#the beatles fluff

[foryouwereinmysong]

Those John and Paul moments ... (Ready, Steady, Go rehearsals, 1963, full video here)

[sunflowersinthedirt]

GOLDEN SLUMBERS | PAUL MCCARTNEY 🎸

fluff and angst, very needy reader! mentions of weed, cigarettes and alcohol. also mentions of beatles get back/let it be period.

1969!paul mcbeardy.

again, sorry for any typos. english is not my first language and gifs are not mine.

- X -

I was freezing when I decided to go to bed. I drank wine, but not as much as when I'm in Paul's company. It's night, and even with alcohol, Martha, and a fireplace, nothing seemed to warm me up. Maybe I missed Paul.

It had been a couple of days since he slept with me. Get Back and Twickenham were taking up a lot of his time. He seemed grumpy when he got home, but always took some time to cuddle with me as if the external problems that working with his band for the past 18 months were causing. Martha had become my biggest companion in this house, following me wherever I went.

When I got into that bathtub, I didn't think I was that sleepy. I dozed off lightly, and when I felt the water getting cold, I decided to get up, dry off, and go to bed. Martha had been sleeping in her bed for ages. There were some beds scattered around the house for her to rest, as she was a very calm dog. I put on one of Paul's shirts to feel like he was there with me... I had no idea what time he'd be back and he hadn't confirmed anything with me. I inhaled his scent embedded there and turned to the empty side of the bed.

It didn't take long for me to fall asleep. I didn't know if it was the alcohol, the tiredness, the longing... I just know I fell asleep. But it wasn't light sleep, as I woke up every half hour to turn over. Until I felt a chaste kiss on my lips but no weight on the other side of the bed like I wanted. Paul had arrived but hadn't lain down. I could hear his footsteps on the stairs followed by the jingling of Martha's paws. I was alone in that room and it left me feeling colder and longing for their company.

Wrapped in a blanket, I went downstairs feeling small and fragile. I didn't care that the king-size blanket I was wrapped in was dragging on the cold floor.

I heard the sound of piano notes in the living room, something between C Major and a murmuring voice. Paul rarely came home from work and continued working. It wasn't difficult, but Paul didn't like to bring work home. I thought he might be stressed enough not to lie down or not be sleepy.

I approached the piano, saw his figure with downcast eyes, long lashes brushing his cheeks. Paul hummed quietly, noticed my presence, and stopped playing, focusing his attention on me.

"Did I wake you, love?" he asked in an affectionate tone. His tired eyes opened wider.

"No," I replied sleepily, coming closer to him.

"Sit here." He tapped his left leg and made room for me to sit on his lap.

I sat, wrapped in that blanket. Paul adjusted his arms to give him mobility to play the piano keys in front of him, and I hugged him around the waist, snuggling against his larger body.

"S' Much better this way..." he said, his accent strong and drawling, his voice low and husky. I could feel the vibration of his voice and hear his heartbeats. I rested my chin on his shoulder, and he stole a kiss from me. His now-full beard tickled my cupid's bow.

This was what was missing. I felt so relaxed in his company. Paul continued to play the piano.

"Couldn't sleep?" I asked, my eyes were almost closing again.

"No, love. I came home with a melody pounding in my head." He answered, still playing the piano. He smelled of tobacco and herbs. He had been smoking more than usual, and I knew he was stressed. "I'm sorry for bringing work home. I don't have the lyrics yet, but the melody got stuck in my head because I played it at Twickenham before coming here. I was the last to leave the studio today."

"I'd never be upset with you for that. Y’know." I rubbed my face against his beard. "Can you show me the melody?" I asked, sleepy. Martha was already snoring at our feet.

Paul kissed my forehead and continued playing the piano, murmuring some words. I struggled to keep my eyes open.

"Once there was a way..." he sang softly, playing the piano with his leg rocking me to sleep. He was making up these lyrics, or I didn't have such a sharp taste in lullabies like that. "To get back homeward." He repeated the sung sentence, my eyes closing slowly. I felt like a child again. Paul warming the chilly room, the blanket wrapping us like a cloak. "Sleep, pretty darling, do not cry... And I will sing a lullaby."

It didn't take long for me to fall asleep there in his lap, listening to him humming that song. I felt at home and knew I was home.

"Sleep well, princess," he whispered, and suddenly I couldn't hear the musical notes he had played earlier on that piano.

- X -

i’ll take requests soon!

[nadjaraspberry]

“… and then when i’m while away, i’ll write home everyday, and i’ll send all my loving to you.. i’ll pretend that i’m kissing, the cheeks that i’m missing, and hope that my dreams will come true..”

[bealtesharrisonmacca]

Why does it kinda look like Paul is waiting for one of them to give him a blowjob?

[ilovegeorgie]

don’t bother me

george harrison x reader

genre: confort

warnings: none !

summary: a lazy day with george

a/n: i personally need more geo content

the sky seemed heavy while she stirred in bed, her limbs aching from exhaustion quite unexplainable. it wasn’t just the physical one, it was the kind of tired that consumed your soul, making even getting out of bed feel impossible.

george layed beside her, propped up on one elbow, his soft brown eyes watching her closely. he’d noticed the way her shoulders had drooped the night before, how her laughter didn’t come as easily, how quiet she had been.

“you all right, love?” he asked gently, his voice still thick with sleep.

she turned herself to face him, her lips curving into a faint smile.

“i’m just tired,” she murmured. “not even sure why, i just don’t feel like doing anything today.. or maybe ever.��

george reached out, brushing a strand of hair away from her face.

“then don’t,” he said simply, "just fot today" his hand lingering on her cheek, “we don’t have to go anywhere or do anything. we can just stay here.”

she sighed, a wave of relief washing over her at his words.

“you really mean it?” she asked. george’s lips twitched into a small smile, and he leaned down to press a kiss to her forehead.

“course i do. we’ll stay right here. just you and me.”

...

george brought tea and toast to bed, balancing the tray carefully. they both sat cross-legged on the bed, crumbs scattering across the blankets as they shared bites and talked about everything and nothing. she leaned back against the headboard and george nestled beside her, pulling the blanket up over both of them. she then rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut as his fingers traced lazy patterns on her arm.

“you know,” he said after a while, his voice soft, “you don’t always have to keep going and doing stuff all day, you know? it’s all right to take a day off, to stop and breathe.”

she tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“i know but i just… feel like i should be doing more, like maybe if i actually did something productive, i could take advantage of my life and do something with it,” she admitted. “it's like i’m wasting time if i stop.”

george frowned slightly, his fingers pausing their motion.

“darling,” he said softly, his voice steady and full of care. “you’re not wasting anything. everyone gets tired, and everyone needs a break sometimes. you’ve been doing so much lately. it’s all right to let yourself rest.”

she blinked up at him, her heart swelling at the sincerity in his gaze, a tear slipping down her cheek.

george caught it with his thumb, brushing it away gently before leaning in to press a kiss to the corner of her eye.

“i know you, and i know you need this. so, no more worrying about what you "should" be doing, yeah? today’s just about us.” he said with a small chuckle.

she nodded, her hand reaching up to rest over his.

“georgie, i don’t deserve you,” she said, her voice breaking slightly.

george shook his head, smiling softly.

“i’m the lucky one.”

