#queen bunnyears

[queen-bunnyears]

Chapter Two - Christmas Eve

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield x Reader, Tom Holland x Reader (not at the same time)

Summary: Every year with Christmas Tom, his brothers, some friends and you rented a house in Scotland to celebrate the holidays and New Years Eve with a lot of friends. Last year’s christmas you and Harrison had something special going on, and this year he brings his new girlfriend. Chaos ensues.

Am I ignoring corona christmas lockdown in this fic? You bet your ass I am.

Am I posting three chapters in one night cus I forgot to post the first two? Yes ma’am I am. 

Wordcount: 1,6k

Warnings: consuming of alcohol, probs some swearing.

Chapter one - Chapter three

24 December 2020

Your car looked lonely in the empty parking space next to the cottage. You and Tom were early to make the house ready for everyone. Decorating the house with Tom and Harrison was tradition, but Harrison couldn't make it in time so it was just the two of you. You took boxes with lights, food and drinks from your trunk. The whole car was stuffed to the ceiling with enough food and drinks for everyone who was coming, about 10 friends. 

"Hey dreamy! Could you get those light strings? If you hang them around the porch I‘ll take the beer crates inside," Tom said, waving his hand in front of your face. You laughed and got to hanging strings of small lights around the porch and fence. When you were done the whole garden lit up. In the meantime Tom had emptied your car. You walked into the house. The christmas tree wasn't decorated yet, but the house already looked cosier than before. Tom walked in, two beers in his hands. 

"A beer while decorating?"

"Let's first pick rooms. Is that okay? I want to have a good room if I am gonna be the only single lady this week," you laughed, taking the beer from his hands, "but I won't say no to beer,"

You raced Tom up the stairs, going left and opening a door. You threw your bag on the bed and sat down on it, taking a sip of your beer. 

"Okay you won," he laughed. The room you had claimed was the prettiest of all rooms in the house. It had an ensuite bathroom, and a balcony. A large queen sized bed made the dream complete. Most other rooms were half the size of this one, so you were always fixed on claiming it as soon as you arrived. Tom and Harrison usually shared the other master room next to yours, with two single beds, so Tom wasn’t really upset you beat him. He threw his bag in the room next door and raced you down the stairs again.

Decorating time had started, and you knew you were going to be putting up lights and christmas decorations for hours. All I want for Christmas came on, you started singing along, hearing Tom bring in the ladder and scream from the top of his lungs, singing the song you had heard four times in the car already. Nothing could beat christmas.

“Sam!” you hugged Sam tightly. You and Sam were close every year at christmas. Your shared love for cooking got you spending hours in the kitchen together, making two excessive dinners for the actual christmas days, but also making lots of snacks and often cooking supper for everyone. You had met over coffee a week ago just for planning meals and groceries. 

“Y/n! So good to see you. How are you?” he asked. You chatted lightly, helping him and his girlfriend put their stuff in one of the empty rooms. By five Sam, Tuwaine and Jacob had arrived, only Harrison and Harry hadn’t yet. Everyone was in their bedroom, unpacking their bags. You walked to your car to grab your pillow you had left in the car, when you saw Harrison standing next to his car. 

“Hey Haz, “ you said, waving with your pillow in your hands. 

“Hey,” he said. Damn he looked good. His hair had grown a bit since you saw him last time, half a year ago. It looked more like last Christmas. 

“I should go back inside, see you later,” you said awkwardly, and turned around hurrying back into the cottage. 

"Oh, this room is pretty!" You looked up over the bag you were unpacking and saw a pretty woman standing next to the door.  "I see it's taken. I'm sorry,”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. There has to be an empty room left. You are Harry's girl right?”

‘No Harrison”s girlfriend actually,’ she smiled.  “Lily,” she extended her hand for you to shake, “you must be Y/n. Hazzi told me so much about you!”

“Oh, did he?” you said, shaking her hand, “I suppose only the bad parts. Please tell me everything he said during dinner,” 

“Oh I will! He spoke in detail about your talents for cooking,” you laughed. When she left you sat down on your bed, trying to oppress your laughter. How did he find her? You had never met someone who looked so subtly like you. The haircut, colour, her eye color, body shape… Yet there was something quite different about her. You remembered her calling Haz Hazzi, and you smiled. You were never gonna let him live that down. 

“Hey, so Haz brought his girlfriend,” you looked up to see Tom standing in your door, his pillow in his hands. 

“Yeah I just met her. So you came here to fix the bed situation?”

“Well Haz proposed swapping rooms, you and me sharing the double and them getting this one,”

“He can kiss my ass. No way I am giving up the private bathroom and balcony for his unprepared ass,” you muttered. Harrison wasn’t going to take your room, you weren’t gonna let that happen.  

“I thought so. So can you share your queen bed with me? I really don’t feel like sharing a room with them,” Tom said, already throwing his pillow your way.

“Sure,” you looked at your massive bed, “I think there is enough room for both of us.”

“What did you think of her?” Tom let himself fall onto the bed, sat up and patted the spot next to him. You sat down.

“Really Tom, I am fine,” 

“Okay, if you’re not you’ll tell me right?” he asked, eyes studying your face.

“Yeah Tom, I will. The only thing is,-” you hesitated, and Tom nudged you to keep talking, “Is it just me or does she look a bit like, well… Me?” Tom laughed a bit. 

“Yeah I thought so too. I guess Haz has a type,” you laughed too, giving him a hug. 

“Go get your bags, before I have taken up the entire closet,” you said. You were happy he was moving into your room. It was less lonely, and wasn’t that what Christmas was all about?

“Actually, I gotta do a last grocery run. Sam wanted a specific spice he hadn’t put on the list,” Tom said, making a funny face. 

“And you just go get it?” you rolled your eyes, “Well you do you,”

“Hey Y/n” 

“Jeez, should I put a non disturb sign on the door?” you muttered, looking up to see Harrison. ‘How are you doing Haz?” 

‘Uhm yeah,” he hesitated, “Great. How are you? How’s the bathtub?” 

“It’s lovely,” you rolled your eyes, “Tell me, you didn’t actually think I would swap rooms with you did you?” 

“No not really. I’ve known you for long enough to know you won’t give up your room because someone else was unprepared or unannounced,” he laughed. You smiled, glad it wasn’t as awkward as you thought it would be. 

“Well I just value my bathtime,” flashes of him fingering you in the bathtub last year flew through your mind, but you tried to ignore it. He hadn’t changed much since last year, but that was probably just the outside. 

“Have you met Lily?” 

“Yeah I have. She seems really sweet Haz,” you said honestly. “I am happy for you both.” 

“Thanks. I was afraid it was gonna be awkward between us you know,” he said. 

“Yeah me too. But it’ll be fine. See you later,” you hesitated, but then added teasingly, “Hazzi,”

“God isn’t that embarrassing. A terrible nickname, but she really likes it,” he laughed. 

You didn’t exactly know how many glasses you had of Harry’s “Christmas eve special”, but you knew you were drunk. It was one A.M., and you and Tom had been singing “Lonely this Christmas” from the top of your lungs, dancing around together, nearly knocking over the Christmas tree. Most were already to bed, but Harrison, Harry, Tom and you were still up. You broke yourself free from under Tom’s arm, heading towards the bathroom. You felt a hand on your arm and tried to shake it off. 

“Y/n,” were you mistaken or did Haz look completely sober? You apparently said that out loud, because he laughed. “Yeah I haven’t drank anything love,” You stepped back. 

“You don’t get to call me that anymore Haz,” you said, stumbling towards the hallway. “Go to Lily,”

“I just wanted to say that you look good,” you weren’t sure if you heard him right. Your head was slightly spinning, and somewhere in your mind you registered Harry asking if you wanted one last drink.

“What?” Your eyes half closed, you tried to focus on what Harrison said. 

“You look good Y/n. Happy, I mean,” 

“Okay. I am,” he kept his hand on your arm and you really needed him to let you go. You needed to pee. You wanted to have fun, not have Harrison make you sad. “I gotta go.” you said, shaking his hand off. 

When you finally sat down on the toilet you held your head in your hands. Being drunk around Harrison appeared to be a bad idea. When you made your way back to the living room he was gone. Only Tom and Harry were there, together on the couch watching The Grinch. Tom looked up when you came in and gestured beside him on the couch. You dropped your body down and took another sip of your drink. Stupid Harrison. 

Chapter three

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfic #queen bunnyears #My writing #harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield x reader

[duskholland]

Hiii, I have been reading my way through your masterlist, and I just wanted to say you are brilliant. I really love your writing, your stories and everything. Your stories werent only wonderful to read, they also inspired me to write more 😊.

I love the way you write, you really build a vibe in the story, supported by very good detailed surroundings and places, it is something different. That makes it very nice to read, and easy to get lost in. ♡♡♡

🥺🥺🥺 i saw this yesterday and it made me so soft +++ now i’m soft again after rereading it ! thank you so much for this but also for your reblogs!! i really appreciate your kindness. it makes me so happy that you like my fics but also that you got inspired to write more :’) thank you for sharing that with me <333

#thank you so much <33 #this is so lovely #+ my heart is v happy rn #queen-bunnyears #to keep #nice things

[writingfortoomanyfandoms]

Hi love, back in June I signed up for your quarantine/4k writing challenge, and I wrote a long piece, but due to school and my terrible schedule I never got around to finishing it. This week is my autumn break, and I finally finished it, doing a last read through this afternoon and I should be able to post it tomorrow. Do you still wanna be tagged? ♡♡ sorry for being wayyyy too late

hiya! dude I’m so sorry I fully thought I’d replied to this yesterday but it must’ve completely slipped my mind! If you want to tag me then that’s cool! I’ll do my best to get around to reading it asap, but I’m a little busy rn but if you tag me then I promise I’ll check it out and I’d so very much appreciate the tag as well :)

#court talks #asked and answered #dudes I suck at replying to messages sometmes #I'm so sorry #queen-bunnyears

[mypassionfortrash]

Hiii, i just wanted to pop into your asks and let you know how much i love kicks!

Thank you so much, darling! Glad you’re enjoying it ☺️

#queen-bunnyears

[george-mackay-macfine]

Let's Play A Game. CH.5

A/N: I'm so sorry this took so long, but enjoy the smut.

@neocil @cjand10 @queen-bunnyears

He’d watched me all night, every move I made, from moving the fork from the container of chow mien to bringing it to my lips, his eyes never left me. As the red wine I’d drunk spilled out the side of my mouth and ran down my neck, he watched me.

“Something wrong?” I finally asked him when he’d groaned for the sixth time in the last hour as I reached up above me into the cupboard to return the dishes to their home after I’d spent the last fifteen minutes meticulously washing them.

“You.” He said simply.

“I’m wrong?” I grabbed another plate moving to my tippy-toes to put it back. As I reached I heard the chair scratch against the floor as he stood up. “I didn’t think I’d done anything wrong.”

“Really.” He was behind me now, his front pressing into my back as he took the plate from between my fingers and put it on the upper shelf. “Because from where I’m standing,” His hand dropped to my shoulder, running down until his fingers clasped around my wrist. “I can see how you are moving now, and all I can see is how you were moving last night.” Game, set, match.

“Oh,” I shrugged. “Is that all.” I moved my body, shuffling around in the small space he’d left me. “I thought you had some serious mental illness that was making you verbally react to every tiny thing I’d done throughout dinner.” I looked up at him a bright smile on my face. “I’m glad to know you’re all there,” I tapped a finger on the side of his head, just below his temple. “Well,” I shrugged. “As far as we know.” I drug my finger drown the side of his jaw.

“Cheeky,”

“Honest.” I slipped out under his arm and walked towards my bedroom. “I’m going to bed, can you please turn off the lights before you sleep on the couch.”

“Honeybird, I won’t be sleeping on the couch,” I snorted pushing the door open, as I turned back to look at him.

“If that’s what you really think,” I walked to the bed and slipped under the covers laying in the centre of the bed. I turned on the small radio by my bed to distract myself as my heart began beating erratically as I heard him shuffle about in the kitchen. The tink of the wine glass against the counter top. The muffle of his jacket as he stripped it off and threw it over the chairs. Then the sound of his feet tapping against the floor as he walked towards my bedroom.

“Move over Honeybird. You’re hogging the bed.”

“This isn’t the couch.”

“I know.” The cool air nipped at my skin as he lifted my quilt. “Don’t wanna move,” I felt the bed dip as he slid in beside me. “Look’s like we’re snuggling then,” His arms wrapped around my waist, pulling me into his chest.

I hated how his hand on the bare skin on my hip made my heart beat faster.

“Hastings,” I wiggled trying to push his body off mine. “You need to leave me alone and get to the couch,”

“There’s no way to treat your boyfriend, is it?”

“I don’t know, let me go get one and I’ll let you know.”

“Are you saying I’m not your boyfriend.”

“I can’t believe this is how my night is ending.” I groaned from my spot on the bed. Long gone was the warmth the wine had provided me, now I was beginning to feel the cool chill of the night that had begun to settle, and I wasn’t sure if it was the remnants of the wine or if it were Hasting’s words that were beginning to make my cheeks flush against the chill of the room.

“I love this song,” Five hundred miles by the Proclaimers cut through the air. “When I wake up, well I know I’m gonna be, I’m gonna be the man who wakes up next to you.” Hastings sung softly his fingers drawing on my skin. “But I would walk five-hundred miles, and I would walk five-hundred more.” I let a laugh slip out, beyond entertained by the man in my bed, not that I’d ever tell him that. “See a good song.” He pushed some of my hair behind my ear as he continued to sing. “I remember when Johnny D’aleno broke your heart in eight grade and every time I saw you for two months after you were singing this song.”

“I was,” I nodded my head knowing where this story was heading.

“Until me,”

“Until you.” I reluctantly agreed. Praying for my brain to not relive the memories.

“You still mad at him?”

“Who Johnny?” He nodded his head. “Can I even be?” I was fourteen at the time and Johnny was the cutest boy in my grade, but of course every girl wanted him. “Should I be? I knew it would never happen, even at that age.”

“Even if you know it’s coming, you’re never prepared for it, and that.” Hastings let out a soft low whistle. “Your first heart break…” He shook his head. “I know how it feels,”

“What girl would be stupid enough to hurt the Jude Hastings?” His finger dragged over my hip again, slipping his finger underneath the waist band of my panties. “Hastings?”

“Bianca Phillips.” He conceded. “We dated,”

“I remember.” They’d dated for two years until they suddenly broke up, shocking most of our class. “But no one ever knew why,”

“I found her making out in the art room with my best-friend.”

“Jason?” I gasped.

“No, Leah.”

“Leah! What a total dick she was.” Hastings laughed, nodding his head.

“She couldn’t help it, neither of them could.”

“So she was… They both…”

“Yeah.”

“And she never thought to tell you?”

“What? That she was interested in pussy?”

“Well, I wouldn’t have put it quiet like that.”

“I would.”

“Would Hastings from sophomore year put it that way, or would current working professional Jude Hastings put it another way?”

“We both would.” I grabbed onto his hand, stopping it’s movements against my skin.

“Well, sophomore Hastings, I’m sorry that happened to you.” The song began to change as he shrugged his shoulders, the sheet covering his torso slipping down.

“Dance with me.” He whispered as the intro to Ed Sheeran’s Give me love began to play through the small radio.

“What?” Hastings sat up, pulling himself up and chucking his legs over the side of my bed.

“Dance with me.”

“Hastings, I’m tired, and wine drunk I need to sleep.”

“Dance with me, Darcy,” I looked between his outstretched hand and where he stood. “C’mon Darcy, it’s just one dance.”

“What if it isn’t?” I whispered, worried to speak any louder, incase I’d break whatever spell Jude Hastings was trying to put on me.

