#someone if you have time check under the layers at the head wound | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bimrwolf · 1 year

Text

Healing Hands by the Fire

geralt of rivia x afab!reader words: 3,684 warnings: smut !! 18+ (minors dni) ; squint and you may see a casual plot summary: Geralt visits Reader, a healer, with severe injuries. a/n: very out of my comfort zone. however, i promised my friend to write this as her christmas present because writing fanfics are my love language. good thing i know basic things about the witcher heheehe.

How did she always end up here? Months without a word or seeing him. She had accepted the peace. Only occasionally did she perk up when there was a knock on her door, secretly hoping it was him. But only one could be so lucky. Instead, it was travelers from all over the Continent who heard word of her abilities.

She couldn’t complain. Healing others in exchange for seeds, food, and sometimes money. Not that it was required for her service but she couldn’t complain about the gratuity.

In fact, she enjoyed helping others. However, it was nearing winter and there were less travelers. They were most likely home to prepare for the violent winter storms that damned the Continent.

It was one of the first snow falls of the season. She had finished feeding the chickens and her horse Atticus. That was always her nighttime routine. Feed the animals, make some tea, study until all the tea is drunk, and finally get ready for bed.

Some might think the routine would get tiring, but there was never any guarantee. It was the one consistent thing in her life at the moment. She was content.

However, some nights, she heard the enchanted chimes outside that let her know someone was approaching. But before she made it to the door, it swung open, snow flurries drifted inside. The cold was sharp and pricked her nose, making her sniffle.

In most cases she would be alarmed. There was no telling what creatures or people were harmless and which ones weren’t. She clutched the nearest thing to her— a broom that always gave her splinters when she used it.

His snow white hair peeked from under his hood and she recognized the distinct low grumble that could be mistaken as a quake. He slowly closed the door, ensuring it was locked this time. “You startled me.” She said, releasing her grip from the broom, checking her hand for any loose wood.

“You should keep the door locked. What if I was a dangerous man breaking in?” She played it off as a joke, not seeing the concerned look on his face.

“Some might say you are dangerous.” She smirked. She never expected him to react to her jokes, but she could feel the warmth blanket around her when his shoulders relaxed. “Are you going to stand there all night?”

He limped further into the cabin. She could see the snow melting on his cloak, dripping on her floor. “You made a mess,” she huffed.

His head lifted and cat-like eyes met hers. It was known his abilities and job forced him to lack showing how he felt. But, she noticed right away how his eyes drooped that he was in pain.

She ran towards him, immediately untying his cloak so that it dropped to the floor. She gasped at the large claw marks scratched into his chest. He could withstand most injuries but the cuts had broken past the many layers of skin.

“Fuck, Geralt. What happened?” Her finger ghosted over the wound on his shoulder. Almost immediately he grabbed her wrist. But she didn’t pull away.

“I’m starving.” He took a moment to look her up and down before letting go of her wrist and walking past her.

Unbelievable. She scoffed and followed him into her den. “Are you serious? Geralt, you’re hurt and need to be healed before you get an infection.”

“I smell meat pie. Do you have any to spare?” He left no time for her to answer. He grabbed the plate on a table and began to shove them in his mouth. He groaned in satisfaction.

She wanted to be annoyed, but she had never seen him act this way. So instead she watched as he stuffed his face. He sat down slowly in a wooden chair. His large body mass made it creak, rocking it with the sound of the crackling fire. His spastic breathing mellowed out into a deep sigh.

He was definitely hurting from his wound but there was something else. She could sense that something was bothering him. Yet, she didn’t pry for an explanation. Instead, she let him watch the fire as she gathered her supplies of elixirs and jars. Then she picked up the pot full of water hanging above the fire and poured it into a bowl. The steam warmed her face that was still cold from earlier.

“Are you still hungry? I think I only have bread.” She sat her things on the table next to him, but not looking in his direction. However, she could feel his piercing eyes watching her every single move. “If you’re not feeling like bread I can stay up and make you soup.”

His hand flew to her wrist. She jumped, nearly knocking over a bottle with green shiny liquid. She turned her head slightly, sighing deeply. “It hurts,” Geralt mumbled.

His wound was red, inflamed, and looked worse in the light. And if Geralt says it hurts then it was worse than she had imagined. “Take your tunic off while I prepare.” Although it was her giving the instruction, she couldn’t help the heat on her cheeks arise. Especially when he did what he was told. She had only seen his bare chest a handful of times, but each time made her stomach knot up.

He took a heavy breath as he settled back into the chair, wincing when she placed a hot cloth on his open wound. His nails dug into the chair. His teeth clenched as he threw his head back. She couldn’t help but giggle. In return, he snapped his head to look at her, visibly annoyed. “What?”

She swatted him for the rash reaction. “No need to be hot headed, Geralt. I was only laughing because I’ve never seen you act so dramatic.”

“I’m not being dramatic,” he argued. He winced again when the cloth touched his skin once more. He rolled his eyes when he noticed the smirk she tried to hide from him, her hair covered her face. Not thinking, he took his finger and pushed it out of the way so he could see her more clearly.

She tried to ignore the knot in her stomach or how her chest was breathing differently. She even tried to look away subtly but the only thing she could look at without being suspicious was his bare chest. “How’s Yennefer?”

The change of subject was almost as if she had poured salt into his fresh wounds. He yanked his hand away and turned his head to face the fire, jaw ticked. She should’ve felt guilty for bringing up his on and off lover. Instead, she felt relieved his attention was no longer on her and probably wouldn’t be the rest of the night.

That’s how it always went. He would get too close and right before she fell under his spell she would mention the other woman. She had only met the sorceress once. They neither liked or disliked one another. Yet, she could tell there would not be any attempts to go frollicking in a field like they were the best of friends.

In some ways, she had been jealous of Yennefer– she was interesting and traveled the Continent and had fought in many wars. She was beautiful and cunning. Of course Geralt would pick her as a lover.

“Ow.” Geralt grimaced, shifting in the chair. Her fingers were touching the wounds, and spreading them apart. “Are you about done? I’m tired.”

She continued to inspect his wounds closely, having to push between his legs to get a closer look. “I have to ensure there are no severe damages so I know what to make.” His huff made her roll her eyes. She wanted to swat him for still acting like a child. “Whatever got you, got you good, eh?”

He looked away then back at her, swallowing. “Yes, I suppose.”

There was a beat of silence. Only the fire was popping.

“I thought I was goin’ to die.” He said out loud in a low whisper. Almost like he didn’t want her to hear him.

She stopped briefly to look up at him. He was serious. “Well, fortunately whatever it was missed your heart by a hair.” She pointed to where his heart was and traced a line to the start of one of the scratches only millimeters away. She got up, leaving him with a witty smile as she started to pour the many different potions into a different bowl.

“Me and Yennefer haven’t spoken in months,” he admitted.

It was hard not to react, but she had never seen him willingly talk about the woman before. “Oh.”

“We wanted different things I suppose,” he continued. “If it weren’t for Ciri’s letters, then I wouldn’t even know if she was still alive.”

“You miss her?” It was meant to sound like a question, but it came across as a statement.

He looked down at his hands, ashamed. “I’m not sure if I’m allowed to miss someone.”

“Are you not allowed or are you unsure you know what it’s supposed to feel like?”

He didn’t answer.

She walked back and found her place again between his legs. “Missing someone feels like always looking at the door when there’s a knock, and your heart skips a beat, hoping it’s them.” She dipped her finger in the cream she had made and started to apply it to the open wound.

“I don’t live in a cottage with a door.” His hands creeped to his thighs so they brushed her as she moved.

She finished with the first cut and moved onto the second, which was much deeper and longer. “Well, missing someone can also feel like wanting to cry even when you’re happy.”

“You do know I have emotions?” He quizzed her.

She smirked. “Of course I do. I was only trying to help you figure out if you miss Yennefer.”

He hummed, running a finger over the first wound she had treated which was starting to already heal. His skin attaching itself together again. “I miss her, but not in the way you think I do.”

“Then in what way?” She raised her brow, clearly confused as to what he meant.

He didn’t answer her right away. “Not in the way I miss you.”

The bowl in her hand nearly clattered to the floor. She froze, replaying the words over and over as if she hadn’t heard him. Did Geralt really admit to missing her? No, he doesn’t actually mean it. He was messing with her. “That’s not funny.” Her breath was shaky. In fact, her hands were shaky too as she tried to continue healing him.

“Did I make a joke?” His tone was unwavering. He placed his hand on her warm cheek, brushing his thumb over her soft flesh. He had never touched her so intimately like he was now.

She shook her head, using her free hand to brush him away, focusing on the rest of his injuries. “You’ve lost a lot of blood. You’re delusional.”

“I thought your potions helped with that?”

Her eyes flickered up to meet his, briefly, before averting them back to the bowl. She swooped the last of the cream on her finger and spread it slowly over the last scratch. The others had closed up but one could make out the red scar. “Those will go away in due time,” she mumbled.

As she tried to get up he caught her arm, standing up with her, and in doing so their chests were against one another. He could feel her heavy breathing. And she could feel the warmth from his body electrifying hers.

“I should go make your bed. You need to rest.” She tried to walk away but his grip never left her arm. “Geralt.”

He took the bowl from her hands and placed it back on the table. “How much longer will you deny it?”

She swallowed the gasp that had almost escaped her, shaking her head. “What do you mean?” Finally, she had pulled away but made no efforts to leave the room, only stepping back to make space between them. And of course he could probably read her like an open book while she only had his stoic expressions to decipher. He opened his mouth, but closed it, sighing loudly. “Thank you, Y/n.”

Her face softened.

“I don’t… I don’t know what I would’ve done if it weren’t for you. In fact, I don’t know what I would do without you.” His jaw slacked, watching her intensely.

She could feel the pull, like a magnet, all too familiar when it came to Geralt. Normally, she had to ignore it. But at that moment, it felt like a boiling pot of water, steaming and bubbling, unable to contain itself. And as she looked into his piercing eyes, the knot in her stomach told her it was time to say something. “Geralt.” Her voice was above a whisper. “I have something to tell you.”

“Yes?” His expression never faltered.

She shifted her feet, uncomfortable. “I… I um… I’m making oat porridge in the morning.” She had decided it was best to hold back what she really wanted to say. “I’ll go prepare your room.”

His yellow eyes narrowed, searching for hers. She knew he was watching the emotions swirl through her mind. She knew that he knew that wasn’t what she really wanted to say to him. “No.” He was assertive and the growled vibrations dragged along her back like a dagger, giving her chills.

Ignoring the goosebumps along her arms, she ran her hand over her face. “What do you want me to say?” She felt like a twig that had snapped. “Why are you being mean? You stand there forcing a confession out of me. A confession you will never get because there’s nothing to say.” Her tears burned in the corner of her eyes. She hated how foolish she looked in front of him. Crying and blubbering because he decided to dig deeper.

They had a routine. He would knock on the door and she would heal his wounds. Their deep conversations were rare, and sometimes he wouldn’t speak at all. Sometimes he would leave in the morning without a word. So why must this time be any different than the others?

“You’re angry.”

She scoffed. “Yes, I’m angry.” Unable to face him, she turned to look at the fireplace, shaking her head. “That’s the most frustrating part of all of this. I’m angry that you’re here. I’m angry that I don’t see you for months with no word if you’re even alive. I’m angry that you show up when I’m missing you the most.” Her eyes caught his, her nostrils flared. She had had enough of it, storming up to him and putting a finger against his bare chest. “I’m angry that you sit there and touch me and talk to me like we’re lovers. I’m angry that you won’t go to someone else for help. Because I can’t do it anymore, Geralt. I can’t do it.”

And there it was. Years worth of bubbling water, spilling over the pot and all over the floor. She had made a mess that she wasn’t sure if she would be able to clean up.

Geralt’s jaw ticked, his eyes scanning her face. “You wish to not see me anymore? Would that be easier?”

Her finger fell slowly from his chest. Her voice trembled. “It’s easier than caring about you.”

Geralt brought his hand up slowly to her cheek, brushing his knuckle against a tear. “I am angry at you too,” he whispered. Her brows furrowed, unsure what he meant. “I told you I have feelings too. Yet, you assume I don’t. You assume I don’t care about you either.”

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “Do you?”

“Why do you think I keep coming back?” His jaw slacked.

The tension between them was thick and palpable. She wasn’t sure what else there was to say. Her heart was torn. Even with the confession, there was no guarantee. He was a Witcher with responsibilities that were not suitable for the life she wanted. She pushed it away, cracking a smile. “Are you saying that you got injured on purpose? So you could see me?”

“Perhaps.” The corner of his mouth flickered, leaning his head down towards her.

“You could’ve died.” She stepped closer to him, tracing her finger of his scars, looking at his lips.

“But I didn’t.” He said against her mouth, finally closing the gap between them.

He wrapped his arms around her, strong and sure, deepening the kiss. It was gentle but fierce, full of longing and tension that had been built up along the years. It tasted like all the warm tea she had made for him over time.

When she moaned, Geralt took the opportunity to slip his tongue in her mouth, gliding it tenderly and carefully against hers, groaning in satisfaction. He somehow managed to pull her closer as if their bodies weren’t already meshed together.

It was her who broke away first, both of them gasping for air, chests heaving from the heavy kiss. Geralt’s eyes had turned black, his senses heightened, craving more.

Without a word, she unbuttoned her blouse, freeing her chest as she dropped it to the floor. She kissed Geralt again on the mouth, his neck, and then his chest. She whispered in his ear, “I think I should go prepare your room now.”

He nodded, allowing her to take his hand to lead him to her room, rather than the room up in the attic that her guests normally stayed in. It was full of knick knacks and books scattered. Her bed was unmade, but neither one of them cared.

She pushed him on the bed, straddling his lap, peppering kisses all over his chest. If she was smart, she would savor all of it– every kiss and touch. But fuck all of it. She had waited too long to savor it. She grinded herself against his hardness, smiling against his ear when she felt him jump through his trousers. Something had told her it was too long for him too.

The rest of their clothes had found a new place on the floor of her bedroom. She was now laying down, Geralt hovered over her, his chain dangled over her face, and his hands roamed over her bare body as she whimpered under his touch. His lips attacked her neck, trailing down her body, relishing every inch.

“Geralt,” she mewled.

She felt the vibrations of his chuckle, revitalizing her, the warmth between her legs now ached. “Yes?” He came back towards her mouth, placing a life-wrecking kiss on it.

She nibbled his bottom lip. “You know.”

“Mm, I don’t think I do,” he teased. His hand was between her legs, fingers gliding, taunting her.

She thrusted her hips upwards, forcing friction against her swollen clit, gasping when he slid a finger in her. “I need you.”

The pitiful look in her eyes convinced him enough to give her what she wanted. And because any longer, he felt like he would combust. Geralt pushed her legs apart and then guided his girthy length to her entrance, sliding it in slowly.

She gasped as he sunk deeper inside her, finally able to marvel all of her. It was sweet like the honey she snuck in his tea. Rich like the pastries she packed in his knapsack whenever he left in the mornings, without saying goodbye because he was afraid he would never leave if he saw her golden smile in the mornings. Yet, he wasn’t strong enough to never come back.

At first, his thrusts were slow and tender, slipping so deep that his tip reached as far as it could. She gripped his shoulders, nails forming crescents, back arching as he picked up the pace. She wanted to hug him with her thighs, but his hands were sure to keep them open and spread for him.

The sounds of their sticky skin crashing together blended with their moans and grunts, forming a delectable melody. She pulled him into an open-mouth sloppy kiss, humming. The bed rattled beneath them, his pace was dangerously close to cracking the frame.

In a swift move, he pulled her up, so that she was straddling him. Their bare chests flushed together, her face in the crook of his neck, whimpering as she bounced on his cock. “I’m… fuck,” she breathed, unable to make the words as it hit her sweet spot.

“Me too.” He slightly pushed her shoulders back, wanting to see her. His palm cradled her face, swallowing the thickness stuck in his throat. He knew he looked destroyed. He didn’t show how he felt often, but the pent up tension over the year had finally arisen.

“G…Geralt!” She shouted as her walls closed around him, releasing her orgasm around him, resting her forehead on his chest as he continued to move her up and down. She clutched onto him as if she was about to float away.

He threw his head back as his cock twitched, finishing, He thrusted through his climax, panting as he slowed to a halt. His senses were still high and could hear the fire still crackling in the den. He could feel her breathing still rugged and hot, sticking to his chest.

She couldn’t see it but Geralt let a small smile briefly appear as he stroked her bare back. He placed a kiss on the top of her head. She looked up at him, running her fingers through his snow-white hair. “Will you stay one more night?”

He tilted his head, brows knitted together. “Are you still angry with me?”

A mischievous glimmer crossed her eyes. “If I am, does that mean you’ll stay?”

He snickered, placing a peck on her lips, lingering, scared if he were to break away she’d disappear.

Angry or not, he was going to stay one more night.

#geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x y/n #geralt x you #geralt smut #geralt x reader smut #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher smut #the witcher x reader #the witcher x you #the witcher x y/n #the witcher fic #blaize writes #geralt of rivia imagine #the witcher imagine

4K notes · View notes

yawnderu · 5 months

Text

K-9 — Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader | Chapter III

Sick as a dog, and just as vicious.

1 2 3 4 5

You work magic with your hands

The human body is able to withstand extreme damage.

"Medic!" Price's voice boomed across base, heavy footsteps following right after. The door slammed open before you could even get up, Gaz and Simon carrying a bloodied Soap. They set him down on the medical bed and you got up, rushing to them and examining the damage.

It's incredible, really, how the human body can withstand extreme conditions and stay resilient, such as a gunshot that had blood leaking out of Johnny's head like a faucet.

"Out. With me, Simon." You bark out orders and the men obey, Price patting your shoulder twice, the look in his eyes saying much more than words. Fix him.

"Apply pressure on the wound." Simon nods his head, quickly discarding his skull gloves as his bare hands apply pressure on Johnny's chest to limit the blood loss. You felt a weak pulse earlier, yet the sound of the EKG machine as soon as you hook him up served as reassurance. You immediately put on your gloves, not bothering to hook him up to an IV to avoid wasting time. His heartbeat is weak, but he's still here.

Your hands get to work immediately as Simon begins to treat the wound on Johnny's chest, a much simpler injury than the bullet in his head. You bring the light closer to his head, able to make out the familiar glint of the bullet encrusted in his brain.

Twelve hours. That's how long it took to complete surgery on Johnny to remove the bullet in his head and stabilize him. He's a lucky motherfucker; the base of his brain and spinal cord being completely untouched, allowing him to be part of the 10% of people who have survived a headshot.

Your knees give out right after you make sure Johnny is all covered up, exhaustion and stress along with the disappearing adrenaline finally catching up to you. Strong arms wrap around your torso to prevent you from falling— Simon, who refused to leave your office, staying awake those twelve hours in case his help was needed.

"With you, lass." He reminds you, helping you stand up and guiding you to your chair, crouching down to get a better look at you.

"Need a cuppa?" He asked gently, the back of his hand making contact with your forehead to check for your temperature.

"Fucking brits..." You grumble, tired eyes looking down at him, the way his gaze softens and the corners of his mouth tilt up into a small smile, a deep laugh escaping out of his lips for a second.

"Some coffee?" You nod your head, hands going under your glasses to gently rub your eyes as you struggle to stay awake. He gets up, hand on your shoulder squeezing softly to make you look up at him.

"I'll go tell that lot Johnny made it, think you can stay awake until they're here?" His words had hints of teasing despite the concern in his eyes, only turning away once you nodded your head. You got up from the chair, walking over to the medical bed and looking at Johnny's unconscious body. His heart beat was stable, at the very least.

"I miss you, Johnny." Your hand reaches out to hold his, squeezing softly before you bring it to your lips and plant a soft kiss on his knuckles, slowly putting his hand back on his stomach. As annoying as he can be, he feels like a younger brother, someone you'd lay down your own life for with no hesitation, though that secretly goes for the rest of the team.

You take a step back when you hear footsteps approaching, pretending to fix the new IV injected to him.

"Doc." Price greets, walking over to you and looking down at Johhny. Bruised and bloody, but alive.

"Knew I made the right choice with you." His heavy hand pats your shoulder, managing to offer you a smile despite all the stress he was in, not knowing whether or not one of his boys was going to make it.

"I'm honored, Captain." He could hear the appreciation under the layer of sarcasm.

"I don't know when he's going to wake up, but there wasn't any damage on the frontal lobe or top of the brain, so probably not gonna have brain damage either... not that it'd make much of a difference." You drift off, eyebrows furrowing slightly as you think back on the twelve hours that just passed, the deep chuckle escaping the captain turning your attention back to him.

