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pinguwrites · 11 months ago

Note

Ooooh, what about this? Future!reader accidentally time traveled to 1940s when she met William Killick, and he had to take care of her due to injuries she had. She ended up staying with him while rejecting his advances because she was trying to find a way to go back to future, and it wouldn’t be fair to him if she were to accept his advances, but she didn’t know William was sabotaging the solutions to ensure she would stay with him forever.

THIS IS ABSOLUTELY WONDERFUL LIKE HOLY SHIT. I was about to write something like this with Tommy in Black Heart, but I opted out, and I hadn't even considered this with William, so I'm so glad you requested it!!

this was supposed to be a short-length fic lol, it's like the longest thing I've ever written on here

Home Is Where the Heart Is ⸻ William Killick

pairing | william killick x future!reader

summary | You don't think much of the box when it arrives at your front door. That is, until you open it and are transported decades into the past. There, you fall into the arms of a handsome soldier, who is intent on making you stay.

word count | 9k

Warnings: DUB-CON, possessive!william, future!reader, period typical sexism it's okay when it's william, reader has a software job, weird time travel plot (who knows how the box got there? it's totally not going to be revealed in part two ;) ), mentions of war, reader simps so hard, p in v sex, breeding kink

Disclaimer: The Edge of Love characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

A/N: I'm honestly not too proud with how rushed it was, but I'm glad it's out there. I'm definitely doing a part two. Be warned for errors.

You were lying in a field of grass, tall, bushy trees lining the area around you. You seemed to be in some type of countryside because in the distance you could faintly see quaint little houses and farmland (at least, you assumed it was; your vision was awfully blurry), but other than that, you had no clue as to where you were.

“Ah,” you hissed, noticing the cut on your body. When you arrived — however that happened — you had scrapped your arm on a sharp rock embedded in the dirt, and now it was bleeding, red blood trickling down your arm.

You sighed miserably, trying to make sense of the situation.

Yesterday, a packaged box arrived on your front doorstep. No address, no company, just a note in pen, To [Y/n] [L/n]. You were a little wary of its contents but brought it inside anyway. You opened it and uncovered a machine, steel and simple in its construction, yet difficult to understand. There was no instruction manual or labels for the buttons, and it took you a while to know if you were even looking at it right, the only hint being the Roman numerals inside the dials.

After tinkering around with it, you must have fallen asleep, because the next thing you knew, you were in a completely other place. All you had on were your clothes, some money, and your phone, which, surprise surprise, had no signal, so all you could do was look at your downloads — completely useless — and take a photo.

I must’ve been drugged, you thought, still feeling hazy. I should have called the cops the moment I realized something was off.

You got up and took off your socks, trying to stop the bleeding with it. It wasn’t the most hygienic, but it was all you had at the moment, and you weren’t about to tear off pieces of the shirt you had on, especially not when you were already shivering.

The contraption had traveled with you, and though you were aware it was the reason you were here in the first place, you thought it better to bring it along, as evidence. You could show it to the government, and they could use their little science ways to find the culprit. All would be fine.

All will be fine.

You started walking. You didn’t have any shoes on for protection, so it was difficult to step across the dirt, with all its rocks and insects swarming about, but you managed to get to grass quick enough, and it felt much better, almost healing to walk barefoot on the softness of mother nature.

But you didn’t get very far. Eventually, your stomach started grumbling, and you felt like your intestines were twisting inside with desperation. Your sock was now red, and your hand was trembling, so with a defeated sigh, you let go, of both the sock and the heavy machine, allowing the blood to flow freely. You bent over to pick the sock back up first, but the sudden movement made your head reel, and before you knew it, you were out again.

+++

“You’re awake,” a voice said, a male’s voice, a British accent that sounded like butter. Oh, butter, if you could get your hands on that alone you would be satisfied.

You opened your eyes, blinking. A figure, with pale skin and dark hair made it’s way over to you, and in a panic, you crawled away, eyes darting across the room. You were on a bed, bandages on your arm, but before you could calm down or even begin to think properly, panic took over, your heart rate elevated, and you sighed, before passing out again.

+++

For about the third time today, or however long you were out, you woke up. This time your vision was much clearer, but you still had this nasty migraine in your head. You were sick inside, the kind of sick that happens when you haven’t eaten in a while but can’t eat because you feel like you’ll throw up.

You wondered if you were in the same place again. You remembered a man, with a soothing voice, but he wasn’t here right now. Though the possibility that you had been kidnapped entered your mind, you noticed the lack of bonds and chains on your body. He was probably just helping you, you reasoned.

You slowly got out of bed, wincing at the shooting pain in your arm. You observed your surroundings. The bedroom was very minimalist, and . . . quirky. You loved the design and the materials used, as it reminded you of a cottage, but there was nothing helpful in sight. All the technology you could see, like the kitchen, needed to be updated and was worn out. There was some type of record player, or CD tape, or whatever that was called, on one of the counters and a radio beside it.

You didn’t bother with any of that. You were thirsty, throat dry and gnawing at you, so you went to look for water, hoping that whoever lived here didn’t go out and get it from a fucking well. He probably does. Look at this place!

“Shit!” you swore, your knees buckling from underneath you. You felt so weak and miserable and vulnerable. It hit you at this moment that you were probably a hundred miles away from home, in a strange place in a strange home you’d never seen before. How were you going to get back? What were you going to do?

Tears started welling in your eyes. You hated that you were being so emotional. Why couldn’t you toughen up and deal with the situation like a proper adult?

You leaned onto the counter, trying to balance yourself, when the front door opened up, and the man you saw before walked in, carrying a bag full of vegetables and other foods. He quickly placed the bag down and held you in his arms, his warmth comforting and relaxing.

He had short, dark hair, and a sharp jawline, and from this distance, you could see light freckles scattered across his cheeks. He had the most beautiful blue eyes you’d ever seen, like glaciers, like the ocean. Fuck, he was so handsome.

“Here,” he said, guiding you back to the bedroom. He set you down on the bed, gazing at you with such intensity, like adoration or devotion.

“W-who are you?” you asked, voice cracking. “Where am I? Hngh.” You rubbed your temples. Didn’t he have any pain medications?

“My name is William. William Killick,” the man introduced softly. “Don’t be scared, I’m not going to hurt you.” He went off into the kitchen and brought back a glass of water. You drank it slowly, the cool liquid flowing through your body, wetting your mouth. “I didn’t know if you had family nearby, so I took you to my place.”

William paused, as if thinking of what to say next. “Get more rest, it’s night.”

You hadn’t even noticed the time, but one look out the window told you he was right. It was pitch black outside.

“You’ll wake up tomorrow, and have some breakfast.”

You shook your head, and handed the glass back to him, only for him to set it down on the nightstand table. “Where’s my phone? Where’s my . . . box?”

He stared at you blankly, before clearing his throat. “Your stuff is in the back. I didn't know what it was — hey, don’t move.” William’s strong hands kept you in place, pushing you back down to the bed as gently as he could whilst still keeping a firm grip. “Rest,” he ordered. “Don’t need you fainting on me again.”

You wanted to argue, but you couldn’t. You laid your head on the pillow, without a choice but to trust William, and fell asleep, wrapping yourself in the blanket with a content sigh. All the questions you had, all the thoughts, faded away and were replaced by darkness.

+++

You dreamt of yourself and yourself. You, the spectator, were standing outside a window, but it wasn’t just any window. It was your window, the one that led to the inside of your bedroom, where you could see you and William — the strange man — entangled in the sheets. Lovers. You two were lovers. You two were making love.

Anyone would have felt creepy watching someone else, and anyone would have noticed someone watching them, but none of that happened. The sun should have cast a shadow on you, but it didn't. The passerby should have called you out, but they didn’t.

You had just enough awareness to realize that this was a dream. How were you back at home already? Why were you and William kissing?

While originally you felt nothing, like a simple observer without thoughts, you were suddenly flooded with heavy emotions. Confusion, shame, lust, confusion.

But in just a few moments, the world around you crumbled, like an earthquake, and the sun and moon passed by, stars moving across the heavens, and you were warped by time, back in the same place you were before.

+++

You woke up with a gasp, cold sweat running down your body, and immediately William was by your side. You rested your head on his chest, grasping onto his shirt desperately, not wanting him to leave.

“Shh, shh,” he cooed, running his fingers through your hair.

“Sorry,” you muttered, making no effort to leave his side. “I don’t know . . .”

“Shh.”

You both were like this for a while. Faint images of your dream passed through your mind, and from what little you remembered, you assumed it had been a wet dream.

I can’t believe it, you thought. Having a wet dream — about a guy I barely met. Control yourself!

You pulled away, already missing his warmth. William frowned a little but didn’t say anything. “What’s your name, darling?” he asked.

You hesitated.

“I told you, I’m not going to hurt you.”

“[Y/n],” you finally told him. “Where are we?”

William narrowed his eyes. You had a feeling he knew more than he was letting on, but you didn’t want to press.

“Wales,” William answered.

You froze. How the fuck did you get to Wales? What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck.

“Um, that’s nice,” you said awkwardly. “How long has it been since you found me?”

“A few days.”

You tried not to panic, but all you could think about was your job and your friends and your family. Have you been reported missing yet?

“You must be hungry,” William said. “I’ll cook something for you. I’m not the best, but I don’t want you to wear yourself out.”

“It’s alright.” You waved his concern off, though it did tug at your heartstrings that he was worried. “I'll get some fast food.”

You dug through your pockets, hoping your wallet was still in there. Thankfully it was. You pulled it out and grabbed two crisp twenty-dollar bills, but William hissed and pushed it back in, his hand not leaving yours.

“What are you doing carrying around that much money?” he asked, giving you an incredulous look. “How are you meant to protect yourself? Where’d you get that? Do you have a husband?”

You pushed his hand away. “I work. And what’s the problem?”

You knew that the American dollar wasn’t equivalent to a British pound, but was the difference that bad? Sure, forty dollars was a lot of money if you were just going to a gas station or something, but nothing to get excited over.

William huffed. “You can’t just show me that much money like that. What if I was a thief, hmm? What would you do then?”

“Are you?” you asked, not understanding why he was making such a big deal out of it.

“No. I’m a gentleman.”

You scoffed, amused, but there was a little smile on your face. “A gentleman?”

“Yes,” he insisted. “A proper man.”

There was a moment of silence between you both. You wanted him to hold you again, but you thought it would be best if you just went on your way.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” you said, getting up from the bed. “And bandaging me and all.” You gave him one of the bills. “I know it’s in dollars, but I’m sure you can convert it.”

William didn’t take the money. “You’re not leaving — you’re still hurt. I’d be remiss if I let a lass half as pretty as you alone on the streets.”

You chalked up his way of talking to the region. You honestly found it quite attractive. That, coupled with his British accent, made you feel like you were in one of those romance movies. You had to remind yourself that he wasn’t in love with you and that you were just acting irrational and horny.

“I’ll be fine. We’ll exchange numbers, do you have a charger?”

“What?”

“A phone charger. My phone’s probably dead.”

“The box?”

You narrowed your eyes. “No, the rectangle. The phone.”

“Ah, the one that glows?”

You briefly wondered if he simply didn’t know what a phone was. You knew some people preferred not to have modern technology in their life.

“Yes. I need to call someone — ”

“ — It stopped glowing.”

Great. William obviously didn’t have a charger. And if he didn’t know what it was, no one nearby would. All that was next to do would be to walk to a big city and hope someone there could help you get back home.

“Look, darling.” You ignored the way your heart fluttered when he called you that. “I don’t know what a phone is, or why you’re here, but I know that you still need to recover.”

“I appreciate it,” you said. “But I really have to go. I have work and — ”

“ — Surely you can take a day off. What is it you do?” William asked.

“I’m a software developer. I code.”

William had a blank face. A pink blush dusted his cheeks. He cleared his throat, “I, er, I’ve never heard of that. You mean computers? The big ones that take up a room?”

“No, it’s not the fifties.”

“Well, 1946 is close.”

You didn’t know what to make of that. “What does 1946 have to do with this?”

William observed you intently. “The year. The year is 1946.”

You blinked. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be the 20th century — that was impossible. So many things were wrong with that. How come it was you who traveled in time? Why didn’t the government know about this? Even if you were ignoring the question of how, there were still so many whys.

“No,” you said slowly, inching away from William. What kind of sick prank was this? He was supposed to be helping you, not confusing you. “You’re messing with me.”

William sensed that you were uncomfortable, because he backed away, his hands in the air. You could tell he was waiting for the perfect moment to get closer.

“I’m not a liar . . . Are you from the future?”

Fuck. You weren’t sure. How could that even be possible?

“No,” you said hesitantly. “I dunno, I must be . . .”

Your eyes subtly peered past William and at the door. If only you could get past him . . .

You looked straight at the window, making sure to grab his attention. “Oh,” you whispered, putting on your best shocked expression. The moment he was distracted you sprinted past him and bolted out of the room and out the house, running across the field to the next house you could see. Your arm still hurt, but you were willing to shove down the pain.

“No, no, please!” William shouted, running after you.

In just a minute, he had caught up to you and tackled you to the ground. He pinned your hands above your head and sat on your lower stomach, rendering you useless. His lips were so close to yours, and the look on his face was pissed.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice forceful, gripping onto your wrists tighter.

“P-please,” you pathetically sputtered out. “Don’t hurt me.”

He didn’t budge. “I’m trying to help you — I’m not lying to you, and I’m not going to hurt you.”

“You’re hurting me now,” you cried, squirming.

William’s eyes softened as he realized what he was doing. “You promise not to run again?”

You nodded, your lower lip wobbling.

“Alright.”

He still didn’t let go of you, but he did pull you up from the ground, wiping the dirt off of your back. Tears flowed down your cheek like rainwater, and you couldn’t help but curl in on yourself.

William held onto your arm as he walked you back to the house, not allowing you another chance of escape, but he did wipe your tears gently and soothe you. You felt embarrassed. Why did you run? You had acted purely on instinct there. This man was clearly only trying to help.

“Look,” he said softly, sitting you back down on the bed like a child. “I’ll take you into town, hmm? Show you around and all — maybe that’ll convince you. You must be quite far into the future to be dressing like that and to have a . . . phone with you, so things will be different, right? What year are you from?”

“. . . 2023.”

“I knew it. On your phone, there was a date. I wasn’t sure then, but . . .” William suddenly reached his hands up and rubbed his thumb across your chapped lips, catching you off guard. “They’re dry,” he said. “I’ll draw up a bath for you so you can bathe while I cook. I’ll get you some lotion afterward.”

You nodded. What else could you do?

+++

William had cooked some simple fish and chips while you cleaned yourself. You had to use a tin tub, which was insane to you, but you didn’t complain about it. He supplied you with clothing, an old-fashioned dress his mother had accidentally left here. You were grateful it was not from some ex-girlfriend or wife, even though you had no right to feel that way. You put aside your other clothes to wash later.

After finishing with that, you sat down at the dining table, and like the hungry girl you were, you gobbled the food down eagerly. It was so fresh and delicious, not at all like the food you had in the future, pumped with chemicals and artificially bred. You tried to be as neat as you could, but it was difficult when you were starving. William had watched on with amusement, telling you to slow down and straighten your back every once in a while.

He took the plates away when you both were done, and then did as he promised and gave you some lotion, but instead of letting you apply it, he took a bit of cream on his fingers and rubbed it on your lips. “Stay still,” he murmured.

“I-I can do it—”

“No, you can’t. You’re still injured.”

You understood his reasoning. And you didn’t mind him touching you like that.

“The rest of my body is dry, too,” you blurted out.

What were you thinking? You didn’t even know this man. Trying to get him to touch the rest of your body — stupid girl.

