#schofield x reader

[storiesforallfandoms]

early morning ~ will schofield;1917

word count: 2203

request?: yes!

@lilah1020​: “Imagine Will schofield fluffy smut with wife reader”

description: on a rare occasion when they wake up before their children, they decide to take advantage of the time to be intimate

pairing: will shofield x female!reader

warnings: swearing, smut (oral - f receiving, unprotected p in v, praising, dirty talk)

masterlist (one, two, three)

Having two children - especially two young children at that - meant very little “alone time”. The girls were usually the first ones awake in the house, and thus would run into their parents’ room to wake them up. Between work, house chores, and looking after the kids, there wasn’t much time for Will and (Y/N) to be alone. And by the end of the night, when the kids were bathed and in bed, they were just too tired for any form of physical intimacy.

It was hard. Not that either of them thought they needed physical intimacy for their marriage to work. After their oldest daughter was born, they knew sex was going to be few and far between, and they definitely knew that’s how it would be after their second daughter was born. They were aware of it, and they were more than okay with that sacrifice at first. But the complete lack of sex had been hard for both of them.

It was a rare morning where (Y/N) wasn’t woken by a tiny body jumping on her. Her eyes slowly blinked until the sleep was completely out of them. The room was quiet. In fact, the whole house was quiet. No small voices yelling, no hushed voices beside her as Will tried to convince the girls to let their mother sleep. Nothing. Just silence.

(Y/N) rolled over to see Will sleeping peacefully beside her. She smiled as she looked at his handsome face. Every day she thought to herself about how lucky she was to have him; how lucky she was to have their little family.

As if sensing her eyes on him, Will slowly stirred. He opened one eye, then smiled as he closed it again. “Good morning, love.”

“Good morning,” she responded.

“Where are the girls?”

“Still asleep.”

Will had stretched his arms out, but paused after hearing her response. “Really?”

(Y/N) nodded. “Listen.”

They both paused, taking in the silence of the house. Will looked shocked at the revelation. “They’re asleep? They actually are not awake before us for once?”

(Y/N) giggled and nodded again. “I guess they were really tired after last night.”

The night before, the Schofields had been to a neighborhood celebration that included a barbecue and fireworks to end the night. Will and (Y/N) had let the girls stay up late so they could enjoy the festivities. By the time they got home, the adrenaline (and the sugar) from the night was finally wearing off and, within seconds, they were asleep.

Seemed it was enough to keep them asleep past their usual wake up time.

Will looked like he was still trying to understand the fact that his daughters were actually still asleep. (Y/N) was still pretty shocked herself. She was almost convinced that she was dreaming, and she would soon actually be woken up by her two energetic daughters.

“Love,” Will said.

“Yes, darling?” (Y/N) responded.

Will took her face in his hands and pulled her into a kiss. It was passionate and needy from the moment their lips met. (Y/N) took hold of Will’s shirt, clenching the material between her fists as she held him to her. One of his hands moved from her face to slip under the night shirt she was hearing. When his hand touched her bare skin, it ignited her. It left a fiery, tingling feeling in his wake. One that trailed down her body and between her legs. She was yearning for him. She needed him so desperately, just from kissing and a few gentle touches.

Will slowly laid (Y/N) on her back, his lips still attached to hers. When he pulled away, she tried to follow him. He chuckled and eased her back down on the bed. He moved to her neck, kissing the soft area all over until he found the spot that made her whimper. He kept his focus on that spot, sucking and biting until he was sure he had left marks. He pushed up her night gown to expose her breasts. She gasped as he put his mouth to one of them, circling her nipple with his tongue. His hand fondled her other breast, rolling the nipple until it was hard and pointed, then took that one in his mouth as well.

A moan slipped from her lips. She quickly covered her mouth as Will’s mouth let go of her breast to shush her.

“Sorry,” she said in a whisper. She put her hand back over her mouth as his kissing continued downwards.

He left wet, open mouth kisses over her stomach and down towards her mound. Her breath hitched and a muffled whimper came from around her hand at the feeling of his hot breath against her already dripping wet pussy. Desperation was rising within her. She was so close to begging for him to touch her, she didn’t even care how he’d do it. She just needed to feel him, to have him pull that release from her again like he always knew how to. But she didn’t have to beg, because he wasted no time in attaching his lips to her clit.

A gasp ripped from (Y/N)’s lips, her hand moving away from her mouth to grab hold of Will’s hair. She gently tugged it by accident, but it earned her a moan from him. The vibration from it sent shockwaves through her body. She bit down on her bottom lip to try and keep her moans quiet, but it felt almost impossible. She hadn’t felt this good in a long time, and it was hard to not let that out. His tongue against her felt heavenly as he licked long stripes from her pussy to the tip of her clit.

“F-Fuck,” (Y/N) whispered. “God, Will, that feels so fucking good.”

Will peered up at his beautiful wife, writhing in pleasure above him. Her eyes were shut and her head was thrown back, with one hand in his hair and the other gripping the sheets beneath her. She looked angelic, and her quiet noises of pleasure definitely sounded like they were coming straight from a heavenly angel. He wanted to be inside her desperately. He needed to feel her warm walls around his throbbing hard cock. But he wanted to make her feel good first, because he wasn’t sure how long he’d last once he was inside her.

“Are you close, love?” he asked her, continuing to stroke her clit with his thumb while his mouth was absent. She nodded, her eyes still tightly shut. “Look at me, my love.”

She managed to force her eyes open to look down at Will. He smiled at her face, already fucked out and he hadn’t even fucked her yet.

“Cum for me, my love,” he coaxed. “Cum for me and I’ll give you what you want.”

The minute his mouth pressed against her again, she did exactly as he requested. Her head fell back onto the pillow again, and she quickly clapped a hand over her mouth as the pleasure tore through her. Will lapped at her pussy, taking every last drop of her juices as if he needed it to survive. Her body trembled so violently that she wasn’t sure it would ever stop.

Her head was fuzzy, in a good way. She felt like she was on cloud nine as Will kissed up her body again. He placed a sweet yet passionate kiss against her lips. She could taste herself on his mouth, which just turned her on again.

Will stood from the bed just long enough to pull his boxers off and kick them to the side. (Y/N) all but yanked him back to the bed when his lower half was naked. His hard cock pressed against her thigh as his lips found hers again. Her hips bucked in an attempt to gain some friction between them.

Will chuckled. “Impatient thing, aren’t you?”

“We don’t have long,” she reminded him. “And you promised to give me what I wanted.”

“You’re right, I did promise that.” His tip nudged her entrance, earning him another gasp. “And I intend on keeping that promise.”

He pushed into her slowly, letting both of them feel every inch of his cock filling her up. He kissed her, letting his mouth swallow her moans. He lowered himself so he was pressing against her as much as he could without crushing her, resting his elbows on either side of her head.

“You feel so good,” he mumbled against her lips. “I almost forgot how good this pussy felt.”

“Please, Will,” she begged. “Make love to me.”

He kissed her. “You don’t have to beg, love. I’ll give you exactly what you want.”

When he slowly pulled his hips back and thrust them forward at the same pace, (Y/N) could’ve swore she saw stars. It was the simplest movement, but it brought so much pleasure that it made her head spin. She grabbed at his shoulders to try to ground herself.

“You’re so beautiful,” Will whispered as he continued his slow thrusts. “God, I’ve missed seeing you like this. You’re so gorgeous when you’re all wrapped around my cock like this.”

Her only response was another moan. Will decided not to quiet her this time. He missed hearing these sounds. He wished he could record them to have with him whenever he was away from her.

He kissed her, sweetly. As if he was giving her a good morning kiss and wasn’t buried deep inside of her.

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you, too,” she responded. It was the only coherent thought in her head. “I love you so much. Fuck, Will.”

“Do you feel good, my love?” She nodded. “Do you think you could cum one more time for me? I promise I’ll fill you up after.”

She nodded again. Will reached between them and started rubbing circles against her clit as his thrusts started picking up. (Y/N) barley had time to register her orgasm before it was already upon her. Will pressed his lips roughly against hers to stop her loud cries of pleasure. Feeling her tightening around him made him cum shortly after she did, his thrusts stilling so he could fill her up like he promised.

They weren’t sure how long they were tangled together, coming down from their climaxes. All concepts of life outside of this moment was lost on them. They just knew the lightheaded feeling of post-orgasm bliss. Will was pressing kisses against (Y/N)’s neck and jaw. She sighed, content to stay this way as long as possible.

Which, unfortunately for them, did not last nearly long enough.

The creaking of a door alerted them first. Their daughters’ bedroom door had always made a noise when it opened. Will had been saying for as long as they could remember that he would fix the door, but had never gotten around to it. Now it seemed to be their saving grace, the only indication that they had mere seconds before two little girls ran into their room.

Will pulled out of (Y/N) and tumbled onto the floor. (Y/N) stifled her laugh at his pained expression as she fixed her night shirt, covering the sticky mess between her legs. Will frantically grabbed for his boxers and pulled them back on just as the two girls rounded the corner and into the room. Their youngest daughter immediately jumped into bed, while their oldest looked at their father in concern.

“Daddy, why are you on the floor?” she asked.

“I - uh - I fell out of bed,” Will responded. “Got all tangled in the sheets as I was trying to get up and fell right off.”

“Daddy is a little clumsy this morning,” (Y/N) added.

“Is it because you were up so late last night?” the youngest girl asked.

Will nodded. “Yes. Yes, it’s definitely because of last night.

Their oldest got onto the bed with (Y/N). (Y/N) put both arms around her girls and pulled them close to her, kissing them on top of their heads.

“You both slept in pretty late,” she said.

“Because we stayed up late,” the youngest said. “Like grown ups do.”

“Don’t get used to it,” (Y/N) said. “You’re not growing up any time soon. In fact, I’ve decided that you’ll both be my little girls forever.”

Both girls started to speak at the same time, protesting their mother’s decision. Will chuckled as he leaned across the bed to also kiss his daughters.

“What do you girls say we head downstairs and start making breakfast? Let mummy get herself cleaned up for the day.”

He shot her a look that made her face heat up. The girls agreed and bounded out the door again before Will could follow them. He and (Y/N) shared a look before chuckling. Will leaned in to kiss (Y/N) one more time before reluctantly tearing away from her and their bed.

“I’m keeping them up until midnight tonight,” he said as he started walking out the door. “Maybe then I’ll have you all to myself tomorrow morning.”

[pennylanefics]

A Promise | Part 2 - William Schofield

a/n: it has been a while!! i rewatched 1917 the other night and my love for the film and characters has been reignited, so i decided to finish this fic that i wrote almost three years ago! i am so happy that i was able to finish this and hope you enjoy <3

read part 1 here

WARNINGS: mentions of death

word count: 3,856

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Silence hangs in the air as Will stares at you in disbelief. He had no idea what to say or how to react to this sort of confession whatsoever.

“What?” He mutters out, eyes widening in fear, even backing up away from you a little bit.

Your chest felt so tight the longer the silence went on, like it was suffocating you and you couldn’t escape it. With some deep breaths, you calm your erratic breathing, but your hands were still shaking like a leaf in the wind.

“Ever since you started, um, coming around and visiting us…I’ve…I’ve really fallen for you, Will.” You have yet to meet his eyes, terrified of seeing his reaction through them. “And I didn’t know how to go about telling you because I’m so worried.”

Again, Will says nothing, and it was starting to get really discouraging. He truly had no idea what to say or what to feel. But deep down, he felt something. And that’s what scared him.

As he was going to finally speak, Percy’s cries erupt in the otherwise still household, and he shoots up, finding it a perfect excuse to get away from this conversation. The second he is out of the room, you burst into tears, covering your mouth to hush your own cries.

You take the chance to make an exit of your own, running right towards your bedroom and shutting the door just loud enough to let Will know that you were no longer on the couch waiting for him. Hearing this, he lets out a soft sigh, glad to know he can have the rest of the night to think over things and gather his thoughts.