“And what if it is?” He flashed another of his heartbreaking grins, the kind that would have made sophomore Darcy crash and burn harder than Johnny had. “Be brave, Ali.” The use of the old nickname he’d bestowed upon me in our early childhood made my heart flutter so much that I found myself offering him my hand and allowing him to pull me out of the bed and up to my feet. He pulled me into his bare chest, his left hand holding onto my right, the other wrapping around my waist. My free hand wound itself around his neck, holding on tightly, I knew I was afraid to let go…

It’s the wine, Darcy. Not Jude Hastings.

It is the fucking wine.

We swayed back and forth, my head finding it’s own way to rest on his shoulder, allowing the exposed skin on my neck to his outwards breaths.

“No, I just wanna hold ya.” Hastings sung quietly as we swayed back and forth to the music.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckity fuck.

What was happening? I, Darcy Alice Edwards cannot be feeling anything. If anything this is just my brain malfunctioning because this is what every single rom-com has told me I need, what I want a man to do for me, but this was Jude Hastings, and I couldn’t want this… I did not want this.

But why did it have to be so nice?

Fuck a duck.

I couldn’t deny it, that dancing with Jude Hastings wasn’t making me feel all types of tingles wherever he was touching, and elsewhere in other place he wasn’t touching anymore, and maybe I did want to see where this night was going to go, where this fucking bet was going to go, but the other side of me, who knew what actual heartbreak, not Johnny breaking my heart in eighth grade heartbreak, but real heartbreak felt like. On the other hand, this was fun, as much as I would never admit it to him I always enjoyed our battle of the wits and I’d always found Jude handsome, I mean I’d be blind if I didn’t… but dancing with him in my bedroom wearing nothing more than his dress shirt… there was just something else happening and I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

Shit-balls, is this what a stroke feels like?

Am I meant to be smelling toast?

My heartbeat spiked, I’m sure if I could concentrate I could hear the thump, thump, thump nearly as loudly as I could hear the song through the room. Hastings had noticed I’d stopped swaying, and was now watching me, his hands remaining in their previous position. My breathing was hitching, becoming a varied mess of deep calming exhales and jagged short intakes. Adrenaline started to pump wildly through my body as my brain tried to focus on a silent prayer, praying that I don’t fuck this up, that I don’t fuck up such a perfect moment.

“Darcy.” It was so soft, I’d have missed it if I wasn’t so focused, so consumed by him. He lent down a little, bending at his knee’s so our eyes were level, his hands moved from my waist, each holding onto a side of my face keeping me looking at him. “Darcy,”

“Jude?” Then he was kissing me, a quick peck of soft lips, testing the boundaries, When I didn’t resist the peck was immediately followed by a hungry open mouthed kiss, one I’d only seen in movies like Gone with the wind, and anything by John Hughs. It was wet, and hot and everything teenage me always imagined kissing Jude Hastings would be. My hands traveled his body as his moved around mine, gripping lightly onto his shirt, encouraging to come closer, needing him closer…

Like it were possible for us to be any closer than we were.

His hands left my face, one going to my shoulders, the other around my back as he tried to pull me closer to him and I was at a total surrender, he had me. All of me as I titled my head up we were still kissing like the world was going to end at any moment, his tongue slipped into my mouth, gentle but demanding, controlling the passion of the kiss. My fingers gripped his hair pulling at it as I nibbled on his bottom lip, pulling it between my teeth.

I had never wanted anyone like I want Jude Hastings, ever.

Remember, Darcy. This is all a game. This is all part of his game plane.

“Jude,” I whispered, half torn between him and his lips, and wanting to go open the door to show him the way out so I didn’t fall for his trick any longer. “This isn’t part of the bet, I’m not falling for it.”

“Darcy, you should be kissed often.” His hand came up to my check, the other resting on my hip his shirt pushed up. “By someone who really likes you. Not in a stupid game.”

“Then what’s this? Isn’t it your game?” Just shut your eyes, Darcy. Close them tight… It’ll be over soon and Jude Hastings kissing you will all just be a distant memory, a memory you can use when you’re lonely because you kept telling him to fuck off and one day he did it.

“No?” He shook his head. “All I know is that when someone mentions you. I light up, and the idea of being around you, being consumed by you, and your time… Our stupid pranks” I put my hands against his chest and pushed. He countered my move and held onto my hands.

“You don’t mean that.” Hastings smiled. A happy carefree smile. I used to love those smiles once upon a time. “I can’t think right now, there’s too much in my head.” Too much wine in my system.

“Let me distract you.” He sat down on the bed and pulled me to stand before him. I averted my eyes to the ceiling, if I looked at him right now, I’d lose it. “Let me touch you the way only I can touch you. I know what you need,” His hand went to the waist band of my panties. “I know what you like Darcy, even after one night.” His hand returned to my shirt, his shirt pushing the material upwards. The cold air hit my skin. I felt his lips next. Kissing along the exposed skin. “Tell me you want it,” He whispered against my skin. I nodded, biting my lip, hands going to his shoulders. “I need you to tell me.”

“Please.” I whispered, head finally tilting down from the ceiling. Jude’s hands were on my thighs, slowly pushing my, his, shirt up. His lips still attached to the skin on my stomach, the kissed below my belli button, pulling the waistband of my panties out of the way ever so slightly. God I’ve died and found heaven. He looked up, his lips leaving my skin. Jude’s fingertips hooking onto my underwear. Thank God I was wearing one of my nicer pairs today… Not that Jude would pay much attention to them I’m sure, “Hastings.” I whispered as he pulled my underwear down my legs, dropping them when they got to my knees. He pulled me towards him, I fell onto his lap. My hands still holding onto his shoulders.

“Do you know before last night it’d been three years since I kissed you last?” He leaned in, hands going to the buttons on the shirt.

This was really fucking happening again.

“You remember.” His fingertips ran up and down my spine.

“It’s never left my mind.” My hands left his shoulders and went to his cheeks. “Another stupid game that brought us together.”

“We need to stop playing games together…” I lent down and pressed my lips against his. When I pulled away, his hands wound in my hair pulling my lips back to his.

“God.” He whispered in a moment of separation between us. His tongue traced across my bottom lip gently, but with an urgency and neediness that sent shivers down my spine. I pulled away, his bottom lip was between mine, a trick I’d learned from him, three years prior, now reused on him. “Fucking christ.” His lips moved to my neck, greedily leaving kisses all over.

“Hastings.” He pulled back, grabbing my hand with his dragging it down his chest, he stopped when our hands reached the bulge in his pants.

“Look what you do to me. You feel it?” I nod and move back in, running my fingers through his hair as I kiss him again. Jude’s hands went back to my shirt, moving it so he had more access to my back. Fingertips pushing roughly into my skin. It should have hurt, but instead it made me want more.

“We shouldn’t be doing this.” I whispered. Ignoring my own warning as my hands left his hair and went between us to his belt. “Such a bad idea…” I whispered agains as I undid his belt. What are we even doing? My mind is so muddled by the feeling of his hands running along my back tugging at my hair. The way his teeth nip at my bottom lip as he pulls away, he puts some distance between our lips, looking down at where my hands are working on the buttons on his jeans.

“Then why are you unzipping my jeans.” He grabbed onto my face, holding so gently as if he were worried I would break. “I want you Darcy,” Taking his words as encouragement I reached for his jeans again. Running my fingers along the skin above, fingers playing with the hair leading down from his belly-button.

“Are you sure this is a good idea.” I whispered, looking up from where my hands play to look at Jude. He lowered his head to mine, a hand moving from my back, tickling it’s way up to the back of my neck tilting my head up, until his lips met mine. His lips brushed mine, softly as if he was waiting to see my reaction, when I pushed forward a little he gave me a real kiss, soft and slow. His hand left my neck, going back around my waist, pulling me onto his lap even more, I could feel him underneath me, hard. Ready and waiting. Jude pulled away first, his eyes stared into mine as he watched me move my hand slowly down his bare chest. Dragging it once more down, before leading it into his boxers.

Now, this wasn’t the first time I’d seen a penis. I wasn’t seventeen anymore, I wasn’t a virgin, But this was Jude, and this was Jude’s penis, and while I wasn’t a virgin anymore, I wasn’t a veteran in the penis riding rodeo,

“You look surprised.” He whispered. I couldn’t help but giggle.

“Just thinking about how the high school rumour mill was true for once.” I whispered, I could feel the hard bulge under my fingers and I squeezed it a little, teasing a hiss from him. I took that as a good sign, running my hand up and down the outline of him. I looked down at my hand, watching as it palmed him through his boxers.

“God, Darcy,” He hissed. I looked up his face. His eyes were closed, mouth parted slightly. This was Jude Hastings. Suddenly his eyelashes fluttered open, his eyes meeting mine and he winked at me, biting his lips when his hips rolled pushing himself into my hand, “Jesus.” He whispered, and the tent in the boxers was now bigger, feeling heavier in my hands. He pulled my hand away, kissing me fully and hungrily, my hands roaming his back, while his were firmly planted on my jaw. My hips rolling out of instinct, a soft moan ripping from his throat.

“I need you.” I whispered against his skin, His lips going to my neck.

“You’ve got me.” His hand left my jaw, going back to my shirt, pulling it from my body. He watched me, shirtless, nothing but my silk skirt left, on his lap. His eyes filled thickly with lust. “Take what you want.” I didn’t need any more, My hand went to his pants again, pulling the boxers down. I stared at him he was definitely bigger, longer, thicker than my last, well my last before him. My hand already around his length, my thumb swiping over his tip to collect the liquid that had gathered there.

It was now or never. Now was the time I was going to have sex with Jude Hastings, sober… Or mostly sober, the boy I’d fallen so helplessly in love with during my childhood. My best-friend till we started middle school, and now my… friend?

It was fine though, He was now only a friend to me too… We were friends? Enemies? Frienamies. Frienamies who were about to have sex… Sex Frienamies…

“Darcy… You gotta do something honeybird,” He whispered, pulling my lips to his. I knew he was right, and before I knew it I was lifting up a little, hovering over him. It was as if Jude could sense how nervous I was, about what was going to happen as he placed his hands on my hips, encouraging me, lowering me down on him. Jesus, fuck… This hurt. “Darcy.” But hearing Jude Hastings moan my name did something to me. Elicited something primal in me, something I didn’t know existed… Suddenly I didn’t care about the pain anymore, All I was sure about was I wanted to hear Jude moan my name again. My hands gripped onto his shoulders digging in as I began to roll my hips into his, Feeling him inside, hitting me in all the places no one else ever had… No one else could like him.

“Hastings.” I whimpered. He looked up from where our bodies met, his hands holding tightly onto my hips. He moaned loudly, God I don’t think I’d ever heard anything more attractive. His fingertips dug into my hips as he began to thrust his own hips upwards. “Jude.” Another strained whimper. “I need…” I closed my eyes, I couldn’t keep this up. It was too much. “I can’t.”

“I know.” He whispered. Lips meeting mine as I fell forward into him. Jude lifted us, rolling us over so I was under him now. His jeans had fallen down his legs and pooled at his ankles. “God, you feel incredible.” He whispered, pushing my hair away from my face as his hips rolled into me. “Even better than last night.” It was slow this time, both of us leaving feathery touches on the other’s body and kissing as if it was the last day we had on earth, and this was how we wanted to go out.

To be fair, if I was going to go out… This would be the way I’d want to spend my last day.

“Oh god.” I moaned loudly when he started going faster, One of my legs hooking around his waist the other bent at the knee, as he hit harder, deeper. One of my arms hooked around his shoulder, pressing his body to mine in a desperate attempt to have him as close as possible. I started to suck a mark on his shoulder, wanting to drown the moans that threatened to come out.

“Don’t think about it.” He demanded already seeming to know where my mind was drifting too, “Just think about right now, think about me.” He whispered lips attaching to my neck, his hips moving harder and making me forget everything I had in my mind, every fear I had about what would come next. What would happen once this was over. The only thing I could think about after was him, his name falling from my lips. “Just think about how good this feels, how right this feels.” He moaned when I started clenching around him, nails scratching his back roughly. “Let go.” I couldn’t stop or command my body to stop doing it, all it could manage to do was shake and quiver as a billion and one small bubbles of pleasure burst inside of me. I kissed him eagerly, the low grunt and the curse he let go when he reached his high, enough to make me want him all over again. “Fuck.” He whispered his body slowing. Jude tossed his head back, moaning once more as he came down from his high, his hand clinched at my hip until he relaxed, falling down on top of me his lips going to my forehead in a splatter of kisses.

#dylan o'brian imagine #dylan o'brien #Dylan O'brien smut #calahan skogman #Harry Styles #harry styles imagine #George mackay #Ben Hardy #Ben Hardy Smut #George Mackay Smut #Ben Hardy Imagine

[hiyadarlingirl]

Hi my beautiful children, I miss writing and want to start a new series. I would love to know what you’d be interested in reading:

1. A slow burn between Timothee and reader

2. A love triangle between Timothee, Zendaya and Tom

3. A slow burn between Timothee and Zendaya

4. A Slow burn between Timothee and Florence Pugh

5. A friends to lovers between Saorise Ronan and Timothee

if you have other ideas please let me know!

would love to interact with you guys again

Taglist: @fics-for-my-heart ,  @about-aphrodite, @juliettaylor , @roger-taylor-owns-my-wigg, @rogerrrinaaa, @mercuriangel, @daarkdreamy, @fortuneboldlyfavors, @int0-your-eyes, @fanficsupporter, @bulsaratheopera, @sleeping-bobcat, @bensroger, @katexxr, @whitequeenwalks, @rogahtaylahthedrumah, @reheadyfreheady, @roger-taylor-stole-my-heart, @imsusx, @rebelrebelyourefaceisamess, @hollyskinnerxx, @blissfully-queen, @seasexnsun,  @killerrogerina, @ben-freaking-hardy,  @moonlightsolo, @milkshakelol,   @bismillah-nooo, @mrswinterhater, @istill-loveyou39, @somefanfic-to-love, @doing-allright, @rogerseyeliner, @happy-at-home, @mmxx-whnvr,

@gotafeelfor-myautomobile, @disn3yfreak, @old-fashioned-roger-boy, @onceuponathreetwoone, @discretesinning, @bunhardy, @drummerqueenrmt, @simplyvictoria-93, @katiesobsession, @katiekitty261, @mcrmarvelloki, @omgrogertaylor, @annie-appreciation, @melisa-may-taylor72, @queen-puppycophine @lobsterlemons, @lap-of-the-gods, @justanewqueensfan, @jaiuneamesolitaiire, @stars-a-stripes, @the-summer-of-39, @derwentvalley, @incorrcctqueen, @glitterdreamsz, @omgellenlouise, @slutforrogertaylorandothers, @b-hardys, @youshouldlovefashion, @rogerinascigarette, @jennyggggrrr, @radioblahblahh, @iwantsomealonetime, @rogersbabyyy, @works-of-fanfiction, @hystericalqueenstan, @itsametaph0rbrian, @brian-roger-deaky-and-fred, @fallinginlovewithwhereyouare, @bloodycorpsess

@sweetdaisyshop-blog, @bellamy-barnes, @secretsweetscollectionblog, @culturefiendtrashqueen, @vee-ndetta, @a-time-for-legends, @queen-bunnyears, @thetinyfiore @langcvn @moggy-k @avenging-fandoms @filcheswife @bangtansighs @simpery

#timothee chalamet #zendaya #timothee x reader #timothee chalamet x reader #timmy x reader #timothee x y/n #timothee x armie

[georgemackayhey]

Silver Lining: Chapter 5

In which you and George decide to make the most of life after meeting up at the wrong place at just the right time…

w/c: 6k

a/n: Welcome to the end! This has been such a fun story to tell. I hope you've all enjoyed it! I'm so beyond grateful for all the nice comments and reblogs and asks. I've got blurbs and another series in the works, but please feel free to come talk about this one! I'm just not ready to say goodbye to these characters! ♡

taglist: @etherealallure​ @maria-josefin​ @shelbygirlsclubx​ @loulouloueh​ @clarkewithameme​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @weyheyavengers​ @queen-bunnyears​

<Last Chapter Masterlist>

───※ ·❆· ※───

George was happily occupied, his silhouette comfy on the small balcony, the sun highlighting the pages of the book in his hands. You quietly tiptoed to the bathroom, not bothering to turn on the light, letting the glow from the window be enough while you filled up the tub and eased into the warm bath.

