#simcoe x reader

[nataril-00]

been thinking about Simcoe x enemy!reader and it's oouyghhdhh, how they would act towards one another due to grudges

Simcoe watches readers every move with no subtlety. He'd get some of his rangers to lurk behind you, and when you'd confront him about it?

"To make sure you're not up to something."

You obviously get pissed off. what nerve does this man have? it's not like you're aiding the Patriots with intelligence.

Simcoe would just barge into your house at times, checking every room, ignoring your flaming self as he continued to "check" for anything suspicious. and when he turns to you as you ask him one more time why he was here?

"I have reasons to suspect you."

But it's not suspecting isn't it? there was a lingering feeling in your mind telling you it wasn't, but you brushed it off.

(very bad at writing 4 some reason forgive me D:)

[knowltonsrangers]

Hi, I hope requests are still open, so how about an idea with Simcoe and modern!reader who watched the series and ends up there somehow?

avidly

turn!Simcoe x reader

[a/n: thanks for requesting! ❤️ ]

Sat numbly in the wooden chair, the ropes only sawed tighter into agitated skin the more you struggled. It was impossible to even see the damage done because if you dared to look over your shoulder, all you were met with was the damp darkness of the empty cabin.

You didn't even know the time, let alone who, if anyone- was inside the room with you. It all occurred faster than you could keep up with, first wading through flooded woods, disoriented to the events that led you here. It wasn't until you reached the foot of a hill that two men jumped out from their hiding spots, wielding weapons that only made your heart leap to your throat.

"They're awake?" A voice drawls just outside, and you can tell a hand is on the door, because the sliver of daylight that you had just shifted, as if someone was about to open it.

"Yes, sir." Someone replies, clearing their throat. "Last I checked, at least."

You screw your eyes shut, fiercely struggling against the ropes, praying that whoever entered through that door was nicer than the first two men.

"Good,"

The door rattles, and all at once it flies open, your gaze flitting to the newcomer. His silhouette fills most of the doorframe, heels clicking against the wood as one hand holds the door at bay. Once you are faced with blinding light, and unable to adjust, your eyes tear away, only finding comfort when the cabin is enveloped in darkness once more.

"I do hope my men were courteous to you."

His voice almost sounds cynical, and somehow you can feel his stare without seeing his eyes. Part of you screams to not reply, but the sarcasm bubbling in your mouth beats any sensibility you had accrued.

"I'm having a blast, thanks." Something akin to a glove being peeled off startles you, and it's all at once you realize that he is the one in control here. Immediately, a hand darts past your head and settles on the back of the chair, tilting you so far back, that the chair only rested on two legs.

"My, my, no need to be such a smart ass." He hums, and you squeak, feeling the sensation he is right in your face, and you have no idea how close he really is. Abruptly, you drop back to the floor, eliciting another scream from you, when a tarp is ripped off one of the windows, flooding the room with natural light.

Blinking rapidly, you shake the feeling of confusion from your brain, then take a chance to look up at the man who was presently holding you hostage.

Before you could even take a bated breath, a cold hand grabs your chin, yanking it up so you can stare directly into the eyes of your capturer.

"You have about three seconds to start explaining," He snarls, and your eyes bounce briefly to the flintlock cradled to his waist, his unoccupied hand resting heavily on the hammer.

You stutter, visibly shaken at what you were face-to-face with, eyes wide with surprise and doubt.

"John?" You're treading on dangerous waters, chin beginning to ache with just how much his grip tightens. Swallowing thickly when some recognition crosses his features, you press fowards.

"John Graves Simcoe?" It comes out embarrassingly slow, and it's not for dramatic effect. You were presently in disbelief, unable to process what was occurring right in front of your nose.

"Well," He starts, tilting your head this way and that.

"It never is a good thing when someone knows my name."