...

as the day wore on, they stayed snuggled in the warmth of their bed while she rested her head on his chest.

“you feeling a bit better now, love?” he asked, his lips brushing against her hair.

she nodded, snuggling into him.

“much,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest. “i just needed you.”

george tightened his arms around her, resting his chin on the top of her head.

“well, lucky for you, i’m not planning on going anywhere,”

[inkpot909]

First Love Headcanons: Bruno Bucciarati x Reader

↳ Gender neutral Reader with they/them pronouns. Implied the reader is shorter than Bucciarati? Canon-divergent. The reader is not made out to be very morally upright and is hinted at having a rough past.

A/n: Doing another one of these has been on my mind for a while now. Thank you to the lovely person below for the request! I hope y’all enjoy. <3

Warning(s): None.

There’s no time in Bruno Bucciarati’s schedule for a relationship.

Growing up in the mob kept him focused on the ‘family’ that took him in. It was his purpose, and the only reason he was able to support his father as well as himself. Before he learned the truth of the organization’s operations, he felt a pride in even the… messier aspects of his work.

Eventually finding a disconnect between it and his own morals leaves an empty spot in his heart. A shame so deeply buried within him that even the members slowly joining his team know little of it how deeply it affects him.

He now goes on with his work as normal, all while feeling like a bit of a hypocrite. His heart feeling so betrayed it needs little to push him towards full betrayal on his part.

Surely, a relationship would only muddy the waters.

All the cute girls that wave to him as he passes by on the street… who of them would be able to take such baggage? How could he expect anyone to? He wouldn’t have it in him to willingly bring anyone into this lifestyle, if his reluctance to let Narancia join is anything to go by.

Barely an adult and already he’s responsible for a small handful of people. Though, that thought never crosses his mind, as he’s unfortunately felt like an adult for an unfair amount of time.

And despite his own inner turmoil over his position in Passione, he’s formed meaningful relationships through the members of his team.

He’s the connection that binds them together, the head of their group, and by proxy the head of their little family. The purpose that the organization originally gave him now lands on the shoulders of his motley crew.

It’s them that keeps him going in spite of it all.

He finds his heart still beating, still moved each time he brings someone underneath his wing. That alone is good enough for a man like him.

No… there’s no time in Bruno Bucciarati’s schedule for a relationship.

And so, with that thought constantly repeated in his mind, he didn’t at all bat an eye when your own need eventually brought you to Passione’s metaphorical doorstep.

In your mind, it must’ve felt like fate.

Reaching for assistance at lowest point, you were subtly pointed toward one Bruno Bucciarati.

You don’t know what you expecting from the mafioso. A degree of harshness or coldness, perhaps. Only to be greeted with a hearty meal and an understanding personality so moving you fell into the trap of the mob right then and there.

How could you hope not to? When all you saw in that moment was a pair of gentle blue eyes looking at you with unspoken empathy, allowing you to speak freely despite his status as a gang leader.

So when he gave you an offer, you could only accept with newfound vigor.

The next couple of days felt like a blur, a change to your very view of your own psyche is made when it is suddenly able to manifest something you soon knew to call a stand. It is life altering to you, yet mundane to Bucciarati.

That kept you grounded.

Exiting a prison, golden broach in your hand, there’s no pit in your stomach that usually occurs when you lie straight to someone’s face. You had looked up at Polpo- an impossibly intimidating capo -and told him a lie. Said you’d kept the lighter on for 24 hours, and he… took your word for it, creepily enough.

You’re observant, able to discern that you were never meant to actually keep the lighter on the whole time, that the goal all along was to acquire a stand.

Distantly, you remember telling yourself as you left the prison that you ought to grow accustomed to lying anyways.

You didn't chose the mafia to be a player in your future, but life hardly goes the way people want.

And lying to a man like Polpo really didn’t feel like it counted anyways.

Still, Bruno’s reaction to your own twisted priorities was a darkly comforting one. It made you feel better about the coming days ahead:

Bruno Bucciarati finds himself checking his watch a third time, standing just a few yards away from a prison’s main entrance. Not many people like to pass by the looming building, leaving him alone and not likely to be recognized by anyone- Passione member or not.

He sighs, This should not be taking this long.

There’s only so much he can check the area around him before he starts looking suspect. Not that there’s much hustle and bustle in the surrounding area to distract himself with. A familiar impatience bubbles within his stomach, one that only occurs when he’s about to introduce his team to a new member.

Well… hopefully.

Before he starts growing gray hairs, he hears the prison gate creak open. Turning his head, he finally notices your figure exiting the large entrance with prison guards escorting you.

A smile finds its way onto his face, a gesture you return as you approach him. Once the gate is closed, and the two of you are left without any watchful eyes, you subtly gesture with your arm. The action causes his attention to move towards your hand that shows off a little golden broach in your hand.

He gives a nod, and you don’t waste time before shoving the little piece of gold into your pocket. Just as you do, you halt your footsteps- now standing close enough to hold a casually quiet conversation.

Every one of your movements are noticed and dissected within his mind, something you clearly understand just by looking at your poised body language. That, or you’re still on alert from talking to Polpo.

“I was beginning to think I’d have to go in there myself,” he jests lightly, though there’s not much actual humor in his voice. “Afraid I’d find you there attempting to choke the capo out.”

“The thought didn’t cross my mind,” you reply, a trying smile playing on your lips. You appear much more collected than the day you first met him, a detail he’s glad to see. “That would be an awful first impression of my own loyalty, wouldn’t it?”

Ah, so either Y/n is simply that nervous, or Polpo’s words actually got to them. Bruno shakes the thought off, as the distinction is not worth dwelling over right at this moment.

“One of your new teammates was damn near close to trying to pull a stunt like that in the past-“ he doesn’t miss how your eyes brighten up at his roundabout way of welcoming you to his team. You joining it went without saying, but the subtle omission being enough to make you look so inspired is something he can already tell he’ll find endearing about your personality. “-But no matter… walk with me, please.”

You do as you’re asked, something Bruno does not care take note of.

It's the one part of your behavior he doesn't quietly run through his brain. It’s your first day after all, he’ll see in a weak how well you actually listen to him. His experience with the others has taught him as much.

“I do have to admit…” you speak up when he doesn’t, “Lying to him didn’t make me feel bad at all.”

He turns to you, something flickering in his gaze before he lets out a soft chuckle. His smile now seems a little less formal, and the amusement on his face looks more natural. “If that’s an omission of guilt, then you’ll be an interesting change of pace.”

“It is,” you admit, figuring there’s no need to put up a front for a man this observant, “Lying to someone is almost worse than killing them.”

“How do you figure?” Bruno raises an eyebrow, not batting an eyelid at your statement. Honestly, the first time the two of you met, your words were much more morbid.

“Well… lying leaves room for feelings to stir within me or the person of interest. It lets emotions fester inside of people. Killing stops all regrets or feelings of betrayal- stopping everything, you understand? That, I can live with. A bad mark on my heart I find more difficult to walk away from."

It’s no surprise he’s silent after that, but his hesitation does take you off guard.

Oh, god, was that too loose-lipped? It’s easy to feel comfortable around Bucciarati. Far too easy. He’s the type of man that makes people inclined to open up. You always talked casually before about macabre things. Isn’t that normal for a mafioso? What if-

“No need to be nervous, L/n; I’m already impressed by you. You’ll do well with us.”