You felt bad, but it wasn't from the hangover.

You felt bad for ruining Aureos night. You even felt bad as you formed some sorry text, asking the guy for another hang to make up for the last one you forced to an early end.

But you felt worst of all for dragging George through the aftermath of your shitty breakup.

When this was all over, he'd go back home, back to whatever movie set or red carpet he had lined up next. And his acquaintance would be fondly remembered as a balm to your heartache. But as you tried to outrun the anguish of being cheated on, a different worry seemed to take over your world.

Now you feared you'd never get to that place again. That you'd never get to plan a future with someone. You were terrified of how badly you wanted a future, and how badly you'd miss George, no matter what happened next.

When all your worries threatened to drown you, you hurried to get cleaned up, determined to make the most of the last few days in Spain.

When you rushed out of the bathroom to find George, he was right where you remembered him to be earlier.

He gazed up at you with a hint of worry in his eye, probably because of your sudden breathless appearance in the open doorway of the balcony.

"What do you want to do today?" You asked.

"Don't we have something-"

"No, what do you want to do?" You stressed. You didn't care what you had all planned out. Nothing ever seemed to go according to your plans, anyway.

And after a little bit more convincing, you got George to lead the way. You didn't even ask where you were going. While you strolled into the city, you wondered if George even had a plan. He walked slowly and shared easy conversation. And every now and again, he'd turn an odd corner or look up and around like he'd just realized where he was.

Eventually, you ended up in a park, or a garden, or some kind of nature trail you hadn't been paying much attention. You stepped over fallen branches, swept your hand over a row of flowers as you passed, but kept your undivided attention on George as he spoke. Though the weather was perfect and the sights were new and exciting, you couldn't look away from the man at your side. You could come back to Barcelona any old time, but you hated to accept your days with George were numbered.

You wound up against the trunk of a tree, watching families and hikers stroll past while the sun shone down in spots through the treetops. You could see the trail winding down a rolling hill, and the pepperings of the city and its buildings start to pop up on the horizon. And while you accounted for your surroundings you soaked up George's voice, and listened to the things he said as if he might be gone when you woke up tomorrow.

And then you talked, and George listened, looking at you like he did. Like he'd looked at all the paintings at the Vatican. Like he really wanted to know what you were about. You tried to ignore how sad his gaze made you feel, and appreciated that you'd made such a valuable connection before all of this inevitably ended back at your hometown airport.

You brushed a fallen leaf from George's shoulder, and he grinned at you in a way that made you retract back; spooked by how you recognized the expression, how familiar sitting with him had become.

George asked if you were okay, and you quickly thought to blame your nervous demeanor for how poorly you felt about last night. How things ended with Aureo, and how you'd texted him early this morning in hopes that he'd give you a second chance.

"He texted me back, an hour ago. So I'll have to meet up with him later." You rambled, avoiding George's burning gaze.

"If you feel like you have to... then don't. But if you want..."

"Yeah. I want." You decide through a sigh, pulling your phone into view, punching out a response to Aureo that let him know our plans were on.

George remained quietly glancing toward the city on the horizon, listening to families laugh together as they drifted passed. When you finished your text, you stood to your feet to make the most of the rest of your time with George.

"Come on let's go get gelato." You extended a hand to help him up from against the tree. George smiled up at you, an expression that wasn't hard to understand. You laughed together all the way back down the trail, and into the city.

When you go there, people of all kinds were buzzing about, setting up makeshift markets and dancing to music crackling from speakers above shop windows.

George lost himself to a conversation with a street vendor about a row of old records they were selling. You left him there to cross the cobblestone with your eye on a food truck. You ordered gelato as you promised, guessing what to order for George based on your late-night debates on what the best ice cream flavors were.

You handed your card to the man behind the window, while you let the wind blow your hair back, soaking up the bright smiles on every passerby's face.

"I'm sorry, miss, this card, it's being declined." The vendor frowned as if it were his fault. He opted to try again before you had the chance to apologize yourself and suggest the same thing.

It was the only card you had, and you'd made sure it was more than equipped to handle your big trip. But alas, the vendor handed it back with a long face and you had to shell out some of the last euros you had on hand.

You reported back to George with gelato, breezed over your predicament, and moved on to giggling over a story George told about an ice cream truck-related injury. He informed you'd gotten his order perfectly right, it was a flavor he'd never pick on his own but ended up loving. All the while you ended up strolling back toward your hotel, but opted not to head in just yet. The wind had picked up a bit, and most of the beachgoers outside your resort had called it a day.

You walked along the in coming tide with George, stopping every few feet to pick up a shell or look out to the ocean as it roared in time with the wind. And for as much conversation as you'd been having, the two of you never ran out of topics to ramble over. You laughed and listened and talked about things you'd forgotten about, things you always wondered.

All topics except one. George looked at you with those eyes bluer than the ocean, something unspoken behind his gaze. At first, you thought you'd understood that look. But it'd morphed into something so complex that you couldn't figure out what the look was supposed to mean. All you knew was that every time he cast you that one certain gaze, you felt right at home. You'd gotten used to it. You expected it. You anticipated that look and feared for the day you'd never see it again.

You sent George to collect your shoes from the place you hid them under a pier, when your phone buzzed in your pocket. You stayed lingering near a bed of grass, hoping after you'd taken a beat to acknowledge all the notifications coming in, that you could go about the rest of your day.

They were all from your bank. A pit opened in your stomach when you scrolled through all your recent transactions, none of them made by you. All of them from the resort you were meant to stay at all along.

Colin had maxed out your card on room service and bar drinks and expensive film channels and God knows what else.

Before you could call your bank, you dialed in Colin's number.

"Why would you do this?" You begged to know after he greeted your call like he'd been expecting to hear from you.

Colin started in on calling you names and boasting about how his payback seemed to work. He was trying to get back at you for leaving all the canceled wedding costs in his lap. But he cheated on you. He ruined all of this. Yet, he couldn't seem to stop making your life hell. You shouted at him, begging for a truce. Pleading for your interactions to be over, to never see a trace of him again.

That's when you spotted George trekking through the sand with his of pair shoes and yours in either of his hands.

Colin made life hard and maybe he always would. George made life easy, and you were really scared that he wouldn't be around to help you see the bright side for much longer. You always figured you'd fly home and go your separate ways. But now that same thought made you want to cry.

You ended your phone call with Colin in a huff, scrambling to find every bit of composure as George approached you, wearing a look that seemed to ask what the matter was.

"God, this is so stupid." You warned, glancing up to George as he stood, ready to listen.

"Colin maxed out my bank account. Luckily our tickets home are already paid for." You let out a laugh but none of this was funny. "And it's nearly five. I promised Aureo I'd meet him round six. So I better go pull myself together."

You sucked in a breath and turned to do just that. George looked at you like there were too many things he wanted to say, but couldn't choose one from the other, so he just followed along.

___

You got ready with time to spare, putting on your best outfit, fixing your hair just right. For some reason, this date felt paramount. Like making things right with Aureo was going to help everything else fall in place, bring some kind of balance.

As you collected your bag and started to slowly make your leave, George seemed to be waiting for you in the kitchen, standing a little straighter from his slump against the counter when he noticed you enter. George looked at you with an honest open expression, stitched with a hint of worry. No, not worry, something more complex. A disgruntled, melancholic gaze you couldn't quite place. But then he just said,

"I hope you have a good time."  

And it sounded like he really meant it.

"Me too." You whispered, spinning to leave. That same sinking feeling swallowed you as you marched down the hall away from George. You knew it was because you didn't really want to leave him. But you promised Aureo a good time and damn it, you needed one too.

___

Aureo was confident. He spoke like he was wishing for the things he wanted, demanding they come to life before his eyes. He wanted more. You didn't blame him for dreaming big. Everyone had their ambitions.

Aureo was beautiful, and he must have known it, with the way he flaunted his outfit, rambling about how green and grey were his best colors. You admired the way his emerald eyes bore into yours, undeniably drinking in the sight of you.

After a small introduction to the lower level of his home, you ventured to the back garden. You turned down a smoke, but leaned against the brink of his veranda while he puffed a cigarette, pointing out all the fresh veggies in the small garden he grew, like a proud parent.

And then he led you back inside, his hand traveling to the small of your back as you stepped into his cool home. You settled onto an elegantly patterned sofa as Aureo poured you both a tumbler of dark liquor before joining your side.

You kept hold of the glass in your lap, sickened even by the thought of drinking. Thank God Aureo was too busy talking to notice your disregard for the beverage. He asked your own answers too, watching your lips as you spoke. And before too long, he leaned in for a kiss.

You knew it was inevitable. You knew this was why you'd come here. So you let him kiss you, and you kissed him back, hoping the more desperately you gave in to his advances, that you would feel something. But you didn't feel what you were supposed to when kissing someone. You weren't expecting fireworks. But a warm buzz would have been nice. To make matters worse, no; to make matters absolutely inadequate, you couldn't stop thinking of George.

Had he gone out? What was he thinking? What would he say when you got back? What if he kissed you like this?

"Wait." You breathed, sitting back.

"Are you alright?" Aureo asked, watching you lean way from him.

"Actually..." You bit your lip, glancing around the well-decorated room. You realizing you couldn't stay here. When you looked back to Aureo, he actually looked sad. Not just disappointed. Actually sad. You slumped forward, searching his eyes when he brought a gentle hand to your face.

"I'm so sorry." You meant, hoping he knew you did. "But I... I think I'd better go."

Aureo took a beat to wait for you to explain why, or say anything else at all. But you didn't. You couldn't.

"Okay." He nodded acceptingly, nudging you to stand with him.

The guy called you an Uber and refused your persistent offers to pay him back. When your ride came, you and the guy you'd met days ago shared a kiss on the cheek and a whispered goodbye. And it was almost sweet enough to make you think of staying a little longer.

But still, thoughts of George burned closer to the forefront of your mind, and you kept walking down the gravel driveway. You dared to steal one last glance over your shoulder, finding Aureo leaning against his doorway, giving you a sorry wave. The sight was almost somber enough to get you to spin on your heels and make it up to him. But you just opened the Uber door.

You realized how when you'd felt like saying goodbye to George you'd only wanted to kiss him. You realized you were relieved when he didn't meet up with Renee because you were used to having him all to yourself. You realized you wanted to keep it that way. You had been trying to push theses feelings deep down, but you had absolutely nothing left to lose at this point. You'd been drunk a lot on this trip, but you'd never felt braver than right now...

When you unlocked the hotel room door, you chanted silent prayers that George would be around. If you had to wait until tomorrow, you wouldn't be able to say what you had the guts to, right now.  You didn't waste a beat as you marched straight toward the halfway shut door of the room George had been occupying. A soft light shone from inside.

You halted after pushing past the door, making your presence known. George was kicked back on his bed, reading, and he didn't seem a bit surprised to see you here and now.

"Okay. I have nothing left to lose. So I'm gonna say what I have to say. I didn't hook up with Aureo. I left.  Because the whole time he touched me I was only thinking of you. Maybe that's fucked up but that's just the truth."

George listened from behind the crinkled pages of "A Perfect Day For Bananafish" keeping that frighteningly calm gaze on you, while you spilled your guts.

"So... so unless I've been misreading the dozens of signs, I think it's safe to gather that you'd like to kiss me. And if that's true, you should do it. Right now." You stated in one nervous breathe, frustrated by all the lingering gazes, little touches, and thoughts that had never been acted upon.

"No," George hesitated but demanded all at once, in the fabulously complex manner of his. He shut the book in his lap and moved slowly to the edge of the bed to stand, keeping an eye on you as you went on,

"You said I was perfectly kissable! And no one has ever looked at me like you keep looking at me. Even right now." Your throat grew tight as you addressed the expression on George's face. Why was he moving to stand so close to you if he didn't want to kiss you? For the first time, you saw a faint chip in the resolve of his usual composure. George's eyes grew full as he spoke in a voice thick with feeling,

"Because I don't want to be your rebound!"

"Well, what if you weren't!" There was no need to hide the way your tears bubbled over as you gaped at him. It was the only way you could get George to understand how you really felt. How you weren't playing devil's advocate. How this wasn't your usual banter. Your heart was on the line.

"Don't talk like that-" George looked afraid, like if you said something just right three times in a row it'd appear and he'd have no choice but to give in to the spell. You had a shred of bravery left in your throat and breathed out every word you could manage before the strength fizzled away.

"George! I like you! I liked you from the moment we got on the plane. I liked you in the Sistine Chapel. I like you now, and I don't see a way out of it and I don't want a way out of it- I want you to kiss me. I want to fly back home with you because I'll still like you when we get there."

George was slack-jawed, mystified by your monologue, and as soon as the words stopped coming, the vice around your throat tightened and your tears poured out all the emotion you'd been building up, but could no longer speak. You cried into your hands, feeling sorry for how pathetic you were, and sorry for thinking up this dumb idea to invite George along in the first place.

You could hardly breathe as you felt George's strong arms wrap around you. One secured around your middle, the other across your shoulder, totally encapsulating you. As much as it was a relief to have him so near, his closeness broke your heart all the same. You cried onto his nightshirt and clung to the collar, knowing full well you would have to apologize for all this later but grateful for the compassion he chose to show now.

He didn't speak as you managed your cries, he just held on to you for dear life. When you were reduced to sniffles, George pulled away, his deep blue eyes catching yours. He didn't speak then either. He just brushed a stray tear from your cheek and searched your features as you hoped and prayed you didn't look half as pathetic as you felt.

And right when enough time had passed for you to feel like speaking up, George gently pulled you across the room. He wordlessly pushed you toward the bed back against the mess of pillows and switched out the light. He then made his way round to the other side and met you in the middle.

The usual sliver of space between you and George was forgotten, as he settled right next to you. And without saying anything, he pressed a very soft kiss to the side of your face. George's lips lingered against your temple, for a beat longer than you'd expected, and with each passing nanosecond, your heartbeat stuttered between speeding up and sinking to the floor.

When George pulled your head to rest on his shoulder and kept a warm strong hand rested at the base of your neck, you could have cried again. But you knew better than to ruin the moment, and relaxed your frame against his, drifting to sleep.

___

You woke up to the sound of crashing waves and hollers from beachgoers off in the distance. You were in a big, empty bed, delicately tucked beneath covers you never remembered reaching for. When you registered George's absence, you took a moment to recall everything that happened last night.

How Colin had taken one last petty shot at getting a rise out of you. How you tried to give in to Aureo, and how the night ended without much of a bang. How you crashed into George's room, babbling confessions, all of them falling flat at your feet even though George was kind enough to pull you close, even just for a moment.

You heaved a heavy sigh, pushing yourself from the bed that wasn't yours, and slipping into the bathroom unnoticed. You brushed your teeth, and tightened the sheer cardigan around you that was meant to cover your skimpy outfit meant for last night, that you didn't even give a damn about anymore.

You found George happily humming away in the kitchen, making breakfast with some ingredients you'd picked up from La Boqueria days before.

You planned to silently sulk across the way to your room, but George stopped you, turning from the stove like a worried mother, informing he was making the best breakfast of his life and you'd be a fool to miss out. You knew that.

"I'm not hungry." 

You were embarrassed. You floated away from the kitchen to your bedroom, wondering if you should start to pack your things. You hadn't expected the trip to be perfect, but you'd hardly prepared for it to go as wrong as it had.

