Do You Want To Know A Secret (Teen!George Harrison X Teen!Lennon!Reader)

Do You Want To Know A Secret (Teen!George Harrison x Teen!Lennon!Reader)

A/N: Hello, Happy Easter! I'm posting another oneshot, because why not? I feel like it could have been a little better than what I wrote, but I was in a bit of a rush to get it out. Who doesn't love some George?

Summary: It's 1961. You're John's sister and he refuses to let you talk to anyone in his band (and vice versa) despite your house being their practice location. George scores some alone time with you one day, and sings you a little song he composed for you.

WARNINGS: SUGGESTIVE BEHAVIOUR; the reader is pretty confident in this oneshot. Mentions of sex, but nothing further than a heated make out session/ neck kissing really occurs in this. Swearing, probably, but I could be wrong. George starts out shy but he is not by the end. There are probably some typos as well oops.

This one is T rated, but just read at your own risk because as mentioned, sex is discussed

Do You Want To Know A Secret (Teen!George Harrison X Teen!Lennon!Reader)

It was 1961, a relatively warm Friday evening after dinner, where an eighteen year old George Harrison was accompanied by a nineteen year-old Paul McCartney, on the way to the Lennon household.

Band practice was that night, the newly renamed "Beatles" preparing for their next gig at the Cavern Club just that following evening. George had his guitar case in hand, and Paul, his bass, as they walked and talked.

John's house could be spotted from where the two were now, and George, who was talking in that moment, lost train of thought when he spotted someone just outside the front door.

That someone was you. John's little sister. Aged eighteen; like George.

George could feel his heart fluttering as he watched you move around the front garden, watering can in hand as you tended to the little flowers in the window planters.

"Don't stare," Paul lightly chided in a sing-song tone, wagging his finger at George when he came back down to earth, cheeks flush at the idea of having been caught looking.

"But look at her," George groaned, hand gesturing towards you haphazardly before dropping it down helplessly at his side. "Just look at how perfect--"

"And off limits," Paul added quickly.

"... she is," George sighed as he finished his sentence, a rather upsetting frown on his face. The boys had since halted walking, making sure to be far enough away that you weren't in earshot of their conversation.

"Look, Harry," Paul rested a hand on the younger boy's shoulder in comfort. "I know how you feel. I'd be lying if I said I didn't think she was a looker, y'know?"

Paul and George glanced over at you for a moment, before he continued.

"... but if I had a sister, and three lads who couldn't keep their eyes off her, I couldn't say I wouldn't be doing what Lenny's doing right now."

George knew that Paul was right. As much as he hated it, John loved you very much, and was cautious of any guy trying to be near you, especially now that you were a young adult, and not some child.

Every time the band gathered at John's house, everyone seemed to be under a microscope-- including you. The boys weren't allowed to talk to you, and you couldn't even look at anyone without your brother hollering at you to get upstairs, or to refocus back to your homework, or whatever task you had at hand.

But in moments like this, where the protective older brother wasn't around, George took every chance he could to greet you with a smile on his face.

And he wasn't going to stop now.

"I get it, mate. I just... there's something about her." That's the simplest George could have explained it to Paul. He wasn't about to disclose that he dreamt of you almost every night, or that he relished in the moments of excitement and anxiety of being able to see you, if only for five seconds out of his entire week.

And he certainly would not have told him about the songs he was composing; his muse being you, of course.

It was all just one giant secret, and as much as George wanted to tell you, all he thought of were downsides in result of revealing such a thing to you.

George thought that you, for starters, were leaps and bounds out of his league, he was scared of being laughed at, and he would have been absolutely horrified if John were to ever find out.

The negatives drastically outweighed the positives, so he was better to keep his mouth shut.

George and Paul continued their trek to the building, and when they finally made it to the walkway leading to the door, you turned your head, smiling gently and waving to them once you realized who it was.

"Good afternoon, lads," you greeted politely, and George nearly melted at the sound of your voice.

"Hello, Miss Lennon," the boys responded in unison. George cringed a little at that, pushing through the door with Paul following close behind. As much as he wanted to stick around, he knew it would have been too risky.

And thank God he made made that choice. John was waiting for them in the main foyer, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. He didn't seem too happy, but he wasn't quite pissed off, either; almost as if he were in limbo of the two.

"'Bout time yous showed up. Me n' Pete've been waiting forever. C'mon, now." John waved his hand as he headed for the basement stairs, and the boys wordlessly continued on so they could begin their practice. George only looked over his shoulder once before descending the steps, hoping to have caught just one more glimpse of you, but to no avail.

"We have a show tomorrow, and you boys decided to be a quarter of an hour late!" John complained on as he threw his guitar strap over his shoulder. Pete was in the corner of the room on his drum set just shaking his head as he grabbed his drumsticks and tapped a little on his instrument. he must have been there for a while already.

Paul and George hurriedly grabbed out their instruments, apologizing so the older boy's complaints would cease. "As long as you're ready to play now, I don't care."

John always got sort of tense when the other three boys were over, hyper-focussed on keeping you away from them and vice versa. He was more or less worried about Paul trying to flirt with you, so a lot of John's poor behaviour stemmed from that.

Little did he know that it was actually George who'd fallen head over heels for you.

But that wasn't something to worry about in that moment. What was important was that practice began, and that they had to see improvement before their show just that following night.

Practice was going well. They had been at it for nearly an hour at that point, and the more they worked, the more pleased each boy was with the sound. They took a brief pause for some water, and John was rifling through his pile of lyrics sitting on a table in the corner of the room, trying to decide which one to practice next.

As George finished the last drop of water in his glass, John piped up, "I don't have all my songs here. Must've left them in my room."

"Which ones?" George asked, empty glass still in-hand. "I'm running up for a refill, might as well grab that for you as well."

"I think I left them on my desk at the side. You sure you don't want me running up?"

George swatted his hand as he started for the stairs. "Don't worry 'bout it. Be back in a jiff."

George hopped up the stairs, leaving his glass on the kitchen counter next to the sink before moving down the main foyer. He paused at the front door to peek out the window to see if you were still outside, but he didn't see you from where he was standing. He sighed gently before turning and making his way up to the second floor.

George made his way down to John's room at the end of the hallway. It was the only room with the door open, and before he even made it into the room, he could see the pile of lyrics on the desk, right where John said they'd be.

He picked up the pile, shuffling through them and counting the pages as he did so. He took one more brief glance around the room to make sure he wasn't missing anything else. When he decided this was all he needed, he turned on his heel and headed out to the hallway.

George was just about to make it to the stairs when he felt someone take hold of his arm, and swiftly tug him into one of the other rooms. The moment was a blur for him, and it took him a second to piece together what happened. He was standing in the middle of the room-- your room.

And you were only three feet away from him, back against the door, and cheeks glowing pink.

"Hello," you smiled gently, and George had no clue what to say, pages clutched tightly against his chest as his brain swirled with millions of thoughts.

"Hi," he squeaked, face burning in humiliation at his flustered state, but he was in your room, for Christ's sake. Your room! He had no clue what to say to you, mouth hanging open as he tried to search his brain for some other words.