Oh.

Something about his words, spoken so calmly without even looking over at you, have a calming effect to them. Just a week into knowing him, and already you’re slowly growing accustomed to his genuine yet subdued warmth.

As Bruno drones on about Passione and its systems- more specifically his duties that directly trickle down into being your duties -you can’t help but let your mind wander a little to a distinction you made when you first met him.

Bruno Bucciarati’s fundamentally different.

There’s a kindness to him you never would’ve expected from someone in a gang. It kept you nodding along as you spoke, and distantly you felt as though your entire future is in the palm of his hand.

And scarily enough, you were fine with that.

Him being a sort of exception was a thought you assumed yourself to be mad for making, at least, until you found out the others on the team noticed the exact same thing.

All while Bruno himself only looks at you and sees your potential to grow.

A place in his team… something that he’s always well-spotted. An intuition he’s not once been wrong with before, so there’s a degree of confidence there as well that rubs off on you.

You got his attention in a familiar way, and after you join the team, you’re his responsibility and his purpose- just as the others are.

He’s just your leader. Nothing more, nothing less.

That said, he grows to appreciate the genuine gratefulness you offer him in a… special way.

The others are thankful for him too, and he knows that fact, but it’s nice to here the sentiment so openly and often in nature. And in the tones of your voice, it’s especially calming.

He’s really just making excuses for himself, but it was early on enough where it was okay.

That’s what’ll first make Bruno truly see you as not only a member of his team, but a member of his little found-family. The not-so-subtle ways you show that you want to be with them and a part of what they do… how could he hope to not find that charming?

Your softer side, however you chose to express it, is never missed by a man like Bruno. He easily recognizes it, and almost immediately respects you for it.

Hell, after a while, he relies on you for it.

There’s little in his life that’s more grounding than a gentle expression, thick with anticipation, displayed on your face after each mission you’re not a part of.

You always check up on the returning members as soon as possible, making sure everyone is up and moving. “I won’t be able to relax unless I see for myself that you’re all okay,” he recalls you saying on the matter. The fact that it’s how you treat everyone on the team only makes the relaxing feeling sink in deeper.

It’s not long before he sees you as a genuine soul, and he’d consider himself to be a fool if he didn’t recognize that.

Since the very beginning, Bruno’s personality has touched you emotionally. And although he always saw a sort of spark in you, getting to really know you- becoming your friend in tantum with acting as your superior -allows him to see that little spark for what it actually is.

Genuine care for the people you’re close to. An eye for good natured people, and a responding gentleness. Couple that with a darker, more proactive role during missions or anything work-related, and Bruno finds himself falling back on you more than he’d care to admit.

The others, though? They have no hang-ups over mentioning it. It gets to a point where- specifically Fugo, Mista, and Narancia -start to complain about Bruno showing you a degree of ‘special treatment.’

Mista and Narancia’s complaining jabs are easily shot down with only a look, but Fugo proved to be a lot more serious about it.

To the extent to where an argument or two emerges between them. Fugo insistant in his observations, trying to get Bruno to at least admit he treats you differently than the rest. But Bruno remained headstrong, stubborn in his belief that he would always treat his subordinates equally.

He’s just your boss. Nothing more, nothing less.

In the months that pass, when you’ve since naturally found your place on the team, at what point did that start to be the common refrain playing in his mind?

At what point does he go from insisting he has no time for a relationship at all, to continuously having to remind himself he’s your boss?

And that question alone tugs at his heartstrings in a manner he’s not quite used to. It’s a delightful feeling, but it is foreign.

For a man like Bruno Bucciarati, it’s not so much a refusal to believe he could be developing feelings, but a worry if he should even do anything about the attraction.

That said, it does take him some time to realize his own feelings due to his position as a boss to you and out of sheer unfamiliarity with the subject.

He’s not too obvious as to receive knowing looks from the others whenever he’s around you (Which is often). Hell, Mista even admitted to him much later that Narancia didn’t even notice until Fugo told him to start paying attention.

And after a certain point, Bruno has to admit it to himself and does so with surprising ease. It may have taken some time, he may have been stubborn speaking with Fugo, but he won’t continue to lie to himself. He’s old enough to know when he needs to swallow his pride and admit Fugo was onto something, if only a little.

And after that point of realization, his own love language starts to naturally shine through a bit more.

Bruno generally prefers acts of service and quality time when showing his affection. Cheeky and openly flirtatious, you may have assumed he’s been in relationships before given his confidence.

He’s always had a special care for you when it comes to missions... but now he finds himself offering to help you with grocery shopping. Or paying for a maid to clean up your home when you’ve had a particularly busy week, and offhandedly mentioned needing to clean once.

What? You thought he would forget? That only makes him chuckle smugly, prompting him to lean to eye-level and ask you, “What kind of man do you think I am?”

It seems like he remembers everything that pours from your lips. Always listening to you intently, and never brushing you off.

And during down time, Bruno naturally finds himself preferring to spending it in your company. A lot. Preferably alone, thank you very much.

The two of you even began to start watching TV shows with one another. And neither of you would dare to watch ahead without the other. It’s usually true crime shows, comedies, or shitty soap operas.

All this time with you after realizing his feelings... and they only grow- to his personal panic. The more he stays at your side the more he would hate to ever leave it.

So this is what it's like... he remembers thinking while lounging around, and watching a movie with you one evening. This is.... what I’ve been missing my whole life.

As beautiful as the feeling you bring him is, should he... really do anything about it?

He can see that look in your eyes when it’s just the two of you, a gleam that speaks of an internal joy you’re not sharing with him just as he refuses to share with you.

He gets a sneaking suspicion that you like him the exact same way he’s grown to adore you. And Christ almighty- what’s he supposed to do with that?

Yet, even though you’re a part of Passione, meaning he needs not to stress over bringing you into something so dangerous unwillingly... he is still hesitant.

His care for you so often is expressed through worry, something he usually handles with authority and maybe even harsh words if he deems it necessary.

But this is far more personal, and he can only mull it over by himself. He’s not the type to bring it up to others, not even Abbacchio.

If he reached for you... and the two of you began something real; something official... it would be a no-brainer for enemies to target either of you in order to send some sort of message.

He can’t stand the thought of your broken heart, and absolutely refuses to think of something like that happening to you.

Then again, if a bit morbid, he eventually realizes the result would still be the same with the way things are now. Only, it’d be coupled with Bruno's deep regret over not having said anything to you.

He can only wonder if you’d feel the same, and at the end of the day, he really does think that would be the case.

And it’s around the time he’s fully digesting this, that you end up genuinely taking him aback. Acting before he can begin convincing himself to make the first move:

Giorno, Fugo, and Mista walk behind Bucciarati, looking up at him in silent awe.

If you were to look into each of their eyes, you could likely peace together what they’re thinking while looking upon the freshly appointed capo. Opportunity twinkles within their gazes, all coming from a sincere place of respect for their leader.

You, however, are not looking at them.

As Bruno approaches the rest of his team, anticipation turns into cheers and hollers of excitement from the others standing next to you. Abbacchio has the widest smile on his face you’ve seen since Giorno entered the picture, yet your gaze stays glued onto Bruno throughout the nearly youthful display of glee.

