#ringo starr fanfic
Note
Hi. If you don't mind, would you mind doing a song fic for Taylor Swift's coney island with either John or George? I just feel like it would work really well, especially these lines: "And do you miss the rogue who coaxed you into paradise and left you there? Will you forgive my soul when you're too wise to trust me and too old to care?"
I Want to Tell You
pairing: john lennon x gender neutral!reader
warnings: angst, depression, self image
author's note: first of all, sorry for going missing for a few months. kinda had a burnout with college and work, but things are getting better - i think, at least.
and i kind of changed this a little lol i know it's a sad song and i made it accordingly, but the end is sweet. i might not be a swiftie but i'm a softie
1966.
It was like living through hell. Why did he have to say that? you’d think every once in a while since the whole bigger than Jesus broke out. John has always been one to make interesting comments - not to say controversial. You knowing him since you met at art school, it didn’t faze you a bit, yet, it was a different thing in America.
“They’re so fucking upright. It’s so phony.” You sought John during one of the tours you went by his side, still his girlfriend, flesh and nail. Now, long married, it’s been a few good months since you last followed beside him. John was getting more distant everyday and you didn’t know what to do.
He emitted his loud and heartwarming laugh. “I know, right?” John escorted you close to his chest, his nose in your hair. “Americans act like we are a bunch of weirdos. We are… different,” John chuckled, free hand hovering his face. “They’re nice. I’m the freak.”
This happened only a year prior to this fiasco. On that occasion, you made it your job to assure John he was an important person to the band and no matter what happened, you’d still be by his side. So far, you had maintained your words and stuck with John - even though he wouldn’t even look at you.
It made you insecure and going back in your head, trying to piece together why he had become such a loner those last months. Without preparation, you began to revisit your time at college, when you two first started dating. You were younger by a few years, and John was living the high of his teddy boy lifestyle.
He was a heartthrob. There was no other way to describe it.
Every single time you glanced in his direction, John’s eyes were already staring you down. Smiling smugly, he’d shake his head and wiggle his eyebrows. You were left blushing. It was heaven, knowing you caught the attention of someone like him. Your heart could melt just by the sight of him.
At the time, you weren’t looking for a relationship. But John had other plans. He flirted with you every chance he got, always putting some innuendo into everything. Even though you rolled your eyes every single time, you couldn’t deny to yourself how your hands would shake whenever John stormed in your direction. Neither could you say he didn’t make winter feel like a sunny afternoon in spring, considering the speeding beat of your heart and the way he caught your breath.
The memories left you wondering if you had closed your fists around something delicate for this to be happening. The silent tears fell down and you didn’t try to avoid the unstoppable. It was getting overbearing just to breath. When you first met, you thought that maybe 一 you were certain, to be completely honest 一 he’d be the death of you. At the time, the idea brought colour to your cheeks, thinking it’d be because of his antics and how flustered he made you feel. Now, you had the sour taste of knowing why.
Marrying one of the most desired man on the earth, show stopping sensation and global phenomenon was incredibly hard. And the business changed John’s usual upbeat and sarcastic nature. Theses things were still there but he wouldn’t show them as much. It turned him into a depressed and lonely wolf. John was starting to head straight to bed whenever he came home, telling you less and less about his life and what he was going through in his head.
Yet, you had an idea of why that was.
The press were writing a bunch of articles about all the things he and the boys did and, unfortunately, that included his health. Suddenly every news reporter was a nutritionist and they decided John was getting fat, which was far from the truth. You noticed how John was starving himself for awhile because of it, his self image completely deteriorated and his depression coming to a new highlight low-end. But John wouldn't say a word. You’d ask him, almost plead for him to open up you, but John wouldn't say a word.
In front of the television, you watched him and the band make yet another appearance for an interview. It was difficult for you to admit, but most of the time you heard his voice these days was on the TV. John was pushing you away. After talking to George, Ringo and Paul about the situation, they assured you this wasn’t happening just to you. John was pushing everyone away, whether he knew it or not.
Seeing that happy grin in his face on the telly, a sight you missed dearly, was enough to make your walls crumble down. You sobbed violently, crying out loud. What happened to my baby? Where did my baby go? Your whole body shook and your voice got hoarse by the second. But the moment you heard a car pull into the driveway, you pushed it all back inside, cleaning the tears’ path and clearing your throat. Uptight and anxious, you waited.
“You watching that crap?” was the first thing he said. John closed the front door, dropping his keys in the coffee table and sitting beside you on the couch. He slid his arm around you, turning you slightly to kiss you with care. After it ended, you two maintained faces close, noses brushing against one another, eyes closed. It was moments like this that made you feel everything was worth putting through.