William’s breathing hitched. “As in . . . your knees as well?”

“. . .”

He cleared his throat. “Well, then. Put them out, over my lap.”

You bit your lower lip, watching on as he rubbed his hands over your legs. His touch was so warm and it felt more like a massage. You felt bad about doing this, leading him on. If he was right about the time travel, then you couldn’t entertain any sort of relationship with him. It wouldn’t be fair.

But it was just an act of service. It didn’t mean much, right?

“Oh, that’s nice,” you said, resting your head on the bed. You felt a bit off allowing a random man to do this to you, but he wasn’t random now, was he? He had saved you. And besides, he was he who insisted he rub the lotion in the first place.

“What is the future like?” William asked. “Is there another war?”

“Sort of. Not really,” you answered, which panicked William. “Don’t worry. If you’re talking about America and Russia, no one dies.”

William chuckled. “I should hope not. I don’t fancy serving in another world war.”

“You served?” you asked curiously.

“Yes. As a captain in the British Army.”

You supposed it was normal. Most men in this time either signed up for the military or were drafted. You couldn’t imagine the horrors William must have gone through. You would never be able to understand the trauma he carried with him. You were curious, but you knew better than to ask. He didn’t need your pity, and you certainly didn’t want to offend him.

“I’m sorry,” you said.

“For what?”

“That it had to happen. War and all that.”

“Does war not happen in the future?”

Now you felt a little stupid.

“Well — yes. It does. I’m just sorry. We learned about the world wars in history — and I just — I’m not claiming to know anything. Yeah, sorry.” You looked down.

William didn’t say anything to that. He just kept rubbing your dry skin. Afterward, he put the lotion away and sat next to you, running his fingers through your hair.

“I expect stories from you. I want to hear everything about the future.”

You still didn’t believe you were in the past, at least, not completely.

“You can tell me as we pass through town,” he added.

“I need to wash my clothes first.”

Willian narrowed his eyes. “You’re not going to wear that anymore.”

“Why not?”

He pursed his lips. “It’s too revealing. A woman should never go out wearing those types of clothing.” He sighed. “Perhaps it’s different in the future, but here, you’ll get hurt if you dress like that.” He continued playing with your hair. “I want you to be safe. So, you have to promise me that you’ll stay by my side at all times, yes?”

You nodded. You always thought that if you caught men talking to you like this, you would slap them, but here you were, turned on by William’s sexism. It was different, you reasoned. He was more focused on protecting you than restricting you. Was it bad that you found that hot?

“Good girl,” he said proudly. “Good girl.”

+++

Walking through town had been more of a frightening experience than you expected. You realized, without a shadow of a doubt, that you were indeed in the past. Producing a prank with this level of investment and money was pointless, and you never had any mental issues in the past, so why would one suddenly show up now? And even if it did, you couldn’t possibly be imagining this all in your head.

All the cars were shiny and new, yet old models, ones that wouldn’t be produced in the future. All the women and men wore traditional clothing, like the dress William picked out for you. The hairstyles were medium-length and curled, or slicked back, with lots of gel and products used to keep them in place. You were grateful William didn’t ask you to do any of that. Not that you would have let him. At a certain point, you would have drawn a line.

“I have to get back,” you told William as you walked on a trail. “The machine has something to do with it. I just have to figure out how it works.”

“That’s an engineering job,” he pointed out.

“I’m good at math and science. I work in advanced technology, so I should be able to figure something out. All it needs is a bit of testing . . . I was wondering if I could stay with you for a while until I figure out a place to stay. I’ll give you all the money I have and I promise I’ll find a job — ”

“ — No need. Stay as long as you like. I don’t want your money. I won’t stop you from finding a job, but it’s not necessary. I can handle any expenses.”

You didn’t argue with him. He didn’t seem averse to the idea of letting a stranger stay at his place. It made sense. People in this time were more hospitable and open (at least, when they felt like it), and William, being a man from the forties, would never allow you to carry any of the financial burden.

You still felt a little bad.

“Thank you. It means a lot to me. Now, what is it you want to hear about the future?”

William’s eyes lit up excitedly. “Do flying cars exist?”

You chuckled. “No. But we have self-driving ones.”

“Self-driving? How do they work?”

You paused. You had no idea. “I’m not sure. They probably have sensors to detect other cars. And, well, there’s a map. So it’s connected to a satellite . . .”

“Satellite?”

“It’s this thing in space. It does . . . stuff. It’s manmade.”

“Space? Have we discovered alien life?”

“No. But we have sent rovers to Mars and we’ve landed a person on the moon.”

William stopped walking. “The moon?” he repeated, bewildered. “Have you gone?”

I wish. “It’s only for astronauts. You have to be trained for that sort of stuff.”

“And when did this all happen?”

“Around the 1960s. There was a space race between America and Russia, and America won.”

Once you got the ball rolling, William would not stop asking questions. You answered them as best as you could and avoided topics like the current political climate and weaponry and all that. After he was done with all the serious stuff, like advancements in science and whether robots had taken over the world yet, he moved on to more social and cultural topics. You were relieved to find out that he wasn’t racist or homophobic or incredibly misogynistic. If anything he was rather tame about it all, and was glad that women had earned more rights, though he seemed upset that the dynamic of a gentlemanly husband and lady-like housewife wasn’t pushed upon society.

“There’s nothing wrong with things going the opposite way around,” he had said. “Two people of the same gender marrying. It’s only that women need to be looked after, and if she doesn’t want to work, then it is her man’s obligation to do it for her. And in return, she must be obedient and serve him whenever he pleases — whether it’s by cleaning the house or . . . other things.”

“And what if she doesn’t want it?” you questioned, referring to the other things.

“A man should always make sure she likes it.”

You could practically feel all the feminism leaving your body at that.

The conversation ended when you reached back home (home? It’s not your home, you reminded yourself). William replaced your bandages with care. You were already starting to feel better, since the cut wasn’t too big, and you offered to help with cooking dinner this time.

After that, you decided to tinker with the box.

It was made out of some type of metal, with two different dials on the top and a button on the side. But it wasn’t like anything you’d ever seen before. The first dial went from zero to nine (zero being nulla) in Roman numerals, and had four hands, each of them colored in order: red, green, blue, and yellow. Respectively, there were four tiny colored knobs on the side, like the ones by a watch, where you could move each hand. The other dial was the same case.

“It must be the date,” you said aloud to yourself. “But which is which?”

Taking a gamble, you pressed the button, but it didn’t do anything. All it did was signal a small lens to start blinking red.

“Are you sure you should do that now?” William asked, coming up from behind you. “Look at this.” He crouched to your level on the floor. “Your eyes have bags underneath them. You’re still tired.”

You rubbed the area beneath your eyes. Did they really have bags? You hadn’t realized.

“I should probably go to sleep then,” you said, putting the box down and getting up.

William walked you over to the bedroom, and was about to leave when you asked, “Where are you sleeping?”

“The couch.”

You frowned. “It’s your house and I’m your guest. You’ve already done so much for me – ”

“— If you’re going to suggest you sleep on the couch, then it’s a no. That’s final.”

“But — ”

“ — Final.”

You sighed. “Then come sleep with me. I’ll stay on the floor—”

“ — No—”

“ — Then we can share the bed. We’ll put a wall of pillows between us, like this.” You grabbed a pillow and placed it in the middle of the bed, separating the two sides. “Not so bad, see?”

William relented. “Alright.”

He crawled into bed with you. His hair fell over his face as he adjusted, and the last rays of sunlight coated his body in colors of orange and yellow. If your phone wasn’t dead, you would have asked him to sit still for a picture, because at this moment, he truly looked breathtaking. He was a beautiful man. You wondered if he knew it.

“What?” William asked when he noticed you staring.

Flustered, you turned your head to look up at the ceiling. “Nothing. I was just making sure you were comfy.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see William lick his lower lip.

“You’re a sweet lass,” he commented. “You always think about others first.”

He reached over, and for a moment, you thought he was going to kiss you (which, admittedly, despite having had a wet dream about him, scared you), but he only brushed a small speck of dust off your shoulders and murmured “Goodnight”, before burying his chin into the blanket and drifting off into sleep.

You followed in suit soon after. A part of you was hoping that you could start a life here. You’d buy a nice house and live out a simple and peaceful life. You and William didn’t even have to be romantically involved. You could just be friends, and you would be happy with that.

But a part of you also hoped that when you woke up the next morning you would be back in your own bed, in your small one-story house that you remember being so excited about buying. You knew you would never like living here in the long term. There were too many things wrong with this time and you didn’t want to be the brunt of its issues. Not only that but being aware of all the tragedies that would soon occur . . . Did you want to be faced with the moral dilemma of whether or not you should stop them? How would your presence affect things in the future? After living your whole life in 2023, you could never adjust to life in 1946.

You had to find a way back. There was simply no other choice.

+++

William showed you many things. Just as he was interested in the future, you were interested in the past. The things that excited you most of all were old-school versions of what you had in the future. Washing machines, refrigerators — they were all so different, yet the same, and it was fascinating.

You even met a few people in town. They were nice enough to hold a conversation with, though they found it weird that you lacked decorum and the social understanding of the time. The women were chatty and mildly passive-aggressive, and the men — well, the men flirted with you quite openly.

William had told people that you were family, someone related but not close enough to be bothered with technical terms like cousin or niece. No one asked questions when you two explained it like that. All the men must have thought that if you were his family and that if you had no ring on your finger you must be looking for a partner.

You were charmed by their advances, but never serious about them. Besides, William hardly let them get a word in before he shooed them away.

By the time weeks and weeks had passed you became acquainted with everyone, seen every sight to see — including the swan lake William took you to — and become close enough to William that he opened up to you. You learned that while he wasn’t an orphan, his parents never held much interest in him other than the occasional birthday letter, and the reason he came out here so far away from the city was to find peace of mind.

You grew to admire him, and you were sure he grew to admire you, too. And soon, you started to feel a certain type of way. A way that made you daydream about all the things that could be, only for reality to stomp across it and remind you of the harsh truth.

+++

William was driving a car, a modern car, your car. He was humming a little tune on the radio, singing some lyrics, hands loosely holding the wheel as he passed by a gas station. It was some Taylor Swift song, and you remember faintly thinking: Of course, he likes Taylor Swift.

He looked over to you. You were sitting by his side, a passenger princess, looking out the window. All of a sudden it was night and you two were driving down a lonely road, parking by the side of some lake. In the distance, you could hear crickets and ribbits, but you paid them no mind.

You were curled up in William’s arms, looking out the sunroof of the car, the light of the moon gently descending through the glass. You offered him a piece of chocolate, and you two just sat there, in the dark, nibbling on snacks and observing the sky, until you woke up.

+++

William had to leave for work, like usual. He again told you not to leave his property line or stray out too far, which, again, was fine by you because most days were cold and bitter.

You spent your time messing around with the box, careful not to touch the wires in the back. Once you put your mind to it, you figured out how it worked. You paid attention to where the hands were currently located and found something promising. The first dial’s hands had the numbers I, IX, IV, and VI, and the second dial was nulla, IX, nulla, and V. Alone, you wouldn’t have been able to tell what the numbers meant, but with context, you understood. The first dial was the year, and the second one was the month and date.

You didn’t quite understand how the box brought you from the future, but that didn’t matter, as it was broken. There was a little loose piece on the backside that had been damaged — a little dent, probably when you were first transported here. All you had to do was plug it back in, but the only problem was, you didn’t have a screwdriver, and you certainly weren’t going to wrench your fingers near a bunch of wires.

When William came back you told him your solution. He agreed and said that tomorrow he would take you to a local store to buy a screwdriver, and he even apologized for not having one in his house. But for now, he said he wanted to take you out to lunch.

“Lunch?” you questioned nervously. Was he asking you out on a date?

You thought about it for a moment. You did want to go, but your mind was too preoccupied with getting back to your time. Besides, it wasn’t fair to him. You did like him, but you two could never actually be together. It was all in your head.

It’s all in your head.

“You know I’ll have to go back someday,” you said, watching William’s expression become more neutral as if he was hiding his emotions. “I dunno . . . I’m getting a little attached to you,” you said with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

William seemed to understand where you were going with this. “It won’t be like that. I wouldn’t blame you,” he said earnestly, taking a step forward. “We ought to enjoy our time together, while it’s still here.”

He made a valid point, enough to convince you. He had been doing that an awful lot. Convincing you.

William took you out to a nice restaurant. The food was a bit plain, but it was good and wholesome. It reminded you a lot of William’s cooking, only fancier and more well-presented. Not only that, but the atmosphere felt calming and almost romantic. You noticed that most of the people here were couples, holding hands and giggling with each other, however young or old.

Was this William’s intention? Did he like like you? Or was this just him being courteous? You couldn’t imagine that many people here were used to dating or one-night stands. But you wouldn’t know unless you asked him, and you were too nervous to do that. Besides, you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself. William was a very traditional man, would he even want a woman like you? A 21st-century girl?

After you two were finished eating you engaged in another walk.

“Come closer,” William said, holding out his arm for you to take. If you didn’t have any self-control, you would have jumped his bones right then and there. He was right. He was a gentleman. No man in the future would have done this for you unless they were trying to make a joke out of it.

You placed your hand on William’s arm hesitantly, trying to figure out the exact placement, walking side by side with him. It was a little cold, however, and you shivered, catching William’s attention almost instantly.

“Oh, you poor thing,” William cooed, talking of his coat and wrapping it around you. It smelled of him, a little musky, smoky like a cigarette, but in a very subtle way. “You’re so nervous. Have you never had a man do this for you?” he asked. “Hold out his arm for you to take, give you his coat?”

“No,” you admitted. “Men don’t do that in the future.”

“I do,” he said, stopping both of you in your tracks. The area was secluded, mostly covered in trees and bushes, far away from any passerby. “I would do that for my woman.”

It was quiet for a moment.

“Well,” you said, wistfully, “whoever she is she’ll be a lucky woman.”

+++

William took you to a local shop to buy a screwdriver next. It all felt very domestic, something that you could get used to. You imagined running errands like this with William in the future. He would be absolutely fascinated by a grocery store, by the internet, by everything. If you thought hard, you could see it — a wondrous smile on his face, a giggle escaping his lips.

You tried not to think of it that much. After your fantasy passed your thoughts turned sad and cold, because you knew that would never happen. It will never happen. As much as you liked William, you missed your family, you missed your house, you missed everything.

When you both got back home, you plugged the broken piece in and screwed the nail. William watched on beside you, a frown on his face, drinking some tea.

“Here,” he said, inching closer, “I don’t want you exerting pressure on your arm. Let me do it.”

He grabbed a hold of the screwdriver, but he bumped into you in the process. With a gasp, he dropped his cup of tea. It shattered across the floor, glass pieces flying every, hot liquid (thankfully not boiling) splashing all over. You shrieked and backed away, watching as one of the glass shards cut right through one of the wires.

“William!” you snapped, but then your eyes turned watery, because of the cut on your hand.

He immediately went over to you, careful not to step on any glass, and picked you up bridal style, moving you away from the mess and towards the couch.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed out, looking panicked. “It was an honest mistake — I’m so so sorry, I can’t believe I just did that — are you hurt?”

You laughed at the absurdity of it all, even though you were clutching your finger in pain. It was a very small cut, something that would be healed within a day. “Calm down, William. I’m fine. Are you hurt?”

He shook his head, looking worried, or perhaps, scared was the right word. Yet, you couldn’t figure out why.

“William,” you said slowly. “It’s fine. You do realize we can just fix the wire? I just need a heat-shrinking tube and a soldering iron, nothing I haven’t done before.”

“. . . Oh.”

