#the Beatle wives x reader

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

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

Find Part Two Here

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Can't sleep," you lied.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You took those offers graciously, and thankfully.

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

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

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

"He's not worth it."

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

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

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

"Yes. She was."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Why let tonight go to waste? End so soon?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"... Think so?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"More people need to be like you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

There was nothing to say.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"If you're not okay with it."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[losers-yurio]

Hey could you write something around the prompt "You love me as if I deserve you" for Pattie please? 💜🥺

Pattie Boyd x reader fluff (wlw)

Morning cuddling with pattie 🥺

YES thank you sm for sending this ilh

You couldn't see your alarm clock from where you were laying

But the light of the morning sun peeking in through the curtains told you that it was still early in the morning

Looking down you were met with tousled hair and the small features of pattie's face

You couldn't understand why but she adored sleeping on your abdomen

But you really couldn't complain

It was comforting the way she draped over you completely in bliss as she had not awoken yet

Smiling you mumbled to yourself

"You love me as if I deserve you" "what do you mean love?"

Perhaps you had thought wrong

"I wasn't aware you were awake" "well I am now so I suppose you better explain"

Her tone was definitely concerned

"It is just sometimes when I wake up everything feels like a dream that I'm terrified to wake up from"

"Oh love" she placed a small kiss on your stomach and moves so that she's at your eye level

"you know how much I love you right?" "I do, I'm just so scared of losing you" 

"love you'll never lose me, hell I'm not even sure you could get rid of me if you wanted to" 

you let out a small chuckle and she gave you another peck, this time on your nose

"now I do believe that it is way too early for us to be up on a day off don't you think?" 

Taglist:@makemeyourwife-loveofmylife and @emometalhead

[ladyinaesthetic]

Who do you think is the most underrated beatles girl/wife ? 🤔

I think either Olivia or Cynthia

[mysweetgeo]

Hello ! Could you do maybe an x reader fic where George confronts your ex to stop bothering and maybe gets a bit jealous ? Can't wait for the next part of I Need You ! xx

hello dear ! im so terribly sorry its taken me so long to write this (ive had a terrible writers block for months) and i hope this was worth the wait !

Jealousy

Request: Hello ! Could you maybe do an x reader fic where George confronts your ex to stop bothering you and maybe gets a bit jealous ?

Pairing: Early Beatles George x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of cheating and some sexual harassment

You hadn’t expected to see him tonight.

Especially not when you were with your new boyfriend.

And not when you knew how George felt about him.

You and George were chatting together in the one of the many corners in Brian Epstein’s large home.

You’d been having a lovely time, you and George had been laughing with the other Beatles about anything and everything. Everything seemed much more humorous with them.

George had casually thrown and arm around your shoulder after John ran off to tell Paul a joke.

His thin body molded to your curves in the most perfect way, completing each other like pieces of a puzzle.

You could tell by the way he was looking at you that he was buzzed, his dark eyes hooded and his pupils only allowing a sliver of his chocolate irises to show.

His mouth on your neck sends a shiver down your spine, and you’re about to ask him to take you to one of Brian’s spare bedrooms upstairs when you spot him across the room chatting with George Martin and his wife.

You still your movements and George notices, his droopy eyes following yours.

You swear you hear him growl, his arm shifting from around your shoulders to clinging to your hip.

Possessive.

The him in question being your ex boyfriend, Jason.

You’d forgotten entirely of his connections to the music and producing community, as that’s how you were introduced to George.

Jason was one of George Martin’s assistants a few years ago, and you’d been introduced to The Beatles at a party and had immediately clicked with George when the two of you were left stranded together because Jason had been off chatting with one of the female assistants and the remaining Beatles were either with their wives or joking with each other.

Needless to say, Jason had been sleeping with that female assistant and it led to your inevitable break up.

By that point you and George had become close friends and he had comforted you with snacks and cuddles for weeks before you would even leave your flat.

But that was nearly two years ago, now you and George were involved, and Jason had been off working with other producers.

Jason meets your eyes from across the room and as he approaches, his sly grin spreads across his face.

George’s hand on your hip tightens and he pulls you impossibly closer to you.

“(Y/N)! My love—I’ve missed you,” he exclaims, coming close to press a chaste kiss against your cheek.

George all but yanks you away from him, placing you behind him, “Get away from her,” he growls, baring his teeth.

“George,” he drawls, “my friend—“

George cuts him off, “You’re not my friend. Back away,” his voice attracts the attention of John and Paul, who start to make their way over to the three of you.

Jason throws his hands up in mock surrender, trying not to draw attention as George bares his teeth again, “Woah, I don’t want any trouble. I was just saying hello to an old friend.”

“No, you weren’t,” George’s voice makes him sound like he’s on the verge of pouncing on Jason, and you know there’s only moments before the inevitable happens.

“George, why don’t we go back to the lounge—“ You begin, your voice quiet.

Your voice seems to take his attention away from Jason, and his grip loosens as he looks around to see the small crowd of people who have taken notice of the interaction.

“Okay,” he says softly, his thumb rubbing small circles against your hip.

The two of you walk away from Jason, your head resting against his shoulder when you feel a hand smack against your bottom.

“Still bounces right back,” Jason says in a cool voice.

It all happens so fast that you don’t realize George has separated from you until he’s on top of Jason, throwing blind punches and screaming in his face.

John and Paul are quick to get George off of him and push him back in your direction.

John even offers to drive you both home, which you gladly accept.

In the car, George is quick to assess you, asking if you’re alright and if you are hurt at all.

You shake your head, pulling yourself into George’s arms, placing a tentative hand against his cheek just below his swollen eye, “You’re hurt,” you whisper.

“I’m fine,” he reassures you, holding you close against his chest.

You nuzzle yourself into his neck, your arms wrapped around his torso.

“Thank you,” you murmur into his ear.

“For what?” He asks.

“For protecting me,” you answer, pulling away to press a kiss to George’s cheek.

“Anytime, love,” he says, dipping his head to press his forehead against yours.

“You lot are just a bunch of saps,” John says from the driver’s seat.

“Oh hush, I think they’re sweet,” Cynthia says with a swat to John’s arm.

You and George are too busy being wrapped up in one another to bother replying, and when you arrive at your door you thank John and Cynthia before retreating into your house to climb into your shared bed and cuddle under the covers.

“I cannot believe you punched him,” you say with a light laugh, “I can only imagine the conversation you’re going to have with Brian at your next session.”

“He smacked your ass! What did you expect me to do,” George defends. “Besides, that’s my ass to smack, if I do say so myself.”

“A bit jealous are we?” You tease, tangling your bare legs with George’s.

“Never, I’m just stating a fact,” He clarifies, pulling you into his arms and pressing his lips to yours.

[goldenwilliamson]

hii uh this is weird but im super soft rn. could you write a george imagine where you're in labor/give birth to your first baby together (a girl) and its really soft and then the other boys and wives come to meet her and maybe show the first nights at home and how he reacts when the press/tabloids find out and just make it really soft and fluffy and sweet i trust your process. thank youuu ❤

oh my gosh this is not weird, it’s so sweet. i love reading things like this, so thank you for your request lovely!

pairing: george harrison x reader

summary: you and george welcome your baby girl into the world. the boys come to meet her, just general fluffy sweetness.

warnings: no warnings just pure fluff

word count: 829

“Here she comes!” The doctor announces cheerfully as you do your final push before you get to meet your baby. It’d been a long nine months and it hasn’t been easy but knowing that within seconds you’ll be holding your little girl on your chest seems to make this whole thing worth it. You can hear George murmuring encouraging things at your side, although everything is blurry you know he’s there for you.

“She’s here and she’s beautiful Mr. and Mrs. Harrison,” the doctor announces as hands your little girl over to you. 

“Oh my god,” you hear George’s voice break, and this alone makes you start crying. Emotions are high and you feel equally the happiest and most tired that you’ve ever felt. Regardless of how tired you feel, you look into the face of your beautiful baby girl and she is absolutely perfect.