“Just watching this group fine young men. They dress pretty well, especially that one” you said, turning a little to the TV, just enough so he could see your index finger pointing in his direction on the screen.
John snickered. “Nah, he looks like a twat.”
You snuggled your face against his neck, eyes closed. “And how was today, pretty boy?” as you whispered the question you immediately regretted it. John’s body grew rigid, moving away from you. I can’t do anything right.
“Ah,” he shrugged his shoulders, face showing how John cringed at the question. “It was… normal, I guess.” He bit down his lip, drawing in a deep breath. Silence emerged between youc and you wanted to scream. With a sigh, John got up. “Well, I’m taking a shower.”
Before you could think the decision over once more, you were speaking already. “John, can I ask you a question?” He was midway walking to your shared bedroom, stopping in his tracks. John turned around, confused.
Eyebrows knitted and hands on his waist, he answered. “Yeah, sure you can.”
“Did I shatter you?” your voice quivered, just a little above a purr. You felt tears threatening to form but you didn’t care. You needed to get it off of your chest, it was killing you. John was startled by the inquiry, eyes wide.
“What makes you think that, love?” He still was by the bedroom, slowly coming back to you.
“You never talk to me anymore, John.” A sorry laugh left your lips as you said it, feeling like a lunatic. “And you used to come to me anytime if you were struggling, to have a laugh... Now you can barely stand to be next to me.” Your eyes flickered to the roof, holding back the emotions in turmoil. “You never ask about me anymore. It’s like you couldn’t give less of a shit sometimes,” you turned your focus back to him and it crashed your feelings. He was crying with a straight face, biting the inside of his cheek. “If this is the long haul, how’d we get here so soon?”
You managed to get a laugh from him, smiling a bit. After a few seconds, he spoke up. “Sorry for not making you my centerfold,” John pushed the tears away with the back of his hand. “I hate that we turned into this… all because of me,” now it was his turn to cackle like a mad man, hands in his hair.
“It’s okay, John.” You gave him a half-hearted smile.
“No! Of course it’s not, love.” He took a long breath and began tapping his foot against the floor. “You are my wife, for fuck’s sake. I love you and I pushed away? I’m a dick.” John was obviously mad at himself. “I didn’t think it would upset you this much, love. Fuck.”
“Baby…” you cooed, getting up from the couch. You tried to reach for his hands, but he shook them instead.
“Don’t ‘baby’ me. I don’t want your pity.”
“John,” you took hold of his hand, your hold strong and tight. “Shut up. You’ve been through a lot and it’s okay to react like this. But you should be more aware of the fact that there are people that care and worry about you.” You pushed his fringe to the side with your free hand, resting it against his wet cheek. John closed his eyes. “You are not a bad guy, John. Just fucking stupid sometimes,” both of you laughed.
“What’s a lifetime of achievement if I pushed you to the edge but you were too polite to leave me?” You cringed at that, not agreeing with him.
“I would never leave you, sweetheart. I love you too much,” you said, laughing a little. “Just don’t push me away anymore. I’m always here for you.”
“Sorry for being fucking stupid.”
#john lennon x reader#john lennon imagine#john lennon fanfic#john lennon fanfiction#beatles imagine#beatles fanfic#beatles x reader#ringo starr x reader#ringo starr imagine#ringo starr fanfic#paul mccartney x reader#paul mccartney imagine#paul mccartney fanfic#george harrison x reader#george harrison imagine#george harrison fanfic#the beatles fanfic#the beatles imagine#the beatles fanfiction#the beatles x reader
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The Beatles in front of their less than glorious cartoon likeness!
#fanfiction#the beatles#fanfic#ringo starr#george harrison#john lennon#paul mccartney#ao3 fanfiction#ao3 link#ao3 beatles#john paul george and ringo#1960s#the beatles fanfiction
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"Dreams" in Lennon/McCartney Music
Paul's Premonition//John Lennon Quote//However Absurd, Paul McCartney//Things We Said Today, Lennon/McCartney//Strawberry Fields Forever, Lennon/McCartney//Child of Nature, John Lennon//John Lennon Quote//I Say It Just To Reach You interview//Get Back//Borrowed Time, John Lennon//God, John Lennon//Best Friend, Paul McCartney//#9 Dream, John Lennon//The Lovers That Never Were, Paul McCartney//On My Way To Work, Paul McCartney
#the beatles#paul mccartney#john lennon#mclennon#george harrison#ringo starr#beatles#love#mclennon ao3#mclennon fanart#now and then#john and paul#j/p#mclennon fanfic#mclennon fanfiction#mclennon dreams
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Great picture of the Beatles!
