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storiesforallfandoms · 9 months

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early morning ~ will schofield;1917

word count: 2203

request?: yes!

@lilah1020: “Imagine Will schofield fluffy smut with wife reader”

description: on a rare occasion when they wake up before their children, they decide to take advantage of the time to be intimate

pairing: will shofield x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (oral - f receiving, unprotected p in v, praising, dirty talk)

masterlist (one, two, three)

Having two children - especially two young children at that - meant very little “alone time”. The girls were usually the first ones awake in the house, and thus would run into their parents’ room to wake them up. Between work, house chores, and looking after the kids, there wasn’t much time for Will and (Y/N) to be alone. And by the end of the night, when the kids were bathed and in bed, they were just too tired for any form of physical intimacy.

It was hard. Not that either of them thought they needed physical intimacy for their marriage to work. After their oldest daughter was born, they knew sex was going to be few and far between, and they definitely knew that’s how it would be after their second daughter was born. They were aware of it, and they were more than okay with that sacrifice at first. But the complete lack of sex had been hard for both of them.

It was a rare morning where (Y/N) wasn’t woken by a tiny body jumping on her. Her eyes slowly blinked until the sleep was completely out of them. The room was quiet. In fact, the whole house was quiet. No small voices yelling, no hushed voices beside her as Will tried to convince the girls to let their mother sleep. Nothing. Just silence.

(Y/N) rolled over to see Will sleeping peacefully beside her. She smiled as she looked at his handsome face. Every day she thought to herself about how lucky she was to have him; how lucky she was to have their little family.

As if sensing her eyes on him, Will slowly stirred. He opened one eye, then smiled as he closed it again. “Good morning, love.”

“Good morning,” she responded.

“Where are the girls?”

“Still asleep.”

Will had stretched his arms out, but paused after hearing her response. “Really?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Listen.”

They both paused, taking in the silence of the house. Will looked shocked at the revelation. “They’re asleep? They actually are not awake before us for once?”

(Y/N) giggled and nodded again. “I guess they were really tired after last night.”

The night before, the Schofields had been to a neighborhood celebration that included a barbecue and fireworks to end the night. Will and (Y/N) had let the girls stay up late so they could enjoy the festivities. By the time they got home, the adrenaline (and the sugar) from the night was finally wearing off and, within seconds, they were asleep.

Seemed it was enough to keep them asleep past their usual wake up time.

Will looked like he was still trying to understand the fact that his daughters were actually still asleep. (Y/N) was still pretty shocked herself. She was almost convinced that she was dreaming, and she would soon actually be woken up by her two energetic daughters.

“Love,” Will said.

“Yes, darling?” (Y/N) responded.

Will took her face in his hands and pulled her into a kiss. It was passionate and needy from the moment their lips met. (Y/N) took hold of Will’s shirt, clenching the material between her fists as she held him to her. One of his hands moved from her face to slip under the night shirt she was hearing. When his hand touched her bare skin, it ignited her. It left a fiery, tingling feeling in his wake. One that trailed down her body and between her legs. She was yearning for him. She needed him so desperately, just from kissing and a few gentle touches.

Will slowly laid (Y/N) on her back, his lips still attached to hers. When he pulled away, she tried to follow him. He chuckled and eased her back down on the bed. He moved to her neck, kissing the soft area all over until he found the spot that made her whimper. He kept his focus on that spot, sucking and biting until he was sure he had left marks. He pushed up her night gown to expose her breasts. She gasped as he put his mouth to one of them, circling her nipple with his tongue. His hand fondled her other breast, rolling the nipple until it was hard and pointed, then took that one in his mouth as well.

A moan slipped from her lips. She quickly covered her mouth as Will’s mouth let go of her breast to shush her.

“Sorry,” she said in a whisper. She put her hand back over her mouth as his kissing continued downwards.

He left wet, open mouth kisses over her stomach and down towards her mound. Her breath hitched and a muffled whimper came from around her hand at the feeling of his hot breath against her already dripping wet pussy. Desperation was rising within her. She was so close to begging for him to touch her, she didn’t even care how he’d do it. She just needed to feel him, to have him pull that release from her again like he always knew how to. But she didn’t have to beg, because he wasted no time in attaching his lips to her clit.

A gasp ripped from (Y/N)’s lips, her hand moving away from her mouth to grab hold of Will’s hair. She gently tugged it by accident, but it earned her a moan from him. The vibration from it sent shockwaves through her body. She bit down on her bottom lip to try and keep her moans quiet, but it felt almost impossible. She hadn’t felt this good in a long time, and it was hard to not let that out. His tongue against her felt heavenly as he licked long stripes from her pussy to the tip of her clit.

“F-Fuck,” (Y/N) whispered. “God, Will, that feels so fucking good.”

Will peered up at his beautiful wife, writhing in pleasure above him. Her eyes were shut and her head was thrown back, with one hand in his hair and the other gripping the sheets beneath her. She looked angelic, and her quiet noises of pleasure definitely sounded like they were coming straight from a heavenly angel. He wanted to be inside her desperately. He needed to feel her warm walls around his throbbing hard cock. But he wanted to make her feel good first, because he wasn’t sure how long he’d last once he was inside her.

“Are you close, love?” he asked her, continuing to stroke her clit with his thumb while his mouth was absent. She nodded, her eyes still tightly shut. “Look at me, my love.”

She managed to force her eyes open to look down at Will. He smiled at her face, already fucked out and he hadn’t even fucked her yet.

“Cum for me, my love,” he coaxed. “Cum for me and I’ll give you what you want.”

The minute his mouth pressed against her again, she did exactly as he requested. Her head fell back onto the pillow again, and she quickly clapped a hand over her mouth as the pleasure tore through her. Will lapped at her pussy, taking every last drop of her juices as if he needed it to survive. Her body trembled so violently that she wasn’t sure it would ever stop.

Her head was fuzzy, in a good way. She felt like she was on cloud nine as Will kissed up her body again. He placed a sweet yet passionate kiss against her lips. She could taste herself on his mouth, which just turned her on again.

Will stood from the bed just long enough to pull his boxers off and kick them to the side. (Y/N) all but yanked him back to the bed when his lower half was naked. His hard cock pressed against her thigh as his lips found hers again. Her hips bucked in an attempt to gain some friction between them.

Will chuckled. “Impatient thing, aren’t you?”

“We don’t have long,” she reminded him. “And you promised to give me what I wanted.”

“You’re right, I did promise that.” His tip nudged her entrance, earning him another gasp. “And I intend on keeping that promise.”

He pushed into her slowly, letting both of them feel every inch of his cock filling her up. He kissed her, letting his mouth swallow her moans. He lowered himself so he was pressing against her as much as he could without crushing her, resting his elbows on either side of her head.

“You feel so good,” he mumbled against her lips. “I almost forgot how good this pussy felt.”

“Please, Will,” she begged. “Make love to me.”

He kissed her. “You don’t have to beg, love. I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

When he slowly pulled his hips back and thrust them forward at the same pace, (Y/N) could’ve swore she saw stars. It was the simplest movement, but it brought so much pleasure that it made her head spin. She grabbed at his shoulders to try to ground herself.

“You’re so beautiful,” Will whispered as he continued his slow thrusts. “God, I’ve missed seeing you like this. You’re so gorgeous when you’re all wrapped around my cock like this.”

Her only response was another moan. Will decided not to quiet her this time. He missed hearing these sounds. He wished he could record them to have with him whenever he was away from her.

He kissed her, sweetly. As if he was giving her a good morning kiss and wasn’t buried deep inside of her.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you, too,” she responded. It was the only coherent thought in her head. “I love you so much. Fuck, Will.”

“Do you feel good, my love?” She nodded. “Do you think you could cum one more time for me? I promise I’ll fill you up after.”

She nodded again. Will reached between them and started rubbing circles against her clit as his thrusts started picking up. (Y/N) barley had time to register her orgasm before it was already upon her. Will pressed his lips roughly against hers to stop her loud cries of pleasure. Feeling her tightening around him made him cum shortly after she did, his thrusts stilling so he could fill her up like he promised.

They weren’t sure how long they were tangled together, coming down from their climaxes. All concepts of life outside of this moment was lost on them. They just knew the lightheaded feeling of post-orgasm bliss. Will was pressing kisses against (Y/N)’s neck and jaw. She sighed, content to stay this way as long as possible.

Which, unfortunately for them, did not last nearly long enough.

The creaking of a door alerted them first. Their daughters’ bedroom door had always made a noise when it opened. Will had been saying for as long as they could remember that he would fix the door, but had never gotten around to it. Now it seemed to be their saving grace, the only indication that they had mere seconds before two little girls ran into their room.

Will pulled out of (Y/N) and tumbled onto the floor. (Y/N) stifled her laugh at his pained expression as she fixed her night shirt, covering the sticky mess between her legs. Will frantically grabbed for his boxers and pulled them back on just as the two girls rounded the corner and into the room. Their youngest daughter immediately jumped into bed, while their oldest looked at their father in concern.

“Daddy, why are you on the floor?” she asked.

“I - uh - I fell out of bed,” Will responded. “Got all tangled in the sheets as I was trying to get up and fell right off.”

“Daddy is a little clumsy this morning,” (Y/N) added.

“Is it because you were up so late last night?” the youngest girl asked.

Will nodded. “Yes. Yes, it’s definitely because of last night.

Their oldest got onto the bed with (Y/N). (Y/N) put both arms around her girls and pulled them close to her, kissing them on top of their heads.

“You both slept in pretty late,” she said.

“Because we stayed up late,” the youngest said. “Like grown ups do.”

“Don’t get used to it,” (Y/N) said. “You’re not growing up any time soon. In fact, I’ve decided that you’ll both be my little girls forever.”

Both girls started to speak at the same time, protesting their mother’s decision. Will chuckled as he leaned across the bed to also kiss his daughters.

“What do you girls say we head downstairs and start making breakfast? Let mummy get herself cleaned up for the day.”

He shot her a look that made her face heat up. The girls agreed and bounded out the door again before Will could follow them. He and (Y/N) shared a look before chuckling. Will leaned in to kiss (Y/N) one more time before reluctantly tearing away from her and their bed.

“I’m keeping them up until midnight tonight,” he said as he started walking out the door. “Maybe then I’ll have you all to myself tomorrow morning.”

#will schofield #will schofield imagine #will schofield x reader #will schofield smut #george mackay #george mackay imagine #george mackay x reader #george mackay smut #1917 #imagine #one shot #smut #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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bi-bard · 6 months

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Coming Back for You - Toby Nealey Imagine [I Came By]

Title: Coming Back for You

Pairing: Toby Nealey X Reader

Word Count: 2,004 words

Warning(s): **HEY, LOOK HERE!!!** kidnapping, hostage situation, mention of abuse (physical/emotional, but ultimately vague), mute reader

Summary: Toby finds himself in a far more dangerous situation than he ever meant to be involved in. However, he is saved by an unexpected source. Now, he is determined to return the favor.

Author's Note: I meant to write a story about this character a long time ago, and someone just recently reminded me of it, so I figured it was better late than never.

Also, I'm adding lore to Hector's story so that this story makes sense. I'm just gonna ask that you don't question me about it and just let it exist.

Toby Tag List: @dream-this-nightmare-over

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The first thing I heard was a thud on the floor.

At first, I assumed that it was just Hector moving around. But that wouldn't make sense. There was no sound after the thud. Hector always made a point to tell me when he was home. The door would shut and then he would call up to me. Or he would have warned me beforehand that he was bringing home a guest, so I could make myself scarce while he enjoyed his evening.

Once I knew that it wasn't Hector, I walked to the door. I don't know what my plan was. To confirm my suspicions, find a phone so I could call the police, try to plead for help, or simply warn the poor soul that had been unfortunate enough to come in. Maybe it was all of the above. Or maybe I had just gotten so lonely that facing down some burglar felt comforting in a way.

My hand paused on the doorknob. I stared at it.

Hector's words rang in my head: "You are not to leave this room until I come and get you. No matter what."

I had learned better than to not heed his warning. Not that he would ever call it a warning. If I had to guess, then I would say that he probably saw it as an act of protection or love. However, I liked to avoid guessing about him. He never liked when he believed that I was assuming things about him.

I had been a permanent guest in Hector's home for a few years by then. A silent presence. I never knew what I was meant to be in his mind. But I guess at some it didn't truly matter anymore.

I was to the point that I could barely remember a life before him. I just knew that I had one... and that I was never getting it back.

I could still remember the times when I would cry every night, sobbing as I shook. I would beg him to just let me go... or to simply kill me and let me have some peace. He didn't like when I did that. He said it made him feel bad for merely offering me a better life. I don't know if he had truly forgotten that he less offered me this life than he forced me into it or if he was just trying to ignore that he had taken me from my family.

It didn't take long for me to learn that he wanted silence from me. I had trained myself to be silent. Quiet at all times. I communicated in nods and head shakes and pointing and kind, gentle smiles that seemed to quell Hector's anger for the time being. It was just less of a reminder that I wasn't truly who he wanted me to take the place of.

It only took a few more sounds of the creaking floor for me to say hell with the consequences. I opened the door slowly and leaned my head out through the doorway. I couldn't see anything from there.

I slowly walked down the stairs, taking note to avoid the creaking steps. I paused, waiting for some sign of a person. There was nothing.

And then, there was a crash. A distinct sound of someone stumbling over something and then falling.

It was coming from the basement. My heart dropped. I had been avoiding the basement for a long time. It made me think of my crying and my begging. I didn't like being around it.

I quickly opened the door, seeing a man hurrying to stand a few steps away from the bottom.

He looked up at me. I squinted at the feeling of his headlamp shining in my eyes. He had all dark clothes on. He was a stranger. Definitely a stranger.