“She’s perfect George.”

The nurses take her off of your chest to clean and wrap her up and take all her measurements. You close your eyes and take a deep breath; George is by your side holding your hand.

“I’m so proud of you,” he says, “You were incredible.” Before you can respond, the nurses ask about her name.

“You tell them,” you say to George, too tired to speak.

“We’re going to call her Grace,” George informs the nurses. 

“Gracie,” you mutter under your breath, pleased with the name that you two had settled on after months of debate. Grace for your grandmother. 

Within a couple of days, you and George are back at home and surprisingly, you’re feeling much better than you thought you would. You think it must be the excitement of being a parent for the first time and the fact that you and George get to do it all together. 

When the two of you get home, you lay her down in her cot to rest. You both stand over her, amazed at what you’ve created.

“We created her,” you turn to say to George which makes him laugh.

“This is unbelievable. Y/N we have a child. We’re parents,” he says in disbelief.

“She’s beautiful. Do you think she looks more like you or me?” You ask.

“You. She’s got your nose and eyes, I can already see,” George says, already having thought this through.

“You think?”

“Oh yes, look at it,” he says, bopping his finger on Grace’s little nose. 

“Little Gracie. She’s perfect. We created a perfect human George,” you smile.

“We did,” he says pulling you into his chest and resting his head atop of yours. George’s hugs can make even the worst days feel amazing. Being in his arms is your favourite place to be. 

Your third day at home Paul, Linda and Heather, Ringo and Mo, and Cyn, John and Julian all come round to check up on you both and meet little Gracie.

“Oh wow, she’s beautiful. Nice work Y/N,” Paul says as they enter the living room to where she is resting in her bassinet. 

“Thanks Paulie,” you laugh.

“Hey, she’s half my work too,” George adds.

“No, she’s all Y/N, look how cute her nose is. Just like her mamas,” Linda says, backing up Paul’s comment which makes your heart swell. 

Heather and Julian are absolutely enthused with Grace, trying their best at saying her same and stumbling over a few ‘Gwace’s’.

“Amazing Grace,” John sings the tune of the song quietly to her as he holds her in his arms. 

“She’s a beautiful little thing. Congratulations you two,” he tells you both. 

Ringo and Mo both awe at Grace as Mo holds her in her arms and gives you an emotional look. You two are very close and she knows how excited you are to be starting a family with George. She was such a good friend and advice giver through the whole pregnancy, and you can sense she is blown away that your baby girl is finally here. 

Within the days of the birth, the press goes nuts. Headlines on every publication about the new ‘Beatle Baby’. Ringo brings the papers by to show you, thinking it’s rather amusing how much attention little Grace is already receiving. 

“You know you’re the most famous baby in the world at the moment,” Ringo coos to your daughter, making both you and George laugh. 

As much fun as it has been showing off your beautiful baby to all your dearest friends and family members, the most precious times are when you and George are alone with Grace. 

One night about a week after Grace’s birth, you and George sit in your lounge room as the warm afternoon light casts itself over you three. George sits with his guitar and strums gently as Gracie lays soundlessly sleeping in your arms. You can’t help but beam with joy as you look between the two people you love the most in the world. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever been happier,” you tell him. 

“Me either.”

[kalypsichor]

all things must pass [ beatles x reader ]

summary: Moving on is easy. The hardest part is finding a reason to stay.

prompt: If you vibe with it, maybe hcs or something about beatle!reader reconnecting with the guys after the breakup? warnings: none

masterlist

see end for notes

For half an hour, everything is like it used to be.

You’re all still in the industry making music and crowding the charts, so it’s no surprise when the ex-Beatles are invited to some big shot gala in London. It doesn’t take long for you all to gravitate towards each other; you find Paul at the refreshments, he waves Ringo over from the table, and the three of you find George blending into a potted plant near the back.

The champagne loosens lips and bubbles into easy laughter, low chatter about the week and the news. Ringo is the most laid-back. He still plays on your guys’ albums. It’s him, really, that acts as a conduit of conversation between the group, insulating any tensions below the surface. You tease Paul about his new look and George, mostly content to just listen, jumps in from time to time with a dry remark that makes everyone chuckle.

“Having a little meeting without me?”

Half an hour is all too short.

Your little circle breaks open and accepts a fifth: John. Yoko isn’t far behind.

Acerbic. That’s what it is. Everything from his stance to the set of his lips, crooked and tight. His words, too, although those betray what his eyes try to hide: hurt.

“Not at all.” Ringo smiles and gestures with his glass. “We were just waitin’ for you to join.”

John ignores him, stares steadily at Paul. Ringo’s grin doesn’t falter, but you’re standing right next to him. There’s a little gap between his sunglasses (prescription, he says) and you can see the smile lines smooth over, pulling down a slight furrow between his brows. To anyone else, the slight change would be unnoticeable.

You suspect that Ringo’s sunglasses help him mask more than his worsening vision.

“How are you, John?” Paul settles on. Yes, that’s the safest option, the blandest one. John knows this, if his dry chuckle is any indication.

“Fine.”

Yoko melds into his side and John’s arm curls around her as she speaks. “And you, Paul?”

“Oh, great.” Paul scratches at his beard and as if on cue, Linda appears at his side. “We’re startin’ a band, actually.” They share a smile, one that immediately makes you feel like an outsider.

No one says anything for a while. The party goes on, the murmur of noise parting around you all like a stream would a stepping stone.

“We’re doing good, too,” you say, itching to break the silence. “Ritchie’s been busy, running ‘round our studios, eh?”

Ringo laughs. George only lifts the corner of his lips and stares into his wine.

“It’s like Liverpool all over again,” Ringo says. You all laugh except for John. There’s nothing else to do. It sounds like canned laughter on television, and the thought drops your expression.

Paul picks up the conversation again. It’s like throwing a life raft into the ocean, but none of you know what you’re trying to save. “So, George. Congrats on the triple album. Number one here and in the States, yeah? You beat the rest of us to it, you bastard.” George smiles and shrugs. “Guess we should’ve listened to you more in the studio.”

You can see the life raft sinking.

“Yeah, you should’ve,” George says. Simple as that, but the words still make you flinch. There’s no sharpness to what he says. George isn’t angry. No, he’s moved on. On to finally having his music out there, on to being heard. You’re torn between being happy for him and wanting to grab him by the shirt collar, grab all of them, and drag them back to how it used to be.

No, you’re not that torn. Happiness is the obvious choice. And you’ve moved on all the same, going your separate way.

Do you miss it? Being an ‘us’? At first it felt like being torn into pieces, but with every day that’s passed you’ve found it harder and harder to want to go back. There were the disagreements, the fights and the lawsuits. Just as bright in your memory is all the laughter, real laughter, and the wonders and excitement of being at the top together. The toppermost of the poppermost. But as you’ve gotten older, you’ve come to realize the naivete of holding onto things. Change is only natural. Change comes with growth. And, sooner or later, you had all known you’d grow out of the Beatles.

Yes, moving on is easy. The hardest part is finding a reason to stay.

Ringo goes first. Pats you all on the shoulder and ambles off to the bar for a drink or two or nine. He’ll see you at the studio next week, yeah? His words are slurring into each other but you know his drumsticks won’t be missing a beat. George follows him, murmuring about making sure Ringo gets home okay, and catches up to the man with long, easy strides. He doesn’t look back.

That leaves John and Paul and their wives. And you. John looks at Paul. Paul watches John. Yoko stares up at her husband and Linda smiles apologetically at you. What she’s sorry for, though, you have no idea.

You can’t find anything to say that won’t fall to deaf ears, so you say your good nights and turn to find your way to the exit.

The sound of your name being called from behind slows your steps. It’s John. You look around for Yoko but he’s walking with you… alone. Your confusion doesn’t go unnoticed.