Percy had thankfully quieted down as Will rocked him slowly in the rocking chair of the corner of his nursery. Looking down at the three month old baby in his arms, he shakes his head, seeing a striking image of his close friend who he misses so dearly.

When the baby was fast asleep, Will carefully puts him in his crib and walks out of the room, keeping the door cracked ever so slightly just in case he cries anymore. Looking down the hall, he sees your door completely shut. As much as he wants to walk right up to it and talk to you, he turns away and steps into his room, deciding to give you the space you need.

The days following your confession, you try your best to avoid Will at all costs. Unfortunately, since he is the father figure for your child, it was very difficult to do, but you managed to keep conversation and chatter to a minimum whenever you did.

Iris had even noticed the tension with the two of you, and pulled you aside one day when Will went into town for some groceries.

“(Y/N), honey, is everything alright between you and Will?” You two were baking some desserts for a few neighbors since the snow was finally starting to melt away from the winter storm a couple weeks ago and people were now able to get out and see others and deliver things.

Sighing, you set the whisk down in the bowl of batter you were mixing and look towards her. Thinking for a moment, knowing that you were going to spill all of the feelings you had inside, you go back to whisking the mixture for the moment.

“Let’s get this last batch into the oven and then I’ll explain.”

You knew you had to be quick with things, as Will could be home at any point of time, though he’s only been gone for less than an hour, trips to the local market took far longer than that usually.

Finally, you get the tins into the oven and set the timer when Iris bringing you to the living room and sits you down on the couch next to her. She waits for you to be the one to start the conversation, not wanting to push anything.

“Um, I’ve felt this way for a little while now, but I have really fallen in love with Will,” you tell her first and foremost. “And navigating these feelings has not been easy.”

“Darling, that’s beautiful. So why has everything felt so tense between you two then?”

With a pause, you fiddle with your fingers for a moment before you start tugging at a loose string on your dress.

“I told him and he didn’t react well. He said not one word about it, and then ran off when Percy started to cry. That was almost a week ago and we haven’t spoken much since. I don’t know what to do, Iris.”

“In terms of interpreting how he reacted or feeling this way?” You take another moment to think about her question.

“Both. I love him very much, I’m entirely sure of that, but…it feels wrong.” Getting this admission off your chest felt better than telling Will how you felt. This was the deep root of everything.

“Why?”

You take a moment to respond, feeling a little embarrassed and bad for feeling the way you do.

“It makes me feel guilty. Like I am giving up on Tom. I’m loving someone else when I promised him he’s the only one I’d ever love.” The tears brimming your eyes finally spill down your cheeks, and Iris is quick to hand you a handkerchief to wipe them away.

“Honey, I know it feels hard letting Tom go, but he wouldn’t want you to be miserable and attach to him when there’s someone else out there that makes you happy. And the fact that it’s Will, he would have been very elated, because he knows he can prodive you a wonderful life.” She pauses, listening to you sniffle and watches as you continue to wipe the non-stop tears away.

“I know he would want me to move on, but I hate that I have to,” you cry out, hiding your face in your hands as you sob loudly, everything hitting you once again. Iris gives you the time you need, gently rubbing your back as you let all of your emotions out.

“You shouldn’t have to, but you need to. I would hate to see you deprive yourself of something so wonderful, that you deserve, because you fear of forgetting Tom. I know you will never forget him. And loving Will doesn’t mean you never loved Tom or will stop loving him. I know my son meant the world to you, and nothing can replace the love you shared. But maybe this new chapter will do you some good, bring some light into your life.”

You think over her words and slowly nod, looking down at the sewn handkerchief she gave you, slightly damp from the tears you shed.

“Thank you, Iris,” you whisper, gazing up at her with a fond smile. She reaches over to squeeze your hand, her other hand raising up to your back once more.

“Of course, darling. I’m always going to be here for you in times like this.”

The two finish up baking for the day, preparing everything into an orgaized pile to distribute them tomorrow. Will, on the other hand, had quite an eventful morning before going to the market.

WILL’S POV:

Before I went to the market to stock up the house, I decided to take a little trip to see my mother and get her advice on this situation. I also planned on talking to Iris, but I needed my mother’s words first, she always knew the right thing to say.

“Hi, mum,” I greet her with a hug.

“Oh, it’s so nice to see you, my son. How is everything at the Blake household?” Gulping nervously, I take a seat on the armchair in the living room, as she takes a seat back on the couch, where she was currently knitting something.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about that.” I nervously wring my hands together and take a deep breath.

“What’s going on?”

“Well, you obviously know I’ve been helping the with Percy and everything else in general.”

“Yeah, and it’s going well, isn’t it?”

“Kind of,” I taper off. At this point, she sets her supplies down and focuses her full attention onto me. “(Y/N) told me she’s in love with me.”

She says nothing, her eyebrows furrowing a little bit in wonder.

“And…there’s a problem with that?” Her question throws me off a little. Was there a problem? Obviously there was, but why?

“I don’t know,” I mutter, shaking my head.

“Do you love her?” I’m stunned silent by her follow-up question, and suddenly, everything settles in. All the feelings I’ve been trying to push away the past few months, seeing how wonderful (Y/N) is and how beautiful of a person she has become, even in the face of tragedy of losing her lover and the father of her child.

“I think so,” I finally whisper after a few moments of thinking over things. “But I’m terrified, mum.”

She scoots closer, sitting on the end of the couch closest to me, and grabs my hands. My head raises to look at the serious expression on her face.

“There is nothing to be scared of, Will. If she loves you and you love her, there’s no hurt in seeing where things can go with each other. You’re already a father figure in that little boy’s life, it’s no surprise that you feel so strongly towards her.”

“What if I’m not enough?” My response leaves her speechless, she has no clue what to say. “What if I can’t give her what Tom gave her?”

“Listen to me, William. You cannot think that way. Tom may have been her love, but he’s no longer here. No two men will ever love the same woman the exact same way, things are bound to be different, but you won’t see that until you try. It could be so beautiful for the two of you, but if you’re held back by that fear, both of you are going to be miserable.”

Her words knock some sense into me and I sit there, nodding along to everything she says. Instantly, I feel a ton better about this situation, and have a small plan on how to fix thing when I get home, if (Y/N) is even up to hear me out.

“Thank you so much, mum,” I sigh softly, standing to give her a hug. She squeezes me tight, something she does when she knows I’ve got a lot on my mind and need love and support.

“I’m glad I could help. Now go talk to that wonderful girl and fix things!” I laugh a little and bid her goodbye, making my way into the town market to gather everything needed for the four of us back home on the Blake estate.

READER’S POV:

You were finishing up feeding Percy his afternoon bottle in his nursery when you hear the front door open and close, and Will’s voice greeting Iris, who sits on the couch reading a book.

She helps him bring all of the items from the market inside and the two of them take their time in putting everything away. You were still rocking Percy after burping him, but all you wanted to do was hide in your room to avoid Will as much as possible.

“Um, Iris, can I ask you something?” Will decides to ask her now, finding it perfect while they put things away and with you being absent for the time being.

“Of course, Will. You know you can talk to me about anything.” Will nods and takes a deep breath after placing a bag of veggies in the refridgerator.

“I don’t know if she’s mentioned it to you, but the other night, while you were away, (Y/N) admitted that she loves me. Well, she phrased it as in love, if there’s a difference.”

Iris chuckles softly and nods, grabbing cans of beans to put them in the cupboard.

“She did talk to me about it, earlier today. And she said that you didn’t react well.” Will nods in shame and sets down the cans he was holding, ready to put away.

“I went to my mum and asked for advice, because she always knows what to say. She…well, what she said and told me got me to think over things.”

“I can tell she really cares for you, Will. She may have loved Tom, but that doesn’t mean she can’t love you.”

“I fear that I won’t be able to love her as much as Tom did,” he admit to her. Iris sighs and walks over to stand next to the young man, resting her hand on his back as gently as ever. “Tom talked about her like she hung the moon and stars in the sky. I don’t know if I’ll be able to live up to the love he had for her.”

“You can’t simply live and think like that. I’ll tell you what I told her. Her loving you doesn’t diminish the fact that she loved Tom. While Tom did love her dearly, you can provide a different kind of love, and if she’s willing to move forward with that, I don’t see the problem.”

“My mum said the same thing,” he smiles a little, looking over at Iris. She offers him a small grin to him and drops her hand.

“Do you love her?” She asks after some time. The smile on Will’s face remains as he answers her differently than he answered his own mother.

“I do,” he says confidently.

“Then tell her. Because the both of you deserve to be happy, and I know Tom would want the two of you to be. It’s not that you or (Y/N) are going to forget him, but it’s healthy to move on, and I think you guys would be very lovely together.”

Will widely smiles at her words and finishes putting all of the groceries away.

“Go talk to her, last I remember she was putting Percy down for a nap.”

Will takes his chance to go find you, checking the nursery first. Upon quietly opening the door, he sees the light was off and Percy was in his crib, fast asleep. He backs out and leaves it cracked like he usually does before he steps a few ways down to your door.

It takes him a few seconds to gain the courage to knock on your door, and when he does, you don’t answer for a little bit. He thinks that you’re laying down for a nap as well, and as he goes to walk away, you slowly open the door and come face to face with him.

“Hi,” he whispers, gulping nervously. Gazing into his beautiful blue eyes for the first time in a week, your heart begins to race in your chest, all of your feeling still very clear for him. “Um, is this an okay time to talk?”

“Uh, yeah,” you mumble, stepping to the side to let him in. Shutting the door softly, you take a seat on your bed while he sits in the chair next to it, keeping his eyes on the ground.

“I’ve done a lot of thinking and talking to my mum and Iris, and I know you deserve answers as to…what happened last week.” You nod at him and wait for him to continue before you speak any. “I love you as well, (Y/N). I’ve had a lot of conflicting feelings and after speaking to them, things have become more clear and I’ve come to terms with how I feel.”

Will pauses to look up at you, his bright eyes shining with a few tears. His mouth opens and closes as he tries to find the right words to say.

“I have fallen for you. I pushed it away because I felt so much guilt and fear, I kept telling myself it was nothing, that what I was feeling was admiration for a friend. But I can’t keep pretending, you mean so much to me and I have fallen in love with you too. I was terrified of everything.”

“How do you think I felt, Will?” You finally manage to speak, your voice coming out rather choked and shaky. Tears were also threatening to spill over and Will stares at you in surprise. “I’ve had these feelings for a couple months, and so much guilt has surrounded me. Like I am a bad person for falling in love with someone that’s not Tom, the man I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with.”

“I’ve had the same feelings, sort of. I know I can’t love you the same way Tom did, and I know he holds a very special place in your heart. I am terrified of not loving you to that extent, to not be able to provide the love he gave you, that you deserve.”

“I know what I deserve. And you have given me something to live for after such tragedy. I never thought I could love someone the way I loved Tom, but falling for you has been so different, a good different. While I still love Tom and I always will, living in the past is not good. We have to move on and not get hung up on those that have passed. I will never forget the place he had in my life, but you…you have become such a special person to me, Will. And I can’t deny the feelings I have any longer.”

Will raises out of his seat to stand in front of you, grabbing your hands gently. Slowly, he kneels to the ground, and finally, the tears fall from your eyes, seeing the kind-hearted and soft look in his own.

“I promise you, from here on out, to give you a love that you deserve. I want the best for you and for Percy. I made a promise to Tom, and now I’m making a promise to you. To love you so deeply and to always be here for you, through everything. I know I won’t love you the way he did, but I will do my best, in my own way, to make sure you know you are loved and cared for, as well as Percy. You two are my life now, and I will do everything in my power to show you that.”

Without a response, you jump up and fall straight into his arms. But to make things more comfortable, Will stands up and grabs you, holding you tightly against his body, nuzzling his face into your shoulder. His large, muscular hands spread out across your back, and he never wants to let you go.

