#will schofield x reader
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early morning ~ will schofield;1917
word count: 2203
request?: yes!
@lilah1020: “Imagine Will schofield fluffy smut with wife reader”
description: on a rare occasion when they wake up before their children, they decide to take advantage of the time to be intimate
pairing: will shofield x female!reader
warnings: swearing, smut (oral - f receiving, unprotected p in v, praising, dirty talk)
masterlist (one, two, three)
Having two children - especially two young children at that - meant very little “alone time”. The girls were usually the first ones awake in the house, and thus would run into their parents’ room to wake them up. Between work, house chores, and looking after the kids, there wasn’t much time for Will and (Y/N) to be alone. And by the end of the night, when the kids were bathed and in bed, they were just too tired for any form of physical intimacy.
It was hard. Not that either of them thought they needed physical intimacy for their marriage to work. After their oldest daughter was born, they knew sex was going to be few and far between, and they definitely knew that’s how it would be after their second daughter was born. They were aware of it, and they were more than okay with that sacrifice at first. But the complete lack of sex had been hard for both of them.
It was a rare morning where (Y/N) wasn’t woken by a tiny body jumping on her. Her eyes slowly blinked until the sleep was completely out of them. The room was quiet. In fact, the whole house was quiet. No small voices yelling, no hushed voices beside her as Will tried to convince the girls to let their mother sleep. Nothing. Just silence.
(Y/N) rolled over to see Will sleeping peacefully beside her. She smiled as she looked at his handsome face. Every day she thought to herself about how lucky she was to have him; how lucky she was to have their little family.
As if sensing her eyes on him, Will slowly stirred. He opened one eye, then smiled as he closed it again. “Good morning, love.”
“Good morning,” she responded.
“Where are the girls?”
“Still asleep.”
Will had stretched his arms out, but paused after hearing her response. “Really?”
(Y/N) nodded. “Listen.”
They both paused, taking in the silence of the house. Will looked shocked at the revelation. “They’re asleep? They actually are not awake before us for once?”
(Y/N) giggled and nodded again. “I guess they were really tired after last night.”
The night before, the Schofields had been to a neighborhood celebration that included a barbecue and fireworks to end the night. Will and (Y/N) had let the girls stay up late so they could enjoy the festivities. By the time they got home, the adrenaline (and the sugar) from the night was finally wearing off and, within seconds, they were asleep.
Seemed it was enough to keep them asleep past their usual wake up time.
Will looked like he was still trying to understand the fact that his daughters were actually still asleep. (Y/N) was still pretty shocked herself. She was almost convinced that she was dreaming, and she would soon actually be woken up by her two energetic daughters.
“Love,” Will said.
“Yes, darling?” (Y/N) responded.
Will took her face in his hands and pulled her into a kiss. It was passionate and needy from the moment their lips met. (Y/N) took hold of Will’s shirt, clenching the material between her fists as she held him to her. One of his hands moved from her face to slip under the night shirt she was hearing. When his hand touched her bare skin, it ignited her. It left a fiery, tingling feeling in his wake. One that trailed down her body and between her legs. She was yearning for him. She needed him so desperately, just from kissing and a few gentle touches.
Will slowly laid (Y/N) on her back, his lips still attached to hers. When he pulled away, she tried to follow him. He chuckled and eased her back down on the bed. He moved to her neck, kissing the soft area all over until he found the spot that made her whimper. He kept his focus on that spot, sucking and biting until he was sure he had left marks. He pushed up her night gown to expose her breasts. She gasped as he put his mouth to one of them, circling her nipple with his tongue. His hand fondled her other breast, rolling the nipple until it was hard and pointed, then took that one in his mouth as well.
A moan slipped from her lips. She quickly covered her mouth as Will’s mouth let go of her breast to shush her.
“Sorry,” she said in a whisper. She put her hand back over her mouth as his kissing continued downwards.
He left wet, open mouth kisses over her stomach and down towards her mound. Her breath hitched and a muffled whimper came from around her hand at the feeling of his hot breath against her already dripping wet pussy. Desperation was rising within her. She was so close to begging for him to touch her, she didn’t even care how he’d do it. She just needed to feel him, to have him pull that release from her again like he always knew how to. But she didn’t have to beg, because he wasted no time in attaching his lips to her clit.
A gasp ripped from (Y/N)’s lips, her hand moving away from her mouth to grab hold of Will’s hair. She gently tugged it by accident, but it earned her a moan from him. The vibration from it sent shockwaves through her body. She bit down on her bottom lip to try and keep her moans quiet, but it felt almost impossible. She hadn’t felt this good in a long time, and it was hard to not let that out. His tongue against her felt heavenly as he licked long stripes from her pussy to the tip of her clit.
“F-Fuck,” (Y/N) whispered. “God, Will, that feels so fucking good.”
Will peered up at his beautiful wife, writhing in pleasure above him. Her eyes were shut and her head was thrown back, with one hand in his hair and the other gripping the sheets beneath her. She looked angelic, and her quiet noises of pleasure definitely sounded like they were coming straight from a heavenly angel. He wanted to be inside her desperately. He needed to feel her warm walls around his throbbing hard cock. But he wanted to make her feel good first, because he wasn’t sure how long he’d last once he was inside her.
“Are you close, love?” he asked her, continuing to stroke her clit with his thumb while his mouth was absent. She nodded, her eyes still tightly shut. “Look at me, my love.”
She managed to force her eyes open to look down at Will. He smiled at her face, already fucked out and he hadn’t even fucked her yet.
“Cum for me, my love,” he coaxed. “Cum for me and I’ll give you what you want.”
The minute his mouth pressed against her again, she did exactly as he requested. Her head fell back onto the pillow again, and she quickly clapped a hand over her mouth as the pleasure tore through her. Will lapped at her pussy, taking every last drop of her juices as if he needed it to survive. Her body trembled so violently that she wasn’t sure it would ever stop.
Her head was fuzzy, in a good way. She felt like she was on cloud nine as Will kissed up her body again. He placed a sweet yet passionate kiss against her lips. She could taste herself on his mouth, which just turned her on again.
Will stood from the bed just long enough to pull his boxers off and kick them to the side. (Y/N) all but yanked him back to the bed when his lower half was naked. His hard cock pressed against her thigh as his lips found hers again. Her hips bucked in an attempt to gain some friction between them.
Will chuckled. “Impatient thing, aren’t you?”
“We don’t have long,” she reminded him. “And you promised to give me what I wanted.”
“You’re right, I did promise that.” His tip nudged her entrance, earning him another gasp. “And I intend on keeping that promise.”
He pushed into her slowly, letting both of them feel every inch of his cock filling her up. He kissed her, letting his mouth swallow her moans. He lowered himself so he was pressing against her as much as he could without crushing her, resting his elbows on either side of her head.
“You feel so good,” he mumbled against her lips. “I almost forgot how good this pussy felt.”
“Please, Will,” she begged. “Make love to me.”
He kissed her. “You don’t have to beg, love. I’ll give you exactly what you want.”
When he slowly pulled his hips back and thrust them forward at the same pace, (Y/N) could’ve swore she saw stars. It was the simplest movement, but it brought so much pleasure that it made her head spin. She grabbed at his shoulders to try to ground herself.
“You’re so beautiful,” Will whispered as he continued his slow thrusts. “God, I’ve missed seeing you like this. You’re so gorgeous when you’re all wrapped around my cock like this.”
Her only response was another moan. Will decided not to quiet her this time. He missed hearing these sounds. He wished he could record them to have with him whenever he was away from her.
He kissed her, sweetly. As if he was giving her a good morning kiss and wasn’t buried deep inside of her.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you, too,” she responded. It was the only coherent thought in her head. “I love you so much. Fuck, Will.”
“Do you feel good, my love?” She nodded. “Do you think you could cum one more time for me? I promise I’ll fill you up after.”
She nodded again. Will reached between them and started rubbing circles against her clit as his thrusts started picking up. (Y/N) barley had time to register her orgasm before it was already upon her. Will pressed his lips roughly against hers to stop her loud cries of pleasure. Feeling her tightening around him made him cum shortly after she did, his thrusts stilling so he could fill her up like he promised.
They weren’t sure how long they were tangled together, coming down from their climaxes. All concepts of life outside of this moment was lost on them. They just knew the lightheaded feeling of post-orgasm bliss. Will was pressing kisses against (Y/N)’s neck and jaw. She sighed, content to stay this way as long as possible.
Which, unfortunately for them, did not last nearly long enough.
The creaking of a door alerted them first. Their daughters’ bedroom door had always made a noise when it opened. Will had been saying for as long as they could remember that he would fix the door, but had never gotten around to it. Now it seemed to be their saving grace, the only indication that they had mere seconds before two little girls ran into their room.
Will pulled out of (Y/N) and tumbled onto the floor. (Y/N) stifled her laugh at his pained expression as she fixed her night shirt, covering the sticky mess between her legs. Will frantically grabbed for his boxers and pulled them back on just as the two girls rounded the corner and into the room. Their youngest daughter immediately jumped into bed, while their oldest looked at their father in concern.
“Daddy, why are you on the floor?” she asked.
“I - uh - I fell out of bed,” Will responded. “Got all tangled in the sheets as I was trying to get up and fell right off.”
“Daddy is a little clumsy this morning,” (Y/N) added.
“Is it because you were up so late last night?” the youngest girl asked.
Will nodded. “Yes. Yes, it’s definitely because of last night.
Their oldest got onto the bed with (Y/N). (Y/N) put both arms around her girls and pulled them close to her, kissing them on top of their heads.
“You both slept in pretty late,” she said.
“Because we stayed up late,” the youngest said. “Like grown ups do.”
“Don’t get used to it,” (Y/N) said. “You’re not growing up any time soon. In fact, I’ve decided that you’ll both be my little girls forever.”
Both girls started to speak at the same time, protesting their mother’s decision. Will chuckled as he leaned across the bed to also kiss his daughters.
“What do you girls say we head downstairs and start making breakfast? Let mummy get herself cleaned up for the day.”
He shot her a look that made her face heat up. The girls agreed and bounded out the door again before Will could follow them. He and (Y/N) shared a look before chuckling. Will leaned in to kiss (Y/N) one more time before reluctantly tearing away from her and their bed.
“I’m keeping them up until midnight tonight,” he said as he started walking out the door. “Maybe then I’ll have you all to myself tomorrow morning.”
#will schofield#will schofield imagine#will schofield x reader#will schofield smut#george mackay#george mackay imagine#george mackay x reader#george mackay smut#1917#imagine#one shot#smut#request#fanfiction#fanfic#fandom
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A Promise | Part 2 - William Schofield
a/n: it has been a while!! i rewatched 1917 the other night and my love for the film and characters has been reignited, so i decided to finish this fic that i wrote almost three years ago! i am so happy that i was able to finish this and hope you enjoy <3
read part 1 here
WARNINGS: mentions of death
word count: 3,856
“I think I’m in love with you.”
Silence hangs in the air as Will stares at you in disbelief. He had no idea what to say or how to react to this sort of confession whatsoever.
“What?” He mutters out, eyes widening in fear, even backing up away from you a little bit.
Your chest felt so tight the longer the silence went on, like it was suffocating you and you couldn’t escape it. With some deep breaths, you calm your erratic breathing, but your hands were still shaking like a leaf in the wind.
“Ever since you started, um, coming around and visiting us…I’ve…I’ve really fallen for you, Will.” You have yet to meet his eyes, terrified of seeing his reaction through them. “And I didn’t know how to go about telling you because I’m so worried.”
Again, Will says nothing, and it was starting to get really discouraging. He truly had no idea what to say or what to feel. But deep down, he felt something. And that’s what scared him.
As he was going to finally speak, Percy’s cries erupt in the otherwise still household, and he shoots up, finding it a perfect excuse to get away from this conversation. The second he is out of the room, you burst into tears, covering your mouth to hush your own cries.
You take the chance to make an exit of your own, running right towards your bedroom and shutting the door just loud enough to let Will know that you were no longer on the couch waiting for him. Hearing this, he lets out a soft sigh, glad to know he can have the rest of the night to think over things and gather his thoughts.
Percy had thankfully quieted down as Will rocked him slowly in the rocking chair of the corner of his nursery. Looking down at the three month old baby in his arms, he shakes his head, seeing a striking image of his close friend who he misses so dearly.
When the baby was fast asleep, Will carefully puts him in his crib and walks out of the room, keeping the door cracked ever so slightly just in case he cries anymore. Looking down the hall, he sees your door completely shut. As much as he wants to walk right up to it and talk to you, he turns away and steps into his room, deciding to give you the space you need.
The days following your confession, you try your best to avoid Will at all costs. Unfortunately, since he is the father figure for your child, it was very difficult to do, but you managed to keep conversation and chatter to a minimum whenever you did.
Iris had even noticed the tension with the two of you, and pulled you aside one day when Will went into town for some groceries.
“(Y/N), honey, is everything alright between you and Will?” You two were baking some desserts for a few neighbors since the snow was finally starting to melt away from the winter storm a couple weeks ago and people were now able to get out and see others and deliver things.
Sighing, you set the whisk down in the bowl of batter you were mixing and look towards her. Thinking for a moment, knowing that you were going to spill all of the feelings you had inside, you go back to whisking the mixture for the moment.