#the beatles#ao3 fanfic#ao3 beatles#ao3 fanfiction#george harrison#paul mccartney#ringo starr#john lennon#starrison#b&w aesthetic#b&w photography#b&w sexy
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Ringo with his beautiful wife, Barbara!
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My Heart Went Boom (or how The Beatles would react to an s/o who loves their heartbeat)
(Image source is I honestly don't know, I found it on Pinterest- if you know the source, lemme know and I'll add it c: )
This is my first attempt at writing something for all four Beatles (I usually just write Paul ;A;) so please bear with me (and let me know if I've messed up someone's personality) c: also this was written by me specifically for me so it's incredibly niche and I'm honestly only posting in case someone else wants it lol (I'm sorry if it's super weird)
John:
John is a little shit
Anyway
He knows about your habit but refuses to tell you he knows, instead opting to aggravate the shit out of you in the most loving way possible
Most days, he'd come home, out of breath from outrunning fans and reporters, but still with a cheeky smile about his face
"Oh, my little birdie, my heart is beating so fast! Come listen?~"
You'd turn bright red bc how the fuck does he know about that
The day would pass with no other mention of it until you're lying in bed together
"You know I love you, Y/N" he says it almost like an apology
"I know, Johnny"
Paul:
Paul noticed you had a habit of lying on top of him, particularly on days when you were sad
It wasn't until he realized you also tapped his arm in a particular rhythm that he realized exactly what you were doing
After that, he'd make a note to always ask if you were okay or needed anything and to take some deep breaths to slow down his heart rate
Sometimes, if he senses that you're upset but you're not lying on top of him, he'll say, "Come listen to my heart?" (You never felt the need to verbally confess to him, as you had an unspoken understanding)
One time, his mouth got ahead of his brain, and out came, "Come listen, my heart?"
And thus, a new nickname was born
At some point, "my heart" becomes "mon coeur"
Sometimes, he'll ask completely in French and it makes your own heart flutter
George:
With George, it began as morbid curiosity
After all, he's such a skinny thing, if you look closely enough at any of his pulse points, you can see the rhythm
At some point, it turned into a comfort thing, knowing his heart beats only for you, even if it does sound like a bird fluttering half the time
One day, you're lying on the couch, watching the telly, head on his chest
"Are ye listenin' to my heart, Y/N?"
You blush at first, caught completely off-guard, but manage to say, "Yes"
He asks why and you explain
He's silent at first, not knowing what to think, but then his mouth turns up in a smile and his chest puffs with pride
It makes him feel strong knowing you feel comfort in him
Ringo:
You'd had the habit of listening to Ringo for a while, even before you started dating
You'd relish in the moments where you'd simply have a "friend cuddle", as the two of you called them, as you'd press your ear gently above his heart, hoping he wouldn't notice the ever-so delicate touch on his chest
After he'd gotten tonsillitis, though, your habit increased
He was oblivious, thinking you just wanted to hug or cuddle, but for you, it was almost like you needed to hear him to make sure he was alive and well
Sometimes, you'd find yourself pressed against him in the middle of the night, the spaces between beats agonizingly slow (even if it was an average 75 bpm)
At some point, he finally catches on. "Y/N, you know I'm alright now, right?"
You sigh. "I know, Ritchie, it's just-"
He'd cut you off by holding you tight and whispering reassurances in your ear
#mine#john lennon#paul mccartney#george harrison#ringo starr#the beatles#the beatles fanfiction#beatles x reader#beatles imagine#beatles imagines#john lennon x reader#paul mccartney x reader#george harrison x reader#ringo starr x reader#this is my official apology to the entirety of beatles tumblr#this has been in my brain for two weeks#vivi in the sky with fanfics#^^official fanfic tag
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There are new members of The Beatles fandom and I wanted to share a valuable resource that was curated from the remains of the old LiveJournal platform:
This library of Fanfiction has been a blessing! Created by @chut-je-dors , there are fics on here that are many years old. Written by fandom elders past.
Perhaps you are aware of this archive, if not, reblog to share with everyone. The holidays are a time of giving. What better way to give than the gift of ‘J&P’ smut 😈
Enjoy, ya’ filthy animals!!!
#the beatles#john lennon#paul mccartney#j&p#mclennon#iconic j&p fics#the beatles fanfiction#mclennon fic recs#j&p archive#classic mclennon fanfics#early beatles#baby beatles#george harrison#ringo starr#happy holidays#share the love#give the gift of smut
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Omg, hi! I just wanted to drop in and say hey and that I love love love your writing so much! You are one of my favorite class rock writers in Tumblr ❤️ Please keep it up!
