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all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney · 1 month

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We've Got Tonight (Paul McCartney x Starr!Female!Reader)

Find Part Two Here

A/N: WOW, is all I can say. The alarming support from those of you reading my work is driving me to write more than EVER right now! I cannot say thank you enough, y'all. Your notes and comments inspire me, so please keep it up if you wanna read more from me!

I'm about to bless y'all with some McBeardy angst, so I hope you all enjoy!!

Also, this fic was inspired by Bob Seger's We've Got Tonight, so I highly recommend listening to the song before and/or after reading this one to get into the vibe of it.

Summary: Paul is in his lonesome after a break up. So are you. You decide to keep each other company.

WARNINGS: ANGST, but it gets sweet in the end. Mentions of cheating, low self esteem. Suggestive actions, mentions/insinuation of sex, but no smut (that'll be saved for a bonus part 2 if anyone's interested in that.)

There is mention of the Beatles' extended family, so if I have any incorrect info in here, I apologize in advance; I didn't want this to become too much of a history lesson.

Also, like my other fics, this one is a NOVEL, so please read when you have a good half hour+ of free time :)

I don't wanna rate this a T, but there is no smut in this, so please just be aware that there is sex mentioned/insinuated, so PLEASE just read at your own discretion. But most of all, enjoy!

Paul was sitting on the sofa in the den, alone with the lights out. He was staring out the window at the night in silence as he sucked down another cigarette and sipped at another glass of scotch.

It was late enough that the world around him was dead sleep, yet he was wide awake, and alone with his thoughts.

He broke it off with Linda. She was a sweet girl, and no one was really quite sure why things ended between them, but they all knew it was a mutual agreement.

Paul really hadn't been taking it well, though. He hadn't been sleeping right for almost a month, and he stared drinking a little more. He didn't want anyone really knowing, which is why he did it in his lonesome.

He wasn't necessarily by himself, because the rest of the Beatles were upstairs in their collective rooms asleep; but what made him feel alone was that alongside the bandmates in their rooms were their families and wives. And Paul just didn't have that.

Usually he would have been rather vocal over something that bothered him so much, but the band felt like recently they'd been clashing, so he wasn't wanting to bother them with something like that.

While Paul finished the final puff of his cigarette and put out the butt in the ashtray on the coffee table, his head snapped to the entrance of the den, where he caught sight of a silhouette in the threshold.

You stopped in your tracks when Paul made eye contact with you. You supposed he'd heard your footsteps.

From what you could tell from the light of the moon shining in through the window, Paul seemed worn out. He rubbed the side of his face with his free hand before wordlessly nodding to you in acknowledgement.

"... I'm sorry to intrude. I didn't know anyone was still awake. I was just needing a drink," you explained quietly. You'd met Paul a few times here and there-- you had to, with Ringo-- or Rich-- your brother, being one of his bandmates and all.

Paul was always kind when you interacted with each other, but you could definitely tell something was a little off about his behaviour this time around.

Rich did mention Paul's break-up to you briefly, but you were going through your own separation, so you were in your own head with your own problems. That's why Rich offered to bring you along with him, Maureen, Zak, and Jason on this trip with the rest of the guys and their families, so you could get away from thinking about your ex.

Unfortunately, the unfamiliar space put you in the same position as Paul; wide awake, in the middle of the night, with a racing mind.

"'S alright," he sighed before drinking the rest of the scotch in his glass and raising to his feet. You watched him move around the room to the alcohol cabinet right outside the kitchen.

He refilled his glass right to the top before wordlessly grabbing a second glass out, tossing in a few ice cubes, and filling it three quarters of the way before sliding it over to you.

Your eyes widened a little, considering you'd actually come down for some water, but maybe this was a sign you were going to want something stronger.

"... Should've asked you if you even like this stuff," Paul stated apologetically when he realized how gentlemanly he was not being. You smiled sadly at him, but picked up the glass anyways.

He matched his glass to the same level as yours before you both gently tapped them together. The sound of the glass chimed for a moment before you and Paul raised the drinks to your lips.

The scotch was harsh, and you surely made an unflattering face as you took a sip, but Paul didn't say anything to you, as he was too busy staring at the ice swirling around in his own glass.

"... What're you doing up so late, if you don't mind me asking?" You asked after a moment of silence, and Paul's big brown eyes met yours for another quiet second as he thought about what to respond with.

He pushed his tongue into his cheek before shrugging and mumbling into his glass, "thinking."

After taking another sip of his drink and staring off into space for a moment or two, he bit his lip, gesturing over to you with his glass.

"And you?" You shook your head, realizing it was your turn to scrounge up an excuse for being wide awake at such an absurd time.

"Can't sleep," you lied.

Paul frowned, motioning you to the sofa he was just sitting on to invite you to sit for a while. After a moment of pondering whether you should really go back to your room, you made up your mind and headed to the sofa, Paul following suit.

There was just something about the way his dark eyes gazed into yours, and behind them was this sadness you just couldn't ignore.

Before he took a seat, you were able to get another good look at him. He was in black jeans, and a green sweater; his day-clothes completely contrasting your pyjama set. He'd grown his hair out since you saw him last, and now he was sporting a full beard.

You always thought he was a good looking guy, but now, without being blinded by any bias, there was really no denying how handsome Paul had become since you seen him last.

In fact, it felt like every time you ended up seeing him next, he always seemed to look better and better, and you weren't quite sure how that was possible.

Paul took the seat right next to you, and he set his drink down on the coffee table, clasping his hands together, elbows on the thighs, and hanging his head.

"To be honest with you... I went through a separation about a month ago. And I don't seem to be handling it well." He finally sighed, turning his head so he was looking at you again. He unclasped his hands and ran his fingers through his beard a few times.

"I'm a romantic, y'know, and I'm not a fan of being so lonely." You nodded your head a little at his words. What was tough was that you didn't have anything encouraging to say to him because you were in the same boat.

Paul swallowed when you remained silent, and then he cleared his throat. He scratched the back of his head nervously as he leaned back into the sofa.

"I'm sorry, I know it's late, and you're probably just wanting to head to bed." He gave a little head nod of understanding as he rubbed his eye with his finger. "You're not here to talk to me about my problems."

It was your turn to set your drink down on the table, turning your attention to him again.

"Well... will that help make you feel better, perhaps?" you watched Paul's eyes meet yours again, and he pressed his lips together tightly in thought.

"... I don't know if there is really much to say," he said after a moment, reaching for his glass again.

"Thank you, though. Was very kind of you to offer somethin' like that."

After he took another sip of his drink, he gestured to you again with his glass.

"... Ringo sort of mentioned you were going through a separation too... You doin' okay?" Paul tried his best to be as inclusive as possible, but it was all rough stuff to talk about, so he treaded carefully.

"I mean..." you trailed off for a moment before responding with a simple, "I'm angry, above all else."

You were honestly taken aback by Paul's question. Rich wasn't necessarily the greatest person to receive comforting advice from, especially when it came to this separation, since he thought so highly of your ex, but you perhaps weren't telling him the whole truth.

But you were definitely surprised he even mentioned your pain to anyone else, let alone his bandmates.

"Kept a lot of heavy things to myself for a long time, it just became exhausting." Now it was your turn to reach for your scotch, still cringing at its strength as you took a generous mouthful.

Paul waited a beat before asking, "would talking about it with me maybe make you feel better?"

"... you really care to know that stuff?" You asked gently for clarification. As mentioned, you and Paul weren't close, you could probably count on one hand the amount of times you met him prior to this moment...

And this was heavy stuff you were seemingly about to share, and you really wanted to make sure he was okay with that.

Paul nodded his head without hesitation, and offered, "'s the least I can do for you for keeping me company so late."

You sighed a deep breath, and took a few more sips from your glass before putting it back down, curling your legs up to your chest, and began.

You told Paul about your ex. You told him about how you were with him for five years, and watched him slowly fall out of love with you, sleep around, and how you struggled with self-image and self-worth for a long time.

You also mentioned how you were the one to leave, but he had no idea you had any strength to do so, so he tried for a long while to guilt you into going back to him.

The difficult things to talk about made you a little more emotional, so you breathed your way through it slowly as to not cry. The drink Paul poured for you was helping you relax at least.

Paul was more than patient with you, and you were grateful for that. At one point during the lengthy conversation, he lit another cigarette, and began offering you drags throughout your story to calm your nerves.

You took those offers graciously, and thankfully.

"... I don't know. I just lay awake every night, wondering if there was something I could have done different so he didn't do what he did."

You were staring out the window with Paul now, taking in just how many stars you could actually see from the den. He took his final puffs of his smoke, the thin silver waves swirling in the air above the both of your heads.

"Sounds like he didn't cherish you enough when you were around," Paul debated gently, shaking his head and putting out his cigarette end in the ashtray next to the others. He picked up his scotch again before mumbling against the rim,

"He's not worth it."

You pulled yourself from the trance of the tiny lights outside to wipe remnants of silent, salty tears off your cheeks, and you used that moment to glance over at Paul, whose nose was still deep in the glass. When he pulled the drink away from his mouth and swallowed, you parted your lips to speak.

"... was Linda worth it?" You didn't mean it in a rude way, but you hadn't met her personally, and you wanted to pry Paul just a tiny bit.

He smiled, but it was bitter. You figured you struck a nerve, and before you could apologize for what you said, he answered simply, with tears glossing his own eyes,

"Yes. She was."

You tilted your head a little and frowned, trying to understand what drove them apart.

"It was just never the right timing. She was ready for things I wasn't in the beginning, and then down the road, when I was seemingly ready for those things, she wasn't. And I didn't want her wasting her time on a life she didn't wanna live, y'know?"

"So she's the one that got away," you mused gently.

"Indeed, she was." Paul nodded a little before finishing the rest of his scotch in his glass, leaning back again, and cradling his head in his hand as he looked at you for another quiet moment, resting his glass in-hand on his thigh.

"... I'm not a bad person, am I?" Those watery eyes never disappeared, and you had to break his sad gaze, opting to reach out and rub his shoulder comfortingly.

"Hey, no. Wasting your time, or her time, like the way my ex did to me, would have made you a bad person, Paul. Saying good bye was the right thing to do."

"Well, I wish that made me feel better," he mumbled, dropping his own gaze to the space between the both of you. He pushed a stray tear away before he thought you could see it, and then scratched at his beard again. You guessed that must have been a habit of his out of stress.

"Something about her made me feel like she was the one. Like we were meant to share the same story; but we always seemed to be on a different chapter,"

He sniffled, but only once. "That being said, was I perhaps too lovestruck in the end to want to believe that her future was meant to be shared with someone else?"