“Let’s get this last batch into the oven and then I’ll explain.”
You knew you had to be quick with things, as Will could be home at any point of time, though he’s only been gone for less than an hour, trips to the local market took far longer than that usually.
Finally, you get the tins into the oven and set the timer when Iris bringing you to the living room and sits you down on the couch next to her. She waits for you to be the one to start the conversation, not wanting to push anything.
“Um, I’ve felt this way for a little while now, but I have really fallen in love with Will,” you tell her first and foremost. “And navigating these feelings has not been easy.”
“Darling, that’s beautiful. So why has everything felt so tense between you two then?”
With a pause, you fiddle with your fingers for a moment before you start tugging at a loose string on your dress.
“I told him and he didn’t react well. He said not one word about it, and then ran off when Percy started to cry. That was almost a week ago and we haven’t spoken much since. I don’t know what to do, Iris.”
“In terms of interpreting how he reacted or feeling this way?” You take another moment to think about her question.
“Both. I love him very much, I’m entirely sure of that, but…it feels wrong.” Getting this admission off your chest felt better than telling Will how you felt. This was the deep root of everything.
“Why?”
You take a moment to respond, feeling a little embarrassed and bad for feeling the way you do.
“It makes me feel guilty. Like I am giving up on Tom. I’m loving someone else when I promised him he’s the only one I’d ever love.” The tears brimming your eyes finally spill down your cheeks, and Iris is quick to hand you a handkerchief to wipe them away.
“Honey, I know it feels hard letting Tom go, but he wouldn’t want you to be miserable and attach to him when there’s someone else out there that makes you happy. And the fact that it’s Will, he would have been very elated, because he knows he can prodive you a wonderful life.” She pauses, listening to you sniffle and watches as you continue to wipe the non-stop tears away.
“I know he would want me to move on, but I hate that I have to,” you cry out, hiding your face in your hands as you sob loudly, everything hitting you once again. Iris gives you the time you need, gently rubbing your back as you let all of your emotions out.
“You shouldn’t have to, but you need to. I would hate to see you deprive yourself of something so wonderful, that you deserve, because you fear of forgetting Tom. I know you will never forget him. And loving Will doesn’t mean you never loved Tom or will stop loving him. I know my son meant the world to you, and nothing can replace the love you shared. But maybe this new chapter will do you some good, bring some light into your life.”
You think over her words and slowly nod, looking down at the sewn handkerchief she gave you, slightly damp from the tears you shed.
“Thank you, Iris,” you whisper, gazing up at her with a fond smile. She reaches over to squeeze your hand, her other hand raising up to your back once more.
“Of course, darling. I’m always going to be here for you in times like this.”
The two finish up baking for the day, preparing everything into an orgaized pile to distribute them tomorrow. Will, on the other hand, had quite an eventful morning before going to the market.
WILL’S POV:
Before I went to the market to stock up the house, I decided to take a little trip to see my mother and get her advice on this situation. I also planned on talking to Iris, but I needed my mother’s words first, she always knew the right thing to say.
“Hi, mum,” I greet her with a hug.
“Oh, it’s so nice to see you, my son. How is everything at the Blake household?” Gulping nervously, I take a seat on the armchair in the living room, as she takes a seat back on the couch, where she was currently knitting something.
“I actually wanted to talk to you about that.” I nervously wring my hands together and take a deep breath.
“What’s going on?”
“Well, you obviously know I’ve been helping the with Percy and everything else in general.”
“Yeah, and it’s going well, isn’t it?”
“Kind of,” I taper off. At this point, she sets her supplies down and focuses her full attention onto me. “(Y/N) told me she’s in love with me.”
She says nothing, her eyebrows furrowing a little bit in wonder.
“And…there’s a problem with that?” Her question throws me off a little. Was there a problem? Obviously there was, but why?
“I don’t know,” I mutter, shaking my head.
“Do you love her?” I’m stunned silent by her follow-up question, and suddenly, everything settles in. All the feelings I’ve been trying to push away the past few months, seeing how wonderful (Y/N) is and how beautiful of a person she has become, even in the face of tragedy of losing her lover and the father of her child.
“I think so,” I finally whisper after a few moments of thinking over things. “But I’m terrified, mum.”
She scoots closer, sitting on the end of the couch closest to me, and grabs my hands. My head raises to look at the serious expression on her face.
“There is nothing to be scared of, Will. If she loves you and you love her, there’s no hurt in seeing where things can go with each other. You’re already a father figure in that little boy’s life, it’s no surprise that you feel so strongly towards her.”
“What if I’m not enough?” My response leaves her speechless, she has no clue what to say. “What if I can’t give her what Tom gave her?”
“Listen to me, William. You cannot think that way. Tom may have been her love, but he’s no longer here. No two men will ever love the same woman the exact same way, things are bound to be different, but you won’t see that until you try. It could be so beautiful for the two of you, but if you’re held back by that fear, both of you are going to be miserable.”
Her words knock some sense into me and I sit there, nodding along to everything she says. Instantly, I feel a ton better about this situation, and have a small plan on how to fix thing when I get home, if (Y/N) is even up to hear me out.
“Thank you so much, mum,” I sigh softly, standing to give her a hug. She squeezes me tight, something she does when she knows I’ve got a lot on my mind and need love and support.
“I’m glad I could help. Now go talk to that wonderful girl and fix things!” I laugh a little and bid her goodbye, making my way into the town market to gather everything needed for the four of us back home on the Blake estate.
READER’S POV:
You were finishing up feeding Percy his afternoon bottle in his nursery when you hear the front door open and close, and Will’s voice greeting Iris, who sits on the couch reading a book.
She helps him bring all of the items from the market inside and the two of them take their time in putting everything away. You were still rocking Percy after burping him, but all you wanted to do was hide in your room to avoid Will as much as possible.
“Um, Iris, can I ask you something?” Will decides to ask her now, finding it perfect while they put things away and with you being absent for the time being.
“Of course, Will. You know you can talk to me about anything.” Will nods and takes a deep breath after placing a bag of veggies in the refridgerator.
“I don’t know if she’s mentioned it to you, but the other night, while you were away, (Y/N) admitted that she loves me. Well, she phrased it as in love, if there’s a difference.”
Iris chuckles softly and nods, grabbing cans of beans to put them in the cupboard.
“She did talk to me about it, earlier today. And she said that you didn’t react well.” Will nods in shame and sets down the cans he was holding, ready to put away.
“I went to my mum and asked for advice, because she always knows what to say. She…well, what she said and told me got me to think over things.”
“I can tell she really cares for you, Will. She may have loved Tom, but that doesn’t mean she can’t love you.”
“I fear that I won’t be able to love her as much as Tom did,” he admit to her. Iris sighs and walks over to stand next to the young man, resting her hand on his back as gently as ever. “Tom talked about her like she hung the moon and stars in the sky. I don’t know if I’ll be able to live up to the love he had for her.”
“You can’t simply live and think like that. I’ll tell you what I told her. Her loving you doesn’t diminish the fact that she loved Tom. While Tom did love her dearly, you can provide a different kind of love, and if she’s willing to move forward with that, I don’t see the problem.”
“My mum said the same thing,” he smiles a little, looking over at Iris. She offers him a small grin to him and drops her hand.
“Do you love her?” She asks after some time. The smile on Will’s face remains as he answers her differently than he answered his own mother.
“I do,” he says confidently.
“Then tell her. Because the both of you deserve to be happy, and I know Tom would want the two of you to be. It’s not that you or (Y/N) are going to forget him, but it’s healthy to move on, and I think you guys would be very lovely together.”
Will widely smiles at her words and finishes putting all of the groceries away.
“Go talk to her, last I remember she was putting Percy down for a nap.”
Will takes his chance to go find you, checking the nursery first. Upon quietly opening the door, he sees the light was off and Percy was in his crib, fast asleep. He backs out and leaves it cracked like he usually does before he steps a few ways down to your door.
It takes him a few seconds to gain the courage to knock on your door, and when he does, you don’t answer for a little bit. He thinks that you’re laying down for a nap as well, and as he goes to walk away, you slowly open the door and come face to face with him.
“Hi,” he whispers, gulping nervously. Gazing into his beautiful blue eyes for the first time in a week, your heart begins to race in your chest, all of your feeling still very clear for him. “Um, is this an okay time to talk?”
“Uh, yeah,” you mumble, stepping to the side to let him in. Shutting the door softly, you take a seat on your bed while he sits in the chair next to it, keeping his eyes on the ground.
“I’ve done a lot of thinking and talking to my mum and Iris, and I know you deserve answers as to…what happened last week.” You nod at him and wait for him to continue before you speak any. “I love you as well, (Y/N). I’ve had a lot of conflicting feelings and after speaking to them, things have become more clear and I’ve come to terms with how I feel.”
Will pauses to look up at you, his bright eyes shining with a few tears. His mouth opens and closes as he tries to find the right words to say.
“I have fallen for you. I pushed it away because I felt so much guilt and fear, I kept telling myself it was nothing, that what I was feeling was admiration for a friend. But I can’t keep pretending, you mean so much to me and I have fallen in love with you too. I was terrified of everything.”
“How do you think I felt, Will?” You finally manage to speak, your voice coming out rather choked and shaky. Tears were also threatening to spill over and Will stares at you in surprise. “I’ve had these feelings for a couple months, and so much guilt has surrounded me. Like I am a bad person for falling in love with someone that’s not Tom, the man I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with.”
“I’ve had the same feelings, sort of. I know I can’t love you the same way Tom did, and I know he holds a very special place in your heart. I am terrified of not loving you to that extent, to not be able to provide the love he gave you, that you deserve.”
“I know what I deserve. And you have given me something to live for after such tragedy. I never thought I could love someone the way I loved Tom, but falling for you has been so different, a good different. While I still love Tom and I always will, living in the past is not good. We have to move on and not get hung up on those that have passed. I will never forget the place he had in my life, but you…you have become such a special person to me, Will. And I can’t deny the feelings I have any longer.”
Will raises out of his seat to stand in front of you, grabbing your hands gently. Slowly, he kneels to the ground, and finally, the tears fall from your eyes, seeing the kind-hearted and soft look in his own.
“I promise you, from here on out, to give you a love that you deserve. I want the best for you and for Percy. I made a promise to Tom, and now I’m making a promise to you. To love you so deeply and to always be here for you, through everything. I know I won’t love you the way he did, but I will do my best, in my own way, to make sure you know you are loved and cared for, as well as Percy. You two are my life now, and I will do everything in my power to show you that.”
Without a response, you jump up and fall straight into his arms. But to make things more comfortable, Will stands up and grabs you, holding you tightly against his body, nuzzling his face into your shoulder. His large, muscular hands spread out across your back, and he never wants to let you go.
“I love you, (Y/N). I’ve truly fallen in love with you the same way you have with me.”
“I’m so thankful that Tom brought us together. I know neither of us want to get in the way of what he and I had together, but that doesn’t have to happen. We can love each other in our own way.”
Will pulls back to look at you and smiles so sweetly, a sight that you haven’t seen in a while. Your hand comes up to cradle his cheek and he leans into your touch.
“Have I told you that your smile is truly beautiful,” you whisper, your thumb softly stroking the apple of his cheek. He shakes his head in response and chuckles softly.
“You think so?” Going along with the silent answers, you nod your head before you lean forward and place the softest kiss on his cheek. A soft hum rumbles in his throat and he can’t help the way his heart beats like crazy in his chest. He’s never felt this way before, but everything was exciting him.
“Can I kiss you? Would that be okay?” Will asks quietly, not wanting to upset you or make you uncomfortable in any way.
“I’ve been wanting to since that night you got Percy to calm down,” you reply, referring to the night, about a month after Percy was born, when Will tried skin on skin with him and he instantly relaxed and stopped crying. He seems to know exactly what you mean, as it’s a memory he’s very clearly stored in his mind. But with your answer, his hand comes up to cup your face, his touch as tender and sweet as can be, and he slowly leans in.
In seconds, your lips press against his and it’s as beautiful as your first kiss with Tom. Though that thought is far in your mind, and all you can think of is Will. The scent of his cologne still lingering on his shirt, how soft his lips are and how you can taste the strawberry he stole while putting them away in the refrigerator. Your own hands trail up his chest and shoulders, resting on his neck.
Under your thumbs, you can feel his pulse racing, and you want to giggle so bad, but the feel of his lips pulls you back in and your mind is clouded with thoughts of him once more.
When the kiss ends, Will presses his forehead against yours, catching his breath. His eyes remain closed as he tries to calm his spiraling mind and breathing, a small chuckle escaping his lips.
“You’re so very special, my love,” he whispers, his breath hitting your lips. It sends a shiver up your spine and makes you want more of him. You barely even register the pet name, being so caught up with everything else.
“As are you, my hero.” He lets out another laugh and kisses you once more. The feeling makes your head spin and your knees weak, it’s a feeling you’ll never get over.
“Hm, beautiful girl. What do you say we spend the day next to the fireplace as I read to you?” He gently tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering on your face for a few seconds.
“I think that sounds wonderful. Iris is going into town soon to meet with her support group, so it’ll be the three of us for a few hours.” Will kisses your temple, continuing to rub your back comfortingly.
