#George Mackay smut
Text
early morning ~ will schofield;1917
word count: 2203
request?: yes!
@lilah1020: “Imagine Will schofield fluffy smut with wife reader”
description: on a rare occasion when they wake up before their children, they decide to take advantage of the time to be intimate
pairing: will shofield x female!reader
warnings: swearing, smut (oral - f receiving, unprotected p in v, praising, dirty talk)
masterlist (one, two, three)
Having two children - especially two young children at that - meant very little “alone time”. The girls were usually the first ones awake in the house, and thus would run into their parents’ room to wake them up. Between work, house chores, and looking after the kids, there wasn’t much time for Will and (Y/N) to be alone. And by the end of the night, when the kids were bathed and in bed, they were just too tired for any form of physical intimacy.
It was hard. Not that either of them thought they needed physical intimacy for their marriage to work. After their oldest daughter was born, they knew sex was going to be few and far between, and they definitely knew that’s how it would be after their second daughter was born. They were aware of it, and they were more than okay with that sacrifice at first. But the complete lack of sex had been hard for both of them.
It was a rare morning where (Y/N) wasn’t woken by a tiny body jumping on her. Her eyes slowly blinked until the sleep was completely out of them. The room was quiet. In fact, the whole house was quiet. No small voices yelling, no hushed voices beside her as Will tried to convince the girls to let their mother sleep. Nothing. Just silence.
(Y/N) rolled over to see Will sleeping peacefully beside her. She smiled as she looked at his handsome face. Every day she thought to herself about how lucky she was to have him; how lucky she was to have their little family.
As if sensing her eyes on him, Will slowly stirred. He opened one eye, then smiled as he closed it again. “Good morning, love.”
“Good morning,” she responded.
“Where are the girls?”
“Still asleep.”
Will had stretched his arms out, but paused after hearing her response. “Really?”
(Y/N) nodded. “Listen.”
They both paused, taking in the silence of the house. Will looked shocked at the revelation. “They’re asleep? They actually are not awake before us for once?”
(Y/N) giggled and nodded again. “I guess they were really tired after last night.”
The night before, the Schofields had been to a neighborhood celebration that included a barbecue and fireworks to end the night. Will and (Y/N) had let the girls stay up late so they could enjoy the festivities. By the time they got home, the adrenaline (and the sugar) from the night was finally wearing off and, within seconds, they were asleep.
Seemed it was enough to keep them asleep past their usual wake up time.
Will looked like he was still trying to understand the fact that his daughters were actually still asleep. (Y/N) was still pretty shocked herself. She was almost convinced that she was dreaming, and she would soon actually be woken up by her two energetic daughters.
“Love,” Will said.
“Yes, darling?” (Y/N) responded.
Will took her face in his hands and pulled her into a kiss. It was passionate and needy from the moment their lips met. (Y/N) took hold of Will’s shirt, clenching the material between her fists as she held him to her. One of his hands moved from her face to slip under the night shirt she was hearing. When his hand touched her bare skin, it ignited her. It left a fiery, tingling feeling in his wake. One that trailed down her body and between her legs. She was yearning for him. She needed him so desperately, just from kissing and a few gentle touches.
Will slowly laid (Y/N) on her back, his lips still attached to hers. When he pulled away, she tried to follow him. He chuckled and eased her back down on the bed. He moved to her neck, kissing the soft area all over until he found the spot that made her whimper. He kept his focus on that spot, sucking and biting until he was sure he had left marks. He pushed up her night gown to expose her breasts. She gasped as he put his mouth to one of them, circling her nipple with his tongue. His hand fondled her other breast, rolling the nipple until it was hard and pointed, then took that one in his mouth as well.
A moan slipped from her lips. She quickly covered her mouth as Will’s mouth let go of her breast to shush her.
“Sorry,” she said in a whisper. She put her hand back over her mouth as his kissing continued downwards.
He left wet, open mouth kisses over her stomach and down towards her mound. Her breath hitched and a muffled whimper came from around her hand at the feeling of his hot breath against her already dripping wet pussy. Desperation was rising within her. She was so close to begging for him to touch her, she didn’t even care how he’d do it. She just needed to feel him, to have him pull that release from her again like he always knew how to. But she didn’t have to beg, because he wasted no time in attaching his lips to her clit.
A gasp ripped from (Y/N)’s lips, her hand moving away from her mouth to grab hold of Will’s hair. She gently tugged it by accident, but it earned her a moan from him. The vibration from it sent shockwaves through her body. She bit down on her bottom lip to try and keep her moans quiet, but it felt almost impossible. She hadn’t felt this good in a long time, and it was hard to not let that out. His tongue against her felt heavenly as he licked long stripes from her pussy to the tip of her clit.
“F-Fuck,” (Y/N) whispered. “God, Will, that feels so fucking good.”
Will peered up at his beautiful wife, writhing in pleasure above him. Her eyes were shut and her head was thrown back, with one hand in his hair and the other gripping the sheets beneath her. She looked angelic, and her quiet noises of pleasure definitely sounded like they were coming straight from a heavenly angel. He wanted to be inside her desperately. He needed to feel her warm walls around his throbbing hard cock. But he wanted to make her feel good first, because he wasn’t sure how long he’d last once he was inside her.
“Are you close, love?” he asked her, continuing to stroke her clit with his thumb while his mouth was absent. She nodded, her eyes still tightly shut. “Look at me, my love.”
She managed to force her eyes open to look down at Will. He smiled at her face, already fucked out and he hadn’t even fucked her yet.
“Cum for me, my love,” he coaxed. “Cum for me and I’ll give you what you want.”
The minute his mouth pressed against her again, she did exactly as he requested. Her head fell back onto the pillow again, and she quickly clapped a hand over her mouth as the pleasure tore through her. Will lapped at her pussy, taking every last drop of her juices as if he needed it to survive. Her body trembled so violently that she wasn’t sure it would ever stop.
Her head was fuzzy, in a good way. She felt like she was on cloud nine as Will kissed up her body again. He placed a sweet yet passionate kiss against her lips. She could taste herself on his mouth, which just turned her on again.
Will stood from the bed just long enough to pull his boxers off and kick them to the side. (Y/N) all but yanked him back to the bed when his lower half was naked. His hard cock pressed against her thigh as his lips found hers again. Her hips bucked in an attempt to gain some friction between them.
Will chuckled. “Impatient thing, aren’t you?”
“We don’t have long,” she reminded him. “And you promised to give me what I wanted.”
“You’re right, I did promise that.” His tip nudged her entrance, earning him another gasp. “And I intend on keeping that promise.”
He pushed into her slowly, letting both of them feel every inch of his cock filling her up. He kissed her, letting his mouth swallow her moans. He lowered himself so he was pressing against her as much as he could without crushing her, resting his elbows on either side of her head.
“You feel so good,” he mumbled against her lips. “I almost forgot how good this pussy felt.”
“Please, Will,” she begged. “Make love to me.”
He kissed her. “You don’t have to beg, love. I’ll give you exactly what you want.”
When he slowly pulled his hips back and thrust them forward at the same pace, (Y/N) could’ve swore she saw stars. It was the simplest movement, but it brought so much pleasure that it made her head spin. She grabbed at his shoulders to try to ground herself.
“You’re so beautiful,” Will whispered as he continued his slow thrusts. “God, I’ve missed seeing you like this. You’re so gorgeous when you’re all wrapped around my cock like this.”
Her only response was another moan. Will decided not to quiet her this time. He missed hearing these sounds. He wished he could record them to have with him whenever he was away from her.
He kissed her, sweetly. As if he was giving her a good morning kiss and wasn’t buried deep inside of her.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you, too,” she responded. It was the only coherent thought in her head. “I love you so much. Fuck, Will.”
“Do you feel good, my love?” She nodded. “Do you think you could cum one more time for me? I promise I’ll fill you up after.”
She nodded again. Will reached between them and started rubbing circles against her clit as his thrusts started picking up. (Y/N) barley had time to register her orgasm before it was already upon her. Will pressed his lips roughly against hers to stop her loud cries of pleasure. Feeling her tightening around him made him cum shortly after she did, his thrusts stilling so he could fill her up like he promised.
They weren’t sure how long they were tangled together, coming down from their climaxes. All concepts of life outside of this moment was lost on them. They just knew the lightheaded feeling of post-orgasm bliss. Will was pressing kisses against (Y/N)’s neck and jaw. She sighed, content to stay this way as long as possible.
Which, unfortunately for them, did not last nearly long enough.
The creaking of a door alerted them first. Their daughters’ bedroom door had always made a noise when it opened. Will had been saying for as long as they could remember that he would fix the door, but had never gotten around to it. Now it seemed to be their saving grace, the only indication that they had mere seconds before two little girls ran into their room.
Will pulled out of (Y/N) and tumbled onto the floor. (Y/N) stifled her laugh at his pained expression as she fixed her night shirt, covering the sticky mess between her legs. Will frantically grabbed for his boxers and pulled them back on just as the two girls rounded the corner and into the room. Their youngest daughter immediately jumped into bed, while their oldest looked at their father in concern.
“Daddy, why are you on the floor?” she asked.
“I - uh - I fell out of bed,” Will responded. “Got all tangled in the sheets as I was trying to get up and fell right off.”
“Daddy is a little clumsy this morning,” (Y/N) added.
“Is it because you were up so late last night?” the youngest girl asked.
Will nodded. “Yes. Yes, it’s definitely because of last night.
Their oldest got onto the bed with (Y/N). (Y/N) put both arms around her girls and pulled them close to her, kissing them on top of their heads.
“You both slept in pretty late,” she said.
“Because we stayed up late,” the youngest said. “Like grown ups do.”
“Don’t get used to it,” (Y/N) said. “You’re not growing up any time soon. In fact, I’ve decided that you’ll both be my little girls forever.”
Both girls started to speak at the same time, protesting their mother’s decision. Will chuckled as he leaned across the bed to also kiss his daughters.
“What do you girls say we head downstairs and start making breakfast? Let mummy get herself cleaned up for the day.”
He shot her a look that made her face heat up. The girls agreed and bounded out the door again before Will could follow them. He and (Y/N) shared a look before chuckling. Will leaned in to kiss (Y/N) one more time before reluctantly tearing away from her and their bed.
“I’m keeping them up until midnight tonight,” he said as he started walking out the door. “Maybe then I’ll have you all to myself tomorrow morning.”
#will schofield#will schofield imagine#will schofield x reader#will schofield smut#george mackay#george mackay imagine#george mackay x reader#george mackay smut#1917#imagine#one shot#smut#request#fanfiction#fanfic#fandom
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request guidelines
hello everyone! here are are my request guidelines, just to clarify any of your possible future requests. not many rules, just clarifications:)
genres:
genres that i write:
angst (i love angst, however love to end it with some fluff or an open ending)
fluff (absolutely love!)
smut (i haven’t ever written smut, so any first time smut requests may not describe everything graphically but more so implied or be suggestive. i will try my best as i explore and get used to this genre)
one shots (i have no problems and love)
series (i sometimes have commitment issues but at the same time have to finish everything off, so i might write a shorter series and then during any holidays and free time, i might start writing a longer one; i already am planning one)
headcannons (absolutely love and find them so cute and fun to write)
plot request:
i have no problems with whatever you want to request, i will make a prompt list, if you would like to use it, but if you want also song-inspired pieces or just normally you have something interesting, send it and i’ll be excited to write it!
characters/people i write for:
now, the most important part: who do i write for? i will first state, who i will definitely write for in the list below:
F1 drivers (though mainly younger drivers, however i can make the exception if i’m in the mood or really like the request)
harry potter and fantastic beasts (mainly newt scamander and cedric diggory, however honestly i don’t mind any of the characters except for draco malfoy lol)
celebrities (i have a couple ideas for austin butler, robert pattinson, eddie redmayne and george mackay, and will take any requests with celebrities that i enjoy/know of/am comfortable with)
1917 (2019 movie) (mainly william schofield but if anyone requests tom blake, will gladly write one)
miscellaneous (i’m a big fan of: hunger games, mainly finnick odair; star wars; little women; queen’s gambit)
but in all honesty, if you have a character or person you want me to write for, just request them and i’ll see if i know them or the movie and try to write for them:)
schedule:
i may not get to your request immediately as my schedule right now is very erratic, but do not feel like you shouldn’t request anything
where to request:
just check out my blog and at the top you will find my request box!
anonymity:
feel comfortable to request anonymously or not, there is an option to click if you want to:)
#request guidelines#f1 requests#harry potter requests#fantastic beasts requests#1917 requests#max verstappen requests#charles leclerc requests#lando norries requests#george russell requests#daniel ricciardo requests#newt scamander requests#cedric diggory requests#pierre gasly requests#austin butler requests#eddie redmayne requests#robert pattinson requests#george mackay requests#finnick odair requests#max verstappen#charles lecrelc#lando norris#george russell#daniel ricciardo#pierre gasly#newt scamander#cedric diggory#austin butler#eddie redmayne#george mackay#robert pattinson
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Let's Play A Game. CH.5
A/N: I'm so sorry this took so long, but enjoy the smut.
@neocil @cjand10 @queen-bunnyears
He’d watched me all night, every move I made, from moving the fork from the container of chow mien to bringing it to my lips, his eyes never left me. As the red wine I’d drunk spilled out the side of my mouth and ran down my neck, he watched me.
“Something wrong?” I finally asked him when he’d groaned for the sixth time in the last hour as I reached up above me into the cupboard to return the dishes to their home after I’d spent the last fifteen minutes meticulously washing them.
“You.” He said simply.
“I’m wrong?” I grabbed another plate moving to my tippy-toes to put it back. As I reached I heard the chair scratch against the floor as he stood up. “I didn’t think I’d done anything wrong.”
“Really.” He was behind me now, his front pressing into my back as he took the plate from between my fingers and put it on the upper shelf. “Because from where I’m standing,” His hand dropped to my shoulder, running down until his fingers clasped around my wrist. “I can see how you are moving now, and all I can see is how you were moving last night.” Game, set, match.
“Oh,” I shrugged. “Is that all.” I moved my body, shuffling around in the small space he’d left me. “I thought you had some serious mental illness that was making you verbally react to every tiny thing I’d done throughout dinner.” I looked up at him a bright smile on my face. “I’m glad to know you’re all there,” I tapped a finger on the side of his head, just below his temple. “Well,” I shrugged. “As far as we know.” I drug my finger drown the side of his jaw.
“Cheeky,”
“Honest.” I slipped out under his arm and walked towards my bedroom. “I’m going to bed, can you please turn off the lights before you sleep on the couch.”
“Honeybird, I won’t be sleeping on the couch,” I snorted pushing the door open, as I turned back to look at him.
“If that’s what you really think,” I walked to the bed and slipped under the covers laying in the centre of the bed. I turned on the small radio by my bed to distract myself as my heart began beating erratically as I heard him shuffle about in the kitchen. The tink of the wine glass against the counter top. The muffle of his jacket as he stripped it off and threw it over the chairs. Then the sound of his feet tapping against the floor as he walked towards my bedroom.
“Move over Honeybird. You’re hogging the bed.”
“This isn’t the couch.”
“I know.” The cool air nipped at my skin as he lifted my quilt. “Don’t wanna move,” I felt the bed dip as he slid in beside me. “Look’s like we’re snuggling then,” His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me into his chest.
I hated how his hand on the bare skin on my hip made my heart beat faster.
“Hastings,” I wiggled trying to push his body off mine. “You need to leave me alone and get to the couch,”
“There’s no way to treat your boyfriend, is it?”
