you, sitting in front of you at the table. "You ran away, (y/n). All for that-" she cut herself, thinking of what to say. "That drummer boy."

Chewing the insides of your cheeks, you responded. "No, mother. I left so I could live a life of my own. Ringo was out of the country at the time, but you don't remember that," and it was true. Ringo was in the USA for their American tour, and your mother knew it very well since she was the one that got the letters from the postman every time. Your voice showed how the subject wasn't your favourite.

"Don't act all smart, missy!" You had to control the urge to roll your eyes. "We did everything for you, you ungrateful brat! You-"

The front door cut off the discussion. Ringo was home, and by the strong smell of cigarettes and his pained expression, your instincts were right. Something had happened. You saw the old woman shrink at the smell from the corner of your eye. You gulped down harshly.

"Good evenin', folks," Ringo tried to speak with an excited voice, yet it sounded annoyed. He smiled tiredly at you, strolling to sit beside you. Interested now, your father came to sit next to your mother. "Hi, love," he muttered and pecked your lips.

"When did you meet my daughter, Mr Starkey?" Of course, your mother would treat him like this. Your hand went to hold his under the table.

"It was in 1964," Ringo squeezed your hand and began making himself a plate. "She looked out worldly, so I tried to start a conversation." He beamed fondly at you, your face reddening. "You have a lovely daughter, miss. But I think you already know that."

"She'd be a better one if she walked the line." She was stern, eating bitterly. You bit your lower lip nervously, thinking you taste blood.

"But can you blame her, though?" Ringo's eyebrows were upon his forehead, hand going back to hold yours.

"I'm sorry?"

"Everyone deserves to live their lives, be happy," you clutched his hand with everything in you. "Unfortunately for you, (y/n) needed to get out and live by herself." Ringo continued to eat like nothing was going on.

The woman was too stunned to speak, sharing looks with her husband, who just shrugged his shoulders in response. She cleared her throat before speaking again.

"Richard," you held in a chuckle. It amazed you how she couldn't even call him by his nickname. "Do you have any plans for when this Beatle thing ends?" That seemed to send him over the edge. Ringo emitted a nasty short laugh, his hold in your hand stronger. The man's face was twisting in anger.

"A few, yeah. We're getting married, for starters." Sensing your wide-eyed gaze, Ringo stroked your hand gently. He was asking you to marry him - more like telling you, frankly - in front of your parents? You were amazed.

"You were going to marry this man without me even meeting him?" Your mother was once again astonished, while your father just looked disgusted.

"Well, miss," he cackled dryly, "now you know me," Ringo said with a sly smile, sipping the wine. It was funny to see how your mother couldn't close her mouth, utterly shocked.

After that, the dinner went silently. The Rolling Stones' record had stopped long before your parents got up to leave, thanking you for the meal and for inviting them. Locking the door and slipping out of your heels, you turned to Ringo. He was looking through your vinyl collection, eventually holding a copy of The Supremes' Reflections.

"So we are getting married now?" You crossed your arms, shoes in hand. Ringo smirked, putting the album on the victrola. He gestured for you to cuddle him on the couch. You laid on top of him, face in his chest.

"I wanted to piss your ma' off," he laughed, holding you close and kissing your hair. "But honestly, I'd love to."

"Me too," you responded after a while, running your fingers over his arm. He held even tighter, making you giggle. "And what happened? You look exhausted, honey," concern was wall over your voice. Ringo went quiet, stroking your hair.

"George left the band," he told you eventually. You noticed the sorrow in him. Looking up, you caught him crying silently. "I wish John and Paul wouldn't be so over themselves, you know?" You nodded, though you didn't know how they acted in those circumstances, yet you didn't doubt Ringo. It wasn't the first time the Lennon/McCartney duo made your boy feel like this, and it's poor enough to acknowledge there had been worse situations. Ringo's self-esteem wasn't the best, and there were times the boys didn't do much to help him, if not at all.

Stroking his cheeks and whipping the tears away, you planted soft kisses in his hands, trying to calm him down. "And do you want to talk to George, sweetie?" Your fingers moved to caress his scalp, smiling when Ritchie began purring like a little kitten.

"Yeah, of course," he purred as his face was now in the crock of your neck. "But for now, I'm going to cuddle you," he giggled against your skin, causing a wave of tingles up your spin. "And what do you say we get married?"