“I like the sound of that…the three of us,” he grins, looking down at you as your cheeks heat up, leading you to hide your face in his neck.
“It’s our little family.”
Your words seem to get to Will, and all of his emotions suddenly hit. But that fear isn’t as prominent as it was before, it’s a good feeling he gets when you say this. Hope fills him, and as much as it scares him, he welcomes it. Because even though things were going to be rocky in the beginning, he knew two things for sure.
His love for you was deep within him already, and he was more than ready to live his life with you fully by his side, as his lover.
—
tags from previous chapter: @thingsforimagination @fodenswhore
#william schofield#will schofield#george mackay#1917#william schofield imagines#william schofield x reader#will schofield imagines#will schofield x reader#imagines#fanfiction#fanfic
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☞𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐀𝐫𝐞
𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴; will schofield
𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨; angst, war trauma, ptsd, arguments, smut included
..••°°°°••..
“ˢᵒᵐᵉᵈᵃʸ ᵈᵃʳˡⁱⁿᵍ, ˢᵒᵐᵉʷʰᵉʳᵉ
ⁿᵉᵃʳᵉʳ ᵒʳ ᶠᵃʳ
ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ ʷⁱˡˡ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʳᵘᵉ ᵈᵉᵃʳ
ʷʰᵉʳᵉᵛᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ,”
The soft summer breeze sifted around your bare legs as you sat in your backyard. It was the beginning of April and you could already see the summer pink blossoms on the trees. Thus marking today the perfect day to have a barbecue. You & Will’s friends; Amy and Booker - whom he had met in the war - to spend the day with you.
“Oh, look at those clouds.” Booker exclaimed, hand equipped with a charred spatula flicking up towards those sky.
“Yes, they always look so beautiful this time of year.” Amy calmly noted as she sat in the lawn chair next to yours with a glass of lemonade in hand, handing you one as well.
“You tend to find yourself looking up a lot,” Booker murmured, eyes wandering a bit. A habit you often found your own William doing. A mindless habit, one you probably would never notice if you weren’t aware of what the two young men had been through. Booker never seemed to finish his sentence as Will walked out the house with a case of beers.
You stared at your fiancé’s back as he set the case on the table which also held various buns, condiments and drink for your little get together. It had been your idea at first, enlisting your neighbor and long time friend Amy who then convinced her husband for the barbecue. You had known Amy for years, originally growing up together then being there for each other as you both watched those you loved walk in to battle, some never returning.
But Will did, and you couldn’t wish for anything else. Every day spent waiting in the living room for that knock at the door, every night staying awake with the thought of his face - it eventually turning blurred and scarred behind your eyelids.
Yet even when he had came back, you felt some part you loved of him had been left and not to be returned. Forever lost on that battlefield with the remains of the war and other lost soldiers never to return to their families. And you hated to say it but you missed it. You missed when he would happily kiss your forehead, not grimace at the sight of your eye contact. You missed him yet there he stood.
Which is what he had done often since he had returned. He stood with a odd sense of uncertainty, that of a ex-soldier that was waiting to be ordered to return to the battlefield. His back - that he rarely let you caress anymore - seemed to shake with tension. You lowered your eyes as your heart ached, mind trailing back to the multiple arguments you both had had on the subject of his return. Where you would scream for him to just look at you again, with that look he once held of you. That look that held so much love and not sadness. Where he would just stare at you before leaving the house, not returning for hours. Your heart yearned for a man that had been lost amidst bullet showers and smoky fire.
As the soft jazz continued, suddenly Amy jumped up in excitement. The unexpected noise from the chair snapping shut undoubtedly causing the rigid tremor in Will’s throat. “Oh, I adore this song!” She sang, putting her finished cup on the side table.
“Yes, we know dear.”
“Mm, dance with me, Book.” She muttered as she kicked off her peach heels. You smiled at the image of your friends.
“Darling, I’ve gotta tend to the food.” He sang in the same tune. He seemed he didn’t mean his words though as Amy’s hand would later replace the spatula. They would enter a rehearsed routine to the jazz number. Their bodies seemed to melt into tune with each other as if they were made for one and other. You stood from the chair softly, smile still tight as you silently cheered on your friends.
In an effort to show your admiration to your fiancé, you turned to where he had just stood yet the yard was barren. This instantly took the smile from your face replacing it with worry. Had he gone again? Not to be seen for hours?
Leaving the jazz and laughter behind, you walked into the eerily silent house. It was empty save for your dog which you had gotten to keep you company all those years. You started with the entryway then the kitchen yet no sign of Will. Finally hearing a soft thump from the floor above you, you began your way upstairs to the bedroom where he awaited.
“William?” You whispered, slowly moving the door open with your fingers.
“Y-yes, I’m here.” He responded from within.
Your feet hesitantly trailed inside, eyes uncertain of what it may see. He sat with his back to you, crouched over attending to something on the floor.
“Are you oka-“
“I just needed a moment, is all.” He quickly shut you off.
Silence befell you both as the soft pangs from the vibrations of the music outside sounded throughout the room. Whenever he was like this you had zero idea how to comfort him. It was like he was a rose, beautiful but hurt to touch. Moments would pass before either of you would speak again.
You stood in place in front of the door as Will rose from the bed, car keys in hand. You starred at his clenched fist as he crossed the room to retrieve his jacket.
“Where are you going?” Seemingly not hearing your question, Will continued stopping in front of you, waiting for you to clear his path.
“Will,”
“I need to go.” He refused to make eye contact with you.
“William, please.”
“Move.” He muttered.
You didn’t speak. You had never seen him like this. His hands clenched tight, arms rigid and unmoving. It scared you for he was almost unrecognizable.
The next moments would go by in a flash. Will would slam the keys on the stand next to you, turning his back to you. You jumped backwards at the speed of his movements. His back seemed to rise and fall abnormally like he was out of breath. He moved across from you, resting his hands on the dresser that stood on the opposite wall.
Despite every bone in your body telling you to leave him, you stayed. You slowly began to move his timid breathing. You now stood behind him, hands hesitantly moving up his back but not touching it out of fear. “Will?” You murmured, finally trailing his muscles. “Baby?”
His back jumped at your touch before slowly relaxing. You felt it vibrate under your fingertips as he seemed to speak. “Hmm?”
It was then he would turn around, eyes slowly trailing up your form to meet with yours. They seemed to scream at you yet he stood perfectly still inches in front of you. Both your bodies pulled towards each other in a almost mindless motion.
Your hands carefully rose up to cup his face bringing towards yours. You both would envelope into a small kiss as if you both were slowly testing a invisible waters within each other. Slowly backing up towards the bed, you both helped the other undress.
Your fingers would make a symphony of his scars as you caressed his chest. He touched you as if you had blossomed into something new, marking words into your flesh to be revised later. You knew he’d come back yet he showed you he had never left. He showed you he had never truly left, that his touch had resided on you, his words traced your being.
He may have been through death itself yet you loved the man who walked out of it. And his touch assured you that you’d find him, wherever he was.
#sam mendes 1917#1917 schofield#1917 film#will schofield#x reader#smut#william schofield#tom blake#1917 (2019)#1917 fic#I totally didn’t rush the ending#mournfulgoobler🧅
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I’m Suft, I try my bet to be somewhat active on here but don’t expect anything great. This account is 13+ but I of course can’t tell you what to do. Most of my writing will be x fem!reader and I don’t plan on using given names unless it’s a continuous fic.
Who I plan on writing for
James Hetfield
Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley
John Price
Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish
Keegan Russ
Logan Walker
George MacKay/William Schofield
Requests are appreciated
#james hetfield#james hetfield smut#simon ghost riley#simon ghost x reader#john soap mactavish#john price#john price x reader#soap x reader#keegan russ#logan walker#logan walker x reader#suft’s thoughts#Spotify
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☔️
☔️: Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?
Okay so I have this idea for a fic that I don't know if I'll ever finish or post bc it's not x reader, basically it's Hilary feeling a type of way about being named captain when Kendall Coyne Schofield is out and she needs Coyne to like reassure her and make her see that she deserves to be captain and that she's not taking away from Coyne, idk if I'll ever finish it or post it but it's just an idea that I had in my brain that I couldn't get out and then kinda hyped up by Hilary playing bad and not seeming like herself and maybe feeling like she's undeserving of being captain idk if I'm making sense
Send me an emoji and I'll answer!
Prompts here
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Sunny days, Will Schofield
Word Count: 1.4k~
Mornings used to be dull and boring before Will got back from the war. Everyday felt the same; wake up, get ready, work, come home, eat dinner, and fall asleep. The only thing I looked forward to were the letters Will would send me from time to time, but unfortunately, there were points where I wouldn’t hear from him for weeks until dozens would show up one day. There was no fun, and there was nobody to have fun with. People came and went with every developing aspect of the war, and with the constant flux of officers stating another soldier’s passing, joy was hard to come across.
It was only when Will came home that I remembered what it was like to smile. I laughed for the first time in what felt like forever when he told me I had become even more beautiful than the day he left. I got to feel my heart beat as it synced with his once again. I cried like any other day before then as well. However, the reason for my crying that specific day was different. This time the tears were filled with happiness and relief rather than sadness and worry - two complete opposite feelings.
The first night spent together was something indescribable. There was so much to say, but as soon as Will started talking, he’d stop and sigh as if he was getting too ahead of himself. That was when I’d lean up toward him and kiss his cheek, assuring him it was okay. Thankfully, he’d continue on after that without many problems, but those came later unfortunately. I knew he changed during the war - that was obvious - and I knew he might have troubles sleeping at night.
It took nearly five months for Will to get a full nights sleep. The nightmares still came, but they were less severe, and when they did come, I always woke up to them. Will felt guilty for that, but I never got upset. I was glad to help him get over it, and during one particularly rough night, Will confessed to me that he believed his nightmares were going away because of me. At the time, I felt like I wasn’t doing enough for him, but in that moment, he said the exact words that I needed to hear.
Now, the mornings were something I had to get used to. However, it wasn’t a bad thing - in fact, I welcomed it. Instead of getting up and doing what I did every morning, I woke up to something different every day. Some mornings I would wake up to Will pressing kisses to my neck or cheeks, and some mornings I would wake up just to do the same with him. Any time this occurred, it always ended up in giggles as we were reminded of the simple fact that our silly teenage love never went away - even when we became adults and time separated us.
Today, this morning was different. Something woke me up, but I didn’t know what it was. My alarm clock hadn’t gone off, nor had the sun’s brightness affected me. The sun had barely risen, actually. I didn’t know what it was, and I couldn’t go back to sleep. Instead, I stayed up for a few minutes with my head resting on my hand and my eyes locked on Will’s sleeping figure. He looked so at peace when he was asleep; it was like nothing in the world could bother him.
It was in this moment I felt myself grow emotional with my thoughts. Tears graced my eyes while my throat seemed to shut in on itself. I wished Will could stay in his current state where he’s unbothered and calm. There were no thoughts of war or death clouding his mind. Just the small snores that left his lips while his eyes remained closed with exhaustion from the previous night.
It was only when I sat up a little in the bed that Will woke up. It was purely an accident that he woke up in the first place as I was trying to get up without disturbing him. Instead, I did the complete opposite
“What is it, baby?” He asked, voice deep with sleep as he turned to face me. His warm hand moved at the same time to gently run across my cheek, a small way for him to fully grasp that I was here with him.
Nuzzling into his touch, I settled into the bed deeper as I was before when I was asleep. Will stared at me as I did so, waiting for an answer as his eyes slowly opened. With every second, he was straying further and further from sleep, and ultimately, I felt bad. “Nothing, my love,” I assured him with a gentle smile. “It’s nothing at all.”
“It’s not even sunrise; what has you up so early?” He adds, his eyebrows furrowing as he pulls me closer to him by my waist. “Darling, you have to talk to me,” Will murmurs, his voice a bit sleepy, but still sincere.
After a few moments of trying not to cry directly in Will’s face, I bite my lip and shake my head. “I just... I can’t believe you’re here,” I confess, Will leaning forward to rest his forehead against mine. “I know it’s been several months since you got back, but for some reason, I woke up this morning and couldn’t help but feel... grateful,” I add, a few tears falling as I smile. “I have the love of my life back with me and nothing can top that.”
“Now you know how I feel,” Will murmurs, a smile of his own forming across his face. “Why do you think I stay with you in the kitchen when you’re cooking? Or even when you’re just cleaning or tidying up the house? I love to... watch you, as odd as it sounds,” his words cause me to giggle, his lips turning up more and he brushes my tears away. “Trust me, in some moments, it’s hard to face the fact that I’m actually home. Sometimes I find myself questioning why I got so lucky to come home to you, and then I find myself thanking the Heavens above for you entirely,” Will gives me a quick, but soft kiss. “You are my home.”
As soon as his words register, Will is having to brush away more tears as he tries to gently soothe my crying. “You’re my home too,” I whisper to him, my voice a bit hoarse. “For once, it feels like I’m at home now that you’re here,” I tell him, my eyes catching the tears now begin to grace his eyes. “I missed you a lot.”
“I missed you a lot too,” Will murmurs before leaning in close and pressing his lips to mine. He moves his hand that was resting against my waist up to my face once more, bringing our lips even closer. “I love you so much, baby,” He mutters, pulling away for a second before quickly moving back in to our kiss.
