The Beatles X Reader - Blog Posts

Did you ever think about how hot brian epstein and george martin were? they are my great sexual fantasy honestly

Ringo X Touch Starved!Reader

(calling my touch-starved Ritchie enjoyers !! headcanons + drabble requested by anon 🌟 hope this is just what you needed ✨️)

Ringo is incredibly aware of how touch-starved you are

he makes it a point to offer small, comforting touches whenever and wherever he can

whether it's a soothing hand on your back or a gentle caress of your cheek, he always makes sure you know how much he loves and cares for you

he loves to hold you close when you're together, often resting his head on your shoulder while he presses his chest against your back, the warmth and closeness providing you comfort

Ringo finds these quiet moments of innocent physical intimacy deeply satisfying and sees them as essential to your bond

he loves to surprise you with spontaneous displays of affection, like a quick kiss on the forehead or a lingering hug, especially after a long day

above all, he needs you to know that he's attuned to your feelings and would do anything to see you happy and calm

☆☆☆

It was a lazy Sunday for you and Ringo.

Your shared kitchen was already awake with the scent of fresh coffee and the soft hum of morning activity, gentle rays of sunlight peering through the sheer curtains.

Ringo stood by the counter, preparing breakfast for two with an easy grace. You, still half-asleep, wandered in and leaned against the doorframe. Your eyelids were heavy, but your expression hopeful as you caught a whiff of fresh pancakes.

Ringo glanced over his shoulder, a playful smile tugging at his lips.

"Morning, sleepyhead. Come here."

Without hesitation, he crossed the room and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close. You sighed, burying your face in his chest as he cradled you to him.

"I missed you," you murmured, your voice muffled but sincere.

Ringo's embrace tightened, and he pressed a soft kiss to your hair.

"I'm right here," he said softly. "Always."

He guided you to the kitchen table, gently seating you in a chair and placing a steaming mug of tea in front of you. You thanked him with a grateful smile.

He then returned to his work, effortlessly assembling you both a plate stacked with pancakes, syrup and all. He presented yours to you and sat with his own before reaching across the table, taking your hand in his and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Let me know if you need anything," he said, his eyes tender and attentive.

You smiled, your heart full. "Just you, Ritchie."

Ringo's eyes twinkled with affection, and he reached out to brush a thumb across your knuckles.

"Then you've got all you need."

Ticklish Beatles headcanons !!

(a darling request from anon!! enjoy, dearies ✨️)

John

despite his tough guy exterior, John can't help but burst into laughter when you tickle his sides unexpectedly

he'll try to play it cool at first and brush it off with a snarky comment but his expression always gives him away

a light brush of your hands down his sides can turn him into a giggling mess, much to your amusement

Paul

Paul's most ticklish spot is right underneath his chin

he's notorious for kicking up a storm of laughter when you dare to stroke or gently kiss him there

he can't help but break out in giggles like a schoolgirl, often followed by playful swats and adorable nose scrunches

George

George acts stoic, but his Achilles heel is his neck

a gentle tickle there sends him into fits of laughter, much to your delight as it's quite a departure from his typical demeanor

you like to use this weakness to your advantage, kissing his neck gently to get under his skin and break his composure

Ringo

Ringo's most sensitive spot is his ribs, or right below them

he can't help but squirm and giggle when you tickle him there, sometimes resulting in a playful wrestling match

his ticklishness is legendary among his bandmates, who are always amused when you set him off in their presence

Beatles X Reader who has trouble expressing their emotions

(another lovely anonymous request!! hope you all are having a good week so far :) please enjoy 💞)

John

John would likely use wit and sarcasm to deflect from emotional topics at first

however, internally, he'd be incredibly observant and sensitive to your feelings

he would feel a deep sense of empathy towards you, understanding the struggles of navigating and expressing complex emotions

being quite introspective himself, John would take a patient and understanding approach, creating a non-judgmental space for you to open up gradually through long conversations and shared experiences

he'd be the type to challenge you gently, pushing you out of your comfort zone in a supportive way to help you grow emotionally

while John might struggle with his own emotional expression at times, he'd make a conscious effort to show vulnerability in small, subtle ways, hoping to lead by example and encourage you to do the same

Paul

Paul (always wanting to fix things) would feel a strong desire to help you feel comfortable expressing yourself, wanting nothing more than for you to feel understood and supported

he would use his own experiences to relate to you, gently encouraging you to open up on your own time

he would offer lots of affection and reassurance, showing you that it's okay to be vulnerable and that you are dearly loved and valued by him

Paul may encourage you to engage in activities with him often, using shared experiences as a way to build your trust

he might share his more personal songs or poetry with you in an attempt to connect and inspire you to express your feelings in a similar way

despite his outward confidence, Paul would still have moments of self-doubt, always wondering whether he's doing enough to support his partner

George

George feels a profound sense of appreciation for your complexity and strives to show his respect for your boundaries

he would quietly support and comfort you, offering a sense of calm and stability for you to lean on

George may not push you to express yourself verbally, but would instead encourage you to find outlets for your emotions, offering a perspective that fosters self-reflection and discovery

he might suggest meditation or journaling in an effort to help you become more in tune with yourself and your feelings

George would cherish quiet moments of intimacy with you, like sitting together in silence, holding hands, and simply enjoying each other's presence without the need for words

he is always deeply moved by your rare moments of vulnerability, viewing them as feats of strength and bravery

Ringo

Ringo would be the epitome of patience and understanding, feeling a deep and genuine desire to make you feel validated and cared for

his easygoing demeanor would put you at ease and help create a comfortable atmosphere for you to relax and be yourself around him

he'd suggest activities that allow you to relax - hoping that even if you don't want to talk about your feelings, you're able to shed some weight from your shoulders

Ringo is always there with supportive words or a comforting hug if you need it, without any pressure of opening up

he would make a conscious effort to listen actively when you do want to talk about things, not just waiting for his turn to speak but genuinely taking in what you have to say and validating your emotions without judgment

Ringo would still have his moments of quiet concern, worrying about whether he's done all he can to help you feel secure in your relationship, and would constantly strive to be a better partner

Kid!Beatles X Kid!Reader Headcanons

(thank you to anon for this fun request!! 💞)

John

you and John are known troublemakers in school, often getting scolded for your antics in class and mischief during recess

you're notorious for pulling pranks on your classmates, from tacks on chairs to fake bugs in desk drawers

you bond over your love for doodling, filling notebooks with silly drawings and caricatures of your teachers (and sometimes defacing school property)

despite your friendship, you're fierce rivals on the soccer field, competing against one another in epic matches with bragging rights on the line

you share a secret hideout in the schoolyard where you spend your breaks together, plotting imaginary adventures and sharing your wildest dreams

you have frequent sleepovers consisting of ruthless pillow fights and devious prank calls to every number in the phonebook

Paul

you and Paul spend recess making up silly songs together, singing at the top of your lungs and giggling uncontrollably

after school, you make your way towards your secret treehouse in Paul's backyard to share secrets and imaginary tales, hidden away from the rest of the world

when the weather is nice, you like to go on bike rides around the neighborhood, exploring hidden trails and pretending to be intrepid explorers on a quest for adventure

Paul will sometimes take you to the park with him to birdwatch, armed with binoculars and identification books

you love building things together, crafting beautiful flower crowns and constructing makeshift forts from pillows and blankets

you spend your weekends watching old monster movies and sci-fi classics, munching on popcorn and debating over which film is the best

George

being two of the quieter students in class, you share a special unspoken bond, often writing messages in the margins of your notebooks and sliding it to the edge of your desk for the other to read

speaking of, the two of you are avid readers, spending hours in the school library devouring nonfiction books about dinosaurs, science, and space

George takes on you epic imaginary adventures, pretending to be astronauts exploring distant planets or knights fighting dragons

you like to go on nature walks together, collecting leaves to make rubbings and flowers to press in your scrapbooks

you spend the weekends exploring in the woods behind your houses, searching for hidden treasures and making friends with the creatures that inhabit the forest

Ringo

you're a pair of class clowns, always cracking jokes and performing silly skits to make your classmates laugh during boring lessons

Ringo shares with you his love for percussion, showing you how to use instruments like air guitars and cardboard drums to perform for your friends at lunchtime

the two of you spend countless afternoons playing soccer with your friends in the neighborhood streets, Ringo showcasing his impressive footwork as you cheer him on from the sidelines (and even join in when you're feeling bold)

you're avid comic book fans, spending hours together trading your favorite issues and debating over who would win in a battle between your favorite superheroes

on temperate evenings you'll pitch a tent in Ringo's backyard and stay up all night telling ghost stories, roasting marshmallows over a makeshift campfire, and counting the stars

George Harrison X NB!Reader who struggles with PMDD

(written for anon!! I decided to focus on just geo since I didn't want the reactions to feel too generic. I hope this comes across as respectful as I intended for it to be, and please don't hesitate to correct me on anything regarding PMDD !! I hope this brings you comfort 💗)

George immerses himself in learning about PMDD and becomes intimately acquainted with the intricacies of the condition, seeking to understand its effects on your mental and emotional wellbeing

he spends hours researching and reading articles to gain insight on how best to support you

despite a few generic tips, he ultimately comes to the conclusion that the best thing he can do is listen to you and find out what you need in particular

George encourages you to communicate with him, creating a safe and open space to ensure you feel validated in your feelings and affirmed in your identity

he always offers practical assistance like pulling extra weight when it comes to chores if you're feeling low-energy, ordering or making whatever meal you crave if you're struggling with your appetite, or bringing you a hot water bottle when your pain becomes difficult to manage

together, you sought solace in the guidance of medical professionals, navigating the complexities of diagnosis with determination and resilience

you explored a multitude of treatment options and coping mechanisms to manage your symptoms, eventually landing on a balance that worked best for you

☆☆☆

you, caught in the relentless grip of hormonal fluctuations, often found yourself on the brink of despair in the days leading up to your period

George, with his nurturing spirit, stood as a steadfast source of support and comfort

he had long since learned to recognize subtle shifts in your mood, always offering affirming words and acts of care to ease your burden

one evening, as you felt yourself approaching the precipice of a breakdown, George approached you with a gentle reverence - mindful of the delicate balance between your inner turmoil and his own longing to provide solace

Love, I can sense the weight you carry. Please, let me share it with you.

I don't know, Geo... I just feel like I'm losing control of everything you lamented, burying your face in your hands

I know, darling. I know. You're not alone in this he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to your temple

I'm here for you always.

he held you close as you weathered the storm together, his voice a soothing melody that calmed your troubled heart

and through it all, George's love remained a beacon of light in the darkness - a constant reminder that you are not defined by your struggles, but by the strength with which you face them

Drunk!Hamburg!Beatles X Reader Headcanons

(thank you to @lfrom-thestars for this adorable request!! I hope this lives up to your expectations 💞 enjoy!)

The Beatles collectively become a chaotic force of energy when intoxicated, bouncing off of each other with endless jokes and antics

the liveliness of the Hamburg nightlife only fuels their escapades, their raucous laughter cutting through the conversations of other patrons and earning them glares that go unnoticed in their drunken haze

when you receive the call that they've been kicked out of their fourth bar of the night, you spring into action and come to lead your boys home, cutting them off since they're clearly too far gone to make that call on their own

almost immediately, impromptu performances erupt on streetcorners, drawing crowds of curious onlookers who are captivated by The Beatles' drunken melodies

you somehow manage to shoo them away and steer the boys toward a less populated route

as the night progresses, they become more unpredictable and you soon find yourself herding them like four mischievous puppies, ensuring they stick together and don't wander off into the chaos of the city streets

Ringo is the first to stray from the group, becoming distracted by some spray painted street art on the wall of a nearby building

you gently redirect him, taking him by the hand and pointing to something shiny up ahead, his short attention span already shifting focus to the new object

next to wander is Paul, stumbling over to a bronze statue and beginning to chat it up

he uses his best flirting tactics but the statue, being... well... a statue, is unaffected by his charms

you grab his arm and sling it over your shoulder to steady him as you walk him back over to the other three boys, Paul leaving sloppy kisses all over your face in the meanwhile

when you finally shrug him off, confident he can keep up on his own, he redirects his affection to John

John, all the more rowdy and brash when he's had a few too many, takes issue with this and becomes fired up, shoving away Paul (though he only returns for more)

just as John is winding his arm back, preparing to slug his clingy mate, you place yourself between the two men and act as a mediator

you suggest Paul go and pay a visit to Ringo, who is more than happy to accept his attention, and instruct John to take a few deep breaths

when the dust settles on this little spat, things are seemingly going according to plan and you're quickly approaching the hotel

that is until George, who has become increasingly more talkative in his drunken state, decides the silence isn't cutting it and decides to fill it with philosophical musings

you passify him as best you can, nodding and feigning interest in his nonsensical ramblings until the hotel is finally in sight

George makes it all of ten yards from the entrance when he stops suddenly, doubling over and heaving as you hold his hair back for him

thankfully he's too preoccupied to notice John's laughter at his plight and, after a few pats on the back, you make it safely inside and up to the room with a few sympathetic looks from the staff

the next morning as they nurse their hangovers, you dole out aspirins and glasses of water to the boys and order a hearty breakfast to get them back to their old selves as fast as possible

as difficult as it is to keep it to yourself, you refrain from reminding them of the silly antics they pulled last night, letting them recover with their dignity (for now)

as shitty as they feel now, they're still exhilarated by the unforgettable night you all shared together on the vibrant streets of Hamburg, and are forever grateful for your care

Beatles X Plushie-Obsessed Reader Headcanons 🧸

(requested by anon!! 💞)

John

John teases you about your obsession, but secretly adores your enthusiasm and finds it endearing

he'll sometimes playfully argue with you about which plushie is the "coolest," leading to lighthearted debates and laughter

during his photography sessions, he'll often request to borrow a few of your friends to use as props, creating artsy and whimsical scenes

though he'd never admit it, John secretly enjoys cuddling with your plushies when you aren't around, finding comfort in their softness

Paul

Paul enjoys helping you organize and catalog your collection, creating a sense of order amidst the colorful array of characters

he likes to incorporate them into his home decor, arranging them in playful displays around the house

he will occasionally dress some of the plushies up in miniature versions of his iconic outfits, resulting in adorable photo opportunities

Paul loves to surprise you with thoughtful gestures, like leaving new plushies on the doorstep for you to find or crafting handmade accessories for them

George

George is fascinated by the craftsmanship of your beloved plushies and enjoys learning about the unique characteristics of each toy

he encourages your passion and adds to your collection by gifting you rare and sought-after pieces he finds during his travels

on occasion George has been known to try his hand at crafting a plush of his own, usually resulting in a quirky but lovable creation

Ringo

Ringo loves bringing your plushies to life with funny voices and silly antics

he'll involve them in his daily activities, pretending they're his audience as he practicing his drumming or taking them on the road with him

he's always up for a cuddle session with you and your plushies, often falling asleep surrounded by the fluffy companions

Ringo's genuine affection for you and your passion is evident in the way he treats each toy with care and respect, valuing their role in your life

John Lennon X Insomniac!Reader - Midnight Memories 💤

(here is John's version of the previous prompt requested by anon!! hope you all are having a lovely day or night, wherever you are ✨️)

☆☆☆

John sat cross-legged at his desk, surrounded by scattered sheets of paper and pencil shavings. His fingers danced across the blank page of his workbook, sketching out intricate designs that seemed to materialize from the depths of his imagination.