“I love you, (Y/N). I’ve truly fallen in love with you the same way you have with me.”

“I’m so thankful that Tom brought us together. I know neither of us want to get in the way of what he and I had together, but that doesn’t have to happen. We can love each other in our own way.”

Will pulls back to look at you and smiles so sweetly, a sight that you haven’t seen in a while. Your hand comes up to cradle his cheek and he leans into your touch.

“Have I told you that your smile is truly beautiful,” you whisper, your thumb softly stroking the apple of his cheek. He shakes his head in response and chuckles softly.

“You think so?” Going along with the silent answers, you nod your head before you lean forward and place the softest kiss on his cheek. A soft hum rumbles in his throat and he can’t help the way his heart beats like crazy in his chest. He’s never felt this way before, but everything was exciting him.

“Can I kiss you? Would that be okay?” Will asks quietly, not wanting to upset you or make you uncomfortable in any way.

“I’ve been wanting to since that night you got Percy to calm down,” you reply, referring to the night, about a month after Percy was born, when Will tried skin on skin with him and he instantly relaxed and stopped crying. He seems to know exactly what you mean, as it’s a memory he’s very clearly stored in his mind. But with your answer, his hand comes up to cup your face, his touch as tender and sweet as can be, and he slowly leans in.

In seconds, your lips press against his and it’s as beautiful as your first kiss with Tom. Though that thought is far in your mind, and all you can think of is Will. The scent of his cologne still lingering on his shirt, how soft his lips are and how you can taste the strawberry he stole while putting them away in the refrigerator. Your own hands trail up his chest and shoulders, resting on his neck.

Under your thumbs, you can feel his pulse racing, and you want to giggle so bad, but the feel of his lips pulls you back in and your mind is clouded with thoughts of him once more.

When the kiss ends, Will presses his forehead against yours, catching his breath. His eyes remain closed as he tries to calm his spiraling mind and breathing, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

“You’re so very special, my love,” he whispers, his breath hitting your lips. It sends a shiver up your spine and makes you want more of him. You barely even register the pet name, being so caught up with everything else.

“As are you, my hero.” He lets out another laugh and kisses you once more. The feeling makes your head spin and your knees weak, it’s a feeling you’ll never get over.

“Hm, beautiful girl. What do you say we spend the day next to the fireplace as I read to you?” He gently tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering on your face for a few seconds.

“I think that sounds wonderful. Iris is going into town soon to meet with her support group, so it’ll be the three of us for a few hours.” Will kisses your temple, continuing to rub your back comfortingly.

“I like the sound of that…the three of us,” he grins, looking down at you as your cheeks heat up, leading you to hide your face in his neck.

“It’s our little family.”

Your words seem to get to Will, and all of his emotions suddenly hit. But that fear isn’t as prominent as it was before, it’s a good feeling he gets when you say this. Hope fills him, and as much as it scares him, he welcomes it. Because even though things were going to be rocky in the beginning, he knew two things for sure.

His love for you was deep within him already, and he was more than ready to live his life with you fully by his side, as his lover.

—

tags from previous chapter: @thingsforimagination @fodenswhore

[ias2xoo]

☞𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐀𝐫𝐞

𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴; will schofield

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨; angst, war trauma, ptsd, arguments, smut included

..••°°°°••..

“ˢᵒᵐᵉᵈᵃʸ ᵈᵃʳˡⁱⁿᵍ, ˢᵒᵐᵉʷʰᵉʳᵉ

ⁿᵉᵃʳᵉʳ ᵒʳ ᶠᵃʳ

ᵈʳᵉᵃᵐˢ ʷⁱˡˡ ᶜᵒᵐᵉ ᵗʳᵘᵉ ᵈᵉᵃʳ

ʷʰᵉʳᵉᵛᵉʳ ʸᵒᵘ ᵃʳᵉ,”

The soft summer breeze sifted around your bare legs as you sat in your backyard. It was the beginning of April and you could already see the summer pink blossoms on the trees. Thus marking today the perfect day to have a barbecue. You & Will’s friends; Amy and Booker - whom he had met in the war - to spend the day with you.

“Oh, look at those clouds.” Booker exclaimed, hand equipped with a charred spatula flicking up towards those sky.

“Yes, they always look so beautiful this time of year.” Amy calmly noted as she sat in the lawn chair next to yours with a glass of lemonade in hand, handing you one as well.

“You tend to find yourself looking up a lot,” Booker murmured, eyes wandering a bit. A habit you often found your own William doing. A mindless habit, one you probably would never notice if you weren’t aware of what the two young men had been through. Booker never seemed to finish his sentence as Will walked out the house with a case of beers.

You stared at your fiancé’s back as he set the case on the table which also held various buns, condiments and drink for your little get together. It had been your idea at first, enlisting your neighbor and long time friend Amy who then convinced her husband for the barbecue. You had known Amy for years, originally growing up together then being there for each other as you both watched those you loved walk in to battle, some never returning.

But Will did, and you couldn’t wish for anything else. Every day spent waiting in the living room for that knock at the door, every night staying awake with the thought of his face - it eventually turning blurred and scarred behind your eyelids.

Yet even when he had came back, you felt some part you loved of him had been left and not to be returned. Forever lost on that battlefield with the remains of the war and other lost soldiers never to return to their families. And you hated to say it but you missed it. You missed when he would happily kiss your forehead, not grimace at the sight of your eye contact. You missed him yet there he stood.

Which is what he had done often since he had returned. He stood with a odd sense of uncertainty, that of a ex-soldier that was waiting to be ordered to return to the battlefield. His back - that he rarely let you caress anymore - seemed to shake with tension. You lowered your eyes as your heart ached, mind trailing back to the multiple arguments you both had had on the subject of his return. Where you would scream for him to just look at you again, with that look he once held of you. That look that held so much love and not sadness. Where he would just stare at you before leaving the house, not returning for hours. Your heart yearned for a man that had been lost amidst bullet showers and smoky fire.

As the soft jazz continued, suddenly Amy jumped up in excitement. The unexpected noise from the chair snapping shut undoubtedly causing the rigid tremor in Will’s throat. “Oh, I adore this song!” She sang, putting her finished cup on the side table.

“Yes, we know dear.”

“Mm, dance with me, Book.” She muttered as she kicked off her peach heels. You smiled at the image of your friends.

“Darling, I’ve gotta tend to the food.” He sang in the same tune. He seemed he didn’t mean his words though as Amy’s hand would later replace the spatula. They would enter a rehearsed routine to the jazz number. Their bodies seemed to melt into tune with each other as if they were made for one and other. You stood from the chair softly, smile still tight as you silently cheered on your friends.

In an effort to show your admiration to your fiancé, you turned to where he had just stood yet the yard was barren. This instantly took the smile from your face replacing it with worry. Had he gone again? Not to be seen for hours?

Leaving the jazz and laughter behind, you walked into the eerily silent house. It was empty save for your dog which you had gotten to keep you company all those years. You started with the entryway then the kitchen yet no sign of Will. Finally hearing a soft thump from the floor above you, you began your way upstairs to the bedroom where he awaited.

“William?” You whispered, slowly moving the door open with your fingers.

“Y-yes, I’m here.” He responded from within.

Your feet hesitantly trailed inside, eyes uncertain of what it may see. He sat with his back to you, crouched over attending to something on the floor.

“Are you oka-“

“I just needed a moment, is all.” He quickly shut you off.

Silence befell you both as the soft pangs from the vibrations of the music outside sounded throughout the room. Whenever he was like this you had zero idea how to comfort him. It was like he was a rose, beautiful but hurt to touch. Moments would pass before either of you would speak again.

You stood in place in front of the door as Will rose from the bed, car keys in hand. You starred at his clenched fist as he crossed the room to retrieve his jacket.

“Where are you going?” Seemingly not hearing your question, Will continued stopping in front of you, waiting for you to clear his path.

“Will,”

“I need to go.” He refused to make eye contact with you.

“William, please.”

“Move.” He muttered.

You didn’t speak. You had never seen him like this. His hands clenched tight, arms rigid and unmoving. It scared you for he was almost unrecognizable.

The next moments would go by in a flash. Will would slam the keys on the stand next to you, turning his back to you. You jumped backwards at the speed of his movements. His back seemed to rise and fall abnormally like he was out of breath. He moved across from you, resting his hands on the dresser that stood on the opposite wall.

Despite every bone in your body telling you to leave him, you stayed. You slowly began to move his timid breathing. You now stood behind him, hands hesitantly moving up his back but not touching it out of fear. “Will?” You murmured, finally trailing his muscles. “Baby?”

His back jumped at your touch before slowly relaxing. You felt it vibrate under your fingertips as he seemed to speak. “Hmm?”

It was then he would turn around, eyes slowly trailing up your form to meet with yours. They seemed to scream at you yet he stood perfectly still inches in front of you. Both your bodies pulled towards each other in a almost mindless motion.

Your hands carefully rose up to cup his face bringing towards yours. You both would envelope into a small kiss as if you both were slowly testing a invisible waters within each other. Slowly backing up towards the bed, you both helped the other undress.

Your fingers would make a symphony of his scars as you caressed his chest. He touched you as if you had blossomed into something new, marking words into your flesh to be revised later. You knew he’d come back yet he showed you he had never left. He showed you he had never truly left, that his touch had resided on you, his words traced your being.

He may have been through death itself yet you loved the man who walked out of it. And his touch assured you that you’d find him, wherever he was.

[xolt1ngs]

I’m Suft, I try my best to be somewhat active on here but don’t expect anything great. This account is 13+ but I of course can’t tell you what to do. Most of my writing will be x fem!reader and I don’t plan on using given names unless it’s a continuous fic.

Who I plan on writing for

James Hetfield

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley

John Price

Johnny ‘Soap’ Mactavish

Keegan Russ

Logan Walker

George MacKay/William Schofield

Requests are appreciated

[gotham--fc]

☔️

☔️: Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?

Okay so I have this idea for a fic that I don't know if I'll ever finish or post bc it's not x reader, basically it's Hilary feeling a type of way about being named captain when Kendall Coyne Schofield is out and she needs Coyne to like reassure her and make her see that she deserves to be captain and that she's not taking away from Coyne, idk if I'll ever finish it or post it but it's just an idea that I had in my brain that I couldn't get out and then kinda hyped up by Hilary playing bad and not seeming like herself and maybe feeling like she's undeserving of being captain idk if I'm making sense

Send me an emoji and I'll answer!

Prompts here

[blueeyedheizer]

A Little Light - Blake & Schofield x reader

WARNINGS: x

A/N: just so you know, this is NOT a romantic imagine. I purposely chose not to include any kind of romance cause that's exactly what made the original scene so beautiful & real :) <3

---

"Il n'y a rien ici. Nous n'avons rien pour vous. S'il vous plaît." (There is nothing here. We have nothing for you. Please.) Your voice was quiet but shaking, fear quickly taking over you as you revealed yourself, slightly stepping out of the dark corner you were hiding in. The knot in your throat tightened as you noticed the rifle the two soldiers were holding and you stepped back a little when their eyes met yours.

"Anglais...not German." One of them said as they both set their rifle down, holding their hands up. "Friends...we are friends."

"I'm Blake. And this is Schofield." The younger one continued, gesturing to himself and his friend. Feeling relieved as you understood they weren't a threat, you nodded your head and slowly walked out of your hiding place, hugging your arms close to yourself.

"You are hurt...." you whispered softly as you noticed blood on the back of Schofield's head. Taking a step towards him, you pointed at a chair near the fire. "Asseyez-vous." (sit down)

"Asseyez-vous, monsieur." (sit down, sir) you insisted as he suddenly began to sway, feeling nauseous.

"C'mon Scho, sit down." you heard the younger soldier say as he placed a hand over his friend's shoulder. The man swayed slightly before dropping into the chair. Slowly, you moved over to him and placed your hand on his, making him jump as tenderness was still foreign to him. You carefully parted his damp hair and accidentally let your finger brush over the wound, making him flinch. You apologized silently before reaching down and taking out a handkerchief, holding it against the wound to stop the bleeding.

