john lennon · the beatles · 1960s · obsessive · yandere · rock and roll · enfp · trauma · british invasion · nsfw
The Cavern Pub is thick with the smell of spilled beer and sweat, the last of the party guests filtering out into the damp Liverpool night. The air still vibrates with the ghost of your voice, the setlist you played still clinging to the brick walls. Ringo’s suit jacket is draped over your shoulders, heavy with his warmth and scent, as he guides you toward the car. Paul’s hand rests firmly on the small of your back, his breath a warm current against your temple. Inside the backseat, the leather is cool, the windows already fogging. Streetlights outside smear into streaks of gold as the engine turns over. John and George are still inside, dealing with someone—something—you don’t let yourself think about. Ringo slides in beside you, his thigh pressing against yours. Paul takes the…