#dean-charles chapman x reader

[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.

#dean-charles chapman #dean charles chapman #dean-charles chapman fanfic #dean charles chapman fanfic #dean charles chapman x reader #dean-charles chapman x reader #dean charles chapman smut #dean-charles chapman smut #dean charles chapman one shot #dean-charles chapman one shot #dean-charles chapman imagine #dean charles chapman imagine #dean-charles chapman fanfiction #dean charles chapman fanfiction

[goeatsomelife]

The Teasing Game ✦ Part 3

Warnings: angst, swearing

Pairings: George Mackay x Reader

Read PART 1 PART 2

Summary: Teasing game with George, but you developed romantic feelings for him. Can you resist your desire to save a family, or you will fight for your love? Another Unpleasant Plot Twist awaits you in the end! You are Dean-Charles Chapman’s sister. 1506 words

Author’s Note: Yeah, I finally get inspiration to continue this story and OH boy, another plot twist awaits you in the end. Please, like and reblog, if you follow the story! Thank you for your kind comments!

Savoring the sweet and sour taste of spicy homemade apple pie you thought about future meeting with George. It was Wednesday. In an hour he will pick you up. You thought about the past, questioning the results of your teasing game. You wondered if it was worth it. Who started it? You thought it’s just a game, but you caught feelings for George. After meeting his “beautiful” girlfriend you’ve decided to quit drooling all over his blue eyes. But time heals everything and now your anger was almost invisible. Your sweet slumber was interrupted by a ring of a doorbell, making your heart skip a bit. You fixed your hair, taking a look at yourself in the mirror. You will let him suffer…in a good way.

"Hey," yeah, it's awkward. He was standing in your doorway, wearing a cozy grey sweatshirt. His hair was slightly messy, some of the wheaten locks were falling on his eyes. His eyes like the sky, clear and beautiful. He made you feel weak, so you allowed him to take you to his car.

"So..." You pinched the fabric of your dress, trying to not sound nervous. "Where are we going? You're not planning on murdering me in the forest?" You've noticed that you drove outside the city. Along the road where only high green trees. It seemed like a labyrinth, that you were willing to solve.

His laugh was mesmerizing. Hearing his velvet voice you can't hold yourself from smiling. He noticed that with his peripheral vision, but you quickly changed your facial expression.

"It's a surprise!" He really thought of a date when he needs an explanation to do? He has a girlfriend after all.

"Seriously? I don't want to go on dates with you! I just want an explanation. That's all," You can see a sadness in his eyes. Your words get him. Bingo! One point to you.

"It's going to be a long story, so buckle up".

We made it to the final destination. It was a beautiful meadow surrounded by wildflowers of different colours. There was a thin rippling mountain river. Sounds of water always made you calm. George knew what he was doing.

"I thought it's going to be easier for you to digest information in the place like this," sometimes you think that he was reading your mind. He looked around the place we were staying and unfolded the blanket, laying it on the flat ground. He grabbed a bag from the trunk and started placing food: homemade lemonade, sandwiches with ham and cheese, fresh vegetables.

"What is this?" You took one piece of what seems like brad or something.

"It's a banana bread" you love everything baked, so you didn't want to wait before you took a whole piece of delicious food in your mouth, chewing it proudly.

"Mm it's tasty!" You sat on the blanket with a big smile on your face. Maybe, this day won't that bad.

"I made it myself" you can't believe it. Gosh, Meghan is a lucky bitch. Getting a man like that.

You were eating a second sandwich, stomachs full. Lemonade in your cups.

"Tell me when you ready to listen," George said, his eyes looked dim. He was nervous. You didn't want to ruin that perfect moment. How good it would be if there was no girlfriend, no work, no feelings. Only this perfect moment. Sun was caressing your skin with warm beams.

"I think I'm ready! Tell me everything" Here we go. Buckle up Y/N, we’re going down!

"I want to be honest with you. This is why I've decided to get you here. It's my secret spot," he looked around again with a proud smile. "I get here every time life gets too harsh on me. HeIe is quite"

"I understand why. Here's beautiful, George" you said, convincing that you believed his words. The spot is really amazing, but what's that bad happening in his life? He has a girlfriend and a career. Is it a trick to appease you and get you to believe in whatever he will say?

"Will it be too cheesy if i will say it's beautiful like you?" You chuckled. He knows how to clear the air. At that moment you realized how comfortable you were with him. No awkward silence, no misunderstanding. You didn’t felt that good with someone in a long time. Too bad he lied, too bad he has a partner. Maybe it will be okay to be just friends?

"We were dating with Meghan before 1917 release. She was kind and supportive. I've never loved her, but I can't deny sympathy. But when we started planning on 1917 something changed in here. I told her about how big this project is, so she started to demand more from me. She asked for expensive presents almost every fucking day, spent less time with me, more with her friends, I was like a wealthy daddy who will pay on her every wish."

"Dzaddy," you laughed again. Now was your turn to clear the air. He chuckled bitterly. Probably, it was too serious for him, you didn’t even know what’s will come next.

"Our relationship was toxic, so I quitted it. Little did I know. Before the premiere, she came to my house with the pregnancy test. There weIe two lines. I still can't believe it," he hid his face in his hands. You flinched. You didn't even realize tha I your mouth was agape. She is pregnant. What an unexpected turn. You'd stand up and go home, but curiosity overpowered so you stayed still, waiting for the continuation.

"She threatened me, said that she will go to the police and say that i raped her! She didn't want to let me go... I'm stuck in this relationship. And ..soon I'm going to be a dad...I guess." you tried to digest all of the information. Soon you came up with some questions.

"Did you have an intimacy before made it quit?" It was quite a personal question, but he was willing to open up to you.

“No. That's the case. But I can't prove anything!" his voice was desperate.

"So you think it's not your child?" you asked curiously, with hope in your eyes.

"Maybe...maybe mine. I'm not sure about anything. Everything that I cared about before was work, but now... I'm so frustrated and exhausted. I didn’t tell it to anyone before, because I wanted to sort thing by myself. But with each day it gets worse. She’s hiding behind pregnancy and ruins my life, steals my money," he was broken. You couldn't sit there when he was nearly crying. You felt horrible. You sat closer, carefully laying your hand on his back, patting it.

"George..." You couldn't come up with the right words, don't want to make everything worse. You wanted to help him, but you need time to figure out how. It was disgusting how someone can treat his partner like that. And for what? For money?

"But what made me believe in the light at the end of the dark tunnel...it's you" you tried to find his eyes, but he was hiding his face in his arms.

"You made my life a little bit easier. But fucking Meghan ruined everything again." You put your hand on his, squeezing it lightly and moving it away from his face. His hand was big and warm. Something drove you to him, and you couldn't resist this power. But you must listen to your common senses.

"I can't be with you when this woman carries your child. It would be cruel to you and to her. Maybe she is carrying YOUR child," you couldn’t believe your words. You didn't want to break him, but you can't be with him in this situation. His back muscles tensed, and you felt this with your hand.

"See...You're different," he said, weakly holding your hand in his arms, playing with the ring on your finger.

"But I want to make your life easier." He raised his face to look in your eyes. His eyes were tearing up. You didn't even realize that the sun was setting on the horizon before you noticed how his tears reflected the light. He was like a lost child, trying to find his mum. Suddenly his hands landed on both sides of your face, sending warmth and shivers through your body. You couldn't hide your eyes. You were mesmerized and it drove you crazy. What you were doing?

"I like you Y/N," and your lips met each other in a slow waltz dance, savoring every moment. His lips were soft and wet. You felt the saltiness of his tears.

"I wanted to do it for so long Y/N," he parted for a moment, searching for acceptance in your eyes. You couldn't resist desire, that was driving you to him from the first day you've met, so you reconnected your lips, deepening the kiss. It was a positive answer to his intentions. You were sinking in the turquoise waters of your feelings, now you're not going to be saved. Oh god... what you've got yourself into?

I hope you didn’t forget about this story @fandom--0verdose​?