"Look, I know we're not supposed to be doing this," you expressed, and George could feel his heart doing violent flips in his chest, especially when you pushed yourself off the door to take a step or two closer to him. This was the longest conversation he had with you, to date.

"Johnny would kill me if he knew I had a boy in my room, you know," you took a moment to pause, and all George could do was nod his head in agreement, intoxicated by the way you walked, and the way you talked. There was a hint of something in your voice... but the boy couldn't quite place what it was. Yearning? That couldn't be right... could it?

"But where's the fun in that, huh?" You asked, hands clasped behind your back, eyes staring right back into his, and George couldn't help but break his gaze first, utterly intimidated by your confidence. His eyes fixated to the dress you were wearing, and he could see a playful smile dancing on your lips in his peripheral.

"... You like what you see, Georgie?" You asked lowly after a moment, and his stare shot back up to your face again, certain his legs were numb. The nickname rolled off your tongue so effortlessly, so perfectly. The things it was doing to him...

"I..." he could barely speak, breaths ragged. Not one coherent thought was at the forefront of his brain, other than one simple word.

"Pretty." Your smile was a little more genuine now after he said that, and you reached a hand up to tuck a little strand of hair behind your ear.

"You think I'm pretty?"

George just nodded again. It was only now that he realized how much shorter you were compared to him, as you were only a foot away from him; the closest you'd ever been. He was looking down at you, but you were, in no way, intimidated by him. It was actually quite the opposite.

"You know, Georgie, you're pretty handsome, yourself," you professed, smiling wider as George's face burned even hotter.

He couldn't even thank you, scared of what would have happened if he tried to utter any kind of response to you. You reached out to rest a hand on his arm, and your smile faltered just a little.

"You're really tense... am I making you uncomfortable?" George's eyes widened, swallowing nervously as he shook his head 'no' as quickly as he could. He didn't want-- whatever this was-- to stop. The sincere upturn of your lips returned, and George couldn't help but flit his gaze down to your lips.

If only he had as much confidence as you, he might have just dipped down to have a taste...

"Look, I don't wanna keep you any longer. I know Johnny's gonna be looking for you soon." You thought for a moment before mentioning, "usually after you boys leave, he's down there for another hour or so practicing his own songs. Come back and see me after, yeah? Get to know each other a little more?" You raised an eyebrow expectantly, and George nodded his head again.

"Okay," he managed to whisper, resulting in you rising to your toes, and wordlessly pecking him on the cheek.

He felt like he was dreaming.

"Run along now, before they get suspicious!"

George's feet, though seemingly glued to the floor moments before, took off quickly, opening the door, and disappearing out into the hallway, shutting it closed behind him. As soon as he was on his own, he sighed heavily, the rush of oxygen in his lungs making him feel light-headed.

For someone who seemed so innocent in the open, around others, George could never have guessed how much of a minx you were behind closed doors. One part of him was still in denial that his interaction with you was even real, let alone meant to be flirtatious in any way...

But man, he would have been stupid not to take you up on your offer. It was just another hour he had to spend practicing, and he'd be right back in there, hopefully earning another kiss on the cheek from you.

George looked at the lyric papers in his hands one last time before sighing one more time, and going back downstairs. He passed his forgotten water glass in the kitchen, mind on an entirely different planet.

He returned to the basement, handing John the papers. He thanked the younger boy, pausing for a second to watch him move to grab his guitar.

"Where's your glass, Harry?"

George tensed when John asked that, hand on the neck of the guitar.

"... Left it upstairs,"  he responded.

"Thought you were grabbing a refill?" John's inquiries had George grasping for what to say next, but he was quick enough.

"Refilled the glass up there, drank it, and figured I'd be fine for the rest of practice."

His confession, though a lie, was believable enough for John, who just nodded his head slowly and drew his attention to the papers after a second, discussing which song they were going to practice next.

George just flew under the radar then, and he mentally cursed himself for being so careless. He look a quick glance at Paul, who was giving him a look; almost as if he knew something happened up there.

But he would never know the truth.

The shared glance fell apart when John advised everyone to get into position for playing, and they did just that.

The hour seemed to drag, George felt; but as time moved on, the more anxious he began to feel again. By the time everyone was packing up to leave, he was almost vibrating with anxiety.

He wanted to be close to you again so badly, but he didn't want to make a fool of himself as he had in the last interaction.

Pete, Paul, and George wished John a good night, and climbed the stairs to the main floor in that order, leaving John alone to continue practicing. Pete left Paul and George in the main hallway with a little wave, and a short "see yous tomorrow," before taking off out the front door.

Paul grabbed the door handle next and turned back to George, who stood in one spot a little too far away from the door.

"... Not walking home with me?" He asked in confusion, and when George didn't have a disposable answer, the pieces seemed to be finally clicking for the other boy.

He opened his mouth as if to lecture George on how bad of an idea sticking around would be, but instead, he tightened his jaw, shook his head, and waved to him.

"G'night Harry," he tossed a little wave out before taking off into the dusk.

He was alone now.

That could only mean one thing.

George eyed the stairs, knowing that if he turned on his heel and walked out right then, it'd be one of the biggest mistakes in his life. But he couldn't deny the fact that he was nervous; intimidated by you, and your assertive, rather sexy behaviour from earlier.

He took a deep breath, grabbing the railing, and hiking up the stairs slowly.

He stood outside your bedroom door much longer than he would have liked to admit, taking deep breaths and reciting words over and over again in his brain, as if this whole interaction were scripted-- as if he knew what was going to happen.

When he finally composed himself properly, he rapped on the door gently, hoping you would hear his presence on the other side. When you finally came around to open the door, his heart skipped a beat.

"I was beginning to think you weren't coming back," you voiced softly, leaning against the doorframe, handle still in hand. You sounded a little relieved, almost, seeing the boy on the other side of the threshold.

You were in your pyjamas, a set that showed enough skin on your arms and legs that it made George, red-faced, shake his head to reactivate his brain, which pretty much short circuited.

"You goin' to bed?" His words left his mouth faster than he realized he was even saying them. Sure, it was getting late out, but would you have really changed if you were expecting company?

"Well, that depends. Will you be joining me?" You were so quick on your feet in response that it honestly impressed George, the heat returning to his face as he tried to think of what to say next, not daring to drop his line of sight below your chin.

"I'm only teasing you," you laughed after a moment of watching George squirm, pushing off the doorframe and allowing him to enter your bedroom again. As he passed you, he caught sight of you gazing up his body, shrugging and adding a little "... maybe," to the end of your sentence.

You were such a tease, and George set his guitar case off to the side, facing away from you, so he could hide just how giddy and flushed he was just being in there with you again. He rose to his feet and turned to face you. You were only a few feet away from him again, eyes on him intensely, smile still present.

"... I hope you know just how glad I am that you came back," you expressed again, honestly. George raised an eyebrow at that, shoving his hands in his pockets. He wanted to tear his gaze from yours so badly, but your face was just so gorgeous to look at, and he didn't want to be caught looking at your outfit again; he knew some more teasing would surely ensue if he was caught staring.

"Why wouldn't I come back?" George replied bashfully, shrugging his shoulders a little. "Wouldn't miss a chance to be here, with you, for the world."

Your stare softened at his words, beaming as your own cheeks flushed a pretty shade of pink. George wasn't sure you were really expecting something like that coming from him. "... You really mean that?"