"Good. Go rest, Gaz and I will take turns watching over him." You simply nod, turning away to leave and patting his arm gently as you walk past. A small smirk sets on your lips when you feel the muscle, quickly leaving the office and going to your quarters. You barely manage to remove the bloodstained white coat before you collapse in bed, any thoughts about what happened and the coffee Simon was making for you completely forgotten as you finally drift off to sleep.

[PREVIOUS] [NEXT]

842 notes · View notes

evsstolenhearts · 4 months

Text

Summary: Jason patches you up after a patrol

Jason Todd x gn!vigilante!reader | roughly 1k words | no y/n

Warnings: some cussing, mentions of stab wounds, cuts, and gun shots

✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡

Just as it was getting dark in Gotham, you and Jason went your separate ways. Leaving the shared apartment to go patrol the city. But your night way cut shorter than usual when a fight with a crime ring got a little to intense.

Normally, like any of the vigilantes in Gotham, a few scratches are nothing. A small knife wound, or even a single bullet hole can be patched up somewhere and you can finish patrol.

But last time that happened, someone (your lovely boyfriend) gave you shit. Even though you've totally found this man beaten and bruised in an alley way.

So, to please the hypocrite of the relationship, you made your way back to the apartment and gave Oracle a heads up. Which is why Jason found you passes out on the couch. Blood lightly staining your suit. It was obvious, that instead of coming home, changing, patching up your wounds, and getting some pain killers. You just fell asleep.

Jason takes it upon himself to strip off the top layers of his own costume, until he's in the compression shirt and cargo pants. Looking very yummy. You awake to this sight because he's carefully taking off and moving your suit out of the way.

"You know, you should at least take me on a date first..." you mumble as he stills his movements at the sound of your voice.

"I think those standards get thrown out the window when you're bleeding on my couch." Jason chuckles as he finishes taking off your suit, leaving you in your undergarments. "Come on, I need you to sit up."

He helps you sit up on the couch, hands supporting your lower back and hip. The pain of moving makes you groan, the gash under the right side of your chest moving with you. "Damn babe, what did you do?" He grabs the disinfectant and some paper towels, beginning to poor it on the wound and use the towels to collect the extra liquid.

"Bad bitch shit, obviously." You laugh at your own statement, but it quickly becomes a pained hiss as the movement makes the cut hurt worse.

Jason sighs as he carefully works on patching you up, kneeling on the ground between your legs to get a better view, "what actually happened?" Despite trying to sound disapproving, there's an obvious smile on his face.

While giving the actual explanation, one of your hands hold Jason's shoulder to stay distracted from the pain. "I was investigating that crime ring that's been springing up. Steph was mentioning how she has a theory they are branching out to some gags around Gotham and might be moving out of the city soon- fuck be careful holy shit-" you curse as jason applies to much pressure on the wound.

"'M sorry." He says softly as he waits for you to continue.

"Anyways- I was originally just gonna do some lurking, some snooping, you know. But I swear to God these aren't just normal assholes fucking off, I double checked myself and they still saw me." You take a break in talking to take a deep breath, as jason almost finishes, "I'm totally convinced at least one of them are a meta or something. So I'm gonna probably send the case information to someone else."

"You could have had me come with you, ya know." His voice is quite, knowing that despite what he says, he would have gone alone as well, so he really can't be mad at you. Jason finishes his work, packing up the first aid kit.

You watch him as he finishes, the apartment silent. Only thing able to be heard is the faint and distinct sound of Gothams road. "I can handle it Jay." Your voice is now just as quite, as if speaking to loud would damage either of you.

"Yes you can, I know you can." Standing up to put the first aid kit back in the kitchen, your eyes follow his movements. "It's just not a fantasy of mine to see you bleeding on the couch."

"Says the man who has made us get new bed sheets because he bled on them?" Resting your head on the back of the couch smiling lazily. He walks back over, so you see him from an upside down perspective.

Jason puts his hands on his hips as he smirks down at you, "This conversation isn't about me."

"But you would be a very good topic." Your smile grows as he rolls his eyes and walks infront of you. Everything goes silent again, looking into eachothers eyes for a few moments.

"Wanna get to bed?" He asks softly.

"Only if you carry me there." You pathetically respond. At your response, Jason's hand covers his face to hide his equally pathetic smile.

Without responding, he carefully picks you up. "This what you wanted?"

Now it's your turn to smirk as he walks you to your shared bedroom, "absolutely."

Jason puts you down on the bed as you both quietly go about your nightly routine.

Jason changed out of the remaining parts of his suit, into a pair of sweatpants and no shirt.

While he does that, you throw on some sleep clothes, careful to damage your wound more, before going back into the living room to move your suit off the floor so you can wash it in the morning.

When you walk back into the bed room, Jason is already waiting for you in bed.

"Well hello there, it's so nice of you to join us." He teases, us being him and the plushie that is on your side of the bed. With a smile you roll your eyes and crawl in next to him.

Snuggling up to him, you both latch onto one another legs tangles under the sheets as breathing evens out.

Masterlist

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd fluff #jason todd imagine #jason todd x gn!reader #red hood #redhood #jason todd fanfiction #jason todd fanfic #redhood x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x you #red hood x you #redhood x you #red hood fluff #redhood fluff #jason todd comfort

237 notes · View notes

drafthorsemath · 4 months

Text

Tooka Dad

Crosshair x Veterinarian OC Rayla

Word Count: 6.331k

Warnings: None really – Fluff, new relationship, cuddling, bed sharing. Brief descriptions of a stray animal in need of medical attention, TLC, and spaying. Brief mentions of Crosshair’s medical trauma / tomophobia.

A/N: This came to my brain and now it’s words. I don’t know what else to say about it. No description of Rayla’s appearance outside of her being fem and using she/her pronouns. Thank you to @staycalmandhugaclone @eclec-tech and @lightwise for the encouragement.

It had been months since Crosshair had rejoined his siblings and they found themselves on Pabu. The adjustment had been difficult. It was still difficult. There were many things he wouldn’t speak about. His brothers gave him some space, not pushing too much, but making sure he knew he wasn’t alone. He, Omega, and Tech had spent time together healing physically after Mt. Tantiss, as well as healing whatever mental wounds they could. Those were taking the most time, especially for Crosshair.

He didn’t want to leave the house today, but Wrecker insisted (in his own Wrecker way) that he come to the docks and help move some cargo. Crosshair rolled his eyes but got to his feet and followed his brother down to the ocean. They spent the morning moving crates from boats on to the docks, but as the sun continued to beam down on them, Crosshair’s eyes started to ache from the light.

“I got it from here,” Wrecker said, knowing his brother’s sensitivity. Crosshair simply nodded his thanks and headed toward some shade. Before he could sit down, he saw something small scamper away from behind one of the crates Wrecker picked up. He followed the movements and kneeled down, looking under a bench that sat under a tree.

“What is it,” Wrecker asked.

A tiny gray tooka kitten peered at them through crusty eyes. Crosshair wasn’t entirely sure how the little creature could see.

“Tooka,” Crosshair answered. Wrecker knelt down further and smiled at the scared kitten.

“A baby tooka? Aww, Crosshair we gotta take it home.” Wrecker smiled and tried to make space so he could grab the little ball of fur, but the kitten would have none of it and scurried to hide behind the other side of the bench.

“Just wait,” the Crosshair advised. His brother sighed but nodded and got back to work. Instead of sitting on the bench, Crosshair sat on the ground next to it. The next two hours were spent waiting for the animal to come out. He wasn’t going to force anything. Wrecker checked in after he was done with the crates. Although the tooka hadn’t moved, he knew that if anyone had the patience to wait it out and earn its trust, it was Crosshair. Wrecker went home, grabbed some lunch, and brought it back. He silently held out some homemade bread and fruit to his brother, sitting next to him as they silently ate. The tooka let out a little squeak and Wrecker saw just the smallest tug of a smile on his Crosshair’s face. Eventually Wrecker decided to head home and help Tech with moving some big equipment.

As the time passed, Crosshair thought of his time away from his siblings. How much doubt and fear were in his heart despite deciding to stay on the platform on Kamino. Of the ongoing pain he had each time his chip was enhanced. The absolute horror in his soul when his actions felt like they were someone else’s, but he knew his hands pulled the trigger. He had never wanted to lose control and yet the Empire had him in its grasp and his mind wasn’t fully his own. He’d been so conditioned and the chip only added another layer of complexity. He closed his eyes and sighed as he pressed his hands flat on the ground beneath him in an attempt to center himself in the here and now. He wasn’t alone anymore. Just as he had this thought, he felt some tiny fluff brush against his hand. He opened his eyes to find the kitten sitting next to his fingertips. He gently picked up the creature and stood. The tooka didn’t make a sound and didn’t fight as Crosshair walked back them back to Upper Pabu. He was fairly certain the lack of fight was only because the animal was fur and bones.

“Tech,” was all he said upon finding his brother working on the Marauder. Tech stood, adjusting his goggles, and raised his eyebrows.

“A tooka,” he replied, “and in a sorry state.”

Crosshair hummed in agreement. Tech knew this was his brother’s way of asking for help. He pulled out his datapad and examined the kitten in Crosshair’s hands.

“There appears to be an eye infection, parasites, and a serious lack of nutrition,” noted Tech. “I could possibly find some food for her, but I cannot immediately find appropriate medication for her ailments. Why don’t you take her to the veterinarian?”

Crosshair sighed. At least he now knew the tooka was a she and some of what was going on with her, but he wasn’t quite sure about a veterinarian. He didn’t want this little girl to be scared any more than she already was and he understood how anything medical might cause her more fear. Then again, she looked miserable and he couldn’t let her stay that way.

“Alright,” he agreed. He didn’t even realize the island had a veterinarian. Tech gave him the location and he headed back down the path.

It had been a long day for Rayla. One of Pabu’s residents had decided to buy a pair of orbaks to help cart goods around and she hadn’t treated anything with hooves since veterinary school. One of them was particularly stubborn, but she liked a good challenge. It was never about forcing something on an animal. It was about reading body language and helping them feel safe enough to get through any needed procedures.

She looked up as a tall man came through the door. She smiled to herself. Rayla had spent time with his brothers since they settled on Pabu and Omega was fascinated with her career choice. They talked about him briefly, but she hadn’t met him yet.

“Hello,” she said with a soft smile. “Crosshair, right? I’m Rayla. How can I help you?”

Crosshair looked at the woman in front of him and then down at the tiny tooka. “Found her,” he said. He didn’t seem surprised she knew his name. There were some people on the island who guessed who he was based on association.

“How about you come back to the exam room and we’ll take a look,” Rayla offered. He simply nodded and followed. Crosshair looked around the room, almost more afraid than the tooka. There were various instruments, and he was sure there were even more in the cabinet. The veterinarian washed her hands and put on some gloves.

“How about we start with a weight,” she suggested, nodding to the scale. Crosshair put the kitten down, almost afraid to let go. She weighed much less than she should. Rayla noted her weight and then suggested a particular food for her. He nodded and moved her off the scale. He couldn’t quite keep his hands off her, trying to keep the contact while the exam was completed for fear of losing her or seeing her scared.

“She’s got an eye infection. I can give you drops for those and show you how to put them in.” He nodded. He noticed Rayla stopped and gave the kitten a little break and spoke kindly to her before looking through her fur.

“She has fleas too.”

His eyes got wide, but he still didn’t pull away from her.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “Fleas are species specific. Her fleas won’t harm anyone but other tookas. We can give her a flea bath now if you’d like.” Crosshair nodded and let out a little relieved breath.

He held on to her while Rayla filled a small tub with warm water. Crosshair tentatively put the small creature in the tub. While the veterinarian worked the shampoo in and rinsed, he held the kitten and helped keep her head up. The little tooka clung to his thumb with her front legs and Rayla couldn’t help but smile.

“She’s really taken with you,” she said.

“Mm,” was all he let out, but his eyes went soft.

“Are you planning on keeping her or would you like me to find her a hom-“

“No,” he firmly blurted out before quieting his tone again. “I’ll keep her.”

“Sounds good,” she replied, getting a towel.

Crosshair took it upon himself to wrap her up. Rayla showed him how to put drops in her eyes.

“In about a week you could give her a dewormer pill.”

He nodded and followed her out of the room. She gathered the dewormer pill, some food for the kitten - explaining that for the time being she needed food that would be easy on her digestive system - and a lightweight slip lead. Rayla put everything in a bag and handed it to him. Getting out a data pad for her records, she asked if the newly adopted animal had a name yet.

“Vaar’ika,” he said.

“What does it mean,” she asked curiously.

“Pip-squeak.” Just as he said that, Vaar’ika let out tiny peep that made Rayla smile. She entered the relevant information.

“Well then,” she replied, “congratulations Vaar’ika. And congratulations Tooka Dad.”

Crosshair felt warmth flood his cheeks and ears, but it wasn’t unwelcome. He nodded at all Rayla’s directions about the dewormer and a follow up appointment.

As he left, Rayla couldn’t help but think that she quite liked him. He may have said very few words, but he was so expressive. He was easy for her to read and she knew she could trust a man who adopted an ailing kitten without question.

Crosshair took Vaar’ika home. Wrecker had already told Echo, Hunter, and Omega about her and Omega waited at the window to meet this new addition to the family. Crosshair came through the door and held the little one close to his chest. She was exhausted and he could feel her little body shake from the stress of the day.

“I want to help,” Omega declared.

Crosshair didn’t say anything as he walked toward his bedroom. He simply nodded in the general direction of the hallway and Omega’s smile grew as she knew it meant she could follow him. Crosshair put the tiny bundle on his bed and started looking for something to make a tooka bed.

“What’s wrong with her eyes,” Omega asked.

“Infection,” Crosshair answered. “Needs to be given eye drops for a few days at least.”

“I can help,” Omega answered.

“Omega,” Crosshair warned. He knew she was excited, but he wanted to approach the kitten’s treatment in a methodical way. He looked at his sister for several moments and then nodded. “Fine, but she won’t need more drops until tomorrow.”

Crosshair shuffled through his belongings in his closet and found an old pair of blacks. He used a spare pillow to make something of a little bed with the blacks as a bedding. He placed the new bed on the floor near his own. Omega watched as the little tooka crawled on the bed closer to her brother. He put her on the new bed and quietly told her he’d be back soon. Omega followed him down the hall and grinned at her other brothers who were all at least a bit curious about their new roommate. While Crosshair grabbed a small plate and spoon and headed back to his room, Omega helped Echo and Hunter with dinner.

Vaar’ika was hiding under his bed, but Crosshair sat down, opened a can of food, and spooned out a little on the plate. He placed it on the floor and she came out to eat. He smiled while watching her eat. She had an appetite and he knew that was important in her healing. He retrieved a little bowl of water for her and gave her a bit more food. After she finished eating and drinking, she jumped up on the window and pawed at it. Crosshair pursed his lips and then decided to take her outside. He looped the leash around her and picked her up. His hunch was right. Almost immediately, she found a spot to relieve herself. Maybe he had lucked out when it came to house training.

When finished, she tried climbing his leg and he picked her up. Her eyes were less messy than they were before, and he could make out the way she looked at him. He felt a little glow in his heart at the thought that this creature had chosen him and wanted to be with him. He took her back inside, took off the leash, and placed her back on the makeshift bed. During dinner with his siblings some questions were asked, but no one asked if he would be keeping her. Based on what they saw, they knew she would stay and it would be a good change.

Once dinner was over, Crosshair made his way back to his room to give Vaar’ika another small meal. She ate it quickly and climbed on the window again. He took her out and this time she wandered around a little bit, exploring her new home. He took her back in, holding her in the crook of his arm and heading to bed. He placed her on her own bed, but once he climbed into his own, he could see her moving in the darkness. She made her way up the side of his bed post and purred as she snuggled against his chest. Crosshair smiled to himself and fluffed her hair before they drifted off to sleep together.

Crosshair spent the next few days helping her find her feet. They established morning and evening walk routes. He purchased a little pink collar for her, making sure it included her name and his. It wasn’t long before he was comfortable taking her around off-leash. She never wandered too far and for the most part, seemed to like watching this world from her perch on his shoulders. He let Omega hold Vaar’ika when it was time to put her eyedrops in, but he never let Omega put the drops in. Finally Omega managed to wear him down and convinced him to let her try. Crosshair held the kitten, holding her back to his chest and supporting her back end with one hand. Omega approached the tooka’s eyes with the dropper bottle, aiming for the middle of her left eye.

“Omega, no!” It came out a little louder than he meant. He leaned back to pull his little bundle away. He gave his sister a warning look. She looked confused and a little hurt. He took a deep breath and found calm again. Until he had visited Rayla, he wouldn’t have known what to do either. It wasn’t fair to expect Omega to know without help.

“Aim for the corner of her eyes. It’s easier that way.” He offered her a smile and Omega tried again, this time leaving a couple little drops in each corner of Vaar’ika’s eyes.

“Perfect,” he said to his sister. “Thank you.”

“Happy to help,” Omega replied.

He was supposed to give the tooka her dewormer pill, but wasn’t sure he could do it and certainly didn’t expect Omega to. He remembered Rayla’s instructions as he sat Vaar’ika on his bed and held the tiny pill between his thumb and finger.

“Simply open her mouth, pop the pill in, and hold her mouth closed until she swallows,” Rayla had said. He hadn’t thought much about it since at the time, he knew it was a future problem and he was only focused on eye drops and establishing some routines. Now that it came to it, he looked at his little friend and couldn’t just open her mouth. And what, he thought. Force her to swallow a pill? It reminded him too much of the procedures he and his brothers had been forced through. He remembered thinking a warning before a necessary injection or asking him if he was ready would have helped him a great deal as a young cadet, yet he had never really been afforded that dignity.

He sighed to himself, picked up Vaar’ika and the pill, and marched to the vet clinic. Rayla was just finishing with a client and about to go to lunch when he walked in.

“Crosshair!” She beamed at him, happy to see him with the tooka. “And Vaar’ika. How are you?”

“I can’t give her the pill,” he said directly.

“Did she not want it,” Rayla asked. Many animals had trouble taking medication and it wasn’t an uncommon concern. “Did she spit it up?”

“No,” Crosshair said, revealing he still had the pill in its original form. “I can’t make her take it.”

Rayla sensed a great amount of empathy in him. He seemed scared to hurt this kitten, this small creature he’d already becoming so very attached to.

“She might take it if you mix it in her food. Is she still eating?”

Crosshair nodded.

“Okay,” Rayla acknowledged. “Cut the pill in quarters and put it in her dinner tonight. If she doesn’t eat it all, stop by tomorrow and we’ll see about another way.”

Crosshair nodded again.

“May I,” Rayla asked, hands out to touch the tooka. Crosshair nodded a third time and Rayla petted the little pile of fluff. She purred at the vet.

“I’m glad to see her eyes have cleared up,” she said. “She probably doesn’t need the drops anymore after tomorrow. Just keep the rest of the bottle should she need them in the future. She already looks so much better. She’ll need a few vaccines as soon as you feel she’s strong enough and she’ll be old enough to spay in a couple months. Unless you want more kittens.”

Crosshair froze a bit. He’d assumed that was further down the road, but not this soon. He didn’t want her to get pregnant. He wanted to do the responsible thing for her and was sure Hunter would have a few words with him if there were kittens. Besides, he didn’t want to worry about her going through pregnancy and labor.

“Let’s schedule that now,” he said.

Rayla nodded and pulled up her schedule. He’d be back in a week for the vaccines. They decided on a day for the spaying and she gave him instructions for what to do the night before and day of as far as food and water.

“See you both in a week for vaccines,” she said as they left.

Crosshair held Vaar’ika a little closer to his chest, hugging her before letting her perch on his shoulders. He didn’t like the thought of putting her through surgery or even the vaccinations. He knew they were necessary, but he didn’t want her in pain ever. Still, he knew it was for the best. To help him relax, he took the long way home, chuckling as Vaar’ika hissed at a few moon-yos who tried reaching for her. His thoughts also went to this veterinarian. Most people on the island were nice enough, but he didn’t let anyone close. This person was watching him at some very vulnerable moments whether she knew it or not.

That evening he cut the dewormer pill up into quarters and mixed it into the tooka food. He placed the plate down and Vaar’ika started eating. She paused at one point, knowing there was something different, and Crosshair held his breath. She took a taste and didn’t seem to mind and finished the entire thing. He felt so much relief. That night, like every night at this point, the kitten climbed into his bed and slept cuddled up against him. When she got up to stretch her feet or if she needed to go outside, he immediately woke up at the loss of her tiny body’s warmth. Then they’d get back to bed and fall asleep together.

