#paulmccartneyreaderinsert

[fleeting-queen-of-pepperland]

Nowhere Girl

Paul McCartney x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Warnings: None, I think!

Word Count: 3K

A/N: So...I was listening to She’s Leaving Home and then I kind of remembered the whole train bit of “A Hard Day’s Night” and I came up with this! Hope you like it! xoxo 

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The streets were nearly empty, covered in a thick fog that would remain there for the two hours left until sunrise. The air was mildly cold, and humid. The only moving thing was apparently the lone figure of a girl that hastily made her way down the street, attempting to reach the train station in a great hurry, constantly looking behind as if she expected someone to appear at any moment.

She walked in and walked over towards the counter, where the barely awake seller rested his head against the palm of his hand. 

“Good morning,” Y/n said politely, trying to rein herself and keep her voice from trembling. “One ticket, please,”

“Of course, darling,” the man replied with a kind smile. “where to?” 

“Where to?” she repeated the question, gazing upon the board that contained the arrivals and departures. The only fault in an otherwise flawless plan. The last thing in her mind was where she’d go if she succeeded. 

She needed it to be far away. However, the amount of money she had brought with her wasn’t quite enough for something as remote as she would’ve liked. Still, the feeling of proximity to the school made her stomach feel queasy. 

Y/n furrowed her eyebrows as another crazy scheme lit up in her brain. No crazier than the one she was partaking in at the moment, though. 

“Actually, I’ll think about it for a bit,” she replied, smiling at the man before her and walking away from the booth. The man’s sleepiness hadn’t gone unnoticed by her, and so she pretended to leave the station, just to hide around the corner and wait patiently for about ten minutes. 

Y/n covertly peeked around the corner and caught a glimpse of the ticket seller already asleep, his face seeming to melt over his hand as he rested his arm upon the counter. With a mischievous smile, the girl tiptoed her way past the ticket booth and onto the boarding platform. However small the station was, several trains stopped there either to refuel or as a quick connection on their way to their final destination, which was exactly what she needed. 

“Am I really going to do this?” she whispered to herself, a faint vapor coming out of her mouth as she exhaled deeply to give herself some courage. 

The sound of a train entering the station made her knees wobbly. 

“Alright, this is it. Now or never. Come on, Y/n, you’ve come too far to back out now.” 

As a matter of fact, she hadn’t objectively gone that far. It took her only twenty minutes to reach the station on foot, but as the doors opened before her and she took her first steps inside, mixing with the commuters that exited the train, in her mind, she’d well be boarding a ship to America. 

Quickly, Y/n slid inside one of the empty compartments and sat, smoothing her navy skirt in a nervous reflex. Oh, how she wished to sit by the window and gaze at the speeding landscape, but she had to be on the look for any approaching inspectors that could endanger her whole plan. 

As time passed, more people began filling the compartment. Fortunately, most of them were serious looking business people who were too busy reading the newspaper to mind her presence. Normally, she’d attempt to start a conversation, even if it was merely out of restlessness.  But she was too lost in her own thoughts for that. 

Even then, none of what was happening around her felt real. Two months back, Y/n was sitting in her dorm, perhaps reading one of the many photography magazines she secretly owned, and what she was doing now was nothing but a hopeful thought. 

She didn’t know what had finally pushed her to see it as a real possibility rather than the fantasy of a frustrated young girl, but one day she decided enough was enough, and if her parents refused to accept that being a housewife was not her ultimate goal in life, then she was left with no choice but to force them to acknowledge it by living her life on her own terms. 

A relieved smile bloomed on her lips, but it was short-lived as she heard a voice asking each passenger to hand in their ticket a couple of compartments ahead of hers. 

She immediately stood up and, attempting to look calm and collected, Y/n made her escape through the door and rushed down the hall, in the opposite direction of the voice and still unsure on where to go. 

Perhaps she could leave the train when it arrived at the next station?

No. That sounded too much like giving up, and she was fairly sure she hadn’t traveled far enough yet. She didn’t want to get cocky or underestimate the school’s authorities, nor her parents. She was, after all, an underage runaway.

As she turned around once more to make sure she wasn’t being followed, Y/n’s race was cut short when she collided with someone else. 

“Oh, sorry.” she promptly apologized. 

