#dean charles chapman fanfic

[loshijosdebal]

Capítulo VII: La visión de Idgrod

Alicent, Joric e Idgrod se reunieron tras el aserradero al caer la tarde, cuando ya habían cumplido con sus quehaceres. Habían pasado unas tres semanas desde el Festival de la Bruma y, pese al mal presagio, las cosas seguían igual en Morthal. 

Casi todas, pensó Idgrod al reparar en que Alicent miraba una vez más en dirección al camino que unía el aserradero con el pueblo, mientras apretaba ansiosa la falda de su vestido con una mano. Siguió su mirada y la esperanza de su amiga le produjo ternura; la densa niebla ya había caído sobre la comarca y era casi imposible ver nada que no estuviera en un radio de tres metros a la redonda.

—¿Habéis quedado otra vez? 

A Alicent se le escapó una sonrisa y asintió. Desde el festival, cada vez que Seth visitaba Morthal buscaba un rato que pasar con ella. Aunque al principio no le había hecho gracia la idea, su presencia había ayudado a su amiga a sobrellevar el hecho de no haber podido hacer su ofrenda anual.

—Pasó antes por la tienda para preguntar por los huevos de cabro. —Idgrod apretó los labios para no reír por la forma en que Alicent llamó a los cauros. Pero no dijo nada, para no avergonzarla—. Se fue rápido, pero prometió que luego vendría a buscarme.

Idgrod miró a su hermano de reojo, notando que apretaba los puños con un enfado que se reflejaba en su mandíbula tensa.

—De verdad que no sé qué le ves, Ali. Da miedo, con esa mirada fría parece que te quiere robar el alma. —Su expresión se tornó teatral, y un escalofrío fingido recorrió su espalda—. Y esa sonrisita falsa —siguió—, me pone de los nervios. Ese tipo no es trigo limpio, escuchad lo que os digo.

Idgrod vio como su amiga se ponía a la defensiva. Ahí van otra vez.

—Para ya de hablar mal de él, Joric —protestó Alicent en un tono infantil—. Solo intenta ser amable y hacer amigos, ¡no te ha hecho nada!

—Por su culpa no pudimos hacer nuestra ofrenda, ¿¡te parece poco!? 

Idgrod intervino antes de que volvieran una vez más sobre el mismo tema. Habían discutido aquello al menos siete veces desde el festival.

—Chicos, parad de una vez. De verdad, empiezo a no saber cuál de los dos está más obsesionado con Seth.

Ambos se cruzaron de brazos y desviaron la mirada, cada uno a un lado. Se formó un silencio incómodo que se prolongó varios minutos. Entonces tuvo una idea. Quizá no era la mejor broma del mundo dado el contexto, pero no pudo resistirse.

Quedó inmóvil, como paralizada. Tensó los músculos de su cuerpo y entrecerró los ojos, haciendo todo lo posible por dejarlos en blanco antes de romper a temblar, como si hubiera caído en trance. Su interpretación debió de ser lo bastante creíble, ya que no tardó en sentir que alguien a su espalda la sostenía por los hombros.

—Tranquila, estoy aquí —murmuró su hermano con tono protector.

Se sintió un poco culpable por lo que estaba haciendo, pero ya no tenía sentido echarse atrás. Empezó a hablar con voz trémula.

—Alicent, te veo cruzando el templo de Mara. Y ahí está Seth junto al altar, esperándote. Pero, ¡oh no! Joric irrumpe en el templo, espada en mano, listo para desafiar a Seth por tu mano.

Relajó la mirada, curiosa por ver sus expresiones. No pudo ver a Joric, que seguía a su espalda, pero Alicent la miraba con el ceño fruncido y los labios entreabiertos, confundida. Aquello le arrancó una carcajada que fue incapaz de contener. 

Joric la soltó de golpe al escuchar su risa, y cuando se giró vio el reproche en su expresión dolida. 

—No tiene gracia, idiota —masculló con la voz ronca—. ¿Sabéis qué? Me vuelvo a casa. Tengo que hacer algunas cosas. 

—Oh, vamos Joric. No seas enfadica. 

Joric se limitó a alzar una mano reafirmando su despedida, antes de perderse entre la niebla. Idgrod intercambió con Alicent una mirada cargada de remordimiento. 

—¿Crees que me he pasado?

Alicent no sabía mentir y desvió la mirada.

—Sí… pero creo que yo también. No debería hablar de Seth cuando estamos con Joric…, ¿verdad?

Idgrod se acercó para abrazarla; Alicent era la persona más dulce y empática que conocía. Incluso en aquella situación, no podía evitar sentirse mal por herir los sentimientos de Joric a pesar de que este no tenía ningún reparo en intentar boicotear su relación con Seth.

—A Joric le gustas mucho, Ali —confesó sin romper el abrazo—. Vas a tener que ser paciente con él. 

—Pero a mi me gusta Seth —replicó Alicent con un tono cargado de culpa, alejándose un poco para hacer contacto visual. 

Sus manos quedaron sobre los hombros de Alicent y rodó los ojos.

—No me digas. No lo había notado.

En ese momento, una figura cobró forma entre la niebla. Idgrod afinó la mirada con la esperanza de ver volver a su hermano pero, en su lugar, vio llegar a Seth Athan. Intentó avisar a Alicent con un gesto mudo.

—¿Interrumpo algo? —preguntó al llegar hasta ellas. Seth tenía una sonrisa apretada, como si algo le estuviera haciendo gracia. Por un momento, Idgrod dudó si habría escuchado algo de lo que hablaban. 

Dejó caer las manos de los hombros de Alicent al tiempo que esta giró como un resorte para saludar a Seth.

—No —se apuró a decir, sin quitarle la vista de encima. Sonreía como no lo había hecho en toda la tarde—. Te estaba esperando. 

Seth, por su parte, destensó la sonrisa al escucharla y le tendió el brazo a Alicent. Aquella situación la hizo sentir incómoda. Alzó la mano para saludar a Seth, pero también dispuesta a despedirse de ambos. Cuando su amiga vio su gesto, abrió mucho los ojos y miró a Seth, haciendo uno de sus pucheros. Siempre ponía esa expresión cuando quería algo.

—Seth, ¿qué te parece si hoy nos quedamos con Idgrod? Así os podéis conocer mejor, aprovechando que no está Joric.

Seth asintió sin necesidad de pensarlo, como si la idea le pareciera estupenda. Idgrod sintió cierto alivio ante la oportunidad que se abría. Tenía sus reservas sobre la relación de Seth y Alicent; ella era dulce y un poco ingenua. Le preocupaba que él pudiera aprovecharse de eso. Con un poco de suerte, aquella tarde podría salir de dudas. 

Seth tomó asiento en uno de los troncos y Alicent no tardó en ir a su lado. Ella, por su parte, se quedó de pie, frente a ambos.

—¿Qué tal estás llevando todo lo del festival? —empezó Idgrod. 

Seth la miró como si no supiera a qué se refería. 

—¿Lo del festival?

—La gente sigue hablando de lo que pasó. Y de ti. Imagino que no están siendo muy amables —se explicó.

—Ah, eso. Sí, pero mientras Ali y tú no hagáis caso de lo que digan, todo irá bien.

Idgrod se volvió hacia Alicent, que seguía sin apartar los ojos de Seth. Desde que había llegado parecía como si para ella no hubiera nadie más que él. Podía entenderlo; Seth no solo era atractivo, sino que también cuidaba mucho su apariencia. Joric tenía un punto en lo referente al peinado; de algún modo Seth conseguía estar siempre impoluto, incluso tras haber cabalgado a Morthal desde el Cerro.  

—Sigo pensando que es muy injusto —intervino Alicent—. Tú tampoco pudiste hacer tu ofrenda.

Tras el comentario, se formó un silencio que cayó con tanta pesadez como lo hacía la bruma sobre Morthal. Idgrod pensó en su hermano y en su amiga, en el peligro que se cernía sobre ambos. Comprendió por la expresión de Alicent que ella estaba pensando en lo mismo.

Seth rompió el silencio.

—¿De verdad os sentís tan inseguras por ello? 

—Los ritos son importantes por algo. No cumplir con ellos trae consecuencias. Siempre lo hace, ¿por qué si no iba a haber tanta literatura al respecto?

Seth resopló. 

—Lo sé, pero… ¿no os parece sospechosa la fecha del festival? 

—¿Qué le pasa a la fecha? —preguntó Idgrod.

—Coincide con el día de Mephala —explicó él.

—¿Mephala? —repitió Alicent. 

—Es la daedra de las mentiras, los secretos y las conspiraciones —respondió Idgrod, todavía mirando a Seth contrariada—. Pero eso no tiene sentido… 

—Si lo piensas bien, al hacer la ofrenda revelas parte de tus temores. Cualquier seguidor de Mephala encontraría muy interesante esa información. 

Buscó la forma de rebatir su tesis, pero no se le ocurrió nada. Seth tenía razón. No sabía cómo se le había podido pasar por alto aquello. Lo miró impresionada. Tener a alguien en el grupo que compartiera sus intereses intelectuales era algo nuevo y estimulante.

—Pues es verdad —admitió Idgrod.

—Seth sabe mucho sobre daedras —dijo Alicent inocentemente. 

—¿Lo hace? —Idgrod intercaló una mirada entre su amiga y Seth, quien sonrió.

—Mi tutor me enseñó todo lo que consideró necesario para poder desenvolverme en el mundo. 

—¿Y entre esas cosas había todo un capítulo sobre daedra?

Seth se encogió de hombros, restándole importancia.

—Y aedra. 

—¿Cuál es la diferencia? —quiso saber Alicent. 

La pregunta consiguió irritar un poco a Idgrod. Seth se dio cuenta y se adelantó. 

—Daedra lleva una d al principio y aedra no lleva nada —comentó en broma, arrancándole una sonrisa a Alicent—. No, pero, hablando en serio, podría decirse que la diferencia fundamental es que, mientras que los aedra no suelen intervenir directamente en el mundo, a los daedra les encanta entrometerse en la vida de los mortales. 

Aquello hizo sentir a Idgrod un poco más cómoda. Tal vez se había preocupado por nada y a Seth realmente le gustaba Alicent, dedujo por la paciencia y la forma en que se lo había explicado. Además, Alicent le estaba prestando atención, algo que ni ella misma había conseguido. Quizá Seth fuera una buena influencia después de todo. 

—Pero Akatosh se manifestó durante la crisis de Oblivion —apuntó Alicent. 

Su comentario, exacto y oportuno, sorprendió a Idgrod. Seth también la miró con curiosidad, como si no se creyera que ella hubiera dicho aquello. 

—¿Y tú cómo sabes eso? —preguntó Idgrod. 

—Por un cuento. Mi padre me lo contaba cada noche antes de dormir —respondió Alicent ofendida, probablemente porque parecieran tan extrañados de que ella también supiera cosas. 

Idgrod intercambió una mirada perpleja con Seth. No conocía ningún cuento sobre aquel hecho histórico. 

—¿Recuerdas cómo se llama? —preguntó.

—Qué va. ¿Nunca os lo han contado? —Idgod y Seth negaron a la vez—. Qué raro… ¿A vosotros qué cuentos os contaban? 

—Pues… Sobre todo de Hermaeus Mora —respondió Idgrod—. Por las visiones.

Seth, que había estado escuchando en silencio, la miró de pronto con súbito interés. 

—Hablando de eso, Idgrod…, la visión que tuviste el día que nos conocimos ¿podría estar relacionada con lo que pasó durante el festival?

Idgrod miró hacia Alicent instintivamente. Su amiga la miraba con curiosidad, y también con un ligero reproche. No le había hablado de aquella visión. No porque le gustara guardar secretos, sino porque no había querido asustarla. No pudo evitar lanzar una mirada cargada de reproche a Seth, que alzó ambas manos.

—Discúlpame si he hablado de más. Imaginaba que se lo habrías contado. 

Idgrod negó con un suspiro, restándole importancia al asunto. Hundió los hombros y cerró los ojos, buscando la mejor forma de compartir con ellos lo que había visto. Ya no tenía sentido seguir ocultándolo. 

—El mes pasado tuve una visión, Ali. No te lo había contado porque la visión no es del todo clara y no te quería preocupar —se justificó.

Alicent asintió y miró a Seth de reojo con nerviosismo, pero él no se dio cuenta. Tenía los antebrazos sobre las pantorrillas, y la miraba con sumo interés.

—¿Qué viste? —preguntó él.

—Como decía, fue algo confuso. Mi madre insistió en que probablemente no sería nada pero… había fuego, gritos y magia —tragó saliva y desvió la mirada un instante, antes de clavar los ojos en los de Seth—. Magia negra. 

A Alicent se le escapó un gritito de horror y se tapó la boca con ambas manos. 

—Nigromantes —dijo en un susurro lo bastante alto como para que ambos pudieran oírlo. Idgrod asintió lentamente y Alicent volvió a hablar, ahora en un tono más alto— ¿Por qué no dijiste nada antes?

—Me imagino que la jarl querría mantener la información en secreto para no alarmar al pueblo —intervino Seth. 

Quiso dedicarle un gesto de gratitud, pero él había pasado un brazo por los hombros de Alicent y ambos intercambiaron una mirada; la de ella, asustada, contrastaba con la seguridad de la de él. A Idgrod le dio la impresión de que estaban teniendo una conversación sin necesidad de intercambiar palabras. Que Alicent se relajara un poco en lugar de romper a llorar se lo confirmó.

En cuanto pareció más calmada, Seth la soltó para volver a centrarse en el tema. 

—¿Cómo puedes estar tan segura de que era magia negra? —preguntó con seriedad.

Idgrod apretó los labios. Había evitado a propósito el detalle más escabroso de la historia, pero Seth no parecía dispuesto a pasar nada por alto. Quizá sea la actitud más adecuada si queremos estar preparados para lo que viene.

—Los padres de Agni estaban allí. Pero… No estaban como siempre. Estaban reanimados, lo sé. 

—¿Reanimados? —preguntó él.

—Era como si sus ojos no tuvieran vida. Daban miedo. 

Recordar aquello le provocó un escalofrío. Seth entrecerró los ojos, su expresión seguía cargada de interrogantes.

—¿Viste algo más? ¿Algún detalle que nos pueda ser de ayuda? 

Idgrod se esforzó por hacer memoria, repasando una vez más el batiburrillo de imágenes que habían asaltado su mente en aquel día. Al forzarse a recordar, cayó en algo en lo que no había reparado antes y abrió mucho los ojos.

—¡La nieve! —exclamó mirando a Seth— La nieve empezaba a fundirse, pero todavía cubría el suelo. Eso solo puede significar que ocurrirá…

—Justo después de mi cumpleaños —la cortó Alicent con un hilo de voz. Idgrod la miró y notó que temblaba. En aquel rato, sus ojos se habían empañado—. Yo no quiero que un nigromante me robe el alma, Seth. No quiero que mi alma vaya a Puerto Gélido.

Idgrod frunció el ceño, preguntándose qué clase de historias le había contado Seth. No obstante no le dio más importancia de la cuenta. Él había demostrado cierta pasión por la mitología, así que supuso que le habría hablado de Molag Bal tras el festival. Sin embargo, no le terminó de gustar que le hubiera hablado de aquello a Alicent. Mucho menos, después de lo ocurrido. Claro que Seth no la conocía como ella lo hacía. Quizá debería intercambiar con él unas palabras si aquel par pretendía seguir compartiendo tiempo.

Entre tanto, Seth había tomado el mentón de Alicent, que ahora lo miraba con las emociones a flor de piel aunque intentando reprimir el llanto.

—Shh, Ali, ¿qué te he dicho yo? —preguntó con un tono firme.

 Ella intentó responder, pero se le quebró la voz. Necesitó un segundo intento.

—Que no me pasará nada mientras estemos juntos.

Seth cabeceó secamente, como afirmación.

—Morir a manos de un nigromante es una de las cosas más horribles que te podrían pasar, ¿crees que dejaría que te ocurriera algo así?

Idgrod frunció el ceño. Aunque las intenciones de Seth fueran buenas, su elección de palabras había sido terrible. Le bastó una mirada para confirmar que habían asustado a Alicent más de lo que la había aliviado. Tanto que la joven finalmente rompió a llorar. Fue a abrazarla por instinto, pero Seth se adelantó. Alicent buscó refugio en su pecho.

—Lo siento, no quería asustarte —se disculpó él, acariciando su espalda.

Idgrod se quedó ahí sin saber qué hacer además de luchar contra la estúpida sensación de celos que le había entrado al sentirse desplazada por él. Así que empezó a caminar de un lado a otro, inquieta. 

—Ali, ninguno dejaremos que te pase nada malo. Encontraremos el modo de que estés a salvo —prometió, intentando ayudar.

 —Además, las visiones de Idgrod no siempre tienen que cumplirse ¿verdad?

Seth la miró fijamente, esperando su respuesta. Idgrod dejó de caminar y desvió la mirada. No tenía sentido mentir. No cuando Alicent ya sabía la verdad de primera mano. 

—Siempre lo hacen —respondió Alicent, aún con la voz cortada.

—Siempre hay una primera vez para todo. No pienso permitir que un puñado de nigromantes tome Morthal.

La voz de Seth fue seca, tajante. Tanto que a ella misma le sorprendió. Era como si aquello le hubiera afectado de un modo personal. Volvió a mirarlos a tiempo de ver a Seth de pie y a Alicent con los brazos todavía alzados hacia al chico.

Seth se alejó unos pasos en dirección al camino que bordeaba el aserradero antes de volverse hacia ellas. Idgrod escrutó su expresión; era seria y estaba llena de determinación. También había algo más. Parecía molesto. O enfadado. Pero aquello no tenía demasiado sentido; a fin de cuentas, acababa de mudarse al pueblo, ¿por qué le habría de afectar aquello tanto? 

—Tengo que irme —se intentó despedir él.

Pero Alicent se levantó y fue tras él, volviendo a abrazarlo.

—Quédate un rato más, por favor.

Él la separó, tomándola de los hombros. La miró a los ojos, sin ablandarse. 

—No puedo. Lo siento. Hay algunas cosas que debo hacer. 

Tras estas palabras, soltó a Alicent y, por último, miró a Idgrod y se despidió con un cabeceo antes de girar sobre sí. Echó a caminar e, igual que había llegado, Seth Athan desapareció entre la niebla.