“She’s getting our coats.”

You nod and come to a stand still, searching his eyes. He’s struggling to say something. You’ve known John long enough to know better than ask what. He has to find it himself.

“Didn’t get to ask earlier, but. How are you?”

It’s not what John really wants to ask, you know. “I said I was good,” you say carefully.

“Right.” John nods and clears his throat. “And the others, they’re alright?”

Your gaze softens at his obvious embarrassment at the question. Your hand finds its way to his. “Yes, John. Everyone’s okay.” Then, more quietly, “We miss you.”

Like being shocked, John tears his hand away from your hold. His face is flushed, eyes guarded but sharp. Piercing. You don’t look away, no matter how much it hurts.

“Fuck off,” he sneers. His words are loud, rising tone attracting attention from some of the other guests. It’s always been like this with John—hot and cold, one second vulnerable and vicious in the next. “You think I want to hear your, your- what, sympathies? Don’t fucking lie to me. I know you’re all glad to finally get away.”

A hand on his shoulder—Yoko. The touch seems to drain the anger from him and he deflates, chest still heaving a little from his outburst. When his eyes meet yours again, they’ve gone flat. Uncaring. His default, you’ve learned over the past decade, for whenever he starts caring too much.

Not that there is such a thing.

“We’ll see you,” Yoko says as though nothing has happened. You just nod and watch her lead John out of the doors and into the streets. Before they step outside, though, the passing glare of a car sets their silhouettes aflame; two people with smiles for no one else but themselves, noses almost touching, eyes closed.

It’s time for you to go, too. Tomorrow will be another early morning, another late night. Before you step out into the dark that swallowed John and Yoko, you look back over your shoulder. Paul is still standing where you left him. His head is turning back, not from looking at you, you know, but from watching the others leave. He looks so small from far away. Just a man. And Linda in front of him, with her hands on his shoulder, seems almost to be the only thing keeping him standing. She says something to Paul and he finally moves on. They disappear into the crowd of partygoers together.

And you, alone, disappear into the night.

- - -

what a short request. but it caught my imagination in a whirlwind, which resulted in this!

@ the anon who requested this, it’s probably not what you had in mind. sorry! but i’ve been reading a lot about the beatles and their stories and i wanted to put some of my thoughts to writing. well, not really my thoughts, but my interpretation of the aftermath. their relationships with each other and how they changed and fell apart is fascinating and convoluted. i hope i did it all justice... and i hope some of my symbolism didn’t fall short...?

lemme know your thoughts on this different sort of fic in the comments or by submitting a sentence or two! i’d love to know :)

[themagicalmysticalboy]

Beatles Fic Requests:

hey babes✌🏻😜

✨‼️check my bio to see if requests are open‼️✨

cashapp (faultyfriend) if you wanna help a girl out

stuff i will write:

shiping amongst The Beatles (McLennon, Lennison, Starrison, etc)

Beatles and their wives

beatle x reader (male and female)

drug use and violence

near deaths

mentions of self-harm

suicidal thoughts

fluff

angst

hurt/comfort (my fav)

AUs

stuff i won’t write:

explicit self-harm

suicide

smut (except if it’s Lennison 🥴)

kinks/fetishes

poly

Yoko. (sorry not sorry)

if you don’t specify if there should be a ship or if it’s platonic i’ll probably just go by gut feeling

if you don’t specify angst, hurt/comfort, etc i’ll also go by gut feeling

my smut is very vanilla btw. i’m a simple bitch with simply needs

[lovely-rita-meter-maidd]

What I do write:

- any Beatles ship (mclennon, starrinson, poly!beatles etc)

- any Beatles x wives ships (JohnxCynthia, PaulxLinda etc)

- fluff

- angst

- smut

- violence is acceptable as long as it’s not graphic

What I don’t write:

- explicit self harm

- suicide

- non-con in detail

- violence in detail

- hc’s where Beatle is neurodiverse (tourette’s, autism etc)

- reader x Beatles

———————————————————————

If anybody is still unsure about an anything, feel free to send in an ask 🌸✨

[mirkwoodshewolf]

We will rock you assistant; Queen x teen reader

*Author’s note*

Hey all, well here I am with yet ANOTHER UPDATE YAAAAAYYYY!!! Okay so in this fic that was requested on my Wattpad, I had made you the reader, Roger’s sister (they asked for either Bri or Rog and I went with our fabulous blondie hehehe). Anyways not really any big warnings except for the FLUFFINESS, but if I had to pick individual warnings I’d say swearing, mentions of P**l Pr***ter, scars (NOT SELF INFLICTED), animal attacks. So enjoy my lovely darlings :)

Taglist:

@psychosupernatural

@plethora-of-things

@ixchel-9275

@geek-and-proud

@queendeakyy

@coolcxt

@waddles03

____________________________________________________

It was 1977, I had finally returned from my 4 year study abroad program that counted towards my shot at a biology major.  And there was an offer saying that if you wanted to complete a 4yr program rather than a full college career that was also an option, so I actually got spend the rest of my secondary school year (years 10-13) down in Queensland, Australia to study in the Zoology program.

I’ll admit it was hard the first year I was there because I had never been that far away from home ever in my life on my own, but I made some really good friends and the professors there were amazing that they became parental figures for us rather than just our teachers.  I got to learn a lot about Zoology and the study of the animals of South America. But it was so good to be home.

Especially now since I get to finally see my big brother after 4 years of not seeing him. And some of you may know him, blonde hair, blue eyes, incredible drummer. Yep I’m talking about the famed Roger Taylor, drummer of Queen.  

When I first told him about the program he at first being the overprotective big brother that he was, refused to let me go.  We fought about it constantly until that’s when our mother made the final decision and allowed me to go because she thought this would be a good experience for me. Especially now since she couldn’t afford another kid going to college at the time.

He was also outnumbered because the rest of the band thought it was also a good thing for me to experience.  Oh yeah, did I not mention that I’m real close with the band? Yeah I’ve known all of them since they formed Queen, but besides my brother, Brian is the one I’ve known the longest.

In fact he was the first to agree that going to Australia for this program would be wonderful to get a full experience background and it would help in future job applications in the future.  Brian’s like a second brother to me so I know that if Roger won’t give into my ways, I can always fall back on Brian to be ‘Brother of the year.’

And Freddie and Deacy were a blessing to have around as well.  Freddie was known to the world by now as the frontman of Queen, but to me he’ll always be known as Freddie, King of the cats and lord of fashion.  He’s always been there to help cheer me up whenever I felt a little blue or after a big fight with my brother, and Deacy was the band’s bass player and mediator if things got chaotic, but whenever it was just the two of us, we got to share an interest of our studies so if he had to do anything regarding to biology I was there to help him as best as I could and he taught me a little bit about electronics and how they worked.

So even though there were tears shed on the last day of spring of 1973, I told the boys I would keep in contact and write every single day and they promised the same thing.  Of course people in Australia knew who Queen were by 1975 when their 4th album ‘A Night at the Opera’ came out.

All my friends couldn’t stop talking about it and some couldn’t stop listening to it, and I was the same way.  But it also helped me out whenever I got homesick and missed them too much.  Just hearing their voices and instruments play brought me back to home and back to them.

And now here I am, standing before the studio where mum said they rehearsed and recorded their albums.  While I was beyond thrilled to finally see the guys again, I was also really nervous.

Cause I mean last time I saw them, sure they were popular but only just through England, Japan and America.  They were still rising stars, now ever since A night at the Opera, they’ve completely exploded to the levels of Elton John, David Bowie, ACDC, the Beatles, and a hell of a lot of other rockstars.  And sometimes egos get in the way or they just forget about who their families are and never talk to them anymore once they’ve hit it big.

I was worried that with as long as I’ve been gone, the four of them probably forgot all about me, or just didn’t want to have anything to do with me anymore. I stood before the door of the studio about to go in but I stopped and set my bags down.