You gathered a handful of discarded dresses, turning to find your suitcase, when you heard George ease into the room.

"What are you doing?"  He asked in a hush.

"Packing." George stepped closer, halting in front of you. He looked right at you while he took the dresses from your grasp, discarding them on the floor. Funny, you finally got him to throw your clothes somewhere behind you. He was wearing that look again, the one that made your heart speed up and the world slow down all at once.

"I shouldn't have said anything at all last night, let alone freaked out. I'm sorry." You shied away from his gaze, feeling like a little girl. George let you but slowly moved to see your face once more.

"I'm sorry. I was afraid you were just... I don't know... not thinking clearly."

"Why are you sorry? I wasn't drunk, George. I was just being honest." You look down, feeling sick about how vulnerable you'd been. You sucked in a breath as you moved away in a daze, heading toward the desk where your suitcase was nestled in the corner. You couldn't think with George looming over you with his sleep tangled hair and intense expressions.

As you traced your fingers along the grain of the desk you gazed out of the window to a palm tree that covered much of the view of the beach.

"Y/n..." 

George's voice crept up the back of your spine. You turned from the desk, gripping the edge for security as George came to face you again. 

How had you ended up here? Thoughts flickered into your head but flickered away when George locked his dazzling blue eyes with yours. He placed either of his hands on the side of the desk just beside where yours found real estate. George was eye level with you now and he was searching your face with his starry eyes that were closer than ever. And slow, like sunrise, he leaned in closer.

George pressed his lips against yours as slowly and sweetly as he'd kissed your temple last night. Before you could lose yourself to the feeling, you rose a hand to George's chest and held it there, so he hesitantly pulled away.

"Please don't kiss me just because I asked you too." You sighed, eyes still screwed shut. You could have done that one thousand more times, but not out of pity. When you dared to open your eyes, you found George patiently waiting to meet your gaze.

"I wanted to." George spoke, softly. "I've wanted to kiss you like that since you freaked out on the plane to Rome. I wanted to kiss you at all those museums and every time you've told a lame joke since then. And I'll still want to kiss you when we get back home. I like you, too."

George echoed your monologue from the night before, with his own twist. His voice was low and gentle but full of assuredness. His eyes stayed glued on yours while your heart threatened to beat out of your chest as he went on speaking. And when he was finished, you just stood there, gaping at him. Trying to wrap your head around his words and the action preceded them.

George looked at you in that way he did. In that way no one ever had before.

Lifting his hand toward your face, he slowly trailed a finger across your jaw, letting his thumb land on your chin. Your lips subtly parted, and George fixed his gaze on your mouth as a smirk bloomed across his. Then, he leaned in to kiss you again. But this time was very different. Your mouths opened against each other's and your fingers unlatched from their grip on the table behind you.

Your fingers curled around his neck as George let his fingers slowly creep down your sides, until they reached your hips. Without breaking the kiss, he shifted you onto the desk you leaned against, closing the gap between the two of you. It was a gesture you'd been dreaming of that was far more electric than your imagination made it out to be.

"I'm sorry it took me till now to do this." George breathed, his lips brushing against yours not daring to miss a second of contact.

"Better late than never, huh?" You grinned, nudging your nose against George and looking up into his pretty eyes.

"That's the spirit." He chuckled softly, barely finishing the sentence before his lips were on yours again. One of his hands stayed pressed against your back, assuring you were held against him, while his other tangled in your hair.  George kissed you in a way that made you wonder what you'd been doing till now.

"I never dreamed you'd wanted more than wreckless fun." George spoke, as he trailed his kisses down your neck. And though you weren't too keen to stop his actions, his words held more of an impact.

You grabbed a handful of George's golden hair and pulled to make his eyes look right in yours.

"I do want to have wreckless fun. With you. For a long, long time." You confessed. No more secretly longing gazes and careful touches, hoping your multitude of feelings might have been conveyed.  

"So back to London together it is then, yeah?" George picked you up from the desk with a cheeky grin.

"Just long enough to plan our next adventure." You suggested through a giggling as he tossed you onto the bed you'd been occupying.

George smiled the loveliest smile you'd ever seen as he crawled over the top of you and reached for the string that tied your coverup together.

"Shall we pick up where we left off then?" George leaned in to purr in your ear, letting his fingers trail across your thigh.  

How was something so new and exciting so familiar? You decided not to think about it, and dove back in for another kiss.

___

That's how you spent the rest of the day and the entire night, never too far from right beside George. As your reality settled into the daydream scenario you never expected to come true, you found nothing much had really changed.

You'd spent this whole trip together, consulting over the best wine to order over dinner and arguing over what the best tv show of all time was. So while spending a day in bed at George's side left you starry-eyed, his company was familiar. And that was the best part of all.

You went on, making each other laugh like normal. Sharing old forgotten stories and thinking up new ones. George listened, as you whispered into the late, late night, like kids at a slumber party.

Waking up to his limbs pinning you lazily to the mattress even felt familiar, like something you should have been used to for a while now.

And reluctant as you both were to come out from under the sheets, it was your last full day in Barcelona. So after some careful consideration over breakfast coffee, you and George picked a handful of things to do from the list you'd created months in advance.

The first stop was lunch. You would miss the food in Spain most of all. You even took a few photos of the beautifully plated tapas you'd ordered and posted it to Instagram right away, using some over the top caption and everything.

After a frustrating morning chat, your bank informed you that it would be a few business days until your account was all sorted out. So, because of that and the fact that you only had a few euros left, you let George pay for lunch, who acted as if his evil plan had come to fruition. He'd hadn't stopped trying to cover bills since the first night in Rome.

Then you proceeded to muck about the city like kids on a residential trip. You went from hilltops to fountains to a couple of markets you'd been to before, marveling over all the sights and sounds of the city. You took more photos during the afternoon romp through the city than you had the whole trip. You sent some straight to Instagram and some to your mother. But mostly, you tossed your phone right back in your bag so you could turn your attention to George. To focus on the way his smile grew while he spoke, before laughing too hard to finish his sentence. To revel in the feeling of his hand holding yours. Feeling a little luckier every time he stole a kiss in quiet parts of art galleries and around city street corners.

He eventually coaxed you into a big fancy dinner you absolutely couldn't afford, taking a long way there to enjoy the last purply golden sunset in Barcelona. The sun beamed across streets, like it didn't dare go down without a fight. In between a designer clothing shop and another row of businesses covered in blossoming vines, George stalled, turning to face you.

"Stay right here." He held your shoulders in place nodding before rushing out of view. You laughed to yourself, standing in the place you'd been made to. Before you could get lost in thoughts of how lucky this trip turned out to be, George came back around the corner with two strangers in tow.

He enlisted them to take a photo of the two of you together, George explaining that the one from outside the museums in Rome wasn't enough. You handed your phone to the older gentleman George had roped into being your photographer while his wife stood looking at a map, glancing up to smile at you all every now and again. George wasn't even looking toward the camera when it came time to.  

The old man took surprisingly good snapshots, you found, after thanking him for taking a minute to indulge George. He really was hard to say no to. There were four photos, each great from the start, better than the last. They featured George with one arm loosely wrapped around you, his focus on you entirely. You tried, but clearly couldn't quite look at the camera either, with the way George’s smile drew you in. They weren't quite candid, with the way George must have planned to be so engrossed by you.

"These are the best so far." You hummed, scrolling to admire them each.

"I have no idea if they're Instagram worthy or not, but I like them very much."

"Oh, Insta would eat these up." You laughed, but you really do mean it. They were perfectly rose-colored on their own, no filter needed. After tossing your phone away, you'd started your walk back up, the big fancy restaurant you'd choosen for dinner coming into view in the horizon.

"Then you should post them," George said, keeping his pace in time with yours, nearly to the doors of the last stop on your getaway. You figured you'd be sad when the night wound to an end. But something magnificent burned below the surface, a promise that this was only the beginning of better days.

"Are you sure? You wouldn't mind?" You asked cautiously. George had steered clear of social media for a reason. Posting something that so blatantly put George on display seemed sinful, especially regarding the photos in question; with the way you were attached to his hip. Posting those was a very big deal for a multitude of reasons.

"Well someone's gotta get the word out that we're a packaged deal now, and I'm not very well equipped. I could phone the paparazzi, since I'm so bloody famous and all, but I'd rather not." George boasted, climbing the steps of the big fancy restaurant with a coy grin on his pretty face.

"Wow. You really are lame." You joked, nudging his shoulder with yours as you passed through the golden entryway.

After you ordered meals, you opened your favorite application and fretted over a caption for the photos you were about to post. The photos of you and George bathed in the setting sunlight, your smiles somehow the brighter.

George helped, well, he made you laugh. And after tossing out a dozen ridiculous quips, you decided to keep all your best one-liners and let the photos speak for themselves. And on the walk back to the hotel you phoned your mother to save her from having a cow when you showed up at the airport with George still by your side.

Because it had been settled, over late-night conversation that slipped into a recurring topic during the day. George would come home with you. He kept saying something about not wanting to waste another secomd sitting far apart in the same room. He kept saying how lucky he felt to have you, how he'd always hoped the outcome of your acquaintance would blossom into something more. How he felt like he'd been waiting for you longer than he knew your name.

George rambled about his future. About some of the films, he was up for. How far away he'd be for some of them. He asked you to join him. To stay for a while, wherever he ended up. How he wanted you to be a part of his life.

You agreed without having to think too much about it. You always wanted someone to see the world with. You always wanted to greet someone at the end of long days. You couldn't see your future without George. You could hardly remember how you managed life before him, anyway.

On the plane back home, you were both too busy dreaming up your lives together to freak out when the ride rocketed into the sky. You watched the same movie and got shushed by the same businessman when your laughter got too loud.

And when you sleepily lingered at the baggage claim with your head rested on George's shoulder, nothing felt new and exciting. It felt normal and right.

And when you spotted your mother waiting for you in the pickup area, she was all smiles. You hadn't expected her to freak out, but you were a little nervous that she'd make much too big of a deal about who you were bringing home. But she looked calm, content even, when she reached out to greet you with a hug.

"Mom, this is George." You turned to the man in question, watching his ocean eyes linger on you for a beat as his grin stretched into a smile.

"I know." Your mother smiled too, then turned to him, reaching out for a hug. "I've read all about you in the papers and things." She chuckled just as George happily hugged her back.

You and George both threw your heads back in a shared bout of laughter. Your mother worried that she'd said something wrong, but you just assured her that George was even better in real life than all his charming interviews.

On the ride home, you fill her in on some of the details of your wild trip. George did too, and when he spoke you could tell your mother started to understand what you said at the airport. How George's complex expressions and soft-spoken manner weren't something you could properly capture on a morning talk show. How his presence seemed magical. How whatever you might expect him to say was never what you got, but better.

He made everything better. Even the things you couldn't seem to find the good parts of. Even the demolished bits of planning that remained of what was meant to be your honeymoon. 

You found out that everything happened how it was supposed to. Even though going home to what you left behind seemed daunting and dense with negativity, there was a bright shining silver lining beaming from the smile George wore when you made him laugh over and over on the way home, together.

───※ ·❆· ※───

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #george mackay imagine #george mackay fanfic

[bluesfortheredj]

A Beautiful Mistake Pt. 16

A/N: Sorry for the inexcusable wait. If you’re still following this then you’re amazing.

Was this all your fault? Would Redwick have such a vendetta against James if you hadn’t left him, or would he have had the same irrational hatred for you as well? You’d never know now and you couldn’t dwell on it as you stood peeking through the small gap in your curtain, trying to see if James was on his way or not.

“Any sign?” Samuel asks as he walks into the bedroom with a worried look upon his face.

“Not yet,” you sigh, gently tilting your head until it rests against the wall.

He moves to your side and places one hand on the small of your back while the other comes to a gentle stop on your small bump, then he presses a kiss against the side of your head as you now lean into his body, and you take a deep breath at the comforting feel of his arms around you.

“Maybe Verity hasn’t had a chance to-” Samuel begins, but cut off by a quick knock at the door before it opens and James appears just beyond the doorway to your bedroom.

You stand upright with a start and Samuel follows only a step behind you as you make your way towards James when he shuts the door quietly, and there’s an awkward moment as you stare silently at one another; him already noticing a change in your face from your pregnancy.

“You look different,” he mumbles.

“I...”

“She’s unwell, Redwick has put her under unnecessary pressure recently, and it’s why we’ve called you over,” Samuel interrupts as he moves to stand in front of you, “I need to go to Yeardley in the morning and tell him everything we know about you and the man you hired to attack (Y/N). Redwick will make sure you’re not hanged for your crime, but the safety of our family depends on this, and you are not standing in the way of me protecting them.”

James nods before leaning to the side to see your frightened face behind Samuel’s protective body, and his eyes travel down to your stomach as he realises why you look so different this evening.

“You’re with child?” he asks, looking directly into your eyes.

“I am,” you nod, “and we cannot let our child become property of the people of Jamestown.”

“I understand,” James sighs, “you’re a decent man for letting me know Samuel.”

“Decency has nothing to do with it, it was (Y/N) who wanted to warn you of what was to come even though this act is dangerous in itself,” Samuel states, “I will go to the Governor first thing, so be prepared.”

“Will do,” he nods, “thank you.”

James leaves as quickly as he came in and you take a seat on the chair with an audible huff as you dress puffs up around your legs, then Samuel kneels in front of you to take your hands in his.

“I promise everything will be okay,” he says as his eyes bore into yours.

A non-committal hum is your only reply to him as you wonder who else in the settlement could be carrying a child and whether they would hopefully give birth before you do, as the thought of having little control over your baby churns you up inside, and tears prick your eyes as you meet Samuel’s intense gaze.

“What is it?” he questions.

“I’m scared Samuel, if the Governor’s wife finds out our news then I fear that we won’t even be able to name our own child. It’s bad enough thinking that everyone is against us being together anyway.”

“That will not happen,” he replies sternly, “I simply won’t allow it.”

The two of you go to bed together but after a short sleep next to Samuel you find yourself wandering around the house aimlessly as you stroke your aching stomach with care, unsure of whether to go and wake the doctor or wait until the settlement begins to stir. Mercy finds you first thing in the morning as you swing back and forth in the rocking chair, and she rushes to your side, knowing that something was wrong.

“Mistress Castell,” she gasps, “my, you look ever so pale!”

“I just didn’t sleep much Mercy,” you smile weakly.

“Shall I get the doctor? Or shall I wake Master Castell? Miss, you do not look well at all,” she worries as her hands shake while she holds one against your forehead to check your temperature.

“What’s all this?” Samuel yawns as he appears from the bedroom.

“Mistress Castell hasn’t slept all night, Sir, and she does not look at all well,” Mercy explains, “she’s so very cold.”

“Mercy, please go and fetch the doctor,” Samuel instructs as he moves towards you and pulls a chair next to yours, “why didn’t you sleep my love?”

“I just didn’t feel tired,” you shrug, “no reason in particular,” you lie as your fingers tighten on top of your stomach.

“As soon as Priestley arrives I will visit Yeardley and get this over and done with, it surely cannot be helping your fragile state,” he frowns, “are you in pain?”

“It’s not a pain, more of an ache...”

“Your stomach?”

“Mhmm.”

Samuel stands in a panic, his hands going straight to his hair as he weaves his fingers through it nervously and his long legs take him from one end of the room to the other as he begins to pace in front of you silently worrying. Priestley soon arrives behind a jittery Mercy and Samuel watches intently as he examines you even though you repeatedly tell him to leave and see Yeardley.

“Master Castell,” Mercy whispers as he begins to pace once more, “I think you’re making Mistress Castell nervous...”

He looks over to your troubled face and he realises he’s not making the already precarious situation any better.

“Come and fetch me from the Governor’s quarters if anything happens,” Samuel instructs quietly.