He rubbed his tired eyes, trying to shake off the fog of exhaustion that threatened to consume him. It was another sleepless night, the hours slipping away like sand through his fingers.

He glanced at the clock, the ever-moving hands seemingly mocking his plight. He knew he should try to rest, but his mind raced with thoughts and ideas, refusing to be silenced. With a frustrated sigh, he pushed himself away from the desk and wandered into the living room.

You were already there, curled up on the couch, the soft glow of the television illuminating the otherwise dark space as you flipped through the channels in search of something to watch. You were suddenly shaken from your dull trance by approaching footsteps. You turned your head to identify the source of the sound, your face drawn with the weight of sleeplessness.

John made his way to your side, perching on the arm of the couch and brushing a lock of hair from your forehead.

"You too, huh?" he asked, his voice tinged with sympathy.

You shook your head with a frustrated groan. "It's like my mind won't shut off."

With a determined nod and no hesitation, John reached for the remote, taking it in hand and aiming it at the television set. He browsed the pay-per-view catalog for only a moment before selecting a beloved classic, one that held a special place in both of your hearts.

As the familiar theme music filled the room, he settled himself on the couch, sinking into the cushions beside you. You curled up next to John, the warmth of his body a comforting presence in the dimly-lit room. Together, you lost yourselves in the world unfolding onscreen, the characters and storyline drawing you in with their timeless charm and offering a welcome distraction from the turmoil of your mind.

With each passing moment the weight of insomnia began to lift, replaced by a sense of nostalgia and familiarity. As dawn approached and the first rays of morning sunshine slipped through the curtains, you found yourself leaning against John's shoulder, the rhythm of his heartbeat a soothing panacea. The gentle hum of the TV droned on, guiding you ever closer to the elusive embrace of sleep.

After a while, John looked down to see your eyelids shut, a peaceful expression gracing your features.

"Sleep well, love," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

As he watched you drift off into slumber at last, John felt a sense of calm wash over him and he settled further into the plush upholstery of the couch. He closed his eyes, letting the rhythm of onscreen dialogue carry him away as he realized that sometimes, the most meaningful moments happen when the rest of the world is fast asleep.

Paul McCartney X Insomniac!Reader - Dream Weaver 🌠

(requested by anon!! John version will be posted soon 💞 enjoy, dearies)

☆☆☆

Paul sat in his cozy study surrounded by stacks of books, a dim desk lamp casting a warm glow on his delicate features. The night was still, the only sound the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze from beyond the room's large stained glass windows. He sighed, glancing at the clock ticking away the hours. It was well past midnight, and it was par for the course for Paul to stay up this late. After all, he'd slept in until nearly noon - as usual.

For you, however, it was a different story. You'd spent last night tossing and turning, desperately trying to soothe yourself to sleep. Your eyes burned with exhaustion, a testament to the restless energy that consumed you. The following day you had trouble staying alert, despite the fact that you'd been wide-eyed and wired just hours ago. You willed yourself to push through your work and studies, groggy and uncoordinated in your movements. You were sure Paul had noticed your decline.

And notice he had. Paul couldn't help but imagine of you, lying awake in bed, struggling in your battle against insomnia. This wasn't new for you, simply another bout of sleeplessness, but it had been particularly brutal as of late.

With a determined sigh, Paul closed his book and made his way to the kitchen. He began to brew a fresh pot of chamomile tea, recalling its calming properties. He listened closely to the soft hum of boiling water, a comforting presence in the quiet of the night. As he waited for the tea to steep, he rummaged through the cupboards in search of a small jar of honey he'd purchased from the farmer's market only days before.

Armed with the tea and honey, Paul shuffled quietly to your shared bedroom and pushed the door open with his shoulder, the stiff wood creaking as he stepped inside. He is welcomed by the sight of you staring up at the ceiling above, your brows furrowed in frustration. You turn to look at Paul, your gaze softening as you smile weakly at him. He walks to the bed and takes a seat beside you, setting the mug and and jar down on the nightstand.

"Struggling to sleep yet again?" he asks gently, stroking your hair. You nodded, a faint frown marring your features.

"It's been tough lately."

Paul nods in understanding.

"I thought you may want a little something to help calm the nerves," he says, stirring a spoonful of honey into the steaming mug of tea and offering it to you.

You smiled gratefully and accepted, closing your eyes and sipping the fragrant brew. "Thank you, Paul. You didn't have to do that."

He shrugged sheepishly, crossing one ankle over the other as the two of you sat in comfortable silence. After a few moments you settled back under the covers, the warmth of the tea seeping into your bones. Paul began to hum a lullaby, a soft and soothing melody that wrapped around you like a cocoon and momentarily eased your stress.

You continued like this for a while, eventually closing your eyes. But inevitably your mind began to wander, your worries returning with more tenacity than before and gripping your mind with the same dreadful anxiety. You shifted positions a few times, grappling for solace in Paul's melodious voice. But finally you sat up, overwhelmed, and placed your head in your hands with defeat.

Paul halted his song abruptly and turned to your hunched-over form, a somber look on his face. "Not doing the trick?"

You sighed and shook your head wordlessly. Paul placed a sympathetic hand on your shoulder and started to brainstorm. After a few moments, his face lit up with playful inspiration.

"How about I tell you a story?"

At first you were taken aback by the suggestion, finding it a tad childish. But, realizing it may be just the thing to occupy your spiraling mind, you nodded and laid back to cozy up once again.

And so, Paul began to spin a tale, weaving a tapestry of adventure and wonder that transported you far from the confines of your bedroom. His voice sweet as the honeyed tea he'd brought you, a soothing balm for your restless soul, each word a brushstroke painting a vivid picture in your mind.

As he spoke, you felt the weight of the world lift from your shoulders, replaced by a sense of enchantment and awe. When Paul reached the end of his story, you found yourself smiling, the edges of sleep beckoning you with gentle hands.

"Thank you, Paul," you murmured, your voice hoarse with exhaustion and barely above a whisper.

Paul smiled back, his eyes sparkling with warmth.

"Anytime, love. Sweet dreams."

At last you drifted off to sleep, cradled in the comfort and magic of a fantastical realm. You felt a sense of peace wash over you, knowing that with Paul by your side, even the darkest nights held a glimmer of hope.

Teddy Boy!John Lennon X Modern!Reader - Smoke & Serendipity 🚬 (Part 2)

(thank you all for the overwhelming amount of love and praise for Smoke & Serendipity!! I hope this continuation lives up to your expectations 💕 enjoy!)

As John's figure disappears down the bustling streets, you're left standing in the alleyway, unable to shake the feeling of excitement and uncertainty swirling in your mind. The invitation to his band's gig at the Cavern Club hangs in the air, tempting you with the promise of adventure in this unfamiliar era.

You glance down at your attire once more, realizing that if you're going to fit in at this gig, you'll need a drastic wardrobe change. With determination powering every step, you set off to find the nearest clothing store, navigating the winding streets with a newfound sense of purpose. The sights and sounds of 1950s Liverpool flood your senses, fueling your excitement for the night ahead.

After what feels like an eternity of searching, you finally stumble upon a quaint boutique tucked away in a corner of the city. The bell above the door chimes as you step inside, greeted by the scent of mothballs and starched fabric. Rows of vintage clothing line the racks, each piece seemingly plucked straight from the pages of a decades-old magazine.

As you sift through the hangers and peruse the displays, your eyes land on a striking ensemble that catches your attention: a sleek leather jacket paired with tailored trousers and a fitted blouse. Eager to try it on, you gather the pieces and head to the fitting room, more than ready to shed your outdated attire in favor of something more fitting for the era.

Emerging from the stall, you catch a glimpse of your reflection in the dusty mirror and marvel at the transformation before you. The leather jacket fits like a second skin, the trousers hugging your frame in all the right places. With a satisfied smile, you pay for your new digs and step out onto the street, feeling like a different person entirely.

With your confidence renewed and your wardrobe updated, you set off once more in search of the Cavern Club, keen to make the most of your unexpected journey through time. You find yourself wondering what adventures await you at the club, and what role John and his band will play in your journey back to the present.

Anticipation builds as you approach the venue, the neon lights of the city illuminating your path ahead. With each step, you can feel the energetic atmosphere around you, the pulse of rock 'n' roll echoing through the air.

Stepping inside the dimly-lit club, the sound of live music spills out into the streets and you're greeted by the sight of a packed crowd, swaying to its rhythm. The air is thick with cigarette smoke and the smell of stale beer, adding to the gritty charm of the underground venue.

You push your way through the throngs of people, scanning the crowd for any sign of John. Finally, you spot him in the corner of the room, his unmistakable silhouette illuminated by the glow of the stage lights.

Making your way over to him, you can't help but feel a surge of excitement mingled with nervousness. You catch his eye, offering a small wave and smile as he greets you with a sly grin of his own.

"Well, well, well. Look who decided to show up," he teases, his voice barely audible over the roar of the crowd.

"I couldn't resist," you reply, raising your voice to be heard over the din. "Besides, I just had to see what all the fuss was about."

John chuckles and nods toward the stage, where his bandmates are now tuning their instruments in preparation for their set.

"Just wait until you hear us play." Smug confidence is evident in his voice, that much is obvious- but just underneath, you swear you can detect the smallest hint of anxiety.

"We're going to blow your mind."

As the band takes the stage and launches into their first song, you find yourself swept up in the electrifying energy of the performance. The pure passion and talent demonstrated in their music resonate deeply with you, transcending the boundaries of time and space. John's voice cuts through the noise, raw and unfiltered, sending pleasant shivers down your spine. Enchanted by the pulsing beat of the drums and the warmth of the crowd, you feel more alive than you ever have before.

Lost in the music and company, you forget, if only for a moment, about the pressing question of how to return to your own time. For now, you're content to simply live in the present (or rather, the past), embracing the adventure and spontaneity of your unexpected journey. But as the final chords fade away and the lights come up, reality comes crashing back down around you.

With a heavy heart, you make your way toward the exit, the echoes of the music still ringing in your ears. But as you step out into the cool night air, a voice calls out from behind you.

"Hey, where do you think you're going?"

John's voice cuts through the darkness and shakes you from your train of thought. You turn to face him, a bittersweet smile playing at your lips.

"I... I have to go," you sigh, your voice wavering with uncertainty. But when you ponder your situation a moment longer, you come to the realization that you haven't considered where you're going to sleep - if you're even able to with everything weighing on your mind.

John snaps you back to attention with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"Sure ya don't! It's Friday night, after all. Unless you just aren't interested in me, which I can't imagine is true." He takes a step closer and quirks an eyebrow at you, awaiting your reply to his bold suggestion.

"Is this your way of inviting me back to your place?"

He shrugs, trying to look nonchalant but secretly hoping you'll accept. You consider the possibility - on one hand, it's another night away from your own time. But on the other, you still have no clue how you'll get back to the present. And in the meantime, a comfy bed and a roof over your head would be nice.

"If so... sure. Why not?" You smile and look to John, whose face lights up as you finally your decision.

"Well, what are we waiting for then?"

John takes your hand in his and pulls you along behind him. You stumble over your own feet as you try to match his pace, giggling all the while.

Though the path back to your own time remains uncertain, you can't help but feel hopeful, reinvigorated with a newfound sense of belonging in this unfamiliar era.

Bug Boys X Reader who has to take exams on their birthday 🎂

(another request submitted by a lovely anon!! hope I'm not too late 💕 happy birthday, love!)

John

he'll try to talk to you while you're studying but realizes you're too engrossed in your books to even lift your head and acknowledge him

he decides to try a different approach, snickering as he scribbles silly (and often dirty) notes onto pieces of paper

he folds them into paper aeroplanes and sails them across the room, almost always striking you in the head

he loves to see the look on your face and hear your laughter fill the room when you open and read them, becoming red-faced and flustered

On the day of the tests, John arrives at your doorstep with a paper bag in hand. "Hey there, birthday braniac! Ready to conquer those exams?"

He hands you the bag and you examine it, realizing he's packed you a homemade lunch. It's just a simple sandwich and some crisps, but it's made with lots of love and he's done his best. He offers his arm to you and you link it with yours as he guides you out of the doorway and down the sidewalk. The two of you wander through the streets, John easing your nerves with playful banter the whole way.

When you reach the exam hall, he squeezes your hand and whispers: "You've got this, love. Knock 'em dead."

Not long after, you come to find he's slipped a note into the lunchbag - a small piece of paper with a shittily-drawn self portrait of him giving you a thumbs up.

☆☆☆

John arrives to pick you up after you've finished, beckoning you toward him and into his arms for a hug. When you pull away, he raises his hand to reveal two tickets to see your favorite band (other than the Beatles, of course) in concert. You squeal in delight and give him a kiss on the cheek. "Happy birthday, love" he says, before taking your hand in his and leading you to the venue to let loose and celebrate.

Paul

in the time leading up to your final exams, Paul ensures that you're well-fed and rested while you study

he knows it can be easy to forget or set aside self-care when you're so intent on cramming

with a gentle knock on the door, Paul enters your room carrying a tray laden with delicious goodies

"I made your favorite! Fuel up, love."

he'll play soft melodies on his piano to provide some background noise and hopefully help you focus

On the day of your exams, Paul pulls up in his sleek vintage car, the soft strains of a love song playing over the radio. With a charming smile, he opens the passenger door and extends a hand to you. "Hop in," he instructs with a flirtatious wink. You drive through the city streets, all the while Paul sings along to the radio and serenades you with sweet lyrics. As you arrive at your destination, he leans in close and presses a gentle kiss to your cheek. "You're going to do brilliantly, love."

☆☆☆

Once you're finished he arrives to pick you up, a bouquet of fragrant flowers in hand. You approach him, smiling softly, and he places a gentle hand on the back of your neck to pull you into a passionate kiss. "Happy birthday, darling."

You begin to notice he's taking a familiar route, realizing at last that he's brought you to your favorite restaurant for a romantic candlelit birthday dinner. You enjoy a three-course meal along with dessert, heading home to end the day with some cuddles and relaxation.

George

throughout the weeks leading up to your exams, George helps you stay centered and focused while you study

he'll enter your room in silence and sit down beside you, handing you a steaming cup of herbal tea

"Feeling nervous?" he asks softly, and you nod

"Remember, this is just a temporary challenge. Focus on the present and let your intuition guide you."

he provides a sense of calm and serenity amidst the chaos of cramming and deadlines

George doesn't "help" you study, per se, but tries to manifest a good outcome for you

in his mind's eye, he envisions you stepping into the exam room with confidence and determination, ready to tackle any challenging questions that may come your way

When the day comes, George arrives at your door with a single red rose in hand, a shy smile playing on his lips. "I thought you may need a bit of a good luck charm," he says playfully, offering you the rose. He takes your free hand in one of his, squeezing it gently.