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #george mackay fanfiction #george mackay imagine #1917 #1917 imagine #spring moodboard #true history of the kelly gang #dean-charles chapman #dean-charles chapman x reader #dean-charles chapman imagine #ophelia #how i live now #imagine #fanfiction

[strangethings-everywhere]

D.C.C. Dating Headcanons

So you wanna date the world’s most precious boy... (Requested by anon) Masterlist

first of all dean is baby. we’re just getting that out of the way

anyway you two met of the set of 1917 because SOMEONE (you) had to spread mud n shit all over his face and make it look good

you spent so much time with him because he was constantly covered in mud. like all the time. 

after spending an entire film painting him with mud (which lets be honest is the best job you’ve ever had) he finally asked you out 

george takes all the credit for this because he says that dean was nervous

dean says that george is being mean to him

but once you two are dating, uGH its heaven

first of all, dean is a SNUGGLER

OH 

THE 

SNUGGLES

he’s like a teddy bear and will cuddle you forever. if he could make it so, you two would never leave the couch. or the bed. or the blanket fort 

hes the big spoon DEAN CHARLES CHAPMAN IS THE LITTLE SPOON 

so anywho

he also gives out so many kisses

and listen i’m not talking about mouth kisses here no no no

if you two are sitting on the blanket fort couch watching a movie or somethin, he will just lean over and pepper you with kisses on the cheek or the forehead. Just because he loves you

he also will kiss the back of your hand whenever you two are holding hands. just because he can

 He pretends that he’s a big tough boy and all that but when you lean in and plant a sweet kiss on his cheek or the tip of his nose... he’s a goner

you move in with him after about two months of dating and it’s heaven

waking up every morning to dean’s arm around your waist, soft kisses, dean’s accent: morning voice edition?

p o e t i c  c i n e m a 

also boy can cook breakfast and he does cook breakfast for you :)

in conclusion

you are happy with this literal ball of sunshine and he loves you with all his heart -----------

I hope you enjoyed this! This was my first time doing headcannons and it was fun, so I might do more in the future :)

#dean charles chapman #dean-charles chapman #dean-charles chapman imagines #dean-charles chapman headcannons #dean-charles chapman x reader #tom blake #1917 #my requests

[daydreamngs]

No Regrets | Dean-Charles Chapman

requested: Hello love! I haven’t seen a lot of imagines with Dean out there, so I was wondering if you could write something with him? Maybe that the reader is also an actress and their relationship just went public so it is a little bit about how they act with each other now that everybody knows..? Btw I love all your work with George! (send me some requests!)

warnings: Fluff

word count: 1,214

a/n: Tbh I had been wanting to write some Dean content so this was the perfect reason to do so. But, I hope this is okay! ♡ 

It was so odd, it felt like it should’ve felt normal but it really wasn’t. It wasn’t like no one knew about Y/N and Dean, their families knew and their close friends of course. Their relationship wasn’t something that Dean wanted to hide, he was very close with his family and Y/N was an important part of his life so it was quite natural for him to open up about her. The same with Y/N, she’d been very open with her family about Dean once he became a big part in her life, which seemed to happen fairly quickly. Then came introducing them to their friends, which was pretty normal and okay feeling. The only people who didn’t know about their love for one another was the outside world, the cameras that followed them around, the fans and interviewers. At first it was hard, it was hard to not be lovely in public, or be seen together too often in order to keep their life somewhat private while being under the spotlight. While it was hard at first, it became a little bit easier for them. Though, once they realized that they didn’t want to stay private anymore and just wanted to be able to love one another openly without a worry of who might see, it was more odd, being so open and vulnerable to the world. 

It started with an interview that Y/N had for a movie she acted in, which really wasn’t much to her surprise. “So,” the interviewer crossed her legs and leaned forward, and excited smile on her face as she tucked the cards she had in her hands under her leg, “A little birdy told me that you have someone that’s stolen your heart.” And there it is, Y/N still smiles politely as she intertwined her fingers and leaned back in the chair comfortably. “Your little birdy is right, I do. He has stolen my heart, and I can confidently say that I’ve stolen his too.” She responds, meaning every word of it but something about it felt wrong. Speaking about him so openly like this for millions of people to see. She wished it hadn’t felt normal to hide it anymore, but it did. Her answer pulled an excited response for her interviewer, “How long have you two been together? You two are public now, but I have a feeling you were together for a while before that.” Now she’s a little uncomfortable, but she stills continues to smile, though she shifts in her spot, “Uh yeah, we were but I’d rather keep that a secret just for us.” She tries to be nice about it, not wanting to come off as rude so she plays it off with a joking tone and a wink to make it seem friendly. The interviewer must have gotten the hint because she quickly goes back to the topic of the movie, which Y/N is grateful for. As much as she loved Dean, it would get some taking used to be to being public with the world, after having it been their little secret between friends and family. “So, moving on ...”

Then it was them being together in public, Dean’s arm slung over Y/N’s shoulder and she held her arm up to hold his hand, leaning into his side every once in a while as she laughed at something he said. For a moment it felt like they were normal, like they weren’t well known people in the acting industry. It was amazing, almost like a dream, until they saw an all too familiar flash from the other side of the street, and then it wasn’t anymore. Of course they had to be seen, an annoyed sigh feel from Y/N’s lips, “Are you kidding me.” It’s said in almost a whine. Dean rubs his thumb over the back of her hand in a soothing manner, “Just ignore them.” Oh how they both wished they could, but that proved to be harder than expected as the man taking photos of them quickly made his way across the street and followed after them in an attempt to pry answers from them. “Y/N, Dean, lovely evening isn’t it? It’s beautiful, just like seeing the two of you together. I see you two are becoming used to the public life already, how’s that going for you?” “It’s going great, man. Now, if you’ll excuse us please.” Dean said politely, though there was a touch of desperation to it, trying to get the guy to take the hint and back off. Unfortunately that wasn’t the case, the man proceeded to try and ask more questions while obviously recording them until they had finally moved far enough away that he just kind of gave up, thankfully. They could both agree, that was the part of fame that wouldn’t mind giving up, but sadly it was apart of the territory and they truly loved their jobs. What would life been like for them, hadn’t they chosen to become actors?

As they finally made their way back to their home safely, an exhausted sigh fell from Y/N’s lips as soon she opened the door. She was so grateful just to be in the comfort of her home, with her loving boyfriend, and maybe a cup of tea with a cookie later. “Well, that was unexpected.” She looks back to him to see him nodding in return, looking just as tired as she felt. Dealing with paparazzi was always exhausting, no matter what, it just sucked the energy from you. Y/N kicked her shoes off, pulling her hair out of her face, then plopped onto the sofa. As soon as Dean sat next to her, she nestled herself into his side, and Dean comfortably wrapped his arms around her. Her head rests on his shoulder, eyes staring at the blank TV screen, clearly in thought. “I thought it wouldn’t be weird, but it is. I miss people for some reasons, but I’m also glad we don’t have to worry about holding hands or even being seen together anymore. ” It’s said with a sigh, her hand moving to hold his in her lap, fingers playing with his subconsciously. Dean nods, understanding completely. “It’ll die down soon, ‘m sure of it. They can’t be obsessed with us forever, now can they. I know we’re a hot couple power and all but still.” He jokes, earning a laugh from the girl. He presses a kiss to the top of her head, “You don’t think we made a mistake going public, do you?” His question makes Y/N shift her head to look at him, eyebrows furrowed. “Definitely not, I want people to know that we’re together. I want to be able to hold your hand when and wherever I want too. We made the right decision, I know that for sure. I love you and I’m tired of hiding that. I don’t care what we have to go through, if it means being with you.” It’s said with honesty and it makes Dean smile, a smile of happiness. He leans forward, connecting their lips in a sweet kiss, nose brushes against one another. “I love you too.” He whispers over her lips.

#dean-charles chapman imagine #dean-charles chapman #dean-charles chapman imagines #dean-charles chapman x reader #george mackay x reader #george mackay imagine #1917 imagines #1917 #fluff #dean charles chapman fluff #tom blake x reader #dean chapman imagine #dean chapman x reader #reader insert

[har-rison-s]

Knickers

Warnings: SMUT!

the baby pink of your underwear would have been enough to kill a man, but add lace to the edges and dean’s funeral is ready to plan. he melts at the sight of it, and it’s visible in his eyes and whole face. his jaw goes slack and eyelids drop to a certian level where he can still see. but his eyes are completely gone, there’s clouds of lust and desire and he’s already dreaming a thousand dreams at the moment. but why would he need that? his real, true dream is right in front of him. and she’s got pink underwear on.

had he not any self-control, he’d be drooling onto the sheets, but dean licks his lips and blinks. either to get his head straight and focus or to get himself out of dreamland, neither of you know which one. his hands slide over the equally smooth materials of the knickers and your skin in appreciation. is it silk? is it cotton? he doesn’t care. it’s heavenly. your skin is already a whole another thing, but this underwear on you is just the perfect combo.

his fingers adjust the underwear to your figure, bringing its edges down and then back up again, teasing you unknowingly - he’s so in wonder and awe he doesn’t really realise his actions’ effect on you. or does he…? he doesn’t glance your way, he’s taken by the color and fitting of your new pair of underwear. his fingers slip under the material, grazing both the garment and your skin at once. your body shivers and you sigh. dean moves his hands to your inner thighs and spreads them apart slowly, and you gasp. with lack of filter, your teeth bite your lower lip in anticipation and hope for what’s next.

dean’s thumb presses right next to the edge of your underwear, the pits of your inner thighs. it makes you moan, and he finally hears you. the moan is needy and begging, and he hears everything in that one sweet sound. don’t you worry, he wants to say, everything’s coming soon enough. he hasn’t got time to say the words because he himself is impatient, and he can’t waste a second more of not being totally engulfed in you.

his lips are the first to touch you and they’re soft and slow, but they arrived suddenly. so you gasped, but instantly moaned as you melted as well. dean kisses your underwear again and his eyes close. you’re so soft and warm against him, you are the dream he’s wished to have all his life. dean thinks how it is to kiss you, he remembers the slow, teasing kisses exchanged between you two minutes ago and he moans. it shakes you up and you inhale sharply through your mouth while feeling his kiss deeper and, seemingly, deeper into you. he seems to draw away in a few moments’ time, and you’re ready to protest, but dean groans softly, admiring you from above.

