⇾ 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐖𝐍 | 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐋𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐧 𝐈𝐈

𝚇𝚇

YOU STUPID MFS (and I say that in the nicest way possible because I'm in love with you sexy people😍) YOU GOT ME TO 100K ON KEEP YOUR HANDS OFF MY BABY😭😭😭 LIKE YALL IM SOBBING ABDHSHFH BYE

𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚃𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢 → 𝙵𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙸𝚗 𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝙰𝚐𝚊𝚒𝚗

⊹ 𝟹-𝟸𝟶-𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟾 ⊹

"John, get your goddamn hands off of me!" I shouted, wiggling my shoulders free from his grip as he tried to guide me toward the front door. I'd finally been released from the hospital and John wasn't letting me go home. He was forcing me to stay at Kenwood with him and Julian, who had been with Maureen and Ringo since I'd been hospitalized. I hadn't even seen him since the night that he had stayed with John. I hadn't wanted him to see me in the hospital. I'd practically begged John to wait until I got back home.

"If you shout at me one more time, Liss, I swear to God, I will whack you upside the damn head. I'm being helpful!"

"No, you are being overbearing!" I argued back, turning around to face him with a scowl on my face. I felt absolutely fine. My legs still felt a little weak, but that could have very well been the fact that hospital food was awful and John and Paul refused to bring me anything better. After we had gotten in the car that was to take us to Kenwood, I'd scolded them and told them that if I was being forced to stay with bloody John, then one of them could be forced to go and get me something decent to eat. Paul was now out and about, finding me that "decent" food.

The front door opened and My head whipped around. I was delighted to see Julian coming over to see me, an impossibly wide smile on his face. "Mummy!" he cried as he ran toward me. I crouched down to catch him in my arms, but he stopped before he reached me.

"Do I not get a hug?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Daddy told me to be careful," Julian answered, folding his hands behind his back. I frowned and turned around to John. He shrugged.

"Don't listen to Daddy," I told Julian as I turned back to him with a smile. "Give me a hug!"

Julian broke out into a wide grin again and moved forward, wrapping his arms around me. I squeezed him tight, feeling so damn guilty as I thought about how awful he must have felt the past two days.

When he pulled away, Julian looked from John behind me, then back at me. "Do you feel better, Mummy?" he asked.

I nodded, putting on my strongest smile even though it was partially a lie. "I'm fine, Jules, but how are you? Feelin' better now?"

The little boy nodded. "My tummy feels much better!" he said, but still looked rather perplexed as he stared at me.

"Something wrong, love?" I asked him.

"Daddy was really worried about you, Mummy," he said. "Why was he so worried? Are you gonna die?"

My eyes went wide. "Am I what?" I asked. "No, Julian, I'm not gonna die," I said, my hands shaking as the words caused me so much shock. "Where did you get that idea?"

"Daddy told Uncle Ringo that he thought you were gonna die." Tears welled up in Julian's eyes and there was an uncomfortable jolt in my stomach. My hands scrambled to pull him close to me again when he began to sniffle.

"Well, I'm not gonna die," I responded. "I'm just alright. Dunno what Daddy thought was so bad."

Understatement of the bloody millennium.

I carefully lifted Julian off the ground as I stood up, glancing at John as I turned in a circle and started towards the front door. I saw Ringo and Maureen standing on the porch looking at us. They could probably see in my eyes how much I wanted to shout at John right now, or how much I wanted to tackle him to the bloody ground.

A pretty pathetic sob fell from Julian's grasp as his little arms wrapped around my neck, squeezing so tight that it was almost uncomfortable, and I carried him towards the nearest sitting room so that I could curl up with him on the couch. I knew how to help him when he was upset. He was just like his damned father—such a cuddler. All he wanted when he was upset was to be held, and I wouldn't have it any other way.

As I heard my son cry over the idea of me bloody dying, I began to hate myself even more. I was always so keen on making him happy...and the fact that I'd upset him so much made me feel awful. My tears welled up in my eyes and I wrapped my arms around him a little more, perhaps needing to be held myself.