En un claro de bosque bañado por la luz crepuscular, tres jóvenes se encuentran en medio de una reunión secreta. La escena se centra en Idgrod, una joven con expresión intensa, ojos cerrados y manos levantadas como si recibiera mensajes del más allá. A su alrededor, Alicent y Joric observan con una mezcla de asombro y escepticismo. La atmósfera es tensa, cargada de expectativa. A pesar de la seriedad del momento, un atisbo de sonrisa juguetona se asoma en los labios de Idgrod, insinuando que todo es parte de una elaborada broma. El entorno está envuelto en una tenue niebla, añadiendo un aire de misterio y anticipación. Esta imagen debe capturar el momento justo antes de que Idgrod revele la verdad, jugando con la dualidad entre lo sagrado y lo profano, lo místico y lo mundano.

Imagina una escena de tarde, tras el aserradero de una villa medieval a orillas de un río cenagoso, donde una chica adolescente de piel blanca, pelo castaño oscuro y lacio, cara larga y ojos pequeños está de pie y finge tener una premonición. Pone los ojos en blanco, finge temblar y parece estar en trance. A su espalda, su hermano varón la sujeta por los hombros, preocupado por su hermana.

#fanfic #skyrim #morthal #vampiros #darkromance #juvenil #magia #tes #molagbal #nigromantes #libros #bella ramsey #dean charles chapman

[a-skeleton-of-something-m0re]

Cockney Kisses

Warnings: Smut, smoking.

Word count: 4,298

Summary: You and Dean had broken up a couple of months ago, but at a random dinner party you see him for the first time since you split, and you're far from over him and it seems like he's not really over you either.

A/N: Smut is between the asterisks (*) so you can skip it or skip right to it, as you prefer. Please let me know if you spot any typos, missing words, wrong verb forms, and so on, so I can fix it.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25793386

Arriving at the dinner party you didn't quite know what to expect. Your head was somewhere else, for the past month you had been feeling quite empty and disconnected, unsure if it had anything to do with the breakup you had gone through 3 months prior. You really liked Dean, and now looking back you had no idea what had happened that might have led you two apart. Were you too different? , you wondered, was it him that didn't like you anymore? Was it you that stopped liking him?. No, that wasn't it, you still thought about him all the time, you still had so much love for him...

Amidst your musings you were met with the man of your dreams, in all the senses of the phrase. There he was, right there in front of you, in the flesh. In a black suit that fitted him perfectly, his hair done all nice and smooth, he always looked so handsome in a suit. You hadn't seen him since you broke up.

He looked at you and smiled, that gorgeous, sweet smile of his that you had no idea you missed so much. You felt your heart tighten with longing for Dean, you were far from over him. He approached you, placed a hand on the exposed skin of your arm and kissed your cheek, you couldn't help but blush a little at the touch and suddenly you felt so shy, like you were meeting him for the first time. All the intimacy you two had shared, whether it be in the form of shared bodies in the bedroom or in the form of disclosed secrets and innermost thoughts, came flooding through your mind.

And now it was like you were old acquaintances, making small talk at a random event.

"Hi, how have you been?", he asked with a smile, and you thought you saw the faintest slight of pink tingeing his cheeks.

You smiled back shyly and replied "Good, how about you?"

You both stood there a little awkwardly, trying to make small talk for a couple more minutes before you went back to your respective friend groups to spend the rest of the evening.

After dinner, as always, you sneaked up to the top of the building, sometimes all you had was a remote corner of a bar or room or  a quiet garden somewhere, or wherever place you could find that was the most secluded at an event. You weren't really one for parties, always hated crowds, would much rather have small, intimate gatherings with people you actually knew and liked.

You sat on the cold cement floor of the rooftop overlooking the night sky and the city lights, such a beautiful and peaceful scenery. You instantly felt more relaxed. You fixed the smooth fabric of your long black dress over your legs, covering them completely, and hugged your knees.

It was chilly, not too much, but enough to make your arms cold. After a while you hear the door to the rooftop open and close, you didn't look back to peep at the person, the roof was big enough for someone to go over to the other side and not even notice you.

But soon after, you hear feet approaching and someone sits down beside you. You finally glance sideways and see Dean on your right, a cigarette in his mouth and his signature cheeky smile.

"Thought you might be here...", he said, the words partially muffled due to the cigarette in his mouth. He took a lighter out of the pocket of his suit jacket and lit it up, covering it until the tip ignited like a little ember and joined the tiny city lights.

You turned away, looking at your feet, lightly scraping the cement with the tip of your shoe.

"You always did have a weird sixth sense for finding me...", you say, still looking down.

"Thought you had quit.", you added, pointing at the cigarette.

He gives you a sad smile and shrugs, saying "Some things never change, I guess...".

You looked back down again, a comfortable silence taking over for a few minutes.

He brushed the back of his fingers against your arm, checking to see if you were cold, the warmth of his hand contrasting with your chilly skin, the gesture so nonchalant, like it was a regular thing to do to ex-girlfriends.

Silently, he removed his jacket and placed it over your shoulders, trying to cover as much of your arms as he could. You thanked him, not even attempting to decline his kind gesture and the comfort it brought you. He used to do this all the time when you were together, he knew you weren't cold per se but your arms always got chilly. Besides, it had an emotional warmth to it, the heat of his body and his scent still lingering on the jacket always made you feel much more at ease after a long night of dealing with too many people. You smiled at the memories, you missed having someone in your life that cared that much about you.

You looked at Dean, eyeing him up and down, he looked gorgeous in that suit...

"Looking very dapper...", you said with a smile, "Gonna have to set up a queue for all the ladies tonight...", you added.

He chuckled, taking a drag of the cigarette and slowly exhaling the smoke through his mouth.

"Thanks.",  he said with a coy smile, the word coming out charged with his characteristic cockney accent. "Highly doubt it, though... Haven't had much luck in that department lately...", he added, eyes glued to the city ahead.

You turn your head forward, looking at the skyline, unable to hold the slight smile tugging at your lips, you couldn't help but feel a little glad at the fact that he probably hadn't been with anyone else since you broke up, too. It was kind of selfish of you, but the pang of guilt quickly faded.

"Well, that makes two of us.", you confess with a sigh.

"The ladies giving you a hard time too?", he asks mockingly.

You chuckle at the corny joke that you were already half expecting.

"Haven't had much luck in any department really...", you mumbled. "But I especially miss sex...", you confess with an ironic chuckle, unsure if it was the champagne taking advantage of your low alcohol tolerance, or the actual fact that you hadn't shaboinked since you and Dean broke up.

And now he was right there, looking utterly heavenly in that suit, smoking like he didn't have a care in the world and you knew what his lips would taste like if you kissed, slightly like alcohol mixed with the faintest taste of smoke; And his neck would smell like his cologne, that he always applied on all the recommended pulse points, and if you buried your face in his dress shirt you would smell the smoke there too, and the light scent of the detergent from his regular dry-cleaner's, and God... You just really wanted him right now.

You must have been staring at him like a hungry wolf, but he didn't seem to mind. A knowing smirk gracing his lips when he met your gaze, electricity pulsing in the air between you. You were almost sure he knew what was going through your head, he had a knack for guessing what you were thinking sometimes.

He looked down, expelling another cloud of smoke, that smirk still lingering on his face. "Yeah, I miss that too... Haven't been with anyone since we broke up.", he said, looking at the sky ahead.

Silence falls between you once again. Both of you unsure what to say next.

"So... You still living Isaac?", you ask after a while, trying to sound casual like there wasn't an ulterior motive hiding behind the question.

"No, he moved out a month ago.", he replied, exhaling smoke towards the city sky. "Why? Wanna pay me a visit one of these days?", he asked cheekily, sending you a side glance, that stupid, delicious smirk still marking his features.

You look over at him, smiling and blushing slightly before you say "I was thinking more like tonight...".

 [...]

 Now you were in his bedroom, both of you busy with taking your respective shoes and socks off, Dean on one side of the bed and you on the other, like you were just a regular couple coming home after a night out, were it not for the slight nervousness hanging in the air.

"I'm gonna cum embarrassingly fast.", you say blatantly, opening the zipper on your high heels.

"Well, that makes two of us.", he replied with a smile, "But we've got all night.", he added in a low tone.

You climbed on the bed, resting on your knees, facing him, Dean did the same on the other side, one of his hands reached for his tie as his fingers expertly worked the knot, slowly removing it, his eyes deliberately fixed on yours while he did it. His suit pants and dress shirt were still on as he approached you till you were only a few inches apart.

(*)

He grabbed your hips and pulled you in even closer, heat seeping in from his hands through the thin fabric of your dress and spreading through your whole body. He placed his forehead against yours, you could feel his breath on your lips, your hands slid all the way from his lower abdomen to rest on his chest, his breath quickening at the contact.

He moved to kiss your cheek and made his way to your ear, playfully nibbling on it, making your breath hitch, a smirk formed on his face from seeing he still had an effect on you.

He kissed the place bellow your ear and whispered "I missed you so much...", putting his head in the crook of your neck and inhaling your scent while wrapping his arms around you with a sigh, like someone who finally arrived home after a long day.

You felt how his body instinctively relaxed as you wrapped your arms tightly around his neck, revelling in the feeling of just being able to hold him like this again, the embrace unusually sweet and innocent in comparison to the reason that brought you to his room in the first place.

"I missed you terribly, you have no idea...", you replied, hugging him tighter.

Minutes passed until Dean broke the embrace to finally place his lips on yours, his kiss soft and slow but sensual, his hands grabbing your face eagerly, your fingers wrapping around his wrists with just as much fervour. Lips parting only when you both ran out of breath, smiling and staring at each other like two kids who had just discovered kissing, before you dipped in for another kiss, this one slightly more hungry.

Your first kiss in months and you would be content with just doing this, just kissing him for hours, nothing else, and you would die a happy woman.

He sucked on your bottom lip, giving it a playful nibble before he slipped his tongue into your mouth clashing it with yours, massaging it with his own. His hands slid all the way from your face to your hips, and then moved to squeeze your ass, pushing your bodies even closer, until your hips met. Your lips parted, both of you breathless, your hands, that had moved to Dean's neck when he released your face, made their way to the buttons on his dress shirt, slowly opening them one by one and then as slowly untucking the shirt from his pants, the feeling of it being dragged away against his boxer briefs was enough to make him suck a breath, and a mischievous grin spread across your face as you kissed him once more.

Your hands slid under his shirt and glided from his lower abdomen, up to his chest and then to his shoulders where you slipped the shirt down his arms and threw it to the floor, your lips still connected, your tongues rolling over each other.

You undid his belt, then slowly dragged the zipper down, making sure your fingers brushed lightly against his crotch, the touch making him even harder. You pulled the pants down as further as they would go and Dean broke the kiss, clumsily sitting on the bed to eagerly pull his pants all the way down as fast as he could and threw them to the floor.

He got back on his knees, smiling at your amused expression before he grabbed your hips again with need and pulled them flush against his, your hands grabbing his biceps for steadiness. He brushed his lips against yours, teasing you simultaneously by not giving you his mouth and by pressing his hardness against you, making you squeeze his biceps harder.

Desperate with need, you moved your hands to the back of his head, pulling it down so you could crash your lips against his, your fingers dived in his smooth hair and lightly tugged on it, the action eliciting a small groan from Dean.

He moved his hands to the hem of your dress, trying to get it off, you lifted your knees to help him slide it from under your legs and up and over your raised arms, leaving you both now only in your underwear.

His hands quickly returned to your body, now skin on skin, his touch burned as he slowly slid them all the way from your shoulders down to your lower back, digging his fingers into the skin there, while his tongue continued to move against yours.

He splayed his hands dragging them back up your back, stopping in the middle to unclasp your bra and then gently pulling each strap down your shoulders before removing it completely. His gaze closely following his movements.

His eyes met yours again before he kissed your lips, his hands made their way down from your collarbones to your hips, thumbs absentmindedly brushing your nipples on the way down before coming to rest below your ribcage, his fingers grasping the skin hungrily, before sliding back up to your chest to massage your breasts and caress your nipples with the tip of his thumbs, making them obediently perk up at the touch.

He moved his kisses to your jaw line,  and then to your neck, where he licked and sucked the delicate skin there, making you gasp. He continued his path down, leaving a trail of fresh love bites all the way to your breasts while your nails ran through his back softly, leaving a trail of goose bumps in their wake.

You grabbed the back of his neck, thumbs hooking under his jaw, eagerly pulling him back up to your lips, your tongue invading his mouth and swirling around his while one of your hands slid between his legs, slowly stroking him over his black boxer briefs.

His breath quickened, his mouth becoming ajar, you took this opportunity to leave open mouthed kisses all over his jaw and down his neck, nibbling on his collarbone, making your way down, while one of  his hands moved from your nape to your hair, tugging at the roots lightly.

You moved your hands down his sides and slipped them under his boxer briefs, giving his ass a playful squeeze. He looked down at you smiling, still panting, you looked up at him returning the smile and teasingly bit his belly making him wince, you removed his underwear and pushed him on the bed, quickly straddling him and slowly rolling  your hips against his, his hands squeezing your thighs hard.

He bucked his hips up making you slightly lose your balance, and used it as an opportunity to move his hands to your hip bones and roll you over, pinning you underneath him, his hands let go of your wrists and his fingers moved to lace with yours while his head dipped in to give you a slow, passionate kiss.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pushing his hips down against yours so you could rub yourself against his hard length.

Dean breaks the kiss and takes off your only remaining piece of underwear. He quickly puts two fingers into his mouth before he brings them to your clit, rubbing it, making you arch your back and grind against his hand. His lips connect with yours again as he slides his fingers down to your soaked entrance and inserts one, slowly moving it inside and out a few of times before adding another, his palm still rubbing your clit.

"Please, just get inside me...", you plead, looking up at him. He flashes a smile and gives you a quick peck on the lips before grabbing a condom from the bedside table and putting it on.

He positions himself between your legs and uses one of his hands to guide his length as he, very slowly, sinks in to you.

"Fuck...", he mutters under his breath as your tight warmth envelops him, one of his hands going up to grip the sheets next to your head while the other remained on your hip.

You grab onto him, fingers digging into his hips. He slowly pulls back and eases in again, his forehead coming to rest against yours as you exchange breathless kisses.

He repeats the movement, his hips setting up a slow pace as his hands fly to your neck, thumbs delicately caressing your throat, your pulse beating rapidly underneath them as his mouth consumed yours.

You moan into his mouth, your hands running through his back as your legs wrap tighter around his waist, pulling him closer and deeper.

He moves his weight to one of his elbows, his other hand gripping your thigh as his hips continue to draw slow thrusts into you, your breaths heavy as you lock eyes, the intimacy between the two of you had never left, neither did your love and admiration for each other, all of those feelings and more now coming up to the surface and flooding through you.

He dips in for another deep kiss, one of your hands moving from the back of his neck and into his hair, the other gripping onto his shoulder blade.

He picks up the pace, his hips thrusting into you faster, a thin sheen of sweat covered your entwined bodies, Dean's cheeks starting to flush red from the effort and the pleasure.

His fingers digging hard into the skin of your hips, the friction caused by the closeness of your bodies stimulating you in time with his thrusts, pushing you dangerously close to the edge.

"Fuck, I'm so close...", you mutter breathlessly, true to your words earlier on.

You feel him smirk against the crook of your neck, he places an open mouthed kiss there, then licks a stripe up to your ear, nibbling on the lobe, making you shiver with pleasure, his hips continuing to slam into yours.

He pulls up, now supporting his weight on his knees, your bodies still linked as he slows down his thrusts, his hands gripping the junction of where your hips meet your legs. You gasp at the loss of friction and reach for his now distant body, slowly raking your nails through his stomach and then placing your hands atop his.

A provocative smile plays on his lips as he lazily rolls his hips into yours, not giving you what you want, that cocky little teasing bastard... But two can play that game.

You detach yourself from Dean, catching him by surprise, and quickly straddle his lap, making him sit back down on his knees. You kiss him hard, hands gripping the sides of his neck, and then slide one of them down, grabbing his cock and aligning it with your entrance as you slowly sink down onto him, both of you releasing soft moans as the new position got him buried deeper inside you than before.

You ride him slow, your hips moving in lazy circles, his hands move to cup your ass, squeezing it and urging you to move faster, you smirk, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing him once more before you give in to his wishes and pick up the pace.

Both of you now struggling to hold on just a little longer, torn between the need to go slow and enjoy every little detail and the hunger to consume each other, to appease the fire burning inside.

One of your hands reaches for the back of his head, lightly tugging on the soft hair there while the other remains on his neck. He moves his hands up your back, wrapping his arms around you, tightening the embrace, pushing your slick, hot bodies even closer together, your hips now slamming against his.

He tilts his head up to press sloppy kisses on your lips, his cheeks stained red, his forehead covered with a thin layer of sweat, both of you a panting mess. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer to you, it felt like there wasn't enough of him, you wanted even more of him as you slammed your hips down against his even faster.

The feeling of his scorching skin rubbing against yours, hitting all the right spots, the feeling of him inside you, of his strong arms pulling you close against his body were making you fall apart.

Drowning in pleasure, you clench around him, a small moan escaping your lips as Dean thrusts up into you a couple more times, burying his face on your chest and groaning softly as he comes undone.

You both stand there, unmoving, panting for a solid minute before Dean slides his legs from underneath him and lies down with you still on top, your head resting on his chest. He removes himself from you, gets rid of the condom and absentmindedly starts running his fingers through the valley of skin where your spine stretches through.  

Silence hanged in the air, both of you now painfully aware that this was about more than just sex, some raw needs had been fulfilled, but there was still something missing, it was clear you both still loved each other.

Feeling completely blissed out and exhausted you both drifted to sleep.

(*)

[...]

Hours later, after having woken up and made sure you made up for all the lost time in the bedroom, you're now lying naked on the bed face down. With your head resting on your folded arms you turn it sideways in Dean's direction, "Aren't you gonna have a smoke?", you ask playfully.    

He is sitting down, slouching a bit, his head and shoulders pressed against the headboard, his hands resting on the sheet that covered him up to his belly button. His hair a mess, sticking in all directions, but still looking extra smooth despite the work of your lustful fingers.

"I quit.", he finally replied with a sad smile, glancing over at your slightly confused expression before looking away.

The memory of your rooftop encounter earlier, where he had a cigarette between his lips, flashes through your mind.

"I asked a mate for a cigarette so I had an excuse to go to the rooftop without you suspecting it might be just to see you...", he added with a sad smile, slightly embarrassed at the confession.

[...]