“I don’t know, let me go get one and I’ll let you know.”
“Are you saying I’m not your boyfriend.”
“I can’t believe this is how my night is ending.” I groaned from my spot on the bed. Long gone was the warmth the wine had provided me, now I was beginning to feel the cool chill of the night that had begun to settle, and I wasn’t sure if it was the remnants of the wine or if it were Hasting’s words that were beginning to make my cheeks flush against the chill of the room.
“I love this song,” Five hundred miles by the Proclaimers cut through the air. “When I wake up, well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who wakes up next to you.” Hastings sung softly his fingers drawing on my skin. “But I would walk five-hundred miles, and I would walk five-hundred more.” I let a laugh slip out, beyond entertained by the man in my bed, not that I’d ever tell him that. “See a good song.” He pushed some of my hair behind my ear as he continued to sing. “I remember when Johnny D’aleno broke your heart in eight grade and every time I saw you for two months after you were singing this song.”
“I was,” I nodded my head knowing where this story was heading.
“Until me,”
“Until you.” I reluctantly agreed. Praying for my brain to not relive the memories.
“You still mad at him?”
“Who Johnny?” He nodded his head. “Can I even be?” I was fourteen at the time and Johnny was the cutest boy in my grade, but of course every girl wanted him. “Should I be? I knew it would never happen, even at that age.”
“Even if you know it’s coming, you’re never prepared for it, and that.” Hastings let out a soft low whistle. “Your first heart break…” He shook his head. “I know how it feels,”
“What girl would be stupid enough to hurt the Jude Hastings?” His finger dragged over my hip again, slipping his finger underneath the waist band of my panties. “Hastings?”
“Bianca Phillips.” He conceded. “We dated,”
“I remember.” They’d dated for two years until they suddenly broke up, shocking most of our class. “But no one ever knew why,”
“I found her making out in the art room with my best-friend.”
“Jason?” I gasped.
“No, Leah.”
“Leah! What a total dick she was.” Hastings laughed, nodding his head.
“She couldn’t help it, neither of them could.”
“So she was… They both…”
“Yeah.”
“And she never thought to tell you?”
“What? That she was interested in pussy?”
“Well, I wouldn’t have put it quiet like that.”
“I would.”
“Would Hastings from sophomore year put it that way, or would current working professional Jude Hastings put it another way?”
“We both would.” I grabbed onto his hand, stopping it’s movements against my skin.
“Well, sophomore Hastings, I’m sorry that happened to you.” The song began to change as he shrugged his shoulders, the sheet covering his torso slipping down.
“Dance with me.” He whispered as the intro to Ed Sheeran’s Give me love began to play through the small radio.
“What?” Hastings sat up, pulling himself up and chucking his legs over the side of my bed.
“Dance with me.”
“Hastings, I’m tired, and wine drunk I need to sleep.”
“Dance with me, Darcy,” I looked between his outstretched hand and where he stood. “C’mon Darcy, it’s just one dance.”
“What if it isn’t?” I whispered, worried to speak any louder, incase I’d break whatever spell Jude Hastings was trying to put on me.
“And what if it is?” He flashed another of his heartbreaking grins, the kind that would have made sophomore Darcy crash and burn harder than Johnny had. “Be brave, Ali.” The use of the old nickname he’d bestowed upon me in our early childhood made my heart flutter so much that I found myself offering him my hand and allowing him to pull me out of the bed and up to my feet. He pulled me into his bare chest, his left hand holding onto my right, the other wrapping around my waist. My free hand wound itself around his neck, holding on tightly, I knew I was afraid to let go…
It’s the wine, Darcy. Not Jude Hastings.
It is the fucking wine.
We swayed back and forth, my head finding it’s own way to rest on his shoulder, allowing the exposed skin on my neck to his outwards breaths.
“No, I just wanna hold ya.” Hastings sung quietly as we swayed back and forth to the music.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity fuck.
What was happening? I, Darcy Alice Edwards cannot be feeling anything. If anything this is just my brain malfunctioning because this is what every single rom-com has told me I need, what I want a man to do for me, but this was Jude Hastings, and I couldn’t want this… I did not want this.
But why did it have to be so nice?
Fuck a duck.
I couldn’t deny it, that dancing with Jude Hastings wasn’t making me feel all types of tingles wherever he was touching, and elsewhere in other place he wasn’t touching anymore, and maybe I did want to see where this night was going to go, where this fucking bet was going to go, but the other side of me, who knew what actual heartbreak, not Johnny breaking my heart in eighth grade heartbreak, but real heartbreak felt like. On the other hand, this was fun, as much as I would never admit it to him I always enjoyed our battle of the wits and I’d always found Jude handsome, I mean I’d be blind if I didn’t… but dancing with him in my bedroom wearing nothing more than his dress shirt… there was just something else happening and I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
Shit-balls, is this what a stroke feels like?
Am I meant to be smelling toast?
My heartbeat spiked, I’m sure if I could concentrate I could hear the thump, thump, thump nearly as loudly as I could hear the song through the room. Hastings had noticed I’d stopped swaying, and was now watching me, his hands remaining in their previous position. My breathing was hitching, becoming a varied mess of deep calming exhales and jagged short intakes. Adrenaline started to pump wildly through my body as my brain tried to focus on a silent prayer, praying that I don’t fuck this up, that I don’t fuck up such a perfect moment.
“Darcy.” It was so soft, I’d have missed it if I wasn’t so focused, so consumed by him. He lent down a little, bending at his knee’s so our eyes were level, his hands moved from my waist, each holding onto a side of my face keeping me looking at him. “Darcy,”
“Jude?” Then he was kissing me, a quick peck of soft lips, testing the boundaries, When I didn’t resist the peck was immediately followed by a hungry open mouthed kiss, one I’d only seen in movies like Gone with the wind, and anything by John Hughs. It was wet, and hot and everything teenage me always imagined kissing Jude Hastings would be. My hands traveled his body as his moved around mine, gripping lightly onto his shirt, encouraging to come closer, needing him closer…
Like it were possible for us to be any closer than we were.
His hands left my face, one going to my shoulders, the other around my back as he tried to pull me closer to him and I was at a total surrender, he had me. All of me as I titled my head up we were still kissing like the world was going to end at any moment, his tongue slipped into my mouth, gentle but demanding, controlling the passion of the kiss. My fingers gripped his hair pulling at it as I nibbled on his bottom lip, pulling it between my teeth.
I had never wanted anyone like I want Jude Hastings, ever.
Remember, Darcy. This is all a game. This is all part of his game plane.
“Jude,” I whispered, half torn between him and his lips, and wanting to go open the door to show him the way out so I didn’t fall for his trick any longer. “This isn’t part of the bet, I’m not falling for it.”
“Darcy, you should be kissed often.” His hand came up to my check, the other resting on my hip his shirt pushed up. “By someone who really likes you. Not in a stupid game.”
“Then what’s this? Isn’t it your game?” Just shut your eyes, Darcy. Close them tight… It’ll be over soon and Jude Hastings kissing you will all just be a distant memory, a memory you can use when you’re lonely because you kept telling him to fuck off and one day he did it.
“No?” He shook his head. “All I know is that when someone mentions you. I light up, and the idea of being around you, being consumed by you, and your time… Our stupid pranks” I put my hands against his chest and pushed. He countered my move and held onto my hands.
“You don’t mean that.” Hastings smiled. A happy carefree smile. I used to love those smiles once upon a time. “I can’t think right now, there’s too much in my head.” Too much wine in my system.
“Let me distract you.” He sat down on the bed and pulled me to stand before him. I averted my eyes to the ceiling, if I looked at him right now, I’d lose it. “Let me touch you the way only I can touch you. I know what you need,” His hand went to the waist band of my panties. “I know what you like Darcy, even after one night.” His hand returned to my shirt, his shirt pushing the material upwards. The cold air hit my skin. I felt his lips next. Kissing along the exposed skin. “Tell me you want it,” He whispered against my skin. I nodded, biting my lip, hands going to his shoulders. “I need you to tell me.”
“Please.” I whispered, head finally tilting down from the ceiling. Jude’s hands were on my thighs, slowly pushing my, his, shirt up. His lips still attached to the skin on my stomach, the kissed below my belli button, pulling the waistband of my panties out of the way ever so slightly. God I’ve died and found heaven. He looked up, his lips leaving my skin. Jude’s fingertips hooking onto my underwear. Thank God I was wearing one of my nicer pairs today… Not that Jude would pay much attention to them I’m sure, “Hastings.” I whispered as he pulled my underwear down my legs, dropping them when they got to my knees. He pulled me towards him, I fell onto his lap. My hands still holding onto his shoulders.
“Do you know before last night it’d been three years since I kissed you last?” He leaned in, hands going to the buttons on the shirt.
This was really fucking happening again.
“You remember.” His fingertips ran up and down my spine.
“It’s never left my mind.” My hands left his shoulders and went to his cheeks. “Another stupid game that brought us together.”
“We need to stop playing games together…” I lent down and pressed my lips against his. When I pulled away, his hands wound in my hair pulling my lips back to his.
“God.” He whispered in a moment of separation between us. His tongue traced across my bottom lip gently, but with an urgency and neediness that sent shivers down my spine. I pulled away, his bottom lip was between mine, a trick I’d learned from him, three years prior, now reused on him. “Fucking christ.” His lips moved to my neck, greedily leaving kisses all over.
“Hastings.” He pulled back, grabbing my hand with his dragging it down his chest, he stopped when our hands reached the bulge in his pants.
“Look what you do to me. You feel it?” I nod and move back in, running my fingers through his hair as I kiss him again. Jude’s hands went back to my shirt, moving it so he had more access to my back. Fingertips pushing roughly into my skin. It should have hurt, but instead it made me want more.
“We shouldn’t be doing this.” I whispered. Ignoring my own warning as my hands left his hair and went between us to his belt. “Such a bad idea…” I whispered agains as I undid his belt. What are we even doing? My mind is so muddled by the feeling of his hands running along my back tugging at my hair. The way his teeth nip at my bottom lip as he pulls away, he puts some distance between our lips, looking down at where my hands are working on the buttons on his jeans.
“Then why are you unzipping my jeans.” He grabbed onto my face, holding so gently as if he were worried I would break. “I want you Darcy,” Taking his words as encouragement I reached for his jeans again. Running my fingers along the skin above, fingers playing with the hair leading down from his belly-button.
“Are you sure this is a good idea.” I whispered, looking up from where my hands play to look at Jude. He lowered his head to mine, a hand moving from my back, tickling it’s way up to the back of my neck tilting my head up, until his lips met mine. His lips brushed mine, softly as if he was waiting to see my reaction, when I pushed forward a little he gave me a real kiss, soft and slow. His hand left my neck, going back around my waist, pulling me onto his lap even more, I could feel him underneath me, hard. Ready and waiting. Jude pulled away first, his eyes stared into mine as he watched me move my hand slowly down his bare chest. Dragging it once more down, before leading it into his boxers.
Now, this wasn’t the first time I’d seen a penis. I wasn’t seventeen anymore, I wasn’t a virgin, But this was Jude, and this was Jude’s penis, and while I wasn’t a virgin anymore, I wasn’t a veteran in the penis riding rodeo,
“You look surprised.” He whispered. I couldn’t help but giggle.
“Just thinking about how the high school rumour mill was true for once.” I whispered, I could feel the hard bulge under my fingers and I squeezed it a little, teasing a hiss from him. I took that as a good sign, running my hand up and down the outline of him. I looked down at my hand, watching as it palmed him through his boxers.
“God, Darcy,” He hissed. I looked up his face. His eyes were closed, mouth parted slightly. This was Jude Hastings. Suddenly his eyelashes fluttered open, his eyes meeting mine and he winked at me, biting his lips when his hips rolled pushing himself into my hand, “Jesus.” He whispered, and the tent in the boxers was now bigger, feeling heavier in my hands. He pulled my hand away, kissing me fully and hungrily, my hands roaming his back, while his were firmly planted on my jaw. My hips rolling out of instinct, a soft moan ripping from his throat.
“I need you.” I whispered against his skin, His lips going to my neck.
“You’ve got me.” His hand left my jaw, going back to my shirt, pulling it from my body. He watched me, shirtless, nothing but my silk skirt left, on his lap. His eyes filled thickly with lust. “Take what you want.” I didn’t need any more, My hand went to his pants again, pulling the boxers down. I stared at him he was definitely bigger, longer, thicker than my last, well my last before him. My hand already around his length, my thumb swiping over his tip to collect the liquid that had gathered there.
It was now or never. Now was the time I was going to have sex with Jude Hastings, sober… Or mostly sober, the boy I’d fallen so helplessly in love with during my childhood. My best-friend till we started middle school, and now my… friend?
It was fine though, He was now only a friend to me too… We were friends? Enemies? Frienamies. Frienamies who were about to have sex… Sex Frienamies…
“Darcy… You gotta do something honeybird,” He whispered, pulling my lips to his. I knew he was right, and before I knew it I was lifting up a little, hovering over him. It was as if Jude could sense how nervous I was, about what was going to happen as he placed his hands on my hips, encouraging me, lowering me down on him. Jesus, fuck… This hurt. “Darcy.” But hearing Jude Hastings moan my name did something to me. Elicited something primal in me, something I didn’t know existed… Suddenly I didn’t care about the pain anymore, All I was sure about was I wanted to hear Jude moan my name again. My hands gripped onto his shoulders digging in as I began to roll my hips into his, Feeling him inside, hitting me in all the places no one else ever had… No one else could like him.
“Hastings.” I whimpered. He looked up from where our bodies met, his hands holding tightly onto my hips. He moaned loudly, God I don’t think I’d ever heard anything more attractive. His fingertips dug into my hips as he began to thrust his own hips upwards. “Jude.” Another strained whimper. “I need…” I closed my eyes, I couldn’t keep this up. It was too much. “I can’t.”
“I know.” He whispered. Lips meeting mine as I fell forward into him. Jude lifted us, rolling us over so I was under him now. His jeans had fallen down his legs and pooled at his ankles. “God, you feel incredible.” He whispered, pushing my hair away from my face as his hips rolled into me. “Even better than last night.” It was slow this time, both of us leaving feathery touches on the other’s body and kissing as if it was the last day we had on earth, and this was how we wanted to go out.
To be fair, if I was going to go out… This would be the way I’d want to spend my last day.
“Oh god.” I moaned loudly when he started going faster, One of my legs hooking around his waist the other bent at the knee, as he hit harder, deeper. One of my arms hooked around his shoulder, pressing his body to mine in a desperate attempt to have him as close as possible. I started to suck a mark on his shoulder, wanting to drown the moans that threatened to come out.
“Don’t think about it.” He demanded already seeming to know where my mind was drifting too, “Just think about right now, think about me.” He whispered lips attaching to my neck, his hips moving harder and making me forget everything I had in my mind, every fear I had about what would come next. What would happen once this was over. The only thing I could think about after was him, his name falling from my lips. “Just think about how good this feels, how right this feels.” He moaned when I started clenching around him, nails scratching his back roughly. “Let go.” I couldn’t stop or command my body to stop doing it, all it could manage to do was shake and quiver as a billion and one small bubbles of pleasure burst inside of me. I kissed him eagerly, the low grunt and the curse he let go when he reached his high, enough to make me want him all over again. “Fuck.” He whispered his body slowing. Jude tossed his head back, moaning once more as he came down from his high, his hand clinched at my hip until he relaxed, falling down on top of me his lips going to my forehead in a splatter of kisses.