He’s noticeably silent and calm. It’s like there’s no off switch to him- likely already going through the duties now landing on his lap due to his promotion within his mind. He’s not going to want to take the night off, no doubt wanting to get down to business.

Your heart swells despite the slight strain on it. It’s so like him to be that way in a time like this, but… I can’t help but wish he’d celebrate… if only a little, you find yourself thinking.

“Mista… guys, please,” Bruno tries to calm the two (In all honesty, Giorno’s ‘celebrating’ amounted to simply smiling) excited boys walking beside him, waving his hand.

Mista goes on about how everyone must celebrate somehow, still lecturing as they finally approach and reunite with the rest of the group. His words go over Bruno’s head, however, a fond smile making its way onto his face when he turns to meet your gaze.

Maybe it’s the adrenaline from him finally achieving the well-deserved position. Feeling so proud of him that your body jerks forward without thinking. Maybe it’s the excitement of everyone else rubbing off on you, and simply causes you to act without thinking.

All you do care to think as your feet move you right up to Bruno is, To hell with it. If he won’t start celebrating on his own; I’m making him celebrate.

Bruno opens his mouth to speak as you move well within his personal space, but is cut off by the swift movement of your hand tightly grabbing the collar of his jacket. One good tug of your arm and your pulling him toward you, lips meeting with his eyes widely open in surprise.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph!”

Fugo’s exclamation, along with startled gasps from everyone else melt away the moment you feel Bruno melt into the kiss and reciprocate.

He follows your lead, gently sighing against your lips when you neglect to take your hand off his collar. His arms, which you’ve always found to be so comforting, snake around your waist. He keeps you securely in his hold, and your other hand flies to cup his jaw.

After a moment or two, the kiss breaks. Bruno looks at you as you pull away, eyes still wide and mouth gently agape. It’s enough to make you chuckle, seeing him so cutely taken aback by both your and his own spontaneous actions.

“Congratulations, capo,” you smoothly whisper, finally removing yourself from his hold. “You earned it.”

“I-… thank you, Y/n,” he responds softly, a smile growing on his face.

As much as you’d like to hold onto the gentle intimacy of the moment you just shared with him, movement out of the corner of your eye catches your attention. Shifting your gaze, you catch a glimpse of Fugo silently sliding some cash over to a smug-looking Abbacchio.

No… they didn’t…

“Did you-“ you breath, embarrassment beginning to boil inside your stomach and fuel the rising volume of your voice, “-Did you assholes bet on us!?”

“It’s Fugo’s fault for assuming Bucciarati would make the first move,” Abbacchio replies dryly, scoffing as if it’s beneath him.

“Excuse me!?” you and Fugo shout in tandem.

The team erupts in accusations and yelling, the celebration over nearly three minutes after it began. Bruno can only smile at his team, not expecting anything less.

And just like you moments ago, he cannot take his eyes off you.

It’s moments like those that serve as a reminder as to why it’s Bucciarati that leads the team.

Still… the smile playing on his lips that day did not falter once after your sudden display of affection. It was a beautiful, unexpected thing… much akin to how you entered his life.

The two of you were much closer after that event. Other members of Passione outside the team noticing another that’s always at the young capo’s side. Whispers and rumors flood Naples of your relationship… but he never pays them any attention.

He knows what the two of have, and he’s confident in saying that it’s love.

After all, all that matters to him is you staying at his side… even behind closed doors. He’s never experienced something like this before in his life, but now that he has you held in his arms, he never wishes to let you go.

[lick-me-lennon22]

Ringo X Touch Starved!Reader

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

Ringo is incredibly aware of how touch-starved you are

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

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

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

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

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

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

☆☆☆

It was a lazy Sunday for you and Ringo.

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

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

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

"Morning, sleepyhead. Come here."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Then you've got all you need."

[cherry-velvet-skies]

Please Don't Be Long

George Harrison × GN!Reader

Genre: Fluffyyy hehe

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol

Words: 2.7k

Summary: 1968-69 era; The universe has a unique way of continuously bringing Geo and Reader together, and it’s time they finally accept the invitation (featuring a brief appearance by Ringo The Wingman lmao)

A/N: The idea for this fic was requested by the wonderful @leia-saveourskins (thank you so much for the request! 🥰)

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The moderately loud music flowing through the stereo speakers was all that could be heard in your ears as you made your way around the room, trying your best to mingle with the other guests. You enjoyed your fair share of house parties, as they were a great way to get to know new people, as well as reconnecting and maintaining previously established friendships.

You and George had met before. Granted, it was only briefly, but you remembered enough to recognize his face in the crowd on the other side of the room. George was the reserved type, preferring to stick around the people he knew best and enjoy the good music and tasty snacks. Parties weren't exactly his scene, but he knew how to make the best of them.

You attended this particular event with a few of your other friends, who, at this moment, were nowhere to be found. You shrugged your shoulders, assuming they would come find you when they wanted, or rather needed, to call it a night and head home, as you elected to be the designated driver for the evening.

Worming your way through the room of dancing people to where George was, you felt a smile growing on your face the closer you got to him. He had this wonderful energy that could be felt from a mile away, not to mention he was certainly quite handsome.

He was sitting on a sofa in the far corner of the room, holding a less than half-full glass of what appeared to be white wine. There were several other people sitting around him, one of which seemed to be telling a rather interesting story, with the other guests listening with rapt attention. You didn't recognize all of these people, only a few in passing, but one of which you knew quite well, immediately recognizing the array of dazzling rings scattered across his fingers.

Ringo had actually been the one to introduce you to George. You met him at a party similar to this one a few weeks prior, and after chatting for several minutes, he seemed to get the impression that you two would hit it off, promptly bringing you over to say hello. It was nice to see him again as well, seeing as the only people you knew here were off on their own adventures. You sighed in relief, your worry that you would be left awkwardly alone for the evening gradually fading away. 

The interesting campfire sofa story seemed to come to an end, and a gap opened up in the small crowd. You strode forward, seizing the opportunity, making your way to a cozy little spot next to him on the sofa. Before you could even sit down and reintroduce yourself, George looked up at you, smiling brightly, playfully pointing a finger in your direction.

“Ah, I remember you.” He said cheerily, and although he did not attempt to raise his voice to be heard over the music, somehow you could hear him just fine. “Always nice to see another familiar face.”

“Hi George.” You giggled, feeling your hands fidget slightly at your sides, but you tried your best to not let it show. Somewhere between your starting location and here, all the confidence of speaking to George had blown away, and all that was left was your increasingly shy tone and a small blush creeping up your cheeks.

Before continuing the conversation with you, George looked to the other side of him and tapped his friend on the shoulder. “What do you know, Rich? I guess you do have a gift. We meet again!” Ringo turned to face you, his bright blue eyes lighting up despite the slightly dim lighting in the room.

“And here you are!” He said happily, standing from the couch to pull you into a warm hug. A surprised laugh left your throat, but you hugged him back, feeling him pull away almost as quickly to let you sit down next to George. “I'll let you two lovebirds get to chatting.” He mused as he disappeared into the next room.

You returned your gaze to George and felt the blush on your face get stronger. He didn't seem to notice, or rather, he didn't point it out, instead twisting his torso to reach behind him for a bottle of wine. “Fancy a drink?” He asked, pausing to top off his own glass.