“these bloody knickers, darling.” he says and he’s right back to where he was seconds ago. his hands grip around your thighs and his mouth stretches wider around your clothed pussy. before your eyes tightly close, you catch a glimpse of him looking at you from below through his fallen hair strands and god, that view could have been enough to come on the spot.

dean’s tongue makes an entrance in the act of pleasuring you, pressing on your underwear over the spot of your entrance. your whine is so high it could as well be taken as a falsetto, so desperate and full of lust. his tongue and lips over your knickers, over you, are pleasurable enough to make you cry. as his tongue massages over you, your wetness begins to dampen your gorgeous underwear and dean can taste the hint of it on his tongue.

he doesn’t stop. he licks you and he kisses your center endlessly, even when he sees your knickers completely wet with him and yourself. his hands grip your thighs tighter and he licks as deep as he can, but at one point he’s gotten tired and he finally moves yoru underwear aside. it was great pleasure for you both the underwear being in-between, and you’d love for him to do it again and again and again, cause it makes you so sensitive and drives you almost over the edge.

what does drive you over the edge is dean, once getting your enticing knickers out of the way, licking slowly at your entrance. it’s slow, but sudden, like before, and is all that you need to come. your voice does its best at hitting high-notes (pun intended) as your body shivers and you dig your hands and feet into the bed’s matress. dean doesn’t stop, though his pace has slowed and he returns to kissing your clit.

dean licks your liquid up once it starts dripping out of you, and you taste sweet, making him feel divine and fall in love with you even more. it makes you moan again, squeezing your eyes shut and rolling your fingers into fists. you fear he’ll go again, and you fear you’re not ready for it. “dean…” you sigh in slight protest, but he withdraws. though not before collecting the rest of you on his fingers and moving up towards you.

his fingers in front of your face, you open your eyes to greet him. “open up.” he beckons, hinting at your lips with his eyes and you comply without a complaint. your angel lips part in awaitance and your mouth is filled by dean’s fingers dripping with your liquid. you close your eyes at the taste of yourself on dean and then open them only to look him straight in the eyes. dean shivers from the look you give him, once again realising he’ll come in his joggers any next second.

you wrap your fingers around his wrist and move his hand in and out of your mouth slowly, taking his fingers as deep as you can. “so good, angel.” he praises in a contented sigh, imagining all sorts of things with you as his eyes drop closed. “taking my fingers so well.” your tongue pushes itself between his two fingers and he whines, just like you did not some ten minutes ago. “fuck…” comes a strangled sigh. dean tilts his head back as you continue your sweet torture on his fingers. with his free hand, he reaches back down to your clothed center and slips a finger inside you and, GOD, the feeling is wonderful, penetrating you in two places at once.

“fuck me, you’re so perfect. so perfect for me…” he’s in total bliss. you take his index and middle finger out of your mouth and kiss along his knuckles, the top of his palm, until you reach his thumb and push that into your mouth. dean is sure he’s actually coming now. nothing can match your lips around his thumb and your warm pussy around his index finger. you moan around his finger, eyes closing at him massaging your sensitive spot softly, with slight pressure. “so warm for me, fuck, darlin’.” dean says. “i’ve gotten you so wet and warm again, haven’t i?”

you know he actually expects an answer, and, with his thumb still between your teeth and lips, you respond. “you have, dean.” it’s spoken in a sigh of pleasure. you feel your walls tightening again, pressure building in the lower part of your stomach again. he’s unbelievable, but so are you.

“could spend my whole life just there, making you come again, and again, and again,” he speaks. the image of you coming multiple times on end because of him crosses both your minds hence your next moans and shudders mix together. wouldn’t that be a dream, huh, “buried in your warmth and your love.”

“and i — yours.” you respond to him. dean angles his fingers just right and you moan, biting down on his thumb. your eyes close tightly and your body stiffens.

“aw, love, are you going to come again?” dean teases and you nod, whining, as his fingers begin to fasten their pace and with every push they reach deeper inside you, nearing your spot each time. dean’s head moves lower to you and you chase his lips, but he went for your neck instead, kissing from your ear down to your collarbones.

he’d forgot about his thumb still in your mouth until you bit down on it again and he groans. “come again, darlin, i know you can, come on,” dean urges right as you intended to tell him you were about to come. his fingers pushing deeper and deeper inside you and his thumb in your mouth and his lips on your neck are all driving you crazy after your first high and still in its daze, your head spinning—

“ugh, dean!” you can’t help but cry out, but dean immediately changes his thumb to his index and middle finger to silence you, which makes the pleasure grow. and your over-sensitivity increases the pleasure as well, feeling everything twice the normal amount and intensity.

you come on his fingers with the most enticing expression on your already beautiful features. head thrown back into the pillow, eyes shut, eyebrows arched upwards as if you’re near crying, lips parted around his fingers. “fuck, you’re gorgeous.” he can’t stop the truth from spilling out his mouth.

he takes his hand from your lips before he moves downwards your body as you’re still recovering. pushing your scandalous knickers aside, he cleans your sum with licks and kisses. they drive you insane because now you’re double sensitive and you whimper, oh, you whimper. your hands go into dean’s hair, gently entangling with the curls as quiet cries leave your lips in response to his gentle assault on your entrance all while looking at you.

once he’s seemingly done, dean pulls your knickers off of you since they’re quite ruined until they go into the washer. he then moves upwards, wraps his arms around your waist and rests his chin just underneath your clothed breasts. he’s looking at you with the most innocent and loving eyes a person could have, as if he didn’t just make you come twice and only with his mouth and fingers. he could make you cum with only a look, if he wanted to.

your fingers move the strands fallen on his forehead back behind his ear and then you caress his scalp gently, so, so, so in love with him, perhaps even more now, in your post-orgasm haze. you offer dean a gentle smile and he kisses your skin below your breasts with utter sincerity and offering. he’s truly given you his all.

#dean-charles chapman x reader #dean-charles chapman imagine #I HAVE SINNED #dean-charles chapman

[withhowsadsteps]

from the dining table - matt fic (bbtl)

I’ve been struggling with my basically chronic pains for days now because of work and standing on my feet for multiple hours but hey! Managed to write something. I’ve been wanting to write more and more but I just literally can’t produce words, or I lack the motivation to do so whenever I have some time to do so. As always, I’m sorry for any mistakes, because, you guessed it, I kind of did not proofread it.

!: So, this is basically an AU – 2020’s without the pandemic and the other shit happening rn. IDK. Also because I’ve been listening to Harry Styles and Måneskin A LOT I imagined Matt’s music being something like the music H and Måneskin put out. Also they are a bit older. Yeah also if you care, I also imagined Matt’s hairstyle to be something like the hairstyle Dean had for the DA MAN -photoshoot, ugh. Especially the first pic…

warnings: mentions of cancer (not anything too specific because I do not have the knowledge to be more specific), umm… idk if there is something else worthy of a mention. angsty.

wordcount: about 2,5k, this is a lengthy one and because of that the ending is a bit sudden, sorry!

I’m sorry, but I think it is better for you to forget me and my love for you. Forget every memory and every feeling. Chase your dreams. Maybe in another life we would’ve been perfect. Be free, go out there. Maybe one day we’ll meet again.

That is all Y/N could type on her phone, her eyes blurred by the tears streaming down her face. She barely sent the text to Matt as her heart broke into million pieces. She knew that she had to do this and as much as it was going to hurt Matt, this was the least painful way to do this. As soon as she could manage to dry her eyes, she deleted all her social media and packed the last things in her room. As shitty as Luton was, she was going to miss it.

Before she hopped in her father’s car, she received a voice message from Matt.