His voice carried so much sorrow, and you knew he needed some kind of advice. It took you a moment or so to find the right words to say to him.

"... Knowing my ex wasn't right for me and the reality of me leaving doesn't make me feel any better. At all." You offered to Paul, before adding,

"... But why should the expectations of those we chose to take out of our life dictate the way we behave today?"

The words that came out of your mouth were surprisingly wise, and you watched Paul's eyebrows knit together as he absorbed what you said.

He focused his sight to you again, a more determined look on his face. Paul knew you were absolutely right. He was a charmer; romancing people was his thing.

There was no denying Linda was special, but when he realized he really had no commitment in romancing her anymore, he finally understood that it was his own thoughts holding him back.

Even if it took him a little longer than expected, he knew you were right. He would recover from this.

"... I think you just opened my eyes and made me realize something... Thank you, y/n, really." He reached up with his free hand after a second, fingers grazing your own hand still on his arm in comfort, showing you his gratitude for your words of advice.

You smiled a little, glad you were able to help him somewhat through his times of trouble as you pulled your hand away.

Paul stood up again, retrieving his empty glass from the coffee table before facing you fully, a more genuine smile beginning to pull on the corners of his mouth, but it was still rather sad.

"I'm grabbing a refill, you too?"

Your sight drifted to your near-empty glass on the table.

Why let tonight go to waste? End so soon?

"Please," you asked, grabbing the glass yourself, but Paul began to tut at you as he grabbed the glass from your fingers.

"Please, I'll get it for you," he insisted, and you watched his slender figure move around the couch to head for the alcohol cabinet another time. He filled them only halfway this time, and on the way back he made a brief stop at the record player near the entrance of the den.

Soft classical music rang out quietly from the player once Paul dropped the needle down onto the vinyl, and he returned to his spot next to you with your two drinks. You thanked him quietly as he passed the glass over to you, and he leaned in a little, raising his drink between the two of you.

"Hello to... new beginnings," he began slowly.

"And Goodbye to false finales," you finished, your glasses tapping together again before you took yet another sip of the drink.

Paul matched your movements, his eyes watching you, even when you turned away to gaze longingly out the window for a moment, basking in the feeling of the gentle music flirting with your ears.

Sure, you and Paul could have went on for the rest of the night discussing your heartbreak, but you decided to drive the conversation elsewhere.

You sighted back to him after a while, his sight unwavering from you. Your eyes locked for just a beat before you decided aloud with a gentle nod,

"... you know, that beard really suits you."

Paul's eyebrows shot up, and his face darkened a little as he bit his lips between his teeth almost nervously.

"... Think so?"

You'd never seen him lack so much confidence when given a compliment before, but instead of pitying him, you almost admired his innocence.

It sounded like he needed to hear a compliment like that.

"Yes," you laughed airily, raising your glass up for another drink. Paul couldn't bite back his smile anymore, so he copied you to mask his lips. You then gestured to your head with the point of your finger as you swallowed the alcohol back easier and easier each time.

"Your hair, too. I think it's a nice length."

Your kind words made Paul feel warm and fuzzy inside, and he placed his scotch back down on the table.

"Well, thanks, Love." He rubbed the back of his neck, and laughed weakly. "I call it my 'Don't View The Mirror For Three Weeks' look."

Paul paused in his moments of self-deprecation to realize he should have maybe complimented you back. He took a second to take another good look at you as he decided what to say, exactly.

"... Y'know, the last time I saw you was a few years ago, now."

You thought for a moment on that. It had been a while since you'd seen him last. You nodded your head as you recalled the day.

"You're right, it has been some time. Christmas, 1966." John and Cynthia had hosted this massive holiday dinner, and everyone's extended family was there.

You were single at the time, and spent dinner conversing with Paul's sister, Ruth, who was at least fifteen years younger than you. There was no introduction made by Paul, she just walked up, introduced herself to you, and made a friend by herself.

She went on and on about school, and music, and how the potatoes were her favourite part of dinner; and you paid attention to everything she had to say, responding with your own opinions and jokes to keep her feeling included amongst the adults at the table.

And Paul, who was seated next to Ruth, couldn't help but overhear your conversations throughout the evening, and he found it rather charming that you treated Ruth with such respect despite her young age.

And after dinner, you and Ruth danced together almost the whole night. She eventually went over to do a little dancing with Paul, and you watched as she bounced around excitedly with her brother, who, for just a moment, locked eyes with you across the sea of dancing guests.

You remember giving him a shy wave with a smile, and he sent a wink back your way before returning his attention to Ruth, spinning her around as she squealed happily.

"... I'm rather fond of that evening," Paul stated simply, the reality of your melancholy evening strongly contrasting with the memories of the wonderful night.

Now you and Paul weren't so young, and this time he was noticing the little lines under your eyes, indicating the dragging march of time slowly catching up to you both.

"And, even after all the years that have passed... you still look as lovely tonight as you did then."

You blushed at Paul's compliment, biting back a stupid grin as you repeated the words in your head.

"And I admire your ever-present kindness," he added on, and you knew he really just meant he showed appreciation for lending him an ear in his time of need.

"More people need to be like you."

"I don't know what to say," you said honestly, settling for a gentle "thank you," in the end. Paul just nodded, unsure if there was anything to say back.

"You know..." you paused for a second, watching as Paul went for another sip from his glass. "It was quite a shame we never got a dance in that night together, just you and me."

Paul was mid sip when you said that, so you continued on.

"The music was great, everyone was in high spirits, and I was maybe too shy to approach you myself and ask you to dance with me. So I guess that's on me." You scratched your elbow as you announced your rather dumb confession to him.

Paul, who was nearly done with his drink now, waited a moment or two in thought, before rising to his feet, and wandering back over to the record player, scotch still in hand.

You tried to watch his movements over your shoulder, but it was really dark. All you knew was that he was changing the music.

The classical tune cut, and the player began to drawl a much slower, more recent song; one you hadn't yet heard.

Paul turned on his heel as he reapproached the sofa, taking the final sip of scotch he had left in his glass before placing it back down on the table, and reaching his hand out for you to take.

"Well, let's not let this dance wait any longer, then, yeah?"

You froze for just a moment, Paul's outstretched hand hung in the air for a few seconds, and your sight moved up to his face, where you noticed his confidence falter just a little.

"Again, I know it's late, and I know your plans for the night surely didn't include me..."

"But, still, here we are." Your words came out almost effortlessly. You finished your scotch as well, and when you finally put your hand in Paul's, he squeezed your fingers gently, that warm upturn finally returning to his lips.

He guided you slowly over to the windows so you weren't in so much darkness, the moonlight still shining just enough for you both to see one another; and when Paul decided he could see your face much better, he let his other hand drop to your waist, watching as your own hand rested on his forearm.

You both shifted from side to side to the beat of the music, and you stared absentmindedly at the small space between you both.

"... You okay?" He asked you quietly after a minute, and you looked up at him, cheeks reddening as you realized you could feel his breath fanning your face.

"I've realized just how long it's been since I last danced with someone like this," you mentioned sheepishly, and a little smirk pulled at the corner of Paul's mouth.

"You don't have two left feet, y'know," his tone was almost teasing, and you smiled back, glad he wasn't feeling so much sadness anymore.

Paul then added with a little shrug, "'Sides, I wanted to dance with you that night, too. But I'm very glad I have the honours now."

Paul began turning with you in slow circles together as you continued to sway, and you took a moment to decide your next words carefully.

"... I suppose what I'm trying to say is that it's different when you're dancing with someone who actually wants to dance with you. It's just... it's really nice. So thank you, Paul."

Paul let go of your waist for a moment, and raised your clasped hands above your heads so you could twirl under his arm. When you did just that, and faced him again, he pulled you just a little closer than you were before, your torsos flush as his hand snaked slowly to the small of your back.

"Thank you," he mumbled back, quietly. You weren't entirely sure what he was thanking you for this time, but you never asked.

Instead, you shut your eyes and opted to rest your head in the crook of his neck as the hand you had on Paul's bicep slid upward so your arm circled around his shoulders, in a half embrace.

And then you felt Paul tilt his own head down as if to envelope you more. You'd be lying if you said your heart didn't skip a beat when he did that.

Paul then began to hum the lyrics of the song, quietly, as if you were the only person in the world who was meant to hear it. Both yours and his eyes were closed now as you two basked in such a beautiful moment.

Two lonely people, finding comfort, and peace in each other.

Paul raised your clasped hands closer to him so he could rest them against his chest. You could actually feel his heartbeat pounding against the side of your hand, which made you a little nervous, but not in a bad way.

Paul stopped moving you around in circles, but the swaying never ceased. He lifted his cheek off your crown after a while, and you couldn't help but open your eyes and raise your gaze back to his face.

Paul smiled so sweetly at you, and you watched his eyes shift ever so slightly from left to right as he looked back into yours. His eyebrows then worried for just a moment before he opened his mouth slightly as if to say something, but no words came out.

Your shifting finally slowed to a standstill, and you opened your mouth this time to speak, yet you found yourself in Paul's very position.

There was nothing to say.

You watched as his gaze softened on you, and you weren't sure if it was the drinks, or the lack of sleep, but it was like you could almost feel the gravity around you manipulating you to move just a little closer to him.

And he must have felt it as well. Paul's head began to drop slowly, and it wasn't long before you met him in the middle, your lips coming together in a very soft, and very unplanned kiss. The both of you kept still, almost as if the smallest move would have frightened the other away.

You were both holding your breath as well, and Paul pulled away from the kiss first, arm still wrapped around your back, hand still clasped in yours.

He was staring at you in awe, as were you, eyes wide, and lips still slightly parted as you both processed what exactly just happened.

Paul still couldn't muster any words, nor could you, for that matter; but he could definitely read your gaze. Your eyes were almost begging him to do that again.

And that's exactly what happened; your lips came crashing into each other again after only another second.

You weren't stupid, and neither was he. You both already knew this night was going to become something else entirely. You were craving the touch of someone, and you didn't even have to tell him.

You could just tell with the way he was moving his mouth against yours, and the way his body was flush with you, that he was wanting it just as bad.

Paul's hand finally let go of yours so he could lace his fingers into the hair at the back of your head, and your own hand slid around to his back. He tried pulling you even closer, but it just wasn't possible.

You sighed quietly as you kissed him again, and again, and Paul's hand unweaved itself from your hair as he cupped your face before breaking the kiss off again, another troubled look on his face.

"Ringo'll kill me if he knew I was--"

"Paul, please. I need this," you didn't let him finish his sentence. You didn't really care what your brother thought of anything, and you assumed, deep down, Paul really didn't care either, because he dove back in for more kisses as soon as he could.

