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themysteriousauthor18 · 4 years

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Radiodust oneshot [Childhood friend AU]

Artist of picture above:

A wild deer, that’s how it started.

A wild deer and a small boy watching it from the bushes. His brown eyes watched it curiously with the handgun in one of his hands, waiting for a perfect angle. As he raised it ready to aim the perfect shot would have been fired….if not for the sudden intrusion.

It was quick a blur almost but the mop of blonde hair was obvious as the small person ran at the deer and they almost had it. But the deer was faster and it moved at the last second causing the stranger to fall face first into the dirt. The brunette groaned, annoyed as he got up from his hiding spot, watching in aggravation as the deer made it’s escape. Far too fast for him to land a hit.

He looked over to the spot, it was a child and as he approached he noticed the small hand knife in their hand. He wasn’t scared though. “Hey.” The little brunette said, crossing his arms and frowning, the little blonde pushed up onto his elbows and a pair of lime green eyes met brown.

He had never seen such bright and pretty green eyes and he found himself staring for a second before regaining his thoughts. “Ya ‘don scared off ma’ prey.” The other boy tilted his head as he got to his knees before his feet. Once he stood the brunette stifled a laugh somehow taking pride in the fact that the other was at least a foot shorter than him.

“I saw ‘em first.” The brunette stared quizzically, he sounded funny.

“You got da weird voice.” The little blonde boy stuck his tongue out.

“Yeah well, you talk funny.” The two little boys exchanged looks for a second before the smaller of the two looked away. The brunette couldn’t help but look at the knife on the other hand.

“Why ya got da’ knife?” The blonde looked down at his knife.

“My pa is making me hunt animals.” The brunette scoffed.

“Dat’s dumb. A gun is betta.” The little boy smiled.

“That’s what I said!” His smile faded soon after, the brunette liked his smile. It was...nice. The shorter of the two glared at the grown. “But whenever I say that he hits me...so I stopped saying that.” The two fell silent the only sounds being the subtle forest sounds around them and heavy sounds of cicadas in the hot summer heat.

“What’s your name?” The brunette finally asked his curiosity getting the better of him. He was sharply dressed for his age and the other found it strange. His outfit looked like it had been stolen from someone, multiple tears in the pants and white T-shirt he wore.

It was a stupid choice to be talking to someone, especially out here. His father had told him never to trust anyone yet here he was talking to a boy that was strangely out here in the woods on a hot summer day. Especially when children would be playing in a pool somewhere or getting ice cream.

And despite all that, he found himself answering. “Anthony.” The brunette found himself smiling, something he rarely did these days.

“My name is Edward.” The taller of the two said, reaching his hand out as if they were businessmen.

Anthony looked at the hand curiously but found himself grabbing it. They shook and their hands stuck together for a little longer than normal before awkwardly separating.

Anthony looked at the ground. “So uh..how old are ya’? I just turned 9!” The brunette narrowed his eyes.

“10.” The blonde looked up amazed.

“Wow your old.” The brunette gawked at the bluntness.

“ ‘Dats real rude!” Anthony only grinned.

“But it's weird.” Edward tilted his head confused.

“Why?” He couldn’t help but stare into those large round doe-like green eyes. The freckles, blonde hair and pale skin..it was all so interesting to look at. Was it because he was younger that he looked like that?

“Well I’ve met older people and they weren’t cute. But you are.” Edward smiled nervously.

“D-you can’t go sayin’ ‘dat!” The shorter was simply confused.

“Huh? Why?” Edward frowned his cheeks tinting a like pink.

“My fatha’ said it ain’t okay for boys to be goin’ around and liking boys. He don’t like it…”

“Oh…” Anthony muttered staring at the grass, as if it held the answers.

“Well, I like you!” The brunette’s face flushed a bright red.

“D-don’t be sayin’ dat!” He gawked, completely shocked. He’d never met someone like this or a boy who had said something like that.

“Well I am so there!” Edward crossed his arms.

“You very weird.” The blonde boy only grinned.