“Okay, calm down (y/n), you can do this. You’ve known these guys since forever. You gotta make this reunion right.” I then did a practice mock turn and said with the most angelic voice, “Greetings my brothers.” I groaned out.  Pathetic.

I then tried another tactic, a simply grand gesture wave but making my voice all high and strange sounding but that didn’t work.  Then I thought, maybe a simple hide and suddenly appear as they come out.  I managed to find a shrub tree so I grabbed that, set it in front of the door and hid behind it before practicing peeking out and saying oh so casually.

“Oh hey guys, didn’t see you there.” I groaned and muttered to myself, “None of this is going to work.” I sighed heavily. “Maybe just a simple, sincere welcome back. Yeah, yeah that’ll do it. It’s only just the most important reunion of your life, what could go wrong?”

*3rd Person POV*

After waiting for over an hour and a half for Freddie, the remaining three members who had come with their wives all decided that they should return home since this rehearsal didn’t seem important enough for their lead singer.

“All that waiting for nothing.” Exclaimed Roger.

“Well we should’ve expected this, I mean after all since—well you know he and Mary broke up and Paul weaseled himself into his life, he’s been a bit….off.” Brian said.

“I only just wish he hadn’t made such a big deal about coming to rehearsal and then not show up himself.” Stated Deacy.

“He’ll come around love, meanwhile why don’t we all head out for some lunch. Our treat boys since you all have worked so hard.” Offered Veronica, his lovely wife.

“No love we can’t ask that—”

“She’s not asking. We’re offering.” Stated Chrissie, Brian’s wife.

“Thanks darling.” Brian said softly as he softly pecked her cheek.  That was until Dominque, Roger’s wife took a hold of the door and they were all shock to reveal a young teenage girl with bags and suitcases behind her.

“Sup party people I’m back in the hizz-hou—ohh no! God that was so American of me to say, why did I let Zack convince me to talk like that? I’m so sorry that was terrible, can I get a do-over?”

*My POV*

Well I totally fucked that greeting up. Hizz-house? Really? God next time I see that boy I’m gonna strangle him.  I saw my brother with a raven-haired girl standing beside him, in fact Deacy and Brian all had girls by their sides.  Deacy was arm to arm with a beautiful blonde woman while Brian had a brunette.  

All three of my boys looked at me, almost like they were ready to bawl, especially my brother.  I smiled softly and said.

“Hey Rog.” He just stood there.  All was silent then just before I could say anything else, Roger rammed himself into me, picking me up in his arms and spinning me around.

I let out a shriek at first but immediately hugged my brother back as he cheered happily, hugging me as tight as he could all the while kissing all over my face.  After what felt like eternity, he finally set me down but refused to let go of his embrace. Not that I minded anyway, I missed him just as much as he missed me.

“Oh (y/n) I can’t believe it’s you. You’re—you’re actually here. Home at last!”

“I know, 4 years seems like forever.”

“You have no idea lovie, god I’ve missed you like crazy.” He hugged me once again before getting a second look at me, “Ohh look at you. You’ve grown so much. Last I saw you, you were this big.” He gestured playfully as he placed his hand to his waist.  I playfully shoved him and exclaimed.

“I was never that short, you overgrown blonde giant!”

“Don’t you raise your voice at me little Ms. Thumbelina!” The two of us glared at each other for a brief moment before I let out a giggle and hugged my brother one last time saying.

“Oh I’ve missed you so much big bro.”

“And I you little sis.” It was then my attention turned toward Deacy and Brian. I got out of my brother’s arms and slowly walked towards them cautiously.  Okay so the reunion with Rog was an immediate check point, but I guess that’s to be expected because he’s my brother, but what about the two guitar players of Queen.

“Bri, Deacy. Been a long time. I hope you hadn’t forgotten little ol—” but then just like Roger, but instead of one of them coming up to embrace me, both of them did. Sandwiching me between them.  I smiled as I leaned my head against Deacy’s chest and tried to hug both of them with each arm as best as I could.

“Oh love look at you. You truly have grown into a beautiful young woman. Last we saw you, you were just a kid and now just look at you.” Said Deacy.

“Well how about you? Last I saw you your hair was down to here, now you’ve cut it to a true man’s hairstyle.”

“Do you hate it?”

“No this look suits you just fine. Though I can’t say I’ll miss braiding your hair in secret while you sleep.”

“So it was you who was doing that!” he exclaimed.

“Hey Rog goaded me on. He said I couldn’t do it without waking you up.”

“Don’t you drag me into this!” my brother exclaimed.  I playfully stuck my tongue at him when I was pulled away by Brian. He spoke not a word but just smiled lovingly down at me as he placed both of his hands at each side of my head before gently caressing downward around my face till he cupped each side of my jawline.  A common sign of affection he always did with me.

“They weren’t lying. God you’ve really become a woman now.”

“I know, but I also know that like Rog you can’t help but imagine me as that little girl you first met when my brother joined Smile.”

“That I do.” He smiled softly and gingerly kissed my forehead before hugging me close to him.  It wasn’t until a throat cleared and that’s when my attention turned towards the three women standing there.

“Hate to spoil the reunion, but just letting you guys know we’re still here. And we would like to know just who this famed young girl that has our husbands’ wrapped around her finger is.” The blonde spoke up.  There was no trace of malicious or jealousy in her words, but there was a hint of teasing towards the end.

“Sorry. Chrissie, Veronica, Dominque. This young woman is our biggest fan, future zoologist and Roger’s younger sister, (Y/n) Taylor. (Y/n), this is Brian’s wife Chrissie, Dominque, your sister in law and my lovely wife, Veronica.” Deacy said introducing us.

“Ohh so I’m finally meeting the three famed wives of Queen. Each of your husbands have told me a bit about you, I can’t believe I didn’t put two and two together when I first saw you.” I spoke as I walked up and stood before them.

“Believe us, the boys have told us all about you, especially Roger.” Said Dominque.

“Oh god I swear if he told you any embarrassing stories about me, forget them they didn’t happen the way he says they did. And he’s responsible for most of them happening.” I shook hands with my sister in law and she smiled down at me and she whispered.

“Don’t worry I had your back in defending your honor.” Before winking at me.  Oh I like her already.

“I can’t believe we’re finally meeting the famous (y/n). I especially have been looking forward to this moment for 4 years. The way my husband talked about you I expected to meet a little girl, but you my dear are so grown up.” The brunette Chrissie said.  I smiled and said.

“They all still see me as that little girl, guess it’ll take time for them to see me now.”

“Lovie no matter how big you get you’ll always be my baby sister.” Roger teased as he wrapped his arm around my neck and playfully pinched my cheek.  I whined and shoved him off and that’s when I began looking around.

“Where’s Fred?” at the mention of his name, the guys went either stoic or pissed off.

“C’mon in the studio love, there’s a lot you need to catch up on.” My brother lead me inside the studio while Deacy and Brian grabbed my bags and we all went back into the studio.

It was then I was filled in on everything that had happened.  Apparently now Mary and Freddie broke up with each other and his assistant Paul Prenter had slowly began to move into his life.  Now I vaguely remember meeting Paul a couple of times, but even then I knew there was something about him that I didn’t like.

“Geez, poor Freddie.”

“Paul’s poisoning his mind.” Stated Deacy.

“I wouldn’t doubt that. I mean, even with the couple times I’ve actually met him, I knew I didn’t like him. One look into his eyes and it’s like a Taipan is staring right back at you.”

“Taipan?” asked my brother.

“One of Australia’s most dangerous snakes. One of the boys in my group got bitten by one about a year ago. We never saw it coming; it was wrong place, wrong time.”

“Jesus was he okay?” asked Dominque.

“Yeah, luckily we managed to get him to the hospital where they gave him anti-venom.”

“What’s that?” asked Chrissie.

