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violetsreadinglist · 2 days
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18+ MINORS AND THOSE WITHOUT AGE IN BIO DNI
YOU WILL BE BLOCKED
warnings: war (Korean)
AN: I’ve been meaning to add Hawkeye to my list of characters. He’s always been a comfort to me, since I was incredibly little. I just made a decision that’s gonna hopefully make my life a little easier and better so here he is. My biggest comfort.
I pulled the little white cap off my head as I leaned against the wall. 50 hours straight in the OR. A hand on my shoulder made me open my eyes and turn towards the person behind me. A tired smile spread across my face.
“How you feeling kid?” Trapper squeezed my shoulder before stripping off his own scrubs.
“Exhausted.” I laughed as I finished up removing my own. “Like I should have been on that table instead of those kids.” Trapper nodded as I started scrubbing my hands, hoping the water would stop turning red the longer I washed up. A hand between my shoulder blades made me relax. “How you feeling Hawk?” A kiss was pressed to my neck before he took the sink next to mine.
“Like we should just curl up and forget the war.” I nodded in agreement. “You going back to the swamp or am I going to have to sneak in?”
“Swamp.” I dried off and wrapped my arms around Hawkeye’s middle. Laying my head on his back, I closed my eyes and nearly sagged against him.
“You two look like you could use some R and R.” Hawkeye huffed before turning around. Careful of how I was holding him, he started to remove his scrubs.
“You could say that again Henry.” Hawkeye intertwined his fingers with mine before gently leading me around him. He pulled me into his chest and leaned his head against mine.
“Does that mean we get some?” I mumbled out. Henry laughed before shaking his head.
“Head back to the swamp. Get some rest. We won’t get you unless we really need you.” Hawkeye mock saluted him before crouching down.
“Your ride.” He joked as I climbed on his back. We made our way out of post op and headed in the direction of the Swamp. I ducked my head as we went in. Hawkeye put me on the bed gently before securing the door. “Just making sure Frank can’t get in.” I nodded as I pulled the blanket back on his cot. “Trap has rooms somewhere else tonight after his rounds.”
“So we truly do have the place to ourselves for once.” Hawkeye smiled as he sat down next to me. “That’s a first.” We shuffled around and I laid against Hawkeye. I turned towards him and pressed a kiss to his cheek. A cheesy grin spread over his face.
“What was that for?” He asked, grin still in place.
“Can’t I kiss the person I love?” He shook his head.
“I suppose.” He leaned down and kissed me. “But only if I can kiss the person I love.” With matching smiles, we settled down and drifted off, only being bothered when Trapper led Frank away from the Swamp.
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violetsreadinglist · 2 days
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Fade out, fade in
just a little sweet, panicy something set during the first episode of season 6.
Charles Emerson Winchester III x Fem!reader, Hawkeye PiercexFem!Reader, just something sweet, no warnings, Reader insert, no use of YN
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You opened the swamp's tent door, still in your class A's from travelling back from your R&R in Seoul.
You just want to drop off the requested items you picked up for both the man before you would head over to the office and report back to Colonel Potter. And handing him the scotch you bought at the PX for him, as thanks that he had let you leave so quickly and rushed without asking further questions.
Questions why you dropped the clamp in OR as Radar announced the name of the temporary replacement for Burns. Why the hell you didn't wanted to meet the one and only Charles E. Winchester. And you were beyond grateful for that.
"Hey guys," you announced your arrival cheerfully, truly happy to be back again. "How are you? You survived all three days with Winchester? Or did he leave some scratches on your ego, Hawk?", you grinded over at the black-haired surgeon who had a Martini glass at his lips and sent you a side eye.
"Nice to have you back, Sunny", BJ said as he gave you a side hug due to his own martin glass in the other hand.
"Medical journal for BJ," you said as you started to dig through your satchel and handed him the brown paper envelope, " and a little plush panda for Erin." "I didn't order that," he said. "I know, but I couldn't resist him. He's so cute. Let me spoil your little girl", you smirked at him as you tossed the plushie over to him.
"Thanks," he pecked your cheek before placing the animal in his footlocker to send it out with the next package addressed to Frisco.
You turned your attention over to Hawkeye, who had emptied the glass and bounced excited on his cot. Like a little boy. You reached for the other envelope, on which you hand scribbled "Hawk".
"I never ever going to take requests from you again, Pierce. That's embarrassing to buy, especially as a woman."
"You really bought them? I thought you would chicken out in the last moment." "I almost did, but with a little liquid courage, I managed to buy them. But never ever again, my friend."
"I would have let you off the hook if you would have just told us what all the panic around that name meant." "Let me keep some secrets from you both, will you? And since he is already gone by now, I can keep that secret for another time."
They both exchanged a look and mischievous grin. A grin that you saw often enough, and the one you don't like to see.
" What?"
"Nothing, just having a little secret ourselves", BJ casually said while unpacking the journal.
You gave them both a side eye, not liking the whole situation. As much as you liked the two surgeons, you also knew whenever to mistrust them. They were up to something.
"Whatever, if you excuse me, I have to report back to the colonel and hand him the little thanks I bought him." You held up the wrapped bottle and made your way out of the swamp.
Both men had dropped their things to follow you. You didn't like that. They were up to something.
You entered Radar's office only to find it empty. But from the Colonels office emerged hissed voices. It took you a second to sort out the two different people.
One was Colonel Potter, a very angry Colonel, just to say. The other one, oh no, belonged to the one person you didn't want to meet. The one man, your mother, and stepfather wanted you to marry. The fiancé you ran away from, hours before the official engagement party had been held.
You froze in tracks and made a sharp turn on your heel only to be met by two doctors with shit eating grins that blocked your way out to the compound.
"Let me out, guys. please." You tried to squeeze through a little gab between them to reach freedom. Your heart was beating in panic. Every second that passed could be one too much. The door could open any moment and force you to deal with stuff you left behind two years ago.
"No way, sweetheart. Only if you tell us." Hawk looked down at you. Confident as ever, since he clearly held the upper hand.
"No." You pushed again, without chance.
"Please? I cover your tabs in the O club for one night?"
"Tempting but no", BJ said.
You squirmed in panic as you heard footsteps in the office, and recognised that the talking stopped.
"Shit," you muttered and looked at the only other escape route through Post Op.
You placed the paper wrapped bottle next to Radars typewriter and made a sprint for the door before both men could react.
You made it to the door, even managed to open it halfway as Colonel Potter's voice made you stop in your tracks.
"Ah, Lieutenant, I see you are back from R&R?" You turned and saluted to him.