#dylan o'brian imagine#dylan o'brien#Dylan O'brien smut#calahan skogman#Harry Styles#harry styles imagine#George mackay#Ben Hardy#Ben Hardy Smut#George Mackay Smut#Ben Hardy Imagine
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when your best friend dies and you forget babies dont have teeth
#1917#george mackay#dean charles chapman#george mackay x reader#george mackay smut#george mackay imagine#dean charles chapman x reader#dean charles chapman imagine#dean charles chapman smut#tom blake#tom blake imagine#tom blake x reader#will schofield#will schofield smut#will schofield imagine#will schofield x reader
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Songs and Showers - George Mackay College AU
It’s the millionth time you’ve heard that singing voice coming from the boy’s showers in your residence hall and you just HAD to go investigate, no matter how awkward it was that you were sneaking into the boy’s bathroom in nothing but a robe...
Based off this prompt: “You’re singing in our dorm shower, and I just wanted to let you know that you have a wonderful voice, also oops this is now awkward we’re both kind of naked”
A/N: here’s that college AU that no one asked for, but I’m giving you anyway! Please enjoy!
Wordcount: 1393
Warnings: cursing and i mean you two are both in the showers soooooo a lil steamy content
Masterlist
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It was almost like clockwork. You would speedwalk in your robe and flipflops to the girl’s bathroom at the same time every night. Communal living meant communal bathrooms and you hated it. You had been doing it for two years now and you couldn’t wait to get your own apartment.
You’d just miss that singing boy.
You showered so late in the evening that you were often the only one in the bathrooms. Whoever this young man was, he probably thought that no one could hear him. Whoever he was, you wished that you could just sit outside the showers and hear him sing until morning.
Or, at least until he was done showering. You always showered so quickly that you never got to hear the end of his song.
Today was no different than any other day. Your last class had ended at 8:30 (as usual), you had spent less time than you should’ve on homework (as usual), and then around ten, you decided to take a shower.
“Please be empty, please be empty.” You muttered, shuffling down the hallway as fast as you could. As the snap of your flipflops echoed down the hall, you could hear the soft sounds of your singing friend.
Your body seemed to slow down as his voice melted over your skin. It was like a warm blanket, something that comforted you after a long day. Hell, you didn’t even know the song he was singing but you adored hearing it every time.
Hell, you didn’t even know his name. You had no idea what he looked like, or what room he lived in. But GOD if you ever put a face to the singer, you had no idea what you would do. You so desperately wanted to meet him.
“Oh fuck it.” You threw your shower bag into one of the cubicles in the girl’s bathroom, adjusted your messy bun, and shuffled back into the hallway to the entrance of the boy’s bathroom.
It was still the same song, almost as if it was a ritual over and over again. As you made your way into the unknown territory that was the boy’s bathroom, you hoped and prayed that he wouldn’t notice you just yet. You so desperately wanted him to sing forever.
Unfortunately, you tripped over your flipflops.
He stopped singing and shut off the water. “Hello?”
Aw, shit.
The curtain rings echoed through the empty bathroom, followed by a few smacks of sandals against the wet floor. “Hello?”
Around the corner towards you came a tall young man in nothing but a towel and a pair of blue flipflops. Wet blond hair tousled and skin still dripping, he made eye contact with you and almost dropped his towel. It was George, from the room directly across from you. He was also in your film class and you had been in a play together. But you had no idea he could sing.
“MotherFUCKING CHRIST!” He shouted, instantly turning his back to you. You let out a little squeal of your own and looked away. “Y/N?”
“I uh, hi George.” You slowly turned around with a sheep smile.
“Great. Hi. What are you doing in the boy’s restroom?” George had a death grip on his towel and refused to turn around and look at you.
Here went nothing.
“Well, I’ve heard you singing in our dorm showers every night for weeks and I just wanted to tell you that your voice is beautiful. I suppose this is awkward now because we’re both…”
“Yeah.” He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “You really liked it?”
“I di-” Suddenly, the door opened. Quick as a whip, George grabbed your hand and pulled you into one of the shower cubicles, probably the one he had been using. He held a finger to his lips as the newcomer got into (of course) the cubicle right next to the two of you.
The two of you stood chest to chest, noses almost touching. His blue eyes studied your face as you tried to focus on everything except him. You knew that if you stared at his face, you’d blush so incredibly hard. He knew this too because he had a tiny smirk on his face.
George leaned in, placing his lips right next to your ear. “Why did you come in here? Just to tell me you liked my singing?”
“Yeah. I wanted to tell you in person.” You breathed. “I didn’t know you could sing like that.”
George grinned, humming in satisfaction. “I don’t sing for just anyone.”
You felt as if you had electricity running through your veins. You had always found him handsome ever since the first day of class and you had often caught each other’s eye during play practice. You had never imagined that you’d find yourself hiding in a shower cubicle with him… basically naked.
Maybe in your deepest darkest dreams, but you had never imagined those dreams coming true.
“When we get out of here, eventually, can I hear you sing more?” You asked, shakily raising your hand to brush some of his hair from his face. George nodded, his eyes shut.
“You know, I’ve been waiting to talk to you since the play ended.” He murmured, resting his forehead against yours. “I just haven’t gotten up the nerves to talk to you. I’ve seen you in the hallway, but I’d get so nervous.”
“I make you nervous?” You grinned. “How?”
George blushed. “Well, yeah. You’re so pretty and smart and whenever you talk in class-”
You cut him off by grabbing his face and pressing your lips to his. George grinned against your mouth, twisting his fingers into your hair. One of your hands snuck into his hair, grabbing at the wet strands. He let out a soft growl from deep in his throat, biting at your bottom lip.
“Fuck. George, we have to be quiet.” You hissed. One of his hands slid under your robe and squeezed your waist.
“Yeah, I know.” He murmured, pressing his lips to your neck. It was like fireworks, his lips lighting a flame under your skin and you loved it. As he nipped and sucked at the skin on your neck, you had to bite your lip to keep from making noise.
You two were so distracted by each other that you didn’t hear the shower turn off. It wasn’t until the curtain rings made their noise that you suddenly froze, George pinning you against the wall with one hand over your mouth, the other next to your head. His eyes slowly went from panicked to mischevious as he pushed the collar of your robe to the side and once again attached his lips to your neck. Your stomach was in knots, your knees positively weak.
“Hey man, um, I don’t mean to rain on your parade or anything but the RA is coming back to the hall soon and I’d take this somewhere different.” With that rather embarrassing warning, the other student makes his way out of the bathroom rather quickly.
George doesn’t move, his face buried in the crook of your neck. His shoulders began to shake as he laughed, the sweet sound echoing through the bathroom. He released you from his grip and leaned against the opposite wall, running a hand through his hair with a grin.
“I have never been more terrified but also excited at the same time.” You chuckled, your face heating up with a blush.
“Maybe we should take his advice and go somewhere else?” George raised an eyebrow.
That same intoxicating heat returned to the pit of your stomach at the idea of being with George alone. You dared to look into his eyes and saw them glazed over with that same feeling of desire, that dangerous lustful darkness. You smirked.
“Alright Mackay, but only if you sing to me. Plus I need to shower.”
“I’ll sing to you as much as you want.”
“It’s a deal.”
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Tagslist:
@fandom--0verdose
#george mackay#george mackay imagines#george mackay x reader#george mackay is my husband#george mackay fluff#george mackay smut#1917 film#1917 movie#strangethings-everywhere
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unexpected
request: George Mackay concept: getting pregnant unexpectedly :)
A/N: no offense but you guys are going through a baby fever definitely lmao half of my requests include pregnancy, also really short because i'm not doing actual imagines just short blurbs
1917 was a success. George was finally being acknowledged for his fantastic job in this movie, he deserved it. And you, you were doing very good in college, everything was going in the correct direction.
And then it happened, a night out to celebrate awards season being finally over, too many drinks, and two young people very much in love and too intoxicated to care about protection.
Two weeks after the nauseous state appeared, you couldn't eat anything because you'd throw everything out, then your period never came.
When it hit you, you became a crying mess running into George's arms, who was as shocked as you were but tried to stay calm for you.
You knew you should get a test just for reassurance but you already knew, and it was driving you insane thinking about the future.
"It's ok, Y/N, listen..." he said grabbing your face making you face him, "I'm gonna drive us to the nearest place we find where we can buy you a test and we'll see" George looked so calm it was annoying you.
"Why are you taking it so calmly? I'm fucking pregnant, I know it" you said crossing your arms over your chest, George shrugged with a playful smirk plastered on his face.
"I don't know, we've been dating for 5 years now, and I love you..." he said hugging you by your waist, your faces a few hinches apart, "you love me, of course" you laughed. Now your noses were touching so George leaned a little and kissed your lips softly and spoke again, "If the test say yes" you frowned and he looked at you playfully, "well then, I'm ready to do this as long as you are" he finished while caressing you cheek making your heart melt.
You jumped on him and started leaving kisses all over his face as George let out giggles.
"Anyway, it doesn't matter the results I'm still asking you to marry me after" he said and you stopped your actions abruptly.
"What?"
"Oh nothing, c'mon love, let's go".
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Just Another Day at the Office Series - The Sexperiment
George MacKay x Reader Series
Part One: Ratatouille
Masterlist
Summary: Y/f/n Y/l/n is doing better than ever; she’s finally in a relationship with the man she’s been constantly thinking about, she has some great friends, and she’s thriving at her dream job. Except, there’s one problem: being in a relationship with one of your coworkers can get really steamy, and can cause a lot of sexual frustration. Her new pitch idea may solve exactly that problem, but will George be okay with it?
a/n: I have absolutely no personal experience in magazine/journalism career, so the information in this fic will be provided with the knowledge I have conducted from research. With that being said, please don’t be mad if this is not accurate!!! **“The Sexperiment” is inspired by an actual Cosmopolitan article (here’s the link!)
Warnings: This is a slow burn fic, their relationship won’t happen in one night, so if you’re not into that, check out some of the beautifully written imagines that you can most likely find under the george mackayxreader tag. I might eventually write some of my own too :P At least one person’s saying “fuck” and there’s NSFW content..aka smut. You have been warned.
I was officially in a relationship with George, and man, was it fucking amazing. I’d told Bree as soon as I got home–along with telling her that we’d finally done it–and she insisted that we share a bottle of champagne to celebrate. We ended up getting drunk off of the cheap bubbly alcohol and fell asleep, waking up hungover on a Sunday morning sprawled out on our living room sofa whilst our television asked us if we were still watching Queer Eye.
The entire week was followed by George coming up to my desk and taking Dean and I out for lunch. I was grateful that out of everyone in the office, my favorite brunette editor happened to be his previous choice of friendship. Our afternoons were filled with club sandwiches and laughs, which made me look forward to going to work every morning. And our weekends began consisting of going on dates, which almost always ended up with us spending the night at one another’s flats. We’d spent moments of laughter, where I felt like I’d been getting to know him much more as I studied his musical laugh and memorized the happy crinkles by his eyes.
However, we hadn’t had sex since the night he’d asked me to be his, the night we’d had sex together for the first time. I wasn’t particularly bothered by this, but it made me wonder if it was something he’d been avoiding.
I sat on my sofa on a Sunday night after spending the day with George, my legs sprawled on the cushions as my back rested against armrest, laptop in my lap. I’d been procrastinating brainstorming ideas for my pitch, guiltily looking at lingerie while my subconscious pondered why George still hadn’t instigated having sex. The beautifully stitched thin, lace fabric sparked an idea in my head and I found myself clicking back onto my document, typing away immediately.
“Y/n? You got anything for me?” Connie’s eyes glared into mine, intimidating emerald orbs making me want to shrink into the corner of the room and shield myself from her.
You got this, I thought to myself. Gulping with a confident nod, I began talking.
“I’ve been seeing women online complain about their sex lives declining in their relationships, especially after building families,” I started, using my hands to help gesture my way through my pitch. “Women are finding it difficult for themselves and their spouses to become aroused, especially when couples become so comfortable with each other. I, uhm,” I stuttered, “have been experiencing a sort of dry spell, if you will, in my own relationship, so I was thinking of conducting an experiment, where I test how I–and other women–can bring the arousal back in their relationships.”
I couldn’t ignore Dean’s eyes on me, and I cursed myself that he had to be part of this meeting.
“I was thinking my experiment could be whether lingerie could possibly effect women’s sex lives, and if it does, then lingerie could be a cure to suffering sex lives,” I finally finished, nervously bringing my lip between my teeth as I awaited my boss’ feedback.
She nodded slowly, her eyebrows raised.
“I’m surprised, to say the least, Y/n,” she began, making a lump in my throat appear. “But, I like it. A lot of women can relate to that, in fact, a lot of the women in this room can probably relate to it.”
She looked around at all of the women in the room, all returning scared-shitless expressions.
“I’ll be looking forward to reading it,” she concluded. There was a glint of satisfaction in her eyes, yet her face remained its serious composure.
I released a breath I hadn't realized I’d been holding, and as soon as the meeting ended, Dean rushed to my side.
“So, Georgie ain’t givin’ it to ya?” he chided with a smirk of amusement.
I rolled my eyes, my cheeks reddening more than I’d liked them to.
“I’ll fucking kill you if you tell him about this,” I warned him as we made our way to our desks.
“You know he’s going to read it after you post it though, right?” he interrogated, taking a seat in his chair as he looked at me from the side of his computer.
Fuck. I hadn’t thought about that.
“I’ll deal with that when the time comes,” I assured him, chewing on my lip nervously as I pondered George’s reaction. “Just don’t tell him, at least until it’s done and published. Please,” I pleaded.
He rolled his eyes, a slight amusing smile playing on his lips.
“Fine,” he gave in. “But, you realize this makes me a bad friend, right?”
“This makes you a good friend to me,” I winked at him. “Besides, this is for work.”
“Mhm,” he hummed sarcastically, slapping his headphones onto his head and bringing his attention onto the screen in front of him.
I made a trip to Victoria’s Secret after work, buying a simple–yet overpriced–black satin and lacy babydoll. I didn’t want to go all out just yet, and I figured it’d be simple, yet sexy enough to get my point across. I sent a text to George as I arrived to my apartment, slipping the thin fabric onto my body.
8:09 pm, Me: Hey, are you home?
8:11 pm, George: Yep, just got back from the rehabilitation center. What’s up?
I chewed my lip, wondering what I should say.
8:12 pm, Me: Is now a good time? I need something.
8:13 pm, George: Yeah, are you okay?
8:14 pm, Me: Yes G I’m fine. Do you think I can come over?
8:14 pm, Me: I have a surprise for you
8:15 pm, George: A good surprise?
I smirked.
8:16 pm, Me: A very good surprise.
8:17 pm, George: I give in. Come over.
Just wearing the lingerie, I wrapped a big coat around my body, reaching longer than the thin fabric. I practically looked naked underneath the coat, but I buttoned it up regardless and grabbed my purse and keys. The cold air igniting my skin, leaving me covered in goosebumps as I headed to my car, I began slightly regretting my plan, blasting the heat as soon as the vehicle roared to life. I made my way to his flat eagerly, driving faster than normal in attempt to arrive as quickly as I could. Once I parked, I didn’t bother waiting for him to meet me outside; I scurried into his complex, thankfully remembering the number on his door as I anxiously knocked.
Butterflies took over my stomach as I suddenly felt sick, awaiting the unknown from the other side of the wood. The door slowly opened, revealing a confused George. His waves were in perfect condition, a muted purple button up clinging to his torso, the sleeves rolled up. The scent of pasta sauce and cooked vegetables greeted me, almost making me forget what I’d gone there for.
“I made a ratatouille,” he informed me, gesturing to the kitchen.