Y/N, baby. Don’t do this to me. Are you home? Let me see you, why are you doing this? Is it someone else? Did I do something? Please.

She could hear his quiet sobs whenever he stopped for a while. She put her phone away and tried to calm herself down. “Are you sure you don’t want to tell him, honey? I’ll drive you to his place if…” Her dad asked softly but he did not even get to finish what he was about to say. Y/N shook her head and turned to look away from her father.

5 years later

For her 24th birthday her friends had a great idea. They knew how much she loved Harry Styles and his music. And that she was from Luton. They figured that when she said “Matt’s music is overrated, and he is not even that good” she just didn’t want to admit that she used to know him and live near him. So, they got them all tickets for his sold-out London gig. None of them knew that Matt and Y/N used to be in love. And that she still was very much in love with him. Y/N was still so deeply in love that she didn’t even dare to listen to any of his songs. Had he written any songs about her? How she left him and how fucked up the way she did it was? Did he write songs about his new lover or lovers? She did not want to move to London the way she had to.

And now here she sat on her bed in her studio, with her two closest friends pacing around her small apartment getting ready. Y/N tried not to be a dick and still jokingly told her friends that this was the shittiest gift they could’ve given her. It was not a complete lie though. What if Matt saw her there? What would happen then? For 5 years she had avoided him. She knew very well that he too moved to London as soon as he got famous, but even after that she hadn’t seen him around. What if Matt asked her questions, would she lie to him? Tell him that she moved because her dad got a job in London? Even then that wouldn’t be a reason to break up, Luton wasn’t that far away. She took a deep breath and got up and changed her black outfit on. She didn’t want to be too noticeable and wanted to melt to the crowd. For obvious reasons.

-

Y/N knew that Matt didn’t make bad music. She knew that she would love anything and everything he would play and sing. His band was good, that wasn’t surprising either. She felt proud to see him up there on the stage. Matt was made for this. But she also felt bittersweet. The concert was nearing its end when Matt took a short break to drink some water and to take a better look at the crowd. Y/N didn’t notice his stare, but he noticed her. He felt like his lungs were going to give up and his breath was taken away for a minute.

“This next song… I wrote this couple of years ago. She was the love of my life. It is her birthday today… I wish her well and I hope that she has a very happy birthday, wherever she is.”

Now it was Y/N’s turn to feel a kind of panic building inside her.

“Y/N/N, do you know who he is talking about?! Girl, how did you not tell us that you share the same birthday with his ex”, her friends laughed and gently pushed her. The song started and Matt’s voice and his words filled her ears, making her burst into tears. That is when something clicked inside her friend’s minds. The rest of the gig went in a blur, rest of the songs going in and out of your ears.

Without her friends, Y/N wouldn’t have been able to navigate her way home. She felt lost. She felt extremely bad. Guilty. Heartbroken, in love. Mad at herself. She had to explain herself to her best friends. Why she didn’t tell them that she loved Matt.

-

Usually Y/N didn’t drink too much alcohol. She didn’t like being drunk and she hated the hangovers she got. But this weekend, she used her birthday as her excuse for drinking until she passed out in her bed. Sunday evening came and she had to stop being reckless and get ready for a day full of classes at her UNI and a shift at a nearby café. She couldn’t help herself. She tried to avoid her phone but now, laying under her sheets, she took her phone in her hands and searched for Matt’s last message for her. The voice message.

Y/N, baby. Don’t do this to me. Are you home? Let me see you, why are you doing this? Is it someone else? Did I do something? Please.

She repeated the message countless times over and over again. Would it be a mistake to send Matt a message? Would that be so horrible?

Matt? I wonder if this is still your number… I’m so sorry. For everything. I know I promised you that I’d be yours forever. I still am, in a way. I still love you. I have not wanted anyone else’s love. But it was the right thing to do. You probably don’t believe me, but M, look what you’ve achieved. With me, I don’t know if you would’ve been able to achieve all this. The song… it broke my heart. I’m so sorry for all the pain I’ve caused you. I’m deeply remorseful. I came there because none of my friends knew about us until that night. I… I don’t know why I’m even typing this. You probably don’t want anything to do with me. But I’m so proud of you. I’m so fucking proud of you, M. You’re doing so well. God. I always knew you’d blow people’s mind off if you ever got the chance to do so. I was right, wasn’t I? I think I’m still somewhat drunk, fuck. I guess I just needed to tell you that I know what I did was awful. I promise I just wanted to save you from more tears. I was pretty sure I would not… You know, I won’t bother you with it. I couldn’t even meet you face to face to say my farewells, because I was too weak. I’ll never stop loving you. I hope your proud of yourself, Matty. I hope you’ve found someone worthy of your love. I wish you all the best, Y/N.

The rest of her day went, again, in a blur. She slept only a couple of hours during the night and woke up early in the morning. Even though she knew this day would exhaust her, she was happy that she had so much to do. No time to think about Matt or the past.

-

Y/N closed the door behind her and turned to lock it. The last hour at the café had been quiet and easy, but nevertheless she couldn’t wait to go home. She wanted to drown her sorrows in the warm water of her bath and then swaddle herself in her blankets.

“Everyone used to ask me why I broke your heart as if I was the one who ended things.”

It took her a few seconds to process the words a familiar voice spat out behind her. She turned around. She looked exhausted; Matt could see that in her face. Y/N couldn’t help herself and think how good he looked in his black leather jacket, his hair a little messy.

“And then after five years, I see you there, looking even more beautiful than before. I couldn’t help but think that you came there just to say fuck you Matt, I’ve found someone much better than you. I did not know that you’d go home and get drunk and then text me, as if you broke up with me a week ago.”

Matt’s words were filled with anger. Y/N didn’t know what to say. She felt small before him, her knees felt weak.

“Well, are you going to explain yourself or did you message me just to remind me again that you left me weeping, huh? Say something!”

Y/N manage to mutter some words out softly and quietly:

“I live nearby… I don’t want to talk about it here”

-

Arriving at her studio, she let Matt in first. He sat down at her small dining table, waiting for her to join him. Y/N slowly let down her backpack and got out a box filled to the brim out of her closet. She sat down before him and with shaky hands opened up the box and went through the papers until she found the few of them she was looking for. She put them down before Matt and took a deep breath. Her hands were still shaking, her breaths becoming a little bit too quick. Matt took the first paper in his hands and started reading him. The color drained from his face. Cancer. “Y/N”

“I’m so sorry Matt, I thought I was dying. I was sure I would not survive, M. I’m surprised I made it this far. We moved to London to be closer to the best hospitals. I wanted to save you from my death, that is why I did what I did, Matty, I’m so sorry.”

She started hysterically sobbing after that. All the guilt she had carried with her until this point just culminated and erupted fully at last. She was so exhausted from her treatments, from the heartbreak and now from school and work.

“I distanced myself from everyone I loved, except from my parents and siblings. I did not want to see others hurt like my family was hurting. I even prepared my own funeral, Matt. It was bad.”

Matt took her hands in his own, trying to calm her nerves. He let her cry until she had no tears left to cry.

“You could’ve told me. I would’ve been there with you, through everything. I can’t believe I wasn’t there to hold your hand when you needed me the most.”

Matt’s voice was so quiet Y/N could barely hear his words.

-

Their relationship wasn’t fixed right away. Y/N still felt way too guilty about her actions. Matt had to process all the information. He had to tour around the UK for a couple of months before they could see each other again. By then, Y/N was able to speak more about the five years they had been apart. It was easier to speak about the illness and the guilt she felt now that they had met once before. Matt felt guilty, too. And more than that he felt deeply sad. But slowly he warmed up again and trusted Y/N with his heart again.

Matt did not need to ask her to be her girlfriend again. One night he took her out to watch the stars and wrapped his arms around her, keeping her close. It led to a lengthy, melancholy, and love-filled kiss and ever since then, he was with her every chance he had to do so.

Y/N felt less stressed about work and her studies when he was with her, keeping an eye on her. Making sure that she was staying healthy, watching her chase her dreams as he had already achieved almost all his. His last dream was to marry the love of his life, but that remained a goal for some time later. But he knew who the love of his life was. He always knew. And so did she.

#matt blinded by the light #matt x reader #matt bbtl #dean charles chapman x reader #dean charles chapman #dean-charles chapman

[ditch-witches]

do you think you could write a smut where dean is stressed out so the reader gives him a blowjob to help him out?

pairing: Dean Charles Chapman x reader

warnings: nsfw (18+ but i'm not your mom [unless like,,, you ask nicely]), oral (m. receiving), suggestive language, there’s only so many words for dick im SoRRY, also i'm writing this at 4 in the morning so who knows what else. 