"Yes, Sir. I didn't want to interrupt your meeting and report back at a later time. Thank you again for the leave. A little thanks for you." You went over the desk to pick up the bottle again, holding it out to your Colonel.
He unwrapped it and smiled warmly at you.
"Thank you very much, Lieutenant"
He twirled the bottle in his hands, not thinking of dismissing you anytime soon. Hawk and Beej could feel and see your discomfort and the urge to flee. But the weren't any help, and just heard them whispering and giggling at the door.
"Colonel, would you excuse me, please? I would like to get changed out of my Class As. I have post Op duty with Dr. Pierce in half an hour.", you tried as polite as possible.
"Not with me, Sweets", Hawkeye said. You turned to them. "BJ then?" "Nope", he shook his head, grinning from ear to ear, like Pierce. You already knew the answer as you asked, "Colonel Potter?", and the man in question shook his head equal to the men before.
The three men had been plotting together, just because they wanted to know. Damn them.
"The Doctor in question would be me, Lieutenant. I'm afraid we haven't met yet. Major Charles Emerson Winchester, the 3rd."
Slowly you turned around to face him. He hadn't recognized your voice yet. Or maybe he hadn't cared enough to try. Due to the sharp tone, you had heard earlier he clearly didn't want to be here.
"I think we know each other well enough, Charles." But noteless you grabbed the offered hand. Politely accepting his offer.
He just looked at you, like he just saw a ghost, but held onto your hand. After he collected his well-mannered behaviour, he brought your knuckles up to his lips to press a feather light kiss to them.
"What a pleasure for sore eyes, my dear. Now this place got a little more bearable."
That was not what you expected as a reaction from him and neither from yourself. Instead of having a panic attack you just accepted your fate. He didn't seemed to be angry at you for breaking the engagement of the year, of Boston's upper class. Or that you brought him and his family in the situation of explaining why the wedding was cancelled.
But he would bring it up, surely, he would. You knew him that well.
You felt the stares of the three men burning in your back. Expecting something. But you wouldn't give them the satisfaction of revealing your secret yet.
"If you all excuse me now, I go change, as I said, to be in time for duty with Major Winchester." "let me accompany you to your tent, dear." "Thank you, Charles", you said polite as you exited the office through the door, he held open for you, like the Gentleman he was raised.
As you were out of hear range from the other man he asked, "This is it? You left Boston and all the comfort that could had been yours for this... garbage dump?"
Ah, he was bitter. Even after two years. You hurt his Ego by running away.
"Yes, I did leave for that. And believe it or not, I think I'm happier here than I would ever have been in Boston." His answer was a sarcastic huff.
"How could you be happy here? Its dirty, dangerous and so far from civilisation, it's a wonder these people here wear proper clothing."
He hurted you with that. These people were your family, you came here almost at the beginning, just three months after Hawkeye had reported for duty at the 4077th. This place merged into a home over time.
"These people you are talking about, had become my family. So, stop bickering, Charles."
"Your family, pff, your real family is sitting in Boston, not knowing where you are. Just knowing that you made the stupid decision to join the Army nurse corps.", he hissed through gritted teeth.
"Yes, I didn't said where I was going to be assigned, because I know how people like you would react. Writing letters and making calls to the so important people they know to get me transferred back to the states, as close to home as possible. And I didn't want that. And you are wrong. one person knew where I was."
"And that would be?"
"Honoria knew. I got a letter from her just before I left for Seoul." "My own sister kept a secret from me?", he was really surprised.
"Yes, I needed someone that wouldn't turn me in. And I trust her with my life. Thats my tent, if you excuse me now, Major." You opened your tent door as he bid his goodbye for now. You would see each other in about 20 minutes and had to life through a 6-hour shift together. You only hoped that Kelly or someone other from your bunkmates would have duty with the pair of you.
Charles had strolled away in the swamp's direction, and you gave him one last look. His face had turned in a slightly red, as he was clearly upset. It would take time to settle that with him, that for sure. With a look back at office door, you saw the, now not so happy looking, faces of Potter, Hunnicutt and Pierce. Clearly, they watched the little argument you had with Charles.
You gave them a last glance as you wiped a tray tear of your face, the last thing you saw before closing was Hawkeye mouthing "sorry".
The following shift ran smoother than you had hoped for. You made your handover rounds with Charles and Colonel Potter, who was on duty last. Charles polite as ever, holding his composure perfectly.
After you had been off duty your nerves were on the edge of bursting. You yearned for a drink but the Officers club was still closed and not to be open for another three hours. Your feet carried you automatically to the swamp to take a sip from still. You know you would run into Charles at the attempt of getting a drink but that was a risk you were willing to take.
And as you expected, he was already there lounging in his desk chair, cognac glass in hand. He looked up at you as you entered the Officers tent.
"Ah, I assume you came to apologise, my dear?", he asked with the self-sufficient grin on his lips.
You held your head high as you answered, "No, just seeking some company from this side of that tent", you gestured to the still's side, where a happy grinning Hawkeye sat on his cot, writing a letter to probably his father.
The horror on Charles face was priceless. That you preferred Hawkeye and his moonshine over his company and expensive liquor.
You ignored his gasps and let yourself plop down on the chair next to Hawks cot. "You mind if I pour myself a drink?" "Only if you refill mine, Sweets"
You both heard Charles suck in air at the nickname.
He reached over to place his glass on the table, whispering "we are sorry for cornering you", before sitting back on his bed. You just nodded.
After you handed him his martini glass, you said, "You get revenge for that, you know". "I know, cheers to that", he clicked your glasses together. The first sip burned down your throat just fine. You drank it that often by now, it barley bothered you by it strength.
You joked around and talked with Hawkeye, playing darts, and read through the last letter that Hawkeye's dad had sent. Pierce must have mentioned in his last letter that you had been down with the flu, like so many others.
His get well soon wish warmed you heart. You pressed a lipstick stain to his current letter to send it as thanks to Main.
But at some point, you had the urge to tell him what your fuzz was all about. You had been through hell together more often than you could count on your fingers. You alone volunteered to go to the Aid Station with him 5 times.
Sure, he had hit on you in your early time at camp, and you had been at the movies together a few times. And like all good dates ended, these ended with kisses. but nothing more. You two settled with a good, reliable friendship.
While nursing your third, and last drink, you knew your limits for that devil's brew, you looked over at Hawk who was playing solitary with the cards. Charles had left to take a shower a few minutes prior.
"You want to know what my panic was all about?" He stopped the card he wanted to place mid-air and looked over at your lightly flushed face. The alcohol made your cheeks burn in a deep pink.
"Sure, but only if you are content with sharing. don't feel pressured." "I want to. Should have done that earlier. But you have to promise me to keep it to yourself, OK?"