“Thank you Mercy,” you smile as Samuel leaves as quietly as possible.

“Tell me if I hurt you,” Priestley says as he begins to press firmly around your stomach.

“Ah!” you cry out, and he checks around the area before looking at you with a solemn expression.

“What is it? Is it the baby?” you gasp.

“As far as I can feel the baby is fine, this is your kidney and I believe there are some stones in it if it is causing you this much pain.”

“Well what do I need to take?”

“There’s nothing you can take… But if they increase in size and cause you more pain then you’ll require surgery to remove them.”

“Surgery?” you and Mercy both question at the same time.

“Surgery,” he nods apologetically.

Mercy begins to cry at the thought of it all, and you have to bite back your own tears as you scramble to get up and wrap your arms around her small frame to try and reassure her that everything will turn out for the best, even though you were now suddenly faced with your own mortality and that of your child’s. Christopher squeezes your shoulder as he whispers that he’ll be there if you need him and to check in each week for an examination, then he leaves you both in a tight embrace, the both of you needing as much comfort as the other.

“No!” Samuel gasps when he returns to see you both now crying, “no!”

Mercy pushes you away and towards Samuel to explain, and you have to fight to get your words out properly instead of sobbing.

“Christopher said he believes I have kidney stones… There’s nothing I can take for them, and if they get bigger and cause more pain then they’ll have to come out,” you manage to clarify, “the baby is fine.”

“But for them to come out he’ll have to...” he trails off, knowing exactly what this meant, “oh no, no, I can’t lose-”

He’s cut off by a sob that rocks his body against yours, and you squeeze your eyes shut as you wish that you’d never come out here to Jamestown, to the constant heartache you’d felt here, and the uncertainty of everything, but as Samuel’s arms tighten around you, you know that you would rather spend the rest of your life with him rather than go back on it all, even if it meant that it would be less time than you thought.

@lv7867 @fuckyou-imspiderman @aynsleywalker @timeandpixiedust @captainxholmes @antonomase @queen-bunnyears @leah-halliwell92 @queen-paladin

#samuel castell #samuel castell imagine #samuel castell x reader #jamestown fic #jamestown #gwilym lee

[benhardyisdaddy]

Here With My Friends

MASTERLIST 

BenxReader

Description: a guy gets handsy with you at a bar and Ben notices 

(hiiiiii i finally and starting on my story ideas list again its been forever im so sorry ily all sm and thank you to @idontbelievethiss for the story idea!!!!)

Word Count: 1,396

A celebration was in order for all of the cast members on Bohemian Rhapsody. Filming had just ended and they were all so thrilled to have made such an amazing film. They were exhausted, yet had adrenaline running through them from finishing the last scene. Rami, your best friend, had planned a night out with everyone and you. You were like Rami’s little sister. He had invited you on set so many times, you lost count. You had gotten super close to each member of the cast, except for one with the name of Ben Hardy. Not that he was mean to you, the two of you just never really clicked. Which was ridiculous, seeing as you had the biggest crush on him. The two of you butt heads a lot. If you said the sky was blue, he would argue and say it was red. Silly stuff like that.

But tonight was about all of them and their newfound success with this film. You were so happy and proud for all of them. You were beaming when you entered the pub and glanced around. You spot them instantly at a table near the bar. You slide off your jacket and straighten your shirt. You wanted to dress nice for tonight and were happy with your getup. You catch Rami’s eye and he smiles widely. He throws his hands up and yells loudly. You can tell he’s already drunk. You laugh as you walk up and he engulfs you into a huge hug.

“Y/n’s here!” he shouts.

You can smell the alcohol on him. You laugh against him and lean away to face him.

“Someone’s having fun!” you say back.

His face is flushed as he smiles widely.

“Someone’s just a lightweight.” jokes Lucy, as she walks up and hugs you tightly.

She was another one of your best friends. You met her through Rami and the two of you instantly clicked. She was like the sister you always wanted.

“I can agree with that.” you joke back, causing her to giggle.

Gwil and Joe walk up as they greet you. You hug them both and tell them congratulations for the movie. You glance over to Ben and he’s sipping on a beer. Unlike the rest of them, he’s not drunk. You’re slightly surprised.

“No shots tonight?” you ask him as you walk up.

He raises a brow and shakes his head, taking in a deep breath.

“Nope. You might could use one.” he says, smirking.

You roll your eyes and fake laugh at his failure of a burn. He teasingly smiles to you and you can’t help but smile back. You walk around him as he stares at you intently. You make your way up to the bar and lean against the counter, trying to get the guys attention. He spots you and walks up. You order a few drinks and thank him. You stand there patiently as you wait. You feel a presence next to you and look over. You half expect it to be one of the boys, but it’s not. It’s some tall brunette man who’s smirking down at you. You half smile back and look away, feeling his eyes still on you.

“Alone, are you?” he asks.

You can smell the booze on his breath. You take an awkward step over, not liking how close he was to you.

“Nope.” you say back. “Here with my friends.”

The man continues to look at you and suddenly turns so now he’s facing you.

“Let me buy you a drink.” he says.

“Already got one, but thank you.”

He raises a brow and nods his head. He looks you up and down as you force yourself to focus forward. He gets even closer and lowers his head to your ear. You freeze as every hair on your body stands up. You didn’t appreciate unwanted men who think they can invade your personal space. His breath is warm on your neck and you shudder.

“How about you and I go for a walk maybe?” he asks, smiling.

You look to him fast and make a disgusted face.

“How about leave me alone?” you ask back, moving farther away.

He only scoots closer. You roll your eyes and turn to tell him to fuck off, but you’re cut off as his hand grabs your arm harshly. He looks up to where your friends are and realizes no one is watching you. He pulls you towards him and looks back to the door. You try to free your arm as panic sets in. This man was huge compared to you. You smack at his arm, but it’s no use.

“Not like they’ll miss you.” he says as he takes a step back, with you still in his arm.

“No!” you shout out.

Yeah, he realized that your friends weren’t looking over at you. But Ben was. You punch at his arm again as tears flood in your eyes. You’re shock subsides as you go to scream out Rami’s name, in hopes he can hear you over this music. But before you can, the man is harshly shoved off of you. You grab your arm and rub the sore spot. Tears flood down your cheeks and you’re shaking profusely. You look over to the man and realize it was Ben who had shoved him from you. He now had him pinned against the wall. Ben’s face was bright red as he screamed at him. He leaned the man forward and shoved him harshly into the wall once more.

“Don’t you ever fucking touch her!” he hisses loudly at him.

The man looks terrified as Ben practically shakes with anger. You wrap your arms around yourself as the rest of the gang look over and realize what’s happening. You sob to yourself and just want to leave. Ben then raises his arm back and goes to punch the man.

“Ben!” you cry out.

He’s hears your distressed voice and turns back to look at you quickly. Rami and everyone else are trying to make their way through the crowd to get to you. Ben watches as your scared eyes stare at him, pleading him to help you. He drops his hand and lets go of the man, not taking his eyes off of you. He knew you were terrified and he wanted to comfort you. He runs to you and gently wraps his arms around you. You nuzzle your face into his chest and weep. People around you had seen what happened and they all ganged up on the guy and threw him out. Ben rubbed your back and kissed the top of your head, trying to comfort you.

“You’re alright.” he whispers as he feels you shake. “I’ve got you. You’re alright.”

The rest of the group rush up wide eyed and confused. They look to Ben and he just slowly shakes his head, telling them to not say anything. He had this. They look at you sadly as you sob against him. What had happened was almost traumatizing to you. You lean away and look up to Ben. His big green eyes look worried as he scans over your face. He takes his hand and moves some hair from your eyes. He brushes his thumb over your cheek and wipes away some tears.

“I wanna go home.” you whisper.

He nods quickly and looks back up to the everyone else.

“Alright, yes. I’ll get you a cab-” he goes to say, unsure if he should accompany you or not.

His questions were then answered.

“Will you go with me? I’m too scared to go by myself.”

Ben’s heart swells at your statement and he smiles down to you.

“Of course I’ll go with you. I’ll fight anyone that even looks at you funny.”

You laugh against him which makes him smile. You lean away as he wraps his arm around your shoulders, holding you close to him. He looks back to everyone and nods his head, letting them know you’re okay. The two of you make your way outside and he waves his hand for a cab. You look up to him and stare as he looks around to make sure that guy wasn’t there.

“Thank you.” you say.

He looks down at you fast and gently smiles, pulling you even closer into him.

“Always.”

Tag List: @hystericalroger @tanya-is-dead @queen-bunnyears @haileylansley @dianamarie-has-a-blog @secretsweetscollectionblog @follow-hystericalrogertaylor @queengavemeasheerheartattack @zkarr7 @light-chase

Perm Tag List: @loudxxstar @iambuckyrogers @babebenhardy @seven-seas-of-hi @ramimalekrp-roleplayerpage@mautand @rogertayolr @mothermercuryy @basics-andthesimplelife @caterinaborgia@discodeakyjazzyjoe @sheridans-dynamos @bethany-cc @onexlittlespark @idontbelievethiss@having-a-freddie-time @denimmay @bensrhapsody @manuosorioh @writing-in-hell @cupcakehardy @toms-irish-girl

#benhardyisdaddy #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #benxreader #benhardyxreader #benhardy #benhardy! #benhardyxy/n #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy x y/n #fic #angst #fight #bar #fluff #story idea

[siempre-pedro]

He Makes Me Feel...

Photographer! Gwilym Lee x Plus Size!Reader

Request:  Hi! For your prompts, perhaps a photographer!AU?I can see Gwilym or Roger as a photographer, and you being their model for some dorky lingerie shoots, or some powerwoman photoshoot. Like they would always be super professional, but deep down they really like you and you totally surprise them with how lovely you are - @queen-bunnyears

Summary: Gwil makes you feel all sorts of things during a photoshoot you were roped in for a friends lingerie line. 

A/N: I tweaked this a little, I hope you don’t mind!

Send In AU Prompts

Be a model she said, be proud of your body she also said, I need your help she begged. Here you are in a lacey pink lingerie set in front of the hottest man you’d ever met and your best friend giving you a thumbs up from behind him and your curvy body on full display. This was all her and her stupid lingerie companies fault. Your best friend was putting out a small collection of cute lingerie and you just so happen to be her first choice for a plus model. But you were no model. 

You felt awkward the whole time, the handsome photographer Gwilym was helping you along the way. He was a beautiful man with brown hair and striking blue eyes and that smile, that smile every time he took a photo made you feel slightly better about the situation you were in. He was very nice and never once made you feel sleazy or self-conscious of the barely-there clothing but you couldn’t put an emotion on how he made you feel. 

“Let’s take five!” Amy shouts. Thank God! You quickly get off the bed and grab the fluffy white robe, wrapping yourself in it like your life depended on it. As you made your way to the coffee machine Gwil calls for you. 

“Y/N?” he asks, getting your attention. You look up at him with hopeful eyes and look up at him “Do you mind if I show you a couple of these?” he questions, holding up his camera. All you could see was a blob on the tiny screen and it made you uneasy but you agreed, how could you say no to that smile. 

He stood closely next to you as he flipped through some of the pictures, your eyes only looking at the photos for a brief moment, too embarrassed of your own figure “This one is my favorite, I-I like it when you smile.” 

“But I have rolls,” you grimace noticing the roll on your side. Gwil looks down at you sternly and takes in a deep breath before returning his gaze to the pictures he was slowly flipping through.

“They’re adorable...you’re stunning. I didn’t want to make things weird by telling you earlier,” he laughs. You look up at him with surprise your hands tucked nicely in the confines of the robe's pockets. 

"Do you say this to all the models?” you ask, mostly playfully. Gwil turns off the camera and starts to walk away, he looks at you with one last caring glare before returning to his laptop. A confident “No,” could be heard from him as he walked. 

You smile to yourself and look at the large monitor, your posed body all over the screen but this time when you looked at them you weren’t disgusted. Your eyes trail back to Gwil and then it hit you. Gwilym made you feel...beautiful.  

#gwilym lee #gwilym lee imagine #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee x you #gwilym lee fluff

[we-rate-warrior-names]

Hello! I have a few names if you don't mind~ ~Bunnyears ~Honeymilk ~Fallingsun ~Pineshiver ~Watervapor ~Sweetthroat ~Rosedust

Bunnyears- A cheerful and observant cat. Bunnyears has particularly great hearing and will often show off their skills. When they aren’t joking or showing off they are keeping a careful ear out for trouble, often volunteering for being on watch as they feel it would be selfish of them not to use their gift to help their clan, 14/10

Honeymilk - A gentle and caring cat. Honeymilk spends more time in the nursery then anywhere else, offering company to the queens and an extra parental influence to the kits. Honeymilk is very popular in their clan and cats will often go to Honeymilk for advice and company, 15/10

Fallingsun - Am optimistic and adventurous cat. Fallingsun always be the first to volunteer for patrols outside the territory, they love exploring new places and trying new things. They will often spend their spare time forming new techniques for the clan to use, they are often pretty complex but work very well, 15/10

Pineshiver - A delicate and cautious cat. Pineshiver always treads carefully, both literally and metaphorically. They will never enter a situation without fully assessing the risks, they are scared of death and will take every measure they can to avoid it, 15/10

Watervapor - A skilled and intelligent cat. This cat can overcome anything life throws at them, the skills and knowledge they have gathered over the moons have left them extremely adaptable, often thinking of simple yet creative solutions for problems, 14/10

Sweetthroat - A cheerful and chatty cat. Sweetthroat will talk your ear off if you let them! But when needed they are also a good listener and when a cat confides them with a problem they will often think of a solution, always thinking their thought process out loud, 13/10

Rosedust - A wise and gentle cat. Rosedust will always be there for a cat in need, regardless of how big or small their problem is. They will do their best to help any cat in need, and they will never push a cat to do anything they don’t want to, 15/10

#bunnyears #honeymilk #fallingsun #pineshiver #watervapor #sweetthroat #rosedust #anonymous #warrior cats

[writingfortoomanyfandoms]

Hi love, the penny for your thoughts series is amazing! I had reading the first chapters on my to do list for ages, and I finally had some time. Jeez its very good. I am curious about her background and everything, and you captured the feel and atmosphere of Hogwarts so well! ♡

Awww this is really lovely of you 😊 I know there wasn’t a chapter out this week (I kinda explained why in my pinned post) but hearing comments like this honestly make my day and like thank you so so much ❤️❤️❤️ I promise imma try and get back to normal by next week 😊🥰

#court talks #asked and answered #queen-bunnyears

[bensroger]

To celebrate 3000 followers (whew) I wanna do a writing challenge! Basically, you write a fic yourself and post it based off of a prompt below!I know there’s a lot of you who want to write or are afraid to post something, so this gives you a reason, plus it’ll be super fun! I really really wanna read what you guys write! Here are the rules and stuff ♡:

Rules & Info:

• Reblog this post ♥︎

• Send me an ask (or comment/reblog) with borhap boy or queen member (+ Lucy/Mary) and a prompt number. That’s what your fic’s gonna be about :) Also to clarify, you guys are writing, not me!! 

•There are currently 24 prompts that range from angst, fluff, & songs! Might add more if needed

• One person per prompt, first come first serve!

• You can write smut if you want to

• It can be multiple parts or just one

• I’ll be making a masterlist of all of the fics!

• Lastly, tag it as #abbys3kfics and tag me in your fic so I can see it!!

• The deadline is Feburary 23rd

Prompts are below the cut!