I slowly unbuttoned my coat, revealing the satin and lace against my skin. His eyes immediately trailed down my body, his lips parting to form an ‘o’. Time turned into slow motion as he grabbed me by the waist and pulled me inside, shutting the door behind me. My back rested back against the door, his hand next to my head from shutting it so quickly. He took my coat and tossed it across the room, attacking my lips at once. His lips were rough against mine, as if he’d had built-up tension that had finally gotten the chance to release.
I moved my leg to rest against his side, grabbing his collar and pulling him closer to me, his tent in his pants making contact with my core. My lips parted at the closeness of his bulge to my heat, giving his tongue access to explore my mouth. His other hand went to my leg, gently dragging his fingertips against my exposed thigh, trailing where I needed him most. His fingers reached the scrunched up fabric of the babydoll, removing his lips from mine to look down.
“No panties?” he taunted, bringing his eyes back up to see my reaction.
I looked at him innocently, shaking my head to answer his question, my lips parted in awe as I watched him.
“Tsk,” he clicked his tongue, shaking his head as he looked back down at my exposed heat, shifting my leg to reveal more of myself to him.
He slowly lowered himself, getting down on his knees in front of me. His hands went to my thighs, separating them and spreading them as far as they could go whilst I stood, before trailing up and pushing the fabric up to my stomach. My heat was entirely exposed, as he trailed soft kisses up my thighs, pressing a kiss to my mound and returning his eyes up to meet mine.
“My dirty girl,” he muttered, shaking his head once again, a smirk of amusement playing on his lips.
He looked back down at my heat, licking his lips, before flattening his tongue against me. I sighed, head hitting the door whilst my hips bucked. He grabbed my hands, moving them to hold the fabric of the satin lingerie for him, moving his hands to hold my hips down instead. His tongue began slow figure eights through my folds, making me squirm against his grip on my hips. With one hand keeping the fabric out of his way, my other hand went to grip his locks. He responded to my tugging fingers with a low moan, sending vibrations through me, causing my legs to shake.
However, I didn’t want to cum without him. I wanted my first orgasm of tonight to be with him inside of me. My hand went lower to grab him by his collar, bringing him to meet my lips. I could taste myself on him, and I knew he secretly liked the thought of that, that I was tasting my own juices on his tongue. He moved my legs to his hips, gesturing for me to wrap my legs around him. I obliged, jumping up and attaching my lips quickly back to his as he carried me. I parted my lips, half-lidded lustful eyes meeting his own.
“Why don’t we fuck on the couch?” I asked, my eyes moving to look at his living room sofa.
He turned his head to look at it as well, a low raspy chuckle exiting his throat.
“I like the way you think, love.”
Our lips found each other’s again, as he changed his direction towards the sofa. He gently laid me down on the cushions, quickly unbuttoning his shirt whilst I sat up, my hands moving to his belt. His toned torso met my eyes once he peeled it off, his hands helping my own undo his pants. His feet assisted in kicking his jeans off, leaving him in his boxers, the large tent on his crotch taunting me. I reached to the bottom of the babydoll, peeling it off of me, tossing it across the room whilst I sat completely exposed.
He looked down at underwear, his hands going to his hips confidently, glancing back at me. “You want to the honors, angel?”
I nodded, my fingers looping around the band of his underwear teasingly before pulling it down, his erection instantly slapping against his stomach. He kicked the fabric off, slowly spreading my legs.
“You ready angel?” he asked once more, his eyes meeting mine, searching for permission.
I nodded, gulping as I looked down at the angry head of his dick, already leaking with precum. He brought one hand to caress my cheek, thumb stroking my cheekbone whilst his other hand aligned himself at my entrance. Swirling his tip up and down my folds, coating himself in my juices, he began slowly pushing into me. He moved his hand to support himself against the couch, the other still caressing my face. Sliding the remainder of his length into me, he moved closer down to me, resting his forehead against my own before he slowly pulled himself almost entirely out of me, gently sliding back in again. My hands went to his bare back, nails running down his shoulder blades.
He kept a slow, steady rhythm, our hips gently meeting each other’s, the only sounds being our unsteady breaths, his length slowly pummeling through my juices, and the quiet chorus of curses he muttered when reentering me. The pleasure began building, and every thrust began contributing to the building of knots in my stomach. My hips began bucking against him, encouraging him to pick up his pace. His thrusts became increasingly faster, and he moved both of his hands to rest against the back of the couch to support himself. He moved his forehead away from my own, moving away from me as his hips moved more quickly against my own. My eyes met his, his half-lidded blissful eyes staring back at me, a few stray locks stuck to his forehead, his locks now disheveled.
I bit my lip before grabbing one of his wrists, bringing it to my throat. His jaw went slack at this action, gently grasping at my throat and driving into me harder.
“My dirty girl likes to be choked, huh?” he taunted, his accent making the words sound even sexier, his skin slapping against my own while he fucked me faster and faster.
He moved one of my legs over his shoulder, before drilling into me deeper than he’d ever been. I couldn’t help the loud moan I released, my eyes scrunching closed at the feeling of his cock hitting the spot that made my legs twitch.
“Cum for me, angel,” he praised.
“George!” I screamed, my legs shaking as I clenched around him, ecstasy taking over my body while he thrusted against me before stilling, spurting inside of me whilst I rode out my high.
His body plopped against me on the couch, his chest heaving up and down. My legs were still shaking, the intensity of the orgasm still lingering. He looked down, resting a hand on my leg in attempt to calm it. He chuckled, looking at me.
“You alright, love?”
I nodded, my lips parted, my breathing pattern slowly returning back to normal.
“That was fucking amazing,” I breathily exclaimed, earning another chuckle from him.
He wrapped an arm around me, pulling me into his side. My cheek rested on his bare chest, his heartbeat lulling me to relaxation. His arm soothingly rubbed up and down my arm, his own cheek resting against the top of my head.
“Well,” he began, his voice raspy, “before you came here, I made ratatouille.”
#george mackay#george mackay x reader#x reader#x reader fic#fanfc#1917#1917 cast#smut#George Mackay smut
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YES, SIR - g.m*
CHARACTER(S): George MacKay (Actor)
WARNING: Smut, unprotected sex, absolute filth, age-gap (Professor AU)
WORD COUNT: 3566
"That'll be all for today, remember you have exactly a week until your next assignments are due. Good luck," His voice reverberated throughout the lecture hall. People begun to stand up, their books carelessly thrown in their bags. "Y/N, can I borrow you for a moment?" My head snapped towards my professor, heart pounding against my chest, 'What did he want?' As soon as the hall was empty of students, with the exception of me, I approached his desk. "There's no need to look so worried, you're not in trouble," His smile was kind, it almost seemed to light up the space around him, but perhaps that was just my admiration for him. I was quite fond of my professor. He genuinely cared for his students, always pushing for them to be better; I always found myself striving to please him. Besides, he was also described to be the 'best looking professor I have ever laid eyes on'. Not my words, but I could hardly argue with them, they were true words.
His hands fumbled with the papers on his desk, his eyebrows furrowed in search of something. My eyes wandered him as I waited. They trailed up the veins of his forearms, disappearing into shirt he had rolled up to his elbows. The same shirt that hugged his biceps and chest, a deep maroon colour. "Here," Professor MacKay muttered to himself as he held a paper in his hand, my paper. "I wanted to congratulate you on it personally." I was lost for words, how could he be that impressed with it that he wanted to speak to me privately. "Thank you, sir, but can I ask why?" He chuckled at my coyness, "Come here," He beckoned me over to his desk as he placed the paper on it. My eyes flickered over my work, remembering the stress that I had gone through to hand it in on time.
He moved closer to me, his body mere centimetres away from mine. His long finger pointed at a particular section, he dragged it across my words as he spoke, "This imagery, Y/N, its one of the best things I've ever read, and I don't say that lightly," I could almost hear the smile in his words despite not looking at his face. "The way you write about her being utterly infatuated with him, to the point where she'd completely surrender herself to him...its beautiful. The way you write about love, it seems as though you lived through hundreds of relationships. Now that's not true, is it, Y/N?"
The way the words fell from his lips, the way he praised me, the way his voice lowered as he said my name; it had me weak in my knees. "No, sir." My words were quiet, not quite believing what he was telling me. "I'd love to hear about your thought process behind this piece." The truth, the real truth was that I was projecting myself onto the woman. I longed for someone to submit myself to, someone who could utterly dominate me. And the image that formed in my head when writing was none other than my professor. I stuttered, unsure of what lie to tell him. I couldn't possibly tell him the truth. His breath fanned my neck and I could feel his cerulean eyes burning into my frame; small and meek compared to his tall stature.
"George, you will not fucking believe what-oh," A saviour had arrived. "I thought you were alone." The man stopped in his tracks as he stared at us. I could feel Mr MacKay had moved away from me, his warmth no longer radiating onto me. "Dean, don't worry about it." His professional demeanor dropped as he spoke to his friend. "Professor, I should go." I turned around to face him and he nodded, his eyes darting between my own and his friend's. "Of course. Good luck on your next assignment, I'm expecting big things." His smile was intended to be comforting but his words shot anxiety through my body, more pressure being applied to me. "Thank you, sir." I left the room without a second thought, eager to get started on my work so I could finish it as soon as possible.
Three hours and counting. That's how long I'd been staring at my blank page, the whiteness of it boring into my tired eyes. Inspiration ran short in my mind. Mr MacKay's words paced through my head, "I'm expecting big things."
What if I couldn't deliver? Would he be mad at me? Disappointed?
Surely not, he always seemed so polite and comforting, he would understand, right? My thoughts turned dark almost instantly, what if he did have a darker side? My previous assignment appeared before me, the scene Sir was talking about firmly planted in my mind. The woman was on her knees, begging, and I couldn't help but imagine myself in that situation.
"Please, sir, I'm yours, all yours to do with as you please." He looked down at me, his fingers delicately holding my chin, a condescending smile playing upon his perfect lips. "I know you're mine, you little slut. You're mine and only mine, is that understood, angel?" His fingers moved down to grab my neck, squeezing the flesh that rested underneath his calloused hand.
Stop. I slammed the lid of my laptop shut. My work could wait until tomorrow when my head was clear.
Oh, how wrong I was. The two hour lecture was torture in its purest form, my thoughts from last night plaguing my mind still as I gazed upon my professor as he taught from the front of the hall. I had instantly regretted sitting in one of the front seats as soon as I sat down, his eyes bore into me for the entire time.He had never done that before, I realised. Previously when I'd sat at the front, he would always look at the other students so why was he only focused on me? I groaned underneath my breath, trying to focus on the words that left his mouth and that's when I realised. My t-shirt ran along the tops of my breasts, more skin was exposed than usual. 'Surely not.' I thought to myself. Mr MacKay couldn't be distracted because of some tits. But my theory was proven right when his gaze caught mine once more, his eyes flickering down to my chest before they came up to my eyes again. A red tint crept onto his cheeks, I had caught him.
The rest of the lecture went by surprisingly quick, and I didn't catch Mr MacKay looking at my chest again. As usual, I was the last one to leave and for the second day in a row, my professor called out to me, "Y/N, forgive me, I-I don't know what came over me." The blush returned to his cheeks as his hands toyed with one another. "Professor, you don't have to apologise, it's fine," A smirk slid onto my lips, maybe one day my fantasies would come true. 'Fat chance.' I mentally scolded myself. Silence fell upon the lecture hall, the light streaming in from the thin windows. Sun beams bounced off of Mr MacKay's face, highlighting his cheekbones and his jawline. His eyes seemed to glow in the light, the deep pools of blue dragging me further into his charm, further under his grasp.
"I should go."
"Yes, yes, of course," He responded almost immediately, "Big things, Y/N."He pointed a long finger at me, his teeth shining from the lighting in the room. I nodded before hurrying out the lecture hall
Two more days passed and I was still struggling with my assignment. I kept asking myself if I should just go to Professor MacKay and ask for help, but every time I went to seek out his office, I stopped myself. However it seemed that help came to find me instead. As I was leaving the campus, I bumped into none other than Mr MacKay himself. Quite literally. I wasn't watching where I was going and before I knew it, I was face-to-face with the man in question. Or rather, face-to-chest. "Sorry, Professor, I should've been looking where I was going." I let out a timid laugh but avoided his gaze. "It's quite alright," Silence passed over us again so I took the time to briefly look at him. A navy shirt hugged his chest, rolled up to his elbows as always.
"How's your assignment going?"
My heart beat doubled instantly. 'Should I tell him the truth?' Oh, what's the harm. "Actually, it's not going too great," Once again, I tried to avert my eyes from his piercing gaze. "I, um, was actually wondering if you could help me with it."
"Of course, Y/N," He beamed at me, he seemed slightly too enthusiastic. He led me through various corridors and hallways to his office. Inside, the room was neat and tidy. I wouldn't have expected anything less from him. "Take a seat. Obviously, I can't help you too much, it would be unfair on other students. But I'll try and do what I can." I followed his instruction and took a seat in one of the leather chairs that sat at his desk. What surprised me is that he took the one next to me, rather than the one on the opposite side.
"Thank you, sir. For doing this for me." That damn smile. It was wrong, I knew it was wrong; pining after my professor like this. But that feeling, it spurred me on almost. The danger of it all, the risk. It was enticing, alluring, arousing.
"Show me what you have so far," I pulled my notebook out of my bag and placed it on his large desk. His eyes scanned over my scarce plan, his eyebrows furrowed in thought, his fingers playing upon his lips. He hummed slightly, his knee knocking against mine. I shouldn't have looked. As if my lust for him couldn't get worse, I had to go and look at his thighs. His thick thighs. I could practically see the muscles clenching and relaxing under the fabric of his trousers. His fingers danced upon the page of my notebook, one finger in particular pointing at a section. "I like this, could you expand on this?" His voiced lowered at the end of his sentence, blue eyes passing over my body. I came closer to him, to read what he had pointed out. Once again, I could feel his breath against me, the warmth of his body radiating against mine.
More. I wanted more.
I tore my eyes off the page to look at my professor. I could see the cogs ticking behind his eyes, the thoughts racing through his head. Eyes cast to my lips, his tongue passed over his own. "Professor..." I muttered before his lips came crashing onto mine, his large hand weaving into my hair to pull my head closer to his. Parting his lips, he pushed his tongue into my mouth. Wet, silky, soft lips moved against my own. My heart pounded against my chest so hard I was scared he'd be able to see it. I moved my own hands to rest on him, one on his knee, the other at the base of his neck. The hairs their enticed my hands, begged me to pull at the strands, so I did. A groan erupted from his lips, he pulled away not long after. "I-I, this." He seemed lost for words. "We don't have to if you don't want to." I told him, fearing I had over-stepped. "No, no, I want to," His eyes seemed to darken with his own words. "I was just wondering if this was alright with you."
"It's more than alright." A smirk found it's way back onto my lips as my hand slid further into the fluff of his hair. "Tell me if you want me to stop, at any moment." His eyes were filled with concern, his eyebrows furrowed once more. His breath fanned my face, "I will, but believe me, I'm not gonna want you to stop," I moved my lips closer to his ear, my voice barely above a whisper, "I'm yours, sir. Use me as you please, treat me like the slut I am." A moan came from his perfect lips, his thigh tensing under my hand. "Didn't think you had it in you." He muttered before dragging me into his lap. Rough hands pressed into my body, squeezing at my flesh, starting at my neck and working their way down to my ass.