“I know. Oh-I gotta go! Bye Edward!” The boy suddenly took off running and before the brunette could question just why he’d run off, he could hear the boy's name being called by a gruff voice.

...Maybe he would see him again.

Two boys, each drastically different, it seemed as if a friendship like theirs would never work out. But somehow it did, in that small quaint town of New Orleans they seemed, by luck, to run into each other again and again. And somehow that friendship grew and they got along. They would go into the woods together and attempt to hunt or sometimes just sit around and talk about random topics.

Although only the mothers knew of the boy's friendship, and would be the one to maintain this secret friendship. Although there was a lot of bad on each of the boy’s sides, for what it was worth, when they were together things almost for those two years, were perfect.

And then those 5 years came to an end.

A soft knock came at the door but Anthony refused to look up from the floor. He heard the door open and still refused to look up. He expected to hear the booming voice of his father yelling at him, snatching up and beating him. But instead he only heard the light tapping of shoes as they got closer…

This led him to think that it was his mother who had entered his room, and so he looked up. But his eyes widened in shock, it was not his mother who was currently closing his door very quietly nor her who was smiling sadly at him right now.

“Ed!” He whispered loudly as he got up from his bed and tackled the other in a tight hug. In these two years the other male had grown a bit taller, his voice had gotten a tad deeper and he now wore glasses. But other than that, he hadn’t changed very much. The way he hesitantly passed Anthony’s shoulders before gently pushing him away only proved this.

“Are you alright?” He asked, he had begun suppressing his accent since a year ago, and although Anthony wasn’t sure why he never bothered to question it. Even if he did miss it.

Anthony nodded with glossy eyes that he tried to wipe. Edward was dressed in that blue polo again, the one they always wore in schools. Wait did he just skip school? “How did ya get in here..” Anthony whispered. Edward simply shook his head dismissing the question as unimportant.

“Why are you frowning?” Anthony wiped his eyes.

“You know why! I ain’t gonna be in New Orleans tomorrow…” It was all his father's fault, and he truly hated him for it. He had done quite a lot of horrible things but this was one of the worst. They were being forced to move back to New York just because of his father's work. Naturally he didn’t have a say so in it and, it would also be the last time he would be able to see Edward. He didn’t have a cellphone, he wasn’t allowed one and Edward was far too poor to afford one. Anthony didn’t know his new address and he didn’t want to get the other in trouble for possibly sending letters to his home.

Truly, it seemed this would be the last time they would be seeing each other.

It seemed.

And Edward knew this.

He was frowning now as he moved his thumb to wipe a stray tear from the shorter boy's face. “Don’t frown Anthony. You have a beautiful smile.” Anthony sniffled as he shook his head resting it against Edwards chest.

“I don’t wanna say goodbye to ya...you're the only person in this shit hole whose actually nice to me...everyone else sucks.” This time Edward allowed the contact, he kept his hands on Anthony’s shoulders.

“I don’t wanna say goodbye either Anthony.” He admitted quietly. He gently patted the other's head. “But there’s nothing we can do.” Once again he pushed the other away holding him at arm's length. Anthony looked up with glossy eyes once more. Edward smiled sadly, and reached into his breast pocket taking out the red handkerchief.

“Come now, a frown doesn’t suit your pretty face.” Anthony took the handkerchief and wiped his eyes free of any tears. He held it up to hand it back but the other simply shook his head. “Keep it.” This caused the corners of Anthony’s lips to tug up almost into a smile. It was that smile that Edward craved whenever they met up, whenever he saw him and whenever they said their goodbyes.

And this time was no different.

“Sbrigati, fottuto marmocchio!” The familiar gruff voice shouted from the hall in italian. Anthony’s smile vanished as did Edwards.

He sighed, suppressing the urge to cry once again. “I-I gotta go…” he muttered in a broken voice.

“Hm, I think not. Not until you smile.” Anthony looked up.

“Ed-your gonna get me in trouble. Move out of ‘da way..and..and you gotta go before you get found by my pa.” Anthony bit his lip swallowing the tears as he gestured to the locked window. He wanted to run, run away with Edward..but he knew he couldn’t. They wouldn’t survive out there, and he knew his father would find him. Running would just make it worse...besides, he refused to leave his mother and sister.