Now, we’ve made out and had plenty of fun since Will returned home, but no kiss or touch has been as powerful as this one. This is the kiss I have been waiting for, the “I need you so bad in this moment” kiss. His lips and hands may not be doing much, but the two combined makes my toes curl. “I love you too, baby,” I tell him, a moan almost escaping my mouth as his lips move down to my neck and throat. In an attempt to grab ahold of something, my fingers find their way to Will’s hair and embed themselves in his soft locks. As soon as I begin to do this, his soft, yet worn hands find their way to my hips and pull me on top of him with a gentle pull. Beneath me, Will smiles up at me as his eyes look over me.
“I’m all yours~”
#will schofield#Lance Corporal Schofield#will schofield x reader#1917#will schofield imagine#will schofield imagines
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the laptop stand / au!will scho
a/n: i'm back with something, hope you like it! this time it's au!will x reader, not tom. ps. i have NO clue if the term thesis is used in UK for bachelor's and master's degree or is it a dissertation?? Imma use thesis anyway because for me it's a more natural word choice
and i'm gonna apologize FOR ANY mistakes, it's late and i can't sleep so this is what i'm doing 🙃✌️
---
The exhaustion of the past week was clearly evident on the faces of the people studying in the university's library. The smell of fresh coffee someone just bought from the little cafe inside the library filled slowly but surely filled the air and woke her up from her daydream. She had been staring at this tall, handsome guy for at least 15 minutes. Not just because of his looks, but because he was using the book she needed the most for her thesis as a freaking laptop stand. She did not know how she could ask the guy to give her the book in the nicest and least intrusive way possible. She had asked the librarian if they had another copy, but the answer was no.
She slowly made her way towards him. The golden afternoon light hit his face from such an angle that made him look like a literal angel. His blue eyes seemed to shine like the clearest sea under the sunlight. Fuck. Her heart almost skipped a beat. His looks definitely worsened the situation a lot. He had airpods in his ears, so she also had to literally briefly touch him to get his attention. And so, she tapped his shoulder lightly. He took one of his airpods out of his ear and turned to look at her. She did not know, but the way the setting sun hit her face made his heart skip a beat too. The first thing that filled his mind was her beauty.
"I'm so sorry I had to disturb you, but are you using that book for something else too or is it just your laptop stand?" she managed to say under his wandering gaze. Reluctantly he shook his head.
"You can definitely have it, if you need it" he said and immidiately slipped the book from under the laptop and offered it to her.
"Thank you, you just saved my thesis", she sighed, relieved.
She thanked him once more and left him looking after her. Neither of them new, that this was not the last time they were going to meet.
Turned out, he was a regular at the library. She never used to study at the library before, but she realized that it was easier to work on some of the sources she used for her thesis there. Some of the books were for in-house borrowing only anyway. So, she saw him around a lot. And he saw her. She had occupied his mind since the first day, but he was unsure if it was ok for him to ask her out. He decided to take it slowly. Each time he saw her, he choce a seat nearer and nearer until he was sitting across the table. She smiled at him but quickly turned her face towards the pile of books she had spread around her laptop. She had thrown her hair in a messy bun, but she managed to look very good nevertheless. She looked stressed, no makeup covering up the darkened circles under her eyes. He opened his own laptop and felt kind of out of place, since he only needed his laptop and one simple book. If only he could help her. After an hour or so, he decided it was time to go get a coffee.
"I'm going to grab a coffee, is it too much if I ask you to keep an eye on my laptop? I'll grab you a coffee, too." he said to hear.
At first she wasn't sure if he talked to her, but after looking at him and seeing him smiling, she nodded.
"It's like you read my mind, I really need some caffeine" she laughed. When she finally got up to leave, she introduced herself and he introduced himself, too. William Schofield. The name sounded just as beautiful as he looked. They even exchanged numbers and from then on, they were inseparable.
After she finished her thesis, she did not need the library as much, but she still went there. Just because of Will. Couple of months had passed and she had developed a huge crush on the man. He studied both English literature and philosophy. He was extremely smart and made the butterflies in her stomach flap their wings wildly every time he opened his mouth to speak. He looked at her admiringly whenever she talked about her studies enthusiastically. Her love for her studies and career choice was contagious and motivated him in his studies even more. They completed each other without realizing it. Late nights studying at each other's homes became a thing, too. Sometimes they would take breaks and just talk about everything from literature to movies to their favorite flowers or even their childhoods. It was not too long before they started hanging out more and more and introduced each other to their other friends. Everyone could see that they were meant to be, but them.
One summer weekend, their separate friend groups merged together and rented a cabin somewhere near a lake. They enjoyed the warm summer sun and the cool water of the lake. She was sitting outside late in the evening, with a book in her hands. He watched her from the other side of the patio, smiling. His best friend, Tom, noticed this.
"You should ask her out", he told Will, "everyone else can see how much you both love each other but you." he continued. But Will was afraid of losing her. Having her in his life, even if she was just a friend, was all he wanted. She changed his life for the better, she made him feel good.
After everyone else went to sleep that night, he came out of the room he shared with Tom. He noticed a familiar silhouette on the sofa of the living room area, still reading. He chuckled, holding a book of his own in his hands.
"Can I join you?" he asked, while sitting down at the sofa. She just smiled at him and nodded. Somehow she managed to gather up some courage, and decided to lay down, laying her head on his lap. His hand that was not holding the book found their way to her hair and he let his fingers run through her hair, soothingly. And that is how they managed to express wordlessly their feelings towards each other. Early the next morning, sitting on the pier while the sunrise painted the sky with its colors, they shared their first kiss.
#1917#1917 movie#au!1917#creativepromptsforwriting#thanks creativepromptsforwriting for the inspiration!#will schofield#william schofield#will schofield x reader#george mackay#au!will schofield
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Thinking about Will Schofield.
#will schofield fanfic#william schofield x reader#will schofield x reader#will schofield#william schofield#1917#1917 fanfic#1917 headcanons#1917 imagine
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Your a-z s are so good!! Omg you’re so talented☺️ could you possibly do one for George? We would all love that💕
thank you anons for these requests. im quite busy atm so im sorry if other requests take a while and thank you for being patient with me.
a-z of dating george mackay
a - argue
neither you or george are shouters, instead you go very quiet when something goes wrong or upsets either one of you. george would huff and mumble, until one of you grew the balls to talk through the issue. you’d be sat on the sofa and he’d just come and sit facing you, taking your hands in his and press his lips to them softly. this was his way of saying he was ready to talk.
b - body (his favourite body part of yours)
george loves your lips and your cheeks. he loves watching you talk, how your mouth moves and he loves how effortlessly your voice tumbles out. he loves how your smile grows when you laugh, small dimples forming in your cheeks - it was enough to make him smile with you. he loves to kiss your lips and your cheeks. whether it was a quick peck here and there or when he’d push you up against a wall and kiss you till you couldn’t breathe. he loved to kiss your lips till they went redder and more plump.
c - care (caring for each other when you’re sick)
when george is ill, he pulls you back into bed anytime you get up, claiming he’s cold and needs your body warmth. whilst you’d comply, you also had stuff you needed to get on with. so you’d sit next to his sleeping figure, trying to quietly type on your laptop or write into your notebook. when you’re ill, george waits on you all day. he’d constantly ask if you needed a drink or food and if you’re being sick, he’ll follow you to the bathroom and hold your hair back. he’d gently rub small circles into your back and carry you back to your bed, when you were too weak to walk alone.
d - dates (what do you guys do?)
being an actor, george loves to take you to the cinema to watch new films that he’d seen about, or heard about at awards nights. sometimes, you’d go and see films that his friends or previous co-workers were in. you’d share popcorn and he’d let you rest your head on his shoulder whilst his arm was wrapped around your shoulders. afterwards, you’d maybe go out for dinner or to a coffee shop, and he’d love to have a discussion with you about the film, what you liked and didn’t, the directing, filming, acting. by the end of the evening, the entire film would’ve been deeply analysed by the two of you and you’d have it no other way.
e - engagements (how he proposed)
he’d take you out to dinner, to celebrate your birthday or anniversary, and after the meal, you’d take a walk back to your flat or the car. but, then he’d take a diversion and say he just wanted to show you something. next thing you know, you’re standing on the rooftop of the cafe you met, staring up at the stars. whilst you were looking away, he’d get down on his knee and then cough slightly to gain your attention. he had planned a small little speech, which went the window the moment you turned around. he tells you how much he loves you, what he loves about you, what he sees in the future for you two, and you can’t help but say yes.
f - friends and family (do they like you/him?)
george’s family were initially weary of your relationship. not because they didn’t like you, but because of how long george spent away from home working. they feared you would both end up ending it soon because you couldn’t cope. as soon as they met you, however, they saw how relaxed george was - different to his typically stressed exterior. when he was away, his mum invited you round for dinner, and his sister was similar in age, so you had a lot in common.
your family feared he would be a distraction from your studies, but once they saw your relationship thriving, they had no fears. your dad liked that he was politically aware and into football, whilst your mum liked the fact he was active in feminism (#pussypower)
g - gifts
when george went away for filming, he’d bring you home stuff. they could be really simple, such as local delicacies or fridge magnets. something simple, that was a small reminder of him every time you opened the fridge.
h - how you met
you met in a cafe. you were sat in the corner, typing away at a script you were working on, nothing official just something that kept you occupied. he happened to take the table next to you and notice you furiously typing away your ideas, jotting down notes in the book next to you. he stood up and walked over to you.
“um, hi. i’m george.”
“hi?”
he told you about him being an actor, asked what you were working on and then asked to read. he complimented your work, and you gave him your number to “keep him updated and ask for advice”. he made a habit of going back to the cafe every day that he could, just to see you. he’d take a seat opposite you and didn’t mind when the two of you sat in silence.
i - intimacy (how often are yall getting down)
oh that man may seem innocent, but he will take you any time, any where. when he came home, the first thing he’d do is take you to your bedroom. he’d go slow savouring the moment - similar to how he would be the night before he had to leave. and the morning. and maybe before he got in the taxi. and then maybe he’d send you some suggestive texts. he lead you to toilets at awards shows for a quickie, or just lay you down on the sofa and go to town.
j - jealousy
when you come to set, some of his male co workers got a little bit close. when you were gone, they’d make jokes to george - he laugh outwardly but inside he was seething. it was easy to feel jealous of people you interacted with when he was away, much as it was for you to be of him working with loads of people, that his character was physically intimate with. however, it didn’t take much for either of you to remind the other of your love ;)
k - kinks
idk if this is a kink but hickies. george loves to litter your neck, chest, stomach and inner thighs with small bruises. he loves seeing a quick flash of the marks whenever your shirt rides up, or your towel exposes a few. he very much loves to mark his territory, as much as likes to see marks you’ve left on him.
l - long distance
a lot of your relationship had been spent long distance, with him working away for 1917 and then the history of the ned kelly gang. every night, you facetimed, till one of you fell asleep, but you’d mostly just do your usual evening routine, just hundreds of miles apart. you’d cook your dinner at the same time, shower, and then sleep. it felt as if you were together, just through a screen. you were obviously limited to what you could do but there was many things you could do to replace what was physically missing. it didn’t take a massive toll on your relationship, but george found it really hard to see you struggling and knowing he couldn’t be there to help - and vice versa.
m - moving in
george asked you to move in, over facetime, whilst he was away filming 1917. he said he wanted to come home to your face every evening, and his flat wouldn’t feel like home without you there. his flat was closer to your uni/work place as it was, so even though you were quite early on into your relationship, it was ideal. whilst he was away, you kept the flat in order every time george came home, he damn near welled up at the thought of you being there waiting for him, in difference to the usual cold, empty flat.
n - nights out
being a student, you went out a lot with your friends. often when george was away, so he’d be delighted to wake up to barely legible texts from you. when he was home, however, the two of you found yourself going to a local pub with dean and some of your other friends and taking part in the pub quiz or darts. sometimes you’d just watch the game that was on.
o - open with each other
initially, you both found it hard to talk to each other, but as all good people do, he had a catharsis. he broke down, relaying all his stresses onto you, to which you comforted him and talked him through it. he can sense when your bottling it up, and even though you’re not massively open with him naturally, he knows when to ask you to talk, and you do, knowing he will be there to support you.
p - pda
george isn’t a massive fan of pda, but he would hold your hand when you walk through town, and when you accompanied him to award shows, his hand would be firmly stationed on your lower back, his fingers rubbing small circles. he’d press soft, small pecks onto your cheek, or your forehead or sometimes, just the simplest act of raising your hand and kissing your knuckles softly would be enough to comfort you.
q - questions (what you talk about late at night?)
you talk about your day usually. it’ll start of as being, “i cant sleep” which will then turn into either one of you starting to talk about something funny that happened or just an overview of how your day went. this would go on until you managed to fall asleep, you soft breathing lulling george into his own sleep.
r - reproduction (do you want kids?)
george wants kids, in fact he definitely has notes on his phone of baby names that he wants to bring up with you. however, he respects your decisions and only wants what you want. he lives by “her body, her decision” but it is something he will ask you one night, casually. to which you respond however you feel.