Crosshair started finding reasons to visit the vet clinic in the days leading up to vaccination day. The smallest question about changing her food as she grew, asking questions about exercise, and some of the more mundane things. He knew that he just wanted to see Rayla and have an excuse to get outside with Vaar’ika. Rayla didn’t mind. He always patiently waited if she was already with someone or had an appointment. She liked seeing him and the positive impact the tooka and the sniper had on each other. She let Crosshair say as much or as little as he wanted. She asked questions but knew when to back off. She wasn’t a completely open book, but she shared parts of herself with him too. He got curious and asked how she ended up on Pabu one day after she’d shown him how to make sure the kitten’s nails didn’t get too long. She explained how she left her home world when the Empire started taking over cities on the other side of her planet. She wasn’t going to wait around to see what would happen.

“Smart,” he replied. Rayla smiled sadly. She missed her former home, but knew she was lucky to be here. The threat of sea surges was much less daunting than dealing with the Empire.

“See you next time, Crosshair.”

He let a tiny smile escape and he left.

When he showed up for the kitten’s scheduled vaccines, he was a bit of a mess. He didn’t want her to be upset or hurt, but he also didn’t want to risk her dying of something preventable.

“I’ll be quick and I’ll use the smallest needle I have,” Rayla promised. “Do you want me to take her in the back and just get it over with or do you want to be with her.” She knew some animals did better away from their nervous person, but it was very much a case-by-case situation.

“I can’t leave her,” he replied.

Rayla nodded and instinctively put a hand on his arm. He let out a breath. They went back in the exam room and she weighed the tooka, noticing she’d put on a good amount of weight.

“Would you like to sit and hold her instead of keeping her on the exam table,” the vet asked.

Crosshair nodded and sat down, holding Vaar’ika. A small smile pulled at his cheek and he relaxed as she looked up at him. She wasn’t scared. The little fluff ball was just happy to be with him.

“I’ll be quick. Just two little jabs. Here we go.” Rayla moved quickly and precisely. The kitten let out a couple of squeaks, but nothing too bad. After it was over, Rayla smiled as she heard him quietly telling Vaar’ika what a great job she did. As he was about to leave, Rayla decided to take her chance.

“Hey, not to be too forward,” she started, suddenly feeling very nervous now that she was putting this into words. Crosshair turned back to look at her curiously.

She continued, trying to keep any shakiness at bay. “You’ve stopped by a lot and we’ve gotten to know each other more and I was just thinking… if you want to spend some time together after hours, let me know.”

“Dinner,” he asked.

“I’d like that,” she replied.

“Tomorrow?”

“You know when I close.”

“I’ll be here.”

Both felt a warmth radiate over their cheeks as they said their goodbyes for the day. Crosshair carried his little bundle home while his mind ran wild with all kinds of thoughts. He didn’t want to let his nerves get to him and at the same time, he was giddy at the thought of spending more time with Rayla. He had to grin to himself. She liked his company. He hadn’t gotten very close to anyone who wasn’t a clone. There was an understanding with his brothers. He’d grown up with them. Omega was incredibly understanding of everyone, almost to the point of his annoyance. Even with the regs, there was an understanding. Learning about someone in-depth with a completely different background was a newer experience to him, but he found that Rayla embraced each bit of himself that he revealed. Even when he was having an extra grumpy and stressful day, she seemed happy to see him.

The next evening, he left Vaar’ika with Wrecker and Omega. They were more than happy to babysit the tooka. They were having a movie night and Crosshair knew she would be doing her utmost to steal their snacks. The thought made him very happy.

He tried to pick out his nicest outfit and headed to the vet clinic. He sat in the waiting room and listened to Rayla explain the medication dosage for someone’s pet bird. Rayla joined him a few minutes after the bird and their owner left. She’d quickly changed out of her scrubs and into a simple dress before joining him.

“You look nice,” she said with a smile.

“So do you.”

“I thought I’d try to wear something nicer than my scrubs,” she replied.

“You’d look nice in anything,” he said as heat rose to his cheeks.

Rayla wasn’t sure what to say. She felt seen and beamed up at him. They headed to a quiet restaurant on the other side of the island. While people all tended to know each other on Pabu, they both wanted some time just the two of them so the calmer spot seemed more ideal. They ordered and sat while watching the sun start to set.

“I’ll level with you,” Rayla said. “I’ve talked to your siblings. I feel like I know quite a bit about you, but I want to learn about you from you.”

He simply nodded. “Not much to say,” he replied.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

Rayla asked him some questions, wanted to know a bit about sniping, and how he liked the island. She was also interested in his enhanced skills. The scientist in her was curious, but she wanted to keep it respectful. Crosshair’s comments were short as usual, but as time went by and they ate, he shared a bit more about himself. For now, they avoided the topic of the Empire.

“Tell me about yourself,” he said before taking a sip of his drink. He was much more interested in learning about her than talking about himself.

“I think you already know a lot about me from our earlier conversations,” she answered.

“Hmm,” he said thoughtfully with a bit of a smile on his face. “Have you always worked alone? You do so much.”

“I had a vet tech until I came here. Actually, I purchased a GH-7 medical droid recently and I’m trying to modify it for veterinary work.”

“Tech will be pleased to hear that,” Crosshair replied. “He loves those kinds of projects. He’ll pick your brain next time he sees you.” Crosshair was pleased too. He saw how hard she worked and felt she needed a bit of a break sometimes. Having an assistant could go a long way in helping make her job easier.

“I’m sure. If I run into trouble Tech’s the first person I’d ask for help when it comes to droids.” She took a couple more bites of food and added, “Of course it helps to have the personal touch and I’ll still be very involved. It’ll just help to have a droid to do some of the more routine and boring things, measuring out and compounding medication, answering comms, billing, ordering supplies, passing my tools during surgeries, and making sure procedures are as precise as possible.” She then told a story about a droid she knew in vet school who was reprogrammed to only want to work on massiffs. A couple of her fellow vet students thought it would be funny for the professor’s droid to randomly refuse to help with other animals during demonstrations and who tried to switch places with other droids so it could work exclusively on massiffs. He watched her with a soft smile on his face while she told this story. As she finished, she paused for a moment.

“Sorry,” she said. “Didn’t mean to go on. It was just a silly thing to watch unfold.”

“No, I liked it,” he replied. He didn’t want her to stop. “Dessert?”

She beamed and nodded. They shared a piece of cake topped with all kinds of local fruit. He let her have the last bite but hoped it wouldn’t be the last time they shared a meal. He walked her home and once at the door bit his lip as his eyes darted a bit.

“Could we do this again,” he asked.

“What are you doing on Benduday?”

Each date felt a little more comfortable than the last. His favorite dates were whenever they would go out on a boat together just the two of them. It was incredibly peaceful and gave him the chance to be a bit more open without worrying about anyone else around them.

One evening she was supposed to meet him at the restaurant and didn’t. He’d brought flowers and wore a new shirt and definitely didn’t love the feeling of sitting at the table alone. He thought to himself that this was the first time in a long time where he was consistently seeking the presence of another instead of solitude. Before he could spiral and let too many negative thoughts enter his mind, he decided to check at the clinic. He knew there might have been an emergency that required her attention. When he arrived, the clinic door was unlocked and he saw a light coming from an exam room. He let himself in and sat in the waiting area.

In the exam room, Rayla explain the situation to the worried owner. Her scans indicated a foreign object blocking the stomach and she and GHost – the now modified GH-7 droid – completed surgery to remove the offending mass. She sent the patient and their person home with a course of medication to help. Not long after they left, Rayla came out to find Crosshair dozing in his chair. She walked up to him and kissed his forehead.

“Mm.” He opened his eyes to look up at her. “Missed you.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “It was an emergency.”

“I know,” he replied, standing up and kissing her cheek. “These are for you.”

She took the flowers and kissed him again. “They’re lovely. Thank you.” After a pause and check of the time, she added, “I’ll clean up quickly. Walk me home?”

He simply nodded. She cleaned off all the equipment and the table in the exam room, turned out the lights, and took his hand. They took their time walking together. It was a pleasant night and both were a little sad they didn’t get to have a relaxing dinner together.

“We should go out after Vaar’ika heals from her spay surgery,” Rayla suggested, knowingly adding, “I know you won’t want to leave her until she’s all healed up.”

“I just want to make sure she’ll be okay,” he answered. “But yes. I’d like that.”

She squeezed his hand and they grinned at each other.

The night before Vaar’ika’s spay, Crosshair was a mess. He barely slept. The only thing that calmed him down was the little tooka herself. She had no idea what was coming but was simply living in the moment and in this moment, she wanted to sleep on his chest. He sat in front of a holovid with his family and slowly stroked the her soft fur. They fell asleep together as usual, but the next morning, his jitters were back.

He walked her to the clinic, letting her perch on his shoulder, but carrying a crate since she would still be drowsy on the way home and Rayla insisted she needed a crate to limit movement while she healed.

“Good morning,” Rayla said as they came through the door. “Ready?”

Crosshair didn’t respond but tried to smile.

“She’s going to do great. I even have my droid GHost ready to go, unless you aren’t comfortable with him assisting me.”

Crosshair simply shook his head that he didn’t mind. “I trust you.”

Rayla took Vaar’ika and the crate as Crosshair tried to decide if he wanted to sit or pace. Her experience said that getting this over with was the best plan. Her voice softened and she tried to reassure him.

“It won’t take long. I’ll make sure she has pain management and that she’s fully anesthetized, so she doesn’t feel anything during the procedure.”

He nodded and sat down. Rayla took the tooka to the back to prepare her for surgery. GHost weighed her and drew the appropriate levels of medication. As the tooka went to sleep and Rayla shaved her belly, Crosshair could hear the calm way she addressed his little companion.

“Looks like you’re asleep already. Oxygen levels and heart rate are normal. Let’s begin.” It wasn’t long before Crosshair heard her say, “There’s that little uterus. Tiny thing. Already out. Let’s close.”

Crosshair started shaking but breathed through it. The adrenaline that was coursing through his system all morning had finally started to wear off and it left him feeling a bit dizzy. He sat back and focused on his breathing while he heard the woman he loved talking sweetly to Vaar’ika. Not long after, Rayla reappeared with a sleepy tooka in the crate. Without thinking about it, Crosshair embraced her as he became overwhelmed with relief.

“She did great, love. She really did. She should heal up perfectly.” Rayla went over care instructions and ended it with “She should stay in her crate as much as possible for the first week. No climbing or jumping. I used surgical glue that has some bacta in it so she will heal faster. Try to keep that cone on her so she doesn’t lick.” Crosshair nodded. “And comm me if anything comes up.”

Vaar’ika slept most of the day. She whined a bit at dinner time and Crosshair let her outside only long enough to relieve herself and then it was back inside before she could go exploring. She seemed like her normal self but was also pretty groggy. He ate in his room so he could watch her and made sure she took her medication and ate enough. That night, he knew he was supposed to let her sleep in her crate, but the drugs from earlier had worn off enough that she knew exactly where she was and didn’t understand why she wasn’t allowed to sleep in bed with him. She cried until he relented and purred as she snuggled up against him in his comfortable bed.

The next morning was the hardest. She felt an ache at the incision site and it clearly hurt her to move compared to yesterday, despite the pain medication. He tried not to think too hard about it, feeling unsure of when to ask for help and what was normal. She’d had surgery after all, it was impossible for her to feel completely healed in less than a single day. He laid around the house with her, cuddling her close since that seemed to help her stay more comfortable. He was grumpier with his siblings, though. He tried to keep to himself, but once Omega and Wrecker started playing and making a bit of a racket, he took Vaar’ika to the clinic. He wasn’t sure exactly why he was going. He didn’t think it was an emergency, but knew Rayla would be done with her work, barring anything urgent. He sat in the waiting room and talked gently to the little ball of tired fluff laying in his arms. He rhythmically stroked her fur, but didn’t feel her usual happy purr.

“She okay,” Rayla asked, appearing as she finished cleaning up the exam room.

“Not sure,” Crosshair replied.

“Mind if I look?”

Crosshair handed the tooka over to Rayla who carefully turned her over.

“Looks like it’s healing fine. Don’t see any sign of infection. She might just be in a bit more pain than anticipated. I can give her an extra little med patch if you want to try that.”

Crosshair nodded. As Rayla retrieved a patch and cut it down to the right size, she asked, “What else is going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“You have a lot on your mind and you look… gruff.”

He shook his head and let out a breath. “Just worried about her and it’s loud at home.”

“Well, you’re welcome to have some quiet time here. I have some paperwork to do, some blood tests to analyze, and then I’m headed home. You’re welcome to join me if the two of you need a change of pace.”

Crosshair’s eyes warmed and he returned her familiar smile. He sat back down and went back to petting Vaar’ika until she fell asleep. The patch seemed to help her feel better and by extension, he felt better. Rayla worked nearby, looking through her datapad, taking inventory, and updating her notes as she went along. The rest of the day went by without a hitch. It was a good day when there were no major emergencies. She made sure her comm was on, knowing that some days no one needed her until she left for home. She packed up and walked home with Crosshair and Vaar’ika. As they headed down the road, she broke the silence.

“She hasn’t slept in her crate, has she?”

Crosshair grinned almost shyly. “She’s used to sleeping with me. She stays still.”

“As long as she’s still. Don’t want her hurting her incision.”

The evening was perfectly quiet. They ate a simple meal and cleaned up together while Vaar’ika napped in the armchair. Later, they found themselves in bed together for the first time. Crosshair lifted his arm and pulled Rayla to his side. She laid an arm around his waist while Vaar’ika curled up in the crook of his neck. He felt his heartbeat syncing with Rayla’s. She smiled and kissed his cheek before she closed her eyes. They soaked in each other’s warmth and fell asleep.

#crosshair #tbb #the bad batch #tbb fanfiction #the bad batch fanfiction #crosshair x oc #star wars oc #tbb oc #tooka #tbb crosshair #tbb crosshair x oc #tomophobia

99 notes · View notes

wingedjellyfishflight · 4 months

Text

Hogtied: Part 3

You stay busy for another week, finishing up exams and redacting most of König's file for him. Just in time, it seems, as you catch one of your nurses looking through it with a frown. The dressing down she receives is more than enough to deter others, but the cleaning rotation she gets for the next month ensures it won't happen again.

When the C140 lands again, it is complete madness, just as you were worried it would be. König has multiple large lacerations, Ghost has a through and through on the meaty part of his thigh, Gaz has a laceration on his head that won't stop bleeding and Soap, poor Soap. A broken leg, lacerations on his arm, and clear signs of torture.

You triage the men, passing Gaz off for stitches, sending Ghost to a nurse who previously worked in an ER and directing a set of nurses to tag team the lacerations on König, but only what he will allow. Any pushback means stop. You don't want to lose the trust you have built up in the short time he has worked with you. Turning to Soap, you work to stabilize him. Immobilizing his leg, you quickly stitch the worst of his wounds to stop the bleeding. With the help of a few nurses, you get good x-rays. Luckily, it is not a complex break, and you are able to set it with ease. He will need a hard cast once the swelling goes down.

The aftermath of torture is a harder thing to solve. You bandage his hands, slather burns in ointment, and inject an antibiotic. Gaz pulls you aside and tells you that he was also subject to waterboarding for a very short window of time before they rescued him. You nod, angry, but trying not to show it. You turn back and review all of Soap's injuries now that he is more stable, ensuring that you didn't miss anything. There doesn't appear to be anything else wrong with him, and you have him moved to a recovery room.

You make rounds, checking on the others as they rest. When you reach König's room, you note blood on his pillow and check over his chart. "Herzblatt, do you have an injury under your mask?" He turns to look at you.

"Ja, mein Kopf tut weh."

(Yes, my head hurts.)

"Let me grab a kit, and we will get it fixed up then." You do so, shutting the door on your way back to the bed. He slips off his mask, and you gasp, seeing the large cut across his face. "You should have mentioned this."

"I wanted you to fix, Schatz."

"Yes, Herzblatt, but I would have come to fix it sooner. Now hold still. I will have to numb you to stitch it. You may grip my shoulder if you need to." He hesitates, but as he sees you move closer with the needle, he wraps his fingers tight where you indicated. The way he grips it, you know you will have bruises later, but he doesn't flinch away. "Once it is numb, I will stitch inside to bring those layers together, then I will stitch the outside. You will tell me if you feel pain, yes? There is no reason to tough it out."

"Ja, already proved my mettle." You chuckle and lay out your supplies.

"Jetzt haben wir den Salat."

He chokes back a laugh at that. While his body is becoming numb, you check the rest of his lacerations and ensure the stitches look good. Returning to his face, you check to ensure he is ready, then work to stitch him up. It goes quickly, though you have to make a conscious effort not to look in his eyes.

(Now we have the salad, aka shit went sideways, and now we have a mess)

Just as you set down the needle and thread on your table, the door bursts open. Unthinking, you jump forward and use your body to cover König's face. "Unless someone is dying, get out!"

"Sorry, you've been in here a long time, and we were worried. Is everything alright?"

"I said, get the fuck out! You know the rules here, Lieutenant!" The door slams shut and you cautiously pull back, checking to make sure none of the stitches popped. König's face looks red as a tomato as he looks at you. "Let me finish bandaging this and you can put the mask back on, alright?" He stares at you saying nothing. "Uhh... sorry for that. I should have locked the door. And sorry for mashing your face with my... torso." You quickly place the bandages and hand him his mask.

"I'd prefer if you had a clean mask, but I don't have one handy. If you drop one by later, I can keep it on hand for you. Ghost keeps some here, the delicate princess. He refuses to wear hospital grubs if he can't wear the clothes he came in with."

"So, he is not... dating you?"

"Hmm... no. No, he and I are not dating. I'm half sure he is more interested in Soap than me, but I've been wrong before. Any roads, enough talk about our co-workers. Push the button here if you need assistance. I am going off the clock, but I will return if needed. Try to get some rest. I'm sure debriefing will be hell."

When you return the next morning, only Soap remains in recovery. The other men have left to debrief. You schedule an appointment for him with the therapist he doesn't hate and listen to him flirt with a nurse while you update files in your office. He quickly grows bored and insists that you sit and entertain him.

You acquiesce, deciding that a break is in order now that you've finished about half of your paperwork. He is chatting away about things he's done mostly. You usually try to deflect questions about yourself, but he is not deterred, sipping at his coffee while you enjoy your cuppa.

"Didja always wannae be a doc?" You shake your head.

"Got it twisted, mate. I never wanted to be a doctor. T'was my parents dream, not mine. I picked here to spite 'em."

He laughs hard. "You're a rebel. What didja wannae then?"

You stand suddenly, too flustered by his question. "Tea times over, fella. I've gottae get back to work." You pause in the doorway, leaning back in and looking into his eyes as you debate with yourself. "I wanted a job like yours." He looks stunned, then a bit sad.

"Ye woulda been a belter, lass." You smile sadly and walk back to your office. It takes forever for you to get any work done. You make sure to sign off on his release so Soap can leave when he is ready.

You look up at a knock on your door some time later. "Enter"

"Doc, you're still here? I was just checking in here since the light was on. It's already after 2100."

"Oh, shit. I completely lost track of time. Just have to finish this, and I will head out."

"Alright, see you tomorrow then."

It's after 2200 when you do head out, and you quickly realize that you are starving, not having had much more than snacks since breakfast. The mess is closed this late, so you head to the kitchen. Digging through the fridge, you hear a noise behind you, but don't see anything when you look around the darkened room. Shrugging it off, you dig some more before grabbing leftovers with Ghost's name on them. You're disappointed to see that they've gone off and toss them in the bin before looking again.

You finally find some leftovers that aren't bad with Captain Price written in capital letters with an underline on the box. It's butter chicken over rice, and you've honestly never been so excited for it. Waiting for it to heat, you hear the sound again. You turn and realize that there are two men across the room watching you. Through squinted eyes, you see that it is Captain Price and Gaz having tea together. Whipping back around nervously, your fingers tap on the counter, waiting forever, it seems for the microwave to ding.

Just before it does, you hear, "Butter chicken. My favorite," in your ear, and you nearly jump out of your skin.

"S-sorry, Captain. I missed lunch and dinner. I'll order some fresh tomorrow to make up for it. Please."

"I'm just teasin ya, doll. Eat up. You know we never remember to eat our leftovers." He winks and walks off, catching up to Gaz.

#konig x reader #könig x reader #call of duty #ghost cod #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #captain john price

81 notes · View notes

the-jam-to-the-unicorn · 11 months

Text

Some tips and things to remember when faced with flooding

As someone who experienced flooding and knows people who have been affected by flooding ... here are some safety tips, tips in general, and things to remember ...

The water is now your biggest enemy. So try to get as far away as possible.