His tone made you wonder about his intentions. You’d been so caught up on how good of a person he was, helping you and giving you room and food, but really, what was his motive? Because it almost felt like he was trying to get you to stay . . . It sent a sinister feeling down your spine, albeit a tug on your heartstrings as well.

What do you want from me, William? What do you want?

+++

More time had passed. It was difficult to acquire things in this small town, and it occurred to you that such resources were not readily available at this time. You didn’t want to bother William by pestering him to go into the city for materials, so while you would bring up the topic every once in a while, you mostly kept quiet.

You took the chance to relish your break. After all, you weren’t working. It was like a fully paid vacation, so you might as well take advantage of it.

William still had a job, but when he came back, you two would just talk and talk and talk, conversations so smoothly flowing that it felt like you’d known him for years. When you weren’t talking, you were still in each other’s presence, doing your own thing. Occasionally, William would make sneaky moves like wrap his arm around your shoulder, or do the la bise. He claimed he was part French, and it was part of his custom, but even if that were true, you knew the la bise didn’t involve full-on smooches on the cheek.

You never stopped him from doing things like that, but you also never reciprocated, despite how badly you wanted to. All this stalling wouldn’t change the fact that you still had to leave. Not only that, but you were starting to feel homesick.

You missed calling your friends late at night, you missed watching colored TV, and you missed hot showers. You missed easy-access painkillers for your periods, and searching all your queries on the internet. You missed the future. Badly. And you could just feel that the day of return was near.

+++

“You dance, yes?”

Snapped out of your thoughts, you turned to William. You were both lounging on his couch, relaxing, talking, as the time passed by. He had given you a magazine to read, but you weren’t reading it, just dozing off.

You shrugged. “Yeah. I’ve gone to clubs. But — no, I can’t dance like that — William,” you whined, half-heartedly struggling as he pulled you up to you feet. “I’m going to ruin it, I don’t know where to place my feet or — ”

“ — You could never ruin anything, darling. Your presence alone is enough to satisfy me.”

You looked away. “You can’t say things like that, William.”

“Why not?”

You took his hands off you before he could even start the music.

“I don’t like it,” you lied.

William frowned. “That’s alright. Let me hold you. I know you enjoy that.” He chuckled. “When we first met you wouldn’t let go of me.”

The memory, still fresh in your mind, made you flustered.

“. . . William, what do you want from me?” you decided to ask.

He furrowed his eyebrows. “What do you mean?”

“I mean — what do you want from me?”

William licked his lower lip. “Nothing. I just want to take care of you.”

“But why?”

You could practically feel William’s nervousness. It was like when he dropped that glass. He radiated an almost jumbled energy, a desperate energy.

“Haven’t I made it more obvious?” he finally said, his hands on your waist. He brought his fingers up to brush the hair out of your face. “Am I not clear?”

You knew what he was going to say. But you wanted to hear it from him. “Clear about what?”

“I want you.” Your heart started beating. “I don’t care if you’re not from this time. I don’t care if you have a life in the future — I can be better. I can be your life.”

“. . . William.”

“Don’t take that tone with me,” he said, tilting your chin up so you could look him in the eyes. “I know you want me too. I can see it.”

“But we can’t,” you weakly protested.

“So is this what you do?” His tone grew more sharp. “Imagine things in your head and never act on them?”

You stayed silent. He was putting you in such a difficult position, couldn’t he see that?

“What’s wrong?” he continued. “Am I not good enough?”

“William,” you tried to pull away. “I have to go — ”

He locked you in his arms. Your body was so close your noses were brushing up against each other, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “Maybe you’re worried I can’t please you right.”

You could have shouted. Why was he being so forceful? You ignored the way your body grew warm — you couldn’t do this. You couldn’t and so you wouldn’t.

“I don’t want it,” you lied again.

“Well, I told you, a wife should always submit to her husband’s desires.”

“We’re not married!”

“We will be.”

You froze.

William took your silence as an opportunity. He leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours, turning his head slightly as his hand rested on the back of your head. You were caught off guard but didn’t try to push away. It felt so nice, and warm and inviting. Why you were denying yourself this? Why were you denying yourself love?

When your lips parted, a string of saliva connecting you both, you placed your hands on his chest. You had an idea. A brilliant idea. Why hadn’t you thought of this before? “William. I still have to go, but — ”

He growled and lifted you up, carrying you over to his bedroom, tossing you onto the bed, and pinning you down on the mattress. “No. I won’t let you. I won’t let you! Don’t you understand? I’m perfect for you — I can — I can.” He looked miserable. In fact, he looked like he was about to cry. “Let me show you,” he said, determined. He started unbuckling his belt with one hand. “Let me show you what I can do.”

You hadn’t realized how hard William was, but when he finally took out his cock — fat and pale, with pre-cum leaking at the tip, his balls a little hairy, you gulped, the area between your legs getting wetter.

“Take off your panties,” he ordered. “And lift up that damn dress.”

You didn’t. To be honest, you were a little frightened by his behavior.

William sighed and did it for you, spreading your legs apart, only for you to shut them close. “You don’t even have a condom!”

“I’ll put out,” he said impatiently, forcing your legs apart again. You gasped, not expecting contact to be made so soon.

He rubbed his cock against your wet cunt, soaking himself. He had this satisfied smile on his face, eyes closed for just a moment, before he looked down at you.

“I thought I’d have to warm you up a little,” he said. “You’re beau — stop it! Don’t struggle.”

He held your arms down as you writhed. “Please, William — I believe you,” you said. “You can fuck me good. Just listen — ”

William shook his head. “You’re the one who's supposed to listen. Listen and take it.”

With that, he pushed his cock in and started thrusting, hard and fast, your hands still pinned, his face contorted in pleasure. His moans were loud and shameless. He had his head right above yours, peppering small kisses on your lips. You tried to ignore how good it felt — him inside of you, but it was becoming increasingly difficult by the moment.

“Ah, I knew you weren’t a virgin,” he said, noticing the lack of blood or discomfort. “That’s okay — I still love you.”

“Love?” you repeated, trying to focus, but your abilities were lost when he used his thumb to rub your clit. “Wa-a-it!”

“Don’t say that,” William said, his tone surprisingly soft given how rough his movements were. “I wouldn’t be doing this if I thought you didn’t want it. Just enjoy. Enjoy me.”

The bed was starting to creak, moving back and forth, rubbing up against the wood floor. Your breasts were bouncing, catching William’s eyes every once in a while. His cock slid in and out of you with precision, hitting that swollen part inside of you every time. His thumb on your clit only added to the intense sensation.

Your eyes fluttered shut, and you stopped struggling. You let your head hit the pillow, mouth parted, breathing heavy and hot. At the same time, you were overcome with a feeling of hurt. You couldn’t deny that you wanted it, but for him to take you so forcibly . . . and for you to actually like it . . .

“Are you alright?” he asked, slowing down his pace a little. He looked you in the eyes. “Do you feel good?”

You thought about lying, about crying out No, please stop!, but that wasn’t the truth, and in the end, your desires overcame you. “Y-yes. I want more.”

William relaxed, and his grip on you loosened. He placed one hand on your hip, the other by the side of your head.

“You’re beautiful,” he praised. “Every day I look at you and think of how grateful I am that I found you. Laying there in that field, little flowers around you. An angel. My angel.”

You wanted to tell him how grateful you were, too. That it was him who took you in and not someone else, but the words never came out, only sighs and moans, but he seemed to understand what you were trying to say.

Another kiss.

“You’re soaking me. You’re soaking the sheets.”

A little embarrassed, you turned your head. “M’sorry.”

William forced you to look back at him. “Don’t be sorry. I like knowing how eager you are for me.”

Another kiss, but this time he slipped his tongue in, sweeping against yours before he pulled away, a string of saliva breaking as he did.

“We’ll live here,” he continued, his thrusts becoming more erratic, “in this house. Together. I’ll take you to the movies, we’ll have picnics in the garden, and I’ll write you love songs on the piano. We’ll have children — a girl, I hope — and she’ll look just like you. It’ll be wonderful,” he promised. “I’ll make you so happy, and you’ll make me happy, too.”

You couldn’t help but ruin the moment. “If I did that I would never see my parents again.”

He frowned and didn’t say anything. Then, “I think you’re getting agitated. You need to come, that’s it. You need to come and then you’ll finally understand what it is you’ll be missing out on if you leave.”

“T-that’s not the point — ”

“ — I’m so close,” he murmured. “Fill you up, so damn tight. Ah, you’re perfect.”

When you realized what he meant your eyes widened and you shook your head adamantly. “You said you’d pull out!”

“That was before. I’ve changed my mind.”

You felt familiar pressure build up inside of you. You could imagine yourself, breasts big with milk, belly round and smooth, William reading children’s books to your unborn baby as if he could be heard. The thought alone made you sickly sweet, the idea that life between you and him could be so domestic.

But couldn’t he just wait for a moment?

“I’ll — ah — be with you — every step of the way,” he grunted. “I won’t leave you. So, don’t be scared.”

“William,” you said shakily. “Just listen — ”

But it was too late. Collapsing on top of you, William poured his hot seed inside your cunt, his whimper addicting, like it was something you could hear a thousand times over. A few seconds later, you fell victim to the same fate, and there you two lay, with each other, chests heaving, bodies sweaty and sticky, coming down from the heights of ecstasy.

You could feel his heart pound against yours. Thump, thump, thump. And you could feel yours as well. To think that this man had just gotten you pregnant. It all happened so quickly. It happened so quickly and you were completely fine with it.

“William,” you said after finally catching your breath, turning to face him. “You know I still have to go.”

It was his turn to cry. His tears watered up, glassy, his lower lip trembling, but you could tell he was doing his best to keep it in. “But I love you,” he whispered. “Am I not enough?”

It broke your heart to see him like this. So vulnerable in front of you. It was then you knew you were making the right choice, a hundred percent. You had finally found your match. And to think that you almost let him go . . .

“But I want you to come with me,” you said, hopeful. “Come with me, William. Come with me to the future.”

Taglist: @henrywintersdearestgirl @shroombloom-rry @meetmeatyourworst @mrkdvidal1989 @madnessandobsession @slut4thebroken @qqquartz7 @madeinuk

#william killick #william killick x reader #william killick x you #william killick x y/n #cillian murphy #fanfiction #the edge of love #pinguwrites

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georgies-ftts · 2 years ago

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I love the CourtSorcerer!Merlin depictions where he’s wearing deep blue regal robes that fit him perfectly with dark trousers and leather boots that aren’t falling apart and his hair is longer and bushy and crowns his head perfectly

and Arthur believes he’s is a god sent to him by some omnipotent power and looks at him like he’s his entire world but still treats him as if he is the lanky manservant that he met all those years ago but the moment they are alone together he worships the ground that Merlin walks on and let’s his emotions fall from his face like a rain because he knows that Merlin, no matter what, can always tell what’s going through his mind

And Arthur gives Merlin a crown of silver that matches his robes perfectly, and the crown is a laurel that circles his hair and doesn’t meet in the front so his hair protrudes out and Arthur wants to play with the strands but he holds himself back and only stares because that’s all he can do without reaching his hand out to do something that the court would definitely shun him for later on

and Arthur watches as Merlin’s eyes glow molten gold and he declares it as his favourite colour and Arthur allows himself to see Merlin as he truly his, the other half of the same coin, half of his soul, his sorcerer. The man that waltz into camelot all those years ago and challenged him with gusto, the one that stood by his side through every challenge, every battle, that saved his life countless times without ever seeking any form of appraisal and Arthur stands in awe as Merlin’s power throttles onwards and Arthur let’s it happen with a smile ghosting his face because his Merlin, despite everything he was taught to believe, would never ever hurt him and now i’m just writing my own fanfiction from everything that i love but i devour it every. single. time.

#merthur #merlin headcanons #merlin #bbc merlin #arthur pendragon #merlin x arthur #bbc arthur #court sorcerer #king arthur #court sorcerer merlin #merlin fandom #merlin fanfic #ao3

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junipers-insects · 10 months ago

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Hello! I'm Junipers or Bear I guess and this blog is dedicated to my insects! I love to examine them under a microscope and dissecting them.

[ But seriously. This side blog was made so I can get all of this built up Undertale AU multiverse stuff that I've been suppressing for years now, out of my system. In other words I wanted to draw two Sanses making out. (←I've done that only ONCE) ] ((← This whole thing is being contained for future purposes))

Here's my main blog @junipers-popatochisps Not much is there, just rebloggin'... BUT I ALSO LIKE/FOLLOW/SEND ASKS THROUGH THIS BLOG just so you know

Aaand non utmv art blog: @stones-unturned

Bluesky: 🩵

I speak Eng/Rus/and a secret third thing

I'm an Aroace Lesbian and Genderqueer [They/He] and [Clown/Clownself]

Junibears

Proshippers, zoozs, zionists and alike dni . Also even if you're proship tolerant still dni ( I should also clarify that I am in no way or shape encouraging anyone to harass proshippers. I'm very much anti-harassment)

This is just for me

Oc master list!!!!!!!

Pattern! Sans [ 1 ]

Euka!Sans (SciFell Ship child) [ 1 / 2 ]

[more oc's incoming...]

I also write fanfiction!

The Lost Light - a Disney's "Tangled" inspired Cross x Dream fic [ongoing]

Nwm i was being too dramatic here's my first fic back

That's all I think 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️🏴‍☠️

(also here's the nsfw blog @bushy-bug )

#utmv #undertale au #sans au #utau

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angel-of-the-moons · 7 months ago

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A Rose Under The Moon

Moon Knight System (Marc, Steven, Jake) x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: None literally just filler lmao

A/N: YOU GUYS I AM SO SORRY IT IS TAKING ME SO LONG TO PUT STUFF OUT LIFE IS JUST... IT'S BEEN INSANE THE PAST FEW MONTHS

Taglist: @bad4amficideas @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @shirukitsune @lokisremainingsanity @mundivagantsoul @furblrwurblr @zoleea-exultant @latenightcravingz @daygirl26 @thelastemzy @leahnicole1219 @marsmallow433 @crazyunsexycool @oscarissac2099 @littlenosoul @animechick555 @capsiclesworldsblog @cloudroomblog @lov3vivian @princessakirika @fog-sama @cheshire-salvatore-mikaelson @badbishsblog @lillycore555 @stardream14 @kittenlover614 @patchesofwork @enheduannasposts

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

Chapter 11:

Good Food And Cat Fuzz

Jake grinned at you as you shuffled about your kitchen, chittering about some interesting things you’d read about the other day on some ancient ruin that was found in Greece because of a construction site. It was difficult to summon the interest in the subject, the overwhelming love of history and ancient cultures that Steven had, but he let you talk nonetheless.

His eyes softened as you carefully sliced the pork tenderloin and drizzled the sauce over it. Even uncooked, the thing smelt heavenly. Maybe letting you volunteer him for this little dinner wasn’t such a bad idea, after all.

Steven was an amazing cook, yes, but not being able to really indulge in animal products left Jake’s cooking skills a little stagnant; because Jake refrained from buying groceries that might upset him.

Steven assured him that, yes, he understands that they all have different dietary preferences, that it was no reason to ��neglect himself”. But, his concerns were never really on himself. The focus was on Marc, Steven, other people… you.

His thought bubble was popped when Puck mewed and just casually hopped up into his lap with a purr.

He grinned down at the black feline and began stroking her fur, “Hey, chiquita. Cozy, I see?”

Puck purred louder in response, leaning into his touch; her little body relaxed and oh-so-casual. She was possibly one of the friendliest little cats he’d ever encountered.

He didn’t notice when you had ceased your adorable rambling, leaning with your arms on the countertop, the pork forgotten for the moment as you slowly smiled at Jake; his arms curving gently to let Puck crawl into his embrace, rubbing her cheek on his shirt, her purr so loud you could hear it from where you were standing.