Dean ran his fingers through his hair, pulling the cap off a highlighter with his teeth as he broke down another scene from the script he recently received. For no reason in particular, this character was getting on his nerves and testing his weaknesses as an actor. You wrung your hands as you silently paced in front of his office door, debating whether or not to intrude on him while he was so obviously frustrated. You listened as he shifted in his chair, the plastic creaking as he leaned back and rubbed his eyes. You took a deep breath before rapping your knuckles against the wood of the door frame, pulling his attention towards you as his eyes softened at the sight of you. 

You noticed how his hair was getting almost too long as it curled around his ears and framed his face, dark circles around his light eyes making him look a few years older than he actually was. "How's it going?" You asked, stepping into the room as his eyes followed you to turn on another lamp. 

He sighed tiredly, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the desktop. "Well," he paused, a small grin tugging at his lips before continuing, "it's going." You moved across the floor to stand behind him. Your hands settled against his shoulders, letting your fingers dig into his skin softly to soothe the knot forming between his shoulder blades. He groaned at the feeling, reclining back into your touch happily. 

"Anything I can do to help?" You inquired softly, stooping down to smooth a kiss to his cheek. He hummed in response, his eyes shutting momentarily as he relaxed as your hands kneaded against his arms. You combed your brain for how to ease his mind as he exhaled. 

And then it hit you. ���Fancy a break?” You asked, your hands continuing their motions and he muttered an agreement before swinging out his chair to stand. You stepped in front of him, pushing his chest so he plopped back down. Dean’s eyes flashed up to you with a raised eyebrow and a small grin on his face. He studied your every move as you blatantly pushed your hair out of your face and tied it back into a ponytail as you bent down between his legs. 

His lips parted into an almost shocked expression as if he was waiting for you to back out and tell him it was some kind of a prank. You dragged your nails alongside his thigh as he leaned forward slightly. He smirked at you, settling one of his hands into your hair. You turned your head to press a kiss to his palm and bat your eyes at him suggestively. “You’re doing such a good job. Don’t tire yourself out,” you cooed, coyly. Dean nearly rolled his eyes, knowing what you were up to. 

You sat up on your knees to capture his lips against yours, eliciting a small moan to echo from his throat at the taste of you. Your hand traveled up his thigh and towards his zipper, his other hand moving to assist you as he grabbed your wrist. You allowed his tongue to slip into your mouth as he pulled you into a deeper kiss. Your fingers icked to please him as you began to palm him through his jeans, his body responding quickly to your advances like it was the first time you’d ever touched him. 

As he began to harden beneath your gesture, your lips found their way to his jaw, your teeth skimming across his skin to tease a blush to his cheeks. You coaxed his erection further before you began to unclasp his pants. “Relax, baby,” you murmured against his skin. He moaned softly as your lips traced the divots of his collar bones, your tongue swirling as if to hint at what was in store. You sank back on the balls of your feet, your hand reaching up to push him flat against the chair back. He bit his lip to fight the smile threatening to break across his features as your fingers curled around the base of his cock. He tensed under your grip as you began to pump your hand, drawing out another hushed moan from the man above you. “Does that feel good?” You taunted, looking up at him through your eyelashes. 

He exhaled heavily in response, one of his hands moving to rest on your forearm for some kind of support as you encouraged his further arousal. You let your tongue dart out across your lips before pressing them to the sensitive skin of his tip. You focused on how each of your actions caused his body to relax, a small sense of pride swelling deep inside of you at the fact that it was so easy for you to pleasure him. You eased your mouth around his erection, your tongue swirling around his shaft. As your head began to move in tandem with your hand, you basked in the growing vulgarity of his words. 

You pulled your mouth off of him, continuing to speed your hand motions gradually as your teeth etched into his thigh. You could watch him unravel for you for the rest of your life; his gaze hazy as he avoided your sultry eye contact, his lips red and aggravated from harsh attempts at keeping himself quiet. Some of his curls were tugged back from being pulled at, his blissed-out expression creating a more prominent redness to his cheeks. Your lips slowly traveled back to his cock, an almost pleading look settling into his bright irises as your intentions were now directed on taking him deeper. 

His grip on your arm tightened as you pushed his tip past your lips once again, a strangled groan of pure pleasure hissing through his teeth. As he reached the back of your throat, tears began to brim in the corners of your eyes and his arousal twitched in your mouth. You began to bob your head once again, edging him on further with each of his moans of your name which you knew was a warning that he was close. You alternated the movements of your mouth and hand, making him fight against bucking his hips towards you. His cock tensed and in an instant, hot sticky strands of pleasure were filling your mouth. 

You brushed a hand across your chin and Dean leaned forward, digging his fingers into your hair to capture your lips in a worshiping kiss. He moaned against your mouth, sending a vibration straight to your core. You severed the action and stood, leaving him nearly breathless. “Don’t overwork yourself,” you taunted with a small wink, making him look up at you with an almost submissive undertone as he nodded. 

#dean charles chapman #deancharleschapman #dean-charles chapman #dean charles chapman imagine #dean charles chapman smut #dean charles chapman fluff #dean charles chapman x reader #dean charles chapman x you #dean charles chapman x y/n #1917 imagine #1917 smut

[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

[propertyofwicked]

Your a-z s are so good!! Omg you’re so talented☺️ could you possibly do one for George? We would all love that💕

thank you anons for these requests. im quite busy atm so im sorry if other requests take a while and thank you for being patient with me.

a-z of dating george mackay

a - argue

neither you or george are shouters, instead you go very quiet when something goes wrong or upsets either one of you. george would huff and mumble, until one of you grew the balls to talk through the issue. you’d be sat on the sofa and he’d just come and sit facing you, taking your hands in his and press his lips to them softly. this was his way of saying he was ready to talk.

b - body (his favourite body part of yours)

george loves your lips and your cheeks. he loves watching you talk, how your mouth moves and he loves how effortlessly your voice tumbles out. he loves how your smile grows when you laugh, small dimples forming in your cheeks - it was enough to make him smile with you. he loves to kiss your lips and your cheeks. whether it was a quick peck here and there or when he’d push you up against a wall and kiss you till you couldn’t breathe. he loved to kiss your lips till they went redder and more plump. 

c - care (caring for each other when you’re sick)

when george is ill, he pulls you back into bed anytime you get up, claiming he’s cold and needs your body warmth. whilst you’d comply, you also had stuff you needed to get on with. so you’d sit next to his sleeping figure, trying to quietly type on your laptop or write into your notebook. when you’re ill, george waits on you all day. he’d constantly ask if you needed a drink or food and if you’re being sick, he’ll follow you to the bathroom and hold your hair back. he’d gently rub small circles into your back and carry you back to your bed, when you were too weak to walk alone.

d - dates (what do you guys do?)

being an actor, george loves to take you to the cinema to watch new films that he’d seen about, or heard about at awards nights. sometimes, you’d go and see films that his friends or previous co-workers were in. you’d share popcorn and he’d let you rest your head on his shoulder whilst his arm was wrapped around your shoulders. afterwards, you’d maybe go out for dinner or to a coffee shop, and he’d love to have a discussion with you about the film, what you liked and didn’t, the directing, filming, acting. by the end of the evening, the entire film would’ve been deeply analysed by the two of you and you’d have it no other way.

e - engagements (how he proposed) 

he’d take you out to dinner, to celebrate your birthday or anniversary, and after the meal, you’d take a walk back to your flat or the car. but, then he’d take a diversion and say he just wanted to show you something. next thing you know, you’re standing on the rooftop of the cafe you met, staring up at the stars. whilst you were looking away, he’d get down on his knee and then cough slightly to gain your attention. he had planned a small little speech, which went the window the moment you turned around. he tells you how much he loves you, what he loves about you, what he sees in the future for you two, and you can’t help but say yes. 

f - friends and family (do they like you/him?)

george’s family were initially weary of your relationship. not because they didn’t like you, but because of how long george spent away from home working. they feared you would both end up ending it soon because you couldn’t cope. as soon as they met you, however, they saw how relaxed george was - different to his typically stressed exterior. when he was away, his mum invited you round for dinner, and his sister was similar in age, so you had a lot in common.

your family feared he would be a distraction from your studies, but once they saw your relationship thriving, they had no fears. your dad liked that he was politically aware and into football, whilst your mum liked the fact he was active in feminism (#pussypower)

g - gifts

when george went away for filming, he’d bring you home stuff. they could be really simple, such as local delicacies or fridge magnets. something simple, that was a small reminder of him every time you opened the fridge. 

h - how you met

you met in a cafe. you were sat in the corner, typing away at a script you were working on, nothing official just something that kept you occupied. he happened to take the table next to you and notice you furiously typing away your ideas, jotting down notes in the book next to you. he stood up and walked over to you. 