[megs-mostly-past-random-fandoms]

The Distraction

Based on this request: Hi! Could I please request a TURN fic where the reader is part of the Culper Ring and is given the job of “distracting” Simcoe, much to her dismay. Eventually though, she ends up falling for him and him for her. Until it comes out that she is a spy and then Simcoe has to decide what to do with her? Thank you!

Here you are, lovely! *Familiar Characters are NEVER mine!*

Fandom: TURN: Washington's Spies

Warnings: Angst, a little fluff??, a bit long. I may have gotten carried away.

Pairings/Characters: John Graves Simcoe x fem!reader, The Culper Ring

You stared between your two best friends and Anna Strong. "You must be joking," you stated. Anna looked ashamed while Caleb glared at Ben. Ben just kept his gaze on you. "Benjamin Tallmadge, you had better be joking!" you yelled, prompting Caleb to reach over and place a hand over your mouth. "I'm sorry, Y/N. Really I am. But Simcoe is getting too close. It won't be long before he figures out who Culper really is. He knows Anna doesn't have any real feelings for him. That leaves you to distract him. Throw him off course until we can make a plan."

The three of them looked at you with such hope that you groaned and agreed. You hated it though. You didn't even know who Culper was. "I hate you all," you muttered as they pulled you into a group hug. "If anything goes wrong at all, I will personally hunt you all down." They let you go, and scurried off. Now you had one job. Distract John Graves Simcoe, Lieutenant Colonel of the Queen's Rangers.

Finding the man was simple enough. Getting him to notice you was a little bit more difficult. You tried the more mundane ways such as "accidentally" losing your handkerchief, or nearly running into the man. Things like that. But nothing seemed to work. In the end, you knew there was one thing that was absolutely guaranteed to make him notice you. Have him be your valiant knight in shining armor.

"You sure about this, Y/N/N?" Caleb asked after you explained the plan to him. It had been weeks with no luck so you'd had Anna hang her petticoats to get Caleb's attention for you. "It's the only shot I have left, Caleb." He nodded with a sigh before kissing your forehead. "Alright then, off you go. I'll follow." Without any warning, you let out a shrill scream and took off running back to the town, Caleb hot on your heels.

You ran and screamed until you came upon Simcoe. "Help! Please!" You darted behind Simcoe just as Caleb appeared, rifle raised as if to shoot you. He pretended to freeze when he saw Simcoe before turning and running back toward his boat.

"After him," Simcoe ordered. He nearly ran as well, but you made sure you had a gently hold on his coat. Feeling this, Simcoe turned around, his blue eyes locking with your (e/c) ones. "Are you alright, Miss?" You felt yourself beginning to shake being so close to the man your friends had warned you was extremely dangerous. "I-I think so. He just appeared out of nowhere. Gave me such a fright."

"What were you doing alone in the woods?" You pretended to glance down at your feet in embarrassment. "I was gathering berries for my family. Before the winter cold comes. He came upon me so quickly." Simcoe smiled gently down at you as you finally let go of his coat. "Shall I escort you back to your home? I would not want anything unfortunate to befall you." You did your best to smile at him. You couldn't let him see how uncomfortable the situation made you. "I think that might be best. I clearly have a way of finding trouble, even when I'm not looking for it." He chuckled softly and offered you his arm.

Simcoe walked you home, promising to call again the next evening to check on you. Your father thanked him, cutting you off from doing so, but your eyes remained on Simcoe and his were on you. As he bid you goodnight, you knew you had accomplished your mission. You had his attention. Now all you had to do was keep it long enough for your friends to do what they needed.

*time skip*

After spending yet another afternoon with Simcoe(much to your father's delight), you bid him good evening and closed the door behind him. Then, you watched from the window as he walked back toward White Hall. He glanced back and you waved with a smile. The two of you had grown so close over the last few weeks. You couldn't believe you'd been so hesitant to meet him at first. John Simcoe was so much more than Anna had told you.