Also, I was wondering if you could maybe write something smutty with John on the set of A Hard Day's Night or something? You don't have to though! I just love your John writing so much, it's my favorite :)
'You know I feel alright'
London, '64
Word count: 1030
Tags: Jealousy, Semi-Public Sex, Fluff, Angst
The filming had ended.
Her role was small, of course it was. This didn't mean it wasn't exciting though - dancing in the background with the boys, it was good fun.
"Well, if it isn't our leading lady," Paul remarked, a smirk on his face.
John rolled his eyes at the comment, she couldn't tell if the action was sarcastic or not.
She looked away from Paul coyly, "Oh, Paul, not quite. I'm just in the background, you know."
"Background or wherever, you steal the scene."
Paul was a bit too sweet with her sometimes, though it was all in jest, she hoped.
John observed Paul's flirts from a distance, it made him feel awfully bitter.
"Spare her the theatrics, Macca." John murmured.
Paul was undeterred, he shot John a smirk before being whisked away by a random assistant.
She turned toward John. He stood there still, a clear annoyance etched on his face.
"Finally got rid of that distraction, didn't we?" John said.
She sighed, recognising the tension.
"John, it's not like that. Paul's just having a bit of fun."
John crossed his arms, skepticism evident in his expression.
"Fun, eh? Fun? Fun flirting? With my girl?"
She reassured him, "It's just banter, John. Nothing serious."
He scoffed, a cynical look in his eyes.
She decided to change track, as she didn't want him being mad at her.
"Did you watch me dancing, John?" She teased, hugging his waist, looking up at him.
"Yeah, you looked like a right whore." John muttered.
He hugged her back just as tightly. The proximity heightened, their closeness bordered on the edge of him almost kissing her.
John's eyes gleamed with a mischievous glint as he suggested, "How about we sneak off somewhere? Somewhere quiet, just you and me."
She quirked an eyebrow, pretending to act like she didn't get his innuendo.
"Where are you thinking?"
"A secret place, love."
Without further explanation, he yanked her hand and led her away, leaving behind the noise and commotion and Paul, heading towards a moment of privacy.
"A broom closet?" She exclaimed.
John shoved her into it, quickly switching on the dim light. He silenced any protest with a rough, wet kiss - he had no room for objections. John pinned her into a cluttered corner, his hands promptly moved up underneath her skirt, groping her bottom.
He groaned against her mouth, he knew he had her.
She pushed him back slightly, giving herself a chance to breathe after his sudden moves.
After a few breaths John pressed forward again, his hands fiddled with the zipper of her skirt. But then he gave up on the zipper and just decided he'd pull her tights down.
John tugged his belt off, he let his pants and his boxers fall down to his ankles. He rubbed himself off a bit.
There was nothing to lie her on, apart from the floor and John didn't fancy fucking her on the floor so he prompted her to jump, jump so he could fuck her standing up.
With a gasp, she leaped into his arms, wrapping her legs around his waist. With one hand on the small of her back and the other gripping her hip, he lifted her against the wall. His finger traced the lace edge of her panties before pulling it to the side, teasing her entrance with the tip of his hard cock.
She put her arms around his neck for stability, her fingers tangling in his hair. His lips moved against her neck, leaving a trail of warm, wet kisses that made her shiver with desire.
He gripped her hips and lifted her up and down, his thrusts started hitting just the right spot inside her. She arched her back in response, matching his movements with perfect timing. The light sound of skin hitting skin echoed through the room as he moved harder.
"Yes, yes, yes..." she gasped out between breaths.
As the waves of pleasure coursed through her body, her legs began to shake and her grip on him weakened. She could feel her climax building and subsiding in quick succession, just as he thrusted. Her fingers barely clung to him.
John moved his hands to grip her waist firmly, guiding her body back and forth in rhythm with him. The force of his movements was intense. His manhood pulsed inside of her, the throbbing sensation was going to finish him. He let out a groan as he lost himself in her, he could barely say her name.
John pressed her against the wall so she hugged her own body closer to his.
He whimpered and his breath quickened as they moved together, their bodies desperate to be intimately intertwined.
John's last few thrusts were fervent, each one driving them both to cumming. She shivered, her cunt clenched tightly around him as they reached their peak together.
John released himself inside of her.
She could feel his entire body tense before they became a tangled mess on the floor.
John seemed disillusioned. She was giggling at the thought of what they just did, it was purely filthy.
John reached down to his ankles and tugged up his pants, he struggled to get the belt buckled. She gracefully pulled on her tights and when she finally stood up, smoothed out her skirt.