He murmured a conversation with Puck for a good minute or two, Puck giving little “mrrp’s” or “muh’s” in reply, as if she was genuinely speaking with him back.

“Mhmm,” You could hear him softly mutter. “Yes, oh, yes. I know. Life is so very tough for someone who doesn’t have to pay taxes.” Puck mewed a bit louder.

“Si, si, carino.” He grinned, his bushy mustache quirking up. You had to admit, he was… handsome. Sweet. The beard he was growing suited him nicely, as well. Puck put her front paws on his chest and sniffed his chin.

“What? No, I know you don’t pay taxes, you little felon…”

Puck smashed her head into his mouth with an affectionate purr, making him laugh and tip his head to avoid getting a mouth full of cat fur. And, doing so, he realized that you were watching him.

Watching him with that beautiful, sweet smile of yours.

“Oh, don’t mind me!” You giggled as his tanned skin flushed with embarrassment and you make a shoo’ing gesture. “You two sound like you were having a riveting conversation!”

Jake looked off to the side and coughed into his hand. “Well, animals benefit from, uh, conversation. I read online that, uh… it’s good for… stimu… lation..." He struggled.

You laugh once again and turn to place the tenderloin into your oven to cook. “Oh, yes, Puck over there is quite the conversationalist.”

As if to agree with you, Puck meowed loudly, making you both chuckle.

The abashed glow on Jake’s cheeks dulls a bit as he shakes his head. “She… is.”

“She seems taken with you.” You smile, walking over to the duo and stroking behind one of Puck’s ears.

Standing so close, Jake could smell your perfume–a sweet, sugary smell that blended with the spices of your cooking. God, it was intoxicating. He wished he could pull you against him and kiss you–

“Wanna sit on the couch while dinner cooks? I’d sit with you at the table but the chairs are sooooo uncomfy.” You say, knocking his thoughts back to reality.

Jake coughs, almost concerned for a moment that maybe you might pick his train of thought out of thin air and call him out on it. He reaches up and scratches his hairy upper lip with one finger, “Oh. Sure.”

Puck mewed and squeaked when Jake cradled her in one arm and let you lead the way to your couch (as if he couldn’t see it from where he had been sitting previously).

You chuckled at how attached to Jake Puck seemed to be, and literally hopped onto your couch cushions, Puck expertly clambering out of Jake’s arms to walk along the back of the couch, staring up at him expectantly, as if to say, “Come on! Sit!”

He shook his head with a chuckle and walked around the opposite side as you popped on some random documentary about Pompeii. “Someone’s a history nerd like Steven, I see.” He teased.

You grinned at him as Puck wasted no time in claiming his lap as her special spot to snuggle, purring loudly as he began to stroke her silky fur, “Eh, what can I say? I’ve always been fascinated by ancient cultures.”

“So has Steven.” Jake murmured, feeling a pit of guilt gnaw at the lining of his stomach. He cleared his throat and looked back at you, a dark brow rising on his forehead inquisitively. “How long have you been obsessed with this stuff, Rosa?”

“Oh, geez…” You prop your head back, your throat exposed as you stare at the ceiling deep in thought. Jake swore he could see your pulse thump in your neck, and the thought made a nervous bead of cold sweat dribble down his spine, making him squirm uncomfortably.

“I think it has something to do with my old man,” You finally say. “He was always reading those kinds of books to me, ancient Egypt, Greece, Rome, China… stuff like that. He was a professor who spoke at seminars and local libraries.”

Jake blinked at you, “A professor?”

“Yeah! An archaeologist.” You grin nostalgically. “It’s where he met my mom, actually. Some people couldn’t tell by meeting her, but I am pretty sure she was from somewhere in Egypt. Not Cairo or Luxor, but… somewhere. My dad liked to brag that he “brought his work home with him.””

Jake gives a short, dry laugh as he turns to look at the screen. Wow. You really were perfect for them. Right down to having ties to the very place Steven often obsessed over; the place where Khonshu first found them…

“How’d they meet, exactly?”

“Well, Dad said something along the lines of meeting at some local bar after they found some small, obscure little tomb in Saqqara. He and his buddies apparently got drunk, almost got into a fight with some locals, and my mom “swooped in” to save them by punching one of them and cursing some absolutely foul things at them.”

You giggle, "But, that might just be my dad’s way of embellishing the tale. Mom once said she met my dad doing something dumb and hurling in a trash can.”

“Ah, love at first sight.” Jake joked with a laugh, imagining the scene himself.

“Not entirely.” You point out, smiling at him, mirth in your eyes.

His eyebrows shoot up once again, “Qué?”

“My mom hated my dad at first. She was one of those “I don’t wanna be shackled to some rando my entire life” kinda people… She had just earned a degree in… well, everything a doctor normally does. She practically ran the local hospital in the town where I grew up.”

“Oh, damn… no kidding?” Jake huffed. “So, what changed?”

“She agreed to meet with my dad, one last time before he came back to the states.” You sigh, smiling bittersweetly. It was good to talk about them, but it still made your heart cinch in your chest when you remembered that you didn’t have them around to talk to anymore…

“He began rambling, about the tomb, mostly. The mummified cats, a mummified baby crocodile, and of course, some tablets and scrolls, as well as y'know, the well-preserved murals.” You giggle. “It was some kinda temple, or holy place or…”

“Or something." Jake finishes with a charming grin, making you nod with another sweet chuckle.

“Yeah. She told me, halfway through his mile-a-second rambling, that something just clicked in her brain. Something in her head told her, “No, I can’t live without this nerd.” And she went with him.”

“Heh… that’s…”

“About as storybook as how I inherited my shop?” You snark.

“Well, I mean, I didn’t wanna offend you or anything…” He mused, his furry lip quirking up in a smirk.

“Nah, I’m used to it.” You reply, waving your hand dismissively. “She traveled with him, her knowledge of the local areas and languages as well as a medical background made her a no-brainer in terms of needing an interpreter and medic at a digsite. But, after my mom found out I was coming along, they settled in my dad’s hometown and stayed there.”

“Wow, when did they find out you were making your grand entrance?” He asked curiously.

“Well…” You smiled awkwardly and rubbed the back of your neck. “...Let’s just say there’s a reason I had a onesie with the words “made in Egypt” on it…”

Jake gasped, trying to reign in his laughter. “No.”

“Yep. Apparently they didn’t care that the only thing separating them and the entire team was a slip of canvas, and… oh this is so gross.” You dig the heels of your palms into your eyes and give a short bark of laughter. “I’m not gonna go on.”

“Oh, no, I get it.” Jake began snickering. “No child wants to imagine their parents during–ahem-- “the making of” portion of your life, so to speak.”

You curl in on yourself in laughter at his rather blunt and astute summarization of your thoughts. Puck meowed at you, standing on Jake’s thigh with the tip of her tail curved as her big green eyes blinked at you slowly.

You finally remember your feline companion’s presence, realizing now that she was probably getting jealous that you two were paying more attention to each other than her... So, you leaned over (rather close to Jake; not even realizing how he stiffened up at the gesture) and gave your little black cat a kiss on her cute little forehead, loving the little “prrbt” she made as she mashed her head into your lips.

You look up at Jake, “So… how’d you and your “separated at birth” brothers meet?”

Jake immediately coughed, tugging the collar of his shirt a bit nervously, “Well…”

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

Layla sat on the edge of the building, looking down into your flat through your open window from above, kicking her feet and grinning as she held her cheeks in her palms, her elbows on her knees.

“Don’t you think it’s a little creepy to be spying on them, Layla?” Taweret asked, a chubby little brow curving in soft reprimand.

“Oh, c’mon, Taweret.” Layla said, looking up at her. “Jake is getting close to her… maybe he’ll open up, about himself or the other two, or…”

“...Or you were just being nosey.” She said, putting her hand on her hips and wagging a finger at the woman.

“Can't it be both?”

“Oh, you're just terrible!” The goddess sighed.

“Hey… she's perfect for them, Taweret… I jus’ wanna see how this starts out. And… I hope Jake will tell the boys about her. I worry about them, y'know.”

The hippo-woman sighed once again, a small frown on her muzzle, “As do I, m’love. We can only pray for the best.”

She looked around warily.

“...And hope Khonshu doesn't have something up his sleeve.”

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

Chapter 12: Link

#moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #jake lockley #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley x reader #steven grant x you #marc spector x you #jake lockley x you #a rose under the moon

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acourtofmishapandmistakes · 6 months ago

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A Court of Ice and Shadows: Chapter 1

OC Character x Azriel

Summary: Set after "A Court of Silver Flames" (ACOSF), this story follows original character Lene, an elite warrior of the Hesker Clan from the Winter Court. Tasked with diplomatic duty in the Night Court, Lene's mission is to help retrain the Valkyries and help squash potential uprising in the Illyrian camps. As she navigates centuries-old animosities and discovers herself beyond the icy confines of her homeland, Lene must confront her past and decide who she wants to become.

Click here for other parts:

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Characters: Featuring original characters alongside core characters from the ACOTAR series.

Disclaimers: All characters and settings pertaining to the core ACOTAR series belong to Sarah J. Maas, with additional material created for the purpose of this fanfiction

Content Warnings: None.

Note: Some words used in this story are of Norwegian or Scandinavian origin. I do not speak either language, but adapted the researched words to fit the narrative. For notes regarding any of these words, see the end of the chapter.

Chapter One:

The frigid winds of the Winter Court had always been a constant in Lene’s life, whispering secrets of ancient magic and carrying icy promises of the future. As delicate snowflakes drifted gracefully around the towering spires of her home, Lene stood enveloped in her silver furs, her gaze sweeping over the frost-kissed gardens below. Today, the wind gnawed with an unusually penetrating chill, a sensation that Lene normally found invigorating, but now it stirred a restless unease within her. Something was shifting in the air, a change that tingled across her skin like a premonition.

Lene’s fingers tightened around the frozen railing, the warmth of her touch coaxing small beads of water to trail down the ice-glazed iron. She inhaled sharply, the biting cold piercing her lungs and mingling with a faint sense of dread as she exhaled a misty breath, watching it swirl and disappear into the frigid air. Snowflakes caught on the tips of her eyelashes, sparkling momentarily before melting away.

From the shadowed underbrush dusted with snow, a white fox emerged, its movements silent and cautious. The creature paused, its bright eyes scanning the quiet, snow-covered path before it boldly approached the grand manor’s doorstep. With an almost regal air, the fox reared onto its hind legs, as if checking the residence it had been tasked to find. Satisfied, it gently set down a scroll encased in a sleek glass cylinder, protected from the elements. After completing its delivery, the fox cast a quick glance over its shoulder, its bushy tail flicking playfully as it scampered down the pathway, leaving behind a delicate trail of paw prints as it yipped.

As the fox bounded down the path, Lene's eyes caught a glint of red—a vest intricately embroidered with golden threads that spiraled into the design of a complex snowflake. This was no ordinary courier fox; this one bore the distinct regalia of the High Court Palace. As the creature slipped beneath the iron gate and vanished from sight, a wave of curiosity stirred within Lene. What could the High Lord possibly need at such an ungodsly hour?

Turning, Lene retreated from the biting cold, pushing open the heavy double doors to re-enter the manor's welcoming warmth. A rush of heated air kissed her reddened cheeks, a soothing relief from the biting cold. With a fluid motion, she lowered the hood of her silver parka, untying it and draping it gracefully over the red velvet chaise by the entrance. Freeing her almost white, blonde hair from its confines, she let it cascade behind her shoulders, smoothing down her blue tunic that had bunched awkwardly beneath her coat. Despite the slight discomfort, she wouldn’t dare ask her grandmother to fashion her a new one, cherishing each piece the elder matriarch made.

Her boots left soft impressions on the plush rugs lining the floors as her footsteps echoed softly down the richly adorned hallways, framed by dark oaks and pine. Each step carried her deeper into the heart of the manor, toward the grand hall—a magnificent expanse where shadows danced with the roaring firelight and the air was thick with the scent of cranberry and pine. Lene took the staircase hurriedly, her feet barely touching the steps before she reached the grand hall floor, striding swiftly across to the large oak door that stood imposingly ahead.

Lene stretched onto her toes to peer through the frosted window panes, her eyes searching the ground where the fox had carefully placed the letter, now slowly being concealed by a fresh layer of snow. With a determined breath, she opened the grand door, its hinges releasing a soft creak that echoed faintly in the chilly air. Bracing against the cold, she stepped out to retrieve the letter.

Clutching the frozen cylinder, Lene hastened back inside, the door shutting swiftly behind her as a few rebellious snowflakes danced in with the gust of wind. Leaning against the sturdy oak, she wrapped the bottom edge of her tunic around the silver cap of the letter holder, using the fabric to insulate her fingers as she twisted it open. The cap finally gave way with a resounding clink, releasing the sealed message inside.

Lene tipped the holder, allowing the parchment to slide smoothly into her waiting hands. Tucking the glass container securely under her arm, she carefully unrolled the scroll, revealing the familiar, thin, and curled handwriting of High Lord Kallias. Her eyes quickly scanned the message, taken aback slightly by the formality of such a message:

“My Dearest Lene,

I apologize for the inconvenient timing of this message, but please know I would not call upon you without need.

I request your presence tomorrow morning at the castle to discuss a rather urgent matter regarding a neighboring court. Rest assured, the details are not grim, nor cause for any concern or panic. But this is a matter that will need to be addressed promptly.

Please meet me in the central court room tomorrow morning at 10 and I shall provide more details then.

I look forward to seeing you,

High Lord, Kallias”

Lene’s brows furrowed as she mulled over the cryptic nature of Kallias’s message. What urgent matter could involve another court yet not be cause for concern? With a twist, she secured the parchment back into the glass holder, the lid clicking firmly into place. Pushing off the door, she made her way through the grand hall entry towards the sitting room, her head swirling.

Upon crossing the threshold, Lene found herself enveloped in the warm embrace of firelight, illuminating her grandmother, seated regally in an aged wingback chair. The flames seemed to brighten her grandmother's braids, intricately woven threads of silver and white that shimmered with a touch of otherworldly luminescence. Those piercing blue eyes, sharp as the edge of winter, met Lene's gaze, reflecting a similar hue yet distinguished by whirls of deep sapphire. Her grandmother's brows knit together in keen scrutiny as tracked Lene’s march across the richly adorned sitting room, her hand poised elegantly around a glass of brandy.

Lene settled at her grandmother's feet upon the plush carpet, drawing her knees to her chest and resting her chin atop them. The scent of pine from the crackling fire mingled with the aged notes of brandy, weaving the comforting aroma of home around her. In the quiet, her grandmother studied her, the silence stretching between them.

"Something troubling you, elskling?" Her grandmother's voice finally broke the silence, a soft yet formidable sound in the dimly lit room.

Lene's lips twisted wistfully, her eyes remaining fixed on the dancing flames. "I'm not sure," she murmured, the words barely a whisper.

Her grandmother took a measured sip from her glass, finishing it in a slow, deliberate gulp before setting it aside. The crystal caught the light, glinting briefly. "You seem restless."

Lene paused a moment, "It's a letter from Kallias," she confessed, her voice a mix of curiosity and unease as she unfolded her legs, stretching one out while keeping the other bent. She retrieved a cylindrical holder from the floor, handing it to her grandmother. The elder's fingers, bony yet steady with the weight of years, accepted the parchment. "He's summoned me for tomorrow morning to discuss matters at another court."

Her grandmother unfurled the parchment, eyes scanning the words swiftly. "And what makes this summons so troubling?"

Lene watched her grandmother's expression, seeking any sign of insight. "It’s his formality and vagueness," she explained. "That’s unlike him. He’s normally much more blunt."