His hands cupped your jawline as you gripped his sweater in your fists at his chest. You parted your mouth slightly and just melted into Paul's arms when he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip.

You moaned lowly against him, ears ringing, and all Paul could think to do was blindly shuffle you backwards towards the sofa, but instead, you felt the coffee table hit the back your legs, and you nearly stumbled back. The glasses, once filled with scotch but now only ice, shuffled against the table's surface at the force of you bumping into it.

Paul ended your kiss once more, one of his hands leaving the side of your face to circle around your hips quickly so you didn't fall back. He smiled at you when he knew you weren't going anywhere, offering you a teasing, "maybe you do have two left feet, Darling."

That wonderful pet name made your flesh rise with goosebumps, but all you could mumble to him was, "Just shut up and kiss me, Paul."

Without hesitation, he did just that, which felt like an eternity to the both of you since the last one.

He, still blindly, yet carefully, directed you around the table and to the sofa. Paul, with his hands holding your hips, was the first to sink down, but encouraged you to straddle him as soon as he was fully seated with an encouraging tap to the back of your thighs.

It was your turn to pull away now, your dominant hand resting flat against the centre of Paul's chest as you gave him a good once-over, feeling his heartbeat beneath your palm.

Paul was leaned back, lips parted and shining, assumably from the spit you'd been exchanging, and his eyes almost twinkling at you in adoration.

Your heart was full of something you hadn't felt in a very long time, and it was all because of this sensual interaction.

You reached out with your other hand and ran your thumb over his bottom lip, his shallow breath fluttering gently against the skin on your fingers. You tilted his head up and kissed him again, and your fingernails just couldn't resist playing with his beard any longer.

Paul's grip on your hips tightened when you started doing that, and when you decided to take your other hand off his chest and start playing with his hair, he let out a very low groan against your lips, and to both of your surprise, his hips bucked up involuntarily against you.

He gasped at his own actions, and you pulled away to view the look of apologetic shock written on his face. His cheeks and neck were flushed, and his eyebrows were bent in worry, again.

"I-I promise I didn't mean to..." Paul's voice carried a hint of... shame, almost. You watched as he nervously toyed his bottom lip between his teeth as he tried searching his brain for something to say, but the effects of his drink and your sweet attention had him grasping for any type of clear thought.

But all of his attempts went completely out the window when you lowered your hips down and rocked them back against his, his head falling back against the sofa as his eyes rolled, a guttural moan rumbling from deep within his chest.

It was absolutely apparent that Paul's jeans were lacking the room they'd possessed a few minutes prior, and when you repeated the circular motion with your hips again, feeling him hard against your core, you were rewarded with another low growl from him.

"W-wait," Paul uttered weakly after a second, arms and fingers tightening at your hips to keep you from moving around and teasing him again, as much as he didn't want you to stop.

"I want this so much. I want you so much," he began, taking a beat to rake his eyes down your body as his tongue swiped against his own bottom lip. His gaze flitted back to your eyes, and he swallowed nervously.

"I don't want you to do this if you aren't, y'know..." you waited for him to finish his thought, and his round pink cheeks seemed to flush just a little more.

"If you're not okay with it."

You took a second to think on his argument. You and he were relatively fresh out of troubled relationships, and you both seemed to be hurting from the aftermath of said relationships...

But you were so lonely, too. And, to each other, you were simply beautiful, and respectful people, offering your... company... in a time of isolation for you both.

And it wasn't like there was any label for what you two were, either. All you and Paul needed was to feel wanted-- to feel loved.

And only if you could experience such a feeling for one more night in your life, Paul was offering now. And you were going to take it.

"I want this moment to last, Paul. If you're okay with making me feel wanted again, I am more than comfortable doing the same for you."

You could see him visibly relax when you said that, relief washing over his features as he reached a hand up to caress the back of your neck and bring you into a single, sweet kiss. You still couldn't get over how gentle and polite he was still being about all of this.

"We should really... go to my room," Paul suggested quietly after pulling a fraction of an inch away from the contact. You nodded your head, sighing "okay" as Paul closed the gap between you both just once more, only for a peck.

He let go of your hips and he reached for your hands instead, fingers intertwining slowly, and affectionately. You slid out of his lap, and Paul rose to his feet, guiding you without a hurry towards of the threshold of the den, where you stood to greet him unexpectedly just an hour or so before this moment.

The 45 on the record player had since finished playing the song, needle spinning needlessly in silence. Paul briefly resituated the player before continuing your journey one step at a time towards his bedroom, the heart in your chest beating erratically.

You climbed the stairs together, one dragging step at a time, and Paul led you around the corner of the hallway, pausing at the first room on the right. He glanced over at you, hand on the doorknob as he gave you another look. One that was asking a final, "are you sure?"

You placed your free hand over Paul's without a sound, and together you opened the door. He pulled you in for one more intimate embrace, lips on yours again before he pulled you into the dark room, gently kicking the door closed behind him.

And that night, you stayed with Paul. Hand-in-hand, bodies entwined, souls healing, loneliness fading away, and hopes of feeling whole again finally returning.

Being awake in the middle of the night had never been so gratifying.

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A/A/N: I hope you all enjoyed this! like I said, I can always whip up a part 2 regarding what happened behind those closed doors, so lmk if you're interested in that at all! Thanks for the support again and stay tuned for more works!

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vivi-in-the-sky-with-diamonds · 1 year

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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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makemeactup · 18 days

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Ringo Starr x Reader - Stolen Glances

Summary: Ringo has feelings for his long time friend, but cant bring himself to do more than steal glances.

This is actually something I wrote for my oc but thought everyone would enjoy it. So — here ya go!

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It wasn't that Ringo was scared to say anything to you. No, he wasn't the least bit worried about the outcome. You were adults now, it'd be fine. But, perhaps, he was just being cautious about the situation. Weighing up the possibilities and the comfort of the now. Such as:

Everytime you would playfully shove him, or playfully punch his shoulder, or playfully try to fight or wrestle, or just sit next him or drape your legs over his lap or put your head on his shoulder, Ringo held a humongous grin. His cheeks would tint a soft red. His blue eyes took you in as quickly as they could without drawing any attention.

Each time, he played along or dismissed you with a joke. Sometimes he would wrestle or take an exaggerated boxing stance, or he'd put his hand around your legs to make sure that you could relax and not worry about them sliding off. You'd smile at him then, beaming and radiant. And it'd be just for him — until one of the other boys, usually John, demanded your attention.

You were like that with everyone for the most part, Ringo had reasoned. You'd playfully shove George, but you wouldn't try to fight him. You'd use Paul as a pillow, but you wouldn't try to wrestle with him. You'd offer both men your smile, the one they all knew so well. But John, to Ringo's eyes, was too close to how you treated him.

John did get the playful fights and attempts to wrestle, and sometimes you'd get put into a headlock or he'd have his arm wrenched behind his back. John did get sat next to, and he got your head on his shoulder, or legs over his lap. But worst of all, he got the smile. The others got the smile, sure, but that wasn't the same. It was a specific smile.

But who was Ringo against John? Clint Eastwood versus Larry Fine?

Oh well, Ringo would shrug to himself at the thought. You were all long time friends, nothing more. His feelings had to pass, right? The denial certainly wouldn't, but that was neither here nor there.

Sat behind his drumkit, drumsticks held loosely in hand, he watched his friends interact. He watched you as you laughed at something George had said, waving him away. He admired your side profile, your shiny hair. Your shirt was nice today.

Sporadically, his eyes flickered to whoever was talking, an attempt to cover his tracks. He'd crack a smile and laugh at a joke or story, but he wasn't actually listening. Not as he gently hit the cymbals absentmindedly, and not as he looked at you again.

"—right, Ringo?" Came the sudden voice of Paul, the use of his name knocking him back into the room.

It was only then, under the scrutinising stares of his friends, did the drummer realise that his face gave away his previously absent mind. His eyes, dark with the apparent lack of sleep lately, grew briefly wide as he perked up and looked at Paul.

"What'd you say, Paul?"

"You alright? You look spaced out."

"Oh," Ringo blinked. "Yeah, I'm fine. And you?"

"You're gonna get bug-eyed if y' keep starin'," John hummed, smirk wide. He had obviously seen something the others hadn't.

"In me own world," Ringo raised an arm and moved his drumstick in a circular motion beside his temple for emphasis.

"Can I join your world?" You asked innocently, brows arching, as if you'd have to plead for him to say yes.

"'course ya can!" He beamed softly. "None'a these jokers can, though."

"What have I done?" George asked, sounding offended to be included with John and Paul.

"Dunno, let me get back t' you," Ringo offered, earning a small laugh and smile from his friends.

His eyes met yours, and he offered a small shrug. When you didn't immediately turn around, he swore he felt his neck grow warmer and the grip on his drumsticks grow ten times tighter. His lips grew into a lopsided grin, nose turning a soft shade of red.

When you did eventually turn back around, he released a breath he didn't know he was holding. Swallowing thickly and lightly hitting his drumsticks together, he feigned interest in whatever joke or story was being told. All the while, as subtly as he could in the background, he kept stealing loving glances at you.

#Ringo Starr x Reader #the beatles x reader #Enjoy!! 🥰#John Lennon x reader #Paul McCartney x reader #george harrison x reader #Writing.

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drooperz · 5 months

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Night out

I love this picture so much ><

Summary: After your friends abandon plans Ringo spots you and wants to spend the evening with you!

Ringo Starr x reader :P hurt/comfort but overall fluff

You often came down to the pub whenever your friends offered to meet up, it was a good place to chat and relax about things over a drink. Many memories of laughing and gossiping and getting a little too drunk some nights rushed to mind when you opened the front door. The place was a bit more busy than it usually was and you felt a little anxious when you didn't spot your friends on any table.

Hopefully they turn up soon.

You found an empty table and brushed the crumbs off the seat before settling.

The radio gently drifted over all the chatter of the room and the noise seemed to put you at ease, tender tunes soothing your worries.

As you sat waiting at a table you stared off into the distance, your mind went blank as you started to count the minutes...

5 minutes turned to 10 minutes and then 10 to 20...

As you waited, you noticed people coming and going out of the pub and the evening got darker.

You were sure your friends had forgotten about this meetup. No, surely not... Right?

You rested your head in your hands and sighed, thinking if you should just go home and wallow in the fact that you could have been forgotten or stay a little longer.

But, you decided to stay for a few more minutes, hoping they'll pop through the door and get to talking. Explaining how they'd been held back in traffic or some other explanation as to why they're so late.