“It’s fine, are you alright?” a male voice replied. She looked up at him and nodded nonchalantly, the first thing about him that she noticed were his eyes, tawny and gentle, with large eyelashes. 

“Are you sure?” He spoke, just as gently and even sounding amused. “You look like you really are in a hurry and...well, I’m quite sure you can’t miss the train and we won’t get to the next station anytime soon.” 

Another set of steps approached them, the voice that accompanied them made Y/n instinctively look back before she tried to squirm around the untimely kind boy standing before her. 

“I’m alright. Excuse me, please.”

But he didn’t move. He pursed his lips thoughtfully and looked in the direction the voice came from before lowering his eyes back at her. It only took one moment for Y/n to realize he knew. However, he smiled mischievously and grabbed her hand before gesturing to the other side of the train. 

“Come on, follow me.”

Y/n didn’t think she had much of a choice. The space was limited, the time was running out and someone with such pretty eyes couldn’t possibly be that bad...right? 

Finally, both of them reached an empty cubicle. 

“Come on, get in.” he whispered and closed the door after her, casually leaning against it, discreetly blocking the view inside as the inspector finally appeared. 

“Ticket, please.” He requested. The boy nodded and took his ticket out. After checking it, the inspector moved as if to enter the compartment.

“Oh, there’s nobody else in there, mister.” he promptly said. “All of my friends went to get coffee a few moments ago, I’m just saving their seats. They must be in the next cart.”

“Is that so? Well, I better go check, then. Have a nice day.” 

The boy nodded his head to return his regards before walking back inside and smiling at the girl before him. 

“Well, that was easier than I thought it would.” 

“Thank you...” Y/n replied trailing off, realizing she didn’t know who she was thanking. “Sorry, I don’t think I got your name.” 

“I’m Paul. And don’t worry, it was nothing.”

“It was, believe me. I’m Y/n.” 

“Pleasure to meet you Y/n.” Paul responded, gifting her with a soft but nevertheless charming smile. 

Y/n just returned the gesture and leaned back on her seat, intertwining her fingers and resting her hands on her lap with a relieved sigh. Although she expected him to leave immediately after, Paul didn’t move. 

“If you don’t mind me asking, how does a girl like you end up traveling alone without a ticket?” 

Y/n hesitated. She wondered whether telling him the whole story was a good idea. A part of her was afraid he’d tell once the word of her escape came around, knowing very well they’d start looking for her the minute they realized she was missing. The sun was starting to slowly rise, meaning the classes would soon begin and since absences were uncommon and promptly looked into, it wouldn’t take long for them to begin the search. 

However, Y/n felt strangely compelled to come clean. He had already helped her no questions asked, and he kept looking at her with true interest and even a bit of concern. Besides, there was something familiar about his face that she couldn’t quite recognize, as if she had seen him before, however impossible that appeared.  Finally, she gave in. 

“I ran away.” she answered “I am -was- a student at Saint Catherine’s. It’s this all-girls Catholic boarding school nearby. My parents enrolled me about two years ago, but I couldn’t stand being there for one more minute.”

“Nuns don’t particularly stand out when it comes to having fun, do they?” he quipped with a lopsided grin. 

“It was madness! No music other than those awful chants, no books that didn’t belong to the syllabus, let alone magazines...no, that was not my place.”

“So you ran away,” he stated, an approving and even gingerly impressed gleam took over his eyes. Y/n pressed her lips together tightly and nodded. 

“So,” she continued, slowly regaining her cheerful disposition. “Business or pleasure?” 

“You could say both, I think.” Paul affirmed, straightening his back with a boyishly smug smirk. “Me and me friends are on our way to play on a television show,” 

“Oh, so you’re in a band?” Y/n replied in awe before pursing her lips and looking down at her hands bashfully “I’d ask if it’s anything I’ve heard, but I’m a little bit out of date on music.” 

“Didn’t you girls find ways to sneak things inside?” he inquired, that playful smile tugging at the edge of his lips again. 

“Of course we did! But they never lasted long. The number of snitches was surprisingly large, and I didn’t want to end up locked inside the chapel praying for forgiveness because of Little Richard.” 