And he looked scared.

I knew what he had seen. I had seen it too.

My head perked up when I heard the gate opening.

It was as if every reaction after that was instinctual. I never considered myself a hero or anything great, but I found myself focusing on nothing more than getting that man out of the house.

I ran down the few steps between us before grabbing his hand and dragging him upstairs with me.

I was quick, as quiet as ever as I dragged him up the main stairs and up to my room. I pushed him inside and quietly closed the door. I continued shoving him to the window. I pointed at it, trying to get him to go to it.

There was a time when the window was sealed. I had managed to get it undone a long time ago but learned better than to try to get out through it. Pavlov's dog and all that.

"Is he... Is he keeping you here," the man asked.

I didn't have time to answer his questions, I just pushed him again.

"How long have you been here?"

I waved him away.

"(Y/n)! I'm home," Hector called from downstairs.

I panicked, pushing the stranger again. I was silently begging him to go. Save himself.

He finally listened to himself, opening the window and beginning to climb out. He turned around in the windowsill.

"I'm coming back for you," he promised.

"(Y/n)?" Hector called again.

"My name's Toby," the stranger explained. I furrowed my eyebrows, trying to figure out why he needed to tell me that. "I'll... I'll be back."

He quickly climbed out of the window. I shoved it closed as soon as I knew that he was out of it completely. I took a deep breath before going to step out into the hall. I walked down the steps, stopping a few steps from the bottom.

"There you are," Hector said. "Are you okay?"

I nodded, furrowing my eyebrows in the hopes of acting like I didn't know why he would be asking.

"Good, good," he muttered. He looked flustered. Worried. He knew that someone had been there. "You can go back to your room."

I nodded again, turning and going back up the stairs.

I let out a shaky breath as soon as my door closed behind me.

Toby was the first person I had seen other than Hector in a very long time. I found myself scared. Terrified. But I couldn't quite figure out what I was scared about. Was it the idea of Hector finding out that I had let some stranger escape after seeing his secret? Or the idea that I may never see Toby again and all that he said about coming back had been a lie? Or was it fear over what life would be like after I finally got out of that house and back to the real world?

I thought that I was going to have time to forget about Toby. I thought it was best to lose the hope early. Some part of me believed that it was going to save me from some pain in the long run.

How foolish of me.

The next night, I heard a noise downstairs again.

And again, I knew it wasn't Hector. He had left for the night. He didn't give me many details, just that he was going out.

I heard the stairs creaking as someone walked up them. Closer and closer to my door. I backed up toward the wall behind me, pressing my hand over my mouth.

It opened slowly.

On the other side of the door was Toby.

My hand fell away as my mouth fell open in shock. He was there. He came back. He was telling me the truth.

"It's okay, it's just me," he held up his hands. "I'm here to get you out."

I furrowed my eyebrows.

He held out his hand. "Come on."

I stared at his hand. There were a million and one ideas going through my mind. I gave up on the idea of being saved a long time ago. I knew the pull that Hector had. I knew the position of power he was in and after so long being in that room... in that house... I just gave up on hoping.

What was I meant to do when someone was finally giving me a chance?

I couldn't get myself to move.

"We don't have much time," Toby said, walking over to me. "We need to hurry. I... I have a place for you. A safe one. We can get you some food and clothes and stuff. And then, we can go to the police and you can explain what happened. Then, the basement gets found and no one else gets hurt."

Wow. He had thought the whole thing through.

"Please... come with me," he pushed one last time, hand outstretched.

I took a deep breath before slowly placing my hand in his. He grinned and started pulling me to the door. I only stopped him long enough for me to pull on some shoes.

After that, Toby dragged me back down the stairs and outside of the house the same way that he had supposedly come in.

After making it through the house and the garden, Toby started running down the road.

I tried to keep up with him, but it had been a long time since I had needed to run any kind of distance. It was also the first time I had truly been outside in years. The cold air made my lungs burn and my legs felt as if they were going numb underneath me.

But then, I felt a smile forming. The first genuine smile I had experienced in so long that I had forgotten it had existed. Along with that smile came tears. Tears of relief as I felt myself finally becoming free again. It was like chains were falling off of my body with every step I took.

I don't know how long we had gone before Toby finally slowed down. I just knew that I didn't recognize anything in the world around me. I continued walking with him, looking around at all of the buildings surrounding me. I never thought about how much the world around me had changed while I wasn't looking. It was overwhelming.

"So, umm... we're gonna stay with my mom. Just until we track down your family," Toby explained. I found my steps slowing down as I watched him. "She... She'll be alright with it once I tell her what's going on."

I stopped completely. Toby was forced to stop when I did because he still had his hand in mine. He furrowed his eyebrows at me.

"What is it?"

I stopped, still unable to form the words that I needed.

"You're safe now. I promise. He's never gonna-"

Toby stopped talking when I stepped forward and hugged him. I wrapped my arms around him tightly, shutting my eyes as firmly as I could. I felt his arms wrapping around me. He kept mumbling that I was safe. That he was going to keep me safe.

"Hey," he muttered. He pulled back, hands touching my upper arms. "We should keep going."

I nodded, letting him reach down and grab my hand again.

We didn't have to sprint away again. Instead, we walked. We walked in a comforting silence.

I took a deep breath. The air was crisp. It was cold against my skin. I never knew how much I would miss a feeling like that until now.

The only part of me that didn't feel the cold of the world around me was my hand. It was warm, Toby's hold on it serving as a protective shield of sorts. There was something about his touch that brought me a sense of peace that I had never known. One that I may not know for a long time after that night when I went to the police.

But I could cherish it for the time being.

And I could love it for the time being.

And that felt like it was good enough for now.

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#imagine #fanfiction #x reader #i came by imagine #i came by fanfiction #i came by x reader #toby nealey imagine #toby nealey fanfiction #toby nealey x reader #george mackay imagine #george mackay fanfiction #george mackay x reader

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george-mackay-macfine · 3 months

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I'm back into the writing mood after some heavy shit.

Now opening up the requests for Will Poulter, Jeremy Allen White, Ben Hardy (and their characters) as well as the usual roster.

Will and JAW girlies slid into the DM's

#george mackay #george mackay imagine #george mackay fanfic #georgemackay #george mackay x reader #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x yn #henry cavill imagine #jeremy allen white #will poulter

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marrziy · 3 months

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Jack Marrowbone x Reader

"Decisão de não deixar partir"

• Filme: O Segredo de Marrowbone (2017)

• Gênero: sad

• Sinopse: você está errado e carrega a culpa nas costas, mas o erro em questão convém a você e ao seu amor, então, com grande pesar, você se permite errar, aceitando um futuro miserável para evitar uma tragédia.

• Palavras: 428

1° pessoa - passado

Escrevi pensando em leitor masculino, mas o texto não deixa isso claro (só na sinopse mesmo), então tá aí pra todo mundo kkkk

A receita estava na lixeira, junto aos frascos vazios. As pílulas eram levadas pela descarga, assim como a minha boa vontade de insistir na melhora.

Ele não podia melhorar… Não podia, porque se estivesse curado, iria morrer.

Respirei profundamente, não por necessidade, mas por querer que meu pulmão explodisse de tão cheio.

Tentei me convencer de que essa era a única opção. Afirmei a minha cabeça apegada na moral, que fiz o certo por vias tortas, me livrando um pouco do peso.

Bastava estagnar no passado, era só não seguir em frente que tudo ficaria bem.

Sem ponto final, apenas três pontos…

Encarando meu reflexo no espelho, senti um forte impulso, uma vontade absurda de me castigar. A mão tremia, ansiosa para estapear a face refletida. Mas me contive. Resolvi apaziguar com água, eliminando o caminho salgado das lágrimas secas que escorreram pelas bochechas.

Saí do banheiro em outra versão de mim.

Uma realidade que só era fato porque eu queria muito.

Os primeiros degraus foram fáceis de descer, era a madeira velha de sempre, anunciando os anos de pisoteio a cada rangido.

Mas a risada de Jack ecoou pela casa e chegou aos meus ouvidos. Isso me desestabilizou, arrancou com brutalidade a máscara que eu tentei manter.

A dor inchou na minha garganta, mas eu a engoli.

Insisti no sorriso, para permanecer apresentável, mas meus lábios continuavam curvando para baixo, as sobrancelhas queriam posar em sincronia com minha angústia e os olhos eram sinceros demais para segurar o pranto.

O remorso me roía, atormentava e alucinava.

Pouco antes de ficar visível na sala de jantar, me recompus, fingi estar bem para Jack, que ria docemente de algo contado por um dos irmãos.

Jack enxugou os olhos, marejados de alegria. — Oi amor! Finalmente você acordou. Vem cá! – a voz contagiante me chamou.

E eu corri até ele.

E ignorei tudo ao redor.

Sentei no colo de Jack, o abracei com força, respirando na curvatura de seu pescoço, sentindo-o com todo o meu ser e torcendo para que ele não me sentisse de volta, que não percebesse meus cacos.

— O Billy tava me contando que… – ele foi cortado pela própria doce risada. — que quando ele foi limpar a chaminé, um guaxinim o atacou! Olha pra ele, tá todo descabelado!

Eu olhei, mas não vi nada.

Nas demais cadeiras, não havia ninguém.

Os irmãos de Jack, com quem ele se divertia tanto... só ele os via.

Se eu quisesse vê-los, teria que ir até o coração da floresta, na carcaça de um carvalho, onde os corpos apodreciam a sete palmos da terra.

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iridescentprose · 3 months

Note

Hi 👋🏾 I recently watched a movie on netflix 'I came by' and there was this certain character who caught my eye 👁

Can you please write some headcannons (sfw) for Him? No specific topic

Toby Nealy please

God Bless you 🙏🏾

toby nealy headcannons - I Came by x reader!insert

author's note: thanks for the suggestion, anon! Please enjoy! God bless!

-Toby's hands are littered with scars. You can feel them beneath your fingertips as he's holding your hands, struggling to get the truth of what he saw off his tongue. His eyes are wide and he's stuttering as he pulls you close to him. He squeezes you tightly, as if to shake off the fear that's rattled his body.

-Toby smells of cigarettes. As he's you begging you to believe him, he refuses to let you go. You can smell the sharp stench of cigarettes on the collar of his jacket. You wonder if whatever he's about to tell you is going to get him to stop smoking. He's too young—too precious to smell like nicotine.

-Toby's eyes are always bloodshot. Not even you can help him get a good night's sleep despite the fact that he's called his 'little melatonin'. You've stayed up all night with him once before — the same night he told you he was the 'I Came By' tagger. Now you're wondering if you'll be able to sleep peacefully when he tells you about the body in the judge's basement.

-Toby always smiles when he's around you. It's a mischievous, crooked smile that tells you he's up to no good. It never stays around for long because he's paranoid something or someone will steal it from him. The news he whispers to you in the dead of night is haunting. He's not smiling. And as you peel back to look at his fear-stricken face, you're afraid you won't see his smile for quite some time.

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #i came by netflix #i came by #netflix #i came by movie #george mackay fanfiction #george mackay headcanons

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pennylanefics · 5 months

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A Promise | Part 2 - William Schofield

a/n: it has been a while!! i rewatched 1917 the other night and my love for the film and characters has been reignited, so i decided to finish this fic that i wrote almost three years ago! i am so happy that i was able to finish this and hope you enjoy <3

read part 1 here

WARNINGS: mentions of death

word count: 3,856

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Silence hangs in the air as Will stares at you in disbelief. He had no idea what to say or how to react to this sort of confession whatsoever.

“What?” He mutters out, eyes widening in fear, even backing up away from you a little bit.

Your chest felt so tight the longer the silence went on, like it was suffocating you and you couldn’t escape it. With some deep breaths, you calm your erratic breathing, but your hands were still shaking like a leaf in the wind.

“Ever since you started, um, coming around and visiting us…I’ve…I’ve really fallen for you, Will.” You have yet to meet his eyes, terrified of seeing his reaction through them. “And I didn’t know how to go about telling you because I’m so worried.”

Again, Will says nothing, and it was starting to get really discouraging. He truly had no idea what to say or what to feel. But deep down, he felt something. And that’s what scared him.

As he was going to finally speak, Percy’s cries erupt in the otherwise still household, and he shoots up, finding it a perfect excuse to get away from this conversation. The second he is out of the room, you burst into tears, covering your mouth to hush your own cries.

You take the chance to make an exit of your own, running right towards your bedroom and shutting the door just loud enough to let Will know that you were no longer on the couch waiting for him. Hearing this, he lets out a soft sigh, glad to know he can have the rest of the night to think over things and gather his thoughts.

Percy had thankfully quieted down as Will rocked him slowly in the rocking chair of the corner of his nursery. Looking down at the three month old baby in his arms, he shakes his head, seeing a striking image of his close friend who he misses so dearly.

When the baby was fast asleep, Will carefully puts him in his crib and walks out of the room, keeping the door cracked ever so slightly just in case he cries anymore. Looking down the hall, he sees your door completely shut. As much as he wants to walk right up to it and talk to you, he turns away and steps into his room, deciding to give you the space you need.

The days following your confession, you try your best to avoid Will at all costs. Unfortunately, since he is the father figure for your child, it was very difficult to do, but you managed to keep conversation and chatter to a minimum whenever you did.

Iris had even noticed the tension with the two of you, and pulled you aside one day when Will went into town for some groceries.

“(Y/N), honey, is everything alright between you and Will?” You two were baking some desserts for a few neighbors since the snow was finally starting to melt away from the winter storm a couple weeks ago and people were now able to get out and see others and deliver things.

Sighing, you set the whisk down in the bowl of batter you were mixing and look towards her. Thinking for a moment, knowing that you were going to spill all of the feelings you had inside, you go back to whisking the mixture for the moment.