They caught each other's eye and burst into laughter, their cheeks flushed and hair messy. They tried to regain composure, though they knew it had been lost the moment they stepped foot in the closet.
"Oh, Y/N, there's something different about you." John said.
"Oh." She replied, nervously.
"Is that a compliment, John?"
He smirked.
"Take it however you want, love. Just know that I want you all to myself."
He placed her head on his chest. She rested against him, a short pause settled in.
She felt a mix of emotions, though the dominant one was longing, it was sickly.
"I'm here, aren't I?"
He leaned in for a soft kiss and she accepted it.
"You are here," he mumbled against your lips, "and I wanna keep you close."
"How close?"
"As close as us shagging in a bloody broom closet."
#the beatles#60s rock#the beatles imagine#the beatles smuts#john lennon#paul mccartney#vintage#the beatles x reader#spotify#john lennon x reader#ringo starr#george harrison#paul mccartney imagine#classic rock#fiction#the beatles fanfiction#paul mccartney x reader#fanfic
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George Chapter of the Day. March 13, 2024
Greetings my dear tumblr and Beatles' families! Happy to announce I'm popping a foot into the fanfiction pool and seeing 👀 what happens. Your comments are more than welcome!!
All the important stuff:
Title: I Saw Her Standing There
Story Description: John, Paul, George and Ringo meet Joie Armagh, a strong willed American girl, who influences their lives more than they wanted.
Trigger Warnings: swearing, drinking, smoking, drug references, adult situations and behavior, M/F smut, fluff, falling in love, tense arguments, angst.
**18 only please***
**This is a work of fiction. As such, it should not be read as a factual account of events or as biography. While many characters of the story bear the names of actual people, they and their actions have been imagined by the author and should be considered products of the imagination. This story is fictional and the events did not happen. It is written and re-produced here online for the purposes of entertainment only.**
Author's Note: I've noticed many fanfics have a Starrison or a McLennon flair, but this story will be M/F interactions including smut. It's just how I see them! Now if you're under 18, just move yourself right along. As I'm not there to patrol over you, just be strong and pass this up. I had to wait to read adult material and so do you!
Thank you to gif artists and photo owners.
Phew! That's over....
She was across the room from him; he could barely see her without his thick, black rimmed glasses. He felt her. Felt her as if she were standing within inches of him. His skin was hot. The light brown hair on his arms came alive – his stomach grumbled with a feral intensity.
Chapter 1
There was something about her. Something, he figured, she didn't know about yet, something she didn't know how to use – yet – but it made John Winston Lennon rearrange his slumped body to a nearly half-attentive position.
John watched her as best he could without his glasses. He was nearly blind without them, but acknowledged only to himself that he was far too vain to wear them in public. Besides, if he had to see something that important, Paul, George or Ringo would alert him. But at this moment, they were too interested in their own orbits to notice much.
She was talking to someone. Someone he didn't know – which he didn't care much about. From her body language, he could tell it was tense. She ran a hand through her short, auburn hair, and he continued to watch as she pointedly aggravated the man she was talking to.
This, to John, was great entertainment.
She turned in John's direction, although he couldn't tell if she saw him or not. It was nice she wasn't straining to scope out a look at the four of them , like they were the side-show freaks they felt like – or make a mad dash for the table to try to touch him like he was some bloody good luck charm. He liked that. Maybe she didn't give a shit who they were. THAT, he nodded to himself, would be refreshing for a fucking change.
She was, however, very pissed off at the little runt who was running the audition and had he been asked, John would have agreed with her. The whole scene was outrageously idiotic, as were their whole lives now, but he had danced with the devil and this was payback time.
The little moron in charge, whom John was introduced to but couldn't have cared less about, was a highly paid ass-kisser with a slimy handshake and badly manipulated crew cut. John might have the appearance of someone who didn't give a shit, but he took in everything. Every person, every nuance, every sight and smell and sound. Nothing got past him, unless he wanted it to. And the little California-tanned wild bird was giving it to the little pisser and John couldn't take his eyes away from her. It made him jealous and angry and aroused that she could do what he wasn't allowed to.
Brian was about to intervene, as the pisser/wild bird barney was holding up the whole show. He wanted to tell Brian to leave her alone, that she was practically giving him a hand job from across the room, but he also had an immediate urge to get the hell out of this place. He didn't like the United States. Too much fucking sunshine and not a decent cup of tea within 10,000 miles. But, as was his current circumstance, money, the promise of women and fame had too much a hold on all four of them for anyone to say "piss off" and head back home to England. Because as sure as the sun rose in the east, if one went home, they'd ALL go home.