Together, you walk through the quiet streets, George's presence a source of comfort and security. As you come up on the exam hall, he gazes into your eyes and speaks softly. "You've got this, dear. I believe in you."

☆☆☆

When George arrives to collect you after your exams, he walks up to greet you. With a gentle touch, he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear and gives you a soft kiss. "Well done, gorgeous. Happy birthday."

As he walks, you fall into step behind him, telling him all about your experience and how you feel the tests went when the two of you come upon a strange dome-shaped building. He's taken you on a surprise trip to the planetarium! The calming visuals and dark atmosphere help you to relax as you fixate on the captivating show. George knew just what you needed to unwind and celebrate at the end of a long and stressful day.

Ringo

when you tell him about your upcoming finals, Ringo helps you to organize your study materials and create a schedule

he wants to make sure you still have time for fun and relaxation during this hectic time

he'll eagerly offer to be your study buddy if you need someone to read material aloud or quiz you

he makes the most adorable flashcards, complete with colorful pictures to help you remember complicated subjects

Ringo brings a sense of joy and lightheartedness to your study sessions that helps you destress and shift focus away from your worries

When the day finally arrives, Ringo pulls up on his motorcycle, the engine rumbling softly beneath him. With a cheeky grin, he offers you a helmet and gestures for you to hop on.

Together, you ride through the winding roads, the wind whipping through your hair. Ringo's laughter and singing fills the air, and his carefree attitude puts your mind at ease like nothing else can.

As you pull up to the exam venue, he smiles warmly and leans in close. "You're going to ace this, love. Just remember, I'll be waiting to celebrate with you after."

☆☆☆

When you're finally finished, you exit the building with a deep breath followed by a sigh of relief. Ringo speeds around the corner on his motorbike, coming to an abrupt stop in front of you. When he finally stalls and you're able to getter a better look, you notice that numerous bags hang from the handlebars, filled with colorful tissue paper. "Happy happy birthday, sweetheart!" he calls, offering the helmet to you once again and motioning you to take your seat behind him.

You arrive home to even more gifts scattered about your dining room table, a lone cupcake in the middle with a candle planted firmly in the center. A giant teddy, seated in one of the chairs, wears a striped party hat. The remainder of the evening is filled with hugs and kisses as you unwrap the many thoughtful gifts Ringo has picked out for you, cherishing each and every one.

Beatles X Assistant!Reader headcanons

(requested by a lovely anon :) enjoy, loves 💕)

John

John finds himself increasingly drawn to your quiet efficiency as the band's assistant. He admires your intelligence and wit, and he can't help but feel a flutter in his chest whenever your eyes meet. He'll start finding excuses to linger in your office, hoping for a chance to make you laugh with one of his dry quips.

John will go out of his way to do little things that make your life easier, offering to carry your heavy bags or lend a listening ear when you've had a frustrating day.

He finds himself unable to resist the urge to tease you whenever the opportunity presents itself - purposely misplacing items just so he can watch you furrow your brow in concentration as you search for them, only to reveal their location with a mischievous grin.

Despite his playful demeanor, there's a softness in his gaze whenever he looks at you, a warmth he can't explain or ignore.

Paul

Paul is enchanted by your radiant beauty and warmth. He often finds himself seeking you out just to chat, whether it's about music, life, or anything in between. He loves the way you listen attentively to his ideas and offer thoughtful insights of your own.

His feelings for you are like a symphony playing in his heart, each note building upon the last until it becomes impossible to ignore.

Paul is captivated by your presence, drawn to the way you move with grace and purpose. There's a tenderness to his touch whenever he reaches out to brush a stray lock of hair from your face, a silent confession.

And though he may not realize it at first, there's a depth to his feelings for you that goes beyond mere admiration - it's a love that's as timeless and enduring as the music he creates.

George

George is intrigued by your quiet confidence and mysterious aura, and finds himself drawn to you like a moth to a flame. He begins to notice the little quirks and habits that make you unique and starts to seek out opportunities to spend time with you, whether it's sharing a cup of tea during a break or asking for your opinion on a new riff he's been working on.

He's fascinated by the glimpses he catches of your true self beyond your professional exterior, and he can't help but want to know more about you.

George will often linger near your workspace, pretending to be absorbed in his own tasks while secretly stealing glances in your direction.

Though he may not show it outwardly, there's a gentleness in his touch whenever your hands accidentally brush, a silent acknowledgement of the growing connection between you.

Ringo

Ringo is captivated by your infectious energy and zest for life. He loves the way you bring a sense of fun and spontaneity to the band's work and finds himself gravitating toward you whenever he needs a pick-me-up, cherishing the moments you spend laughing together.

Ringo's affection is evident in small gestures he makes, bringing you a fresh cup of tea without being asked or leaving a silly doodle on your desk just to make you smile. He'll suggest you grab a bite to eat together after a long day in the studio, relishing the opportunity to see you in a more relaxed setting.

Despite his easygoing nature, there's a vulnerability in his eyes whenever he looks at you, a longing that he struggles to conceal. He starts to realize that he feels happiest when you're around and he can't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, you feel the same way about him.

How they act when they're in love, but haven't confessed yet

(here is the second request fill for the previous anon !! sorry to keep you waiting ✨️ I hope this is what you had in mind!)

John

John is openly affectionate and flirtatious with you and will do anything he can to get your attention

he's also the embodiment of the "if he pulls your hair, that means he likes you" trope

he'll engage in playful teasing and banter with you, trying his best to get under your skin

in conversation, he'll make subtle references to shared interests or inside jokes, showing that he pays close attention to your preferences

John often slips you silly handwritten notes or doodles to make you giggle and blush

he invites you to rehearsals and recording sessions in an attempt to impress you with his songwriting prowess and musical talent

he'll send you handwritten letters or postcards when on he's tour to let you know he's thinking of you, showing a bit of his softer side

Paul

Paul is more traditional in his approach, doing things like writing anonymous love letters and complimenting your style of dress

he initiates subtle gentlemanly displays, like holding the door open for you or offering to share his umbrella on a rainy day

when you're near he'll find reasons to touch you casually, brushing against your arm or offering a reassuring pat on the back

even from across the room, he's always gazing longingly at you or shooting winks in your direction

Paul makes an effort to remember small details about your life like your coffee order or the names of your pets

he'll even dedicate songs to you during live performances, using the stage as a platform to subtly declare his affection

George

George prefers a subtler approach rather than grand gestures and is somewhat shy about showing his affection

however, this doesn't mean he's any less in love with you

he'll share meaningful glances and smiles with you from across the room, conveying his affection and admiration in a subtle yet powerful way

when he's feeling bold he'll find excuses to be near you, positioning himself strategically to create more opportunities for chatting

George always shares new books and music with you when he discovers something he thinks you might like

he'll ask about your interests to find common ground and reasons to spark up a conversation

he plays you demos or rough cuts of new songs he's working on, showing you that he values your opinions and seeking your approval in a display of trust and vulnerability

Ringo

Ringo is a bit more shy than the other lads when it comes to his crush

he'll joke around and be playful with you, willing to do anything to make you smile

he'll try his best to act naturally and be himself, wanting you to feel comfortable around him

he always finds reasons to spend time with you (like inviting you to see shows with him), seeking out opportunities for one-on-one interaction

Ringo often gifts you small tokens of appreciation like snacks or trinkets as a subtle way of expressing his feelings

he favors physical displays of love, afraid he will trip over his words or become tongue-tied if he tries to express his feelings through language

he'll mirror your body language and gestures, subconsciously displaying his affinity for and connection with you

he always notices subtle changes in your mood or behavior, demonstrating his devotion and offering support and comfort when you need it most

Beatles X Model!Reader Headcanons

(this prompt was requested by the lovely @sugaredlavenderhearts 💕 hope you all enjoy this one!!)

John

John is incredibly (and perhaps a bit overly) protective of you, always reviewing gigs before you take them on to be sure they aren't exploitative or suspicious in any way

he basically acts as a second agent/manager

your career as a model tends to bring out the jealous and possessive aspects of John's personality

despite this, he really enjoys exploring different aesthetics and getting to play around with art and photography with you

he appreciates your artistic side and loves to collaborate with you on creative projects and experimental photoshoots, adding some excitement to your portfolio

you two mesh very well, your modeling skills blending seamlessly with John's own artistic vision

he also won't pass up the chance to brag about your looks and talent in conversation with the other lads

Paul

Paul takes a genuine interest in your career, offering encouragement every step of the way

he attends every show and photoshoot to show his support - and to see his gorgeous partner in action, of course

he'll often coordinate his outfits to match yours when the two of you go out on dates or to events

he loves nothing more than to show you off and wants everyone to see the two of you together

he can't help but shower you with compliments whenever possible

you're 100% Paul's creative muse and artistic inspiration

he's written countless love songs inspired by your elegance and beauty, expressing his admiration for you through his music

George

George deeply admires your ability to express yourself through fashion

he respects your dedication to your craft and you provide him with a deeper understanding of the art form

he loves to offer his perspective and insight on different shoots and projects you take part in, not afraid to speak up when he feels strongly about a creative decision or idea

during interviews, he often shifts the focus of the conversation to you and your accomplishments, beaming with pride as he speaks about you

he promotes you whenever he gets the chance, using his influence to propel you further into the limelight

Ringo

Ringo would be your biggest cheerleader, attending every show and shoot you book

he enjoys acting as your companion at events, reveling in the excitement and glamor of the industry

he likes to joke around with you between takes, using his humor to get you to lighten up and to dispel any nerves that may get to you

he's fascinated by your experiences in the fast-paced world of fashion, listening attentively to every story you share with him

when you're alone together, Ringo loves to take his own headshots of you, making silly faces behind the camera to get more genuine smiles and capture some candid shots of his gorgeous partner

How they'd react to an ordinary reader/reader who doesn't know them

(big thanks to anon for this request!! I tried my very best 💕 I hope this is what you were looking for ✨️ enjoy!)

John

John would be incredulous at first, wondering how on Earth you didn't realize who he is

it would take him a moment to recover from that blow to his ego

once he does, however, he realizes he's stumbled upon a golden opportunity to mess with you

he'd regale you with elaborate and nonsensical tales of his past - so outlandish, not even a child would believe a word he'd said

you'd be skeptical but play along, asking questions and feigning great curiosity about his (clearly made-up) backstory

John would come to admire your individuality and respect your rare ability to stay true to yourself

he'd enjoy challenging your thoughts and ideas, dropping by often to spark witty debates and intellectual discussions with you over a cuppa

Paul

Paul is surprisingly endeared to your ignorance of his fame, finding you charmingly aloof

he approaches you with curiosity and warmth, eager to learn more about your interests and passions

he finds he is able to relax a bit, no longer having to bear the weight of pressure fans' expectations place on him

he'd share with you stories from his own life, careful not to divulge anything too wild in his pursuit to find common ground

Paul quickly grows to appreciate your creativity and unique perspective

he often invites you to come down to the studio with him and be a test audience for new melodies/song ideas

sometimes he'll request songwriting critiques from you just so he can hear your voice as you speak your mind freely to him, gazing at you with a dreamy look in his eyes

George

upon realizing that you don't seem to recognize him, George breathes out a sigh of relief

to him, you're a breath of fresh air amidst the deafening crowds and bustling mobs of fans and press alike

he really resonates with your introspective nature and individuality, respecting your withdrawn lifestyle

over time, he begins to open up around you and abandon his shyness a bit

you're privy to a more talkative side of George, a rare sight and a far cry from his usual quiet and reserved demeanor

he takes great interest in your passions, asking questions to gain a better understanding of the inner workings of your mind

he listens to every song and reads every book to recommend to him, always one to broaden his horizons and look at things from a new perspective

Ringo

Ringo first approaches you with his trademark warmth and humor, radiating confidence and passion

eventually making the connection that you don't seem to recognize him, he feels himself growing shy

usually, his career is his go-to talking point

regardless, he does his best to entertain you by sharing anecdotes from his colorful life

though you suspect some exaggeration, you find yourself charmed by the man's embellished stories and are happy to lend an ear

Ringo would come to enjoy your refreshing take on life and want to accompany you everywhere, no matter the occasion

the two of you share many new experiences and adventures together, discovering more about yourselves and one another

How they'd comfort you after a SH episode

(thank you to anon for this request!! I know this is a sensitive subject for many so I understand the decision to skip this one ❣️ those who choose to read on, I hope you enjoy!)

⚠️⚠️⚠️ TW: SELF-HARM ⚠️⚠️⚠️

John

John is immediately panicked and uneasy at the sight of you this way

he's seen his fair share of blood, but never that of someone he loves so dearly

for once he's at a loss, no longer his usual smooth and confident self

he stumbles over his words and mumbles reassurances under his breath, hoping to provide you some sense of comfort while he gets his thoughts in order

he knows this isn't something he can joke his way around

John cleans and bandages you up, having done the same for himself countless times following the frequent fights of his youth

he gives you one of his T-shirts to borrow and settles onto the bed next to you

he shares his own thoughts and struggles with you, wanting you to feel less alone

John doesn't have much to offer in the way of coping strategies or outlets, as he isn't exactly the best at managing his own emotions

instead he rubs your back and shushes you, rambling and sharing mindless stories to take your mind off of things until you're able to drift off to sleep

Paul

Paul's doe eyes fill with tears at the sight of your fresh wounds, threatening to spill over before he takes a deep breath to calm his nerves

he mentally scolds himself, knowing he has to hold it together so as not to upset his beloved any further

he takes a gentle and nurturing approach the delicate situation at hand, slowly stepping closer to you and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder

Paul offers endless words of reassurance, telling you how beautiful you are and reminding you that you're the light of his life and the strongest person he knows

he helps you clean up if you allow him, gingerly patting your skin with a dampened cloth

he places gentle kisses on your forehead and strokes your hair, using his thumbs to wipe away your tears as he finally lets his own slip down his ruddy cheeks

when you're clean and settled into bed, Paul picks up his guitar and begins to strum

he plays you a soothing melody, hoping the soft chords and lilt of his voice will lull you to sleep so you can rest and recover

George

George approaches the situation with a calm but serious demeanor

he is deeply concerned for you, but understands your pain and doesn't want to push you to open up to him before you're ready

he soaks a washcloth in cool water and dabs it on your skin to clean you up

he'll fetch you a clean set of clothing to make sure you're comfortable and cared for

though he doesn't want to pry, a quiet voice in his head urges him to help you work through your overwhelming emotions

the man of few words suddenly finds much to say, offering wisdom from his own spiritual practices and beliefs

he emphasizes the importance of finding inner peace and grounding yourself before granting you some time to process his words

when you're ready, George walks you through a guided meditation and some mindful breathing techniques, hoping to bring you some peace of mind

Ringo

Ringo is devastated and doesn't quite understand the situation or what may have led you to do this

he wonders how the one he adores so much could ever want to cause such harm to themselves

he offers to do or bring you anything you need, desperate to remedy the situation

he rifles through the bathroom cabinet for bandages, finally coming across a small metal tin

Ringo rushes over to kneel by your side and begins to place the adhesive bandages over your wounds

being the supportive partner he is, he's so blinded by his dedication to caring for you that he doesn't seem to notice the bandages are far too small

when he gets to the fifth one you fail to stifle a laugh, amused by his determination to make them fit

his face lights up when he hears you laugh - the most melodic sound he could ever imagine

he tries to cheer you up with his usual nonsensical Ringo-isms, lightening your mood and easing your worries with talk of silly fantasies and reminders of your happiest memories together

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

Teddy Boy!John Lennon X Modern!Reader - Smoke & Serendipity 🚬

(based on an anonymous request for a tb!john x modern!reader oneshot where the reader has accidentally traveled back in time !! hope you all enjoy 💕)

Confusion clouds your mind as you blink, trying to make sense of your surroundings. It takes a moment for the realization to sink in: you had somehow traveled back in time.