I know that shit is scary as fuck but try to remain calm. Calm down people around you too.

If, for whatever reason, you no longer can get out of the house - try to get on the roof of your house. Do NOT stay inside the house. You're going to be trapped in your house, and rescue workers will have a hard time reaching you when you're in the house. (BUT!: Only go out if it's the safer option.)

If you have to stay in the house (for whatever reason), lock every door and window. Seal as good as you can every way water could come inside. Turn off electricity immediately. Get on the highest floor and stay near a window or something similar so rescue workers can get you out. Make noise or send other signals to alarm rescue workers to tell them where you are.

If you can't get on your roof, look for something high - trees, laterns, traffic lights, ... .

You're somewhere trapped? You made it to somewhere safe? Make as much noise as possible, so rescue workers hear you. Use a flashlight (night) or something that reflects light (day).

If you get rescued and you know about people who still need help / are trapped somewhere / can't escape for whatever reason - tell the rescue workers as fast as possible.

Try to get out of the water as quickly as possible. If you stay in the water, you risk getting cold (it doesn't matter how warm it is) and exhausting yourself. This can come quickly and without you noticing. This could kill you.

Also, (secret) water currents can occur. They can be powerful and easily drag you along. So get out of that water.

The flood will have all kind of stuff in the water that can trap, crush, hurt, drag you along, pull you under water and / or kill you. SO GET OUT OF THE WATER!

If you get wounded - even if you think it's "just a small thing" - tell the rescue workers and medical people. Especially if we talk about open wounds. Yes, also that "little scratch, it's nothing" - show them, tell them!

Another reason to get out of the water - electricity because of damaged power lines.

Never drink, under any circumstances, the polluted water! Never! Doesn't matter how thirsty you are. Don't drink it!

Your #1 priority is keeping your feet dry and warm. After that - your upper body and arms. After that, the rest.

If you're wet and have no clothes to change into (and there is no chance of getting rescued soon): get out of the wet clothes. If you start to shiver, that's the last sign to immediately get out. Cuddle with other people as close as possible. Wrap blankets or jackets or something similar around you. (No longer wearing the wet clothes!) Anything that traps the body heat and keeps it close to you is good.

If you have to cross water, ALWAYS grab something / hold on to something. Check if it's safely secured somewhere. Do not cross water that's higher than your chest (children, depending on age and height: higher than knees / thighs / waist).

If the flood drags you along, your #1 priority is to keep your head above the water. If you can, scream as loud as possible to attract attention. Try to grab / hold on to something. (If you want to help someone, try to throw them a rope or something. If you get in the water to help them, make sure you're tied at something and safely secured. Talk to them when approaching them and try to calm them down! Someone panicking because they fear to drown every second is a risk for you two. If possible, try to grab them from behind.)

If you're about to get evacuated or you try on your own to get to safety - here is what to pack: multiple dry, warm clothes (especially socks) (don't underestimate how cold you can get if you get wet and how dangerous that is) (keep the layering methode in mind to stay warm); your most important documents; your medication for 3-5 days (7 days, if you have enough space) (also write down your medication, medication plan, your diseases and other important medical information and put it in a ziplock or something similar); bottled water and energy / granola bars (canned food you can eat without cooking and you can open easily works too); electronic devices with power banks; food and water for pets if you take them with you; food and water for babies and toodlers; hygienic essentials for you and babies / toddlers; emergency medication; a sharp knife and sharp scissors (Swiss pocket knife is the best solution), flashlights and batteries; something to make fire (if possible: no matches because they can get wet).

If the flood is already high and, for whatever reason, you couldn't get away immediately - so now you try on your own or wait for rescue workers: Write with an edding pen following things on your arms / legs / torso or other body parts: your full (!) name, your age / birth date (day, month and year), blood type, medical conditions and allergies the rescue workers need to know, emergency phone numbers (who should they call if something happens to you / they find you), who's with you (if you you're not alone).

Have emergency medication / medical equipment near you (ibuprofen or paracetamol for wounds, and if you get a fever; things against vomiting and diarrhoea; plasters and bandages; something for disinfection).

If the flood is "over" / no longer rising - it's NOT safe! Shit can still going on under the water surface. Stay away.

If you return to your previous flooded house, stay away from the remaining water! Especially cellars can quickly become a death trap. Also, electricity could be in water and would kill you.

#ukraine #war #russia #never thought i have to make such a post...

168 notes · View notes

edosianorchids901 · 2 months

Text

Not Too Late

@flashfictionfridayofficial prompt - "hour of denial"

London, 1664

Aziraphale shifted restlessly, glancing out the window of the coffeehouse. He’d hoped to see Crowley sauntering down the wooden walkway. They were supposed to be meeting here, to discuss and swap their latest assignments.

Was he late? No, perhaps Aziraphale was simply remembered the wrong time. Or misread it in the letter. Crowley’s handwriting was awful, after all.

That must be it. No doubt everything was perfectly fine.

Aziraphale read the newspapers for a bit as he waited. He drank another cup of coffee. He gazed thoughtfully out the window, watching the bustle of London.

Crowley still didn’t arrive.

Swallowing hard, Aziraphale fumbled with the newspapers again. Everything was fine. It hasn’t even been an hour yet. There was no cause for concern.

An hour passed. Crowley did not arrive.

Over the millennia, Aziraphale had cultivated a skill for denial. Sometimes, he was utterly unaware of said denial until someone—usually Crowley—pointed it out. Other times, he was aware, and hid behind it like a shield.

This time, he was aware. But if Crowley might be in danger, an hour of denial was the most than Aziraphale could indulge himself.

He rushed out into the damp, chilly day, and hesitated. Crowley could be anywhere. Causing traffic problems, mingling at the Royal Exchange, dying on the bank of the Thames…

Aziraphale shook off the maudlin thought. He set off for the bookshop he managed first, just in case there had been a miscommunication about where to meet. Then he checked St. James’s Park, which had opened to the public a few decades ago. Perhaps Crowley was feeding the ducks.

Crowley was not feeding the ducks. There was no sign of him.

Perhaps Crowley’s rented rooms? Chest increasingly tight, Aziraphale rushed through London’s crowded streets.

His hand shook as he knocked on the door. “Crowley? Crowley, are you here?”

Nothing. And drying blood smeared on the door.

Aziraphale unlocked it via miracle, charged inside, and immediately tripped over a black-clad huddle on the floor.

The huddle moaned, and Aziraphale dropped to his knees with a gasp. He smoothed red hair out of Crowley’s face, trying to catch his gaze. “Crowley? Crowley, what’s happened?”

“Nnnhmg.” Crowley’s muscles trembled under Aziraphale’s hands, his breaths ragged. “Got… got into trouble. Smuggling job went…”

He drew another rattling breath and lapsed into silence. His skin was ashen, cold, clammy. Was he going into shock?

And oh Lord, what would have happened if Aziraphale had simply kept waiting in the coffeehouse?

Wrenched with guilt, Aziraphale slid a hand under his head and eased him onto his back. Crowley jerked and gave a weak cry, glazed eyes wandering. “N-nuh…”

“Easy, it’s just me.” Aziraphale pushed layers of black fabric out of the way until he found a spreading wet patch on Crowley’s side, fabric blood soaked. “Oh dear. What did this to you?”

Another rattling breath. “Shot. Got shot.”

Alarmed, Aziraphale hovered his hand over the wound, focusing on it, studying it. “Oh, oh. The bullet’s still in your belly. I-I’ll need to get it out before I can heal this.”

He had no idea how to do that. But he and Crowley had pulled arrows out of each other plenty of time. This could hardly be worse.

It was worse, mainly because he couldn’t find the bullet at first. His head spun as he dug around in the wound, as Crowley cried out and jerked, as the blood gushed across his fingers.

“Got it!” Aziraphale finally gasped, tears blurring his vision as he pulled out the little metal ball. “Oh, Crowley, I’m sorry that took so long.”

Crowley collapsed into low, broken sobs, tears rolling down his ashen cheeks. His hands twitched and twisted, clawing at the wooden floor. “Hurts, it hurts…”

“I-I’m so sorry. Just hold on a moment longer.” Aziraphale took a few deep breaths, trying to calm himself. He rested one hand across Crowley’s, and hovered the other across the wound. “That’s it, no torn flesh, no injury, no bullet hole…”

He channeled a careful healing miracle, heart pounding. Crowley had lost so much blood, and was hardly breathing now. Would this be enough to save him?

“There, my dear. That ought to be better.” Trembling, Aziraphale hastily wiped his bloody hands off on his breeches, then cupped Crowley’s cheek. “Crowley? Are you with me?”

Crowley didn’t answer. His eyes had closed, and he didn’t respond when Aziraphale squeezed his hand. He was still breathing, just barely.

Sniffling, Aziraphale scooped Crowley’s limp body off the ground and carried him to the rather excessively large bed. He laid Crowley down, miracled a bowl of water and cloths, then wiped away the blood on his side.

“We’ll get you some nice clean clothes when you wake up, hmm?” It likely wasn’t doing much good to talk right now, but Aziraphale couldn’t help himself. “And perhaps a drink. Would you like a drink? Silly question, really, you always want a drink.”

He babbled as he fussed over Crowley, unable to stop his hands and voice from shaking. Crowley was always so very animated, so alive. Seeing him so still stirred a horror that Aziraphale had rarely felt.

Was he in denial again now? Had he been too late? Was Crowley slipping away?

“And-and-and perhaps we could go to the theatre. It’s nice having them reopened, isn’t it?” Desperate, Aziraphale clutched Crowley’s limp hand. “Crowley? My dear? Wouldn’t it be nice to go to the theatre?”

One golden eye cracked open, glaring at him. “Be nicer if I could get some damn rest.”

“Oh!” Aziraphale squeezed Crowley’s hand, tears of relief rising. “Of course, Crowley. You rest, now.”

He lapsed into silence, holding Crowley’s hand as the poor dear dozed. It looked as if he hadn’t been too late after all. And now, there would be plenty of time for chatting, or going to the theatre, or anything they liked.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale

35 notes · View notes

tw1l1te · 1 year

Text

Whispers From the Sky: Chapter 9

A/N: hahha this is SO on time. Anyways, this will probably be on of the last chapters set in Wild’s Hyrule for a bit, so we’ll be having a new setting soon!! So excited for the other Hyrule’s hehehehe.

Everyone could tell something was off.

While walking back up to the surface of the temple, you hadn’t said a single word or even made a sound. Your head was clearly on a different plane, eyes cloudy with overthinking.

Twilight had wrapped your scabbed arm in gauze, both for medical reasons and mental reasons, so you wouldn’t constantly be reminded of the traumatic experiences you had went through.

It didn’t help much, but it’s the thought that counts.

Your mind kept running through what was said, what the number on your hand meant, Hylia, the shadow… the list went on and on.

It wasn’t until someone placed a warm hand on your shoulder that you noticed your cheeks were wet.

You had been crying.

You looked up and saw Time, face stern as usual but his eyes said otherwise.

Your voice cracked, speaking for the first time in hours.

“It’s all my fault. It’s all my fault!!” you whispered, breaking down in sobs, whimpering quietly.

Time firmly grasped both of your shoulders, forcing you to look up at him again.

“Stop thinking that this instant. You had no control over what had just happened, whether you believe it or not. The shadow placed that burden on you, which you never deserved. Whatever happens, no one is going to get hurt, especially you,” he murmured, softly gripping your shoulder.

Sometime during his talking, Wild and Wind had come over and placed a hand over each of your forearms, silently comforting you.

Although Time didn’t trust you much, he didn’t want another person to be burdened by a fate that they never asked for. He knew how much this thinking can make a person spiral into their darkest parts.

You sniffled, nodding slightly and looked down at your hands, mumbling that you’ll try your best.

And with that, the nine heroes and yourself continued walking through dark passageways, Time being a few feet closer to you than before.

You squinted as you finally reached above ground, the first sun rays of the day shining brightly.

Everyone took a moment to check that they had their belongings, making sure they didn’t lose anything down below.

You took this moment to look down at your hand, blood faintly seeping through the layers of gauze, meaning you would have to change it in a few hours.

“We’ve spent more time than I would have liked under the temple, but that is of no matter now. Assuming we’re still on the same route, we should make our way towards the Shrine of Resurrection, as it may have a lead on our shadow or… your predicament,” Time stated, everyone looking at you towards the end of his sentence.

Wordlessly, everyone started walking towards the shrine, which wasn’t terribly far.

Warriors and Hyrule slowed down a bit, walking in step with you.

“How are you feeling Y/n? I hope that wound isn’t hurting too much. If needed, we have red potions and fairies if it starts to get infected-”

“It’s not going to get infected, Warriors! Stop scaring Y/n more, it’s the last thing she needs right now!” Hyrule scolded, grasping your unwounded arm lightly.

Warriors sent you an apologetic look and went back to looking through his belongings.

Wind and Four approached you.

“I know this won’t help much, but what happened down there wasn’t your fault at all. You couldn’t control what happened or could have even known what would happen to us. Plus, none of us are too badly hurt, we’re all ok!” Wind rambled, giving you a toothy smile.

Your lips twitched upwards into a small smile, grateful for their words of affirmation, yet not believing them entirely.

While Wind and Four continued talking to you, you looked around at the scenery.

The sun was beginning to rise, making the sky brighten by the minute. Your eyesight then caught the shrine of resurrection, a small light seemingly flashing from the interior.

Standing up abruptly, you caught some by surprise, protesting that you should take it slow.

You walk up to Time, Wild, and Warriors, a new determination running through your blood.

“I have a feeling we need to go to the Shrine of Resurrection. I saw something- no, felt something,” you stated, eyes moving between the three men.

Before the other two could voice anything, Wild nodded, tightening his belts and harnesses, already making his way out the temple with you.

“Cub, hold on!” Twilight yelped out, jogging to meetup with the both of you.

“You need at least two people to go with you, just in case something happens so one of us could protect you while the other goes for help… in an emergency.” Twilight said, smiling slightly. Nodding at him, all three of you made your way out of the temple towards the Shrine of Resurrection.

“Why won’t you talk to them, Legend? They seem really nice and funny!” Four asked him, fidgeting with his belt harness that seemed to get tangled up while under the temple.

Legend sighed.

“Are you seriously asking me that? After what the fuck just happened under this-this temple? Yeah, the goddess statue may have reacted to her somehow, but that could’ve been magic tricks! A potion of some sort! Or maybe something to do with their “device”!” he rambled, animatedly waving his hands.

Four rolled his eyes dramatically.

“I think we both know that those weren’t magic tricks. I think you’re just upset that you can’t figure them out as quickly as you thought you could.”

Four patted his friend’s shoulder and went back to fidgeting with his belt.

Legend blankly stared at the ceiling.

He had so many questions, and none he had answers to.

Why were you here?

Why did you cause the statue to react?

Who even were you and what fate were you going to bring with you?

Legend didn’t know what to think, but he hoped everyone was right about you.

“It’s just up this way,” Wild hummed, pointing you up the hill.

Twilight was just behind both of you and you could feel his eyes on you.

Turning around, you looked at him raising an eyebrow as a question. He just pressed his lips together in a tight line, cracking his knuckles.

Something flashed across his eyes, but you blamed it on the sun.

Turning back around, you halt in walking, staring at the entrance to the shrine.

You remembered this moment in the game, running out of the shrine and beginning the massive adventure in front of you. You remember the awe and excitement you felt, but now you just felt dread.

You walk into the shrine.

It looked the same as it did when you left it. Boxes and chests scattered. The blue glow. The misty air.

You come up to the shrine bed, placing your hands on the cool surface.

You felt a magnetic pull from the platform. Pulling you toward it. Almost as if… it had a conscience.

It wanted you to get in.

You back up slightly and start removing your clothes.

“What are you- are you getting in?! You’ll fall asleep! What if you don’t wake up!-” Wild rambled pulling your arm back, Twilight stepping in and firmly pulling you back.

“It’s telling me to.” you whisper, almost fearing they hear you.

Their grasps loosen, wordlessly letting you continue.

Out of courtesy, Wild and Twilight try not to look at you in your undergarments, but they “accidentally” sneak a few glances.

Tossing your clothes to the side, you climb in, shivering at the cool water.

You look up, staring at the blue symbols, a strange feeling creeping up on you.

Your eyes snap shut.

#linked universe x reader #link x reader #linked universe au #yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe au #linked universe

94 notes · View notes

ink-flavored · 1 year

Text

Clean (Crossover Fic)

Happy Dragon Age Day! Me and @sigridhawke have been feverishly discussing plans for a Dragon Age: Origins/Yu-Gi-Oh! crossover and we thought there was no better day to start sharing it than today. Below is a little snippet of what I’ve written, and you can check out their post below for the companion art!

If you don’t know anything about Dragon Age and would like to have context for the established lore of the setting without playing 3 games’ worth of content, we’ve also compiled a lore document (also below) that has a quick summary of everything relevant to the crossover.

And, of course, enjoy the story!

[Lore] [Companion Art]

◉

At last, Yugi finds a river. He collapses on the bank, wheezing, and tosses his pack, staff, and blade aside. Feverishly, he strips off his robes and armor. Blood coats his forearms, dripping down his wrists and splattering the grass and dirt with scarlet. Dark spots float in his vision, he feels hot and cold at the same time. And through it all, a persistent presence looms in the back of his mind.

He doesn’t have time to worry about it. He needs to clean the blood off his… everywhere. When he has enough of his robes off to free his arms, he shoves them into the river.

“H-Holy Maker,” he gasps, freezing water flooding his wounds. The cold burns as sharp as his knife, and he grits his teeth against the urge to yank his hands back.

Panting, shaking, vision still spotting, the blood rinses free of his arms. The river runs red from it, icy, clear water streaking with crimson. After a few minutes of soaking, the wounds become thin red lines, threatening to bleed fresh. Yugi takes his trembling hands out of the water and messily wraps them in the thin cloth bandages he managed to steal.

Before he can start second-guessing himself, he shakes his head free of his thoughts. It’s too late. If he goes back to the Circle, they’ll kill him. If he doesn’t steal, he’ll die. He’ll never see his family unless he gets his hands dirty. Literally and figuratively.

He looks down at his body, the rest of his clothes. Blood splatters the front of his heavy robes, and some soaked to the under-layers. Resigned, he strips the rest of his robes off, down to his undergarments. Wandering around Ferelden in bloody clothes as an apostate would not end well.

Yugi cleans his robes, constantly checking over his shoulder to make sure he isn’t followed out here. Or found by a stranger who happens to wander by. He can’t risk being seen. By anyone.

Part of him wishes he escaped with Jowan after all. Brandished his maleficar status without reservation, showing off how much he’d do to escape the prison they call the Circle. But he didn’t. He did this instead, and now he has to find his way on his own.

Well. Not entirely on his own.

Possession feels strange. Atem doesn’t say a word to him, doesn’t communicate at all as far as he can tell, but Yugi can sense him. Like someone standing too close, leaning over his shoulder. Or breathing down his neck.

Yugi swallows hard and focuses intently on washing his clothes. If he can sense Atem, it isn’t a stretch to imagine Atem might be able to hear his thoughts. He doesn’t need his demonic escape plan to get annoyed with him already.

When his robes are unstained, Yugi drapes them out on the grass to dry. Having nothing better to do than wait, he strips the rest of his clothes off. Maybe a bath will help the rest of him feel less… unclean.

He inches into the chilly river. It shocks his body again, but he braces himself and sinks the rest of the way in, spreading his arms out wide to keep his bandages dry. The water reaches up to his chest when he sits against the riverbank, taking deep breath after deep breath against the cold current.

A measly few minutes pass. The exhaustion catches up with him. Yugi tips his head back onto the grass, softer than any pillow he can remember. The water is cool but the afternoon sun is warm, shimmery golden rays kissing his cheeks and shoulders. Against his better judgment, his eyelids droop and he starts to doze.

At first, all he sees is the back of his eyelids, a relaxing gray bliss. The river current laps against his body and sloshes against the rocks, keeping him just awake enough to feel it. A bigger impact stirs the water. He doesn’t care enough to see what it is, loathe to move his aching limbs.

“Be careful, little mage,” whispers a sultry voice. It takes Yugi a long few seconds to realize it’s Atem. His voice sounds loud, loud enough to be heard over the river.

A pair of warm hands press against Yugi’s chest. His heart jumps, he tries to move, but he can’t. His body weighs heavy with sleep. The hands wander over his shoulders and the water sloshes again. Kness press on either side of his hips and a body appears with them, hovering over his lap. Yugi feels his pulse in his ears.

Atem laughs darkly, presence stronger than ever. “You know what happens when you let your mind wander.”