Angst Prompts:

1. You’ll fuck me but you won’t (go out with/date/marry) me... (@lana-delcatty with Mary)

2. My biggest regret was loving you. (@marvellouslynerdy with Brian)

3. And even when I leave you, I will still be with you, in your memories. (@mamaskillerqueen with Ben!Roger)

4. I’m not coming home, don’t look for me.  (@trickster-may with Brian)

5. The phone calls aren’t the same... I can hear in your voice that it’s not the same anymore. (@killerqueenrogertaylor with Roger)

6. Is there any reason as to why you’re getting drunk on a Tuesday afternoon? (@rogertaylorsbitontheside with Roger)

7. But that’s it isn’t it? I’m just the girl who fell hopelessly in love with someone who will never love her back. ( @imaginingmarvelandeverything with Roger)

8. Just stay here with me... Stay here with me for one more night. (@queens-n-roses with Roger)

9. I’ll let you down. I will always let you down. I’m not enough for you to be satisfied. (@ange-must-die with Brian)

10. Remember when you promised we’d always be together? Because I remember when I thought you meant it. (@oohlovergirl with Roger)

11. I’m done. I’m done trying so hard only for you to never even look in my direction. (@fourmisfitz with Roger)

12. I’m trying to avoid talking because I know what it’ll lead to, and I don’t want that to come. (@grapesgrapesgrapesgrapes with Ben)

13. I can’t move on from something that wasn’t supposed to end!(@hystericalrogertaylor with Ben)

14. This whole time you’ve still been in love with (him/her)... Not me...(@rogahtayiah with Brian)

15. Someone like you doesn’t just fall in love with someone like me... (@itsokaytobesadsometimes with Ben!Roger)

Fluff Prompts:

16. Ssh, stop fussing. I’m just braiding your hair. (@inlovewithmycardboardben with Brian)

17. If you steal the blankets, I am going to put my cold feet on you. @radioblahblahh with Brian)

18. That’s great to hear since I am in love with you. (@hanginwithmanerds with Roger)

19. Well, distance does make the heart grow fonder. (@benhardyroger with Ben!Roger)

20. You look...you look very nice. Beautiful, I mean. Damn, why can’t I speak?(@ohsososophisticatedd with Roger)

21. But I want to hear you sing. (@happy-at-home with Deaky)

22. I’m sorry I stole your favorite sweater... But it smelled like you and I missed you while you were gone. (@writingfortoomanyfandoms with Roger)

23. Falling in love with you wasn’t apart of my life plan, but I don’t regret that I did. (@norisyismeh with Deaky)

24. Are you tired? Here, I’ll carry you the rest of the way. (@roger1na with Deaky)

25. What? No! I wasn’t staring... I-I was looking at something behind you! (@gwilymbenjoerami with Gwilym)

26. No I’m not letting you go. It’s too early to get out of bed. (@poachedhazontoast with Gwilym)

27. I’m not jealous! It’s just... You’re mine! (@westansstuff with Roger)

28. I’m really glad you’re comfortable, but my arm’s starting to fall asleep. (@somebooty-tolove with Roger) 

29. Out of all the idiots in this world, I love you the most. (@softlyhardy with Roger)

30. Be more careful next time, I don’t want to bandage you up again. (@goodoldfashioned-queen with Deaky)

31. God, I can’t pay attention to anything else but you. (@killer-queen-with-gunpowder with Deaky)

Song Prompts:

* can be inspired by, lyrics mixed in, or follow the song completely, up to you!

32. Jealousy by Queen (@getagriponmyboyracerrollbar with Ben!Roger)

33. Ghost of You by 5SOS (@caviar-cigarettes with Roger)

34. One of Us by ABBA  (@captainxmoony with Roger)

35. Angel Eyes by ABBA (@snacfu with Joe/Rami)

36. imagine by Ariana Grande (@zairapvrker with Ben!Roger)

37. Love of My Life by Queen (@blogbykate with Ben!Roger)

38. You’re My Best Friend by Queen ( @goldentattco with Ben!Roger)

39. Gimme Gimme Gimme (A Man After Midnight) by ABBA (@fatbottomedbitch with Roger)

40. Happier - Ed Sheeran (@blushy-monkey with Ben!Roger)

41. Somebody to Love - Queen (@roger-taylor-owns-my-wigg with Roger)

42. Dreamer’s Ball - Queen (@queenie-aus with Freddie)

43. Only Angel - Harry Styles (@queen-bunnyears with Roger)

44. SOS by ABBA (@deakydeckme with Joe)

45. Killer Queen by Queen (@fatbottomedgorl with Roger)

46. Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy by Queen (@itssaje with Roger)

Send a Name and Number Here!!! Or comment/reblog it don’t matter

#abbys3kfics #pls don't let this flop

[1waveshortofashipwreck]

15 Questions 15 Mutuals

Sorry it’s so late! Thank you @the-queens-of-chaos for tagging me!!

1. Are you named after anyone?

Two authors and an archangel!

2. When was the last time you cried?

A few minutes ago at the Game of Thrones series finale 😭

3. Do you have kids?

No, I want them in the future though!

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot?

no, never in my life 😏

5. What’s the first thing that people notice about you?

People tend to say my personality, something about being really outgoing or easy to talk to usually

6. What’s your eye color?

Blue!

7. Scary movie or happy ending?

Why not both?

8. Any special talents?

I tend to be able to read people’s emotions well, I’m also really good at BS-ing homework assignments 😅

9. Where were you born?

Virginia, USA!

10. What are your hobbies?

Watching YouTube is a big one, but I also like to draw and bullet journal

I also may or may not be writing a Queen/Game of Thrones fanfic

11. Do you have any pets?

2 dogs and 2 cats!

12. What sports do you play/have played?

I played basketball in middle school and I ice skated for a little while, but after that the closest I got to sports was color guard in the marching band

13. How tall are you?

5′4″!

14. Favorite subject in school?

In high school probably English, in college anything related to my psychology degree

15. Dream job?

CEO of a psychiatric hospital!!

Thank you again for the tag!!! I tag @freddiefansworld @browneyedfloozy @sassymaylor @fatbottomed-gurl @anotheronebitesthedick @anotheronebitesthedeacon @jazz-playing-queer @ilovemycrayons @acetrivial @cremebruleecandle @sitonmyhot-seatoflove @jmjd-lover @lesbian-deaky @queen-bunnyears and @queengavemeasheerheartattack 💖

[george-mackay-macfine]

Let's play a game. Prt 4.

A/N: Sorry it took so long, I had uni but how are you all liking the story and the characters?

Tag list; @neocil @cjand10 @queen-bunnyears @rebelflower19

If you want to join the tag list let me know.

"Let me in, Edwards." Hastings continued to bang on the door.

"No," I called back at him. "I don't want to spend another night in your bed. Never. Ever." Back braced against the wood.

"Don't lie. You'll make the baby Jesus cry."

"Shut up, Hastings." I turned, fingers digging into the wood grain as I stood on my tippy-toes watching him. There he was out in the hallway, one arm resting on the other side of the door, his teeth showing as he laughed all too easily at his own dumb joke. "I'm not opening the door, so you may as well leave." He rolled his eyes, looking at the peephole. "I'm serious." He stood there for a minute, contemplating the options I'd given him.

"Fine." He pushed away from the door. "Have it your way." and then he was gone, disappearing down the hallway.

"Alone again, finally." I pushed myself away and walked back into my kitchen, where my frozen meal sat on the cutting board. I'd been reading the directions before Hastings had so rudely interrupted me. "Heat on high for ten minutes… ten minutes." I picked the box up and looked at it. "You're supposed to be easy and quick!" I cried at it as if it had the ability to apologise for the disgusting amount of time I was going to have to wait for it to heat up.

"I am sorry about this." I heard Hastings voice from the hallway. "Forgot my key again." Jude Hastings says what now?

"It's not a problem, Jude. I'm just happy you and Darcy finally got over your issues." The voice of my too sweet, too kind, too naive landlady Patricia Gregson cooed at Hastings. "And what you have planned for the night, It's the least I can do after the effort you've gone through." Was the last she said before the door swung open.

"Honey, I'm home." My own personal demon smirked, stepping into my house. My domain. He was not allowed in my house. "What are you doing there? I told you I was taking you to my apartment for a special dinner." He walked in like he owned the place.

"Hi Darcy, sweetheart." Patricia waved from the hallway. "I was just telling Jude here how happy I am for the two of you." She smiled happily. "If my Colin was around to see you two now." She shook her head, her eyes glazing over to another time. She pulled herself back, shaking her head, looking at both Jude and I. "He'd be so happy to see this. We always knew you'd wind up together."

Oh, Patricia. If only you knew.

"Yeah." I nodded my head, unable to break her heart. "It's a shock to us all." I walked over to where he stood and slung an arm around his waist. "Thanks for letting him in." I smiled through gritted teeth. "I must have been in the bathroom when he was knocking."

"You've been peeing a lot lately." Hastings looked down at me. "When was your last period? You don't think-"

"I better be off, lots to do." Patricia reached in and grabbed the door handle, quickly pulling it shut behind her. When I'm sure she was gone, I pushed Hastings away from me, shoving him hard.

"Are you out of your mind?"

"What?"

"What?" I mimicked his stupid voice. "You just insinuated to my landlady that I am with child, you absolute dickhead."

"Sorry." He snorted.

"Sorry?"

"Yeah, sorry." He turned away and started to look through my house. "You packed your bag yet?"

"You know I haven't." I sighed.

"Well, go pack one." He put his hands on his hips, his shirt lifting as he moved to reveal the slither of flesh that I have a distinct memory of running my tongue across last night.

"Look, Hastings… Tonight really isn't a good night." I ran a hand through my hair. "I have to be at work early tomorrow, and it's just… I don't know how ready I'll be to teach a group of kids if I don't wake up in my own bed, and I'm still tense from a sleepless night lying beside you." I admitted. "I know what the whole game is, but I don't know if I can play tonight-"

"Darcy." He stopped me mid-speech. "Don't worry about the game. Your job's more important." He pointed through to where my bedroom was visible. "Besides, your bed looks comfortable, so I don't mind. I'll sleep here." He shrugged, walking into the small kitchen. "We'll order some food because that looks like unappealing crap… watch a movie, and then I'll woo you to death." I watched him. For the first time in a long time, I watched Jude Hastings rifle through the assortment of take away menu's I had hanging on the fridge. His body looked abnormally large in the small kitchen. "Aha." He cheered when he found a menu he liked. "Chinese." For the first time in a long time, all I could think was maybe this wouldn't be the worst night ever.

"What are you doing."

"Ordering us Chinese." He waved the menu. "Still a fan of chow mien?"

"You remember?"

"You ate it every Friday for a year." He winked. "And I have a good memory."

"I see your good at self-encouragement."

"It's not the only thing I'm good at." He smirked, holding his phone to his ear. "I'm also good at rescuing a damsel in distress from a microwave meal."

"I'm not going to sleep with you again, Hastings." I walked to the fridge and pulled out a bottle of wine, grabbing the nearby glasses. "So this whole thing, the hot guy coming to order Chinese food with his dreamy bedroom eyes… It won't work."

"You think I have dreamy bedroom eyes?" He gave a lopsided grin. "Hi yes," He spoke into the phone. "Can I order a delivery please." I tuned him out as I poured the two glasses of white wine and sat down at the small island bench. I wasn't even sure if he drank wine, but it was open, and I wasn't one to waste alcohol. "It'll be about fifteen-twenty minutes."

"Okay." I passed the second glass of wine to him, taking a large sip of my own.

"Can I tell you a secret?"

"Only if it's a good one I don't want anything subpar." He moved, sitting beside me on the second chair. His glass of wine clanking against the bench as he moved. He leaned in, his free hand brushing hair behind my ear, teasingly slow.

"If you think I was giving you bedroom eyes before." He chuckled lowly, head dipping so our eyes were level, the very tip of his nose bushing mine. "Then you won't believe what it's like when I really give you bedroom eyes."

"You think you're so smooth, don't you."

Part of me really wanted to see those bedroom eyes, the other part of me knew that I may not have the will to not sleep with him again if I did.

"I don't, actually." He pulled away slightly. "But I'm trying to win your heart, and your beautiful, so I'm going to tell you."

"Are you drunk?"

"No." I leant an elbow on the counter, laying my head in my hand looking up at him. "And tomorrow morning, I'm still going to be sober, and you." He shook his head, looking up to the ceiling. "You… You are still going to be beautiful." Am I imagining this, or is THE Jude Hastings giving me a compliment.

"Woe." I couldn't help the smile that came to my face. A big smile, one that felt like it was the first genuine smile I'd had in years. "You really are a smooth, smooth man Hastings."

"Why do you never call me Jude?"

"Why do you hardly call me Darcy."

"Because you call me Hastings all the time."

"I only call you Hastings because—"I stumbled. "I don't know I've just always called you Hastings." I sat up, pulling one of my knees up into my chest. "Who knows, maybe one day I'll call you Jude."

"I think my heart would stop if you ever did that,"

"How do you think the town is taking the news of our epic romance?"

"Well, I checked the obituaries this morning, so far we haven't shocked anyone to death yet."

"So you're saying we've failed." I laughed. "A day of pretending to be a couple and no one has rolled over and died?" I gasped.

"Maybe that means that we need to step it up, huh?"

"Flattering, but I am not interested."

"Honeybird," Another new nickname? Calm down Edwards. "You looked me in the eye a little too long to not be interested in me."

"You're really trying this aren't you." I waved a finger between us.

"Trying what?"

"To get me to fall in love with you." A smile pulled on his lips, not his usual asshole smirk, but a genuine smile, the one that to make butterflies launch themselves all around my stomach.

"It'd be an honour to have the Darcy Alice Edwards fall in love with me, so I'm going to give it my all."

"As it would be an honour to break your heart, Jude Alexander Hastings."

"So you do know how to say my name." He sat back, arms crossing over his chest as he looked me feigning shock. "I'm also going to need you to tell Sato that Fredrick isn't my real middle name."

"No." I began to pick at the hem of my nightgown, thankful he'd given me a Segway comment from the conversation that was getting all too serious too fast. "I don't think I can do that,"

"What is the obsession."

"With?"

"Telling people I have that heinous name as any part of me?"

"I like the idea of all these girls being so enraptured by Jude Hastings, picturing themselves as Mrs Jude Hastings, then having that dream crash and burn around them when they think that your middle name is Fredrick… I mean the name isn't exactly a turn-on." I shrugged. Hastings watched me for a moment, studying me as if this was the first time he, a male, had ever come in contact with me, a female.

"You really are evil." His hand stretched out, his fingers tapping against my temple gently. "This brain in here, it was made for terrible, terrible things,"

"Not terrible things." I denied. "Just terrible things when you're involved."

I needed him to stop touching me, because the slight rub of his fingers over my skin made flashbacks from last night pop up all over my brain, which caused my heart rate to increase, which caused me to want to see if he was as good as he was last night sober, which was a horrible thought to have indeed when you're dealing with a childhood enemy.

"More wine." I stood and walked back to the fridge, ignoring the half-open bottle on the table. I needed space from him.

"There's wine here." I kept my back to him, walking to the small sink and standing in front of it. I needed my space. I hated Jude Hastings, with a passion… But something inside of me wanted to let him in, let him change my mind about him, or at least let a part of him in… "Darcy." His voice was suddenly behind me, his hands on my hips, the edge of my shirt lifting as he held on.

Stop it Darcy. Stop thinking with your metaphorical dick.

His right hand left my hip and went to the hair that covered my neck, pushing it out of the way. My hands gripped onto the bench tighter, as I told myself over and over not to turn around, not to face him because if I did then that was it. We'd end up in my bed, our incoming food forgotten. But then his lips touched my neck and my knees went weak as my head lolled backwards resting on his shoulder, and I wasn't sure I was in the mood for Chinese anymore. I turned around, looking up at Hastings.

"Do you want to know what I think when I think about you, Darcy?" He whispered, his hands pushing the hair behind my ear as I numbly nodded. "I see the little girl who wore a sunflower sundress and ran around my parents' backyard like a kid on a sugar high." I knew the exact dress he was talking about. "The little girl who I got Christmas photos with every year up until we were thirteen… That was when you started to hate me." He was right. "You will always be the little girl I had a crush on when I was eight."