"Sir." I whimpered as he slapped it harshly. "Fucking love it when you call me that. Don't act like it doesn't turn you on too," Our lips met once more, more passionate than the first time. Teeth clashed with each other, tongues collided, lips smacked one another. It was all lust, lust driving us into each other, lust causing the friction between our laps. My hips began to grind against his, his hands urging me on. He pulled me closer to him then pulled me away, then closer again, repeating the same action over and over again, fighting for more friction between us.
His mouth parted from mine, "Stand up," He pushed me off of his thighs, it was like a switch had been flipped; one moment he was kind and generous, the next intimidating and dominant. Mr MacKay followed in my actions, standing up so our warm bodies pressed against each other once more. Despite his domineering actions, his hands trembled slightly as they raised my top above my head. "Been thinking about these," His head moved to my chest, peppering light kisses along the tops of my breasts. Hands making quick work of the clasp, he pulled the garment away from me, nipples hardening from the cool air of his office. My fingers, toiled with the tendrils of his hair, tugging at the strands. His hips thrusted into mine slightly with every tug of mine.
Purple marks started to form on my breasts from Mr MacKay's work, he made his way up to my neck, intending to leave his mark there too. I could feel his tongue slip and slide against my flesh, his teeth lightly biting into the skin. Sir's hands moved again, grabbing at my trousers, yanking them down my legs. My professor took a step away from me, his eyes burning through my body. "Fuck," He whimpered at the sight of me, my chest and neck littered with his mark, almost naked in front of him. The bulge in between his legs grew bigger by the second, begging to break free from its tight restraints. Thoughts began to fill his head again. "Do you think about me a lot then, sir?" I padded towards him, confusion light upon his face. "You said you've been thinking about these," I raised my small hands to play with my nipples, pinching them and twisting them. "Tell me, Professor. Do you touch yourself with thoughts of me in your mind?"
I cocked my head, hands coming from my body to press against his, fingers undoing the buttons of his shirt. His eyes watched me like a hawk watches its prey. "Tell me, do you have me on my knees, begging to such your cock?" Confidence poured into my veins, spurring me on more and more. "Or am I bent over your desk? Legs spread wide, dripping for your touch?" I slid his shirt off of his body. I was taken aback by it slightly, I wasn't expecting him to be so muscular. Veins slid down his chest, past his v-line and disappeared under his trousers. "You've got a pretty mouth, little one. Let's put it to use shall we?" His smirk was wicked as his hands pushed me to me knees.
His trousers were pooled at his ankles before long, his erection already leaking at the tip, a dark patch forming on his underwear. "To answer your question, yes, little one." Fire wracked my body, an intense heat sent straight to my core. My hands shook as I removed his restraints from him. His cock sprang free, thick and veiny before my eyes. I immediately took it into my hands, they appeared tiny in comparison. I ran them across the length before taking it in my mouth. It lay heavy against my tongue; I tried to take as much as I possibly could, his tip hitting the back of my throat quicker than I expected. I gagged and spluttered, pulling him out of me so I could regain myself. "What's wrong, slut? Never had a cock this big?" He antagonised me from above, hands threading into my hair, "Open wide."
I followed his orders and allowed him back into my mouth. Control was entirely his, his hips thrusting against my head. I was completely at his mercy, as I always wished to be. More gags came from me but he never stopped, he never yielded."Can't cum yet," He told me before pulling me off of his cock. But I brought my hands back to him, bringing him close to his orgasm again. "I thought you were a good girl, little one. Perhaps I should've taught you better. Bend over." He grabbed at me, pulling me from my knees and pushing me to his desk. I bent over, completely exposed to him, completely at his mercy. His large hands found their way to my flesh, running across it before delivering a hard smack my ass. A whimper left me, the stinging sensation causing more wetness to gather between my legs. "Look at how wet you are for me. Fucking pathetic," Another spank, and another, and another. "You know what you need? A real man. A real man to take care of you."
His fingers danced up my slit, toying with my entrance briefly before landing on my clit. "Yes, sir. Please, ruin me, professor." A groan echoed in the room before the sound of Mr MacKay kicking away his trousers. "Gonna use you now. This is gonna hurt, little one. Tell me if you want me to stop." He muttered in my ear. He took his cock in his hand and ran it across my slip, gathering the wetness before pushing into me. He stretched me open, the pain causing me more pleasure. "Shit." We hissed in unison from the feeling. "So tight, so fucking tight." Mr MacKay moaned, his hands forcing my hips into the desk. My nails dug into the wood below me, the euphoric feeling almost too much for me to bear. His pace started to quicken. Soon he was driving into me without mercy, using me for his own pleasure. Skin slapped against skin, the sound of moans and groans drowned the room.
His tight grasp on me broke to deliver another spank to my already red ass. "Fucking whore, my whore." He whimpered in my ear as he bent over the desk, his chest pressed into my back. The position didn't last long, he pulled out of me and turned me around so we were face-to-face once again. Mr MacKay entered me again, I wish I could've taken a picture because the sight of him was almost enough to make me cum on the spot. His hair was tousled, stray strands stuck to his forehead because of the sweat, his lips swollen and wet from kisses, parted from the feeling of my tight pussy gripping his thick cock. A hand made it's way to my throat as he pounded into me. He shoved me down onto his desk, his grip tightening every second. "S-sir, gonna..."
"I know, princess. I'm close too. Just hold on a little longer, keep your eyes open for me angel," My professor brought me back up to meet his lips once more briefly. We were chest-to-chest, our hands buried in each other's hair, sweat dripping from our bodies. "Cum for me, angel. Fucking cum," Warmth surged throughout my body as it pushed further against my professor. "Gonna cum," He warned me. Mr MacKay pulled out of me, his hand darting down to his cock, furiously tugging at it. His beautiful eyes screwed shut, the muscles in his chest and abdomen all tensed as ropes of hot cum shot out of his cock and onto my stomach.
"Fuck, Y/N," The room stilled. George's head rested in the crook of my neck, mine against his shoulder. The soreness had already begun to work it's way into my body, a small whimper left my swollen lips. As he heard the noise, he came back to meet my lips, placing a sweet kiss to them. It wasn't as lust-filled as all of the others we had shared that night, it was more passionate, more loving. "I should help with your assignment now." I chuckled against his chest, a laugh leaving him also. "Clean me up first, George."
"Shit, sorry. I like it when you say my real name." He smiled at me again before searching for something he could use to clean me up. The realisation had started to settle in, I had just slept with my professor. Would this be a one-time thing? Or a regular occurrence? Only time would tell.
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NOTICE
- i probably can write for more people, these are just the ones i remember. if you want to know if i can write for/know of hte, just send me an ask :)
- i absolutely can not write smut for the life of me
- i am terrible at writing long fics, so what i write might not be that long
more under keep reading
who i write for
CELEBRITIES
- chris evans
- jake gyllenhaal
- sebastian stan
- tom holland
- timothée chalamet
- henry cavill
- drew starkey
- ben hardy
- gwilym lee
- joe mazzello
- rami malek
- george mackay
- richard madden
- taron egerton
- dylan o’brien
- bill skarsgård
- charlie hunnam
- oscar isaac
- pedro pascal
- tom hardy
- will poulter
CHARACTERS
- geralt of rivia (the withcher)
- michael gray (peaky blinders)
- thomas shelby (peaky blinders)
- leo west (ibiza: love drunk)
- rafe cameron (obx)
- mitch rapp (american assassin)
- bucky barnes (mcu)
- charles blackwood (we have always lived in the castle)
- frank (endings, beginnings)
- peter parker (mcu)
- steve rogers (mcu)
- ransom drysdale (knives out)
- johnny storm (fantastic four 2005)
- roman godfrey (hemlock grove)
- mickey (villains)
- bruce wayne (dcu)
- nathan bateman (ex machina)
- santiago garcia (triple frontier)
- will miller (triple frontier)
- benny miller (triple frontier)
- frankie morales (triple frontier)
- javier peña (narcos)
- jack daniels/agent whiskey (kingsman: tgc)
- michael langdon (ahs: apocalypse)
- xavier plympton (ahs: 1984)
- kai anderson (ahs: cult)
- dandy mott (ahs: freakshow)
- fezco (euphoria)
- eddie munson (stranger things)
- steve harrington (stranger things)
- carmy berzatto (the bear)
- lip gallagher (shameless u.s.)
- kevin ball (shameless u.s.)
- homelander (the boys)
- billy butcher (the boys)
- soldier boy (the boys)
- kendall roy (succession)
- tom wambsgan (succession)
- stewy hosseini (succession)
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I wanted it to be a cute and romantic surprise
Warnings: SMUT, baby
Pairings: George Mackay x Reader
Summary: I’m late, but it’s supposed to be a Valentine’s Day SMUT fic! George making you an awesome surprise, that ended up not as he wanted. For gif thanks to @madisonmusing
Peachy-red sunrise sent warm rays through your window. The lukewarm wind flew near your face to wake you up. You frown and open eyes. To fully wake up you did your usual morning routine - massage your face a little bit, get more comfortable in a warm bed and check the phone.
*New message" Wake up, sleeping beauty!
Warm tingling the sensation quickly spread throughout your body, making you stand up from your bed. You checked the date - 14 February. Gosh, it's valentine’s day. Only now you remembered that your boyfriend George far away, working on a new project. You wanted to go with him, but your work made you stay at home! Every day was like torture. You couldn't help but think about him.
You tried to separate yourself from all of that Valentine’s rush. Festive stand in every shop made you angry at the whole world, why you can be together with your love? You tried to calm yourself with thoughts about sweet massages, facetime maybe some sexting, but it is not working! You wanted him here and now! It’s your day, that you meant to spend in each other embraces!
Making your way into the kitchen your attention was drafted to a beautiful bouquet of yellow and white roses! You gushed, rushing closely to observe this wonder. Wait...how did it get here? You thought. You did not believe your thoughts - only someone with a key can get these flowers inside your house. Observing every flower with its delicate petals your attention was drawn to a small object that was attached to one of the roses with a pastel pink ribbon. A note!
"Little girl, happy valentine’s day! I love you to the moon and back, so I just can't stay away without giving you all my love on this romantic day. I get you a present 💕 you will find it in a backyard. Come on, my sunshine, you will like it!"
Why did you instantly think about a puppy? With a slowly burning excitement, you started to walk through the kitchen into the backyard. Door, that was leading into a backyard was closed by a thick curtain. Slowly, you get fabric in a hand and move it away. As you did, lots of bright light mixed with pink and red colors blinded you. Your eyes still not ready for that amount of light! Such beautiful weather for the mid of February, you thought, as something more bright and exiting gets in your eye!
"Good morning little girl" for a moment you thought that it was some kind of joke, projection or hallucination of your still asleep mind. You scratched your eyes, trying to gain focus on a view in front of you. George was staying there, materialized, your love, sweet sunny boy, was there, in his warm puffy golden brown sweater, hair slightly messed, so pretty. He gifted you with a wide smile. Only after realizing what's happening, you noticed a wooden picnic table, covered with a flowery cloth. It was served with sushi, your favorite liquor, flowers and candles. Around the table with chairs were levitating a lot of balloons!
"You will stand there, or...?" Not giving a chance to finish his question you ran to him, jumping in George's embrace. He catches you, holding your hips that you positioned around his waist, hugging tightly. His one hand rushed to your silky, tangles from a night hair, tugging it lightly, only to get you even closer to him. The smell of his cologne and warmth of his body gets you on a nine cloud. You were the happiest person in the world. George's big and strong hands caressing your back and hair. You wanted to stay like that forever. His plump limps started to kiss your head. Couldn’t hold yourself anymore, you rushed your lips on his plump ones, harshly kissing and sucking on his lower lip. Your sudden move making a growl from his mouth. An outburst of feelings making him a huge mess. Between kisses he bites your lip slightly, sending shivers down your spine and fuel desire.
"You know, I wanted it to be a classic romantic surprise" he said between your passionate make-out session, panting. He set you on the grass, still caressing your back and slightly squeeze your hip.
"Fuck that" couldn’t contain your desire you started to kiss him again, you tugged on his belt.
"Ohh watch your language, little girl, or I will need to punish you" one word from his mouth can drive you crazy. With one movement of a hand, he undid his belt, throwing it away.
"I don't mind being punished" you half whispered with a raspy voice, slightly unzipping his jeans.
"Even though it's a holiday now? This isn't why I prepared all of this" You know, he is teasing you, trying to make you beg, fuel flame of desire.
"Food can wait" he took off his jeans, staying in underwear. You can see a prominent bulge. As you tried to touch it, he quickly grabs your hand and harshly turning you around, so you're looking at the well-served table. He bent you against the table, holding you in place with one hand. With other he took off his underwear, taking a hard cock in hand. Teasing you some more, he started to move his throbbing member on your pussy, spreading natural lube on it.
"You're so wet for me, best gift ever". Not giving you time to say something he pushed inside you, stretching your walls. You loudly moan, not caring about neighbors or people outside your house, trying to adjust to his length. He slowly moved in and out. It takes only two pushes to start rocking him, now it makes him moan in pleasure.
He was thrusting you, getting harder, moves gets sloppier. He is slightly laying on your back, still holding himself to not put on you full weight. His breath hot against your neck. He started giving your skin open-mouthed kisses, sending another wave of shivers. You started to feel your climax coming.
"Babe, I can't hold longer" he said, panting and biting your neck. After some more thrusts, you felt a huge outburst of pleasure, that made you loudly moan, almost squeaking "George". You, calling his name, made your boyfriend cum a few thrusts afterward. You fell on your knees undone, harshly panting. He sat, hugging you from behind, you were breathing hard in unison.
"I'm sorry babe, you're too sexy. I couldn’t hold myself anymore. I wanted it to be a cute and romantic surprise" George said in an upset tone.
"Heeey" you turned to face him, grabbing his face in your palms. "its the best naughty and romantic surprise I've ever had. You're here, with me! What I can even ask for?" You said, pepper him with kisses on a nose and jaw.
"Now let's not let this tasty food to lay there"
"I love you Y/N"
"I love you too my valentine"
#george mackay#george mackay x reader#george mackay imagine#imagines#valentine's day#valentine's imagine#how i live now#true history of the kelly gang#1917#1917 imagine
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a floor3 - whether you moved in with your childhood best friends, college roommate, a coworker trying to save some money, or took up an add for roommate wanted, everyone living on floor 3 have found a community among their neighbors.