Yes, he was intense in everything he did. He fought for king and country with a zeal that was almost frightening. But he was so much more than that. Beneath the veneer of a soldier and monster, beat the heart of a lover. Even spending only chaperoned time with him you could tell that. He loved like he fought. With everything he had in him. After that first night when you grabbed his attention, he had begun showing you that he was still a man with desires and passions despite the war. He showed you that he was capable of a love you'd only every read about. And, to your shock, you found yourself wishing you could show him that type of love in return.

Oh, you loved John Graves Simcoe. That much was certain now, though you had no idea when it had happened. And you knew he felt something for you as well. But it was also a fact that once the man learned how it all started, he would despise you. You never thought he would find out so soon.

After a few weeks of spending time together, you found yourself sitting as Simcoe paced in front of you, his eyes wild with fury and fire that you had never seen before. In his hand, he held the message from Caleb that had been waiting for you. It felt as though the walls were closing in on you. The air in the room was thick and suffocating while the silence was deafening. You waited from him to say something.

"Joh-" you began, but he held up a hand to stop you. "Don't speak. I will not hear another of your lies." Your mouth snapped closed. He stopped pacing and turned his sharp gaze to you. "How long?" You furrowed your brows and he yelled, "HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN A SPY?!" You jumped in your seat as tears began to form in your eyes. "I-I'm not a spy, Joh-Colonel. I swear. I was only meant to meet you, get to know you..."

"Distract me?" Knowing you were caught, you nodded. "I swear, I never spied. I know nothing about your movements nor Washington's. I was only meant to keep you busy for a couple weeks. Instead I found myself enjoying your company more than anyone else. That wasn't part of any plan. Developing feelings for you was never part of the plan. I was never meant to fall in love with you, John."

At that, Simcoe froze, his eyes still wide, but this time in surprise. For a moment, neither of you spoke. You once again felt like you couldn't breathe as you waited for him to reply. Anything besides the dead-silent stare he was giving you now.

"You're lying. You're still trying to distract me. To keep me off my guard." You shook your head. This time, the tears fell without permission. "I'm not lying, John. There is a lot I will lie about to protect the people I care about, but not this. I've admitted that our meeting wasn't by chance. I've admitted that I was used as a way to distract you from your hunt for Culper and before you ask, no, I don't know who he is. I have admitted to aiding the enemy, a hang-able offense. Why would I lie about this? I have nothing to gain by lying about my feelings for you. Whether you believe me or not is your choice, but I do love you."

You turned your face away from him as your tears began turning to sobs. It was all over. You had been caught and the man you loved didn't believe you loved him. The man you loved would be the one to tighten the noose around your neck.

John's POV

The fury began fleeing from him when he realized you were sobbing. Whether it was because you were scared for your life or because you truly loved him, he didn't know. But he hated hearing the shaky breaths coming from you knowing he was the cause of your distress. As angry as he was(and rightfully so), he was also a man in love who's heart had been shattered at the thought of you simply using him.

Could he send you to the noose for your crimes? They were crimes. Even though you supposedly hadn't spied on him yourself, your actions had allowed others to do so. But could he really send you to your death knowing that his heart belonged to you and you would take it with you when you were gone? Why did the thought hurt so much?

When Anna Strong had rejected him in favor of Hewlett, John was hurt of course. But nothing like this. This felt like he was shattering into a million tiny pieces. Was this what love truly was? Giving one person the power to feed or kill your joy with only a single word or action?

A particularly loud sob brought John out of his thoughts. You had produced a handkerchief and were trying to dry your eyes. With an almost unheard sigh, John pulled out his own handkerchief. He used his free hand to cup your chin and lift your face up to him. You blinked in surprise, but said nothing at first as John dried your tears, his eyes never leaving yours.

"What will you do, John?" you finally managed to whisper out after a few silent moments. "I-For once I am at a loss," he confessed, "You betrayed our king, yet you were not the ringleader. You know nothing of anyone's comings and goings, but you lied to me. You lied to an officer of the Crown and the man you claim to love. Yet, I don't know what to do."

