ℙ𝔸𝕀ℕ ⇒ 𝕁𝕆ℍℕ 𝕃𝔼ℕℕ𝕆ℕ

⋄ ⅩⅩⅤ ⋄

❝𝖂𝖍𝖊𝖓 𝖘𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖑𝖔𝖛𝖊𝖘 𝖞𝖔𝖚, 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖜𝖆𝖞 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖞 𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖐 𝖆𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖙 𝖞𝖔𝖚 𝖎𝖘 𝖉𝖎𝖋𝖋𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖙. 𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝖋𝖊𝖊𝖑 𝖘𝖆𝖋𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖋𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖆𝖇𝖑𝖊,❞

❝𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖔𝖓 𝕴 𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖐 𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖞𝖘𝖊𝖑𝖋 𝖎𝖘 𝖇𝖊𝖈𝖆𝖚𝖘𝖊 𝕴'𝖒 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖔𝖓𝖑𝖞 𝖔𝖓𝖊 𝖜𝖍𝖔𝖘𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖘𝖜𝖊𝖗𝖘 𝕴 𝖆𝖈𝖈𝖊𝖕𝖙,❞

...

(A/N: More smut 😂 Also, this chapter is dedicated to stellawasaharrison. Thank you so much for reading my story and giving it a chance, it means the world to me!)

| March 3rd, 1964 |

They arrived back at George's house and the couple was faced with the daunting task of bringing John into the building.

"Come ooooon," Charlotte groaned, irritated that John was such high maintenance.

The woman had dragged John halfway out of the car while holding his torso in a tight hug. John wasn't doing anything to help the two as they struggled to even get him out of the vehicle.

George stood at the other end and carefully held John's ankles, lifting his body. The situation looked suspicious, two people carrying a lifeless body out of a car.

They shuffled up the driveway and made it to the door, the next checkpoint.

"Alright, we need to open the door," George spoke, wondering what plan of action would be best.

Charlotte shifted John onto her knee and quickly unlocked the door and pushed it open, accidentally making the door harshly hit the wall.

The two carried John to the couch and as they made their way to the living room. A small amount of drool dripped from John's mouth and onto Charlotte's hand, making her drop him onto the floor and wipe her hands against his jacket, gagging.

George laughed, still holding John's feet up.

"Well, he looks comfortable," George shrugged, released his grip on his ankles and his legs hit the floor with a loud 'thud'.

"Yeah, he'll be fine," Charlotte waved it off as they both stood above John's body watching his eyes twitch.

"Eyyy he's dreamin'," George stuffed his hands in his pocket.

"Yeah,"

An awkward silence fell upon the room until George drew closer to her.

(A/N: Smut starts here 👇)

"Y'know, he'll probably be sleepin' for a while, yeah?" His deep sensual voice soothed Charlotte but also excited her.

He leaned closer to her and nuzzled his face in the crook of her neck, his long eyelashes gently stroking her bare neck, tickling her slightly.

"George, what do you mean," She giggled, desperately trying to ignore the burning feeling on her face.

"You know what I mean," George draped his arms around her waist and his breath fanned her neck, arousing her slightly.

"Well, what if John wakes up?"

"Even if he did, he's too pissed to know what's going on, love,"