John watched as Brian interrupted the moron and the woman of his dreams. He threw an elbow into Paul's side to wordlessly alert him to the situation. Paul lifted up his brown eyes and tried to force a smile.
"Another one?"
"No man. Totally different. She's cutting that audition manager a new asshole."
"Good. Maybe we can get the fuck out of here. I'm beginning to think I made a wrong move when I chose a band over plumber's apprentice."
John looked at Paul. "You? A plumber? I'd pay to see your ass rooting out some loo in the low rent district."
"Piss off....," he answered. "So what's going on?"
John filled him in. Ringo and George were both still half asleep, cigarettes hanging off their lower lips. No one made any attempt to pay attention when their manager approached them.
"Get those bloody fags out of your mouths," Brian said to them. "You are all clean cut, working class boys from across the pond – and well paid to act your parts. So sit up and pay attention."
John made an obscene gesture. Ringo turned his back to him continuing to smoke and George leaned forward and gazed at Brian with his middle finger slowly working its way up to his temple.
Paul, ever the diplomat, made a valiant attempt to appear slightly more involved. "Look Brian, we aren't trying to make your life hell, but this is getting out of hand. We've spent 2 hours evaluating 200 girls who want to have a role in this movie. Really, it doesn't matter. We don't even know what the movie is about. Just have that little audition manager pick out the best of the bunch and send everyone on their way."
Brian sighed and pulled up a chair. John knew they were about to be lectured from the Brian Epstein Guide to Managing a Famous British Band. John wished he could order about a dozen Scotch and Cokes and call it a day.
"Boys," he started.
Ringo, George and John turned the switches off and began cruising down the avenues of their brains. Paul pretended to listen and caught the gist of the whole thing.
They were famous. Yes, he remembered that. There were politics involved in being famous. Yes, he remembered that. It was sometimes necessary to go through these things for the publicity. Yes, he remembered that.
"Just like a politician. You have to, figuratively speaking, kiss the babies and hug the old ladies. Half these girls are daughters of Hollywood big-wigs. We can't piss them off. We must pretend we are gentlemen."
"Thank God we've had lessons...." John piped in. "Now shut the hell up and tell me who that bird is."
"Who?"
"The one who is still going off on the audition manager."
Brian turned and jumped up. "Oh shit."
John sat totally upright for the first time all day as he saw her coming towards them at a determined gait. The audition manager followed her, mumbling.
Brian was about to intercept her when John looked at him sternly. "Back off, big man. Let her have her say."
If there was one thing Brian knew, it was when to absolutely listen to John. He could manipulate the other three on an individual basis, but John alone or the 4 of them enmasse, well, that was the ballgame. He let out a heavy breath.
John stood to watch her walk towards them. He had seen plenty of pretty girls since becoming famous. He had HAD plenty of pretty girls since becoming famous, but this pissed off bird was in a class by herself. She was nothing like the girls he normally went after – nothing like the birds of his own turf. He was, at this stage of his life, attracted to "bee-bees", Beautiful, Brainless and Sexy chicks who knew better than to open their mouths for anything except a blow-job. After a brief affair consisting of plenty of sex and perhaps a late night supper or two, maybe an autograph or an album, it was less of a problem to diplomatically dump a BB than it was a hometown girl or some mate's sister.
John had his exit line and delivered it with the precision of Olivier playing Hamlet. He could conjure up this little boy lost persona, with a pained "this is going to hurt me more than it is you" look and begin his speech. "I'm SOOO sorry, but I've realized that I really DO love my wife and I don't know how to thank you for helping me see the honest truth. I have to go back to her. Your unselfishness and honesty showed me what I must do. I know you'll understand. I can't tell you what you have done for me. I will never forget you (insert name or not). "
And it worked. 99% of the time. The other 1%, Brian took care of.
All at once, she was in front of them. Directly in between Paul and George. John shifted in his chair to look at her.
"Look, I know this is all fun and games, but it's 95 degrees out there in the hallway and girls are dropping like flies. There's no water, no air. C'mon---hasn't everyone had enough?"
Brian walked over to her and extended a courtly British hand. "I'm sorry Ms. but you will have to get back into line or leave the audition. You are causing a disruption."
The young woman looked at Brian then beseechingly at the four English lads that were sitting before her. John, for once in his life, was speechless.
Paul stood and faced her. "We didn't know..." was all he could muster. She was not amused. Not amused at all with any of them. George turned his eyes toward her and remained quiet.
"Well, now you do," she said without emotion, then sighed. "Look, I know you are the biggest things to come out of England since Earl Grey, but it's really hot out there. Can you put an end to this?"