“I really shouldn't, but thank you anyway.” You replied politely. “I'd rather be more alert when I have to round up my friends and drive them home later tonight.” George nodded understandingly, a small chuckle leaving his lips. He cleared his throat before taking another sip.

“Responsibility is quite uncommon these days. Much like common sense.” He laughed at his own joke, and you laughed too, remembering that his sense of humor was something you immediately liked about him when you first met. He may have been on the quiet side, but he could crack a mean joke. Listen close, or you just might miss it.

George wasn't one for small talk. He found it boring and mundane, which you actually appreciated, as you found it awkward and uncomfortable. You loved that he dove right in when talking to people, asking the deeper, more interesting questions. Questions about life and the wonder of it all, and everything we could be learning about the world and ourselves if we just got out of our brains all the time and back into our bodies, feeling and seeing the world as it was meant to be experienced. You were absolutely enthralled, listening closely and chiming in where you could relate or feel your curiosity piqued. Just as you felt yourself wanting to rest your head on his shoulder, becoming captivated by a campfire sofa story of your own, you felt someone bump into the sofa cushion behind you, mumbling your name.

You turned around to see one of your friends, with the other two standing a bit further behind her. You could barely understand her slurry of unintelligible words, and judging by her smudged makeup, you weren't sure if she had been crying, or just plainly drunk and possibly high out of her mind. Either way, the three had clearly tracked you down because they wanted to go home.

You sighed, turning back to George, grimacing slightly, annoyed that you had to leave just when the conversation was starting to get good. George didn't seem bothered, still offering a warm smile. “They've come for their cab.” He said cheekily. “Go on ahead, I'll see ya ‘round.”

You couldn't help but laugh at his comment, an instant mood booster despite being upset at your untimely departure. Pausing to give George a modest peck on the cheek, you stood from your spot on the sofa, collected your now rather disoriented looking friends, and shuffled out the door.

About two weeks later, you received a phone call from Ringo, inviting you to another party, this time of his own creation. In any other case, you would have declined, not feeling very social as of late, but no sooner did you open your mouth to object, a thought entered your brain. If Ringo was hosting the party, there’s a pretty good chance George was going to be there as well. 

George.

Ever since your last encounter with him at the previous party, he had been a lingering thought in all areas of your mind. The first time you met him, there was no room to have a meaningful chat as the awkward silence had taken up most if not all of the conversation. And last time appeared to be promising until your evening was cut short by your petulant plus-ones. But this time, there would be no distractions, and you were gonna make sure of it. This was the third time the great universe had given you another shot at making a connection with George, and there was no way you were going to pass it up. This time, you would be going solo. Having mentally finalized your decision, you graciously accepted Ringo’s invitation, and hung up the phone.

By the time the party rolled around, you were practically buzzing with excitement. All previous antisocial feelings had gone out the window, since now, you knew there was going to be something at this party that could spark your interest. When you arrived at the party, via cab of course, as now there was no need to play designated driver, you were immediately greeted by Ringo, who promptly offered you a drink and gently encouraged you to go mingle. 

This party was quite different from the last one. It was by no means a fancy gathering, but it felt much more sophisticated. There were less people than last time, greatly lowering the level of potential chaos. Despite the decreased number of guests, it was the most reserved form of the word ‘wild’ and it was still clear that everyone was having a great time. There was a record playing gentle dance music from one of the rooms. You weren’t sure if it was instrumental or you just couldn’t make out the lyrics, but you enjoyed it either way. You searched for the source of the music to hopefully catch the title of the record when you bumped into someone on the way out, nearly spilling your drink on their shirt. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” You shrieked, eyes still facing towards the floor in both confusion and embarrassment. You looked up to deliver another heartfelt apology and instead you froze, your eyes widening.

“Better watch where you’re headed, love.” George teased, punctuating his statement by brushing a stray strand of hair out of your face. You already felt yourself blushing, feeling the need to apologize even more fervently now that you knew your encounter had not been with a random stranger. 

“George!” You shrieked again, not sure why you said his name as you didn’t have anything to say after that, but followed it up with the best thing you could think of. “I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Following me, eh?” He mused, playfully poking you in the arm. You blushed harder, your free hand fidgeting with the bottom of your drink glass, the fingers on your other hand tapping the side awkwardly. 

“Perhaps it’s fate.” You blurted out, the thought sounding more confident in your head. But you felt yourself breathe a sigh of relief when George chuckled at your statement. 

“Divine timing.” he nodded knowingly.

“The universe wants us to keep meeting at these parties.” You giggled, trying to keep your composure while also ecstatic that George shared your theory. “It would be a shame to not accept the invitation. And besides, we never finished our conversation from last time.”

“I s’pose you make a point.” He grinned, flashing that ever-gorgeous fang-toothed smile. 

“So…shall we dance?” You offered, gesturing to the surrounding area between the two of you. George looked around, eyes following your hands at your silent gestures. 

“I don’t have the best moves, love, but I’ll try.” He laughed nervously. As if on cue, you heard the random instrumental record change, and a soft romantic melody began to play. You felt a large beaming smile spread across your face, silently thanking the universe yet again for its ‘divine timing’. “Ah,” George said softly, “now, slow dancing, I might be fair at.” He held his hand out for you to hold, which you happily accepted, assuming the slow dance positions.

George moved your hand that he was holding onto his shoulder, and you moved your other hand to his other shoulder. You felt like electricity was going to start buzzing out of you when George repositioned his hands to softly rest against your waist, but you tried your best to be calm. You let out an excited giggle that sounded more like a shriek, but George’s expression proved he found it rather endearing.

“Well…” he whispered, his voice vibrating as you rested your head on his chest, “you said you wanted to continue our other conversation?” You had gotten so comfortable with the current situation, your body filled with tranquility instead of nervousness, that you forgot you had even said that.

“Oh…” you trailed off, picking your head up from his chest to stare into his eyes, a warm deep brown you found yourself getting lost in, “right, I did say that. But for now I only have one question.” George continued to stare at you, gently nodding in wait for your question, the corners of his lips twitching upwards into a brief yet heartwarming grin. “Does divine timing work for romance as well?”

The second the sentence left your lips, the anxious part of you immediately wanted to take it back, but George didn’t mind. He smiled again, keeping his usual calm demeanor as he had done the whole time. “Well,” he began, same as how he usually started any of his philosophical observations, “if that is true, there would also have to be some sort of sign to confirm or deny it. Something to suggest if it is the right time, or something to interrupt it if the time isn’t right.” You listened intently, feeling yourself unconsciously smiling as he spoke, completely captivated by his perspective. You moved one of your hands higher on his shoulders to rest just above the collar of his shirt, brushing your fingers against the soft skin of his neck.

“Well how do we know if the time is right?” You asked, not even realizing you had already picked up his habit of putting that word at the beginning of sentences. But just as you posed the question, you felt time begin to slow down around you. Suddenly, all the other guests felt a million miles away, the music felt louder, and now, in that moment, it was just you and George, and nothing else mattered. It felt incredible, as your brain was able to block out all the other worldly noise, and just concentrate on the here and now, something you found yourself unable to do so effectively before.

