#dean chapman x reader

[jc-writes-bullshit]

Would you guys cancel me if I wrote a Supernatural x Lockwood and Co. fic I’m losing my mind over here

[vigilante-3073]

Fast Car

Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Summary: The three times that Sam watched Dean and Y/N sing along to one of their favorite country songs and the one time he didn't.

TW: Pre-established relationship, fluff, dancing, kissing, marriage and children.

Sam sat at a small table in the corner of the crowded country bar as he looked through news stories on his laptop. They had just finished a case in Oklahoma and Sam had the responsibility looking for their next hunt.

He looked up from his screen, eyes quickly finding his brother across the bar. Dean's hands were resting on his girlfriend's hips, holding her close as they sang along to Fast Car by Tracy Chapman.

"You got a fast car

I got a plan to get us out of here

I been working at the convenience store

Managed to save just a little bit of money

Won't have to drive too far

Just 'cross the border and into the city

You and I can both get jobs

And finally see what it means to be living."

Dean pulled away slightly, taking her hand and spinning her around with a wide smile. She laughed, leaning into him as he pulled her back in. Y/N had always loved country music and she had been slowly expanding Dean's musical inventory to include her favorite songs.

Fast Car had quickly become their song and they couldn't go on a road trip without playing it at least once. Sam couldn't bring himself to be annoyed because of how happy it made his brother.

How happy Y/N made his brother.

They were perfect together and there would always be a part of Sam that hoped to find a love like that again after he had lost Jess.

Dean's hands slid from her waist into the back pocket of her jeans as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

There was something almost sad about the song, it was something that he and Dean would probably never be able to experience.

A simple life.

Settling down and starting a family.

And Dean deserved it more than anyone in the world.

...

The impala sped down the highway, the music was blasting and the windows were rolled down. Sam sat in the backseat, staring out at the vast field that ran alongside the highway.

The summer air was hot and the roads were empty as they drove back to the bunker after a successful hunt.

Y/N was in the front seat, body turned towards Dean as they sung along to the song.

"So I remember we were driving, driving in your car

Speed so fast, I felt like I was drunk

City lights lay out before us

And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder

And I-I, had a feeling that I belonged

I-I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone."

Dean looked over at her, watching the wind blow her hair around as he drove. His arm wrapped around her waist, pulling her over to his side before his eyes returned the road ahead of them.

Sam watched them for a moment, smiling to himself as Dean drummed his hand against the steering wheel to the beat of the music.

Y/N turned her head, pressing a kiss to Dean's cheek. He smiled, thumb stroking across the material of her t-shirt fondly.

She rested her head down on his shoulder, hand resting on his knee as she listened to him sing along to the music.

...

Sam made his way down the hallway towards the kitchen after his run, glancing at his watch with a frown as he paused in the doorway.

Music was blaring from Y/N's speaker as her and Dean moved around the kitchen making breakfast. Y/N chopped up strawberries on a cutting board while Dean flipped a pancake in a pan with bacon crackling away on another burner.

Dean suddenly turned towards his girlfriend, using the spatula as a microphone as he sung to her.

"You got a fast car

We go cruising to entertain ourselves

You still ain't got a job

And I work in a market as a checkout girl

I know things will get better

You'll find work and I'll get promoted

We'll move out of the shelter

Buy a bigger house and live in the suburbs."

Y/N smiled widely, abandoning the knife on the cutting board before singing the next line into the spatula. Dean reached out and grabbed her hand, spinning her around before pulling her back against his chest.

Y/N laughed, hand resting on his forearm as they swayed together. Dean spun her back around before releasing her with a wink.

He turned back to the stove, flipping the pancake before sliding over to his girlfriend and pressing a kiss to the back of her head. His hands found her hips before pulling her away from her cutting board and into his arms. Dean spun her around in his hold, taking her hand and wrapping his other arm around her waist before guiding them in a few practiced steps. He held her close to himself, singing along loudly before pulling away and spinning her around.

Dean pulled her back against his chest, pressing a kiss to her temple before sweeping her back into their dance.

They glided around the room, he spun her a few more times before wrapping both of his arms around her waist and pressing his lips to her's in a gentle kiss.

Y/N's fingers tangled in his hair before they reluctantly broke apart and returned to their tasks.

Their relationship almost seemed effortless to Sam.

It was almost like everything else faded away when they were together. It was the purest form of love that anyone could hope to find in this messed up world.

...

Dean turned off the television, tossing the remote aside with a sigh, "Nothin' on, buddy," He muttered, looking down at the Terrier mix who blinked up at him from the floor. Dean grabbed his phone from the coffee table, clicking the power button and feeling relieved when he didn't see any notifications on his screen.

Sam was supposed to come over for dinner to see some of the renovations that Dean had done on the new house. Dean still couldn't believe how many changes had occurred in the last few years.

Dean had made the decision to leave hunting behind and finally made a life for himself. Sam was finishing up a quick case a few states over before going into his own version of hunting retirement. They had both given so much of their lives to hunting and now it was time to live for themselves.

Dean looked over at the bookshelf, his eyes finding the stereo sitting between the books. Dean stood up, making his way over and turning on the power. He flipped through the channels, quickly turning up the volume when he heard the familiar tune start.

"No way," He muttered.