"Il me reste un petit peu de désinfectant. Je peux vous le donner." (I have a little bit of disinfectant left. I can give it to you.)

"No..." the man answered before turning slowly to face you, your gaze locking momentarily. "Save it for yourself, in case you need it." he continued, his voice weak from pain and tiredness. After a moment, you nodded.

Then, a soft sound suddenly came from behind you, and both men's eyes shot open. Getting up carefully, you moved to the corner of the room and lifted up a baby from an old drawer that had been lined with cloth. The boys quickly followed after you, their eyes never leaving the baby.

"Bonjour ma puce..." (hello, sweetie...) you whispered, taking a sit on the dusty mattress that laid on the floor. You stroked the little girl's cheeks as she began crying, kissing her forehead and mumbling soothing words as Blake and Schofield kneeled in front of you.

"Shhh, je suis là. Je suis là. (Shh. I'm here. I'm right here.) Regarde. On n'est pas toutes seules. Tu dis bonjour?" (Look. We're not alone. You wanna say hi?) The little girl's cries subsisted as she laid her eyes on the soldiers, intrigued by them.

The two boys stared at the baby with a soft smile as she squirmed around and whimpered into your arms for a moment. Looking up, you could see the excitement glowing in the younger boy's eyes.

"Est-ce que— est-ce que tu veux la porter?...hold her?" you asked. You could tell he was unsure of what to do or say, not knowing if this was a good idea. Blake turned to Schofield who nodded at him after a few seconds. With a smile, you moved closer and carefully handed the baby over to Blake, not letting go until you were certain he had the hang of her.

"Make sure to support her head." Schofield spoke softly and Blake nodded as he started cradling her gently. The baby settled in his arms almost immediately, making him smile. Her big brown eyes were staring up at him and she reached up, trying to touch his face.

"She's beautiful..." Blake murmured as she grabbed his finger with her tiny palm and gurgled happily. Blake looked up at you with a bright smile before turning his attention back to the baby, softly stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. You and Schofield shared a soft look, appreciating this small heartwarming moment.

"She likes you." you whispered, smiling fondly at the scene in front of you, temporarily forgetting about the harsh reality of the outside world.

"What is her name?" Blake continued.

"Je ne sais pas. Elle n'est pas à moi..." (I don't know. She's not mine...)

Suddenly, the little girl's eyes filled with tears and a small cry left her throat. Blake tensed, his face falling with worry.

"She's hungry." You spoke as you reached out to stroke her tiny head. With a heavy heart, Blake handed her back to you, letting you cradle her. Placing your hand behind her tiny head, you carefully lifted her up to your shoulder, rubbing her back softly and whispering soothing words into her ear.

"Here. I have milk." Schofield announced as he pried the canteen from his belt, handing it over to you. You looked up at him, wearing a look of pure amazement and gratitude.

"Take these as well." Blake continued, before opening his pack and emptying his rations on the mattress. You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out of it. "Take them all, for you and her."

"Je ne peux pas—" you finally managed to blurt out. "Vous en avez besoin...gardez-les." (I can't— you need that food...keep it.)

Before any of them could answer, the distant sound of the church bell startled them, and with one last glance towards the baby, they stood up. You watched them confused, holding the child closer to you as you followed them.

"Qu'est-ce que vous faites? Attendez, s'il vous plaît. Il va bientôt faire jour. Les soldats, ils vont vous voir." (What are you doing? Wait, please. It will be light soon. The soldiers, they'll see you.)

"We're sorry." Schofield answered as he grabbed his rifle and walked to the doorway, Blake following closely.

"Attendez, je vous en prie. Restez." (Wait, please. Stay.) you reached for Blake's arm, and his expression dropped even more when he saw your frightened state.

"I'm really sorry, but we have to go now." he eventually tried to reason with you. "My brother, along with hundred of men are in danger." Blake answered. You hadn't noticed the single tear that rolled down to your cheek until you felt its salty taste on your lips. After a few seconds, you let go of his arm and nodded slowly, taking a step back. You wrapped your arm around the baby protectively but also for comfort as you watched them walk over to the doorway with their rifles clutched in their hands.

And before you knew it, with one last apology, you were left alone again surrounded by darkness and fear.

[propertyofwicked]

address - will schofield x reader

WARNINGS: none

summary: will helps a wounded soldier 

Before your brother had joined the war, you had dreams and aspirations. Yes, you knew you’d end up as a type writer for some law firm but it was the idea of a fanciful life that kept you going. So when your brother joined the war and your family received letters barely scraping over the horrors that he saw, you knew it was only right that whilst you were 17 you would train as a nurse. The moment you turned 18, you headed down to the registration office and signed up as a front-line medic. At age 19, you were in France, working for your country. 

On this particular day, you were sat in the med-tent a mile from the frontline, talking to a local French girl who had also joined as a nurse. The distance from the frontline however, didn’t not make you oblivious to the gun fire and shouts of men who had been sent over the top at 3am that morning. And therefore, it wasn’t a surprise when men being carried by their fellow soldiers interrupted the stunted conversation you were attempting with the French you’d picked up from the soldiers and the other French girls.

The meds and nurses dispersed, all tending to a different man and so you made your way over to a tall, dusty blonde man, who stumbled over to you. In his arms, he was supporting a limping man, who had a shot wound to his leg. It was your brother. You ran to him, taking his over arm and bringing him to a free table.

“Oh my god, Edward. What happened?” The question was more directed at the man who helped him over.

“I got shot,” Edward mumbled and you let out a small laugh.

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

Your brother glanced at the other man, and brought up a hand to point at you.

“Scho, this is my sister, and this is Sc-”

“Edward shut up, I need to get you sorted.”

Upon further inspection, you could see that the bullet wound had a bandage tied tightly around it to prevent further bleeding.

“I-uh, I did that to stop the bleeding. Do you need any help or?” Scho said as you observed the situation at hand.

“If you could grab be some water to clean it up that would be great,” You replied, returning a soft smile…..

A few hours passed, and the subtle panic your brother had been suppressing seemed to disappear as he fell asleep whilst waiting for recovery to take him to a hospital about 10 miles out. In that time, you and Will spoke about life, about your brother, about anything that came to mind. So as the vehicle arrived to take your brother and the other wounded to better care, it was time for Will to also go back to his trench.

“Will – thank you, for helping my brother. I honestly don’t know how to repay you,” You said, smiling up at him.

“When are you next on leave?”

“3 weeks time, why?”

He fumbles around in his left pocket and produces a piece of paper and a small pencil, warn down from continuous use.

“You’re address? You know, so I can keep updated on your brother,” He stumbled over his own words, fighting to get the last bit out as fast as he could. You smiled, and laughed lightly at his awkwardness. Taking the paper and pencil, your hands indicate for him to turn around as you lean on his back to write your address. When he turns back to take the paper, and is about to say something, the matron of the tent shouts.

“ALL MEN WHO ARE NOT INJURED, RETURN TO YOUR TRENCH.”

Will and you share a disappointed look and he turns to leave, not before taking your hand in his and leaning down to press a soft kiss to it.

“You better write to me now, or I’ll be extremely upset.”

“We wouldn’t want that now would we,” He smiles and turns, joining the other men who were walking back through the muddy trenches. Just before turning out of site, he turns his head round and sends a small smile and with that, he was gone.

[s1ater]

we meet again. george mackay x reader

summary: in which reader has met the angel of death on many occasions, always finding some way to get away, but what about this time?

warning/s: swearing, mentions of murder and death

slater’s note: i know some of you enjoyed this concept, so i thought i’d pop another one of these out

you had shook his hand greatly, have meeting him many times before, each on different occasions of the edge, where he greeted all before their great end.

“you haven’t changed,” you mumbled, gripping his hand tightly, eyeing him up and down with the suit he had on, the same suit he wore the first time you had met him, and the second time, and the third.

“you say that every time,” he mumbled, huffing and looking away from you in what seemed to have been annoyance, but you should’ve known better, the angel of death doesn’t get annoyed.

“what’s it this time?” the two of you begin to walk, turning away from each other and allowing your shoulders to graze one another every once and awhile. “hit by a bus? food poisoning? murdered by a boyfriend?”

“funny,” his eyes grazed along the park view, paying closely attention to the people and animals that ran around in all their glory. “almost like all of those things have happened to you before.”

“well, i am the world’s biggest mystery,” you rose your hands in a proudness, “no one knows how i’ve escaped death so many times.”

“yeah, well, maybe not this time,” his voice was low, like he was trying to keep the words to himself, but failed as you rose an eyebrow, now looking to him questioningly.

“you sure, ole’ boy?”

“when am i ever?”

“the last four times.”

he shrugged, keeping silent and wondering to himself. it made you frown, now a little conscious to each step you were taking, wondering if this really was your time and you no longer could escape death.

“are we only crossing paths or are you really here to take me away this time?” your tone was flat and more serious now, no longer comfortable with the presence of someone you wish you could call a friend instead of an enemy.

“it depends,” he glanced to you, unsure of your path himself, but it felt different this time. he was sure your time had finally came to an end, but he could never be too certain due to thinking that the last couples of times he had came to encounter you.

the first time he had ever met you was at the age of five when you had walked straight out in front of a bus, unaware of all your surroundings and letting go of the safety of your mothers hand.

he had hovered over you, frowning, never finding pleasure in taking the soul of a young one. but strangely you had opened your eyes widely, like you had just been struck across the face and you had just realized.

you had survived.

the second time the two of you came across paths was the first time you had noticed him. there was something about him that made you feel safe even as an hour later you had once again almost touched deaths face with being shoved into the tracks of the subway by a stranger.

fortunately a woman quickly pulled you out, saving your life seconds before the subway could have ran you over. you were sixteen then, full of ambition and curiosity, causing you to forever wonder who the man in the black suit was on the other side of the tracks were, standing, and waiting for you to get trampled.

at eighteen you had eaten a bad piece of chicken on a birthday vacation, sending you for the bathroom of your hotel room, vomiting and vomiting until you laid weak against the cold tile bathroom floor, death soon accompanying you.

he held your hand lightly, analyzing your weak figure. your eyes barely cleared enough for you to tell who was holding your hand so comfortingly.

you were there for hours and he waited patiently, having no where to be but by your side like a companion.

eventually, the hospital was sent for and you once again slipped away from his finger tips.

finally, age twenty one you had come to realize who he was. you weren’t disturbed at all like many of the other people who had come to realize his position. rather, you found him comforting and someone there for you despite him quite literally only being there for your death.

he didn’t care for you as much as you cared about him. you found his visits exciting while he dreaded them.

but at twenty one you had almost been murdered by your very own boyfriend. he was shot dead before he could offer an explanation as to why.

you were only stabbed once, that being in the stomach. and although you seemed to be so close to your end, you pulled through, once again escaping the angel of death.

“if you’re so tired of our encounters, kill me yourself.”

“that’s not how it works.”

“i’m sure it could.”

“i’m not going to kill you.”

you pouted teasingly, “awh, boohoo.”

he rolled his eyes, “i’ll find you when it’s time.”

°•

with your heart in your throat you watched the scene unfold right in front of your eyes. so quickly and so easily, you almost thought it wasn’t real til you heard the screams that very much were, causing you to clench your jaw, wincing.

a man who’s identity that was concealed behind a black ski mask tightly gripped a young woman. it seemed that what may have been a mugging now turned into a kidnapping as he attempted to lug the girl into the back of his car.

“hey,” your face turned red and you couldn’t help but yell as you cautiously crossed the road, slightly unsure of your actions, “get away from her!”

your words only struck panic in the man, quickening his pace as he tried to induce her, but she continued to pull and kick away from him, finding hope that she would get away from this situation.

you joined arms with her as you tried to pull her away from him and soon you did, somehow allowing yourself to be taken ahold of by the man in the ski mask and taking her place as she ran despite your yelp.

you were caught off guard, being shoved into the back of his car, and then suddenly feeling a blunt force knocked against your head. your body went limp and you felt your vision slowly black out, but not before you caught the sight of the angel standing within the shadows, seeing through to your capture.