George thought about it for a second, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, the edges of his mustache stretching out as a knowing smirk appeared on his face. “Well, let’s find out then, shall we?”

You thought he was going to do some sudden movement as if to attract the attention of the universe for any objections, or send a cheeky statement sailing out into the ether, but nothing could have prepared you for the moment he leaned forward to place a gentle kiss on your lips.

Your eyes widened in shock, feeling your fingers involuntarily grip at his shoulder, but that was soon replaced by an overwhelming joy spreading through your body. George placed his hand under your jaw, his fingers cupping your chin to deepen the kiss. You sighed happily, closing your eyes again and wrapping your arms around him, resting your wrists on the back of his neck. 

It was a purely heavenly sensation. You found yourself softly giggling against his lips, pulling away for a mere second to look in his eyes again. George smiled back at you, briefly looking around and boastfully shrugging his shoulders. “I guess the universe had no problem with that.” He quipped.

He opened his mouth to say something else but stopped, his eyes fixated on something in another room through one of the open doors as he let out an adorable little giggle. “In fact, I think we may have actually had a little help.” He turned back to you, pointing in the direction of whatever had caught his eye. You turned around to see Ringo standing over by the record player, proudly swirling his drink glass in one hand, his other hand holding the decorative album sleeve for the romantic record that was currently playing. He raised his glass to toast the happy couple from afar, sealing his stamp of accomplishment with a supportive, bright-blue-eyed wink. You and George laughed in stereo, your smile growing wider as you gave Ringo a grateful two thumbs up before turning back to George.

“I guess the universe did have a plan for us.” You joked, not sure if you felt yourself release a dreamy sigh or it was all in your mind. 

George nodded agreeingly, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear as he stared into your eyes. “I guess it did.” He laughed before pulling you closer for another loving kiss.

==============================

AAAAA I'm so happy with how this one turned out! I did go a little rogue off the request by adding Ringo in the mix lol but I think it still works well and I hope y'all think so too 🥰 Taglist: @little-bit-of-mystery @nosegoes @cocteautwiny @queen-of-stars @thatgoesinthere-misshapes @harrisongslimited @hyasynth1

If you would like to be added to this list, comment on this post or send me an ask!

[alex-st4rr]

I'm sick so this probably sucks but I'M TRYING 😿

___________________________________The Beatles were in the studio, practicing songs.

George's voice filled the room as he sang "do you want to know a secret?"

The guitarist played and sang at the same time.

"Listen...do you want to know a secret,do you promise not to tell?"

He chuckled between verses

"Ooh...closer,let me whisper in your ear... Say the words you long to hear... I'm in love with you."

He sang,his eyes falling onto the drummer a few feet away when he sang the last verse.

The drummer glnaced in his direction and gave him a lil smile.

Later they finished working and the band was mostly chatting and stuff. Paul were basically the third and forth wheels in this... interesting situation in front of them.

George and Ringo were glancing at each other lovingly,their fingers interlocked.

Paul turned to John and whispered

"I've never seen anyone so stupid in love,how can they not see it??"

The other man Chuckled and said

"For them it's natural...like soulmates"

___________________________________

Wanted to thank my friend for the idea

@the4shoes I LOVE YOU SO MUCH

[sunflowersinthedirt]

DATING PAUL MCCARTNEY 1960/1964 🎸

First post here! Gifs aren’t mine. I’m sorry if it has any typo, english is not my first language.

• Paul would be the perfect boyfriend in his own way, a true English gentleman.

• He opens the door, pulls out chairs... You never pay for the bill.

• Paul loves to spoil you with gifts.

• Paul used to write songs about you but he was too shy to show them to you.

• He would loooove teach you how to play the guitar and piano, and if you sing, he would ask you to sing for him to hear.

• Paul is an uninhibited man and knows about the reputation he has as the "cute Beatle," but around you, he would become shy at first.

• Still, Paul can't keep his hands off you.

• He likes to walk holding your hand, steal kisses from you to see you blush, Paul likes to touch you all the time.

• Long conversations late at night in the company of his guitar, tea, cigarettes, and Martha.

• You adopted Martha together, and Paul would proudly say that you were Martha's mother.

• Paul loves rainy days and at every opportunity would drag you to bed to sleep with him to the sound of raindrops falling on the roof.

• You would travel the world with Paul if you wanted to go on tour with him.

• Even when you couldn't go with Paul, he would send you letters every day - no matter what country he was in. Letters and postcards, until you had to have more than one box to keep them.

• Paul would give you gifts related to him so that you wouldn't forget him when he was far away.

• Paul wasn't jealous of you with the boys, and you were the first to break the rule that women couldn't be in the studio.

• The boys adored you and would make jokes about how Paul only talked about you and how many songs he had already written and played for them dedicated to you.

[sturn-saturn]

idk this tiktok gave me the same vibes for some reason

[bealtesharrisonmacca]

The algorithm works✊

[ilovegeorgie]

you know i believe and how

george harrison x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none ! just fluffy geo <3

summary: george confesses his love with a song abt you !!

a/n: ik this isn't how "something" was written, but i thought it would be a pretty cute way to imagine georgie :)

the living room was quiet while george sat on the floor obvliviously plucking at the strings. she sat opposite to him on the couch, her legs tucked under while sipping from a cup of tea. the glow coming from the fireplace lit her face, and george thought she’d never looked more pretty.

“you’re awfully quiet tonight, george” she said curious. “what’s going on that mind of yours?”

he glanced up at her, his pretty lips curving into a small smile.

“nothing much, really” he replied, though the truth lingered just behind his words.

she tilted her head, her eyes narrowing slightly in that way she always did when she didn’t quite believe him.

“oh come on, georgie” she teased gently. “i know theres something going on, so tell me what is it” she said while leaving the cup on the table.

he hesitated, his fingers brushing the strings of his guitar in a nervously.

“well, lately i’ve been working on something,” he said at last. “a song, you know..”

her expression softened at his words, and she leaned forward a little.

“did you already showed it to the band..?”

he shook his head, his gaze dropping to the guitar.

“uhm, not really, it's not for them.”

“not for them?” she repeated softly. “then who’s it for?”

he swallowed hard, lifting his gace to see the features that he dreamed of almost every night. the firelight reflected in her eyes, and for a moment, he forgot all the lyrics he’d written, all the melodies he’d ever rehearsed.

“for you,” he murmured, the words quiet but confident.

her breath got caught for just a second, her cheeks flushing faintly.

“for me?” she repeated.

he nodded, gripping the guitar a little tighter.

“i’ve been meaning to tell you something,” he said, his voice steadier now. “but i couldn't put it into words, so i.. well, i wrote a song about it.”

her smile softened, and she sank back into the couch, her eyes never leaving his.

“could you play it for me maybe?” she whispered.

george took a deep breath, adjusted his guitar, and let his fingers dance on the guitars frets. the melody was slow, almost hesitant at first, but as he played, the music seemed to wrap around the room.

something in the way she moves...

his voice was low, intimate, and as he sang, his gaze flickered up to meet hers.

attracts me like no other lover…

she never looked away from him, her eyes shining, her lips parted slightly as though she might speak but didn’t dare interrupt.

something in the way she woos me,

i don’t want to leave her now…

when the song ended, silence filled the room. george set the guitar aside, his fingers lingering on the strings for just a moment before he looked back at her.