More hours passed, but you were both still lying completely naked in bed, bellies down, having a heart to heart like the good ol' days. Your eyelids were heavy, but still you refused to stop looking at each other, like you might not get the chance again. Dean's hand laid on the pillow, under your chin, his thumb lazily stroking it from time to time, while your hand rested on his forearm, your thumb mimicking his actions.  

"I finally finished that script I told you about before, not sure if you remember...", he said hesitantly, his voice deep with sleep, the last part came out so quietly you almost didn't catch it.

"Of  course I do!", you said with a reassuring smile, making a smile pop right back in his face too.

"You would never let me read it, though...", you added with fake resentment. "Can I read it now that it's finished?",  you asked, eyes begging.

"You don't have too, this isn't why you're here for...", he said, a sad tone underlying his words.

"Just let me see!", you replied, stretching out your hand in a 'give it here' motion.

He obeys, reaching for the drawer in his bedside table and taking out a thin pile of scribbled up paper sheets secured on top by a paper clip.

"This is still a rough first draft... It's just... I just... Wanted to see what you think...", he said, holding it away from your open hand.

"It's okay, I've been dying to read it. I'm sure it's good, and what matters the most is that you did it and hopefully enjoyed doing it. It's your first time too, so you can't be too harsh on yourself and expect an Oscar winning screenplay first try, love.", you said sitting up, the affectionate nickname slipping out of your mouth out of habit from when you were together.

He gave you one of those side smiles, the pet name not going by unnoticed, and placed the script in your hand.

He had always been so insecure about his work and everything he did, yet he was so good and always worked so hard, it broke your heart knowing he couldn't see that himself.

You look at the title: "Cockney Kisses: an Essex Western" and chuckle.

"Looks very promising already.", you say smiling, flipping to the first page.

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[georgemackayhey]

Lean On Me

"Can you do something with both George and Dean maybe like seeing the reader cry and comforting her?" "Hiii, could you write a George x reader where they’ve been dating for a while and he’s jealous of her. Love your writing"

Right, so I've gone on and combined these requests because I failed to think up two separate ideas. So here's this monster! Thanks for askin' y'all! Enjoy ♡

w/c: 5k

───※ ·❆· ※───

"We're officially not unofficial!" You announced, clinking your second glass of wine against Dean's tumbler full of whiskey.

You'd been cast as costars in an indie rom-com, and were staying in the middle of nowhere Ireland for a month, to begin filming. Tonight you'd been shown to your separate motel rooms but wound up sharing a drink in yours, catching up and enjoying each others company before tomorrow's first big shoot. And since you'd been seeing George, it didn't take Dean long to ask how his friend was doing.

"What the bloody hell is that supposed to mean?" Dean let out a bright chuckle before taking a swig of his preferred alcohol.

"Well as you know, George is off filming in the US and I'm stuck here, filming with you." You pulled a face but broke out into laughter before your playful disgust could be read. You adored Dean, and there weren't many people you'd rather be stuck in a dingy motel with.  

"Before he left two days ago, we agreed not to see anyone else while we're both so busy. And to keep seeing each other when he's back." You rambled. Dean shifted on his side of the love seat as you shared a drink and conversation.

"Really?" Dean's eyes winded as his smile grew, causing a blush to appear on your cheeks.

"Yeah," You grinned. "I know he wanted to take things slow before diving into a serious relationship, but it sounds like he's ready to pick up the pace." You informed although you figured Dean already knew. They were already the best of friends when you'd come into the picture.

"I'm going to tell you something." Dean leaned in a little closer as if someone might have been listening in. You brought your glass of wine to your lips to prepare for what he might say.

"George has some pretty serious feelings for you. But he's been burned before. There have been one too many girls who wanted him for all the wrong reasons." Dean went on like an older brother, though he was quite the opposite,  "The fact that he's mentioned getting more serious with you is a big deal. I hope you're ready for that because I think you're perfect together. But if you're not-"

"I am, Dean. The last thing I want is to hurt George and I swear to you I won't let that happen." You traced an X over your heart and gave your friend a stern nod, the best promise you had to show.

Your friend snorted a laugh but returned your serious nod as you both silently agreed to have George's best interest at heart.

___

"Action!" Your director shouted through a laugh as you sucked in a deep breath. You were placed at the end of a foothill where the damp grass caused you to slip every time you tried a new take.

Luckily the director got a kick out of your silly little mishap and you'd stopped laughing enough yourself to try the take again for the fourth time.

Dean was standing amongst the rubble of a halfway demolished castle, waiting for you to run into his arms. Your first day of shooting was focused on the climax of the film, and it wasn't hard for either of you to fake years of chemistry for the camera as you'd been friends behind the scenes for months now.

That's why when you finally nailed running into his open arms, prepared to be swept off your feet, you kept on laughing when his foot slipped, sending you both to the dirt.

"You weren't supposed to do that!" You laughed. "We finally almost had it! I was depending on you." You fake cried, while Dean apologized through bouts of laughter.

"Take ten, we'll suss it out!" Our director laughed while a small crew scurried to help you up and clean up your costumes of dust.

After finally getting the final shoot right, you were sent off to change and grab dinner with the rest of the crew.

The middle of nowhere Ireland didn't have much to offer, so the company you kept became even more valuable.

Behind Dean, you followed the director and his wife into an unassuming pub, where you ordered drinks. You sat close together and spoke about what you'd gotten right on set and how you hoped for scenes in the future to turn out, now that you'd started bringing your characters to life.

When your extra-large drinks came, you took a selfie with the pints and followed Dean's strict orders to text the photo to George.

"Tell him I love him and wish that he was my leading lady, instead." Dean teased.

"Well, we'll just see if I catch you when you slip up next time!" You feigned offense while you formed a text to George. Under the photo of you and his dear friend, you wrote:

You're missing all the fun! But I'm missing you more. Hope your day on set is going well xx

You hadn't quite reached the heart-eye emoji stage, with George, but all you wanted to do was flood his message thread with sappy saying. Delivering all your romantic lines today was made easier if you thought of saying them to George. You couldn't wait for the film to end so that you might have the chance to actually kick off what you'd started with the man.

You met George at the Golden Globes, at one of the after-parties. Your agent knew his and you'd been wanting to congratulate the stars of such a groundbreaking film, anyhow. George and Dean were sort of a packaged deal that night, but by some miracle, you'd been left with George to finish off your free cocktails and talk about how the music was much too loud.

You went home with a funny feeling in your chest, thankful that you got to spend an hour chatting away with the handsome man, knowing you'd only gotten extremely lucky.

But not long after then, you met George again. He was all alone in a coffee shop on the lot of a studio you'd both been filming on opposite sides of. He offered you a seat across the tiny table from him, where you sipped your drinks and dove into conversation like you'd known each other for years before then.

That was the day you realized you had feelings for George, when you swore his bright eyes lingered on your lips. When he asked if you were going to some silly Hollywood party. You said yes, even though you hadn't planned on it before then.

That's how things kept going with George, for a while. You'd run into each other at events and waste the rest of those evenings sharing passing thoughts and strong opinions. Around the third or fourth run in, you got the guts to compliment his suits and the way he laughed. He finally invited you to a party you wouldn't have otherwise known about.

It was someone's birthday, and every surface of their mansion had been turned into a minibar. Dean was there, and when George left you two to find some drinks that weren't just straight vodka, Dean asked what was going on between you and his best mate. George had clearly been smitten, but you'd yet to discuss anything like that with each other.

With a push from Dean, George asked you on a Sunday morning stroll along the lake, your first official date, both glad to finally be able to call what you'd been doing more than "hanging out." That was the day you'd found out about each other's upcoming films. When George held your hand on the park bench. When you agreed to keep seeing each other when you'd finished all your work. Agreeing to keep up as many late-night chats as you possibly could, while you were worlds apart.

___

You woke up not so long after you'd fallen asleep to your phone buzzing on the nightstand. You worried you'd missed your morning alarms but a new sort of excitement took over your nerves when you realized George was calling.

"Hello?" You answered, happily snuggling back into your motel bed.

"I'm sorry, love did I wake you?" George worried, his use of a pet name causing your heart to flip.

"Well yeah, but I'm glad you did. We aren't filming until tomorrow afternoon. How's America, then?" You wondered, peering out of the crack in your curtains. The night was dark, and the light from the motel sign reflected off of the crew's cars in the lot. You heard laughter in the distance and wondered what kind of fun you were missing out on.

"It's nice. We're actually ahead of schedule. I might not be here as long as I planned." George spoke up, and you thought you heard him smile.

"Is that good news?" You wondered. He seemed so excited to head off overseas and start working again, even if his role was only small.

"I think so. Means I'm closer to getting to see you." George said, his voice was warmer and more inviting than all the blankets you were currently wrapped up in.

"That's very good news indeed, then!" You grinned. "But you know I think Dean misses you most of all, and that's really saying something." You joked, thinking about all the conversations you'd had about George since you'd been filming together.

George's delicate laughter was music to your ears. He asked you to send his sappiest greetings to Dean and the pair of you went on telling stories about your days on set. George seemed to be getting on with his castmates and enjoying his work. You were glad to hear it and made sure he knew that you and Dean were having the best of times as well.

You wanted to end the call with George by expressing how dearly you missed him, but something stopped you. Maybe it was your conversation with Dean from before when he warned you how cautious George was to move too quickly in relationships. You figured keeping in touch while so far apart counted for a lot, and settled for wishing George a happy sleep before you hung up to shut your eyes again.

___

As you wrapped up filming in Ireland, you and Dean had become rather inseparable. Since you'd been acting alongside each other almost exclusively, you were a little nervous how filming back in London was going to go. There was a new set of cast members to finish filming with, and you and Dean had developed some kind of secret language you worried might seem off-putting to everyone else.

You didn't want to be the costar known for picking favorites, so you tried your utmost to get on just as well with the folks meant to play your family members and friends.

That meant spending time off the set, going to dinner and hosting game nights when the chance arose. Granted, you and Dean often paired up to beat everyone at Monopoly, you were still succeeding in getting on with everyone.

"Tomorrow is the big fight scene. I just don't think I can punch you in the face, Dean." The actress playing your older sister laughed, reaching over to pinch Dean's cheek.

"Good, 'cause you're not really supposed too." Dean laughed, shooing her hand away. You laughed at their antics as you flitted off to the kitchen to find another beer.

Your phone had been left on the counter, and you noticed it lighting up as you stepped past the refrigerator.

You narrowly missed a call from George, his profile photo filling up your screen. When the call went dead, you noticed he'd tried to call once before then.

"Oh shit, it is Friday, isn't it?" You worried. As you and George each found the swing of your days on set, you figured Friday nights were the best time to check in on each other. But tonight you'd been so wrapped up in enjoying a night off at Dean's flat with your castmates, that you'd left your phone in the other room.

You pressed the call back button and scurried off to the back patio where you wouldn't be bothered.

"Hello love! Everything alright?" George asked. Because even though you'd agreed to call each other once a week, you'd started texting silly little updates to each other throughout most other days. And you hadn't done that at all today.

"Yeah, I'm so sorry I've been away. We've just been enjoying the rare day off."

"Ah, yeah that's alright." George was quick to assure you but you didn't miss the way his voice fell a little flat. But before you could go on apologizing, he spoke up again.

"I'm flying back home tomorrow morning." He spoke, and now he sounded as if he were on the verge of bursting out into excitable screams.

"Tomorrow morning?" You grinned. That was a week earlier than he'd been planning.

"We finished everything today and I've booked the soonest flight back. I can't wait to see you." George cooed through the phone line.

With all your might, you held back squeals and confirmed that you were just as excited to finally see him again, as well. Thought you'd started things off at an awkward time, your feeling for George blossomed more every day. Between flirty texts and late-night phone calls that lasted as long as they could with completely different schedules, you'd fallen head over heels for George.

He made you laugh, even all the way across the ocean. He would ask genuine and thoughtful questions and he'd never hold back from giving you his own honest and meaningful answers. You practically melted through the slots of the patio board when you ended your phone call with "See you tomorrow, darling!"

___

"That's a wrap for today!"

"Holy shit, I'm so glad we got that on the first take." You shivered. It was a little too cold to pretend to enjoy yourself in a swimming pool.

Dean was by your side next thing you knew, offering a robe from the costume lady who was sewing up another actor's tuxedo.

"Just think, all the hard parts are over. Only a few more days left of easy shooting!" Your friend held open the robe as you slid your arms in as a frown pulled at your lips.

"Don't remind me! I don't know what I'll do when all the fun is over." You pouted like a kid and dramatically threw yourself against Dean in a hug you couldn't manage while keeping your hands tucked under your arms. Your friend ran his hands along your shoulder with a laugh as you shivered, but the extra bit of warmth didn't last long.

"Oh my God!" Dean chirped, shoving you away from him all of a sudden. Just before you had time to shout at him for being rude, you noticed what caught his attention.

George! There he was, dressed in dark jeans and cozy sweater, happily chatting away with your agent before Dean got to him. The men shared a happy greeting and a warm hug as you hurried to do the same.

You shoved Dean away like he'd done to you, with a playful "Ha!," and practically threw yourself at George.

He was strong, effortlessly scooping you into his embrace and giving you a small spin from the momentum you'd gained. You'd never greeted each other so enthusiastically, but somehow now, it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

"You're here!" You realized as George set you on your feet again.

"When you told me you'd be done round five I figured I'd just swing by." He explained, keeping one of his hands gently wrapped around your waist. You weren't very cold any more.

"I missed you." You beamed, soaking up how close he finally was, after so long. George returned your sentiments as you both stood together, enjoying nothing more for a beat.

"I just need to change, then we can get going, yeah?" You shrugged, feeling suddenly uncomfortable in your still-damp bathing suit under the itchy robe.  Before you parted, you'd somehow made plans to go get dinner, and Dean was invited along.

"I did miss him too." George shot you a playful face as he moved to find where Dean had gone off too, leaving you to go change. You'd never flown in and out of the makeup trailer faster, sliding your clothes on and checking your face in the mirror before walking out onto the lot calm and cool.

You were totally anxious to finally get to spend time with George, but you hadn't forgotten what Dean mentioned about moving too fast.

You found both men in the car lot laughing together. They both turned their heads to see you approach, smiles widening, somehow.

"Ah, my boys. Let's go eat." You laughed, shooting Dean a look at George grabbed your hand in his.

___

You wound up at a posh Italian place, sat in the curve of a big red booth under George's arm. Dean was nearer the opposite curve, leaning a in a little closer to show George a bunch of dumb pictures the two of you had accumulated on set for the past couple of moths.

"Can I tell him about Taco Bell?" Dean choked back a laugh and looked at you with pleading eyes.

"I guess." You smiled after a beat. One night, not so long ago, you and Dean got plastered beyond belief and wandered to the nearest Taco Bell on foot. Their diner was closed, but their drive-through was open, and you had no choice but to try and walk up to the order box and try your luck. No one would respond, but Dean swore he saw workers avoiding your drunken rambles through the windows. The adventure ended with you having burst into tears, somehow deciding the Taco Bell was purgatory, drunkenly crying into the drive-through box. It made Dean laugh so hard he vomited next to the bins in the parking lot, and the pair of you got sternly asked to leave.

Not your finest hour, but certainly one of many memories from the highlight reel you and Dean had spent the early spring creating together. And it was Dean doing most of the talking tonight.

You spent your time snuggled close to George's side. His hand rested on your thigh while you buried your face in your hands at the end of each of Dean's stories.

George sat back, listened and laughed, and made fun of both of you along the way. You and Dean were in the middle of arguing over the details of your first petty fight when the check came.

"I have been missing out." George took the last swig of his drink.

"Well, we're glad to have you back mate. I better get going, though." Dean explained that he had a meeting with his agent before your day on set started tomorrow. When you all made your way out of the restaurant, you hugged Dean goodbye, calling him some silly nickname you coined in Ireland. He pulled a face at you, waved to George leaving the two of you alone for the first time in ages.

"I'd hate for the night to end, already." George gave you a convincing set of puppy dog eyes, but you didn't need convincing.

"It doesn't have to!" You spoke rather quickly.  "We could go back to mine and watch a film or something."

You offered a bashful shrug, hoping your excitable offer wasn't too forward.

But before you knew it, you were leading George into your studio flat, offering him something to drink as you flipped on a few lights on the way.

Tea was in order. You leaned against the kitchen island while George leaned against the counter, delving into conversation like you did best. He'd asked about some of the pictures you had framed of your family and friends, and you asked about his.

When the kettle rang and you filled two cups and asked George what he was most excited about being back home.

"I'm just glad to finally be with you." He informed, reaching out to pull you closer with the gentles tug at the hem of your shirt. He was a lot more affectionate than you remembered, but you certainly weren't complaining.

"I wish I'd spent all month having all that fun in Taco Bell purgatory with you." George joked, hooking one of his impossibly strong arms around your waist.

"George Mackay, are you a little jealous?" You laughed unbelievably, shoving your cup of tea a little further from you.

"Dean has gotten to kiss you more than I have, yet." George gave a little shrug as his bright blue eyes searched your face. If he was actually bothered, but the tiny smirk on his lips made you believe otherwise.

"Why don't we get up to speed, then, huh?" You rose a brow, resting one of your hands on George's sharp jaw. He didn't waste another second before diving into a kiss that left you breathless.

You expected your first kiss with George to be gentle and soft, just like him. But this kiss was fierce and hot and his hands were pushing your shoulders against the wall. And his lips only left yours to travel down your neck.

Your tea went cold that night.

___

You plopped into Dean's lap for the first shoot of the day. A rush of gratitude swooped over you, glad that you'd been able to work with someone you cared for so deeply.

"For someone who claims to know his best friend so well, you sure were off the mark." You playfully jabbed Dean in the ribs. He shot you a curious glare as a boom mic was being switched out for another.

"Do I even wanna know?" Dean chuckled, gazing up at you.

"All I'm saying, is he definitely didn't seem to care for taking things very slow last night." You proudly hinted as Dean let out an understanding yet mortified laugh. Some of your castmates were trickling onto set as your director checked behind the camera.

"He was totally jealous of all the time we've been spending together." You laughed, picking a piece of lint off the actor's sweater.

Dean's smile faltered as the director called action. Your friend's arms wrapped around your waist as you went on pretending to be in love.

After a long day of hard work, you and Dean started off in the direction of the makeup trailer. You'd kept one arm slung around his shoulders as he went on yammering about the last scene you shot.

George had decided to surprise you on set for the second day in a row, this time with a coffee for you and Dean, each.

"Awe, would ya look at that, we've got our own personal gofer." You laughed, looking at Dean as he gently slipped out from under your arm to accept George's kind offer. The labels on the cups were from a tiny bakery down the street from your set, but you didn't think much of it until you took a sip.