"So I remember when we were driving, driving in your car

Speed so fast, I felt like I was drunk

City lights lay out before us

And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder

And I-I, had a feeling that I belonged

I-I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone

You got a fast car

Is it fast enough so you can fly away?

You gotta make a decision

Leave tonight or live and die this way."

He straightened up with a smile, "Baby, c'mere for a minute," Dean called. Y/N made her way into the living room of their home with their daughter held against her side.

"Is that-?" "Yeah... I thought that maybe my two favorite girls would wanna dance," He said.

"Of course," Y/N smiled.

Dean carefully took their daughter from her arms, cradling her in the crook of his arm before holding out his hand.

Y/N rested her hand in his, gold wedding band catching the soft afternoon sunlight pouring in through the window.

She wrapped her arm around him, smiling down at their daughter as he guided them around the living room. Dean carefully spun his wife before drawing her back in, singing down to their daughter as they swayed together.

This was the life he had always wanted and now he had it.

His beautiful wife, his baby girl, his brother, a house and the dog.

Dean never would have thought this kind of life would be possible for him and now he couldn't dream of living any other way.

He had everything he could possibly want and he was finally happy.

[daydreamngs]

No Regrets | Dean-Charles Chapman

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

warnings: Fluff

word count: 1,214

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

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

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

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

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

[withhowsadsteps]

from the dining table - matt fic (bbtl)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

5 years later

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

[ditch-witches]

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

pairing: Dean Charles Chapman x reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[britishboystm]

Photographs (Tom Blake)

Warnings: fluff, slight angst

Word Count: 1432

A/N: idea from @blueeyedheizer 🥰🥰🥰

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of being and ideal grace.

I love thee to the level of every day’s

Most quiet need, by sun and candle-light.

Come home to me Thomas

Always yours,

Y/N

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

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

———

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[valterras]

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

george mackay george mackay george mackay

george mackay george mackay george mackay

george mackay george mackay

[propertyofwicked]

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

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

a-z of dating george mackay

a - argue

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

b - body (his favourite body part of yours)

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

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

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

d - dates (what do you guys do?)

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

e - engagements (how he proposed) 

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

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

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

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

g - gifts

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

h - how you met

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

“um, hi. i’m george.”

“hi?”

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

i - intimacy (how often are yall getting down)

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

j - jealousy

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

k - kinks

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

l - long distance

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

m - moving in

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

n - nights out 

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

o - open with each other

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

p - pda

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

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

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

r - reproduction (do you want kids?)

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

s - surprising (what surprised you about him)

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

t - together (what you do together)

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

u - under the influence (drunk vibes)

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

v - vacations

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

w - wedding

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

x - xray (when he’s hurt)

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

y - you (a random headcanon) 

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

z - zzzzzzzzzzzz’s (sleeping routine)

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

[mydemimonde]

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

✎ = still writing

⚘ BEN HARDY

▪ Ben dating a latina (headcanon)

▪ Making out with Ben (headcanon)

▪ ‘Early Christmas Gift’ (one shot)

▪ ‘Marathon’ (one shot) (+18)

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

▪ ‘Happy New Year’ (one shot) (+18)

▪ ‘Make love to me’ (one shot) (+18)

⚘ DEAN-CHARLES CHAPMAN

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

⇢ Chapter 1

⇢ Chapter 2

⇢ Chapter 3

⇢ Chapter 4

⇢ Chapter 5

⇢ Chapter 6

⇢ Chapter 7

⇢ Chapter 8

[a-skeleton-of-something-m0re]

Cockney Kisses

Warnings: Smut, smoking.

Word count: 4,298

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 [...]

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

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

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

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

(*)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(*)

[...]

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

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

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

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

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

[...]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[blueeyedheizer]

A Little Light - Blake & Schofield x reader

WARNINGS: x

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is her name?" Blake continued.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[strangethings-everywhere]

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

Here you go anon! I hope you like it!

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

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

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

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

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

“Florence!” You hissed. “Shut up!”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Excuse me? You’re Y/N Y/L/N right?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

oh. 

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

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

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

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

It was his number. 

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

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

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

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

[daydreamngs]

Call Me Will | William Schofield

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

warnings: Fluff

word count: 1,242

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

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

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

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

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

[withhowsadsteps]

non potrà colpirti più niente - matt (blinded by the light)

y’all this aint very good but it is still something. i’ve been hella busy with my studies and i managed to get sick so… yeah. i’ve been listening to måneskin’s coraline on repeat so i used it as my inspiration. i think my fever is getting worse so if the ending seems a bit sudden... i'm sorry

warnings: mention of rape, violence and miscarriage, sad stuff words: just a bit over 1200

oh ps. unfortunately, i don’t speak italian but because i absolutely adore the way it sounds i’ve googled translations and the title means nothing will ever hurt you again. this song is literally so tragically beautiful y’all should listen to it and check out it’s lyrics