“um, hi. i’m george.”

“hi?”

he told you about him being an actor, asked what you were working on and then asked to read. he complimented your work, and you gave him your number to “keep him updated and ask for advice”. he made a habit of going back to the cafe every day that he could, just to see you. he’d take a seat opposite you and didn’t mind when the two of you sat in silence. 

i - intimacy (how often are yall getting down)

oh that man may seem innocent, but he will take you any time, any where. when he came home, the first thing he’d do is take you to your bedroom. he’d go slow savouring the moment - similar to how he would be the night before he had to leave. and the morning. and maybe before he got in the taxi. and then maybe he’d send you some suggestive texts. he lead you to toilets at awards shows for a quickie, or just lay you down on the sofa and go to town. 

j - jealousy

when you come to set, some of his male co workers got a little bit close. when you were gone, they’d make jokes to george - he laugh outwardly but inside he was seething. it was easy to feel jealous of people you interacted with when he was away, much as it was for you to be of him working with loads of people, that his character was physically intimate with. however, it didn’t take much for either of you to remind the other of your love ;)

k - kinks

idk if this is a kink but hickies. george loves to litter your neck, chest, stomach and inner thighs with small bruises. he loves seeing a quick flash of the marks whenever your shirt rides up, or your towel exposes a few. he very much loves to mark his territory, as much as likes to see marks you’ve left on him. 

l - long distance

a lot of your relationship had been spent long distance, with him working away for 1917 and then the history of the ned kelly gang. every night, you facetimed, till one of you fell asleep, but you’d mostly just do your usual evening routine, just hundreds of miles apart. you’d cook your dinner at the same time, shower, and then sleep. it felt as if you were together, just through a screen. you were obviously limited to what you could do but there was many things you could do to replace what was physically missing. it didn’t take a massive toll on your relationship, but george found it really hard to see you struggling and knowing he couldn’t be there to help - and vice versa. 

m - moving in

george asked you to move in, over facetime, whilst he was away filming 1917. he said he wanted to come home to your face every evening, and his flat wouldn’t feel like home without you there. his flat was closer to your uni/work place as it was, so even though you were quite early on into your relationship, it was ideal. whilst he was away, you kept the flat in order every time george came home, he damn near welled up at the thought of you being there waiting for him, in difference to the usual cold, empty flat. 

n - nights out 

being a student, you went out a lot with your friends. often when george was away, so he’d be delighted to wake up to barely legible texts from you. when he was home, however, the two of you found yourself going to a local pub with dean and some of your other friends and taking part in the pub quiz or darts. sometimes you’d just watch the game that was on.

o - open with each other

initially, you both found it hard to talk to each other, but as all good people do, he had a catharsis. he broke down, relaying all his stresses onto you, to which you comforted him and talked him through it. he can sense when your bottling it up, and even though you’re not massively open with him naturally, he knows when to ask you to talk, and you do, knowing he will be there to support you.

p - pda

george isn’t a massive fan of pda, but he would hold your hand when you walk through town, and when you accompanied him to award shows, his hand would be firmly stationed on your lower back, his fingers rubbing small circles. he’d press soft, small pecks onto your cheek, or your forehead or sometimes, just the simplest act of raising your hand and kissing your knuckles softly would be enough to comfort you. 

q - questions (what you talk about late at night?)

you talk about your day usually. it’ll start of as being, “i cant sleep” which will then turn into either one of you starting to talk about something funny that happened or just an overview of how your day went. this would go on until you managed to fall asleep, you soft breathing lulling george into his own sleep.

r - reproduction (do you want kids?)

george wants kids, in fact he definitely has notes on his phone of baby names that he wants to bring up with you. however, he respects your decisions and only wants what you want. he lives by “her body, her decision” but it is something he will ask you one night, casually. to which you respond however you feel.

s - surprising (what surprised you about him)

he loves to dance. if a song is playing in the background or on the radio, he’ll stand up and dance. in the kitchen, he’ll take a wooden spoon and sing into it. then take your hand and twirl you around. he loves to slow dance with you under the stars and he loves to rock out with you, with air guitars and all.

t - together (what you do together)

as said before, you watch a lot of films and programmes together. you also write a lot together, carpooling ideas into scripts or stories. his imagination is phenomenal. sometimes, you’d go on road trips, and he’d have control of the aux. he’d play songs to you, to see if you knew them, and he’d serenade you with ABBA non stop. anything you did was made 10x better when you did it together.

u - under the influence (drunk vibes)

drunk george is the softest man alive. he just wants to cuddle and tell you how madly in love he is with you. he’d press kisses all over your face and then pull you in close, to squeeze you tightly. when you’re drunk he loves to watch you get up to your antics, only intervening when it got dangerous or illegal. drunk together was a whole other force to be reckoned with. you’d both be doing stupid stuff until someone else had to step in. drunk you and sober you were both madly in love with george, just sober you was more willing to show absolutely everyone.

v - vacations

george definitely takes you to an island somewhere, like malta. or maybe he’d take you to a greek island. you’d spend the entire time exploring the city or the local markets, soaking up the local atmosphere and the sun. he’d defo get all artsy, taking photos of you from behind as you walked, the sun shining down on you angelically. 

w - wedding

the cutest wedding ever. no cap. outside, in summer. you’d chosen a outside area, like a greenhouse kinda room, surrounded by the most beautiful flowers. the reception was afternoon tea in a little marquee. the next day, you had a family meal, where your two families came together to celebrate the two of you.

x - xray (when he’s hurt)

let’s say he injured himself on the set of 1917. a piece of rubble in the bunker scene fell and trapped on his arm, cutting it wide open. whilst it didn’t put him completely out of working, it did require him to go to hospital for stitches. it happened that you were on set on these days so accompanied the whole way. you held his hand as the nurse gave him stitches, and though he didn’t look scared of the needle, you could tell he was slightly panicking at the size. you walked with him back to the trailer where dean sat waiting, laughing slightly has a pale george sauntered up to him, you pulled into his side.

y - you (a random headcanon) 

imagine that you both innocently take a shower together. “saving water” or something like that. george would spend his time massaging shampoo in your scalp and then brushing his fingers through it as the water washed it out. he’d turn around and you lather him in soap, your hands rubbing his shoulders, tense from a week of working. it wasn’t much but it was the little things that allowed the two of you to wind down at the end of a busy week.

z - zzzzzzzzzzzz’s (sleeping routine)

whilst you wouldn’t admit to being tired, george would watch you as you sat next to him, your eyelids falling heavy and your blinks getting longer and longer. he’d stand up himself, then hold out his hand for you to take. you’d follow him up the stairs and whilst he was brushing his teeth, you’d change into your pyjamas and then you’d swap. as you wander back into the room, george would hold out his arms for you to climb into, your head burying into the crook of his neck. nights like this, it was easier to fall asleep quickly.

#1917 #george mackay #george mackay imagine #george mackay x reader #will schofield #will schofield x reader #will schofield imagine #dean charles chapman #dean charles chapman smut #dean charles chapman imagine #dean charles chapman x reader #tom blake #tom blake x reader #tom blake imagine #Sam Mendes #the history of the ned kelly gang

[mydemimonde]

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

✎ = still writing

⚘ BEN HARDY

▪ Ben dating a latina (headcanon)

▪ Making out with Ben (headcanon)

▪ ‘Early Christmas Gift’ (one shot)

▪ ‘Marathon’ (one shot) (+18)

▪ ‘Challenge accepted’ (one shot) (+18)

▪ ‘Happy New Year’ (one shot) (+18)

▪ ‘Make love to me’ (one shot) (+18)

⚘ DEAN-CHARLES CHAPMAN

▪ ‘Muse’ ─ Matt (Blinded by the Light) x OC (✎)

⇢ Chapter 1

⇢ Chapter 2

⇢ Chapter 3

⇢ Chapter 4

⇢ Chapter 5

⇢ Chapter 6

⇢ Chapter 7

⇢ Chapter 8

#dean charles chapman #ben hardy #dean charles chapman imagine #dean charles chapman smut #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy smut #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy headcanon #1917 #matt blinded by the light #dean charles chapman blinded by the light

[goeatsomelife]

Jealousy

Warnings: angst, swearing, alcohol 

Pairings: George Mackay x Reader

Summary: At the premiere of 1917, that you attended with your friends and costars, a painful argument finally makes things clear.

Author’s Note: Yesterday I watched the premiere of 1917! This is a pure diamond in cinematography. Besides beautiful screenplay, camerawork and director's work,i found a new actor crash - George Mackay! I couldn’t resist writing this peace! Lots of love to everyone! I hope you will like it! 