George finally spoke. "What are you doing here?"
Her brown eyes flashed at him. "Does it matter? I'm just trying to get those other girls out of the heat."
"Why do you care?" John blurted out, his cigarette smoke exiting his mouth.
She sighed and was going to speak when Brian returned with a police officer and the audition manager.
"Hold off...." John eyed him.
The police officer stared at the woman for a minute before saying, "Joie?"
She looked at him and smiled. "Yes. It's me. I'm just trying to get those girls out of the heat, Mr. Watson. Or get them some water or something. I know they are all probably daughters of movie studios, but they are melting just the same."
Officer Watson turned to Brian. "I know this girl. She doesn't mean any harm. And after all, she has a point...."
John and Brian exchanged looks. Brian knew it well.
"We will get the girls out of the heat and move this along...." He answered properly.
"Thank you." Was all she said. And she turned to leave.
She didn't give a shit that they were the Beatles. She didn't give a shit if she got a bit part in their first movie. She just didn't give a shit about them. What she cared about was 90 remaining strangers, struggling in the heat.
John was enamored.
The audition manager was sweating profusely. He was too old for this shit. He had been around the greats---Barrymore, Hepburn, Gable. These punks from somewhere in England might make every girl wet her pants, but all they were was trouble to him.
Brian pulled him aside and a plan was made to move the line of girls along so they could get a look at the Lads from Liverpool and Brian would pick the 15 or so they needed in bit parts. The others would be given a ticket to the final concert in the film. All Brian knew for sure is that there was going to be a concert at the end. And 100 seats were to be occupied by the offspring of Hollywood elites. The other seats were to be auctioned off to fans through the fan club.
This is what he knew....as the screenwriter typed away, tucked safely back in London.
"Mal...." John groused at their assistant. "get her number....."
#the beatles#george harrison#john lennon#paul mccartney#ringo starr#beatlemania#Beatles fanfic#george harrison fanfic#i saw her standing there
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Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da: The Beatles X Reader Chapter Index
Summary: A young girl meets present-day Paul McCartney who sends her back in time to save the Beatles.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22: The Ringo Ending
Chapter 23: The George Ending
Chapter 24: The John Ending
Chapter 25: The Paul Ending
#paul mccartney#paul mccartney x reader#george harrison#george harrison x reader#john lennon#john lennon x reader#ringo starkey#ringo starkey x reader#ringo starr#ringo starr x reader#the beatles#beatles fic#fanfic#beatles fanfiction#beatles fandom#time travel#cross posted on ao3#wattpad
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A’int no mountain high enough
PAIRING: Ringo Starr x Fem!reader
TW: horrible writing, fluff, no mature themes
Inspired by one of my favourite songs <3
TIME SET: 1968
————————————————————
“Richie!” You called out. You worked late at the office, and usually come home around 6:30, and Ringo is usually back by that time. You set down your purse and hung your coat on the coat hook near the door. “Rings?” Yet again, no reply. You decided to do some investigating, since this isn’t like him at all. He’s the type of guy to run up from his spot, hug you, and give you a huge sloppy kiss on your pretty (s/c) cheek. You walked to the kitchen and into the living room of your shared flat. There, was your beloved boyfriend, sitting on the shaggy carpeted floor, magazines and news papers galore spread out in front of him. They were all flipped to one page. One with his picture on it. You went into mothering mode, bending down beside him. “What’s wrong, baby?” You cooed into his ear. He looked up. Ringo looked absolutely heartbroken. Your soft (e/c) eyes drifted to the many articles laid out. You picked one up gingerly, and skimmed the 3 paragraphs quickly. It was pointing out all his flaws, how he was ugly, etc. Rage filled you, sitting down next to him and peeled his hands off his face. He looked as if he was crying. His bright blue eyes now seemed sad, and his cheeks and nose were a bright red. You wiped a few stray tears with the pad of your thumb. “These articles are not true.”You stated, throwing it down. “My love, I told you not to read them, and my god, how did you get so many?” He didn’t answer. “Love?” Ringo whispered. “Is my nose really that big? Or is my smile funny? Or are my eyes droopy?” He fired questions. Your eyes softened. “Why, of course not, Rings. You are perfect. Well, perfect enough for me.” She smiled. “Do you love me?” He asked, his voice cracking. “Love, if I didn’t love you this much, I wouldn’t have stayed around for this long. I love you to the moon and back too many times to count.” You giggled, kissing his nose. “I love this nose, and this smile,” she whispered, running her thumb along his bottom lip before kissing his lips for a good second, then breaking for air. “I know what will make you feel better..” you got up and walked towards the record player, your red checkered dress swaying as you did so. You ran your finger over the ridiculously huge record collection, before stopping on a yellow one, ‘United’ by Marvin Gayne and Tammi Terrell. Sliding over to the record player, you set it down onto the machine, and put down the needle, the audio crackling a bit before a familiar melody started to fill the room.