Edward only shook his head. “Not until you smile. So how can I get that to happen?” Anthony looked to his feet, only shrugging. Edward hummed lowley as he took a step forward noting to himself that he’d locked the door. He tilted Anthony’s head up and without warning leaned down and pecked his lips.

The blonde was shocked, thrown off even. The action was enough to get him to back away, the back of his hand covering his mouth. Edward only smirked, finding Anthony’s bright red face and confused green eyes that searched him, humorous.

“E-Ed what the hell! W-why did you do that.” The brunette only looked quizcally, the smirk on his lips not falling.

“Did you not like it?” Slowly the hand covering Anthony’s mouth lowered, his eyes looking anywhere that wasn’t Edward.

“.......I did.” He said quietly, almost too quiet to hear. Almost.

Edward stepped closer once more, leaned down again but stopped just an inch from Anthony’s lips. He smiled softly, and Anthony kept his eyes away even though he could feel Edwards breaths on his cheek. As he felt the others hand come up to cup his cheek he found his eyes tracing back to the brunette. Those large green doe eyes stared up into brown.

Anthony leaned up pressing his lips against Edwards and grabbing the front of his shirt, pulling him closer. Edward only tilted his head, locking his free arm around Anthony’s hips.

Time seemingly stopped for just those few minutes. And for once, Anthony felt safe and warm.

And then that moment was over.

The loud banging at the door and failed attempt to open it brought the young pair back to reality causing the brunette to quickly pull away. Angel looked up at him alarmed as he moved over to the window quickly opening it, ignoring the angry italian behind the door. He sat perched on the window ciel, the jump down wouldn’t hurt too much as long as he landed in the bushes.

He looked over to Anthony and reached his hand out. “Anthony come with me.” The blonde looked at the offered hand and slowly shook his head. “I can’t Ed...my sister. A-and what about your mom..” Edward frowned deepened as he sighed.

He leaned forward, cupping Anthony’s face and kissing him gently one last time. It was short this time, but sweet. He stared into those bright green eyes resting his forehead against the others. “....Goodbye, Anthony.”

Anthony’s eyes become glossy once more, he couldn’t help but sniffle once again. “Goodbye Edward..” he hoarse words came, and they were the last things the brunette heard before tearing himself away and jumping from the window.

“Wow that sounds like a childhood love story.” The blonde-haired girl said from Angel’s bed. He sighed leaning against his dresser. He took another hit from his joint, his eyes staring out the window and into the city of New York.

“Eh it was probably the heat of the moment.” The women hummed.

“Your an adult now, why not just move back to New Orleans and go lookin’ for him?” Angel shook his head taking another long drag from the joint, this time letting stay in for a second before blowing it out. The smoke filled the room, not that it bothered the women.

“That was 10 years ago Cherri, he’s probably long gone by now. An I don’t even remember his address let alone where he lived in New Orleans.” She laid down on his bed. “Plus I can’t. Just cause I got my own place don’t mean pa ain’t got his hooks in me still.” She frowned.

“Well, who knows...maybe you’ll meet him again someday. Loves got a way y’know?” Angel looked into the mirror, he’d grown up his features matured..freckles not as visible anymore. But most importantly, his eyes didn’t sparkle a bright green like they had back then. Sometimes he wondered if that kiss really happened, or if it was all just his imagination. Trying to make something good of a sad memory. Wanting to kiss the guy he’d developed a crush on.

Did it ever happen...or was it simply a false memory?

“Yeah….I hope so.”

But he wouldn’t get his hopes up.

He knew better.

He suppressed a sign as he leaned over and switched on the radio. He wanted to listen to something while he did his make up.

“Good morning all you listeners! Today is quite a lovely day yes indeed! A pleasure to have you all listening once again. I shall be your host for today, Alastor haha! Now let us see what dreadful things are to be had today in the city of New York!”

Angel frowned only listening to that broadcast in the background..

…..Maybe they’d meet again someday.

