George And Dream Fanfic Novels & Stories

He sealed his promise with a tender kiss on my hand. I smiled, warmth flooding through me. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” We continued talking into the night, the hours slipping away as we shared our thoughts and laughter. Eventually, exhaustion settled in, and we decided to go to bed. That night, I slipped into a dream where I was with George, but suddenly, we were separated. A massive river surged between us, its current fierce and unrelenting. I kept yelling for George, my voice rising above the roar of the water, but he walked away, oblivious to my cries.

George rubs his face, “I remember the dream, but I don’t know when it became reality.” He puts his head in his hands, “Did I really rape her?” Seb sighs, and moves around to sit next to him, “I had to physically pull you out of her. So yes. It was real.” George gets up and jogs to a nearby tree and vomits. Seb sighs and continues, “I didn’t hear everything you said to her, but once you were out of the tent you did say; ‘That’s my Good Girl, you’ll always come back to me. No one can stop me from taking what’s mine, Darling. Your cunt is mine.’ All while I had you in a headlock.” Seb shudders, George wipes his mouth and staggers back to the fire,

He was standing by the door with his mouth hanging low. “You said you wanted to see him, so this was what...” George felt like he had bees in his head, and they were going to explode. “I-I can’t believe this. I am dreaming, right? You guys weren’t kissing, right? You just had something in your eyes, and he was trying to blow it out for you.” George muttered, refusing to accept the truth when his brain already knew it.

“Teenage girls aren’t the only ones who get lost in dreams and wake up wondering if they were real or not. I did that plenty of times after Paris.” “You dreamed of me?” My lips twitched. “Dreamed of you, saw you in places you weren’t, thought I was hearing your voice shout my name across the street.” His blue eyes pierced mine. “What? You never did that?” “Never.” “Liar.” “I didn’t!” He walked to me, his lips twisted in a smirk. “I don’t believe you.” “You don’t have to believe me.” I walked backward, holding my arms up. There was a hint of mischief in his eyes, one I recognised, one that sent promises of forever flooding through my body like they were whispered yesterday. “George.”

Elena heard his footsteps rushing toward them, and heard the panic in his voice. “STOP THIS!!” George shouted, storming towards them. He had finally found his voice. “This is insane! She’s my fiancée!” George continued “Elena, what are you doing? You can’t possibly…..” But George’s protests died mid-sentence. Elena glanced to see him frozen in the aisle, his face pale as he stared at Damien. Recognition and fear flickered across his face, and he slowly backed away. “D-Damien…”George whispered.

It seemed nonsensical, just as the dream itself had been unclear. George trudged on through the night, unsure of his path but certain of one thing: Lebotha would not be happy that he remained missing for so long. Returning with some juicy bit of information might earn her forgiveness, but first he had to determine if any of this was actually real or just a dream born from stress and exhaustion. George walked through the forest at night, hoping to find a road that would lead him home safely. All he could think about were the strange events- the prophecy of the moon marked girl, Esme sending him out and filling his head with these crazy ideas.

Cassandra knows loving him is wrong. He’s older. Forbidden. Her mother’s husband. She was hired to take care of him. She never expected to crave him. George’s touch ruins her innocence, his kiss burns through her rules— and right when Cassandra finally gives in, a single threat from her mother returns to tear everything apart.

George didn’t even flinch; he simply observed me, one eyebrow raised as if he was waiting for me to completely unravel. "You don’t understand," I said, my voice low and menacing. "She shouldn’t have left in the first place. If she truly loved me, she would’ve stayed. Choose me over some ambition." George’s laugh was sharp and devoid of humor. "You want a woman with no ambition? No dreams? Just a doll that remains where you place her? That’s what you’re implying?” "She’s my wife—"

I reassured him, feeling guilty for making the innocent guy look bad. He cleared his throat and pulled back. "Remember, Camila, don't get emotional about your progress. It will only prevent you from succeeding. Never pass up a better opportunity." George had good intentions, but his perseverance could be exhausting at times. I smiled and grabbed his hand. "Do you know what I want now?" He whispered into my ear, and I shook my head, hoping it was not sexual. "Your naked body above mine, bouncing on my cock," he whispered and kissed my neck, his stubble scratching my skin.

My heart raced, and I slipped my hand into my bag, my fingers closing around a small knife I carried for safety. As the figure drew closer, I whirled and pressed the blade to his throat. "It's me, Serena," he said. I paused, looking up to see Damian's face. Dark circles carved beneath his eyes, exhaustion etched into every line. His voice was soft, almost broken. "I'm sorry. Did I scare you?" "Sneaking at night is terrifying," I said, putting the knife away. "Here for me?" "Yes," he admitted. "I got the ring. You saved me back then, didn't you?"