Y/N sat on her bed, her hands wrapped around her stomach. She thought that she was loved and she was happily falling in love with a man who seemed to be perfect. But life is cruel, and everything is not as it seems. It all happened so slowly that she didn’t even realize what was happening until it was too late. He started controlling her life bit by bit, starting from her friendships and clothing until she was basically all alone. She was his puppet. The countless times he raped her even when she told him no broke her. In the end she didn’t even have the energy to try and stop him. Eventually, she found out she was pregnant. She was very young still and very unsure of bringing a baby to this life of abuse, but at the same time the thought of having a child and someone to love and be genuinely loved by… it comforted her. When he found out about the pregnancy, he changed his behavior. For a while life seemed to get better and Y/N got to enjoy the pregnancy for that short while. But everything changed way too quickly. Y/N’s lifelong best friends, Javed and Matt came to visit her, out of the blue. Matt was back in the city and wanted to see her. Y/N was over the moon, happy to tell her friends about her pregnancy, but her so-called boyfriend did not want to see another man so close to her. He also knew way too well, that Matt used to have a crush on her. Everyone else knew, but she seemed oblivious. He also knew that Y/N probably still, subconsciously or consciously, dreamed of a life with Matt. After that visit, Y/N found herself in a hospital room. Her worried parents by her side. Losing her baby shattered her world all over again.

Y/N heard her mother’s worried whispers outside her bedroom door. She broke her trance and unwrapped her arms, got up and dried the tears on her cheeks. Moving back to home happened quickly, but it was the safest thing to do. But she couldn’t stay. Not in Luton. It was time for her to finally move away and start a life somewhere else. Today was that day. Her parents stood outside her room, waiting for her. Her father picked up the last few bags around her room and took them to the car. Destination: London.

When they were little Javed, Matt and Y/N always talked about London. Moving there, dreaming of a glamorous life there. After her parents left her in her new apartment, she broke down freely. Letting her emotions take over her completely. She had been trying to stay strong in front of her parents, but inside her feelings were a tumultuous storm waiting to erupt and destroy everything in its path. The anxiety completely took over, her sobs filling the small apartment. Her cries could make the coldest murderer cry, the despair and loss strongly audible. After a while, she pulled her phone out and called the first person on her mind. Matt.

-

While Matt drove from his apartment somewhere in London to her place, Y/N washed her face with cold water. She hoped that it would cool down her face enough to reduce the swelling around her eyes. She looked like shit. She felt empty. Her body felt distant, strange. Y/N looked at her stomach once again, imagining what it would’ve looked by now. Thinking about her baby, now gone. Hearing the doorbell, she quickly moved to open the door and welcomed Matt in. He didn’t know about her situation, she never dared to tell him. Seeing her like this immediately worried him. He looked around the apartment for any signs of Y/N’s boyfriend but realized that there was no boyfriend. He didn’t know too much about pregnancies, but she didn’t look pregnant to him. Wasn’t she supposed to have a rounder belly by now? He closed the door behind him and managed to undress his leather jacket before hearing Y/N sobs. Wrapping his arms around her, Matt managed to move them to the sofa. He held her, tightly. He did not know how much time had passed, but Y/N sobs quieted down, and she seemed tired. It didn’t take much for her to fall asleep in his arms. Y/N felt safe in Matt’s arms, safest she had felt. Safer than she had felt at her childhood home. Nowhere felt safer than here right now. After she woke up, she had to gather everything in her to tell Matt what had happened.

Matt didn’t dare to say out loud what he was thinking. He wanted to beat the bastard until he begged for mercy, but knew that it wouldn’t help Y/N. So, he just stayed there, holding here, watching over her. Over the weeks he came to her apartment to check on her, to make or bring her food. He had to make sure that she ate. This was one of those days. “You probably think that I’m behaving like a child”, she whispers quietly, avoiding Matt’s eyes. “No, I think that you’re behaving like someone who has been through hell” he truthfully told her and pointed at her plate of food. Y/N shook her head a bit. “I’m sorry Matt, I can’t. Not now” she told him. Matt couldn’t forcefully feed her, but he tried his best to make her feel better. And he had made progress.

With Matt’s help, Y/N got better. It took some time, and it was not easy, but she managed to get her life back. She got a well-paying job, a bigger apartment in a nicer neighborhood and closer to Matt’s, even a small car. She felt better, even though she thought about her baby a lot. Matt sometimes noticed the longing look on her face when she saw pregnant women or newborn babies. He always had had a crush on Y/N but he never thought of having kids at all, not even with her. But his feelings and love seemed to grow day by day and he noticed that he started to think about having kids. Seeing her longing for a family of her own… it did something to him. But the only woman he wanted to be his and the mother of his kids was her.

~ two years later ~

Y/N yawns tiredly and rubs her round belly a bit, feeling the little one’s kick on her palm. A little giggle escaped her lips. “Yeah, I know you’re wide awake, but mommy’s a bit sleepy” she says quietly and finally puts away the last diapers.

Matt approached his wife and wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Mommy should rest, remember? You know very well what the doctor said” he murmured and softly kissed her cheek.

“I can’t help it; I can’t wait to have the baby in my arms” she said and turned around in his arms. The fear of losing her baby had been very bad during the first trimester and somehow it still bothered her. A monster luring inside her head.

“Nothing will ever hurt you again. Nothing or no one. I’m going to keep both of you safe” Matt whispers and presses his forehead against hers. They found solace and love in each other. Matt wouldn’t let anyone take that away from them.