“They milk venom from the snakes and with the help of some brilliant chemists and scientists, they can create a potent to counteract the venom in the body. If they are given it in time, and it has to be from the same species of snake or spider or whatever venomous creature you’re getting it from. If you use black mamba anti-venom to counteract a rattlesnake venom, it does nothing.”

“Wow, the things science is doing for us nowadays.” Said Veronica.

“Okay so we’ve established the fact that Paul’s a snake, but what can we do to help Freddie?” my brother demanded.  No one spoke up until I said.

“I guess the only thing we can do is just be there for him as much as we can.”  The guys were hesitant but they agreed solemnly. “So what were you guys up to before I got here?”

“Well we were supposed to rehearse at Freddie’s request but of course he decided to not to show up.” Answered Deacy.

“So we were gonna head out and treat the boys to lunch, would you care to join us?” asked Veronica.

“Yes please, if you don’t mind. I’ve been on a plane for over 12hours with only snacks to keep me happy. And don’t get me wrong but plane food can only go so far.”

“Then have no fear sister dear, let’s get that tummy of yours filled with some real meat.” Roger as he poked my stomach making me curl up and push his hand away. It was then Brian spoke up.

“(Y/n), what’s that scarring on your leg?” I looked down and sighed.

“Well let’s just say Cody, the boy who got bit by a snake wasn’t the only one who experienced an animal attack. Mine however was a bit more vicious.”

“What happened? What hurt you and how come you never told me about this? How long ago was it?” Roger began frantically asking questions in a demanding tone.

“Rog relax I lived. Aaron got a bit cocky thinking that just because he was from Texas he could wrangle any pig. So he snuck out away from the school grounds and found a trial leading to a herd of wild feral pigs. Nearly got himself killed had I not been there to save his sorry ass. Thankfully before the pig could tear a main artery, the professor came and fired a gun into the air which scared the boars away. Had to be given over 20 stitches and 4 weeks of bedrest, but at least I didn’t end up with an amputation.”

“Did they call mum and inform her what had happened? How long ago did it happen?”

“It happened 6 months after joining the program, and yes they did. They always inform the parents of anything that happens to the students, and critical injuries or hospital visits are immediately told to the parents.”

“Well why didn’t she call me about it?”

“Weren’t you guys on the American tour around that time?” He shrugged before wrapping his arms around me bringing me close to him.  “Hey, I’m alright. Just hurt like a bitch but I’m okay.” I said softly as I rubbed his forearm.

“I just wish I could’ve been there. I could’ve saved you, helped made you comfortable as you were on bedrest. Kissed your boo-boos away.” I groaned out his name he softly chuckled and said, “still scars or not you’re still every bit the baby sister I know and love. I’ll take you no matter what.” He stroked down my hair and leaned his head on top of mine.  I smiled and nuzzled into his neck until Brian spoke up.

“We’ll try coming here again tomorrow, but for now I say let’s celebrate our best girl’s return with a well-earned English lunch.”  Everyone was in agree so we took my bags, placed them in the trunk of my brother’s car and we all headed out to lunch.

Throughout the entire day, we spent the day at my favorite restaurant and I told them more about the program and how my official diploma would be shipped to me in the next month or so.

The next day it was pretty much like the same thing as yesterday.  I was sitting between Chrissie and Veronica on the couch. Roger and Dominque were sitting together on a chair looking through a boating magazine.  Deacy who was sitting on the other side of Veronica were talking together while Brian sat on the drum risers.  I’ve noticed that for the past hour he’s been softly tapping his foot twice and softly clapping his hands.

“What about this one?” muttered Roger.

“This one is for me.” Dominque spoke.

“I don’t see how you can buy a boat Rog, and most importantly where would you keep it?” I questioned.

“First of all it’s a yacht, totally different. And second down by the docks of course. We’ve got a lake house that we bought about a year ago.”

“How come you always get the good stuff when I go away?”

“Aww don’t worry love, I’ll buy you one soon enough. Till then you can take the basement whenever you come and visit.”

“Roger, don’t you boot your sister down there, it’s not even finished.” Dominque said.

“Thank you Nicky, you’re the best sister I could ever ask for.” I reached out for her hand and she took mine.

“Everyone up on the drum risers.” Brian suddenly stated as he now stood up.  We were a bit confused a bit till Brian emphasized his point once more, “Up on the drum risers.”

“Finally some action!” I moaned out as I sat up and as I walked up Brian said.

“Thank you (y/n), showing some enthusiasm.” As I stood beside him, he wrapped his arm around me and kissed the top of my head as I hugged him around his waist. It was then Deacy spoke up.

“Just (y/n), or all of us?”

“Yes, yes c’mon John. Everyone up, I’m not waiting any longer.” Soon everyone got off their butts and walked up onto the drum risers.  Chrissie stood to my left while Dominique stood to my right.

“Bass?” questioned Deacy as he made the gesture of holding his bass guitar in his hand but Brian told him and even gave him a mock kick to his bum.

“No don’t need it, get up. Well c’mon Rog take your time.”

“Alright. What’s this about?” Roger spoke as he was the last to get up on the stage and that’s when Brian said.

“You remember our last concert? The crowd were singing our songs back to us. I mean it was deafening but—it was wonderful. They’re becoming a part of our show. I want to encourage that so…..I’ve got an idea to involve them a little bit more.” He then began stomping the ground twice before breaking on the third beat. He did that a few times before John sneered with sarcasm.

“Genius.”

“Thank you John.” Brian spoke mockingly.  I just rolled my eyes at their interaction before Brian urged all of us again, “C’mon.” Soon everyone started to stomp along with Bri.  I felt a little out of place and I was just about to slowly back off when Brian spoke again, “That means you too (y/n).”

“R-really?”

“Yeah, now c’mon join the ranks.” My brother then pulled me between him and Deacy and I joined in on the rhythmic stomping.  “Good. Now I want you to clap on the third beat.”  Soon it formed into a STOMP, STOMP CLAP. STOMP, STOMP CLAP.

“Don’t speed up!” My brother claimed but he looked down at me and playfully bopped my nose.  I glared playfully up at him as Brian said.

“Rog keep that time.” We all continued the tempo following my brother’s lead when I heard Brian speak up again after he had turned toward the piano to play a single key, “No Prenter? It’s unusual to see you without your clone?”

“It’s unusual seeing you be so bitchy.” I looked up to see the last Queen member I didn’t see the other day, the front man himself Freddie Mercury.  He looked different as well, much like Deacy his hair was now shorter.

“That’s usually me.” Deacy spoke as he pointed to himself and I playfully bumped into his arm.  Brian turned back around toward us and playfully teased my brother.

“Ahh you’re keeping time Rog, good.” I heard my brother playfully scoff and that’s when Freddie stood beside Bri and asked.

“What’s going on?”

“You’d know if you were on time.” Said my brother as we all ceased our stomping and claps and he wrapped his arm around my shoulders.  Freddie turned to look at my brother as he said.

“I’m a performer darling not a Swiss train conductor.” He then turned to Brian and said, “Sorry I’m late.”

“Again.” Deacy spoke bluntly.  Fred turned back towards us and when he finally took notice of me he said.

“And just who is here with us today?”

“If you were here yesterday Freddie, you’d realize it’s me.” His eyes widened and he said.

“No way, (y/n)? Little (y/n) Taylor?” I nodded and grinned at him.  He grinned back at me and stated as he pointed at me, “Afterwards, you and me, outside. We’ve got some things to talk about.” He then turned back to Brian and continued, “Now back to the matter at hand, will you please tell me why you’re not playing any instruments?”

“I wanna give the audience a song that they can perform. Alright? Let them be a part of the band so what can they do?” Brian then resumed stomping and clapping two times before we all resumed and joined him.  Even Freddie joined in at one of the claps.  “Imagine….thousands of people. Doing this in unison, hmm?” Freddie had a processing look in his eyes before finally saying.

“What’s the lyric?” And it was then a new Queen hit was being born.