“so?” he asked, his voice soft. “what do you think?.. do you like it?”

she leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees as her gaze locked with his.

“oh georgie,” she began, her voice barely above a whisper, “that was so beautiful.”

he smiled shyly, “you really mean that?”

“of course i do,” she said, moving from the couch to sit beside him on the floor. her hand reached out, hesitating for just a moment before resting on his. “you put your heart into that song, didn’t you?”

he nodded, his thumb brushing lightly against hers.

“i did,” he admitted, his voice quiet. “mainly because it’s about you. you’re… you’re something.. i’ve never felt this way before, and i don’t want to mess it up by saying the wrong thing, so I thought…”

her other hand came up to rest against his cheek, stopping him mid-sentence.

“you didn’t mess anything up,” she said gently. “you could never,”

his breath hitched as her thumb brushed his cheekbone, she leaned closer.

“and just for the record, i love you george, if it was not clear”

the words washed over him, filling every corner of his heart. without thinking, george tilted his head just slightly, closing the space between them until their lips met.

the kiss was slow, sweet, and full of everything they hadn’t yet said. when they pulled apart, she rested her forehead against his, her smile wide and radiant.

“i'm just curious," she said softly "do you like me?"

george chuckled softly, his breath still shaky from the kiss, pulling her closer, resting his forehead against hers, savoring the warmth of the moment.

“do I like you?” he repeated, his voice a little hoarse. “i think you know the answer to that.”

she laughed lightly, her fingers tracing his features.

“yeah, i guess i do,” she replied, “i just wanted to hear you say it.”

he smiled, his heart swelling in his chest. george looked into her eyes, the firelight flickering in her pupils, and everything else faded into the background.

“i like you more than i can put into words,” he said, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “more than i ever expected to and more than i thought was possible.”

her eyes softened, and she leaned in, kissing him again, this time with a gentle pressure that made his heart race. when they pulled apart, she smiled, her cheeks flushed.

they sat there in the dim light, the warmth of the fire wrapping around them like a blanket. george didn’t need to say more; the music, the kiss, and the way they held eachother was all they needed.

"so.. do i get to hear that song again?”

george chuckled, picking up his guitar once more.

“as many times as you’d like,” he promised.

[crepesuzette2023]

Any Mclennon tooth rotting Fluff recommendations?

Sometimes, tooth-rotting fluff is the only acceptable way to be. Here are some stories I love.

Early Days Fluff

One after 909 (@beatlessideblog). Extra to the epic, brilliant, perfectly realized, actually, physically heartwarming, big fat novel-length comfort fic of eternity, I Need You Darlin (So Come Go With Me). 1960. Paul and Mike come back from a visit to Wales. John awaits them at the train station.

You Really Got A Hold on Me (@beatlessideblog). Another INYD extra. Paul comforts John after a nightmare.

Trés bien ensemble (@javelinbk). Paul is trying to be enigmatic and French. He manages to pull John.

Hamburg Fluff (it's possible!)

A Time and Place (poetofstarlight). Dazzling lyricism and sweet banter amidst the early morning grime.

after bombardment, sonya (inherownwrite). Paul and John share a bath.

Could I have this dance? (@ohjohnnysblog). Paul loses a bet and dances with John. What starts as a joke becomes...the sweetest thing.

Paris Fluff (bien sur!)

A touch can mean so much (@saint-mona). 1961. Hot and gorgeous early morning sex.

I Don't Care too Much (@notgrungybitchin). 1961. John does his best to be Paul's sugar daddy.

Stop. Don't Stop. (HerSpecialAgent005). 1966 Paris deserves some love, too! A classic for a reason.

Mop Top Fluff

One Sweet Dream (@pie-of-flames). Paul wakes up hard and dripping after a dirty dream of John. They're in a hotel room with the other two. They need to be quiet. Porn with feelings!

Don't Think About It (@merseydreams). Technically early days until the beginning of fame, with a dash of Paris. Paul and John are adorable and oblivious throughout...! Paul POV.

Slow Dancing (@ohjohnnysblog). John and Paul find a private moment to slow-dance on the beach. I Only Have Eyes for You...

Christmas Fluff

Let your heart be light (@backbenttulips). 1967. John and Paul spend the run-up to Christmas together. Everything is as it should be.

Can you still love me tomorrow? (ImagineBeatles) Modern AU/Fake Dating.

Psychedelic Era (hot) Fluff

Again (@scurator). 1967. John and Paul make love. Again and again. God Only Knows.

tune me up and turn me out (@pauls1967moustache). John and Paul are horny and in love.

70's Fluff

February in New Orleans (@eveepe). John and May visit Paul and Linda. "Fluff" might be a bit of a reach, but...a very loving foursome ensues.

80's/ AU fluff

This Year's for Me and You (@skylikeaflame). Paul and John finally get together

take the shape my body makes (@backbenttulips). Old marrieds John and Paul have sex in a sex shop after watching very...interesting porn.

[lick-me-lennon22]

Poly!Beatles X Heartbroken!Reader - With A Little Help From My Friends

(hello lovebugs! 🐞 please enjoy this request fill for anon, who asked for a poly!beatles fic where the boys comfort the reader who is still reeling from a recent breakup)

The air felt heavy as you sat on the worn-out couch, your fingers tracing absent-minded patterns on the surface of a book you hadn't bothered to open. The memories of your recent breakup lingered like a stubborn stain, refusing to fade with time. It had been weeks since then, yet the ache in your chest persisted, a constant reminder of what once was.

You heard the door creak open, and through the blur of your thoughts, you recognized the familiar voices of the Beatles. "Honey, we're home!" John called out in a singsong voice as he, Paul, George, and Ringo entered your flat, placing armfuls of groceries down on the countertop.

Noticing your lack of response, they exchanged worried glances, silently acknowledging the gravity of the situation.

"Hey, love," Paul greeted softly, his eyes filled with concern as he took in your distant expression.

"Everything alright?" George asked, his voice laced with genuine worry.

You forced a smile, nodding faintly. "Yeah, just... thinking."

John sat down beside you, his presence a comforting weight against your side. "Care to elaborate?"

You chuckled, shaking your head. "Not really."

John's expression softened and he sighed, deciding he would be the one to break the ice. "We can see that it's still hurting you, you know."

Ringo chimed in, his voice gentle. "We hate seeing you like this, love. It's not right."

You swallowed the lump in your throat, the warmth of their concern seeping through the cracks in your facade. "I... I'm trying to move on, but it's not easy."

Paul wrapped his arm around you in a gentle embrace, his touch grounding you. "You don't have to do it alone, you know. We're here for you, remember? Through thick and thin."

The other three lads quickly joined in the hug as their words washed over you like a tidal wave of peace, the soothing balm of their voices easing the ache in your heart just a fraction. For so long, you had shouldered your pain alone, convinced that no one could understand the depth of your despair. But in that moment, you realized you were not alone - that you never had been. Here they were, your knights in shining armor, surrounding you with the warm glow of their love. In their presence, you felt safe, cherished, and understood- feelings you had thought were lost forever in the wake of your breakup.

"Thanks, guys," you murmured, the weight of your burdens lifting with each passing moment. "I really appreciate it."