[ditch-witches]

Hey there! I was wondering if you could write about Dean making you breakfast for the first time? I love your Dean content btw and am in the mood for some domestic Dean :)

pairing: Dean Charles Chapman x reader

warnings: suggestive language, cursing, this doesn’t really give off domestic vibes and is a little thin I apologize :/

You groaned slightly and rubbed the sleep from your eyes, stretching your hands towards where you usually kept your phone. You panicked momentarily as you realized your table wasn't there anymore, opening your eyes and finding that you weren't in your room. And then you remembered going out with your friend and not making it home. You knew she had gotten up for work probably hours prior to you waking up. You rolled out of bed and headed for the shower, needing to pull yourself together in some way before you headed back out into the world, grateful you didn't have plans for the day. The shower was hot and soothed your hangover as you let the water roll over your body, your smudged makeup being stripped away like you were shedding a previous life. 

Your friend's clothes were soft and neatly pressed in her drawers, making you smile at her tidiness as you pulled a few articles from their piles, careful not to disrupt anything too drastically. Her hoodie fit you snugly and as you looked into the mirror, you furrowed your brows slightly, debating if you should put makeup on or not. After all, you weren't planning on running into anyone special. As you stepped out of her room, noises from the kitchen startled you. You crept down the stairs quietly and pushed open the kitchen door, the creaking of the hinges revealing a man at her stove. The two of you looked up at each other and jumped, him almost dropping his bowl. 

"Who the fuck are you?" You demanded, grabbing the nearest household item to serve as a weapon. You swore under your breath as you realized it was a remote. 

"I live here. Who the fuck are you?" He mimicked your tone, furrowing his brows at you. You let out a breath of relief. 

"Oh thank God. You're the new roommate?" You asked, setting down the remote and walking into the kitchen. 

"Yeah. I'm Dean…" he hesitated, his eyes watching you pour yourself a cup of coffee. 

"I'm the best friend," you greeted, mumbling your name soon after. 

His eyebrow raised at you. "Want some breakfast?" You looked over him slightly to see what he was making. "There's going to be tons leftover." 

"Alright. Don't poison me, Dean," you jeered, moving to sit on the kitchen island. 

He chuckled, turning back to the stove. "I won't. Just don't hit me with the remote." You giggled slightly at his jest while he smirked. It was now that you fully took in his appearance. You had been too blinded by adrenaline and excitement that you hadn't noticed how broad his shoulders were and how his dark hair was just the right amount of curly. He peered over his shoulder at you before turning to lean against the counter beside the stove while the pan got hotter. His blue eyes were vibrant due to the contrast of his black hoodie. You had to admit, he was cute.

"So, where are you from, Dean?" You asked, swinging your legs and taking a sip of coffee. You studied where his clothes hugged his body and the easiness in his appearance, your eyes trailing down to his grey sweatpants. Nice. 

"Essex," he muttered, searching your face for something. “Romford, Essex.” 

"You're a long way from home then, aren't you?" You asked without skipping a beat.

He smirked. "Sometimes distance is good, don't you think?" 

"Not if you're around the right person," you commented, sending him a mildly flirtatious grin, making the tips of his ears ghost red. 

His eyebrows perked as he grinned. "Cheeky." His eyes raked over you as well, almost like sizing up an opponent. 

You wet your lips, feeling rather bold. Men in domestic situations were always your weakness. Especially when they were as attractive as Dean. "Do you have that right person?" You quizzed. 

He grinned fully, shrugging and turning back to an egg frying. "I don't think I would be living in a flat like this if I did." His sly wink made you smile. 

"Really? Even if you've only dated a girl for like a month, you'd move in with her?" You hopped down from the counter to lean beside him. 

He swallowed, fighting his ever-growing grin before looking back up into your eyes with a mock sincerity on his face. "Oh no, I'm a hopeless romantic, you see. I'd get married within the week if I met that right person." 

You giggled at his comment and he smiled. "How many times have you been married then?"

"In the past year? Four," he shrugged. You laughed a bit harder. "Damn, I could get used to that," he commented, almost too quiet for your own ears, making you bite your lip. 

You crossed your arms. "I could get used to having a man in the kitchen." 

"Good, because usually, I sleep in the kitchen," he quipped.

"Oh yeah?” You crossed your arms to keep from giving in to your temptations. ”Under the kitchen table or on top?" 

"Under. I'm not a heathen," he faked offense. 

You bit back another chuckle, deciding to probe further. "So you like to be on bottom?" 

His face twisted smugly before his eyes turned to yours. The blue in his eyes seemed to have grown darker. "If that's what the table would prefer.” 

"And if the table wants you on top?" He leaned towards you, closing what little distance there was between the two of you. Your heart began to race a mile per minute, as his musky yet woody scent invaded your senses. God, he smelled more enticing than the food he was cooking. 

"So be it," he answered, a sly smirk creeping across his face, as he reached around you to grab a bottle of some kind of spice. You almost reached out and touched him.

"I like you," you uttered and he grinned at what he was doing. 

"Feelings mutual, love," he added keenly. 

"Too bad we're not roommates," you leered, stepping ever so slightly closer to him, your thigh ghosting against his leg.

He leaned towards you again, his beautiful scent once again enveloping you. "Careful, I marry on the first date, remember?" 

You smiled, biting your lip, his attention drawing to your mouth. "I thought you said within the week?" 

"Different circumstances," he threw back, a grin still playing on his plump lips. He moved to hand you a plate of a variety of foods. 