George desperately wanted to elaborate a little further, but he just settled on giving you a little nod, smiling back shyly at your question.

"Maybe I thought I might've scared you off for being so forward earlier," you admitted timidly as you turned on your heel. You took a seat at the edge of your bed, and George surveyed your movements, eyebrows lifting a little when you reached out to pat the empty space next to you on the mattress after a moment.

"Care to take a seat?"

George accepted the invitation, and you felt the bed dip when he sat down. His eyes cast down to the floor, face still red at the idea of being in your presence; having your attention.

"You know, Georgie... my brother can be pretty stupid sometimes. But making this house the place for band practice, I think, was one of the best decisions he's ever made."

His eyes met yours again at your words, and you shrugged one of your shoulders.

"I'd be lying if I said I haven't been dying to talk to you. Or get to know you. You seem so kind, and you're so attractive, and John wants to keep you away from me, and I'm so sick of him deciding what's best for me."

Your eyes cast down between the both of you for a moment, and George could feel his heart trying to leap out of his chest. His fingertips felt numb, mouth hanging slack as you continued your profession.

"I knew the only way to get close and alone with you was to bring you in here. And I saw the way you were looking at me earlier, and I had to get you to come back."

It felt like the wind was knocked out of his lungs. Was he really that obvious when he was in here last?

"It's thrilling... having a boy like you in my room, while John's clueless out there as to what we're doing. What we could be doing..."

George's mind was going places he was never expecting it to that evening, especially with the help of you voicing it aloud. He was in utter disbelief of what you were telling him, convinced he'd fallen asleep throughout the day, and he was caught in some blissful dream he wished would never end.

"I feel a little selfish, springing so much information on you at once... but every time I see you, I desperately want to be with you; and today, I had to jump to take that chance. I couldn't wait another week, another day."

You smiled sheepishly, not really expecting George to say anything after that. You were honestly just trying to get your thoughts off your chest, and now that you had, you felt a lot better. You were also pleased with the little look of shock on George's face. You liked doing that to him.

You decided to break his trance by nodding over to his guitar case sitting on the floor. "So... You have plans to serenade me, Georgie?"

Your question definitely brought him back down to earth, and he took a quick glance at the case before looking back to you. Your confession was still ringing clear in his head like a bell. He felt he didn't have the words to admit his feelings as clearly as you had right on the spot...

He did, however, have the words pre-planned as lyrics, in a multitude of original songs he wrote for you.

"... I do, actually," he agreed, standing up to open his case and retrieve his instrument. George was feeling a little more excited now, knowing any girl these days would swoon at the idea of having music written for them, and he just hoped you would too.

He returned to the bed, deciding against tossing the strap over his shoulder. He faced you so you could hear and see every little thing he did. He was at least glad he didn't get performance anxiety on the guitar.

He gently strummed out a few different notes, deciding in his head which song he wanted to perform for you. One in particular stuck out in his mind, and he couldn't deny that it was the perfect choice.

He was a little worried about how you'd feel about his playing, and the lyrics, but he wanted to show you that he could be confident about this, especially since he was nearly certain now that his feelings were reciprocated. But he had to play it cool.

"It is a work in progress. I've only half of it written, but I really think you'll like it," George explained to you before allowing the notes to fill the air around you both.

"Listen,

Do you want to know a secret?

Do you promise not to tell?

Closer,

Let me whisper in your ear,

Say the words you long to hear,

I'm in love with you."

It was only then that you realized this was the first time you'd ever seen, or heard George play. This beautiful genius was being hidden away from you this whole time, and it was a blessing to see his work up close.

His left hand slid along the fretboard so easily, thumb and fingers on his right tickling the strings as if it were second nature to him. You couldn't decide which hand you wanted to look at. His digits were skillful on the instrument, and George made sure to almost exaggerate his movements to impress you.

He pretty much had you in a trance, now, daydreaming about what else those hands could do...

"I've known a secret for a week, or two,

Nobody knows, just we two,"

George had been worried the whole song about messing up the notes, eyes so focused on where his fingers were going... But he glanced up at you, realizing how hypnotized you were, like putty in his hands, and he decided there was nothing to worry about.

He decided to sing right to you now, soft eyes on your face, and when your field of view locked with his, he knew he wouldn't dare break the stare.

"Listen,"

This wasn't a song anymore.

"Do you want to know a secret?"

This was his confession.

"Do you promise not to tell?"

His way of showing you what you really meant to him.

"Closer,"

He wasn't clouded by any insecurities or doubt anymore.

"Let me whisper in your ear,"

Your gaze flitted down just enough to watch George's canines poke out from behind his lips as he sung, and your eyelashes lowered at the sight of his beautiful mouth.

"Say the words you long to hear,"

Your mind was absorbing the lyrics like a sponge in water, every single word eliciting a feeling so strong in your heart, you could hear it pumping in your ears.

"I'm in love with you."

George hummed away as he played the final notes, a little smile still on his lips when he let the last chord ring out into a room of silence.

When that stillness remained for a moment, George couldn't help but ask with a little bit of hesitation, "Well... what do you thi--"

He couldn't even get the rest of his question out before you darted at him, lips smashing into his as if he were about to disappear forever.

He let out a little surprised hum before he pulled the guitar out from between the both of you, and you took it as an opportunity to push your body closer to him, arms wrapping around his collarbone.

He blindly set the guitar down to lean it against your bed, and when he let go of the neck of the instrument, his hands went for your hips, squeezing your sides gently before pulling you right up into his lap. your actions bloomed a type of self-assurance within him he had no idea he could even possess.

It was your turn to squeal excitedly, but George's lips on yours muffled the sound. One of his hands snaked around to the small of your back before it slipped under your shirt, his palm dragging up your spine. His fingertips took note of each vertebrae it dipped up and down into, like the frets on his guitar.

This, George decided, was better than a dream. This whole situation unfolding around him made him feel as though he died and went to heaven.

He pulled his lips away from yours, free hand reaching up to grip your chin and directing you to tilt your head up. His lips suckled on the side of your neck, and the sound coming from your mouth was absolutely euphoric to him. But he removed his palm from your chin to cover your mouth, his other hand still feeling and memorizing every curve and dip in your back.

"You must be quiet, Love. Wouldn't want your brother knowing about all this fun we're having up here, eh?" Your eyes rolled back at his words, groaning into his hand as you felt George drag his teeth gently along the column of your throat.

Knowing you were enjoying this as much as he was only brought more confidence to his actions, and he let his tongue poke out to leave a large, wet kiss on your collarbone.

You were squirming in his lap, fingers sliding up into his hair and tugging so he knew he was doing everything right.

He groaned at the friction you were creating at the hips, and he pulled away from your neck to kiss your lips again after removing his hand and placing it on the back of your neck.

You swallowed his moans as you continued to grind in his lap, but both of your movements paused when you heard the guitar come crashing down to the carpeted floor. It wasn't as loud as it could have been, but it was loud enough.

You both kept an ear out, knowing that might have caught the attention of someone downstairs, and when you began to hear footsteps shuffling around, you began to panic a little, eyes wide and darting back to George, whose face was flushed from the assault of your kisses, and hair was a tangled mess from your fingers.