As the day went on, I walked over to Brian who was at the controls with pieces of paper scattered around him, pencil in head connecting it to his brain trying to get the right lyrics.  I slowly walked up towards him and asked.

“So this is how the great Brian May works his lyrics?” He turned to me and he smiled.

“It’s how we all work. Though you should’ve seen us when we went to Rockfield farm to record a Night at the Opera. Sheet music everywhere.” I chuckled and sat down next to him in the extra chair.  I grabbed one of the lyrics sheets and read the lyrics.

“This is good Brian.”

“You think so?”

“Yeah, I mean just based off of the rhythm you had going down, made me think about all the sporting events that happened back down in Australia. You think London is fanatic when it comes to football, you clearly haven’t seen the Aussie’s do it, along with rugby. Those fans get insane.”

“I can imagine. But I’m unclear of which order to do some of the lyrics.” I stood up and placed the lyric sheet I had back down and leaned over his shoulder to read what he had so far.

“Why not do it like an evolution type thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean like you’ve got each new stanza starting with man. But why not go in age order. Start with a young boy who once started off in the schoolyard kicking mud around, then the young ambitious young man thinking he was gonna rule the world someday, kinda like what my brother envisioned.”

“Before finally ending it with an old man, after all is said and done all he wants is peace. Love you are brilliant!” he gasped before bringing me into his lap and hugged me tightly.

“What would you guys do without me?”

“Probably have another car song by your brother.”

“Oh don’t even get me started on that.”

“So you agree with me?”

“Yes, infinitely. I was embarrassed at just hearing the song being played by some of my fellow zoologists, mainly the boys who were also car nuts like my brother.”

“Oh I see how it is!” We looked up to see my brother standing there with his arms crossed over his chest.  He walked over to me continuing, “You also think my song’s stupid? Siding with this rotter here?”

“I’m sorry Rog but you’ve got to admit it makes you sound like you’d have sex with a car.”

“At least one Taylor sees the problem with your song.” Brian pipped in.

“You keep out of this!” Roger pointed to Brian.  He then directed his attention to me, he gestured with his finger a ‘come hither’ motion, “You come here.”

“No, no Rog I know that look! Back away from me!” I warned him as I got off of Brian’s lap immediately recognizing the sign of what he was going to do.

“You’ve got nowhere else to go (n/n). Only one way out of here and you gotta get by me to get to it.” I backed myself into a corner as he kept walking toward me.  I quickly looked around before running to the left but he followed and blocked my path.

However what he didn’t expect was for me to go to the right and race out but just before I managed to get out of the door, Roger grabbed me around the waist and threw me over his shoulder.

“Oi yah big goober! Put me down! Roger I’m not kidding I’m not seven years old anymore you can’t do this to me!!”

“Not till you apologize, ready for the helicopter?”

“No! Please Rog anything but tha—HEY!!” As we were now in the middle of the studio, he began to spin me around.  “Stop it! Rog I’m not kidding put me down!”

“Not till you change your mind about my song.”

“Never.”

“Okay then you’re not getting down.” He kept the act up for about 10 minutes till I finally relented and gave my brother what he wanted, even though my opinion didn’t change.  I just wanted to stop the room from spinning and the blood from going to my head.

After helping the boys record the song, I was allowed to go to my first Queen concert in over 4 years.  We were at Madison Square Garden and I was up in the front row in a special center-stage reserved seat that the boys managed to swindle for me.

And getting to see them on a bigger stage with a larger audience and more fans than they did when I last went to a Queen concert at the Rainbow back in ’74 before I left for my program.  They were now full-fledged Rock-gods and I was honored to be apart of their close circle, hell I’m lucky to be related to one of the band members themselves, and a surrogate sister to the other three.

[buckyscrystalqueen]

Taking The Shot: Part 3

Pairings: Negan x Reader

Warnings: Swearing, angst, fluff, typical Walking Dead stuff

Word Count: 4,606

Part 1 / Part 2

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next two weeks were spent much like the first two days. In the mornings you went out with the crew, scavenging for supplies and being the sniper Negan needed. You would return at some point in the afternoon and while Negan worked through his rotation of wives, you got to know some of the people on the crew you worked for, especially Arat. She was the only other woman who went on the runs with you and despite being a stone cold killer she was actually a really nice woman once you got past her rough exterior.

“Alright bitches, what are we playing today?” You asked one late afternoon as you sat down backwards on a chair at the wobbly round card table, handing Arat a beer you had snagged from the kitchen while Simon shuffled the cards.

“Texas.” Simon said as Jared, one of the guys from the crew sat down across the table from you with the box of worthless money you used to play with.

“Count me in.” Dwight said as he pulled up a chair between Arat and Jared.

“Sure you don’t got baby sittin’ to do?” Simon teased as he dealt out the cards and you laughed as you took a stack of money from Jared.

“Bite me, tool.” Dwight countered.

“Alright quit with the pissing contest and throw the flop.” You said as you tossed your one dollar small blind on to the table, peaking at the pair of kings you had in the hole with a straight face.

“I don’t even know why I bother to play.” Jared said as he adds his two dollar big blind match bet onto the stack before pointing at you. “(Y/N)’s got the best damn poker face I have ever seen and I used to play in Vegas all the fucking time.” You chuckled behind your room temperature beer as you matched the bet and shrugged.

“Hey, man I don’t know what to tell you. When you’re one of the only women training to be a Seal and you are playing a bunch of dudes for who has to scrub the other gender’s bathroom with a tooth brush you get really fucking good at playing poker really fucking quick.” You looked at the pair of fours and the king on the table and checked, knowing that with a full house, you had this round in the bag.

“It still blows my mind that you were in the Navy.” Arat said to your left as she tossed in two bucks. “You looked so damn innocent when I first saw you.”

“Yea until she dropped that dead sumbitch at half a mile out.” Simon says while Dwight raises two dollars and Jared folds. “You got talent, girl.” You shrugged as you called the four dollar bet and waited for the turn.

“Hey, what can I say, I was taught by the best of the best.” As the turn card, an 8, hits the table you check as you feel a pair of hands fall onto your hips and you jump slightly.

“What’s in the hole?” Negan whispers in your ear as he rests his scruffy chin on your shoulder and you show him your hand as the table checks all around. 

“Finish this round then let’s go eat.” You nod as the river card gets tossed down and you tossed four bucks onto the pot, grateful that Negan had a decent poker face as well.

“You got it, darlin’.” The table stays dead quiet in Negan’s presence as Arat calls and Dwight folds.

“Alright, let’s seem ‘em.” Simon says as he tosses his money on to the table as he flips his cards onto the table revealing a straight. Negan chuckled as he stood up and you flipped your kings over on to the table.

“See, I fucking told you!” Jared says as he points at your cards while Arat drops an ace and a four next to you and you reach over and grab the pot, handing it to your friend to give her the upper hand. “I ain’t playin’ anymore if she’s playin’.” You laughed as you stood up from the table and grabbed your beer with a smirk.

“Hey, you can’t play with the big dogs get your ass back on the porch. See y’all in the morning.” You said as you raised your beer and turned back toward Negan with a smile. He shook his head as the two of you walked down the hallway and you laughed. “What?”

“You’re just fuckin’ amusing baby doll.” He said as he turned into his personal dining room, pulling out your chair for you.

“How am I amusing?” You asked as you pulled the gun from the back of your jeans and set it on the table next to you.

“The fact that you would rather be drinking fucking beer and playing poker with the crew over drinking wine and gossiping like the other wives.” You shrugged as one of the other sweat suit clad rule breakers and his handler brought in the cart with your dinner.

“Women, for the most part bore me. I’ve been raised around mostly men my whole life. My mother tried to get me into dresses but when I wore blue jeans and Chuck Taylors under my debutante ball gown and then proceeded to get wasted she gave up.” Negan laughed as he put your plate of black beans and rice down on the table in front of you.