°•

black.

you vision was black and spotty till light suddenly flooded your vision and pain consumed your body like a flash of lightening. you didn't come to realization of what had happened until you saw him.

he sat across from you in a chair with his hands clasped, examining your face intently, waiting. you knew what for. and you truly believed it would happen just from the position you were in; a rope bound to your ankles and wrists, your body lying against the carpeted floor of what seemed to be a bedroom.

"help me."

"you know i can't help you," his face was blank but you could see a dash of sympathy that dotted his eyes as he slightly tilted his head to look at you better. "it's your time, but you need to breathe while you still can."

you coughed, feeling your voice at a strain, "no it's not." you rolled your head, observing your surroundings the best you could with your vision that was still slightly clouded. "it's not my time, i'm not going to die like this."

he watched you struggle as you maneuvered your body so you could attempt to stand or kneel or anything that wasn't laying. he almost found you pathetic—the way you got yourself into this mess. you were so much smarter than that and with all the misfortune you had been through, he would have hoped you'd be just a little more careful.

"he'll be back soon," the angel mumbled, still watching you go. "if you don't want to die, you'll have to be more sensible."

"don't tell me how to be sensible," you attempted to crawl toward the nightstand, hoping to break the rope with something in the drawer. “you might as well not speak if you aren’t going to help me.”

and then he was gone. vanished. disappeared. out of sight. he no longer sat in that chair.

you sighed, but continued worming your toward the drawer with persistence. you almost made it to the drawer to if it weren’t for a large grip pulling you back to the ground roughly. no mercy was shown as the man flipped you over to your back, fuming.

“bitch think you can get away,” he's straddling you now and oddly begins to untie you even as you struggle beneath him, just waiting to hit him and run. "you think you're so fucking tough, let's see how you deal with this."

once your arms are untied he moves fast to your feet but not before raising a gun, daring you to try anything. you stay back despite your skin crawling, begging you to run or move or do something that wasn't just sitting there.

the aching feeling finally got to you and you slung your foot on the side of his head the moment you felt the ropes loosen around your ankle. you got up fast only to trip again and he was quick to gab your leg, still clasping the side of his head in pain on the ground. you shook your leg vigorously, kicking him in the head multiple times as hard as you could till he let go. you got up fast and ran out the door.

"you fucking bitch!" he was already up barely giving you time to navigate your escape. "i'm going to kill you!"

you pushed into a room, locking the door, and finally catching your breath. you felt you couldn't process it—whatever this was. it didn't feel real and you almost questioned if this was a dream until the violent stomps of the man came rushing down the hall, causing the floor beneath you to vibrate.

"oh fuck," your hand shook as you lightly clamped it against your mouth, now searching for a light switch as your other hand swiped against the wall aggressively. "fuck."

you wished you didn't find that light switch. it would have been better to be left in the dark. but light still flooded in and with that the bloody body with an unintelligible face was sunken in within the bathtub. you let out a horrified scream, quickly covering your mouth in fear.

your whole body shook now and you wanted to cry. the reality of death became more clear and you wished the angel would have been here to comfort you.

"oh god-"

"i know you're in there!" the door begun to shake as the man on the other side pushed against it, wriggling the locked door handle. you became overwhelmed as you looked around the room, trying to avoid the body in search of some object to use as a weapon. you came to the conclusion that if you were going to leave alive, you'd have to hurt this man.

"open this door!"

you begun to shuffle around in the drawers quickly the moment he began to slam his body against the door. grief took over your body to the point the only feeling flowing through your body was an uncomfortable tingling, making you not want to move if it weren't for the fear of your life.

you almost gave up just as the door did and after that, your sight went black.

°•

you woke up to your head pounding and your arm screaming in agony. you forgot where you were. you couldn't think straight and your sight was barely clear as the only thing that you could clearly see was blood.

"hopefully, this taught you something," his tall figure hovered over you, examining your face, almost as if making sure life still bloomed in your eyes.

you didn't say a word, you almost didn't recognize him and you swore you were hallucinating. but laying in blood, you watched him go, and you knew this wasn't your time and the body he came to collect, wasn't yours.

navigation.

@transias @cc13723things @skateb0red @black-rose-29

[michelle-is-writing]

Sunny days, Will Schofield

Word Count: 1.4k~

Mornings used to be dull and boring before Will got back from the war. Everyday felt the same; wake up, get ready, work, come home, eat dinner, and fall asleep. The only thing I looked forward to were the letters Will would send me from time to time, but unfortunately, there were points where I wouldn’t hear from him for weeks until dozens would show up one day. There was no fun, and there was nobody to have fun with. People came and went with every developing aspect of the war, and with the constant flux of officers stating another soldier’s passing, joy was hard to come across.

It was only when Will came home that I remembered what it was like to smile. I laughed for the first time in what felt like forever when he told me I had become even more beautiful than the day he left. I got to feel my heart beat as it synced with his once again. I cried like any other day before then as well. However, the reason for my crying that specific day was different. This time the tears were filled with happiness and relief rather than sadness and worry - two complete opposite feelings.

The first night spent together was something indescribable. There was so much to say, but as soon as Will started talking, he’d stop and sigh as if he was getting too ahead of himself. That was when I’d lean up toward him and kiss his cheek, assuring him it was okay. Thankfully, he’d continue on after that without many problems, but those came later unfortunately. I knew he changed during the war - that was obvious - and I knew he might have troubles sleeping at night.

It took nearly five months for Will to get a full nights sleep. The nightmares still came, but they were less severe, and when they did come, I always woke up to them. Will felt guilty for that, but I never got upset. I was glad to help him get over it, and during one particularly rough night, Will confessed to me that he believed his nightmares were going away because of me. At the time, I felt like I wasn’t doing enough for him, but in that moment, he said the exact words that I needed to hear.

Now, the mornings were something I had to get used to. However, it wasn’t a bad thing - in fact, I welcomed it. Instead of getting up and doing what I did every morning, I woke up to something different every day. Some mornings I would wake up to Will pressing kisses to my neck or cheeks, and some mornings I would wake up just to do the same with him. Any time this occurred, it always ended up in giggles as we were reminded of the simple fact that our silly teenage love never went away - even when we became adults and time separated us.

Today, this morning was different. Something woke me up, but I didn’t know what it was. My alarm clock hadn’t gone off, nor had the sun’s brightness affected me. The sun had barely risen, actually. I didn’t know what it was, and I couldn’t go back to sleep. Instead, I stayed up for a few minutes with my head resting on my hand and my eyes locked on Will’s sleeping figure. He looked so at peace when he was asleep; it was like nothing in the world could bother him.

It was in this moment I felt myself grow emotional with my thoughts. Tears graced my eyes while my throat seemed to shut in on itself. I wished Will could stay in his current state where he’s unbothered and calm. There were no thoughts of war or death clouding his mind. Just the small snores that left his lips while his eyes remained closed with exhaustion from the previous night.

It was only when I sat up a little in the bed that Will woke up. It was purely an accident that he woke up in the first place as I was trying to get up without disturbing him. Instead, I did the complete opposite

“What is it, baby?” He asked, voice deep with sleep as he turned to face me. His warm hand moved at the same time to gently run across my cheek, a small way for him to fully grasp that I was here with him.

Nuzzling into his touch, I settled into the bed deeper as I was before when I was asleep. Will stared at me as I did so, waiting for an answer as his eyes slowly opened. With every second, he was straying further and further from sleep, and ultimately, I felt bad. “Nothing, my love,” I assured him with a gentle smile. “It’s nothing at all.”

“It’s not even sunrise; what has you up so early?” He adds, his eyebrows furrowing as he pulls me closer to him by my waist. “Darling, you have to talk to me,” Will murmurs, his voice a bit sleepy, but still sincere.

After a few moments of trying not to cry directly in Will’s face, I bite my lip and shake my head. “I just... I can’t believe you’re here,” I confess, Will leaning forward to rest his forehead against mine. “I know it’s been several months since you got back, but for some reason, I woke up this morning and couldn’t help but feel... grateful,” I add, a few tears falling as I smile. “I have the love of my life back with me and nothing can top that.”

“Now you know how I feel,” Will murmurs, a smile of his own forming across his face. “Why do you think I stay with you in the kitchen when you’re cooking? Or even when you’re just cleaning or tidying up the house? I love to... watch you, as odd as it sounds,” his words cause me to giggle, his lips turning up more and he brushes my tears away. “Trust me, in some moments, it’s hard to face the fact that I’m actually home. Sometimes I find myself questioning why I got so lucky to come home to you, and then I find myself thanking the Heavens above for you entirely,” Will gives me a quick, but soft kiss. “You are my home.”

As soon as his words register, Will is having to brush away more tears as he tries to gently soothe my crying. “You’re my home too,” I whisper to him, my voice a bit hoarse. “For once, it feels like I’m at home now that you’re here,” I tell him, my eyes catching the tears now begin to grace his eyes. “I missed you a lot.”

“I missed you a lot too,” Will murmurs before leaning in close and pressing his lips to mine. He moves his hand that was resting against my waist up to my face once more, bringing our lips even closer. “I love you so much, baby,” He mutters, pulling away for a second before quickly moving back in to our kiss.

Now, we’ve made out and had plenty of fun since Will returned home, but no kiss or touch has been as powerful as this one. This is the kiss I have been waiting for, the “I need you so bad in this moment” kiss. His lips and hands may not be doing much, but the two combined makes my toes curl. “I love you too, baby,” I tell him, a moan almost escaping my mouth as his lips move down to my neck and throat. In an attempt to grab ahold of something, my fingers find their way to Will’s hair and embed themselves in his soft locks. As soon as I begin to do this, his soft, yet worn hands find their way to my hips and pull me on top of him with a gentle pull. Beneath me, Will smiles up at me as his eyes look over me.

“I’m all yours~”

[ditch-witches]

𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏𝚢 𝚐𝚎𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎 𝚖𝚊𝚌𝚔𝚊𝚢 𝚑𝚌𝚜

[trying something a little different, let me know what you all think :)]

♥ the two of you probably met in college through mutual friends at a party

♥ you had randomly asked him to hold your drink after one of your shoes broke and hurried off to the bathroom

♥ when you came back, it was like he had forgotten he was holding it as he started talking to your friend and looked at you weirdly when you asked for it back

♥ flash forward and he’s going through an “i will learn how to play guitar, even if it kills me” phase

♥ but he doesn’t start with the basics (of course). he goes right for learning the chords to a weird Scandinavian song he heard when he stumbled onto a foreign radio station

♥ or at least, that’s what he told you he was learning

♥ turns out he was trying to perfect learning a song he knew you loved

♥ man is a Grade. A. simp

♥ every morning he wakes you up with a steaming cup of tea in bed

♥ some days you show up to work to see a luscious bouquet of flowers sitting on your desk from him

♥ he leaves notes in unexpected places for you to find when he goes off to shoot

♥ after you move in together, you’d get home from work and he’s ready to shower you in love and affection (and tell you everything he learned from a documentary he watched for fifteen minutes during the day)

♥ the two of you love cooking together

♥ mainly weird recipes the two of you found online

♥ everything comes out terrible in the end though because George always has to “spice it up”

♥ usually you give up anyway, happy to order pizza because who cares

♥ as far as your friends knew, you were both great cooks

♥ George took the ideology behind “what’s mine is yours” very seriously, and applied it to most aspects of your already shared life

♥ whether it be car keys or clothes, it was shared

♥ George’s favorite thing to share happened to be personal space

♥ in the car, George’s hand was either tangled with yours or settled on your knee; maybe resting on the back of your seat---it really didn’t matter as long as he was in arms length of you

♥ when you usually went about your chores around the house, George would follow you around to help you or just “keep you company”

♥ it probably was because of how much you worked during the week

♥ he loves wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in your hair after a long day

♥ between pressing soft kisses to your shoulders, he’d hum in response to you talking about your day

♥ George was always on one side of the bed when you went to sleep, yet you’d wake up twisted around him in his embrace or on the opposite side without any recollection as to how you’d gotten there

♥ while you felt unkempt and sweaty, he was still dozing off blissfully, completely unbothered

[pennylanefics]

Hope is a Dangerous Thing - Will Schofield

July 23, 1917

Dear my love,

I am writing to tell you that I am okay. I have not been able to write much after some recent events that happened. I was in the hospital for a short while, but I am now back to the field. I wanted to come home, but my injuries weren’t severe enough for that. I miss you terribly and all I want is to see you again.