Suddenly and inexplicably, you find yourself standing atop the cobbled streets of 1950s Liverpool, amidst the buzzing energy of rock 'n' roll and the birth of a cultural revolution.

As you stumble through the unfamiliar streets, your heart races with apprehension. How had this happened? And more importantly, how are you going to get back to your own time?

You begin to notice the judgmental sneers and bewildered stares you were receiving from passers by, many of them clad in tailored suits and long, pleated skirts.

You glance down at your own attire.

Yeah, this isn't going to cut it, you think to yourself. I'd better get out of sight before I draw any more unwanted attention.

You wander a bit further, searching for a suitable place to lay low while you figure out how you're going to get out of this mess, when your eyes land on a hazy, dimly-lit alleyway.

Perfect.

You make a bee-line for the alley's entranceway, desperate to duck into the secluded spot. Before you can slip away into the cover of shadow, a bruised and bloodied teenaged boy storms out of the alley and past you, muttering curses under his breath.

What the hell...

You freeze for a moment, startled by the strange sight. You shake your head side-to-side, regaining focus on the task at hand as you cautiously round the corner.

Before you stood a tall, thin young man wearing a too-big leather jacket and scuffed boots, hair once slicked back but now disheveled from his skirmish with the other adolescent. He held a cigarette between two fingers of his bloody-knuckled right hand, taking drags on occasion as he kicked at the gravel beneath his feet.

Curiosity propelled you to approach the stranger, though nerves threatened to paralyze your steps. You gingerly step closer, finally catching the eye of the mysterious young man.

He is visibly taken aback at the sight of your unconventional attire, eyeing you up and down with an incredulous expression on his face. You're beginning to regret your decision when he lets out a low whistle and opens his mouth to speak:

"I've seen some outlandish outfits in me time but yours takes the cake, love," he teases with a snicker, curls of cigarette smoke framing his smug face.

You're shocked and somewhat offended by the gall of the stranger. You cross your arms over your chest defensively, but decide to keep the interaction playful- this is clearly not the kind of guy you want to provoke.

"Hey, don't knock it 'til you try it. Maybe I'll start a new fashion trend around here," you retort. The man quirks an eyebrow, intrigued by your quick wit and unfamiliar accent. Before he has time for another snide remark, you continue.

"Besides, you're one to talk. What's with the bloody knuckles, uh..."

"John," he interrupts you, chuckling softly. He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly as you make the observation, slightly ashamed but determined not to let his tough exterior slip.

"Ah, just a little scuffle. Nothing I couldn't handle- you know how it is."

You think back to the beat-up young man you spotted earlier, putting the pieces together.

"Do you... do you often find yourself in situations like this?"

John's gaze softens, a hint of melancholy in his eyes.

"More often than I'd like, but it comes with the territory I suppose. Life's rough around the edges, especially for a lad like me." He gives a hollow chuckle.

The urge to pry further tugs at you, but you choose to ignore it. Before you can formulate a response, he regains his confidence and speaks up again.

"Why do you ask? Just curious, or-" he takes a step towards you, "Perhaps you fancy a bad boy, hm?"

You're stunned by John's boldness, beginning to blush as you look up into his half-lidded eyes. At such a distance, you quickly take note of how handsome the young man really is, in a rough-and-tumble sort of way.

"I wouldn't say that, but... is it a crime to be curious about a rugged stranger?"

John shakes his head, amused, and puffs on his cigarette before speaking.

"Well, if you really do want to know more... me band's got a gig tonight down at the Cavern Club. How's about you make an appearance?" he suggests with a smirk.

You narrow your eyes cautiously, wary of his intentions at first, but beyond his bravado you can tell that he's being sincere. You mull the idea over in your mind, finally deciding that your trip back home can wait.

"Perhaps I'll see you there. Unless of course some other charming young man comes to sweep me off my feet in the meanwhile," you tease. "Someone a little less... greasy."

You reach a hand up to ruffle his hair- as much as you can, anyway, with what's left of his hair gel stiffening his locks. John gives you a playful shove and rolls his eyes.

"With that dreadful getup? Fat chance."

He saunters past you as you stammer, furrowing your eyebrows at him in distaste.

"Hey! I... it's... well-"

"I think what you meant to say was, catch you later, handsome."

He winks and struts off down the street, leaving you a flustered mess.

Now I really need to hit the shops.

Hello! Can you please make a oneshot / headcanon about teddyboy! John lennon (or all members, if it's headcanon) with modern!reader who has accidentally timetraveled to their time?

Hello!

of course i can !! that is such a fantastic concept, I can't wait to explore that idea 🌟

🐞 HELLO, ALL 🐞

I know this won't reach many of you, but I am pleased to announce I have returned to this blog!!!

Feel free to send your X reader requests this way, Beatlemaniacs

See you all very soon!

James II Part I (Paul McCartney x Fem!Reader)

Find Part I Here

A/N: Hello everyone! I feel bad I keep disappearing for like a year at a time; I've been accepted into college, and I've been doing a lot of upgrading work to get there. I also got a job at a dispensary which is great; hitting the John Pennon is helping with major writer's block! Thank you for your continued support and patience while I'm doing all of this. It means a lot that you are all still reading my work, some of which are well over 5 years old now. It means a lot to me that so many people enjoy my writing. I do this for you guys, so your comments and opinions are so kind and encouraging for me to get more work done, so thank you!

I would also like to thank my editor @strawb3rri-le for helping me brainstorm and plan out this story; we're so excited for this one to finally get on a roll!

Summary: Paul, after a long week of working, makes a decision about the girl at the library.

This fic is still written in Paul's POV, and it will probably stay that way because I love knowing what he's thinking about. Also this is a part 1 to a 2 part chapter, so that will be coming after I finish writing a second chapter for another popular fic I was writing.

WARNINGS: I used Y/n a few more times again and I cringe every time I use it and it's so painful, but that's the price you pay when you write x readers, eh? I don't think there are any swear words, maybe some objectification of women if you close one eye and tilt your head, but it's from a "rockstars just get laid so easily" perspective so just take it with a grain of salt.

T rating just in case a swear word or 2 found its way in here

Paul was really busy that next week. He couldn't find any time to be by himself because of the responsibility he had in The Beatles.

The album A Hard Day's Night was to be released about two months from then, as well as the movie of the same name. The guys only wrapped up on filming a month prior, but there weren't enough songs yet to call the album an album. While Paul, John, Ringo, and George were consistent with writing and recording their songs well within their due date, there was always added stress when there was a time limit.

And, even with all of that in mind, there were talks of preparing another album for release in December. So there the band was, spending a whole week in a recording studio brainstorming different songs for A Hard Day's Night. They all played random instrumental chords and progressions, and sung gibberish until proper lyrics formed from the early hours of every morning until late every night.

That Friday evening, they all collectively decided to wrap up early, and take the following day off. Everyone seemed rather relieved. Their work was slowly moving along, but a day to reset, everyone could agree, was well needed.

Paul got home around seven, sighing in contentment as he passed through the front door and dropped his shoulders.

He could finally relax.

He set his bass on the floor by the door, shrugged out of his jacket, and kicked his shoes off before making a beeline for the sofa. He sighed again as he sunk into the furniture for the first time since the previous weekend. All he wanted to do was lie down, and he was so glad he could finally do it. His arms hugged the pillow at his head as his body began to unwind.

It had been a long week, and only now was Paul feeling the weight of the built-up fatigue...

He napped for only about fifteen minutes, but it wasn't planned. He sat up again a moment after waking up so he didn't fall back to sleep, rubbing his face and yawning. He was hoping to stay awake for another couple of hours. Maybe making some dinner was a good idea.

Paul got up and wandered to the kitchen, searching through the refrigerator and pantry, and settled on making a sandwich for his final meal of the night.

He got the ingredients and threw it together rather quickly, bringing it back to the living room so he could eat at the sofa. On his way there, he turned on the radio, and set it to a quiet volume, digging into his sandwich as soon as he sat down.

His eyes wandered his apartment for a few minutes as he ate, admiring his possessions and sentiments on the walls and sitting on display. Sometimes it was easy to take this place for granted, but some really long weeks recording, or being on the road, was enough for that appreciation for his personal space to return.

Paul finished his sandwich, and as he reached to place the plate on the end table to his left, he caught a glimpse of a little black book sitting there.

It was the book he signed out of the library from the week before. Since his recent schedule didn't take too kindly to free time, he actually hadn't touched it since being at the library.

After a moment of debate, Paul reached over for the book, trading it for the plate. He examined the cover again. It was black leather, adorned with intricate designs punched into it. The title of the book read "Gourmet Mushrooms of Europe."

Paul didn't really know much about cooking, let alone different mushrooms used for cooking. He opened the book up, and a ripped page fell into his lap. He lifted it up, eyes softening as he read what the paper said.

"Y/n," he mumbled tenderly, examining everything else further. All that was written on it was her name, a smiley face, and a phone number.

Paul took a moment of his time to think about the situation at hand. The situation with her.

Truth be told, Paul wasn't really even allowed to be in public without supervision at the time because of how ridiculous the mobs and fans could be; especially with him. He managed to sneak out that day to be out of the apartment, and away from the clingy bodyguards, and he was a little on edge from the idea of something going wrong and being caught. A quiet library seemed to be the safest place for him, and he could be left alone to do his songwriting in peace.

What happened instead was him stumbling into a strong, unexpected infatuation with a curious girl who didn't know who he even was-- and Paul was so torn on whether this was a good thing or a bad thing.

There was no denying Paul felt that being famous was rather exciting. The attention you can get from being as well-known as he, felt exhilarating, even more so when you know you could probably have any girl you could ever want. The feeling of being able to tease and flirt with the opposite sex so confidently, and have it be that easy to win them over was unlike anything anyone could imagine experiencing, and Paul's career was only going up from there...

But, man, doesn't all that attention just feel synthetic?

What if he wanted this girl? The girl who was clueless? The girl who thought he was just a regular guy?

What if Paul could fall in love, and it was all real?

What if he were just James?

Paul enjoyed y/n's company so much, and what she had to say about her interests, and knowing her better as a person was an idea Paul was naturally gravitating towards, as would anyone if they met someone they were interested in.

However, doing something like this was probably going to end in her finding out the truth, whether it be through the media, other people, or even him.

He could fix all of that right there and then by calling her, and setting the record straight by telling her who he actually was... and potentially put that unbiased romance at risk.

This plan, although the most reasonable, and conscious decision, unfortunately didn't sit well with him at all.

The problem from every angle here was that Paul kind of wanted to try and pursue her romantically, and he didn't want to endanger a future entirely dependent on who he actually was.

But on the other hand, what were his other options? What if not calling her at all would be the best option? And have Paul be bitter the rest of his life for not taking a chance and losing her?

Or what about keeping up with the James charade? Paul had already lied about his name. What's he gonna lie about next? His last name? His job? His family? At what point does the lying become too much? Ironically, this was the only way he could receive the genuine connection he wanted with her... to lie about himself, and seriously threaten her trust for him if she found out the truth.

He didn't want to believe the third option was his only option. He wanted to believe he was a good person, and would tell the truth...

And he wouldn't admit it-- not in a hundred years-- but there was a tiny, little voice in the back of his head, whispering among all the other thoughts he was having, and the voice asked, "but wouldn't it be interesting to see just how long you get away with it?"

This wasn't a high Paul was wanting to chase... but he just... couldn't help but wonder exactly that. How long would it take for her to find out?

Had it been any other girl in the whole world, Paul would not have been overthinking, or making such a ridiculously big deal about some white lie like this.

But this wasn't any other girl in the whole world. This was someone who saw Paul and treated him like a regular human being, unbeknownst to her that the kindness and humanity she offered him as person was unlike anything he experienced in his day-to-day life as a musician. She didn't ogle at him, nor did she scream in his face, she didn't throw herself at him or try and grab at him. She just smiled kindly with her pretty lips and asked him questions, and it didn't seem to matter whether or not she'd ever see him again; what mattered was that she was kind to him in the limited time she had with him.

Her reserved nature was what appeared to be drawing Paul in, and a part of him also wondered if someone like him, living the lifestyle he was, would drive someone as quiet, and as simple as her away?

He didn't feel sorry for her, per se, but he did also note that she mentioned she'd never been in a relationship before, and taking advantage of her and making her feel used was not something he wanted to do.

Paul blinked once at the paper before his eyes slowly drifted back across the living room before his gaze settled on the telephone. He felt like he was glued to the sofa, still thinking of every possible scenario in his head where this could all work out for him in the end.

He stood up after about another minute of debate, took a deep breath, and approached the phone, her number in hand.

He was going to tell her the truth. No more playing any games.

He picked up the receiver, and dialed her number, hesitating on the final one, but choosing to stand his ground. He could hear the ringing in the receiver, and every second passing was more time for anxiety to begin welling up within. For a split moment, he considered hanging up and calling another time, but then there was shuffling, and he held his breath as he heard a voice on the other end.

"Hello?"

"Uh-- Y/n?" He asked after a second, chest tight with nerves. "... From the library?"

"James? Is that you?" Her excitement could be heard in her voice, and Paul took a seat in the chair next to the phone, huffing a shaky breath, and feeling his burning face with the back of his free hand. His name coming from her mouth was quite the sound, he almost forgot just how much he liked hearing her call him that. It was personal, and endearing.

"... yeah, uh, it's me. How uh... how're you doing?" He sounded so out of place, and he didn't even know how to segue into explaining all of this to her. He'd only met her once, but keeping a secret like this from her when Paul had these plans to romance her just didn't seem fair at all. He figured some small talk would be a good way to warm up, and then he'd get to the nitty gritty. He dropped his free hand on his leg from his forehead, squeezing his knee as he waited for her to respond.

