Paulmcartney Stories

*A Beatles fan-fiction* Amanda is a thief. She doesn't steal because she needs to. She has plenty of money. She steals because it's fun One night. One broken heart. One priceless painting up in flames. That's all it takes to rip Amanda's world to pieces. Now everything she loves is at stake. Amanda is a thief. She doesn't steal because it's fun. She has a target on her back. She steals to survive.

Darcy is now homeless. Her mother was murdered in front of her eyes by her father who then turned to abuse her for two years. After her father got bored of abusing her, he kicked her out of his house at only sixteen. She is now starving and slowly coming down with pneumonia in the freezing December weather. She asks herself: what did I do wrong? Whatever have I done? Then, two years after she was kicked out,someone comes to her rescue, the charming 20 year old Paul McCartney, who hadn't long started out as the Beatles bassist. He homes her and feeds her, and then falls in love with the little broken soul, and tries to fix her, and as he does so, she falls for him. Will they get together? Will Paul fix the shattered Darcy? Or will he break her more, if possible?

Bronwyn grows up together with her brother George Harrison and his friends Paul, John and Ringo. What happens when they all fall for her? Can she resist?

New school, new life, new school, new teacher, Mr. McCartney...

For requests I might only do them once every month because it might be hard to do so many of them.

Just some fluffy McLennon one shots. Requests are open, I might write smut but not sure depends on how well I'm doing tbh. It's public domain so do as you please. I'm Xavier btw (he/him) incase anyone was wondering.

What would happen if while the Beatles were on tour to America, they meet the monkees, and become friends? But soon after, an earthquake strikes and each monkee is left with one of each beatle?

little mix have been together forever. but when they go on tour with one direction. Things start to change. Perrie and zayn are always together and there is a romance between jade and Harry. Also, what happens when all if a sudden their bodies swap and they are no longer themselves? Read to find out ;)

You start highschool, after teasing in your old school you are ready to start out fresh. you ditch your glasses and wear makeup. You don't look like you use to. Then you meet a guy who discovers your real face. What will he say?

Turmoil hits the members of Weezer when one of their one is murdered... the culprit? One of the members of the band! Join Detective Pinkerton on his journey, nay, quest! To discover who truly is the murderer?

----------- Based on the song, "It's Only Love" By The Beatles. The story is told through memories, letters, flashbacks, and diary entries. December 1964 Liverpool, England _-_-_-_-_-_-_ Karma Vaughn arrived in Liverpool beneath a sky so gray it felt like dusk had swallowed the morning. The wind off the Mersey bit through her coat, a far cry from the sun-soaked hills of the Texan countryside she'd left behind. But she didn't mind the chill- it made her feel awake, alive, like something was finally happening. She came chasing a dream and carrying a name nobody knew yet. Her great-grandmother had once sailed from Liverpool to Galveston, leaving behind cobblestone streets and red-brick row houses for open plains and southern skies. Now, generations later, Karma had returned, driven not by heritage, but ambition. She wanted to write. To tell stories. And Liverpool, pulsing with music, youth, and something electric she couldn't quite name, felt like the perfect place to begin. Fresh out of Texas A&M, she'd spent the last year working odd jobs, scraping together the courage- and the funds- for this leap. Her professors had made good on their promises, sending glowing recommendations across the Atlantic. And just like that, The Liverpool Post had taken a chance on the American girl with a sharp wit and a sharper pen. What she didn't expect was how quickly her world would spin. Behind every byline, every interview, every smoky barroom conversation, loomed the faces shaping a generation. Some smiled easily. Some saw right through her. But one of them- cocky, maddening, brilliant- had the nerve to spark something inside her she wasn't ready for. She didn't particularly like John Lennon. And yet, somehow, she already knew this story was going to be about him. ----- These are real people in fake scenarios written by me. I obviously don't own The Beatles or any lyrics or anyone or anything mentioned. #1 in #Lennon 5/30/25 -----

Hospitals smell like bleach and baby powder. Everything's too clean, too quiet- except for the man down the hall who won't stop coughing. I hate it here. Hate the food, the itchy sheets, the way the nurses act like I can't hear them when they whisper. Then they wheel in a boy. He's pale and bony, with dark hair stuck to his forehead and blue eyes that stare out the window like he wants to jump through it. He doesn't talk. Doesn't look at anyone. Just climbs into the bed next to mine and disappears into his own little world. I ignore him at first. I don't have the energy for anyone else's problems. But after a few days, the quiet starts to feel louder than the coughing. So I talk. Just to fill the space. I tell him the dinner rolls taste like socks. That the nurse with the red lipstick hums when she's nervous. That I once stuck chewing gum in a bully's hair and blamed it on a ghost. He doesn't say a word. Just listens. Until one night, he says, "Millie's a funny name." I turn and shoot back, "Yours is Richy. Sounds like something you'd name a hamster." He smirks. I grin. After that, something clicks. We fold paper cranes out of tissues. He drums little beats on the bed rail while I hum along. He calls me bossy. I call him weird. We laugh too much for a hospital. One night, we sneak out of bed and sit by the hallway window. The stars look cold and far away. I make him pinky swear we'll be friends forever. He links his finger with mine and nods. "Alright." A few days later, my mum shows up with my coat in her arms and tears in her eyes. "You're better," she says. "Time to go home." I look at Richy. He's still tapping that rhythm on the rail. I wave. "I'll visit." He waves back. Doesn't say anything this time. And then I'm gone. Just like that. And kids... we make promises like chalk on the pavement. Soft. Quick. Easy to wash away. ----- I do not own anyone or anything mentioned.