"Oh my God." You looked up to George with starry eyes. You wouldn't have cared what he ordered you, but he somehow got it exactly right. "How'd you know my favorite order from this place?"

You'd never been to the bakery with George before, and you couldn't remember a time you'd mentioned it to him. He really was the perfect boyfriend.

"I asked Dean," George admitted with a smile. You thanked him with a kiss on the cheek, and when you turned to do the same to Dean, he was gone.

___

You spent the rest of the week acting your heart out during the day and decompressing in the evening with George between movie marathons and dinner dates.

He was always checking in, making sure you were comfortable and always excited to experience new things with you. And you made sure George knew just how glad you were for his company. And especially charmed by the fact that he could never keep his hands off you. When you sat watching old tv shows he would trace patterns against your knee. He kept an arm around you as you walked the streets and always greeted you with a kiss.

Today, that's how he left you on set, with a sweet peck on your temple and a few words of encouragement. It was your last day, and you just weren't ready to say goodbye to everyone.

The last scene to shoot was of you and Dean, alone together in the isle of a convenience store. Your characters were meant to be having their first big fight, when a song comes over the loudspeakers neither of them can resist dancing along, bickering all the while.

It took you a couple of takes with the director suggesting different approaches, but it was over in the blink of an eye, Dean's character delivering the final line, while you were instructed to keep lazily dancing. After the director called cut, someone turned up the music and everyone cheered as your time together drew to a close.

You danced your way closer, throwing your arms around Dean in celebration.

"You've been the best castmate in the world! Thanks for putting up with me this long Dean. On and off set." You nodded, feeling your heart begin to ache. Dean hugged you back, offering similar sentiments, but unusually, something in Dean's tone fell flat.

You gave him an extra squeeze before he slinked off toward his trailer. While everyone else was offering goodbye hugs, you wondered if Dean wasn't keen to show how sad he was too. You shook it off and went on thanking the rest of the cast and crew for such a wonderful production.

The wrap party was later in the evening, but you left a big part of your heart on the set that was being torn down on your ride home.

___

George made it a bit hard for you to slip all the way into your party dress with the way he kept slipping it right back off. But with a little luck, you straightened his collar and dragged him out the door in the nick of time to party the night away.

The wrap party was at a nightclub where a live band was playing. As you slipped past drink stations and loudspeakers with George's hand in yours, you were reminded of when you met. How you'd keep running into each other on nights like these.

You held his hand a little tighter as the thought passed your mind and smiled up at him like a loon as he moved closer to your side.

"I'm glad you're here with me." You spoke up past the music.

"Me too." George grinned, leaning to place a kiss on your temple.

Your cast members bombarded you with hugs when they noticed you'd made it, asking for selfies and handing out drinks.

When you turned to look for George he'd found Dean and you were glad to skip toward them.

"Long time no see." You joked, sitting perfectly between the two of them.

"I can't believe it's over." Dean shook his head and cast a look to you.

"Yeah, but we still have press tour! And the premieres." You reminded, lifting your glass to your lips.

"Yeah." Dean smiled like he was glad, but you knew him better than that. Now was the time when he'd dream up some wild scenario he hoped would happen as you traveled to advertise for your new film. Or surely at the very least crack a joke.

You almost wanted to ask if he was okay, as he'd been totally reserved for a couple of days in a row. Of course, you knew he was probably just as sad for the production to wrap, but something was off. You could just tell.

___

Dean was weird during the entire press tour. He kept getting increasingly weirder as the days went by. And it was hard to pretend you weren't bothered. You called George every night, begging him to check up on Dean, make sure he was alright, get him to tell what he wouldn't tell you.

Over the past couple of months, you and Dean had grown inseparable and after the film, that changed. You knew your closeness couldn’t have been an act. You knew Dean made genuine connections with people he cared about. He was still close to George after their film had ended. Why was he suddenly so cold to you?

When you did interviews together, it was almost like it used to be, suppressing snickers and sharing secrets through the rise of an eyebrow.

But on the bus and out to dinner, Dean kept his distance. He still spoke with you and asked about your life, but it was like he'd severed himself off from your connection. By the time you got home, you hoped leaving him alone for a week and getting back to normal would make things better.  

But the morning of the premiere, you'd had all you could take. You and Dean were just leaving a hotel conference room after the last of a dozen interviews.

Dean walked a few paces behind you on your way out to the lobby. George was there, waiting to take you to some celebratory lunch before you were meant to start getting ready. He was all smiles, happily greeting you with a warm hug. He started to say something about how excited he was to take you out when you noticed Dean brush by, headed for the door.

"Uh, give me a second." You decided all of a sudden, leaving George in the small waiting area so you could catch your castmate before he reached the hotel doors.

"Dean! Wait." You demanded, fed up with how strangely he'd been acting. You couldn't possibly show up to the premiere tonight without at least trying to make things better.

You had to chase him out of the revolving doors, but when you reached the pavement, Dean was shocked enough by your low tone to stop and face you. You finally had his full attention, thank God.

"Are you okay? Have I upset you, somehow? Did I do something? Please tell me what's wrong." You begged, your throat started to close, but you managed to press the words out in time. As you spoke, Dean's face changed.

His eyes left yours, cast to the floor, and flicked up to somewhere behind you.

"Please talk to me." You begged in a hush. You didn't care about anyone passing by who might have looked at you funny.

"I-I'm sorry. No, I'm not upset with you. I never meant to make you think that." Dean explained in a low manner.

"Then what's going on?" You asked, worried by how reluctant he was to say anything.

"I didn't want to be in the way." Dean started, searching your face. "You and I had gotten so close and when George got back I felt like I was breaking some kind of boundary." Dean sighed, waving a hand as he cleared the air. And right on time, out of the corner of your eye, you noticed George stepping out of the revolving doors to find you.

"I was only trying not to hurt his feelings." Dean finalized. All the while, you tried taking a step closer to your friend. He took a step back.

"Well, you're hurting mine." You batted back, feeling tears sting your eyes. You were much too overwhelmed by the interaction to keep talking to Dean.

As George approached the pair of you, you grabbed his hand and spun around to the other end of the pavement. You heard Dean call your name to try and stop you, but you were already around the corner to where George's car had been parked.

George hurried behind the wheel but didn't start the engine. He leaned gently toward where you settled back against the passenger seat, defeated. You sucked in a sharp breath, determined not to totally lose your cool.

"What's happened?" George worried in a high pitch. One of his warm hands wrapped around your shoulder as you tried understanding everything Dean had just explained to you.

"He finally told me what his problem was and," You let out a humorless laugh as a tear escaped. "And I guess I just wasn't expecting it."

"Oh love," George barely whispered, lifting a finger to wipe your tear away.

"I think... he thinks you're jealous of him? Or at least he was afraid of our friendship coming across as something it wasn't, in your eyes. So he just shut me out. I guess it's nice he cares for you that much huh?" You let out another small, watery laugh.

George had that adorably confused look on his face, casting his pretty eyes into yours.

"That's what he’s been worried over?" George seemed just as confused as you had been. He'd never been able to get a read on Dean, any time George had tried to talk to him about how strangely he'd been acting.  

And you knew George wasn't jealous, not of Dean. He asked to hear all of the fun stories you had about Dean while you'd been working together. George seemed delighted that his friend cared for you so deeply. You knew that.

George reassured you that was the case, admitting he might have been a little jealous of missing out on all the fun, but not of Dean.

You'd calmed down a bit, with the help of George's sweet, gentle talk. He reassured that you weren't silly for crying, and then he took you to lunch. As you fueled up for a long exciting night, George insisted that he would knock some sense into his dear friend and that you'd get back to being just as close in no time.

___

The pair of you got all dolled up, painted for a premier. George's suit complimented your dress and you confessed you were totally madly in love with him. Maybe it was too soon, but it was just the right time, all things considered. George returned your sentiments with a light in his eyes and a smile on his face and everything was almost perfect.

You piled into George's car and drove to the studio where a limo was waiting to escort you and Dean to the premier. You were a packaged deal tonight, and he never invited a date.

Thank God Dean was already waiting at the studio for you, and early. George was able to pull him aside as your agent fussed over a bunch of silly questions. Your director still hadn't shown up by the time George and Dean reappeared before you, both wearing relaxed smiles.

"I'm sorry I never really talked to you. I shouldn't have ghosted you like that." Dean approached, looking dapper in his navy blue suit.

"Never do it again. Yell at me next time, I can take it." You swore, nodding in his direction. Dean rolled his eyes as his smile grew and all the tension between you fizzled away.

"So are we finally back to normal? I want to have game night and I need you on my Monopoly team." You fell back into a familiar banter, longing to make plans with your friend.

"I can't play a single board game without you. We share one brain cell, I think" Dean reached out, grabbing your shoulder to pull you into a hug, a real, meaningful one. You could have cried again just knowing he would be there to make fun of you for being so emotional.

"Yeah well, you're gonna need it because I'm the best Monopoly player in the British Isles." George sauntered up to the pair of you, seemingly very serious. You let out a loud chuckle as your embrace with Dean ended.

And when you piled into the limo between the two people you cared most about, you wondered how you'd gotten so lucky. It was official, everything was picture perfect.

───※ ·❆· ※───

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #george mackay imagine #george mackay fanfic #dean charles chapman #dean charles chapman x reader #dean charles chapman fanfic #dean charles chapman imagine

[mydemimonde]

‘muse’ ch. 7 | matt (bbtl)

you’re in for a treat my friends ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

CHAPTER 7

Mia took a deep breath and knocked on the door. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other, waiting for him. She was mentally preparing her apologize speech when Matt opened the door. Suddenly, she forgot what she was going to tell him.

He was surprised at seeing her there, for him it was clear that she didn’t want them to be friends anymore. He crossed his arms and leaned on the doorframe. He didn’t say a word. Mia noticed how her hands were sweating and her heart beating fast.

“Hi Matt… I came to talk to you, about… what happened the other day”

His eyes narrowed and he sighed. “I don’t know what you want to talk about, you made it really clear you don’t want me to be your friend anymore” he stated with a slack expression on his face.

She bit the inside of her left cheek. “That’s not true Matt, I really want your friendship, more than anything. Just let me explain myself” at this point she was desperate. She wanted everything to be alright between them. But she also couldn’t stand seeing Matt and Emma together, even if his happiness meant the world for her.

He meditated for a few seconds before moving to the right and allowing here to step inside. She swallowed hard and entered his house, gripping hard the strap of her bag. They went to the living room and sat on the couch, on polar opposites. She took a deep breath before speaking.

“I’m sorry I behaved like an insensitive bitch. You didn’t deserve that. It’s just…” she bit her lower lip. “You know I was never good at expressing my emotions, or controlling them” he nodded in acknowledgment. “That’s the reason why I’ve been acting strange around you. There’s something happening with me and I don’t know how the fuck to deal with it, so I exploded” her speech was rushed; she covered her face with her hands.

“Hey, hey” he quickly went to sit next to her, grabbed her hands and put them on her lap. “What’s going on, love?” the pet name made her even more anxious, but she loved it anyway.

“It’s not that easy to explain” tears threaten to spill and her voice cracked. He caressed her cheek, showing worry and affection. “I acted like that because I was angry. Angry at you and Emma”

His expression softened. “Love, I’m sorry. I know I spent a lot of time with her lately, and talked about her all the time. I know that it annoyed you, and Javed as well. I promise…”

“No, you don’t understand Matt. It’s not that. I was jealous” she confessed.

“Jealous?” he wiped a tear away from her face with his thumb.

“Jealous of Emma” she expected a laugh from him. But he didn’t laugh. Instead, he showed even more confusion than before. “Oh, you’re so clueless Matt”

He chuckled and furrowed. “You’re not being very clear”

“I love you” she let it out and felt a weight off her shoulders. “And not as friends” Matt was looking dazed. She continued. “I’ve been in love with you since we were 8. I thought I was over you, but I was wrong. When I came back and saw you, I realized my feelings for you never vanished” Matt stood there, completely shocked. Her heartbeat was fast. “Say something please”

What could he say? His mind was racing, he couldn’t believe her words. It took him a moment to gather himself up and get on his feet. She looked down, believing she ruined their friendship for good. He extended his hand to her. “Come with me” she hesitated for a second, but took his hand.

They went to his room. It was a little messy, some sheets of paper –songs written by him, she supposed– were all over the bed, the guitar was there as well. Posters decorated the walls, and there was a synthesizer in one corner.

Matt collected the sheets of paper and put them on the drawer next to his bed. He told her to sit there, and went to the closet to look for something. She looked at the night table and saw a portrait. It was a picture of the trio as children, at Matt’s 10th birthday. He had a red birthday hat, Javed was on his left and Mia on his right. They were sticking their tongues out, and their noses were covered in frosting. She smiled fondly.

“Here” Matt returned with a box and opened it. It was full of papers, drawings, old pictures and a black bracelet. She recognized those last two items immediately. “I saved all of them” he took the bracelet in his hand. “You made this and gave it to me on my birthday. I remember you were upset because you didn't have enough money to buy me a new jacket, so you made this and I told you that the jacket didn't matter, that I loved the bracelet. I would wear it all the time, proudly" he looked at it and smiled. Then, he showed her the drawings. "These were drawn by you on a rainy day. We were stuck here in my house, we were bored and you drew this" she examined at the three colourful figures: Javed, Matt and Mia in the park.

Mia took the polaroids, which captured some of their happiest memories. The trio posing next to a Christmas tree, opening their gifts, eating marshmallows. Then, there was a picture of Matt and Mia alone. She was kissing his cheek, and he had a grin on his face.

"Do you remember the day you told us you were moving to Liverpool?" she nodded. "I was pissed. Really pissed. But not at you, at myself" she slightly shook her head, not quite understanding. "I was angry because I never had the guts to tell you about how I felt about you. When I finally gathered courage, you were leaving" he started to rummage through the box and grabbed the sheet of papers. "I know I was a little kid and barely began to understand what love was, but I couldn't help being so upset" Mia couldn't believe what she was hearing. "After you left, I felt empty. Everything I did was talk to Javed about you. Poor lad, I know I exhausted him" he chuckled.

"Matt, I..."

He cut her off, lifting a finger. "Let me finish. Do you know why I decided to become a musician?" she shook her head. "At first I thought it was just a hobby as a kid. Watching rock stars do their thing, it was really exciting. I wanted that. But that isn't the reason anymore"

"Then what is it?" she had no idea where this conversation was going. But she was curious.

"You" Matt's eyes and tone were sincere. "You are the reason. You inspired me to write songs since we were kids" he handed over the crumpled sheets of paper, and she took them. Most of the songs were about love, admiration or heartbreak. All about her. "The first ones are shitty because, well, I was 10, but my feelings were true. And they still are. You're my muse"

She blushed and blinked repeatedly. This wasn't what she was expecting from him. Never in a million years. She looked at the last sheet of paper, it had a familiar date on it. It was from 5 days ago.

"I wrote that after your… outburst. The day we went to the park" his eyes were fixed on the paper.

The image of Matt playing the guitar and writing came to her mind. Of course, she saw him through her window that night. "Oh. I'm sorry about that too. I was hurt because of the necklace. I thought it was for me. That's why I overreacted" Mia bit her lip and looked down, embarrassed.

He placed his hand on her cheek. "I'm so sorry for that, babe. I'm stupid" she looked up and met his blue eyes. "I should've told you before"

"It's not your fault, it was mine for making stuff up in my head and creating fantasies..."

"No Mia, not that" he giggled. "I love you. I always have. That's what I should've told you"

Mia was puzzled. After a few seconds of silence, she chuckled. "You do realize that we're the most idiot people in the world?"

"What do you mean?" he grinned.

"It took us 9 years to confess our feelings to each other. We're literally so stupid, I can't bel–" her rambling was cut off by Matt’s lips on her. His right hand kept caressing her cheek, and the left went immediately to the back of her neck, pulling her closer to him. Mia was totally taken aback by his sudden movement, but kissed him back. Her shaky hands grabbed his jacket, closing the short distance between them. His lips were soft against hers and she felt like the time stopped. Mia could smell the mix of his perfume and cigarettes. She felt dizzy.

He pulled back and rested his forehead on hers. “I wanted to do that for such a long time. I even pictured how it would be” he smirked.

Mia licked her lips. “How did it turn? Just like you imagined?”

“Hmm” he looked up, thinking. “I think I’ll need to check again” Matt went in for another kiss, this time it was deeper. Her lips tasted like strawberry chapstick, he wanted more. Mia moved her hands to the back of his neck, running her fingers through his hair. He tenderly traced her lower lip with the tip of his tongue and she parted her mouth slightly, moaning softly. Panting, they pulled back to catch their breaths.

“So?” her eyes were locked on Matt’s, his pupils were large.

“It was way better that I imagined”

 - - - - - - -

tag list: @blueeyedheizer​

#dean charles chapman #matt blinded by the light #dean charles chapman imagine #dean charles chapman fanfic #dean charles chapman blinded by the light #1917

[george-mackay-macfine]

Dean NSFW! Alphabet

A/N I’m so sorry this is so quick, I’ve been flat out recently. I wanted to post something but didn’t want to half-ass a request. 

Request

Synopsis: Dean NSFW alphabet.

Word count: 1,015

A= Aftercare

Dean always likes pushing you to the maximum you can go. So even when you think it’s done it may not be, he’ll be pushing his fingers inside your tight, oversensitive pussy and praying for you to come once more. 

However, once he’s sure you’ve given all you can he turns into the sweetest man you know, pulling you close, getting you a cloth and cleaning you up. Kissing and loving you as much as he can. 

B= Boner

When you and Dean are out in public and he gets a stiff one he doesn’t want to just readjust and pretend it doesn’t happen, he makes sure he presses against you however he can, against the side of your leg, resting it between you bum cheeks. 

He wants you to know that he wants you and if you’re willing to sneak off to that supply closest… Even better.  

C=Cum

You, when you cum, is the hottest visual Dean has ever seen. He’ll never forget the way your lip pulls between your teeth as you let go all because of him, and he’ll never forget the taste of you on his tongue. 

D= Dirty Secret

Dean has a stash of videos of the two of you. His favourite to watch while he’s away filming is when you’re deep throating him, gagging around his cock. He’ll watch it whenever he can on set, and he’ll be sure he’s got privacy because he knows ones he sees the tears in your eyes from trying to take all of him he’ll need a release. 

E= Experience (How much do they have?)