Another person joined us in the room—John. He sat down next to me, putting his arms around both me and Julian, and it was just the amount of love that I needed to feel better. I leaned my head against him as I cried, and Julian cried, and hell, maybe John cried too. We were all going through shite right now, and we needed each other. We all needed to be together because this was a bloody family matter, and that's what we were.

Family.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Julian enjoyed some chicken tenders and mashed potatoes while talking to Paul and John as I quietly ate my own across the table, lost in my own thoughts. In fact, I was so lost in thought, that I was startled when John uttered my name—or rather, shouted my name.

"Hm?" I asked. "What's happening?" I looked up to see John, Julian, and Paul all staring at me, and I blushed.

"Was askin' about how yer likin' that food," Paul said. "Doesn't seem like you're eating much of it."

"Guess I'm just not hungry," I responded vaguely, and it wasn't really true. I was hungry. It just didn't feel like I had the bloody strength to eat. I didn't want to eat even though I needed to eat. The idea of food even being in my mouth made me queasy, so I pushed my plate forward a few inches in disappointment.

"I'm tired," Julian said when there was a pause between all of us.

"I'll take you upstairs," Paul offered, seeming like he wanted an excuse to get away from this table. John was staring at me so intensely that I wondered if he had even heard his son speak at all.

"Only if you'll read the doggy story, Uncle Paw."

Paul smiled. "I would love to read the doggy story," he answered with a smile, standing up. Once he had removed Julian from his booster seat and left the room, John began to speak.

"Something's wrong," he said. "You just asked for that damned food and now yer not eating it. Ye bloody ridiculed Paul until he went to get it for you. What changed?"

I shrugged. "The idea of putting anything in my mouth right now just makes me want to vomit," I answered simply. "Dunno what's wrong. I am hungry."

"Well, then you need to bloody eat," he responded, reaching across the table and pushing my plate back in front of me.

"I've been doing some thinking," I said.

"Have you really?" he asked. "Congratu-bloody-lations, Liss. I'm so proud of you."

"Bloody hate you, John," I muttered. "Ye treat me like shite sometimes."

"Oh, come off it," he said. "Yer just being dramatic. What have ye been thinking about? Is that what you want me to say?"

"Yes," I responded, pursing my lips. I placed my elbows on the table, discreetly pushing the plate in front of me away. "Been thinkin' about how much I hate myself after what I did the other night. Been thinking of what brought it all on. Feel like I'm goin' a bit barmy, John. There are days where I'm so happy, then there are times when I'm not, and it happens all the time. It switches all the time. It's fuckin' exhausting keeping up with myself. Can't imagine how you must feel, trying to bloody tame me."

"Feel a bit knackered, I'll tell you," John responded. "But, I also don't mind. As long as you're okay, then I don't care how I feel."

"John, I think I need help," I said. "Mental help mostly, but...I also think I need a different kind of help. I think I need to stop drinking. Causes too many problems."

John nodded. "At least yer fuckin admitting it," he mumbled.

"But, it's something I can't do alone," I said. "And, I think I want you to help me with it. Not Paul or anyone. You are my husband, so I think you should be the one to help me...only if you want to, of course."

Impossible as it seemed, John smiled when he heard those words. "Ye just warmed my cold fuckin' heart, Liss."

"Did I?" I grinned. "That was the point, really. Actually don't care if you are my partner. Just wanted to make sure you still knew how to smile."

"Well, I am your bloody partner," he said, "so get used to it."

I smiled. "Thanks, John."

"We'll throw it all out," he said. "If yer quitting, then so am I."

My eyes widened. "Wha'?" I asked.

He shrugged. "Ye really bloody scared me the other night, Lissy. I don't want it to happen again. I'll do anything to never see you like that again."

I frowned. "John, you don't have to—."

"Yes, I do. Now shut your damned mouth. Are you gonna eat that ruddy chicken or not?" he asked.