It was your turn to sigh as one of your hands came up to gently grab his wrist. "I am sorry to have put you in such a position. I-I will do what I must. Either way, I do not suppose we will see each other again." You rose to leave, but John reached out to grip your hand. "What do you mean?"

"I must either run or turn myself in. That is the only way I will not be torturing you with this." John stood abruptly. Hearing that he may never see you again made his heart racing and all the walls guarding it to crumble. "No. I cannot accept that. No one but the two of us know, is that correct?" You nodded. John thought about your contact, but knew they couldn't say anything without implicating themselves as well.

"You cannot go. I couldn't bear it. The very thought would bring me to my knees if you were not here to ground me. Please," he declared, his voice dropping to a whisper," Please, do not leave. Stay. Stay by my side. I don't care about the lies. As long as your confession of love was not one of them."

You stared him, flustered, for a brief moment. Then, you took a small step closer and met his gaze. There was a fierceness there that made it clear you were telling the truth when you whispered into the quiet room, "It wasn't a lie. I love you, John Simcoe." In an instant, John's arms wrapped around you and he held you close. "Kiss me?" you asked. John smiled as he obliged his lady's request.

(a/n: I hope you like it! And thank you all so much for 267 followers! Tag lists for everything are open, if anyone is interested!)

[louisianaspell]

All of my Turn: Washington’s Spies content

Among The Pines

Summary: Reader mysteriously wakes up in the 18th century and tries to use her skills & knowledge to navigate and survive the Revolution and hopefully beyond. [ON HIATUS/BEING REWRITTEN]

A Girl Is No One

Summary: John Graves Simcoe becomes interested in a seemingly normal girl in Townsend’s tavern, he sets out to learn more about her before deciding on his next move [ON HIATUS]

Watch The Sky

Summary: When everyone around Edmund is trying to push him into finding his soulmate, Edmund has instead decided to let the universe decide when he is ready to meet her. [DISCONTINUED]

The Ghosts That We Knew

Summary: Separate imagines/drabbles of how the different men of Turn would react to the death of the reader

Lovers In The Morning Light

Summary: Separate imagines/drabbles of waking up next to the Turn characters

Too Late To Ever Feel The Same [Part Two: Open Hands]

Summary: Not all endings are happily ever after

Part Two: Reader deals with Alex letting go. A prequel to Too Late

Lady In Waiting

Summary: A young Alexander meets a mysterious woman at a terrible time in his life and becomes a lifelong friend [DISCONTINUED]

She Paints Me Blue

Summary: Separate imagines/drabbles of the Turn Squad with an artist!Reader

Lingers In My Mind

Summary: Reader and vamp!Caleb go through a break up and the reader does the unthinkable to break their bond

Splendid Mess

Summary: Reader goes against her family wish to remain neutral by supporting America’s cause for independence and falling for Ensign Baker

Turn Squad In Bed

Turn Squad In Bed Tag (may not work on mobile)

Turn Squad Fluffy Headcanons (may not work on mobile)

A-Z Fluffy Headcanons w/ Ben

Men of Turn as Boyfriends/Love Interests

Robert Rogers as a Love Interest

Turn Squad Domestic Headcanons

Confessing Your Feelings to the Men of Turn

Confessing Your Feelings to Simcoe

[knowltonsrangers]

subjective

John Graves Simcoe x reader [angst]

Forgetting himself, only if momentarily, the brunette makes a snap judgement that would carelessly turn the situation into something much more…tedious, but that would befall to future him, who would have to resolve it.

His priorities were horrifically askew, the running list in his mind absolutely disheveled as his gloved hand comes to the iron doorknob, growing impatient with each passing moment.