Dean used to be a fuckboy. In the height of G.O.T he could get any girl he wanted. So he’s well versed on how to make a woman feel good. How hard to thrust to keep her coming, how if he wiggles his tongue gently enough on your clit while his fingers are buried inside of you it’ll cause you to squirt all over him.  

F= Favorite Position

Dean loves to see you ride him. Watch your tits bounce while your head falls back in pleasure. He loves to watch you use him as your own personal fuck toy because he knows the second round he’s going to bend you over the side of the bed and not take it easy on you.

G= Gagging

Dean thinks there’s nothing prettier than you gagging on his cock, especially in the back of the limo where you know you have to be quiet and not make a sound. 

H= Hair

He’s bald, he wants you to lick wherever you want without worrying about hair. 

I=Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

Dean’s always leaving kisses on your neck that to strangers seem sweet and romantic, but to you, you know it means he’s horny and he wants you to meet him int he car in 5 minutes. 

J=Jerking off

He’s not a fan unless he’s doing it to you fucking yourself with your toys, or he’s away on set and he’s no other option. 

K=Kink

He loves seeing you full. Often you’ll find yourself with a small vibrating dildo in your arse, a gag in your mouth and Dean going hard on your pussy. He’s also used these times to take photos of you as your coming unable to make a scream. 

L=Location 

He loves to fuck you in the shower. When you’re all wet and sudsy from your body wash. Makes slipping in even easier. 

M=Motivation

When you’re playing with your lips at the dinner table, looking him up and down with those bedroom eyes, that’s all the motivation he needs to take you home.  

N=No (Something they won’t do, turn-offs)

He refuses to degrade you. 

O=Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He loves to see you going down on him, nearly as much as he loves to go down on you. 

P=Pace

He changes it up each time, you never know what Dean you’ll get. 

Q=Quickie

He’s not a fan, he’d rather take his time and worship your body, even if your in public.

R= Rubbers

As soon as you and Dean got into a serious committed relationship, the pair of you decided you didn’t want to have a barrier between you and you made the decision on your own to get on the pill. Dean’s first time inside you, without a condom on was nearly enough to blow his brains out.  

S=Stamina

He can normally last two rounds, but he makes you come at least three times before he’s finished.  

T=Toys

He loves toys, he thinks they add to the fun. He loves taking you to dinner with a vibrator, or some Ben Wa Balls inside of you, He finds it especially fun when you have the Ben Wa Balls in your pussy and a little vibrator in your ass. He loves to hold the remote and turn it on when you’re eating, and watch as you give all the men around a little show. 

U=Unfair teasing

He loves it when you tease him, take control and show skin on your nights out together, teasing him infant of his friends, because he knows when you get home he’ll be fucking you well into the early morning. 

V=Volume

Dean likes to let you know when you’re pleasing him, and in return loves to know when he’s pleasing you. He always makes sure he tells you to tell him how good he’s making you feel. 

W= Wild Card

He loves it when you dominate him, and hold him down between your legs, and use his cock like a toy. 

X=X-Ray

The boy is long in length and soooo thick… 

Y=Yearning

He fucks you at least once a day, ending in at least two orgasms minimal. 

Z=ZZZ…

You’ll snuggle till you fall asleep, more than once you’ve fall asleep with him inside you, laid on his chest unable to move from the pleasure he dealt you.

#dean charles chapman #Dean Charles Chapman x reader #Dean Charles Chapman Imagine #Dean Charles Chapman Fanfic #Dean Charles Chapman Smut #Dean Charles Champan request

[dean-charleschapman]

The Weight

Dean-Charles Chapman x Reader

Requested: Yes / No

Summary: A sad Dean comes home from filming and you comfort him

Warnings: fluff, slight angst, 1917 spoilers!

Word count: ~1.5

A/N: My first ever fic! Please send me requests/feedback!

Take a load off, Fanny

Take a load for free

You startle at the sound of your phone ringing, an instinctive smile curling at your lips as you hear the familiar tune of The Weight by The Band playing from your pocket.

“Hey, love! How goes the filming?” you answer Dean’s call brightly, smiling into the receiver as you relax against the couch.

“Pretty good, but I feel like I haven’t seen you in days,” he replies, a pout evident in his voice.

“You saw me this morning, silly,” you giggle.

It did feel as if the two of you hardly spent any time together anymore; the preparation for 1917 had taken longer than either of you had thought, and now that filming had begun, you rarely saw Dean during the day.

“I’ll be home early tonight, the weather’s shit so we can’t film much. It’s lovely outside, no clouds for miles. Absolute shit,” Dean chuckles quietly on the other end and you grin in response, forgetting that he can’t see your smile.

“I’ll try to be awake when you get home, but no promises,” you reply, crossing your legs and propping your feet up on the small coffee table in front of the couch.

“No worries, darling. I probably won’t be able to make it five minutes home without passing out,” he says, and you can hear the exhaustion in his voice.

You both pause, just enjoying each other's presence, speaking becoming unnecessary as you sigh into the phone. You hear muffled voices on Dean’s end, and a hushed reply as he tries to convince Sam to give him a few more minutes with you. You smile and wait for his reluctant goodbye. 

“I hate to cut this short, but duty calls...I’ll see you tonight.”

“Bye, love. Good luck finding some clouds,” you say, smiling as you hear both Dean and George’s laugh.

“I love you,” he says softly, as if trying to have one last moment with you away from the crew and cast.

“Love you more, D.”

You hang up, leaning your head back against the couch and feeling around for the TV remote. You might as well try to fill the time until Dean gets home. You flick through the channels and settle on an Our Planet special about exotic birds, letting yourself relax completely into the cushions. Before you know it, you’re fast asleep, the soothing voice of David Attenborough clouding your mind as colorful feathers float across the screen.

                                                          …

A quiet shuffling from the front hall causes you to wake up, and you slowly open your eyes to the blue shadows of evening. A warm yellow light filters in from the front door, and you realize that Dean has arrived home. A lazy smile settles over your face as you pull yourself off of the couch and make your way to the hallway to greet him.

“Hey lovie, you’re still up,” he speaks softly as he sees you approaching from the living room, still wrapped in a blanket that you had tangled yourself in during your nap.

“Mmhm,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around his torso and closing your eyes, letting his scent wash over you. He exhales into the embrace, placing his chin in the crook of your neck as he sways slightly with you in his arms.

“Missed you all day,” he murmurs into your hair, placing a kiss to your neck.

“Missed you too,” you breathe, pulling him in tighter as you feel his smile against your skin.

“Sorry if I woke you up. You still tired?” he asks, pulling back slightly to look down at you with warm eyes.

“A bit, though I took a nap so I’m not sure how successful I’ll be falling asleep again,” you reply, resting your head against his chest. You can feel his steady heartbeat from under his sweatshirt, and you focus on the lulling sound.

“Well I’m knackered. Feels like I haven’t slept in years,” he groans, letting his arms loosen around you as he makes his way to the kitchen.

“How was shooting? Any clouds?”

“Yes actually, we had a stroke of luck when the wind picked up, so we got to shoot a few scenes. Filmed one of the hardest ones today,” he says with a slight frown that doesn't go unnoticed by you.

“Yeah?” you reply, waiting to see if he’ll elaborate.

“Yeah, it was exhausting. One of the longest takes we’ve ever done, and really emotionally taxing,” he huffs out a laugh to lighten his words, but you can tell that it’s forced.

“Everything ok, love? You seem stressed,” you purse your lips, looking knowingly into his eyes.

He runs a hand through his hair and looks away, leaning against the countertop. “M’fine, just tired,” he brushes you off, his shoulders tense.

“I know you, Dean. I can tell when you’re upset.”

“I'm not upset, just...a little shaken I guess,” he replies, eyes closing as he rubs his face.

“What happened?” you ask with slight concern, coming around the counter to his side.

“Nothing, don't worry love. Blake can be tough sometimes, that’s all,” he turns to you, still leaning against the table as he tries to put on a smile.

“I can’t imagine what it’s like to have to be a soldier, even in a movie,” you look into his eyes, trying to pick out his emotions.

Dean stays silent for a moment, just looking back at you with sharp, blue eyes.

“It was Blake’s death scene. We filmed it today,” he finally speaks, his voice low as he continues to fiddle with his hair.

You reach a hand up to stop him, smoothing out his brown curls and giving him a sympathetic look. You know how attached he is to the character, you had seen his reaction when he had first read the script for 1917, and you can tell he doesn’t want to let him go.

“It was odd, you know. We’d all rehearsed everything for months, but at the end of the scene, I just couldn’t stop crying.” He tilts his head to meet your gaze again, emotion swimming in his eyes.

You give him a sad smile, reaching for his hands. He wraps them around yours, his grip firm and soft, and you give his fingers a squeeze.

“That’s understandable, darling. It’s a sad story,” you comfort him. 

“I think I just need a break. I don’t know why this is affecting me so much.” His voice wavers as he furrows his brows, trying to hide the tears welling in his eyes.

You feel your throat tighten up just from his broken expression, and you fight to stay composed so you can comfort him.

“It’s because you love Blake. And dying like he does...I don’t know how you do it,” you shake your head, watching Dean blink back fresh tears.

Dean nods and swallows thickly, stepping closer to you. You open your arms for him and he accepts the hug gratefully.

You stroke his back as he takes deep breaths against you, pressing a kiss to his temple. You hold him like that for a few moments before gathering yourself and breaking the silence.

“It’s ok to be upset about it, you know. I’m sure I’ll be a right mess when I see it,” you say softly, moving your face to rest your lips by his ear.

“Why don’t we go to bed now, alright?” you whisper.

“Yeah,” Dean sighs, his breathing steadier as he releases you from the tight hug.

You follow him to the bedroom, watching the heavy drag of his feet as you turn off the hallway lights and let the dark haze of night cast vertical shadows on the walls.

You don’t bother putting on pajamas and climb into bed wearing just your t-shirt, slipping under the comforter next to Dean who is already lying down with his eyes closed.

You turn to face him and he opens his eyes, weary and hooded with sleep. He blinks slowly and smiles at you, using his arm to pull you into him so that your head rests against his shoulder and his arm wraps snugly around your waist.

“Thanks,” he whispers, and you tilt your head up to meet his tired gaze.

“For what?”

“For being you.”

“Anytime,” you grin, your reply almost drowned out by a yawn.

He shakes his head, “I mean it. Thank you for always listening and caring. Most people wouldn’t.” 

“I’ll always listen. And of course I care, I love you,” you murmur against his chest, shuffling your body closer to his so that you are pressed completely against him.

“I love you too,” he says softly, his thumb rubbing your hip gently beneath the covers.

“Goodnight, D,” you yawn again, throwing an arm over his chest and placing your hand over his heart.

“Goodnight,” he breathes out, his hand coming up to rest over yours as he places a kiss on the top of your head.

It feels as if a weight is pulling at your lids as you attempt to take one last loving look at Dean before drifting off to sleep, feeling warm and safe with his arms around you.

That night, you dream of brightly colored birds.

#dean charles chapman #dean-charles chapman #1917 movie #1917 film #dean chapman #dean-charles chapman fanfic #dean charles chapman fanfic #dean-charles chapman fanfiction #dean charles chapman fanfiction #1917 fanfic #1917 fanfiction #fanfiction #fluff #angst #smut #dean-charles chapman fluff #dean charles chapman x reader #x reader #fanfic #fluff fanfic #angst fanfic #1917 #george mackay #tom blake #thomas blake #will schofield #william schofield #schofield #blake #sam mendes

[beetl3bum]

Holding Out (Dean Charles Chapman x reader)

A knock at the door. 

“Hmm I was just thinking of y-” you begin to say before his lips put a halt to yours.

“Love you have no idea,” he says. It’s Dean, his hair is messy, and you had promised each other you would stay in separate rooms tonight. 

Without missing a beat, he comes inside the room and begins taking off your jacket. He rubs your arms and runs his hands down to your waist. Before he gets too handsy, you say

“Woah easy there tiger. I have somewhere to be soon,”

He kisses you again and stares. 

“You serious...?” he asks, face still dangerously close to yours.

“I was just on my way out, you coming with me?”

“How much time’ we got then?” he says asking impatiently.

You get up and walk toward the door and dangle the key in between your finger. He gets up and grabs your jacket for you, placing it over your shoulders and kissing my neck as he stands behind you. 

Your lips wrestle some more in the hallway before you stop and stare at him. He leans in to kiss you but you turn away and walk ahead. It drives him crazy. 

He holds your hand down the elevator, kissing it before you both walk out. Walking toward a crowd of men, Dean wasn’t one to act insecure. He knew how crazy you are for him, because he is for you as well. He does however, put a hand on your waist. He lowers them, not too much, but just enough to put his thumb through the belt buckle of your pants. You look at him. 

He drives fast in your car, so when you put on the radio he glances over. There’s tension in the air that you both don’t want to address just yet so you let it linger just a little longer. 

You sway a little to the music as he smiles to himself. Not too long after, he turns into an empty lot. Without hesitating or even pausing to think about it, you both get out of the car to get into the backseats. As you lay on the seats he holds your waist and helps you get my pants off. 

“You tease,” he says.

“Mmmm” you say back.

You help his shirt come off, he helps with yours. He kisses parts all over your body and makes a lot of sweet gestures that come before sweet sounds of pleasure that fill the car. Eventually, after the car has been fogged up with our breaths and the rock playlist from your phone has stopped, you realize how long you two have been sitting naked, in an empty lot. 

You kiss his lips softly and hold the back of his neck. Before he goes to kiss your chest again you stop him.

“Dean,” you say to get his attention. His attention is on you, straddling his waist but not on what you’re trying to say just yet. 

“Dean,” you say one more time. He looks up and you can feel him through his pants.

“I really.... I really do have to go to this meeting,” you say tucking a piece of hair behind his ear. I rub his earlobe to relax him. You know he’s still adrenaline filled: he’s sweaty, his cheeks are as rosy as ever, and he’s still panting just the tiniest bit. 

“Can’t you be late?” he pleads.

Mmmm-mmm you say, negating what he says. He takes a big sigh and kisses your cheek one more time. 

“Wait there,” he says as he puts his clothes back on. While he gets out of the car and takes another look around, just to make sure we were actually alone, you put your shirt back on. 

He opens the door for you, and holds your hand as you get out of the car. You kiss once more passionately and enter the passenger seat again. He begins driving, smiling with his hand over the back of your chair. He is in love, you are in love. 

#dean charles chapman #dean charles chapman x reader #dean charles chapman imagines #dean charles chapman fanfic #1917 #game of thrones

[withhowsadsteps]

the singing angel (Tom Blake/1917)

its been YEARS (not literal) since i had time to write anything. and i didnt have time today either but i still wrote. sorry for any typos. i miss my boy tom and any dean content enjoy words: about 900 to 1k

- Most of the other wounded soldiers in the hospital ward were still unconscious or just in a state of deep sleep during the nights. Blake was an exception. He would keep his eyes closed just in case he had woken up from his nightmares in the trenches, not in a warm hospital bed. He had almost lost track of time, laying on the bed. Sometimes his mom visited him, but most of the time she wasn’t allowed to visit. The nurses and the doctors would tell her that Blake needed to rest. His wound still caused infernal pain and he had never felt more alone before. At least in the trenches he had Scho, but now? The only company he had were his troubled thoughts. Weeks passed and Blake’s feelings of despair and loneliness just deepened. The nurses did their jobs, but they never talked to him more than was necessary. The night she came into his life was identical to all the previous until him waking up from one of his nightmares. While clutching his eyes close and trying to steady his breathing, he heard the sweetest, most beautiful voice he had ever heard. She, whoever she was, sang quietly enough not to disturb any sleeping soldiers, but loud enough for Blake to register her words and voice. “Yet there's no sickness, toil, nor danger In that bright land to which I go” Blake opened his weary eyes slowly, afraid of what he might see. Had he died in his sleep? Was he entering heaven? His eyes adjusted to the dimmed lights of the ward. He saw a young nurse sitting beside one of the beds. She held the hand of a soldier, singing to him. For a while he just stared at her. She sounded and looked like an angel, maybe she was. For all he knew he was just seeing things, imagining. “But golden fields lie just before me Where God’s redeemed shall ever sleep I’m going there to see my father I’m going there no more to roam…” Blake heard her voice cracking and the song stopping. He noticed that the soldier’s chest had stopped moving. The nurse placed the soldier’s hand gently on the bed, laying it down near his lifeless body. Blake felt a sudden urge to weep like a small baby, but repressed his emotions, not wanting to disturb the quiet night. The nurse had been there for that poor soul when no one else was. Who was she? After that night Blake realized she was a new night shift nurse. And after that night, she always comforted the dying soldiers. And Blake always pretended to sleep just so he could enjoy her soothing singing. One night after another soldier passed away and was taken out of the ward in the quiet of the night, Blake opened his eyes. He spotted the nurse sitting on the recently emptied bed, crying softly. He felt bad, wanting to comfort her, pay her back for all that she had done. He tried to sit up, but he only managed to hurt himself and let out a quiet moan of pain. It was enough to get the nurse’s attention and she quickly came to her, wiping her tears. “Let me check your wound, lance corporal”, she told him, but he quickly stopped her. “No, it’s ok. I just… I wanted to do something to make you feel better, I guess” Blake managed to say, too distracted by her beauty to explain himself further. The nurse looked embarrassed and quickly apologized for waking him up, but little did she know that her singing, and her presence were what he waited for each night. “He just looked like my brother. I miss him. That’s all” she quietly explained and thanked Blake for even noticing her sorrow. Before anything else could be said, she heard another soldier calling out for a nurse, and in a second, she was gone. Blake’s wound slowly got better and he could now even move around the ward with the help of a nurse or with a cane. He felt freer and appreciated the fact that the nurse let him sit by the window and look at the starry sky. He did not notice her sitting down near her. “Your eyes sparkle in the moonlight” her voice filled his ears. He felt his cheeks warming up a little and a chuckle escaped his lips, a sweet smile now framing his face. “And you can smile!” “I was not sure if I'd ever be able smile again” Blake admitted.

After a moment of silence, he spoke again. “Sing to me? Please” And just like that, she started singing, calming his stormy mind. His last night in the hospital arrived sooner than he thought. Every night he spent awake with her seemed to morph time. She looked exhausted. “I cannot wait to get out of the night shift” she admitted. “Especially because someone is getting out and leaving me here” the nurse then added, with a playful smirk on her face. Blake just shook his head slightly before realizing that this was very likely his last chance to ask her on a date, ask her to see him again. “This does not have to be the last time you see me” “Are you asking me out, lance corporal?” “Only if you start calling me by my name” “That’s a deal, Tom”

#tom blake #1917 #1917 fanfic #dean charles chapman #dean-charles chapman

[thylalock]

A man is sleeping next to him on the grass — BLAKE, 19, youthful, strapping.

inspired by this, a Tom Blake fanfic.