This is a simple apartment rp following young adults in their late 20s living in NYC. I want this to feel like a close knit community that gives you a fun and relaxed place to write and develop your muse.
so we’re not having a main, everything will be within the discord. This is a tumblr rp tho so most interaction will happen on the dash.
basic rules:
activity is gonna be nice and loose, ( though it is highly encouraged that you stay somehow engaged and active regularly so the rp has some life ) as long as you’re still showing interest in being in the group you’re good. But please do be honest if you’re not feeling it anymore.
be inclusive please! this is a small group it shouldn’t be hard to write with everyone. I want this to be like a little family
inclusivity goes towards ooc too since there will be a discord with an ooc chat and I don’t want anyone to feel left out
please tag any triggers and put smut and anything triggering under read more
I’m not gonna make a list of banned fcs, but use logic and if I have the right to deny an fc if I believe them to be problematic or would make member uncomfortable
be kind and have fun
apartments:
3A { beckett “beck” quinn + brooklyn mccarthy }
3B { lea chen + jack avery + kelly munoz }
3C { avia weiss + alccia huang }
3D { malcolm “mal” smith }
3E { julian “goldie” golding + }
* right now the muse cap is at 10 but I’m open to expanding eventually if the group wanted to
app:
you can send this through ask/submit/or im
{ fc. age. gender. pronouns } Did you see FIRST LAST left their door cracked open again. You think they’d learn after living in UNIT # for AMOUNT OF TIME. Last time they did this you could hear SONG by ARTIST blasting in the hallway. If you passed by you might have even caught a glimpse of them doing HOBBY. The rest of the floor says they can be TRAIT and TRAIT. Seeing them in the halls always reminds me of THREE AESTHETICS. { ooc name / pronouns / tmz }
* the age range is 25-30
** I suggest the amount of time living there being at least a year so every characters feels connected in someway
taken:
julian “goldie” golding { maxence danet-fauvel. twenty-seven. cis male. he/him }
avia weiss { zoey deutch. twenty-six. cis woman. she/her }
lea chen { natasha liu bordizzo. twenty-six. cis woman. she/her }
malcolm “mal” smith { ben hardy. twenty-six. male. he/him}
beckett “beck” quinn { gavin leatherwood. twenty six. cis male. he/him. }
jack avery { george mackay. twenty seven. cis male. he/him }
brooklyn mccarthy { aisha dee. twenty-six. cis woman. she / her}
alccia huang { jessica henwick. 25. cis woman. she/her }
kelly munoz { tommy martinez. twenty-seven. cis man. he/him }
#oc rp#appless rp#small rp#city rp#apartment rp#photopea fucked with the quality of this graphic but I don't have ps so this will have to do
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Let's play a game
A/N - Who remembers the snippet I posted ages ago with the bad boy / good girl. Well, I finally did something with it.
Please enjoy, Chapter one.
The warmth of the sun was the first thing I felt when I woke up, coating me in a blanket of warmth. It was too much warmth, and I was rapidly becoming uncomfortably hot. The second was the throbbing in my head, undoubtedly brought on by all the alcohol I had consumed the night before. And the third was the heavyweight of an arm across my torso. Who did the arm belong to? Well, to be honest, I wasn’t quite sure.
“Shit,” I whispered, cautiously turning on the plush bed, careful to not startle the owner of the arm that lay all too casually around my waist. “Shit, shit.” I moved the arm carefully off my waist, putting it beside its owner.
The owner of the arm was none other than Jude Hastings, the boy I’d known since I was eight, and the boy who’d mercilessly teased me throughout school and somewhat into our adult lives.
People, primarily our parents, often called it teasing— a bit of harmless flirting between an adolescent boy and a dorky adolescent girl, so they said. I, on the other hand, referred to it as warfare.
Which would lead to a lifelong war between Jude Hastings and me.
“Fuck,” I stood from the bed and looked down at what was covering my body… It wasn’t much. All I had on was what I’m assuming was Hastings’ button-down shirt, and that was it. No bra, no pants… And I had no clue where my underwear had gotten to. “Pull yourself together, Darcy,” I whispered to myself. “Just find your shit and get out.” I pinched the bridge of my nose, taking five deep breaths. My mother always told me it was a way to destress, but guess what, mom, I am still stressed. “Okay. Pull it together.” I had seven things I had to find in this apartment, and hopefully, it was all contained to this one room. Anything I couldn’t uncover would just have to be left as a sacrifice to the apartment demon.
My pants and top were the easiest to find, laying at the end of the bed a dead giveaway of where Hastings and I had ended our night standing, or at least standing for the most part. I vaguely recall him pulling me off the bed just to bend me over the desk he had pushed against the wall… I guess that counts as sort of standing.
“Jacket…” I crept around the room, trying to find where my favourite corduroy jacket had landed in the thralls of passion I had shared with the still sleeping demon. “Gotcha,” I pulled on the sleeve bringing it out from behind the chair that sat pushed into the corner. Another memory of Hastings and I making out on the very chair flashed through my mind bringing a blush hot enough to make the top of my ears burn. “Shoes, bra and underwear,” I sat on the floor, pulling my jacket over my arms looking around for a sign of any of the missing clothing. I quickly spotted my bra hanging over the bedpost at the top end of the bed. “Ahha.” I pushed up from the floor and padded across the carpet, keeping a keen eye on Hastings to make sure he didn’t suddenly wake up and catch me in the shameful morning after clothes collection. If I was lucky, I’d leave with all my belongings and whatever scraps of dignity I had left. “Four down, three left.” I scooped the bra off the bedpost and shoved it in my pocket. Watching Hastings, I dropped to my knees and looked underneath the bed in hopes of finding at least one of the remaining items, if not all of them. “Shoes.” I gripped the heel on one of my boots and pulled it towards me, half an item down… The second boot was more brutal to get to. I had to crawl at least halfway under the bed to reach it, somehow it had landed so far underneath the bed last night, but at least now I had shoes to wear for my solemn journey home.
Was underwear really that necessary for a journey home? Could I just leave without them? And my purse, I mean, I’m sure any decent human being with any dignity would give it back to someone who’d left it at their house. Still, then again, this was Jude Alexander Hastings we were talking about. He wasn’t known to me for being a decent human being. Besides, cancelling all my credit cards and getting a new I.D sounded a lot more appealing than risking Hastings waking up with me still inside his apartment with minimal clothing.
“Fuck it.” I army crawled backwards out from under the bed, careful not to get any carpet burns on any delicate parts. Trust me, one time of having sex on some carpet, and you know the pain well enough to not do it again. Once I emerged from the pits of the bed, I took a final look around, trying to find the elusive underwear or purse. “Note to self, cancel the credit card.” I stood up and walked to the pile of items I’d begun to form at the end of the bed: pants, top, bra, shoes and jacket. Five out of seven ain’t bad in the grand scheme of things. I mean, was it my favourite purse? Yes, and were they my favourite pair of lucky underwear? Yes. Could I buy more to avoid any further interactions with Jude Hastings? Fuck yes.
“Missing something?” The husky voice that haunted my alcohol-soaked brain startled me into dropping my pants to the floor. I spun on the ball of my feet and looked at him, lazily lying in his bed. The sheet hanging from his waist was the demon man himself. Since when did he have abs? - No, not the point, Darcy.
“Two things actually,” I felt the rush of heat blossoming on my cheeks as I finally allowed myself to look over his bare chest.
“Would these be one of them?” His hand rose, hooked around his pointer finger was my black lace thong, the one I’d been crawling around this whole fucking room looking for. Bastard. “They sure look like yours.” He held the up higher, squinting with one eye.
“If they’re not mine, perhaps they’re yours,” I smirked in self-satisfaction as the smirk on his face faltered. One Edwards.
“Well, if you’re sure they’re not yours.” He bunched them up, leaning over to his bedside table. “I think I’ll keep them then.”
“Wait.” I yelped, springing onto the bed. “Give them to me,” I reached for them. Holding my hand out, waiting for the lace scrap to be returned to me. “I need them to get home.”
“No, I don’t think so.” He dropped them into his bedside table. “You said they were mine.” One Hastings.
“God, I hate you,” My eyes turned to slits as the smirk came back to his face more prominent than the one I’d managed to make him lose moments ago. He shut the drawer and returned to his previous position, his whisky coloured eyes running over my form.
“Not what you were saying last night.”
“Was that before the double shots of tequila? Or was it before the fishbowl margarita?” I moved back, standing at the end of the bed, pulling my pants up over my hips. Usually, I’d feel self-conscious dressing and undressing in front of someone I’d just had sex with. Still, by this point in our lives, Hastings had already made numerous comments about how ‘plump’ I was, as he liked to call it. I didn’t have time to dwell on the idea that I gave him a front-row pass to see how correct his childish name-calling was. “Or maybe it was before the game of beer pong?”
“Yeah,” He dropped his head and laughed. “It started about there.”
“Hastings, you know as well as I do that I don’t remember a thing about last night, right?”
“Would you like me to give you a play-by-play?” I unbuttoned his shirt with nimble fingers. For once, my skill of unbuttoning button-downs came in use.
“No, thanks. I think I can surmise what’s happened from the lack of underwear.” And the memories of him pushing me up against his front door helped with the overall picture.
“It was your idea,” I stole a look at the bedside table where the same old alarm clock I was sure he’d had since middle school sat. Nine-thirty. Shit. Fuck. Shit.
“Was it now?” I didn’t really have time to hear how this interaction was my fault, but I was curious. Even if I was supposed to be meeting my parents for brunch in half an hour, and by the looks of it, I was going to have to suffer through without underwear.
“Oh yeah.” He fell back onto the bed. “The boys and I were at the bar, and you came up to me… You know I was expecting to have another verbal sparring match with you, one I’d ultimately win.”
“Doubtful,”
“When you began to flirt with me.” I could hear the smirk in his voice even with my back facing him.
“Is that so.” I sat on the edge of the bed and picked up one of my boots, unzipping the side.
“Oh yeah,” I heard the shuffle of sheets on the bed behind me and then felt the warmth of his chest pressing onto my covered back, heat radiating from where his skin touched me. “Never expected this from you, Edwards.” He moved my hair to the side, his fingers leaving goosebumps on my neck as he trailed a fingertip along the skin. “Really, I never did.” His lips touched the skin now, ghosting the same pattern his fingertips had traced.
“Alright,” I stood up, balancing on one foot as I tried to shove my foot into the boot. “I don’t know what this.” I wiggled a finger between our bodies. “Is, but last night was all there was. There will be no encore, M’kay.” I knelt down, zipping up the boot before shoving my foot into the second.
“If you’re sure you can live without one.” He moved back to the top of the bed, leaning back on one arm, watching me scamper to make myself presentable. “You know you’re still wearing my shirt.”
“Thank you, Captain obvious.”
“I’d like it back. It’s one of my favourites.”
“And those.” I jutted a finger at the bedside table where my underwear remained captive. “Were my favourite pair of underwear.” I smiled sweetly at him. “So we’ll call it even,” I brushed my hair with my fingers, trying to make some sort of progress with it so it didn’t look like I’d just been to pound town… which apparently from the ache in my legs I had been.
“You know that’s not helping,”
“What isn’t.”
“Trying to make yourself look like you haven’t just had one of the best nights of your life.”
“Bold of you to assume that,”
“Not an assumption. You told me so much yourself last night.”
Fucking Hastings. That’s it, fuck it. I was getting my underwear back. Even if it meant a small game of seduction.
“Look, Jude.” I let my voice drop into a whisper as I walked towards where he lay comfortably. I flung my legs over his body, straddling his waist. I couldn’t help but internally melt when his hands clinging to my waist, pressing me down onto him. I’m human. What can I say? The thin sheet gave everything away, and I had to admit, Hastings was packing more than I thought. Self-satisfaction flowed through me as I saw his eyes widen slightly, his pupils dilating as his fingers moving in circles on my waist. “I want you to know something about last night.” His eyes locked with mine as my right hand held onto his chin, keeping our eyes locked, my left going to the bedside table quietly pulling it open.
“Yeah?” His Adam’s apple bopped as he swallowed.
“Last night was,” I moved his head, so he was looking away from the drawer as my hand began to search for the fabric. “Was something that I…” My fingertips grazed the lace. BINGO! “I’m going to pretend doesn’t exist.”
“Oh really?” His hand quickly left my hip and grabbed around my waist. “Because I’m going to remember every little detail.” The lace slipped from between my fingertips as he flipped us. “Especially every time I open this draw.” I heard the draw slam shut and all hopes I had of leaving with my underwear gone.
“Get off me.” His right hand pulled my leg up and wrapped it around his waist. Oh god… he was good.
“Oh no, you started this.” He laughed, his chest pressing into mine with each exhaled laugh. “I’m just finishing it.”
“I need you to get off me so I can leave Hastings.”
“I dunno, I’m quite comfortable.” His hand pushed the fabric of his shirt up, revealing a tiny slither of my skin. “I like how you look in my bed, a forbidden fruit who doesn’t belong.” I let out a snort. If this was his attempt at flirting, he had a lot of work to do. “But here you are,”
“You are right. I certainly don’t look like the type of girl you’d waste your time on, so how about you let me up, and we pretend this didn’t happen.”
“No, I don’t think I like that idea,” His voice came out in a soft whisper.
“Why?”
“I was always told girls like you,” I felt a rush of enjoyment as his eyes ran over my body, a rush I didn’t want to feel. “The good girls who their parents think their perfect when really they’re the worst of the worst are the best,” It was beginning to be a struggle to concentrate as his fingertips brushed the hair away from my forehead. “And from what I’ve been told, you’re the best of them… So I want to find out myself.”
“Oh really?”
“Really. Why did you come up to me last night?” Why did I go up to him last night because I was lonely? Because I was sick of April talking about her fiancé? Because as much as I don’t want to admit it, verbally sparring with Hastings was a highlight.
“I heard that the reformed bad boys are the best,” His finger dragged along my jawline. “And I heard you’re one of the best.” I countered with a smirk.
“Oh really?” He mimicked.
“You tell me,” His fingertip tapped against my lips. Impulsively I nipped on the tip.
“Let’s play a game.”
“I’m listening.”
“The game to end all of our little games for good… No more practice jokes, no more telling my parents I got some random girl pregnant.” He chuckled.
“Then you can’t egg my car anymore or let down my tyres.”
“Fine.” He conceded. “Then let’s sweet talk,” His lips went to my neck, placing sweet kisses along the skin. “Let’s play fight, talk twenty-four-seven,”
“I’m no good at sweet-talking, and I don’t think I could stand talking to your for so long.” My voice came out breathy as my senses zero’d in on the feeling of his lips.
“Let’s wish each other good morning, and good night every day… We’ll take walks together.”
“I’d prefer a ride on your motorbike.” He let out a chuckle, the skin under his lips practically vibrating from the motion.
“I’ll give you a nickname,” His lips were on my jaw now, my hands we on his back, nails digging into the skin, I’m sure leaving moon-shaped indents. “Let’s hang out with each other’s friends.”
“Your friends are dicks.” His lips dropped close to mine, a chaste kiss being left on the right side.
“We’ll go on dates, talk all night on the phone… I’ll hold you, kiss you.” His lips moved to the other side. “We’ll make love, bang, fuck whatever you want to call it.”
“I’m waiting for the game part, Hastings. Right now, it sounds like you just want me to be your girlfriend. I mean, I know last night was good, but really this good?”
“The game is, Whoever falls in love first, loses.” He finally pulled away, his right hand still rubbing circles on my hip bone.
“Doesn’t seem like much of a game.”
“Then why do you seem so scared?”
Was this asshole serious? I was never scared, especially not when it came to challenging him, beating him.
“I’m not.”
“Then what do you say?”
“So you want to pretend we’re a thing to all of our friends, all of our family, just to make one of us fall in love with the other first for what? Bragging rights and heartbreak?”
“Tell me something.” His lips hovered inches from mine. I could feel the warmth of his breath, and how the hell did he not have morning breath? “How good would it feel to know you conned me into loving you, then breaking my heart,”
He had a point. After all the years of heartache and teasing he’d caused me, it would be fun to break his heart into a million tiny shattered pieces.
“What would we tell everyone?” His body moved against mine as he shrugged.
“That we’ve reconnected or connected whatever you want to say.”
“You really want to do this?” My brow raised in suspicion.
“Make you fall in love with me.” I nodded my head. “Oh hell yeah,”
“Fine.” I smirked. “Let’s play a game.”
#george mackay#dean charles chapman#calahan skogman#Ben Hardy#dylan o'brien#George Mackay Smut#Dean Charles Chapman smut#Calahan Skogman smut#Ben Hardy Smut#Dylan O'Brien Smut#Harry Styles#Harry Styles Smut
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mirrors - george mackay x reader
requested: yes/no
warnings: fingering lol
if you know me personally, please forget what you saw :)
it was sunday, the day before george was set to leave for 2 months to work on his new film. you were both just lounging around the house, embracing every moment together you could. currently, you were sat on his lap head tucked into the nape of his neck, breathing in his scent trying to remember this feeling.
