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ditch-witches · 4 years ago

Note

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

pairing: Dean Charles Chapman x reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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propertyofwicked · 5 years ago

Note

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

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

a-z of dating george mackay

a - argue

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

b - body (his favourite body part of yours)

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

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

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

d - dates (what do you guys do?)

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

e - engagements (how he proposed)

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

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

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

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

g - gifts

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

h - how you met

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

“um, hi. i’m george.”

“hi?”

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

i - intimacy (how often are yall getting down)

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

j - jealousy

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

k - kinks

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

l - long distance

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

m - moving in

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

n - nights out

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

o - open with each other

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

p - pda

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

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

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

r - reproduction (do you want kids?)

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

s - surprising (what surprised you about him)

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

t - together (what you do together)

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

u - under the influence (drunk vibes)

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

v - vacations

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

w - wedding

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

x - xray (when he’s hurt)

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

y - you (a random headcanon)

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

z - zzzzzzzzzzzz’s (sleeping routine)

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

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

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mydemimonde · 4 years ago

Text

𝙢𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

✎ = still writing

⚘ BEN HARDY

▪ Ben dating a latina (headcanon)

▪ Making out with Ben (headcanon)

▪ ‘Early Christmas Gift’ (one shot)

▪ ‘Marathon’ (one shot) (+18)

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

▪ ‘Happy New Year’ (one shot) (+18)

▪ ‘Make love to me’ (one shot) (+18)

⚘ DEAN-CHARLES CHAPMAN

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

⇢ Chapter 1

⇢ Chapter 2

⇢ Chapter 3

⇢ Chapter 4

⇢ Chapter 5

⇢ Chapter 6

⇢ Chapter 7

⇢ Chapter 8

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

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a-skeleton-of-something-m0re · 4 years ago

Text

Cockney Kisses

Warnings: Smut, smoking.

Word count: 4,298

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[...]

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

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

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

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

(*)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(*)

[...]

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

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

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

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

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

[...]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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blueeyedheizer · 5 years ago

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A Little Light - Blake & Schofield x reader

WARNINGS: x

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What is her name?" Blake continued.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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georgemackayhey · 5 years ago

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Lean On Me

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

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

w/c: 5k

───※ ·❆· ※───

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

___

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

___

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

___

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

___

"That's a wrap for today!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

___

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your tea went cold that night.

___

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

___

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

___

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

___

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

___

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

───※ ·❆· ※───

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

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heffrcns · 5 years ago

Text

dating dean-charles chapman would include:

this wasn’t requested, but dean needs more love!! so this is my attempt so get some content out there for this beautiful man :,)

warnings: kinda smutty towards the end, but i’ll warn you beforehand!

he’d be the cheekiest but sweetest guy e v e r

the two of you could get into laughing fits about god knows what wherever you were, regardless of who’s around you

you’d also have so many inside jokes that sometimes people think you’re talking gibberish to each other

he’d have so many small gestures that made you heart explode

like he’d play with your hair whenever you lay on his chest or lap

cute things like hugging you from behind when you’re just in the kitchen or something, going about your business,

playing with your hands when you were sitting watching movies, or even sometimes when you out for drinks with friends

and he’d pat your bum lightly when you’re in queues, silently letting you know you needed to shuffle forward

whenever you were both walking around, he’d have his hand in yours pretty much constantly

and sometimes you’d put a hand in one of his back pockets, so he’d have an arm around you waist

and he loved it

he’d also have your favourite orders from coffee shops memorised, so the first time he ordered for you without asking (and got it right) you could’ve married him on the spot

he could also read you like a book

whenever you weren’t feeling 100%, he could tell and he’d be prepared to cheer you up no matter what it took

takeaway and movie night? you got it

a soak in the bath and cuddles? he’s already running the bath

or sometimes, when you simply needed a bit of space, he’d give you that too

he’d just be so in tune with you and your emotions, that made you realise how lucky you were to have him

and he thought he was the luckiest man alive to have you, too

okay, smutty ahead:

he’d also be the BEST in bed, okay?

again: the cheekiest but sweetest - it still applies

you’d both be a giggling mess, and you wouldn’t want it any other way

but he could make your laugh turn into a moan in seconds, he’s that good

and he’d never ever pressure you into anything - he’d ask “are you sure, baby?” at least 5 times before you even start going at it

and he’d cater to your every need

seeing your in pleasure was his first priority, even above getting off himself

but of course, you were more than happy to help him with that one ;)

dean is just,, *chefs kiss* mWAH

thank you for reading! and i hope you all liked it, the dean content out there is a too low for my liking :(

#dean charles chapman #thomas blake #1917 #dean charles chapman imagine #dean charles chapman x reader #dean-charles chapman

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plasticdean · 4 years ago

Photo

stone cold - chapter 4

recruitment

mob!dean-charles chapman au warnings: language, mentions of drug use word count: 2.3k series masterlist

Justin has been added to the character list so check that out before you read this chapter!