Her grandmother's hands deftly rolled the parchment back into its ornate glass cylinder, the movement elegant and practiced. Leaning forward, she passed the container back to Lene, her eyes narrowing slightly as they captured her granddaughter's troubled expression. "So, is it his tone that stirs this unrest within you?"

"It’s just peculiar," Lene admitted, placing the letter beside her on the lush carpet. Her gaze drifted away, lost in the shadows that the firelight failed to touch. "The last time Kallias and I spoke, he mentioned nothing about unrest or discord among the courts. Everything appeared...relatively quiet."

She hesitated, a frown creasing her brow. "In fact, it seemed as though Prythian was experiencing some form of odd harmony." Lene’s voice grew softer, more introspective. "I’ve harbored doubts about this peace, grandmother. It feels too quiet, like everyone is parading around in masks of smiles and happiness while something festers beneath the surface."

Turning her head to meet her grandmother’s age-wise eyes, Lene’s own shone with a mix of resignation and defiance. "I suppose I’ve been bracing myself for the reality to shatter it. For someone smart enough to take advantage of it."

Her grandmother absorbed Lene’s words, her aged face lined with understanding but tempered with the hardness of someone who had witnessed atrocities committed when thin layers of peace began to crumble. “I do not fault you for preparing for the worst. The most devastating storms often follow the calmest days.” Lene’s grandmother hesitated, thinking over her words, “But you cannot live your life on the calm days only fearing for what is to come.”

Lene let out a soft scoff, drawing her knees closer to her chest once more. "I appreciate the insight, Mormor," she murmured, her gaze fixed on the flickering shadows cast by the fire rather than her grandmother's face. "Do you believe there’s something more at play? Something... larger?”

Her grandmother reclined deeper into the wingback chair, the empty brandy glass twirling idly in her hand. "I don't believe Kallias would summon you without substantial reason," she mused. "You possess one of the sharpest, most tactical minds at his disposal. Perhaps he does indeed sense a shift on the horizon. But pondering the unsaid here is a futile endeavor. You will learn what you need to know soon enough. For now, perhaps there's virtue in the ignorant bliss of the unknown."

Lene smiled wryly, rolling her eyes affectionately. “You know I’m incapable of basking in ‘ignorant bliss,’” she quipped, her fingers air-quoting the last words.

At her grandmother's beckoning gesture, Lene moved to sit directly before the older woman, crawling on hands and knees before turning to face away from her. Her grandmother's fingers deftly began unraveling the small braids in Lene’s hair, undoing the intricate knots with gentle precision as she combed through the long strands. "You are very much like me, Lene," she observed quietly.

A laugh bubbled up from Lene’s throat. "I can imagine how delighted Mama would be to hear that comparison.”

Her grandmother gave a gentle tug on her hair, eliciting a slight hiss from Lene. "It’s your mind, elsking—it races too much, always darting ahead, never quite content to simply be here, in the moment."

As her grandmother tenderly rebraided her hair, the comforting touch that Lene often sought in moments of frenzy. "Mormor—" Lene began, only to be gently interrupted.

"It would do you well to allow yourself time to rest, to let your mind ease," her grandmother advised, her voice imbued with a soft firmness.

Lene drew in a deep breath, "I wish it were that easy," she confessed softly.

Finishing the braids, her grandmother expertly arranged the twin plaits over Lene's shoulders. Lene caught one, her fingers tracing the woven strands, pulling at a few loose ends as she contemplated her next words.

Her grandmother's gaze lingered on Lene, memories flooding back of a time when she was but a child, her small figure always close by. When allowed, Lene’s grandmother would allow her to sit with her in Kallias’s father’s court with Lene silently urging her grandmother to re-braid her hair while seated comfortably in her lap. Those moments seemed to echo in the quiet of the sitting room, where Lene, the red-nosed little snowflake, used to watch the other fae children play in the snow, always by the side of her mother and grandmother.

Lene parted her lips to speak, but her grandmother preempted her words with a reassuring hand on her shoulder, standing up from her chair. Lene looked up, meeting her grandmother’s eyes as she leaned forward to press a kiss to her forehead. "You were born with a strong head on your shoulders, burdened with the desire to care for others, and you excel in your role. There's no need to unsettle yourself over possibilities that have yet to manifest, my elskling," her grandmother said, her hands cradling Lene's face, eyes searching hers deeply.

"I know, Mormor," Lene responded after a moment, her voice steady as she took one of her grandmother’s hands in her own.

Her grandmother smiled gently, a sparkle of affection in her eyes. "I know you know. I just want you to trust in that." She bestowed another tender kiss upon the crown of Lene's head before standing. "Get some sleep, Lene."

"I won't be much longer," Lene assured her, her voice soft but firm. "Sov gott, Mormor."

"Sov gott, my elskling," her grandmother called over her shoulder as she exited the sitting room, leaving Lene in the comforting solitude with only the crackling fire to fill the silence.

Lene glanced over the letter, lying on the floor, scoffing as she once again ran through the various possibilities for her summons before standing from the floor, drawing the letter up and retreating to her bedroom for the night.

Parts:

Notes:

Elskling - “Darling” in Norwegian

Mormor - “Grandmother” in Norwegian

Sov gott - “Sleep tight” in Swedish

Thank you for taking the time to read this first chapter of what I hope will be a larger series. I haven't written anything long form creatively in years but I am hoping through this I can rekindle some of my love of writing. I know that this may not be everyone's cup of tea but for those who are willing to indulge me in this, I so greatly appreciate you. I am slowly relearning to appreciate the art I can produce and allowing myself this outlet is so healing. Much love, and to many more. - A Court of Mishap and Mistakes

#acotar #acowar #acomaf #acofas #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #a court of mist and fury #a court of frost and starlight #a court of silver flames #acotar fanfiction #acotar fanfic #oc #a court of ice and shadows

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gentil-minou · 1 year ago

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Wei Wuxian licks his lips and leans forward slightly, walking his fingers across the countertop aimlessly toward Lan Zhan. “You know, Lan Zhan,” he drawls, “A-Yuan says we’re both in the book.”

“Mn,” Lan Zhan responds, tracking the path of his fingers intently, “I am apparently Hanguang-jun, the moral upstanding hero.”

“And I’m the devious Yiling Loazu, who led you astray,” he smirks, peering at Lan Zhan through his lashes.

Lan Zhan meets his stare, head-on, lit from within like molten sunshine. “No,” he corrects, “not astray, Wei Ying.”

Wei Wuxian tilts his head, waiting for him to continue. His fingers stop their dancing, resting just inches away from Lan Zhan.

Lan Zhan shifts his own hand, bringing them even closer, their fingertips almost brushing.

“The Yiling Loazu did not lead Hanguang-jun astray,” he says, eyes piercing as they flicker between Wei Wuxian’s. “They were partners, and…”

“Ah,” Wei Wuxian breathes, “the decent romance?”

Lan Zhan doesn’t answer, watching him closely. The pupils of his eyes have grown so large there’s only the tiniest ring of gold around the edge. He can see himself reflected in the black. He thinks he likes the version of himself that lives in Lan Zhan’s eyes.

They’re standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for the other to take a step forward, bracing for a fall.

It should be terrifying, this sudden drop into something completely new, something entirely unknown yet so familiar. But Wei Wuxian is filled with conviction that no matter what, Lan Zhan will catch him.

It's as electrifying as it is calming, this certainty that here, with Lan Zhan, he is safe.

Wei Wuxian tilts his head to the side in a way he knows sets the unmarked skin of his neck on display. “I’m sure it was more than just decent, with a handsome hero like Hanguang-jun.”

Lan Zhan quirks an eyebrow, his gaze resting on the curve of Wei Wuxian’s neck, just as he’d hoped. "Handsome?"

“Well,” Wei Wuxian responds, tapping his index finger so it brushes against Lan Zhan’s fingertips. His skin is soft and perfect, just like the rest of him. “He isn’t wrong. You’re very handsome, Lan Zhan.”

“Really, Wei Ying?” Lan Zhan says, voice quiet and deep.

“Yep, definitely worthy of being compared to the beautiful Second Jade of Lan.”

“Is that so?” Lan Zhan shifts closer, the smell of him filling up Wei Wuxian. He smells so familiar, like something he knows intimately. Sandalwood, Wei Wuxian realizes, with sudden clarity.

Lan Zhan continues, “I would love to hear more about your opinion on my beauty and prestige, Wei Ying.”

“You don’t know anything about me, Lan Zhan. Why would you care what I think?”

Lan Zhan tilts his head, only just. “Do I need to? To want to know how your brain works?”

I commissioned this lovely artwork by the wonderful @lotuslate of a scene from my fic, once upon a time, 很久很久以前 where the entire cultivation world is cursed to live in the modern world without their memories and abilities, but of course wangxian find a way to fall in love all over again.

#i've been staring at this art for days they're one of my fave mdzs artist i am not worthy T__T #look at them falling in love before shenanigans try to keep them apart!!#im planning to post chapter 3 next week maybe by the end og the weekend #it's an absolute beast at 15k but it also introduces a bunch of characters im excited for hehe #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #the untamed #chen qing ling #wangxian #mdzs fanfiction #the untamed fanfic #wei wuxian #wei ying #lan wangji #lan zhan #mxtxnet #mdzs ouat au #bushy writing #okay now that the tags are out of the way prepare for anxiety rant: commissioning art for my fic was one of the best and most anxiety thing #i've ever had to do like it's actually insane #on the one hand i love my fic so much but also i do not feel worthy of such pretty art and talent (except i paid for it and supported an #artist i really admire which makes me dumb brain extra silly) but yeah this enitire week since i first got it i basically had to play #with my anxiety in the worst way and its been awful and i want to share this art cause its so great but also i want to cry cause i feel #unworthy BUT! i am by posting this telling that anxiety to shut up and continue promoting a fic i'm really proud and excited for and #hopefully opening the floodgates so i have the confidence to commission more artwork in the future because seeing the words i write in a pi #is just about one of the most incredible feelings aNYWAYS

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toots-senpai · 2 years ago

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Stability (Simon 'Ghost' Riley X Reader)

Authors Note: first legit fanfiction of another masked man??? more likely than you think bb. so so i'm making a part 2 this is 2 gory for legitimate smut. i wonder if this is good or adhd writing tbh i'll never know til y'all say so give a nice yelp review pls. also this is kinda unedited.

Author: @toots-senpai

Fandom: call of duty: modern warfare

Pairing: simon "ghost" riley x reader

Rating: R 18+

Word Count: 13.4k (longest fic thus far)

Warnings: gore, military related themes, guns, explosion mention, small nsfw shower scene, beating torture and cannibalistic torture, blackmail, human trafficking, agnst if you squint and blink, stalking, kidnapping

even though you've worked alongside ghost for a couple of years before you decided to settle down yourself, it doesn't help the anxiety of how long it takes for him to come back. the house itself squeals through the highrise building in loneliness and the water out of your faucets echo throughout the apartment. this beautiful apartment on a high floor with a dog the same size as you who sits at your front door and wags his tail when people walk by in the hallway every night until they close their door behind them might be starting to get to the two of you mentally. you know he experiences your same feelings when he's gone for longer than usual. he knows simon's schedule on all of his paws down to his tail and he starts to get antsy when he's gone for longer and is always on alert when you go for runs. he's always seems to be hoping to see simon, stopping abruptly when he smells gunpowder on others hoping its him. that has gotten you into multiple awkward and even scary situations maybe a bit too much recently. the city is a dangerous place full of dangerous people but here in this apartment it feels only slightly safer but when you stay in the house you start to get antsy, so it's morning runs from now on only but this life of being alert is tripping you out. simon has snuck up behind his precious dog once on your morning run, fresh from the job and scaring the absolute shit out of his so called scary protective puppy which resulted in him cuddling the dog all night on the couch as an apology on the couch and when he tried to sneak back into bed the dog jumped onto the front of the bed for the first time and neither of you had the courage to move the poor pup. instead you left him to sleep through the morning. only with simon and his dog is your small little family at peace.

though it was cute at the moment you wish he hadn't done it, all he does now is search for simon every run. stopping in the middle of streets and on your abandoned hike trails. you'd wish he'd be a normal dog and chase a squirrel or something but instead he'll jerk you out of a mid run to sniff something random out, fire victims, heroin users is his favorite at night to bark at in the abandoned buildings when he runs away out of your grasp. this time he was ecstatic about whatever smell he just hunted out and he was pulling you fast along the pebbly trail you couldn't get a grip just to stand still on so you let him go, which was probably the dumbest thing you could've done as you watched him run off. his big paws made him look dumb even as he ran away with his ears flopping and easily up the small bushed hill. you sighed out of anger going to take the tiny rocks out of your shoes before calling out for the dog, walking up the bushy hill to a small dirt path away from the trail. the building up ahead was probably a powerhouse which hadn't been checked on in awhile, you couldn't see it from where you stood. you had a gun in your waist trainer and you slipped it out easily as you moved up the small hill. you were starting to get frustrated truthfully but thankfully he got stuck on some branch in one of the bushes, he knew not to tug when he was caught in something but when being handled by his owner he'd tug happily apparently.

"Oh scout you're such a baby." You couldn't help but mutter as you put your gun back to get him out only for him to attempt to drag you again just to be halted by your much firmer grip on the ground. "Enough of that." You ordered as you re-adjusted yourself to try to start to tear him away from the smell he was still insistent about but he whined and tugged until once again getting successfully getting lose only to stutter where he was going and yelp into a growl and when you stumbled forward he even pushed you back a bit by how fast he got in position to protect. You would've just stumbled into this man's chest if it wasn't for scout alarmingly barking at the man startling him enough to trip over his own feet and fall back onto his ass stunned. You grabbed scout's leash and pulled him back to sit but he continued to growl and moved between your legs instead, something simon must've taught him. you pay no mind to it as you look down at the man in front of you, he didn't have on an outfit that would like he worked here but he looked like he knew what he was doing. probably a special worker for this establishment but it does seem a bit off, scuff marks all over his face as if he was a mechanic of some sorts but you don't mention it.