"I'm alright, thanks. I just did a longer day at work today, so I don't have too many extra chores for Monday, so that's nice. What about you? Reading up on your book at all?"

Paul's eyes fell to the book again, across the room, and he nodded a little, even though he hadn't. "Yeah, uh, a few pages. I've been a bit busy at work myself but... I do have tomorrow off."

"Oh, so do I! I'm just about done my book from last week, so I'll be going back tomorrow morning to exchange it for a new one!"

Paul furrowed his brow a little at what she just said. "... that massive green book? You're done it already?"

She laughed airily on the other line. "I'm a librarian, James; reading is my life."

There was a split moment Paul's morality slipped, and he appeared to be at a crossroads again.

"Y'know... you might just see me there! I uh... I like going there to do some work. I'll be going in the morning. Perhaps, if I see you, we could continue where we left off, y'know...?"

He couldn't do it. He couldn't tell her. He couldn't risk this.

"That actually sounds lovely! Maybe we can do what we did last time, and talk about books. Or... sit in silence as we read and work. We can do that too," she suggested a little awkwardly.

Paul smiled at her dorkiness, sighing a little laugh before assuring her, "I would love to do that. I'll be there around nine."

"Me too! I'm excited to see you again, James." Her gentle voice made Paul blush yet again, biting back his smile as he responded, "likewise, Y/n. Good night."

He hung up the receiver, his body coursing with different emotions. Excitement. Anxiety. Confidence. Frustration. Affection.

Paul knew he did wrong there, not doing what he originally intended.

To make himself feel better, Paul thought that he could still be honest with her about everything else in his life, like his likes, dislikes, interests, etcetera; so when the time came that he needed to tell her the truth, the blow wouldn't be so hard. He could flirt with her, and be romantic with her, like Paul typically would, and still be James.

Once Paul could convince himself that he and James were one and the same, that's perhaps when his confidence and swoon-worthy pickups would return.

After sitting in the chair for another moment longer, he looked back up to the mushroom book.

He got up, made a few strides over and picked it up, flipping it open and starting on the very first page.

Well... if he was gonna try on this James character, and impress Y/n with him, he'd better get practicing.

_____________________________________________________

A/A/N: Thanks for reading, guys! I know this one was kind of filler considering it's almost been a full year since updating, but thank you for sticking around anyways! A second chapter for Do You Want To Know A Secret is coming next, so keep an eye out! Also, I am completely revamping my Tag List, so please let me know if you want to be added, and you'll be notified of all my upcoming writing!

James (Paul McCartney x Fem!Reader)

Find Part II Here

A/N: Hello! I've decided I have to make a chapter fic for Paulie because I'm in love with him. There are gonna be at LEAST 6 chapters in this fic, so there will be plenty more coming! Stick around, like and comment, and let me know if you want to be tagged when I release more chapters of this!

I want to personally thank my editor @strawb3rri-le for helping me make these ideas come into fruition. Literally cannot do this without you <3

Summary: Paul meets a pretty girl in the library one day, and is elated to find out she is oblivious to who he actually is.

This fic is written in third person from Paul's perspective, which is kind of different to how I normally write my x readers, so it might be a little jarring to read at first, but I just wanted to try something a little different :)

WARNINGS: I'm not certain I wrote any curse words in this one, but I'll say there is just to be on the safer side. Mentions of mushrooms/ fungi; not drug-related, but I figured I'd add that because some people don't like them. I use Y/n like 4 times in here around the end it drives me nuts, but it has to happen. I don't think there's much else.

This one is pretty safe, if I could rate it lower I would, but I'll mark it at T just to be on the safe side.

Paul could have watched the heavy raindrops hit the window pane for hours and hours. the grey clouds drifting in the sky above brought nothing but heavy showers to the streets of London that dark afternoon...

But that's not what he came to the library for.

He came here for some peace and quiet.

He wanted to get some more songwriting done, but the apartment didn't seem to be the place for it that day, and everywhere else just appeared to be crawling with girls. As much as Paul liked girls, he didn't want to be noticed, because then his day would have simply consisted of him trying to escape the hoards that would have started chasing after him.

The library felt like it made the most sense. People were there to read, study, keep to themselves; not to socialize with others and be loud. As long as he found a little private area to sit, he knew he wouldn't be bothered at all. He also figured, if he couldn't come up with any song ideas, he had tens of thousands of books to refer to for inspiration.

And that was the situation Paul was in at that moment. He'd been sitting in his little study nook for a while now, just staring blankly at his notebook, or out the window next to him. Usually the words came flowing from his mind, translated by his hand and onto the paper, yet that particular day, nothing seemed to be inspiring him.

He rose to his feet after a while, notebook shoved under his arm as he wandered off into one of the aisles nearest to him. He wasn't looking for any book in particular. Sometimes he'd just pull one off the shelf, flip to a random page, and read a random sentence in the middle of the text. If it seemed to be interesting enough to inspire even a single line in a song, Paul would use it. If not, off to the next book.

He began to do just that, with older books with worn spines, and newer books with colourful covers. Unfortunately, even after the fourth or fifth book he pulled from the aisle he was in, no inspiration seemed to manifest from what he was reading. He sighed as he pushed the book he was holding back into its place on the shelf before he made his way to the next aisle over.

Paul began repeating what he was doing before, reaching for a book, and flipping through the pages. This particular book, he cut three separate times, and not one sentence seemed to draw any kind of innovation for his songwriting.

Once again, Paul shoved the book back onto the shelf. As he stared ahead at all of the different pieces of literature before him, one book in particular seemed to catch his eye. It was green, with gold accents on the bevelling as well as the raised parts of the spine. Without a second thought, he reached up for it, only for his fingers to come into contact with someone else's.

Paul drew his hand back and glanced to his right, where a young woman about his age stood. He held his breath, fully expecting an overreaction from her at his presence.

Instead, she smiled awkwardly at him, her hand also drawn back close to her.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize you were after that one," she explained gently, and Paul blinked, raising a confused eyebrow before looking back to that specific book. After a moment, he pulled it down off the shelf and examined the cover, the golden text embossed into the front cover reading 'Europe's Most Common Mushrooms, and Fungi: A Field Guide'.

"Do you like learning about Mycology as well?" She asked curiously, and Paul's gaze shot up to her face, eyes squinting a little at her question.

He was half confused on what she was honestly asking him, but he was also kind of surprised she wasn't pointing and shouting at the fact that she found a Beatle in public.

"... Mycology?" He asked back sheepishly, and her awkward smile warmed up a little at his question. She pointed at the book cover before responding with another question. "You know, the study of mushrooms, and fungi?"

Paul's eyes dropped back down to the book before cracking it open and flipping to a random page as he was doing with all the others. A beautifully illustrated picture of a mushroom with a porous underside presented itself to the young man, and his eyebrows furrowed at the image.

"That is a Boletus Edulis," she explained quietly to him. "It's a tasty gourmet mushroom found in Europe, as well as in North America."

Paul looked back up to her briefly before returning to the book and flipping to another page, a red capped mushroom with white spots being the next image to catch his eye.

"Ooh, and that one there is an Amanita Muscaria, also known as the Fly Agaric. It received its name back in the day because grinding it up and putting it in window sills and doorways would repel flies from entering your home."

"... You sure know your mushrooms, huh?" Paul asked carefully, rather impressed with the few bits of information provided to him by this stranger.

"It's definitely a good hobby to get into. Nothing beats going out onto the trail and foraging them for dinner." She paused briefly before adding, "I mean... the boletes are fine, but perhaps not the amanitas." 

Paul closed the book up again before taking a final glance at the front cover.

"I'm uh... sort of grabbing books at random, looking for something inspiring. There needn't be a reason to hang onto this if you need it," Paul explained, presenting it to her so she could take it, and her fingers accidentally brushed against his once again as she took it from him.

The graze was so gentle, yet Paul felt his cheeks warm up at the contact. She was awfully pretty, he decided to himself in silence as he watched the look of joy on her face appear when she flipped the book open herself. She stopped on a page containing a drawing of a white mushroom dripping black ink at its edges.

Paul couldn't help but double take the image. To think there was so much about the world he didn't know a thing about... it made him feel so small, and insignificant.

She must have noticed his gaze on the page, and figured she'd teach him about one more specimen. "These ones," she began, with a rather excited exhale, turning the book Paul's way so he could see, "are Shaggy Mane mushrooms. They are edible and good, as long as you haven't consumed alcohol for a few days prior to, and post consumption. Then they'd be quite toxic."

She smiled at the tidbit and looked up to Paul's face, nose crinkling a little. "Isn't that just the neatest thing?"

Paul couldn't believe what he was hearing. He never really thought about mushrooms before. Sure, he'd seen brown and white ones before in the grass, or growing on trees, but there was something about the way she relayed the information with such passion, that just made it so interesting to him. It was unlike anything he ever experienced before.

"... You have a very natural way of describing this sort of stuff," Paul expressed, nodding his head to her positively. "I honestly never realized there were so many different ones."

"Oh, what I've told you doesn't even scratch the surface of the world of Mycology," she explained, the smile only growing on her face, and Paul couldn't help but smile back at her.

"... I should really leave to let you continue on with what you were doing," she said after a moment. "I do appreciate you listening to my ramblings. I know I can sometimes get carried away with this sort of stuff," her smile fell away a little. "Not many really care about fungi, so it's nice to talk about my interests with someone who's willing to listen."

Paul's own smile began to falter, rather upset that such a pleasant conversation, with such a pleasant person, had to end so soon. He hadn't encountered such a normal discussion in so long. Not that a conversation about mushrooms and fungi was normal, but Paul felt it was just so refreshing talking about anything but him and his fame.

"... well, I rather enjoyed what you had to say," he admitted lightly, an undeniable blush flourishing from the woman's cheeks as she appeared to smile again, a little brighter than before.

"Well... thank you, again. You're very kind," she repeated, waving her hand kindly as she turned on her heel and wandered off to the next aisle.

Paul's eyes watched her round the corner, and he stood there in disbelief. There was so much for him to unpack in his thoughts in that very moment.

She had to have been one of the prettiest girls he'd ever seen; minding her own business in a library by herself, and doing something she really enjoyed. Her intelligence on the subject showed through her excited rambling, which Paul could have listened to for much, much longer.

Her voice was so pleasant, happiness apparent in her words as she described every species effortlessly, as if she'd known it all since the day she was born. It left him wanting to hear more from her.

But the cherry on top of all of this, was that she didn't even acknowledge Paul as anything but another human being. Not some big musician with whom she obsessed over just because of his looks. For someone who remained so calm, and pleasant in conversation, Paul was certain she had no clue who he actually was.

And he loved that.

As much as fame brought excitement to his existence, Paul couldn't deny that the concept of a simple, normal life with someone who loved him for him, and not his popularity to the public, was something he seemed to yearn for more often as of late.

He loved the idea of being a nobody, especially to someone he wanted to be somebody to.

He looked over his shoulder to the empty space where that green and gold book once sat, deciding to reach for the one sitting next to it. It happened to be another book on mushrooms and fungi, but it had a lot more words in it than images. He flipped to the middle of the book and read the fist word he saw.

Symbiosis.

He felt dumb staring at the word. He knew there was only one person he could ask to inquire about what it meant. He glanced up through the bookshelves, eyes searching through the gaps of the works to find her.

She only happened to be in the next aisle over, scanning the book titles off the spines above her head carefully, too in her own world to notice Paul's obvious staring through the shelving units. She pulled a book down and read the summary on the back, Paul watching her eyelashes flit lower and lower as she absorbed the words like a sponge in water.

He noticed that as she read, her lips gently mouthed each word, and he soon found himself stuck in a trance. He observed how her tongue poked out between her teeth to mouth words with the letter L, and how her lips would press tightly together as she read words containing B, and M.

Who would have thought, Paul wondered, something so small could be so hypnotizing?

She made a small face of approval to the book before stacking it on top of the green one she was given by him, and she headed over to an empty table in the corner of the room. She faced towards the shelves, back to the wall so she could see the whole library from her spot.

Despite this, as soon as she made herself comfortable, she was solely focussed on the books, and her dominant hand wrote out her notes almost romantically, notebook pages filling effortlessly with information that brought her joy.

Paul was absolutely mesmerized by her movements. Screw the rain, he could have watched her for hours. He couldn't get over the little flick of her wrist when she ended a point, or the wonderful silent motion of her lips reading out the words.

She drove him mad in the best kind of way.

She flipped to the next page in her notebook, and Paul came back down to earth, realizing then just how creepy he must have appeared, standing close to the shelf, and peering through to the other side to watch the woman simply minding her own business from afar.

His shoes felt like they were filled with cement, but he worked up enough courage to slowly move towards her table, opting to stand by a nearby shelf and stare blankly at the spines as to not look so awkward.

What would I even say to her? was the only thought at the forefront of Paul's mind, the black mushroom book still in his hand, one of his fingers wedged between the pages to mark where that silly word was. He knew he was going to ask her about it, but he needed to smoothly segue into it, somehow.

This situation was rather a bother to Paul. He felt conflicted as to why he seemed so nervous about approaching her. He was a flirt, and he loved making girls feel giddy, why would this stranger be any different?

He was close enough that he could have called for her attention, but her focus was faithfully undivided, completely oblivious to Paul standing only fifteen feet away from her, trying to muster up the nerve to say something, anything.

After talking to her for only a minute and a half, and having parted ways for not even five more, Paul found himself deprived of her voice, longing to hear anything roll off her tongue, as long as it were to him. He was pining to have her attention so badly, but standing and admiring her from only a couple of steps away was only going to get him so far.

His palms were sweaty, and he wiped them on his pants haphazardly as he took a deep breath. He took one more second to nod his head positively for motivation, and he stepped out into the open, facing her completely. His heart pounded in his chest, but he pushed himself to take one more step forward. And that happened to be enough for her to notice.

The stranger raised her gaze up to Paul, the look of neutral concentration on her face softening into a pleasant smile.

Just that made Paul weak in the knees.

"Find anything inspiring yet?" She asked him in a friendly tone, eyeing the book in his hand as his thoughts flatlined. He didn't expect her to speak first. On the one hand, he was relieved that it indicated she was okay with talking to him, but on the other, it put him off-script, and now he had to actually use his brain to initiate discussion.

"I uh..." he struggled for a moment, glancing down at the book in his hand, as well.

"If I'm going to be quite honest... you talking about mushrooms so passionately was pretty inspiring. It's all I can think about."

The woman's eyebrows arched in surprise, a gentle dusting of pink spreading over her nose as she took in his words. She toyed her bottom lip between her teeth, and Paul couldn't help but drop his gaze for just a second to admire her mouth.

"You know, I'm really flattered that you said that," she expressed gently. "That means a great deal to me. Thank you."

Paul couldn't even feel his legs now, basking in her praise, as a flower would to the rays of sun on a warm spring day.