Another warning: it’s my first full work, more than 1000 words. English is not my mother language, but i tried to correct all of the mistakes. I really appreciate your feedback! Let me know if you like it or hate it. 

I made this gif. Full video

You had a weak feeling in your knees. You probably shaking while your friend was holding you by the waist. You were posing for paparazzi on the red carpet of 1917 movie premiere. You knew that 6 months of preparations and rehearsing than dizzying 65 days of shooting will be rewarded, but you were aware of fame, that going to take over you and your colleagues!

You were overwhelmed with how much carrying and defensive George were at the premiere. You were colleagues, even friends, still, but every time he touches you by your waist or shoulders you felt a beautiful and painful sensation in your stomach. Heat fast rushed through your body. He knew that kind of attention was new for you, so he tried to make it as easy and comfortable for you as it can be!

After the presentation and all of the business stuff started afterparty.

«Hey! Everything is alright?» George got you a glass of champagne.

«Yeah…I just want to get drunk already and have fun!» 

He gave you his beautiful smile. «I will go and talk to some friends. Don’t stay alone. Dean is over there». He pointed at the dance floor. «He will gladly keep you company. Okay?”

And he left you. Sensation in your stomach appeared again, more painful than before. You drank as much as you can to get rid of that feeling, but nothing helped. It’s not the first time. You felt this before, but feeling appeared stronger than before. You liked George, but was scared to admit it and confess. You were scared, that your confession will ruin your friendship.

After three more glasses, you felt dizzy but happy. George was not around, so you forget about him and that feeling finally disappeared. You found Dean and started to dance with him, jumping in the rhythm. After a while music changed on slow jazz. Dancefloor appeared less crowded and calmer.

«We will still hang out together after promotion, right?» Dean asked, taking your hands in a slow dance.

«Of coourse, Dean! We still have our group chat. Maybe we will participate in the project together!”

«Actually, I was thinking that we could hang out together, only two of us». Dean asked with a worried smile on his face. You felt confident because of the amount of alcohol, that you didn’t notice the warm hand of your coworker on your waist. Giving light pressure on your body, he got you slightly closer to him. You felt the warmth of his breath and alcohol scent.

«I think…we can. Of course». You shrugged, getting comfortable in his embrace.

«So.. I can count on a date?» You continued to slowly sway your bodies in dance, getting even closer and intimate. His hand slowly started to go down, getting closer to your butt. You felt dizzy, not realizing what you are doing. In an instant, you even felt a sexual desire towards a beautiful boy, but it was wrong. Before you can answer on Dean’s question, you felt a tight grip on your hand. Someone harshly turned you around.

There was George. His face was red because of alcohol. Eyes slightly red. He was without a jacket, some top buttons of his shirt were undone, slightly showing his bare toned chest. Blood quickly rushed to your face by the view that you witnessed, making you dizzier than before. Again, that weak feeling in your legs.

«Sam is looking for you. He wanted to say something about promotion interviews». George harshly glanced at Dean, releasing your hand and getting his in the pockets of trousers. «But…I see you’re not interested in talking with other people right now». You felt horrible, glancing between two actors. There was an uncomfortable silence for a while. You felt like your head will blow, butterflies making backflips in your stomach.

«What’s wrong with you, mate?» Dean asked, getting in front of you.

«What? What’s wrong with me? Let me properly explain it…» George darted in Dean’s direction, but you get between them. You calmly laid your hands on George’s chest.

«Whou, stop it! It’s a party! Nothing is wrong!» You tried to calm them down, but as a result, George walked away in exit direction and Dean rushed in the crowd, starting a conversation with the crew. Yeah, awesome, you’re alone! What even happened? Feeling like you will scream in a panic attack, you decided to wash it away with some alcohol. After a few shots crowded hall started to feel suffocating, so you rushed outside.

You lost count in time. The street was slightly lighted with a streetlight, cigarette smoke clouded your view. When wind slightly blew away smoke, George appeared in front of you. He was beautiful, leaning against the handrail of the stairs, with a shirt slightly showing his chest. He was holding a cigarette, a thoughtful look on his face. He got a cigarette to his plump lips, taking a slow drug, making formed smoke to escape his mouth. The view was beautiful. You didn’t realized that you were standing in front of the entrance, staring at him.

You get beside him, taking a deep breath of fresh air.

«Hey». He said in a raspy and tired voice, still not looking at you.

«Dean ran away from you?”

«What’s wrong with you?» You felt anger, blood polluted with alcohol rushing through your body. Heart beating like crazy.

«Why are you acting like that? You left me at the start of the party. You said so yourself «Dean will keep you company». So what’s wrong?» You said in high tone, filled with anger. Now you can’t control yourself! You don’t understand, why he does all of that, trying to pick a fight with you and Dean! You are his friends.

«Everything is alright. I just….»

«Look at me». You interrupted him in anger tone. His eyes landed on yours.

«You want a fight? Do you want a f****ing drama? You get the right time». You felt like all of the worries and stress getting all over you. Spiced with a lot of alcohol you were ready to punch him and faint.

«So now you don’t answer? Nice move! I thought we are friends!»

«We’re not friends, Y/N! We’re not f***ing friends».

You were in shock. Hands slightly trembling. He said it. How you did even think that it was friendship? He was so sweet on the red carpet. For a moment, you even thought that it was more than friendship. You stood still, mouth agape, holding tears. Lips started to quiver. You tried to see his face, but blurriness ruined the view. George slightly gets closer. You were ready to run away, but your legs paralyzed by the shock of his sudden outburst.

«Y/N…we can’t be friends. I can’t stand things like that. You and Dean, is there something between you? Tell me». He said carefully. Hands shaking.

«What? No! Why it even matters to you?» You said, trying to contain your tears.

Features of his face started to relax. He exhaled. You tried to get away, but he took your hand, turned you and get his lips on yours. It started slowly, carefully, but in no time, you deepened the kiss. It felt like a huge relief. You exhaled, trying to get some air again, but George’s lips never leaving yours. You laid your cold hands on his warm cheeks, forcing a hiss from his lips. He got you closer, caressing your waist and back. It felt like forever. You thought, if you will interrupt this kiss, everything would disappear. You wanted it for so long, afraid of what feelings he had for you. You get apart, lips are swollen.

«We’re not f**king friends, I tried to tell you this so many times! Please, don’t make me jealous again. Be mine».

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #george mackay imagine #1917 #1917 imagine #dean-charles chapman #dean-charles chapman imagine #dean-charles chapman x reader #Pride #True History of the Kelly Gang #Ophelia #how i live now

[blueeyedheizer]

A Little Light - Blake & Schofield x reader

WARNINGS: x

A/N: just so you know, this is NOT a romantic imagine. I purposely chose not to include any kind of romance cause that's exactly what made the original scene so beautiful & real :) <3

---

"Il n'y a rien ici. Nous n'avons rien pour vous. S'il vous plaît." (There is nothing here. We have nothing for you. Please.) Your voice was quiet but shaking, fear quickly taking over you as you revealed yourself, slightly stepping out of the dark corner you were hiding in. The knot in your throat tightened as you noticed the rifle the two soldiers were holding and you stepped back a little when their eyes met yours.

"Anglais...not German." One of them said as they both set their rifle down, holding their hands up. "Friends...we are friends."

"I'm Blake. And this is Schofield." The younger one continued, gesturing to himself and his friend. Feeling relieved as you understood they weren't a threat, you nodded your head and slowly walked out of your hiding place, hugging your arms close to yourself.

"You are hurt...." you whispered softly as you noticed blood on the back of Schofield's head. Taking a step towards him, you pointed at a chair near the fire. "Asseyez-vous." (sit down)

"Asseyez-vous, monsieur." (sit down, sir) you insisted as he suddenly began to sway, feeling nauseous.

"C'mon Scho, sit down." you heard the younger soldier say as he placed a hand over his friend's shoulder. The man swayed slightly before dropping into the chair. Slowly, you moved over to him and placed your hand on his, making him jump as tenderness was still foreign to him. You carefully parted his damp hair and accidentally let your finger brush over the wound, making him flinch. You apologized silently before reaching down and taking out a handkerchief, holding it against the wound to stop the bleeding.

"Il me reste un petit peu de désinfectant. Je peux vous le donner." (I have a little bit of disinfectant left. I can give it to you.)

"No..." the man answered before turning slowly to face you, your gaze locking momentarily. "Save it for yourself, in case you need it." he continued, his voice weak from pain and tiredness. After a moment, you nodded.

Then, a soft sound suddenly came from behind you, and both men's eyes shot open. Getting up carefully, you moved to the corner of the room and lifted up a baby from an old drawer that had been lined with cloth. The boys quickly followed after you, their eyes never leaving the baby.