He looked at you wide eyed. "Ok, you can tell Beej, but no one else. I will explain my strange behaviour to the colonel myself tomorrow." Hawkeye looked relieved that he could at least share the news with their friend.
"My ears are all yours, go on Sweets", he scooted closer to your chair to capture every word that dropped from your lips. Such a sucker for gossip and News.
"As you know, I'm also from Boston. My mother married again after leaving my father. My stepfather is a wealthy fabricant from Boston's upper class. He tolerated that I wanted to go to nursing school after I graduated school. At some point my family even supported my decision, saying it would do me good to blow of the steam I had and learn something I can use later when I'm married and have children."
You sipped at your drink. Hawk just nodded.
"They started to get cranky when I applied for a job at the Boston general, instead of playing the nice, well-behaved debutante like they expected. So, I continued working at the hospital, even moved out of my family's home for a while. Until my stepfather and mother stood at my doorstep with the request that I should get married and they already arranged an engagement that fitted my status."
Hawkeye swallowed hard on his drink, almost spitting it out. He coughed hard and you petted his back.
"Better?"
he nodded.
"Good, and that fiancé, that I already knew, since we worked together at the hospital, was one Charles E. Winchester. I didn't think they would come up with him. Sure, our parents had good connections and all, but it didn't crossed my mind that they would choose him, alone due to the age difference we have. Nine years are nine years. "
"Why didn't you say no?"
"Thats not what was expected from me, sadly. Say yes, or be a disappointment to the family. Thats how it works, Hawk. I met with Charles a few times outside of work, for coffee, lunch or dinner. to get to know each other better, you know. At least I wanted to know the man I was going to marry. But shortly before our engagement party he made it very clear that he expected his wife to stay at home. like a good little wife, not one that was independent and working.
That was what I couldn't live with. I went to nursing school to help people, not to sit a to big home in Beacon Hill, with a bunch of children waiting for the glorious husband to come home in the evening.
Luckily, that day before the party an army recruiter came to the hospital asking for volunteers. I was the first one to sign that paper, went to the personal chef to quit my job and then the apartment, packed my stuff and left. I asked him to meet for lunchbreak to tell him in person, my parents had gotten a letter, explaining everything. Let's say, he wasn't a fan of being ditched. He was angry at me for leaving him. He couldn't understand why I was running away from all the wealth and easy living he had to offer. And especially running away to the army with a war going on."
You drowned the last of your drink and placed the glass at the table before leaning onto Hawks shoulder. He wrapped his free arm around your waist to pull you closer to his side.
"You understand why I didn't wanted to meet him? And now I'm stuck with him again. Maybe not engaged to him but forced to live with him here. Maybe I should apply for transfer."
"NO!"
"That was quick", you giggled.
"What is "NO"?", BJ asked as he strolled into the tent to take a break from duty.
"I'm confident Hawkeye will tell you soon enough Beej. I retire for the night. Night guys. Thanks for listening Hawk." you kissed his cheek before rising from his cot.
You didn't saw the light blush on his cheeks as you left the Swamp.
Charles was on his way back from the shower, wrapped in a fluffy robe and towel around his neck when he saw you leaning against Pierce's shoulder. He took a step back into the shadow of the next tent to watch and listen a bit longer. You looked so relaxed with that dirty rat of a man. You never had been like that back in Boston when he took you out for dinner to the finest restaurants the city had to offer. You were always quiet and reserved.
Maybe he had tried too hard to make you like him. He was well aware that the set engagement wasn't out of affection for each other. It would have been the connection between two wealthy families, even if you were just the stepdaughter of James Howard.
Maybe he was the one that should offer an apology. Asking for a transfer out was impossible for him, Colonel Potter made that clear. But he could try and make up for how he overreacted two years ago. He knew he had cornered you against the wall that evening, and you only chance out had been running away. But what else he should have done. His family expected that the future Mrs. Winchester stayed home and tended to the family and estate. He couldn't go against that. That where set rules.
He stepped even deeper in the shadow as he saw Hunnicutt coming over to their quarters. He didn't wanted to be caught as a creep, watching other people from the shadows.
As you said goodnight, he went back to make it look like he just was on his way to the tent. He saw you leaning in to kiss his cheek and it stung a little in his chest to see you sharing that little affection so easy with a man like Pierce. He never got a peek to the cheek like that. His had been always quick, and barely a contact of your lips with his skin. He wasn't in love with you, but he had been fond of you. He respected you; you had a sharp mind and were an excellent, hardworking nurse. It had been always a pleasure working with you. He even had let you ask questions from time to time while operating together. A privilege not many nurses had gotten, even before the marriage had been set.
You stepped back at the fresh air in perfect timing to run into the man you wanted to avoid. A mumbled "Goodnight Charles" was everything you got over your lips.
"Wait, please. I want to say something. "
You turned around to face him. He took your hands in his and looked down at you.
"I'm sorry." You blinked. An apology from Charles? That was a first.
"For what?" "For my outburst earlier, and for the way I treated you when you broke off the engagement. I shouldn't have been such a duchebag." "Such a word out of your mouth, Charles?", you laughed softly. "Yes, special occasions need special vocabulary. Do you think you can work with me?" "I think I can. We did before, didn't we? Apology accepted." "Colleges?" "What about friends, Charlie?" "Only if you never call me that again."
Maybe the Korean countryside would do him something good, take him back to the ground and real-world problems.
After all you liked him and he was a brilliant doctor.
"May I escort you to your tent, Lieutenant?" "You may, Major."
After arriving at your door for the second time together that day he even received the peek to the cheek he wanted all the time you spent together at Boston. A real kiss to his stubbled cheek.
"Goodnight, Charles." "Sleep well, my dear."
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violetsreadinglist · 2 days
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Support
Hawkeye Pierce x Reader (platonic)
Summary:sometimes you don't need words to support your friends
Warnings: mentions of surgery, anxiety, scratching, chewing on fingernails, food with bad texture, heat exhaustion
Notes: this story is the result of me projecting. It's also the middle of the night right now where I live.
It had been an especially hard round of surgeries. Normally you would be too tired afterwards to think about it before falling asleep, but today you were filled with nervous energy you hadn't felt in a long time. Your anxiety was already bad in general which wasn't a big surprise considering the situation, but today it was even worse. You started scratching your arm excessively and even though your nails were short from chewing on them, you already had left some marks. You rounded a corner and walked right into Hawkeye. He looked at you and understood what was going on in a split second. Hawkeye opened his arms to offer a hug and you accepted. You gripped the fabric of his jacket tightly while he held you close and lightly rocked the both of you back and forth.