“Let’s get this last batch into the oven and then I’ll explain.”

You knew you had to be quick with things, as Will could be home at any point of time, though he’s only been gone for less than an hour, trips to the local market took far longer than that usually.

Finally, you get the tins into the oven and set the timer when Iris bringing you to the living room and sits you down on the couch next to her. She waits for you to be the one to start the conversation, not wanting to push anything.

“Um, I’ve felt this way for a little while now, but I have really fallen in love with Will,” you tell her first and foremost. “And navigating these feelings has not been easy.”

“Darling, that’s beautiful. So why has everything felt so tense between you two then?”

With a pause, you fiddle with your fingers for a moment before you start tugging at a loose string on your dress.

“I told him and he didn’t react well. He said not one word about it, and then ran off when Percy started to cry. That was almost a week ago and we haven’t spoken much since. I don’t know what to do, Iris.”

“In terms of interpreting how he reacted or feeling this way?” You take another moment to think about her question.

“Both. I love him very much, I’m entirely sure of that, but…it feels wrong.” Getting this admission off your chest felt better than telling Will how you felt. This was the deep root of everything.

“Why?”

You take a moment to respond, feeling a little embarrassed and bad for feeling the way you do.

“It makes me feel guilty. Like I am giving up on Tom. I’m loving someone else when I promised him he’s the only one I’d ever love.” The tears brimming your eyes finally spill down your cheeks, and Iris is quick to hand you a handkerchief to wipe them away.

“Honey, I know it feels hard letting Tom go, but he wouldn’t want you to be miserable and attach to him when there’s someone else out there that makes you happy. And the fact that it’s Will, he would have been very elated, because he knows he can prodive you a wonderful life.” She pauses, listening to you sniffle and watches as you continue to wipe the non-stop tears away.

“I know he would want me to move on, but I hate that I have to,” you cry out, hiding your face in your hands as you sob loudly, everything hitting you once again. Iris gives you the time you need, gently rubbing your back as you let all of your emotions out.

“You shouldn’t have to, but you need to. I would hate to see you deprive yourself of something so wonderful, that you deserve, because you fear of forgetting Tom. I know you will never forget him. And loving Will doesn’t mean you never loved Tom or will stop loving him. I know my son meant the world to you, and nothing can replace the love you shared. But maybe this new chapter will do you some good, bring some light into your life.”

You think over her words and slowly nod, looking down at the sewn handkerchief she gave you, slightly damp from the tears you shed.

“Thank you, Iris,” you whisper, gazing up at her with a fond smile. She reaches over to squeeze your hand, her other hand raising up to your back once more.

“Of course, darling. I’m always going to be here for you in times like this.”

The two finish up baking for the day, preparing everything into an orgaized pile to distribute them tomorrow. Will, on the other hand, had quite an eventful morning before going to the market.

WILL’S POV:

Before I went to the market to stock up the house, I decided to take a little trip to see my mother and get her advice on this situation. I also planned on talking to Iris, but I needed my mother’s words first, she always knew the right thing to say.

“Hi, mum,” I greet her with a hug.

“Oh, it’s so nice to see you, my son. How is everything at the Blake household?” Gulping nervously, I take a seat on the armchair in the living room, as she takes a seat back on the couch, where she was currently knitting something.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about that.” I nervously wring my hands together and take a deep breath.

“What’s going on?”

“Well, you obviously know I’ve been helping the with Percy and everything else in general.”

“Yeah, and it’s going well, isn’t it?”

“Kind of,” I taper off. At this point, she sets her supplies down and focuses her full attention onto me. “(Y/N) told me she’s in love with me.”

She says nothing, her eyebrows furrowing a little bit in wonder.

“And…there’s a problem with that?” Her question throws me off a little. Was there a problem? Obviously there was, but why?

“I don’t know,” I mutter, shaking my head.

“Do you love her?” I’m stunned silent by her follow-up question, and suddenly, everything settles in. All the feelings I’ve been trying to push away the past few months, seeing how wonderful (Y/N) is and how beautiful of a person she has become, even in the face of tragedy of losing her lover and the father of her child.

“I think so,” I finally whisper after a few moments of thinking over things. “But I’m terrified, mum.”

She scoots closer, sitting on the end of the couch closest to me, and grabs my hands. My head raises to look at the serious expression on her face.

“There is nothing to be scared of, Will. If she loves you and you love her, there’s no hurt in seeing where things can go with each other. You’re already a father figure in that little boy’s life, it’s no surprise that you feel so strongly towards her.”

“What if I’m not enough?” My response leaves her speechless, she has no clue what to say. “What if I can’t give her what Tom gave her?”

“Listen to me, William. You cannot think that way. Tom may have been her love, but he’s no longer here. No two men will ever love the same woman the exact same way, things are bound to be different, but you won’t see that until you try. It could be so beautiful for the two of you, but if you’re held back by that fear, both of you are going to be miserable.”

Her words knock some sense into me and I sit there, nodding along to everything she says. Instantly, I feel a ton better about this situation, and have a small plan on how to fix thing when I get home, if (Y/N) is even up to hear me out.

“Thank you so much, mum,” I sigh softly, standing to give her a hug. She squeezes me tight, something she does when she knows I’ve got a lot on my mind and need love and support.

“I’m glad I could help. Now go talk to that wonderful girl and fix things!” I laugh a little and bid her goodbye, making my way into the town market to gather everything needed for the four of us back home on the Blake estate.

READER’S POV:

You were finishing up feeding Percy his afternoon bottle in his nursery when you hear the front door open and close, and Will’s voice greeting Iris, who sits on the couch reading a book.

She helps him bring all of the items from the market inside and the two of them take their time in putting everything away. You were still rocking Percy after burping him, but all you wanted to do was hide in your room to avoid Will as much as possible.

“Um, Iris, can I ask you something?” Will decides to ask her now, finding it perfect while they put things away and with you being absent for the time being.

“Of course, Will. You know you can talk to me about anything.” Will nods and takes a deep breath after placing a bag of veggies in the refridgerator.

“I don’t know if she’s mentioned it to you, but the other night, while you were away, (Y/N) admitted that she loves me. Well, she phrased it as in love, if there’s a difference.”

Iris chuckles softly and nods, grabbing cans of beans to put them in the cupboard.

“She did talk to me about it, earlier today. And she said that you didn’t react well.” Will nods in shame and sets down the cans he was holding, ready to put away.

“I went to my mum and asked for advice, because she always knows what to say. She…well, what she said and told me got me to think over things.”

“I can tell she really cares for you, Will. She may have loved Tom, but that doesn’t mean she can’t love you.”

“I fear that I won’t be able to love her as much as Tom did,” he admit to her. Iris sighs and walks over to stand next to the young man, resting her hand on his back as gently as ever. “Tom talked about her like she hung the moon and stars in the sky. I don’t know if I’ll be able to live up to the love he had for her.”

“You can’t simply live and think like that. I’ll tell you what I told her. Her loving you doesn’t diminish the fact that she loved Tom. While Tom did love her dearly, you can provide a different kind of love, and if she’s willing to move forward with that, I don’t see the problem.”

“My mum said the same thing,” he smiles a little, looking over at Iris. She offers him a small grin to him and drops her hand.

“Do you love her?” She asks after some time. The smile on Will’s face remains as he answers her differently than he answered his own mother.

“I do,” he says confidently.

“Then tell her. Because the both of you deserve to be happy, and I know Tom would want the two of you to be. It’s not that you or (Y/N) are going to forget him, but it’s healthy to move on, and I think you guys would be very lovely together.”

Will widely smiles at her words and finishes putting all of the groceries away.

“Go talk to her, last I remember she was putting Percy down for a nap.”

Will takes his chance to go find you, checking the nursery first. Upon quietly opening the door, he sees the light was off and Percy was in his crib, fast asleep. He backs out and leaves it cracked like he usually does before he steps a few ways down to your door.

It takes him a few seconds to gain the courage to knock on your door, and when he does, you don’t answer for a little bit. He thinks that you’re laying down for a nap as well, and as he goes to walk away, you slowly open the door and come face to face with him.

“Hi,” he whispers, gulping nervously. Gazing into his beautiful blue eyes for the first time in a week, your heart begins to race in your chest, all of your feeling still very clear for him. “Um, is this an okay time to talk?”

“Uh, yeah,” you mumble, stepping to the side to let him in. Shutting the door softly, you take a seat on your bed while he sits in the chair next to it, keeping his eyes on the ground.

“I’ve done a lot of thinking and talking to my mum and Iris, and I know you deserve answers as to…what happened last week.” You nod at him and wait for him to continue before you speak any. “I love you as well, (Y/N). I’ve had a lot of conflicting feelings and after speaking to them, things have become more clear and I’ve come to terms with how I feel.”

Will pauses to look up at you, his bright eyes shining with a few tears. His mouth opens and closes as he tries to find the right words to say.

“I have fallen for you. I pushed it away because I felt so much guilt and fear, I kept telling myself it was nothing, that what I was feeling was admiration for a friend. But I can’t keep pretending, you mean so much to me and I have fallen in love with you too. I was terrified of everything.”

“How do you think I felt, Will?” You finally manage to speak, your voice coming out rather choked and shaky. Tears were also threatening to spill over and Will stares at you in surprise. “I’ve had these feelings for a couple months, and so much guilt has surrounded me. Like I am a bad person for falling in love with someone that’s not Tom, the man I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with.”

“I’ve had the same feelings, sort of. I know I can’t love you the same way Tom did, and I know he holds a very special place in your heart. I am terrified of not loving you to that extent, to not be able to provide the love he gave you, that you deserve.”

“I know what I deserve. And you have given me something to live for after such tragedy. I never thought I could love someone the way I loved Tom, but falling for you has been so different, a good different. While I still love Tom and I always will, living in the past is not good. We have to move on and not get hung up on those that have passed. I will never forget the place he had in my life, but you…you have become such a special person to me, Will. And I can’t deny the feelings I have any longer.”

Will raises out of his seat to stand in front of you, grabbing your hands gently. Slowly, he kneels to the ground, and finally, the tears fall from your eyes, seeing the kind-hearted and soft look in his own.

“I promise you, from here on out, to give you a love that you deserve. I want the best for you and for Percy. I made a promise to Tom, and now I’m making a promise to you. To love you so deeply and to always be here for you, through everything. I know I won’t love you the way he did, but I will do my best, in my own way, to make sure you know you are loved and cared for, as well as Percy. You two are my life now, and I will do everything in my power to show you that.”

Without a response, you jump up and fall straight into his arms. But to make things more comfortable, Will stands up and grabs you, holding you tightly against his body, nuzzling his face into your shoulder. His large, muscular hands spread out across your back, and he never wants to let you go.

“I love you, (Y/N). I’ve truly fallen in love with you the same way you have with me.”

“I’m so thankful that Tom brought us together. I know neither of us want to get in the way of what he and I had together, but that doesn’t have to happen. We can love each other in our own way.”

Will pulls back to look at you and smiles so sweetly, a sight that you haven’t seen in a while. Your hand comes up to cradle his cheek and he leans into your touch.

“Have I told you that your smile is truly beautiful,” you whisper, your thumb softly stroking the apple of his cheek. He shakes his head in response and chuckles softly.

“You think so?” Going along with the silent answers, you nod your head before you lean forward and place the softest kiss on his cheek. A soft hum rumbles in his throat and he can’t help the way his heart beats like crazy in his chest. He’s never felt this way before, but everything was exciting him.

“Can I kiss you? Would that be okay?” Will asks quietly, not wanting to upset you or make you uncomfortable in any way.

“I’ve been wanting to since that night you got Percy to calm down,” you reply, referring to the night, about a month after Percy was born, when Will tried skin on skin with him and he instantly relaxed and stopped crying. He seems to know exactly what you mean, as it’s a memory he’s very clearly stored in his mind. But with your answer, his hand comes up to cup your face, his touch as tender and sweet as can be, and he slowly leans in.

In seconds, your lips press against his and it’s as beautiful as your first kiss with Tom. Though that thought is far in your mind, and all you can think of is Will. The scent of his cologne still lingering on his shirt, how soft his lips are and how you can taste the strawberry he stole while putting them away in the refrigerator. Your own hands trail up his chest and shoulders, resting on his neck.

Under your thumbs, you can feel his pulse racing, and you want to giggle so bad, but the feel of his lips pulls you back in and your mind is clouded with thoughts of him once more.

When the kiss ends, Will presses his forehead against yours, catching his breath. His eyes remain closed as he tries to calm his spiraling mind and breathing, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

“You’re so very special, my love,” he whispers, his breath hitting your lips. It sends a shiver up your spine and makes you want more of him. You barely even register the pet name, being so caught up with everything else.

“As are you, my hero.” He lets out another laugh and kisses you once more. The feeling makes your head spin and your knees weak, it’s a feeling you’ll never get over.

“Hm, beautiful girl. What do you say we spend the day next to the fireplace as I read to you?” He gently tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering on your face for a few seconds.

“I think that sounds wonderful. Iris is going into town soon to meet with her support group, so it’ll be the three of us for a few hours.” Will kisses your temple, continuing to rub your back comfortingly.

“I like the sound of that…the three of us,” he grins, looking down at you as your cheeks heat up, leading you to hide your face in his neck.

“It’s our little family.”

Your words seem to get to Will, and all of his emotions suddenly hit. But that fear isn’t as prominent as it was before, it’s a good feeling he gets when you say this. Hope fills him, and as much as it scares him, he welcomes it. Because even though things were going to be rocky in the beginning, he knew two things for sure.

His love for you was deep within him already, and he was more than ready to live his life with you fully by his side, as his lover.