“And how did you wound up there? I thought Saint Catherine’s was for...how do they call them?” he cleared his throat and faked the accent of a grumpy, old man, going as far as curving his lips down and frowning to get in character. “Immoral, misled, no-good hussies.”  

Y/n bursted out laughing at his silly interpretation, covering her mouth with the back of her hand and shaking her head. 

“Well,” she breathed out after her laughter slowly died down. “Wait, so you have heard of Saint Catherine’s?” 

“Sort of. My friend John used to go out with a girl back home. It started to get quite serious until he found out she had her fair share of lads sneaking in and out of her bedroom window. Last thing we knew of her, she was sent to Saint Catherine’s. I can’t remember her name, I just remember she was missing a chunk of her tooth, right here.” Paul pointed to the edge of his front tooth, and Y/n gasped, amused. 

“Oh my god, that’s Chippy Charlie!” 

This time it was Paul who couldn’t help but laugh at the nickname. With that specific detail, there was no way it could’ve been anybody else. He tried to stop snickering, but couldn’t as Y/n continued. 

“She is still the worst! She is the Patron Saint of Snitches of Saint Catherine’s, I swear, it’s like she gets paid for it! I was tempted to pull a prank on her as my parting gift, but she wasn’t worth the unnecessary risk. But, you know, whether a girl is or not a misguided hussy depends a lot on whom you ask. My one-way ticket was telling my parents I only intended to get married after I made it as a photographer, because I’d hate to marry some twat who believes I depend on him for anything at all. And they lost their plot.” 

Paul remained silent, obviously pondering what she had just said as the girl before him intrigued him more and more. When he opened his mouth to reply, a new choir of voices was heard approaching them.

“...know where the bloody hell did he go? I thought I told you to stay together!” 

“Come on, Eppy, aren’t you making a fuss over this? It’s not like Paul could get lost on the train.” A second voice replied with a trace of mockery. 

“And even if he did, I don’t understand why we had to come with you to look for him,” a third voice complained, to which the first one snapped. 

“Because I now know that I can’t leave any of you alone or you’ll just do as you please!” 

“Don’t we do that even when we’re not alone?” 

Paul cursed under his breath and looked over at Y/n.

“Alright, ready to return the favor?” She looked at him questioningly and shook her head, unsure of what he meant. So, he hurried to explain. 

“Just tell them there’s nobody in here but you, alright?” 

Without giving her further explanations, Paul looked around and finally found a spot right next to the door where he could hide, the door itself preventing whoever came in from spotting him. Y/n quickly turned to the window and took the most natural and aloof pose she could think of, until she heard the door being opened and the first voice, which belonged to a suit-clad man in his thirties  with small, worried eyes, addressed her. 

“Sorry to disturb you Miss, but have you seen a young man walking by this cart?” 

“No, I don’t think I have, I’m sorry.” Y/n replied with a soft shrug and an apologetic grin, to which the man nodded understandingly and retreated a bit. 

“Wait, Brian, wouldn’t it be a better idea for us to wait for you in this cart while you look for Paul? After all, we’d hate to slow you down.” the second boy trailing behind him said, smiling flirtatiously at Y/n. However, Brian was having none of it. 

“Of course you’d like that, wouldn't you, John? Come on, let’s go.” 

despite the evident disappointment on his face, John begrudgingly followed until the four men disappeared through the door that led to the following cart.

“Alright, the coast is clear.” Y/n said as Paul left his hiding place and returned to his seat, this time choosing the one next to her. 

“Thanks.” he said, “They’re great but sometimes I need a break from them, you know?” 

“Who were they? Was that the John you mentioned earlier?” Y/n inquired. 

“That’s him. The whole band, really. And Brian, our manager.” 

They remained in silence for a moment, both of them looking out of the window thoughtfully until the first buildings began appearing, silently announcing the end of the train’s journey as it began approaching the city. Y/n felt her stomach flip at the prospect of being alone in such a big place, surrounded by thousands of strangers and having essentially nowhere to go. She hadn't doubted her plan as much as she did right then. 

“So...for how long will you be staying here?” she asked, absentmindedly tapping her fingertips against the cold glass. 

“I don’t know. Perhaps two or three days. We’re on tour so I don’t think we’ll be here for long. What about you?” 

“I don’t know,” she finally replied with a long sigh. “I brought some photographs I took with a smuggled camera with me. It’s the closest thing to a portfolio I’ve got.” 