"I'm sorry just walk around us, he's not going to budge from where he's at I really don't have control over this big boy!" You chuckle light-heartedly rubbing scout's neck attempting to calm him down from his defensive procedure by grabbing his leash with a tense pat but he doesn't let down and even tenses more when this man stared at you. you want to take back what you set earlier about whishing simon didn't run in on your run that day, you wish for him to do it right now if he could. not saying you couldn't handle yourself but the way his cold eyes stared at you like he had just scored some information scared you and scout not backing down is keeping your hair against your skin raised but if it wasn't for him you don't know how else you would've gotten out of this situation. scout started moving before you did keeping his position between your legs as he made you walk backwards onto the bushy ground once more, keeping a snarl on his teeth as he paced back with you until you made some distance from the man starting to sit up but scout started pulling you along the gravel once more and all you could do was try to keep up with him and not let the leash hurt your hand before you could even try to look back to the man with the deadly stare. now it's all you can think about when you look down at the dog by the door, swirling the tea bag in your mug around. what was he sniffing and what could've happened if scout didn't move you away? what if you were truly by yourself? probably murder was the only answer you could come up with regardless for any question. a shower couldn't shake away the thoughts and the atmosphere of your precious space was alert.

the next morning is the same as far as you can tell, an insomnia smoothie at 4am looking at the burner phone ghost gave you on the counter and back out to run at 5am. you didn't take one of the abandoned trails this time. in your eyes, simon's training isn't going 100% but that's okay because scout's still technically a puppy you remind yourself as you watch him make a tiny tumble out of the trunk. almost a year and his paws are just a tad too big for his legs. usually its a run but this time, you just wanna walk, relax a bit and breathe away the stress caught in your throat. music is in your ears and there's a coffee from the only open bakery in town at this hour. the coffee is dull and too hot and unfortunately you already wish you hadn't gone out. watching the sunrise from over the hills of the park was pretty and all but your safety still wasn't intact from what you know yet you will still sit on the bench with your knees up and scout loosely held by his leash next to you rolling in the grass. you are determined to read in the park today instead and nothing is going to stop you that's for sure. reading an ebook with your music playing lowly is helping you forget about the humid morning. the leash is long and you can see scout out of your peripheral. your interest on him only peaks when he tippy taps, not an excited one, he's revving up for something and look up to look where he's looking you see the man from yesterday.

maybe it's just the human act to be ignorant towards red flags because even though his stare is colder today you thought that there was a chance that he didn't even know who you were still he does try it as he grabs a bouquet out of his jacket and attempts to hand to you a bit closer than comfort only for scout's jaw to snap at him, almost biting his hand. the man scoffs at the dog and tosses the bouquet on the floor carelessly as he stomps away without even a look back at you and you figure that's enough of the park today. you pick up the flowers anyway, and think about giving it to the neighbor since you know she loves getting some of the flowers that simon sends sometimes but you wish that this bouquet was never offered to you in the first place when you think back to it. when you walk up to the hallway to see this bouquet in multiple other arrangements you already know they're sent by simon. the flowers in your hand is one of the bouquets that's missing from one of the vases. this guy knows where you live and scout knows too when he sniffs the vase growling. you separated the flowers anxiously outside your apartment making sure there was nothing in the around a hundred flowers before taking them in. you call security at the front desk and try to get to simon or price but their phones aren't even on and goes straight to voicemail.

later you checked for airtags on the car and let scout wander without the leash to watch your surroundings as you checked down in the parking garage. your gun is in your hand behind your thigh behind public sight and scout growls next to you, a man walking nearby. you think he's not to suspicious but you have to take the elevator with him which you chose was stupid. once again in your eyes there was nothing you could've truly done to prevent this, everything was aligned for you to get stuck in this position you think. you were looking out for yourself and even if you had gotten in the elevator with him, who knows if he'd be the same people that are now walking towards you one of them scratching the body of someones car. you ran to the stairs and shoved into someone which was a quick shot for you and when looking back you saw that he wasn't a form of civilian anyways as his friend pulled out a gun behind you to shoot and only have his wrist basically ripped by scout who immediately runs back to you after he ripped opened his wrist. you went up a couple floors before you got onto one and caught the elevator with scout where you went back down to the garage to get on the road.

your mom's is probably the safest compared to your flat. you left everything up in the house and you locked it before you left but who knows if they're there. you left your phone and the burner so if anyone wanted to get to you, there was nothing. this is not the way you wanna be spending your night. you have an emergency old id and wallet full of a little money in your glovebox but no phone will suck. you drove out of the city before stopping at a restaurant for a phone. soap was the only number you knew by heart without your phone, purely because he answers more than simon which is more than true when he answers but there's nothing but bullets richocheting off of whatever was close and hearing the phone drop as they made their way out of whatever area. you're fucked.

---------

simon pov

he's taken his way through this small evacuated city a couple times already, helping innocents and chasing after his objective and once he finished he was less than relaxed. a plethora of missed calls from you on the burner and only two towards his direct and you went silent for the last week. your location hasn't moved from the house in days and for some reason all of the hidden cameras he had around the house was down and the burner was tracking it's way through the city streets with no answer when he called. definitely not like his girlfriend. only two things left, scout he checked first, tagged in the collar was a state away from the house, at your mothers? what were you doing by the woman you've avoided the past couple of years, how desperate were the two of you? he's on edge, his foot tapping as he searches through his contacts an old messages trying to get in contact with you through someone of your friends. soap stands in front of his light and his eyes snap up to meet his and instead meeting soap's phone, cracked in his hand with the burner number blowing up his phone. a ransom in his messages and some other bullshit, it was a day to fly to get to you, he's antsy already watching the minutes past as he listens to the turbulence. he couldn't even drink water knowing you weren't okay, his mind ran wild and every emotion he's ever experienced goes through his head, silent underneath his mask as he watches the trackers move, he's in shock when you and the dog are moving rather fast through the forest. you're running fast, his blood is running cold.

----------

y/n's pov

it was a bad idea, terrible idea, your mother has been dead for god knows how long and you didn't know. and now here you were stuck out in buttfuck forest nowhere with your tires slashed when you walked back out of the new occupants home. a couple of shots rang through the new elderly couples home and you already started running down the road as fast as you could before the second one, scout fast at your tail. you're sweating already as you make your way into the nearby city, dawn creeping as if you aren't wanted by someone out there searching for your face. you appreciate your morning runs but as the sun is rising too fast now you still haven't slept on top of all this besides the resting area two days ago. you need to get away from whoever the fuck is chasing you, find somewhere to stay until morning. but you're hungry from running through the forest all night, scout's had his fill of rabbit while you tried to sleep in the trees halfway through the night, it was a tad too gruesome for you to sleep after hearing him mutilate the bunny with the sun hot so you walk into the city while his mouth is still messy. you have your wallet and money still but no communication. no credit card means no rental car and you do not need to bring yourself into any businesses for longer than 5 minutes with your name attached to anything and a bloody dog. you still got some breakfast and cleaned him up before you made your way up to one of the buildings by the highway up to the roof where and you sit on the edge watch as planes fly over you and the cars fly by. You wish that one of them will be a militia plane and simon would parachute and land ontop of you but instead the sun is starting to get hot up here and scout is antsy.

----------

simon's pov

his mind hasn't stopped wandering since he's been watching you move. he wonders if you got his flowers and a letter he wrote to you when he couldn't stop thinking about you one night. far too romantic and a bit corny in his opinion when he re-read it in the morning, all that matters is that you enjoy his thoughts not him. he's shaking his leg and he's even more tired than you were, he wonders if you're injured. he's going to land farther away from you and his leg starts to tap once again before soap speaks up next to him.

"what about her phone. i've never even seen her with it not attached to her pockets and the fact that she just left it is a little mind boggling.."

"worried about breaking it maybe? she knew she was going to get into some sort of trouble? she would've taken her phone.."

"distracted?"

"by possibly what?"

"maybe she felt sketched out to go back in the house, went out to grab something and ran into something along the way?" it's silent between the men for a second thinking about how to plan this out probably. soap just wants him to think rationally so he doesn't get himself killed, not thinking that it's a chance but he will get injured if they don't have backup plans. "i'll go back to your apartment, check it out."

"the burner?"

"price will handle it."

"alright then."

-----------

y/n's pov

a human with only a water bottle and gun holstered with a dog with blood still clumped in his fur is definitely an interesting look. no one has called the cops though, even as you walk through the city and scout does really good navigating through the small crowds that cover the outside of bars no one is suspicious. the sun is setting soon and you can only imagine how far you've gone and yawn as scout's tail wags and his nose sniffs the air. and he stops walking and starts tippy tapping and sitting with his tail wagging viciously, you can hear the apc before it pulls up next to you and out comes your knight in dark armor, balaclava covering his face and a warm stare of relief before his dog stands on his hinds as he puts his paws on his chest licking and nipping at his mask.

"where's the harness i got him?"

"you got him a harness!?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

the apc is bustling down the empty highway to intercept soap a state over and the evening still burns the clouds as the sun peaks out from the heavy rain. the scenery is nice but scout doesn't like the sound of the rain on the metal vehicle going faster than the speed limit, the rain hits like bullets and he whimpers underneath the arms of the two bulky men who pet him, gaz calming him down by patting his butt softly next ghost. "you never thought to at least check them over before you kept moving?"

"i didn't even want to pay attention to who was following me. didn't even know how many there were.. how'd you find me ghost?"

"scout. tracker."

"ooo spooky. like watching me and your pretty little dog in your spare time my secret admirer? is there a hidden camera in the collar?"

"no, too busy to keep up with you two handsomely famous influencers. i have a serious life compared to you two to even think of buying a camera for the dog." he jabs kicking your foot slightly from across the bench. he still notices the discomfort in your face, not even your fake smiles even coming to show as you stared down at the dog between the two men.

"i didn't see them walking anywhere anyway? i check my surroundings, ghost. im aware as i can be. i think i ran into them on one of my hikes..."

"you shouldn't be going on those trails by yourself regardless."

"i mean i thought you got me scout for that exact reason.." it's silent for a second, the ride as comfortable as it could be but the energy pretty relaxed.

"scout's trained." simon jokes, sarcasm dripping from his tone. "but scout is actually trained for both of our protection, not just you. trained him with soap. must've got to used to being with both of us or something-."

"all i can think about is how they had to have been watching me... he gave me one of the bouquets that you sent before i even saw them. gave them to me on my run in the park...the public park!"

"it was the same bou-"

"yes ghost! same wrapping, same flowers, missing bouquet in one of the vases in the hallway." the car is silent once more, cadets looks at you with concern but the driver breaks the silence saying that you were 5 minutes away from the location and ghost opens and turns on the communication system.

"soap, come in, over." the station is quiet and so is the car. you start reloading your gun now grabbing some additional armor from one of the nearby crates.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you've never seen your neighborhood like this. it's been a day and it's run down even more than usual. gaz said there was an explosion down the street, terrorism attack on a building a couple days ago and killed alot of people and now the city has lost control of it's people. when the apc stopped someone was already drifting through the streets a cop busting behind him as a full chase. was what happened more than a random occurrence? all of you think not when you get to the garage, ghost's mask is drawn in spray paint and scout sniffed out the guy the guy who attacked you in the hallway, shot probably by his own men because he left of smear of blood from his wrist on his way down. no way that they couldn't of helped him with his wrist that scout mauled, no compassion for even their own people.

"we gotta keep going.." ghost muttered softly walking past you up the stairs with scout following between his legs. you all followed behind until you got to your floor, scout sniffing out the booby traps even at the entrance, mined doors on this side of the stairs of the building so you all went back down and split up coming in through different ways. you and ghost ended up in the elevator without scout because he's afraid to elevators, it's silent as you two make your way up before it suddenly stops to a screeching halt which threw you a bit off balance into simon who caught you by one of his arms which wasn't holding on to his gun. the fire light turned on and the door opened to the elevator, the shaft tall and air rushing up through the gap, his grip tightened a bit as you two backed up and he tried to press the elevator door to no avail. it's cold, the air blowing up through the shaft, there is even a few floors above you. that whistle of air is almost louder than the shots from levels above you and simon can't get through the comms as an emp rung through his ear before he shut it off looking at you.

you're eyes are connected as the shots ring around you from the open shaft. he pulls his balaclava above his mouth as he kisses you sweetly letting his gun hang by the belt as he holds you tight. moments like these keep you on edge as well, you both hear the barks on the level above and scout's barking echoes through the shaft. when the shots became quiet and he let go as quick as he grabbed you. hand pulling down his mask and other arm repositioning at his gun as the elevator shook from someone jumping on it and the emergency door on the top of the elevator cracks open and ghost's muzzle is pressed against soap's leg who is staring down at you two quietly.

"you two lived on top of the guy who planned this all and yes, you were being watched... both of you.. for awhile."

"comprisable?"

"almost."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

your apartment had been ransacked, it was smart to not go back upstairs and just take the high road. he took your belongings and this guy had a really big grudge with ghost. one of the last missions before you retired, your team infiltrated one of the many areas you had in the past but this time this guy had gotten a hold of ghost, kidnapped him and has intel on him somehow, starting off with his precious girlfriend's house shopping. it was all planned pretty well but it's always connected to something bigger. people you've taken out and he's taken out being connected and simon thanks that you don't ever say his name in any texts or your contacts. you can see his eyes beam up as he checks all over your phone seeing nothing incriminating or deceitful that would've helped this guy get more info on you but you know he's kicking his feet and shit in his head since you have gotten back in the apc. his stoic face does not help his happy excited fingers that rub against your hand as you all head to a base back out of the state.

they all connected on the floor and took the hostiles out quite quickly before noticing you both hadn't gotten out of the elevator yet but you still got the majority of your belongs out of there, keeping only a bag of clothes, some books and some small valuables and your precious computer which actually had all of the intel on it. protected by multiple layers of protective passwords which ghost dropped his happy actions at taking his hand back and making you break the silence of the apc filled with only crumpling papers and a roaring tank engine with a giggle. it didn't take long to get out of the apc and onto a base and into a car alone with scout, your belongings are in the trunk and scout has the whole backseat to himself as he looks out of the window searching for simon, pacing back and fourth. you have to get a new phone, the other one is staying on base for monitoring and basically you're fucked for calling anyone. it's not like you have anyone to talk to anyways nowadays with work but still sucks you still can't get it back.

simon opens the driver and slips into the seat and takes a deep breath before looking at you. "he overcharged us by the way on rent.." he jokes but with not a smile from you he continues but looking away. "he was trying to find our names. didn't expect our id's to be fake, not the same guy who stopped you on the run. caught him on a couple of different camera's on the apartment cameras, same guys stealing those navy weapons awhile ago...." he trails off before looking back at scout before back at you. "we'll find somewhere safe to permanently stay if that's what you're worried about?" he says. you could only think he's not used to your silence. it's not him, it's just the need to forget about it all all ready. just the thought about this is overbearing your thoughts but you have to respond to him.

"everywhere we will stay will be farther from you even if i stayed at a base.... should i come back? would it be safer?" you ask him in a low tone and he looks out at the base in front of the steering wheel, hands rubbing the leather wheel slightly.

"do you think it'll be safer.. always being on the move, back on the field? you said you wanted stability. i thought that was our plan?"

"is this stability?" the silence in the car was deafening as the air base around you roared from airplanes and cars that moved around the parking lot. "baby...." you trail reaching out for his forearm and rubbing his wrist looking at him with your lips pressed before continuing. "we have alot of time to calm down but... i need to stay with you. it isn't calm without you."

"are you sure you can handle it again dove? it's draining and even your therapist-"

"i never paid a dime for that, it's just provided and i've handled myself for a long time, i can do it again to stay with you. especially for you.. us. are you afraid of my aim?" you giggle and he relaxes slightly while probably smiling and biting anxiously at his lips underneath the mask still he chuckles. he finally looks at you fully and he squints a bit taking you in for a second and holding the hand that was once touching his forearm rubbing at your fingers.

"did you not get the letter in the flowers?"

"did you put your name or mine on the card?"

"in.. code?"

"what does that mean?"

"a poem.. of sorts.. i'm guessing you didn't get it?"

"no."

"i hope i never find this guy. took away my romantic gesture.."

"i bet simon, your love on a piece of paper is good blackmail may i add but he's not dead? i thought-"

"nope, guys in the parking lot were there holding down the whole apartment, working with the guy on the trail who we can't find who works for someone else...terrible blackmail though even if it said something about our stability together and some other things... almost as if we're on the same page. i hope.." he trails off for a second swallowing and probably pouting as he continues. "it's not blackmail though, i can say it to you now, i remember-"

"i can only imagine what's about to come out of your gorgeous mouth but i would really like to do it later. where are we even going to go?" he's back to rubbing the wheel, probably disappointed about not being able to admit his feelings. he shrugs with his head down and you know he's got alot more to say but he's quiet, mask moving softly. "stop biting at your lips you know it's a bad habit simon."

"i know. i love you, i don't want to mess us up love. i want you to be happy when you wake up. not scared or forced to put on any face that isn't yours." he stops and he's looking at you almost through your skin and his chest is heaving a bit. you know he's pent up under his tactical gear and he needs release mentally and physically. you just can't keep up, this alertness keeps you stressed and with no ground to ground yourself with, how could you truly relax. you wonder if he knows that too as he waits for you make him keep going, waits for you to let him talk and sweeten you up with his words that he doesn't feel like he get's across to you because of how long he's been away. "i will never tell you to not do something when it come's down to how you feel about all of this. if you need me i'll stay, if you want to be with me on the job that's fine. you know the price of what comes along with your actions and any position you choose. any judgement you make i'll respect and work with you through it."