I shook my head. "Think I've said that about three times already." My stomach still cramped in hunger, but the rest of my body rejected the idea of eating, and I'd done enough vomiting the past forty-eight hours as my body tried to get rid of all the damned toxins in my body. I was sick of puking, so I refused to take any chances.

John stood up and stacked his plate on top of Paul's abandoned plate, then balanced Julian's giraffe-shaped on top of those, and finally took the plate from in front of me.

When I was alone in the dining room, I began to think of what idea I had just proposed. Could I really just completely give up alcohol? I relied so much on it now to get through my day. Could I really just give it up? Was I strong enough to do that? I'd given it up for about nine months when I was pregnant with Julian, and that had been a bloody challenge on its own.

Then again, did I have to give it up for good, or was there still a chance that I could down a cold one every now and then and not end up in the goddamn hospital? Was it really a matter of getting rid of alcohol altogether, or was it just getting my urges to consume it under control?

Maybe it was a little of both. Maybe I needed to lose it all the way long enough to cleanse my body of it all, and maybe when I had a little more self-control I could allow myself to have a few bevvies every now and then. Maybe that was plausible.

"Come to the living room with me, Lissy." I looked up to see John circling the ridiculously large dining table and leading out the doorway behind me. I shakily pushed my hands against the wooden surface of the dinner table and stood, following him as he weaved down the hallway and ventured into the humungous living room.

He collapsed onto one of the couches, a mere two feet away from the arm. He patted the space between him and the side of the couch, motioning for me to come and sit down next to him. I obliged. I squeezed into the space next to him and leaned my head against his shoulder. His hands immediately found their way into my hair. He ran his fingers through my locks, smoothing out all the rough spots like he loved to do.

"I'm sorry about how I've been acting, John," I muttered, closing my eyes in bliss because I loved the way his fingers felt when they were combing through my hair. It reminded me of all the nights when we laid in bed together and when I'd lay my head against his chest, hoping to hear his heartbeat, and he'd play with my hair, the hair that had been blonde back then.

Now, it was back to its original brown color, and I quite liked it that way at the time being. I wondered what he thought of it. I knew that he preferred blonde birds over brunette birds, but deep down, there was a part of me hoping that he'd made an exception for me. After all, I'd been brunette when he'd fallen in love with me. I hadn't bleached my hair for the first time until we were married and I was deep into my pregnancy. The blonde only came to be because people began to recognize me.

"Don't apologize," he whispered. "It's all over now," he said.

"But, is it really?" I asked. "Aren't you a bit livid that I slept with someone else?"

"Already told you that I can't be."

"Well, you shouldn't be. That doesn't necessarily mean that you aren't."

Maybe I'm a little livid," he said before his words trailed off into a series of hums. "All depends, really."

"On what?" I asked warily. "What does it depend on, John, love?"

"Was he as good as me?" he asked. "Did he make you as crazy as me? Did ye moan as loud as ye do with me?" His voice continued to get deeper and quieter with each passing second, and I shivered at how downright sexy it sounded. My insides ached to feel John again after so many months. So many bloody agonizing months without him, and now that he was seeming so into me, it practically left me foaming at the mouth. He'd barely spoken so far, and he hadn't even touched me in a provocative way, yet I was already falling apart beside him. "Gonna answer me?" he asked when I offered up no response.

"No, John," I responded. "You're much better, I think. Unless you've lost yer magic touch...but if it's as good as I remember it, those fingers should be doin' much more than combing my hair right now," I mumbled, my nerves quaking as John got me all worked up.

"That right?" he said and suddenly, my hair was all against my shoulders and his hands danced down my sides and landed just above my hips. "This better? This where you want me to touch you?"

My legs slowly and instinctively parted as his hands got closer and closer to where I wanted to feel them the most. "Not exactly, John," I answered honestly.

He moved them even closer to the most sensitive spot on my body and an agitated whine fell from my lips as he teased me even further. "How about there?" he asked again.