"You gotta hide," you rushed out quietly, and though you tried to climb out of George's lap, his hands kept you planted right where you were.

"What are you doing?!"

"... What if I didn't?" He challenged you a little, a daring smirk at his lips.

"Had you not been so naughty, with all that moving and teasing, the guitar wouldn't have fallen, eh? And we wouldn't be in this situation at all." The points of his canines were showing again, and you groaned at his words.

"George, I'd love to continue this, but John will kill you if we're caught, and we can't do this if you're dead!"

"Well then we just won't get caught," he responded simply. He was blinded by desire, his confidence seeping out of him like sap from a tree as he placed his mouth back on your neck.

The footsteps stopped outside your door, and you both heard a knock, George not showing any sign of stopping his actions.

"Don't come in, I'm-- I'm not wearing any clothes!!" It was the first thing you could blurt out to whoever was on the other side.

"Oh, baby, that'd be a sight to see," George mumbled against your skin, pulling your top down just enough so he could suck a dark spot just above your left breast so you could easily hide it away, and you sighed heavily at the contact, face burning red.

"Just heard a loud thud. Just making sure all is okay," it was John on the other side; completely oblivious to the actual scene occurring on the other side of the door.

"Yeah, a book from my shelf was knocked over! N-nothing to worry about!"

George grabbed your chin again when you were finished talking, shoving his tongue right into your mouth as you both heard John respond with, "oh, okay. Just making sure you're alright. Have a good night."

You listened closely as the footsteps quieted, and when there was no sign of anyone else on the second floor, let alone at the door, you pulled away from George's kiss.

"Well... how was that?"

"Risky," you replied, a rather unimpressed look on your face as you unraveled your arms from George's shoulders and crossed them over your chest.

"Well, you don't have to worry about him anymore, Love," he tried to give you another kiss, but you placed your fingers against his lips. It was your turn to smirk mischievously.

"You know what, Georgie... I think you've had enough action for tonight."

You could see the smug grin fall right off George's face as you removed your hand. Surely you had to have been joking. But when you pushed a little to get off him, his arms fell to his side, a little pout on his face.

"You're serious? Love, you got me all hot and bothered..."

"George, you really thought we were going to go all the way tonight with other people in the house?" You laughed out loud at that; and when you said it like that, he would have had to agree that it did sound ridiculous.

"Trust me, Georgie, I want to," you placed a hand on his cheek in comfort, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to his forehead, and he looked up at you as if he was the shy boy you interacted with just an hour before.

"But we both know doing that in an empty house would be far better than having to keep quiet about it, huh?"

All George could do was imagine that situation, eyes drifting shut, and tilting his head into your caressing hand.

"You're such a damn tease," he mumbled, eyes blinking back open after a moment.

"All good things come to those who wait," was all you said, leaving one, sweet kiss on his lips before pulling away, and nodding to his guitar. "We better pack you up and send you home."

You watched as George situated himself, placing his guitar back in the case, closing it and picking it up. You wrapped your arms around him gently, planting another kiss on his cheek.

"By the way... I think that song was beautiful," you whispered to him, and when you pulled away to see him smiling at you, you couldn't help but match the grin on your own lips.

"See you next week? Same time?"

"You don't even have to tell me twice," George responded with, and you just had to lean in for one more smooch on the lips, to which he eagerly reciprocated.

He then opened your window up, and took a step out. You watched as he climbed down the corner of the house slowly, and before he took off down the road, he blew you a kiss, to which you mimicked catching with your hand.

As George headed home, the sun now fallen over the horizon, those intimate moments he shared with you were at the very forefront of his mind. His hands could still feel your bare skin under his fingertips, and his mouth tingled as he remembered what it was like to have your lips on his.

He was just craving for the next moment he had alone with you.

______________________________________

A/A/N: And there we are! hope you all enjoy this, and I hope your Easter weekend was full of sun, and fun! Please let me know if you want to read more so I know it' worth it to post!

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Summary: Your friend, John, invites you to the first Fair of the year with the intentions of evolving some spontaneous behaviour within you. You find just the thing there to prove to John just how daring and fun you could be-- and then things go sideways.

WARNINGS: This has been sitting in my notes FOREVER so I wouldn't be surprised if there were typos.

Also, there is a heteronormative behaviour in this fic because of the time it was set in, but I want to disclaim that LOVE IS LOVE and I, in no way, support heteronormative/ anti LGBTQ+ behaviour. Love who you want to love; just be happy doing so<3

Also Also, she is a LONG one like the other oneshot, so I advise you read this when you've got some time on your hands!

Swearing is almost a certainty at this point, but no really mature themes, so a T rating is probably enough for this one.

Baby It's You (Teen!John Lennon X Teen!Female!Reader)

It was a hot Friday afternoon, at the very end of the school year; and there were hundreds of telltale signs:

The teacher was well over his curriculum and he sat at his desk reading a book in silence, student-made work was no longer strewn about on the walls, the classroom was humid even with everyone fanning themselves and each other; and the students...

You could tell the students were just dying to get home for the summer.

There were five minutes left on the clock, and you sat at your desk packing your things away. You spent the last hour doodling, but you wanted to be ready to take off as soon as the bell sounded.

As you zipped your bag up, you saw a little flash of white in your peripheral, and when you glanced back at the surface of your desk, you noticed a folded piece of paper-- a note!

You looked around briefly, but no one indicated to you where to pass it, so it had to have been for you.

And if the note was for you, then there was only one person it could have been from.

You unraveled the little piece of paper, revealing the question the paper possessed.

"Fair? Tonight? -yours truly"

That evening in particular, the local fair was going to erect itself in the biggest park in town, and everyone at school was going to be there. What better way to blow off steam at the end of a long year of hard work?

You shook your head at his pathetic complimentary close, your eyes rolling to the back of your head so far they almost didn't come back.

The bell rang, and before you could even consider doing anything else with the note, everyone took off out the door, as did you, knowing fully well "yours truly" was going to be waiting for you at your locker.

As you rounded the corner to the hallway your locker was in, you finally caught glimpse of him. He was leaning against it with his arms crossed, one leg over the other as his eyes wandered the other students for your face; and when your eyes locked, his expressionless mouth couldn't help but tighten upwards.

Perhaps his smile was out of kindness, but it was most likely because he was a jokester, and quite frankly couldn't get enough of teasing you.

And now his target was spotted.

He opened his mouth to speak, but you spoke first. "You know how much I hate how you sign these off, right?"

You presented the note in hand adjacent to your head as your face displayed a disapproving cringe, cheeks pink in mild humiliation.

"John, I only ever get notes written from you, so the flowery signoff is unnecessary," you put the note down, pointing at him with a frown.

"That note-passing was so open! You know if the teacher ever caught something like that, he'd make me read it out loud to the class, surely you know I'd die on the spot, and then my ghost will haunt you until you died too!"

His smile only grew wider at your words, almost as if he'd been betting with himself what your response to all of this was going to be.

"Also, you're not even in my last class," you rambled on, "so how you managed to have it smuggled in beats me."

"Oh, come on, y/n, you know you'd love all the attention you'd get out of something like that," he gestured to the paper, and you shook your head before crumpling it into a ball in your hand and tossing it at his head, to which it bounced off, and then was immediately trampled on as other students hurried down the hallway.