—

tags from previous chapter: @thingsforimagination @fodenswhore

#william schofield #will schofield #george mackay #1917 #william schofield imagines #william schofield x reader #will schofield imagines #will schofield x reader #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

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xolt1ngs · 5 months

Text

I’m Suft, I try my bet to be somewhat active on here but don’t expect anything great. This account is 13+ but I of course can’t tell you what to do. Most of my writing will be x fem!reader and I don’t plan on using given names unless it’s a continuous fic.

Who I plan on writing for

James Hetfield

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

John Price

Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish

Keegan Russ

Logan Walker

George MacKay/William Schofield

Requests are appreciated

#james hetfield #james hetfield smut #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #john soap mactavish #john price #john price x reader #soap x reader #keegan russ #logan walker #logan walker x reader #suft’s thoughts #Spotify

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s1ater · 2 years

Text

we meet again. george mackay x reader

summary: in which reader has met the angel of death on many occasions, always finding some way to get away, but what about this time?

warning/s: swearing, mentions of murder and death

slater’s note: i know some of you enjoyed this concept, so i thought i’d pop another one of these out

you had shook his hand greatly, have meeting him many times before, each on different occasions of the edge, where he greeted all before their great end.

“you haven’t changed,” you mumbled, gripping his hand tightly, eyeing him up and down with the suit he had on, the same suit he wore the first time you had met him, and the second time, and the third.

“you say that every time,” he mumbled, huffing and looking away from you in what seemed to have been annoyance, but you should’ve known better, the angel of death doesn’t get annoyed.

“what’s it this time?” the two of you begin to walk, turning away from each other and allowing your shoulders to graze one another every once and awhile. “hit by a bus? food poisoning? murdered by a boyfriend?”

“funny,” his eyes grazed along the park view, paying closely attention to the people and animals that ran around in all their glory. “almost like all of those things have happened to you before.”

“well, i am the world’s biggest mystery,” you rose your hands in a proudness, “no one knows how i’ve escaped death so many times.”

“yeah, well, maybe not this time,” his voice was low, like he was trying to keep the words to himself, but failed as you rose an eyebrow, now looking to him questioningly.

“you sure, ole’ boy?”

“when am i ever?”

“the last four times.”

he shrugged, keeping silent and wondering to himself. it made you frown, now a little conscious to each step you were taking, wondering if this really was your time and you no longer could escape death.

“are we only crossing paths or are you really here to take me away this time?” your tone was flat and more serious now, no longer comfortable with the presence of someone you wish you could call a friend instead of an enemy.

“it depends,” he glanced to you, unsure of your path himself, but it felt different this time. he was sure your time had finally came to an end, but he could never be too certain due to thinking that the last couples of times he had came to encounter you.

the first time he had ever met you was at the age of five when you had walked straight out in front of a bus, unaware of all your surroundings and letting go of the safety of your mothers hand.

he had hovered over you, frowning, never finding pleasure in taking the soul of a young one. but strangely you had opened your eyes widely, like you had just been struck across the face and you had just realized.

you had survived.

the second time the two of you came across paths was the first time you had noticed him. there was something about him that made you feel safe even as an hour later you had once again almost touched deaths face with being shoved into the tracks of the subway by a stranger.

fortunately a woman quickly pulled you out, saving your life seconds before the subway could have ran you over. you were sixteen then, full of ambition and curiosity, causing you to forever wonder who the man in the black suit was on the other side of the tracks were, standing, and waiting for you to get trampled.

at eighteen you had eaten a bad piece of chicken on a birthday vacation, sending you for the bathroom of your hotel room, vomiting and vomiting until you laid weak against the cold tile bathroom floor, death soon accompanying you.

he held your hand lightly, analyzing your weak figure. your eyes barely cleared enough for you to tell who was holding your hand so comfortingly.

you were there for hours and he waited patiently, having no where to be but by your side like a companion.

eventually, the hospital was sent for and you once again slipped away from his finger tips.

finally, age twenty one you had come to realize who he was. you weren’t disturbed at all like many of the other people who had come to realize his position. rather, you found him comforting and someone there for you despite him quite literally only being there for your death.

he didn’t care for you as much as you cared about him. you found his visits exciting while he dreaded them.

but at twenty one you had almost been murdered by your very own boyfriend. he was shot dead before he could offer an explanation as to why.

you were only stabbed once, that being in the stomach. and although you seemed to be so close to your end, you pulled through, once again escaping the angel of death.

“if you’re so tired of our encounters, kill me yourself.”

“that’s not how it works.”

“i’m sure it could.”

“i’m not going to kill you.”

you pouted teasingly, “awh, boohoo.”

he rolled his eyes, “i’ll find you when it’s time.”

°•

with your heart in your throat you watched the scene unfold right in front of your eyes. so quickly and so easily, you almost thought it wasn’t real til you heard the screams that very much were, causing you to clench your jaw, wincing.

a man who’s identity that was concealed behind a black ski mask tightly gripped a young woman. it seemed that what may have been a mugging now turned into a kidnapping as he attempted to lug the girl into the back of his car.

“hey,” your face turned red and you couldn’t help but yell as you cautiously crossed the road, slightly unsure of your actions, “get away from her!”

your words only struck panic in the man, quickening his pace as he tried to induce her, but she continued to pull and kick away from him, finding hope that she would get away from this situation.

you joined arms with her as you tried to pull her away from him and soon you did, somehow allowing yourself to be taken ahold of by the man in the ski mask and taking her place as she ran despite your yelp.

you were caught off guard, being shoved into the back of his car, and then suddenly feeling a blunt force knocked against your head. your body went limp and you felt your vision slowly black out, but not before you caught the sight of the angel standing within the shadows, seeing through to your capture.

°•

black.

you vision was black and spotty till light suddenly flooded your vision and pain consumed your body like a flash of lightening. you didn't come to realization of what had happened until you saw him.

he sat across from you in a chair with his hands clasped, examining your face intently, waiting. you knew what for. and you truly believed it would happen just from the position you were in; a rope bound to your ankles and wrists, your body lying against the carpeted floor of what seemed to be a bedroom.

"help me."

"you know i can't help you," his face was blank but you could see a dash of sympathy that dotted his eyes as he slightly tilted his head to look at you better. "it's your time, but you need to breathe while you still can."

you coughed, feeling your voice at a strain, "no it's not." you rolled your head, observing your surroundings the best you could with your vision that was still slightly clouded. "it's not my time, i'm not going to die like this."

he watched you struggle as you maneuvered your body so you could attempt to stand or kneel or anything that wasn't laying. he almost found you pathetic—the way you got yourself into this mess. you were so much smarter than that and with all the misfortune you had been through, he would have hoped you'd be just a little more careful.

"he'll be back soon," the angel mumbled, still watching you go. "if you don't want to die, you'll have to be more sensible."

"don't tell me how to be sensible," you attempted to crawl toward the nightstand, hoping to break the rope with something in the drawer. “you might as well not speak if you aren’t going to help me.”

and then he was gone. vanished. disappeared. out of sight. he no longer sat in that chair.

you sighed, but continued worming your toward the drawer with persistence. you almost made it to the drawer to if it weren’t for a large grip pulling you back to the ground roughly. no mercy was shown as the man flipped you over to your back, fuming.

“bitch think you can get away,” he's straddling you now and oddly begins to untie you even as you struggle beneath him, just waiting to hit him and run. "you think you're so fucking tough, let's see how you deal with this."

once your arms are untied he moves fast to your feet but not before raising a gun, daring you to try anything. you stay back despite your skin crawling, begging you to run or move or do something that wasn't just sitting there.

the aching feeling finally got to you and you slung your foot on the side of his head the moment you felt the ropes loosen around your ankle. you got up fast only to trip again and he was quick to gab your leg, still clasping the side of his head in pain on the ground. you shook your leg vigorously, kicking him in the head multiple times as hard as you could till he let go. you got up fast and ran out the door.

"you fucking bitch!" he was already up barely giving you time to navigate your escape. "i'm going to kill you!"

you pushed into a room, locking the door, and finally catching your breath. you felt you couldn't process it—whatever this was. it didn't feel real and you almost questioned if this was a dream until the violent stomps of the man came rushing down the hall, causing the floor beneath you to vibrate.

"oh fuck," your hand shook as you lightly clamped it against your mouth, now searching for a light switch as your other hand swiped against the wall aggressively. "fuck."

you wished you didn't find that light switch. it would have been better to be left in the dark. but light still flooded in and with that the bloody body with an unintelligible face was sunken in within the bathtub. you let out a horrified scream, quickly covering your mouth in fear.

your whole body shook now and you wanted to cry. the reality of death became more clear and you wished the angel would have been here to comfort you.

"oh god-"

"i know you're in there!" the door begun to shake as the man on the other side pushed against it, wriggling the locked door handle. you became overwhelmed as you looked around the room, trying to avoid the body in search of some object to use as a weapon. you came to the conclusion that if you were going to leave alive, you'd have to hurt this man.

"open this door!"

you begun to shuffle around in the drawers quickly the moment he began to slam his body against the door. grief took over your body to the point the only feeling flowing through your body was an uncomfortable tingling, making you not want to move if it weren't for the fear of your life.

you almost gave up just as the door did and after that, your sight went black.

°•

you woke up to your head pounding and your arm screaming in agony. you forgot where you were. you couldn't think straight and your sight was barely clear as the only thing that you could clearly see was blood.

"hopefully, this taught you something," his tall figure hovered over you, examining your face, almost as if making sure life still bloomed in your eyes.

you didn't say a word, you almost didn't recognize him and you swore you were hallucinating. but laying in blood, you watched him go, and you knew this wasn't your time and the body he came to collect, wasn't yours.

navigation.

@transias @cc13723things @skateb0red @black-rose-29

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georgemackayhey · 4 years

Text

Hotter Than Summer

a/n: Remember when I promised more NSFW stuff? Yeah so this is by far the smuttiest thing I've ever written. Do Not interact with this is you're underaged. But if you're legal, have fun! 18+ only

w/c: 8k

───※ ·❆· ※───

Every year, you went on a trip with your family.

Your parents and siblings would cram into one car, and meet up with your neighbors in the countryside, under the same roof. A cabin that over looked a lake, that housed a forest, that wrapped all the way around to where you were.

You'd go in the dead of summer, when school let out. When the mosquitoes were rampant and the heat was crippling. You couldn't ever figure out what was so enjoyable about heading into the middle of no place to melt inside a rented home for a few weeks, but you went back each year. Of course, swimming in the lake was a blast and campefires at midnight were such fun. But that was mostly due to the fact that you got to spend such quality time with your favorite old neighbours.

Your fathers best university pal, and his wife only moved across the street when you were well into your high school career. But your dad was chuffed still to have his oldest friend one hop skip and jump away. Your mom was just as fond of the family, and soon you were sharing dinners and going to festivals and movies with them and their son, George.

When you met, you ignorantly assumed there was no way he wasn't a jock, or something equally as brain dead. No one with a face that pretty could possibly be smarter than a blade of grass.

But it wasn't long after they moved in, untill his parents asked you to show him around the school. And even though he was older and so vastly different from you, one morning, you found out George wasn't at all how you'd imagined. As you took him through the school halls, he went on and on about the theater program and marveled over your decently sized and poorly decorated library. He even thanked you for wasting your free break guiding him round to help him make sense of the schedule in his hands.

And after then, you had it bad. So that was precisely the reason you decided to steer clear. You gave small waves in the halls, and pretended not to scream internally when he sat next to you at lunch, every now and again. You went about your day pretending you were much more preoccupied with your other friends, and saved all your hopelessly romantic daydreams about George for your diary.

Until summer, of course. When you showed up to the cabin with your family and your siblings and some of their friends. George would be there, and you let yourself trail behind him like a puppy then. But he always asked for your company, really. He always dragged you to go swimming or to walk three miles to the nearest convenient shop for snacks. He'd sit next to you during rainy afternoon movie marathons and entertain all of your fireside ramblings.

But it had been three years since you'd spent a summer in the cabin. Your last time was the summer after you graduated. George's last time was two years prior, and nothing had quite been the same since.

///

You knew he wouldn't be there, this year. You should have been off, just as well, drinking till dawn or whatever else college kids wasted evenings doing.

His parents were there, though, and spent at least a minute each hugging you hello. After then, you trekked through the familiar home, up to the room you always claimed as your own, and you pretended not to feel dramatically sad. And for the next week, you sat around the fireside with your siblings, and laughed at their dumb jokes. You swam in the lake all alone. And you listened to George's parents yammer on about how proud they were of all his latest and most admirable achievements.

The last day of your visit, you sat alone in the sun room with a book, but only used it as a fan while you reminisced of all the times you'd sat doing the same before.

"I don't know why we come here when it's this hot." You sighed across the table full of left over breakfast food. Your family had migrated toward the back garden to play volleyball, but you couldn't be bothered trudging through the heat.

"I've always wanted to come in the autumn, watch the leaves change, make better use of all this firewood." You never did, because that's when school started and holidays were left to plan in for insufferable days like now.

George's mother was setting a pitcher of spiked punch on the table, something she made every year you'd been old enough to enjoy in her company.

"You know, it's so funny you say that." She grinned, shooting you a bright glance as she moved to pour you a drink.

"Our Geogre will be home this fall and he was asking about heading up to the cabin." She began. You used your book fan with a little more vigour.

"We, unfortunately, won't be able to make that happen of course, with his father's job and my plans of travelling before snowfall." She rambled, the ice in her drink clinking as she raised it to her lips. Your family's laughter rang muffled from beyond the glass wall of windows that made up the breakfast nook. And the heat, like a blanket over you. Like a pool you stayed trapped drowning in.