#1917edit #1917 fanfic #tom blake #dean-charles chapman #dcchapmanedit #blaac #blakefield #my writings #1917 #* #will post the fic here tonight! #*mygraphics

[pennylanefics]

quick make out - matt

a/n: so just ignore the fact that the films mentioned in this technically weren’t out in the 80s 🤣 maybe think of it as a modern au lol

since matt isn’t getting along with his dad much recently, you asked him if he wanted to spend christmas with you and your family. he was pretty excited about this, your family loves him and he loves them.

at the moment, matt was watching a film with your younger cousins. they’ve been wanting to watch elf for the longest time, and matt was more than happy to be the one to watch it with them.

“join us, love,” matt says as you hand him a plastic cup with soda in it.

“i’m helping mum with the potatoes. but as soon as i’m no longer needed, i’ll join you.” you give matt a quick kiss and walk back into the kitchen. before you walk in, though, you glance back at matt, and see a disappointed look on his face.

once the potatoes are finished and you help with a couple more things, you walk back into the living room and see that the film is over.

“look what happened, love. the film is over and you didn’t get to watch it with us,” matt says jokingly.

“you still have the vhs. it’s not like we can’t watch it again.”

“we could always watch another christmas film, though,” he suggests. your cousins yell and jump in agreement, so he quickly finds the santa claus and plays it. your cousins settle down on the floor in front of the couch you and matt sat on.

“are they being good?” you ask him quietly.

“they’re great. lots of fun, as always.”

“not giving you too much trouble, though?” he smirks and kisses your cheek.

“they have asked a lot of questions about us.”

“really?” he nods and turns back to the film.

“well, like what?” you continue. he shakes his head and puts his finger up to his lips.

“the film is starting, you have to be quiet,” he says a little louder so your cousins hear.

“yeah! be quiet and pay attention!” your youngest cousin yells at you. your eyebrows raise at her sass as she turns back towards the screen.

“so rude.”

matt’s arm wraps around your shoulder as the movie progresses, and at one point, he begins to get bored with it.

“babe, can we go outside for a moment?” he whispers in your ear. you give him a confused look.

“it’s freezing out, matt. why would you need to go outside?” he shrugs and sighs as you turn back to the screen once again. all he wanted was some alone time with you, honestly.

a little bit longer, and he starts kissing your neck. your hand rakes through his hair, trying to pull him off of you, but it was no use.

“uh, you guys continue watching this. matt and i need to talk about something upstairs for a moment,” you say to your cousins, standing. they shoo you away and you drag matt upstairs in anger.

“what is so important?” you snap. he pushes you down on your bed and pounces on you, kissing you deeply. you moan against his lips and melt into the kiss.

he continues for five minutes, just making out with you, slowly and passionately. when you finally pull away, you’re slightly out of breath and your lipstick is very much messed up, and all over matt’s lips.

“i just wanted to make out with you,” he winks cheekily. standing, you help him wipe the makeup off of both of you before fixing your hair and clothes.

“don’t think because you got what you wanted, you’re off the hook,” you tell him before opening the door and heading back downstairs. you settle back down on the couch together before matt whispers in your ear.

“what does that mean?”

“it means i’m gonna get back at you for needing to make out with me in that moment.”

“meaning?”

“you’re in for it when everyone goes to sleep.”

#matt #matt imagines #matt x reader #dean charles chapman #dean charles chapman x reader #blinded by the light #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

[britishboystm]

Photographs (Tom Blake)

Warnings: fluff, slight angst

Word Count: 1432

A/N: idea from @blueeyedheizer 🥰🥰🥰

...

It was too close a call. They had barely made it out alive. Ringing in the ears from the explosion and the sudden change to the bright outside caused discomfort for the two young lance corporals.

Once the ringing subdued for Tom, he was met with the sounds of Will choking. Dust most likely from being buried alive underneath the German bunker they had just passed through.

Catching his breath, Tom turned to Will to check on him.

“Here.” Was all he spoke while handing over his petrol can of water. Without even a single word of gratitude, Will snatched the bottle and poured the water in his mouth, immediately spitting it out after to get rid of the taste of rubble. Then he used the last little bit to clear his vision.

“Thank you.” He gasped out while weakly handing it back to the younger soldier.

Tom took back the empty bottle with slight irritation, having no clue when they may come across clean water again on their long journey. As he went to place the bottle back in his harnessed satchel, he felt as though something was missing. His breath caught in his throat as he grabbed the casing to reveal it was empty.

“No, no, no!” He yells suddenly. Will jumps slightly at Tom's sporadic outburst.

“What?”

“My photograph, it’s missing!” He cries out, still looking inside the case, desperately hoping that the photo in question would magically reappear in its original spot.

“What photograph?” Will was getting slightly irritated. This mission was so crucial and time was of the essence, but here they were standing around as Tom panics about a piece of film.

“Of Y/N, it was the only photo I had of her when I left. I need that photo Will.” This was astonishing. Will had yet to see Tom be so vulnerable and sad. Of course he now understood how important this photograph was. Tom really only talked about three things- his family, his dog and you, but mostly you.

You were a muse for Tom, a motivator. You were the main reason Tom needed to come out of this war alive. He had promised he would marry you when he returned and by god he would never break a promise.

“Tom, I’m sure it’s around but we really don’t have the time.” Tom had already turned around and was speed walking towards the collapsed bunker.

He planted himself in a random spot amongst the destruction and began sifting through the rock and wood panels left behind.

“Tom.” Will said sternly. All he received in return was Tom speeding up his actions in a more frantic way. Sobbing was then added to the mix.

“Tom!” Will now yells, marching over and grabbing Tom by the arms.

“No, get off me! I need to find it!” Tom resisted heavily against Will as he tried to lead him away from the disaster.

“Tom we need to get to your brother.” Tom stopped and fell to his hands and knees, sobbing like no tomorrow.

“I can’t lose her Will.” He whimpers as his tears mix with the grey powdered rock beneath him.

“Tom we have to keep walking.” Tom stayed silent for a moment, regaining his composure and letting out a couple sniffles before standing up and dusting himself off,

“Let’s get to your brother yeah?” Will says grabbing Tom's shoulder and leading him away from where your photo was buried deep, never to be retrieved.

As they continued to walk, Tom visualized you in that photo. How your hair was pinned up in a messy bun, strands of hair slightly falling down from the up-do in different places. The dress you wore was a mixture of white and light blue lace and since it had been taken for your birthday, the necklace Tom had got you sat gently on your exposed upper chest.

Then after taking a hold of that image in his mind, Tom began repeating the words you had written on the back to himself;

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of being and ideal grace.

I love thee to the level of every day’s

Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

Come home to me Thomas

Always yours,

Y/N

You had bought him a book of poetry a couple years back and whenever he could he would read ‘How do I love Thee,’ by Elizabeth Barrett Browning to you underneath both your favourite cherry tree on his farm.

The importance of trying to remember how you looked in that photo as well as the words you had written down was almost impossible to explain. Tom had a bad feeling that if he were to die in this war, it would mean he wouldn’t ever see you again. Having that photo in his head would allow him to fill his mind with you as his final thought.

———

You sat on the porch impatiently causing loud creaking on the stairs from your leg bouncing. Tom would come home today.  You had longed to hold and kiss him after these 2 long agonizing years of separation. It was close to unbearable.

Myrtle laid at your feet as the puppies played in the grass not far from where you were. The cool November air nipped at you causing you to tug your knitted shawl tighter around your upper body.

The smell of a roast beef dinner wafted out from the kitchen window. Iris had missed her boys so much and this was her unique way of expressing her excitement and happiness. This was a ugly war, and you were just so grateful Tom was able to get out of there alive.

It felt like eternity. The sun was now setting, allowing oranges and pinks to fill your vision. Any cloud that sat in the atmosphere was tinted the same colour as the sunset as well. Because the sun was now falling behind the horizon, any heat that would have kept you at a somewhat comfortable temperature had disappeared. Myrtle and the puppies had all huddled up into your lap and around you, also feeling the coolness. But they waited, almost as though they knew Tom was coming.

You had been too preoccupied scratching behind Myrtles ear that you didn’t hear the heavy footsteps walking up the driveway. The crunch of the gravel alerted Myrtle and her head shot up, admitting a loud bark as she jumped away from your side and down to the two men approaching. You looked up to see a tired Tom and Joe bend down to greet the hyperactive dog as she jumped at their legs. The puppies had tried to follow their mom, allowing their tiny legs to carry them as quickly as they could.

Your shawl fell down your shoulders as your breath caught in your throat. Your stomach was holding a circus as you let out a scream,

“Tom!” You bolted down the steps and sprinted down to meet them. Tom’s eyes diverted from the labrador and gave you a beaming smile, starting his run in your direction. Meeting halfway you jumped into his arms, wrapping your legs around his torso. He let out a content laugh as you grabbed his face in your hands.

“Oh Tom.” You swooned as you sprinkled every single part of his face with kisses. He placed you down and grabbed your face as well, taking in your features.

“Just like the picture.” He whispered while using his thumb to wipe a tear away from your flushed cheek. You didn’t know what he was talking about but you didn’t care. You were just happy to see him again. You then bite your lip before slowly going in for another deep and intimate kiss.

“Nice to see you too Y/N.” Joe chuckled jokingly as both you and Tom stayed preoccupied with expressing your love for one another.

#dean charles chapman imagines #dean charles chapman x reader #1917 #tom blake #fanfiction #fanfic #romance

[valterras]

george mackay george mackay george mackay george mackay george mackay george mackay

george mackay george mackay george mackay

george mackay george mackay george mackay

george mackay george mackay

#george mackay #1917 #1917 fanfic #1917 headcanons #1917 review #1917 imagine #1917 x reader #tom blake #tom blake fanfic #tom blake x reader #will schofield #george mackay x reader #george mackay icon #dean charles chapman

[mydemimonde]

‘muse’ ch. 8 | matt (bbtl)

CHAPTER 8

A smile formed on Mia’s lips, hearing Matt’s sweet voice singing to her. It was his original song, one of the hundreds he wrote for her. She couldn’t help but blush any time he looked or winked at her. Once he finished playing, she applauded. Matt bowed his head.

“That was beautiful Matt. This is the best love song ever!” Mia was excited, just like a kid in a candy store. He giggled and put the guitar aside, next to the couch.

“You said the same about the 4 previous songs”

“Yes, but this” she pointed at the papers “is different”

“You said that too” he put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple.

“I’m serious Matt, you’re so talented. Not only at singing and playing, your writing skills are amazing”

Matt’s cheeks began to get a little bit of pink, amused by her praising. “Well, this is all thanks to you. My inspiration comes from you” he gave her a little peck on the lips, and she shook her head ‘no’.

“Don’t discredit yourself Matt, you’re so talented on your own. You and your band should be famous by now”

“We play every Saturday night at a pub, we already have fans. We’re still working on our demo, which is pretty good. And we’ll go on tours, I’ll take you with me. We’ll go to a lot of places, together” he locked his fingers in hers.

“I love the sound of that” she gave him a genuine smile and rested her head on his shoulder. They stayed there for a while, enjoying each other’s presence and warmth. Until the door snapped open. Emma.

Oh, oh.

Mia’s eyes went wide, she totally forgot about her. She felt a little bit bad and guilty. Emma and Matt were still dating before they kissed, and although she was utterly happy her feelings for Matt were mutual, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for Emma. Even if she was a total bitch.

Emma’s quirky smile slowly vanished when her eyes fell on Matt and Mia’s hands. He quickly got on his feet, Mia stayed there to watch the scene that will unfold in front of her.

“What does this mean, Matt?” her eyebrows were furrowed in confusion.

“Emma, we have to talk…”

“Talk about what? You’re cheating on me?” her voice began to raise, clearly showing she was angry. “And with her?!” she pointed at Mia, giving her a dead look.

And that’s when Mia’s guilt disappeared. She was a bitch. “Hey!”

“Emma, stop. Look, I’m sorry, but I’m in love with Mia. I always have been” he tried to reason with her, she looked like she had daggers in her eyes.

“You know what? Nevermind. I honestly think you two losers were made for each other. Good luck with your mediocre band Matt, and good luck Mia. He will get tired of you eventually” she spat furiously. She turned around and opened the door with anger.

But Mia wouldn’t get her get away with it. She approached Emma and grabbed a some of her hair, pulling it down. Emma let out a small cry and looked at the strand of the hair in Mia’s hand. Matt’s mouth fell open, surprised at Mia’s action.

“What the fuck?!”

Mia smirked and squinted her eyes. “I always knew you wore extensions” Matt supressed a laugh. “Now get out of here”

Emma was about to say something, but chose to snatch the strand of hair Mia pulled from her and leave. “Oh. My. God. What was that?”

“She deserved it. I won’t let her say those things about you” she said as a matter of fact, giving him a soft look.

“Not gonna lie, that was… hot” he wiggled his eyebrows and she laughed. He placed his arms on her hips, leaning forward. “And I won’t let anyone, ever, talk shit about my lovely girlfriend” he kissed her slowly and passionately, enjoying the tenderness of her lips. She continued the kiss, but pulled away a little.

“Girlfriend?” he nodded, maintaining eye contact with her. “Hmm, you never asked me properly” she joked and went to grab her bagpack, ready to go back to her house. After all, she had tons of homework, and she was hungry. Matt stayed there, shocked. “See you later Matt, I have to do homework” she kissed his cheek.

“Mia…” but she was already gone.

- - - - - - -

Mia closed her house’s door and quickly waved hello to her parents, then immediately ran upstairs, looking for her sister. She knocked on her door but didn’t wait for an answer, instead she opened it quickly. Nellie yelled, a bit scared. “Hey! Why would you do that? You scared the fu-“

“We kissed!” Mia’s smile was so big and bright, she was scandalously happy.

Nellie tilted her head, not quite understanding Mia. “What? Who? When?” she put the book down.

“Matt!” Mia went to sit next to her; her heart was beating incredibly fast.

“What?! For real?!” Mia’s older sister’s eyes widened. “Oh my God that’s fucking awesome!” she squealed and hugged her sister tight, they started to jump on the mattress. “Tell me everything right now, all the details” she grabbed her cup of tea from the night table and looked at Mia impatiently.

“Well, I went to his house to tell him that I was sorry for being such an asshole to him. I confessed my feelings for him, that I was avoiding him to protect my heart” she explained to Nell, whose ears pricked up. “I seriously thought that as soon as I confessed, our friendship was fucked. But he grabbed my hand and took me to his room…”

“Oh God Mia tell me you didn’t…”

Mia quickly slapped her shoulder. “No! Not yet, though” she winked and both giggled. “Let me finish” she sighed. “He showed me a lot of stuff he kept all these years. Pictures, drawings, the black bracelet I made for his birthday, and lots of songs he wrote. For me”

“Aww. That’s so cheesy” she pretended to be disgusted and faked throwing up, making Mia laugh.

“It’s sweet, shut up. Anyway” she took a deep breath. “He told me he felt the same, and that he’s been in love with me since we were children. Then we kissed” Mia’s facial muscles were hurting by now from smiling so much.

“Finally! It took both of you almost 10 years to realize it. I’m so happy for you Mia, I really am” she was being honest, nothing on Earth made her happier than seeing her little sister happy.

“Oh, but I haven’t told you the best part yet” she squinted her eyes. “Guess who showed up at Matt’s house”

Nell gasped. “Emma” Mia nodded. “Please tell me you fist fought her”

“I wish I had. I pulled a strand of hair, and that proved our theory. Emma effectively wears extensions”

Nell let out a loud laugh. “I knew it! We absolutely knew it. Oh, sweet Jesus, I wish I was there to see it” they stood there for a bit, until Mia remembered she had homework.

“See you at dinner Nell, I have tons of homework for tomorrow” she went to her room and sat in front of her desk to start writing her essay.

 After a delicious dinner and a warm bath, Mia was ready to go to bed. She had a long and tiring day, not only because of school, but also for everything that happened that afternoon. She still couldn’t believe that her best friend, the boy she fell in love with when she was 8, returned her feelings. The fact that she was his muse made her feel on cloud 9, she was the luckiest girl in the world.

Mia turned the lights off and was about to get on bed, when she heard a bang on her window. She gasped when she heard another bang, then another one. She decided to look, worried about the glass breaking. She muttered a ‘what the hell’ when she saw Matt standing there on the sidewalk, with a smile on his face. Mia opened the window.

“Are you out of your mind? You could have broken the window with the rocks you were throwing”

“I’m sorry, I needed to catch your attention. I need to tell you something”

“Couldn’t you wait until tomorrow? It’s late and I have school tomorrow”

“Nope” he proceeded to climb the wall, making his way to her bedroom.

“Matt, no!” she whispered loudly, worried about his safety. But it was late, he was already stepping his foot inside.

“If my parents find out you’re here, they’ll kick you out of the house”

“I don’t mind, I really need to ask you something” Mia rolled her eyes and sighed. “So, you told me I didn’t ask you properly, right?” he was out of breath for climbing up the wall.

“What?”

“Mia Bradley. Would you be my girlfriend?”

The corners of her lips slid upwards, but she tried to hide her smile. She pretended to doubt and think about his proposal, staring blankly at the ceiling. Matt seemed desperate. “Of course, Matt. I wanna be your girlfriend”

He closed his eyes and let out a sigh of relief. “Thank God” she giggled and grabbed his shirt to pull him closer, kissing him with passion.

tag list: @blueeyedheizer​

#dean charles chapman #matt blinded by the light #dean charles chapman blinded by the light #dean charles chapman imagine #dean charles chapman fanfic

[george-mackay-macfine]

Bad At Love

A/N I’ve been inundated with a lot of requests for Dean one-shots, and I realised there are little to no Dean centric fanfics, Oneshots etc... So I’ve repurposed an old story I was writing to fit as a Dean story. 

If you requested a Dean oneshot I am still working on them, but I wanted to show Dean some love. 

Introduction:

You know that feeling you get when you’re going down the stairs and you accidentally skip a step and you think you’re falling and you think you’re going to die but then your foot lands on the next step and it’s like nothing ever happened? Well if you multiply that feeling by one thousand, make it last so much longer, and mix it with hate, paint, satisfaction, anger, lust, relief, anxiety, passion, shock, guilt, denial and frustration then you’ll understand what it’s like to fall in love. To fall in love with someone so passionately that your world revolves around them, and what they're doing and how their feeling. At least that’s what it was like for me. 