Your mind went blank, again. A thick haze of thoughts and reasonings your friends could be late, retreating more and more inwards as you dwelled on them more.

"You alright luv?" A voice called.

You looked up at the figure in front of you, watching his slightly concerned face.

"Oh- uhh, yeah I'm fine." You gave a little smile to reasure the stranger. You rubbed your eye, feeling tired and let down.

"You sure? I've seen you waiting here for about a half hour..." he retorted, sounding sorry as his expression softened.

Your eyes felt heavy and sore, you sighed, "I uhh, I just thought I was gonna meet up with friends but..." you looked up at him and raised your hands up on either side before resting them on your lap, "I dont know where they are. Or I'm in the wrong pub!" I tried to chuckle, make light of it. I wasn't going to hold it against them but I still felt dejected.

He pulled out a hard wood chair next to me and sat down, "Could I spend the evening with you then luv? " I could see the features on his face better now, I didn't notice how blue his eyes were until he sat face to face with me, "A birdy like you should have a nice evening." He smiled and chucked slightly as he spoke, it made you feel warm.

Your face flushed, "You sure?" You asked, "I dont want to intrude on anything-"

"Believe me, it's fine." The stranger spoke gently, "I came looking for a good chat!" He was lively and his energy consoled you.

"Oh, I'm Richard by the way," he held out one of his hands and you noticed the rings on his last two fingers, "but all me mates call me Ringo." He chucked at himself again and you shook his hand, "y/n," you replied and smiled at him, "do you come to this pub often then?"

"Mostly on weekends but other than that every other day! When do you usually come here?" He leaned forward towards you and his wilting sky blue eyes waited for an answer. Before answering, you admired him, only for a split second; the curve of his lips, his long lashes and soft features made him look so charming.

In a flash you felt yourself get flustered at his handsome-ness. Dont be weird! You thought, you've got to think of an answer!

"Erm, well... I dont usually come on my own. But, I usually come down on weekends too, when me and my friends are off." You fiddled with your fingers, feeling your palms get sweaty. Be brave, be brave! "Even though my friends didn't show, I'm glad I'm talking with someone."

"Don't worry yourself doll," Richard stated, "I've had this happen and the best thing to do is not dwell on it!" He smiled again and it reassured you that what he said was true. This moment was surely just a blip in the grand scheme of many nights out you thought.

As the evening went on you both went back and fourth about questions and interests. You had learned that he plays the drums in a band that often played in another pub not far from this one.

You both shared a common interest in music and asked about if he had done any songs himself, to which he replied, 'I dont have anything solid, yet.' Sometimes he would ramble a little, then apologise but you didn't mind. You found him endearing and you liked hearing him talk and the more he talked the more you found yourself liking his company.

At one point he held your hand whilst he was talking about something and your mind completely zoned out, only focusing on his thumb gently running over the ridges of your fingers. He teased you when he saw how red your face was, according to him you were 'a kin to a tomato'. You felt so embarrassed that after Richard let go of your hand you rubbed and cupped your face hoping the blush would go away but he laughed again and called you cute, you hated how he already had this effect on you.

You cursed yourself for how easily he was swooning you with his sweet face and funny attitude and perfect eyes and cute nose and... and... ohhh no... you were in deep... he was already all you could think about this evening!

"Oh my goodness what is the time?" Richard exclaimed, snapping you out of your thoughts about him. He looked past you and presumably out of a window.

The evening turned to night and the outside world was dark, streetlamps illuminated the road with a warm hue. There were only a handful of people within the pub at that moment, it was very quiet. The radio being turned off didn't help with the stiffness of the atmosphere surrounding the pub but you two were happy with whatever you had going on.

"Can I walk you home?" He asked, already getting up out of his chair looking down at you for an answer.

"Would that be okay?" You answered, you couldn't really walk out in the pitch blackness on your own and at this point you just wanted to spend time with Richard.

"Of course love!" He extended a hand and you took it, happily going with a man you just met that night.

He opened the door for you and you thanked him as you both practically skipped out of the pub.

"My house isn't far from here, so I hopefully wont tire your legs." You giggled, smiling his way.

"Dont worry about me legs love," he huffed, "I wanna make sure I see you home safe."

"Thank you Richard." You really appreciated his kindness and couldn't be more thankful for meeting him.

The walk home was slightly misty and quiet, distant dog barks could be heard from time to time and the street laps hummed slightly as you both walked under them.

"I was just wondering," Richard stated, "I'm playing at a pub next week and would you like to see me and me mates play?" He asked before adding to the statement again, "Not in like, an egotistical way but like-" he cut himself off and laughed at his explanation.

"No I'd love to hear you play!" You exclaimed, you hoped he noticed how enthusiastic you were about wanting to hear him in his element.

"I'll save you front row seats!" He rubbed his hands together excitedly and you chuckled at him.

You recognised your neighbours houses, "Not far now," and soon enough, through the puddles and lamp light you were infront of your house. Tired but happy to be so near a bed as soon as I unlock the door...

You smiled again, "thank you again Richard."

"Its the least I coul do." He looked at you kindly and sweetly.

You looked down, a little nervous about how you should go about saying goodbye.

Caught up in the moment, you leaned in and cautiously you placed a delicate kiss on his cheeck.

Backing away, you already missed the feeling of Richard's warmth.

His hand gently moved to graze the area you kissed and after his shocked expression faded he smiled lightly to himself.

"Consider that a promise that I will, in fact, see you play next week!"

He looked at you, "you're a right charmer you know that?" You giggled at what he had to say.

It was late and even thought talking to Richard was the best thing to do, your bed was calling and you still wanted to make a good impression.

"I'm looking forward to seeing you play, I'll see you then-" you were about to unlock the door until he said something...

"Wait, theres something else I need to give you." He looked like he was thinking about something.

"Yeah, what is it. What's up?"

In a second he leaned forward and your mind raced, unsure of what he was doing, until one of his hands held your shoulder ever so tenderly and he kissed the corner of your lips.

The feeling was brief and chaste.

It still made you feel giddy with butterflies.

As Richard broke contact he placed both his of hands on either side of your cheecks, rubbing his thumbs on your reddening skin. You looked at him and he was beaming back at you.

"I, in fact, hope to see you there."

Author's note: this is my first ff on tumblr! I hope you liked it :^)

#the beatles #ringo starr #richard starkey #ringo starr x reader #this lad is too darn cute #fluff #hurt/comfort #pookie #the beatles x reader

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iheartjohnlennon · 6 months

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can i request a fic where Ringo and George share Reader (or it’s a threeway relationship) and it’s all cute :) love your stuff <3

'Heaven is a bedroom'

Southampton, '65

Word count: 1,438

Tags: Throuple, Fluff, Angst

The rented holiday home was a quaint retreat in Southampton. It stood tall and was perched on the coast wonderfully.

She forgot whether it was George's or Ringo's idea to rent it. Either way, she remembered getting excited when the getaway idea was proposed to her. She felt a sense of belonging there like she was exactly where she had needed to be.

It was perfect, it was massive, it was secluded. And she couldn't help but entertain the idea of making it their own.

It was quite snippy out on the front that day, the wind made it so.

The set sun darkened the sky a pretty colour since it had gotten late. Everything was still visible but lensed in a light blue hue.

The ocean lapped at her feet and the wind tousled her hair and ruffled the edge of her skirt. She heard her name seemingly being carried to her by the breeze. It was a faint call, and indistinct as the waves crashed.

"Y/N, love!" One of them yelled, it sounded like an invite.

She couldn't discern which one of them it was, they had become one in her mind. Whoever shouted for her was vying for her attention even though she was still in eyesight.

She waved back at them before carrying on with her stroll along the soft edge of the water.

She thought of interaction with the beach to be a lovemaking of some sort, akin to what she had with George and Ringo. A connection that ran deeper than the ocean itself.

Most, if not all people knew them as friends, perhaps something slightly closer than that, but only ever slightly. Thinking about the intimate moments made a coyness settle into her heart.

She adored them both with a fervour that transcended what started as mutual infatuation.

"Y/N."

That name call came again, a few minutes after the last one, this time it was unmistakably Ringo's voice.

She turned around and saw the pair seated on the blanket.

"Come and join us," George said, beckoning her over.

So, she made her way to them, letting her bare feet sink into the soft grains beneath them.

She kneeled in front of them, their eyes shifted all over her as her eyes shifted all over them.

"What is it?" She asked, smiling.

George held out his arms, eager to hold her. She happily held out her arms as well. She hugged him right back, their arms tightly around each other's midriffs.

They let go, and she nestled herself between the two, with George now pressed against her back, it was a comfortable feel. She was facing Ringo, her eyes met his, he leaned in and gave her a soft peck.

"We missed you," George murmured, his voice low. He tickled her ear with his teeth, he wanted his words to resonate with her.

"Oh?" She teased, turning to look up at him, their noses touching.

Ringo chimed in, slightly moving closer, "I missed you a bit more, I reckon."

"Yeah, our mermaid on the shore," George whispered dreamily, his hand finding her waist. He shifted her closer to him, her arse now against his crotch.

She could feel George getting stiff against her, but she thought to tease him. She didn't want to satiate his needs on the beach, not today anyway.

"What are you doing?" She asked playfully.

"Just trying to get you closer, love. Can you blame me? Look at you."

"Feeling a bit daring, are we?"

"Aye, you're irresistible."

Y/N's laughter was a sultry invitation, a coy and sensual response to George's audaciousness. She teased him further and shifted away from his prick.

Ringo couldn't help but feel a pang of possessiveness. Though he could perfectly bear seeing them close, their intimacy was just a reminder they had to share, and share he did.

Ringo began, "I love you, Y/N."

He didn't give her a chance to say it back and kissed her soon after his declaration.

She giggled against his lips, she found everything they did so endearing, even when it was the opposite.

His kiss deepened so she wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing him closer. George watched intently with arousal, though slightly disheartened. He understood the game being played, and it was simply to love her.

Ringo's lips found her neck, each kiss made her laugh obnoxiously. She found herself put on her back, right against the blanket.

"Not here," she groaned.

She put a hand against his chest and he pulled away, leaving her breathless.

"Yet, you mean. Not yet." Ringo retorted.

With a coy look in her eye, she whispered, "The beach is sacred, you know. It's our little haven, we can't take away its innocence and have a shag."

"Well, I think you've had enough of this water-play, love. You've been at it since we bloody came." Ringo said, he shot her a mock stern look. "And what's that you said? We can't fuck you on the beach?"

She looked away, feigning innocence. "Oh, I can't help it, Richie."

"You'll turn into a fish at this rate!" George quipped.

"Aye, we thought we lost you at sea before, love!" Ringo stated dramatically, cupping her face.