Love,

William Schofield.

That was the most recent letter you got from your fiance, Will. He’s been gone for three years already, and there wasn’t an end in sight anytime soon. You missed him so much, and every day, you were terrified of the worst case scenario.

Hearing from him gave you some hope that he would return safe, or at least return. From friends and people around town, soldiers returning from war weren’t exactly the same. So, a year later, when you finally got word that he would be returning, you prepared yourself.

Jumping in his arms after four long years was an indescribable feeling. You met up at the train station, which he had just gotten out of, and as soon as you saw him, you sprinted.

He didn’t say much, you were the one whispering how much you missed this and how much you love him. He just held you close, as tightly as he could, breathing your smell in, relishing in your touch.

You planned on staying with him and his family for a while, after his mother invited you to. She knew how much you missed him, just as much as they did, so she was more than happy to invite you in.

The first dinner with him back was quiet. You, his mother, and his sisters tried starting conversations with him, but he was short with answers. You could tell his sisters were confused and upset that their big brother was distant.

When Will finished, he stood and announced he was taking a walk before taking a shower when he got back. You help his mother with the dishes while his sisters went outside to play before bedtime.

As the weeks pass, Will hasn’t opened up much, still. You tried your best to help him through everything, like nightmares, PTSD episodes, things like that, but he’s still very reserved and to himself. At one point, you tried asking him about his time in the past four years, but he brushes the topic away as soon as he can.

One particular night, it was starting to affect you as well. You were losing hope.

“Hi darling,” Lorraine, Will’s mother, takes a seat next to you on the couch. She rubs your shoulder and you try to keep your tears at bay. “How are you holding up?”

“I hate not being able to help him. He always thanks me after he calms down, but I don’t feel helpful. I’m not sure what to do when he’s yelling and screaming and I can’t get him to wake up from the nightmare. I don’t know how to tell him it’s going to be okay when he’s having a panic attack, when I don’t know if he’s truly okay. I feel so helpless and I feel awful.” Your voice wavers with tears, and after a few seconds, you burst into tears.

What you didn’t know was that Will had come out of his room, to refill the water pitcher in his room, but he stopped when he heard your heartbroken tone.

“He’ll come around, love. I know he will. Iris mentioned it’s normal for them to not talk much about their experience. Tom was the same way with her. He didn’t open up about what he went through until months after he was home.”

“I don’t know what to do. I mean, do I continue to help him? Do I ask what I can do to help him more? I want to be a good fiance and I want to be there for him, but I’m not sure if I can be strong enough to do so.”

“You don’t have to stay strong for him. He knows you’re struggling just as much as he is. You’re allowed to hurt and you’re allowed to let your emotions out.”

“I just don’t want to put that burden of him comforting me because I can’t comfort him, and make it seem like I’m trying to guilt him.” Lorraine chuckles softly and hands you a handkerchief to wipe your tears.

“I’m sure he won’t think that. He loves you so much, and I think he would hate to think that you’re hurting just as much as he is.”

Will walks back to his room before either of you see him. He wanted to confess something to you.

Later that night, while you’re getting ready for bed at the mirror in Will’s room. He comes up behind the ottoman you were sitting on and wraps his arms around your shoulders.

“You coming to bed soon?” He wonders, pressing a kiss to your temple. You were a bit shocked. Along with not being super open, he hasn’t been very romantic and touchy with you. He went through a phase for a few days or so where he didn’t want to be touched at all, not even you playing with his hair or even holding his hand. You ended up sleeping in the guest room those nights because it was too hard to sleep next to him and not touch him.

“Yeah. I’m almost done.” He nods and walks over to the bed, crawling under the covers, watching you from his spot. When you finish, you hop into bed with him, keeping your space. But, again, he shocks you by sliding his arms under your body and pulling you a little closer.

“Are you feeling better?” You wonder, stroking his cheek as soft as ever. He leans into your hand, making a smile appear on your lips.

“I am. Thanks to you.” Your smile falters immediately at his words, your talk with Lorraine.

“I feel like I’m not doing a good job, though. I-”

“I overheard your conversation with my mum, love,” he cuts you off. “I know you’re trying your hardest, I just, I don’t know if I’m ready to relive all of what I went through.”

“And that’s okay. I don’t want to force you into talking about it if you don’t want to.” He quietly thanks you and reaches up to stroke your cheek as well.

“There is one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“While I was on a mission to deliver a message, I met this woman hiding underground in a town. I was running away from a German soldier and slipped under into her space.”

“Was she German?”

“No, French. She didn’t speak much English, and I’m glad I was able to communicate. She had a baby.” Your eyebrows raise in question.

“How old?” Will smiles and grabs your hand.

“Not even a year old. Probably six months. I gave her the food I had from the General, and I thankfully had milk for the baby, which I’m so glad I bottled up when I found it.”

“Was she alone? I couldn’t imagine being left alone with my baby in the middle of a warzone.”

“She was alone, but it wasn’t her baby. She found it then went into hiding. It was quite sad when she told me. I really want to know if she made it out safely.”

“Let’s hope for the best.” His expression drops for a moment.

“Hope is a dangerous thing,” he whispers, keeping his eyes on you. You could tell he was having a flashback, so you break the conversation.

“What did you and the woman talk about? How long did you stay with them?” The same expression reappears as he remembers the reason he was telling the story.

“Only for a short time. She attended to the wound on the back of my head for a moment, and that’s when I noticed the baby. She took a liking to me when I talked to her.” He smiles fondly, staring into your eyes the whole time.

“She asked if I had any children of my own. It got me thinking,” he begins.

“Thinking about what?” You continue.

“Starting a family.” Your eyes widen a bit as he waits for your response.

“You-you want to start a family with me?”

“I mean, yeah. We are getting married, which I hope will happen soon, once I’m a little bit more back to myself. But you’re the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with, so why wouldn’t I want to start a family?” You shrug and sit up, nerves suddenly hitting you.

Of course you wanted a family with him; but you didn’t expect it to happen so soon. This was also the first time he’s brought up having kids.

“I’d love to see you with a baby bump, feeling them kick my hands, talking to them every night. And when they get here, seeing you hold a baby we made together, out of love.”

“Would your mum be upset if we get pregnant out of wedlock?”

“We’re getting married, though. And accidents happen. We don’t have to mention that we wanted this earlier before we get married.”

Will sits up with you and brushes some hair behind your ear.

“You want to do this? Because I don’t want to rush you.”

“No, I do. I want to start a family with you.” He slowly moves to lay you back down and crawl on top of you.

“Want to start right now?” He whispers in your ear, placing soft kisses from your cartilage to your neck.

“I wouldn’t mind,” you smirk, reaching up to tug his hair gently.

“Gonna show you how much I love and appreciate you, beautiful.”

[withhowsadsteps]

the laptop stand / au!will scho

a/n: i'm back with something, hope you like it! this time it's au!will x reader, not tom. ps. i have NO clue if the term thesis is used in UK for bachelor's and master's degree or is it a dissertation?? Imma use thesis anyway because for me it's a more natural word choice

and i'm gonna apologize FOR ANY mistakes, it's late and i can't sleep so this is what i'm doing 🙃✌️

---

The exhaustion of the past week was clearly evident on the faces of the people studying in the university's library. The smell of fresh coffee someone just bought from the little cafe inside the library filled slowly but surely filled the air and woke her up from her daydream. She had been staring at this tall, handsome guy for at least 15 minutes. Not just because of his looks, but because he was using the book she needed the most for her thesis as a freaking laptop stand. She did not know how she could ask the guy to give her the book in the nicest and least intrusive way possible. She had asked the librarian if they had another copy, but the answer was no.

She slowly made her way towards him. The golden afternoon light hit his face from such an angle that made him look like a literal angel. His blue eyes seemed to shine like the clearest sea under the sunlight. Fuck. Her heart almost skipped a beat. His looks definitely worsened the situation a lot. He had airpods in his ears, so she also had to literally briefly touch him to get his attention. And so, she tapped his shoulder lightly. He took one of his airpods out of his ear and turned to look at her. She did not know, but the way the setting sun hit her face made his heart skip a beat too. The first thing that filled his mind was her beauty. "I'm so sorry I had to disturb you, but are you using that book for something else too or is it just your laptop stand?" she managed to say under his wandering gaze. Reluctantly he shook his head. "You can definitely have it, if you need it" he said and immidiately slipped the book from under the laptop and offered it to her. "Thank you, you just saved my thesis", she sighed, relieved. She thanked him once more and left him looking after her. Neither of them new, that this was not the last time they were going to meet. Turned out, he was a regular at the library. She never used to study at the library before, but she realized that it was easier to work on some of the sources she used for her thesis there. Some of the books were for in-house borrowing only anyway. So, she saw him around a lot. And he saw her. She had occupied his mind since the first day, but he was unsure if it was ok for him to ask her out. He decided to take it slowly. Each time he saw her, he choce a seat nearer and nearer until he was sitting across the table. She smiled at him but quickly turned her face towards the pile of books she had spread around her laptop. She had thrown her hair in a messy bun, but she managed to look very good nevertheless. She looked stressed, no makeup covering up the darkened circles under her eyes. He opened his own laptop and felt kind of out of place, since he only needed his laptop and one simple book. If only he could help her. After an hour or so, he decided it was time to go get a coffee. "I'm going to grab a coffee, is it too much if I ask you to keep an eye on my laptop? I'll grab you a coffee, too." he said to hear. At first she wasn't sure if he talked to her, but after looking at him and seeing him smiling, she nodded. "It's like you read my mind, I really need some caffeine" she laughed. When she finally got up to leave, she introduced herself and he introduced himself, too. William Schofield. The name sounded just as beautiful as he looked. They even exchanged numbers and from then on, they were inseparable.

After she finished her thesis, she did not need the library as much, but she still went there. Just because of Will. Couple of months had passed and she had developed a huge crush on the man. He studied both English literature and philosophy. He was extremely smart and made the butterflies in her stomach flap their wings wildly every time he opened his mouth to speak. He looked at her admiringly whenever she talked about her studies enthusiastically. Her love for her studies and career choice was contagious and motivated him in his studies even more. They completed each other without realizing it. Late nights studying at each other's homes became a thing, too. Sometimes they would take breaks and just talk about everything from literature to movies to their favorite flowers or even their childhoods. It was not too long before they started hanging out more and more and introduced each other to their other friends. Everyone could see that they were meant to be, but them.

One summer weekend, their separate friend groups merged together and rented a cabin somewhere near a lake. They enjoyed the warm summer sun and the cool water of the lake. She was sitting outside late in the evening, with a book in her hands. He watched her from the other side of the patio, smiling. His best friend, Tom, noticed this. "You should ask her out", he told Will, "everyone else can see how much you both love each other but you." he continued. But Will was afraid of losing her. Having her in his life, even if she was just a friend, was all he wanted. She changed his life for the better, she made him feel good.