#radiodust #au #childhod love #alastor #angel dust #oneshots #fanfiction #alastorxangel

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hystericalweenie · 4 years

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Just Another Day at the Office Series - New On the Job

George MacKay x Reader Series

Part One: The Beginning

Masterlist

Summary: Y/f/n Y/l/n was job searching, looking for a new place to work as an escape to her, then, current job; she’d been denied every pitch she had, yet she worked her ass off with zero recognition. Writing was her passion and her dream job laid in the hands of a magazine company in the city. Will the combination of her sexual frustration and her competitive nature cause her to risk her biggest dream for a blue eyed coworker?

a/n: I have absolutely no personal experience in magazine/journalism career, so the information in this fic will be provided with the knowledge I have conducted from research. With that being said, please don’t be mad if this is not accurate!!!

Warnings: This is a slow burn fic, their relationship won’t happen in one night, so if you’re not into that, check out some of the beautifully written imagines that you can most likely find under the george mackayxreader tag. I might eventually write some of my own too :P At least one person’s saying “fuck” and there’s some sexual! tension! up! in! here!

I flattened my skirt with nervous hands in which had already clammed up with excitement. The day had finally come where I’d start my new job as print journalist at Essence, a small but ever-growing lifestyle magazine company. My heels clacked against the wood floor as I quietly greeted the receptionist before making my way into the elevator. Pressing the button with my knuckle and waiting for the doors to open, I found myself playing with the ruffled sleeves of my blouse, seeking something to pass the inevitable time in which my impatience could not handle. Once the doors had opened, I quickly slid inside—pressing the third floor button almost immediately—before taking this intermission as a chance to double-check my appearance.

I used the front camera on my phone as a mirror, as I played with my hair, making sure it fell in the same loose waves I had styled before I left my apartment that morning. I also made sure the subtle lip stain that tinted my lips was still in tact as well, making me smile in content at my reflection before putting my phone away in my purse as the elevator doors opened again, revealing my arrival to my destination. I took a left, approaching Lauren Sawyer’s office, the CEO of the company, just like I’d done for my interview. Although the rollercoaster-falling feeling in my stomach was similar to the feeling I’d had during the interview, this was a different kind of excitement; now, I actually had the job. With three knocks to her wooden door and a few seconds of the somehow-intimidating door staring back at me, she swung the door opened and smiled in realization of my presence.

“Y/n, welcome to the office!” she greeted me proudly, holding her hand out to shake.

“Officially this time,” I added with a toothy smile, grabbing her hand to reciprocate her firm shake.

“I cannot wait to show you your new desk and give you an official tour of the building!” She gushed, exiting her office and heading straight down the minute hallway to the right of the elevator, which then opened up to a wide room with multiple rows of desks.

The left wall had exposed brick with huge windows lining the whole thing, looking out to the busy streets of New York. The entire room was filled with the sounds of people typing on their keyboards, but it was the perfect welcoming for my writer’s soul.

“I want you to meet a few people before we get started,” she informed me, leading me up past rows and rows of people, taking turns staring at their computer screens and keyboards back and forth with focus written on their facial features.

She walked in between rows of people working and typing away, some looking up from their screens and glancing at the new presence. The rows consisted of tables large enough to fit about three people on each side, facing towards each other with their computers dividing them. She finally came to a stop to a woman in a floral dress and short ginger hair. She had big, black headphones sitting on her head as she stared at the screen in front of her while she typed quickly. As she finally noticed Lauren and I, she quickly grasped the headphones and tore them off of her head, a blush spreading across her cheeks.

“Sorry, I didn’t even see you guys,” she apologized with a soft voice.

“No need to apologize for being focused,” Lauren gleamed at her. She gestured her arm out to me. “This is Y/n, she’s a new print journalist.”

I stuck my hand out, which the girl gladly took into her own with a gentle shake. She looked young, looking about my age, maybe even younger.

“I’m Faith,” she introduced, before returning her delicate hand to her lap.