"reassurance? that's all you got? i don't need it. what about what you want to do?"

"anything that's best for us, for you-"

"i get that but like you don't know anything past what i want? it's all just the job and my wants?"

"only when it comes down to our housing truthfully, whatever you pick that far is all i want from you. my needs only last in financial stability and I work quite enough for it plus what you still get as a bonus and my bonuses." he makes you face him, grabbing your chin softly. "please tell me what you'd like to do for the night.." he's pleading seriously, eyes searching yours.

"do you have ideas other than a hotel?"

----------

simon's pov

an airbnb for tonight and a home by tomorrow was the supposed plan but you look like you were still thinking about it. he wonders if you want to live at every base he moves to making him have to work full-time as he pulls out a couple of the important containers from the passenger doors. he enjoys the suv the force offered him while you two moved about and they were even offering to either get the two of you a new one or if he wanted to keep this one but he still doesn't know and he knows you don't either. privacy and protection is important and that is well enough known to the point that it doesn't have to be brought up in the conversation but that doesn't help with privacy and protection at all. he hauls them up this cabin, the air is cold on his forearm's and his mind races as he walks up the stairs, you have the water running in the bathroom for the shower, steam rising out of the door as he puts down your essentials near the door looking at you. scout's got his head in your lap and you still haven't even touched your computer after looking at this one website for housing. he wonders if you're thinking about cities and states or about the future as he walks over to you. you don't even look up at him as he kneels down next to the bed. he rubs the outside of your thigh and your eyes finally meet his, they're a bit glossy as your hands reach out for his face, caressing his cheek and biting your inner cheek.

"thank you for bringing the stuff in, we need to get dog food in the morning and i have food for us coming from someplace on uber. burgers.." you mutter looking up at him. he's so in love with you he could shatter underneath your eyesight and break into a million pieces and let you step all over him and he wouldn't do a thing. he kisses you through his mask on your forehead and you giggle a bit as scout pushes his way up to start licking your face. he pushes the dog softly out of the way by his muzzle and your hands rub up his arms and he's on fire at your small touches and he just nods looking from your lips back to your eyes.

"can i take you to the shower?" you smile again and he's biting his lips again as he stares down at yours who look back wide and full of love through the exhaustion.

"carrying me?"

"of course." he states before ripping you out from under the covers in one go and into his arms. you squeal and protest slightly but he just changes his hold on you instead. he's holding you by your ass and he's kissing you again after yanking it up past his mouth and moaning as you kiss him back. scout tries to follow you two to the bathroom but he gives him a look through the kiss as before he goes in the bathroom back first before closing and pushing you up against the door. buttons in his head clicked quite fast when he takes your wrists up against he door and your wrists are connected with the metal hangers, almost as if it was made for something other than hanging towels. he laughs when you notice and you blush a bit pushing him off of you. as he stumbles he takes off his shoes and walks back up to pull you by your waist into his chest. he loves how malleable you are under his touch and how surprised you are every time he pulls you close, how your eyes dance around him as he strops and your shirt is thrown off your head. he has a craving to hear your laughter all the time, it makes him feel like a class clown and emotionally vulnerable but he gives you his all. every emotion he experiences he's always trying his hardest to make evident especially as he picks you up by your thighs and walks straight into the shower clothes on and lets you get wet first as you spit the water back at him in shock and then reach back to turn it down.

"hot." you state and he nods and gets under with you under the hot water until cools down and you two are centimeters apart. clothes sticking to skin and you run your hands down his wet shirt feeling his toned muscles underneath and you let out a breathy whimper when you feel one of his belts in the way. "too much on still simon." you whisper and he nods feeling his dick twitch at the sight of your pupils widen as you look up at him. "do you need help with that?"

-----------

y/n's pov

you're a bit mad he made you come in the shower with both of you clothed, you can see a mixture of blood and dirt down the drain as he holds you and some of it smears onto your pants as he holds you in his arms squeezing your ass with every movement you've made since being in this position.

"what if there's cameras in this airbnb?"

"free fucking show love." he cuts you off pressing his lips back into yours this time a little rougher. you can't breathe through his rough kiss as his gear digs into your thighs and his cock rubs on of the best acts of friction through his pants and your leggings that you still haven't taken off from your run two days ago. a hand runs up your hips and his kisses are feverish against your jaw as he hold you with his other arm and his knee, keeping you pressed against the plastic of the shower.

"you gotta take it off-"

"not fucking yet don't you interrupt me." he seethes into your ear and it's a genuine grind and a moan as he grinds himself against your cunt and latches his teeth on your neck a couple times while pulling at the fabric of your bra and sucks harshly at the skin between his biting. your hips twitch and your hands grip onto his shoulders as you moan with him, lost in the pleasure as he stays consistent with the grinding against your clothed cunt. he can feel how wet you already are through your wet clothes and truthfully you're too close to skin in your leggings and his pants are in the way. he flips around and puts you behind him as he takes off the wet skin tight long sleeve that was rolled up his forearms and you are taking off a couple of his belts tossing them into the sink with a couple of underhand throws before his pants come down finally as you scowl behind him.

"you didn't even bring my soaps in here..." he sighs deeply while walking outside the bathroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you two are finally searching through the housing market across the u.s. when the two of you are clean and out of the shower. you lay on his chest and scroll a bit endlessly and sometimes simon says some states but he's been quiet ever since illinois, his head is buried within your neck and he's calm behind you contently rubbing scout's head who lays over the both of your laps. he gives you a few kisses every now and then to the junction of your jaw and you relax, sighing and baring your neck to him. it doesn't take him too long to start to trail his tongue on your neck but you don't think he notices that you're not too excited at the moment and you break the silence as per usual. "i don't want to move anywhere truthfully.." you say and there's nothing but a long stare from him before the doorbell rings and he slips from behind you.

it didn't look like he was to keen on that statement.

----------

simon's pov

he didn't expect this to be the route you two took a couple of months later, both of you back on the field and his name slowly slipping away from your lips and ghost the only thing he's hearing nowadays once again. you're good at keeping undercover and you were right that this was the best way to do it. scout is an official military dog and has new badges and everything to prove his role in the military, awards from the last couple of missions and now he walks between your legs correctly neither of you missing a beat as you three snuck towards a safe house. you three were somewhere in africa due to an incoming missile towards the cargo plane that was just for trade, but still everyone was forced to evacuate. seconds after your squad deployed parachutes were already being blown out from bullets and people fell faster than they came out of the plane. both you and ghost cut your chutes before they could see you two falling and he had to trust you with every ounce of his being and let you use your other emergency one when once you two got closer to the ground, holding him close through safety belts for the scariest 4 seconds before you finally pulled his chute and his safety belts with both of your hands in one of the fastest motions he's seen. he couldn't pull his own because of the quite large dog he held who panted and moved anxiously in his arms as you three fell through the sky and he had to keep him quiet and content as you two landed. at the end when you three finally landed scout was the only one hurt, probably a sprain in his foot but he refused to be carried. there isn't any form of safehouse nearby either, an abandoned location he knew about but definitely not a full safe house.

now as you two approach someone is getting assassinated in these abandoned ruins, a fire squad releasing multiple shots that echo into the rainforest. matter a fact the old vines that used to crawl from the ground up the trees are are now halfway up the trees. a 'war' or some sort of battle had to have happened for the mud to be this way and the grass to grow this unrapidly. desire paths and blood ransacked the floor and the trees, his heart is running a little faster than usual and anxiety runs through his veins like an infection. both of your comms hasn't gone through since you've landed and when you both look at each other you know that only one of you has to go. it's distract or be taken prisoner in whatever city this is and he knows you have to go. you're better than this, won't be seen as a threat and scout heads underneath his legs before either of you say anything. the plan went smooth enough, both of you still ending up as high alert 'prisoners' but you kept your guns and scout is being seen by medical. they're not too friendly but they don't lack hospitality and he see's that you can be grateful towards them for that. he won't let down his guard even when they offer you both a place to stay, a nearby motel with twin beds as the only thing left. you checked for bugs and he was looking at a map, scout in his lap on the bed and nearby 'neighbors' arguing about drugs and drug money.

two feds next door will do that to hypes and he chuckles listening to their argument with his semi-learnt french and you finally sit down on the other bed pouting. you're hungry and nothing delivers in this type of town and there was nothing even open in town from what you saw when they drove you two to the motel you complained. you also said something about being weirded out that no pubs were open in the town, mentioning no town drunks and now all he can think about is telling you about the high motherfuckers to the left of your room but you don't seem to be in the funny mood. you both went to sleep hungry and in different beds until you got up around 2 and had to snuggle with him for 'warmth' so your comms ringed you both awake with soap's voice ringing both of your eardrums far more awake than you two were even before you two went to sleep, scout whining from the bad at the ring of both of your comms. soap states everyone on your helicopter was probably dead besides the driver who had a terrible concussion and was dragged out of the plane by monkeys as the man said. even soap sounded enthused but apparently was on facetime with him and the bonobo helpers. very interesting, unfortunately you were stuck out here for longer. good news that the people that helped last night are semi-'allies'. some soldier awhile ago had this predicament of getting lost in this jungle and also getting saved by these people.

these allies said something was coming to intercept you but the people at the 'nearby' hq- which was a country away - said it'd be best if you were on the move. so you two walked through the jungle again, neither of you actually wanted to stay in the free motel and rather wanted to be on the move. he can't see how you could see the stability in this, yet he still tries to wrap his head around it. he can't even wrap his head around how only one of the injured people from the plane survived and he brainstorms the whole time as you two walked but a couple of sharp shots from the distance shook you two out of any thoughts that either of you were thinking and you two look at each other. it seems at this very moment the vehicle that was coming to intercept was also coming at the same time, his hand grabs yours quickly and he kisses your hand through the mask before he pulls you out of sight and lets you go as you two split with scout following close behind as you two hide between the darkness of the rainforest. gargled unproperly translated french said something about hostages and soldiers being held in a barn down the road, along with looking for you.

to be fair, translating has become easier when you're being taught by your captors daily between food breaks but still when he thinks back to how you two responded to them driving away and not even checking for the shooter properly he winces and wheezes from the wince. when you two walked to where the shooting happened and there lied one of your comrades who was choking on his own blood and probably alerted the shooter who wasn't on said truck that drove away.

he can translate all of it now, their entire conversation front to back, they've used the whole recorded conversation from their comms play on repeat while they beat him once, translating all of it towards his unlearned french and taught him quickly through it all, they've been watching you both for the longest. he has never spoke to them, never letting a word even slip from his mouth as they screamed and tortured him day and night and all he can do is wonder where you went every time he see's the moon rise through the small crevice of the celled window. that night they tracked both of you down through the rainforest and told the already reinforcements that were on the way that you were by yourselves and when they surrounded you, guns at every corner of his vision and scout being shot multiple times when he went after the men and hearing his dog's struggles and your screams while he struggled against three men who shot him up with something that still makes him hazy after all these weeks, it makes his blood burn. your screams echo and watching you cry for scout and pull him towards you was the only thing he remembers as his vision faded to black. he get headaches wondering if you're still alive and he wonders if you two are just m.i.a on a cold case. he dry weaves sometimes at that thought and these men scoff at him for being so week after their endless torture with weak laughs. he's not thinking straight.

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y/n's pov

you on the other hand know everything that has been happening. scout's alive but barely and all of the people you wondered where they were lay in these stables, citizens of this small town they keep you with when they're done with you. you're beaten for livestreams for your superiors and ransoms are being passed around like hall passes. you've watched your superiors get close a couple of times, only twice if we don't count you blindfolded hanging from the rooftop as multiple men threw blows at your stomach that had you hurling off the edge more than you already were as you choked on your own blood. only a rope held your wrists tied behind your back and only pulled slightly by one man who doesn't care if you fell as he watches when you hunched over with blood spilling from your mouth with every blow and statement of unmerciful threats from you captors screamed across the forest around you in victory when they first tried to infiltrate this base. victorious they left you on the roof for days, broken ribs and blood dried and caked into your wounds and your face as drones focused on you in the distance. a base across the forest created alot of light pollution, and enough of it had them throwing you back downstairs into these said stables. these stables were underneath this house in the rainforest and sometimes you could swear you heard simon through the floorboards above you as the innocent people around you flinched at every blow towards whoever sits in these chairs above you.

they screech from their chairs, multiple people and sometimes they're thrown into this infectious stable and sometimes these people let them rot if they didn't know that they would've died from the injuries, they don't care at all, they don't even have a motive from what you know thus far. there are other of your comrades down here, tortured or starving along with the town drunks to the religious fanatics who are overly pessimistic towards the young women whose children are dying from sicknesses that these people don't even bother to care about. the mothers help you out the most and body huddles happen around you with children for warmth. you've been beaten past the point of walking at this point and everyone is silent in almost a silent apology every time they throw you down here worse than you were before. it's only been a month and a half since you've been captured.

honestly you don't even wanna think about the whimpers from everyone every time you're dropped on the floor, the whimper from your dying dog getting more silent every time. the kids are taking care of him you're pretty sure. you watched that night as they threw him in the back of the trunk like roadkill onto your hallucinating body after shooting him and your vision was fading long before you could register that you were drugged and also probably dragged like roadkill. the drag towards the 'medic' of the town who was also another drunk they let cold turkey off the alcohol was probably the meanest man you ever met out of the bunch, every drag felt like needles and the sharpest of grass every time they threw you down here and the humidity of the stables create a more putrid smell than any garbage bag could or even the thick smell of gunpowder on other occasions. it was harder to breathe this time around the drag felt like nothing and your skin was numb but your broken ribs sliding across the ground was worse than being able to breathe, the pain put you in a state of almost shock as the man examined your body. you'll seethe and scream through every bone he could recrack back into the position.

you've seen plenty of what the captors can do to you and the people around you but this night they wanted you to know more. the door shakes this house when one of them slams it open and everyone moves away from you as they walk over and pick you up. he throws your battered body over his shoulder and you wonder if they're dragging simon behind you right now. afterall he's big like simon but in this state of pain you couldn't really realize who they dragged behind you by their throat. you can't even try to move as they place you in a different vehicle, so weak that they place you in the middle of two men in the backseat and don't even cover your face as they laugh at you as you fade in and out of consciousness. overstimulating to say the least with the pounding headache and they just throw you out of the vehicle with the man next. he's got his cuffs locked behind his back and you have the need to sleep through this pain, your body can't stay awake and you can't beat how soft the ground is even if the muddy gravel that was digging into your cheek. so when you open your eyes the second time it's actually dawn instead of dark and you are stuck in the middle of nowhere the person previously in the cuffs in front of you gone. an old cabin lies in front of you and now everything clicks as to what they actually held besides the five comrades at their base. there was ghost stories being said by the old woman day and night of a building which had blood seeping out of their doors and you can see it from where you lay on the ground, along with an eyeball.. fresh. you don't have to guess from where when you sit up and see part of the man who previously was there in front of, pieces of bone from his skull scattered on the floor and dragging away to the door.

you debate going inside and almost leave before you hear crying to your left, head snapping to connect eyes with a little girl at the doorway of said cabin. tears ran down her cheeks and there wasn't a spot on the little one that didn't basically drip or stick of blood, behind her wasn't any better. the shed door is slid open and machines used for woodwork have human body parts littered across them and blood dripped off the table continuously. you slowly went to grab the little girl, pulling yourself off the ground and dragging yourself towards the girl and she comes up to pick you off the ground, coming up off the ground the cabin just held more horrors the more sight you gained, a jail cell and a deep freezer in the back. no one is in this building besides whatever you think is in that meatlocker and all you could do is wince as you pulled yourself up against the doorframe and grabbed the little girl in your arms and pulling her through the wet forest. you can feel the blood on her smear across your bruised skin and you're forcing your entire body going to make it to where ever you need to make sure this little girl will be safe. it doesn't take to long to realize that you aren't anywhere.