Hawkeye and you weren't really on good terms with the mess tent food. He couldn't stand the underwhelming lack of variety and you suspected him to dislike the texture too. You couldn't stand most textures and it was obvious to a point where Igor automatically knew what to put on your tray and what not to put on your tray. He also made sure that your different portions of food didn't come into contact. With Hawkeye it was a different story. He wouldn't admit what his problem with the mess tent food was, thus Igor couldn't help him. You had seen Hawkeye earlier when he had left, his food remaining uneaten. And you knew about one major issue that you shared with him: sometimes you needed crunchy food. The mess tent food was always mushy. Mushy food did not crunch. You searched the camp back and forth and finally found Hawkeye, hungry and grumpy, in the very back of the supply tent on a pile of blankets. You took off your boots and sat down cross legged next to him. He looked at you with the teary eyes and cranky expression of someone who was hungry but couldn't bear the food that was available. You held out the recently opened package of crackers that your aunt had sent to you. He gladly took one. You placed the box in his lap and offered your now empty hand. And so you sat for a while, holding hands and crunching on crackers.
You were aimlessly walking through camp. It was obvious that you shouldn't be walking around. Recently you had suffered a case of heat exhaustion and luckily you had been treated before it turned into something even worse, but now you were lost. You should've stayed in bed like Henry ordered you to do but it had gotten too much. You had been alone with your thoughts for too long and needed to get away from them. It didn't work that well considering that you carried your brain around with you in your head at all times. The thoughts were there. When you passed by the swamp, Hawkeye was on his feet instantly. He asked what you were doing and why you were wandering around camp while it was obvious that you should rest. You just gripped the sleeve of his jacket. Hawkeye knew exactly what to do. So he gently guided you into the swamp where you immediately sat down on the floor in front of Hawkeye's bed. He sat down next to you and both of you continued just sitting there.
It was obvious to you that something was wrong. Something was wrong, but Hawkeye didn't want to talk about it. He probably didn't know how to talk about it, which was unusual for Hawkeye. He struggled with getting through the day and when it got dark and was time for him to sleep, he couldn't even close his eyes because he was scared of what he would see. The swamp was empty except for Hawkeye. He got up to find you and just a bit later he found you in the supply tent. You were counting bedsheets, but stopped when you noticed him. Hawkeye tried to talk, but all he managed was a whimper, so you took his hand and walked him to the familiar pile of blankets in the corner. You sat down and when Hawkeye laid down with his head in your lap you started stroking his hair. He was going grey already. You hadn't noticed before. All the stress was really getting to him. And so you remained sitting on the blanket pile, stroking Hawkeye's hair until he finally fell asleep.
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violetsreadinglist · 2 days
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Captain Tuttle reloaded, Part 2
M*A*S*H x reader (platonic)
Summary:Reader keeps struggling with seeing Captain Tuttle
Warnings: hallucinations, mentions of surgery, injury and fevers
But as soon as you woke up in the middle of the night he was back. "You shouldn't be up at this hour. You need to rest so you can get better", he was sitting on the edge of your bed in a way that under normal circumstances was reserved for Hawkeye. "I know. I'm a doctor too, you know", you disliked the fact that everyone was acting as if you couldn't diagnose yourself. "I'm well aware of that, I just want to help you". "Of course you want to. You've always just wanted to help others", you looked at Tuttle again. "How do you know that?", he seemed confused. "You died jumping out without a parachute on your way to save people. Honestly, it felt very on brand for you", you still remembered Hawkeye's eulogy from back then.
Suddenly someone shook your shoulder: "(Y/N), wake up". "I'm up, what is it?", you turned around, moved in a way that hurt your leg and almost started crying. Margaret Houlihan was kneeling next to you and now proceeded to check if you still had a fever. "Ma'am?", you could still feel Tuttle looking at you. "(Y/N), do you usually talk in your sleep", she asked. "Not that I'm aware", you didn't, but at least Major Houlihan didn't think you were talking to imaginary surgeons. "Did you have a nightmare?", she covered you with the blanket that apparently had fallen to the ground at some point. "I don't know. I'm sorry if I woke up the others, but I really need to talk to Hawkeye", he would be the only one to consult on this. "You can always talk to me, if it can't wait until tomorrow". "I need Hawkeye, he's the one who cut me open", you cringed at the thought of being on that side of the operation table. "Alright, I'll tell him. Now try and go back to sleep".
The rest of the night went by pretty uneventfully. After her shift had ended, Major Houlihan found Hawkeye in the mess tent: "Pierce, (Y/N) wants to talk to you". "Alright, I'll visit them", he got up from his seat. "Be careful, they might be a bit confused", she didn't want Hawkeye to startle you. "Have there been any changes throughout the night? ", asked Hawkeye. "Not really, but (Y/N) seemed to be distressed. Poor little thing was talking in their sleep the whole night".
-----
"Hot Lips said you wanted to see me", Hawkeye approached you. "Come closer, it's something confidential", you pulled on his hand. He crouched down so he was on eye level with you. "Hawk, I need your help", you paused and looked right past him. "Don't say you ripped your stitches open", he tried to see if there was any blood on your leg but you held him back. "It's worse. I'm seeing Captain Tuttle". "You mean Tuttle, my old imaginary friend?", Hawkeye looked around. "He's right behind you, filling out paperwork. Six foot nine, auburn hair and everything", you held onto Hawkeyes arm. "Did you hit your head out there", he started examining your head but you stopped him. "I think it's something else", you paused for a moment, "my brain just might be reacting to the excessive stress I was under". "And it reacts by making you see Captain Tuttle", Hawkeye tried to make sense of it all. "When I was a child I always was the first one to get nightmares, this here is just the next step", you tried to think of anything else to say. "You should try and calm down, maybe he'll disappear on his own". "I don't think I can calm down", you watched as Tuttle got up and stretched before checking on your patient once again, "the 4077th is down a surgeon, I have no way of checking on my patient because I can't even get up on my own and I'm interacting with an imaginary surgeon". "You're patient is on his best way to recovery, his fever went down and he'll walk again. He'll go home soon and I'll make sure he's okay". "Are you sure?". "Very sure, but I'm also sure that if you don't calm down you'll never get rid of that fever", he removed his hand from your forehead. You didn't even notice it there and you suddenly felt too tired to argue with him.
"I'll send Klinger over here later, he'll gladly take watch by your bedside if I convince everyone that you can't be alone", Hawkeye left and you fell asleep.