Yugi forces his eyes open and wakes with a start.

The river is empty. There’s no one around.

#yugioh #dragon age day #dragon age #yugioh dm #dragon age origins #puzzleshipping #blindshipping #da:o #da: origins #fan fiction #original fic #annika talks #DA/YGO #Crossover #thats housekeeping for me

30 notes · View notes

headcanons-n-shit · 2 years

Note

Ff14 guys ((bonus magnai <3)) reacting to seeing the WoL without their armor for the first time (just casually dressed) and finding out they are, in fact, THICC’er than a bowl of oatmeal. Like the Merriam Webster definition of DUMMY THICC. And no one would suspect otherwise given that their form is usually covered at all times~

>:3c

Thancred

He knew. Of course he knew? How often has he stood a little too close, hand on your hip, mouth curling in a smile near your ear as he whispers his observations? Body pressed against yours to make eyes flick away as he tells you all about the plot brewing right under the floorboards?

But it still takes him by surprise. A proper infiltration mission, a high-class party where you can’t get away with wearing your usual armor or baggy clothes, and Thancred isn’t privy to whatever the weavers whipped up for you, only that it will match his outfit splendidly, so he is caught entirely off-guard when you walk through the doors wearing attire that clings to your every curve, flaring out at the hips to make your waist seem even tinier, sharp in the shoulders to make you seem even broader across the chest...

Thancred pulls himself together admirably quickly, but you’re going to be haunting his dreams for a long time.

Urianger

It’s not intentional that he sees you like this. But you’d been ripped open like a sack of meat, your clothes beyond saving even before he and Krile had been forced to cut them off your body to see to your wounds. He hadn’t been paying attention then, far more concerned with saving your life, with ensuring the dark future without you would never come to pass.

Now that you sleep peacefully, though, as healed as you can be, covered by only a blanket in a private room, he can’t help the way his eyes linger. He is no stranger to hiding his own form beneath clothing himself, but you... you are... breathtaking, you are beautiful, your body is a sculpture, a piece of art, and though he will never shame you he will always wonder why you feel the need to hide yourself so.

He brushes a bit of hair out of your face and leaves you sleeping with a kiss on your forehead. Questions can be saved for when you wake.

G’raha

He doesn’t mean to, he swears. He’s just going through and checking in one everyone at the end of the day, making sure everyone is safe and getting rest, how was he supposed to know you were getting ready to take a bath?!

He should look away. Dismiss the image now that he knows that you are safe and hale. It’s just that, well.... You certainly look healthy. Skin all aglow in the steam and the warm light. The soft give atop your muscles. His eyes trace the curves of your body, the slopes of your shoulders, the curve of your spine, the dimples just above your--

Someone knocks on the door and he dismisses the image quickly, but the memory... He has some difficulty meeting your eyes in the morning, though he will never, ever, in a century, admit why.

Estinien

He has only really known you in the cold clime of Ishgard, bundled up under layers and layers of coats and scarves to keep you warm. Which has always been. Appropriate. And a little cute, though Estinien would never admit it.

But Aymeric has offered you a moment’s respite in House Borel, and you jumped on the opportunity eagerly. And Aymeric is a good host, of course, offering you a selection of new clothing to lounge in while you rest and recover for the coming battles, and Estinien is cursing his old friend in his head.

You have the body of a warrior, that is for certain. There is strength in your thighs, of course, and in your shoulders. The swells of your biceps. The shape of your calves. Those clothes definitely don’t fit you properly-- Estinien is pretty sure that one of those shirts used to be his-- but you fill them out admirably and he. He just needs a minute. Please just give him a minute to get past the urge to smother himself in your thighs.

Aymeric

He knew that letting you have access to some of Estinien’s old clothes would be a good idea. The best idea, even. Big and loose enough for you to still be comfortable, considering your usual dress, but not so. uncomfortable. As your usual armor and furs. And you deserve to be comfortable. You deserve to rest and recover and take joy in these little moments between battles.

What wasn’t planned was the way it backfires on him: seeing you, lounging on a rug in front of the fireplace, bantering cheerfully with Estinien. It brings him to a pause in the doorway, his eyes lingering on the thick of your thighs, the shape of your posterior, the swell of your chest. The way your cheeks scrunch up while you grin and laugh.

You might believe his excuse about why his own cheeks are so flush, but Estinien has a knowing twinkle in his eyes.

Haurchefant

The blizzard hit fast and hard, and you were lucky, really, to be so close to Camp Dragonhead that you were hard-pressed to get lost even as visibility dropped to nothing. It’s late, and everyone is mostly asleep or sheltering from the storm, so Haurchefant doesn’t even hesitate to sit you in front of the fire and tell you to get out of those frozen, snow-caked clothes while he digs up something dry to wear and warm to drink.

The sight of you almost makes him drop the hot chocolate. He knows he’s always been attracted a heart of gold, and to strength, and you. He knows you are good and noble. He just didn’t expect you to have such physical strength in spades. Fury save him, you look like you could throw him a dozen yalms without trying.

His cheeks are red from the cold, he tells himself. Not because he’s thinking about you lifting him like a couple of grapes.

Sidurgu

It didn’t even occur to him to wander about your choice of clothing until... well, until it occurred to him.

You’re all in House Fortemps, a blizzard raging through the streets outside, and he doesn’t know how you convinced Count Edmont to house an Au’ra massacre survivor and a child enemy of the Holy See, even for just a night, but he’s thankful. For Rielle, if nothing else. But you insisted it wasn’t a problem, he and Rielle are your family, and so is Edmont, anyone who minds can suck on a rock, even as you sit the two in front of a fire and go to change and bring them dry clothes.

Usually he sees you in armor appropriate for a Dark Knight, or thick heavy robes. Not a loose shirt and thin, tight hose. The shirt is so worn-out it nearly falls off your broad shoulders. The hose stretches so thin over the swell of your thighs that he almost imagines he can see the play of muscles beneath. It takes a LONG moment for his brain to restart-- Rielle has to thank you for him, and then laughs at him the moment you are out of sight again.

BONUS

Magnai

He just happens to have to come down from the Dawn Throne after Baatu sends you to harvest swordgrass, and he arrives at the base of the steps just in time to see you pull yourself from the water. Nude as the day you were born, save those thin shorts that do little to preserve your modesty, water sliding over your skin, your svelte muscle, your curves. He knew, intellectually, that you must be strong, you must be a warrior, you never would have survived the trials if you weren’t.

But he is built like a warrior. You are built like... like... like N’haama. Like a goddess, regardless of your gender, you have childbearing hips for fucks sake!

He turns around quickly, picks another route to give you your privacy, but the sight of you is burned in his mind now for the rest of time.

257 notes · View notes

officialcharactersimp · 3 years

Text

'Tis But A Flesh Wound

Summary: reader comes back from a mission and they’re hurt so bucky helps them to clean up their injuries, and then they just like stare at each other, confess their feelings or sum, and then they fuck 😎, [also reader gets real sleepy and Bucky thought they were only into girls]. thanks to @h1ghtodeath for your help in brainstorming! A/N: I said I'd post today and it's (checks time) 11:55, so I've got 5 minutes to spare! Also this is what happens when I write when I'm sleepy! Reader is sleepy! WC: 2.1k of fluffy smex

CW: NSFW!! 18+!!; soft smut; mention of injury; you could argue slight somno if you really really wanted to?; k that's it.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” Bucky says, one hand around you as he helps you into your bathroom.

“It’s fine, Bucky, really,” you say, trying to get him to let you walk on your own to no avail. He shakes his head.

“You look like shit, y/n,” he says bluntly with a hint of a smile.

“Thanks,” you reply with your own hint of a smile. He (in all his super-solider glory) picks you up and sets you on the counter, opening one of the cabinets after.

“Where do you keep your medical supplies?” he asks, closing that one and opening another cabinet.

“Bucky, I can take care of it myself,” you tell him, moving to get up and get them yourself.

“Nah-ah-ah, y/n, keep your cute little butt on the counter and tell me where they are,” he says firmly. You feel heat rising in your face and sit back down.

“In the bottom left one, middle shelf,” you sigh, feeling like a stupid middle-schooler for your blush. That’s just how Bucky is, he’s not flirting with you. Well, at least, he’s not flirting with you any more than he does every single human on the planet. It’s just Bucky. You shake your head, trying to stop blushing by the time he turns back to you. You must succeed, because he shows no sign of a reaction to it. He sets the supplies on the counter next to you, grabs a stool, and takes a seat in front of you.

“Alright, now, le’me see that leg,” he says. You put your leg up for him to see, and after a moment he wets a washcloth with water. You wince a little while he cleans it of dirt and debris, but when it comes to the alcohol, you flat-out hiss at the pain. He gives an apologetic but amused grin at the sound, hesitating for a moment but knowing it will be better for everyone if he just gets it over with. He packs it with ointment, covers it, and wraps your leg firmly, then looks up at you.

“How’s that feel?” he asks. You nod.

“It feels good. Thanks,” you say. He smiles and stands, not thinking about how his seating arrangement means when he stands, it’s between your legs and uncomfortably close. You look at him, finding him staring straight back.

“Sometimes I really wish you were into guys,” he sighs, then starts to back up.

“Wait, what? You think I don’t like guys?” you grab his arm, keeping him in place to make sure you get your answer.

“I mean, with your ogling over Natasha all the time, I just thought…” he reached up and scratched the back of his neck with the arm you weren’t holding onto.

“Everyone ogles over Natasha,” you point out. “Including you.” He smiles a bit at that. “But, wait, why do you wish I was into guy—oh,” oh, you halt yourself at the realization. “You couldn’t mean that you—” you turn red.

“That’s exactly what I mean, sweetheart,” he says, his cheeks turning a little red. You feel yourself heating up and hope he can’t notice. “But don’t worry, y/n, I know we’re just friends and all,” he says, and you shake your head, sliding your hand down his arm to intertwine your fingers with his own, smiling a little shakily.

“We don’t have to just be friends,” you say quietly with a squeeze.

“We don’t?”

“Nope,” you pop the P as you speak. “I like you, too. I just never thought you would like someone like me,” you shrug.

“Don’t say that,” he says, picking up your chin with his free hand. “You’re amazing just how you are. I promise,” he says, leaning in for a soft, gentle, timid kiss. After the momentary surprise wears off, you kiss him right back, closing your eyes and leaning into him. You squeeze each other’s hands tightly as his other arm finds its way to the small of your back. You bring yours up to rest on his chest as you both deepen the kiss. Soon both of you are using both hands to explore, still gentle and slow, neither of you going further than the other, kissing and touching and breathing against each other. It’s only when he starts to get hard that he pulls back with an apologetic grin.

“Bucky—“

“Don’t worry, y/n, I know you just got back from a mission. You’re exhausted. Not that I would expect for you to—“

“We’ll just take it easy then, huh?” you ask, pulling him back to you.

“Hey, hold on. You sure you want this?” he asks, his eyes searching yours methodically. You nod.

“Yes, Bucky, I do, please,” you grab onto his shirt tightly. He grins.

“Well, I can’t argue with that, sweetheart. But we’ll take it nice and slow,” he says, hands finding their way under you to lift you into his arms and take you to your bed. He sits down, you straddling his lap, and kisses you. You bury your face in his chest and begin rocking your hips against his crotch gently. It’s been awhile since you’ve been with another person, and this is already much better than humping your pillow (which never really gets you off anyways). You let out a soft, breathy moan into him and his hands come up to your waist, gently guiding your movements.

“Bucky…” you say gently.

“Yes, sweetheart?” he says, and you tug at the hem of his shirt. “Oh, I get it,” he says. “Want more now?” you nod and lean back to allow him to take off his shirt. You take the opportunity to get yours off as well, and while you’re admiring his chest and abs, he manages to get both of your pants off. Now you’re straddling him still, but the only thing between your dripping core and his very hard member is two thin layers of cotton. You feel yourself heating up again and look away. Once more, he tilts your chin up to look at him.

“None of that, love,” he says, kissing you gently. “Just keep doing what you were doing.” His hands find their way down to their hips and help you find your rhythm again. “That’s it,” he praises gently, groaning. Both of you are starting to breathe harder now, and the fabric between you is soaked through. Still, however thin and useless the barrier, it represents something. You keep grinding down on him, his grip on you growing tighter, both your sounds building, until finally he pulls back a bit and looks at you.

“You’re sure?” you ask one last time.

“Yes. You?”

“Yes,” you nod. Slowly, you both lift up and remove your underthings. You sit back onto his thighs a bit, looking down between you.

“Too big?” he smirks.

“Don’t think so,” you shake your head. “But it is big. And it’s been awhile since…” you trail off. He nods.

“Me too. Don’t worry. I’ve got you,” he says. “Just tell me if you wanna stop or need something, okay?” he kisses your forehead and you nod in agreement. Slowly, he grips your hips again and guides you to hover just above him, then uses one hand to rub his tip against you. You flat-out whine at the sinsation ((an actual typo I made and then left in)), earning a chuckle. “You like that sweetheart?” he asks. You nod. “You ready to feel me filling you up?” he says in a low voice that makes you shiver. After another nod, he begins guiding you down, filling you slowly until you’re settled back down on his lap. Both of you sigh deeply in relief. “I hope you feel as good as I do, sweetheart, cuz holy fuck,” he whispers.

“You can say that again,” you agree with a breath of laughter. “Wanna move,” you say, squirming a little.

“Alright, darlin’, go ahead,” he says sweetly, and you begin to rock your hips again. His low, sinful groans fill your ears and only encourage you. He uses his hands on your hips to start to move you a little more up and down with your rocking motion, and oh god, it feels good. You let out a little whimper. “You’re a quiet one, huh?” he asks, no malice in his voice.

“Helps me focus on how good it feels,” you confirm his suspicion.

“Alright with me, darlin’,” he says. “Just makes every sound you make mean more,” he smirks. You laugh a little and nod.

Bucky, on the other hand, is far from quiet, but it’s not at all like some of the over-zealous, obviously fake sounds you’ve heard in porn or through walls. It’s genuine, low, husky grunts and moans that only serve to turn you on more. His vocalness is to him as your quietness is to you, and you revel in it, drinking every sound he makes.

He can tell that, even if you’re not a moaner, your breath says it all. And this close to you, with his forehead pressed to yours, he can hear the tiny little sounds that barely make it out of your throat when he does something right—the way your breath hitches and your gasps rub your vocal chords, the way you sigh, the way you whimper so softly he’s not always sure he heard it—he revels in it, drinking in every sound you make.

He can tell the mission and the exhaustion is catching up to you when your movements begin to slow and your head leans down onto his shoulder. He smiles, enamored, and leans to whisper into your ear.

“Wanna stop and go to sleep, sweetheart?”

“No,” you murmur. “Feels good. ‘M just tired,” you tell him.

“Want me to take over?” he offers, and you nod against him. He feels you giving him more control, not quite going limp, but not really focusing on your movements either. His grip becomes firmer as he begins to both move you and thrust up into you gently, letting out a groan that rumbles in his chest and reverberates in yours. “So good for me, honey, so good,” he says, and you hum a little at his praise.

Eventually, he leans back against the headboard so he can pull you up a little while letting you lean on him. Now, he’s able to thrust up into you better, and the weight shift means he can hold your hip with one hand and use the other to slide between your bodies and play with the sensitive bundle of nerves just above where your bodies are connected. He smiles when he hears the way you gasp, then whimper just a bit.

“Where do you want me to come, sweetheart?” he asks you.

“Inside…” you murmur. “I’m on the pill.”

“Aww, you wanna feel my nice warm load fill you up?” he coos. You nod.

“Yes, Bucky, please,” you say against his shoulder.

“Alright. I can do that for you, darlin’. You close?”

“Mhmmm,” you hum.

“Good. Wanna make you come first,” he says, angling his hips to hit inside you just right and rubbing your bundle of nerves just so. It’s not long before you’re tumbling over the edge, hips bucking as you squeeze your hands on his shoulders. You whine high in your throat when the wave first washes over you, then dissolve into gasps and sighs as you ride it out. Bucky lets himself go as soon as he knows you’re coming, holding onto you tight and burying himself all the way in you as he groans loudly, burying his face in your neck. The two of you ride out your ecstasy together, holding tight and breathing in every moment, and when you’re finally done, Bucky lifts you off of himself and carries you to the bathroom.

“Wanna go to sleep,” you complain.

“I know. But you gotta pee and let me clean you up, y/n. You’re in bad enough shape already without getting an infection,” he says, kissing your forehead and then setting you down on the toilet. Begrudgingly, you comply, going to the bathroom and then letting him clean your thighs and core with a washcloth. “See? That wasn’t so bad, huh?” he says, scooping you up once again and taking you back to bed.

“Actually, it was probably the worst thing ever,” you joked sleepily.

“Me making you take a piss is worse than your leg wound?” he asks.

“Yes, infinitely so,” you mutter, pressing yourself into his chest once he has you both under the covers.

“Go to sleep, sweetheart,” he says with a chuckle. “You can hate me for it in the morning.”

“Could never hate you,” you say.

“And I could never hate you either,” he says.

506 notes · View notes

drafthorsemath · 2 months

Text

Tooka Dad (Retcon'd with Batcher)

Crosshair x Veterinarian OC Rayla

Word Count: 6.606k

A/N: This came to my brain and now it’s words. I don’t know what else to say about it. No description of Rayla’s appearance outside of her being fem and using she/her pronouns. I'm reposting because I love Batcher and now she's included in the story. Season 3 Episode 5 really pushed me over the edge. Batcher loves Crosshair so much. Thank you to @eclec-tech and @lightwise for the encouragement.

It had been months since Crosshair had rejoined his siblings and they found themselves on Pabu. The adjustment had been difficult. It was still difficult. There were many things he wouldn’t speak about. His brothers gave him some space, not pushing too much, but making sure he knew he wasn’t alone. He, Omega, and Tech had spent time together healing physically after all that had happened, as well as healing whatever mental wounds they could. Those were taking the most time, especially for Crosshair.

He didn’t want to leave the house today, but Wrecker insisted (in his own Wrecker way) that he come to the docks and help move some cargo. Crosshair rolled his eyes but got to his feet and followed his brother down to the ocean with Batcher trotting beside him. They spent the morning moving crates from boats on to the docks, but as the sun continued to beam down on them, Crosshair’s eyes started to ache from the light.

“I got it from here,” Wrecker said, knowing his brother’s sensitivity. Crosshair simply nodded his thanks and headed toward some shade where Batcher napped. Before he could sit down, he saw something small scamper away from behind one of the crates Wrecker picked up. He followed the movements and knelt down, looking under a bench that sat under a tree.

“What is it,” Wrecker asked.

A tiny gray tooka kitten peered at them through crusty eyes. Crosshair wasn’t entirely sure how the little creature could see.

“Tooka,” Crosshair answered. Wrecker knelt down further and smiled at the scared kitten.

“Just wait,” the Crosshair advised. His brother sighed but nodded and got back to work. Instead of sitting on the bench, Crosshair sat on the ground next to it. The next two hours were spent waiting for the animal to come out. He wasn’t going to force anything. Wrecker checked in after he was done with the crates. Although the tooka hadn’t moved, he knew that if anyone had the patience to wait it out and earn its trust, it was Crosshair. Wrecker went home, grabbed some lunch, and brought it back. He silently held out some homemade bread and fruit to his brother and sat next to him as they silently ate with Batcher quietly snoring in the background. The tooka let out a little squeak and Wrecker saw just the smallest tug of a smile on his Crosshair’s face. Eventually Wrecker decided to head home and help Tech with moving some big equipment.

As the time passed, Crosshair thought of his time away from his siblings. How much doubt and fear were in his heart despite deciding to stay on the platform on Kamino. Of the ongoing pain he had each time his chip was enhanced. The absolute horror in his soul when his actions felt like they were someone else’s, but he knew his hands pulled the trigger. He had never wanted to lose control and yet the Empire had him in its grasp and his mind wasn’t fully his own. He’d been so conditioned and the chip only added another layer of complexity. He closed his eyes and sighed as he pressed his hands flat on the ground beneath him in an attempt to center himself in the here and now. Batcher had woken up and sat next to him. He put a hand on the hound and breathed deeply while still keeping his eyes closed. He wasn’t alone anymore. Just as he had this thought, he felt some tiny fluff brush against his hand. He opened his eyes to find the kitten sitting next to his fingertips. He gently picked up the creature and stood. The tooka didn’t make a sound and didn’t fight as Crosshair walked them back to Upper Pabu. He was fairly certain the lack of fight was only because the animal was fur and bones.

“Tech,” was all he said upon finding his brother working on the Marauder. Tech stood, adjusting his goggles, and raised his eyebrows.