"Fuckin' hell, John, don't act so goddamn clueless!" I hissed. His hands gripped my waist and he hoisted me onto his lap, crashing his lips against mine as he abolished every boundary between us. It felt so wonderful to feel him in his way again, after so damn long. I'd missed him so much. I'd been so lonely without him. I missed the kisses, the touching, the sex. I missed it all.

His fingers grazed my torso underneath my shirt, and I let out a pleasurable moan against his lips, feeling him grow more excited beneath me.

"God, fuckin', bloody, damn hell, you two!" Paul yelped and we both jerked away from each other, our cheeks flush with heat as we looked over at Paul shielding his eyes in the doorway, We watched as he turned his back to us in agitation. "Thought you guys weren't together. Fuckin' bloody fuck, I wish I'd never seen that...or heard that!"

My hands still longed to touch him some more, to reacquaint myself with his every feature, but since Paul was standing in the bloody room, I didn't have that choice. I moved aside, collapsing on the couch next to John, my eyes wide and my head still reeling from what had just happened. There was silence as I watched Paul cautiously turn back around to make sure that we weren't on top of each other anymore. When we weren't, he sighed in relief. Then, there was a frown on his face and he crossed his arms. "Better be glad I didn't bring Jules down here," he said. "He wants to tell you two goodnight."

I nodded and pushed myself to my feet, thankful for an opportunity to leave this bloody awkward situation behind, but also not too happy with Paul for interrupting something that I wanted—nay, needed—so very badly. I looked back at John when I realized that he wasn't following me. "Ye comin' or not?" I asked shakily. He nodded and also stood, following alongside me as we trailed past Paul and into the hallway, our heads both tucked down toward the ground in embarrassment.

Paul followed behind us until we made it to Julian's bedroom. Julian was comfortably situated with all of his stuffed animals, and he smiled when he saw us coming in together rather than apart. "Mummy, don't you love Daddy?" Julian asked suddenly.

I looked over at John, my cheeks turning red. "Of course, I love Daddy," I replied.

"And, I know that Daddy loves you," he said. I sat down next to him on his bed and John sat on the foot of the bed, a few feet away from me.

"And, how do you know that?" I asked with a teasing smile in John's direction.

"Because he told me so." Julian grinned from ear to ear. "So, I think we should live together again," he said. "Since we all love each other."

I looked back at Paul, wondering if he had put Julian up to this, but he only shrugged. After all, Paul hadn't any idea what I'd sent him out of the room to tell John yesterday. He really--maybe until about two minutes ago--had no idea how much closer we were to being back together. It felt like we were so close now, yet it also felt like we were still lightyears away from such a feat. There was still so much work to be done, despite how much we had already done. It almost felt like we'd never make it to the end and totally reconcile our relationship.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Despite what he'd walked in on earlier, Paul decided to stay the night since it was so late already. Maybe there was a part of him that hoped that John and I wouldn't mess about with him a few doors down, but he was totally wrong, of course.

There was still so much in the air between us, and there was still so much more that needed to be said, but when John's lips danced across my skin expertly, there was no time to talk. There was no time for words. All I could think about was him, his hands, his lips, his body, what he was doing to me, how he made me feel.

Feelings of pleasure wracked my brain and his agonizing paces drove me crazy, making me whine and beg for more. Every time I'd say the word please, he'd only chuckle and fucking ignore me, the bloody bastard.

"John, what're ye doin'?" I asked airily when he stopped kissing me for about the hundredth bloody time in the past two seconds.

"Makin' ye fuckin' wait," he responded.

"Well, why the hell are you doin' that?" I asked frustratedly. "You get me all blood wound up, then you fuckin' stop and leave me unsatisfied. Just fuckin' shag me already, would you?"

"You made me wait five goddamn months. You can wait a few more minutes."