Shortly after it entered the station, the engine came to a sudden halt. Both of them stood up and made their way out into the hall until they finally reached a door and left the train. 

“Well...it was nice meeting you, Paul.” Y/n said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and looking around with a tense smile, attempting to hide how overwhelming the city truly was to her. 

“Good luck, Y/n.” he replied, returning her smile, with an almost imperceptible glint of sadness in his eyes. She made her way around him and began walking away. However, she hadn’t given ten steps when someone lightly tapped her shoulder. She turned around to find Paul standing before her with a sheepish smile. 

“Hi,” he said, uneasily rubbing the back of his head. “Listen, I was thinking...I might know a couple of people who could help you out. You know, with the photography thing and all that.”

He took a scrap of paper out of his pocket and handed it over to her. The name of a hotel and a room number was scribbled on it. 

“Just call me when you’ve found a place to stay, tell me the address and I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning so you can meet them. If that’s alright with you, I mean.” 

“Really?” Y/n asked, looking at him with wide eyes. He nodded with a soft smile and shrugged dismissively. However, she couldn’t help but tackle him in a hug, throwing her arms around his neck and quickly pecking his cheek when she pulled away. 

“Thank you so much.”

“It’s nothing,” he assured, clearing his throat and scratching the bridge of his nose nonchalantly in an attempt to hide the blush that crept onto his cheeks. “Just...call me, alright?” 

“I will. Until then, see you.” Y/n said with a huge smile across her cheek, hugging him one last time for just one second before pulling away and turning around as fast as she could to keep him from noticing she was equally flustered from the whole ordeal. 

When she was a little bit far, Y/n turned around and waved at him before the crowd engulfed her. 

Somehow, the city didn’t look as big and scary as it did just minutes before. There was just one thing picking on her brain: she was certain she had seen Paul somewhere before. But where? There was no way she could’ve seen him whilst being inside Saint Catherine’s. The only males in there were the boys from the magazines the other girls smuggled in. 

Unless…

Y/n stopped in her tracks and furrowed her eyebrows. Yet, no memory came immediately to her mind, and as the woman behind her loudly cleared her throat to urge her to keep walking, she decided to put it to bed. She’d remember eventually. 

Back at the platform, Paul was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard his name being called from behind. He turned around to find his three bandmates rushing towards him. The shortest one approached him and placed a hand on his back, shoving him forward. 

“Paul, what are you doing here in the open? There’s a crowd coming this way and they’ll skin us alive if we don’t hurry. Bri is waiting for us with a car, come on.”

John looked in the same direction Paul had been gazing at and smirked.

“Alright, who was that?” 

“What? Who? Nobody. Let’s go, we don’t want to keep good old Eppy waiting.”

“Oh, no, we’re not going anywhere until you tell me, so you better hurry.” 

“Just a girl I met on the train. She wants to be a photographer and I told her I’d introduce her to someone who might be able to help her.” 

“Can we talk about this in the car?” Ringo asked again urgently. 

“But Paul, dear, you don’t know any photographers.” John retorted, ignoring Ringo and smirking mockingly. Paul smirked back, feeling more confident and shrugged as he began walking away.  

“Well, Brian must know someone. I’ll just ask him.” 

“And since when did you become Sir Paul McCartney, defender of the helpless?” 

He insisted, following his friend no matter how much he tried to quicken his pace. Paul didn’t reply, and an even wider smile began taking over the other boy’s features. 

“Oh, I see. You fancy her, don’t you?”

“Come off it! I barely know her, we just met.” Paul argued, mentally cursing how easily he was blushing at his bandmate’s words, knowing very well he wouldn’t just let it pass. 

“Alright, alright, but if you do meet her again, say you introduce her to us, your dearest friends, would you mind if I took her out for coffee?” 

As he was just saying this to playfully mess with his friend, John was extremely entertained by Paul’s expression when he turned to look at him. 

“Oh, piss off Lennon.” he muttered before running off to the back of the station to meet Brian. 

“Aye, aye, cap’n!” John exclaimed, laughing loudly before rushing after his friend, the four figures once again making their way across the platform to avoid the inevitable crowd of maniacs that was probably waiting for them at the main exit.