#ringo starkey

Ringos so cutie

Hi everyone!! This is my first time writing something like this, so I hope it's satisfactory.

Keep in mind that while you read that this is satire and to not take this seriously! This is based around CBML by Brummelliana on itch.io, so if you haven't played that before, I recommend doing that as this fanfic will very likely not make sense otherwise. This will get vaguely explicit towards the end, so just be cautious about that.

Enjoy!!

You rather begrudgingly follow Paul through the door of The Beatles' flat at 57 Green Street, belongings burned and dignity stripped.

You see, you had just been sold by your horrendous mother, who hated you, to Paul McCartney of the Beatles. The Beatles! You HATED the Beatles. You were not like the other girls. You only wanted to listen to OLD music, like Beethoven or something.

Anyways, the door was labeled "L." You did not know why. I don't either.

When you first stepped in, you were met with three young men seated at a table, appearing to be having morning tea. This was very important, as you British people must have tea multiple times a day. It's an integral part of your diet.

They had very surly faces, sitting there with their awful mops of hair. The one on the left had large, thick eyebrows and a pinched face. He vaguely resembled a stick-bug in his general appearance, bent over his rations. You could see he had some large teeth when he opened his mouth.

The second one, in the middle, had a very square-ular face and a pointy nose with eyes that looked like almonds. The man appeared vaguely like Juliet Greco, if Juliet Greco were an English lad from Liverpool. He was the stockist of them all.

The third one was the smallest. He looked similar to a basset hound, with his big blue eyes. This man, however, stared with a sort of fascination. You did not know why.

Either way... How far had society fallen... If these are the idols of today's youth.

"By gum, Macca. You've got to stop buying hookers." The stick-bug-looking one said.

Paul joined the other three at the table, sitting down. You noticed there was no seat for you. Instead, Paul pushed on your shoulders until you were seated on the floor.

"It's uh.. bad for our image if you're trifling with prossies." The little one said, turning to Paul but sneaking glances towards you. "Just fuck regular broads like the rest of us."

Paul rolls his eyes, groaning to himself. He was very saucy. "Well, I DO fuck regular broads, right. But as I've told you lads already...! I've got unique tastes only a hooker would be accustomed to." He states this in an entitled way, his lips almost drawn in a pout. "It'd be worse for us if I divulge it to a regular bird and she runs off to the press!" Paul declares. Then he bites his cheek and mutters to himself. "Discretion is preferable in this scenario, y'know..."

He brightens right back up then, grabbing you by the arm. "But Y/N's no hooker, actually!" The Liverpool lads give him a look of surprise at this, almost intrigued. "I've bought her up her Mum for no less than 10 quid." Paul declares, quite pleased.

It seems as if there was a record scratch, but despite being in a music group, these were men of flesh, not in LP form at this present point in time.

"Good Lord, Macca, you've bought a fuckin girl?!" The Juliet Greco wannabe shouts. "Paul, ye can't just buy a fuckin girl." The first one says, seemingly more concerned.

Paul holds out his hands in a way that resembles that one Druski meme. "Lads, c'mon! ...How often do you get a chance like that? I was reading the paper, y'know... And I saw the listing... Well, we've got that album coming out tomorrow. So we've got the money coming in." He says firmly.

"Isn't that... Y'know..." The stick-bug hesitates. "...illegal?" Paul pouts some more. "C'mon... Better me than someone else!" He winks. He was more womanly than you were.

The members now look at you. You did not like this. "Er..." The wannabe says unintelligently. His voice was rough, staring with beady eyes. "Would say take 'er back to 'er mother... But as she sold 'er for ten quid, not sure tha's a good idea..."

This was all getting to be a bit much for you. It had been one hell of a morning, and it wasn't even 10 am.

"Cor..." You mutter, pressing your palm to your forehead, pushing back your brown hair. You speak up with a question, despite being deeply flustered. "So... How's this gonna go?" The larger one looked at Paul with mild offense and surprise. "She talked."

Paul looks down at you and hushes you gently. "Shh-" The insect cuts him off. "Well, go put 'er somewhere, then." He suggests. Paul becomes cheery again, rubbing his hands together like one of those cheesy cartoon villains, except happier. He turns to you. "Ohhkay. Let's getcha acquainted, then!" He winks.

---------------------------------------------------

A cage. He put you in a fucking cage.

This was not something you enjoyed. In fact, you despised it. You despised all of this. Stupid Beatles! Stupid men! Stupid music, stupid mother! You wanted your old music! Your cylinders, your room... You wouldn't put up with this! No sir-ee! You would break out of this cage, find that good-for-nothing, cunty little man, and give him a piece of your mind! Yeah! Down with the patriarchy! Eat the rich! Stop the war...