"Anytime, love," Paul reassured, stroking your hair affectionately. "We've got more than enough love to go around, you know."

Tears welled up in your eyes as you leaned into their embrace, allowing yourself to be enveloped by their love and warmth. In that moment, the weight of your past began to lift, replaced by the promise of a brighter future - one where you were surrounded by the unwavering support of the four men who had come to mean everything to you.

As the evening faded into night, you clung to them tightly, grateful for the four men who had become your rock, your refuge, and your home. No matter what the future held, you knew that you would always have them by your side, guiding you through the storm and into the light.

[georgeharrisonlover]

If I Fell | Part 2

Summary: After giving my number to George the night we met, I wait upon the call. He asks me out on a date. Does this affect the future from now on or?

Liverpool 63'

Fluff

Words: 1438

George Harrison x Reader

It's been a few days since I gave George my number. That's all I could have been wondering about for the past few days. Every time the phone rang, I thought it was him, but no.

One afternoon, I heard the phone ring once, and I ignored it since I thought it wouldn't be George. I hear another ring and go to answer it. 

“Hello,” I said with a saddened voice.

“Hello, Is this y/n? It's George… George Harrison from The Cavern”

I couldn't stop smiling, after waiting these few days he finally rang me up. “Oh yes, this is her speaking!” I said in a chirping voice. 

“Hey. Um, I was wondering if you would wanna have dinner and go to the cavern? I have to perform again with the boys. If you want to go?” said George with a pleasing voice.

“I thought you’d never ask!” Both chuckle through the phone, exchanging locations for George to pick me up.

“So see you at 6 o'clock,” he said. 

“See ya bye!” I replied.

“Bye!” the phone then ended. After that, I went running into my room deciding what to wear.

A few hours passed, and all I could think about was the dinner I and George would be having and seeing him perform. Finishing a few more touches, I grab my purse.

Seeing George standing outside my apartment complex. Aw man, he's very handsome, I could admire him forever.

“Hello, love,” said George.

“Hey George,” I replied.

We both went walking to dinner and it took a little while, but we both enjoyed the conversation.

Arriving at the restaurant, I could spot the rest of the boys there, Ringo, Paul, and John. Trying to hide in the corner of the restaurant with glasses and fake mustaches. I looked at George and thought he’d know about this but he didn't. He was focusing on the dinner reservation he had made.

The next moment George grabs my hand, feeling his sweaty palms, and takes me in the direction of the table. It was right next to the boys. I could hear their little giggles, wondering how George hadn't noticed them yet.

George and I started a conversation, getting to know each other more. He was talking about how he started playing the guitar, what kind of music he listened to, and about the boys. He was telling me all about them and their little secrets, and I could see the boys' faces started turning red from the embarrassment. I couldn't help but laugh. Me and George enjoyed dinner and hoped that this would last forever. 

The time came to leave the restaurant and finally, George noticed the boys right next to us. I could see his face turn angry at the boys for not letting him have one dinner with a girl he met. 

“Why are you guys here? I told you guys, I would tell you everything that happened,” said George with anger. 

“Well we had to get to know more about y/n before we approve,” said John.

“You're Not my mother, John,” said George.

“Well it's good we came 'cause you exposed all our little secrets,” said Paul.

Me and Ringo stared at each other and just started cracking up. We both thought it was a skit but it wasn't. All three of them, George, John, and Paul were serious. Ringo and I just couldn't stop laughing, that out of nowhere they started too.

“Man, what a night!” I said. Everyone agrees

Leaving the restaurant we all walked to the cavern. Everyone was talking about everything, like the dinner we just had and the performance they were going to have. Me and George were holding each other's hands and admiring the whole moment.

“Ay look George finally holding a girl's hand!” chuckled Ringo.

“Finally man, cheers on both of them!” said John. Man, what a group George was in and I enjoyed it.

Georges POV

Man, what a night I have spent with Y/n. She's just amazing, especially with the boys. They are all embarrassing me and I have had enough. I think she's the one. Maybe too soon to say but man she's the only one who gets me. I could admired her for all my life.

Right now we are still walking with the boys to the cavern. Y/n is talking to the boys and making the boys laugh. I stared at her the whole way there, thank God she or the boys noticed.

Arriving at the cavern, I was still holding her hand. Helping her go down the stairs. Me and the boys have to perform in less than 15 minutes. The boys went rushing to prepare while I took y/n to grab a drink and seat her near the stage.

“I’ll be back, just watch us, please,” I said with a smile.

“Okay!” she smiled.

Her smile would be stuck in my mind the whole night performing. As I went to the boys, I could overhear them talking about Y/n. 

“Man, if George doesn't take her and appreciate her, man, I might have to steal her from him,” said Paul. 

“Right! If he doesn't, he’ll get a piece from us,” said Ringo.

Interrupting their conversation, I entered, “She's the one guys!” All of the three jumped with fear.

“Ah man, why’d you do that,” said John. 

“She the one, she's everything I want and more!” I said even louder and prouder. 

“Well she better and if not I will steal her,” said Paul. Ringo nodded to what Paul had said.

In preparing for the performance, I want to perform a special thing just for y/n. “Hey guys, could I possibly sing a song tonight?” I said.

“What song is on your mind?” said John.

“Oooo is this for her,” said Ringo. 

“Maybe” I chuckled.

Getting on the stage, I was pure nervous. I know I had performed in front of y/n but this time it felt more serious. I glanced at her smile and it was wonderful. Performing for a couple minutes it was my turn to sing.

“Well I love singing, but I think it's time for someone new. For the next performance, George, our lead guitarist will sing Take Care of My Baby, sung by Bobby Vee,” said John, and I went up to the mic.

…

After singing the song, I saw her smiling even more. It was just a wonderful night. Everything that happened today would be for the books.

…

Back to Y/n POV

I just finished watching George play Take Care of My Baby by Bobby Vee. It was just amazing. His voice was just different from the others. They kept playing after George sang. 

After the performance, I sat there thinking about the moments that had happened. It felt romantic. I felt a tap on my shoulder. That made me come to realize reality. I looked up and it was George.

I immediately smiled. Standing up immediately and hugging him. “You were amazing and so were the other boys!” I said hugging him.

“Thank you!” George said.

This moment was amazing. We both then held each other's hands and walked to get his guitar and met the rest of the boys. 

…

“So y/n, we approve for you to date our lovely George, please take care of him, he's one in a million,” said Ringo. I giggle at Ringo's response.

“Well you guys better, because I think she's the one,” said George. 

I felt my heart skip a beat. I never heard someone say that, not like in the movies. I looked up at George smiling, and he smiled back. 

…

All of us started going up the stairs and finally hit the fresh air out of the cavern. Everyone was going home except George, who was planning to leave me at my apartment. You all said your goodbyes and parted ways. Me and George walked a few blocks to arrive at my destination.

“It was a wonderful night with you, y/n!” said George.

“It was, especially that song you sang,” I said

“It reminded me of you,” He said.

Smiling at his response, I replied “We should go on another date soon!”

“Maybe sooner than you think” He winked. 

This was the final goodbye for now. “Goodbye y/n,” George said.

“Goodbye George,” I said. As I leaned in to give him a light kiss on his lips. 

After that, I ran to my apartment. Thinking to myself, what a night.