After everyone else went to sleep that night, he came out of the room he shared with Tom. He noticed a familiar silhouette on the sofa of the living room area, still reading. He chuckled, holding a book of his own in his hands. "Can I join you?" he asked, while sitting down at the sofa. She just smiled at him and nodded. Somehow she managed to gather up some courage, and decided to lay down, laying her head on his lap. His hand that was not holding the book found their way to her hair and he let his fingers run through her hair, soothingly. And that is how they managed to express wordlessly their feelings towards each other. Early the next morning, sitting on the pier while the sunrise painted the sky with its colors, they shared their first kiss.

[royalbluehues]

Healing

Title: Healing

Author: royalbluehues

Warnings:  PTSD. Nothing graphic, though. 

Pairings: William Schofield x Reader

Request:  Thanks! May I request a story where Schofield is another man after the war and reader wants her hubby back? He has nightmares, he never wants to go out, he barely talks to the reader. She understands that he will never be the same man after what he went through, but she wants at least a bit of her husband back. She doesn't know what to do to help him, but she will fight for their marriage.

Author’s Note: The story treks off the path of the request just a tad. I always end up making my stories fluffy without intending to. (Image found on Pinterest)

You had known it the minute he stepped off the train’s platform.

His shoulders were slumped and his eyes had a far away look to them. When he had brought you close to embrace you tightly, he had nuzzled his face within the crook of your neck and stayed there. 

His body was taught and stiff. 

Deep down within you, a small feeling poked at you, Something’s wrong. 

But you pushed that thought to the side, rather selfishly relishing the fact you finally, after nearly three years apart from him, you finally had your husband in your arms once more. 

And God willing he will stay there, you prayed silently. 

You raised one of your hands to tangle his locks around your fingers, squeezing your eyes tightly, “William,” you breathed out, savoring the way his name tasted on your tongue, then peppering whatever visible part of his face that was not tucked away into your neck.

Your heart was blooming with a mixture of gratitude, relief, happiness, and bereavement to the time that was pitilessly ripped from you and your daughters. 

He was filthy, despite his obvious attempts at a decorum of cleanliness. But his hair was matted, his uniform tattered, ripped, and stained with dark splotches in several places. 

You sided with your better judgment and not allow your mind to wander to what those splotches were. 

He finally lifted his head from his embrace, moving to lean back and look at you. His lips pulled upward into a lopsided smile. 

But you see it there: his large eyes betray his effort of solidity. Quickly as it comes, it goes. And before your mind could analyze it, he pulls you into a kiss. 

His lips feel soft, despite the skin being cracked. The calloused fingers grasping either side of your face are cold to the touch, his grip tight yet tender. You melt effortlessly into him, feeling the tension you’ve held in your shoulders, amounting since the moment he received his notice of deployment, give ease. 

When he releases you, you notice the tears that have swarmed in not only your eyes but in his as well. 

“I’ve missed you.” 

Once again, you’re flooded with a thousand emotions. Those three words have left you winded. They’re drowning you, pulling you so far beneath its current you’re left with the largest knot in your throat, threatening to release the moment you open your mouth to reply to him. 

It’s his words that have compacted so many meanings unspoken. 

Your tongue has turned leaden, your mouth is clenched shut, and the knot in your throat is only forming and growing every second that is passed. 

All you can do is stare up at him pathetically, eyes wide and brimming with tears that wait to fall.  

I love you. I’m so sorry. I want you. I feared for you. I feared for myself. I’ve missed you. I love you, I love you, I love you. 

Your heart feels full and empty all at once, and you tremble as his hands softly stroke away the wisps of hair that have fallen from your coiffed hair. 

When you open your mouth to breath, to finally repay the sentiment, your lungs betray you as they rack in a sob. 

He pulls you back into an embrace, only this time it’s you that is being hid away from the onlooking world, gasping for breath as your tears wet the lapels of his uniform. 

You feel him press his lips to the crown of your head.

“I know,” He tells you thickly.

---

It’s early morning as Will sits by the window of this home. He hadn’t been able to sleep, and rather than thrashing about in your shared bed, he figured it wise to detach himself lest he wake you for the third consecutive night that week. 

The heat emitting from the teacup clasped in his hands scalded his skin, but he chose to ignore it. The burning grounded him. Reminded him of where he was and where he wasn’t. 

He tiredly exhales a deep sigh, leaning his head against the crown molding of the window. He feels almost guilty for not staying in bed, remembering the constant visualizations of a warm bed- of your body warmly pressed into his side, the welcoming sound of a pair of bare feet that patter softly against the floor- all of which he painted to keep him sane in the trenches. 

But now that he had it after wanting it for so long, he always returned back to France, even when he tried to suppress it. 

It would be small things that would set off the memories: The sound of the leaves billowing from the wind, the clanging of a fork against a tin can, the smell of upturned soil, just to name a few. 

It was silly, he thought more often than not, of how different he was now. 

Though he was still William Schofeild, he really wasn’t. It was a notion he had to accept the first week he returned home to you and the girls. 

But he tried, by God, did he try. 

Whenever it would be set for judgement day to come, William Schofeild knew that he would be judged for what he did not do and what he did. But one thing that would serve him with certainty, was that he tried. 

He tries to uphold the station that he situated before he left. The role of a good father and a good husband. Not showing the cracks that were undoubtedly unfixable. Attempting to get back into the swing of things. 

Though he knew that his false bravado hardly went unnoticed by you. He would feel your suspecting gaze when he was teetering on reliving events as he stared off blankly into the space ahead of him, when he would leave his food untouched or his tea forgotten. He knew you had a hunch of what was happening when his daughters sat on his lap as they begged him to tell stories. 

“Girls,” you would scold them, emerging from the kitchen as you wiped your hands on your apron, “you know better than to be asking your father such things he wishes not to discuss.”

He would give a tight smile in response, “Nothing to worry about, Darling,” he’d say as he pressed a kiss on either girl’s head, “Perhaps I’ll do you one better, girls: I’ll read you a story with princesses and about great castles. Far better than hearing about daddy’s stories. I’ve no fairies or knights in mine.”

They would beam up at him, slipping off his lap as they ran back to their nursery to play with their dolls. 

He knew you knew when he would simply pick his book up once more, staring at the page he attempted to read for the nearly two hours- how you would hover by the entryway of the kitchen and observe him before disappearing to finish up the roast. 

He knew you knew because as he sat there, sitting and observing the outside world through the window, the heat prickling his skin, he could feel your presence in the room. 

He watched as a bird flew by, situating itself on the small tree only feet away from the gate.

You moved quietly, settling into the parlor chair by his.

“I’m sorry I woke you,” he tells you quietly as he turns to face you. You have a shawl over your shoulders, and sleep still evident in your eyes, and one hand atop your rounded belly.

You don’t meet his eyes, rather fixing your gaze on the same bird fluttering about. 

“You didn’t wake me.” You reply just as quietly, pulling the shawl tighter around you with your left hand, “The baby was kicking again.”

Will gives you a small smile, eyes glancing down at your bump,  “A rowdy one, he’ll be.”

He outstretches his arm to pass you his tea, and you accept, bringing it to your lips as you take a sip to fight away the chill lingering in the early morning. 

You hand it back to him, and the two of you so, passing the tea cup back and forth for the next minutes in comfortable silence. 

Finally, you speak. 

“William, I’m worried for you.”

It hangs in the air, and causes Will to shift uncomfortably in his chair as his right pointer finger plays with the handle of the tea cup. 

You fill the silence once more, turning to him now. “There’s something that’s wrong.”

His eyebrows furrow and his lips pull into a frown. Instead of replying he gulps down the remainder of the tea and sets it atop the window sill. 

“I know you do not wish to speak on it. And I apologize for bringing it up so early in the morning, but I’d rather it not be in front of the girls,” you spoke slowly, your right hand still grazing your stomach as a nervous habit. 

Will sighs deeply once more. This conversation was bound to be brought up eventually. 

He hangs his head, crossing his arms, trying to think of the correct words to say. 

“I can hardly imagine what you saw or what you went through, and I’m grateful for the ignorance that permits me to do so. But seeing you in these states,” you trail off, feeling the familiar knot take place within your throat, “it pains me because I do not know how to help you.”

You take in a shuddering breath, biting your tongue as you cast your gaze on the floor. “I wished so many times to take you away from there. To bring you back home where nothing could harm you. I would have given anything to ensure you were safe.”

William shakes his head, lifts it and turns to look at you. “You already help me. Just by being here, by my side.”

You wipe away at a tear that had escaped, knowing fully it was a pretty fib to make you feel better. “Don’t lie to me, William. I see it in your eyes.”

He gives you a small smile again that doesn’t reach his eyes, “Of course you do. I suppose that’s the price of marrying an observant woman.”

“And as an observant wife, it’s my duty to point upon when I think something’s wrong,” you murmur quickly, quietly. You're terrified to find him angered, so you shift your gaze to avoid his eyes. “I made a vow to you four years ago: to be by your side for better, for worse, for richer or for poorer,” you pause before finally mustering up the courage to face your husband, “and in sickness and in health.”

William’s gaze is on the teacup that he set aside, his large eyes saddened and reserved. He frowns, slowly rises from his chair, kneels before you and claps your hand in his. He moves to press his lips on the knuckle of your thumb, “I’m sorry I do not speak to you about it. About what happened.” He shakes his head, squeezing his eyes tightly, voice cracking. 

“I haven’t been fair to you,” He admits to you, “and I’m deeply sorry for that.”

You shake your head, a bit exasperated at how you jumbled your own words, in turn making him feel he was at fault, “No, my Darling. No, please do not take it that way. What I meant is that though it’s not my place to pry personal information you do not wish to tell, it is my place to point something that I see taking a toll on you.” You lift his hand so you can kiss them, “I-I just want you to feel better.” You sigh, “I’m rambling again. I’m afraid I can’t speak properly this morning.”

“I know what you are attempting to get across.” he mumbles to you, bowing his head to rest it upon your bump. “But I should make more of an effort to…” He furrows his brows, carefully selecting the correct word, “be open. But it’s difficult. How can I ask you to help me when I do not even know how to help myself?”

His words break your heart. 

You frown, letting go of his hand to stroke his head. “We will figure it out, and I will be there every step of the way with you, no matter what.”

“And if you grow tired of me?”

You stiffen. This time it’s his words that hang in the air. As he utters them, a cloud seems to block the early sunlight emitting through your window, casting a blueish-gray hue in your small home. 

“William never utter such mindless things again,” You scold him sharply. “I will never tire of you.” You allow your form to relax once more as your face softens, lightening your tone, “Is not carrying your child enough evidence?”

You hear him exhale a breathy chuckle and then feel him place a kiss on your womb. 

After a while, with you stroking his hair and him kneeling before you, you speak softly once more reassuring, “I love you. For the man that you were and for the man that you’ve become. I will be here for you. And though your healing may take time, it’s a step in the right direction. Never doubt that.”

The sun’s rays make an appearance once more, flooding the small room in a golden, promising light. 

.

.

.

Masterlist

[storiesforallfandoms]

not the same ~ will schofield;1917

word count: 1314

request?: no

description: upon returning from the war, will is not the same as he once was, and he worries how he’s feeling will affect his relationship with his wife

pairing: will schofield x female!reader

warnings: swearing, PTSD

masterlist

The girls were playing in the yard. She was washing the dishes and watching her daughters with a smile. Things had been hard since Will had left last. He promised he’d be home soon, but that was over a year ago. His letters had been few and far between as of late, and she was worried the next letter she would receive wouldn’t be from him.

As she finished the last of the dishes, there was a knock at the door. She dried her hands and went to answer. She gasped and covered her mouth in shock when she saw who was there.

“Hello love,” Will said, a small smile on his face. He was still wearing his military gear, and looked as though he had aged a decade since she had seen him last.

She didn’t know what to do. She was so happy she could barley fathom that he was actually stood there in front of her. Finally, she snapped t of her shock and jumped into Will’s arms. He chuckled and held her tightly.

“I’ve missed you, too, love,” he said. “Where are the girls?”