Chapter One 

“The Beatles, White album… John Lennon, Milk and Honey… Stevie Wonder.” I mumbled to myself as I flicked through the crates filled with old vinyl before me. Brighton's was a popular vinyl store and cafe nestled in the outskirts of Georgetown. It was a diamond in the rough if you were looking for a good record store. Brighton's was filled with them, a two-story loft building packed to the brim with vinyl, new and old. The bottom level was sorted neatly into genres and then by the artists, but the top-level and my own personal favourite was where the crates filled with albums the owners haven’t got around to sorting yet, This is where you find all the gems.

“Writing a shopping list there Sienna?” I looked up from the Jimmy Buffet ‘Living and Dying 3/4 Time’ album I was holding to see my best friend Halley staring at me, amused pausing digging through her own crate. Her green eyes sparkling with excitement as she pushed her honey blonde hair behind her left ear. Her thin lips pulling into a knowing smirk. 

“If that’s what you want to call it Halley.” I laughed putting the Jimmy Buffett album on top of my other selections before sifting through the albums again. Bob Dylan… Bon Iver… I smiled over at Halley as we both listened to someone on the bottom level lift the arm off the player, the distinct sound of the record stopping filling the store before the sound of Elton Johns ‘Bennie and the Jet’s’ blasted through the sound system. I laughed at myself as I did a little shuffle to the music. Elton’s voicing rebounding around the room. 

“So.. Sienna.” I nodded my head for Halley to continue as I went back to my growing pile, hips swaying as I flipped through it again checking over everything I’d found. Bowie… Fleetwood Mac… “I was thinking about our plans for tonight.” Halley voiced hesitantly. I looked up at her, one of my eyebrows shooting up. She was biting her bottom lip as she held onto her own pile of vinyl, knuckles turning white from the grip she had on them a telltale sign she was nervous. 

“That could be dangerous.” I joked turning and making my way to the other side of the amply sized loft, looking down and over the bottom level of the shop littered with people, pulling vinyl out left, right and centre. I watched as a guy in his mid-thirties picked up a copy of Michael Jackson’s ‘Thriller’. “Do you think he’s going to buy it?” I called over my shoulder to Halley, not taking my eyes of the man. She sighed, but put her pile down none the less, and worked her way over to me, agitated that I’d changed the subject. “The guy with the Jackson.” I pointed down to him. “I think he will.” 

“I don’t think so.” Halley shook her head watching him with me. “He’s totally not into it.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes at Halley. “Alright then. Let’s make it interesting.” Halley turned to me, a smiling pulling on her lips and she toiled with an idea in her head. “If he buys it you get to choose what we do tonight.” I couldn’t help but smile already tasting the red wine and hearing the sweet sounds of Fleetwood Mac. “But.” Halley rudely shook me from my daydream. “If he doesn’t buy it, you have to do whatever I want to do tonight.” I opened my mouth to disagree but she held up her hand to stop me. “With a smile on your lips and pure joy in every step you take.” 

I looked between my best friend and the guy on the bottom floor. Judging quickly if I really thought he’d buy it, as I looked at him for the second time he’d started to pull the vinyl out and check the date stamped on it. I made up my mind. 

“You’re on.” With a final nod at each other, we both spun on our heels and leaned over the balcony watching the man below like hawks. “Come on man, you know you want it,” I whispered under my breath. “Just buy it already, come on.” I groaned as he flipped it over for what felt like the hundredth time. “Who doesn’t like Michael Jackson.” 

“He’s not going too.” I could hear the smirk in Halley’s voice. I ignored her and held my breath as he pushed the vinyl back inside its cover. Watching with wide eyes as he slipped it back into the crate it started in and turned away, walking down the centre aisle towards the door, crushing any hope I had of sitting home and drinking red wine with every step he took. 

“No.” I cried out loudly as he made it to the front door, people turned and looked up at us including the guy who’d just sentenced me to a night of Halley controlled fun. Waving awkwardly at everyone as Halley hooked an arm around my shoulder, pulling me closer to her body. She giggled as she squeezed my shoulder. 

“As I was saying before.” She cleared her throat. I could tell she was taking too much pleasure from the situation. “Tonight we are going to that new pizza place, the one Stacey was telling me about last week, Uncle Tony’s where we will find some cute boy’s to buy us beers.” She wiggled her eyebrow’s at my teasingly as she dropped her arm from my shoulder turning her body to face mine. “And then we are joining the girls at the Ivy to dance the night away and make sweet, sweet mistakes we won’t remember in the morning.” I opened my mouth to object to her plans, but Halley held a hand up to stop me. “You made a deal. You cannot back out Sienna Jacobs. I won’t let you.” She lowered her hand. “Now you will come back to our apartment, get yourself ready and we will have fun tonight. Have I made myself clear.” I nodded my head a slight pout on my lips. “Good, now go and buy your records.” She clapped her hands together gleefully. “Tonight is going to be so much fun.”

“So much fun,” I mumbled sarcastically as I walked back over to my deserted pile of treasures.  

One of the numerous things I had learned about Halley through our eighteen years of friendship was that Halley Morgan Adams was never late she despised it, that’s why not even five hours later I was sitting in the front seat of her yellow Kia Soul, dressed in a pair of skin-tight black jeans and a white t-shirt with Elvis Presley’s mug shot on it pouting my arse off. “Are you ready?” With a flick of her hair and a smile she started up the ignition and drove far to quickly to the new pizza place, ’Uncle Tonys’ that we’d been hearing non-stop raving reviews about for the last week and a half. For the first part of the ride I promised myself I wouldn’t speak to Halley, partly to punish her for the night we had ahead of us, and partly because I was upset that I wasn’t at home listening to my new records. However, when we’d been in the car for ten minutes with nothing but Taylor Swift playing through the sound system I resigned to my fate and turned it down, deciding a conversation was the lesser of two evils. 

“Are you excited to start classes again tomorrow?” I quizzed Halley as I watched the bright lights of the street pass us by. “In my opinion spring break went way too quickly, and we should have two more weeks off.” I nodded my head to reinforce my opinion causing Halley to chuckle. 

“You’re just saying that because you don’t want to have to put down the book’s you’ve been reading non-stop in exchange for a textbook.” She snorted out a laugh as she pulled to a stop at a red light. 

“Untrue. I just rather the works of Stephen King, over having to hand in assessment’s, any day.” She shook her head laughing at me. 

“You’re the one who wanted to become a big hot shot editor, now you have to pay the price.” She replied quickly taking off when the light turned green. “We’re here.” She smiled as she pulled into a carpark and began to drive around in a circle looking for a vacant spot. “There’s one.” She smiled proudly as she pulled into an empty spot putting the gear stick into park. 

“Don’t hate on my aspirations okay, Ms I wanna be an HR administrator,” I muttered as I unbuckled my seatbelt, pushing the door open. As I stood next to the car I looked over the stand-alone building. A fluorescent sign that read ‘Fresh Pizza’ glowed in the window. The outside housed tables with red and white checked cloths, couples and families sat laughing and enjoying the food before them. 

“It’s a realistic dream okay.” Halley glared over the car at me, before walking towards the trunk, stopping and looking over the building for herself. 

“C’mon.” She smiled delightedly as she skipped through the carpark towards the front door. I shook my head and followed behind her, watching as she happily waited by the door for me to catch her. “This place is so cute.” She called back, peering through one of the glass panels on the door as I reached her. “Oh, he’s even cuter.” She giggled pulling the door open, both of us stepping inside. 

Once inside Halley and I took a minute to look around. The walls were painted a soft yellow filling the whole inside with a soft warm glow, a wall of fake stones lined the far wall with paintings of olives hanging above each of the booths that ran along with the stones. All the tables apart from two booths were filled, a mix of college students and families occupying them filling the whole restaurant with a loud buzz. I guess we aren’t the only ones excited to try out the new pizza. Grabbing my hand Halley pulled me over and down to one of the empty booths, pushing me down onto the plush red seat before sitting down on the opposite side. 

“Can you believe how busy this place is?” She rolled her eyes as she put her clutch beside her on the seat. “You’d think people would have better things to do.” She looked around at the tables. I rolled my eyes and looked around the restaurant.  

“Wouldn’t that mean that we should have better things to do Halley?” She flipped me off quickly before waving down the waiter with a flirty smile. He smirked at her as he walked over from the bar leaning across the table to give her a wink as he pulled out his order pad and pen.

“What can I get you, ladies?” His eyes travelled up Halley’s body, stopping to check out her cleavage. Halley smirked as she ran a hand up and down his arm. 

“Can we get two beers and a large pepperoni pizza?” Halley looked at me raising an eyebrow in question. I nodded my head and looked around trying to avoid watching the scene that was playing out before me.  

“Of course, I’ll make sure it’s the next one to come out…” The boy stuttered out looking down at where Halley’s fingers ran up and down the length of his hand, with a nod the waiter walked away from us fanning himself with the pad turning to look back at Halley once more a goofy love-struck smile on his face. 

“You need to stop doing that to boys.” I laughed resting my chin on my palm as I looked around the restaurant. “Seriously one day, one of them is going to have a heart attack and we are going to be sued.” I leant across the table. “In case you didn’t realise. We don’t have enough money to be sued.” 

“We?” She questioned with a raised brow a smile pulling on her lips.

“You don’t think I’m going to let you go to jail on your own do you?” 

“This is why we are best friends Sienna.” She chuckled. “Where did that cute guy go?” She looked around through the crowd searching for whoever she saw through the window. That’s Halley Adams my boy crazy best friend. 

“The two beers and the pizza.” The waiter called placing a beer before each of us and the pizza in between. As he placed Halley’s beer in front of her I couldn’t help but notice the napkin with a scrawled number that went along with it. Halley smirked at me before winking at him. “Told you it’d be the next one out.”

“That you did. Thanks.” With a nod of his head, the blushing boy raced back behind the bar only to start chatting to his friend. I laughed and shook my head as I watched him point over to Halley. “He’s telling his friend isn’t he?” She asked looking down at the napkin picking it up. “Riley… Cute name.”

“Cute name, for a cute boy.” I shrugged playing with the ring that sat on my right ring finger, spinning it. “You know he probably stole this pizza from another table?” Halley looked up from the paper, “One that’s been waiting for way longer than us.” I emphasised leaning forward onto the table. 

“Least we didn’t have to wait.” She laughed picking up a slice, her eyes looked past mine before snapping back to me. “Don’t look now, but here comes my number one fan.” I turned and looked to where she was looking only a moment ago, finding exactly what she had seen. “Xander Preston… Even his name gives me the creeps.” Halley muttered as Xander stood up from one of the tables near the door sauntering across to us he glanced back at his friend they all cheered loudly at him when he turned back around, a smirk playing on his lips as he overconfidently strutted past a table filled with girls, winking at them. When he reached us he sat down beside Halley throwing an arm around her shoulders. Halley and I both looked at the offending object before looking to Xander. “Can we help you, Xander?” I watched as Xander pushed his black hair out of his brown eyes watching Halley as she spoke, concentrated on her lips. Halley tried to shrug his arm off her shoulder, shuffling down on the booth seat. 

“Just came to see my number one girl.” His fingers started to play with the thin strap of her dress, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, his arm still hugging her shoulders. He stopped, looking over to me. “And her best friend of course.” 

“Really Xander? Your ‘number one’ girl?” Halley rolled her eyes. Xander smirked wider as he lifted her chin with his hand.  

“C’mon baby, you know you are.” 

“You misplace something, Preston?” Xander jumped in his seat immediately removing his hand from Halley’s shoulder. “Or do you just enjoy touching girls who clearly don’t want to be touched by you?” My eyes flicked away from Xander to where the booming voice had come from, next to our booth stood a group of three guys. The one in front was muscular and well built, his forearms bulging as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Well?” His blue eyes shot invisible daggers into Xander’s body. Xander smiled awkwardly jumping out of the seat he was occupying and putting as much space between himself and Halley as he could scratching the back of his neck. I rolled my eyes as Xander started to splutter out a reply and looked past him to the two guy’s who stood behind the first watching the scene play out. I looked at all three of them, noticing they wore matching black t-shirts with The Ivy printed on them with gold stitching. 

“No I, I just… Halley is my…” Xander squirmed. I looked back to him watching silently as he looked between Halley and I waiting for one of us to save him. “We’re just…” He tried to explain to the intimidating stranger. “She’s my…” 

“Halley isn’t your anything, understand?” The stranger didn’t break eye contact with Xander. I looked at Halley whose mouth hung slightly open as she watched the stranger. “She is not a piece of meat. So if I see you lay a single hand on her ever again I’ll beat the shit out of you.” The guy leaned in closer to Xander. “You got that Preston?” Stranger number one hissed getting even closer to Xander’s face as he spoke, each word sounding more and more dangerous than the last. Nodding his head rapidly Xander scurried back to the table where his friends sat watching the whole fiasco play out before them.  Stranger number one stared Xander down for another minute before he turned back to the table leaning onto it slightly towards Halley. “Sorry about that,” Halley shook her head quickly. 

“No thank you for helping… I’ve been trying to get him to leave me alone for weeks.” Halley giggled as my eyes left Halley’s knight in shining armour once again and drifted over to the third member of the group. He looked as though he was twenty-four, standing with both his hands shoved deep in the pockets of his black skinny jeans like the others he wore the black shirt with gold stitching above the breast. I let my eyes run over his body, drinking in his features. Starting with the ink that covered his left arm where little space of bare skin remained untouched by the intricate tattoo’s wrapping around the exposed muscle. My eyes drifted up over his torso and to his face. He has a sharp jawline, standing out prominent, his cheeks tanned, and covered with days worth of stubble. His eyes were big and round, childlike almost, clouded a deep blue colour, bushy eyebrows following the curve of his brow bone. His nose appeared to have been broken before as it loomed over a pair of smirking lips. His hair was a dark shade of brown and styled into a presentable quiff. I was unable to stop myself from looking back at his eyes, where to my surprise he was already looking at me. Feeling my cheeks redden I looked down to the table trying to calm myself. 

“Don’t worry about it. That guy is a creep.” I felt Halley kick my shin under the table causing me to wince slightly and look up at her. I heard a deep chuckle come from one of the strangers. “Have a good night ladies.” I looked up once again to meet the eyes of the blue-eyed stranger, he smiled sightly as he turned on his heel and followed his friends towards the door. 

“Holy shit, do you know who that was?” Halley asked her lips pulled into a big smile. I shook my head and picked up my beer, sipping it. “Sienna, we were just saved by the three hottest bartenders who work at the Ivy.” She clapped her hands together. 

“You… They saved you.” 

“Semantics.” She giggled. “I can’t believe it… Those guys… I don’t think they’ve ever done that before… They don’t usually talk to people.” 

“What do you even mean ‘They don’t usually talk to people’. Halley that’s ridiculous. They’re just people.” I tucked some hair behind my ear. “Who are they anyway?” I asked as I grabbed a slice of pizza, pulling the toppings off to eat. She took a deep breath, preparing herself. 

“Okay, so the one who told Xander to back off, his name is George MacKay. He’s studying Mechanical Engineering. I can’t even count the amount of time’s I’ve drooled over him.” She picked up her own beer and took a sip. 

“That’s attractive.” 

“The quiet one at the back with the longer hair. Did you see him?” She ignored me only stopping when she waited for me to nod. “His name is Logan Daniels.” I nodded again. “He’s studying Microbiology. Super smart.” 

“Halley, you need to breathe.” 

“Can’t too excited.” I laughed shaking my head picking at the pizza again. “Okay, so the last one… The last one, with all the tattoos… His name is Dean Charles Chapman, he’s studying English Literature, he wants to become a journalist I think Stacey told me once. Stacey has been trying to get with him since she met him at the Ivy last year” My interest in him peaked as she spoke. “My God, I can’t wait to tell her all of this.” She beamed. 

“Have you ever spoken to him before?” I asked. “Or any of them?” Halley shook her head no. 

“Not really, maybe once or twice at the Ivy. You know the occasional ‘Sorry I just bumped into you.’ Or the ‘Can I get a vodka Redbull.’ But nothing that would explain that.” She started to fan herself. 

“Maybe he’s interested in you?” I shrugged my shoulders still picking at the pizza in front of me. 

“Do you think?” She asked her eyes going wide, cheeks flushing pink. 

“You never know.” I downed the last of my beer and threw a twenty dollar note on the table as Halley threw down another fifteen. “Let’s get to the club. I really don’t want to wait in line tonight.” 

Stale piss. 

From the minute we walked in the door’s it’s all I could smell. No matter how much this place was scrubbed from top to bottom, the scent never changed. No matter how much bleach was poured on the floor and smothered over surfaces, it would still smell like stale piss.

At least to me, Maybe it doesn't to other people. Maybe to others, it's still a place of joy, and happiness but now, to me it was the same mundane, piss scented bar. People come here to find love at the bottom of a whiskey filled glass, hoping for a night of meaningless passionless, lust-driven sex. Maybe sometimes they find it, maybe they don’t. Booths lined the walls where people sat drinking and talking, some girls begging for attention, others danced in their seats laughing at how silly they must look to onlookers like me. A couple of tables littered the area around the bar and barstools lining half the length of the bar.

“Come on Sienna, it’s a girl’s night, at least pretend to have fun.” Stacey pulls at my hand, her fake nails digging into my palm as her long blonde hair swirled around her face, her blue eyes large and round, her lips fake and pouted. “This is the promise land, any of these boys could be yours for the night.” She motioned around us as guys looked girls up and down as if they were some sort of meat on display at a butcher. “Maybe more, if you’re lucky.” She winked at me and giggled as she hit her hip into mine. I hate this place. It's not a promise land, where I can meet new and interesting people, hold intelligent conversations with people. All it is a place for twenty-something-year-olds to come in the chance of getting a quick lay. 

“I’m going to get a drink,” I yelled over the loud obnoxious music to Halley and Stacey. “I need to be wasted to be here.” 

“I’ll come.” Halley smiled grabbing onto my elbow. “Maybe we’ll see our friends again.” I rolled my eyes and pushed through the sweaty people nearing the bar. 

“As long as it ends up with me drinking alcohol that’s fine with me.” I pushed someone softly out of the way, worming through other bodies to get Halley and me to the front. “Excuse me,” I grunted as we made it out of the swarming crowd near the dance floor. We stopped to look over the bar, three bartenders stood behind it, each making a drink. 