The both of you weren't strangers; you frequented playdates with John as children, and then you went to school together, so you basically watched each other grow up. John, for as long as you'd known him, usually displayed confident and sometimes mischievous behaviour towards others that typically you'd find unappealing for a man to display.

"People thinking I'm with you? That is not the kind of attention I'm after."

Not that you ever found John appealing, in any way. He was your buddy; you tolerated his behaviour. That being said, over the years he started lightening up on the harsher jokes with you, opting for more of a platonic flirt more than anything else, finding it was a less harmless way to poke fun at you.

"And the Fair, John? Really?"

The boy shrugged his hands up to defend his suggestion. "What's so bad about the Fair?!"

You rolled your combination into your locker, and he shifted out of the way so you could get into it better once you got it unlocked.

"Nothing's wrong with going to the Fair. Going to the Fair with you on the other hand..." you tisked at him before reaching into your locker to retrieve what binders and books you had left in there. John never used his locker, so he was just waiting on you.

You tossed your bag up over your shoulder once you shoved your books inside, and before John could interject with an if, and, or but, you put your hand up to silence him.

"You left me lost in that fun house--"

"But that was literally ten ago, y/n!"

"Doesn't mean I'm over it!"

You took the lead towards the exit doors, and John followed suit, searching for the right words to convince you to go with him.

"If you go with me tonight, I'll try to win you a stuffed animal,"

"We're doing bribery now, are we?" You smirked, reaching out for the doors and pushing through until both you and John were outside, standing under the sun. It was nice for once for the sun to have been out from behind the clouds.

"Look, you're just always hanging out with your girlies, and I've got my mates, but they're all going to the fair with other people tonight," John started as you both headed to the sidewalk and began to make your way to your place.

"We never really do spontaneous things anymore, just you and I. And, I don't know, growing up a little might have had something to do with it... but it doesn't mean I'm not still your friend, though. I wanna do things with you."

You took John's words into consideration. One thing you really liked about John was that he was passionate, and poetic. You'd seen this reflected in some of his writing before, and he often discussed with you how much he liked music, and how he dreamed that his poems could very well one day soon become songs...

Now, it's not like he spoke the way he wrote, but his thoughts translated to words so quickly and effortlessly, and he, as a speaker, really made you think twice about what he said because he sounded so sure when he spoke.

"... I suppose we have been distant in terms of having fun. I know I won't be able to win an argument with you that studying every other night together is considered 'fun', even though I think otherwise."

You and John both rounded left down the next street, which happened to be where you lived; the benefits of living a block away from school. Your house was coming up, meaning this conversation had to end soon.

"Y/n, of the two of us, it's you who needs to be more spontaneous. Just say yes and come with me tonight."

At this point, you and John had slowed to a stop and were standing at the end of the driveway, facing one another as you pondered whether tonight was going to be spent inside reading and listening to music, or stimulated by exciting noises and lights while you stuffed your face with Carnival delicacies and treats.

"... If I say yes, will I still get my stuffed animal?" You already knew the response as the smile returned to John's face.

You and John made it to the Fair for 6:30, and it was already full of life; children on the rides screaming their heads off, friends competing in mini games like Ring Toss and Balloon Darts, and the smell of popcorn and candy floss swirled through the air.

As you looked around at all of the rides available, you barely noticed John going out of his way to buy tickets for both you and him for the night. When he returned to you, he tried to see if you were looking at a particular ride. "Anything catching your eye?"

"I feel like they have different stuff this year. Like, that one must be new," you pointed to a group a different rides that you'd never seen before. "Let's look around, and if anything looks interesting enough, I say we go for it."

John bought you enough tickets for you both to ride everything anyways, but you two had all night, and nowhere to be the next day, so you agreed to start at one end of the fair, and work your way through it.

The first ride that caught the attention of either one of yous were the Tea Cups.

"Remember the one time I threw up on you on that ride?" You asked John with a little smile, to which he replied without a beat,

"And then I threw up on you and caused a chain reaction with all of the other kids on the ride?"

You both laughed and cringed at the rather unpleasant memory before John kindly took your elbow and pulled you towards the ride gently, knowing full well that your matured stomachs would be able to handle it now, and your moving feet indicated you weren't objecting the idea of getting on.

"We gotta start the fun somewhere, Love. After you," John presented four tickets to the ride operator, and you chose your favourite colour cup to climb into.

"If you just don't spin the cup, we'll make it out of here safe," you warned John with a joking wagging finger, and he saluted to you respectfully as he closed the hatch to the cup and took a seat next to you.

"Don't worry, we won't meet the same fate as last," he grabbed the wheel at the centre of the cup as if to indicate he was going to steady it the whole time, and you were excited to see how well he'd do; and even more excited to make fun of him when he did a bad job.

The ride shot to life, and as the cups began dancing around in different patterns, you watched in amusement as John tried his very hardest to keep the cup from spinning; his attention sometimes turning to you, and he watched as your hair whipped around your smiling face as the ride threw the both of you around.

Your beating heart was building up adrenaline as the ride spun on. You suddenly threw your hands overtop of John's, and his eyes shot up to you, hands going slack on the wheel, and you took that moment to whip the cup around as hard as you could, the world becoming a blur around you, and your energy within escaping in a bound of squeals and giggles.

John couldn't help but join in, your laughter was contagious, and the excitement he felt seeing you having fun made his heart ache a little, but in a good way.

The ride was over much sooner than the either of you would have liked, the both of you combing your fingers through your hair to appear more presentable as your tea cup came to a complete stop. John opened the door for you, and you both continued on on wobbly legs to see what else the Fair had to offer.

After a few carnival games and slow, paced rides, you finally grab John by the wrist after he suggests doing something you'd rather do later so he didn't take off too far.

"I think we should do the Ferris Wheel, John," You dropped his wrist and pointed to the ride in the distance behind him, his eyes following your gaze to it.

"Come along, then," it was now his turn to grab your wrist, and lead you along.

That was one unspoken rule you had with John: he never held your hand. You weren't sure why, and you didn't really care-- you didn't want to hold his hand. You just always settled on the idea John was really committed to the joke about not wanting to get Cooties; and honestly, you respected his devotion to the joke.

Your wait in line to ride the Ferris Wheel was a short one, and your chest filled with excitement yet again as you and John took your seats and the ride operator strapped you in.

As the ride filled with other people, you and John slowly made your way to the very top of the ride, allowing yourselves to take in the view of the Fair that seemed to stretch forever.

"We really should have done this first so we could have seen everything all at once," you said, peering down at some of the unrecognizable stands and rides surrounding you both. One in particular caught your eye, and it was in the shape of a space ship from those cartoons depicting the future.

"We definitely have to check that one out," you pointed to it, and John nodded his head in agreement.

"It seems to be right by the games and food. We'll grab some candy while we're in the area."

"And...?"

"And I'll win you that prize, yeah yeah yeah, I know what I promised."

The Ferris Wheel then took off, and you and John savoured the ride, watching the sun slowly fall towards the horizon, the most beautiful colours painted across the sky.