She pouted, "You two act like I ran off with the sea, can't help it if it calls me sometimes."

"Well, we'd best make sure he doesn't steal you away completely then," George joked.

"Never."

As she settled, she turned her attention to the small picnic basket one of them had brought.

"What's in it then?" She asked.

Ringo reached into the basket and pulled out a bottle of white wine and a pack of cigarettes.

"No food?" Her question was only half joking, she was hungry.

He chucked and shook his head, he got steady uncorking the bottle for them.

George chuckled, leaning in to kiss her neck. "We'll eat inside. We'll cook something together, won't we?"

"Oh, yes, we will." She gasped, excited.

"But what?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Dunno, but we'll ransack the place for something." George laughed.

Her eyes sparkled with anticipation at his little domestic request. Evenings like that were a natural perfection and made her envision a tangible future with them.

They all sat spread on the blanket. Ringo had uncorked the bottle, there were no cups, but that hardly mattered.

With a flourish, he passed it to George, who took a hearty swig, savouring the taste.

She eagerly accepted the bottle from George and took a long gulp, the wine warmed her from the inside out.

Ringo's eyes gleamed mischievously. "Not leaving much for us, are you?"

As the bottle made its rounds, laughter mingled with the soft lapping of the waves.

Y/N eventually reclined on the blanket, her body sinking into the warm sand. She let out a contented sigh, her heart brimming with affection for the two men beside her.

"You two..." Her voice was soft and her eyes were glassy, "I adore you both."

Ringo's eyes crinkled at the corner as he smiled. "Oh, we know, love," he replied, his fingers brushing against hers as he took back the bottle. "And we adore you too."

"Adoration? That's a strong word, love." George teased.

She sighed, "I have wishes for a future, you know."

Ringo raised an eyebrow, "Are they modest wishes?"

George chimed in with a chuckle, "Perhaps a holiday on the moon next?"

George, his embrace still snug, seemed to have lightly succumbed to the wine, his movements more languid.

She laughed with them, her heart swelled with affection, "Something like that."

A sigh escaped her lips as she shifted on the blanket, the world a blur of sensations. "I mean, I wanna stay here forever," she confessed, her voice a hazy murmur.

George and Ringo exchanged a funny glance, Y/N's brows furrowed.

"I'm serious," she insisted.

Ringo's voice cut through the moment, "Shall we head inside?" She and George shared a look then nodded in unison.

The trio gathered their things, and Y/N slipped an oversized shirt over herself, George's hands helped her into the fabric.

As they made their way inside, Ringo made his way up the trail swiftly. George's hand found hers, his gaze warm.

In the quiet moment as they followed behind, she found herself reflecting on their relationship. It was wholly unconventional, yes, but it was theirs, and she cherished it deeply and hoped they did too.

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

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sw33tsuccubus · 7 months

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𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐵𝑜𝓎𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹𝓈

𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: 𝓌𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓉’𝓈 𝓁𝒾𝓀𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝒶 𝓅𝑜𝓁𝓎𝒸𝓊𝓁𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝑅𝒾𝓃𝑔𝑜 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒢𝑒𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑒

Needless to say, it’s chaotic.

George isn’t very affectionate, though he loves giving big hugs and holding your guys’ hands. Ringo can be quite clingy sometimes, sitting in one of your guys’ laps and hugging you. Sometimes Ringo pulls one of you onto his lap and kisses at your neck. George normally laughs when he sees it happen to you, walking over to you two and cupping your cheeks to give you a kiss.

George doesn’t sleep with a shirt. Ringo sleeps with matching pajama sets. Sometimes Ringo asks if the three of you can match. George normally doesn’t want to, but if you want to then the two of you can easily convince him. If it’s an average night, you can easily get your hands on one of George’s shirts to sleep in. Ringo loves being sandwiched between you two to fall asleep, head on your shoulder and holding onto your hands while George spoons him.

Ringo can get jealous easily. George doesn’t care often, but it’s funny seeing people call George cute and Ringo’s eyebrows furrow. Ringo can be protective of you two, but he’s too sweet to actually do anything. If anyone is doing any talking to someone, it’s George, though it could be you sometimes.

They love having you on the set while they’re filming a movie. When the camera isn’t on them, they smile in your direction. They sometimes have trouble not reaching for the others hand while filming, but it’s mostly smooth. They try to involve you, convincing the others to have you play an extra.

Some dates they take you on can be very fun. Renting out a whole room in a theatre, just for the movie to be crappy. Going exploring through cities while trying not to be spotted. Once Ringo tried to initiate a three way kiss under the Eiffel Tower when George tried kissing you. The three of you laughed afterwards, moving into a group hug.

When their hair grows out, Ringo loves having his played with. He sits as still as possible while you run your fingers through it and try to style it while George kisses him. Ringo offers to style George’s hair, but the latter denies.

Secretly, George loves when the two of you team up against him. It’s cute to him, seeing you guys tackle him into a cuddle pile or kiss his cheeks and try to initiate something. George often grabs one of you and lifts you up, smiling teasingly and asking why you thought you had a chance.

#ringo starr x reader #george harrison x reader #ringo starr #george harrison #gn reader #beatles x reader

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thebeatles-world · 6 months

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Masterlist

Here is Masterlist's of imagines that I have written!

Paul:

Feelings Paul, Y/N and George Love Trangle: Part one

Feelings: Part Two

George:

Eternal Flame: Part One

Eternal Flame: Part Two

Feelings Part One

Feelings Part Two

Never Let Go Part One

I still want you

Free Bird

Free Bird Part 2

John:

Tough Love Part One

Tough Love Part Two

Girl

Ringo:

Help!

Caring Part One

Picture Perfect series:

Picture Perfect Part One

Picture Perfect Part Two

Picture Perfect Part Three

Picture Perfect Part Four

Picture Perfect Part Five

The Letters Part One

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seaside-rendezvous-w · 10 months

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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

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“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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lick-me-lennon22 · 3 days

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How they'd react to you fainting

(thank you anon for this request !! it was fun to imagine how each of our boys would react in this situation 💕 I hope you all enjoy)

John

at first, John is convinced you're pulling a joke on him

he'd smirk and snicker, saying something along the lines of "If you wanted my attention you could've just asked, y'know"

when he fails to get a response from you, he'd kneel down and lightly tap your cheeks in an attempt to get you to snap out of it

"Hello...? Anyone home?"

however, when you don't immediately come to, his demeanor would shift to that of concern

John would become incredibly anxious and pace back and forth, muttering curses under his breath

"Oh, shit... Christ... don't go dyin' on me now"

he'd place his hands on your shoulders and give you a gentle but panicked shake

when he sees your eyes begin to flutter open, he sighs in relief

John would stand up and clear his throat, trying his best to regain his composure and tough exterior

he'd slip back into his usual playful banter, jokingly blaming his own charm for causing you to faint

however, you can hear the concern hidden behind his teasing as his voice wavers ever-so-slightly

you laugh weakly, reassuring him that it just happens sometimes and telling him you'll be okay

regardless, he would be extra clingy for the rest of the day, remaining vigilant to make sure you really are all right

Paul

upon seeing you begin to faint, Paul is caught completely off-guard

he'd let out a shocked gasp (or perhaps a bit of a girlish shriek) and try his best to catch you

he'd react quickly but calmly, cradling you in his arms and calling your name to try and bring you back to consciousness

"Y/N? Are you there, love? I'm right here"

he'd reassure you, stroking your hair and fanning your face gently in an attempt to wake you

he would maintain his composure for your sake, but on the inside he's deeply concerned to see you like this

Paul would make sure you're comfortable, humming softly to soothe you until you came to

you'd open your eyes to the sight of him hovering over you, his expression softening as he realizes you've finally awoken

"Easy now, darling- no need to faint on my account" he'd jest, trying to lighten the mood

he'd fret over you for the rest of the day, offering you everything you could possibly need and treating you even more like royalty than he already does

George

George would be a bit more composed in his reaction, but his concern would be just as strong

he would kneel beside you, checking your pulse and making sure your breathing is steady

he would display a sense of urgency, assessing the situation to the best of his ability

when he's certain you're stable, he would fetch you a cool cloth and place it on your forehead

he would call your name gently, trying his best to create a peaceful atmosphere to cause you as little undue stress as possible

he'd place a steady hand on your shoulder to provide a sense of safety and security for you, even subconsciously

when you finally wake up, George smiles softly down at you

"Good morning, sunshine. I brought you a little something"

he'd hold up a glass of water, which you'd gladly take as you sat upright, leaning against George while he rubbed gentle circles into your back

Ringo

when he sees you start to become lightheaded, Ringo is already visibly shaken

his intuition immediately kicks into overdrive

he'd place his hands on your shoulders and steady you as much as he can, gently laying you down on the couch when you've finally lost consciousness

he would hover around you nervously at first, unsure of what to do

with trembling hands, he'd check your vitals to make sure he doesn't need to call for immediate medical attention

once he's sure you'll be alright, Ringo would hold your face in his calloused hands, caressing your cheeks with his thumbs

he'd lean down and pepper your face with gentle kisses, hoping the sensation will bring you back to wakefulness

when he hears you giggle from the ticklish feeling, he'd let out an immediate and heavy sigh of relief

he would pull back and look down at you with a comforting smile

"Oh, thank goodness you're alright. What would I ever do without you?" he says lightheartedly, but you hear the sincerity in his voice

you reach your arms up and wrap them around his neck, pulling him in for a long, appreciative kiss

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japage3moondog · 8 months

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Headcanons on how the beatles would take care of their partner when they're sick?:)

sure! i was actually sick for like two weeks before this so pretty good timing anon :)

john lennon

john is the one who got you sick. he doesn't like staying home or resting, he only really wants to go out and do things when he shouldn't. he's very reluctant to admit that it's his fault.

he doesn't keep any medication, so he makes you home remedies to hold you off until he can go down to the pharmacy and buy you some proper medicine. his chicken noodle soup is terrible but this man knows how to make a cup of hot tea.

paul macca

as soon as he finds out your sick, he will forbid you from leaving your bed. he doesn't care what he needs to cancel, he'll take care of you until you're 100% better and then some. he already keeps basic cold and flu meds so he's very prepared for this.

every single day he'll cook you breakfast and bring it to you in bed. the only time he lets you up is when he has to wash the sheets and even then he carries you to the couch. as someone who's been worked to the bone, rest is something he values a lot and he wants to make sure you rest when you need to.

george harrison

george really doesn't want to get sick but he can't help but hold you. if you tell him to leave you alone so he doesn't catch what you have, he'll tell you some adorable corny shit like love is the greatest cure. he is not as happy when he gets sick.

he definitely leans more into the natural rememdies but he still takes you to the doctor to make sure it's just a cold. he cuts you little orange slices and makes you lemon and ginger tea with honey. he makes you a home remedy that his mother taught him.

ringo starr

i feel like ringo also got you sick and while he tries to take care of you he gets sick again, so you're both terribly ill but love each other too much to spend the time apart to get better.

not being able to sing without wrecking his voice makes him sad because that's his favourite way to comfort you. so he puts on a record you both know the words to and lip syncs it to you, if you're not both completely exhausted he'll dance you around the living room to cheer you up.