"... I couldn't help but grab another book like the one you're reading," he explained, lifting it up to show her, and the apples of her cheeks rounded as she smiled even wider. Paul hadn't ever recalled seeing such a beautiful face before.

"I... I saw a word I don't know. I think you're the only person who can help me." The confession made Paul feel a little self-conscious; he didn't want to seem entirely stupid in front of her, but she really didn't seem the type to make fun of him over something like this, and really damage his ego.

Without a word, she pulled the chair out next to her as a silent indication for Paul to take a seat, and he took the offer graciously. He set his notebook down onto the table, and then opened the book to where his finger marked the page cut. She leaned in a little to peer down at the text, and he pointed to the word, realizing only seconds after just how close she was to him. He could smell the faintness of her body wash, and it made his head swirl.

"... This one." He mumbled, watching her in his peripheral as she read the sentence in her head, and physically mouthing the words as her eyes tracked each letter.

"Ah, symbiosis. It basically means two different organisms are benefitting off each other in some way or another. We would be a good example of this, right now," she offered, tilting her head up to look at Paul, who's ears burned hot at the eye contact, but he kept strong and held it for as long as she wanted to look at him.

"You're keeping me pleasant company, and in return, I'm helping you learn about fungi." He thought her point was going to end there, but she quickly added on, "from a natural standpoint, fungi and trees have a symbiotic relationship. If it weren't for the millions of miles of fungal network underground, connecting all the living organisms together, plants wouldn't be able to communicate to each other, or convert their energy from one to the other to achieve optimal growth."

"So... everything would die without fungi?" Paul asked slowly.

"I believe so," she nodded her head. "They play a role in every step of a plant's life. Take a tree, for example."

She slid the green and gold book over to sit between them, and she flipped through the first few pages until she found a diagram of a tree's life cycle, pointing to the images as she rambled on.

"Fungi help them establish strong roots when they're young. Some fungi actually provide nutrients in the soil for the trees to use as energy to grow tall and strong."

She turned her gaze back to Paul. "Even at the end, if a mother tree is dying, she will begin to use the fungal networks below to disperse her energy to her kin, sacrificing herself so they can grow, instead. They use the networks underground to communicate in their own special way."

The young man appeared to be in a dream-like state, head in his palm as he looked on in favour of her words. But when he noticed she stopped speaking after a while, he blinked, finding she was smiling a little awkwardly again, as if she'd asked him a question.

"Hm?" He asked, propped hand dropping to the table. He felt rather guilty his attention diverted.

"... I'm boring you, aren't I?" There was a hint of sadness in her words, a weak smile at her lips, and Paul shook his head quickly.

"No, no! Believe me, I'm listening." He thought for a beat, face going warm again as he confessed, "I just... I really love the sound of your voice. You have a way with words, and I did get a little distracted by that." The young woman's face fell expressionless, and Paul continued.

"I may be rather daft on the subject, but there's just something in the way you talk about it that makes learning about it so much more enjoyable. Please, don't stop talking."

She opened her mouth to say something, but she shut it as she pondered what to respond to Paul with. Her face was flushed, and she was holding back a grin, which ultimately made Paul a little confident considering he was the one that made her flustered.

"... You probably say that to all of the girls you talk to," she finally replied, eyes casting down to the books to hide her blush, and he couldn't help but bite back a smile of his own.

"Well, none of the other girls I know are quite like you," he stated with poise, eyes still locked in on her, hands clasping together as he noticed her blush deepen, and a smile finally breaking through.

Paul then attempted to downplay such a strong interaction. Despite talking to her the way he wanted to, he didn't want her to be uncomfortable with how forward he felt he was being.

"What does your boyfriend think about your hobbies?" He asked. "He must be so proud, and fascinated by how passionate you are about all of this stuff, surely."

She looked back up to Paul, her smile weakening a little. "Boyfriend? Oh I uh..." she cleared her throat. "I don't... I don't have one of those."

Paul's eyebrows lowered a little. "... As in you just got out of a relationship?" He tried to clarify, to which she shook her head.

"As in I've never really... had one." She had a sheepish look on her face, cheeks now red out of embarrassment rather than flattery. Her response sent Paul's eyebrows shooting up in surprise, to say the least.

"... Never?" He repeated in disbelief. She pressed her lips together in a line tightly, shaking her head once again.

"This," she gestured to the books with her hand, "is my life. It has been my life since my early teenage years. Mushrooms and fungi are... strange, and because I like them, I guess that makes me kind of strange, as well."

Her self-dejecting statement made Paul feel bad. In his mind, someone like her not being taken, though washing the feeling of relief throughout him, didn't add up at all. Not even her fascination in mushrooms made her odd, in his eyes.

"... If it means anything to you, I think you're just absolutely lovely," he said, watching as her lip pressed into a little pout as she regarded his words.

"I'm telling you... every guy out there has no idea what they're missing out on."

Paul desperately wished he could read minds; especially hers. She didn't speak, and Paul assumed that the was simply trying to grasp for some words to say. If he were in her position, he wouldn't have known what to say, either.

"For once in my life, someone has actually made me speechless," she confessed, huffing a sigh as she rubbed one of her cheeks, as if that would have made her blush disappear.

"I want to tell you thank you, but that doesn't feel like nearly enough," she explained. "Honestly, your girlfriend is very lucky to have such a charming boyfriend. You have a way with words, yourself." Her comment made Paul laugh, but only once. Inside his chest, his heart was doing somersaults, but he was trying his hardest to keep his composure.

"What girlfriend?"

The woman gasped at his response. "You lie," she accused, yet Paul knew it was all in good nature by the smile on her face. "Even if you were, with a face like that, there's no way you don't have girls chasing after you all the time."

How the tables have turned, Paul thought; a little excited he found himself in the same spot as her only moments after he made the same mistake. Part of him wanted to respond to her with something witty, like "who says I don't?", but the other part of him didn't want that to arouse any questions that would segue into a conversation regarding his job.

He couldn't risk having her know everything, and fall for the idea of him.

"I guess I just... haven't found the right bird yet." He figured that was another truth he could hold by without entirely lying to this poor woman.

"That's fair. Well, whoever has the pleasure of ending up with you is a very lucky woman, indeed." Paul's cheeks darkened again, the compliment making his fingers feel a little numb. He noticed her eyes drifting to the window above his head before she suddenly closed her books shut.

"The rain's stopped. This has been a rather lovely conversation, but I do apologize. I must be leaving now."

Paul felt his stomach drop, and his mouth fell agape, watching worriedly as she gathered her belongings and rose to her feet.

"What-- you're leaving? Right now?"

He felt the same way he did back in the aisle when she cut the conversation short, full of disappointment that it all had to come to an end again.

"I was on my way to my parents' house before the rain started," she explained with a lopsided smile. "I'm helping my mother prepare for dinner tonight, but the rain was so bad, I figured I'd spend some time in here while I waited for it to die down. And I'm very glad I made that decision."

Paul nodded his head, realizing the last part of what she said alluded to making his acquaintance. He also found he couldn't be upset at such a wonderful gesture of kindness, her going to her parents'. "That is very sweet of you to do that for her," he said gently, standing up as well before she disappeared again.

"Before you go," he started, feeling hot beneath the collar as he tried to gather a little bit more courage to speak, her expecting eyes on him making him rather anxious.

"I would like to keep in contact with you," he paused briefly, "only if you want. I just... I've had a really pleasant time talking with you, and learning about your interests, and I would very much like to do all of this again."

Her cheeks rounded out again as her smile widened a little more-- Paul couldn't get over that damned smile of hers.

"You know... I would like that a lot," she finally answered, glancing down at her notebook before flipping to the last page and ripping it out. She folded it in half, and then tore it at the line, handing Paul one of the halves while she began writing on the other one. Paul watched with a pounding heart as she scratched out her phone number, and he began to do the same.

When they exchanged the papers, Paul examined the number she provided him, and then read the name she printed above it, a smiley face drawn next to it. he tried his best to concealing his excitement within.

"Y/n..." he mumbled thoughtfully, eyes casting back up to look at her. She laughed a little as she flipped the paper in her hand to show Paul, which only contained his phone number.

"That's me, but what am I to call you, exactly?"

This is where Paul found himself in another dilemma. He wanted her to call him Paul, but he also didn't want her putting two and two together if she recognized his name. He didn't want to entirely lie to her, either.

That's when a light bulb went off in his head. He realized the greatest loophole, and solution was staring him right in the face.

"Oh, I'm sorry," Paul reached for the paper again, scribbling his name at the top. But he wasn't using 'Paul'; he decided he was going to use his real first name.

"You can call me James," he explained, handing the paper back to her. She surveyed the name at the top of the paper before looking back up to him.

"Finally, a name to a face," she hummed in content. She then offered a hand out to Paul, to which he took so they could shake and say their farewells.

"It was an absolute pleasure meeting you, James."

It was the first time in a very long time Paul had been called that by anyone. He figured he would have hated the sound of it leaving her lips, but instead, it made his heart flutter. His face felt hot again, and it was apparent y/n could see the flush of his skin, because she smirked a little.

"The pleasure is all mine, Y/n. Please be safe." He finally let go of her hand, waving good bye as she did so as well, turning on her heel once again, and heading to the counter with her books to sign them out.

She slid Paul's phone number into her notebook as she walked away, and Paul just stood there for another moment as he watched her leave. He was was still feeling so many emotions now that he was alone, unable to help himself reaching back down to the piece of paper she gave him. He ran his fingers over her name and smiled a little to himself.

"Y/n..." her name was like a breath of fresh air to him. When he looked back up to catch one more glimpse of her, she was already gone. It made him feel a little empty, but when he noticed she left the black mushroom book for him, he felt just a little warmer inside.

Paul reached for the book, sliding her number into the pages, and deciding he was going to sign it out and try to learn a little on the subject. If they ever planned to meet in the future, he could try and impress her with some of the information he learned.

He didn't end up getting what he was looking for at the library, but he felt he was leaving with something he needed.

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A/A/N: Okay, I hope yous enjoyed that! Part 2 will happen as long as I have people requesting it. I have ideas, I'm just missing supporters<3

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Why Don't You Stay; We've Got Tonight II (Paul McCartney x Starr!Female!Reader NSFW)

Find Part One Here

A/N: Y'all asked, y'all shall receive. Thank you all again for the support; I love writing for every single one of you.

I would like to also personally thank my Brainstorming Buddy/ Editor @strawb3rri-le. the last three or four fics I've posted, including this one, would not have been possible had it not been for you, so I thank you from the literal bottom of my heart for being the Lennon to my McCartney in this writing journey. Here's to many more wonderful stories to come! <3

Summary: You and Paul get intimate after agreeing to be there for one another.

This is also inspired by Bob Seger's We've Got Tonight, so be sure to listen to that for your own listening/ reading pleasure!

WARNINGS: SMUT, please don't interact if you're under the age of 18, I'll call your mom. Fluffy unprotected sex (Wrap it before you Tap it amirite?) ANGST; this fic gets SAD midway through, mentions of cheating/ exes being stupid, but there is fluff in the end which makes it all better. Swearing is a given, maybe a few typos.

This one is rated 18+ or R, so tread with caution ONLY if you're of age please, I cannot stress that enough!!!

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes. Are you?"

"I really am."

"Then there's nothing to worry about."

Paul was watching you from what little light was flooding through the window of his room. He could have asked you that question a hundred more times; but he just wanted to make sure you were comfortable.

He opened his mouth to inquire yet again, but you stepped towards him, lips connecting with his to ease his worries. You felt his tension melt away slowly, hands drifting down to hold your waist as you placed one hand on his chest, the other resting on his shoulder.

You pulled away slightly to glance at his sweater, and Paul watched you intensely as your hand slid down the fabric painfully slow, your fingers dipping into every clothed muscle on his torso until they were toying with the hem at his hips.

"... This should go," you suggested in a hushed tone, and after a moment of letting the recommendation settle in both of your minds, Paul let go of you, pulling it up and off him with your help, and the sweater fell to the carpet with a soft thud.

When your hand returned to his chest, now bare, you examined just how toned he was. You had no clue someone of Paul's stature could be hiding such a body under simple knit sweaters and turtlenecks; but it was a pleasant surprise.

As your palm drifted around his skin, feeling the light hairs on his chest, his own fingers couldn't help but drag along the uppermost edge of your own pyjama top. His gentle touch left a trail of goosebumps on you, his eyes following his fingers as his hand slowed to a stop above your heart.

"And, perhaps this, as well...?" Paul asked rather innocently, eyes flitting back up to meet your own gaze. You nodded a little, watching as he ran his tongue against his bottom lip. "Lift up."

You raised your arms for him, and felt your top slide up and off you, his fingers grazing your sides gently as he removed it from your body. Paul held it in his hands for a moment, eyes drifting down a little to look at the sight before him. The top fell to the floor, along with his discarded sweater, and you both stared at each other for a moment.

Paul's eyelids lowered and he sighed at you, hands reaching out to hold you again. He cupped you at the base of your ribs, his thumbs drawing nonsensical patterns on the skin under your breasts as he closed the gap between you again. As your lips pressed together, Paul slowly walked you back to the edge of his bed, where you lowered yourself to sit when you felt the mattress against the back of your legs.

He dropped to his knees in front of you, finally pulling away to look at you again. His hands moved up carefully to cup your breasts, and you shut your eyes. He gauged your reaction to his touch, and feeling his thumbs run gently over your nipples made your head drop back. You whined a little, that familiar, yet longing feeling you hadn't experienced in a while was making itself known deep within you.

His hot breath was fanning against your skin, and Paul asked you in the most delicate tone, a simple, yet effective, "May I?" And all you could do was nod to him.

You whined again when Paul's lips made contact with your breast, his left hand kneading the other carefully as his right squeezed your side in affection. You slid your hands up through his hair, and you felt him moan against your left nipple as his other hand rolled your right one between his fingers.

You both had to try your best to keep on the quieter side since it was so late; and no one else should have known what you two were doing. Unfortunately, Paul's... handiwork... wasn't anything to be quiet about.

"Paul," you choked out, tilting your head up a little, and he removed his mouth from your nipple to look you right in the eyes.

"You like that?"

"Yes," you nodded your head rather frantically, spurring him to get right back to work, but switching sides, lips and tongue teasing your right breast as your left now gained the attention of his fingers.

Your knees fell away from one another as you tilted your head back again, breath ragged as Paul worked his magic. You felt his hand slide down your waist to drag along the band on your pyjama bottoms, but he was in no rush to tell you to take them off.

His hand actually continued to slide down to your thigh, and he squeezed you gently as you felt his tongue swirl around your nipple, and you rolled your hips against his body on reflex, choking out another whine as you tugged at his hair a little harder. He smiled with a pleasant hum before pulling his mouth away from your body.

You huffed at the cool air hitting your wet breasts, but he placed another warm kiss on your lips, one of his hands holding the back of your neck, and your discomfort faded away almost instantly. His other hand was still on your thigh, but slowly trailing back up to the waistband on your pyjama bottoms.