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violetsreadinglist · 2 days
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Captain Tuttle reloaded, Part 1
M*A*S*H x reader (platonic)
Summary: Reader gets injured, their recovery takes a complicated turn when they start hallucinating
Warnings: mentions of injury and surgery, hallucinations, cursing, fever, mentions of war and violence, mentions of throwing up
Notes: probably none of this is medically accurate, got the idea after rewatching Tuttle and it kind of got out of hand so I had to make it multiple chapters
The first thing you saw when you woke up was nothing. The second thing you saw after waking up and blinking a few times was Hawkeye which was weird because you couldn't remember spending the night at the swamp and Hawkeye had no reason to be in your tent this early in the morning. "How's it going?", Hawkeye sat down on the edge of your bed. You looked up and realization hit you.
"How's my patient?", you really wanted to know. "Your patient is alright, he just developed a nasty little fever throughout the night, which is what you both have in common". "I wasn't done with fixing him up out there", you looked around the room some more and relaxed when you saw the boy on one of the other beds. "You fixed him up alright, there's no chance of perfection out there", Hawkeye turned around to your patient. "We were under heavy fire", you closed your eyes, trying hard not to remember it too vividly. "I figured, judging by the amount of shrapnel we took out of your leg". "How long til I can work again?". "How do you already know that it's not enough to send you home?", Hawkeye pulled a blanket over you and it dawned on you that he had changed a bandage without you even noticing. You sure were out of it. "I'm a surgeon too, remember? I know the procedure", you suddenly grew very tired again. "How could I ever forget that...now go back to sleep, I'll visit you later", he got up. "Keep me updated on my patient", you called after him. "Sure thing", and he walked away.
"How are you doing?", you looked around to see who was speaking. "Who are you?". "Don't worry, I know you didn't forget me. It's like Hawkeye said, you all had already forgotten about the sound of my voice very shortly afterward", the person sat down on the floor, "it's alright, I could never be mad at you". "Wait, this can't be happening. This is ridiculous", you really needed to wake up right now. "So you remember me?". " Of course I do. Who could ever forget Captain Tuttle?"
You woke up very confused. You still had a fever, but it didn't feel like it was bad enough to make you delirious. You looked around the room. It seemed pretty normal. At least as normal as it could get here. "Oh, fuck", you turned your head to the other side, you blinked a few times, you turned back and looked at the floor. Tuttle was still there. "This is probably not good", you mumbled to yourself. As an unlucky side effect you had now caught Frank's attention, apparently it was his shift. "Shit", you tried to focus on anything else than Frank or your hallucinations and the only other direction you could look was the ceiling. Frank made his way over to you, every step adding to your annoying headache that almost overshadowed all the other pain. He looked at you in the same condescending way as always: "Captain (L/N), I won't allow this kind of language in here". "Could you please stay quiet", you decided to just close your eyes again, "I'm suffering". "Well, you can keep suffering in silence for now. I just know that once Pierce or McIntyre show back up you will cause chaos once again", he finally stepped away. "Whatever you say, Major", and you went to sleep once again.
You didn't sleep for long though because someone kept reciting poetry and you had a strong feeling that it would be someone imaginary. "Tuttle, I love your poetry, but I'm trying to sleep here", you interacted with him just out of politeness. "I thought you might need some distraction", he kept reading in silence. "I'd appreciate it if you kept out of my field of vision. You're dead and never existed in the first place". "(Y/N), are you okay? I thought I heard some noise from you", Trapper approached you in the same way Hawkeye did earlier. "I'm alright, just a bit foggy", you focused on Trapper in hopes of getting some kind of distraction out of it. "Don't lie to me, just a few hours ago you looked like you've been through the meat grinder", Trapper started poking around on your leg and you hissed in pain, "now be honest (Y/N)". "I haven't been in that much physical pain since I caught pneumonia when I was twelve". "Sounds about right. Your patient might feel the same way, but someday he'll walk again", Trapper read through your paperwork. "I didn't damage his spinal cord?". "You didn't". "I'm sorry for making all of you work extra shifts", it just dawned on you that the 4077th was lacking a surgeon now. "We don't mind, we're just glad you didn't die on our table", Trapper still looked a bit concerned. "I could take my shift, I'm here anyways", you didn't sound very convincing. "Just relax, we'll take care of everything else", he turned to leave, "and don't move too much, you'll regret it later". "If you say so", falling back asleep seemed impossible right now, but there wasn't anything in sight that promised distraction so you decided to just relax like Trapper told you. A few hours went by without incident, but as soon as the next shift began you let out a frustrated groan.
Henry Blake wasn't the only person entering the room. Captain Tuttle followed right after. It seemed like he had remembered that you wanted him to stay silent though. He was now watching over your patient while Henry was checking the boy's bandage. It grew increasingly louder and you weren't sure if it was caused by people having actual conversations or because you had gotten more noise sensitive after last night's incident.
Your mood changed for the better when you saw your best friend approaching: "Klinger, over here!". You didn't consider how much the movement that came with getting his attention would actually hurt so you let out a rather pathetic sounding whimper right afterwards. "There you are, I worried about you the whole night through", he looked at you, concern still showing in his eyes. "I told you not to worry about me when I went out there", you didn't sound very convincing. Klinger would be fussing over you like a mother hen for the next few weeks, you could already see it coming. "Klinger, I have to ask you a favor". "What is it?". "Would you help me take a walk outside", you hoped a change in environment would make Tuttle go away, who right now made his rounds, checking on every single patient. "I'm not sure about this, your leg is heavily injured and Hawkeye sewed it up not even a whole day ago". "No, I'm ready. Just trust me on this one", you really needed to try this. "Should I trust you as my friend or as a doctor", he didn't look very convinced. "Probably both. I'll just have to convince Henry to clear this", you didn't even need to call out for Henry. He wasn't that far away.