You took it but kept him holding onto the other side. "Would you want to get a drink later?"

He chewed his bottom lip. "You ready for the commitment?" He joked. 

"I'm ready for whatever you want from me, Dean," you commented, taking the plate and nudging his side as you walked out of the kitchen with it, basking in his deep chuckle. 

this is so cheesy bls forgive me

[britishboystm]

It’s Always Been You (Tom Blake Smut)

warnings: angst, smut, death

word count: 4,723

a/n: I can’t believe this is the first time I’ve written for Tom

•••

Tom had always been a good friend. His family did cherries and yours did apples.

Before the two of you were born, your fathers went into business together and shared a booth at the Saturday market in your town. Both your mothers were thick as thieves and had gotten pregnant around the same time, and you were born a month after Tom. It was safe to say you were never going to leave each other’s sides.

You did everything together, well until your father became worried that you were becoming too much like a boy by spending so much time with Tom. You’d fondly remember the times the two of you would go down to the river and stand in the water up to your knees trying to see who could catch the most tadpoles. The two of you would usually come back to yours or his farm around dinner time covered in mud and dirt up your waist. Your mother always complained that she couldn’t see your pretty face due to the muck that was often smeared on it. Because of all this you ended up being sent to a private girls school a few miles south, where you weren’t allowed to see Tom unless it was Christmas.

You secretly wrote to one another though during your time at boarding school and when his father passed away from pneumonia you were his only real support system other than his brother. His mother went into a bad depression after his father's death so he was left to grieve his father's passing alone.

Once your learning was finished, you did not hesitate to come home and help on Tom’s farm again. Tom’s mother would pay you to pick cherries since your father had sold his orchard.

But things had changed when you came home. Tom was no longer the little chubby boy who you could mess around with and make mud pies and pretend to eat with. His hair had darkened and his shoulders had broadened. Not to mention he now towered you. He was a man. And a handsome man at that. You never noticed that about him before.

The glances you shared now didn’t hold the same innocence it once did. There was something different in his chilly blue irises. His gaze would last a little too long when you would bend over to pick up the barrels of cherries and whenever the two of you rinsed them by the big well, he always found a way to sneak a small graze of your hand so you wouldn’t forget he was there beside you.

But those flirtatious moments didn’t last forever when war was declared in Britain. Almost immediately, Joe was sent off to fight for king and country. Tom didn’t need to but because Tom had to always be the same as Joe or one up him, he had kept saying he was going to enlist as well. You didn’t take it seriously until one day Tom came running down the driveway to meet you and his mom, who were depitting the last batch of the season.

“I did it, I did it!” You frowned in confusion at his obvious excitement as he hopped around with a letter in hand. His mother grabbed the letter from him quite quickly and nearly fainted after reading the first two lines. The two of you quickly grabbed her and called it a night, bringing her into the house.

His mother was in shambles and was now seated on the couch while she sobbed into her hands. She didn’t even have the desire to cook dinner. That’s when you knew things were bad.

“What did you do?” You say to Tom as he sorrowfully watched his mom cry.

“I enlisted, I’m leaving next week to fight in France.” It was now your turn to almost faint as you grab the kitchen table beside you.

“Have you gone mad?” You breathe out as you take a seat to steady yourself.

“No I haven’t. If Joe can do it so can I!” His voice raised in anger as he crossed his arms over his chest, obviously upset at the double standards that were set for him and his older brother.

“That is not what this is about Tom. Joe is gone, there is nothing we can do about that. But you? It was so easily avoidable but you’ve gone and ruined everything. How selfish can you be? Who will your mother have if both you and Joe don’t return home? Who will I have?” You begin to choke up near the end and let a single tear slip down your cheek.

Tom sighs and storms out of the kitchen, probably heading upstairs to freshen up while you prepare the dinner since Mrs. Blake clearly wasn’t well enough to.

You focused on making dinner as Mrs. Blake and Tom sat in the living room, not speaking to one another. What was there to say? Tom knew yours and his mother’s thoughts on it all and he was too stubborn to be convinced to not leave.

Once dinner was ready everyone sat at the table and ate quietly. Again no words were spoken and the tension was so thick amongst the three of you. None of you were able to finish due to the unsettling feeling you all shared so you finally gave up and collected the half eaten dishes and placed them into the sink.

“I’m going to bed. Goodnight.” Mrs Blake said as she slowly got up and weakly walked up the stairs to her room. She looked so frail and worn out that it made you even more mad at Tom for the pain he was already causing.

You stood at the sink and faced away from Tom as he stayed put at the table. The only sounds that filled the room was the clashing of dirty plates and running water.

This was all such a mess.

———-

Later that night you found yourself sitting on the haystack in the Blake barn with the doors wide open as you stared out at the navy night sky. Stars adorned the sky. They continued to shimmer, unaware of the fact that your world was falling apart at the seams. Funny how time and space works, you thought. So many other thoughts rattled around your brain, all of them making you want to cry.

You were so deeply focused on your little world that you didn’t initially hear Tom walk in.

“Couldn’t sleep either huh?” He said before walking up and taking a seat beside you on the hay.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner.” You don’t respond but rather stare out into nothing with an emotionless expression.