s - surprising (what surprised you about him)
he loves to dance. if a song is playing in the background or on the radio, he’ll stand up and dance. in the kitchen, he’ll take a wooden spoon and sing into it. then take your hand and twirl you around. he loves to slow dance with you under the stars and he loves to rock out with you, with air guitars and all.
t - together (what you do together)
as said before, you watch a lot of films and programmes together. you also write a lot together, carpooling ideas into scripts or stories. his imagination is phenomenal. sometimes, you’d go on road trips, and he’d have control of the aux. he’d play songs to you, to see if you knew them, and he’d serenade you with ABBA non stop. anything you did was made 10x better when you did it together.
u - under the influence (drunk vibes)
drunk george is the softest man alive. he just wants to cuddle and tell you how madly in love he is with you. he’d press kisses all over your face and then pull you in close, to squeeze you tightly. when you’re drunk he loves to watch you get up to your antics, only intervening when it got dangerous or illegal. drunk together was a whole other force to be reckoned with. you’d both be doing stupid stuff until someone else had to step in. drunk you and sober you were both madly in love with george, just sober you was more willing to show absolutely everyone.
v - vacations
george definitely takes you to an island somewhere, like malta. or maybe he’d take you to a greek island. you’d spend the entire time exploring the city or the local markets, soaking up the local atmosphere and the sun. he’d defo get all artsy, taking photos of you from behind as you walked, the sun shining down on you angelically.
w - wedding
the cutest wedding ever. no cap. outside, in summer. you’d chosen a outside area, like a greenhouse kinda room, surrounded by the most beautiful flowers. the reception was afternoon tea in a little marquee. the next day, you had a family meal, where your two families came together to celebrate the two of you.
x - xray (when he’s hurt)
let’s say he injured himself on the set of 1917. a piece of rubble in the bunker scene fell and trapped on his arm, cutting it wide open. whilst it didn’t put him completely out of working, it did require him to go to hospital for stitches. it happened that you were on set on these days so accompanied the whole way. you held his hand as the nurse gave him stitches, and though he didn’t look scared of the needle, you could tell he was slightly panicking at the size. you walked with him back to the trailer where dean sat waiting, laughing slightly has a pale george sauntered up to him, you pulled into his side.
y - you (a random headcanon)
imagine that you both innocently take a shower together. “saving water” or something like that. george would spend his time massaging shampoo in your scalp and then brushing his fingers through it as the water washed it out. he’d turn around and you lather him in soap, your hands rubbing his shoulders, tense from a week of working. it wasn’t much but it was the little things that allowed the two of you to wind down at the end of a busy week.
z - zzzzzzzzzzzz’s (sleeping routine)
whilst you wouldn’t admit to being tired, george would watch you as you sat next to him, your eyelids falling heavy and your blinks getting longer and longer. he’d stand up himself, then hold out his hand for you to take. you’d follow him up the stairs and whilst he was brushing his teeth, you’d change into your pyjamas and then you’d swap. as you wander back into the room, george would hold out his arms for you to climb into, your head burying into the crook of his neck. nights like this, it was easier to fall asleep quickly.
#1917#george mackay#george mackay imagine#george mackay x reader#will schofield#will schofield x reader#will schofield imagine#dean charles chapman#dean charles chapman smut#dean charles chapman imagine#dean charles chapman x reader#tom blake#tom blake x reader#tom blake imagine#Sam Mendes#the history of the ned kelly gang
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not the same ~ will schofield;1917
word count: 1314
request?: no
description: upon returning from the war, will is not the same as he once was, and he worries how he’s feeling will affect his relationship with his wife
pairing: will schofield x female!reader
warnings: swearing, PTSD
masterlist
The girls were playing in the yard. She was washing the dishes and watching her daughters with a smile. Things had been hard since Will had left last. He promised he’d be home soon, but that was over a year ago. His letters had been few and far between as of late, and she was worried the next letter she would receive wouldn’t be from him.
As she finished the last of the dishes, there was a knock at the door. She dried her hands and went to answer. She gasped and covered her mouth in shock when she saw who was there.
“Hello love,” Will said, a small smile on his face. He was still wearing his military gear, and looked as though he had aged a decade since she had seen him last.
She didn’t know what to do. She was so happy she could barley fathom that he was actually stood there in front of her. Finally, she snapped t of her shock and jumped into Will’s arms. He chuckled and held her tightly.
“I’ve missed you, too, love,” he said. “Where are the girls?”
“They’re in the back,” (Y/N) responded, forcing herself to pull away from him. He followed her to the backyard, where his beautiful daughters were happily playing. “Lucy, Martha, look who’s here!”
The two girls turned and their faces lit up as they exclaimed, “Daddy!”
Will scooped the girls up in his arms and held them for him for a long time. He felt tears welling up in his eyes, and a feeling of joy and relief washed over him. He never thought he’d see his girls ever again, and he couldn’t be happier to finally be home.
~~~~~~
After his first real meal in years and a dearly needed shower, Will entered the bedroom in just a towel, his battle scars in full view. (Y/N) was already in bed, reading a book when he walked in. Her eyes widened as she looked him over. “Oh, honey.”
“Comes with the job,” Will responded with a shrug. “They healed long ago, I’m no longer in pain, love.”
(Y/N) out her book aside and knelt up on the edge of the bed. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him towards her. “As long as you’re no longer in pain, and you’re home with me. I’m never letting you go again.”
Will smiled and kissed her on the lips, savouring the feeling he had been dying to return to. He dropped his towel and (Y/N) giggled as he pushed her back onto the bed, climbing on top of her without breaking their kiss.
Some hours later, (Y/N) was sleeping peacefully next to her husband, however Will was having trouble with his sleep. He was stuck in an endless loop of the horrors he faced during the war: the people he killed, the men he lost, the numbers of times he almost lost his own life.
He was twitching and jerking in his sleep, so much so that he accidentally woke (Y/N). She stirred slowly and when she finally came to she noticed Will’s sleeping troubles.
“Will,” she said softly. “Love, wake up. Will, honey, you’re having a nightmare, wake up.”
His eyes opened and he shot up suddenly. He looked around the room frantically, as if he didn’t recognize where he was. There was a wild look in his eyes, one that almost scared (Y/N).
“Will?” she asked, her voice soft.
He looked at her. At first it was like his mind didn’t register who she was. His face was still twisted in fear, before it finally relaxed.
“(Y/N), did I wake you baby? I’m so sorry,” he sighed.
“It’s okay, love,” (Y/N) assured him. “Was it a nightmare?”
Will looked down at his hands, unable to meet her gaze. “Yeah...yeah nightmares. I’ll be alright.”
She looked at him, concerned, but chose to believe him. The two of them laid back in bed together. Will took (Y/N) into his arms, holding her close to him. Within seconds, she had drifted back off to sleep. Will, however, was struggling to sleep again. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the horrors he faced yet again. Even laying in the dark, fully awake, the images from the war played so vividly in his mind he swore he could see them as if he were there again.
He laid awake for hours, just staring at the ceiling and listening to his wife’s heavy breathing.
~~~~~~
He swore it was a temporary thing, that the only reason he was having the nightmares was because he was just home and everything had only happened a short time ago. He started sleeping on the couch so he wouldn’t wake (Y/N), until she insisted he came back to bed with her.
(Y/N) noticed that the nightmares weren’t the only thing different about Will. He seemed distant. He would spend most of his days sitting, staring off into the distance. He was never present when (Y/N) spoke to him, and he was becoming especially emotional when it came to the girls. He would just watch them, tears forming in his eyes, as if just the sight of his daughters was bringing some sort of painful memory back.
One night, nearly a month after his return, Will woke with a start, letting out a scream as he did so. (Y/N) woke as well, sitting up and wrapping Will in her arms automatically. She couldn’t see him in the dark, but she could feel the dampness of his face, signifying that he was crying.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice muffled by her neck.
“It’s okay, love,” she assured him. “Is it the nightmares again?”
“It’s not just about the nightmares,” Will sighed, pulling away to look at her. “I know I haven’t been the same since I’ve gotten home. I knew before I even came home that I wasn’t going to be the same. It just...it’s got me all fucked up. Everything that happened over there...it was a nightmare, all of it. A living fucking nightmare.”
(Y/N) took Will in her arms again, allowing him to cry on her shoulder. She held him tightly, soothingly rubbing his back and gently shushing him, the way she did when one of the girls hurt themselves.
Although she was trying her best to remain calm, it was hard to do so when the love of her life was suffering so. She wished she knew how to help him, how to make the awful memories go away. But all she could possibly do was sit there with him, to allow him to let the emotions out.
“This isn’t fair,” Will said suddenly through tears. “Not to you and not to the girls. The fact that you three have to see me like this, that you have to deal with it. It’s honestly not fair to you.”
“Listen to me, honey,” (Y/N) told him, pulling away and cupping his face in her hands. “I don’t care about having to help you through this, I really don’t. When we got married we said through sickness and in health, till death do us part. Last time I checked, neither one of us are dead, which means through sickness and in health still stands.”
A small smile made it’s way onto Will’s face. He rested his head against hers and she placed a gentle kiss on his nose.
“I’m here for you, no matter what love,” she told him. “Whatever it takes, I’ll be here.”
Will pressed his lips against hers, kissing him sweetly. “I’m so lucky to have an amazing woman like you as my wife.”
“You really are,” (Y/N) teased. “And I’m lucky to have an amazing man as my husband.”
#will schofield#will schofield imagine#will schofield x reader#george mackay#George mackay imagine#George mackay x reader#1917#1917 imagine#one shot#imagine
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Hope is a Dangerous Thing - Will Schofield
July 23, 1917
Dear my love,
I am writing to tell you that I am okay. I have not been able to write much after some recent events that happened. I was in the hospital for a short while, but I am now back to the field. I wanted to come home, but my injuries weren’t severe enough for that. I miss you terribly and all I want is to see you again.
Love,
William Schofield.
That was the most recent letter you got from your fiance, Will. He’s been gone for three years already, and there wasn’t an end in sight anytime soon. You missed him so much, and every day, you were terrified of the worst case scenario.
Hearing from him gave you some hope that he would return safe, or at least return. From friends and people around town, soldiers returning from war weren’t exactly the same. So, a year later, when you finally got word that he would be returning, you prepared yourself.
Jumping in his arms after four long years was an indescribable feeling. You met up at the train station, which he had just gotten out of, and as soon as you saw him, you sprinted.
He didn’t say much, you were the one whispering how much you missed this and how much you love him. He just held you close, as tightly as he could, breathing your smell in, relishing in your touch.
You planned on staying with him and his family for a while, after his mother invited you to. She knew how much you missed him, just as much as they did, so she was more than happy to invite you in.
The first dinner with him back was quiet. You, his mother, and his sisters tried starting conversations with him, but he was short with answers. You could tell his sisters were confused and upset that their big brother was distant.
When Will finished, he stood and announced he was taking a walk before taking a shower when he got back. You help his mother with the dishes while his sisters went outside to play before bedtime.
As the weeks pass, Will hasn’t opened up much, still. You tried your best to help him through everything, like nightmares, PTSD episodes, things like that, but he’s still very reserved and to himself. At one point, you tried asking him about his time in the past four years, but he brushes the topic away as soon as he can.
One particular night, it was starting to affect you as well. You were losing hope.
“Hi darling,” Lorraine, Will’s mother, takes a seat next to you on the couch. She rubs your shoulder and you try to keep your tears at bay. “How are you holding up?”
“I hate not being able to help him. He always thanks me after he calms down, but I don’t feel helpful. I’m not sure what to do when he’s yelling and screaming and I can’t get him to wake up from the nightmare. I don’t know how to tell him it’s going to be okay when he’s having a panic attack, when I don’t know if he’s truly okay. I feel so helpless and I feel awful.” Your voice wavers with tears, and after a few seconds, you burst into tears.
What you didn’t know was that Will had come out of his room, to refill the water pitcher in his room, but he stopped when he heard your heartbroken tone.
“He’ll come around, love. I know he will. Iris mentioned it’s normal for them to not talk much about their experience. Tom was the same way with her. He didn’t open up about what he went through until months after he was home.”
“I don’t know what to do. I mean, do I continue to help him? Do I ask what I can do to help him more? I want to be a good fiance and I want to be there for him, but I’m not sure if I can be strong enough to do so.”
“You don’t have to stay strong for him. He knows you’re struggling just as much as he is. You’re allowed to hurt and you’re allowed to let your emotions out.”
“I just don’t want to put that burden of him comforting me because I can’t comfort him, and make it seem like I’m trying to guilt him.” Lorraine chuckles softly and hands you a handkerchief to wipe your tears.
“I’m sure he won’t think that. He loves you so much, and I think he would hate to think that you’re hurting just as much as he is.”
Will walks back to his room before either of you see him. He wanted to confess something to you.
Later that night, while you’re getting ready for bed at the mirror in Will’s room. He comes up behind the ottoman you were sitting on and wraps his arms around your shoulders.
“You coming to bed soon?” He wonders, pressing a kiss to your temple. You were a bit shocked. Along with not being super open, he hasn’t been very romantic and touchy with you. He went through a phase for a few days or so where he didn’t want to be touched at all, not even you playing with his hair or even holding his hand. You ended up sleeping in the guest room those nights because it was too hard to sleep next to him and not touch him.