#ringo starr x reader #ringo starr imagine #richard starkey x reader #richard starkey imagine #ringo starr #richard starkey #the beatles #the beatles imagine #the beatles x reader #george harrison #paul mccartney #john lennon #ringo starr fanfic #the beatles oneshot #the beatles fanfic #the beatles fanfiction #george #beatles #paul #ringo #john

[beneathashadytree]

NIBBLES - JOHN LENNON X READER

Warnings : none, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : fluff

Word count : 0.6K words

Synopsis : He seems to quickly grow fond of the tiny kitten.

Requests : Are open! Check the rules over here.

Masterlist

With some difficulty, I managed to twist the door knob and open the door to our flat, which creaked a bit and reminded me that it needed oiling.

Balancing the door with my foot, the little ball of fur in my arms snuggled deeper in the crook of my elbow, leaving me cooing at its adorableness.

"You're quite the cutie, aren't you?" I spoke in a hushed baby's voice, kicking the door with my foot so as to shut it behind me as I began to walk up to John's reclined figure near the window.

The little black kitten only meowed shyly, rubbing its face against my arm and causing me to giggle a bit, which was only spurred on by the sight of John beginning to whistle an unfamiliar tune.

No matter what that man said, he really could never sit completely still without creating any form of music. Humming, whistling, tapping his fingers and feet, whatever it was, he managed to create a symphony of his own with his body.

With a grin on my face, I slowly padded over to his limp form, with the kitten's tail brushing along my arm and quivering a bit in anticipation as it scampered to hide under my shirt. Meanwhile, my lover turned his head to me, his amber irises meeting mine in a smile, crow's feet appearing at the side of his eyes.

"You're back early," he said happily, extending his arm so he could lazily touch my thigh, which was the nearest body part he could touch, "Wouldn't complain one bit, but that's not the usual."

"I finished much earlier, and decided to go treat myself to a small gift," I shrugged, the smile threatening to break out again, "Thought you'd like to see it too."

Almost as if it were rehearsed, the little ball of fur chose that moment to meowl meekly and pop out of my v-neck, falling like a tumbleweed onto John's chest, with no more than a small thump, while his eyes comically went wide like saucers.

A nervous mew escaped the shivering kitten as he helplessly stood rigidly still, doing nothing but glancing at me in exasperation then proceeding to eye the tabby warily. Slowly, tentatively, a veined hand rose to pat her small back, earning yet another soft meow that seemed to express the satisfaction she felt.

Taking that as a green light, he let a half-smile grace his now-less-stressed face, as a bony finger brushed back her glimmering hair between her ears and to her nose.

Purring a little greedily, she pushed against his skin, and he couldn't help the chuckle that airily escaped his lips, limbs slightly unfolding as he sat half-upright, the kitten holding onto him for dear life as he did so.

"She's quite the cuddler," he pointed out in a sweet voice, carrying her in his arms momentarily before letting her down on the floor to play with the ends of his pajama pants.

"Takes after her new daddy, doesn't she?" I playfully teased as he rolled his eyes in exasperation.

Taking a seat beside him, he let me curl up against his chest, much like our new pet had done just seconds ago, the only difference being him stroking my side deftly. As we watched her playing with the spare bit of string at the end of his pants, with melting hearts and joyous smiles on our faces, John turned to me.

"What'll we call her?"

I pondered it for a moment, as she chose that moment to chew at the red string.

"Nibbles," I giggled as she innocently peeked up at the mention of her new name, apparently taking a liking to it as she meowed, "It fits her."

"Nibbles it is."

#john lennon x reader #john lennon imagine #john lennon oneshot #john lennon #paul mccartney x reader #paul mccartney oneshot #paul mccartney imagine #paul mccartney #george harrison oneshot #george harrison x reader #george harrison imagine #george harrison #ringo starr x reader #ringo starr oneshot #ringo starr imagine #ringo starr #the beatles #classic rock #writer #fanfiction #oneshot #imagine #the beatles x reader #the beatles imagine #the beatles oneshot #60s #romance #domestic #fluff

[pauls-brocken-glass]

Random Pictures from John and Paul :3

#mclennon oneshot #beatles #mclennon+oneshot #brian epstein #starrison #mclennon #paul mccharmly #paul mccartney #george harrison #john lennon #ringo starr

[hxrnymxcca]

https://archiveofourown.org/works/36664645

New Oneshot up on AO3 now! I’m thinking of making it a two or three chapter story. Y’all think so?

#john lennon #paul mccartney #mclennon #the beatles #george harrison #ringo starr #mclennon fanfiction #ao3 #oneshot #new fic!!