“Faith is another one of our print journalists. She’s been working here for about two years now, so if you have any questions, she’ll be able to answer them for you. I think you two will get along lovely,” Lauren informed me.

After introducing me to Faith, she introduced me to the other print journalists for the company, some of which I could tell took their job more seriously than others. Then, she introduced me to the editors. She walked over to a desk where a brunette male sat, seeming to be multitasking by sipping at a coffee and typing at the same time.

“This is Dean, he’s one of our sub-editors. His job is to make sure our print journalists, like you, compose work that’s grammatically and factually correct. He works closely with the art team as well, to make sure the images and words compliment each other perfectly,” she explained.

“Don’t make me sound too perfect, you know I’m always screwin’ around with George,” he joked, making Lauren roll her eyes. With this, he revealed a thick British accent, startling me.

“Sometimes I wish that sub-editors didn’t have to work so closely with the art team,” she sighed, laughing. “If you find yourself working with him, you’ll no doubt find yourself meeting George, too; I can’t seem to separate the pair, it’s like trying to separate two best friends from working on a school project together.”

“Hey, we accomplish loads together! We’re a great team, George and I,” he defended.

“He’s right,” she said in defeat, looking at me. “But I won’t admit that to him.” She winked.

After leaving the brunette to his work, she gave me a tour of the whole building before finally showing me to my desk. It sat next to the window, and there was enough individual space that I could decorate with a few things. It wasn’t ideal for my mild claustrophobia, but it was manageable. I was at least thankful I wasn’t sat in the middle of the row, with people on both sides of me.

I also ended up being sat across from Dean, the brunette sub-editor. I didn’t mind, I thought she’d actually given me an advantage, being physically close to someone I’d have to work closely with. Lauren had also informed me that there would be a meeting with the journalists and editors in an hour from then about new content ideas, which would be a good experience for me to listen to and take mental notes. About ten minutes before the meeting was scheduled to start, Dean stood up and offered me to join him for the meeting, as he figured I may have trouble remembering where the specific conference room was; I hadn’t been able to memorize the complicated large building yet, anyway. I accepted his invitation, and followed him through a hallway.

“Lauren’s kind of shit at training new people,” he confessed, leading me through the twists and turns of the building.

“I’m not even sure where to get started,” I admitted, pulling my bottom lip between my teeth.

“I’m sure one of the other writers can help you with that,” he elaborated. “I can help you with the process of sending the writing to the sub-editors, but I don’t have much knowledge about the actual writing aspect.”

He stopped in front of a door, opening it for me, revealing others I’d previously met, all sat at a long table. The table faced a whiteboard with messy handwriting already scribbled onto it. He pulled a seat out for me, making me blush and seat myself before he took a seat next to me. The head editor I’d been introduced to earlier strolled into the room alongside her PA, her assistant, who scurried over to an empty seat with a laptop. The head editor, who I’d forgotten and was reminded of her name Connie, cleared her throat before starting the meeting.

She began by explaining that they were in need of article ideas for the following weeks. She started with the beauty and fashion editors, as we all listened to them pitch ideas. It was interesting, hearing the pop culture references they were coming up with, as this had been new territory compared to my last job. Once they had come up with ideas and deadlines, she focused on the article ideas for the journalists.

Faith, the ginger-fellow-journalist, cleared her throat before speaking. “I was actually able to get in contact with one of the producers of The Bachelor, and I was thinking of conducting a Skype interview.”

“That’s wonderful! Get that interview scheduled as soon as possible and let’s talk about deadlines later,” Connie ordered, in awe of Faith’s plan.

Other journalists began speaking up, all trying to impress Connie just as much as Faith had. With the pressure and the new environment, I wasn’t able to come up with anything myself. My silence caught Connie’s attention, dragging her emerald eyes toward my shy y/e/c ones.

“I don’t expect you to come up with anything just yet, Y/n; after all, it is your first day,” she reassured me. “However, make sure you use this week to your advantage by taking notes. And, I expect a pitch from you next week.”