“Yeah. I’m almost done.” He nods and walks over to the bed, crawling under the covers, watching you from his spot. When you finish, you hop into bed with him, keeping your space. But, again, he shocks you by sliding his arms under your body and pulling you a little closer.
“Are you feeling better?” You wonder, stroking his cheek as soft as ever. He leans into your hand, making a smile appear on your lips.
“I am. Thanks to you.” Your smile falters immediately at his words, your talk with Lorraine.
“I feel like I’m not doing a good job, though. I-”
“I overheard your conversation with my mum, love,” he cuts you off. “I know you’re trying your hardest, I just, I don’t know if I’m ready to relive all of what I went through.”
“And that’s okay. I don’t want to force you into talking about it if you don’t want to.” He quietly thanks you and reaches up to stroke your cheek as well.
“There is one thing.”
“What’s that?”
“While I was on a mission to deliver a message, I met this woman hiding underground in a town. I was running away from a German soldier and slipped under into her space.”
“Was she German?”
“No, French. She didn’t speak much English, and I’m glad I was able to communicate. She had a baby.” Your eyebrows raise in question.
“How old?” Will smiles and grabs your hand.
“Not even a year old. Probably six months. I gave her the food I had from the General, and I thankfully had milk for the baby, which I’m so glad I bottled up when I found it.”
“Was she alone? I couldn’t imagine being left alone with my baby in the middle of a warzone.”
“She was alone, but it wasn’t her baby. She found it then went into hiding. It was quite sad when she told me. I really want to know if she made it out safely.”
“Let’s hope for the best.” His expression drops for a moment.
“Hope is a dangerous thing,” he whispers, keeping his eyes on you. You could tell he was having a flashback, so you break the conversation.
“What did you and the woman talk about? How long did you stay with them?” The same expression reappears as he remembers the reason he was telling the story.
“Only for a short time. She attended to the wound on the back of my head for a moment, and that’s when I noticed the baby. She took a liking to me when I talked to her.” He smiles fondly, staring into your eyes the whole time.
“She asked if I had any children of my own. It got me thinking,” he begins.
“Thinking about what?” You continue.
“Starting a family.” Your eyes widen a bit as he waits for your response.
“You-you want to start a family with me?”
“I mean, yeah. We are getting married, which I hope will happen soon, once I’m a little bit more back to myself. But you’re the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with, so why wouldn’t I want to start a family?” You shrug and sit up, nerves suddenly hitting you.
Of course you wanted a family with him; but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon. This was also the first time he’s brought up having kids.
“I’d love to see you with a baby bump, feeling them kick my hands, talking to them every night. And when they get here, seeing you hold a baby we made together, out of love.”
“Would your mum be upset if we get pregnant out of wedlock?”
“We’re getting married, though. And accidents happen. We don’t have to mention that we wanted this earlier before we get married.”
Will sits up with you and brushes some hair behind your ear.
“You want to do this? Because I don’t want to rush you.”
“No, I do. I want to start a family with you.” He slowly moves to lay you back down and crawl on top of you.
“Want to start right now?” He whispers in your ear, placing soft kisses from your cartilage to your neck.
“I wouldn’t mind,” you smirk, reaching up to tug his hair gently.
“Gonna show you how much I love and appreciate you, beautiful.”
#will schofield#william schofield#will schofield imagines#will schofield x reader#george mackay#1917#william schofield imagine#william schofield x reader#imagines#fanfiction#fanfic
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Awards Night (George MacKay smut)
requested: yes/no (send us some requests!)
pairing: George MacKay x reader
warnings: smut,,, i mean,,, yeah,,,
word count: 1,565
a/n: So we wrote this in our campus art museum. That's all. That's the note.
Your heart hammered in your chest as you spun once more in the mirror, attempting to find something wrong with your long, flowing dress. Most nights like this made reality too close to home as you worried about being good enough to be on George's arm at an event so important to him, where the image was such a big deal. You shook your head to clear the thoughts from your mind, holding your chin up in the process. Of course you were good enough. Hell, it had only been a few months and the man was already head over heels.
You pushed a bobby pin back into place and moved across the room, taking a deep breath before throwing the door open and coming into view of George tugging at one of his cufflinks and straightening his tie. He turned to look up at you momentarily before pausing and standing up straighter. His eyes sparkled. "It's going to be difficult leaving you alone tonight." His smirk sent goosebumps down your back and a blush to your cheeks.
"You're one to talk," you jeered back at him, causing him to chuckle lowly.
He stepped closer to you, resting his hands on your neck. "We could stay in, you know?" He kissed you lightly, cautious of your lipstick, before pressing his lips to your jaw and hovering near your ear. "You could make a man out of me?" You laughed at his statement and shoved him away from you, despite the rather serious tone of his voice. You could tell by the husk in his accent that it was going to be a long night.
The limo was rather over the top, in your opinion, but it was out of your control anyway. George took his time to sit as close to you as he could manage, his hand resting on your knee and moving to dip to your upper inner thigh. “Would you contain yourself?” You whispered sardonically, as you covered his hand with your own. He tilted his head towards you with an eyebrow raised before capturing your lips with his. Your fist tightened around the lapel of his jacket, bringing him closer to you. His teeth grazed your bottom lip hungrily. He leaned away from you momentarily. You could see in his eyes this was not all he wanted. You undid his suit jacket button as he dipped lower to slip his hand beneath the bottom of your dress. You shivered with anticipation as his fingers grazed up your legs. He found your lips again, kissing you with more force as you guided his hand to where you needed his touch.
His fingertips danced along the hem of your underpants, lightly brushing over your sensitive core. You moaned at the feeling, urging him to pleasure you. It must have been the new tux and the confidence that came with it, but he was utterly irresistible to you. He chuckled lightly against your lips before breaking your kiss and burying his face in your hair. "I need to contain myself?" He mocked, pushing aside your underwear and beginning to rub circles against your clit.
You grasped onto his wrist and his eyes returned to yours with a devious expression. "Don't start anything you can't finish," you had barely managed to whimper before he slipped a finger into you, eliciting a small moan to pass your lips.
"Love, you're already so wet." You fought not to roll your eyes as he began to pump his finger in and out of you before adding another. You bit your lip and he smirked at you, a look that made you tongue-tied when combined with his actions. His fingers curled slightly, building the tension in your gut. "Say my name," he taunted.
He abruptly stopped his actions as the limo came to a halt. You barely had time to catch your breath as George slipped his fingers into his mouth and narrowed his eyes at you. You were left speechless as he climbed from the car like nothing besides light conversation had just ensued in the backseat. He helped you from the limo and smiled at the cameras, oozing with charm. There was no doubt a slight blush painting your cheeks as you tried not to think about the lust blown look in George's eyes as he licked your cum from his fingers. You were dissatisfied and close enough to the edge to be almost uncomfortable with George not being able to touch you.
Sam Mendes greeted the two of you once you entered the banquet hall. Everyone was buzzing with excitement and nervous jitters. George greeted his friends like he hadn't seen them in years, which was heartwarming, to say the least. After the two of you had made your rounds, George led you away from the crowd and down one of the hallways. "Where are we going?" You asked as you took note of his careful inspection of the hallway.
“You’ll see.” He tugged you into a nearby bathroom beside him and his motives clicked into place for you.
You giggled slightly as the two of you stuffed into one of the stalls. You were thankful that everyone's attention was on the celebrities in the banquet hall, causing the bathroom to be empty. George pinned you against the stall door and crashed his lips into yours, moaning as you ground your hips into his. His fingers dug into your sides as your hand snaked down to rub against him through his trousers. "Are you really going to fuck me in a bathroom stall?" Your voice came out breathy and uneven.
"Only if you beg," he quipped back.
"Do it." You smiled up at him, reaching for his belt buckle. He pulled at your dress as you did this.
"If you insist," he jested as you fumbled with his zipper slightly, causing him to chuckle. After the two of you spent an agonizing amount of time trying to unzip the zipper, he was finally accessible to you. In an instant his lips were on yours, messily shoving his tongue against yours in a fit of hair and teeth as his arm wrapped around your waist. He rather roughly --- and rather ungracefully --- discarded your underwear to a different spot in the bathroom, gripping on one of your legs and pulling it up to rest against his hip. He restrained you against the stall door and you pushed his pants farther down his legs.
“How much time do we have?” You asked, taking his length in your hand. You felt him harden more with your touch as you jerked him a few times.
He buried his face in your shoulder, moving your hand and positioning himself in between your thighs. “Enough,” he answered before pressing himself into you with a string of curse words. You hooked your arms around his shoulders in an attempt to combat your weakening knees. He gave you only seconds to adjust to him before he began to thrust into you, holding you steady against the stall. His hot breath rolled over your shoulder as he buried himself deeper into you, moving quicker. Your head tilted back against the cool metal of the door at his actions as you bit back a moan of your own. You were positive that if he hadn’t been there, you wouldn’t have been able to stand on your own. You fought the urge to plunge your hands into his hair, vaguely remembering the purpose for tonight and the fact that photos still needed to be taken. The sound of his moaning in your ear, his lips against your shoulder and neck, and his upward thrusts were bringing you closer to your climax. And seemingly just in time.
George kissed you briefly. “I’m close,” he practically groaned.
“Already?” You quipped back and he narrowed his eyes at you again, almost calling you on your hypocrisy. He picked up his pace, causing you to let out a small whimper. “Cum,” you stated as he gripped onto the top of the door behind you.
“Ladies first,” he groaned into your ear. You tightened around him with a rather devious expression; you were going to win this unintended competition. He brought your leg up higher for more leverage and had miraculously found your sweet spot. “I said, ‘you first’.”
You bit your lip. “George, I…” And that’s when you felt him release inside of you. A wicked grin spread across your face as your own orgasm followed closely behind his. George’s body seemed to untense in your arms and take a breath.
“I beat you,” he jeered, untangling himself and pulling his pants back into place.
You chuckled and straightened your dress, looking for your underwear. “It wasn’t a race, you psychopath.” George looked down at his watch and his eyes grew a bit wider. The two of you struggled to get out of the bathroom stall and then nearly sprinted to get to the banquet hall again. Faces flushed, you took your seats just in time.
“Where did the two of you disappear off to?” Sam asked with a look of relief washing over his stressed expression.
You felt yourself blush and opened your mouth to say something but George beat you to it. “Phone call,” he answered simply. Sam seemed satisfied with the comment.
“Some phone call,” Dean quirked from beside you.
#1917 imagines#1917#george mackay#george mackay x reader#george mackay imagines#will schofield x reader#schofield#will schofield imagine#dean charles chapman
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A Little Light - Blake & Schofield x reader
WARNINGS: x
A/N: just so you know, this is NOT a romantic imagine. I purposely chose not to include any kind of romance cause that's exactly what made the original scene so beautiful & real :) <3
---
"Il n'y a rien ici. Nous n'avons rien pour vous. S'il vous plaît." (There is nothing here. We have nothing for you. Please.) Your voice was quiet but shaking, fear quickly taking over you as you revealed yourself, slightly stepping out of the dark corner you were hiding in. The knot in your throat tightened as you noticed the rifle the two soldiers were holding and you stepped back a little when their eyes met yours.
"Anglais...not German." One of them said as they both set their rifle down, holding their hands up. "Friends...we are friends."
"I'm Blake. And this is Schofield." The younger one continued, gesturing to himself and his friend. Feeling relieved as you understood they weren't a threat, you nodded your head and slowly walked out of your hiding place, hugging your arms close to yourself.
"You are hurt...." you whispered softly as you noticed blood on the back of Schofield's head. Taking a step towards him, you pointed at a chair near the fire. "Asseyez-vous." (sit down)
"Asseyez-vous, monsieur." (sit down, sir) you insisted as he suddenly began to sway, feeling nauseous.
"C'mon Scho, sit down." you heard the younger soldier say as he placed a hand over his friend's shoulder. The man swayed slightly before dropping into the chair. Slowly, you moved over to him and placed your hand on his, making him jump as tenderness was still foreign to him. You carefully parted his damp hair and accidentally let your finger brush over the wound, making him flinch. You apologized silently before reaching down and taking out a handkerchief, holding it against the wound to stop the bleeding.
"Il me reste un petit peu de désinfectant. Je peux vous le donner." (I have a little bit of disinfectant left. I can give it to you.)
"No..." the man answered before turning slowly to face you, your gaze locking momentarily. "Save it for yourself, in case you need it." he continued, his voice weak from pain and tiredness. After a moment, you nodded.
Then, a soft sound suddenly came from behind you, and both men's eyes shot open. Getting up carefully, you moved to the corner of the room and lifted up a baby from an old drawer that had been lined with cloth. The boys quickly followed after you, their eyes never leaving the baby.
"Bonjour ma puce..." (hello, sweetie...) you whispered, taking a sit on the dusty mattress that laid on the floor. You stroked the little girl's cheeks as she began crying, kissing her forehead and mumbling soothing words as Blake and Schofield kneeled in front of you.
"Shhh, je suis là. Je suis là. (Shh. I'm here. I'm right here.) Regarde. On n'est pas toutes seules. Tu dis bonjour?" (Look. We're not alone. You wanna say hi?) The little girl's cries subsisted as she laid her eyes on the soldiers, intrigued by them.
The two boys stared at the baby with a soft smile as she squirmed around and whimpered into your arms for a moment. Looking up, you could see the excitement glowing in the younger boy's eyes.