"You… You had a crush on me?" A smile that made my heart race spread across his lips.

"Only the biggest one, you were the cutest girl I'd ever seen."

Don't fall for it Darcy, this is all part of his big old plan to make you fall in love with his stupid squishable face.

"Dinner will be here in a minute. I'm going to wash up." I sidestepped around him and made my way to my small bathroom. "Get together, Darcy." I muttered, leaning against the door as soon as I'd shut it, disconnecting myself from the girl who was just fawning all over Hastings. "Fuck," I walked over the sink and took a look at myself. My cheeks were flushed and my hair was slightly puffed from where Hastings had moved it aside to kiss my neck.

Involving parents and colleagues was a level of dirty. Inflicting emotional bullshit from the past was a whole new level of dirty. Clearly, Hastings had no problem playing that card.

If he really thinks he can get me on the sentimental crap just because I'm a woman, then I'm going to use the greatest weakness of a man against him.

"Hastings, you are going down." My hands gripped onto the edge of the sink as I formulated my plan. Thankfully years of watching Hastings be a man whore in front of me I knew exactly what to do to get his blood pumping.

"Darcy," His fingers tapped against the door, "Dinner is here."

"You start." I walked over pulling the door open wide. "I'm just going to change." I walked past him and into my bedroom, shutting the sliding doors that cut it off from the rest of the apartment, making sure I left a sizeable gap for any peering eyes - trust me, there were going to be peeping eyes. "Where are you," I muttered, looking at the pile of clothes I'd discarded before I'd begun cooking today. I needed Hastings shirt. "Bingo." I spotted the white material underneath my jeans. Stripping from the dress I made sure the straps of my bra - I'd paid a lot for it once upon a time, I needed it to come through for me - could be seen, or at least enough for Hastings to see through the thin fabric of his shirt. Pulling it over my body, I fastened the buttons before pulling a pair of white socks over my feet. I could feel his eyes on me as I stood back up, fixing my hair and pulling the shirt down.

Play innocent, Darcy.

"Smells good." I called out as I turned. There he was, standing at the kitchen bench filled with Chinese take out watching me. His eyes looked drastically darker and I don't think it was just because of the distance between us. I pushed the doors open trying to control the smile that wanted to break out on my face as I walked over to the bench. "Yum." I picked up the container of chow mien. "You not eating?"

"What I want isn't exactly on the menu."

"Oh?" I picked up the menu and waved it. "They're usually pretty good. You could have asked them to make it." I lifted myself up onto a clean spot on the bench, crossing my legs underneath each other. "I'm sure it could have been on the menu."

"Darcy," His eyes were travelling all over my body. "This isn't fair."

"What I'm going to eat all this Chinese, and you don't get any?"

"Yeah." He picked up a nearby carton and shoved a pair of chopsticks inside. "Something like that."

"I can't wait for bed." I lifted one of my arms above my head and stretched, cool air hitting the newly exposed skin. "I'm so beat."

"Fucking Christ." He mumbled, shaking his head.

Darcy - One.

Man-whore demon - nill.

"Language." I quipped, picking a noodle from the carton and popping it into my mouth. "Mhhhmm." I moaned excessively at the taste. Turn it up, why don't you, Darcy.

Good luck not busting a nut tonight, Hastings.

#dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien imagine #Dylan O'Brien story #Dylan O'Brien Head Cannon #dylan o'brien x reader #Calahan Skogman #Calahan Skogman imagine #Harry Styles #Harry Styles Imagine #Harry Styles one shot #Dylan O'Brien One shot #George MacKay #George MacKay imagine

[georgemackayhey]

Silver Lining: Chapter 4

In which you and George decide to make the most of life after meeting up at the wrong place at just the right time…

w/c: 6k

a/n: This is the second to last chapter, guys! Ah! It's been such fun to write, and as always I'm looking forward to hearing all your thoughts and feelings! ♡

taglist: @etherealallure​ @maria-josefin​ @shelbygirlsclubx​ @loulouloueh​ @clarkewithameme​ @haileymorelikestupid​ @weyheyavengers​ @queen-bunnyears​

< Last Chapter Next Chapter>

───※ ·❆· ※───

The halls of the resort were immaculate, the sound of your hurried stomp echoed through them. You had hardly taken the time to appreciate the well-lit space with the way you zoomed up to the third floor- fist clenched at your side. You knew exactly what to expect, holding no hope for any other possibility.

And as you hurriedly knocked on the soft cream door of room 500, you hadn't even really noticed how George was hot on your trail; though lagging a bit behind to catch his breath on a winding staircase.

There was muffled chatter from behind the door you approached, the sound causing your patience to wear thin. So you went on knocking until the sound of a lock being turned proceeded its fateful opening.

"What? What is it- oh."

Colin was stood in the sliver of the open door, dressed in a sloppily tied hotel robe. And even though he seemed unprepared to greet anyone, a wicked grin painted his lips, as if he'd somehow been expecting to see you, all the same. The sight of him was enough to set your blood to a boil and the sound of his stupid grumbly voice nearly drove you to a psychotic break right then and there.

"What are you doing here?" You asked in a growl through your teeth. As soon as the desk attendant shot you a pitiful glare, you knew what was going on. You weren't surprised to see your almost ex-husband guarding the entrance to the room you booked for your honeymoon. But you were well and truly seething that he had the gall to enjoy any kind of leisure time during the period he should have somehow been paying for his moral crimes.

"Well, darling, as I recall it, I wanted to come here. You wanted to go to Rome. Looks like we've both gotten what we want, hm?"

"Don't call me-" You spat, glaring at him with a look you wish could kill.

"Alright- alright, It's been a lovely visit but I've had quite enough of you," Colin moved to shut the door, but in some odd reflex, you moved to stop it. You didn't really want to see much more of the guy. You didn't even realize you had more to say. But curses and blames started spouting out of you, pent up for too long.

Colin wasn't listening though. Why would he?  He did his own talking, right over top of you, complaining about the things he always hated about your life together, how much time he wasted on you. You were arguing the things you both always knew but were never brave enough to say in the stability of your mediocre romance.

"It's just like you to show up and ruin the only bit of good life has thrown my way in the past week." You hissed.

"Oh please, I gave you more good than you'll ever get again." Colin boasted, always one to make mention of wealth and status, no matter the situation or topic.

As you stood trying desperately trying to think up a comeback, you were too blinded by anger to say anymore.

That's when another voice, strained from hurrying after you, floated around the corner.

"Y/n? What's- oh" George's concerned expression morphed into some surprising glare when he turned to see who had already taken residence in the room you booked. George stalled in place, managing to steady himself in a flash even with all the momentum he'd gained on his race to catch up to you.

"Who the hell are you?" Colin asked in a condescending snort of a laugh that made the meter tracking your rage fly up and over the ballistic marker, sending you to short circuit.

But there was nothing more to say or do. Colin likely wouldn't give up his stay if you demanded, and even if he decided too, you wouldn't have wanted to stay in a room your ex-fiance had just been occupying. You knew he was only blocking your entry so he might have some kind of last laugh. And he got it, didn't he? With a frustrated groan, you spun on your heels and stormed away in the same fashion you'd hurried up here.

"Enjoy your holiday" You heard George offer Colin some semblance of a goodbye, though his tone was strained and withholding, he was still polite. But you were too busy fuming to admire the little ways George fascinated you.

You didn't have time to meet the desk attendants worried gaze as you stormed past his desk and out of the resort doors. You didn't have the sense to feel sorry for breaking up a group of birds from enjoying someone's discarded cup of ice cream as you paced toward a row of tall trees at the edge of the car park.

You knew the fun would have to end soon, but you were ignorant to the possibility of this trip ending in the same frustrating manner the night before your wedding had. Colin was at the worst place at the right time and he got just what he wanted, leaving you to pay the price once more. But you probably deserved it. You were really beginning to wonder if life could be lived in the dreamlike haze that Rome provided. You should have known better.

And just like always, when you least expected it, George slowly sauntered toward where you lingered kicking rocks at trees.

"Only you would run into someone you know on holiday in Barcelona" He echoed the same wry joke you gave him in Rome, but now was different. Now was ruined and you were struggling not to cry.

"I'm sorry, George. I thought this was going to be endless fun, and I don't know what I was thinking, dragging you along, and now its all ruined and I just-"

"It's not ruined." George gently cut through your monologue in that marvelously confusing way of his; pointing out the bright side that you really couldn't see, especially right now. "It doesn't have to be anyway." You just kept your befuddled gaze on him as he went on...

"He can keep the resort. It was far too posh anyway. Why don't we find a place on the beach and make the best of it?"

"You.. you still want to?" You breathed a humorless laugh. Your shoulders relaxed as you attempted to come away from your anger, and tried to understand why on earth George was still on board this wild ride.

"Well, we're already here. And... you promised I could choose our next adventure." George teased, offering a grin and reading his brows, coaxing you to smile too. You just stared at him, taking note of his relaxed disposition, his gentleness. It practically radiated from him.

"I'll go fetch our bags if you find a cab?" George nodded, already beginning to walk backward toward the entrance of the resort. And with the way he took the action you felt no option but to agree to join in, nodding on your turn to hail a ride.

The cab driver you flagged down was almost sickeningly helpful. She listed off a few dozen places to stay adding her personal favorite perks of every place. She waved goodbye when you and George stretched out onto the pavement of a hotel a decent number of miles away from the resort you'd come from.

The hotel you'd chosen was right on a golden beach, a quaint little stucco styled building. Inside was decorated in natural tones and plants and flowers. George insisted on splitting the cost when you wouldn't let him pay for the whole thing.

You thought of renting two separate small rooms four floors apart, but that seemed silly since you were basically on this trip together. So because the price was the same, you booked a suite with two small rooms joined by a galley kitchen and called it a day.

So after lugging your bags into the spot you'd keep them for the next week, there was nothing left to worry over. The mini bar in the lobby was serving drink specials; you decided since it wasn't quite time for dinner or bed, the day you had called for some form of immediate indulgence.

The bar was full of seasoned vacationers, sharing finger foods and margaritas. A kind bar keep managed to take your order before you'd even settled at the bar top. "You know what, I better just get this over with." You decided, pulling your phone from your pocket. You'd promised to call your mother often, and you knew you had to tell her what had just gone down. The sooner the better, you realized, because you didn't want to dwell on Colin or anything you had to endure hearing from the guy. You wanted to forget everything that had happened and spend the rest of your vacation having at least a little bit of fun.

You pushed past a door into the warm afternoon, settling against a wooden post of the patio where families lingered to shake off the sand from the beach before heading back inside the hotel.

Your mother answered the phone as she had days ago, worried before you'd even gotten the chance to say hello. So you didn't even try to mask your greeting with fake charm. You headed straight into the details of your upsetting encounter. How the start of your stay in this beautiful city was permanently soiled with the memory of Colin.

"I tried to warn you." Your mother spoke theatrically. You wondered if she could hear your furrow your brow, because she went on to explain herself. "I heard from Shirley, who heard from Dr. McCarther, that Colin's mother said he left for the airport a day ago."

So that's why she'd been so frantic on the phone, before.

"I tried to warn you, deary. I know how much you wanted this trip to be some kind of escape." She commiserated in the way only mothers know how to best.

"Yeah, I'm determined to keep it that way. We're staying at the beach now, instead." You spoke decidedly.

"Well, now that I've got your attention might I suggest coming home?" Your mother scolded. "I understand what you're going through but is taking off with some stranger really-"

You blocked out everything she said after that. Your mother meant well, you knew, but she had no idea what you were going through. She'd been happily married for decades. And she didn't know George.

You just couldn't go one talking about this situation. Sure Colin did his best to rain on your parade, but the heavens gave you one last shot to go a little wild. You were here, with George and there was no changing that. So you ended the call with the promise you were safe and sound and planned to keep it that way. Then you marched back inside repeating the mantra to yourself.

"What your mother must think of me," George pulled a face as you eased into the seat at the dark wooden bar, next to him. "I cringe to wonder."

"Oh, you think I'm calling home to report about you, Mr. Movie star?" You joked, jabbing George in the arm with your elbow. At this point, the little gesture felt familiar and you'd only wondered if you'd been to forward after the fact. If George was put off by it, his broad grin was only contradicted by the smallest shake of his head, eyes averted to a waiter who happily served your drinks.

___

The next day you woke up early and headed to see Casa Batlló. In fact, in just the first couple of days, you managed to see the majority of Gaudi's creations. It was divine, taking the time to admire the buildings and listen to other tourists yammer on about what they'd come to see and why they were so excited to be in the city.

There were fleeting moments, for the first day or two, when you worried Colin wasn't finished sabotaging your trip. That he might pop out of nowhere and pretend he was the one who was once so excited to take a tour of a modern art museum. But you realized he was never keen to your well-planned list. In fact, you planned most of your trip with the knowledge that Collin would be off meeting business partners and making deals. You needed something to occupy your time, and you never imagined having anyone to experience each little adventure with you.

That's what made George's presence all the more exciting.

Besides that, you'd seemed to have fallen into a familiar routine with George. And not just in the way you'd gone about planning out your days. You'd began to predict each other's lunch orders and what you'd both might have enjoyed most about each little adventure, and why. You'd began to pick up on many of George's little quirks...

Like how every place you went, people noticed George, but he didn't seem to notice their lingering gazes. You could never be sure if passerby recognized him like you once had, or if they were only struck by his perfect features like you often were.

But this didn't mean he gave anyone a cold shoulder. No, George was as friendly to the people running market booths and passerby as he was to you, offering smiles and asking about the details of the flowers they were selling.

He brought up serious things at the strangest times. Like how he told you some deep dark secret in passing over midday coffee, just as you'd come away from raving about the cup you held in your hands. George would ask intense questions as you stood on the edge of a garden watching a street band play where children danced near the makeshift drums. His timing always seemed strange and unexpected; but as you went on talking about whatever might have been brought up, you realized you felt completely comfortable sharing your own answers and hearing his in turn.

George gave answers that were well thought out, even if they were just yes or no. And he listened when you did the same, nodding and laughing at every right time.

Then there was how you shared silence together. Even when there weren't words to trade, the glances and nods you passed to each other seemed to speak for themselves.

And when you lied on the beach, breathing in the salty air while the sounds of scattered laughter were dulled by crashing waves, the silence between you and George was easy.

George looked perfectly comfy with a new ratty paperback held above his face. You wondered how many tiny storybooks he's backed away, and how many times he'd read them, with such worn covers.

When you pointed out boats on the far off horizon, George wasn't upset to be disrupted his reading. He indulged every one of your passing thoughts before turning another page, reading on till one of you had reason to speak up again.

But when you closed your eyes to soak up the warmth of the sun, your peace was broken when George uttered a strange noise. You lifted your sunglasses, turning your head to find a hard plastic frisbee had invaded the space you set up.

"I'm so sorry!" A girl rushed toward you, apologizing in an accented squeak. Her hair was flowing honey brown, her bathing suit was sunny yellow. She was the kind of picture-perfect girl that when mirrored against your own image, alerted you to the things you liked least about yourself.

"We're just learning how to play," She shyly reached out for the frisbee George had taken into his clutch, after it hit him on the knee.

"It's not too hard. Keep your eye on the prize next time, aye?" George extended the plastic disc to the girl.

She giggled. You feigned a chuckle in response as you slid your sunnies back on.  George spun off into some story about the correct frisbee stance and how it was tougher than it looked.

"Care to lead by example? We're hopeless." The foreign girl bit her lip with a hopeful gaze and that was all it took to get George to his feet.