My mouth fell open in agitation. "Wha'? That is why yer doin' this? Is that the only reason you're doin' this? Or do you actually fuckin' wanna do this? Do you really love me, or are you just trying to piss me off?"

"Maybe a bit of both," he responded. "T's alright, Lissy. I'll please you when I think that ye need it most."

"I need it most right now," I responded. "If you wait any longer, I'll no longer be in the damn mood."

"Don't be fuckin' ridiculous. You are always in the mood to shag me. Especially when you've been deprived of it for a long time...that being, more than two days."

He was right. I don't think that we'd ever come to a point anytime soon where I wasn't up for a shag. It had been way too long since he'd made me feel this way, and I didn't realize how much I was missing it until I was experiencing it right now.

Though, I had to admit, I was a bit peckish from not eating earlier, so if John didn't get a bloody move on, then I'd be him behind for some food instead.

His lips finally attached to mine again, and I let out a sigh that was half from pleasure and half from the fact that I was expecting this kissing to come to an end soon. As impossible as it seemed, I was getting bloody bored. All he was doing was fucking teasing me. It wasn't like he was actually giving me what I wanted. He wasn't even touching me anymore. He was just kissing me.

I waited patiently because I knew that he'd pull away from me again, and eventually he did. I groaned in agitation and finally pushed against his chest, moving him to the side.

"I'm bloody bored, John," I said, crossing my arms stubbornly. "Yer bein' ridiculous, and I feel ridiculous, laying here in nothin' but a bloody bra and underwear while you're still wearing all of your clothes. Feel like a bloody prostitute or some shite." I sat up and reached for the first piece of clothing in sight—one of his button-ups that quite frankly didn't look like it had been washed in days. I didn't care, though. As long as it would cover me up, I didn't see the harm in it.

I stood up and went towards the door. "Oh, bloody hell, Liss, where the hell are you going?"

"To find something to fuckin' eat. I'm starvin', and you're not helpin', are you?" I scowled.

The bed creaked as John scrambled to follow after me. He didn't speak as I went down to the kitchen and opened the fridge, reaching for the little white box with the leftover chicken from earlier inside. I hopped up onto the counter and cracked it open, taking a piece out and taking a huge bite without even heating it up. As soon as I bit into it, I realized how damn ravenous I was.

John stood across from me, and he leaned back against the counter opposite me, staring at me like I was crazy and raising his eyebrows in curiosity. "Should've eaten at dinner," he muttered as he watched me.

"I bloody realized it, thanks, ye bastard," I responded with a grimace. "Should just tell me that ye don't want a damn shag so that I don't have to lay with my legs around you for almost a bloody hour. They're fuckin' sore, John."

"Never said I didn't want a bloody shag," he mumbled.

"So, why in the hell did you not fuckin' shag me, then?" I asked with furrowed eyebrows.

He didn't say anything for a moment. He just sat there, and I pushed out a lengthy sigh, taking a melancholy bite of my chicken as rejection stung me.

"Think we need to discuss the status of this relationship before we tumble into bed again together," John admitted and I looked back up at him, raising an eyebrow.

"The hell did you just say?" I asked because I was sure that I had heard that wrong. I was absolutely positive that I had imagined it.

"Said we need to talk before we shag," he responded, looking almost apprehensive himself. "And, I know you really wanna shag...I do too! I'm just trying to think rationally right now...as an adult, as a father to our son."

My mouth fell open because I was so shocked. I wanted to ask him to repeat it about a hundred times over, just to make sure that I had really heard it right. "You?" I questioned doubtfully. "You want to discuss feelings? You want to postpone sex to discuss feelings? Are you—like—sick or something? Are you okay?"

John rolled his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic," he said. "Don't you want to talk about this too?"

"Not particularly," I muttered. "Because it's all so confusing...but, I suppose we need to, huh?" I raised a hand to brush some rogue strands of hair behind my ears. He nodded, rubbing his hands together in front of himself before folding them across his body again.

"So..." he began.

I swallowed a bite of my chicken. "So," I repeated.