“A tooka,” he replied, “and in a sorry state.”

Crosshair hummed in agreement. Tech knew this was his brother’s way of asking for help. He pulled out his datapad and examined the kitten in Crosshair’s hands.

“Alright,” he agreed. He didn’t even realize the island had a veterinarian. Tech gave him the location and he headed back down the path.

“Hello,” she said with a soft smile. “Crosshair, right? I’m Rayla. How can I help you?”

“Just the tooka? Your hound alright?" Rayla asked, nodding toward Batcher.

"Yes, she just follows me." He gave Batcher a nod and she sat down and waited patiently.

"How about you come back to the exam room and we’ll take a look at this little one,” Rayla offered. He simply nodded and followed. Crosshair looked around the room, almost more afraid than the tooka. There were various instruments, and he was sure there were even more in the cabinet. The veterinarian washed her hands and put on some gloves.

“How about we start with a weight?” she suggested, nodding to the scale. Crosshair put the kitten down, almost afraid to let go. She weighed much less than she should. Rayla noted her weight and then suggested a particular food for her. He nodded and moved her off the scale. He couldn’t quite keep his hands off her, trying to keep the contact while the exam was completed for fear of losing her or seeing her scared.

“She has fleas too.”

His eyes got wide, but he still didn’t pull away from her.

“She’s really taken with you,” she said.

“Mm,” was all he let out, but his eyes went soft.

“Are you planning on keeping her or would you like me to find her a hom-“

“No,” he firmly blurted out before quieting his tone again. “I’ll keep her.”

“Sounds good,” she replied, getting a towel.

Crosshair took it upon himself to wrap her up. Rayla showed him how to put drops in her eyes.

“In about a week you could give her a dewormer pill.”

“Vaar’ika,” he said.

“What does it mean?” she asked curiously.

“Pip-squeak.” Just as he said that, Vaar’ika let out tiny peep that made Rayla smile. She entered the relevant information.

“Well then,” she replied, “congratulations Vaar’ika. And congratulations Tooka Dad.”

Crosshair felt warmth flood his cheeks and ears, but it wasn’t unwelcome. He nodded at all Rayla’s directions about the dewormer and a follow up appointment.

Crosshair took Vaar’ika home. Wrecker had already told Echo, Hunter, and Omega about her and Omega waited at the window to meet this new addition to the family. Crosshair came through the door with Batcher and held the little one close to his chest. She was exhausted and he could feel her little body shake from the stress of the day.

“I want to help,” Omega declared.

Crosshair didn’t say anything as he walked toward his bedroom. He simply nodded in the general direction of the hallway and Omega’s smile grew as she knew it meant she should follow him. Crosshair put the tiny bundle on his bed and started looking for something to make a tooka bed next to Batcher's bed.

“What’s wrong with her eyes?” Omega asked.

“Infection,” Crosshair answered. “Needs to be given eye drops for a few days at least.”

“I can help,” Omega answered.

Vaar’ika was hiding under his bed, but Crosshair sat down, opened a can of food, and spooned out a little on the plate, waving Batcher away from the tempting smell. He placed the plate of food on the floor and she came out to eat. He smiled while watching her. She had an appetite and he knew that was important in her healing. He retrieved a little bowl of water for her and gave her a bit more food. After she finished eating and drinking, she jumped up on the window and pawed at it. Crosshair pursed his lips and then decided to take her outside. He looped the leash around her and picked her up. His hunch was right. Almost immediately, she found a spot to relieve herself. Maybe he had lucked out when it came to house training.

Once dinner was over, Crosshair made his way back to his room to give Vaar’ika another small meal. She ate it quickly and climbed on the window again. He took her out and this time she wandered around a little bit, exploring her new home. He took her back in, holding her in the crook of his arm and heading to bed. He placed her on her own bed next to Batcher, but once he climbed into his own, he could see her moving in the darkness. She made her way up the side of his bed post and purred as she snuggled against his chest. Crosshair smiled to himself and fluffed her hair. Batcher decided she would fit in the bed too and hopped up. She laid down near Crosshair's feet. Crosshair sighed, but wasn't going to say "no." It wasn't long before they drifted off to sleep together.

Crosshair spent the next few days helping his new companion find her feet. They established morning and evening walk routes. He purchased a little pink collar for her, making sure it included her name and his. It wasn’t long before he was comfortable taking her around off-leash. She never wandered too far and for the most part, seemed to like watching this world from her perch on his shoulders. He let Omega hold Vaar’ika when it was time to put her eyedrops in, but he never let Omega put the drops in. Finally Omega managed to wear him down and convinced him to let her try. Crosshair held the kitten, holding her back to his chest and supporting her back end with one hand. Omega approached the tooka’s eyes with the dropper bottle, aiming for the middle of her left eye.

“Aim for the corner of her eyes. It’s easier that way.” He offered her a smile and Omega tried again, this time leaving a couple little drops in each corner of Vaar’ika’s eyes.

“Perfect,” he said to his sister. “Thank you.”

“Happy to help,” Omega replied.

He was supposed to give the tooka her dewormer pill, but wasn’t sure he could do it and certainly didn’t expect Omega to. Batcher took her medication without question, but the tooka appeared more stubborn. He remembered Rayla’s instructions as he sat Vaar’ika on his bed and held the tiny pill between his thumb and finger.

He sighed to himself, picked up Vaar’ika and the pill, and marched to the vet clinic. Rayla was just finishing with a client and about to go to lunch when he walked in.

“Crosshair!” She beamed at him, happy to see him with the tooka. “And Vaar’ika. How are you?”

“I can’t give her the pill,” he said directly.

“Did she not want it?” Rayla asked. Many animals had trouble taking medication and it wasn’t an uncommon concern. “Did she spit it up?”

“No,” Crosshair said, revealing he still had the pill in its original form. “I can’t make her take it.”

Rayla sensed a great amount of empathy in him. He seemed scared to hurt this kitten, this small creature he’d already becoming so very attached to.

“She might take it if you mix it in her food. Is she still eating?”

Crosshair nodded.

“Okay,” Rayla acknowledged. “Cut the pill in quarters and put it in her dinner tonight. If she doesn’t eat it all, stop by tomorrow and we’ll see about another way.”

Crosshair nodded again.

“May I?” Rayla asked, hands out to touch the tooka. Crosshair nodded a third time and Rayla petted the little pile of fluff. She purred at the vet.

“Let’s schedule that now,” he said.

“See you both in a week for vaccines,” she said as they left.

That evening he cut the dewormer pill up into quarters and mixed it into the tooka food. He placed the plate down and Vaar’ika started eating. She paused at one point, knowing there was something different, and Crosshair held his breath. She took a taste and didn’t seem to mind and finished the entire thing. He felt so much relief. That night, like every night at this point, the kitten climbed into his bed and cuddled against his chest while Batcher hopped onto the foot of the bed and they all slept together. When Vaar'ika got up to stretch her feet or if she needed to go outside, he immediately woke up at the loss of her tiny body’s warmth. Then they’d get back to bed and fall asleep together.

Crosshair started finding reasons to visit the vet clinic in the days leading up to vaccination day. The smallest question about changing her food as she grew, asking questions about exercise, and some of the more mundane things. Some questions about Batcher (who, apparently, had already been spayed). He knew that he just wanted to see Rayla and have an excuse to get outside with his girls. Rayla didn’t mind. He always patiently waited if she was already with someone or had an appointment. She liked seeing him and the positive impact the tooka and the sniper had on each other. She let Crosshair say as much or as little as he wanted. She asked questions but knew when to back off. She wasn’t a completely open book, but she shared parts of herself with him too. He got curious and asked how she ended up on Pabu one day after she’d shown him how to make sure the kitten’s nails didn’t get too long. She explained how she left her home world when the Empire started taking over cities on the other side of her planet. She wasn’t going to wait around to see what would happen.

“Smart,” he replied. Rayla smiled sadly. She missed her former home, but knew she was lucky to be here. The threat of sea surges was much less daunting than dealing with the Empire.

“See you next time, Crosshair.”

He let a tiny smile escape and he left.

When he showed up for the kitten’s scheduled vaccines, he was a bit of a mess. He didn’t want her to be upset or hurt, but he also didn’t want to risk her dying of something preventable.

“I’ll be quick and I’ll use the smallest needle I have,” Rayla promised. “Do you want me to take her in the back and just get it over with or do you want to be with her?” She knew some animals did better away from their nervous person, but it was very much a case-by-case situation.

“I can’t leave her,” he replied.

Rayla nodded and instinctively put a hand on his arm. He let out a breath. They went back in the exam room and she weighed the tooka, noticing she’d put on a good amount of weight.

“Would you like to sit and hold her instead of keeping her on the exam table?” the vet asked.

Crosshair nodded and sat down, holding Vaar’ika. A small smile pulled at his cheek and he relaxed as she looked up at him. She wasn’t scared. The little fluff ball was just happy to be with him.

“Hey, not to be too forward,” she started, suddenly feeling very nervous now that she was putting this into words. Crosshair turned back to look at her curiously.

“Dinner?” he asked.

“I’d like that,” she replied.

“Tomorrow?”

“You know when I close.”

“I’ll be here.”

Both felt a warmth radiate over their cheeks as they said their goodbyes for the day. Crosshair carried his little bundle home while his mind ran wild with all kinds of thoughts. He didn’t want to let his nerves get to him and at the same time, he was giddy at the thought of spending more time with Rayla. He had to grin to himself. She liked his company. He hadn’t gotten very close to anyone who wasn’t a clone. There was an understanding with his brothers. He’d grown up with them. Omega was incredibly understanding of everyone, almost to the point of his annoyance, and yet he felt just as close to her as he had anyone in his life. Even with the regs, there was an understanding. Learning about someone in-depth with a completely different background was a newer experience to him, but he found that Rayla embraced each bit of himself that he revealed. Even when he was having an extra grumpy and stressful day, she seemed happy to see him.

The next evening, he left Vaar’ika and Batcher with Wrecker and Omega. They were more than happy to babysit the tooka and hound. They were having a movie night and Crosshair knew each animal would be doing her utmost to steal their snacks. The thought made him very happy.

“You look nice,” she said with a smile.

“So do you.”

“I thought I’d try to wear something nicer than my scrubs,” she replied.

“You’d look nice in anything,” he said as heat rose to his cheeks.

“I’ll level with you,” Rayla said. “I’ve talked to your siblings. I feel like I know quite a bit about you, but I want to learn about you from you.”

He simply nodded. “Not much to say,” he replied.

“I’m sure that’s not true.”

“Tell me about yourself,” he said before taking a sip of his drink. He was much more interested in learning about her than talking about himself.

“I think you already know a lot about me from our earlier conversations,” she answered.

“Hmm,” he said thoughtfully with a bit of a smile on his face. “Have you always worked alone? You do so much.”

“I had a vet tech until I came here. Actually, I purchased a GH-7 medical droid recently and I’m trying to modify it for veterinary work.”

“Sorry,” she said. “Didn’t mean to go on. It was just a silly thing to watch unfold.”

“No, I liked it,” he replied. He didn’t want her to stop. “Dessert?”

“Could we do this again?” he asked.

“What are you doing on Benduday?”

One evening she was supposed to meet him at the restaurant and didn’t. He’d brought flowers and wore a new shirt and definitely didn’t love the feeling of sitting at the table alone. He thought to himself that this was the first time in a long time where he was consistently seeking the presence of another person instead of solitude or time alone with his pets. Before he could spiral and let too many negative thoughts enter his mind, he decided to check at the clinic. He knew there might have been an emergency that required her attention. When he arrived, the clinic door was unlocked and he saw a light coming from an exam room. He let himself in and sat in the waiting area.

In the exam room, Rayla explained the situation to the worried owner. Her scans indicated a foreign object blocking the stomach and she and GHost – the now modified GH-7 droid – completed surgery to remove the offending mass. She sent the patient and their person home with a course of medication to help. Not long after they left, Rayla came out to find Crosshair dozing in his chair. She walked up to him and kissed his forehead.

“Mm.” He opened his eyes to look up at her. “Missed you.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “It was an emergency.”

“I know,” he replied, standing up and kissing her cheek. “These are for you.”

She took the flowers and kissed him again. “They’re lovely. Thank you.” After a pause and check of the time, she added, “I’ll clean up quickly. Walk me home?”

He nodded and waited as she cleaned off all the equipment and the table in the exam room, turned out the lights, and took his hand. They took their time walking together. It was a pleasant night and both were a little sad they didn’t get to have a relaxing dinner together.

“We should go out after Vaar’ika heals from her spay surgery,” Rayla suggested, knowingly adding, “I know you won’t want to leave her until she’s all healed up.”

“I just want to make sure she’ll be okay,” he answered. “But yes. I’d like that.”

She squeezed his hand and they grinned at each other.

The night before Vaar’ika’s spay, Crosshair was a mess. The only thing that calmed him down was Batcher resting at his feet and the little tooka herself. She had no idea what was coming but was simply living in the moment and in this moment, she wanted to sleep on his chest. He sat in front of a holovid with his family and slowly stroked the her soft fur. They fell asleep together as usual, but the next morning, his jitters were back.

He walked her to the clinic with Batcher at his side. He let Vaar'ika perch on his shoulder, but carried a crate since she would still be drowsy on the way home and Rayla insisted she needed a crate to limit movement while she healed.

“Good morning,” Rayla said as they came through the door. “Ready?”

Crosshair didn’t respond but tried to smile.

“She’s going to do great. I even have my droid GHost ready to go, unless you aren’t comfortable with him assisting me.”

Crosshair simply shook his head that he didn’t mind. “I trust you.”

“It won’t take long. I’ll make sure she has pain management and that she’s fully anesthetized, so she doesn’t feel anything during the procedure.”

He nodded and sat down. He was not so secretly relieved Batcher sat next to him. He rested a hand on her as Rayla took the tooka to the back to prepare her for surgery. GHost weighed her and drew the appropriate levels of medication. As the tooka went to sleep and Rayla shaved her belly, Crosshair could hear the calm way she addressed his little companion.

Crosshair started shaking but breathed through it. The adrenaline that was coursing through his system all morning had finally started to wear off and it left him feeling a bit dizzy. He sat back and focused on his breathing while he heard the woman he loved talking sweetly to Vaar’ika and felt Batcher's sense of calm. Not long after, Rayla reappeared with a sleepy tooka in the crate. Without thinking about it, Crosshair embraced her as he became overwhelmed with relief.

The next morning was the hardest. She felt an ache at the incision site and it clearly hurt her to move compared to yesterday, despite the pain medication. He tried not to think too hard about it, feeling unsure of when to ask for help and what was normal. She’d had surgery after all, it was impossible for her to feel completely healed in less than a single day. He laid around the house with her, cuddling her close since that seemed to help her stay more comfortable. He was grumpier with his siblings, though. He tried to keep to himself, but once Omega and Wrecker started playing and making a bit of a racket, he took Vaar’ika to the clinic with Batcher following as usual. He wasn’t sure exactly why he was going. He didn’t think it was an emergency, but knew Rayla would be done with her work, barring anything urgent. He sat in the waiting room and talked gently to the little ball of tired fluff laying in his arms. He rhythmically stroked her fur, but didn’t feel her usual happy purr.

“She okay?” Rayla asked, appearing as she finished cleaning up the exam room.

“Not sure,” Crosshair replied.

“Mind if I look?”

Crosshair handed the tooka over to Rayla who carefully turned her over.

“Looks like it’s healing fine. Don’t see any sign of infection. She might just be in a bit more pain than anticipated. I can give her an extra little med patch if you want to try that.”

Crosshair nodded. As Rayla retrieved a patch and cut it down to the right size, she asked, “What else is going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“You have a lot on your mind and you look… gruff.”

He didn't say anything at first. Batcher looked up between them, first at Rayla, then at Crosshair, then back to Rayla.

He looked at the hound, shook his head, and let out a breath. “Just worried about her and it’s loud at home.”

“Well, you’re welcome to have some quiet time here. I have some paperwork to do, some blood tests to analyze, and then I’m headed home. You’re welcome to join me if the three of you need a change of pace.”

Crosshair’s eyes warmed and he returned her familiar smile. He sat back down and went back to petting Vaar’ika until she fell asleep. The patch seemed to help her feel better and by extension, he felt better. Rayla worked nearby, looking through her datapad, taking inventory, and updating her notes as she went along. The rest of the day went by without a hitch. It was a good day when there were no major emergencies. She made sure her comm was on, knowing that some days no one needed her until she left for home. She packed up and walked home with the trio. As they headed down the road, she broke the silence.

“She hasn’t slept in her crate, has she?”

Crosshair grinned almost shyly. “She’s used to sleeping with me. She stays still.”

“As long as she’s still. Don’t want her hurting her incision.”

"Batcher will probably invite herself onto any bed or furniture," he added."

"Wouldn't have it any other way."

The evening was perfectly quiet. They ate a simple meal and cleaned up together while Vaar’ika and Batcher napped in the armchair. Later, they found themselves in bed together for the first time. Crosshair lifted his arm and pulled Rayla to his side. She laid an arm around his waist while Vaar’ika curled up in the crook of his neck and Batcher slept at their feet. He felt his heartbeat syncing with Rayla’s. She smiled and kissed his cheek before she closed her eyes. They soaked in each other’s warmth and fell asleep.

#crosshair x oc #tbb crosshair x oc #the bad batch #tbb #tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #batcher #tbb crosshair #crosshair #crosshair x veterinarian oc #tbb crosshair x veterinarian oc #tooka #star wars #oc #star wars oc #star wars fanfiction #tbb fanfiction #the bad batch fanfiction

49 notes · View notes

demonsandmischief · 3 years

Text

Our Moment Finale

Marvel - A Captain America Fairytale AU

King! Steve Rogers x Female Reader

1.8K Words

Here's Pt 1 and Pt 2

-Part 3-

the conclusion

----

You didn't waste anytime getting home, collapsing onto your bed with a sob that you muffled with your palm. It seemed nothing good could ever truly be yours.

You glanced around the small attic space with blurry tears. The house was supposed to be for you. Your father had left it in your name, yet your step-mother was able to work her way around that.

It was the only reason you stuck around, the only reason you put up with all of it. You were over it.

Peaches was the only thing that you felt a connection to. Your father adored her, and you were honored that you got to bond with her.

You made up your mind. It was time to move on. You dried that last of your tears and began packing a bag. You carefully folded your mother's dress and put it back in the box you got it from. One day when the memories weren't as painful, you would come back for it.

You wished things could be different with your life, but mostly with Steve. You should have known better than to get tied up with the king. It was too good to be true. You felt you had done everything you could to win over his trust, but obviously not enough.

You strapped your bag to your horse. The next town was about a days ride, and you could figure out where to go from there.

---

Steve didn't hesitate to saddle his own horse as quickly as possible. He had to go after you - had to explain. He couldn't lose you. You were the only good thing to ever happen to him.

He stalled in his tracks. Explain what exactly? That his biggest fear was being used and never being loved? He shook his head.

"My king, where are you off to?" a guard asked confused.

"I have to leave."

"But the ball-"

"Tell the court I will explain when I get back."

"Wait, you can't leave without someone going with you."

Steve was already racing down the path, his heart racing along with it.

"There's no time for that," he called. He could take care of himself.

He thought of you as he followed the familiar trail. He thought of the first day you met, and all of the moments thereafter. You always made time for him, always listened to what he had to say. You were attentive and doting.

He had screwed up.

The trail became less familiar. He didn't know where he was going, or how he would find you. He swallowed down the panic. He couldn't lose you. It was a constant circling thought.

Eventually the trail ended and he slowed to a trot. He saw a house up ahead, and a royal carriage in front of it.

He slowed, finding Sam speaking to a guard.

"What are you doing here and how did you get here so fast?" Steve asked.

Sam took his horse's reins. "I know something has been up with you lately, but you can explain later. The lady you talked to at the ball is in the house."

Your step-mother. He had some words for her, but first he needed you.

"Thank you, Sam. I owe you," Steve said, heading for the door.

"Your highness, it's a pleasure to have you in our home-"

"Don't act like I don't know what is going on," he said, cutting her off. "I will deal with you later. Is she here? Where is her room?"

The lady paled even beneath the layers of powder on her cheek.

"S-She's not-" she swallowed at Steve's fierce look, before gathering her wits. "My king, she's not here. She's hardly ever here. I'll show you where she prefers to spend her time."

Steve followed her down a hallway to a door with a winding staircase. She guided him up and into the small room at the top. The ceilings were so low that he had to scrunch his shoulders.

He took in the space, feeling upset at your living conditions.

"Leave me," he demanded, unable to look away from the small bed in the corner, one that contained a single blanket and a pillow, folded neatly on the end.