#john lennon x reader #paul mccartney x reader #george harrison x reader #ringo starr x reader #the beatles x reader

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okwritingandpain · 10 months

Text

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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all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney · 1 month

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Baby It's You (Teen!John Lennon x Teen!Female!Reader)

A/N: Hello! Yes, I'm alive, and yes, I know I haven't posted anything original on this blog in over 3 years, but that's gonna change!

Thank you all for sticking around so long, my life did a 180 about a month or so ago and now I can get back to one of the things I love doing most: giving you all some juicy fanfiction to enjoy!

I've had an influx of enthusiastic followers and readers on my last oneshot ask for more writing, and I will be delivering! I have upcoming Paul and George oneshots underway; but first, I think it's time we show John a little love!

P.S. we'll probably consider this an AU fic since John went to private school, and he is going to school with the reader in this one. Sorry for the lack of authenticity in advance!

Summary: Your friend, John, invites you to the first Fair of the year with the intentions of evolving some spontaneous behaviour within you. You find just the thing there to prove to John just how daring and fun you could be-- and then things go sideways.

WARNINGS: This has been sitting in my notes FOREVER so I wouldn't be surprised if there were typos.

Also, there is a heteronormative behaviour in this fic because of the time it was set in, but I want to disclaim that LOVE IS LOVE and I, in no way, support heteronormative/ anti LGBTQ+ behaviour. Love who you want to love; just be happy doing so<3

Also Also, she is a LONG one like the other oneshot, so I advise you read this when you've got some time on your hands!

Swearing is almost a certainty at this point, but no really mature themes, so a T rating is probably enough for this one.

It was a hot Friday afternoon, at the very end of the school year; and there were hundreds of telltale signs:

The teacher was well over his curriculum and he sat at his desk reading a book in silence, student-made work was no longer strewn about on the walls, the classroom was humid even with everyone fanning themselves and each other; and the students...

You could tell the students were just dying to get home for the summer.

There were five minutes left on the clock, and you sat at your desk packing your things away. You spent the last hour doodling, but you wanted to be ready to take off as soon as the bell sounded.

As you zipped your bag up, you saw a little flash of white in your peripheral, and when you glanced back at the surface of your desk, you noticed a folded piece of paper-- a note!

You looked around briefly, but no one indicated to you where to pass it, so it had to have been for you.

And if the note was for you, then there was only one person it could have been from.

You unraveled the little piece of paper, revealing the question the paper possessed.

"Fair? Tonight? -yours truly"

That evening in particular, the local fair was going to erect itself in the biggest park in town, and everyone at school was going to be there. What better way to blow off steam at the end of a long year of hard work?

You shook your head at his pathetic complimentary close, your eyes rolling to the back of your head so far they almost didn't come back.

The bell rang, and before you could even consider doing anything else with the note, everyone took off out the door, as did you, knowing fully well "yours truly" was going to be waiting for you at your locker.

As you rounded the corner to the hallway your locker was in, you finally caught glimpse of him. He was leaning against it with his arms crossed, one leg over the other as his eyes wandered the other students for your face; and when your eyes locked, his expressionless mouth couldn't help but tighten upwards.

Perhaps his smile was out of kindness, but it was most likely because he was a jokester, and quite frankly couldn't get enough of teasing you.

And now his target was spotted.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you spoke first. "You know how much I hate how you sign these off, right?"

You presented the note in hand adjacent to your head as your face displayed a disapproving cringe, cheeks pink in mild humiliation.

"John, I only ever get notes written from you, so the flowery signoff is unnecessary," you put the note down, pointing at him with a frown.

"That note-passing was so open! You know if the teacher ever caught something like that, he'd make me read it out loud to the class, surely you know I'd die on the spot, and then my ghost will haunt you until you died too!"

His smile only grew wider at your words, almost as if he'd been betting with himself what your response to all of this was going to be.

"Also, you're not even in my last class," you rambled on, "so how you managed to have it smuggled in beats me."

"Oh, come on, y/n, you know you'd love all the attention you'd get out of something like that," he gestured to the paper, and you shook your head before crumpling it into a ball in your hand and tossing it at his head, to which it bounced off, and then was immediately trampled on as other students hurried down the hallway.

The both of you weren't strangers; you frequented playdates with John as children, and then you went to school together, so you basically watched each other grow up. John, for as long as you'd known him, usually displayed confident and sometimes mischievous behaviour towards others that typically you'd find unappealing for a man to display.

"People thinking I'm with you? That is not the kind of attention I'm after."

Not that you ever found John appealing, in any way. He was your buddy; you tolerated his behaviour. That being said, over the years he started lightening up on the harsher jokes with you, opting for more of a platonic flirt more than anything else, finding it was a less harmless way to poke fun at you.

"And the Fair, John? Really?"

The boy shrugged his hands up to defend his suggestion. "What's so bad about the Fair?!"

You rolled your combination into your locker, and he shifted out of the way so you could get into it better once you got it unlocked.

"Nothing's wrong with going to the Fair. Going to the Fair with you on the other hand..." you tisked at him before reaching into your locker to retrieve what binders and books you had left in there. John never used his locker, so he was just waiting on you.

You tossed your bag up over your shoulder once you shoved your books inside, and before John could interject with an if, and, or but, you put your hand up to silence him.

"You left me lost in that fun house--"

"But that was literally ten ago, y/n!"

"Doesn't mean I'm over it!"

You took the lead towards the exit doors, and John followed suit, searching for the right words to convince you to go with him.

"If you go with me tonight, I'll try to win you a stuffed animal,"

"We're doing bribery now, are we?" You smirked, reaching out for the doors and pushing through until both you and John were outside, standing under the sun. It was nice for once for the sun to have been out from behind the clouds.

"Look, you're just always hanging out with your girlies, and I've got my mates, but they're all going to the fair with other people tonight," John started as you both headed to the sidewalk and began to make your way to your place.

"We never really do spontaneous things anymore, just you and I. And, I don't know, growing up a little might have had something to do with it... but it doesn't mean I'm not still your friend, though. I wanna do things with you."

You took John's words into consideration. One thing you really liked about John was that he was passionate, and poetic. You'd seen this reflected in some of his writing before, and he often discussed with you how much he liked music, and how he dreamed that his poems could very well one day soon become songs...

Now, it's not like he spoke the way he wrote, but his thoughts translated to words so quickly and effortlessly, and he, as a speaker, really made you think twice about what he said because he sounded so sure when he spoke.

"... I suppose we have been distant in terms of having fun. I know I won't be able to win an argument with you that studying every other night together is considered 'fun', even though I think otherwise."

You and John both rounded left down the next street, which happened to be where you lived; the benefits of living a block away from school. Your house was coming up, meaning this conversation had to end soon.

"Y/n, of the two of us, it's you who needs to be more spontaneous. Just say yes and come with me tonight."

At this point, you and John had slowed to a stop and were standing at the end of the driveway, facing one another as you pondered whether tonight was going to be spent inside reading and listening to music, or stimulated by exciting noises and lights while you stuffed your face with Carnival delicacies and treats.

"... If I say yes, will I still get my stuffed animal?" You already knew the response as the smile returned to John's face.

You and John made it to the Fair for 6:30, and it was already full of life; children on the rides screaming their heads off, friends competing in mini games like Ring Toss and Balloon Darts, and the smell of popcorn and candy floss swirled through the air.

As you looked around at all of the rides available, you barely noticed John going out of his way to buy tickets for both you and him for the night. When he returned to you, he tried to see if you were looking at a particular ride. "Anything catching your eye?"

"I feel like they have different stuff this year. Like, that one must be new," you pointed to a group a different rides that you'd never seen before. "Let's look around, and if anything looks interesting enough, I say we go for it."

John bought you enough tickets for you both to ride everything anyways, but you two had all night, and nowhere to be the next day, so you agreed to start at one end of the fair, and work your way through it.

The first ride that caught the attention of either one of yous were the Tea Cups.

"Remember the one time I threw up on you on that ride?" You asked John with a little smile, to which he replied without a beat,

"And then I threw up on you and caused a chain reaction with all of the other kids on the ride?"

You both laughed and cringed at the rather unpleasant memory before John kindly took your elbow and pulled you towards the ride gently, knowing full well that your matured stomachs would be able to handle it now, and your moving feet indicated you weren't objecting the idea of getting on.

"We gotta start the fun somewhere, Love. After you," John presented four tickets to the ride operator, and you chose your favourite colour cup to climb into.

"If you just don't spin the cup, we'll make it out of here safe," you warned John with a joking wagging finger, and he saluted to you respectfully as he closed the hatch to the cup and took a seat next to you.

"Don't worry, we won't meet the same fate as last," he grabbed the wheel at the centre of the cup as if to indicate he was going to steady it the whole time, and you were excited to see how well he'd do; and even more excited to make fun of him when he did a bad job.

The ride shot to life, and as the cups began dancing around in different patterns, you watched in amusement as John tried his very hardest to keep the cup from spinning; his attention sometimes turning to you, and he watched as your hair whipped around your smiling face as the ride threw the both of you around.

Your beating heart was building up adrenaline as the ride spun on. You suddenly threw your hands overtop of John's, and his eyes shot up to you, hands going slack on the wheel, and you took that moment to whip the cup around as hard as you could, the world becoming a blur around you, and your energy within escaping in a bound of squeals and giggles.

John couldn't help but join in, your laughter was contagious, and the excitement he felt seeing you having fun made his heart ache a little, but in a good way.

The ride was over much sooner than the either of you would have liked, the both of you combing your fingers through your hair to appear more presentable as your tea cup came to a complete stop. John opened the door for you, and you both continued on on wobbly legs to see what else the Fair had to offer.

After a few carnival games and slow, paced rides, you finally grab John by the wrist after he suggests doing something you'd rather do later so he didn't take off too far.

"I think we should do the Ferris Wheel, John," You dropped his wrist and pointed to the ride in the distance behind him, his eyes following your gaze to it.

"Come along, then," it was now his turn to grab your wrist, and lead you along.