"Bonjour ma puce..." (hello, sweetie...) you whispered, taking a sit on the dusty mattress that laid on the floor. You stroked the little girl's cheeks as she began crying, kissing her forehead and mumbling soothing words as Blake and Schofield kneeled in front of you.

"Shhh, je suis là. Je suis là. (Shh. I'm here. I'm right here.) Regarde. On n'est pas toutes seules. Tu dis bonjour?" (Look. We're not alone. You wanna say hi?) The little girl's cries subsisted as she laid her eyes on the soldiers, intrigued by them.

The two boys stared at the baby with a soft smile as she squirmed around and whimpered into your arms for a moment. Looking up, you could see the excitement glowing in the younger boy's eyes.

"Est-ce que— est-ce que tu veux la porter?...hold her?" you asked. You could tell he was unsure of what to do or say, not knowing if this was a good idea. Blake turned to Schofield who nodded at him after a few seconds. With a smile, you moved closer and carefully handed the baby over to Blake, not letting go until you were certain he had the hang of her.

"Make sure to support her head." Schofield spoke softly and Blake nodded as he started cradling her gently. The baby settled in his arms almost immediately, making him smile. Her big brown eyes were staring up at him and she reached up, trying to touch his face.

"She's beautiful..." Blake murmured as she grabbed his finger with her tiny palm and gurgled happily. Blake looked up at you with a bright smile before turning his attention back to the baby, softly stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. You and Schofield shared a soft look, appreciating this small heartwarming moment.

"She likes you." you whispered, smiling fondly at the scene in front of you, temporarily forgetting about the harsh reality of the outside world.

"What is her name?" Blake continued.

"Je ne sais pas. Elle n'est pas à moi..." (I don't know. She's not mine...)

Suddenly, the little girl's eyes filled with tears and a small cry left her throat. Blake tensed, his face falling with worry.

"She's hungry." You spoke as you reached out to stroke her tiny head. With a heavy heart, Blake handed her back to you, letting you cradle her. Placing your hand behind her tiny head, you carefully lifted her up to your shoulder, rubbing her back softly and whispering soothing words into her ear.

"Here. I have milk." Schofield announced as he pried the canteen from his belt, handing it over to you. You looked up at him, wearing a look of pure amazement and gratitude.

"Take these as well." Blake continued, before opening his pack and emptying his rations on the mattress. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out of it. "Take them all, for you and her."

"Je ne peux pas—" you finally managed to blurt out. "Vous en avez besoin...gardez-les." (I can't— you need that food...keep it.)

Before any of them could answer, the distant sound of the church bell startled them, and with one last glance towards the baby, they stood up. You watched them confused, holding the child closer to you as you followed them.

"Qu'est-ce que vous faites? Attendez, s'il vous plaît. Il va bientôt faire jour. Les soldats, ils vont vous voir." (What are you doing? Wait, please. It will be light soon. The soldiers, they'll see you.)

"We're sorry." Schofield answered as he grabbed his rifle and walked to the doorway, Blake following closely.

"Attendez, je vous en prie. Restez." (Wait, please. Stay.) you reached for Blake's arm, and his expression dropped even more when he saw your frightened state.

"I'm really sorry, but we have to go now." he eventually tried to reason with you. "My brother, along with hundred of men are in danger." Blake answered. You hadn't noticed the single tear that rolled down to your cheek until you felt its salty taste on your lips. After a few seconds, you let go of his arm and nodded slowly, taking a step back. You wrapped your arm around the baby protectively but also for comfort as you watched them walk over to the doorway with their rifles clutched in their hands.

And before you knew it, with one last apology, you were left alone again surrounded by darkness and fear.

#tom blake x reader #1917 x reader #tom blake #thomas blake x reader #will schofield x reader #schofield x reader #blake x reader #william schofield x reader #dean charles chapman x reader #george mackay x reader #dean charles chapman imagine #george mackay imagine #blueeyeddean

[strangethings-everywhere]

George Mackay idea where reader is also an actor? Maybe they’re doing a promo tour together, or both at an awards show. Just ideas. I love what you’ve written already!

Here you go anon! I hope you like it!

It’s Golden Globes time and your movie is up for best film (drama) alongside 1917. Because of this, your table is next to the 1917 table and you’ve had to stare at George Mackay for the entire evening. Little did you know, he had also been mesmerized by you.

The entire promo season for your film had involved you and your castmates being asked questions about your ‘rival’ film 1917. Now that it was finally time for the Golden Globes and you weren’t prepared in any way to actually meet the film’s stars. 

You definitely weren’t prepared to see them in suits.

You had been chatting with Florence Pugh, who you had starred alongside in Midsommar when George Mackay entered your line of sight with Dean-Charles Chapman in tow. You slowly began to drift out of the conversation, watching the two boys as they walked to the table right next to yours.

“Y/N? Are you alright?” Florence waved her hand in front of your face. “What are you…” She turned and followed your eyeline, smirking wickedly. “Oh. It’s George.”

“Florence!” You hissed. “Shut up!”

She let out a cackle. “Oh come on! You’ve had a crush on him since forever! Now’s your moment!” 

“Yes, he’s absolutely going to want to talk to me after I stare at him for three hours. Great job, Florence.” You rolled your eyes.

“No, go talk to him!” Florence took your drink and shoved you towards where he was sitting, chatting with Dean and his director Sam Mendes. 

Instead of listening to Florence, you quickly took your seat and struck up a conversation with one of your castmates. Out of the corner of your eye, you continued to watch George. 

You had been following his promo tour, which had been happening at the same time as yours, but you couldn’t tear yourself away from the idea of him. Your twitter feed had been full of updates and photos about him and Dean and your tumblr (that no one knew about) was all about George and 1917. You found him captivating. It was as if he was a drug you just couldn’t seem to give up. 

He was definitely handsome, a fact you couldn’t deny. He stood tall next to Dean, running a hand through his blond curls. You wished so desperately that just for a second his blue eyes would land on you, that he would smile because of something you had said.

Fear, however, made sure you stayed rooted to your seat with the people you felt comfortable with.

Florence kept texting you throughout the show, egging you on to talk to George or even Dean during the commercial breaks. You ignored her, rather focusing on either your food or your castmates. 

“Excuse me? You’re Y/N Y/L/N right?”

You slowly looked up. Dean-Charles Chapman was standing in front of you, a mischevious look in his eye. “Yes… why?”

“Well, my friend George over there is a fan of yours and I was hoping, if it weren’t too much trouble, if we could take a picture with you?” 

You furrowed your eyebrows at him. There was definitely some ulterior motive to this request and it was probably the reason that George had come over with him to ask. But you knew that you wouldn’t be able to say no. You took Dean’s outstretched hand and allowed him to lead you over to the 1917 table where George was sitting, sipping a glass of something. 

“Oi, George. Stand up, straighten your tie.” Dean quipped, his smirk ever-growing as you got closer. George shot to his feet, almost dropping his drink as his hand flew to his tie. “This is-”

“Y/N Y/L/N.” You interrupted him, if not for your sake then for George’s. “I’ve seen 1917 maybe three times now and I’ve never been more stunned by a film. You did incredible.” 

You shook hands with the poor Brit, surprised that you hadn’t fainted in his presence yet. His hands were rough, calloused, and yet warm and comforting. You had a sudden urge to lace your fingers with his. 

“It’s a pleasure.” He smiled at you. “You were amazing in your film, positively blew me away. I’ve followed your entire promo tour.”

oh. 

You couldn’t help the furious blush that enflamed your face. “I-I’ve done the same for you.”

Luckily, George began to blush. Hard. His blue eyes lit up, getting those happy smile lines around the corners. “Really?” 

“Yeah, of course.” You couldn’t help but smile back at him. 

George turned back towards his table, grabbing a napkin and a pen. He quickly scribbled something down on the napkin and held it out to you. You took it, your heart racing.

It was his number. 

“If you aren’t leaving so soon, would you like to get together?” George asked as the music began to play. 

“I’d love to.” You beamed up at him. “Good luck tonight George.” Gripping the napkin in your fist, you took your seat. 

As the award show carried on, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. You also couldn’t keep your heart from beating a little faster than usual. No award could compare to the happiness you were feeling in this moment.

I hope you liked it!Also here’s the link to my masterlist! (finally)And I’m sorry if people have been waiting for a tagslist or something, I’ve not been keeping up with it. Please comment on any of my fics if you would like to be put in a tagslist of sorts and I’ll do my very best to make one. Much love!

#George Mackay #george mackay imagines #george mackay x reader #Dean-Charles Chapman #george mackay fluff #1917 movie #1917 film #strangethings-everywhere #my requests

[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