“Now that is something I would have paid to see.” You laughed with him as you picked up your spoon.

“What, me in a ball gown or me wasted?”

“Both. Have you always been that rebellious?” he asked. You nodded as you swallowed your mouthful of food.

“Hell yea. You only live once so you ought to make your life worth remembering.” You took another bite, rested your elbow on the table and put your chin on your fist as you chewed. There was a slight twinkle in your eye as Negan looked at you and he chuckled.

“Uh oh, I don’t think I like that fucking look.” You pointed at him as you took your elbow off the table, pressing your luck with your next question since the two of you were alone anyways.

“What did you do before all this shit happened?” You watched his features harden suddenly as his past was brought up and he looked down at his plate, taking a large spoonful of food so you pressed on to soften him to the idea of opening up. “Hey, I know you don’t like getting personal so feel free to pass on any question I ask and I want you to know that this room is our Vegas. What is said here doesn’t leave here out of sheer terror of Lucille.”

“I was a gym teacher.” He said, bringing a smile to your face that you got a personal answer from the notoriously secretive man in front of you.

“Honestly no offense, but I don’t see you as a gym teacher.” You told him and he chuckled as he finally looked up at you.

“Why not?” he asked as you chewed your food. You pointed at him with your spoon and grinned as you swallowed.

“You say fuck entirely too much to be a teacher.” He smirked and nodded in agreement.

“You should have heard the calls the school would get from parents about it.” You giggled and nodded your head.

“Oh, I bet and I bet the kids just LOVED you.” He shrugged.

“My job wasn’t to get those fucking punks to like me. It was to mold the Goddamn minds of America.” He said sarcastically as he puffed his chest out slightly with a smile and you burst into peals of laughter.

“Did you have any of your own?” You inquired tentatively, wondering how far you would be able to delve into his past before he would shut down.

“No. Wanted them but my wife couldn’t have them.” You nodded, knowing full well that asking why and pursuing that avenue of inquiry wasn’t going to get answers so you switched tactics.

“What kind of music did you listen to?” He smiled, his eyes revealing his slight relief that you didn’t ask about his wife as he took a drink of his beer.

“Classic rock, mostly; Zeppelin, Styx, Kansas, the Beatles… typical “my generation” music.” He said using air quotes and you laughed, loving the fact that he was being so open with you.

“Hey I listened to that same kinda music. Fuck, ‘Rocky Raccoon’ was the song my dad sang me to sleep with every night.”

“Oh, well that fucking explains it all then.” He teased and you scooped a black bean onto your spoon and flung it at him. He caught it expertly in his mouth, smirked and wiggled his eyebrow at you. “Bet you didn’t see that coming.”

“Nope, I didn’t but I will give you two points for it.” Negan let you ask your questions through the rest of dinner, even asking a few of his own and not passing on a single one much to your surprise. By the time you had finished dinner you knew more about him then you had ever known about any other man outside of family in your entire life. It was refreshing to see him relax a little and you could tell that he had never opened up to anyone like this in the past almost two years since the world ended.

“I don’t know what the fuck it is about you, (Y/N).” Negan said as he put the two empty plates on the cart before standing up and offering you a hand. “There is something fucking different about you.” You shrugged as you put your gun in the waistband of your jeans and took ahold of his arm.

“I don’t know what to tell you on that one. I am just me; nothing special.” He shook his head as the two of you strolled through the halls to have a cigarette before he took you back to his room.

“That’s not it.” He pushed open a side door that lead outside to a balcony and stairs and pulled his arm away from yours to grab his cigarettes as you leaned against the wall by the door. “With my other wives it’s a fucking unnervingly quiet meal, meaningless fuck then I send them on their fucking way but with you… Fuck, I enjoy your fucking company. I actually fucking look forward to the nights I’m with you. And while I would fucking love to feel that pretty fucking mouth of yours around my rock hard cock for some weird fucking reason I don’t need it.” He lit two cigarettes and handed you one and you could tell he had more to say so you waited patiently for him to continue. He leaned against the rusty rail with his back to you, smoking his cigarette and you could almost hear the wheels turning in his head.

“You remind me of her; fuck, you even look a lot like her.” He said softly as he looked around, making sure no one would overhear his confession. “Lucille, lost her to cancer right as the shit hit the fucking fan.” Your breath caught in your throat at his declaration and your heart seized in pain for him as he turned back toward you with tears in his eyes. He pointed toward the door next to you. 

“You asked me in there my biggest regret. I lied when I told you it was not asking that girl to prom. It was having an affair. Don’t know why I fucking did it; probably just did because I fucking could, but when she got fuckin’ sick, I went running back; terrified I was gunna fucking lose her.” He took a step toward you and brushed his thumb across your cheek, his eyes following the movement so he didn’t have to look into yours and a single tear fell from his eye.

“When you fucking dropped out of that Goddamn tree that night, my heart skipped a beat. I thought you were Lucille for half a second. I felt fucking terrible for threatening you but I couldn’t fucking let you go. But now that I fucking have you, part of me wishes you had fucking left.” His words felt like a knife through your heart and ice water coursed through your veins as his eyes finally met your shocked and sorrow filled eyes. His eyes searched yours as his thumb continued to run across your jaw gently and he continued to explain himself before you could find the words to respond.

“I told myself the fucking day I had to put Lucille down I would never fucking let any mother fucker close; never let them see past the hard fucking exterior I have out of fucking fear. But you… fuck baby girl, you’re…” He sighed as his eyes went back to his thumb. “I want you to see.” His words came out in a whisper and it took you a moment to catch up in your head. Without a word, you dropped your half smoked cigarette and took his face between your hands and dipped into his line of sight.

“I see you.” You whispered back before you kissed him gently for a second. The second you pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, his hand moving to the back of your head as his other dropped his cigarette and grabbed your hip. You nodded slightly as he sighed. “I see you and I’m right here. Negan, I’m all yours.”

His lips crashed against yours as his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling your body as close to his as possible. You wrapped your arms around his neck at the same time as both of his hands moved to grab your thighs, lifting you off the ground and holding you against the wall as you crossed your ankles behind his back. You had kissed him so many times since the night you met him but you both knew that this kiss was so much different than all of the rest. After a few minutes he pulled away, giving you a chance to catch your breath as his forehead rested against yours.

“Stay with me tonight; all night. I’m not ready to let you go just yet.” You smiled as you looked at him through your eyelashes and nodded as best as you could. You saw his eyes light up as he pulled his head back and he jostled you onto one arm so he could open the door and carry you inside causing you to laugh as you squeezed your legs around his waist a little more.

“I can walk, you know.” You teased as you cocked your eyebrow at him.

“I can fucking carry my wife if I fucking want to.” He scolded as his eyebrows furrowed at you, his brown eye sparkling with happiness despite his attempt to mask his joy; a feeling you knew he hadn’t felt in a long time. You furrowed your eyebrows right back at him with a fake pout and he cut you off before you could retort. “Am I gunna have to fucking punish you, princess?” He asked, his forced tone harsh and angry as he opened the door to his bedroom, kicking it closed behind him and walking you toward his kind sized four-poster bed.

“I’ll pretend I don’t enjoy it.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You knew when you opened your eyes the next morning that you had slept in. You stretched out on the soft cotton sheets of Negan’s bed and turned to see if he was next to you and found a note on his pillow. With a smile, you reached over and picked it up, rolling to your side to read it.

(Y/N),

You looked too damn beautiful to wake up this morning so I’m giving you the day off. Enjoy it. I’ll see you this afternoon.

Negan

You smiled as you read the note once more before rolling out of bed and grabbing your jeans. You shimmied into them, put your bra on under Negan’s plain white shirt that you slept in and folded your shirt on his pillow for him with a knowing smile on your face. You went over and grabbed the little note pad he had tossed on his table and wrote him a note of your own, knowing he would probably come back to his room to look for you after he checked your room. You put the note on your shirt and grabbed your hand gun before heading to your room to get your rifle. You couldn’t wipe the smile off your face as you walked out onto the balcony and headed down the stairs, looking for Crystal, knowing that she probably had a protein bar or two you could get for breakfast. When she saw you coming you watched her eyebrows fly into her hair line.