I nodded sharply at her instructions, before listening in on the rest of the pitches and deadline dates. She called the meeting to an end soon enough, everyone exiting the room at once in attempt to get to their keyboards as quickly as possible. I followed behind Dean quietly, mind filled with endless thoughts concluding my first meeting at Essence. Dean could sense this, as he spoke up once we’d gotten back to our desks.

“Connie can be a bit intense.” His thick British accent seeping through.

I laughed dryly. “You think?”

I began looking and reading through articles on the Essence website, taking notes. I’d made a separate document page for these specific notes, leaving specific quotations that inspired me and that I felt were important for me to remember. After reading for hours and ignoring the strain in my eyes, I was interrupted by the grumbling of my stomach. I frowned, looking at the small clock in the corner of my computer screen. It read 1:03 pm, meaning I’d missed lunch. I got up from my seat and walked over to the cafeteria, relying on my memory as navigation. The small “cafeteria” held a snack bar, a cabinet set filled with snacks and food, and other kitchen supplies like a fridge, sink, and a microwave.

I decided to make myself a salad from the snack bar and adding a side of cashews to keep me full until dinner. I brought the plate back to my desk and went on my phone, replying back to the texts my roommate had sent me throughout the morning.

“Y/n, what’s your email?”

I looked up from my phone screen and to the brunette across from me, swallowing the bits of lettuce that I’d been chewing for longer than usual.

“Just for the future,” he added to normalize his question. I nodded quickly and looked around for something to write on.

“Right, um...” I grabbed a sticky-note from my purse and scribbled my email address onto it before reaching over and handing it to him.

“Thanks,” he stuck the sticky-note onto the table next to his keyboard and resumed typing.

I turned my attention back onto my salad and my phone screen, continuing to digitally converse with my roommate. My phone buzzed with an email notification, as my head spun to my computer screen. I opened up a new tab, signing into my email in curiosity. I clicked on the new email from the email address “deanchapman7″. Opening up the email, there was a meme image with nothing else attached. I laughed out loud, bringing my hand to my mouth at the sudden reaction. I leaned over to look at him, biting back giggles, as he looked at me innocently.

“What's so funny?” he smirked.

I shook my head before searching through the memes on my phone, sending myself one of my favorites, before sending it to him. As soon as I heard his mouse click, he snorted and leaned over to look at me from his computer. I copied his previous innocent composure.

“What’s so funny?” I chewed on my lip. He rolled his eyes, before returning his blue irises back to his screen.

I brought my eyes back to my phone screen, immediately telling my roommate that I’d made a new friend already. With a finished lunch and some more note-taking, the day came to an end as I watched the sun set on the city through the window beside me; that was something I could get used to.

The next day, I had a full day of note-taking ahead of me that I couldn’t say I was looking forward to. I greeted the brunette across from me, as he sipped at his coffee and waved back at me silently, acknowledging my presence but was too caught up in his work to carry a conversation at that moment. I opened my document and pulled up some more articles and began my venture into more endless note-taking. I’d also taken a break to order a pair of Bluetooth headphones from Amazon, since most of my coworkers seemed to have them on their head while working. I wondered if they were listening to music or a podcast while working, and if so, then maybe that helped them focus.

I watched over as Dean aggressively typed across from me before groaning and covering his face with his palms. He rubbed his eyes, standing up and exiting the office, heading down one of the hallways. I bit my lip in curiosity at this sudden outburst, but returned to my work.

“Excuse me?”

I looked up across from me to see a tall man leaning against Dean’s desk, looking at me. He had dirty blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and his eyebrows seemed to be furrowed in frustration.

I cleared my throat. “Uhm, yes?”

“Have you seen Dean anywhere? I need to talk to him about something, but he hasn’t been answering my emails,” he surprised me with his British accent, matching Dean’s. Do a lot of people have British accents here?

“Uh,” I stuttered, trying to come up with words as his facial features distracted me. His hair was styled upwards, strands forming soft waves. “He just left not too long ago.” I blurted, pointing towards the hallway in which Dean had exited to.

The man sighed, running his hand through his hair and flaring his nostrils.

“When he comes back, can you tell him that George was here looking for him?”