"What exactly are we right now, Alissa?" John asked me. "Because, I really am quite confused."

I gulped and avoided his eyes. "Well, John...I'm not really sure. I'm a bit confused too."

"Suppose we need to figure this shite out, then, don't we? We're too old to be fuck buddies like we were when we first met, Liss."

"You know, John," I muttered. "Maybe we should try this again, you and me."

"You think?" he asked. "Or, are you just saying that so that you can shag me?" He smirked.

"No, it's not just because I want to shag you," I responded. "It's because I wanna be with you."

"So, we should just wake up tomorrow and announce that we're married again?" John asked. "It's not that bloody easy, is it?"

"Course it isn't that easy," I responded. "What do you think will happen if we get everyone around us voicing their opinions on our decision?" I asked. "How do you think that will affect our decision? Aren't you worried it'll fuck it all up again?"

"Well, who knows?" he asked. "Maybe they will be in full support."

"I can name about a dozen people who most certainly would not," I retorted. "Starting with Paul."

"He is bloody pissed at me, isn't he?"

I nodded silently, taking another bite of my chicken, frowning when I realized it was gone. One glance at another piece of it, however, made me feel bloody exhausted without even touching it. Eating seemed fucking exhausting. Everything seemed exhausting since I'd bloody overdosed. Then, I had an idea.

"Well," I said as I turned back around to face him. I moved my body closer to him, shuffling the material of his t-shirt between my fingers. "What if we just tried it out in private for a while?" I asked with a cheeky grin at him. "Go back to our damned roots?"

John gulped. "So, you want to lie?"

"Well, don't bloody put it that way," I responded. "I might back out."

"That mean you're not gonna be living here for now?" John asked and he reached forward, fidgeting with strands of my hair as I continued to run my fingers along his shirt, eventually making it to the hemline where I could move on to the skin. "How'm I supposed to shag ye every day if yer not livin' here?"

"What'd we do back in Hamburg all those years ago?" I asked with a cheeky grin. "Guess we'll just have to get creative again." I ran my fingers along his torso.

"Means we should take advantage of tonight then, huh?" John responded, his fingers gliding down the sides of my arms and landing on my hips.

"If ye'll get yer damned head on right and stop fuckin' teasin' me," I responded. "What room in this house is as far away from Paul as humanly possible?" I asked.

"Think it might be the sunroom," he said, a smirk rising on his lips.

"Yeah? I think we should go there, then."

"Not like we haven't done it before," he responded, gently pushing me backward toward the hallways.

"Used to be our favorite spot," I added.

"Not sure why we stopped. I quite like it in there." His hands squeezed my hips and he lifted me off of my feet and into his arms, placing his lips against the base of my neck.

"Better not stop that, John. Might cut yer bloody knob off if you do."

"Mm, don't do that, Liss. How'm I supposed to shag ye without me knob?"

"Guess ye ought not to stop then, huh?"

Rain was falling from the sky and I could see it drip down the large, sliding glass doors on the wall opposite where John laid me back on one of the couches. I could hear the faint pattering of it hitting the windows between the grunts that came from my and John's mouths as he worked magic against my neck.

"The sky's so sad," John said after a while, and he moved away from me. I almost screamed in frustration.

"John, what in the hell are you doing?" I asked him. "Thought you liked yer damned knob."

He didn't say a damned word. He walked wordlessly over to the glass doors, and gently cracked them open, amplifying the sounds of the rain outside by about five.

"Shh," he whispered as he came back over to me. "Yer awfully unattractive when you're threatening to chop me prick off." Just a moment later, his words were lost in a sea of pleasure. I forgot all about him stopping because he finally was giving me what I so desperately needed. He loved me so thoroughly just like he always did, and in an instant, all I had worked for in trying to get him erased from my mind in the past few months was gone. All it took was one time, and I was addicted to him all over again.

⊹ ⊹ ⊹

Take another look at that picture and tell me what room that is😏