“They’re in the back,” (Y/N) responded, forcing herself to pull away from him. He followed her to the backyard, where his beautiful daughters were happily playing. “Lucy, Martha, look who’s here!”

The two girls turned and their faces lit up as they exclaimed, “Daddy!”

Will scooped the girls up in his arms and held them for him for a long time. He felt tears welling up in his eyes, and a feeling of joy and relief washed over him. He never thought he’d see his girls ever again, and he couldn’t be happier to finally be home.

~~~~~~

After his first real meal in years and a dearly needed shower, Will entered the bedroom in just a towel, his battle scars in full view. (Y/N) was already in bed, reading a book when he walked in. Her eyes widened as she looked him over. “Oh, honey.”

“Comes with the job,” Will responded with a shrug. “They healed long ago, I’m no longer in pain, love.”

(Y/N) out her book aside and knelt up on the edge of the bed. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him towards her. “As long as you’re no longer in pain, and you’re home with me. I’m never letting you go again.”

Will smiled and kissed her on the lips, savouring the feeling he had been dying to return to. He dropped his towel and (Y/N) giggled as he pushed her back onto the bed, climbing on top of her without breaking their kiss.

Some hours later, (Y/N) was sleeping peacefully next to her husband, however Will was having trouble with his sleep. He was stuck in an endless loop of the horrors he faced during the war: the people he killed, the men he lost, the numbers of times he almost lost his own life.

He was twitching and jerking in his sleep, so much so that he accidentally woke (Y/N). She stirred slowly and when she finally came to she noticed Will’s sleeping troubles.

“Will,” she said softly. “Love, wake up. Will, honey, you’re having a nightmare, wake up.”

His eyes opened and he shot up suddenly. He looked around the room frantically, as if he didn’t recognize where he was. There was a wild look in his eyes, one that almost scared (Y/N).

“Will?” she asked, her voice soft.

He looked at her. At first it was like his mind didn’t register who she was. His face was still twisted in fear, before it finally relaxed.

“(Y/N), did I wake you baby? I’m so sorry,” he sighed.

“It’s okay, love,” (Y/N) assured him. “Was it a nightmare?”

Will looked down at his hands, unable to meet her gaze. “Yeah...yeah nightmares. I’ll be alright.”

She looked at him, concerned, but chose to believe him. The two of them laid back in bed together. Will took (Y/N) into his arms, holding her close to him. Within seconds, she had drifted back off to sleep. Will, however, was struggling to sleep again. Every time he closed his eyes, he could see the horrors he faced yet again. Even laying in the dark, fully awake, the images from the war played so vividly in his mind he swore he could see them as if he were there again.

He laid awake for hours, just staring at the ceiling and listening to his wife’s heavy breathing.

~~~~~~

He swore it was a temporary thing, that the only reason he was having the nightmares was because he was just home and everything had only happened a short time ago. He started sleeping on the couch so he wouldn’t wake (Y/N), until she insisted he came back to bed with her.

(Y/N) noticed that the nightmares weren’t the only thing different about Will. He seemed distant. He would spend most of his days sitting, staring off into the distance. He was never present when (Y/N) spoke to him, and he was becoming especially emotional when it came to the girls. He would just watch them, tears forming in his eyes, as if just the sight of his daughters was bringing some sort of painful memory back.

One night, nearly a month after his return, Will woke with a start, letting out a scream as he did so. (Y/N) woke as well, sitting up and wrapping Will in her arms automatically. She couldn’t see him in the dark, but she could feel the dampness of his face, signifying that he was crying.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, his voice muffled by her neck.

“It’s okay, love,” she assured him. “Is it the nightmares again?”

“It’s not just about the nightmares,” Will sighed, pulling away to look at her. “I know I haven’t been the same since I’ve gotten home. I knew before I even came home that I wasn’t going to be the same. It just...it’s got me all fucked up. Everything that happened over there...it was a nightmare, all of it. A living fucking nightmare.”

(Y/N) took Will in her arms again, allowing him to cry on her shoulder. She held him tightly, soothingly rubbing his back and gently shushing him, the way she did when one of the girls hurt themselves.

Although she was trying her best to remain calm, it was hard to do so when the love of her life was suffering so. She wished she knew how to help him, how to make the awful memories go away. But all she could possibly do was sit there with him, to allow him to let the emotions out.

“This isn’t fair,” Will said suddenly through tears. “Not to you and not to the girls. The fact that you three have to see me like this, that you have to deal with it. It’s honestly not fair to you.”

“Listen to me, honey,” (Y/N) told him, pulling away and cupping his face in her hands. “I don’t care about having to help you through this, I really don’t. When we got married we said through sickness and in health, till death do us part. Last time I checked, neither one of us are dead, which means through sickness and in health still stands.”

A small smile made it’s way onto Will’s face. He rested his head against hers and she placed a gentle kiss on his nose.

“I’m here for you, no matter what love,” she told him. “Whatever it takes, I’ll be here.”

Will pressed his lips against hers, kissing him sweetly. “I’m so lucky to have an amazing woman like you as my wife.”

“You really are,” (Y/N) teased. “And I’m lucky to have an amazing man as my husband.”

[now-im-a-belieber]

from the ground up

A vague 1917 drabble! It's quite tragic and angsty. But... happy ending-ish? Inspired by that one scene, you'll know the one. 

══════════════════

Today you found out what the worst things are. 

Not only to lose something beloved. But to be stripped of such love that your hope for ever finding any again is crushed just a surely. 

To sit in darkness that is such, that a flame from a candle you find only reminds you of the light you have all too suddenly become devoid of.

It gave you no comfort. It only helps you see what's right in front of you. The tatters of the place you'd once strived to keep clean. The ashes of the structure that shielded you from all sorts of bad weather, covering blankets that would not keep you as warm as you needed to be any longer. But they were all you had. Dust covered blankets, a dull candle and overturned memories you'd never get the proper chance to sift through if you cared more about making it out of this place alive.

For a moment you considered staying as you were, wreckage among wreckage. To wither away with blown apart story book pages. To die here where she had. 

What if you'd heard the bombs coming? What if you had time to tuck her in and send her sleeping before everything ended? Would you still feel this way now? 

What if she had made it, and you had not? What would she do with no words and a walk she'd only just started practicing? Was it better this way? 

You could not stay here. You could die here, like she had. And for a moment you wanted too. For a moment you sat and stared past the light of the candle into the darkness and wondered if your bones ached as much as your soul, if you'd ever be able to feel much of anything again.

And the darkness grew with nightfall, as you argued with yourself over whether to move. You'd only gotten as far as what was left of the kitchen. You tested the lamp in the corner, out of instinct. Not of hope. Because you had none left you weren't disappointed to find the darkness covered you still. Was it possible you'd known your way around so well the halls well enough that that bricks blocking your way were only a minor inconvenience? Was it better to stay here, in a place you could no longer thrive in, but knew well enough to survive? 

You drifted back and forth, like you had when you silenced so many of your daughters night terrors. Now you lived through your own, and found no comfort in the way you tried to shake away the shock. You thought of no plan. You only thought of what had happened. And couldn't even think of what had resulted since the explosion. You just relieved it. Lived in it. Listened for her cries you knew would no longer come but would haunt you forever, however long that might be, now.

Then, past the ringing in your ears, lower hums and sharper shuffles could be heard. You recognized a foreign language beyond the blown apart walls of your home, and ducked away from the busted out windows in case whoever passed by wasn't nearly as afraid.

There was no telling the topic of the conversation they shared. You wondered if you'd even care to know the banter they traded in such a time as this. 

You knew they wouldn't save you. You didn't feel you needed saving. You didn't feel much of anything, all the while. Not even when the distant sound of gunfire and battle cries broke through the way you'd started to slip into unconsciousness amidst the dirt and dust. 

But when the shuffle of feet crept closer to the bits of home left hanging over your head, you found your heart was still intact. It started to thud and fill your chest, pushing your stomach into a nervous clench. You were still alive and your body was fighting to stay that way, it seemed. 

There was no time to clamor over the rubble, or hide behind the overturned dining table that could've easily been turned right side up and used, but never would be again. 

Instead you stood and stalled on the opposite side of the entry doorway a stranger had staggered to pause in. The silhouette of a soldier was neither a comfort or a curse. Not yet. His stance was frozen like yours, uncertain. He lifted both hands, and stayed where he was as you prepared for every possibility, for the worst you could think of. 

But nothing changed still. What was he waiting for? If only he'd drag you away, or shoot you down. If only this never ending nightmare would end. It was then you feared this was nothing more than a dream. That time had frozen inside the remains of your home, and the man who'd nearly entered, couldn't. 

His cautious step inside brought you back to reality. Almost relief. You had not floated into a stalled version of the worst moment in time. But it was still going on all around you. 

"I want nothing." He said. And somehow you understood. It was the only thing you'd been sure of, since the darkness swallowed everything whole, and spit you out to save for later. 

You watched the soldier move, slow, his broad shadow covered hands still raised to face you. He crept further, until he reached the window you'd been spying out of for what seemed like forever now. He did the same. And you saw the man's profile against the light of distant fire and fury. You saw the notch in his brow and his frown that grew as his eyes swept across the view from your window. He would not have known what was there before. The picket fences and pie shops to look for in the distance. The view you'd been used to, until today. 

And when the soldier turned away from searching his eyes found you. 

"Are you hurt?" He asked, turning slowly to evaluate you as you stood with no idea of the answer. A shake of your head was all you could manage, unsure otherwise. His sweeping gaze didn't seem to twist or change, so you must've appeared to be fine. 

But he looked a mess. Hair swept back with dirt. All the color of his face gone besides the dark circles under his eyes. And as you searched his frame, past his ripped and worn but otherwise fine looking uniform you saw the crimson covered cloth wrapped around his hand, and a jagged line of torn flesh traveling up his wrist, uncovered by the useless makeshift bandage.  

You moved from your place in the middle of the room, carefully maneuvering to clear the arm chair in the corner of fallen debris. You turned to find the soldier watching you, and waved him to sit. After one of those pauses that made you question time, he floated toward the chair and sat as you suggested. 

You'd been busy before this. And the apron that remained around your midsection was only good for one thing now. You untied the garment and ripped the fabric into reasonable bits. 

He did not ask what you were doing. Not even when you knelt at his side and started to remove the poor bandage he must've made himself along his way. Where was he going, you wondered? How had either of you ended up here? 

As you'd secured a couple pieces of cloth around his healing wound, you felt the soldiers eyes watching. You looked up to him, when you'd finished. And at the softness in his expression despite everything, you wondered again if this was all a dream. 

It’s only the sound of gun fire and battle cries growing nearer that snap you back to the realization that this is your life now. And the softness on the soldiers face before you had started to turn cold.

"I cannot stay here." He said, a bevy of emotion lied somewhere in his tone past the way he seemed tense and hardened by whatever it was he spoke of. Wherever he was going, or had already been. 

"Neither can I." You say. You can die here. You'd started too. "But I do not know how to leave." 

This was all you had left of your life. Of her life. Her first cries came from here. Her last, too. You could not take her with you. And you couldn't understand where to turn without her, now. 

After another pause you wished meant time had stopped, it only seemed to tick by like one final warning. 

"Do you trust me?" The soldier asked. 

You did not know. But past the candle light, the darkness was broken up by a pair of eyes glinting into yours. And the working hand of a soldier extended to meet yours. 

He pulled you away from the candle light. You clutched onto him through the doorway, past the darkness. And as the pair of you crept into the tattered city, ducking behind rubble and dashing toward freedom, the unknown past the light of all the fire and fury wasn't nearly as dark as it had seemed to hang in the only home you'd known. All that was left of it was shadows. And since you'd gone, you didn't worry about leaving her there, because that wasn't where she was anymore. So you couldn't stay. 

And maybe.... maybe there was hope to be considered; from the look in the eyes of the soldier who stayed by your side until sunrise and admitted then, he was just as scared as you.

[valterras]

Thinking about Will Schofield.