"I'm glad you convince me to come with you, Johnny. I'm having loads of fun. Thank you," you didn't shout, just loud enough that John could hear, and he smiled at you.

"Like I said, if anyone needs to be more spontaneous, it's you. If I can fix that in any way, I'll take the chance," you smiled back at his words, turning your full attention back to the sky as the ride began to slow, knowing this moment, like everything else, was going to come to an end.

You and John were on a mission to get over to the space ship, passing by a bunch of other rides and games you pointed to and indicated aloud along the way that they were on your To-Do list that evening.

As you approached what you two initially thought was a ride, you discovered that the rocket was actually just a still building. There were two lines entering the ship, and there were a few people in each line.

One of the Fair Staff was walking by, and John stopped him before he went too far. "Hey, what's this one all about?"

"Cosmic Hearts is a matchmaking activity we just added! You're matched with someone of your preference in the other line anonymously, and you both enter the rocket. You spend two minutes in the dark together, and then you leave together when the doors open, revealing who you've matched with. You can also think of it as a two-way Kissing Booth."

The staff member looked at the both of you before adding on slowly, "established couples usually don't use that one..."

"Oh, you must be mistaken, we're not--" John couldn't even correct the guy before he was walking away again. You looked from John, back to the metal space ship. The guys standing in line weren't bad looking at all.

"... I wouldn't mind spending two minutes in the dark with any of them," you thought aloud, noticing that each person in line had at least one unique physical attractive quality.

"Yeah, well I'd be worried they'd be touchy with you. In the dark and all," John huffed, shaking his head at the picture he painted himself, and you bursted out laughing.

"What, so you're my chaperone now? Going in there is knowing full well you're going to have hands all over you. Maybe I want to be squeezed up a little, Johnny, is there any harm in that?"

"I mean," John's face flushed a rosy pink before shutting his eyes and shaking his head again, as if that was going to stop his imagination from doing what an imagination does.

"That's.. not something I want to picture."

"Well look, you don't have to anymore," you took John's arm and pulled him towards one of the game stalls close by. "But you do have to try to win me that stuffed bear. We all know that's what I came for in the first place."

The distraction you set up was a good one. The game you brought John to was pretty much just Balloon Darts but forest- themed. You watched as John tried his very best to aim his darts, but he just couldn't quite seem to make the mark for that bear.

The fifth round came and went, and John was still slapping more tickets down. You knew it didn't help that John was legally blind and flat-out refused to wear his glasses, but you weren't about to start an argument with him over that.

After John used up the rest of his darts from that round, he looked over at you with frustration and he sighed. "Look, I might just need a quick break," John took the tickets from inside his pocket, and placed them in your hand.

"I'm running to the loo, it's just on the other side of the park, just hang out here, play a round... or four... and see if you're a better shot than me,"

"I'm always a better shot than you, Lenny," you called to him as he disappeared in the crowd, waving back to you as if to acknowledge your cocky response.

You went to turn back to the game, but something stopped you. You took a quick glance over your shoulder, and eyed the lineup at the rocket ship. You couldn't believe how good looking the people in the lineup were, you could only imagine what the mystery people in the second line looked like.

And then John's words from earlier became apparent in your head, statement ringing in your ears.

"Y/n, of the two of us, it's you who needs to be more spontaneous."

You furrowed your brow as you thought about this decision you were about to make. The closest lineup to you wasn't long at all, and before you knew it, your feet were pretty much walking themselves up to the line.

There was a girl about your age doing the matching for your line, and she met your gaze after letting the next person in. She grinned, and approached you.

"Hello! Welcome to Cosmic Hearts, do you know how we work?"

"Sort of... I just don't know how the matches are made."

"Oh, it's no worries, we do that all for you! We only really take the girl's request for preference types, and then we match accordingly from the other line. Is there something in particular you want about your match? Looks? Behaviour?"

You raised an interested eyebrow, skeptical about how accurate your preferences would be in terms of the match.

That being said, it was just an elaborate kissing booth, it's not like you were using the stall to find the love of your life-- no, you were looking to prove to John that you could be daring, that you weren't as boring as he maybe thought.

"Look, girl-to-girl here, I trust your judgement in choosing me a good-looking guy..." your voice tapered off for a moment before you added, " I just might want someone who doesn't seem too overconfident."

The Match Girl smiled wide, and gestured toward the door to the spaceship with her hand, pushing it open to let you in. You were the next girl in line, and the boys in the lineup watched as you took a deep breath and moved in.

As you walked toward the threshold of the dark room, Match Girl filled you in on the instructions.

"The other side of the curtain will be your 'contact area', only walk through when you hear the other door close; that'll mean he's inside as well. You'll have two minutes alone together, at which point we will open the central door and let you both out"

Your heart began to quicken. It didn't really occur to you until now that you were about to make out with a complete stranger in the dark, and leave that spaceship hand-in-hand just to prove to John wrong about you lacking in as much fun as he thought.

But this impulsive plan of yours also excited you a lot.

Maybe by the end of the night, you'd be leaving with a boyfriend, and telling John that you told him so.

You took your final step into the rocket, and your heart pounded against your ribcage as it all went dark.

After about thirty seconds of silence, you heard some shuffling from the other side of the curtain, and then a simple, "your two minutes start now," from the staff.

Your heart was beating so loud, you could hear the blood flowing in your ears. Your remaining senses enhanced, provided your lack of vision, and you followed the wall to the right with your hand, past the curtain, and you could feel an immediate change in temperature in the room.

You were much warmer now, hyper-aware of the fact that you were sharing body-heat with whoever the staff matched you with. You had to relay it in your head a few times what this actually meant for you. It meant that the stranger in this room with you was going to get to know you quite intimately in a pretty short amount of time.

This made you think a moment or two about the other party in this situation: The Stranger. What was his story? Was he dared to jump in line by his buddies to get some action? Maybe his story is that he just wanted to have his first kiss to get it just done and over with, or maybe he, like yourself, was just doing it for the Hell of it.

Whatever the reason, you felt you owed it to them to give them a decent snogging.

Your hand continued to drift along the wall before your thumb bumped into another hand. You gasped quietly, knowing you were close to the stranger, just not exactly sure of where abouts until now.

You lifted your hand off the wall at the same time as him, and as to not lose you, he made sure to reach out and take your hand in his gently, seeming more like an offer than a demand, which you took, admittedly rather nervously, especially when his other hand reached out to grab the other hand at your side.

Something was just so thrilling picturing so many renditions of handsome young men in your head, mixing and matching what he looked like based on what you could feel. His hands were larger than yours, and his fingers were calloused.

He played guitar, or bass, or something, and you knew this because John played, and you remember him telling you once that the strings were really hard on the hands, and you could just tell by looking at his hands that he wasn't joking.

You just thought the feeling was such a contrast against your own hands, which were soft and untouched, and you were sure with the way this guy was running his thumbs over your palms, and the pads of your fingers, he was admiring the contrast as well.

You almost wanted to say something to him about it, but he had you stuck in a trance, especially when he let your hands go for a moment to gently feel up your arms for your shoulders. You tried your best not to be too reactive, but you couldn't help the goosebumps trailing after his touch.

His hands moved up, and you felt his fingertips graze the crooks of your neck and then up under your jaw.