“C’mon it’s less crowded over here.” Halley grabbed my arm around, as we headed down to the less populated end. I laughed and looked at which bartender was serving in the middle section of the bar. 

“Sure it doesn’t have anything to do with the bartender.” I looked over my shoulder to see George pouring whisky into a shot glass. 

“Are you having fun?” Halley yelled over the music ignoring me completely, turning her back on the bar. I nodded my head shrugging, indifferent. “Sienna, I wish you were having more fun.” She frowned reaching out grabbing my hand. 

“What can I get for you?” A deep voice rumbled from behind us over the music, I watched as Halley’s eyes went wide. She turned slowly to face George, who had a smile pulling on his lips. “Nice to see you again ladies.” I nudged Halley with my elbow. She snapped out of her daze and smiled politely. 

“Hi, uh, Yeah.” She shook her head. “I mean, thanks for that… tonight at Uncle Tony’s I mean…” I looked down and played with my rings as I waited for Halley to order drinks for both of us. “So you work here huh?” Halley tried. “I mean obviously you work here.” I watched on as Halley awkwardly found her ground, pushing her hair behind her ear as she laughed at herself. 

“Can I get you something.” A deep voice pulled me out of my thoughts. I looked up to see the guy with the tattoos - Dean - from tonight, leaning against the bar smiling down at me. I looked at the bottles shelved behind him as I walked up to the bar leaning on it, bottom lip slipping between my teeth as I thought. Finally, I gave up, looking from the bottles to him. 

“I'm not too sure... Why don't you surprise me?” I leant forward on the bar, getting closer to him, the light flowed around him making him look angelic. 

“Do you like sweet or sour?” His voice was husky as I maintained eye contact, trying not to lose myself in the blue of his eyes anymore than I already had. I couldn’t help my lips twisting up slightly at the comment.

“I’m feeling sweet tonight.” He chuckled white teeth exposing themselves as he smiled, turning his back to me. Grabbing the bottles of alcohol from the shelves behind me he turned his head slightly. I began to fiddle with my rings, twisting them a nervous habit of mine. 

“What’s your name?” I stopped, my hand's frozen on the bar, turning around to face me he was placing all the ingredient's on the bench in front of me. "Are you not allowed to tell me your name?" He smiled at me again and I was gone, a breathy smile escaped me as he smiled down at me.

“Sienna, And you? What's your name?" He continued to make my drink.

"Dean." I nodded my head. “It’s nice to meet you Sienna.”

"So what are you making there Dean?" I looked up at him again, he was still watching me, watching as I leaned forward lip in between my teeth, eyes curious as he poured the liqueurs out.

"Espresso martini." He started to shake it. I couldn’t help but roll my eyes and giggle. He stopped shaking and lent forward onto the bar."Don't you like Espresso Martini’s, Sienna?” The way my name sounded coming from him made my stomach flutter. Feeling dangerous and unlike myself, I lent towards him. 

"It's okay. I mean it’s literally the martini version of the classic ‘white girl’ drink of vodka Redbull. A basic drink, easily done and something I can recreate at home, But I’ll give it a try." I leant forward towards him, our noses almost touching, I could feel his breath against my skin. "Who knows maybe you do it differently to the others… Better perhaps.”

“I definitely do it better.” We weren’t talking about the drink anymore. He replied pulling away to finish the drink, only looking up when it was finished. "One hopefully not boring Espresso Martini." He smirked at me causing me to giggle. I pulled my card from my wallet and went to hand it to him. He shook his head and pushed the drink closer to me. "Don't worry about it. It's on me.” 

"Dean, I insist." I pushed the card out towards him again, he put a hand up to stop me from trying anymore.

"It's fine. Enjoy your night." He collected everything he’d used for the drink, turning to put it back into the respective spots. 

"Dean." He turned around; I was still in my previous spot, watching him as he worked. He walked closer, leaning slightly across the bar. I smiled up playfully and before I even knew what was happening, What I was doing. I’d leaned up and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank-you," I whispered into his ear, my cheek still pushed against his. “I’m sure the drink is delicious." I pulled away, picking up the drink, walking away, with one final glance over my shoulder. He was leaning on the bar, a devastatingly handsome smile on his face. 

“Sienna, there you are.” Stacey grabbed my shoulder pulling me to a stop. A bit of my drink spilled onto the ground, splashing over her shoes. “Sorry.” She looked over her shoes before back to me. “Have you seen Halley?” I shook my head. 

“Last I saw her, she was at the bar talking to one of the bartenders, George.” I looked back to the bar to see Halley still where I’d left her. Smiling as he handed her a drink. She smiled and waved before making her way over to us. “Here she is.” 

“Sorry.” She apologised. “George and I got to talking.” There wasn’t a trace of remorse in her tone as she giggled. She looked at me as my eyebrow corked up. “I’ll explain later.” I nodded my head, bringing my drink to my lips. I sipped carefully. The mix of vodka, coffee liqueur and espresso dancing across my tongue, rich, indulgent and creamy. Dean was right, he does do it better. 

“Whose dancing with me?” Stacey changed the subject, her eyes still on the bar… On George and Dean. “Because, ladies there are so many young, attractive males here tonight, who I think to deserve a show.” I followed her eyes, she was watching Dean as he threw a piece of ice at George laughing when it hit his friend in the back. I turned back, looking at Halley.

“What do you say?” Halley smiled. Her eyes went to the bar, to George. I smiled weakly.

“Look’s like we’re dancing.” I grabbed Halley’s hand, dragging her behind Stacey onto the dance floor. “You better put on a good show for him.” I moaned. “Because I could be home right now, listening to Jimmy Buffet on cheap shitty red wine.” She shook her head. 

“You’re always drunk on cheap shitty red wine.” She taunted back. “But I will put on a good show.” She smirked, swaying her hips. “He watching?” Quickly I darted my eyes to the bar… To George. His eyes were on Halley. 

“He’s watching.” 

Sweat. Smoke. Alcohol. Body odour. That’s all that I could smell wherever I went, wherever I turned. Around me bodies moved pushing themselves up against any surface they could, grabbing onto other people as their bodies gyrated against another person. 

“C’mon Sienna. Dance with me.” Halley grabbed my hands. 

“Halley you know I hate to dance, it’s not something I’m good at. It’s -.”  

“Sienna.” I was cut off by a boy who came up stopping beside us, slinging an arm around my waist pulling me into an awkward side hug fingertips digging into my skin as the material of my t-shirt lifted. I vaguely recognised him from my communications class, but we weren't friends so nothing made this encounter less uncomfortable. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” He yelled over the music before he looked at Halley and smiled I waited for him to remove his arm from my waist but he never did, which caused me to raise my eyebrow at Halley. “Sorry, my names Henry. Sienna and I share a communications class.” Henry that’s what his name was… Henry.

“Halley,” She said extending an arm to Henry following it with a deathly glare. Henry smiled, extending his own hand to Halley. Shaking his hand, she didn’t drop her glare. “Nice to meet you.” 

“You ladies having a good night?” Henry slurred, words joining each other in a drunken fashion, his weight shifting onto me. 

“We are, thanks,” I yelled back, hoping he’d catch my tone.

“Me too.” He ran his free hand through his hair. “I’m fucked though. The boys and I have been drinking since four this afternoon.” He chuckled stupidly. 

“Wow, I’m surprised you’re standing.” Halley deadpanned. 

“Do you want to dance Sienna?” Henry smiled down at me.

“I don’t really dance.”

“I can teach you.” His drunken smile widened as his hand dropped down to grab mine, pulling me away from Halley before I could object. I stumbled my way through the crowd trying to loosen Henry’s grip on my hand, hoping I could lose him in the crowd when Henry stopped. I looked around smiling awkwardly trying to figure out how exactly people moved to this kind of music. Studying how they rocked their bodies somewhat in tempo with the music. “You don’t like Iggy?” Henry asked, mouths moving to the song. I shrugged again. 

“I’m not good at dancing, remember.” I shrugged and started to sway side to side holding my hands together hoping Henry wouldn't grab hold of them again before I figured out a way to leave without offending him. There was nothing worse than a white boy who got rejected. Against my highest hopes, he grabbed my hands and started to pull them above my head and make me move more freely or so he thought, it couldn't have felt any stranger for me than it did. He kept this up for a while before he pulled me closer to him so his body was pressed against mine attempting to get our bodies to move as one to the music, thrusting his hips into mine, his lips going to my neck his nose travelling along the length of it before he planted a kiss on my collar bone. Suddenly I couldn’t breathe, Everyone was standing too close to me and I forgot how to breathe.

“You look really good Sienna.” 

“I need some water,” I said quickly pulling away from him and rushing off the dance floor. I reached the water station at the bar, pouring myself a cup and downing it.  

“Easy tiger.” I looked up to meet the worried eyes of George “Are you okay?” I nodded my head and poured another drink. “You’re Halley’s friend right?” He held his hand out. “I’m George.” I extended my hand and opened my mouth ready to reply. 

“Sienna there you are.” My eyes widened as I heard Henry yell from behind me. “Why’d you run back there?” I turned and tried to answer but he just got closer. “I thought we were having a good time.” 

“I just really needed water.” I motioned behind me. “Worked up a thirst.” 

“But things were just getting started.” Henry smiled, a smiled I’m sure he thought would have me weak at the knees as he reached around and grabbed onto my ass and give it a squeeze.  

“Hey.” I yelped, trying to back away. 

“Did you seriously just grab her,” George growled from behind me. 

“She liked it, don’t worry big guy.” My mouth dropped, hands going up to his chest. 

“What the fu—.” 

“Sir.” We both looked over to see a tall, built security guard standing near us. “I’m going to need you to come with me.” Henry pushed himself away from me, knocking me back into the wood of the bar. “You need to leave the premises.” 

“I’m not even drunk.” He argued. “You can’t kick me out for being sober.” 

“You need to come with me sir, you’re making a scene.” 

“S, Are you okay?” Halley whispered in my ear as she rushed up to stand beside me. 

“Why am I being kicked out.” Henry continued to argue chest puffing out. 

“One of our staff advised us that you are too intoxicated to be on-premises.” The security guard got closer. 

“Who told you that.” 

“Don’t make me throw you out.” Henry took one look between me and the guard.

“She’s not even worth it.” He looked at me once again scoffing and pushing past us. The guard nodded at us before following him out. 

“Sienna” I heard from behind me. I turned to see George still standing behind us, leaning down on the bar. “Are you sure you’re okay? You rushed out of there pretty quickly.” I let my head fall back against the brick wall next to the water fountain.

“Yeah, he was just giving me a weird vibe.”

“So he’s not your boyfriend.” Halley and I shook my head. “So you’re single.” I nodded. “Thank god. We had reports of him spiking other girls drink. When Dea - One of the guys saw him dancing with you, he got Big Mike involved.” 

“Thanks, George.” 

“Come on Sienna, Let’s get you home.” I let Halley pull me to the door, Stopping to say goodbye to Stacey and the other girls as we made our way to the door. I looked back to the bar where  I saw Dean on the way out a girl sitting in front of him at the bar, running a hand up and down his arm. He wasn’t watching her though, His eyes were on me. With one final look at Dean, Halley pulled me out the door and back to reality.

#dean charles chapman #Dean Charles Chapman x reader #Fanfic #george mackay #george mackay x reader #George MacKay fanfic #GeorgeMackay #George MacKay Imagine #Dean Charles Chapman Imagine #Dean Charles Chapman Fanfic

[daydreamngs]

Call Me Will | William Schofield

requested: Hi! Could you please write a schofield x reader fic where the reader joins schofield and blake to deliver the message? Love your writing btw (send me some requests!)

warnings: Fluff

word count: 1,242

a/n: Back on my writing nonsense! I hope this is alright, I haven’t written in a hot second so this might be a little rough. Also I love this concept and might continue this in more chapters? If anyone would be interested in that! ♡

It was odd, why were they risking a nurse? It wasn’t common for them to send valuable nurses away in a time of need but Y/N was not going to question it. She was told to follow her orders and be good, so that was exactly what she was doing, but that didn’t mean that she wasn’t curious and hesitant about said orders. She wasn’t exactly sure as to what was happening, the men in charge were very brief with her only telling her that she was to go with two men to deliver an important message, as to what that message was she did not know. It must have been very important if they were allowing a nurse to go with them. Y/N figured her only use would be to be there in case of a medical emergency, but still, she’d be dead weight to the soldiers. Her life might be at more risk and she would be putting theirs in risk too as she was not the one wielding a gun in order to protect herself. Her life was in the hands of two men she did not know, and if they would bother to protect her was something that truly terrified her. This was just too odd all the way around. 

“Why the hell is she comin’ with us?” It was a shocked, and almost angry whisper that wasn’t so quiet. Her eyes were glued on the ground for a moment before she glanced up to look between the two men. One was a little shorter, and plumper with all the layers compared to the other, not that she cared, and the other man was rather tall and slimmer. Both noticeably handsome. Her eyes couldn’t help but linger on the taller man, despite trying to pull them away. Hadn’t it been under this situation, she might be blushing to be in the company of such handsome men, but this was no situation for such a thing. “I really don’t know.” The taller one responded with a confused and exasperated tone to his voice. The woman couldn’t help but sigh in response to their conversation, “I’m sorry to interrupt, but I’m just as confused as both of you. I don’t see the sense in this, as many ways as I look at it I just don’t see it. I may be a nurse and I might be helpful in the scenario that someone gets hurt, but I don’t wield a weapon and I’ll only slow you down in the long run. But, there isn’t anything we can do about it, orders were clear, as much as we may dislike them.” Silence falls around them after that, wide eyes staring at her as she stared back. The taller one was the first to nod his head, sniffing as he rubbed the back of his neck. “M’ Schofield.” He introduced himself, and then the shorter one, “Blake. Tom Blake.” Y/N nods her head, a small smile gracing her lips, “Y/L/N, but I prefer Y/N.” These were the men that her life was in the hands of and vice versa. At least they were nice, unlike some of the men she’s met while being a nurse for the war. “We really ought to get goin’ now, we only have a short time to get there.” The man whose name she now knows as Blake says. Suddenly it felt too real, and dread filled her stomach to the brim and a dark expression drug her features down. There was a bad feeling in her, and she just couldn’t shake it off. 

Much to her surprise, the men in charge had offered her a change in clothing. A uniform just like the soldiers were wearing, they said it was so she wasn’t as noticeable in her nurse uniform. She was grateful for that, the thought of doing everything she’d need to do in her nurse uniform was something that she knew wouldn’t have worked well together. It was a tad big on her form, but that wasn’t something she was going to complain about. It would provide a bit more warmth than her thin dress and some layers, and it would also make it easier to move. Y/N wasn’t really sure as to what she should be doing, so she watched carefully whenever Schofield and Blake made advances. Her hands shook in fear and her stomach churned with nerves, the mud was quick to cling to her skin and clothing, making her body noticeably heavier. At least she didn’t have the heavy bags on her like the two soldiers who she was accompanying, that was another thing she was grateful for. In that moment, for every bad thing that was happening, she tried to find a good thing - there were very few - in an attempt to keep her sane. As she crawled through the mud, trying to stay really as low as possible, her eyes looked around her trying to keep an eye out for anything. It wasn’t until the men slowly stood up that she did too, almost mirroring their actions. She felt the need to stay close behind them just for her own safety, though she didn’t want to be too close in case it’d bother them for any reason. When she signed up to become a nurse in the war, she was not expecting this to happen, not even in the slightest. 

It was eerily quiet, the foul smell that followed them everywhere had made her gag once or twice before she had started to somewhat used to it - not that she ever really would. Her watchful eyes took note of everything, including how close that Schofield was standing to her, how he slowed his long stride in order to allow her to stay close. How he kept glancing back at her, only for a second before he looked back in the front, surveying the land. It seemed as though he was making sure she was okay, that she was safe. The thought made her stomach stir, maybe she could rely on them more than she thought she could. It was comforting, made her feel the slightest bit safer in the war zone where anything could happen. They continued on a few more steps before the sound of an airplane ripped through the air, leaving Y/N terrified and clueless as to what she should do, skin blossoming with goosebumps. Schofield grabbed ahold of her hand quickly and dragged her with him to a part in the dirt that was almost carved out, perfect for hiding. Bodies were pressed tightly against one another in an effort to all squeeze together. “Stay still.” It’s said in a rush, but quietly as they sat stiff, balled together. Y/N held her breath as they passed over, her eyes pricking with tears as she sat as still as she could. It wasn’t until Schofield looked up and announced it was one of there’s that she finally let out her breath and tried to relax her stiff body. She looked down and saw that Schofield and she were still gripped to each other. Hands tightly holding on for dear life, his shoulders overlapping hers in a somewhat protective manner. She smiled softly as they stood, “Thank you, Schofield.” His tired eyes looked into hers and nodded his head. A soft smile graced his lips in return. “Will, call me Will.”

#William Schofield #william schofield imagine #william schofield x reader #william schofield fluff #william schofield fanfic #george mackay #george mackay fanfic #george mackay imagine #george mackay x reader #george mackay fluff #dean-charles chapman #dean winchester imagines #1917 imagines #1917 #reader insert #tom blake x reader #fluff

[inglourious-imagines]

I saw this movie - 1917 - on Friday night (three days ago) and I just can't stop thinking about it! I was a little afraid of what the movie will be like because of all the hype around it, I was hearing only GREAT references about the movie.

(tbh i was so freakin excited too 'cause I've been following the journey of the film for sooo long haha)

I personally think I know a lot of stuff about WWI but I still did some extra research so I can compare and stuff you know.

THIS MOVIE TOTALLY GOT ME. I DON'T KNOW WHAT I WAS EXPECTING BUT IT WAS SO BEAUTIFUL.

The actor's work, the cinematography, the effects, everything. I loved it. It looked so real. They were right about the movie.

I really wanna thank Sam Mendes, the director, for the amazing job (as always - for example he directed Skyfall) and also a HUGE thank you and RESPECT to the actors George and Dean. They did an extraordinary job on it and I just wanna say I believed them every word they said.

So I was wondering people, is anyone here interested for some 1917 imagines hehe? Just hit me up or something and I'll try my best to write it!

Also, just a reminder: the writing is based on the actors portrayal, not the actual heroes. ♡

#1917 #1917 imagine #george mackay #sam mendes #war #world war 1 #imagine #fanfic #story #william schofield #william schofield imagine #dean charles chapman #andrew scott #richard madden #benedikt cumberbatch #colin firth #schofield #thomas blake #thomas blake imagine #schofiel imagine #mackay