"You know- you kids should come here on your own! You're plenty old enough now to handle that responsibility and you always were such good friends. I bet Georgie would just love that." His mother's smile was audible in her tone and beaming from her face. You tried not to gawk at her, not to scrabble to sit straight. You casually lowered your leg from the arm of the chair and looked to the woman with a turn of your head.

"Oh I don't know, do ya think-"

"Yes, yes!" She interrupted with a furrowed brow like this was very serious. "I'm meant to call him later. I'll pass the idea along for you, love."

With a soft grin, her mind was made up. You shrugged, hoping it would make her believe you wouldn't be let down either way. But you'd never wanted anything more.

///

She got through to George, and apparently, according to his mother, he very excitedly accepted the plans. You weren't too sure that was entirely true, but you couldn't help but do a little happy dance behind the closed doors of your cabin bedroom. It was always as you left it, green quilt, matching rug, and the few framed albums you hung to make up for the bland wallpaper.

You left it, thrilled by the thought of returning in two months, and stayed glued to your phone till then. Geogre was meant to text you when the time crept nearer for your roughly made plans to become a little more organized.

You weren't sure what you were so excited for. He'd probably bring a girl, or a least mention one. There was no way he didn't have his pick of dozens vying for his attention. Still, the idea of spending a weekend in the cabin in such close quarters with your old crush was thrilling.

///

He texted you a month before you ended up planning to stay, and your exchange was jarringly short. George shot you a date and time. You agreed. Then he asked if you minded if a couple of his friends tagged along. And of course, you didn't. And that was that.

The summer dragged on, and at the first sign of autumn in the air you practically had all your bags packed.

When the time came, you gave your family quick goodbyes and arrived to the cabin a couple of hours early. The air was crisp, and the lake looked cold from your safe distance away. You breezed through the thin fog and smiled to yourself when you stepped into the place.

Everything was just how you'd left it. There were even still a few notes tapped to the refrigerator. You moved through the wooden structure and noticed how high the ceilings were for the first time in a while. And after washing a few sheets, and sorting out some of the food you'd brought for dinner, your solitude was interrupted.

There was a rattle at the door, and when it opened your heart stopped. He was here. George was all grown up. You hadn't seen him since the last time he came out here with the lot of you, the summer after he graduated. Years had passed, and now his hair was a little longer. He was a little leaner, a little taller, maybe. His nose was reddened by the cold but his smile was familiar. You tried not to gape at him and the way he seemed like an actual supermodel while he rested his bag by the door and looked to you, his grin growing wider.

"Hello, stranger." You smiled.

"Y/n!" He called with outstretched arms. You abandoned your place at the stove to accept his embrace and prayed he wouldn't be able to feel your quickened heartbeat.

"George." You beamed. Because he was your friend. At least, he had been once. His smile remained as he wrapped a strong arm around your middle and mumbled a hello right in your ear.

"Where are all your friends, then?" You cleared your throat, trying everything to keep your cool. Did he really have to speak so low in your ear? This weekend might prove to be incredibly awkward...

"Ah, yeah, one cancelled and the other might just as well. He said he'd keep me updated." George winced, running a hand across the back of his neck. "Hope you don't mind boring old me?"

"Of course not." You produced a chuckle. "I'm just making dinner."

And just like that, it felt like old times. George took over the kitchen for a bit, while you bickered over spices and seasonings. And in between stirring up an evening meal, George tucked his bags away in the room he'd always stayed in, and came back to help you set the table.

Conversation never lost its steady pace. George asked you about your budding life after highschool. He asked what you were doing for money and what you dreamed of doing for good. He laughed at some of your best stories and started to trade some of his own.

You'd always felt a bit intimidated by George, but worse now than ever before. He was musing about Hollywood and rambling about his life on movie sets. You nodded along, and watched George's pretty structured face light up as he spoke of his dreams and how some of them had come true.

When you'd finished dinner, your nerves really started up. Here the two of you were, all alone for the first time, maybe ever. There was always someone else near by in your knowing each other. Whether it be here, back home, or at school. You weren't sure how to handle all the empty space, so to occupy your time, you started a fire in the den. It was a cozy little room where everyone usually spent movie nights curled up on the small sofa. You liked to come here to read, when the sun shone brightly through the picture windows.

But it was dark now, and the fire was small. So you stuck nearby to help make it grow and wondered why you and Geogre were here. You wondered if his friend would ever show. You wondered if he'd ever really invited anyone at all.

"I brought beer, but there was some rum stashed away," George spoke himself into the room, holding a bottle and a glass in hand. He held each out to you, offering you take your pick. You picked the rum and thanked him for thinking you might've wanted a choice.

"I think I know you pretty well after all this time." George grinned, sitting on the floor in front of the fire. You were stood there, watching the flames flicker higher, and it took an internal debate for you to sit at his side. Were you making things weird or had they been weird on their own? Just moments ago you were mulling over how normal everything felt. Yeah, must'a just been you.

"I dunno," You huffed as you crossed your legs. "I've changed a lot since the days we used to tolerate each others company."

"Tolerate?" George chuckled. "We both know half our stays in this cabin were made most enjoyable by all the times we band together. We always had such fun."

"We did. Do you think we're too old now to have fun, this time around?" You asked, taking a sip of the rum he offered you. George stalled for a beat, like he was really considering the answer to your question. And then he looked at you and shook his head.

"I hope not." His lithe grin made your throat go dry. So you finished off your rum and stood for a refill. When you settled back in the den, George was halfway through his beer, and you got to talking about life again. He told you the scariest stories of his time away, and you reminisced about some of the traumas of life you and Geogre had been caught up in together when he was only one house away. George went for another beer, and you stayed watching the fire steadily burn.

He returned in silence and the quiet lingered for a long while, with both of you fixated not the flames.

"Remember when you said you'd let me stow away in your luggage when you left, so I could skip out on my physics finale?" You laughed into your drink. You felt George's eyes turn to search for your own, but you were still too deep in thought. "I failed that quiz, George. You were supposed to be my way out of this town."

"Hmm." George took a swig of his beer as you finished your second glass of rum. "Maybe that's why I've come back."

"That's rich." You chuckled and pointed a look to George. You couldn't hold back your nervous breaths of laughter now. Because he was watching you. His sea blue eyes seemed to search your face. You never recalled a time he looked at you with such undivided attention.

"What's so funny?" George rose a pale brow, taking another sip of beer. And as the answer formed on your lips, you blamed the rum entirely for your lack of critical thinking.

"I used to have the biggest crush on you." You admitted, turning a glance to George. His gaze had yet to break from your face, but you swore his smile grew ever so slightly. He furrowed his brow and shot you a sidelong look, like he didn't believe what you were saying.

"I did!" You laughed, the voice in your head reprimanding you for being so bold, as the words kept pouring out of your mouth. "You were my older, smoking hot neighbour boy. It was all very cliche but true." You shrugged. A blush burnt your cheeks and your mind suddenly caught up with your actions and you'd started to regret everything that had just transpired.

You mumbled a weary curse as you ducked your head away, hoping George wouldn't go on embarrassing you too much about this. You really hadn't planned to out yourself on the first night of your staying here with him. You hadn't planned to ever tell him that.

But George wasn't saying anything. He was just looking at you, like he had been. Like he was trying to figure you out. His eyes travelled from your face to search the reset of you. You watched George's gaze roam across your build while you tried not to combust in a self conscious worry. But the strange tension was too much not to break.

"What are you looking at me like that for?" You feared, hiding your bashful grin by lifting the nearly empty glass of rum to your lips.

"Because you're beautiful." George grinned, laughing a little like this was some big obvious fact.

"You're just tipsy." You shook your head, pointing to his empty bottle of beer and its half full replacement.

"No, you're just beautiful. You always have been." His tone grew more serious. You dared to catch his eye. The flames from a foot away were reflected in his gaze, and something else too. His eyes flicked away from yours to land on your lips. And his parted ever so slightly. If you hadn't dared to glimpse at his mouth, you wouldn't have noticed the way his jaw slacked.

His eye caught yours again and you realized he was moving closer. George was leaning in and your heart was beating a mile a minute and the fire seemed hotter than the dozen summers you'd wasted away here before.

His lips brushed yours before anything, and neither of you moved for a moment. His warm breath ghosted across your face and all your dreams seemed to suddenly come true as his mouth closed against yours.

Slowly, your lips started moving together. But they moved in perfect time, like they were made for it and waiting for this day to come true. George kissed you with a little more intent, as you kissed him back like you'd never get the chance to again. Because you had never once believed anything like this would happen with George. Maybe he was just tipsy. Or lonely. Or bored. You didn't care. You started to believe he had at least a little bit of actual interest in you, with the way he leaned closer and pressed his grip into your side. His tongue brushed against yours as his fingers started creeping closer to your chest. You wondered if he could feel your heart beating like a drum, and if his hand would ever reach its destination. You kissed him hard as encouragement, and he let out the sweetest whimper that would have made your eyes roll if they were open.

And then there was a knock at the door.

"Shit." You let out another nervous laugh, pulling away and catching your breath. You thought George's friends had all cancelled.

"I'm- I'm sorry." George shook his head, swiping hand at his lips and furrowing a brow at another knock on the door.

"Don't be?" You searched George's eyes for a moment and hoped he knew what you were asking. You hoped he watched as you hurried away. Had that really just happened? Had you just been bold enough to do the thing you'd wished of doing since sometime in high school? Was all the gentle passion in his kissing you back fueled by the drinks? Or had he really meant it?

The knocking kept on as you drifted closer. Geeze, for someone who wasn't sure about coming, they sure seemed excited to be here in the middle of the night. You adjusted yourself on the way to unlock the door, and tried not to blanch when you saw who was on the other side.

"Hi kids!" George's mother beamed, a bag in her arms. "My trip got cancelled and your folks weren't busy so we figured we'd come surprise you!"

The group of parents shuffled through the door. Your father toted a bottle of whiskey and your mother held a stack of films in her grasp. They each hugged you, and you scrambled to steady your tone.

"What a treat." You laughed through your teeth. The change in the pace of your evening could have given you whiplash.

"Oh, it's just like old times!" George's mother squealed, finding her son shuffling toward the kitchen to find what all the commotion was about.

"I suppose so." He grinned, accepting his mothers embrace and nodding as she explained that his father was too busy with work to crash the party. With all the tender sweetness you'd fallen for over the years, George said he understood but greeted his mother with kindness all the while. And as your parents rushed to pass hugs his way, George caught your eye. You wanted nothing more than to ask about the question in his gaze. But you feared your weekend with George wouldn't be as you'd once dreamed, like always.

///

You were glad to sit around the dying fire with your family. His mother's laugh was music to your ears. Your father's jokes had George doubled over with laughter. Your mother mused over and over about how glad she was for this surprise getaway.

And you couldn't be too upset, because you relished every moment you got to spend like this. Usually, this cabin was an escape, a place you could come without a care in the world. But now, there was a nagging little worry tumbling around your head, as everyone sat dragging the night on. Loose plans for the next day were made, talk of enjoying nature and making use of the big kitchen. You said something about sleeping in, because that was a rare occasion in your life these days. And here was a place where your wishes were supposed to be granted.

Your mother was the first to head to bed. The other adults decided to as well, but not before recruiting George to help clean up the kitchen neither of you had been very worried about taking total care of earlier in the evening.

You trudged up the stairs and took your turn in the shower, after wishing your mother a lovely night's sleep. She kept walking to the end of the hall, where she and your father enjoyed the best view just overtop of the forest of trees all around you.

While you washed up for the evening, your mind raced in every direction. What had just happened? And what was going to happen now? You'd been through all sorts of unexpected events with George, growing up. But never anything remotely close to... whatever this was. So far, this wasn't at all how you'd envisioned your long-awaited autumn visit in the countryside.

George's mother was soon making her way to bed too. She passed by as you opened the bathroom door and paused to give you a kiss on the cheek. You wished her goodnight and started your creep toward your own room. Before you could get there, George was walking with your father up the stairs, sharing chatter about a sports game from last year.

"Alright well, I'm off to clean up before bed." Your father noted, ruffling your hair on his way past. "Unless you need in here, George." Your father spun and pointed. There was another half bath downstairs, but the one on the second floor was the only one completed with a big shower and a separate tub.

"Ah, just holler when you're finished and I'll have a turn." George nodded as your father spun back toward the loo wishing you goodnight. You caught George's eye as you started back to your room, and prayed the creaking of the floorboard behind you were his footsteps and not just another one of your daydreams.

Sure, and strangely enough, a set of fingers curled around your wrist before you passed through your doorway.

"I believe we have some unfinished business." His voice muttered over your shoulder. Holy shit. How was this happening?

You didn't have time to waste questioning any longer. You only pulled George into the room you'd come to call your own, and shut the door with a gentle click that wouldn't cause any unwanted attention. No sooner than you had, George was on you.

His lips captured yours in a flash, like you'd been lost at sea and were only just being reunited. You threw your arms around his neck and barely held back a shocked giggle when George pulled you flush against him. You could have spent forever this way, in George's strong embrace, sharing the same breath.

He kissed you dizzy and spun you toward the wall. His hands found your chest at long last and he sighed against your mouth as you pulled him closer best you could. His hips pressed into yours and his hand trailed down your front, till his fingers stalled at the button of your sleep shorts.

"Can I?" He asked in a husky breath, looking right at you. You raised a brow, and gave him a nod, only just attempting to catch your breath. You could hardly believe it. But you'd never been more sure. George kept an eye on you for a beat, as you pressed your teeth to your lower lip. And when his hand started to move, you couldn't help but smile.

"Do you have any idea how badly I've always wanted to do this?" George asked, breathing in your ear as his hand disappeared below the fabric of your shorts. "For how long I've dreamed of having my way with you?" A shiver shot through you as he nipped at your neck. It was all very overwhelming. His word. His lips. His fingers, steadily starting to trace all the right places.