I didn’t really have many friends growing up. Not a lot of parents were crazy about their kids hanging out with Leo Stone’s son. You really couldn’t blame them for that, my dad is a fucking psycho.

Justin Martinez was my childhood best friend. My mom and his mom were best friends when they were teenagers and as soon as they had kids of their own, they wanted us to have the same friendship they did. However, when we were both six, Justin’s mom died of breast cancer which hit my mom hard, she wasn’t herself for a long time.

After her death, Justin had to move in with his dad who lived in Brooklyn which was around an hour away. Mom would usually drive me there and drop me off to stay the night but after her death, I’d have whatever nanny I had for the time being do it.

Justin’s dad was an asshole; not as much as my dad was but he was definitely up there. He was a drunk junkie and an abusive asshole that spent his days mooching money off of Justin’s mom’s side of the family and saying it was to “help take care of him” and sticking needles in different parts of his body. None of his time was spent taking actual good care of his son and none of the money he’d get was used for Justin.

As I grew up, I grew protective of him. I wasn’t afraid to call his dad a piece of shit to his face, or even throwing in a punch, knocking him out cold. It didn’t really take much to knock out someone that’s drunk or high, or both. One good hit will have them hit the ground so fast and passed out for a couple of hours.

I don’t know if it was because I couldn’t defend myself like that with my own dad and being able to help someone that went through the shit I did kind of comforted me in some kind of way. Or, maybe it was just because, in the words of my father, “I’m a fucking psycho”.

Whatever it was, I didn’t care, just as long as he was okay.

Justin’s dad ended up going to prison for 15 years for second-degree robbery when we were both 15. After this, he ended up moving away to Massachusetts to live with his aunt and uncle who were loaded with money.

Having to say goodbye to my best friend and my only friend really fucking sucked but I was happy for him, he deserved to have a chance at having a good life and be surrounded by family that loved him and cared for him.

After moving, he never tried to get in touch with me. He’d either send me short messages or just ignore me. He never tried to call, never answered my calls, and never made plans with me to visit or for me to visit him. I could understand though, once you move away from your toxic life and start a new one that’s actually not shitty, you never wanna go back.

It sucked to not feel needed anymore but it fucking sucked even more to lose what you needed.

_______________

My hands felt clammy, the collar of my dress shirt felt like it was choking me, and my leg couldn’t stop bouncing.

“Can you roll the window down?” I ask my driver from the backseat.

He rolls it down as one of my guards that’s sitting next to me looks at me with concern, “You okay boss?”

Boss. This dude was like 20 years older than me. Hell would have to freeze over before I’d call anyone younger than me “boss”.

I nod and stick my head out of the window just a little bit, “Yeah, I’m just hot.”

I was on my way to the “meeting” my father wanted me to have with one of his workers at the warehouse that our shipments of “goods” went out of. Since this was about missing money, I’m guessing this meeting is gonna be exactly like the one on the yacht. At least this time I wouldn’t have my dad and grandpa breathing down my neck and judging me for every fucking move I make.

I can’t lie and say that I’m not nervous, of course, I am, I’m human. There’s nothing wrong with it as long as I didn’t show that, when you start showing signs in any way that you’re not confident, people will automatically get the upper hand on you.

I ran through the plan on what I was going to do when I found the guy. Maybe act all buddy buddy to him and then just go all serious and scare the shit out of him until he gives me an answer? Or maybe just start it by beating the shit out of him and ask questions after?

I was taken away from my thoughts as the large warehouse came into view. I let out a deep breath before getting out of the car as it stopped right in front of the building, my men followed me into the entrance doors.

I approached the first worker I saw, “Is there a Justin that works here?”

He makes eye contact with me, his eyes slightly widen as he realizes who I am, “Uh yes sir, do you want me to get him or show you where he is?”

“Bring him to me, one of my men will go with you to get him then bring him to me. I’ll be out on the docks down at the water,” I say before turning around and walking out, down the hill to the water.

My two other men stood by my side as I waited for the guy to be brought out. I put my hand on my holster to prepare for any case where the guy comes out with guns blazing.

My heart was beginning to pound harder than it was in the car. I really should’ve smoked a cigarette first before I decided to just eagerly barge into the warehouse. I was just really ready to get this over with.

As I was internally fighting with myself on if I should just say fuck it and pull out a cigarette, two figures came down the hill. I recognized my guard as one of them and the other one was a bit smaller.

I fixed my posture and clenched my jaw as I gripped the handle of the gun that was still in the holster that was attached to my hip. I had a hard grip on it for maybe 15 seconds before I froze in place.

My heart began pounding faster than before, I could feel myself getting hot as I slowly began to recognize the figure that was next to my guard.

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

The look of confidence I attempted was completely wiped away. My guard stood off to the side as I stared at the approaching figure with wide eyes and my mouth slightly open.

“Hey, Dean.”

Justin fucking Martinez.