You sigh.

Oh, what was the use? You were locked in this crate, and Paul would surely just get angry if you tried to leave...

You curl up in your cage and close your eyes in resignation.

---------------------------------------------------

You stir slightly, feeling a finger poke at you as if you were an animal in a zoo exhibit. Which, let's be real, you might as well have been.

This was not Paul. You knew this because Paul smelled of cunt and cigarettes. This was also not the insect, whose name you had learned was George. George had also interrupted your slumber previously. George smelled of foodstuffs, cigarettes, and Tabac Original Eau De Cologne. This one smelled like canned beans, cigarettes, and cognac. You were familiar with cognac because your mother was an alcoholic.

You open your eyes, looking around confusedly. You could not see anyone. That was, until the person spoke up.

"Ello luv."

It was the little one from earlier, sitting on the ground down low. You hadn't noticed him at first.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't see you down there." You apologize.

The little man sighs, clearly bothered by something. "O' course... That's the way it always is." He sighed.

You frown, surprised by the sudden depression emanating from the small band member. "How so?" You question. You were not familiar with the way these modern bands worked.

"You see, no matter what, I'm lower than the others... Whether it's down here or up on me drums." He explains, deeply sorrowful.

You suddenly feel very bad for this poor little man. "So you're... Different than the others? Cast aside?" You suggest.

"I suppose? Perhaps."

You thought it was almost as if... He wasn't like the other *lads.* You related to this heavily. Except you were not a lad. You were a girl.

"I understand. Everyone casts me aside because I'm not like other girls."

Ringo blinks. "....I see."

"Oh, you lovely man... I'm sorry. In my heart, you'll always be right up there too, with everyone else."

He smiles a bit, a sweet little smile. "Can't believe he's keeping a sweet thing like you all locked up in a cage... Not right to treat a lady like that." He mutters.

You blush at this, thinking about what a gentleman he was. A right sweetheart. You tilt your head, nodding. "Yes. Very improper." You agree.

"I'm Ringo, by the way. Me real name's Richard, but they call me Ringo 'cause of my rings." He informed you. "I'm Y/N." You replied. He tries to kiss the fingers you had gripping the bars of the cage in place of kissing your hand. You giggle coyly at this.

"Sorray I woke you earlier, luv. Just... Curious about you, I suppose." He says.

"That's alright. You're not the first one." You admit, referring to George. "I had just been dreaming again anyway. Still nothing sexual. And still not anything about Paul."

Ringo squints. "Right... That would be odd." He says. You nod again. "Yes. Especially because I hate him so much. "

It's silent for a moment, and you look at each other. He was quite attractive, actually, you realized with a growing lust. His big nose... Blue eyes... And surely he could keep a good rhythm... You surely would drive his car.

"Ringo?" You whisper.

"Yes?" He replies.

"Will you let me out, please? Save me from Paul?" You ask very nicely.

Ringo ponders this for a moment, then nods. "Alright. But we'll have to be careful! He'll have me on a platter otherwise..."

He unlatches the cage, and you spring out, pouncing on him. He topples backwards with a sound of surprise.

Your lips meet his in a passionate kiss. Ringo takes a moment to process this, but quickly kisses back. Before you know it, he's got you up in his arms, legs wrapped around him, and he's carrying you to his room.

"Oh, darling." He groans as you break away for air. "It's only 1963, and besides, that's not even your song." You reply, before going back in for seconds. You arrive in his room, and the two of you tumble into his bed.

Ringo undresses you with haste, and you gleefully allow him to. You pull at his own clothes, fishing out his humongous, hard, spitting cobra. Golly gee, it must've been 9 inches easily! What a monster. You sure understood your mother now.

"You may not be 16, but you sure are beautiful *and* you're mine." Ringo declares loudly, before slamming his clam hammer into your weeping flower. You moan obscenely.

Would it be alright if I request Ringo (or any of them) with a reader is also a Singer/Musician ? How they met, confessed all that Jazz just very fluffy 😋 remember to drink water & take care of yourself ! 💌

aww you’re sweet. i couldn’t say no to this even if i wanted to!