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simon's pov

his blood still boils at every movement, said kidnappers tried the whole hanging him off the ledge but price worked harder this time at infiltrating this base and his lieutenant only made it easier. apc's, helicopters and an army of armed soldiers surrounded the armed base and once ghost had a gun in his hands on said roof after all these weeks of torture it was over. the aftermath is knowing his dog was dying and no one knowing where you were besides the lady who spilled stories from her dementia arcade and now you were the only one truly m.i.a. and cold. it's already been 2 weeks since the infiltration of this base and you've been gone for 2 and a half apparently. they record their comms but trackers are useless and now there's a full blown war between the black market entrepreneurs and the american military, everyone knows they're hiding more than drugs but here back at this 'new base' in the middle of the droc's territory with their only jurisdiction being you as the only missing soldier there's nothing that can legally keep them in droc much longer, afterall no one wants some sort of civil war. the thought that he might have to leave you after looking day and night for the past couple two weeks tears away his will to eat and he's going destructive on himself mentally but soap trying to help the best he can.

he's trying to appreciate what he can since everyone has been whispering that you're probably dead all day around him and alcohol made him cry for the first time in awhile so he hasn't even bothered to drink his favorite bourbon. crying over his dying dog and his missing girlfriend after he trudged his way in the empty infirmary and petting his nose and whispering affirmations of how much he craved the old life he once had. his thoughts run marathons of what you said to him about craving stability and no matter what he knows he can't bring that to you now. he's slowly starting to blame himself for it all, in these marathons he wonders if he heard you at night getting beaten. when they force their jurisdiction making him go back to main hq back in the u.s back in the main base he fills your room with himself and scout every night. his face burys itself into your pillows and he craves your scent that's gone from the sheets and he gave up his room for yours since everyone thinks your dead. a month has gone by and now he's on a 'suicide watch' from soap, he doesn't remember what he did the night before, hooked up on whatever he decided he was drinking at the bar but in the hospital room he woke up with his hands covered with bandages and price has to stop his best man from going crazy that night through his first genuine breakdown in the hospital. he had a rescue mission back to the droc approved for your capture in two days.

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y/n's pov

why could you have thought you could've ran away you think now. you think of if there's a city nearby and you wish that simon would brake the chains that hang around your ankles. you wish much more of simon even though you know that he would rub your bruised muscles and tend to your sores with a cup of tea for you to relax while he did it. he'd kiss around the mud and blood that stuck to your form and hold you close while he showered with you. scrubbing and kissing until the grime was nothing but dirt sticking inside the drain pumps until it drained to the sewers. you wouldn't even need to ask, no words would be said until you'd finally cuddle up to the dear man and cry yet your fingers shake as the false memory fades from your vision. in your eyes your hands you hold a hammer and blood drips down the whole mallet and off your fingers. below your hands lay your captor this time and your ears gain back some of their hearing from you basically blacking out in anger and the girl next to you quietly sobbing behind you before running to get this guy's keys in the office.

you don't even remember if this is all his blood, you've been a captive in this shed since he grabbed you that day. you hadn't gone a mile before he noticed you with 'his girl' and beat you until you woke up with chains around your limbs in the middle of the night. your skin feels like it's his at this point, it's clammy and now like the little girls even though hers is worse. he kissed you two sometimes when he walked past the two of you these last couple of days, rubbing your shoulders with his dirty hands and even going so far as to lick blood from the people you've been skinning. while you were doing this he would chuckle almost as this was some form of sick amusement throughout his 'teachings'. you know he's touched the little one in some ways and she doesn't even flinch when he rubs her. you haven't slept and he kept you up with whatever drug he was able to put in the slop he serves or needles he shoves into your arms. some of the bodies here were people from the city you could only guess and others were human trafficking victims. back in the infection cabin that you once lay after being tortured for those weeks was only practice for the true smell that you've grown accustomed to. the blood that drips off your skin and the horrors of gutting people are a sin only something higher should be allowed to do.

you truly know that this was the only way to stop all of this. there's been no help anyways all this time and you know no one would help you. you know beyond the fantasy realm that truth that simon would probably not want to go into this building and or even touch you from the smell you've been stuck in, the blood that drips from your skin and the skinnyness of your bruised body. your superiors would look at you strangely and puke as they knew you killed and skinned people for what you hope is the black market but you don't know as much as you did back at the infectious cabin but the little girl who steps over the man infront of you does. you wonder if she knows too much, the pout of concentration on her face was all of her effort and she's trying so hard to stop her hands from shaking and her face doesn't even falter as she takes the bloody hammer from you and lets it fall like it weighed nothing onto the dead man's stomach. it's disgusting almost how this was muscle memory to her even through her shaky hands, the thought that she's tried getting out of here plenty of times as she unlocks the massive amount of locks on the chains around your ankles and wrists quite expertly and fast and even goes to try to grab you when your body finally relaxes really is making your stomach curl. once she realizes that you can relax comfortably and you lean into the bloodied table in front of you she tries to let you but the floor takes you down with it regardless. the slip isn't hard it's in fact very slow and the blood pile on the floor is bleeding into the roots of your hair as you watch the girl go and save the newcomers that just came in this morning. they're not dead but it's a fact that they would've been as they are freezing as they come out into the main area.

a woman gets excited seeing your uniform but when she looks at you all she does is sigh and pull you up from the bloody floor. once she's sat you down near the wall she cuddles up to you for warmth, none of the blood on you matters and she knows you did the final blow when she starts to clean you with her very cold shirt which felt very nice on the bruises that litter your skin. you're sore and this woman is softly going around all of the swollen areas without missing a beat. some people push out the little girl out of the freezer and there's around 15 of you now. some people come around you two to cuddle for warmth again and pull you out of the blood pile and some are trying to break into this side office. three out of the seven are trying to break down the door and the others back away from the door watching the others go to try again but some harsh brakes of a car squeal into the small cabin interrupting everyones actions. it stops in front of the shed and everyone quiets as multiple people talk outside. they're loud as they walk to the door and the little girl is the first one to move, running and hiding away in one of the cabinets while others grab medical equipment and hide away back into the freezer. you slip out of sight it's only quiet for a minute max while everyone grabs weapons before the door slides open and a couple of gunshots start to ring through the air, hitting walls and sliding people down the walls and someone started one of the three chainsaws fully but you heard the other two stutter and heard them struggling. all you could do was drag yourself into better cover and watch as one of the men who came in with guns catch your sight and aims only to get a saw ripped through his chest.

it was too fast for you to even comprehend, your body is on survival mode and adrenaline is ripping through your flight or fight as a saw sprays his blood over the shed causing your brain to stall as you closed your eyes and push yourself of the ground only to slip once again in the previous bloody chain pile. you have no strength to push yourself up but a chill of death forces you to protect yourself now otherwise you won't get another chance to. you flip with the chains that were once attached to your body in your hands and this saw catches the chains and blood spits at you once more along with sparks. they're too big to get caught in the moving track but it's making a disgusting noise and sparks fly into to your face as you push the chains up against the saw with a stomach grounded scream as you feel your muscles almost ripping from the lack of strength you have while you're pushing back. your screams penetrates the walls and echoes out of the windows across the forest to open ears searching for the bullets that ran through the forest earlier.

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simon's pov

price had been watching movement for awhile since they approved this mission after the droc took over that base. besides having alot of the missing personnel and weapons they left their comms completely open. price would listen to comms with simon for hours in the hospital while they worked through files instead of at the nearby base and a couple of days ago they said something about coordinates and sending someone to pick up meat. it didn't take long to realize that they weren't talking about the classic dairy that moves around the country. it was easy to make this mission a success yet there's something bugging him. their comms went dead one way and when they were almost to the coordinates the other side started trailing someone for a bit and during that, they caught their location quick. they were quiet around the forest and they blended in even with the snaps of sticks underneath their boots and this group of soldiers only moves faster when these shots rang through the forest towards the coordinates.

the shed was just ahead and a shrill sound of metal against metal is ringing just as loud through the forest as it rings in that shed, ringing loud enough to not hear you screams of pain. the group of the small military surround the building and come in from different angles. people go in through the office and the side windows and with the door already being open all it took was two steps to get in the shed and one bullet from soap's gun to the back of the man's skull to stop whatever was happening in the middle of the bloodied floor and a couple of other bullets to help some of the people struggling on the floor. bodies fall and the saw moves in circles wrapped in chains on the floor until someone stops it and all of the personnel in the shed take in the bloodied environment. a wheeze underneath the body of the sawman had price picking up the man by his shoulder and tossing it off of you. you, who had blood soaked into their clothes and bruises and fresh and dry blood surrounded all over the tears. the rest of all of the survivors walk out of the 'meat' freezer in amazement and the little girl runs up to you and pulling the bloody hair out of your face before walking to the office door which opens by one of the soldiers who got in through the window. the soldier basically runs out of the shed to puke and a putrid smell takes over the murky iron in the air.

the little girl doesn't care about the smell but she does start to cry when she looks through the door and simon watches as you wince and look away when she starts to sob at the picture in front of her. he rushes over to you now picking you up by your arm carefully before draping it over his shoulder with your codename on his tongue and you give him one of the most exhausted looks he's ever seen. you try to ask him about what's in the room and he knows you won't be awake long enough to listen anyway and he gives you an infamous kiss through his mask. you're in really bad shape and you need to relax and even your body craves it from the lack of color in your skin besides bruises and the way you start to drift off even here in his arms. its a mental block truly and one hundred percent his own muscle memory that makes him carry you better even if you're tinier than usual, the moment you're starting to slip he grabs you bridal style as if he's done it hundred of times before and you are asleep in his arms and relief is washing over his body like a drug. all of the squadron around the two of you are in awe at the blood they see on the walls, the people in the freezer and the survivors and dead bodies and what not but it's not his job to be focused on that at the moment. it's his job to focus on you even if when he turns to look at your face again the little girl is crying next to your face as he carries you, hand on your hair and crying about you being dead or whatnot and price separates her from you before he can say anything and his blood is cooling and the sun is shining a bit warmer.

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y/n's pov

the bed is comfy and you still feel exhausted regardless of how long you've been sleeping. you don't even want to recognize times and dates and your body was still sore as you moved from your side. you moved to get more comfortable to sleep more but there were three excited sounds around you when you moved. a shuffle from probably simon who sat at the chair in this infirmary and the little girl who gasped and sat up from her chair fast to come and walk over to your face and scout with a huff and a soft place of his head on your stomach now that you've flipped to your back. when you open your eyes you are eye to eye with the little girl, she's been crying excessively from the redness around her eyes and you know that she's nothing but an orphan now. the first time she talked was three days after your capture, the little girl was begging you to eat the 'food' in front of you, which you knew for a fact wasn't normal meat before you even saw it from the smell it made while the man was cooking. she begged you not to starve yourself and probably didn't want you to end up like her mom who was locked in that office. she told you that she needed to feed her mom and that all the man did was stay and guard the place, more so while you and her worked on the human meat cutting day and night. that was all that he fed also and you heard her mother didn't want to eat it for a long time. she grimaced in disgust and threw plates of food to be kicked by the man and when you started to not eat what the man placed in front of you she cried. there was a common ground of knowing how much you could truly handle when you got your hands on him the very first time when he grabbed you two out of the forest. he was big but if you had muscle and the previous starvation of the cabin didn't impact your throws you still would be in this same bed at the end of the day.

your eyes lock to simon and his are locked on the little girl who stares at you intensely in terrifying concern. there's a tenderness in his eyes and you know that he probably just couldn't handle the emotionless smart little girl. you couldn't either back in the shed.

"your mother? she didn't make it?" you mutter and she bows her head and walks away from the bed. when you try to sit up scout gives you a deep growl, not threatening but a small order that you shouldn't move due to the state of your body.

"scout's healing he hasn't moved from you since you've got back. three day sleep and we all slept together last night. we're keeping her. i'm learning to love the little shit. even if she's been a handful and a half, she distracts me." he states when as he scoots closer and kisses your iv'd hand.

"she's traumatized."

"i can tell. a great addition to our little family."

"glad to know we've trauma bonded.. she wants to stay?"

"she hasn't complained about it. no way she doesn't understand. she's 12. both of them are dead and you're out of the field from here on out again. no more." he's firm as he slides keys into your hand with a cute keychain that have car and house keys. "i looked this time and it's big and by the lake in illinois. just something to start maybe? when you get better of course you can move where ever else you want to. where ever we want to." he suggests keeping his hand on yours. "i'm in therapy, like you suggested but for other reasons of course. im on leave."

"gotta take pride that you didn't listen to me riley."

"you never listen to me either, hypocrite." he laughs, putting his clothed cheek on your hand and you can feel his relieved smile on his cheeks and see it in the way he closes his eyes. it stays like this for awhile, the two of them cute and sleeping together every night in the small chairs and all eating together in the small infirmary before you're able to leave. the three of you are a cute family for the past year. simon actually had alot of therapy he didn't mention, a 'punishment' from price so his afternoons are occupied. you didn't mind too much honestly, you enjoy the sight of the balaclava in the morning at your kitchen table when he's drinking tea in a tight t-shirt and after his evening workouts in the home gym before he finds you around the house. morning 'yoga' you and little nakimera and he always let you rip off the mask when he gets home after long afternoon meetings and loves to slip a room away from the little girl who is preoccupied by her sketchbook to lovingly complain between kisses about you ripping off his mask while cornering you. anti privacy tint outside all of the windows, a 2 car garage and a room that locked away all of the house weapons in the garage. you two have made the house beautiful and all three of you even worked on the backyard, a beautiful private patio that covers the jacuzzi in the back and opens with blinds to look out at the backyard. the dream simon provides you leaves your blood on fire and your heart thumping every once in awhile.

he always takes you in as you lay in your underwear scribbling away in the bedroom and you can always seem him out of your peripheral. his eyes are caught in the fairly lights and fake leaves that hang from the ceiling like stars or fireflies or something and he admits in the late of nights that he never really knew what you were going for there but it worked on making you look godly. even now when he could feel how tense it felt in the house when he snuck in the afternoon a bit too late. the bedroom door is wide open and scout doesn't bark at him when he walks in, tail wagging and a loyal sit of excitement when he looks up at him. alot of training was done with his dog now one on one and he enjoyed every second of that training. but even with your extensive years of training you still never hear him sneak in. he's better than you strategically and he takes pride in that as he gives scout a nice fat bone into his mouth keeping him quiet as he shut the door softly. his keys are silent and his footsteps are as silent than scout's pawpads against the clean floors of the shared home, the jingle of his bell hiding his antics easier. he legit just lets his full weight onto you in your shared bed and you wheeze and shoot a glare. he slips a paper on the sketchbook and it's the completion of his classes. you move the paper and drabbles of how the guys face looked in your journal from the guy who you saw on the run that day and a gruesome sketch of the room in that shed, your eyes are dark as if you've been scribbling there for awhile, thinking about it.

"so you're gone?"

"they've already asked me to be back." he says pushing the journal on the floor. "tomorrow." he murmurs against your skin. "are you going to be okay love?"

"yes sir." you say biting the inside of your lip softly as he kisses up your neck and whispers hot on your skin.

"i'm going to find him for you, stop thinking about him. that's an order. i'm already on it pretty girl."

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