“Yes, of course,” my voice hitting a pitch slightly higher than my normal tone. I watched as he stomped away, before stopping in his tracks and turning on his heel, facing me once again. I felt a lump in my throat as his irises scanned my face.

“Are you new here?” he asked, his previous frustration washed away as his tone sounded more innocent this time.

I nodded, trying my best not to blush under his stare.

“I started here yesterday, I’m a new print journalist,” I stated, trying to sound as professional as I could with his attention on me.

“I’m George, I’m Dean’s mate; I’m the art director here.” He leant forward onto Dean’s desk again, sticking out his hand for me to shake it.

So that’s George. I grabbed his hand and gave it a delicate shake, watching as he maintained eye contact for a moment before letting go.

“Judging where he left, I’m thinking he went to go find me,” George laughed, running another hand through his hair and resting the other on his hip. I stared at his navy blue button up, which fit him just right, and his slacks. My eyes traveled to his belt before quickly looking away and mentally cursing myself for looking at him so intimately.

“He seemed upset when he left,” I admitted, recalling his groan and the way he’d put his face in his hands.

“Ah,” George clicked his tongue. “That would be my fault. Well, not my fault, but the contents in my email regarding one of the picture editors. Long story short, someone fucked up and it interferes with his deadline. Poor bastard.”

“Jesus, that doesn't sound good,” I chewed on my lip, not quite sure what to say, but wanting to carry on the conversation.

He laughed, flashing a smile I wish I hadn’t seen, because it made him even more attractive. I was practically jelly in my chair at his point.

“Yeah, we’ll get it sorted out; we always do,” he confessed with a closed-lip smile. “Well, it was nice seeing you...”

“Y/n,” I introduced with a sheepish smile.

“Y/n,” he corrected himself. “Tell Dean I was lookin’ for him?”

I nodded. “Will do, as long as he’s not still pissed off; that was kind of scary.”

He laughed again, crinkles by his eyes appearing.

“Dean? Scary? Bloke’s a teddy bear!” he exclaimed. “Dean wouldn’t hurt a fly. He just gets overwhelmed sometimes, but what sub-editor doesn’t?”

I smiled at his comparison between Dean and a teddy bear. George was right, the brunette seemed extremely kind. I thought back to the day before, when he’d asked me for my email address to send me a meme. Suddenly, Dean appeared from the hallway he'd disappeared into earlier, widening his eyes at George.

“Where the bloody hell have you been?!” Dean exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, mate!”

“As have I,” George responded, a lot more calmly. “I met your new desk mate too, by the way, she's lovely.”

I could feel my cheeks turning scarlet at that point due to his compliment. His accent extended the weight of his words, and I knew there was no way I didn’t look like a tomato. Dean looked over to me and sent me a smile.

“Sorry about this idiot,” he glared at his friend, who rolled his eyes playfully.

“Let’s go to my office,” George suggested.

And with that, the boys took off toward the elevator. I watched as they walked together, backs turned towards me, before George turned his head to me for a moment, looking at me one last time before they disappeared. I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath before I was practically gasping for air. My hands went to my cheeks, which to my expectations, were on fire. I pinched the bridge of my nose, frustrated with my cheeks habitually turning red every time I was in the least bit embarrassed.

I looked across from me at Dean’s empty desk, where George had been leaning against, looking at me, just minutes ago. I chewed on my bottom lip, remembering the way his hair looked, the way his hand felt, the way his eyes bore into mine. I had to pinch myself to discontinue the thoughts, remembering that I was at my job. He’s probably slept with every woman in this office, I thought to myself. That thought made me sick, sick enough to quiet my thoughts about him and resume my work. It wasn’t possible for a man that handsome to be such a gentlemen, there had to be something nasty about him. With the effect he had on me, I wondered if he used his charm on other girls in order to get them to sleep with him. That had to be it, right? I hoped that I wouldn’t be seeing him again anytime soon, not sure what I’d do and what thoughts I’d have again. But a small part of me, deep down, begged to see him again.

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #x reader fic #dean charles chapman #1917 #fanfic

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