Paul deepened the kiss just for a moment as his finger hooked into the band. When you both separated again, he rested his forehead against yours, heavy eyes opening to look at you.

"Isn't it about time these go, too?" There was something so carnal about his words, yet they still held an abundant amount of respect for you, and your comfort; and, dear God, it turned you on so badly.

You didn't even respond to his question. You just removed your hands from his hair so you could support yourself from the mattress from your elbows, raising your hips off the bed a little so he could pull the rest of the clothes off your body. You watched as Paul did just that, your bottoms relinquished to the pile of clothes building off to the side, your legs not so spread apart anymore.

It looked as if he were in a trance, hands on your thighs as he examined your nude body in fascination. You watched him watch you, still propped up on your elbows, and you felt almost embarrassed under his gaze until he mumbled, fingers kneading into the tense muscles on your legs, "perfect. Absolutely perfect."

You blushed as he tenderly spread your legs open, unhurriedly, and he groaned at the sight of just how wet you were for him.

"Oh, Darling..."

Your face felt so hot, especially when you watched him lick those damned lips of his again.

"I want to taste you, you look so damn sweet." His thumbs continued to massage between your thighs, and you could feel yourself getting even wetter. You felt like you needed to return the favour.

"I... Did you want me to--"

"No," Paul interrupted lightly with a simple shake of his head. It was like he read your mind. "Keep moaning, keep pulling my hair. Those beautiful noises you're making have me feeling the best kind of way right now."

Every word he said contributed to enhancing the pit of arousal you were feeling within, and you were almost speechless. No one had ever spoken to you that way before, not even your ex, the one with whom you felt you shared your most intimate moments with. But after what had already happened in that room, between you and Paul, comparing them was out of the question.

You could feel his breath against your heat, your blood pumping loud in your ears.

"Paul, please..." you whispered, but he just stared at you, fingers still rubbing your thighs.

"Please what, Lovely?" You knew he was doing this on purpose, especially when he rested his head down onto your left leg to give you those alluring puppy-dog eyes.

"I can't give you what you what you want if you don't tell me what it is you need."

Your mouth formed a few shapes without you making a sound. You sighed, breath shaky as you gathered enough composure to groan, "I need your mouth. Please."

"Where?" Paul asked innocently. You were secretly loving the way he was teasing you, but on the other hand, you were beginning to feel desperate for his touch. His left hand reached up towards you, and a single finger rested against the skin between your breasts.

"Here?" He questioned softly, dark eyes watching you as you shook your head. He dragged his finger so painfully slow down your body, stopping at your abdomen to ask again.

"What about here?"

"Please," you were begging him at this point, but Paul continued to take his time, drawing his finger lower, and lower, until he was just above your folds.

"Just little lower," you pleaded to him desperately, and when you finally felt him pull his hand away to hold your thighs apart, you knew he was done playing games with you.

He gave you one more sultry look before dropping his head between your legs, tongue gently lapping away at your arousal, and you cried out his name. He opened his eyes to watch you react from his place as he continued rolling his tongue against you at an even pace.

You lowered your back to the bed, legs instinctively trying to squeeze together at the feeling of Paul's sweet mouth where you needed him most, but he continued to hold a firm grip on your thighs to keep them in place.

His beard scratched at your legs a little, but in the best kind of way. His nose bumped against your clit and your hands found their way back into his mess of locks again, tugging and driving him closer to you. He moaned against you, the vibrations shooting a chill up through your body.

He pulled away a little, mouth shining with your arousal, and his eyelashes lowered over his eyes as he mumbled, "Oh, my dear, you taste better than I ever dreamed you would."

Your heart was pounding against your ribcage, the idea of such a beautiful man dreaming about being between your legs and tasting you, and wanting this had you feeling some kind of way.

"Please, don't stop," you whined gently, and he responded with a quiet laugh.

"Oh, my sweet girl, I'm nowhere near being done with you yet. Don't you worry."

A mix of relief and lust rushed your emotions, and Paul's eyes continued to watch you as he let go of your right leg, hand coming up to his face before putting his middle finger in his mouth.

You stared in anticipation as he pulled his saliva-covered finger out from between his lips before plunging it right into you, and you cried out again, tears of pleasure welling in your eyes as you pushed your hips up against his hand.

It was Paul's turn to stare, and you felt him curl his finger inside of you before adding another and repeating the beckoning motion again, free hand pressing your hip down to keep you from moving so much.

"You okay, Lovely?" He asked in a low tone, watching as your body twitched and writhed with everything he did.

"Yes, keep going, Paulie," you whimpered, encouraging his hand to quicken before he dipped back down, lips wrapping around your nub, and all you could see were stars. Your hips rocked up again, and Paul released your waist a little to let you squirm around.

"Paulie, I'm gonna..." you stumbled over your words as you felt your orgasm nearing quickly, your hands balled into tight fists in his hair still. One more finger curl was all he had to do before you released all over them with a cry. You mumbled nonsensical speech as Paul pulled back a little and admired his achievement, your arousal dripping down his hand as he let you ride it out.

"That's it, do whatever makes you feel good, my angel." His praise was addicting, your eyes rolled back as you revelled in this state of euphoria. It wasn't long before your hips fell back onto the bed, and you sighed out when Paul removed his fingers from you.

You took a moment to fixate your gaze on him. His pupils were blown, staring at you in the face with his lips parted. You relieved some of the tightness in your fists so you weren't gripping his hair so hard, mumbling a whispered apology for being so harsh with that.

Paul responded to you, not with words, but by stalking up your body slowly, silently, as a predator would to its prey; and he pressed a kiss to your mouth, tongue pushing its way past your teeth so you could taste yourself.

You groaned, sitting up slowly as to not break the kiss. You reached down towards the belt wrapped around his hips, undoing it blindly and pulling it from the loops of his jeans. You needed him, and he was strained so tightly in those trousers, you knew it couldn't have been comfortable for him. You parted from the kiss, but keeping the distance close between you two.

"Are you positive you don't want me going down on you?" Your question seemed as innocent as if could have been, and Paul just smiled a little with another head shake.

"Baby girl, as long as you're getting off, so am I."

You hummed at his response. You hoped he wouldn't quit with the pet names. Your eyes glanced down to the jeans you were in the middle of taking care of, and Paul was already popping the button off them.

His eyes trailed back up to your face before he put his palm innocently over your heart, pushing you down onto your back again.

"Just lean back and relax, my sweet thing. You just stay there and look pretty while I take care of you. Make you feel good."

You watched him from your lying position as he moved to stand by the foot of the bed, dropping his jeans to the floor after wiping his hands off on them before he turned back to you. His stare didn't seem all that possessive and dark anymore like it had been during foreplay.

He was looking at you with a type of sincerity that brought warmth to your soul.

You were under a spell, unable to disengage from his stare, even when he climbed back onto the bed, and spread your legs apart again. He briefly looked away from you to position his cock properly, and you watched the concentration on his face morph into mild enjoyment as he circled the head around your pussy teasingly.

Your eyebrows furrowed as your legs crossed around his waist, and he looked up at you through his eyelashes. Those perfect pink lips of his parted, and he whispered to you with one more squeeze to your thigh, "are you ready?"

Your hands reached out for him, fingers clasping together at the back of his neck as you nodded your head. "I need you, Paul, Please."

"Don't worry, my Love. I'll give you exactly what you need."

And with an unhurried push of his hips, he was inside of you, and the most beautiful sound escaped his lips, in limbo between a moan and a whine, and the look on his face was blissful, eyes shut and mouth hanging open at the feeling of you.

You let out a deep, concentrated, pleasing sigh. It hadn't been forever since you last had sex, but it was definitely long enough. The stretch from his member filled you up in the greatest way; and Paul took it real slow for you.

"Fuck, you're so wet. So tight," he mumbled under his breath, exhaling deeply with every roll of his hips. His eyes drifted back open to watch your face, lowering his brow and whispering to you, "my Love, you promise to tell me if I'm ever hurting you?"

Your face flushed red at his words, and you nodded a little.

"Yes, Paulie. Absolutely." Your quiet response was uttered though little moans, a hint of emotion laced in your voice.

You were partial to that specific nickname. You felt you maybe liked it too much, but there was no denying that responding to it felt so right, and Paul, you felt, seemed to think regarding you that way was okay, as well. It made you feel like you were actually wanted, and you'd be lying if you didn't say you hadn't felt that way in a very long time.

Paul leaned down, arms on either side of your head as he kissed your lips, and you kissed back, fingers unclasping so you could once again run your nails along his scalp and through his hair. He groaned at the attention, rocking a little deeper now, and you pulled away from the kiss to whine at Paul's actions.

You arched your back as his movements sped up, and you could hear his breaths quickening as he settled on a steady pace. One of his hands slid in under your back to hold you closer, and he dropped his head into the cook of your neck.

He started placing kisses along the side of your throat, and then on your collarbone. "You have no idea... fuck... how long I've waited for you." He mumbled those words against your skin, and your conscience shot right awake from its besotted trance as you hyper-focussed on his words.

"I have been dreaming about this for so many nights... for so many years..."

You couldn't believe what you were hearing. Sure, you'd known Paul for a while, but never in your life did you think he was even remotely attracted, to you let alone actively fantasizing about the very moment you were both experiencing.

Your chest burned, intensely aware that as soon as this night was over, this feeling of togetherness, intimacy, and affection was going to die out like a candle flame, and you were going to be alone all over again. Your eyes were glassy with tears as you tried to draw Paul closer, opting to remove your fingers from his hair to wrap your arms around his body.

You began to push your hips back against Paul's, recieving a pleased hum from him. Your hands rubbed tenderly over the hot skin on his back as he continued to pour his heart out to you, breaking yours more with every word that left his mouth.

"My sweet Love; to think I've wanted you for so long... and now I have you. I'm the luckiest fucking guy in the world."

"Paul," you whimpered, head resting up against his shoulder as tears streamed down your cheeks from your eyes. You weren't entirely sure what came over you, but before you could even think, you were whispering to him, "please don't leave me."

"Never. My Love, I'll always be right here." His response was so effortless, and quick, and your ears seemed to be ringing again. He put his other hand at the back of your head, pulling you in closer as your bodies continued to rock together.

You could feel another orgasm nearing, and Paul must have known from the sounds coming from your mouth. He pulled his arm out from under your back to reach between the both of you, thumb toying with your clit as you cried out again, hips jerking harder and quicker against him, his own pace stuttering as he could feel the walls of your heat contracting against him.

"I-- I'm gonna..." you choked, and Paul rubbed between your legs even faster.

"Come undone, my Love," he encouraged weakly as he tried his best to keep going for you. You dropped your head back against the pillows and you cried out as another orgasm rushed you, more tears falling down your cheeks, as you returned to that feeling of ecstasy you were in only minutes before.

Paul leaned up, forehead and chest shining with sweat as he continued to pound into you, long hair matted against his skin as his pace fell apart, shuttering as he pulled out of you and came all over your stomach.

His head fell back, eyes falling shut as he called out your name, cum leaking out of him and all over you, but you were far from caring. His breaths were heavy as he gasped for air, and after a moment of allowing the both of you to come down from the high, he slumped back onto his arms, head rolling to the side so he could open his eyes and look at the mess he made of you.

"Oh, Love, I'm sorry about all that. Let me just..." Paul took another deep breath before rolling himself off the bed, wandering on wobbly legs towards the connected bathroom. You could hear the faucet running for a moment as you stared directly up at the ceiling, beginning to wake your body up with a little wiggle your toes.

That was, without any doubt, the best sex you'd had in your life. And as Paul returned to you, two damp cloths in-hand, you figured the intimacy was over; that you'd clean yourself up and be kicked out of the room.

But when he took a seat at the foot of the bed again, and he reached up to your tummy to wipe his ejaculation off your skin, you found yourself falling into another daze.

The cloth was warm, and Paul took his time sliding it over you to clean you up, not a single word coming from his mouth. When he felt he cleaned your stomach well enough, he reached for the other cloth, wiping the sweat gingerly off your neck, and chest.

Every move was calculated, and even when he moved to wipe up the mess between your legs, he was careful of how sensitive you were, free hand caressing your thigh while he remained largely focused on cleaning you up.

You felt the assault of tears burning your eyes again as you watched Paul tend to you, and when he looked up to your face and realized your expression, his own fell to one of worry.

"... you okay?"

You nodded your head weakly, that was until you felt him squeeze your leg again. Your bottom lip began to tremble, and your hands came up to your face as you sobbed into your palms.

"Hey, hey, Darling, what's the matter?"

Paul even sounded worried, climbing up the mattress to be closer to you. You curled up into a little ball on your side, and Paul put his hand on your arm, rubbing it up and down to comfort you.

"I... I..." you didn't want to tell Paul necessarily what you were feeling, because then that would have meant telling him you enjoyed him a little too much. More than you thought was maybe appropriate.

"Please talk to me, tell me what I can do to make this all better," he begged, and you took a while to respond to him.

"Hold me," you whimpered, and Paul, without another second passing, swept you up in his arms, cradling you as you sat in his naked lap. His right arm circled your back as his left coaxed your head onto his shoulder before he began stroking your hair.

Your arms lazily circled around him as you cried into his shoulder, and Paul pressed his lips into a line, tears of his own threatening to fall.

"Did hurt you? Did I do something wrong, Love?"

"Please don't think that," you choked back. "You did everything so right. And that's the problem."

Paul's eyebrows, which were knit together in frustration and confusion, began to relax at the realization of your words. You both knew you were going to have to elaborate a little more at one point, but Paul didn't pry. He just continued to stroke your hair and rock you, soothing you of your negative emotions.

You pulled your head away from the crook of his neck eventually, and you looked Paul in his sweet, doe eyes. "You're so kind. Too kind," you sniffled. "Half of me wants to actually listen to the words you said, but it hurts too much. After what he did to me..."

You thought back to your ex for a moment. That slimy, cheating bastard.

"I can't even pretend to believe someone would love me like that again, because he stripped me of all that trust."

Paul seemed a little hurt at your words, taking a moment to decide what he was going to say next.

"... You don't have to believe it now, but I know everything I said to you was the truth."

You felt your bottom lip quiver again, and he pulled his hand from the back of your head to cup your face.

"Everything. Even when you asked me not to leave. I can't be certain you were being serious about that, but I want you to know that I'm serious. I won't leave you if you don't want me to."

You couldn't help but tilt your head into his touch as your red eyes drifted closed. He placed a kiss on your temple, mumbling into your skin, "please believe me when I say I did have some doubts about all of this. But having you here, in my arms right now... I have never felt so sure about anything in my life. I'm never going to let anything happen to you ever again."

"But how can I be so sure?" Your question was barely above a whisper, and Paul held you tighter, and closer.

"You've occupied a special place in my heart for a long while, now. If anything were to try and hurt you, and I'm there to protect you, I'd be doing everything in my power to keep you safe."