Soon he reached your bed: "How are you doing?". "Like Hawkeye butchered my leg". "That is because he did", Henry read through your papers that hadn't really changed throughout the past few hours. "Henry, I have to ask you a question". "Go ahead". "Could I make a trip outside? I think I'll go insane if I spend another minute in here", you glanced at Tuttle who was now standing right next to Henry. "If this is another try of you getting a section 8 and trading with Klinger it won't work", stated Henry. Captain Tuttle nodded in agreement. "It isn't, I promise. I just really need some fresh air". "The fact that you're a doctor doesn't mean you get out of being watched after surgery", he stated. "Klinger will go with me", Klinger nodded in agreement to back you up. "Alright. Corporal, you'll make sure that (Y/N) doesn't try to take a step on their own. They're glued to a wheelchair", Henry gestured around. "Yes, sir", Klinger already got up to get a wheelchair, "I'll make sure they don't try anything". So Klinger took you to the mess tent. You sat down at a table. "Do you want to eat anything?", Klinger asked in the same worried tone as earlier. "I don't think so, I'd throw up", you already felt it coming, food wouldn't do any good right now. "Then we'll just keep sitting here and the second it gets too much I'm taking you back to post op", he retrieved a set of cards from out of his pockets. "Thanks for getting me out of there", you started a game of go fish. "Anything for you". "I think you did everyone else a favor too". "What do you mean?". "I might be a decent doctor, but I'm a very bad patient", you remembered all the previous times you had been sick. Cooperating has never been your strength. You spent almost an hour in the mess tent before you were ready to fall asleep right on the spot. You let your head drop onto the table when someone sat down heavily next to you: "I think you should go back to bed". "Yeah, probably", you answered to the air next to you. "(Y/N), do you need a break", Klinger's hand rested on your shoulder. "Please", you had already shut your eyes again. So Klinger took you back and tucked you in. The next few hours went by in a haze, but at least Tuttle had stayed at the mess tent.
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violetsreadinglist · 2 days
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Dating BJ Hunnicutt Would Include…
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A/N: In this house we love and respect Peg Hunnicutt so in these headcanons BJ isn’t married when he comes to the 4077th. 
You were one of the first people he met when he came to the 4077th and you were immediately taken with the fresh faced, kind eyed San Francisco surgeon.
Being there for each other when you break down over things being too much. 
Him making dumb jokes all the time and loving the way he can get you to smile even when you’re rolling your eyes. 
Being best friends with Hawkeye who loves to tease the two of you about your relationship.
Jokingly threatening that you’re going to leave him for Hawkeye. 
He threatens the same thing. 
Getting drunk in the swamp on the worst tasting and strongest booze you’ve ever had after too much death and cold and pain for a lifetime in one day. 
Slow dancing in Rosie’s together.
Teasing him about his mustache when he starts to grow it out. 
Fighting sometimes when you’re both too frustrated and tired with the war and living in camp. 
You’re both stubborn and don’t want to give in and admit you were wrong but also hating fighting with each other more than anything. 
Hawkeye third wheeling constantly. Not that any of you really mind so much. 
Sneaking around in the supply closet or an empty tent whenever you can because privacy is a luxury in the crowded camp. 
Even more rare is getting r&r at the same time in Seoul. That is like winning the lottery for the two of you. 
What you don’t know is on one particular trip to Seoul that BJ got he bought a ring. He carries it around with him for safekeeping but the only person who knows is Hawkeye who bugs him about when he’s going to give it to you already almost every day. 
On days where things are slow and you feel like boredom might kill you the two of you and Hawkeye of course will usually play cards or start reading a book out loud. 
On days where the casualties wouldn’t stop coming and you’ve both been on your feet for endless hours you usually end up both collapsing onto a cot together practically lying on each other and falling asleep. 
Seeing the best and worst of each other on almost a daily basis
Breaking the rules and spending the night in the Swamp every few nights because you’re too tired to move to your own tent after a long day or its so cold out that you’d both rather risk getting in trouble than go outside. 
Frank yelling at the two of you almost daily about pda. And by pda I mean a quick kiss or a hug.
BJ is not big on pda at all but he also isn’t afraid to kiss you in public or hold your hand. 
In fact, hand holding is a constant with the two of you. You both are getting pretty good at doing things one handed. 
Forehead kisses in private. 
Being the #1 target/victim of his pranks 
Getting your very own Hawaiian shirt to match him and Hawkeye. 
Him hovering when you are sick or tired
Will do anything to make you smile
Doesn’t admit what’s bothering him when he’s upset just gets snippy and sassy not wanting  to admit what’s bothering him until you drag it out
Describing in detail your hometowns to each other, each of you wanting to know everything you can about the other.
And talking wishfully about being together after the war. 
You’ve never been to California but anywhere with him where there’s not shelling and meatball surgeries sounds like paradise.
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violetsreadinglist · 7 days
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Marvel Headcanon Masterlist
Iron Man
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Tony Stark
What They’re Like As a Dad
Captain America
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Steve Rogers
Cooking Headcanons
Thor
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Thor
Having a Short, Quiet S/O
What He is Like as an Uncle
Loki
Having a Short, Quiet S/O
Stargazing
NSFW Alphabet (18+)
Loki x Sigyn
Masterlist
Doctor Strange
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Doctor Strange
Dating Would Include…
What He’s Like as a Husband
Soulmate AU (When You Write On Your Arm Your Soulmate Sees It)
Doing Laundry
Falling Asleep on Their Shoulder
Ant-Man
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Scott Lang
Being Partners In Crime Would Include…
Scott Really Liking His Cute Neighbor
Spider-Man
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Peter Parker
Peter Brings Tony as a Career Day Parent
Captain Marvel
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NSFW Alphabet (18+)
Comics
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Clint Barton
Dating Would Include…
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violetsreadinglist · 7 days
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Marvel Drabble Masterlist
Doctor Strange
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Doctor Strange
The reader flirts with Strange just cause
“My hobby is making fun of you when you talk.”
Returned from the dead kiss
Returned form the dead kiss 2
Lazy Morning Kisses Before They’ve Even Opened Their Eyes, Still Mumbling Half-Incoherently, Not Wanting To Wake Up
Accidental Witness Kiss
Reader and Strange reunite after the events of Infinity War
“I turned out liking you a lot more that I originally planned.”
Kisses Meant To Distract The Other Person From Whatever They Were Intently Doing
Height Difference Kisses Where One Person Has To Bend Down And The Other Is On Their Tippy Toes
“Stephen, if you hate Tony Stark so much, why are we going to his wedding?”
Doctor Stephen Strange gazed out into the ocean below.
There’s only one bed and we sleep as far away as possible from each other but wake up cuddling
Asking reader out on a date
Tending to clumsy reader’s wounds
Spidey matchmaker
dancing with each other
Thor
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Thor
Thor is having a hard time coping and needs a hug
“Do you ever follow directions?”
Ice-cream Date
Loki
“You are my sunshine.”
A hoarse whisper “kiss me”
“Can you do something for me?” “Anything.” “Get the hell out of here.”
Top of Head kisses
“You couldn’t handle me if I came with instructions.”
“One more chapter.”
Sigyn
Loki x Sigyn Masterlist
Guardians of the Galaxy
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Peter Quill
All Peter and the reader want is a nap
Kraglin
A Ballet Dancer?
Iron Man
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Tony Stark
“Height Difference Kisses Where One Person Has To Bend Down And The Other Is On Their Tippy Toes” kiss
Captain America
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Bucky Barnes
Hold Me
Pulling away from a kiss, whispering words of love against each other’s lips.