"Holy shit, George." You whined, gripping his shoulder for support from melting into a puddle on the floor.

"What? Am I doing alright?" He asked in a snide way, keeping his mouth pressed below your ear, and pressing his fingers against you with more vigour. Your breath caught at the feeling and George hummed happily against your throat. His fingers travelled further, deeper, till there was no place left for them to go. And when he set his digits into motion, you couldn't help but let out a noise, a small broken cry that tore George's focus from your neck right to you. His fingers stopped moving and his free hand reached your jaw. He held your face in his grasp and seemed to stall a question on his lips. Then with a breath, George asked,

"You're not gonna keep quiet are you?" At the same moment he'd decided your reaction, his fingers started moving again, and his hand that held your jaw moved to cover your mouth.

"Still try, darling, this cabin isn't very big you know?" George grinned, putting his fingers to good use. Your eyes rolled back, and tried as you might, another cry escaped your throat when George picked up his pace. His one hand stayed firm over your mouth as he worked you up and whispered sinful encouragement in your ear. When you could barely feel the floor under your feet, a noise came from the hall. A knock on a distant door.

You groaned as George stalled, and chuckled at your disappointment. His free hand slid down to your throat and his fingers gently curled around there as his eyes watched yours. From behind your door and down the way you heard your father.

"George! Showers free. And don't forget to see your alarm. We're still hiking at dawn!"

You could have cried, really, when you realized your night of fun was halted till further notice. George slipped his fingers from your shorts as you sucked in a breath and let it out like a sigh.

"Don't worry love," George cooed. "I plan on taking good care of you... eventually." The fingers he'd been using found their way to your mouth. You watched his pretty blue eyes flutter as you wrapped your lips and swirled your tongue around his knuckles. You swore he almost reconsidered his leave. But then George straightened and backed away with a clenched jaw and a smile on his lips.

"Get some rest. We're hiking in the morning!" He announced with a wink as he reached for the handle of your door.

"Oh, fuck you." You grinned, feeling empty and full of fire all at once.

"With any luck." George said, before shutting the door behind him.

///

"It's too high!" You worried, searching for a broad rock to step down onto. You and your family had found yourselves at the top of the trail that wound through the forest. But had decided to take a different route back down, around the lake.

"Here look, step there." George spoke up, from the bottom of the path that was broken up. He pointed to a patch of dirt you envisioned crumbling the moment you relied on it. Your mother tutted, and moved past you to take George's advice. Your lovely neighbour extended his hand to your mother who managed her way to safety with his help. Your father followed, helping George's mother, until you were the last one left.

They all stared up at you as you bit your nails and mulled over your game plan.

"Right- we're walkin' on. Get her off, George." Your father waved and turned to follow your mother and George's, who were already ahead gossiping about some tv show. You struggled to hide your blush as Geogre shifted his weight and grinned up to you.

"Do you trust me?" He asked.

"Obviously." You pointed. George reached out, and you held your breath, and stepped where everyone else had. George's hand was strong, but your prediction came true. As you balanced your weight on the patch of dirt, it began to give way. But George was there. He swept you away with ease and balanced you on both feet on the same level of ground as him.

"Did you just want me to save you all along?" George mused, keeping his arms snug around you as you stood.

"Come on." You bit back a smile and pushed George to lead the way, noticing your folks posed for a self at the opening of a man-made bridge.

You all walked on, till you spotted a weather-worn gazebo near the opening of the lake. The sun was unusually bright for the seasons, though a chill balanced in the air. Your gang stalled to rest in the small enclosure and laughed about the adventure you'd been on, and how none of you had ever realized this little nook was out here in all the years you'd been staying right around the bend.

George's mother was the first to head in, saying something about a midday nap. You didn't blame her. You all really had risen with the sun to enjoy the trails before a late lunch. Your mother was next to leave, mentioning just that. Her plans to make a big ridiculous afternoon meal that would likely count as some kind of dinner, too. Your father followed after her, paranoid about the trek from out of the woods alone.

George stayed and shot you a look as you watched everyone walk away, and turn around the lake. And for a moment, you just talked. Like how you always used too. About life and death and everything in between. All while each pause between topics grew long and heavy. Soon, you rose from the bench, tired of sitting, but excited to find yourself lingering out here in the sole company of the man you'd been dreaming of keeping all to yourself.

"Do you prefer it here in the summer, or now?" You wondered aloud, because you really wanted to know. The area you'd come to know so well seemed like a different world in the cold.

George followed your ambling, back down the skinny trail from where you'd just come. He waited to respond until he stepped to face you and stalled your meander.

"Now." George smiled, searching your eyes and pushing his nose against yours. The action made your heart flutter and your fists curl in the pockets of your jacket. Then he kissed you so tenderly, like you'd kissed thousands of times before and he was used to the sensation. You, however, were still dazzled by it. Your hands flew up and clung to the jacket he'd left unzipped. You kissed him back like this was your last chance to prove how badly you'd always wanted too. At your fervour, George snaked his arms around you. One of his hands tangled in your hair as his other trailed to your backside.

You had no excuse to hold back your pleased sighs, as George pressed against you, digging his fingers into your thigh and pulling it nearer to his hip. Your own hands started to wander, right between his legs. George let out a groan as you pressed your palm against his tight jeans, and you thought of doing it again just to hear his reaction. But you had something better in mind.

You broke your kiss and grabbed both of George's hands. He watched as you dragged him a little deeper into the green, and fell against a wide tree when you pushed his toward it.

When you started to fiddle with his belt buckle and bend your knees, George flushed and gapped at you.

"Here?" He asked with a nervous grin, looking much more innocent and shy than he'd appeared last night. Maybe ever.

"Would you rather trade bakewell recipes, George?" You asked with a snicker, sitting back against your heels and peering up to him. "We really don't have to, though." You spoke again with a serious nod, making sure he knew you really didn't want to do anything he didn't want to. But damn, you really wanted this.

"I'd really like if we did." George swallowed, and your grin stretched back to life. "I was just surprised is all."

"Why? Don't you think I'd like to show you as good a time as you started to show me last night?" You unzipped his trousers and kept your gaze fixed to George.

"I promise to make it up to you." He breathed as you started to pull at his boxers.

"You already are." You assured, just before the time for talk had ceased. Your mouth had better things to do.

When George lost his fingers in your hair, and tugged, you were motivated to deepen your interaction. Then you got to hear the way George whined and hissed and cursed your name under his breath. Even if you could reach your free hand to his lips, you couldn't dream of keeping George quiet. His sounds were the sweetest encouragement you'd ever known.

You stayed on your knees until your efforts paid off. Then you helped George pull his trousers back in shape as you rose to meet him, and were pleasantly surprised when he grabbed your face and kissed you. But when his hand started to trail below your waste you broke your kiss and shook your head.

"We don't have time." You sighed, brushing back some of George's unkempt blonde waves.

"But-" His perfect pale brows furrowed and his thumb brushed your cheek.

"It's okay. We'd better get going." You nodded. George nodded too, but then stole another quick kiss. It made you wonder what this was about. It made you wonder what George thought of you, and what he thought of you with him. You didn't let yourself wonder long. The sky was starting to darken with clouds. So you brushed the dirt from your knees and let George lead the way back to the cabin, biting back your broad grin every time he turned to make sure you were close behind.

///

The next morning was spent lazing about the breakfast table as a drizzle locked you all in. Your parents were each still in the kitchen, arguing over cinnamon rolls and other breakfast treats.

"I always wanted to come here to watch the leaves change." You piped up, setting a steaming coffee mug to the side, with your gaze stuck out the rain covered window. George sat by your side, with his head in the crook of his elbow on the table.

"We must have come too early in the year." You sighed, searching for a glimpse of orange or yellow in the distance. All you saw was brown and green against a dull grey sky.

"Well," George spoke up, quietly so. You lowered your eyes to find his, and fixated on his small grin. "That just means we'll have to come back."

"Yeah?" You hesitated to ask. What had he meant? Why had he said so? George only rested his hand on your thigh below the table, tracing patterns on your knee with his thumb. You kept your gaze on him and realized you had fallen hard and fast.

You'd always had it bad for George, but with all this new and very exciting attention he'd been giving you, it was game over. You'd thought of nothing but George each night you fell asleep one room over. Your heart practically leapt out of your rib cage every time you caught his eye across the room, since the beginning of the weekend.

But you didn't understand it. Neither of you talked about what you'd done or mentioned doing anything quite like it again. You just waited up in empty halls and hoped he'd come around the corner in the least suspicious amount of time possible.

But today was hard. Today you couldn't sneak out in the woods, or around the corner. You were trapped in by rain, and if you and George snuck behind closed doors there wouldn't be a question as to why, and that would be utterly embarrassing.

So you sat across from George as your father rallied everyone around an old tattered board game. You caught George's eye as your parents bickered over game rule, and wondered what he was thinking as his pretty blue gaze locked on yours.

When you followed your mother's instructions to go and find a stack of movies in her room, George's mother shuffled off to go make snacks. So your favourite pretty blonde said something about taking a shower, and followed as you trekked up the stairs. But no sooner than you found the stack of movies, and George lingered outside of the bathroom did your father spin into the hall in search of his glasses.

You and George only got to share a look before he shut the bathroom door, and your father recruited you to help in his hunt.

As you all curled up for a movie marathon, Geogre helped you pour everyone a drink. While he reached for a set of glasses, he sneaked past you with one hand grazing your lower back for as long as he could get away with.

And when your parents took residence on the love seat and his mother kicked back in the chair, you and George were left to make the floor comfortable. You dumped all the extra blankets in front of the coffee table and sat a few inches away from George while some romcom played on. It was almost painful, how close he was without being able to reach out. What a strange turn of events.

His mother fell fast asleep by the second film, and your parent's dozed off by the third.

And as the last film played on, you felt George's hand creeping closer to yours. His fingers fit between your own, and his thumb brushed against your knuckles every now and again, as you sat holding hands.

You hadn't really seen that coming. You hadn't known what to expect of this whole thing with George, but an innocent lasting touch wasn't it. All the questions you'd always wondered were louder and scarier as the movie dragged on.

And when it was over, George walked you up the stairs. You kept quiet as not to wake your parents, and watched as he moved in the dark. When he stalled in the doorway of your room, you gazed up to him with a pushed in brow. Then he kissed you. Just a gentle, lingering peck. He left you in your doorway with that, and you stayed up staring at your ceiling wondering why.

///

Your parents left the next morning. They hadn't planned too. But your father got a call from work and since they'd all arrived as a group they decided to leave that way. You had awoken early and found yourself staring at the pages of a book when your mother bustled down the stairs to let you know.

"We'll see you kids at the start of the week!" George's mother waved on her way out of the door. She hoped you'd both enjoy the last day of the weekend in the cozy little place you'd always come back to.

Your parents scrambled to pack their things and followed her out of the door in a dazed rush, rambling about how they wished they didn't have to leave as they headed to the door.

Just like that the cabin was quiet, more so than you'd ever noticed, even when you'd been the only one creeping through the halls. You had no idea what to expect. You didn't want to get your hopes up. And you didn't want to make this already strange situation even weirder. So you took to doing the dishes at the sound of your parents peeling out of the gravel drive. You scrubbed every plate and focused on every soap bubble to stall time as you thought up what to say.

One of you had to say something, right?

When the staircase finally creaked, you'd finished the leftover dishes and were nearly done sorting the last of them away. George stretched into the room, looking around to realize the cabin was missing your surprise guests.

"Dad got called into work. You just missed telling everyone goodbye." You shrugged, meeting George's eye for a moment before you spun to put the last dish away. You listened as he softly floated toward the space you occupied yourself.

"So I finally get you all to myself then?" George seemed to really ask. He looked tired, still. But there was a gentle smile on his face, some kind of hopeful glaze painted over his features. George reached out to you, both of his hands softly holding your face. He peered at you, searching your features as his thumb traced your bottom lip.

"You really wanna spend the rest of this weekend with me?" You wondered, ducking your head as a twinge of fear started to take hold. But Geogre straightened your gaze once more, he made you look at him as he chose his words.

"I'd like to spend much longer than just this weekend with you," He spoke gently like every word was precious. You couldn't possibly think of what to say. You could only smile. You grinned without holding back and watched as George shut his eyes and kissed you.

You kissed him back and decided the pouring rain was cause enough to start a fire. George trailed behind you on your mission to throw a few logs in the fireplace. When you turned from sparking a flame, you watched George settle onto the floor that was still a mess with blankets and pillows from last night's movie marathon. He reached up to you, fingers moving from their latch on your wrist to press into your sides as he pulled you right into his lap.

Just like that his arms were around you and his mouth opened against yours. The fire was nice, but the warmth coming from George was heavenly. You moved your kisses to his neck, relishing the way his pulse beat under your touch. You trailed your lips back across his jaw until you were kissing him again, and dissolving in his strong hold.

You held his face in your hands as your mouths moved together, and only released your grasp to raise your hands over your head as George lifted your sweater up and away. His kisses trailed across your exposed skin, to the swell of your breasts, while his fingers managed to unclasp your bra. With your knees on either side of his hips, you rocked against George, feeling more desperate for his touch than ever.

"Are you sad your friends ditch you?" You asked in a breath with a smile and George was busy pressing his tongue to your skin. You felt him smile, and the warmth of a chuckle escape him.

"Are you glad our parents came and ruined our chances of spending the whole weekend this way?" George shot back, as you pulled his shirt away. You rolled your eyes and pushed George back against a stack of pillows, reaching for his belt. You laughed as he kicked his trousers away and pulled you down for a kiss, like he couldn't fathom parting from you for a second.