“The least you can do is talk to me.” He says, nudging you lightly to lighten the mood.

“I wanted to marry you.” You blurt out of nowhere in a montone way. There was a good chance he was never coming home so at this point you felt as though you had nothing to lose.

He bowed his head in shame and twiddled his thumbs, clearly trying to absorb this big bombshell.

“Really?” He says finally looking at you and trying to hide his excitement.

“Yeah but at this point it’s foolish to think like that, considering I may never see you again.” You finally look at him with hurt in your eyes which he matches almost immediately.

“Y/N I-“ He tries to say something but you are quick to cut him off.

“Why is this so important to you?” He sighs and runs a hand through his hair before getting more comfortable in his spot.

“I don’t know. I feel as though I have lived my entire life being the lesser of the two brothers. Joe has always been the golden child that I wanted to prove myself. That I can be courageous and brave just like him.” You bite your lip from saying anything that may hurt him. It made sense why he would do this but you still hated the idea.

“Aren’t you afraid?”

“Of course I am. I’m scared shitless. But I’ve been scared shitless my entire life.” You sigh and the two of you sit in silence for a while, nothing but the sound of crickets and the warm night breeze floating by.

“Promise you won’t laugh?” He says out of the blue, rubbing his neck in embarrassment. You nod in return, silently telling him there is no reason to feel judged by you.

“There is one more thing I’m scared of.”

“And what’s that?”

“I shouldn’t say. It’s so bloody embarrassing.”

“What? No! You have to tell me now! That isn’t fair!”

“Okay fine.” He sighs.

“Spit it out then.” You say with an urgency to your voice.

“I’m scared of dying a virgin.” Your eyes go wide and you look over to him to see if he is joking or not. When you see him looking down at his lap shamefully, a blush creeps upon your face. You had never really discussed those things before. Especially with him.

Girls talked about it when you were in private school but you didn’t usually have anything to contribute.

“Oh.” Is all that you are able to get out.

“I’m sorry, I should have just kept that to myself. Forget I said anything.” He begins to ramble, clearly trying to backtrack on his last comment.

“There is no reason to feel ashamed of those type of things Thomas. Those are normal worries people have.”

“You think so?” He says hopefully.

“Of course. I also get scared by the idea of never being able to feel that way with someone. It’s natural.” It was now his turn to blush. Oh to be the one to make you feel that way, he thought.

“Tom?” You finally say, bracing yourself for his response.

“Yes?” He says back.

“You know. If we both share this fear, we could always… get rid of it together.” He is speechless and his jaw drops as he stares at your nervous expression.

“Do you really want to?” He finally gets out.

“Well, we know each other and we are good friends. I also feel very comfortable with you which is important.”

“Right but we aren’t married.”

“At this point Tom I don’t really care about that. I need to vent all of these emotions somehow.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“So that’s what this is about. You want to fuck out your feelings because I’m leaving?” He seemed a little hurt by this. Like this was simply an impulse or an itch that was aching to be scratched. That was part of it but it was mostly the fact that you’ve wanted him to be your first the minute you returned home and saw just how much of man he had become. You loved him and he was now giving you a free pass to finally fulfill your desires.

“No, Tom that is not it. I want to lose my virginity and to be quite honest, I couldn’t think of anyone else I would want to lose it to.”

“Really?” A cocky smirk came upon his lips as he leaned in and nudged you slightly. You rolled your eyes in response and scoffed.

“Okay you don’t need to get all cocky about it.” He laughed before trying to start something by catching your gaze in his.

And with no warning Tom pounced on you and began kissing your neck roughly which caught you off guard.

“Tom get off! What are you doing?” You squeal as you push him away.

“What? I thought you said you wanted to lose your virginity to me. I leave next week remember?” Your glare is piercing as you stood up.

“I didn’t mean here at this very moment! God can you at least give me a warning before you try and pull something like that?” He falls back a bit onto the hay bale with an exasperated sigh, running his hands through his hair in frustration.

“Sorry.” He says realizing his wrong doing. You weren’t just an inanimate object that could just be used whenever. Contrary to what your father always believed, you were a person of integrity and if you needed time, then by god you were doing to get the respect you deserved.

“I think I will go to bed now.” Your words are soft as you turn around and hesitantly head out into the vast land of the Blake farm. You couldn’t help but look back to see Tom sitting there, embarrassed. Millions of thoughts swam around but one kept finding itself coming back again and again. That specific feeling that came whenever Tom did chores around the barn that made his muscles flex was coming back and even though you had just rejected him, the feeling was growing more and more.

“Fuck it.” You say under your breath before you quickly turn around and plop down onto his waist in a straddle, causing him to let out a groan at the sudden impact.

He looks at you in confusion, and right before he could say another word you quickly attach your lips to his. The kiss was aggressive and feverish as your hands threaded through his hair, gripping it tightly to get him to part his lips. As a result he let out a small gasp at your fingers tugging at his roots and your tongue swirling around his mouth. This was your first ever kiss and soon to be first ever time so you weren’t going to hold back. Not if it was with Tom.

Everything felt so right in that moment. Just two nineteen year olds using the last bit of time together before probable tragedy. You had a gut feeling that Tom was never going to walk up that long gravel driveway ever again. You shooed those horrid thoughts away.