You could feel Paul turn your head towards him, and you opened your eyes.

"I know our last relationships didn't end well. I know we're still hurting from the past... But you make me so happy. Like I have something worth living for, and can think about the future without wanting to look back at the pain I'm wanting to desperately leave behind."

You had more emotions stirring in your heart again, but they were ones that made you feel fuzzy inside.

"... Would it be so wrong of me to tell you I feel the same way about you?" You asked him carefully. You couldn't believe how poetic he could be just talking to you. He had all the right words to say at any given time.

"Absolutely not," he replied easily, one of the corners of his mouth twitching at the relief that the feeling was, in fact, mutual.

You reached up to cup his face, thumb drifting against his beard as he leaned in to kiss your mouth. And you let him. It wasn't to initiate anything, only to project affection unto you.

He pulled away after a moment, breathing a quiet "Please, Darling, stay with me, tonight."

You smiled sadly at his request, but you shook your head a little. "What about Rich? He's gonna find out everything." That was another nail in the coffin, Paul decided, he needed to pry out.

"Well, he's just going to have to deal with the fact that I need you," he responded matter-of-factly, and your heart ached at that.

"I don't think you have any idea just how long I've restrained myself from talking to you, let alone flirt or try anything with you. I used to care so much about what Ringo thought, but all that matters now is you."

Paul removed his hand from your cheek to caress yours holding his own face. He pulled your hand off so he could kiss your fingertips, smiling just a little to try and encourage one on your own face.

"It's just us now. No one else. Okay, my Love?"

All you could seem to do was nod your head, but that appeared to be enough for him. He gave you one more peck and a little hand squeeze before sighing. "Let's splash some water on your face and get us ready for bed, hm? I don't know about you, but the last ten minutes have been an absolute workout for me."

You blushed a little when Paul sent a wink your way, but you shifted off his lap and stood up, as did he. He took your hand in his again and guided you to the bathroom, and as you wet your face with the water under the faucet, he tossed the damp face cloths in the laundry bin next to the toilet.

His attention was back on you, and he tucked your hair back behind your ear, placing a kiss under your earlobe. You smiled a little at the gesture as you watched him through the mirror, turning the faucet off and dabbing your face dry with the towel on the counter. Paul settled another kiss at the crook of your neck, and then one on your shoulder.

"You feel any better?" He asked lowly, his words vibrating against your skin. You held back a chuckle by biting your bottom lip, setting the towel back down next to the sink.

"A little, yeah."

"As long as the answer isn't no, I can live with that." He smiled at your reflection, arms wrapping around your body as he kissed your shoulder one more time. You placed your hands overtop his, which were planted on your hips.

"C'mon, now," he whispered, one of his hands unraveling rom your body to drift to the small of your back and leading you back out into the bedroom. He left you briefly to pop the window open a little, and you climbed in under the covers, him following suit just a few seconds after.

You rolled to your side to look at Paul, and he did the same, propping up on his elbow and dropping his head in his hand, other arm reaching out so he could cup your face again. He looked so happy, having you so close to him. It was such a contrast to how you found him earlier that night, and the difference made you feel rather glad you were still awake at such a late hour.

"Thank you for everything tonight," he offered gently. "The drinks we shared, the dancing, the intimacy, for letting me confess everything to you, for staying... thank you for being you."

"Aww, why can't I say anything that romantic and poetic to you?" You whined a little, and Paul laughed gently, his hand drifting down to squeeze your arm lovingly.

"Y'know, there will be so much time in the future for you to woo me."

"If I can learn to be as quick on my feet as you, perhaps," you argued back playfully, shifting forward a little so you could curl up into Paul's chest. His hand dropped to your spine so he could pull you in a little closer, thumb rubbing gently against your skin.

"You'll get there, Lovely. Sweet dreams." You hummed a little as your eyes fell shut, the feeling of Paul's thumb caressing you, and the sound of the trees rustling in the wind outside, as well as the rise and fall of Paul's chest had you lulling to sleep in no time. He, on the other hand, remained awake for a long while, holding you close to him as if it were his only purpose in life.

He wasn't worried about anything anymore; not even about whether Ringo would find out about the both of you before either of you planned... Despite leaving the evidence of two alcohol glasses still sitting pretty on the coffee table in the den for him to find first thing that next morning.

Paul eventually fell asleep as well, arms enveloping you from the cool night air seeping in from the window leading outside. His heart was feeling fuller than it ever had before, and it was all because of you.

______________________________________

A/A/N: I hope this lived up to your expectations, I haven't written anything NSFW in YEARS, but I'm pretty happy with how it turned out. Don't forget to like and comment, I love reading the comments on these :')

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Across The Universe (Paul McCartney x Female!Reader)

A/N: Yeah, I’m totally about to drop this, and a new chapter for TCND today. I don’t know how many of y’all like the Beatles, but I wrote this, and wanna see if anyone will really want another part.

OKAY SO I’m gonna say right now that I do not own, or are affiliated with the Beatles in any way (RIP), and this story is based off of/ heavily inspired by the 2007 movie Across The Universe, but the main characters, Jude and Lucy, are represented as Paul and the Reader. All of the characters mentioned, or are in this chapter (Other than Vick) are either real people, or characters from the movie. 

Although all of the descriptive writing is mine, the concept was taken from the movie. A lot of the writing here has been altered from the movie to better fit the characters and situations they are in. I’ve added/ changed parts that weren’t in the movie in the first place, and I left a little out, again, for the purpose of the plot to kinda make more sense. This fic will be more focused on the relationship developing between the two love interests than in the movie, so lots of iconic scenes from the movie (Such as Prudence’s first scene, Jojo’s introduction to New York, etc) won’t be included in the fic, though those characters will make appearances at some point.

I will make up for the lack of content there with more scenes of Paul and the Reader interacting/ in situations that didn’t happen in the movie.

I advise you watch Across The Universe, or have already watched it before you read to prevent spoilers, bc there will probably be a lot of those. (Watching it when high makes it even better tbh, there’s some trippy stuff in that)

A L S O , In this AU, the Beatles do not exist, although it is set in the 60′s!! Paul is legit just a 23 year old guy who wants to see the world.

Summary: Paul decides to head to the United States; You say good bye to your boyfriend before he leaves for Vietnam.

WARNINGS: Swearing, mentions of War, Mike McCartney calling Paul out on some bs, probably a couple of grammar errors bc it’s like... 5:30 AM where I am, and I haven’t slept yet :)

This little fic will be rated T. just because of the swearing

Prom went just as you'd expected it to: You had a nice meal, and did some wonderful dancing with your boyfriend. Despite the blisters on your feet from your shoes, you disregarded them as a temporary memory of one of the last times you'd see Daniel before he took off for the war.

When he got the letter in the mail, he opened it in your presence. Up until the day he died, he felt guilty for making you one of the first to know of his draft.

He cried in your arms for a long while, and you put all your strength into holding your tears back to bring him comfort in such a difficult time.

America had only just entered the Vietnam War, and it didn't seem real to any of you until the day Daniel got that fucking letter.

After talking it over with him, Daniel proposed that the both of you should just enjoy the remaining time you had before he'd have to leave.

And that's what put you here, in the passenger seat of Daniel's car, his mouth leeched onto your neck as his fingers tangled themselves in your hair.

"My mum and dad are home," you explained gently; solemnly. Daniel pulled away from your neck, instead moving to rest his lips on your forehead. "Of course."

He pulled away completely then, stepping out of the car and moving to the other side to hold your door open for you.

You stepped out, and Daniel interlaced his fingers with yours as you both walked up the drive to your house. The both of you listened to the clicks of Daniel's shoes on the pavement-- you were barefoot, your heels hanging from your fingers.

When he'd brought you up the porch, you turned to lean against one of the house's banisters. Daniel saw the look on your face, the one that just screamed 'please don't leave.'

"I'll be home soon," he said confidently, reaching out to squeeze one of your hands. "They give you a furlough after boot camp."

"And after that?" You never got a verbal response. Daniel just wrapped his arms around you tightly. You squeezed your eyes shut, and hugged him back with all the strength you had.

_____________________________

And at this time, across the Pond in Liverpool, England, Paul McCartney was walking home his girlfriend Molly, who he'd been out at a bar with all night, drinking and dancing to the live bands said bar had to offer that evening (and morning).

"Who'll take me out next week? You'll be halfway around the world." She threw a glance over her shoulder, and all Paul could do was offer her a cheeky smile.

"Well it better not be Phil Scully."

Honestly, Paul knew he deserved the shove Molly gave him not moments later, but he just threw his arms around her with a laugh as they turned down her street.

Paul tried to slip into his back door as quietly as he could, being sure to force a fake cough so he could discreetly lock the door.

He was finally safe. He took the time to puff out the air he'd been holding in his lungs, and he rested his forehead against the door.

"... Finally back, I see?"

Paul cringed.

Fuck.

"Yeah... sorry, Dad."

Paul turned around, and sure enough, there his father was: at the table, an empty plate of crumbs sitting in front of him, a cup of tea in his hand, and the Liverpool Echo in the other.

"Your brother just got home, too," Mr. McCartney mumbled as he brought his mug to his lips.

"He was with his girlfriend."

"I was, too," Paul defended as he opened the refrigerator and snagged an apple off one of the shelves before kicking the door shut and leaning against the counter.

Mike, Paul's brother, had just stepped into the kitchen with the same intention as Paul: getting breakfast.

"Mornin!'"

Paul nodded his head to his brother, mouth already full of apple.

"But I know who Mike's girlfriend is, James."

"Ooh," Mike smiled wickedly. He'd come in at just the right time. "Yeah, James, Dad knows who my Bird is."

Paul cringed a little at the name. James. The only people he really allowed to call him James was his parents.

"I just haven't... found the right time to introduce her, 's all," Paul excused after he swallowed. To avoid saying anything else, he went in for another bite of the fruit.

"No, it's because I actually love my girlfriend," Mike chortled as he popped a slice of bread in the toaster by Paul's arm, which just resulted in a playful shove from his older brother.

"I love my girlfriend," He argued back.

"But have you even told her that?"

Paul rubbed the back of his neck. "Well... not exact--"

"Point proven," Mike pointed to his brother, eyeing his father proudly.

"Look, all I'm saying, James, is that clearly, if you're stalling an introduction, you don't plan on keeping her 'round," Mr. McCartney explained.

"Dad, it's... it's complicated." Paul was rubbing the back of his neck again before taking another bite from his apple.

"There's just no point in wasting your time with someone you're just gonna throw away,"

"Whoa whoa whoa," Paul put his hands up at his brother's comment. "Who said anything about throwing anyone away?!"

"Well, you are going to America in a couple of days," Mike pointed out, grinning widely as his toast popped. He moved around the kitchen for a knife and some butter from the table.

"You really gonna stay with her when you're gonna have all those single American girls around to choose from?"

Paul didn't answer. He just shoved the apple into his mouth, rolled his eyes, and moved to the other side of the room, where the staircase leading upstairs was located.

He took a seat on the first two steps as he continued eating away at his breakfast.

"Paul, when I was your age-- maybe even younger than you, I met your mother. I knew she was The One after our first date. I took her home to meet my parents immediately."

Paul waited patiently for his father to get to the point.

"If you're not bringing her 'round, maybe she ain't the right one. Just think about it."

No one really said much else. Mike had started eating his toast, and Mr. McCartney turned his attention back to the paper, so Paul went upstairs.

He shut the door to his room when he arrived, and sighed happily at the sight of his bed. He climbed right on without taking his coat off. He kicked his legs up and stared at the ceiling as he finished off his apple, tossing the core into the waste bin next to him.

He understood where his father was coming from, and maybe he was right. But, Paul wasn't exactly looking for a long-term partner like all his other friends had done after they graduated from school.

Even Mikey had hopped onto that gravy train.

Paul was twenty-three. He still had plenty of time to find a girlfriend and settle down. That's why he decided to take off to The Land Of Opportunity. He wanted to get out and experience what it was like outside his dreary hometown before he devoted the rest of his life to a wife and kids, and living as a boring, stereotypical family until the day he died.

Did he have a Visa to legally work in America?

Fuck no. But it's not like that was gonna stop him from finding some form of income, whether or not it was technically legal.

Paul sat up in his bed, turning to peer into his closet.

He was pulling his suitcases from there moments later, and he unzipped all of them to begin packing. There was nothing he really needed to pack rather than his clothes, cigarettes, passport, a photo of his mother, and a small notebook containing all the phone numbers he'd had to keep over the years.

His cousin's number was the one he was particularly packing the book for. Paul managed to convince him to make room for him at his place he shared with his friends just outside the Princeton University Campus, where he was currently studying.

"You're a lifesaver, Vick" Paul mumbled as he tossed the book into one of the suitcases, and zipping it back up.

_____________________________

"Sometimes I feel like you're not tellin' me everythin'," Molly mumbled as she pulled away from the swelling kiss Paul was trying to leave her before he parted for America.

"I just need a break from here, Molly. I'll be back before you know it," he tried to comfort her with his gentle words, but she just looked upset. 

"N'd a break from me," it sounded more like a statement.

"Don't be ridiculous," he offered a smile, but when she didn't really react to it, Paul slipped his fingers into her hair, and threw it behind her shoulder.

"I'll be missing you by tomorrow,"

"I bet," she mumbled, eyes fixed on a pebble on the sidewalk between her feet.

Paul pinched her chin, and tilted her head so she was looking right at him. He looked more serious now.

"I'll write home everyday."

"You better."

"N'd I'll send all my loving to you."

And that's all it took.

"You bastard," Molly tried concealing her grin, but Paul had her wrapped around his finger, and she gave in to his charm.

And not long after, she was giving into another one of his desperate kisses.

_____________________________

"I promise, every day I'll write, babe. I love you so much," Daniel rushed his words out between quick kisses he left on your lips, his hands squeezing your own tightly. He pulled away soon enough to give you a smile, and then the car he was in started driving away. 

His hands slipped away from yours, and you suddenly felt cold.

You wanted to chase after the car, but your feet stayed glued to the road. Your heart felt strained as you watched the car drive off and around the corner.

Good-bye, Danny.

_____________________________

A/A/N: If you want me to continue on with this, please let me know! I really really like the Beatles, and I wanted to give Paul x Reader a try. As always, likes, replies, and reblogs are always appreciated. And I promise, the next chapter to this will be much, much longer, if y’all want it enough <3

Hey, I'm not dead

I'm sorry I've been inactive. This quarantine is kicking my ass, and I've had no motivation. It's all coming back, now though, so y'all should expect a new TCND chapter soon.

So, I'm also a massive Beatles fan and I watched Across The Universe (one of my faves) last night baked as hell and now I have inspiration to write about some of the Bug Boys. I just wanted to know what Y'all would think about me expanding my writing to more than one character. (Trust me, I love Rogie, but I also wanna see who else I'm capable of writing as)

Thank you all for your patience ❤❤