You spent a while wrapped up in his tangled limbs- kissing him, trailing your fingers against his burning skin, rocking against each other while the last of your layers kept you from doing what you really wanted.

"You know, I always had a crush on you, too." George propped himself up on both elbows as you'd started to pull his boxers away. You paused your mission for a moment to look at him. His half-lidded gaze and the mess of his hair. The marks starting to darken on near his throat, from you. He was more beautiful each new time you caught a glimpse, it seemed.

"Sentiment not required, but appreciated." You grinned as George sat up, free of the last of his clothes, reaching to free you of your own with his sea blue eyes on yours all the while.

"I did." He rose a brow, and something about his confirming so made your heartache, as it already beat like a drum. You brushed back his tousled waves and searched George's face for approval. He blinked up at you, totally enraptured. You could have stayed in this paused state forever and you swore he might have been content, too. But you couldn't wait any longer. You'd waited long enough.

When you lowered yourself into George's lap, you watched his eyes close and his jaw slack. A sigh escaped his lips, like he was totally relieved. And not just by the pressure you'd both felt now, but by the build-up of this whole weekend. Like something from very deep within him was finally settled. You might have laughed a little at that state of him if you weren't feeling the same. You'd never felt so safe. A strange word for a time like now, but the only word that seemed to fit.

Neither of you moved for a while. At first, you'd focused on settling into the feeling. Then you became totally distracted, brushing back George's hair and peppering his face with kisses. His hands stayed loose around your sides and his nose nudged your own in a way that made your heart sing.

"As much as I love this, I really would like if you moved a little, dove." George cooed in your ear and kneaded his fingers into your hips hoping you'd get the hint.

So you did what he said, and rolled against him. George kept his grip firm as he let out one of those melodious groans of his. You picked up the pace then, not daring to hold back your own hums as George's eyes opened to find yours.

You shared another kiss as you found your rhythm, but couldn't keep it up for long. Your lips parted but lingered close to his when you couldn't hold back a broken cry.

George wrapped an arm around your middle and moved swiftly to lay you down. You watched as he loomed over you and searched your features like he did the first night here. You were in the same place as you had been when you confessed your stupid crush. And you were in the same spot you had been when he kissed you for the first time. And when he closed the distance between you once more, it felt better than ever.

You pressed your heels into his back and tried to tell him how fucking great he was at this, but incoherent mumbles were all you could manage.

"That good, huh?" George strained, barely getting the words out himself. But the little laugh that followed his statement seemed easy and sweet. As if you weren't feeling enough, your heart threatened to burst. Everything felt near bursting, actually.

"It's okay, baby." His saccharine voice rang in your ear as he somehow pushed you deeper into the mess of blankets. "It's just you and me now, and you feel so fucking good. You can let go now, love. I wanna feel you to let go."

He could have kept up talking that way and you'd fall to pieces in no time. But when his hand travelled below your stomach you nearly k.o'ed. Between the things he spoke just to you, the way he paused talking to curse a little, and the rhythm of his hips against yours, it didn't take long until you came undone. He kept you pinned in place until you nearly couldn't see straight until it seemed he couldn't either. When it was all said and done, neither of you moved for a moment. You were less irked by the fact you could have been doing that all weekend, and more moonstruck by the reality that it'd happened at all.

///

It wasn't long before you decided to get cleaned up, but it took awhile to get to the bathroom. George stopped you in the hallway to do everything over again, somehow better than the first time. He stopped you from finding clean clothes to pin you to the bed you'd called your own. You tangled your fingers in his hair as he made his way between your thighs, and made you forget all about doing anything else for the rest of the evening.

And when you finally made it to the bathroom, he followed you into the warm bath. But there, you only relaxed. The water soothed your aching muscles, and the whiskey your dad left behind was passed over the bubbles as you and George sat together till the water grew cold. You talked as you cleaned yourself up, about things you'd always talked about before. You watched as George changed into a pair of joggers you recognized from days gone by. You let him wrap you up in a towel and hold you close in the steam-filled bathroom, and you decided it was paradise.

Your night went on like normal. Like most nights had, in the cabin. You made dinner, and joked about the time your siblings nearly burnt the place down making cookies during a heatwave. And after you ate, you left the dishes for another day, like always. Then you followed George to the den, and watched as he turned the telly on to some slasher marathon. Your autumn dreams were alive and well, as you curled up on the sofa at his side.

You stayed happily tucked against him, one arm and leg across his frame. One of his strong arms nearly pulled you on top of him in an effort to cuddle close as possible. You nuzzled your face into his neck when something especially upsetting flashed across the screen. And eventually, the comfort of his secure hand splayed across your head, and his other arm holding you firmly in place, sent you into the most peaceful sleep you must have ever slipped into.

///

"Wake up, love."

Your eyes were heavy, and your limbs ached. The blankets felt so warm in the morning cold, and George's breath tickled your ear.

"My darling, wake up." He said again, tracing a finger along your jaw as your eyes fluttered open.

"M'up." You sighed, focusing on George's pretty face, his brilliant blue eyes and the easy smile on his full lips. You realized he wasn't curled close, but kneeling at your side like he'd been up for a while now.

"Come and see." His smile widened as he grabbed your hand and tugged you to stand. You pushed in your brows and only sat up so quickly because of George's unusual excitement. He kept your hand in his and dragged you across the room to the fog tinted windows. What time was it? George moved you to the clearest view, and snaked his arms around your middle from behind.

You rubbed your eyes and looked. And past the mist, you saw the trees. Among the usual green and grey, you saw spots of dark red and orange starting to appear. The further you looked the more colours you noticed, and then you realized George had noticed before you.

"Now we know." He mumbled in your ear, as you tore your gaze from the stunning view to look over your shoulder. George really did get prettier with every glance. And now you knew, indeed. You knew how he felt, and you knew you'd get to go home with him as more than neighbours. You knew the perfect time to come back to this cabin, too, when the colours were brightest and the fire's warmth would be most coveted. And you knew George would come back with you. The only thing you weren't sure of was which room you'd stay in together, in all the years to come.

───※ ·❆· ※───

#george mackay #george mackay fanfic #george mackay imagine #george mackay x reader

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bi-bard · 1 year

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Y'all...

I watched I Came By on Netflix.

Looks like I have a new man to rip to absolute shreds.

#i came by #i came by netflix #netflix #george mackay #film #imagine #fanfiction #x reader

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george-mackay-macfine · 3 years

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Sprained

REQUEST: YES / NO

Synopsis: George helps Y/N after she twists and sprains her ankle.

Word count: 500

A/N - Sorry this is so short, I hope everyone has been well however, and they’re ready to jump back into George fics with me.

“Easy,” George cooed as we walked into the living room… Well, George was walking, I was hobbling. “Easy, love.”

“Jesus,” I hissed as I put the tiniest amount of too much pressure on my ankle. “Oh, ow, ow…” I cried clinging to George’s shirt. “It really hurts,” I whimpered, hoping George would pity me and carry me the rest of the way to our plush lounge.

“Almost there,” No chance of being carried, I see. “This is why I told you to be careful,”

“I was being careful,” I defended myself, the couch within reach, “To an extent,” I added as I let my body fall face first into the soft material. The ache in my right ankle becoming less aggravated by the seconds I was off it.

“Not a great extent, you shouldn’t have tried to chase so many dogs,” A hot red flush covered my cheeks. “Especially with how little balance and coordination you possess,”

“I get it,” I muffled into the material. I stuck my head up, arms ridged by my side. “I’m a clutz,” I rolled onto my side, lifting my ankle towards George who was quick to untie and pull the shoe off, his hands gently placing it back on the sofa.

“It was adorable though,” he muttered as he picked up my uninjured ankle. “The way you get so excited over dogs,”

“That’s because I want a dog so bad,” I pouted up at him.

“Honey, we’ve spoken about this, now isn’t the right time”

“I know,” I frowned, pulling my legs up beneath me, flinching as I twisted at an uncomfortable angle. “But I love them,” George sat at the other end of the couch. “Are you really going to deny an injured girl her last wish?”

“It’ll hardly be your last wish,” He rolled his eyes grabbing the ankle i’d hurt and laying it over his lap beginning to massage the tender skin. “But maybe we can look at short term fosters while I’m not on set, until we can get one,” My lips pulled apart as my cheeks pulled into a wild smile.

“You mean that?” I sat up, ignoring the pain in my ankle. “No joke?”

“No joke, baby.” George laughed. I shook my head thinking for a second before I launched at him. My hands wrapping around him.

“Thank you, thank you,” I mumbled against his lips. “Ow,” I added as my foot twisted. “Ow”

“Alright you, I know you’re excited about the idea of a dog, but you need to stop moving, we need to get this ankle better before we even think about a dog.” He gently pushed me back down on the couch. “You stay here, I’m going to go get you a tea, and an ice pack for that foot. Keep it elevated.” He said lifting my foot off my lap and placing it on a pillow before standing up and walking towards our kitchen.

#george mackay #GeorgeMackay #george mackay fanfic #george mackay imagine #george mackay x reader #GeorgeMacKayImagine

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heartbreakgrill · 3 years

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Bless You; George Mackay

description: in which you ruin a romantic moment

a/n: no one asked for this yet I delivered

Your fingers curled beneath your cheek, most likely imprinting red marks from the gravity pressing down on your head. It was cold, but not uncomfortably so. The blankets were tucked right up to your shoulder, a warm air encasing your bodies together enough to fight off the cold. The air smelled of the plug-in Christmas scent you swore by from Bath and Body Works, which matched well with the wreath above your bed and the various other decoration that glittered in the early morning sun.

George lay parallel to you, his left bicep curled from creating a pocket for his golden-curled mop head to rest. His other hand, chilly and soft, gleamed over the skin of your bare shoulder. You balanced each other, with your warm skin and his cold hands. And those hands were the reason goosebumps crawled up your neck.

Your eyes struggled to stay open, exhausted from staying up until 3 am drinking champagne with George. The empty glasses were evidence on his side of the bed. You weren’t hungover, thanks to the empty roll of cookie dough and bag of potato chips splayed on the other bedside table.

But you forced them to focus, forced them to take in the beautiful blue staring back at you. George blinked harshly, watery from the unspoken staring contest you were having. It was a peaceful admiration, breath fanning out in waves across your face, your heart feeling like it was swelling from the gorgeous man staring at you with deep love.

Suddenly, your nose began tickling, and it crinkled. Your head jerked back, your eyes shut, and you quickly moved your head into your forearm. George laughed loudly as you sneezed. You sighed before flipping onto your stomach, groaning into the pillow.

“That was nice and peaceful and I ruined it!” You giggled as George pulled you into his chest, kissing your neck with a force that made your chest butterfly.

He tangled his limbs with yours and entwined his fingers over your cheeks, “Bless you, darling.”

Your foreheads pressed each other, she’s gazing again at a more intimate level. You scrunched yourself nose and said, “Thank you.”

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #george Mackay #george Mackay x y/n

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jellyfishbeansontoast · 3 years

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Close to you

Gonna be honest I don't really like this one, it didn't take me long to write but I was running out of ideas but I'm gonna spend longer on the next one which is stargazing with George. Based off of this picture

George had invited you to stay with him in London, you’d been dating for a while but you hadn’t been able to spend a lot of time together with George being busy with Dean doing press for his new film 1917. You were proud of him but you couldn’t help but be a little sad with the lack of time you two had had to spend together.

Lounging on the sofa with the first show that came up on TV you waited for George to come home. You hadn’t seen him at all since he woke you up at an ungodly time in the morning to say goodbye and that he’d try to get out early. You’d made George promise that no matter how early it was he had to leave that he’d wake you up to say goodbye.

You’d been cold for a while. You weren’t sure where George kept things yet and you didn’t even know how to turn the heating on. You pulled yourself upright, drawing your legs into your chest trying to stay as warm as possible. The cold English air wasn’t helping and you stood up to shut the window that you’d forgotten was open.

Hearing the lock click and the front door squeak open you looked over to the doorway. A grin appeared on your face when you realised who it was. True to his promise George had managed to find a way to get out of his interview early.

He saw you shivering and laughed. Kicking off his shoes he walked towards you, pulling off his jumper as he walked. Once he reached you he slid it over your head and chuckled when your head popped out, your hair now frizzy and messy.

“You could’ve sent me a text and I would have told you where the blankets are.”

“I prefer this option better,” You said, snuggling into the fabric, inhaling the scent of him “but wont you get cold now?”

He shook his head, dragging you over to the sofa and pulling you into his side “Not when I have you next to me”

You rolled your eyes and buried your head in his shoulder “stop being so cheesy” you laughed, your voice muffled against his skin. He only wrapped his arms around you tighter, flicking through the channels on the TV. He settled on an old romantic film before kissing the top of your head and turning his attention to the film.

Taglist: @crxstalreeds @sortagaysortahigh

#george mackay x reader #george mackay #george mackay x you

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pennylanefics · 4 years

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Reunited - Will Schofield

a/n: lol so i had a dream about reuniting with will after the war, jumping into his arms and just being with him after so long. so i had to write it. not exactly the best, but my dream was really short 😂

•••

Will had been gone for the longest time, fighting in the war, leaving you a nervous wreck every single minute of every single day. He was sending you letters, so you knew he was okay, but the thought that anything could happen at any moment was killing you.

At one point, he stopped sending them. You wanted to know what was happening, if he was being moved, or if he just ran out of supplies, or worse, if he was killed. Being left in the dark about things was awful.

But thankfully, they started again. He told you of the fateful day of April Sixth, and how his good friend had died in his arms. You wanted to hold Will in your arms more than anything, comfort him, tell him things will get better and that his friend’s memory will live in. But he was in another country.