A hello/good-bye kiss that is given without thinking - where neither person thinks twice about it.
The Defenders
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Matt Murdock
Height Difference Kisses Where One Person Has To Bend Down And The Other Is On Their Tippy Toes
“We’ll face this together” kisses
Moon Knight
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Steven Grant
Steven protecting you
Yasmine Yosef (OC)
Lost in Moonlight: Masterlist
Comics
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Clint Barton
“We’re not going to steal someone’s dog.”
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violetsreadinglist · 7 days
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Marvel Mobile Masterlist
Doctor Strange
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Soulworld
An Unspoken Thing
Something New
Fair Trade
A Strange Coincidence Masterlist (on hiatus)
I Like Your Voice
Trick or Treat
Cassandra Jackson x Doctor Strange
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The Witch of Hell’s Kitchen Masterlist
Loki
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Magic Hands
Stay With Me
Honesty Does Not Become You
Loki x Sigyn
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Masterlist
Sam Wilson
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Captain America is My Wingman
Spider-Man
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I Promise
Peter Quill
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If Love Were Easy…
Marc Spector/Steven Grant x Yasmine Yosef
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Lost in Moonlight: Masterlist
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violetsreadinglist · 7 days
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౨ৎ masterlist
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⤷﹐threads of fate | geralt x reader
series summary: geralt begrudgingly accepts a monster contract issued to him by a strange girl, thinking it to be an opportunity for some quick coin. nothing goes as planned.
tags: 3rd person pov, monsters, blood, injury, mild gore, magic, alchemy, smut, eventual smut, slow burn, size difference, size kink, bathing/washing.
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chapter 1: redanian ale
chapter 2: sign from the skies
chapter 3: a warm hearth: in progress! (10%)
↷ to be continued...
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violetsreadinglist · 7 days
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the most wonderful time ~ bucky barnes;marvel
word count: 1713
request?: no
description: bucky has his first perfectly at peace christmas since before he became the winter soldier, and it is truly the most wonderful time of the year for him
pairing: bucky barnes x female!reader
warnings: christmas fluff
masterlist (one, two, three)
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Keep reading
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violetsreadinglist · 7 days
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Promises to Keep
Pairing: Geralt x Fem!Reader
Plot:
Geralt is tasked with protecting a princess but his feelings keep poking at him, urging him to shed his tough armour and give in to his heart. But the witcher is a righteous man. He won’t succumb to his feelings so easily. Will he?
Some pining, some fluff that will lead to a “part 2” of this story.
Warnings: A bit of m.at.ure stuff. K.i.d.s better stay away!
Read time: ~15 mins
Note: This story has been based in a timeline before the fall of Cintra, and so, Geralt has not yet started his quest for Ciri. Oh, and he doesn’t fall in love with Yennefer. 😉
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Prologue:
Geralt of Rivia has been tasked with many a difficult missions but the hardest of them all was probably not killing but protecting a person. That person was a princess whose parents had specifically called for Geralt to take their daughter under his wing as Nilfgaard marched towards their doorstep.
The princess could fight; she had been in battles but Nilfgaard had morphed into something entirely different from what the Continent had previously seen. It was as though Hell itself had poured into their army, leaving a trail of ash and blood wherever it went.
And so, turning all cries and protests from the said princess to deaf ears, her parents sent her away, in return of an assurance from her that, should their kingdom fall, she would come back and restore it to its glory, flying their banners from every nook and corner.
They knew she could, they had said.
The journey with Geralt had not been easy, moving from camp to camp, from inn to inn, not to mention the complications of his profession. But time gradually made things easier for them both, eventually bringing them to a point where they could comfortably pose as husband and wife so as to protect her identity, and avail a temporary shelter in a village.
And even though they were living a lie of being a married pair, their hearts often wished to forget reality, and enjoy the bliss of domestic life with one another. To be with each other unconditionally, forgetting all rules and boundaries.
But Geralt was a man of ethics, and she did not want him to bear the burden of guilt just because her stupid heart could not stop fluttering for this kind, brave gentleman with a heart of gold!
And thus, neither, for fear of straining what they already had, could ever utter their feelings to each other. After all, they had promises to keep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A few months ago:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
She hurt herself on the thick leather armour as she flung her arms around his neck. But she did not care. That was a pain she would happily endure if it meant seeing Geralt at her doorstep safe and sound.
He smelled of sweat and blood and the swamp. He probably tasted like it, too. Alright, so what? The man returned after three weeks from the edge of the Continent. And perhaps from the edge of life. She couldn't care less about what he smelled or tasted like. But did he really…? She was very close to confirming her assumption - almost there - when Geralt suddenly remembered his place: the protector of the princess, a mere witcher.
“Princess,” the rich baritone vibrating in her ear woke her up from her purple dream. She could not help but lean back when she found her “husband” doing the same.
Geralt spread his arms slightly, and smiled with that usual softness in his eyes that came to the forefront only when she was around. “Safe and sound. Just like I had promised.”
“I am honoured!” She jested, and stepped inside, making room for Geralt to do the same.
“Give me a minute. I'll draw a bath for you. And once you have cleaned that mess off you, you'll have a warm dinner waiting,” she smiled and turned to make her way to the bath when Geralt gently but firmly held her wrist.
Neither could deny the spark that coursed through their veins at the contact. But neither would confess. Involuntarily, the witcher’s thumb made faint circles over her veins. Once he realised what he was doing, he slowly released her but their fingers lingered over the other’s before finally making some room between them.
Geralt pleaded with her to stop fussing over it all but the woman was ecstatic! Who could stop her from doing everything she could for the man she was falling in love with! Not even the strongest witcher.
And so, she hopped away to prepare a warm bath for him while he busied himself with the relieving task of removing his armour and weapons.
Geralt lay in the bath, pondering over the unsaid things that have been passing between the princess and him. Especially the ones that happened that evening. They had never been this close before, and it only made his breath shallower every time he thought about it. His mind wandered away unleashed every time his drunken heart slipped into fantasies of what could have happened had he not pulled away from her embrace…or what might happen if he allowed himself a bit more liberty with his feelings…
A gentle knock on the door startled him, bringing him back to the reality of the small room lit by two candles, back to the fact that the woman living under the same roof with him was his mission, not his real wife, as the villagers knew her to be. There was no way a witcher could dream of having a wife and a family, let alone with a princess!
“Need anything?” The voice was gentle, happy…it was caring. It made Geralt smile to think that someone cared so deeply for him, that he was actually having a domestic life, even though a fake one.
“Your company would be nice,” he quipped.
Geralt grinned wickedly. He did not need to see her to know the blush creeping up her ears and cheek.