“you alright love?” george asked, his voice low in a sweet whisper.
“mhm.”
“what’s on your mind darling?”
“nothing – it’s just, who’s going to take care of me when you’re gone?”
“i’ll always take care of you love, ill only be a phone call away.”
“no, i mean like, physically, if you get what I mean,” you mumbled in response, a blush creeping it’s way up your cheeks.
“well, i could always show you how to take care of yourself,” he quipped, his pupils growing but maintaining their lock on you.
“lead the way, mackay.”
without a second thought, he had your legs around his waist, his hands supporting you on your arse, as he carried you to your shared bedroom. But instead of your back hitting the bed like you had thought, he sat you down between his legs facing your full body mirror. oh.
one hand wrapped around your waist, the other trailed it’s way down and fiddled with the waist band of your pyjama shorts.
“is this ok?” he asked, even in the most intimate moments, he would make sure you were okay with what he was doing- one of the many reasons why you loved him. you merely nodded in response.
his hands pushed the shorts down over you legs and off your body, throwing them to the side, your choice to not wear underwear was prominent at this moment. his hand took yours and guided them down to your most sensitive area, the veins on his arm popping out making you wet with anticipation. he dropped his grasp on your hand, his fingers gliding in between your folds and rubbing small circles onto your clit sending tingles throughout your body and making your toes curl.
“now watch,” george said, his voice deeper than usual.
he placed one finger inside and began pumping it in and out of you, his thumb still making circles. as he inserted a second finger, george’s chin dropped to rest on your shoulder, his head tilting to the side to nip at your neck leaving red marks that would form bruises for sure. his hands worked like magic, his fingers curling inside you to reach that spot that sent you wild and you could feel your climax approaching. you think he could feel your walls begin to tighten around him, a feeling he recognised but always felt pride when it happened – he loved to make you like this, he was the reason you were a moaning mess in his arms and he loved it. but before you could embrace a sweet release he pulled his fingers out, causing you to groan at the loss of contact, and raised them to your face. you knew what to do – you took them in your mouth and sucked them clean, a smirk forming on george’s face.
“now it’s your turn, just how i showed you,” he whispered into your ear, his words commanding but his tone soft. your hands found the same rhythm he had, first one finger and then two, only the sounds of your moaning and heavy breath filled the room. your head falling back to rest on his chest in euphoria. you never knew how good you could feel alone, especially when george wasn’t there to make you feel that way.
“that’s it baby, just like that,” his words of encouragement seemed to echo around the room, as you moaned out in pleasure. his hand reached up to your chest to grab your breast, playing with your nipple through the thin fabric of your t-shirt. he noticed the way your hips began to buck into your own hands, and he knew you were close, so he wrapped a tight arm around your waist to hold you still, only allowing the grinding movements your body made to ride out your high. when you were finished, he took your other hand in his and brought your fingers up to his own mouth, sucking them softly as you had before.
“now that wasn’t to hard, was it?” his tone mocking as he chuckled.
“shush you. i need a shower now, want to join me?” and you don’t think you’d ever seen his stand up so fast.
#1917#george mackay#george mackay imagine#george mackay x reader#george mackay smut#will schofield#will schofield x reader#will schofield imagine#dean charles chapman#dean charles chapman imagine#dean charles chapman x reader#will schofield smut#forgive me father for i have sinned#wish my own boyfriend would do this ngl to you lads#lol im sorry for this#jemima if you're reading this#please dont judge me#a girl has needs sis
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In The Trenches - George Mackay x Reader
Navigating the trenches and obstacles of No Man’s Land was hard enough during the filming of 1917. No one expected you and lead actor George Mackay to actually have to fight your way out of the set when things suddenly started to go wrong.
A/N: Here it is! I hope you all enjoy it and I might be writing some more and maybe adding a tagslist, so who knows!
Words: 1562
Warnings: possible spoilers for 1917 (if you squint), cursing, a lil making out
---
No matter how illustrious a film promised to be, the last thing you ever wanted to do was slide on your ass into a death trap replica of a WWI trench and paint actors with just enough mud and fake horse shit and whatever else they needed to look the right amount of miserable. Yet there you were, sliding on your ass into a trench replica to dip your brushes in the mud and then wipe it on people’s faces and so on.
The film itself was an incredible feat of cinematography and physical work, especially from the two leads, Dean and George. They were both sweet young men and were very respectful and cooperative, especially when you had to cover them in various trench shit.
At that particular moment, you were being led through ‘No Man’s Land’ to where George and Dean were. One of the challenges that Lance Corporals Schofield and Blake faced in the film involved navigating through a boobytrapped German trench and bunker system. Your job was to be ready in case the scene had to be filmed again and makeup had to be fixed.
As you made your way over to the other trench, you couldn’t help but feel your stomach twist up in knots. You knew why too: George Mackay. The tall, blond, blue-eyed boy had been a constant customer in your makeup chair since filming had started and even before then, you had been on set during the six-month rehearsals. You had watched him and Dean rehearse their scenes and do military drills and you couldn’t deny the fact that you were attracted to him. He was like a magnet.
And the craziest part was he often approached you first. It was terrifying.
You never allowed yourself to dwell on it, which is why the five-ten minute journey from trench to trench was torture. By the time you reached your destination, your hands were shaking.
“You know he has to film his scenes, right? You don’t have to talk to him.” Rachel, the other hairstylist, offered you a comforting smile. She knew all about your infatuation with George.
“I know, but part of me wants to. The other side of me wants to take this golf cart and drive as far away as I can.” You whined, showing her a weak smile in return. She laughed.
“C’mon Juliet. Let’s go find Romeo and make sure his foundation isn’t running.”
“You aren’t funny. At ALL.” You groaned, sliding out of the cart.
The crew was usually set up in a base camp, and the cameras would follow Dean and George wherever they were going because of how the movie was being shot.
Unfortunately for us, they had already done one take and needed to do it again. This meant we had to go into the German bunker and fix the boys’ makeup.
“You know, when I applied to be a makeup artist in the movie world, I didn’t think I’d be drudging through trenches.” You muttered to Rachel as an assistant led you through the bunker, all of you holding flashlights. She snorted.
“You know, me neither.” A very familiar British accent ascended from the darkness, causing you to let out a shriek. The accent began to laugh and revealed himself to be the one and only George Mackay.
“Oh shit Y/N, I didn’t mean to scare you.” He grinned. George was covered in ‘dust’ and ‘debris’ from the disaster he had just recently survived, which meant you would have to clean him off and reapply what you could.
“Oh you asshat.” You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “C’mon, where can I fix you up?”
“This way. Oh, and Dean should be this way too.” George hooked his thumbs in the straps of his pack and began down a passageway, you and Rachel close at his heels. “Be careful.” He added.
It didn’t take long for your trio to find the cameramen and Dean, which meant that you and George were off sitting by yourselves.
And you had to touch his face.
“So, Y/N…” George began, those blue eyes of his intently watching your face as you worked. You cursed internally; he could see you blushing so hard.
“So, George… or do I call you Lance Corporal William Schofield until we’re done filming?” You asked, turning away for a moment to rummage in your bag. George chuckled.
“Was that wit and sarcasm, Miss Y/L/N?” He raised an eyebrow.
“Maybe. I’m feeling bold today.”
“Alright, I respect that.”
“Thanks, look up please.” You gently lifted his chin with one shaking hand and then began blotting makeup under his eyes with the other.
“Why are you shaking?” His voice had softened and he almost sounded nervous himself. Slowly, George removed your hands from his face and held them in his own. “Are you nervous? Cold? Both?”
“I…”
Before you could answer, the set started to shake. Across the room, the cameramen lept to their feet and began to run out of the small room, desperate to protect the camera equipment. Dean and Rachel glanced over at you and George, worry etched onto their faces.
“George?” You squeaked out. You clutched his hand as the ceiling began to spew dust.
“Y/N, it’s gonna be alright, I promise.” He said slowly. “We have to make our way over to the exit. Dean and Rachel are on their way out, we have to follow.”
“Okay.”
As soon as we took our first step, the ceiling cracked and the exit caved in, covering us in dust and debris.
“George?!” You screamed, your throat coated in the terrible dust in the air that you couldn’t cough out. You couldn’t see, and his hand was no longer in your grip. “George?!”
“I’m here!” His cry was muffled, but close. “Y/N, where are you?”
“Okay, George? I can’t see.” You began to scramble along the ground like a madwoman, trying to feel for him.
“Did you have a flashlight?”
You had a lighter in your pocket, not for any particular reason, but you had one. By the grace of the good Lord, it was still there. “George, I have a solution.”
“Thank goodness!”
“It involves fire.”
“Absolutely not.”
“George!” You groaned and pulled the lighter out of your pocket. You gave it a few flicks and suddenly there was a warm pocket of light surrounding you. “George, come to the light!”
He was there in a second, his hair wild and his grin full of relief and joy. “Thank god,” George whispered, reaching forward to wipe some dust off your face. “You know, this is supposed to be a stunt.”
“You’re so not funny right now.” You grinned.
“I’m not trying to be. This is supposed to be a stunt.” George moved closer, his eyes shining in what little light you had. “But if I had to be trapped down here with anyone, I’m glad it’s you.”
If breathing wasn’t already difficult because of the dust, his words almost stopped your breath entirely. “W-What?”
George slid the lighter from your hand and wedged it between some rocks, out of your way. “Y/N, you know exactly what I said.”
You blinked a few times.
“Yes, yes I do.” You took a deep breath, grabbed his dusty military uniform, and pressed your lips to his.
George was stunned, a small squeak escaping him before his senses finally returned to him. He seemed almost frustrated that his body wouldn’t move fast enough as he slid his arms around you and yanked you up onto his lap. You detached one hand from the straps of his uniform and slid it into his hair, pulling ever so slightly. George sucked in a sharp breath, his grip tightening on your waist.
“Shit, Y/N.” He hissed against your lips. Those blue eyes held a look you’d never seen before. They were dark, hungry. In the flickering flame from your lighter, he looked almost scary, like he was looking for something to consume.
Somebody to consume.
“George…” You whispered, gently running your fingers through his hair again. His eyes fluttered shut and he let out a satisfied hum. He pressed his lips lightly to yours, then pulled away and dropped his head into the crook of your neck with a shaky exhale.
“Mm Y/N we aren’t supposed to be doing this.” He murmured. With every movement of his mouth against your skin, the knots in your stomach got tighter and tighter. “So when we get out of here, will you go to dinner with me?”
“Dinner?” You grinned. George glanced up at you, a hopeful smile gracing his lips.
“Yeah, I just thought-”
“OI, GEORGE? Y/N? YOU ALIVE?” Light broke into the little room and Dean’s voice followed. You quickly slid off George’s lap and grabbed your lighter.
“Hey, George?”
“Yeah?”
You took his hand and squeezed it gently. “I’d love to have dinner with you, as long as I don’t get stuck in any more trenches.”
He laughed. “No promises, but I’ll do my best. For you.”
#george mackay#george mackay imagines#george mackay x reader#george mackay is my husband#fluff#smut#here it is as promised#pls enjoy#1917 film#william schofield
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yours pt. 2
PART ONE HERE
pairings: george mackay x ofc.
word count: 2.1k
warnings: smut +18, oral (f and m receiving) and basically narrated porn.
a/n: pure sin, it’s just the quarantine affecting my hormones and this also kind of has a breeding kink?? maybe idk well enjoy and let me know what u think, ily and stay safe oh and i didn’t proof read
When her head started spinning and everything suddenly became funny (even competing with George to see who could turn each other on the fastest) Danna thought maybe she shouldn't have drunk all those vodka shots plus the cocktail.
She felt Lacey's hands tug on her arm, trying to get her attention as Danna's eyes were only focused on the tall blonde guy who she called boyfriend.
"Dance with me, c'mon." The girl slurred as she turned her around so Danna's back was against Lacey's front.
When she was fully against her friend, Danna looked around for George but he was nowhere to be seen on the dancefloor now and she felt kinda disappointed, the game they both were playing was starting to become really fun.
"The boys are back on the couches, by the way." Lacey said against her ear as they grinded on each other.
Danna directed her eyes towards the place and there he was looking like a god making her legs forget how to function for a split second, drink in hand with his legs spread, his whole demeanor seeming like an invitation to sit on his lap.
George caught her staring and smirked, he wasn't so far away, so she could see half of his face, the way he was biting his lip so immersed on her dancing seductively with the other girl.
"I'm gonna get another drink." Danna said leaving almost immediately, not even caring if Lacey said something back.
When she got to the bar, George was already walking over to her, eyes fixed on her body looking up and down like he was ready to devour her body, she felt weakness overcoming her whole body. She wanted him. Badly.
He stood besides her while she ordered, simply staring at her. Danna wanted to punch him for not trying anything the only thing he was managing to do was making her sexual frustration grow.
"Are you going to stare all night?" She turned to him while the bartender handed her the vodka shot and she drank it immediately.
George chuckled, getting closer and resting his right arm on the bar table as he lowered a little so he could be face to face with her.
"No. I intend to fuck you so good you can't even walk tomorrow." Danna smirked, leaning in to trap his lip between her teeth, earning a a subtle groan from George.
"Then take me home."
"What about staying till the end?" He asked, lowering his hand, resting it on her waist.
"It's 3am, George. And I don't know if you haven't realized yet but Clara and Kit are nowhere to be seen."
And that was it for him, grabbing her hand he leaded her outside just waving everyone goodbye before rushing out of the place.
He stopped a cab. The ride was short, their loft no more than 12 blocks away, but the tension made it seem like the longest one ever. George placed his hand on her tight the whole ride, tightening the grip now and then making Danna wish he would come closer where she needed him the most.
When they finally got to the building Danna sighed, 4th floor, fuck. When did she thought it was a good idea.
"Elevator's here." George said letting her get in first.
Once the doors were closed he turned around, a devilish smirk plastered on his face as he approached her placing one of his hands on her waist and traveling the other one from the curve of her tits to her throat, tightening the grip.
"Are you going to take me like a good girl tonight?" He asked gracing his lips against hers. She closed her eyes waiting for him to kiss her. But the sudden lost of contact made her look at him instantly.
"I asked you something, Danna." His right hand going from her waist to grip her core, making her let out a throaty moan.
"Y-yes. I will."
George hangs left her body, the feeling of his touch still lingering. The doors opened and George wasted no time on taking her hand again, opening the door from the loft and getting both of them inside.
Leading her to the leaving room, he sat on the couch in front of the huge window. Danna stood in between his legs not knowing what to do, the arousal being too much for her to handle.
“What do you want?”
Her knees almost gave out trying to come out with an answer for him but his hand are already holding up the hem of her skirt, running a finger over the wet spot on her underwear.
"Do you want me to take care of you, princess?" His fingers tossing the fabric to the side so he could touch her throbbing core. "Do you want me to show you how you're the only one for me?"
He reached for her hand placing it on top of his growing bulge, Danna groaned feeling how hard he was already. And just for her.
"Strip." George commanded.
Danna's hands traveled to her white top, taking it off slowly, his eyes focused on her chest, he bit his lip when her tits were full on display for him to see.
She got rid of her skirt and panties almost too desperately, taking a few more seconds because of George intense glare making it impossible for her to unzip the damn thing.
When she got down to take of ther heels that's when George first spoke after a while.
"Leave those on."
