ℙ𝔸𝕀ℕ ⇒ 𝕁𝕆ℍℕ 𝕃𝔼ℕℕ𝕆ℕ

⋄ ⅩⅩⅩⅠⅩ ⋄

❝𝕹𝖊𝖛𝖊𝖗 𝖙𝖗𝖚𝖘𝖙 𝖆 𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖞 𝖌𝖎𝖗𝖑 𝖜𝖎𝖙𝖍 𝖆𝖓 𝖚𝖌𝖑𝖞 𝖘𝖊𝖈𝖗𝖊𝖙,❞

...

| December 25th, 1964 |

Charlotte's POV

Charlotte gasped and quickly lifted the blanket, seeing not George, but John's face wedged in between her legs. Half his face was hidden behind her body but she could feel the smirk that played itself onto his face.

She lifted her leg and pressed her foot against his face, pushing him away from her with all her might, making him fall onto the floor.

"John what the actual fuck?!" Charlotte whisper shouted, pulling her knickers back up as quick as possible.

"Hmmmm you taste really good, love, no wonder our little Georgie has a sweet tooth," The words rolled off of John's tongue smoothly and seductively as he ignored her previous exclamation, licking his fingers clean of any remaining moistness.

"John! Get the fuck out!" She pointed towards the door harshly.

"Ohhh, but this is my house," John rose his eyebrows, his smirk only widening.

"Don't fucking tell anyone about what happened tonight, you hear me?" Charlotte growled, an overwhelming sense of hatred bubbling up inside of her.

"What do I get out of it?" He ran his hand through his hair.

"What do you want?" She frowned, desperately trying to will the knot in her stomach away.

"I want us to do this again sometime~" John grinned from ear to ear maliciously. "I enjoyed this,"

"Fuck no John! I'm not gonna cheat on George willingly! I love him!" Charlotte nearly shouted, but immediately quieted down again.

"Oh but I guess I'll go tell him what happened tonight, yes?" He started walking towards the door threateningly.

"Fuck, fine John, whatever, but don't you dare say a damn word about any of this," She scrambled out of her bed and gripped his collar tightly.

"Yer threats don't scare me, love, it's yer intoxicating body that does, it pulls me in, I want to explore every inch of yer bare skin and I can't stop the lustful ideas that pop into me head when I do so much as make eye contact with ya," John grabs her wrists and pulls her closer, their faces mere centimeters apart.

"Get the fuck away from me, John," Charlotte released herself from his grip and stumbles away from him, breathing heavily.

"Even the way ya say me name makes me pants feel tighter," He steps towards the door, his hand on the doorknob.

Charlotte grimaces and glares deeply at the man.

"I can't wait to see more than just yer pussy," John laughs acerbically, winks, and exits the room, leaving Charlotte with a vile and guilty feeling welling up inside of her.

...

Charlotte found it hard to fall asleep, so she twisted and turned in the bed fervently. She hated the sickening and wretched feeling inside her body. John was blackmailing her for sex, and she had no idea how to get out of the situation. Should she tell George what was happening? No, he would resent John for the rest of his life and she would feel extremely guilty. The only choice that wouldn't cause conflict between anyone (unless George somehow found out, which it was inevitable that he would), was to just get it over with and not say a thing about it.