Neither of you spoke, this moment too intimate for the silence to break. You and he breathed so shallow, it was hard to even believe there was someone in the room with you.

But there was, and his fingers traced your jawline slowly, one hand deviating up to cradle the back of your head while the other gently traced around your chin.

Your lips parted, your own hands reaching out for his waist so you had some idea of where he was in front of you. Your fingers found his jacket, and as you tightened your hands around the leather, you felt him move a little closer as his thumb finally found its way to your bottom lip.

You felt his breath on your face, and you held your own, squeezing your eyes shut when you realized they had been wide open the whole time.

And finally, after what seemed like too long, his thumb disappeared and he replaced it with his own lips.

The kiss was soft, and not pushy at all, but you were tense like a rock under his touch from how nervous you actually were, and you just kept still.

He pulled away for a moment, and you could feel your face burning. That was not the kind of note you were going to leave on. Whoever this was, he had clearly gotten your attention, and you needed to return the favour.

Your one hand moved up his chest, over his collarbone and around his neck to pull him back down towards you. Your lips came together again, and you felt him melt into your embrace after an unsure second, hands dropping down to snake around your waist and pull you flush against him.

You sighed against his mouth, and he pushed his tongue past your lips, all of your past worries melting away. You were in heaven, so drunk on intimacy that you forgot what you were even doing in there in the first place. You tried pulling him even closer by the jacket, to which he responded by slowly backing you against the wall, one of his hands dropping to your hip, and the other returning to the back of your head like before.

Your hand behind his neck slipped up into his hair, and he moaned gently when you tightened your fingers up in the strands and pulled a little.

"Yes, Baby..." the words tumbled from his mouth lowly, and you felt a chill shoot right up your spine; you immediately froze up, lips separating as the realization hit you. You felt like you were going to faint.

"John?!" Your question was short, but clear, and you felt your suspicions were all too correct when you felt all of his muscles tense up as well at the sound of your voice.

"...Y/n?!" His voice cracked, body frozen in place like a statue. As were you, grip still tight in his hair and on his jacket.

You were speechless-- you couldn't believe the one you just spent the last minute and a half or so with-- the one with whom you spent the most intimate experience in your entire life-- was John.

The gentle touching, the embracing of the heavy silence, the patient behaviour, the soft kissing, the respect of your boundaries, and the feeling of wanting more-- it was all John.

This was the first time in your life you had ever experienced John in a situation where he didn't have the words he needed to speak at his disposal.

But to be fair, neither did you. What would anyone do in a situation like this?

It became all the more real for the both of you a moment later when the doors opened up, the lights around the rocket ship lighting John's face for you to see, and your face for him. You both sported embarrassing shades of red on your cheeks, and John's mouth just hung open in perpetual shock as he took in the fact that it was you.

After a second, you both came back down to earth, and your hands came zipping off each other so fast, John scratching his head nervously and giving you space from the wall, and you folding your arms over your chest and gripping your biceps tightly with your fingers.

You couldn't even look John in the eye, nor could he with you, let alone speak. You walked out the door, John at your side. The Match Girl waited by the bottom of the ramp, grinning ear-to-ear. If only she'd known.

"Pretty good-looking, huh?" She nudged to you with a wink, and you could feel your face grow hotter as you glanced over to John. You made brief eye-contact, and you cast your eyes straight to the ground when it happened.

You were thinking things about John you never would have before had it not been for that stupid snog box.

"Yes," was all you could say, nodding for the most part and squeaking out a soft thank you to her before you turned on your heel, and beelined straight for the women's room, rushing out to John that you were running to the loo without looking back at him.

You were too focused on finding some cold water to splash in your face, and a quiet space to figure out what to do in this situation; the lights and sounds had your head just spinning, and it was too difficult to concentrate.

The women's room was quiet enough, and when you felt you'd splashed enough water in your face, you went and sat in one of the stalls for a while to break down the situation that just happened, and what you were going to do to fix it.

John was your friend. There was no way you were going to let something like this drive a wedge between you, especially if you just had to explain yourselves. You had your reasons going in there, as did he.

You were just hoping this could be something you could both look back on in the future and laugh.

You took a few sobering deep breaths before leaving the women's room. You rounded the corner, not quite sure where to begin looking for John, but you found you didn't have to go far when a rather familiar set of fingers took hold of your own as soon as you stopped.

You glanced over your shoulder and there he was. He'd been waiting for you the whole time.

And now he was holding your hand.

That's new.

"... Can we talk?" you spoke simultaneously, and you both smiled a little. John still couldn't seem to hold your gaze for too long without needing to tear his eyes away and resort to looking at his shoes, yet he still held a firm grip on your hand.

You'd never seen him like this before. It was sobering to see him without so much confidence.

"Where did you wanna talk? Nowhere's really private here."

"... Did you just wanna get outta here?" As soon as the words left his mouth, your shoulders lowered in relief. You both definitely had enough excitement for the night, and when you nodded your head sheepishly, John gave your hand a little squeeze, gestured you to come with him with his head, and you both headed for the Fair exit.

Your stroll down the town streets were quiet. Nothing was said between you two for the first little while, your strides were slow, your destination was unknown, and your hands were still clasped together. You took in the night air, for the sun had dropped below the horizon while you were in the spaceship, and the temperatures were lower.

You weren't too sure yet how John felt about all of that night's events so far, and what he thought of you. Clearly, based on the fact that his hand was still in yours, some opinion of his had changed.

Was he comfortable holding your hand now knowing it was you who shared such an intimate moment with him? Or was he maybe wanting to break off this friendship with you all because of tonight, and hand-holding was the only way he could think to comfort you?

At one point, John's fingers unraveled from yours, and you both slowed to a stop. He shrugged off his jacket and wordlessly draped it over your shoulders before you pushed your arms up into the sleeves. John tried looking you in the eye again, and he swallowed nervously, face going red yet again.

"John, we need to talk about what happened."

"I know."

You took his hand this time, and guided him to the curb, sitting down together. Your fingers left his, and you both planted your hands at the curb at your sides.

There was silence for a moment as the memories of what happened back at the Fair resurfaced in your minds, what you were both feeling for each other, physically and emotionally, in your literal moments of blissful ignorance...

"Okay. I'm just going to put this out there right now. John, I had absolutely no idea that they matched me with you, or that you were even in line, for that matter." You sighed before continuing on, feeling the creep of warmth washing over your face yet again.

"I jumped in line impulsively when you left because I figured if you came back and you saw me leaving the rocket with a guy, I could prove to you tonight that I can be just as spontaneous and daring and fun as you."

You could see the gears turning in John's head when you finished saying your part, and after a second of putting the pieces together, his eyes widened, and then this wide smile spread right across his face, and, to your utter relief, he started laughing.

And it sounded so different compared to all of the other times he laughed around you. You couldn't quite place exactly what was different this time, but you found it to be more melodic than usual; more genuine. It was like music to your ears.

"I uh, I jumped in line for kind of the same reason." You raised a confused eyebrow, so John elaborated a little more, smile faltering a little as he cleared things up.

"Let me explain; If you saw me leaving the rocket with a girl, I was hoping I could convince you to do something tonight a little out of your comfort zone, like I did with that."