“Tom.” You sigh against his plush lips. He pulls away and intently looks into your eyes, worry evident on his face.

“Did I do something wrong?” He asked. You couldn’t help but giggle at his puppy like demeanour.

“Of course not. You are being so kind Tom.”

Your gaze then suddenly becomes transfixed with his white button shirt. Then without a second thought your hands grazed up and down his covered chest before you began to unbutton the first three, exposing his sternum. You look up to see him intensely watching your actions, his breathing beginning to increase.

“Are you sure Y/N?” He says while his hands run up and down the sides of your basic grey dress.

“Only if you are.” You whisper back. Taking this as affirmation he flips you around and lays you gently on the cushiony yet scratchy hay that held the both of you off of the dirty ground of the barn.

“You know I have always, thought, you were, so beautiful.” He says in between kisses along your face. You smile softly at his words and sigh, allowing yourself to fall deeper into the hay.

“Thomas Blake you always knew how to make a girl blush.” He chuckles at this and stops kissing you, holding himself up above your body.

“You remember the time your parents invited the Darby’s to Christmas Dinner. How it was your first year back from St. Clares and because they were the richest family in town, your parents tried to set you up with their son Richard?” You roll your eyes.

“Tom what does this have to do with us having sex right now?” You were growing slightly impatient.

“Wait, let me finish love.” You sigh and shift slightly to grow more comfortable. This may take some time, you thought.

“I remember I was so mad because your parents wouldn’t let me play with you. They basically threw you to Richard and I had to watch them try to play matchmaker. At the time I believed that I was angry because I wasn’t allowed to play with my best friend since you had been away for so long. But years later I looked back at that moment and I realized that I was jealous. Jealous at the fact that you were paying all of your attention to Richard and not me. Of course your parents made you but I remember making Richard my sworn enemy that day. Stupid huh?” You smile and run a hand down his cheek.

“No not at all. I can’t believe you remember that.” His words made you think for a moment. He had been in love with you for so long and you didn’t even notice.

“Tom?” You ask.

“Yes Y/N?” Your body almost turned to jelly at his readiness to do anything for you. The adoration was so obvious that “in love” could easily be stamped on the slightly older boy's forehead.

“Would it be crazy to say I am, whole heartedly, absolutely, in love with you Thomas Blake?”

“No it wouldn’t.” He laughed.

“And would I be absolutely mad to say that I am, insanely, crazily, in love with you Y/N L/N?” You shake your head with a smile and with that he leans in once more and continues the eventful night with a loving yet lustful kiss.

His hands begin to have a mind of their own as they roam your body. After exploring most of your many curves, his left hand slowly made its way under your dress, lifting it slightly and beginning to touch you over your knickers.

“Oh my.” You gasp out as he places a tad bit of pressure on your clit.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, watching your reactions intently.

“Very tingling, ve-very g-good.” You try to get out in between gasps. He smirks proudly at this and begins creating circles against the fabric that covers your centre.

“Off. Off Tom, please.” You slightly beg. Wanting to make you feel good, Tom begins to slide your knickers down your legs and chucks them off to the side.

“Can I see?” He asks sheepishly. You curve your neck so you can see him down between your legs.

“Yes.” You respond. With a steady hand, Tom lifts your dress, dropping it up around your waist and groans at the sight of your exposed, glistening cunt.

“Wow.” Is all he can say.

“Tom!” You whine, unable to bear the throbbing feeling between your thighs.

“Sorry, just got distracted.” He mutters. Tom then leans in and lets out a hot breath. Your legs clench at this and Tom becomes aware with just how sensitive you really are.

“I’m going to kiss you here. Is that alright darling?” You nod weakly and with that his lips attach to your centre. A moan is drawn out of you almost instantly.

“Fuck. This cannot be your first time.” You blurt out, clutching his hair. He smirks against you before he sits up again and places a long kiss on your awaiting lips.

“Just you darling. It’s always been you.” You giggle in response and wrap your arms around his neck and pull him flush against you.

“Y/N I don’t know how much longer I can last without putting my cock in you.” He spurts out in pent up frustration.

“Charming words there.” you scoff before he begins to unbutton his dirty work slack and push them down his legs.

“Can I unlace you’re-“ you sit up, already knowing what he is about to say. Your hands swing to the back of your dress and you quickly begin to unravel the back, letting it fall off your upper body. Your breasts were perked to the air from outside.

“Christ.” He says before leaning down and taking one breast into his mouth. He is slow and gentle with his actions, clearly showing you how important this moment was for him. With small mewls leaving your lips every once in a while, you ran your fingers through his hair again. This time you made sure to be more soft on his scalp.

“I’m ready, are you?” He whispers as he moves his mouth up to your jaw, hands still caressing your bosom. You nod slowly which makes him smile. It was finally going to happen.

He brings himself up again and places his hands on either side of your head.

You take a moment to take in his member. The only time you had seen one was when you snuck an anatomy book from the library when you were in school. Seeing one in real life was a whole new experience

He notices your stare and smirks.

“Everything alright?” He asks.

“I don’t know. It’s so different from the books. This is all so new to me.”

“It’s alright darling. We will learn together.” You nod in response and before you knew it, he was beginning to insert himself into you.

The feeling was so forgein and awkward that you had to smack him to stop.