Idly, he wonders how angry you’d be if he simply left. You were taking too long, and he’d watch across the street at how your face contorts, cheeks puffing and arms across your chest, a pout rising on your lips—

He’s pulled from his thoughts as the door unlocks, the knob turning in his grasp as someone opens the door.

What a shame, he hadn’t thought of what he was going to say when you opened the door.

“John?”

You ask, as if his mere presence wasn’t enough to make you believe it true. John takes your entire attention, with his intimidating demeanor and tall figure.

Last time, he recalls you being a bit more excited about his unprecedented visit.

“Sounds as if you were expecting someone else. Do you make everyone wait so long?”

He can’t help it, peering down at you so deliberately that it makes you shrink back inside just a step.

“I wasn’t expecting anyone, but if I was, it would most certainly not be you.”

Oh, how you wound him, and though he wishes it was a simple exchange of dry humor, he knows you’re upset with him. Very, last he recalls.

“May I come inside?”

“You may not.”

“y/n, could you not be a child, for just a moment?”

“Sorry, you absolutely may not come inside.”

You go to close the door over, and just when you’ve thought it was all over, a black boot finds its way in between the frame and the door, then a gloved hand slams impatiently against the wood.

“Oh, go away John! You know I don’t have the time for your nonsense.”

Immediately giving up, because you know he’d throw that door open if you offered any sign of opposite pressure in return. Pulling away, you begin down the hall as he enters, carefully removing his leather gloves, tossing them to the table nearby.

“I should be saying the same of you.”

John gravels, taking note of your slumped posture and annoyed expression. You now stand at the end of the entryway, and he with his back to the door.

“What did you come here for? I know it’s not to apologize.”

“You know that?”

Your hands furl into fists, then you wince as your nails dig into your palms.

“I don’t. But I wouldn’t accept it, if that’s what you were going to do.”

“Still such a child. You would know if I meant what I did. It was a mistake, and I carelessly thought you wouldn’t have minded.”

“You keep calling me a child,”

Your gaze narrows, eye twitching slightly.

“So what man would want to put up with such a terrible thing? Did you come here just to be an asshole, or?”

John releases a sigh he was holding, taking a step forward that you match with a step backwards.

“I don’t remember inviting you inside, so that’s as far as you go.”

You point to an invisible line, and Simcoe recoils somewhat.

“Ah. Keeping enough distance between yourself and the enemy, hm?”

“I never said you were the enemy. I don’t even know what agenda you have, you still haven’t mentioned the purpose of your visit.”

“I did come to apologize.”

The brunette hums, toying with the idea of crossing the invisible line just to piss you off.

“So do it, and leave,”

“I am sorry, y/n, that I hurt your feelings. I do hope you can forgive me.”

On paper, those words probably would have meant a lot to you, coming from John. Verbally, however, his words hold that same sarcasm and venom that you just can’t seem to understand.

“Are you finished?”

“I would say so.”

“Then you know where the door is.”

You spin, back to him, waiting to hear the door open, when all at once, hands grab your shoulders and turn you around without any fight.

“I don’t appreciate your attempt to be such a hardass, y/n.”

“You just had to include ‘attempt’, didn’t you?”

You sneer up at him, hands reaching to his chest to push him away. He doesn’t go very far.

“I said I was sorry, what more could you possibly want?”

“For you to mean it.”

Your hands drop, glowering at him with as much ferocity that you could muster.

“Figure it out, John, before I do.”

Normally, that would not be an end to a conversation, lest with him, but he watches you turn and ascend the stairs, scowl dropping from your pretty face as an upset expression takes hold.

He shakes the idea that he saw a tear roll down your cheek. You would never let him see you cry…would you?

Stubborn as he was, the man still had a heart, even though many wish to have it on a spike rather than inside his chest.

Tapping his boot once, he about-faces, grabbing his gloves from the entry table, silently putting them back on as he opens the door.

“Goodbye, y/n.”

John muses, giving the stairs one last look before closing the door over behind him, never awaiting your reply.