Listen baby..
Ain’t no mountain high
Ain’t no valley low
It was the first song Ringo had asked you to dance on that night, and the same night you were sure to have fallen head over heels for this very man. He jumped up and grabbing your hand, and swayed along with you, occasionally spinning and twirling you around the room, doing silly dance moves, making silly faces, and both of your faces hurt from smiling so much. You both started to sing the chorus together, a perfect sound filling the room.
“‘Cause baby there ain’t no mountain high enough, ain’t no valley low enough, ain’t no river wide enough, to keep me from getting to you, baby.”
#ringo starr#richard starkey#ringo starr x reader#the beatles x reader#fanfic#i love them#the beatles#paul mccartney#john lennon#george harrison
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#mcstarr#paulmccartney#ringo#ringo starr#ringostarr#cute af#so cute#fanfiction#the beatles#fanfic#paul mccartney#ao3 fanfiction#ao3 link#ao3 beatles
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Paul McCartney every time he writes a song
#the beatles#mclennon#john lennon#paul mccartney#george harrison#ringo starr#beatles#mccartney#our flag means death#our flag means gay#our flag means fanfic#our flag means fanart#ofmd season 2#taika waititi
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The Beatles! George is a little hard to see bc of John's hand. But a good view of Brian Epstein!
#the beatles#ao3 fanfic#ao3 beatles#ao3 fanfiction#george harrison#paul mccartney#ringo starr#john lennon#brian epstein
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A really cute picture of the four of them!!!
The Beatles!
#the beatles#ao3 fanfic#ao3 beatles#ao3 fanfiction#george harrison#paul mccartney#ringo starr#john lennon#b&w aesthetic#b&w sexy#b&w photography#cute af#so cute
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Say The Word (the Beatles say 'I love you' for the first time)
(Source)
Good afternoon to everyone except me, who cannot write to save my life. I came up with this idea randomly after laughing at a sign that said "puzzels", I will not elaborate. I am also listsning to "Girl" as I write this, so I am feeling ✨️something✨️ lol. Enjoy!
John
John Lennon, loud and boisterous as he may be, is very reserved about some things
The phrase "I love you" is one of them
You absolutely said it to him first
Every time you say it, he simply smiles and chuckles a bit
After a while, you stop saying it because you don't want to make him uncomfortable
That's when he realizes he loves you
He takes about a week and a half to work up the courage and wrestle with his thoughts before
"Birdie?" You hum a response. "I love you, birdie!"
You turn around and stare at him for a moment and he says it again
"I love you so much, birdie!"
Your mouth turns up into a big grin
"I love you too, Johnny"
Paul
Paul waits a bit to test the waters
You've probably gone on about three or four dates
He definitely says it first
You're on another date, at a carnival
He's watching you with stars in his eyes as you play a game
When you win, he shouts, "Oh, I love you!"
Both of you sort of freeze before he says, "I do. I love you, Y/N."
You smile at him and kiss him gently
"I love you more, Macca"
It then turns into a battle of who loves who more that ends in a long kiss, a messy bed, and a pillow fight
George
George says a lot of things as a joke
On about your third date, you had jokingly said, "You know you love me!"
"I love you" was one of them
Not really sure which of you says it first
To which he had let out a long hum before replying, "Yes, I do."
Neither of you thought much of it
A few months after, you're both cuddling on the couch, watching telly
George leans over and kisses the top of your head. "You know I mean it, right?"
You quirk an eyebrow and he continues, "You know I mean it when I say I love you"
You smile a little and kiss him "I love you too, Georgie"
Ringo
Ritchie, try as he might, falls head over heels very easily
You are no exception
Definitely says it first
After your first date, he walks you to your door
"I love you, Y/N!"
You sort of giggle, confused, and say, "Goodnight, Rich"
No matter if you say it back or not, he always makes sure you know
"I love you, honey!"
Eventually, you finally realize you return the feeling
The look on his face when you say it back is priceless
#mine#the beatles#the beatles x reader#beatles x reader#the beatles imagines#the beatles imagine#beatles imagines#beatles imagine#beatles fanfic#the beatles fanfiction#john lennon#john lennon x reader#paul mccartney#paul mccartney x reader#george harrison#george harrison x reader#ringo starr#ringo starr x reader#vivi in the sky with fanfics
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