There he was, right in front of me, seven years older. He looks so different but somehow still the same. He was the same height as me and had the same face full of freckles but had facial hair and he seemed to carry himself in a way I can’t explain.

7 years is a lot of time and while everyone changes in that amount of time, he was different. He wasn’t that same vulnerable, scared, angry kid he was when we were friends.

He looked like he has been through shit but still carried himself with confidence and looked fearless.

He was attractive.

“You work here?” I ask, finally being able to find the words to speak.

He smirked, “You mean I work for you? Yeah, I do.”

As I go to speak he cuts me off, “No, your dad doesn’t know that I work here. He really wasn’t involved with the hiring process here. He has people for that. Or should I say had since they’re your people now.”

I was confused by his monotone voice yet playful look he had on his face. I don’t know if it’s the shock of seeing him again or the fact that I was about to have a “meeting” with my childhood best friend that made me feel so tense and uncomfortable but I knew he could tell I was. He automatically had the upper hand.

I sigh and look away from him for the first time since I saw him, “Listen, Justin, I’m just gonna ask you straight up.”

I look back at him, staring straight into his dark brown eyes, “Did you take money from us?”

He frowns and puts his hands in his pocket, he’d do that when he was nervous, maybe I had the upper hand now.

He shook his head and shrugged, “Why would I steal from you?”

“You didn’t steal from me, you stole from my dad.”

“Then why are you here?”

“Because-”

“Because your dad told you to? So you’re still listening to that asshole, even when you’re the one who’s supposed to be in charge?”

I had to stop and take a second to think about what he said. He wasn’t wrong, my father was making me clean up his messes or do his dirty work for him when it’s me that owns all of this.

“Guys, can you give us some time to talk alone? I’ll be fine,” I said to all my guards. They gave me an unsure look before nodding and walking back up the hill where they can still see me but can give me the privacy I needed.

“Just tell me, did you steal money? I’m not gonna kill you over it or anything like that. I just wanna know,” I asked lowly.

Justin sighed and looked out at the water, shaking his head, “I needed the money.”

I close my eyes and sigh. Why Justin, why?

“Before you freak the fuck out, just listen to me, please?” He begs.

I nod before sitting down on the edge of the dock, swinging my legs slightly as I look down at the dark waters below me.

Justin sits down next to me and sighs, “I won’t lie, life was pretty fucking great when I first moved to Massachusetts.”

Ow.

“I mean, not having you there felt really fucking weird and it sucked. I do still feel like an asshole for completely ghosting you cause shit, you were all I had after my mom died. But I was 15, I found a new group of friends, who were complete douchebags. Like seriously, the old me and you would’ve beat the shit out of them,” Justin and I chuckle at the same time, remembering how brutal we were to the arrogant assholes we went to school with.

“Anyways, after I graduated, things just went downhill. My uncle was a fucking prick and kicked me out because “his father kicked him out when he was 18 and it taught him so many things in life so he wanted the same for me” and all that shit but they fucking knew I had nothing planned out which, I will admit, it’s my fault but holy fuck they didn’t even give me time to try and get my shit together. They just threw me out and wouldn’t let me back in. So, because I was basically homeless, I got into the wrong crowd and just got into drugs and alcohol, just like my piece of shit sperm donor. But, one night I just got completely fucked and I ended up having to go to the hospital to get my stomach pumped which, of course, put me in rehab. Dean, the fucking place I went to was so fucking weird and shit but it helped me find a sponsor who basically acts as my babysitter just in case I almost relapse. And because of him, I got this job a little over a year ago.”

A YEAR ago?

“Wait, you’ve been working here for over a year and never thought to just try and get ahold of me?” I ask offended.

Justin chuckled, “Honestly, I thought you would’ve been out of here when you turned 18.”

Fuck, I wish.

“I should’ve but I just can’t go without figuring out what happened to my mom,” I say with a sigh.

“Yeah, I don’t blame you. But I swear Dean, I only took money to pay rent, I was so fucking behind that they were about to evict me and-”

“Justin it’s fine, I don’t give a shit about what you took from my dad,” I say with a smirk.

He lets out a sigh of relief and jokingly wipes his forehead, “Thank god. I’m not gonna lie Dean, you have gotten intimidating as fuck,” he exclaims.

I laugh and shake my head, “I have been learning from my wonderful father and grandpa.”

Justin rolls his eyes, “Fuck them. You are so much better and smarter than them. I hope you take this bullshit business from them and drive it straight into the fucking ground.”

As soon as he said that my plan instantly came into my thoughts. Justin is the only person on this earth that I have always trusted and that I know will always have my back. He could help me with it and greatly benefit from it.

I turn my head to face him, grinning slightly.

Justin faces me and smirks, “Uh oh, I know that look. What are you planning?”

I stand up and adjust my jacket as I look down at him, his dark eyes already focused on me, “I’m gonna take the business, but, I’m gonna drive them straight into the fucking ground…and I want you to help me.”

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