[knowltonsrangers]

Hi there!! :> if your requests are open could you perhaps do a Turn!John Graves Simcoe x chubby female reader one-shot? Just like comforting her n stuff? i haven't found anything like this so if you could do it I'd be forever grateful 💕

hardly

simcoe x reader

[a/n: hi there!! sure, absolutely! so sorry for the delay 💕]

Nobody seems to get it. There’s always that lingering thought that clings to the back of your mind, something that comes in goes in fleeting passes every time a mirror catches your attention. You hate the way it eats you up, yet, you never seem to move away from the reality that the longer you stare, nothing seems to change.

Though, there is nothing that needs to change. You know that, everyone knows that—yet, your hand pulls at your shirt once more, disliking the way it looks, the way it feels against your skin.

You sigh, fingers thrumming along the hem of the shirt, finally giving in to the feeling and going to pull the clothing over your head.

Then, out of nowhere, there’s a hand, one that grasps the shirt tight, not allowing you to move any which way in the hold it has you in.

“That’s the third time you’ve changed, must you?”

There’s annoyance in there, rightfully so, you were supposed to leave a half hour ago, yet, there was never any attempt by you, at least, to leave the bedroom.

“I don’t like the way it looks.”

“I do.”

“I…thank you, but I’m still going to change—“

His hand flexes, slowly sprawling open as it covers a good portion of your stomach. John would never understand it, try as he might, though, his inadvertent way of trying to comfort you and ease your rampaging thoughts.

“Keep it on,“

He’s bent over, hovering in your ear now, hand still on your torso as you try to worm away from his hold. Who’s he to say what you wish to wear, and what you don’t—

“You seem to think that was a request. You’d be sorely mistaken, y/n, if you were to believe such a thing.”

He would never understand it, though, his insistence meant that he did care, steadfast remarks or not.

“Oh, so easy for you to say.”

John allows you to break from his hold, slipping away and moving from the mirror to the doorway, eager to just get on with the night.

“And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Never mind, forget I said anything.”

Your eyes can’t met his, suddenly.

“May we?”

“Hm.”

His eyes narrow, and you can practically see the gears turning over in his mind. He’s trying to figure out what your end-goal is for this conversation.

“So harsh on yourself, for something that doesn’t need criticism.”

John brushes past you, and you stand dumbfounded in your spot due of his kind words.

He ran because he couldn’t believe he said it, you didn’t because you couldn’t believe he said it.

Sniffling, a small smile worms its way to your face, the back of your hand brushing your rosy cheeks as you spin to chase after the brunette.

[a/n: you are beautiful anon, mwah. xo.]

[knowltonsrangers]

HII! I’d love to request something from TURN where the reader is peggy’s sister and in a relationship with Simcoe and one day an ex lover of the reader comes back for her? :) tysm for reading, i have such a hard time finding jealous/possessive simcoe fics 😂

envy

TURN!Simcoe x F!reader

[a/n: hello love! I gave this my best shot! I don’t get the opportunity to write for Simcoe often, and I hope I got this right! thanks for requesting! ♥️]

Maybe you weren’t cut out for just some ‘alone time’. It seemed wherever you went, something, someone, tended to follow, when all you wanted was to just have a drink, and breathe a little less stuffy air.

So when you sat at the bar, swirling your drink around, it honestly did not surprise you too much to hear that nasty, crude voice behind you. It was drunken, surely, crass and full of vulgar language.

“Welllll, if it ain’t my old ray o’ sunshine.”

They warble, mug of ale still in hand as they drop themselves down next to you. Annoyed, you hold in your huff of disgust as you turn to greet the new guest to your left.

“Hello, Jessie.”

You seethed out from behind grinding teeth.

“Got nothing to say ‘sides hello? We got a lotta history together, you didn’t jus’ forget all that, did ya?”

They’re completely trashed, you can smell it on their lips. Mustering an unrefined smile, you set your drink down and let them have their fun.