Before he left, though, he handed his book to you with a smile. "Safe hands." He gave you a look as you settled back into your spot, giving him a similar expression before watching him skip off to meet the group of girls, showing them all the perfect frisbee stance, whatever the hell that even meant. How hard could it really be?

You only turned your gaze to the book in your possession, pretending to read it, but more so admiring the pages as you tried to understand what made them so important to George, what he valued. Wondering what tomorrow might bring.

___

Four days in, a heavy downpour halted your plans to frolic through the streets of Barcelona. You had become absolutely taken with the city and every time a new adventure died down, the pair of you would dream up what to do with the rest of your time.

So when dense pelts of rain woke you up, you frowned, but George seemed at ease, of course. He was just as excited to plan a day in.

He ordered extra from room service and found a foreign movie channel on the television in his room. The pair of you kicked back on the decently-sized bed he'd made up and added your own commentary to the films you couldn't quite understand. You ended having a blast making up storylines of your own as movies passed by the screen, and you shared plates of fruits while the rain poured on.

It was easy to get lost in George's company, no matter what you were doing. You realized you were treading dangerous waters, letting yourself feel so engulfed by his presence. But you let yourself all the same, determined to make the most of this rare occasion that would soon become nothing but a fleeting occasional memory.

Then it came time to attend the cooking class you'd signed up for. The website where the sign up sheet came from encouraged everyone who did to make time to visit La Boqueria beforehand. The market was only just around the corner from where the cooking class was held, and it was the place all the ingredients you'd work with would have been purchased.

You and George roamed around stalls for almost too long, exchanging favorite recipes, kitchen horror stories, and successes. You'd nearly forgotten where you were on your way too and had to hurry around a couple of corners to make it to the class on time.

When you arrived in a rush, the people who'd made it there on time were mingling inside a building made up of big tall windows and white brick. Most of them stared, bewildered by your hurry inside. There was still time to spare it seemed.

And as you eased in to join the group who'd already been waiting, past a few warm welcomes, you recognized one greeting out of the rest.

It was the girl from the beach who couldn't manage to get the hang of throwing a frisbee. Though you had a hunch she'd know exactly what she was aiming for, that day.  And there was no doubt she'd recognized you now, or rather, George.

He greeted her warmly, with kindness, like George did best. You gave her a smile and a shrug, accepting that she wasn't keen to give you the time of day. In fact as she greeted George in turn, she mentioned only signing up for this class after he mentioned something about it during their impromptu frisbee lesson.

Luckily that was about the time the instructor made his grand appearance.

A tall slender man with dark hair tousled and big green eyes slid into the room with a perfect smile. He introduced himself as Aureo, and you were nearly blinded by his beauty. He was just the right amount of good looking, a little intimidating, but all too well-spoken, he was like a male version of a siren.  

As Aureo spoke enthusiastically about the wonders your cooking class was about to embark upon, it seemed everyone was just as smitten with the instructor. Even George seemed dazzled, his wide eyes entirely fixated on the fellow.  

As Aureo went on explaining the class and began to delve into the foundations of cooking and the joy of food, his forest-colored eyes kept sweeping over to meet yours. His smile never faltered as he helped each attendant set up their kitchen. You and George were meant to stick together, as most of the people who'd come had brought a friend or two in tow. But the frisbee girl was all on her own.

Aureo was quick to assign her to join up with another pair of ladies, who were more than happy to accept her. But as you watched the slim girl move further toward the back of the room you watched her smile falter.

Soon, you got to cooking a basic version of paella with some fun added twists, and some pa amb tomàquet. Between demonstrations, Aureo made rounds to help everyone set up and start in.

You and George settled into your usual comfortable banter, shoving each other out of the way while you playfully bickered over the cooking instructions. George compared the duty to The Great British Bake off, laughing at how some of the other mini kitchen's were fretting over doing the exact right task at the exact right time.

The room made up of windows was full of warm sunlight and delightful smells. And in between everything was Aureo. You swore you felt your heart stop each time you caught him glancing your way. Never before had you felt so drawn to someone but simultaneously cautious of the same thing.

"Are you going to flirt back or leave that man hopelessly gawking your way the whole afternoon?" George wondered after you'd been caught averting a prolonged gaze with the guy teaching you to cook something new.

"Oh, I can't he's way out of my league." You fretted, searching for a certain spice on the rack in your cabinet space. "Plus I just got my courage up to say something and he's not even looking over here anymore." You pouted while George chopped up a lemon, chucking at your disposition.

You looked over to find Aureo leaning over a woman's shoulder as she offered him a bite of a cut-up pepper. He seemed to have forgotten all about you, actually, admiring the pretty, starry-eyed girl he was circling now.

"It's because he watched me shove fresh bread in my face like a monster and now I'm totally unkissable and he'll never even look my way again ." You joked. As much as you'd liked the attention the instructor kept giving you, there was something holding you back from giving in all the way.

The man was a walking angel, a vision, and he kept looking right at you with something undeniable burning behind his gaze. That was pretty nice.

"You're perfectly kissable, now let's get you that man." George raised his hand, polite as ever, even while scheming.

But you couldn't tell if he meant it, or if he was just trying to shift your attention elsewhere so he could flirt back with the hot girl who'd been shamelessly swooning over George all afternoon. She would shoot her smile across the room, laughing a little when George happily grinned back.

Low and behold, when Aureo came over to ask what you needed, and you made up some excuse about confusing measurements, the frisbee girl took a chance to come prancing over too. Her name was Renee, and her excuse for invading your kitchen was honestly to borrow some sugar. No one needed any sugar. It was a bloody free for all, and all you could seem to focus on was Aureo's warm hand trailing across your lower back as he went on telling you exactly what to do next.

When he left you, his glances somehow became more persistent, and you felt certain you were living in some kind of fever dream. And he kept coming back.

At first, to ask what music you'd prefer played over the background speaker, insisting if you said the word and he'd waltz back to change the song. Aureo was cunningly persistent, and you didn't mind his brief but blush filled visits. Especially since George had an admirer of his own.

Renee waltzed over, asking George about his stay in Barcelona so far. He kept mentioning the things you'd enjoyed together, asking you how you remembered certain things, and Renee would cast a glance your way. It was empty and unfeeling, just for show before her focus settled completely back to George.

And you couldn't blame her. He was so easy to observe.

You thought you'd started to figure George out by now, but of course, you hadn't. He still laughed about things you didn't realize he'd even noticed. He still looked at you in a way you couldn't understand. Even while he was talking to Renee.

As all the food started to come together, everyone went around trying each other's dishes. Renee made herself at home on your countertop, gushing over George's skills in the kitchen. As they got to talking about their favorite foods, she took a shot at asking him to someplace in the city with the best coffee he absolutely had to try.

Renee was serious, her big doe eyes gazing up at him with her fingers crossed behind her back. As George hesitated to respond, the girl was called back to her kitchen when their food had finished cooking.

When she sulked away with a glance over her shoulder to George who had already turned his attention back to the wonderful pa amb tomàquet you'd managed to create, you felt for the poor girl.

"Are you afraid of trying the best coffee ever and ruining your taste for every other cup for the rest of time?" You chuckled, leaning against the counter while George happily snacked away.

"I suppose we could stop in if you're so keen." George shrugged, none the wiser.

"Wouldn't you want to go with Renne?" You pushed, giving the guy a little laugh as you reached for one of the bits of bread on a silver platter.

"I've only just met her." George started off chuckling, but as he spoke he seemed to realize what it was he was saying. You shared a look, considering how Geogres soft smile remained, but turned into an expression more serious that you couldn't quite understand. But your smile blossomed into a burst of a laugh.

"You didn't even know my name when you gave me your phone number." You pestered, doing your best to ignore how speaking about it made my stomach fill with butterflies. How thinking back to this whole thing started seemed crazy, but in a good way.

"That was different." George searched your face, his brilliant blue eyes full of something he wasn't saying. Something he thought, or maybe hoped, you understood.

Somehow, after a few silent moments passed while you went on lazily tidying up your kitchen,  George said something about how he'd come here with you, and didn't want to leave you out of anything. He said that if you made plans with Aureo, that he'd make plans with Renee. But It felt like a dare. It didn't feel like a change of plans. It felt like some kind of game.

And the next thing you knew, you motioned Aureo over toward you and asked his favorite place to go dancing.

___

You slept in the next morning, content far from home. You stretched slowly into the morning, taking your sweet time getting ready for the day. As you padded into the galley kitchen to kick start the automatic coffee machine, you didn't expect any company.

"Goodmorning!" George greeted, coming from around the corner with an empty teacup in his clutch. You gasped, taken aback by his sudden appearance for once.

"I thought you were supposed to be drinking the world's best coffee with the world prettiest girl, today?" You sighed a laugh, relaxing against the counter as your heart rate eased back to normal. You had thought you heard him make plans before leaving the class, last night.

George set down his cup turning to face you while the coffee machine crackled to life.

"I decided against it. I'm sorry, I thought I told you so."

"Oh," You frowned in realization, wondering when he went about changing his mind.

Yesterday, as you'd lost yourself in a giggle-filled conversation with Aureo before the class ended, George seemed to be getting on well with Renee in the corner. What had happened?

"Well, now I'll feel bad about leaving you later." You spoke up, searching for a mug in the limited cabinet space.

"Oh, you shouldn't. I trust you'll have a good time. Renee was sweet. Just..."

"Yeah, yeah..." You pretended to understand, having no clue what George was being so weird about. "Want some of the world's most mediocre coffee?" You laughed, pouring yourself a cup to enjoy the morning, well, afternoon by this point.

The weather was a bit gloomy again, but the rain held off, giving you the perfect chance to whip out a set of playing cards on the balcony barely big enough to fit either of you together. When the time came to start getting ready, you were conflicted.

"You won't feel bad if I go?" You asked. Because George had basically been following your lead this whole trip, even asking if you were happy with the little things he thought up to do, before going about doing them.

"I'll be perfectly happy so long as you are." George did little to persuade you one way or another, which was funny considering how he'd coaxed you into giving Aureo a little attention the day before.

Ultimately, you got ready to go out. The cooking instructor had given you an address to meet up with him after his workday ended, and after a quick google search, you found it was a pretty popular night club. As you slid into an outfit, you almost wondered if you should invite George along. But as soon as the thought passed through your mind, so did a million other reasons why that was a bad idea.

"How's this?" You genuinely worried over how you looked, rushing to stand still in the doorway of the room you'd been occupying. George was stood in the kitchen, sporting joggers, holding a glass of water in one hand, and a new, old tattered book in the other.

"Oh.... you, well..." The guy looked you up and down, failing to come up with an assured answer. That was what you'd expected, a simple yes or no, maybe even a reason for whatever answer he'd chosen. Like always. But he just stated different conjunctions while you pulled at the hem of a dress you weren't sure how to feel about.

"Well, it'll have to do. I'm late." You sighed, hurrying to fetch your room key from the counter and fasten your shoes on. Aureo was probably already waiting up for you outside of the nightclub he insisted on showing you too, after you'd asked.

"Right well, see ya." George watched you scurry out into the hallway with a quick wave.

On your speed walk down the stairs, you couldn't help but kick yourself for not giving George a proper goodbye, even if you were in a rush. You'd felt so conflicted, leaving him. You didn't have a doubt he'd be happy on his own, but you'd come to function as some kind of team on this trip. Leaving seemed unnatural.

///

Aureo was standing in a well fitted, casual suit jacket with matching short cuffed trousers. His already brilliant features lit up when he saw you hurrying to cross the street.

As you met up with him you apologized for being late, feeling a bit bashful as he stepped even closer to hear you speak. His accent added something even more enchanting to his already velvety voice, when he assured it was fine and how excited he was to show you to his favorite club in the city.

The way his emerald green eyes traveled across your figure before he complimented your dress made you weak in the knees. His warm hand across the small of your back as he guided you inside.

There were three levels you could see, people dancing close to massive speakers, leaning over the rails of each floor to wave to their friends above and below. The lights were dim except every now and again when they flashed to the beat of some decently enjoyable pop music.

The bar wrapped around three corners, liquor decorating the walls of the lower level. That's where you headed first, insisting Aureo order you something he enjoyed best since this was his scene.

Some fancy mixed drink slid across the counter soon after he'd ordered as if they'd been expecting him. It wasn't long before your own drink came, some electric blue liquid in a crystal glass.

That's how the night started, taking some time to enjoy your drink before Aureo pulled you toward the dance floor. He was good, of course, and you didn't even have time to worry over the steps you were missing as he guided you along. It was stupidly fun, spinning around, bumping into people who'd laughed because they'd just bumped into you as well. Spirits were high, and between songs, you kept going back for more drinks.

Every pause, Aureo talked about cooking. You happily listened, trying to soak up everything about your surroundings at once.

You were a few drinks in, and the room was already close to spinning. But you were having so much fun. You slammed back another electric blue drink and twirled back to the dance floor.

There was something about the bass line in the chorus of Justin Timberlake's "Filthy" that you couldn't resist. And the floor was packed with dancers who must have felt the same. As you went on trying your best not to lose Aureo in the crowd while simultaneously losing yourself to the music, you felt your alcoholic haze turn into a fever of sorts.

As you raced away from the music, there was a mile-long line to either restroom, so you headed straight for the back exit.

You spilled out into a long dark alley where dumpsters lived. There were distant bouts of laughter coming from smokers at either end, so you spun between a trash can and a discarded broken shelf and proceeded to get sick.

It was an unceremonious end to your efforts to have a blast. And what was worse, how you still felt dizzy and down.

It wasn't long before Aureo came to check on you. He was the perfect gentleman, holding your hair back for round two and asking what you needed.

You apologized several hundred times for ruining the fun when you decided it was best just to go back to your hotel. You asked Aureo if you could make it up to him in a day or so. You were drunk enough to speak without considering your offer but sober enough from your episode that you managed to pull yourself together to go back where you came from.

Aureo insisted on giving you a ride back, fretting over getting you home safe. You were drunk enough to accept his ride without worry and sober enough to give him directions.

The guy put his number in your phone when you pulled up to the hotel because you felt the need to make up for the way you ended the night. You wanted a redo. And this way seemed like a common courtesy by now...

Aureo insisted on walking you up to the room, he seemed truly worried over your well being, and that endeared you to him more than you already had been.

"I'll call you, okay?" you promised the guy while you unlocked your hotel door, after thanking him for being so kind and bringing you back. He nodded, those pretty emerald eyes searching yours as you slipped inside after saying goodbye.

The lights were off in the tiny common area, and you focused all your energy on creeping back to your room without disturbing the peace. You failed by running into the corner, steadying yourself with a whine as you opened your bedroom door.

"Are you alright?"

You were caught.

"Sorry if I woke you up." You spoke low, even though there was no point in keeping quiet now that George was standing near your side, speaking gently to you.

"You're back quite early," George went on, seeming worried over how you sulked in the doorway after pushing open your bedroom door.

"Yeah... I just don't feel good." You admitted. But you didn't feel sick anymore. You just felt tired. You actually felt a lot like you had when you'd drank too much before, when your head filled up and nothing made sense.

With a gentle, "Come on." George pushed you further into your bedroom. You slumped onto the unmade bed, unlacing your shoes in an impressive hurry. George was gone when you looked up again, tossing each shoe across the room. You fell against your pillows with a sorry groan, shutting your eyes, and wondering if you'd made some kind of mistake tonight.

That's when George shuffled back in, quiet as a mouse. You kept your eyes shut, but heard him rest a glass of water on your bedside table. The sound of your door creaking shut made your heart sink.

When you thought to yourself how badly you wished George would have stayed by your side, you realized the depths of the shit you were in. You realized exactly why you felt so bad. You couldn't ignore it anymore.

You wanted so much more from George, and he was already giving you more than you deserved.

───※ ·❆· ※───

#george mackay #george mackay x reader #george mackay imagine #george mackay fanfic