"Est-ce que— est-ce que tu veux la porter?...hold her?" you asked. You could tell he was unsure of what to do or say, not knowing if this was a good idea. Blake turned to Schofield who nodded at him after a few seconds. With a smile, you moved closer and carefully handed the baby over to Blake, not letting go until you were certain he had the hang of her.
"Make sure to support her head." Schofield spoke softly and Blake nodded as he started cradling her gently. The baby settled in his arms almost immediately, making him smile. Her big brown eyes were staring up at him and she reached up, trying to touch his face.
"She's beautiful..." Blake murmured as she grabbed his finger with her tiny palm and gurgled happily. Blake looked up at you with a bright smile before turning his attention back to the baby, softly stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. You and Schofield shared a soft look, appreciating this small heartwarming moment.
"She likes you." you whispered, smiling fondly at the scene in front of you, temporarily forgetting about the harsh reality of the outside world.
"What is her name?" Blake continued.
"Je ne sais pas. Elle n'est pas à moi..." (I don't know. She's not mine...)
Suddenly, the little girl's eyes filled with tears and a small cry left her throat. Blake tensed, his face falling with worry.
"She's hungry." You spoke as you reached out to stroke her tiny head. With a heavy heart, Blake handed her back to you, letting you cradle her. Placing your hand behind her tiny head, you carefully lifted her up to your shoulder, rubbing her back softly and whispering soothing words into her ear.
"Here. I have milk." Schofield announced as he pried the canteen from his belt, handing it over to you. You looked up at him, wearing a look of pure amazement and gratitude.
"Take these as well." Blake continued, before opening his pack and emptying his rations on the mattress. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out of it. "Take them all, for you and her."
"Je ne peux pas—" you finally managed to blurt out. "Vous en avez besoin...gardez-les." (I can't— you need that food...keep it.)
Before any of them could answer, the distant sound of the church bell startled them, and with one last glance towards the baby, they stood up. You watched them confused, holding the child closer to you as you followed them.
"Qu'est-ce que vous faites? Attendez, s'il vous plaît. Il va bientôt faire jour. Les soldats, ils vont vous voir." (What are you doing? Wait, please. It will be light soon. The soldiers, they'll see you.)
"We're sorry." Schofield answered as he grabbed his rifle and walked to the doorway, Blake following closely.
"Attendez, je vous en prie. Restez." (Wait, please. Stay.) you reached for Blake's arm, and his expression dropped even more when he saw your frightened state.
"I'm really sorry, but we have to go now." he eventually tried to reason with you. "My brother, along with hundred of men are in danger." Blake answered. You hadn't noticed the single tear that rolled down to your cheek until you felt its salty taste on your lips. After a few seconds, you let go of his arm and nodded slowly, taking a step back. You wrapped your arm around the baby protectively but also for comfort as you watched them walk over to the doorway with their rifles clutched in their hands.
And before you knew it, with one last apology, you were left alone again surrounded by darkness and fear.
#tom blake x reader#1917 x reader#tom blake#thomas blake x reader#will schofield x reader#schofield x reader#blake x reader#william schofield x reader#dean charles chapman x reader#george mackay x reader#dean charles chapman imagine#george mackay imagine#blueeyeddean
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However Long It Takes || William Schofield
1917 (2019)
~PART TWO~
Warnings: Slight gore, swearing.
Summary: He first met you in the summer before the war. Since then, you had been the only thing on his mind. Now, he will do whatever it takes to get back to you.
Author’s note: 1917 SPOILERS! If you haven’t seen the movie then please don’t read! I have now changed my original plans, and am attempting to make this a four-part series, so stay tuned for more! Also, apologies for the incredibly long chapters. In addition to this chapter, I wrote this late at night, so please ignore any spelling mistakes. I was tired and wanted to write, so please enjoy!
Though his letters became less frequent, Will sent as many of them as he could.
You looked forward to the days when they arrived, you were anxious to see how he was coping on the front line. His letters usually contained as small gift, usually a pressed flower he managed to find on his way to and from his post. At some point, a small and delicate rose was encased in a letter addressed to you, Will telling you that one of his close friends, Lance Corporal Tom Blake, had traded a packet of old cigarettes to get it, not that the young man smoked anyway. ‘You should give it to your girl back home’ Blake had told him, having given Will the rose ‘She’ll love it I reckon, pity you can’t send her a cherry blossom’.
You laughed to yourself quietly, as Annabelle and Catherine were asleep in the next room. With tearful eyes, you pressed a gentle kiss to the paper, sighing heavily as you gently placed the letter and the rose on top of a discarded book atop your bed. There was still much to do before Mrs Schofield came home from the bakery, where she had been all day.
Not too long after Will left for the war, Mrs Schofield had asked you to move in with them after your mother had moved to the country to take care of your grandparents. You had kindly obliged, and it had made the Schofield family’s life incredibly easier. As you cleaned the dishes, you hummed quietly to yourself, the humming eventually turning into soft singing. It was a wordless lullaby that your mother used to sing to you when you were little, and now you sung it for the Schofield sisters to fill their dreams with faeries and sugar plum castles. You did your best to shield those two little girls from the horrors of war. They were your only light in this dark corner of the world that you inhabited.
So many men had not returned home, the thought of Will being one of those men...
Your humming ceased into silence, the dishes in the sink sat unmoving in the soapy water as your hands clenched into tight fists, your knuckles turning white wrapped around the dishcloth. The thought of losing Will, the thought of him not coming home sent cold shivers down your spine.
The door to the Schofield home opened and closed swiftly, Mrs Schofield entering with a tired sigh. She made her way into the kitchen where her weary eyes met your own with a kind expression. “Are the girls asleep?” she asked quietly, once again sighing heavily as you nodded wordlessly. The older woman collapsed into one of the chairs beside the dining table, placing her head in her hands as she closed her eyes. Deciding to finish the dishes later, you moved to sit opposite Mrs Schofield, quietly pulling out your own chair whilst sitting down wordlessly. “How were the girls toady?” the older woman asked lowly, running a stressed hand over her messy greying hair. You smiled “They were well behaved...” you began as you looked towards Annabelle and Catherine’s closed bedroom door “I took them for a picnic up by the cherry blossom orchard, they enjoyed the sunshine for a change”.
Mrs Schofield smiled, chuckling in amusement at the painted image of her daughters running and chasing each other through the rows and rows of cherry blossom trees. Being children again. The trees themselves were not in bloom, but it would have been a joyous sight to behold. It had been the first time they had laughed in the years Will had left. “I’m glad you are here Y/n...” Mrs Schofield mumbled tiredly, yawning as she struggled to keep her eyes open “you have made this war a whole lot more bearable by being there for my family, and for Will”. Small tears welled in your eyes at her kind words, a lump forming in your throat as you choked back a shaky sigh. “You should write to him more...” you spoke slowly, swallowing that hard lump as you cleared your throat “he knows you are busy, but he asked how you were in his most recent reply and-”
“I don’t...” Mrs Schofield interrupted suddenly, her eyes opening quickly and narrowing on your form. Taking a deep breath, she continued “...I’m too scared to write. What if the one time that I do, he gets blown to pieces before he can even read it”. You mouth fell agape in shock, your eyes wide with disbelief. “He is your son! How could you say something like that!?” You quietly exclaimed, your knuckles turning white as you gripped the edge of the table tightly. Mrs Schofield shook her head with a grumble “You know that this war will take more lives-” “And you think that your own son will be one of them!? I cannot believe that you would believe such a thing!-”
“Mum?”.
A quiet voice from the kitchen doorway. As your turned, your chest tightened at the sight of Annabelle and Catherine, bleary-eyed with stray strands of hair sticking up in awkward angles. The house was completely silent as both girls stared between the two of you, confusion enveloping their expressions. “Is everything alright?” Annabelle mused, her voice low and quiet. When no response came from their own mother, who instead chose to remain silent and avoid her daughter’s gaze, you sighed heavily as you stood from your seat. “Everything is fine girls. Now come, let’s get you back to bed” you spoke sweetly, walking towards them with a kind smile all the while ushering the young girls back to their room. Before you left the kitchen, you turned back to Mrs Schofield with a disapproving stare. “Write to your son...” you spoke angrily, watching sadly as the said woman ignored you completely. It was hard for her, for everyone in this town. “It would mean the world to him if you did”.
When no answer came in response, you sighed heavily and left Mrs Schofield to her own devices and made your way to Annabelle and Catherine’s room. Ignoring their sad gaze, you lazily removed your shoes and sat on the end of Catherine’s bed, sighing heavily as you did so. Annabelle clambered from her bed into her younger sister’s, the two of them sharing an uncertain glance. “Will isn’t coming home, is he?” Annabelle spoke timidly, lying down beside her sister with her eyes slightly glazed. You moved to lie down between them, wrapping your arms around them and bringing them close to your side. “Of course he is! He’ll come back, I know it” you tried to say positively, giving each of them a tight hug while they closed their eyes to return to sleep. It was hard to remain so positive, let alone this optimistic. But you hoped, prayed that Will would eventually come home.
William chuckled to himself as he read your letter, his eyes taking their time in tracing your cursive handwriting:
I took your sisters to the cherry blossom orchard yesterday. While they might not have been in bloom, they enjoyed it nonetheless. It was the first time they have actually enjoyed themselves since your departure. I have also taught your sisters how to read much more...challenging novels. They have grown up so much Will, they are becoming beautiful young women. Strangely, Annabelle has developed a liking to Shakespeare. Even though she has no understanding what is written, she seems completely fascinated by the story of Romeo and Juliet.
Catherine has found her own artistic talent in drawing! I have encased a drawing of hers inside this letter, as she desperately wanted you to have it.
Your mother wishes you well, Will. She is planning to write to you soon. She misses you greatly, we all do.
I hope you will be home soon, my love. I will wait for you for however long it takes.
Forever yours, Y/n.
P.S. Tell Tom that I found the rose a beautiful gesture. You are lucky to have such a good friend by your side.
Placing the letter aside, Will reached back inside the envelope to remove a small piece of paper. Unfolding the paper brought a large smile to his face, as the multi-coloured swirls of Catherine’s drawing formulated a dazzling memory. Although the majority were stick-figures, the drawing was of the night he had met you, dancing in the town square on that magical summer night. William was amazed, he hadn’t thought that his sisters had been watching. Then again, he supposed that the two smaller yet distinct figures hiding by the lamppost was them anyway. With a feather-light kiss to the paper, will removed the tobacco tin from within his coat pocket and carefully opened it, as to not make a mess of the contents inside. As he placed the drawing and your letter inside, Will’s eyes caught a glimpse of your picture. You had sent it in your first letter to him.
While the photo itself was in black and white, he knew the look of your crimson dress anywhere. You stood amongst the cherry blossom orchard, your (hair/colour) hanging loosely and dotted with stray petals. “Another letter from your girl, eh?” Tom mused from his side, the silence behind the front line broken by the Lance Corporal’s laughter. Slightly embarrassed by his friend, Will chuckled deeply as he placed the tobacco tin back inside his coat pocket. “Yes, it was-” “Did she say anything about the rose? The Frenchman I traded with was a right bastard”.
William laughed louder, he wished he could have seen your face when you beheld the rose. “She did...” he began, smiling fondly “she said and I quote ‘I found the rose a beautiful gesture”. Tom snorted, shaking his head slowly as he spoke “Well I’m glad, she seems like a wonderful woman”. The two of them fell into a comfortable silence, casting their eyes towards the sky to stare up at the flickering stars. The silence was unnerving. Usually, there would be some sort of artillery shelling occurring, but now it was unbearably quiet. “Do you think this war will end?” Tom asked somewhat casually, his tone laced with sadness and uneasiness. Will turned to look at his friend with a bewildered expression “I hope so, I’m sure many of us would like to go back to our families”. A low hum came from Tom as he shifted in his position in the grass. “I wonder how my brother is, I haven’t heard from him in a while, you know...”.
As Tom spoke continuously about his brother, or various other topics, Will found himself slowly succumbing to the lull of sleep. He was tired, so very tired, and all he wanted to do was dream of home. To dream of being at home with his mother, with his sisters, and at home with you.
William knew that Tom was standing beside him, his hand outstretched in waiting. He knew, because of the shadows dancing across his eyelids. He didn’t want to wake, having heard the majority of the conversation with Sergeant Sanders moments prior.
Pick a man, bring your kit.
Reluctantly, Will opened his eyes. At first, he eyed Tom’s extended hand skeptically, before lifting his gaze to meet his friend’s eyes. Without a second thought, Will took the hand before him, and was hauled to his feet in one swift movement. As Will grabbed his helmet and rifle, an uneasy feeling settled within his stomach.
He wasn’t sure what Blake had picked him for exactly, but something told him that this would be no easy task.
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#1917#william schofield#william schofield x reader#george mackay#1917 x reader#will schofield#will schofield x reader#will schofield imagine#william schofield imagine
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Coming Home (Will Schofield Fluff)
Requested: Yes / No
Word count: 1,819
Author’s Note: This is all over the place, I apologize
The sun’s rays warmed your back as you kneeled before the garden in the front of your home. The sky was a pale shade of blue, and the temperature was warm, but not hot. Your flowers were beginning to bloom and the nature around your home was beautiful. The only downside was that your husband, Will, wasn’t here to bask in the beauty alongside you.