That was one unspoken rule you had with John: he never held your hand. You weren't sure why, and you didn't really care-- you didn't want to hold his hand. You just always settled on the idea John was really committed to the joke about not wanting to get Cooties; and honestly, you respected his devotion to the joke.

Your wait in line to ride the Ferris Wheel was a short one, and your chest filled with excitement yet again as you and John took your seats and the ride operator strapped you in.

As the ride filled with other people, you and John slowly made your way to the very top of the ride, allowing yourselves to take in the view of the Fair that seemed to stretch forever.

"We really should have done this first so we could have seen everything all at once," you said, peering down at some of the unrecognizable stands and rides surrounding you both. One in particular caught your eye, and it was in the shape of a space ship from those cartoons depicting the future.

"We definitely have to check that one out," you pointed to it, and John nodded his head in agreement.

"It seems to be right by the games and food. We'll grab some candy while we're in the area."

"And...?"

"And I'll win you that prize, yeah yeah yeah, I know what I promised."

The Ferris Wheel then took off, and you and John savoured the ride, watching the sun slowly fall towards the horizon, the most beautiful colours painted across the sky.

"I'm glad you convince me to come with you, Johnny. I'm having loads of fun. Thank you," you didn't shout, just loud enough that John could hear, and he smiled at you.

"Like I said, if anyone needs to be more spontaneous, it's you. If I can fix that in any way, I'll take the chance," you smiled back at his words, turning your full attention back to the sky as the ride began to slow, knowing this moment, like everything else, was going to come to an end.

You and John were on a mission to get over to the space ship, passing by a bunch of other rides and games you pointed to and indicated aloud along the way that they were on your To-Do list that evening.

As you approached what you two initially thought was a ride, you discovered that the rocket was actually just a still building. There were two lines entering the ship, and there were a few people in each line.

One of the Fair Staff was walking by, and John stopped him before he went too far. "Hey, what's this one all about?"

"Cosmic Hearts is a matchmaking activity we just added! You're matched with someone of your preference in the other line anonymously, and you both enter the rocket. You spend two minutes in the dark together, and then you leave together when the doors open, revealing who you've matched with. You can also think of it as a two-way Kissing Booth."

The staff member looked at the both of you before adding on slowly, "established couples usually don't use that one..."

"Oh, you must be mistaken, we're not--" John couldn't even correct the guy before he was walking away again. You looked from John, back to the metal space ship. The guys standing in line weren't bad looking at all.

"... I wouldn't mind spending two minutes in the dark with any of them," you thought aloud, noticing that each person in line had at least one unique physical attractive quality.

"Yeah, well I'd be worried they'd be touchy with you. In the dark and all," John huffed, shaking his head at the picture he painted himself, and you bursted out laughing.

"What, so you're my chaperone now? Going in there is knowing full well you're going to have hands all over you. Maybe I want to be squeezed up a little, Johnny, is there any harm in that?"

"I mean," John's face flushed a rosy pink before shutting his eyes and shaking his head again, as if that was going to stop his imagination from doing what an imagination does.

"That's.. not something I want to picture."

"Well look, you don't have to anymore," you took John's arm and pulled him towards one of the game stalls close by. "But you do have to try to win me that stuffed bear. We all know that's what I came for in the first place."

The distraction you set up was a good one. The game you brought John to was pretty much just Balloon Darts but forest- themed. You watched as John tried his very best to aim his darts, but he just couldn't quite seem to make the mark for that bear.

The fifth round came and went, and John was still slapping more tickets down. You knew it didn't help that John was legally blind and flat-out refused to wear his glasses, but you weren't about to start an argument with him over that.

After John used up the rest of his darts from that round, he looked over at you with frustration and he sighed. "Look, I might just need a quick break," John took the tickets from inside his pocket, and placed them in your hand.

"I'm running to the loo, it's just on the other side of the park, just hang out here, play a round... or four... and see if you're a better shot than me,"

"I'm always a better shot than you, Lenny," you called to him as he disappeared in the crowd, waving back to you as if to acknowledge your cocky response.

You went to turn back to the game, but something stopped you. You took a quick glance over your shoulder, and eyed the lineup at the rocket ship. You couldn't believe how good looking the people in the lineup were, you could only imagine what the mystery people in the second line looked like.

And then John's words from earlier became apparent in your head, statement ringing in your ears.

"Y/n, of the two of us, it's you who needs to be more spontaneous."

You furrowed your brow as you thought about this decision you were about to make. The closest lineup to you wasn't long at all, and before you knew it, your feet were pretty much walking themselves up to the line.

There was a girl about your age doing the matching for your line, and she met your gaze after letting the next person in. She grinned, and approached you.

"Hello! Welcome to Cosmic Hearts, do you know how we work?"

"Sort of... I just don't know how the matches are made."

"Oh, it's no worries, we do that all for you! We only really take the girl's request for preference types, and then we match accordingly from the other line. Is there something in particular you want about your match? Looks? Behaviour?"

You raised an interested eyebrow, skeptical about how accurate your preferences would be in terms of the match.

That being said, it was just an elaborate kissing booth, it's not like you were using the stall to find the love of your life-- no, you were looking to prove to John that you could be daring, that you weren't as boring as he maybe thought.

"Look, girl-to-girl here, I trust your judgement in choosing me a good-looking guy..." your voice tapered off for a moment before you added, " I just might want someone who doesn't seem too overconfident."

The Match Girl smiled wide, and gestured toward the door to the spaceship with her hand, pushing it open to let you in. You were the next girl in line, and the boys in the lineup watched as you took a deep breath and moved in.

As you walked toward the threshold of the dark room, Match Girl filled you in on the instructions.

"The other side of the curtain will be your 'contact area', only walk through when you hear the other door close; that'll mean he's inside as well. You'll have two minutes alone together, at which point we will open the central door and let you both out"

Your heart began to quicken. It didn't really occur to you until now that you were about to make out with a complete stranger in the dark, and leave that spaceship hand-in-hand just to prove to John wrong about you lacking in as much fun as he thought.

But this impulsive plan of yours also excited you a lot.

Maybe by the end of the night, you'd be leaving with a boyfriend, and telling John that you told him so.

You took your final step into the rocket, and your heart pounded against your ribcage as it all went dark.

After about thirty seconds of silence, you heard some shuffling from the other side of the curtain, and then a simple, "your two minutes start now," from the staff.

Your heart was beating so loud, you could hear the blood flowing in your ears. Your remaining senses enhanced, provided your lack of vision, and you followed the wall to the right with your hand, past the curtain, and you could feel an immediate change in temperature in the room.

You were much warmer now, hyper-aware of the fact that you were sharing body-heat with whoever the staff matched you with. You had to relay it in your head a few times what this actually meant for you. It meant that the stranger in this room with you was going to get to know you quite intimately in a pretty short amount of time.

This made you think a moment or two about the other party in this situation: The Stranger. What was his story? Was he dared to jump in line by his buddies to get some action? Maybe his story is that he just wanted to have his first kiss to get it just done and over with, or maybe he, like yourself, was just doing it for the Hell of it.

Whatever the reason, you felt you owed it to them to give them a decent snogging.

Your hand continued to drift along the wall before your thumb bumped into another hand. You gasped quietly, knowing you were close to the stranger, just not exactly sure of where abouts until now.

You lifted your hand off the wall at the same time as him, and as to not lose you, he made sure to reach out and take your hand in his gently, seeming more like an offer than a demand, which you took, admittedly rather nervously, especially when his other hand reached out to grab the other hand at your side.

Something was just so thrilling picturing so many renditions of handsome young men in your head, mixing and matching what he looked like based on what you could feel. His hands were larger than yours, and his fingers were calloused.

He played guitar, or bass, or something, and you knew this because John played, and you remember him telling you once that the strings were really hard on the hands, and you could just tell by looking at his hands that he wasn't joking.

You just thought the feeling was such a contrast against your own hands, which were soft and untouched, and you were sure with the way this guy was running his thumbs over your palms, and the pads of your fingers, he was admiring the contrast as well.

You almost wanted to say something to him about it, but he had you stuck in a trance, especially when he let your hands go for a moment to gently feel up your arms for your shoulders. You tried your best not to be too reactive, but you couldn't help the goosebumps trailing after his touch.

His hands moved up, and you felt his fingertips graze the crooks of your neck and then up under your jaw.

Neither of you spoke, this moment too intimate for the silence to break. You and he breathed so shallow, it was hard to even believe there was someone in the room with you.

But there was, and his fingers traced your jawline slowly, one hand deviating up to cradle the back of your head while the other gently traced around your chin.

Your lips parted, your own hands reaching out for his waist so you had some idea of where he was in front of you. Your fingers found his jacket, and as you tightened your hands around the leather, you felt him move a little closer as his thumb finally found its way to your bottom lip.

You felt his breath on your face, and you held your own, squeezing your eyes shut when you realized they had been wide open the whole time.

And finally, after what seemed like too long, his thumb disappeared and he replaced it with his own lips.

The kiss was soft, and not pushy at all, but you were tense like a rock under his touch from how nervous you actually were, and you just kept still.

He pulled away for a moment, and you could feel your face burning. That was not the kind of note you were going to leave on. Whoever this was, he had clearly gotten your attention, and you needed to return the favour.

Your one hand moved up his chest, over his collarbone and around his neck to pull him back down towards you. Your lips came together again, and you felt him melt into your embrace after an unsure second, hands dropping down to snake around your waist and pull you flush against him.

You sighed against his mouth, and he pushed his tongue past your lips, all of your past worries melting away. You were in heaven, so drunk on intimacy that you forgot what you were even doing in there in the first place. You tried pulling him even closer by the jacket, to which he responded by slowly backing you against the wall, one of his hands dropping to your hip, and the other returning to the back of your head like before.

Your hand behind his neck slipped up into his hair, and he moaned gently when you tightened your fingers up in the strands and pulled a little.

"Yes, Baby..." the words tumbled from his mouth lowly, and you felt a chill shoot right up your spine; you immediately froze up, lips separating as the realization hit you. You felt like you were going to faint.

"John?!" Your question was short, but clear, and you felt your suspicions were all too correct when you felt all of his muscles tense up as well at the sound of your voice.

"...Y/n?!" His voice cracked, body frozen in place like a statue. As were you, grip still tight in his hair and on his jacket.

You were speechless-- you couldn't believe the one you just spent the last minute and a half or so with-- the one with whom you spent the most intimate experience in your entire life-- was John.

The gentle touching, the embracing of the heavy silence, the patient behaviour, the soft kissing, the respect of your boundaries, and the feeling of wanting more-- it was all John.

This was the first time in your life you had ever experienced John in a situation where he didn't have the words he needed to speak at his disposal.