There was your Pièce De Résistance: John's reason for being in there all along was to teach you to live a little. And you were simply in there to live.

"Not that I wanted to see you specifically go through with the spaceship and getting felt up the wrong way, per se, but I just..."

John's words trailed off, and you could tell he was struggling to find words again. So, he decided to take this conversation in another direction.

"Okay, look, y/n, I don't want you to be under the impression that I think you're no fun. It's just not true. I adore you. There's just something about seeing you at the peak of excitement that makes me feel warm inside, like a child. I see this in moments you doubt yourself, but you still take that chance and you come out successful in the end, shining with confidence. I wanted to see you tonight with that same glow. And I would have if I hadn't have made fun in the first place that you were such a bore, so I'm sorry."

John dropped his head down after he finished speaking, and you looked at him for a moment, blinking once before reaching out to rub his back.

"Johnny, there is nothing to be sorry about." He turned his gaze to look at you, and you took some long pauses between your sentences. John was patient, eyes watching your face, and hanging onto every word you said.

"Of all the people I could have ended up with in that rocket tonight, I don't think you have any idea just how grateful I am that it was you in there with me, and not some stranger."

You didn't think you could keep it inside forever just what you thought about John's kissing, but you didn't think you'd give up fifteen minutes after the situation, either.

"John, I've kissed boys before, that's no secret between us; but what is is that I've never kissed a boy the way I kissed you tonight, and the attention you were giving back to me, I thought I nearly fell for you in there, and I had no clue it was even you," you laughed a little, the words feeling funny in your mouth, especially when they were for John's ears, only. Those words elicited red faces from the both of you.

"... I never thought I'd ever be nervous looking you in the eye, but to be quite honest, all that comes to mind when I see your face right now is the bubbling of excitement in my chest, and the feel of my legs going wobbly. God, John, would I be crazy to say I want you to kiss me like that all over again?"

You figured if you didn't throw the opportunity out there, you just might lose the chance to experience what you felt again, even if it meant just one last time in your life. But when John remained silent for longer than you hoped, your confidence began to falter. Perhaps John wasn't so comfortable with you anymore.

"... Would I be crazy?" You asked again, this time just above a whisper. John was the kind of person you expected to laugh something like this off. Perhaps he'd tease you for a moment, but ultimately tell you it was no big deal before gently rejecting you.

Instead, his silence indicated something much different. His eyes darted to your lips for a moment, a hand reaching up to hold the back of your head gently as he glanced up into your eyes.

"Love, if you think you're crazy for thinking that, then what I'm thinking must make me completely mad."

Your heart pounded against your ribcage, and John decided not to waste any more time in reconnecting your lips.

At first it was a little strange, his mouth on yours, but it wasn't in any way unpleasant. You found yourself, before long, snaking your arms around John's shoulders as you pulled him ever closer, your chests now flush as he tilted his head to the side to deepen the kiss. You hummed at the contact, but John had to pull away soon after to catch a breath, but he kept your chests flush so he could feel your heartbeat.

The contrast of kissing him knowing full well who he was still didn't change the respect in his movements, and the gentleness of his kisses.

When your eyes met again, you couldn't help but smile nervously at him, biting down on your lip as you noticed his cheeks glowed pink.

"Wow," you sighed.

"I'll say," he responded, one corner of his mouth twitching up into a smirk as the pad of his thumb drew invisible patterns from your cheekbone down your jaw.

That's when your smile began to fall slowly, and John noticed this as he was going to dive in for another kiss.

"What's the matter, Love?"

"... I think I like this too much. I think I like you too much," you said bluntly. The more you and John indulged in what you both physically wanted, the more you realized what you were putting on the line.

"... And is that a problem?" John asked you gently, and you raised your eyebrow, pulling away a little more from the embrace.

"It's a problem because this puts our friendship at risk, John. Every time our lips touch, the harder it is to look at you platonically."

"Then don't look at me platonically anymore," His suggestion was so effortless as you felt his other hand reach up to play with your hair.

"... I never expected tonight to go the way it did. But y/n, the more I think about a situation where it was anyone but me in that rocket with you, the more jealous I'm becoming... The more grateful I am that it was me, too."

John took another moment to bask in the silence before clearing his throat, and looking you right in the eyes.

"My eyes are wider than they've ever been before, and my mind is so clear. Why don't we try dating?" He suggested after a moment of deciding whether to ask in the first place.

"Dating?!" You paused. "John, if anything were to happen to what we have..."

"I know you're scared, y/n. So am I. But... I also believe this can be the beginning of something really great."

John let the hand in your hair drop to his shoulder where one of your hands rested. He gave your fingers a squeeze before he raised your hand to his lips to kiss your knuckles.

"We already kind of go on dates, and now that kissing and hand holding is on the list of things we're comfortable with, we might as well just put a label on it."

John paused for a moment. "It's not like we have to scream it from the rooftops unless you wanted to. But... after tonight, it would be a treat to be able to walk around with my arm 'round your waist and proudly announce to the world that you're mine."

That comment of his made you bite back a toothy grin, but your red face really emphasized how his words made you feel. You were expecting a teasing jab from John, but, surprisingly, nothing came. Just hopeful eyes awaiting your response.

"If you're so confident we'll flourish romantically... then I'm with you, Johnny. We'll give it a go. But under one condition!"

John looked at you expectantly.

"You win me that damned stuffed animal tomorrow night, Lenny."

Now it was John's turn to grin, his arms curling around your body and pulling you into a warm embrace as he mumbled "deal" into your ear.

You were once again surrounded by leather, the crisp night air, the single dim beam of light from the streetlamp, and the faintest scent of whatever John's body wash was.

But most of all, you we're surrounded by young love.

You finally supposed that by the end of the night, you did end up leaving with a boyfriend, and telling John that you told him so.

You just had no clue you could kill two birds with one stone the way you had.

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

A/A/N: I really hope you guys enjoyed this! I've had it in the works for LITERALLY four years now, and I am just SO glad it can be out in the world now.

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This Be Y'all Every Time I Post A New Chapter For TCND

This be Y'all every time I post a new chapter for TCND

Finding someone with the same music taste as you

image
Phelps; “You Know Jack Kelso?”
Phelps; “You Know Jack Kelso?”
Phelps; “You Know Jack Kelso?”
Phelps; “You Know Jack Kelso?”
Phelps; “You Know Jack Kelso?”
Phelps; “You Know Jack Kelso?”

Phelps; “You know Jack Kelso?”

Biggs; “He’s an insurance investigator over at California Fire and Life. Our paths cross from time to time. For some reason, seeing you makes me think of him.”

“We have begun the Reaping, begun the preparation of our life during the Collapse. The Father tells us that God will salt this earth for seven years and only after will his New Eden grow. Those unprepared will descend into madness but we will thrive, for I have claimed every part of this valley in the name of the Father. The food, the supplies and the people now belong to the Project at Eden’s Gate. If they are not handed over willingly they will be taken by force. If you try to fight, try to resist - you will be purged. But if you open your hearts to the Project at Eden’s Gate, if you share your bounty with us we will protect you from the calamity to come. All are welcome in our garden. You just have to say “yes”.”

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all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney - Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds
Lucy In The Sky With Diamonds

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