“Be My Baby!” 𐙚🧸ྀི

Ringo Starr x Singer!Reader

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content warning: None! except…i made it a bit long cuz i really liked this request🥹

fem!reader 𝜗𝜚⋆₊˚ first kiss, very very fluffy, just for you! ☺️☺️

Ringo Starr certainly did not expect to find love at this press conference he and the others were attending. Most times, women screamed over the journalists as they tried their best to get questions that would end up on the front of some cheeky newspaper. Questions which only served to annoy the young men, anyways. It never really occurred to him that these daft little things could actually lead to a major change in his life.

not until he saw you.

a man, your manager, held your arm as the two of you pushed and shoved your way through the crowd of fans more focused on the boys sitting in front of thousands more people. Ringo doesn’t know how you caught his eye. maybe it was how your hair just happened to be more neatly kept than all the others. maybe it was the outfit you wore. maybe it was how you seemed to not care about him or his band as they reluctantly answered foolish questions.

but he saw you.

and he just couldn’t look away.

“Ringo,” Paul had teasingly started in a sing-songy tone, running up beside the bloke who oh-so-quickly made an effort to leave as soon as he could. “Which talent in the crowd caught your eye?”

“I don’t know what you’re yabbering about.” Ringo mumbled, seemingly stuck in thought as his droopy blue eyes scanned through endless people just for you.

no luck. damn it.

his shoulders sunk in disappointment.

“mm.” Paul hummed, unsatisfied. “I’m sure you could snag her, if that’s what you’re all knotted about.”

he lit a cigarette and passed the flame to ringo. he just shook is head.

“Not even a smoke? christ, ringo! she’d better be quite fine for this behavior.”

“oh nod off. i’m not trying to fix myself up for some girl. she’ll only reject me in the end.”

paul shrugged.

“Hey, have you seen the others?” the taller beatle finally asked.

“Paulie! Rich!” John’s voice was heard, seemingly over a crowd of screaming girls. The two young men looked over their shoulders to see him; with a shorter woman tucked at his side.

“ah. already found one for the night i see.” Paul muttered under his breath, blowing out a huff of smoke from his lips.

Ringo froze, looking directly into your eyes. your beautiful, sweet eyes.

you didn’t seem to care that the john lennon had his arm over your shoulder, playing with a piece of your hair.

you just looked at ringo curiously.

he looked at you like you hung the stars and moon.

his feet moved without him even thinking.

“This is (name). Brian says we’re gonna do some sorta’ tune with her some time this week during our trip.” John said, looking down at you with a small smirk. “Ain’t that right, love?”

you just rolled your eyes, a laugh escaping your lips.

“it is. although i can’t say im too excited to work with such a cheeky thing like you.” You retorted, shrugging his arm off.

john’s mouth went slack. george huffed in amusement.

“ah, the great lennon has been rejected. what will come of him?” Paul mocked, knuckling his fist into John’s moppy hair. the two bickered as ringo approached you, arm already extended with a hand for you to shake.

“Ringo.” He mutters.

“Hello.” You smile. “I’m quite glad to meet you.”

he blushes.

“I should say the same to you. you’re a singer, aren’t you?”

“Well,” you rub your neck. “If i’m bein’ honest, my manager really just picked me from some bar a month or two ago. I was singing and next thing you know, i’m thrown into a studio to test my ‘true potential’.”

you sighed.

“he said all i need is the right collaboration, and I’ll be up and ready on my own.”

Ringo hummed, really just admiring the way your lips moved or how your eyes creased while you nervously laughed at the words you were saying. blah blah blah, proper name. place name. backstory stuff.

“anyway,” you snapped him out of his daze, which surely kept on for the long while that you were nervously chatting his ear off. “I can hear my name being called. prolly have to get back to my hotel before it gets too dark.”

“Let me walk you to your car!” Ringo blurted, a small smile emerging over his lips as he watched flush spread over your cheeks.

“…i’d like that.” you grinned.

and it all kind of went from there. John would bitterly watch as the two of you exchanged slushy glances, or would let touches linger longer than one would while handing over simple objects; such as tea mugs. it’s not like lennon was into you, but he certainly didn’t like that the goofy one in the group was getting so close with the woman who rejected him.

Even while recording songs, you asked if you could stand closer to ringo while he played his part. you would try to mimic his technique, and he would laugh at your frustration when he’d intentionally speed up the tempo.

“it just takes a lil’ bit o’ practice, you know what i mean?” he gleamed.

“right.” you said, a little more motivated this time. “I got this!”

using a drum set made out of cardboard boxes, paper plates on sticks, and chopsticks for your drumsticks, Ringo would intentionally stay after sessions just to teach you.

in the past, you never cared much for drums. not until you watched ringo play, and the way he would smile every time his bandmates really got into the groove of the mood.

now it was something you practiced with your fingers against a counter or the steering wheel of your car.

the beatles had a limited amount of time with you. by sunday, you were supposed to have a song ready to release to the public for the new album you had been working on.

it was thursday when Ringo had let you actually play his drums.