He gets up, grabbing her by the waist and switching places. Now she was sitting on the couch as George kneeled in front of her, placing his hands on her legs exposing her completely to him.
"I’ve been dreaming of this sweet pussy the entire day."
He waisted no time and swiped his tongue on her folds, making her moan out loud, her entrance quickly getting wetter.
George kissed her clit and drew circles on it with his tongue sucking it lightly, the whole thing driving Danna insane, the guttural sounds coming from George's throat were enouh to make her come undone.
"Oh fuck, George, don't stop!" She said grabbing the sides of the couch as her eyes roll back, the pleasure becoming too much.
“So fucking delicious.” He murmured against her core, slurping and pressing his lips against her swollen clit.
Danna's whole body trembled uncontrollably when he inserted a finger, thrusting it along with his tongue.
George lifted his head, looking at her directly into her eyes, the lower half of his face glistening, finger still pumping inside making her moan while they stared at each other's eyes.
"Cum." Was all he said before diving back down to suck harshly on her clit while adding another finger, scissoring his digits inside of her. Danna's whole body shaking as she came undone.
"G-George, FUCK." He smiled proudly as he watched her.
He stands up taking of his shirt as Danna looks up to him, feeling drained but still needing the feeling of him filling her completely. He takes off his hand along with his boxers, his cock hard with pre-cum on its tip, making Danna sat up immediately, wanting to taste it.
George places a hand on the back of her neck, grabbing a handful of her hair throwing her head back.
"You want this?" He asks her, his lips almost touching hers. She felt desperate wanting him to kiss her and George smiled cockily looking at her.
He pressed his lips to her harshly, Danna moaned against his lips, George tugged her hair as the kiss became more and more needy, tongues touching, lip biting, she felt so immersed in the kiss that when he let go of her, she huffed.
"Suck it."
George moaned deliciously when she reachs out to take him in her hand. Leaning in, Danna gave the head a lick, tasting the precum.
His hand gripped her hair tighter, letting out a loud groan as she wrapped her lips around the tip sucking harshly. George eyes rolled back at the feeling.
Danna gripped his hips as pushing and swallowing as much as she could, jerking off what she couldn't fit in her mouth. George looked down at her, their eyes connecting as she sucked harshly.
For her, it was the best feeling knowing she was able to put George in such a vulnerable state.
She groaned feeling him hit the back of her throat, the vibrations almost sending him over the edge.
"Oh fuck, Danna." George grabbed her hair harder guiding her movements, making her gag once or twice, her eyes starting to water.
"You loves this cock so much, don't you." He lets go of her, Danna's hands trying to reach him back not caring about how desperate she might be looking, George smile was wicked.
He led his cock back to her mouth, fucking it, enjoying the sensations everytime she moaned, "you really are a little slut for this cock, aren't you?" George said thrusting harder feeling his own realise approaching.
When he was almost there, he let go of her hair and hooked his arms under her knees, pulling her far enough that her legs were hanging down the couch.
"Wanna come inside you." His voice so deep and commanding, Danna wasn't sure if she would last long.
He put two fingers in front of her, Danna leaned in starting to suck them under George's intense stare.
"Good girl." He said stroking his cock and using those two fingers to spread her folds, "so pretty."
Danna was already on the edge when George got closer to her, sliding his tip up and down her throbbing pussy.
"Oh god! George!" Her eyes rolled back when he pushed in one slide, her body shaking with the sudden stretch and filling her up. He was so big.
"Oh fuck." He groaned as he started to move, his eyes fixated where their bodies connected, "your pussy taking my cock so well, fuck." He threw his head back, and Danna moaned at the sight: his biceps were in total display since he was grabbing her waist with such strength which she loved, his showing on his neck and his arms travelling down all the way his abs. He was indeed a God.
"H-harder, George, please!" She groaned feeling his cock twitch inside of her.
George eyes darkened as he placed a hand on top of the couch, both of their chest touching as he lowered and sucked on her tits then all the way up to her neck, picking up the pace sending both of them into a frenzy of hair pulling and back scratching.
"Oh, f-FUCK." She screamed feeling George's cock reach the right place inside of her.
"You're taking me so good, princess, oh God." George took her face and kissed her roughly, "will you let me to fill you up?"
Danna wanted so bad to speak but the words wouldn't come out as the known feeling was growing inside of her as she reached her peak, she started nodding desperately at him.
"Please, yes, yes, yes, I-I..., OH" she was cut off by George's hand rubbing her clit, "I want you to, oh my GOD, come i-inside my, George, PLEASE."
"I‘m gonna fill you up, baby. Gonna put it all in you.”
He buried his head on her shoulder and fucked her harshly.
“Oh god,” Danna cried when George lifts her leg by hooking his arm under and pulling it back to him so he’s in much deeper and hitting all the sweet spots.
George drove himself completely in her when he came, thick fluid gushing inside of her pulsating core, the thrusting not stopping until her insides were completely filled.
He’s pulled out gently, slow and careful so Danna could adjust. He pushed the strands of hair stuck on her face and kissed her forehead sweetly, the previous dominant George fading completly away as he takes care of her.
He got up, lifting her up bridal style and walking to their shared bedroom, George placed her carefully on the bed, Danna covered herself while he got in too.
"You ok?" He asked while Danna cuddled up on his chest, legs tangled.
"Yes...," she whispered. "I'm sorry I was so hard on you earlier. I trust you. I just can't help it."
George chuckled.
"It's fine, you were right though, she's been after me the whole time we shot this bloody movie." He looked down to her, smiling and she pecked him on the lips, "I belong to you, completely, body and soul, you don't have to worry about other people."
"I do too, George. I love you." She said hugging him tighter and he kissed the top of her head, smelling her floral perfume and feeling at home.
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Just Another Day at the Office - The Sexperiment
George MacKay x Reader Series
Part Five: Make It or Break It
Masterlist
Summary: Y/f/n Y/l/n is doing better than ever; she’s finally in a relationship with the man she’s been constantly thinking about, she has some great friends, and she’s thriving at her dream job. Except, there’s one problem: being in a relationship with one of your coworkers can get really steamy, and can cause a lot of sexual frustration. Her new pitch idea may solve exactly that problem, but will George be okay with it?
a/n: I have absolutely no personal experience in magazine/journalism career, so the information in this fic will be provided with the knowledge I have conducted from research. With that being said, please don’t be mad if this is not accurate!!! **“The Sexperiment” is inspired by an actual Cosmopolitan article (here’s the link!) IM SO SORRY FOR BEING GONE SO LONG I’m here to finish this shit once and for all... I know it’s been a while, but I hold this series so close to my heart and I still have the same love for it as I did when I wrote my last chapter (I know it’s only been a few months but STILL) if you’re reading this, I just want to thank you for sticking around, you’re the best <3
Warnings: This is a slow burn fic, their relationship won’t happen in one night, so if you’re not into that, check out some of the beautifully written imagines that you can most likely find under the george mackay x reader tag. I might eventually write some of my own too :P At least one person’s saying “fuck” and there’s NSFW content..aka smut. You have been warned. Also angst :/ srry this is kinda short
I was in the worst possible situation I could have ever imagined: I had to choose between my dream job and my dream man.
Bree arrived home about twenty minutes later by herself. My bedroom door creaked open, signaling her arrival. She frowned at my appearance, which seemed to be mascara smudged all over my eyes and cheeks and swollen, bloodshot eyes.
She sat down beside me, pulling me into her. “Y/n, I am so, so, sorry.”
I let out a croaked sigh, “I-it’s fine, he was going t-to find out eventually.”
“I’m sure he’ll come around,” she rubbed my back soothingly. “I think he’s in love with you.”
“It doesn't matter if he’s in love or not!” I exclaimed, pulling out of her embrace, my emotions arising again. “He’ll never forgive me for this.”
Hot tears began to stream down my face and I felt my bottom lip tremble. Bree took it as a cue to leave me be, so she quietly exited to her own bedroom.
What the fuck was I going to do?
This job was the job I’d been looking for my entire life; it was the job I’d dreamed about working at.
But, George...
George was everything. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that George would have ever fucked up the way I did. I wouldn’t ever have to question his loyalty, he’d proven to be trustworthy and honest. He treated me like a princess, a way I’d only ever been treated by my father. I wasn’t sure if I’d hurt more without him or without a job. He never failed to make me smile or laugh, and he’d ensure that I always felt safe. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever fall in love again, until I met him.
I could get a job anywhere, but there was only one George MacKay.
I had to delete the article.
I headed to the kitchen and made myself two cups of coffee before cracking my knuckles and getting to work.
Dean,
This is an emergency. If you don’t reply now or tomorrow, I’m going to be in deep, deep shit.
I didn't have time to wait for his response; I got right to work.
What are people into nowadays, I thought to myself. Sex.
Ping. I clicked on my email.
Y/n,
What?
Well, anything’s better than the fucking Sexperiment article.
Dean,
I have to write a new article. George found out. BAD. Can’t release it, I have to fix this.
Also, would you say your penis size relates to your shoe size at all? It’s for the article.
Promise!
Well, I thought, here goes nothing. My fingers began typing immediately. The caffeine made my fingers shake slightly, but I was determined to write anything. I wasn’t sure how I was going to get George back, but I knew I had to. This was a start, at least.
Ping.
Y/n,
Knew that was going to happen. I’ll help you out, but you owe me. Can we do this tomorrow though? It’s Friday night. Uhhh and to ur other question: I don’t think so. Not going to elaborate more than that. Hope that’s good enough.
I rolled my eyes.
Dean,
Fine. I’ll send you my drafts and you better respond as soon as you can.
I prayed to every possible higher power that this would work. I began conducting research, reading articles and articles about the relationship between the size of a man’s penis and the size of a man’s feet. I wrote down statistics, quotes, and scientific evidence–making sure to exclude any personal experience. I spent hours explaining the theory and science behind it and citing every single quote.
I wasn’t sure exactly what was going to happen, but I prayed that Connie wouldn’t be too pissed at me and George would hopefully see how genuinely sorry I was. I knew I’d fucked up, I got too caught up in trying to impress my boss that I practically sabotaged my own relationship in the process. I hadn’t received a single text message or call from him. I missed the way he smelt of sandalwood and vanilla, I missed entangling my fingers in his soft, sandy locks. I missed the way his skin felt against mine and his velvety voice when he called me “love”.
Tears ran down my cheeks once again as these memories lingered in my head. I stared at my computer screen, my eyelids drooping; I needed a break. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep, so I decided that I was going to be entirely committed on staying up all night. Making a sandwich for myself, I sat and watched television for a moment, attempting to distract me from my obvious thoughts. And once I felt slightly more energized, I resumed reading articles, highlighting quotes, and writing. I continued this until Bree woke up, yawning as she swung her bedroom door open.
“Jesus, Y/n,” she observed, my figure at the kitchen table still hunched over, staring at my screen. “Were you up all night?”
“Yeah,” my voice was raspy from exhaustion. “There’s a pot of coffee waiting for you.”
She smiled softly, walking behind me and wrapping her arms around me. “All couples fight, you know.”
I sighed, “I don’t want to talk about this anymore; I need to get this article done.”
She raised her eyebrows. “You’re writing a new article?”
“Of course I am,” I defended, my eyes not leaving my screen.
She poured herself a cup of the hot liquid.
“You love him.”
My eyes began to water and I fought to blink it away.
“Damn right I do,” I muttered to myself, though I was sure she heard me.
After finishing the draft of the article, I sent it over to Dean. Bree suggested that we go see our friends to distract me, but I wanted to stay home. I needed to write the final draft, and see George...both as soon as possible. Bree stayed around to make sure I’d be okay, watching television with me until Dean responded back with the edits. Once he finally did, I was rewriting the article and using his edits to perfect it. Once I’d finally finished it for Monday, I shut my laptop, grabbed my keys, and began driving to his house.
After parking, I climbed up the stairs until I reached his apartment door. I knocked a few times, nerves churning inside my stomach as I pondered all of the possible reactions he’d have. My biggest fear was that he’d never want to see me again. The door opened, revealing himself in a t-shirt and pajama pants, eyes puffy and bloodshot; I was sure my eyes looked the same.
“I-” I began, letting out a sigh. “I rewrote the article.”
He raised his eyebrows.
“It’s still sex-themed, but it doesn’t have any connection or correlation to you,” I explained, my voice beginning to croak. “I can email it to you, if you’d like. You can read it, see if it’s okay first.”
He shook his head silently. It was apparent that he didn’t know what to say either.
“I know I fucked up,” my voice broke and my bottom lip trembled. “I shouldn’t have come up with an article like that, it was so fucking awful of me to embarrass you in front of your coworkers.”
Tears began to run down my face and I couldn't help but hiccup.
“P-please, George,” I whimpered.
His eyes began to well with tears of his own, and he pulled me into his arms.
“I’m sorry for yelling at you outside of the restaurant,” he whispered, hugging me close to him.
“Oh, George,” I sobbed. “That was nothing; all you’ve done is treat me like gold, and I nearly exposed our fucking sex life to the world.”
He pulled away, cupping both of my cheeks with his palms, his blue orbs staring into mine, his eyelashes thick from wet tears and the whites of his eyes red.
“Please,” he begged, his voice cracking, “don’t lie, nor do something behind my back ever again.”
I pressed my hands against the backs of his, still holding my face in his palms.
“Never again,” I confirmed, throwing my arms around him to feel the warm embrace I thought I’d never feel again. I could inhale his scent, hear his heartbeat through his chest, stare into his ocean blue orbs, and feel the soft sandy curls on his head.
He read the article, and though it made him slightly uncomfortable that I was writing about penises, he designed simple art that would make the article pop in the magazine. Then, we laid in his bed for hours, listening to each others heartbeats, listening to our breathing rhythms, staring into each others eyes as if we were silently communicating to one another.
We decided to take a shower together, stripping each other of our clothes slowly and meaningfully. Once the hot water was running down our bare skin, we washed each other; shampooing each others hair slowly and washing our bodies tenderly, leaving kisses on wet shoulders and necks. Once we got out and dried off, we got back into his bed and maintained a spooning position, his bare torso against my bare back, as we dozed off to the warm, comforting feeling of our bare skin touching.
Monday morning, I sat down at my desk and sent the new article to Connie, anxiety making me bite my nails as I waited for a response back.
Ping.
Oh, no, I thought to myself.
Y/n,
Meet me in the conference room with Dean.
Connie
I sighed, exchanging looks with Dean–whom was reading the email over my shoulder–before we made our way to the conference room. She stood, her arms crossed, as we entered the room. I gulped, heart racing and sweat starting to form at my palms. The two of us sat ourselves, waiting for her to begin.
She joined us in a chair across from us, her elbows resting against the table.
“Well?” she began, her voice questioning. “What happened to the article?”
Dean looked at me, waiting for me to speak for myself. I braced myself before talking.
“The Sexperiment article wasn’t working for me, Connie,” I explained nervously, “I wasn’t having much luck writing it, and I wasn’t confident that it’d reach the magazine’s standards.”
I had to lie; I couldn’t tell her that the article nearly jeopardized my relationship. Dean sat next to me, silent.
She sighed, “I hope this one will reach the ‘magazine’s standards’, then,” she mimicked, before standing up and flattening her skirt. “I’ll publish the article, but this is a warning: do not change your article without contacting me first.”
And with that, we were dismissed, panic still swimming in our stomachs. Well, I thought, I chose George over my job; what else was I expecting?
#george mackay#george mackay x reader#George Mackay smut#1917#1917 schofield#1917 cast#dean charles chapman#x reader fic#x reader
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