When Will had returned from town, hand clutching a draft card, you were struck with worry. The townspeople had been calling this war the Great War, and you had heard why. The loss of life was ghastly, and now your husband was about to be thrown into the fray.
He had walked briskly up the path to your home, reaching for your hand. After that, he pressed a kiss to your forehead before wrapping you up in his embrace.
You would learn soon enough that his embrace was what you missed the most.
That night at dinner, he had asked your daughters, “You’ve heard about the war at school?” They were both so young, then. Merely 7 and 5, they had no reason for knowing the horrors of the war. They both had nodded, though, unaware that their father was soon to break the unfortunate news to them.
When they heard their father was leaving, countless tears were shed. Not only from your daughters, but from you and Will as well. Nobody wanted to be separated, but the country required it.
All you could do was hope he would come back.
Three years had passed, and the spring of 1918 was in full bloom. You continued to work in the garden, pulling weeds and watering the new blossoms.
Finishing up in the garden, you began the short walk into town to take your daughters home after school. The often-travelled dirt road to town was empty, a sight that used to be unusual, but since the start of the war, had become normal. With all the young men off to fight, everything seemed to be different.
‘Would things ever get back to normal?’ You asked yourself, approaching the town.
The schoolhouse was a beautiful building, built from solid red brick and oak. As the children began to file out the door, you caught sight of your younger daughter. “Mama!” She cried happily, running from the doorway into your arms. You knelt down to greet her, hugging her. “Is Daddy coming home?” She asks excitedly, still in your arms.
You pick your head up to meet her gaze, smiling sadly. “I don’t know yet, darling,” you began, “a lot of things are still uncertain.” Her brows furrowing, she stepped back to look up at you. “My teacher says that the Army is starting to send people home. Her brother is coming home tomorrow, and she said that we need to ask and see if anyone we know is coming home,” she said, happiness slowly draining from her face at your blank expression.
“I didn’t hear that, darling,” you reply. Upset, your daughter sighs before turning to face the schoolhouse entrance, awaiting her older sister’s exit.
A few minutes pass, and your eldest daughter walks out of the schoolhouse. As her eyes fall on you, she walks up to you before smiling and hugging you. “We need to go to the post office, right away!” She says, in place of her usual greeting.
You couldn’t help but give in to them. The girls had been through so much these past years without their father, but they were always strong and carried through.
As the three of you walk to the post office, hand in hand, the young paper delivery boy exits the building. He rushes over to you, gladness painted on his youthful face.
“He’s coming home, Mrs. Schofield!” The boy cries. Spirits flying, you are eager to read the letter stating your husband was coming home. The young boy continues, “I can’t wait to see my father again!” As the realization dawns on you that it isn’t Will that’s coming home, you are once again filled with worry and sorrow.
“That’s fantastic!” You say to the boy, smiling happily for him in spite of yourself.
You only wished that it was you and the girls celebrating like that.
As the paper boy skipped away happily, you turn to your daughters, squeezing their hands. “He’ll come back, I know it,” you murmur to them quietly. Nodding eagerly in response, they pull you along to the front door of the post office.
As you enter, the familiar aroma of paper and ink envelopes you. Inhaling slowly, you relish in the comforting scent before approaching the front desk.
“Good afternoon, Marge. Is there any mail for us?” You inquire to the lady working. Smiling back at you, Marge reaches down to pick up a short stack of mail.
“This one’s from Army Command,” Marge tells you, excitement bubbling within her for you. As she hands the stack over to you, Marge turns to your daughters, waving at them before reaching into a drawer and retrieving a toffee for each of them.
You grin at Marge, thanking her for the candy and the mail. She waves a friendly goodbye to the three of you before returning to her work. Exiting the post office, your daughters look up at you, hope practically seeping through their faces.
“We’ll read it when we get home,” you told them, although you were just as eager as them to read the letter. “How about we race home, then?” Your younger daughter suggests, a smirk playing on her lips. Both you and your other daughter look at her before glancing at each other, each of you grinning.
“Okay. On your mark, get set, go!” You exclaim. The three of you rush home, kicking up dirt as you run. The spring breeze is warm against your face and the grass and flowers you run past are only a blur of color. ‘It’s beautiful,’ you think.
The run to your home was relatively short, but when you arrived back you were all panting. Out of breath, you enter the house and place the mail on the dining room table. Your daughters begin to giggle, their contagious laughter ringing throughout the house. You laugh as well, basking in the time you get to spend with them.
“Come on, then! Let’s read it!” Your younger daughter urges you, grabbing the letter from the table and seating herself. Her sister nods enthusiastically, anticipation clawing at her.
You sit down at the table, and reach for the letter from your daughter’s hand. Opening the letter, your eyes scanned the paper. Reaching the end, you gasp loudly and happily, your hand reaching up to cover your mouth in shock.
A large smile breaks out on your face, a breathless laugh leaving your mouth. “He’s coming home,” you murmured to yourself, looking up to meet the expectant gazes of your daughters. It seemed unreal, but you held in your hand the proof that it was indeed reality.
“He’s coming home,” you repeated, a bit louder. The idea seemed so foreign to you that you couldn’t contain the excitement but also confusion that came with the fantastic news that yes, your husband was alive and was going to come home.
Your daughters pick up on your anxious, yet excited, response and quickly sit up to read the letter themselves. Whooping with joy, they leap from their seats with wild smiles on their faces. “Daddy’s coming home!” They cried together.
After all, this was the moment they had been waiting for, just as much as you.
Two weeks pass, and you walk to the train station, hand in hand with your daughters. Approaching the station, you’re giddy with anticipation. Your daughters’ hands shake in your own, unbelievably eager to see their father.
A scarlet steam engine pulls into the station, and young men gleefully jump from the train onto the platform, rushing to hug their loved ones. Your eyes scan the crowd hopefully, praying for a glimpse of Will’s sandy blond hair. Seeing nothing, you glance down at your daughters, smiling softly. “I’m sure he’s on the next one,” you say to them, hoping that the words were true.
‘He can’t be dead, right?’ You asked yourself.
As the station platform slowly clears, your eyes drift to the sky. The soft, gentle breeze of the morning has picked up its pace. The sky darkens and you smell a whiff of rain.
Leading your daughters to an empty bench, you take a seat between them, breathing in the fresh air. Flowers were planted along edge of the platform, and you could smell their sweet aroma from your seat. You close your eyes, waiting for the next train.
The train that would hopefully carry your husband.
‘Hopefully,’ you thought.
But there’s only one way to find out.
Your daughters stand up to play in the small grass field near the platform as you move to observe the flowers. You kneel to get a good smell of a beautiful daisy, and that’s when you hear it.
It’s faint . . . but it’s a train whistle nonetheless.
“Girls,” you call out to them. Ceasing their game, they rush to you and cling to each leg. The platform had begun to fill up once again, as the next wave of families yearned to see their soldiers return home.
Another train, this time black and gray in color, pulls into the station and soldiers begin to exit the train. You search the crowd until you see a head of ruffled, sandy blond hair. Smiling, you stand up taller to try and get a glimpse of the man’s face. Your excitement rubs off on your daughters, who begin to smile as well.
The sandy blond-haired man approaches your group slowly, unbeknownst to you. As the man steps into your line of sight, you let out a strangled gasp.
Standing before you is Will. He looks tired and hungry and unkempt, but he’s still Will.
You rush forward, throwing your arms around him. His arms snake around your waist, pulling you flush against him. Will buries his head in your neck, inhaling your sweet scent. Your daughters hurry forward, each hugging their father around the waist. Will pulls away, his arms still around your waist before he kisses your forehead.
The kiss is gentle, but holds years worth of passion and love. “I missed you all, so much,” Will says, his voice rough with emotion. Kneeling down to face his daughters, he hugs them both before standing again to face you.
“It was horrible, love. Honestly,” he begins, “But knowing that you were waiting here patiently for me to come home means everything to me. If fighting in France is what keeps you safe, know that I’d do it a thousand times over if it means getting to come home and see your bright smile again.”
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Morning, love Y/N x George Mackay
You work with George in a theatre company, but he doesn’t let you walk home alone in the middle of the night and you have to stay over at his place
Word count: 1105 words
I’ll take you home. Was his final decision. You lived too far from the theatre company, but still, he wouldn’t let you go alone all the way. It was all so unintentional, so convenient, so when he said those words your heart skipped a beat and an immediate yes came out of your mouth. Don’t be so stupid, you told yourself a moment later. You had been working with him for months-- laughing with him daylily, him seeing you at your best and your worst. All for the sake of a good production, that to the point where you stayed behind with a couple of your co-workers to rehearse some extra hours, make the final arrangements. You didn’t notice it was three AM, what you also didn’t notice is that you sipped a bit too much on wine on the process. He did. He politely interrupted you, so consumed by work, and without asking, told you he was taking you home. You agreed. He knows that you live on the other side of London, and that you walk over to your flat; its how you feel the safest. Still, its three AM.
He helps you put your coat on, and you begin to walk. He doesn’t talk much, you notice that he is looking for what to say. You don’t say anything, feeling a bit tipsy and not wanting to spoil it.
“Are you sure you want to go all the way there?” you ask him as you feel tiny raindrops on your scalp.
“Of course,” he answers with a smile. That smile. No matter what he does, when he smiles, however slightly, his eyes lighten up and there are small wrinkles that are formed around them. He is older than you, but those wrinkles are only found in people who smile all the time. You give him a goofy smile in return. Oh please, don’t let me be this tipsy.
Distracted by him, you almost slip, but he gets a hold of you, pulling you towards him. You both laugh, but you can feel the heat rising up your cheeks as you notice the lack of space between you.
“You alright?” he asks as you stare into the endless blue of his eyes
“Shit, I think its going to pour,” you comment, separating yourself from him. Y/N why are you like this? Don’t ruin it! your inner voice says, but you know you have to be professional with him.
“Ummm, I don’t have an umbrella with me and I don’t think you have one with you. I don’t think sending you off in a cabbie would be the best. Don’t you think its more convenient if you spent the night in my flat?”
“Your house?” you blurt out, “DO I LOOK THAT DRUNK?!”. He laughs, perhaps too much.
“No, not at all.” He pauses to smile, “Well maybe a little, but to be honest I feel a bit tipsy myself, plus its a block away. If you wouldn’t mind.”
You agree to it. Wait, YOU DO WHAT?!
You stay silent the rest of the way, unsure of what to say. Your heart is pounding in your chest, there are too many things at play. As you arrive, he opens the door for you, and helps you up the staircase. Going out to the cold being tipsy was definitely not a good idea.
“What do you think?” he asks. Surprisingly, his flat is very normal. Pretty, organised, aesthetic, but normal. You would have thought that a person like him, would reflect his personality in his decoration, but at the same time it was humble, just like him.
“I like it very much,” you tell him, all honesty.
From then on, he doesn’t leave you alone. Offering you a meal, an oversized t-shirt for you to sleep in, finding a Clinique makeup remover for you. Claiming that he did not get it from a woman, but that it is his own personal makeup remover he uses when he is curious. You believing him and laughing at his justification, given that he did not need one. Him pouring both of you a glass of wine, you telling him that it had been a while since you had a sleepover.
“Well its been a while since I have had to sleep in a couch in my own home,” he laughs. You tell him how he doesn’t have to, how you can take the couch. He insists that you sleep on the bed, you insist he shouldn’t sleep in the couch. He asks where then he should sleep.
“The bed of course,” you reply without thinking it twice.
He raises an eyebrow. Shit shit shit shit. Y/N, you have outdone yourself.
“You little flirt,” he smiles daringly.
“Who, me?” you ask, getting closer.
“Yes, you,” he answers as he puts his hand on your back, and takes a step forward.
“Is that so?” you challenge further, feeling his shortness of breath being that close he is.
“I do believe it is,” he says in almost a whisper.
He leans in, and you don’t think twice. You put your lips on his.
You look at him as you pull away, a millisecond, just to measure the damage done. He smiles at you and shakes his head, “why do you do this to me, Y/N, consume me like this?”
He kisses you again, gently, but gentle is not enough. Theres a fire inside you both that you have not ignited. You search for him with your hands, your tongue, and he meets you with his. He kisses your neck, and you let him. You take the t-shirt he has given you and tug it upwards so lightly so he understands. He looks into your eyes, looking for a wordless ‘yes’ he needs to hear. He carries you, he lays you down. He kisses every inch of you as you call out his name. He answers with kisses and touch. George, why do you consume me like this, you want to ask, until he does. Air leaves you, you forget your own name, until he says it over and over as if it were some sacred chant. “Y/N, Y/N, Y/N”, he says in a song, in prayer, in awe.
You wake up to your head in his chest, your hand close to his. Both of you perfectly still, both of you afraid to break the spell, charm, and curse you have cast upon yourselves. You close your eyes again, focusing on his heartbeat, only to have them open when he whispers, “morning, love”
#george mackay#1917#1917 meme#fic#george mackay x reader#schofield#will schofield imagine#george mackay imagine#1917 imagine#self insert#fanfic#fanfiction writing#y/n#william schofield#will schofield x reader#captain fantastic#englishmen x reader#englishmen#bodevan#bodevan cash
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