“Yes, I do recall all the times you came home drunk, just like this.”

You don’t hear the sound of the tavern door swinging open, nor the heavy footfalls that follow. Here you are, catering to the bastard, ready to mouth off when they place a hand on your face, when a set of gloved hands reach over you and shove their hands off of your skin.

“Rather inappropriate to touch a lady like that, especially one who wants nothing to do with your sorry ass,”

You gasp in surprise as Jessie stands to meet Simcoe, beer left on the bar as they raise a hand to swing.

“Jus’ who the hell—“

“y/n, I suggest you turn away.”

Pushing your drink back across the bar, you stand shakily, spinning to face the opposite wall as you hear the unclasping of gloves.

Then, the resounding crack of bones breaking in one’s face. A thud follows, and then Simcoe’s voice.

“Alright, y/n. Let us be on our way.”

His arm finds yours easily, tossing coins on the bar as he walks you to the tavern exit. It’s hard to meet his eyes regularly, even more so now as all you can do is stare at the ground.

“I hope I intervened at the right time. They better of not touched you elsewhere.”

His voice is soothing, but full of anger, the way his tone tapers and his hold on your arm tightens.

“No, we were just talking, before.”

“Why would you entertain such a thing?”

You turn away, brushing hair behind your ear.

“Optimistic that they had changed? y/n, love, people like that never do. They never deserved you in the first place.”

You swallow thickly, nodding in agreement.

“Thank you, John. For that. In there.”

“Of course.”

There’s a lull of silence as the two of you continue on.

“And besides.”

John suddenly decides to add, your head hikes upwards to meet his gaze.

“You’re mine, y/n. No one else’s.”

Your heartbeat was so loud, you were afraid he was going to hear it.

“I do not share.”

[a/n: pffff im so sorry if ur name is Jessie.. I wanted something gender-neutral, and more time-period like. I hope this was ok!!]

[megs-mostly-past-random-fandoms]

Beastly

Based on this request:  Hmmm oh! How about a Simcoe fic? Reader is staying with at White Hall when Mary shoots off his ear. Reader helps him until the doctor gets there and she tells him that she doesn’t see him as the monster everyone else does. (Or maybe a Beauty and the Beast AU??)

Here you are, lovelies! *Familiar Characters are NEVER mine!*

Fandom: TURN: Washington’s Spies

Warnings: A little angst, mentions of injury and blood, Simcoe himself is a warning, A little fluff?? 

Pairings/Characters: John Graves Simcoe x fem!reader

Something drew you to Captain John Graves Simcoe. Maybe it was because he was so intense. Or perhaps it was because he was dangerous. Or maybe you were just attracted to him. You didn't know, but you knew that you didn't see him the way everyone else saw him, especially not your guardian or his son. Your guardian was somewhat afraid of him, especially when he took Major Hewlett's place in your home. And Abraham? Abraham hated him.

         You were different. The man was a monster, to be sure; an absolute beast. But you thought that maybe it was because no one had ever shown him what love was or because no one had really given him a chance to earn their love simply because he was a British soldier or because he had something of a temper. You didn't know why, but part of you was determined to change that.

         So, whenever you saw him, you gave him a smile or a warm greeting. You brought him his meals and left without a word. You made sure his needs such as food, clean clothing, and clean linens were met. Sure, you could have asked Aberdeen, but you preferred to do it yourself. You didn't like having her serve you or anyone else. However, your attempts to get close the Captain were for naught. At least until the night Robert Rogers snuck onto your guardian's property.

         You were restless that night, up late reading and listening to the sounds around the house. You heard a bath being prepared in the room next to yours. You  heard the sounds of soldiers  guarding the house outside. And occasionally, you heard Simcoe's steps echoing throughout the house. But then, you heard a two sounds you never wanted to hear. A gunshot and a deep scream.