But to be fair, neither did you. What would anyone do in a situation like this?

It became all the more real for the both of you a moment later when the doors opened up, the lights around the rocket ship lighting John's face for you to see, and your face for him. You both sported embarrassing shades of red on your cheeks, and John's mouth just hung open in perpetual shock as he took in the fact that it was you.

After a second, you both came back down to earth, and your hands came zipping off each other so fast, John scratching his head nervously and giving you space from the wall, and you folding your arms over your chest and gripping your biceps tightly with your fingers.

You couldn't even look John in the eye, nor could he with you, let alone speak. You walked out the door, John at your side. The Match Girl waited by the bottom of the ramp, grinning ear-to-ear. If only she'd known.

"Pretty good-looking, huh?" She nudged to you with a wink, and you could feel your face grow hotter as you glanced over to John. You made brief eye-contact, and you cast your eyes straight to the ground when it happened.

You were thinking things about John you never would have before had it not been for that stupid snog box.

"Yes," was all you could say, nodding for the most part and squeaking out a soft thank you to her before you turned on your heel, and beelined straight for the women's room, rushing out to John that you were running to the loo without looking back at him.

You were too focused on finding some cold water to splash in your face, and a quiet space to figure out what to do in this situation; the lights and sounds had your head just spinning, and it was too difficult to concentrate.

The women's room was quiet enough, and when you felt you'd splashed enough water in your face, you went and sat in one of the stalls for a while to break down the situation that just happened, and what you were going to do to fix it.

John was your friend. There was no way you were going to let something like this drive a wedge between you, especially if you just had to explain yourselves. You had your reasons going in there, as did he.

You were just hoping this could be something you could both look back on in the future and laugh.

You took a few sobering deep breaths before leaving the women's room. You rounded the corner, not quite sure where to begin looking for John, but you found you didn't have to go far when a rather familiar set of fingers took hold of your own as soon as you stopped.

You glanced over your shoulder and there he was. He'd been waiting for you the whole time.

And now he was holding your hand.

That's new.

"... Can we talk?" you spoke simultaneously, and you both smiled a little. John still couldn't seem to hold your gaze for too long without needing to tear his eyes away and resort to looking at his shoes, yet he still held a firm grip on your hand.

You'd never seen him like this before. It was sobering to see him without so much confidence.

"Where did you wanna talk? Nowhere's really private here."

"... Did you just wanna get outta here?" As soon as the words left his mouth, your shoulders lowered in relief. You both definitely had enough excitement for the night, and when you nodded your head sheepishly, John gave your hand a little squeeze, gestured you to come with him with his head, and you both headed for the Fair exit.

Your stroll down the town streets were quiet. Nothing was said between you two for the first little while, your strides were slow, your destination was unknown, and your hands were still clasped together. You took in the night air, for the sun had dropped below the horizon while you were in the spaceship, and the temperatures were lower.

You weren't too sure yet how John felt about all of that night's events so far, and what he thought of you. Clearly, based on the fact that his hand was still in yours, some opinion of his had changed.

Was he comfortable holding your hand now knowing it was you who shared such an intimate moment with him? Or was he maybe wanting to break off this friendship with you all because of tonight, and hand-holding was the only way he could think to comfort you?

At one point, John's fingers unraveled from yours, and you both slowed to a stop. He shrugged off his jacket and wordlessly draped it over your shoulders before you pushed your arms up into the sleeves. John tried looking you in the eye again, and he swallowed nervously, face going red yet again.

"John, we need to talk about what happened."

"I know."

You took his hand this time, and guided him to the curb, sitting down together. Your fingers left his, and you both planted your hands at the curb at your sides.

There was silence for a moment as the memories of what happened back at the Fair resurfaced in your minds, what you were both feeling for each other, physically and emotionally, in your literal moments of blissful ignorance...

"Okay. I'm just going to put this out there right now. John, I had absolutely no idea that they matched me with you, or that you were even in line, for that matter." You sighed before continuing on, feeling the creep of warmth washing over your face yet again.

"I jumped in line impulsively when you left because I figured if you came back and you saw me leaving the rocket with a guy, I could prove to you tonight that I can be just as spontaneous and daring and fun as you."

You could see the gears turning in John's head when you finished saying your part, and after a second of putting the pieces together, his eyes widened, and then this wide smile spread right across his face, and, to your utter relief, he started laughing.

And it sounded so different compared to all of the other times he laughed around you. You couldn't quite place exactly what was different this time, but you found it to be more melodic than usual; more genuine. It was like music to your ears.

"I uh, I jumped in line for kind of the same reason." You raised a confused eyebrow, so John elaborated a little more, smile faltering a little as he cleared things up.

"Let me explain; If you saw me leaving the rocket with a girl, I was hoping I could convince you to do something tonight a little out of your comfort zone, like I did with that."

There was your Pièce De Résistance: John's reason for being in there all along was to teach you to live a little. And you were simply in there to live.

"Not that I wanted to see you specifically go through with the spaceship and getting felt up the wrong way, per se, but I just..."

John's words trailed off, and you could tell he was struggling to find words again. So, he decided to take this conversation in another direction.

"Okay, look, y/n, I don't want you to be under the impression that I think you're no fun. It's just not true. I adore you. There's just something about seeing you at the peak of excitement that makes me feel warm inside, like a child. I see this in moments you doubt yourself, but you still take that chance and you come out successful in the end, shining with confidence. I wanted to see you tonight with that same glow. And I would have if I hadn't have made fun in the first place that you were such a bore, so I'm sorry."

John dropped his head down after he finished speaking, and you looked at him for a moment, blinking once before reaching out to rub his back.

"Johnny, there is nothing to be sorry about." He turned his gaze to look at you, and you took some long pauses between your sentences. John was patient, eyes watching your face, and hanging onto every word you said.

"Of all the people I could have ended up with in that rocket tonight, I don't think you have any idea just how grateful I am that it was you in there with me, and not some stranger."

You didn't think you could keep it inside forever just what you thought about John's kissing, but you didn't think you'd give up fifteen minutes after the situation, either.

"John, I've kissed boys before, that's no secret between us; but what is is that I've never kissed a boy the way I kissed you tonight, and the attention you were giving back to me, I thought I nearly fell for you in there, and I had no clue it was even you," you laughed a little, the words feeling funny in your mouth, especially when they were for John's ears, only. Those words elicited red faces from the both of you.

"... I never thought I'd ever be nervous looking you in the eye, but to be quite honest, all that comes to mind when I see your face right now is the bubbling of excitement in my chest, and the feel of my legs going wobbly. God, John, would I be crazy to say I want you to kiss me like that all over again?"

You figured if you didn't throw the opportunity out there, you just might lose the chance to experience what you felt again, even if it meant just one last time in your life. But when John remained silent for longer than you hoped, your confidence began to falter. Perhaps John wasn't so comfortable with you anymore.

"... Would I be crazy?" You asked again, this time just above a whisper. John was the kind of person you expected to laugh something like this off. Perhaps he'd tease you for a moment, but ultimately tell you it was no big deal before gently rejecting you.

Instead, his silence indicated something much different. His eyes darted to your lips for a moment, a hand reaching up to hold the back of your head gently as he glanced up into your eyes.

"Love, if you think you're crazy for thinking that, then what I'm thinking must make me completely mad."

Your heart pounded against your ribcage, and John decided not to waste any more time in reconnecting your lips.

At first it was a little strange, his mouth on yours, but it wasn't in any way unpleasant. You found yourself, before long, snaking your arms around John's shoulders as you pulled him ever closer, your chests now flush as he tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss. You hummed at the contact, but John had to pull away soon after to catch a breath, but he kept your chests flush so he could feel your heartbeat.

The contrast of kissing him knowing full well who he was still didn't change the respect in his movements, and the gentleness of his kisses.

When your eyes met again, you couldn't help but smile nervously at him, biting down on your lip as you noticed his cheeks glowed pink.

"Wow," you sighed.

"I'll say," he responded, one corner of his mouth twitching up into a smirk as the pad of his thumb drew invisible patterns from your cheekbone down your jaw.

That's when your smile began to fall slowly, and John noticed this as he was going to dive in for another kiss.

"What's the matter, Love?"

"... I think I like this too much. I think I like you too much," you said bluntly. The more you and John indulged in what you both physically wanted, the more you realized what you were putting on the line.

"... And is that a problem?" John asked you gently, and you raised your eyebrow, pulling away a little more from the embrace.

"It's a problem because this puts our friendship at risk, John. Every time our lips touch, the harder it is to look at you platonically."

"Then don't look at me platonically anymore," His suggestion was so effortless as you felt his other hand reach up to play with your hair.

"... I never expected tonight to go the way it did. But y/n, the more I think about a situation where it was anyone but me in that rocket with you, the more jealous I'm becoming... The more grateful I am that it was me, too."

John took another moment to bask in the silence before clearing his throat, and looking you right in the eyes.

"My eyes are wider than they've ever been before, and my mind is so clear. Why don't we try dating?" He suggested after a moment of deciding whether to ask in the first place.

"Dating?!" You paused. "John, if anything were to happen to what we have..."

"I know you're scared, y/n. So am I. But... I also believe this can be the beginning of something really great."

John let the hand in your hair drop to his shoulder where one of your hands rested. He gave your fingers a squeeze before he raised your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles.

"We already kind of go on dates, and now that kissing and hand holding is on the list of things we're comfortable with, we might as well just put a label on it."

John paused for a moment. "It's not like we have to scream it from the rooftops unless you wanted to. But... after tonight, it would be a treat to be able to walk around with my arm 'round your waist and proudly announce to the world that you're mine."

That comment of his made you bite back a toothy grin, but your red face really emphasized how his words made you feel. You were expecting a teasing jab from John, but, surprisingly, nothing came. Just hopeful eyes awaiting your response.

"If you're so confident we'll flourish romantically... then I'm with you, Johnny. We'll give it a go. But under one condition!"

John looked at you expectantly.

"You win me that damned stuffed animal tomorrow night, Lenny."

Now it was John's turn to grin, his arms curling around your body and pulling you into a warm embrace as he mumbled "deal" into your ear.

You were once again surrounded by leather, the crisp night air, the single dim beam of light from the streetlamp, and the faintest scent of whatever John's body wash was.

But most of all, you we're surrounded by young love.

You finally supposed that by the end of the night, you did end up leaving with a boyfriend, and telling John that you told him so.

You just had no clue you could kill two birds with one stone the way you had.

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A/A/N: I really hope you guys enjoyed this! I've had it in the works for LITERALLY four years now, and I am just SO glad it can be out in the world now.

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