“c’mon lads. just let her play for one take. she’ll do fine!” he begged the others.

you laughed nervously as they all eyed you each time you would throw them off tempo, or even hit the set a little too loud.

“Y’know, drummers like you actually make me appreciate ringo.” George had said dryly. you couldn’t tell he was teasing until you saw the slight smirk pull at his lips when your cheeks flushed.

ringo just clicked his tongue.

“ay, be nice to the bird. i’as just as bad till i got more hours in with some other groups!” he patted your shoulder as you slumped over his drum-set with faux disappointment.

“guess this means we will need to practice a little more together then, right?” you muttered, trying to sound upset despite the smile creeping over your lips.

ringo just laughed in response.

he was hopelessly in love with you. your voice was as smooth as butter, and it pulled him in with each pause or deep breath.

you were going to make it big.

you were beautiful, sweet, and had charm like no other woman he’d met.

though with each day he got to know you, he couldn’t help but worry about the deadline of your time spent together.

it was sunday night, and the beatles had to fly out first thing the next morning.

“Do ya think your manager’d let ya fly down with us?” He asked with a hopeful optimism. the two of you sat down by a lake, admiring the way shining stars would bless the water with their light.

you shook your head, eyes averted off to the side. Ringo knew you weren’t too glad about them leaving either. despite the boys being rather cheeky at times, you’d still grown to appreciate what they had to teach you. george joked that if you weren’t ringo’s girl, he’d have already tried to get ya.

you just blushed; having been referred to as “ringo’s girl”.

however, ringo didn’t think it was a joke for some reason. he made sure to keep you away from george after that.

“I really don’t think so, richie.” you whispered, twiddling your thumbs.

ringo watched your expression crumble slightly, and it made his stomach twist into knots. he put his calloused, rough hand on yours.

“don’t get so worked up over a day that hasn’t come yet.” he teases with a slight tug at the lips, clearly trying to break the tension.

“Ringo, you’re leaving tomorrow.” you deadpanned, a little bit taken aback by his optimism.

“Tomorrow never knows.” he shrugs, eyes trying to find yours. you seemed to intentionally avoid the contact, which made him pull away just slightly.

your eyes pooled with tears.

“I’m going to miss you dearly.” you whisper, voice cracking with emotions that you’re clearly trying holding back. “I…I’m afraid you’ll forget me.”

weirdly enough, his heart skipped a beat.

forget you?

who in christs sake could forget you!?

he quietly laughed, making your head whip towards him.

“is there something funny about my feelings!?” you scolded, crossing your arms against your chest with heightened defensiveness.

“no, no! christ, no.” he quickly shook his hands, trying to ease the furrow in your brow with a nervous smile. “it’s only, i was worried the same thing.” Ringo admits.

…

your shoulders seem to relax at that.

“really?”

“well yeah. I don’t say nothin’ i don’t mean.”

…

“I really like you, richie.” you whisper, eyes darting desperately over his face for signs that he feels only slightly the same. your hands find his, and your thumbs find themselves tracing over his knuckles with reverence.

his smile softens, taking on a warmer and more grateful expression.

“i quite like you too, beautiful.” his gaze traces the way your nose curves, taking in any freckle or mole with some gentle gratitude that they are there. every part of you was just so beautiful.

you suddenly felt embarrassed.

ringos eyes dart down to your lips, then back to your eyes. with the way his tongue darted out to wet his lips and how his hand moved up to brush some hair out of your face, you knew at that moment it was time.

his eyes asked the question. you just nodded.

butterflies pooled in your stomach as ringo tilted his head to the side, leaning forward just enough to press his lips against yours. testing the waters, he waited until your tension subsided before he cupped your chin and lifted it into the sensation, taking in the moment for as long as it would last.

“how could i forget you now?” he teases after the contact breaks, forehead rested against yours. your eyes were shut, brows knit in concentration.

“what’re you doin? havin’ a stroke?” Ringo blinks, pulling away to look at your face.

“that was my first kiss. and it was with ringo star. i might faint, so please just leave me here with my humiliation if i do.”

“ah. i see.” he shrugs.

and after that night, you knew you would see each other again. ringo made sure to visit you each time the beatles went down to the U.S, and you made sure to write as much as you could.

just as your manager predicted; you made it big. you did commercials, ads, and had your own sections in magazines.

if there was one thing ringo was sure to do, it was to collect every little thing you did in any way he could.

he was just as much of a fangirl as you were at this point.

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guh