         For a moment, you couldn't move. What was happening? But then, you were out of bed, pulling on your housecoat. Voices drifted to you, one angry and one frightened, prompting you to throw open the door. You wanted to scream at the sight before you. Simcoe was standing in Mary's doorway, a hand pressed to his now bloody ear, glaring at her.

         "Captain!" He turned to you and you swore his eyes softened a bit. Wasting no time, you took his hand and pulled him away from Mary's door and downstairs into the study. "Sit," you ordered, earning a raised brow from him. You sighed. "Please?" His blue eyes never left yours as he did as you asked. Once he was seated, you rushed toward the front door. You pulled it open and ordered one of the men to rush into town to wake the doctor.

         Then, you were back at Simcoe's side. You gently pushed his hand away from his wound. Grabbing your own handkerchief, you pressed your hands to his ear. "What happened?" you asked after a moment. Simcoe's expression screwed up into one of pure rage. That was the look that had everyone so afraid of him. But not you. You knew the rage wasn't directed at you. "Rogers," he growled. You rolled your eyes. "Perhaps you should give up on vendetta against the man. He is clearly more dangerous than any of us thought."

         Simcoe's hand shot out to grab your wrist. You met his gaze and a shudder ran down your spine. "As am I so perhaps you shouldn't stick your nose into matters that down concern you." You let out a huff, ripping your hand from his grip. "Well forgive me for caring enough to keep you safe!" You threw your handkerchief at him and turned to leave only for him to grab your hand again.

         You stopped so you wouldn't hurt either yourself or him. You glanced at him over your shoulder. "Why do you care?" he asked. Once again, you found yourself lost in his eyes for a moment. But your brows furrowed when it registered what he asked. "What do you mean? Is it not human decency to care for others?"

         Simcoe looked like he didn't know how to respond to that. You turned back around to face him fully again. Without looking away from him, you stepped closer. You moved like someone who didn't want to frighten away a baby deer. Your fingers brushed against his as you took the cloth from him to take over staunching his wound again.

         "You aren't afraid of me," he said matter-of-factly. You gave him a small smile. "Of course not. I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but you aren't frightening. At least not to me." His brows furrowed before he hissed a bit. "Sorry," you said when you realized you'd finally found the sensitive spot on his ear. "Everyone else is." You sighed.

*Simcoe's POV*

         You were so close. So very close and yet, not close enough. John was on edge as he waited for you to reply to his last comment. "Everyone else in this town is afraid of anything and anyone that is…different from them. I don't see you the way they do," you finally said after a few moments, "You aren't a beast, John."

         John fought back a shiver at your use of his given name. "You don't think so?" You shook your head slightly. "I do not. I think you've never had anyone to care for you. To love you for who you are. That can make anyone see the world the way you do. It does not excuse your actions, but I can more easily forgive them."

         When your gaze flickered to John's again, he swore you were all that was pure and good in the world. He gingerly reached out to let his fingers brush against the ones on your free hand. He was almost suffocating in the intimacy of the moment. He wasn't used to anyone being so gentle or soft with him. He didn't know how to react to you. That bothered him, but he realized that you were right. He'd never had anyone to show him how to love or care for others. Maybe what he was feeling right now was exactly right.

         Before John could respond, the front door flew open and the doctor came rushing into the room. You stepped away in order to avoid any gossip surrounding the two of you. John frowned. He didn't want you to step away from him. Quite the opposite. He turned his glare on the doctor, who shrank away a little bit.

         "Thank you, Miss Y/L/N. I will take it from here." You nodded and moved to leave. "She stays," John nearly barked at the doctor, making you freeze. John looked back to you and continued, "If you are willing, that is." You smiled at him and John was grateful he was sitting. Your smile made him weak in the knees. (Not that he'd admit that out loud.) "As long as you need me," you stated softly so that only he could hear. That was the beginning of something unexpected and beautiful.

(a/n: I really hope you like it!)