“Well I’ll be damned. I never see you down here this late in the mornings.” She said as she turned around in her chair, ignoring the man that was standing at her table to grab you the breakfast bars.

“Boss gave me the day off.” You said casually as she handed you your breakfast and a bottle of water.

“Well you enjoy it. Looks like a nice day out.” She said as she pointed up to the window and you nodded in agreement.

“Here’s to hoping. Hey, when the crew get back can you ask Arat or Jared to let Negan know I’m out at the gun range?” You asked as you signed the book for your breakfast.

“Of course, darling.” She said and you saluted her with your water bottle in thanks as you walked backwards away from her table.

“You’re the best!” You called out to her as you turned and headed back up the stairs, ripping open a stale strawberry power bar with your teeth and shoving the wrapper in your pocket. As you walked through the halls, munching away on your breakfast you began to hum ‘Walking on Sunshine’ as the conversation from the night before played over in your head.

You knew that the conversation was a Vegas style discussion and that Negan would most likely continue to treat you as just another wife and just his personal sniper but, knowing his true feelings, you didn’t mind that for the sake of the bigger picture. On top of that, you could only imagine how stressful the idea of monogamy would be to him in a world where most of the living population wanted him dead; you would be a target in a heartbeat.

You were still smiling; lost in your thoughts as you walked out the back door toward the gun shed to grab some bullets but as the door closed behind you, you stopped dead in your tracks when your eyes landed on fat Joey lying in a puddle of blood a couple feet in front of you. You panicked as you looked up, expecting a walker only to see a man with long brown hair and a beanie that you didn’t recognize and Daryl. You turned to run back inside to scream for someone; anyone but before you made it two steps Daryl wrapped his arm around you, his hand flying over your mouth.

“I’m sorry for this, (Y/N) but I’m taking you with me for your own good.” You screamed into his hand as his arm came up around your throat and before you even knew it, everything went black.

--------

When you came too, you found yourself in a room whose only light source was thin window near the ceiling above the door and your head was pounding. You reached up to the back of your head and felt something sticky and when you looked at it you knew it was blood.

“Yea, I’m sorry about that.” Daryl’s voice said from behind you and you jumped scrambling away from him. “I didn’t mean to…”

“What the fuck have you done?” You asked him as you backed up against the far wall. Daryl shook his head from the corner he was sitting in.

“Don’t you get who that guy is? He’s a monster, (Y/N)!” He said angrily as he stood up.

“Daryl, I am warning you now; let me go and I won’t tell Negan that you fucking kidnapped his fucking wife!” You said, your voice starting soft and raising to a scream with every word. Daryl simply shook his head as he rolled a bottle of water over to you.

“Sorry, (Y/N), I can’t do that.” He walked over to the door and pulled a key out of his pocket. You jumped up and tried to run toward him only to get stop by the steel wire that was wrapped around your waist.

“Let me the fuck out of here!” You screamed as he pushed the door open and let himself out. “He’s gunna fucking kill you, you stupid son of a bitch!” You felt your tear start to fall down your cheeks as the dead bolt slid shut and you fell to your knees and sobbed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Negan POV

As he sat in the passenger seat of the truck, staring out the window while he rolled a wild flower between his fingers behind his leg, Negan thought about the night before. He was glad he told you how he felt but he was pissed at himself. He never wanted to fall for a woman after Lucille and he was scared that letting you get as close as you were would throw him off his game, making him appear weak to his followers and possibly losing control of the empire he had built. He just couldn’t help himself.

He couldn’t get your beautiful face out of his mind; the way that one hair would stubbornly refuse to stay in your bun, falling across your cheek every so often. You would scrunch your nose slightly and brush it back to try to secure it in the bun once more but it continued to find its way out again. He couldn’t stop thinking about your (Y/E/C) eyes and the way they sparkled when he made you laugh; your perfect smile making them light up like stars twinkling in the night sky.

He shook his head slightly as he looked down at the flower in his fingers, forcing your face out of his mind. He decided that on the outside, nothing would change. He would keep his appearance as it was, the hardened, uncaring man the new world had made him become; only showing his emotions to you in the safe confines of his bedroom. He wondered briefly if he would be able to pull it off.

As the convoy pulled in to the gates of the Sanctuary, he put the little white flower in his pocket and all of his resolve to retain his persona vanished in an instant when he realized he was coming home to your smiling face again. As Simon dropped him off at the front of the dorm building like he always did, Negan grabbed Lucille and strolled into the building. He stopped in your room first, knocked quickly before peeking into the empty room. Finding it empty, he walked down the hall to look in on his other wives; more out of habit then want anymore. He spent a few minutes showering them with forced affection as he had done for months before you even came around before moving on to his room to see if you were in there.

He couldn’t stop the half mouth smirk that crossed his face when he saw your note and shirt lying on his pillow; the bed made perfectly the way a soldier would do it and he chuckled to himself as he unfolded the paper.

Negan,

If I’m not in my room or in the main room, I’m out in the gun range. Hope you had a good morning!

Xoxo

(Y/N)

He leaned Lucille between his bed and the little table where she usually rested and put the note in his pocket; hiding your t-shirt in the drawer of his nightstand before venturing out to find you. Arat caught him on the balcony and passed on Crystal’s message and he nodded and turned on his heel to head out to the gun range.

He opened the back door, squinting for only a moment to let his eyes adjust to the afternoon light when his foot kicked something on the ground. He looked down at the water bottle that had rolled into a puddle of blood next to the dead body of fat Joey. As he reached for his walkie-talkie, to figure out just what the fuck was going on, his eyes fell on the broken strap of your rifle and a smashed protein bar.

“Who’s down by the fucking gun range?” He called into his walkie as he grabbed your rifle strap from the ground before he stormed back inside to grab Lucille. A man answered him as he stomped down the hall and a door on his right that was cracked open caught his eye. “Is (Y/N) down there? I got a fucking job for her.” He said as he ripped the door to Daryl’s cell open. He growled at the empty room as the man from the gun range stated that he hadn’t seen you all day. Negan’s heart dropped as he put two and two together and before he could even tell his feet to do so, he was moving.

“Simon, get the fucking trucks back out and get the fucking crew ready. Dwight, your Goddamn charge is missing- get your fucking ass out front now.” He stormed into his room and grabbed Lucille and jogged to the front as rage fueled his movements. There was no way in hell he was going to lose another woman he cared about from his life. He kicked the door open and flew into the yard as directions started flying as he headed for the truck.

“Load the fuck up! My wife is fucking missing and so is fucking Daryl. Start with fucking Alexandria; I want that mother fucker ripped apart from top to fucking bottom, then fucking Hilltop. Gavin, get your ass to your fucking community and talk to that fucker; see if they’re there. Move!” He jumped into the driver seat of the truck hardly giving Simon time to jump in the passenger side and leaving the compound before the rest of his crew even had the chance to get into the other trucks.

“We’ll find her.” Simon said as Negan sped down the road. He glanced over at his second in command who nodded. “Yea, I know she’s different. I also know why she is. I ain’t saying shit and I know I’m the only one who sees it.” Negan looked back at the road and grit his teeth.

“Tell a fucking soul and it will be your fucking life.” He growled as he gripped the wheel tight. Simon shook his head.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, man.” Negan looked over at him once more and Simon met his gaze. The two men nodded at each other in silent understanding and as Negan looked back at the road, he was glad that he had befriended Simon in the first place.

Part 4

[losers-yurio]

Individuals

Brian May

stress

Pattie Boyd

Validation

Linda McCartney

[losers-yurio]

Yall pls DROWN ME IN REQUESTS