Months go by and Will is still serving. His letters eventually start to fan out. You receive them every now and then, but they’re not as frequent as they used to be. They also grow shorter in detail. He doesn’t say much about his days anymore, he just says that he’s doing well and things are starting to lighten up.

Finally, in November of 1918, the war ended. The papers were reporting that all soldiers are to be sent home as soon as possible, and that meant you were going to be seeing Will soon. You couldn’t stop smiling at the thought. Though you knew he wouldn’t be the same.

“Are you happy to see him again?” His mother asks you as you stand together at the train station. There aren't a lot of people there thankfully, so you weren’t too crowded and overwhelmed.

“Yeah. I just want to be in his arms and know that he’s safe and with us.”

“It’ll be nice to have him back. Are you going to stay with us for the week?”

“I was planning on it, if you’re still okay with it.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” You shrug and look down at your shoes.

“The idea of you wanting to spend time with your son after so long.”

“Nonsense. You’re his girlfriend, you miss him just as much, and you deserve to spend time with him just as much as I do.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Schofield.”

“Ethel, sweetheart.” You smile, nodding your head in response.

“Sorry. It feels unusual to call you that.”

“You’re basically family, darling.”

The train rolls in about ten minutes later and you begin to shake with nerves. Ethel rubs your arms excitedly and you watch the door of the train open and soldiers begin to file out. You count fifteen people getting off and no sign of George yet.

After five more people, he appears. Your boyfriend was here. He looked very different. His hair was longer, he aged well, he looked stronger and built. It was like looking at a stranger.

Will stopped in his tracks after taking a few steps, meeting your eyes. The train started back up and moved forward, meaning he was the last off the train. You couldn’t move, you were too focused on taking his figure in.

“Go on, (Y/N),” Ethel ushers you forward a little. You break your gaze with Will and look to her, handing her your handbag before slowly walking towards Will. Though about a couple steps in, you can’t wait any longer and break out in a run. He smiles widely and opens his arms and within seconds, you are in his grip, feeling his touch all over your body.

He holds you tightly against him, spinning you around magically, like you two were the only two people on the platform. Even after he stops spinning, you stay put in his arms, not wanting to be away from him for one second.

“William,” you whimper, feeling the tears fall from your eyes. He chuckles quietly through his own tears, nuzzling his face further into your neck.

“(Y/N). I missed you so much.”

“I missed you, too.” His hands rub your back up and down, holding you even closer.

“I missed you,” he whispers again. More tears fall down your cheeks as you finally pull away to look at him up close. He smiles and wipes your tears away with his thumbs.

“You changed,” you tell him softly.

“I wish I could say the same about you, but you’re still as beautiful as I remember.” You can’t help but blush at the comment.

“Still as cheeky as I remember.” He giggles and cups your cheeks to bring you in for a deep kiss. A quiet hum bubbles in your throat at the feeling, your body melting into his touch.

“Mhm, your mum is back there,” you whisper after pulling away for a moment.

“I know.”

“You should go see her. She’s been wanting to see you.”

“But i want to keep kissing you,” he whines. You can’t help but laugh and kiss him once more.

“We have the rest of the night together. I’m going to be staying with you for a week. We can spend time together after your mum goes to bed.”

“Fine. But I’m not going to stop kissing you once that time comes.” Your hands hold his and you smirk up at him.

“I’m keeping you to that promise.”

#will schofield #will schofield imagines #will schofield x reader #george mackay #george mackay x reader #william schofield #1917 #imagines #fanfiction #fanfic

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royalbluehues · 4 years

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Healing

Title: Healing

Author: royalbluehues

Warnings: PTSD. Nothing graphic, though.

Pairings: William Schofield x Reader

Request: Thanks! May I request a story where Schofield is another man after the war and reader wants her hubby back? He has nightmares, he never wants to go out, he barely talks to the reader. She understands that he will never be the same man after what he went through, but she wants at least a bit of her husband back. She doesn't know what to do to help him, but she will fight for their marriage.

Author’s Note: The story treks off the path of the request just a tad. I always end up making my stories fluffy without intending to. (Image found on Pinterest)

You had known it the minute he stepped off the train’s platform.

His shoulders were slumped and his eyes had a far away look to them. When he had brought you close to embrace you tightly, he had nuzzled his face within the crook of your neck and stayed there.

His body was taught and stiff.

Deep down within you, a small feeling poked at you, Something’s wrong.

But you pushed that thought to the side, rather selfishly relishing the fact you finally, after nearly three years apart from him, you finally had your husband in your arms once more.

And God willing he will stay there, you prayed silently.

You raised one of your hands to tangle his locks around your fingers, squeezing your eyes tightly, “William,” you breathed out, savoring the way his name tasted on your tongue, then peppering whatever visible part of his face that was not tucked away into your neck.

Your heart was blooming with a mixture of gratitude, relief, happiness, and bereavement to the time that was pitilessly ripped from you and your daughters.

He was filthy, despite his obvious attempts at a decorum of cleanliness. But his hair was matted, his uniform tattered, ripped, and stained with dark splotches in several places.

You sided with your better judgment and not allow your mind to wander to what those splotches were.

He finally lifted his head from his embrace, moving to lean back and look at you. His lips pulled upward into a lopsided smile.

But you see it there: his large eyes betray his effort of solidity. Quickly as it comes, it goes. And before your mind could analyze it, he pulls you into a kiss.

His lips feel soft, despite the skin being cracked. The calloused fingers grasping either side of your face are cold to the touch, his grip tight yet tender. You melt effortlessly into him, feeling the tension you’ve held in your shoulders, amounting since the moment he received his notice of deployment, give ease.

When he releases you, you notice the tears that have swarmed in not only your eyes but in his as well.

“I’ve missed you.”

Once again, you’re flooded with a thousand emotions. Those three words have left you winded. They’re drowning you, pulling you so far beneath its current you’re left with the largest knot in your throat, threatening to release the moment you open your mouth to reply to him.

It’s his words that have compacted so many meanings unspoken.

Your tongue has turned leaden, your mouth is clenched shut, and the knot in your throat is only forming and growing every second that is passed.

All you can do is stare up at him pathetically, eyes wide and brimming with tears that wait to fall.

I love you. I’m so sorry. I want you. I feared for you. I feared for myself. I’ve missed you. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Your heart feels full and empty all at once, and you tremble as his hands softly stroke away the wisps of hair that have fallen from your coiffed hair.

When you open your mouth to breath, to finally repay the sentiment, your lungs betray you as they rack in a sob.

He pulls you back into an embrace, only this time it’s you that is being hid away from the onlooking world, gasping for breath as your tears wet the lapels of his uniform.

You feel him press his lips to the crown of your head.

“I know,” He tells you thickly.

---

It’s early morning as Will sits by the window of this home. He hadn’t been able to sleep, and rather than thrashing about in your shared bed, he figured it wise to detach himself lest he wake you for the third consecutive night that week.

The heat emitting from the teacup clasped in his hands scalded his skin, but he chose to ignore it. The burning grounded him. Reminded him of where he was and where he wasn’t.

He tiredly exhales a deep sigh, leaning his head against the crown molding of the window. He feels almost guilty for not staying in bed, remembering the constant visualizations of a warm bed- of your body warmly pressed into his side, the welcoming sound of a pair of bare feet that patter softly against the floor- all of which he painted to keep him sane in the trenches.

But now that he had it after wanting it for so long, he always returned back to France, even when he tried to suppress it.

It would be small things that would set off the memories: The sound of the leaves billowing from the wind, the clanging of a fork against a tin can, the smell of upturned soil, just to name a few.

It was silly, he thought more often than not, of how different he was now.

Though he was still William Schofeild, he really wasn’t. It was a notion he had to accept the first week he returned home to you and the girls.

But he tried, by God, did he try.

Whenever it would be set for judgement day to come, William Schofeild knew that he would be judged for what he did not do and what he did. But one thing that would serve him with certainty, was that he tried.

He tries to uphold the station that he situated before he left. The role of a good father and a good husband. Not showing the cracks that were undoubtedly unfixable. Attempting to get back into the swing of things.

Though he knew that his false bravado hardly went unnoticed by you. He would feel your suspecting gaze when he was teetering on reliving events as he stared off blankly into the space ahead of him, when he would leave his food untouched or his tea forgotten. He knew you had a hunch of what was happening when his daughters sat on his lap as they begged him to tell stories.

“Girls,” you would scold them, emerging from the kitchen as you wiped your hands on your apron, “you know better than to be asking your father such things he wishes not to discuss.”

He would give a tight smile in response, “Nothing to worry about, Darling,” he’d say as he pressed a kiss on either girl’s head, “Perhaps I’ll do you one better, girls: I’ll read you a story with princesses and about great castles. Far better than hearing about daddy’s stories. I’ve no fairies or knights in mine.”

They would beam up at him, slipping off his lap as they ran back to their nursery to play with their dolls.

He knew you knew when he would simply pick his book up once more, staring at the page he attempted to read for the nearly two hours- how you would hover by the entryway of the kitchen and observe him before disappearing to finish up the roast.

He knew you knew because as he sat there, sitting and observing the outside world through the window, the heat prickling his skin, he could feel your presence in the room.

He watched as a bird flew by, situating itself on the small tree only feet away from the gate.

You moved quietly, settling into the parlor chair by his.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” he tells you quietly as he turns to face you. You have a shawl over your shoulders, and sleep still evident in your eyes, and one hand atop your rounded belly.

You don’t meet his eyes, rather fixing your gaze on the same bird fluttering about.

“You didn’t wake me.” You reply just as quietly, pulling the shawl tighter around you with your left hand, “The baby was kicking again.”

Will gives you a small smile, eyes glancing down at your bump, “A rowdy one, he’ll be.”

He outstretches his arm to pass you his tea, and you accept, bringing it to your lips as you take a sip to fight away the chill lingering in the early morning.

You hand it back to him, and the two of you so, passing the tea cup back and forth for the next minutes in comfortable silence.

Finally, you speak.

“William, I’m worried for you.”

It hangs in the air, and causes Will to shift uncomfortably in his chair as his right pointer finger plays with the handle of the tea cup.

You fill the silence once more, turning to him now. “There’s something that’s wrong.”

His eyebrows furrow and his lips pull into a frown. Instead of replying he gulps down the remainder of the tea and sets it atop the window sill.

“I know you do not wish to speak on it. And I apologize for bringing it up so early in the morning, but I’d rather it not be in front of the girls,” you spoke slowly, your right hand still grazing your stomach as a nervous habit.

Will sighs deeply once more. This conversation was bound to be brought up eventually.

He hangs his head, crossing his arms, trying to think of the correct words to say.

“I can hardly imagine what you saw or what you went through, and I’m grateful for the ignorance that permits me to do so. But seeing you in these states,” you trail off, feeling the familiar knot take place within your throat, “it pains me because I do not know how to help you.”

You take in a shuddering breath, biting your tongue as you cast your gaze on the floor. “I wished so many times to take you away from there. To bring you back home where nothing could harm you. I would have given anything to ensure you were safe.”

William shakes his head, lifts it and turns to look at you. “You already help me. Just by being here, by my side.”

You wipe away at a tear that had escaped, knowing fully it was a pretty fib to make you feel better. “Don’t lie to me, William. I see it in your eyes.”

He gives you a small smile again that doesn’t reach his eyes, “Of course you do. I suppose that’s the price of marrying an observant woman.”

“And as an observant wife, it’s my duty to point upon when I think something’s wrong,” you murmur quickly, quietly. You're terrified to find him angered, so you shift your gaze to avoid his eyes. “I made a vow to you four years ago: to be by your side for better, for worse, for richer or for poorer,” you pause before finally mustering up the courage to face your husband, “and in sickness and in health.”

William’s gaze is on the teacup that he set aside, his large eyes saddened and reserved. He frowns, slowly rises from his chair, kneels before you and claps your hand in his. He moves to press his lips on the knuckle of your thumb, “I’m sorry I do not speak to you about it. About what happened.” He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes tightly, voice cracking.

“I haven’t been fair to you,” He admits to you, “and I’m deeply sorry for that.”

You shake your head, a bit exasperated at how you jumbled your own words, in turn making him feel he was at fault, “No, my Darling. No, please do not take it that way. What I meant is that though it’s not my place to pry personal information you do not wish to tell, it is my place to point something that I see taking a toll on you.” You lift his hand so you can kiss them, “I-I just want you to feel better.” You sigh, “I’m rambling again. I’m afraid I can’t speak properly this morning.”

“I know what you are attempting to get across.” he mumbles to you, bowing his head to rest it upon your bump. “But I should make more of an effort to…” He furrows his brows, carefully selecting the correct word, “be open. But it’s difficult. How can I ask you to help me when I do not even know how to help myself?”

His words break your heart.

You frown, letting go of his hand to stroke his head. “We will figure it out, and I will be there every step of the way with you, no matter what.”

“And if you grow tired of me?”

You stiffen. This time it’s his words that hang in the air. As he utters them, a cloud seems to block the early sunlight emitting through your window, casting a blueish-gray hue in your small home.

“William never utter such mindless things again,” You scold him sharply. “I will never tire of you.” You allow your form to relax once more as your face softens, lightening your tone, “Is not carrying your child enough evidence?”

You hear him exhale a breathy chuckle and then feel him place a kiss on your womb.

After a while, with you stroking his hair and him kneeling before you, you speak softly once more reassuring, “I love you. For the man that you were and for the man that you’ve become. I will be here for you. And though your healing may take time, it’s a step in the right direction. Never doubt that.”

The sun’s rays make an appearance once more, flooding the small room in a golden, promising light.

Masterlist

#william schofield x reader #william schofield imagine #1917 fanfic #george mackay x reader #royalbluehues

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