“Ow fuck, Tom stop!” He quickly removes himself and holds you into his chest.

“Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” You grab him tighter in thanks and lean away a tad to look at his concerned face.

“It feels so tight. Could you maybe use your fingers first?” He nods and slips a hand down your dress again. One finger is dipped inside and you let out a sigh of relief. This was a lot easier to manage, you thought.

“Oh Thomas that feels so good.” You say. He smiles and takes your praise to allow himself to enter a second finger. Your legs clench a tad as he moves his fingers in and out, every once in a while, spreading your increased wetness along your slit.

“I think I’m ready now.” You say. It didn’t take much for him to remove his fingers and lick off your wetness. Then he positioned himself the same way he did not that long before. His member slipped into you and this time around it felt a lot less uncomfortable. It still caused a pressure but not enough for you to scream bloody murder.

“Should I move?” He asks. You were doing it. This was no longer a dream or a fantasy. Thomas Blake was staring down at you with his cock inside at the hilt.

“God yes.” You moan while throwing your head back and closing your eyes. Tom began retracting his hip and then swirled them around before pushing forward again.

“Fuck me.” He cries out.

“I’m so happy we did this.” He says. You grip his shirt and open up the rest of the buttons, allowing the rest of his torso to be revealed to you. Your hands ran up and down his chest and soft stomach.

“Slow down.” You whisper gently. He nods and his movements start to calm. His eyes are entranced by yours and you can’t help but notice tears in his eyes.

“Are you crying?” You ask.

“I’m going to miss you so much.” He whimpers back, as he continues to move back and forth within you. Tears began brimming your eyes and as you both let tears fall through your orgasms, you pulled him flush against you.

“Come home to me.” You kept repeating.

“I promise.” He would say back with as much of a clear voice he could muster up.

And with that your legs begin to shake and you let out an elongated moan. His seed spills deep inside of you and as he removes himself from your core you can't help but feel it drip down your inner thigh.

“I love you Thomas Blake.”

“I love you Y/N L/N.”

———

You stared blankly out the kitchen window as you dried off the plates from lunch. The sky was a gloomy grey but no rain fell. Mrs Blake sat silently in the living room, knitting a small bonet with yellow yarn.

Your mind was somewhere else that you hadn’t initially noticed a car pull up and a soldier stepping out, letter in hand.

The plate you had been drying crashes in the soapy water beneath you and you quickly dry your hands on your apron as you attempt to run out the front door.

“Mrs Blake?” The man asks as you open the door rather frantically.

“No but she’s in. Iris!” You call out. She walks slowly from her chair and situates herself beside you.

“I’m Mrs Blake.” Her words were shaky. It was almost as though she knew exactly what was about to come out of the man's mouth.

“We regret to inform you that Thomas Blake was killed in action on April 6th. His belongings will be sent to you in the next couple of weeks. We are sorry for your loss and the rest of the information given will be found in this letter.” And with that the man looked down at your stomach and sighed with sorrow before handing over the letter and walking back to the car.

Your legs went numb instantly. The only sounds you could make were loud gut wrenching sobs. You clenched your stomach as you held onto the door frame for support.

“He’s gone Iris! My beautiful Tom is gone!” She grabbed you and mixed your sobs with hers. Myrtle and the puppies were now at your feet, grazing your calves in a calming matter, almost as though they had known what had happened.

“My boy!” She lets out.

“My baby boy!”

————

Dear Y/N,

I can safely say that this is one of the hardest letters I have ever had to write. I am sure you have gotten the news before this gets to you so I want to say that I am so sorry for your loss. Tom was nothing but a good, selfless man who cared for others so deeply. Before he died, his only wish was that I wrote to you and his mother. He talked about you every chance he could. The stories from when the two of you were little, how you were the most beautiful being that he had ever seen. How him replaying your laugh in his head was the only way to get him to sleep at night when things were tough here in the trenches. He didn’t die in vain. He died knowing that he fulfilled his duty of loving you each waking moment, even if it saddened him he couldn’t do it alive for much longer.

I remember his last words to me so very clearly.

“Tell my beautiful Y/N I love her. That I will always be with her.”

He handed me this picture of the two of you together. There is some blood on it but he would have wanted you to have it nevertheless. I hope this gives you peace during these trying times and god bless Y/N.

Sincerely,

William Schofield

“Mommy, mommy look!” A small voice calls out. You drop the letter and picture of you and Tom staring longingly at each other that you had read and looked at so many times before to see your son holding a small pool of water in his hands.

“What do you have there?” You call out. He then runs up from the river and drops down beside you under the willow tree you were situated at.

“I caught a tadpole!” He says proudly.

“That’s amazing Thomas!” He smiles at your encouraging words before running back down to the water. You watched him intently as he giggled in entertainment. Sometimes you had to let out steady breaths to stop yourself from crying. He was truly the spitting image of his father, a mini Tom if you will. The icy blue eyes and the chocolate wavy hair gave him away so easily. It pained you so much to wake up and see your Tom in him every day, but it was also a blessing in disguise. Even though Tom was no longer around, he had left you a gift that you could never thank him enough for. Tom Jr was so sweet and kind and loved making friends with everyone he came across, just like his father. He was your support system and you both adored each other. He was your best friend.

And for that, you were internally grateful to Mr. Thomas Blake.