The step-mother was right. It looked like someone hardly lived here, except there was a freshly cut flower on the windowsill, soaking in the low, dusty light. And the books you had borrowed from his own library sat tucked by the bed. Most importantly, the beautiful dress that he never got to say anything to you about was hanging from the sides of a box under the bed. You must have been in a haste to leave.

He frowned, bending down to pick up a folded piece of paper. Were those the things you did by yourself? What had you gone through?

Steve cursed. He wished he could have started the night over. He wished that he had gone through his original plan instead of being sucked into his own insecurities.

"Where would she have gone?" he asked impatiently to the lady who was lounging on her couch.

"If she isn't in the barn with that horse, I have no clue."

There was no sign of a horse or you. He closed his eyes, feeling the anxiety creeping in and swallowing him whole. It was dark and late, and you were somewhere all alone. It was all his fault.

"She might know someone in the next town over," Sam suggested. "We could head over tomorrow."

"That's a days journey. I'll start the route tonight."

"You're exhausted, Steve," he protested.

"Just in case," his words dropped to a hoarse whisper, his mind plunged into the darkest corners.

Sam nodded. "We will catch up with you tomorrow then. Be safe."

He nodded, already going down the dark path, his heart thudding loud in his ears.

---

You were taking a break and letting Peaches rest. The fire you built was warm and soothing on your stiff limbs. Even after the incident in the woods a while back, it didn't scare you to be out alone. The stars and the moon made it seem as though you could feel your parents, and you enjoyed the sentiment, especially after the day you had.

You rested your head on your hand, your eyes fluttering closed. They were dry and sticky from the tears that had fallen.

You gave a shuddering hiccup, unable to give into the heartbreak anymore. You were cried out. Beyond upset - a numbness covered your whole body like a scab on a wound.

You jolted, hearing steps near you and you staggered quickly to your feet.

"Thank god you're alright," Steve said, rushing towards you. He pulled you tight into his embrace, and it took everything in you not to hug him back.

"What are you doing here, your highness?" you asked confused, trying to pull away. He didn't let go, only eased back so his hand remained on your shoulders.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I believed her over you. I'm sorry that it took me so long to come after you. I'm sorry for everything," he said the words so sincerely that tears filled your eyes for the millionth time tonight. He caressed you cheek, using the pad of his thumb to dry a fallen drop. "And it's just Steve to you."

"But you still did it," you whispered, voice thick with tears. "You don't trust me."

"I do trust you," he said earnestly. "and I care about you. It has been a long time since I shared those emotions with anyone."

"It doesn't matter," you successfully pull away. His hands drop dejectedly to his side. "You're a king, and I'm me. It would have never worked out."

It was quiet a moment. "Why didn't you tell me what you were going through at home?"

You sat down and Steve followed. "I didn't want you to think I was using you. I guess we both have our own insecurities."

He looked into the dimming flames of the fire. "Insecurities or not, I shouldn't have accused. I'm sorry I hurt you."

He waited, but you said nothing. "We're both exhausted and need sleep. Why don't we head back?" He stood, holding out his hand to you.

You shook your head, "I'm not going back."

He paused, fully expecting that response, but it still took him aback. He definitely wasn't going to leave you alone in the middle of nowhere though.

"Okay," he nodded, heading to his horse.

You frowned.

He turned with a blanket, draping it over you, before tending to the fire. Finally, he sat next to you with a sigh. His body was pressed against yours and you couldn't help but sag in relief at the support.

"You can't stay. You have to get back," you protested.

"Shh," he eased, kissing your forehead ever so softly. "Sleep a bit and then we will talk."

---

Gentle light breaking through the trees awoke you from your slumber. You shivered from the damp cold, curling closer to the source of warmth beneath you. Your eyes fluttered and you realized you were practically laying on top of Steve.

You called his name, shaking him gently.

"We fell asleep," you told him with a yawn, falling back onto his chest. It was the best sleep you ever had.

He hummed, wrapping his arm around your waist.

"I'm sorry. You must be freezing," he said coming to, easing the both of you up. Your cheeks heated and you moved to get off of his lap.

He adjusted the blanket so it was pulled tight over your shoulders.

"Come back with me, please," he whispered, turning your chin to look at him. "You can stay with me. I just want to be with you."

"You want me to stay with you?" you asked.

"We could get married in the summer," he grinned, the first genuine smile you had seen in a while.

"Married?" you asked, biting back a smile.

He nodded eagerly. "I'm falling in love with you."

---

Epilogue:

"Come on," Steve encouraged, pulling you eagerly down the hall to your favorite room in the palace.

Things were working out good, really good, between the two of you.

"What are we doing?"

"Close your eyes," he smiled, taking his large warm hands and covering them for you.

He pulled them off with an exaggerated ta-da, revealing a new shelf next to his in the library.

"Now you have your own spot for all of your favorites."

"Thank you," you smiled, leaning up to kiss him. "I love it. I love you."

And they lived happily ever after.

---

Hope you enjoyed 💕

Here's My Masterlist

Tags: @cc12-02 @rockstwrsz @coffeebooksandfandom @liecastillo @trudy-shams @animegirlgeeky @thee-silent-fangirl @eralen @lharrietg @loveforreading

Check out my other stories or leave a request.

#steve rogers imagine #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers angst #marvel imagine #marvel #captain america fluff #captain america imagine #captain america au #Chris Evans

149 notes · View notes

cerinefalls · 3 years

Text

‎

𝒪𝓃𝑒 𝐵𝑒𝒹

An Izuku Midoriya x Reader

Summary: On the way back to UA after a weekend of field training, the bus breaks down. Luckily for classes 1A and 1B, Vlad was able to find you rooms! Unluckily for everyone, it was not a big hotel. Time to share, and your roommate was... you guessed it; Izuku Midoriya! Good thing, too, because you're not feeling too good.

Other Parts: Shoto Todoroki

Content: SFW, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Suggestive Themes

｡:+* ﾟ゜ﾟ *+:｡:+* ﾟ゜ﾟ *+:｡:+* ﾟ゜ﾟ

You wandered down the halls near aimlessly as you searched for your room. It shouldn't have been so hard to find a room in a hotel, but unfortunately for you, this place had no order. Room 412 should've been right between 410 and 414, but in its place was room 416. Was your room even located on the fourth floor? You were unsure at this point.

"Four twelve... four twelve... four twelve... It should be here, but these aren't in numerical order. Maybe if I retrace my steps, I'll see that I missed something! No, these aren't in order either. Are villains trying to disorient us? Maybe I'm thinking too hard... " You overheard a familiar voice muttering down the hall. It was nearing you, but you couldn't point out exactly who it was.

As you continued down the dimly lit hallway, the voice gradually got louder. Soon, it sounded like it was right in front of you. It was right in front of you! You bumped into the source of the sound and nearly fell backward. That was an oddly soft wall you'd run into.

"I am so sorry! I didn't mean to bump into you, I swear! Are you okay? Did I hurt you? I-" Now you knew who it was. Who else went on and on that way? It had to be Deku.

"No- I'm fine, Midoriya." You brushed off whatever initial shock you'd felt and stood up straight again. "You said 412?" The room. That was your room, and if he'd seen it, you needed to know where.

"What? Oh, the woman at the desk told me to look for room 412, but I can't find it anywhere." Izuku replied to you without hesitation. His brain was running at full capacity at all times, after all.

"She did? That's my room too. Can we look together?" You'd been grouped with Midoriya? That was unexpected. You'd expected someone like him to end up with Bakugo or Todoroki, but it looked like he was stuck with you. You didn't know him too well, but he probably didn't mind.

"Yeah! This must be a test." He nodded, accepting your offer. Was he always thinking about hero work? That looked like what the hero course did to them all.

The two of you spent minute after minute hauling luggage around the fourth floor. After a while, Izuku offered to take your bags for you. You declined- but were starting to wish you hadn't. Double-checking, triple-checking- nothing provided results, and it was beginning to tire you.

"Maybe it's on another floor?" You pitched your idea to the now pacing and muttering mess of a boy. He'd hardly heard you through his thick thought bubble.

"Of course! If all of these are out of order, there's no telling how disorienting the next floors are. It must be somewhere else!" Had he seriously not considered that before? You hesitated to tell him because you thought he'd already checked the other floors. Then again, this wouldn't be the first time someone had to suggest something obvious to him.

Izuku led you to the elevator and pressed the button to move down a floor. One floor at a time, that's how you'd do it. The wait was long, and Midoriya appeared lost in thought the entire time. Soon, the quiet elevator ride lowered you to the third floor.

"Alright, let's check around here for the-"

"I found it!" Midoriya interrupted you with his outburst from slightly down the hall. Sure enough, on the 3rd floor, 412 was sat between 310 and 314. It made you wonder what happened to room 312.

Never mind any of your questions or concerns, it was time to sit! Finally, after all that time training, you got to sit on a sturdy piece of furniture. The odd circumstances didn't even cross your mind as you rushed past Izuku and onto the red couch that sat against the wall in the front of your hotel room.

"You're smart," Midoriya smiled wide as he shut the door behind you. After the click of the lock settled your arrangement, he too sat on the couch at the separate end. "So it... looks like we're going to be spending the night here. I'm glad Class B's teacher was able to find us rooms." He nodded to himself.

"Me too." You nodded, stretching out. As you finished your relieving movement and turned to Izuku, you were met with an intense stare. He stopped when he noticed you looking, though. "What?" You questioned.

"Oh- nothing! It's just... your side. It's scratched," He mentioned. Right! that cut you'd gotten during practice. You'd forgotten all about it when the bus broke down. It wasn't bleeding anymore, and the pain had gone away. "Is it bad?" Izuku sounded concerned.

"No! Just a silly surface wound. I'm sure it'll be fine once we get to recovery girl." You responded fine, but Izuku did not seem to agree with you. He looked worried, face sporting a frown.

"You should really make sure it gets cleaned and patched up." He stood up and walked towards the bathroom, opening the door and disappearing inside. For a while. you wondered why. What was he doing in there? All that rustling and banging had to mean something.

"They didn't really have bandages, so I-" Eventually, your questions were answered. Izuku exited the bathroom with a first-aid kit and... other things.

"Bandages? I'm not bleeding." You tilted your head a few times, trying to see what he'd come up with. Deku was surely one to know how to wrap wounds, so it couldn't have been anything outrageous.

"You were! It's important to keep it sealed, even if you aren't bleeding anymore." The reason this green-haired boy was panicking was unannounced to you, but in midst of his worry, he made a good point. Who knew what lurked in this hotel? An infection was the last thing you needed.

"Well... alright, Midoriya. How do you plan on helping this, though?" You asked, agreeing to let him help you. Izuku smiled wryly before pulling from behind him a... roll of toilet paper?

"The toiletries here aren't soft and crumbly. They're sort of like... paper. This can make a good temporary bandage when used correctly." His smile was unsure- almost as if he wanted you to fact-check him. You nodded to say you trusted him, but as for the quality of his information? Well, nobody knows.

"Okay... and how do you expect to get that to stick?" You could ask Sero- but, other than that, all options looked to be off the table.

"The first aid kit doesn't have gauze, but it does have some tape left! Skin-safe, of course!" His smile looked more sure now. It faded as he began to put together his makeshift bandaging. He looked focused as he wiped your skin clean with alcohol pads and waved them dry.

He seemed focussed- not on the process- but on keeping you comfortable. Izuku knew he had the ability to hurt you if he wasn't careful, because even though you'd felt fine before, you flinched each time he pressed around the cuts. They were not completely healed, after all.

"Normally, I'd tell you to go take a shower..." He spoke under his breath, tape holder securely between his teeth as he tore pieces to use. "But, because of how these are... I know it'll hurt if you do." Midoriya gently secured a large, doubled-over section of toilet paper to your side. He was right to say the texture was that of paper because you would surely hate to wipe with what he'd placed on you.

"But, shouldn't I shower anyway? We were training, and..." You tried to finish your sentence, but you couldn't quite bring yourself to when you noticed Izuku lost in thought. He was staring at your waist, your top moved with one of his hands as the other carefully ran across the 'bandaging' he'd just applied.

"Might need another layer..." He mumbled, not paying all too much attention to what you said- until you called him, that is.

"Izuku?" You leaned as close to eye level with him as you could and it startled him.

"Oh- sorry!" Whether it was his name or the sharp eye contact that drew his attention was unknown. What you did know was that he'd quickly backed away from you, unhanding your clothes and swiping your side a bit as he stumbled backward on the couch. You tried not to let him know it'd hurt, but you couldn't help the instinctual jolt away from him that followed. "Did I- oh no, I'm really sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you! I was just scared I was making you uncomfortable and then you looked at me and you said my name and I got scared and..." He... was... mumbling to himself again.

"Midoriya, it's fine. I was just-" You attempted to calm him down, but he was too far gone. It appeared his stunt of focus was interrupted by his feeling of embarrassment. Maybe you should try his first name again? "...Izuku?" It worked! His muttering paused and he looked up at you. His expression was unreadable for a moment.

"You said it again..." He sat up and paused, clearly trying to deduce something. Was that seriously all it took to calm him down?

"Said... what?" You questioned, holding a hand to the throbbing pain on your midsection. He had a harder hit than you thought he would- especially for an accident. He must've really sought to keep a light hand before.

"My... name. I'm sorry if that sounds odd! It's just..." He looked away from you, not without glancing at the hand you held to your side. "Ever since Kacchan and I got to UA... Well, I guess I didn't realize people knew my name." That was true. Bakugo had given Izuku that nickname, and it spread like a rash. Midoriya was strong to have flipped it to be his hero name. Ever since then, no one had called him by anything but Deku or Midoriya.

"I hope I'm not crossing any lines by using it- it just seemed to capture your attention." Your response was direct and apologetic.

"It's not that," Midoriya shook his head. "I have no problem with it! It's just... new." He mustered another smile and met your eyes again. You quickly moved your hand but you knew he'd seen it. Your intention wasn't to make him feel bad! It just hurt, was all.

"Well, Izuku... how about we go to sleep? It's getting late," You tested him. His smile formed more properly this time!

"Yes, but I really should add another layer or two to that. I wouldn't want it to tear in your sleep." He was calm enough to say that without flustering himself. Perhaps the same focus he had earlier had returned? No, that wasn't it.

The look in his eyes as he carefully followed the same process he had before matched the look there was during training today. He wasn't just focused on helping you- he was in a hero's mindset. It would've been endearing had you not known about his crippling hero complex.

Nevermind that.

Once Izuku had finished putting a more cushiony layer over your midriff, he backed away to view what he'd done. He seemed proud of himself. Rightfully so! Because he'd truly done his best in this endeavor.

"This doesn't hurt, does it?" He moved the hand he'd used to hold up your top down to your waist, his second hand doing the same on the opposite side. Midoriya applied a gentle amount of pressure with both hands, and shockingly, it didn't hurt at all!

"Wow... it... doesn't-" You shook your head and looked down at his hands. It was a bit interesting- looking at him. He still resembled an entirely different state of mind as he sat there tending to you. After a couple more squeezes, though, your own mind wandered.

You attempted to fight it by taking a more literal view of things. You looked first at his arms. They were freckled splotchily. It was an interesting pattern in contrast to the multitude of horizontal scars on his hands. His hands... you couldn't quite see them. The fabric of your shirt had completely fallen over top of them as he continued to pressure check. This method of literal examination only worked for as long as you could focus on it, though. Once Izuku began gently dragging his hands up and down your midsection to check for sturdiness, that strategy was less effective.

"It's not slipping... I think you're good for tonight. Let me know... if it... gets..." As Midoriya lifted his head to make proper eye contact while he spoke, he noticed an all-too-familiar expression on your face. Heat had risen to your cheeks, and you were clearly averting your eyes from his own. Had he made you... nervous? He wasn't sure, but it seemed you were timid in comparison to earlier. Izuku slowly removed his hands from under your shirt and placed them on your knees, watching you closely. "Are you alright?" He asked, voice saturated in concern.

"I'm fine! Nothing's wrong." You brushed off his concern, though you were still twiddling around. "You said it seems alright?" You aimed to change the subject. It was time for bed anyway! Midoriya had to be exhausted from today's training, after all.

"Yes... I applied about as much pressure as a mattress would and you didn't flinch. I think you'll be alright to sleep," He nodded. Would you be able to get him back to his usual mindset any time soon? It was beginning to get uncomfortable– usually, Deku was the one getting flustered, but right now he was calm and you were the one stumbling over yourself.

All you could do was nod. Eventually, Midoriya backed away from you to allow you to change. It was just the break you needed. You walked into the bedroom with your bag and pulled out your bedclothes. You were met with a shock when you turned to put them on, though.

"That can't be right..." You said that louder than you'd meant to. Who wouldn't, though? This was a room for two people, wasn't it?

"Is everything okay in here?" Midoriya was approaching, but you didn't hear him entirely. You wished he'd knocked when he entered, though. Izuku walked in on you with your shirt hanging from your neck. You rushed to put it back on, slipping it onto your arms as he stepped forward.

"Only... one?" He questioned. It seemed he hadn't noticed you. It wasn't surprising because the two of you were confused about the same thing. Be it some twist of fate, or some odd plot device– the sight in front of you was absurd. There was only one bed.

"I'm sure this is a mistake. I mean, our room was on the wrong floor," You mentioned.

"You're right... but, I don't think we can do anything about it." Midoriya was shifting from foot to foot behind you. "I should sleep on the couch! You're injured, and I don't want you to get hurt any more than you are." The way he spoke was not that of his usual self. He still sounded like he was thinking tactically as opposed to how he normally would.

"No! I mean- no. Izuku, you can stay in here." You looked at the bed once again. There may have only been one- but it was huge! No reason for him to sleep on the couch at all. "Even so, what if I do get hurt? I'd rather you be here to help me." Were you doubting his toilet paper bandages?

...You were. You were doubting his toilet paper bandages.

"I-" Had you finally choked him up? Gotten at least some Midoriya-like response? You had! For once, you managed to make him think about the situation. You didn't know why, but for some reason, you were pleased by it.

"You..?" You prodded.

"Well! I suppose you may be right..." He was looking away from you now, rocking back and forth. You'd gotten him just as nervous as he'd had you. Midoriya was clearly trying to rationalize what you'd said. You were correct- his creation was his creation. If it tore or fell off, he would have to be the one to replace it. So it was settled. Midoriya would sleep on one end, you on the other.

You attempted to change your clothes once Izuku had left but soon noticed that would be more difficult than planned. When you attempted to lift your arms over your head, you felt a painful sting around you. You could hear his pacing around come to a stop when you audibly expressed distress. You'd just gotten your shirt off fine! Why was the wound hurting now?

Things began to make sense over time, though. You'd encountered a villain with no flashy or visible quirk– but they'd hit you with something unique to them. That kitty had claws, and it was looking like they'd hit you with a concealed weapon.

"Are you okay!?" Izuku rushed in soon after you'd realized what was going on. He sounded remarkably worried. Perhaps your cry of pain was louder than you'd thought...

"I'm fine... I think." You had to sit down. The more time that passed, the more painful things became. "I don't think that villain I fought had a mutant quirk..." You huffed, eyes watery. It was only downhill from here.

"Really? Did I jot it down wrong? What's happening?" He was frantic in his efforts to gather information. Midoriya sat down on the side of you that wasn't injured to avoid hurting you.

"The more... I move..." You were slowly growing out of breath. Were you panicking yourself? It felt as though maybe the venomous scratches raked harder with the rise and fall of your chest. "I don't know... I was fine until I tried to move my arms... maybe I did it too fast?"

"Oh no this is bad... the only time I've seen a quirk like this was..." No need to type out all of his panic-filled sentences. Long story short, he felt a bit responsible for your pain. You hadn't started hurting until he tried to fix it, after all.

"Izuku, I don't care." You began to steady your breathing so that you could talk to him properly, though you still sounded strained. "I just want to go to sleep, and I won't be able to get there on my own." If he really felt he was at fault, he'd likely oblige to helping you. You at least hoped he would, because the pain you felt only got worse when you attempted to care for yourself.

"Are you sure?" He sounded worried again now; not for you, but his skills. It was much like the worry he'd harbored while bandaging you. If he was not careful now, he could really hurt you. His ceaseless trembling made his unease all the more clear, and you all the more impatient.

"Hey- just think of it how you did last time. You know... like you're being a hero?" You mentioned his earlier attitude, and almost like a lightbulb had been lit, he changed his demeanor.

"I was acting like that? I'm sorry- I didn't notice." He stood up and stepped in front of you. "But, if it helped... I guess I could do it again." Izuku was visibly trying to switch attitudes again. It did not take long. Soon, he was mumbling things he noticed about the quirk's effect on you while looking for a place to start. Now, you felt the same hands that'd helped wrap you on your sides once again. This time, though, he was focused on your clothes.

"That's your pajama shirt over there, right?" He asked, voice wary. For a second you were unsure why.

"Yes, that's the one. Could you bring it to me?" You replied simply. If you kept a work-based mindset, it would help him maintain one as well.

"Of course! But, well... I guess what I'm trying to say here is that you shouldn't put it on on your own..." Though he was attempting to remain professional, he couldn't help the tint that covered his cheeks. This was embarrassing. "I'll look away! Only one of us needs to see for me to help you, right?" He was starting to let the fear seep through his voice. You brushed it off to save his pride.

You just nodded, assuming it'd work. It did work! Though you couldn't focus the entire time. Izuku ran his hands down the sides of your top, grabbing the bottom hem gently. He did his best not to bump into you or cause you to move more than you had to, knowing it'd be painful.

It was hard to get your arms up, but you did it for as long as you could while Midoriya slid off your day clothes and neatly fixed your bed shirt atop of you. Once he'd let it down, he helped you bring your arms down and laid you on the bed.

"I promise to stay close so you can call me if you need to. Only if you want to, that is! I don't know how long the effects of that quirk will last, so..." Whatever the effects were. It was a bit hard to tell. As you laid still, the pain from before began to subside. Sure enough, you were just fine to lay on the bed. Neither side of you caused trouble–

That is until you chose to remove the bottoms you'd been wearing. It was a tad warm with another person in bed, and you were under the covers anyhow. It shouldn't have mattered! Sadly for you, though, the last bit of stretch you needed to move them past your hips was too much for your body to handle. Perhaps the bend in your midsection was what caused the quirk to activate? Every time you moved your core, venomous stings prickled throughout your body. Izuku felt the sheets rustling and turned over to check on you.

"Are you alright?" He asked, sitting up on his forearm to look over you. You stopped moving, a wise decision, and cleared your throat to respond to him.

"Well, I was trying to get comfortable, and..." Your sentence trailed as you began to think this was nothing worth troubling him with. "It's nothing, Izuku. Just a little pain."

"Well, how can I help?" He sounded once again concerned, and you could feel him sitting up behind you.

"No ways you'd want to! Don't worry about it, really." You insisted, but he insisted harder. It took quite some time, but eventually, he broke you into telling him the issue. Midoriya was clearly rattled, but he also dispensed a strange look of determination. He did tell you he would be there to help you, and he was determined to live up to his word. A hero may be put in uncomfortable situations after all.

After a long list of questions asking for consent to help you with your... specific problem, he raised enough courage to scoot behind you and begin his assistance. What happened next nearly stunned you. Izuku did his best not to move you as he gently slid his left hand beneath your hips. He felt around for a moment, and you could almost hear him panicking when he couldn't find the top seem of your pants. He decided it'd be best to find the top using his other hand, and so shortly after you found his right hand slinking fingers around your waist and traveling down to your thigh.

Your face burned as he continued to feel around for your clothes. Eventually, he found what he thought to be the hook he was looking for. As he pulled and you shifted backward into him to stop the fabric from moving, he realized he'd picked the wrong thing.

"I am so sorry! I didn't mean to- oh this is bad. I'm so so sorry, I didn't know that was there and I-" Boy was he good at talking. You shushed him quickly, though, feeling well enough to use your own hand to guid his down to where your bottoms really were. You attempted not to squirm as he carefully pulled them past your thighs and got them off of your feet.

"Thank you." You smiled, sporting a grateful expression. The both of you were thankful it was dark, because each of you had blushed faces due to what'd happened under the covers.

"You're very welcome." Deku sounded distant when he replied. He attempted to act as normal as possible, but the air in the room was thick enough to suffocate you. Today was eventful to say the very least.

"Hey, Izuku?" You called him, hoping you could surface his mind.

"Oh- yes?" He sounded attentive enough.

"Let's.. go to bed, yeah?"

"That... is a great idea."

In the stoic silence of your room you eventually found yourself drifting into sleep. Izuku hadn't moved his hands from around your waist when he brought them up from your legs. You were glad, because had he made any sudden movements in his startled state he would've done more harm than good. It wasn't like the position of his hands was uncomfortable, either. Soon enough, both of you were unconscious. It would be a shame if someone walked in that night... oh well. Not like they could find the room.

｡:+* ﾟ゜ﾟ *+:｡:+* ﾟ゜ﾟ *+:｡:+* ﾟ゜ﾟ

If you've made it this far, thank you! Go ahead and keep reading.

My requests are open and I encourage you to use them!

Check out my other socials!

185 notes · View notes

translations-by-aiimee · 3 years

Text

The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 25

Original Title: 二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 25 - This Venerable One Hates Him So Much!

Chu Wanning couldn't force a "go away" to leave his throat. There was a long sombre pause before he changed his answer to: "Come in."

"Huh? Your door isn't locked?" They had been giving each other the silent treatment all day. But now, Mo Ran had the intention of reconciling with him, so he pushed open the door as he spoke like nothing had ever happened. Chu Wanning, on the other hand, sat expressionlessly at the table. He raised his eyes and glanced at him faintly.

In all fairness, Mo Ran was incredibly beautiful, and the whole room seemed to brighten as soon as he walked in the door. He was indeed very young. His skin was tight and seemed to exude a faint glow. The corners of his mouth were naturally slightly curled, and he seemed to be smiling even when he wasn't showing any emotion.

Chu Wanning didn't move his eyes off of Mo Ran. His slender eyelashes drooped and raised his hand to pinch out the incense burning on the table. He coldly asked:

"What are you doing here?"

"I came. . . to check your injury." Mo Ran awkwardly coughed. His eyes fell on Chu Wanning's shoulder and he froze. "You dressed it already?"

Chu Wanning faintly said: "Yes."

Mo Ran didn't know what to say: ". . ."

He really hated Chu Wanning, and he was furious that Chu Wanning had hurt Shi Mei. But, after calming down, Mo Ran wasn't completely without a conscience. Yeah, he hated him, but he didn't forget that Chu Wanning's shoulder was injured.

In the claustrophobic coffin, Chu Wanning had tightly guarded him in his arms, blocking the Master of Ceremonies Ghost's claws with his own body. His body had trembled in pain but he didn't let go. . .

To Chu Wanning, Mo Ran was disgusting.

But in addition to disgust, some very complicated emotions were always mixed in with it for some reason.

He was a rude person. He didn't read books when he was a child. Although he obtained some literary knowledge later, he still couldn't grasp many concepts easily when it came to many delicate things, especially when it came to feelings.

For example, when it came to Chu Wanning, Mo Ran rubbed his head and pondered. The back of his head was going to go bald, but he still couldn't figure out what this feeling was.

He can only identify certain kinds of feelings: love, hate, detest, happiness and unhappiness.

If all these emotions were mixed together, the wise and powerful cultivation emperor would get crossed-eyed and really dizzy.

He didn't understand. He couldn't understand. He didn't know. Help, my head hurts.

So Mo Ran didn't bother to dwell on it. Besides, he didn't have time to focus on any details other than Shi Mei.

He didn't hold good feelings for Chu Wanning in his heart, and while secretly plotting when he might have an opportunity in the future, he would make him pay with double the ferocity. On the other hand, he felt guilty. After an internal battle with himself, he finally knocked on Chu Wanning's door.

He didn't want to owe Chu Wanning.

But Chu Wanning was more stubborn and ruthless than he thought.

Mo Ran stared at the pile of blood-stained cotton gauze on the table, the bowl of hot water stained red with blood, and the sharp knife that was thrown haphazardly thrown aside. The tip of the knife was still coated with flesh and blood. His head was spinning.

How did he manage to heal himself?

Had he really cut off the festering flesh without so much as blinking? Just imagining it sent a chill down his spine. Was this guy even human?

He thought about when he had cleaned up Shi Mei's wound. Shi Mei had groaned softly in pain with tears in the corners of his eyes. Even though Mo Ran didn’t like Chu Wanning, he couldn’t help but silently give him credit——

Elder Yuheng was truly a domineering and righteous man, no arguments there.

After standing in place for a while, Mo Ran was the first to break the silence. He coughed, tapping his toes against the floor, and awkwardly said: "What happened in the Chen house. . . Shizun, I'm sorry."

Chu Wanning didn't say anything.

Mo Ran stole a glance at him: "I shouldn't have yelled at you."

Chu Wanning still ignored him. His face was still. As always, he had no reaction, but that didn't mean he wasn't aggravated and just not saying anything.

Mo Ran walked over. When he got closer, he saw the mess of bandages on Chu Wanning's shoulder. The cotton gauze was tied in several different ways. It looked like a group of crabs that were stuck together.

". . ."

Also, for a person who doesn't know how to wash his own clothes, can he really be trusted to treat himself?

Mo Ran sighed: "Shizun, don't be angry."

"Do I look angry?" Chu Wanning angrily responded.

Mo Ran: ". ."

After a long pause.

"Shizun, that's not how you wrap a bandage. . ."

He retorted unceremoniously: "You want you to teach me?"

Mo Ran: ". . ."

He raised his hand. He wanted to help Chu Wanning untie the gauze and wrap it again, but he was observant and felt that if he dared to touch him, he might end up with a lashing, so he hesitated.

He raised his hand then lowered it, and then raised it again, repeating the action several times. Chu Wanning was getting annoyed. He squinted at him: "What are you doing? Do you still want to fight me?"

". . ." He really wanted to fight him, but now wasn't a good time.

Mo Ran smiled sheepishly. Throwing caution to the wind, he suddenly reached over and grabbed his shoulders, dimples appearing at the corners of his mouth: "Shizun, let me help you re-bandage it."

Chu Wanning wanted to refuse, but Mo Ran's warm fingers had already wrapped around the bandage. His mouth felt dry and stiff. He couldn't speak, so his lips moved slightly but nothing came out.

The gauze was peeled off layer by layer. Blood had soaked through it, and when it was all torn back, the five holes were piercingly obvious and hideous.

Just looking at it, he shuddered. It was many times more serious than the would on Shi Mei's face.

Mo Ran didn't know what he was looking at. He was stunned, then suddenly asked softly: "Does it hurt?"

Chu Wanning lowered his long and slender eyelashes, and simply said lightly: "It's fine."

Mo Ran said: "I'll be gentle."

Chu Wanning didn't know what he was thinking, and suddenly his ear flushed a little red. As a result, he got angry with himself again. He thought he was going crazy. All day he had been thinking up such nonsensical thoughts. His expression grew stiff. His temper worsened, and he said dryly, "It's up to you."

The candlelight in the guest room flickered. In the dim light, he could see that he had completely missed some spots with the ointment. Mo Ran was honestly speechless. He thought it was a miracle that Chu Wanning was still alive and healthy today.

"Shizun."

"Hmm?"

"What happened to you today at the Chen house? Why did you suddenly lash out and hit someone?" He asked while applying some ointment.

Chu Wanning was silent for a while, then replied: "I was angry."

Mo Ran asked: "Why were you so angry?"

Chu Wanning didn't want to trouble his disciple, so he told Mo Ran a brief and concise version of Luo Xianxian's story. After Mo Ran listened to the story, he shook his head: "You're stupid. In this kind of situation, even if you're angry, you shouldn't confront them about it to their face. If it were me, I would've made a mess of things and lie to them that the ghost had been removed, and then pat their asses and leave, letting them fend for themselves. Just look at you making a scene over such a rotten man. You knew you probably wouldn't get through to him, and then you missed and wounded Shi Mei--"

Halfway through the sentence, Mo Ran abruptly stopped. He stared silently at Chu Wanning.

He tied the bandage carefully. He was a little forgetful and he was talking to Chu Wanning like he had when he was 32, pretty cheekily.

Chu Wanning obviously noticed. He squinted his eyes, looking coldly at Mo Ran. That look resembled a very familiar phrase - "See if I don't whip you to death."

"Uh. . ."

Before his brain had thought up a response, Chu Wanning has already begun speaking.

He said indifferently: "Is Shi Mingjing the one I wanted to fight?"

When Shi Mei was mentioned, Mo Ran's originally calm mental state started to shift and his tone hardened: "Isn't he the person you hit?"

Chu Wanning did regret hitting him, but he couldn't admit it. At this moment, his face was sullen and he didn't say a word.

Chu Wanning was the stubborn type. Mo Ran was the lovesick type. Their eyes meet and sparks crackled. The atmosphere that had just eased a little became hopelessly stagnant again.

Mo Ran said: "Shi Mei didn't do anything wrong. Shizun, you hurt him by accident. Don't you want to say that you're sorry?"

Chu Wanning narrowed his eyes dangerously: "Are you questioning me?"

". . . I'm not." Mo Ran paused. "I just feel bad that he got hurt but never got an apology from Shizun."

Under the candlelight, the handsome and youthful teenager finished wrapping the last bandage on Chu Wanning's wound and carefully tied a knot. It may have looked like the scene was quite warm, but the mood between them had changed. Especially Chu Wanning; his chest felt like a jar of vinegar had exploded in it. The feeling of sourness was overwhelming and he felt angry and annoyed.

Apologize?

How do you even spell that word? Who'll teach him how to write?

Mo Ran said: "It'll take half a year for the wound on his face to heal. When I gave him some medicine just now, he still told me not to blame you. Shizun, he doesn't blame you, but do you think that justifies what you did?"

This sentence was tantamount to adding fuel to the fire.

Chu Wanning had been enduring it but he finally couldn't hold it back. He suppressed his voice and muttered: "Get out."

Mo Ran: ". . ."

Chu Wanning exploded: "Get out!"

Mo Ran was forced out and the door slammed shut in his face, almost clamping his fingers. Mo Ran was furious. Just look at this! What kind of person was this? All this just to avoid apologizing? Such cherished and treasured pride. What was so difficult about saying sorry? All he needs to do is move his mouth. This Venerable One was the Emperor TaXian, yet this Venerable One didn't hesitate to apologize to others. As for the Beidou Immortal, half of his words were inexplicable, as if he had swallowed them. What a ridiculous temper!

No wonder no one cared about such a handsome face!

It was a waste of time. He deserved to stay single for the rest of his life!

Since Chu Wanning would rather ignore him and give him a closed-door to talk to, then of course the high and mighty cultivation emperor, the emperor of the human world, wouldn't lose any sleep over this. Although he was tenacious and as hard to get rid of as a piece of sticky candy, he stuck to Shi Mei, not his shizun.

He immediately left without a care and went to join Shi Mei.

"Why are you back so soon?" Shi Mei was in the midst of lying down to rest when he saw Mo Yan come in. He froze and sat up, long strands of ink hair hanging all over the place. "How's Shizun?"

"Very good. His temper is as strong as usual."

Shi Mei: ". . ."

Mo Ran brought over a chair and sat on it backwards. His hand rested on the back of the Taishi chair, a lazy smile hanging on the corner of his mouth. His gaze flicked across the appearance of Shi Mei's soft and long hair.

Shi Mei said: "Why don't I go and see him. . ."

"Don't think too much about it." Mo Ran rolled his eyes. "He's terrible."

"Did you make him angry again?"

"He needs someone to provoke him? He makes himself angry. I think he's made of wood considering he's so flammable."

Shi Mei shook his head, not knowing whether to laugh or cry.

Mo Ran said: "Get some rest. I'll borrow the kitchen downstairs and make you some food."

Shi Mei said: "What's the fuss? You haven't closed your eyes all night. Aren't you going to sleep?"

"Haha, I am in good spirits." Mo Ran laughed. "But if you can't bear me leaving, I can stay with you for a while until you fall asleep."

Shi Mei hurriedly waved his hand and said warmly: "No, if you have to look at me like this, I won't be able to sleep either. You should go to bed early. Don't exhaust yourself."

The curvature in the corners of his mouth stiffened slightly. Mo Ran was a little sad.

Although Shi Mei treated him kindly, he always maintained such a distant attitude. It was the attitude of someone who was obviously close at hand, but as the moon in the mirror and the flower in the water, he could be seen but not obtained.

". . . Okay." In the end, he just tried to cheer up and laughed. Mo Ran's smile was very bright. When he wasn't completely evil, he was actually pretty silly and cute. "Call me if you need anything. I'm either right next door or downstairs."

"Okay."

Mo Ran raised his hand, wanting to touch his hair, but he held back. He spun his hand around in the air and scratched his head.

"I'm leaving."

Outside of the room, Mo Ran couldn't help but sneeze.

He sniffed.

Because Caidie Town produced incense, the price of all the different kinds of incense wasn't as expensive, so the inn wasn't stingy with it. Each room was lit with a long branch of special incense; one can ward off evil spirits, another can dehumidify, the last one can give the room a nice fragrance.

But as soon as Mo Ran smelled the incense, it made him uncomfortable. But if Shi Mei liked it, he would endure it.

Coming downstairs, Mo Yan wandered over to the innkeeper, slipped him a silver ingot. He squinted his eyes and said with a smile: "Innkeeper, do me a favour."

The innkeeper looked at the silver ingot and smiled more politely at Mo Ran: "What is this immortal gentleman's request?"

Mo Ran said: "I see that not many people come here to eat breakfast. I wanted to discuss that with you. I want to use the kitchen this morning. Please let the other guests know."

How much money would breakfast make him? It would probably be impossible to earn a silver ingot in half a month. The innkeeper immediately smiled and agreed, leading the swaggering Mo Weiyu into the kitchen of the inn.

"You want to cook by yourself? It's better to let the chef in our inn do it. He's very talented."

"No need." Mo Ran smiled. "Have you heard of the Jade Wine Building in Xiangtan?"

"Ah. . . Is that the famous music performance building that started getting popular more than a year ago?"

Mo Ran: "Yeah."

The boss took a peek outside and confirmed that his wife was busy and couldn't overhear. He snickered and said, "Who hasn't heard of it? It's the most famous restaurant on the Xiangjiang River. It used to have a lead musician there. It’s a pity it's so far away, otherwise, I'd want to listen to her play a song."

Mo Ran laughed: "Thank you for the compliment. I'll pass it onto her."

"Pass it on?" The innkeeper was puzzled. "Do you know her?"

Mo Ran said: "More than just know."

"Wow. . .You don't say? But you cultivators can be. . . well. . ."

Mo Ran interrupted him with a smile: "Other than the lead musician, do you know anything else?"

"Hmm. . . Their food was said to be a must."

The corners of Mo Ran's mouth curled higher and he smiled brighter. He skillfully picked up the kitchen knife and said: "Before I took up cultivation, I was a cook in the kitchen in the Jade Wine Building for several years. You said that your chefs make delicious dishes. Whose is better, theirs or mine?"

The innkeeper was even more shocked, and stammered out: "You're really. . . really. . ."

He couldn't get the words out.

Mo Ran gazed at him with narrowed eyes. His smile was barely holding back his smug and cocky demeanour: "You can leave. This chef is going to cook something."

The innkeeper didn’t know that he was talking to the former Lord of Darkness, and he put on a cheeky expression: “I've heard a lot about Jade Wine House's exquisite desserts. I wonder if you would let me have a bite once they're ready?"

He didn't think this was too high of a request. Mo Ran would definitely agree.

Who would've expected Mo Ran to squint his eyes and say with a smirk: "You want some?"

"Hmph!"

"Really?" Mo Ran snorted. He was bursting with pride. He scoffed: "You think I would cook for just anyone? This Venerable One is doing this just for Shi Mei. If not for him, I wouldn't even be lighting a fire to cook. . ."

He flipped a radish over and started to slice it, muttering.

". . ." The innkeeper slumped defeatedly. He rubbed his hands and stood there awkwardly. He halfheartedly chuckled at him then left.

He was also muttering to himself.

This Venerable One? For someone this young, his spiritual core hasn't even fully formed yet. He thought about his chatter and how he was probably referring to his elder sister disciple, but there was no female cultivator among the group who walked with him today.

The innkeeper rolled his eyes.

This person must be deluded.

Mo Ran stayed busy in the kitchen for several hours. It was almost noon when the work was finished, and he rushed upstairs to wake Shi Mei up.

When passing by Chu Wanning's room, he slowly came to a stop.

Should he ask if he wanted to eat together. . .

Thinking of Chu Wanning's harsh temperament, Mo Ran's heart skipped a beat, his face full of contempt.

No, no, no. He only had a few portions. There wasn't enough to share with him!

#2ha novel #2ha translation #2ha #the husky and his white cat shizun translation #the husky and his white cat shizun #english translation #chinese bl #chinese novel #bl novel #yaoi novel #yaoi #danmei novel #danmei #chu wanning #mo ran #ranwan

157 notes · View notes