Over the months their relationship - real or fake, whatever that was - had built into a strong bond, one that was made of cares, banters, challenges, huffs (and not just from the witcher), puns of all kinds and fluttering heartbeats. And though neither backed down during the banters or the puns, either one of them definitely ended up with blood rushing up their cheeks.
(Y/N) bit her lip and rolled her eyes. Two could play this game. Taking a deep breath, she cracked the door open. It startled Geralt, and she could tell it without seeing his wide eyes and parted lips.
“I believe you have a lot to talk about from your adventure?” She slowly walked in, eyes straining to look anywhere but at him.
She did not receive an immediate response. How could she! Geralt was spellbound by the boldness of this woman! It was inspired by his own recent boldness, perhaps, he wondered.
He cleared his throat, “Indeed.”
She picked up a small wooden stool, and sat with her back to him. “You were saying?”
“I would detail everything but are you sure you can stomach all that? And before dinner?”
Glimpses from his previous tales crept back, and she gulped at the gory imaginations that his words had painted in her head. Perhaps she could not. But would she confess? No!
“I’m tougher than you think, witcher.”
This was their usual way of addressing each other: “Witcher”, with a sarcastic stress in the middle of the word, and “Princess”, with a vanity enveloping the word.
When they had set out for their journey, she had requested him not to call her “princess”. “I have a name, and I would like to be addressed by it,” she had insisted. But Geralt had decided on maintaining his propriety.
When asked whether he would like to be addressed as Geralt or Witcher, he had simply mumbled, “Whatever you like, Princess.”
“Witcher it is then.”
And that has ever been going on, until recently when some rare moments witnessed them addressing each other by their names, and not what they were to the world.
In the small bathroom now, she heard a slosh behind her, signalling the rise of the large man from his bath. She tried her best to stop her shameless mind from picturing his wet body, dripping with water as he stood and stepped out of the tub, as he reached for the towel nearby and dried himself with it before wrapping it low around his waist. But the quiet of the night made sure that every little sound and movement reached her ears, leaving her a slave to her unabashed imagination.
Geralt grunted, the sound coming from right above her head.
“I know you can’t take it…Princess,” the last word was practically breathed on the shell of her ear.
Leaving her a total mess, Geralt sauntered out of the bathroom with a promise to indulge her in his stories after dinner.
That night, in the faint light of the moon, nimble fingers traced the contours of the witcher’s face as he slept - brows slightly arched, lips parted, face as serene as a dawn in Spring. She watched him breathe peacefully, devoid of the cares of the world, until a small smile cracked at a corner of his mouth. With eyes still closed, he placed a hand on hers and brought it to his lips. A chaste kiss was all it was, and yet it had her heart thundering. He had never - ever - shown any affection other than soft looks and gentle smiles.
“Sleep princess,” he rasped in a sleepy voice.
He opened his eyes once, to watch her smile at him, before holding her hand snuggly and drifting back to sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Present day:
The sound of the door cracking open brought her back to the present. Quickly slipping a little more below the soapy water, she gripped the hilt of her sword.
It was Geralt. The moment he set one foot inside, his eyes went wide. It took him hardly a second to swing on his heels, to look away, but the sinful image had planted itself in his head. Probably for eternity.
“Pardon me. I…I did not know… I thought you were done. I just returned from outside; I did not notice that you were not anywhere else. I…”
“Geralt!” His name. She spoke his name! That, along with her soothing tone put an abrupt end to his string of stammering apologies. “It’s alright. I know you had no ill intentions.”
Shifting uncomfortably on his feet for a couple of seconds, he asked, “Do you need anything?”
Her lips stretched into a smirk as she recalled an old conversation that had occurred under very similar circumstances.
“Your company would be nice,” she quipped, just like Geralt had a few months ago.
The witcher recognised the joke immediately. A small smile escaped his usual serious features.
“I believe you have a lot to talk about your first kill,” he jested just like she had back then.
The sigh that filled the room made Geralt wonder if he had said something uncalled for. She was shaken by the incident but if she was making jokes now, she must be recovering. Right?
“(Y/N),” Geralt called without looking at her, “are you alright?”
“No, if truth be told,” came the confession.
He understood. Keeping his gaze focused on the floor, he took a few large steps until he was standing near the foot of the tub. In one smooth move, he was sitting on the floor with his back to her.
There was something about Geralt that made her feel protected all the time. Even in her most exposed and vulnerable state, she felt safe and comfortable with him around. And it was not just the love she felt for him. It was something else. It was something…very “Geralt”.
“The monsters we kill haunt our minds till long after. You never get used to it no matter how many kills you have made,” he sighed.
(Y/N) listened quietly. He was a man of few words, and at most times it seemed as though he was not even listening. But he always understood every single unexpressed emotion, every single unsaid word that she carried within her.
“Every time I close my eyes or every time I hear something, fear grips me,” she shivered at the thought. “You are right. I'm haunted by its memory, and … I cannot seem to shake the thoughts off. No matter how hard I try! I cannot even be courageous enough to convince myself that it is all in my head!” She slapped the water in frustration.
Unlike the witcher, killing monsters was not her profession nor did she volunteer for it. But what she did volunteer for was accompanying Geralt to a trip to the river caves for some herbs. Despite the witcher’s efforts to shield her inside the safety of their home, she managed to argue her way out of the proverbial safety net. Which is what led to the unforeseen event of her first close encounter with one of the many monsters that had become part of Geralt’s life. It also led her to, for the first time, being at the receiving end of Geralt’s fury for risking her life .
‘You were very courageous back there,” Geralt smiled at the memory of her driving her sword through the neck of the drowner, thus saving his own neck in the process.
“I had to be! Couldn’t just stand there and watch my favourite grumpy fellow die!” She jested about it but a shiver ran up her spine as she spoke. “It was disgusting, you know? I can still feel all the blood and slime on my skin.”
“It was also very brave. You saved my life!”
He had thought that his statement would make her proud but he was met with silence.
She spoke after a while. “You do know that I shall not be able to live anymore if something happens to you, don’t you? I shall only survive.”
Geralt’s heart suddenly felt very heavy in his chest. What she said was known information to him. Somewhere in his soul, he knew that she loved him. But to hear it aloud was totally unexpected.
“I shall be fine, princess,” he used his most assuring voice. “Do not worry about me.”
Unseen by him, a smile formed on her countenance. “I know, witcher.”
“Maybe we could talk about something else?” He suggested. “Take your mind off the monster?”
“Hmm… How is Jaskier?” She suddenly asked.
Geralt almost turned his head towards her in surprise. Almost. She was naked, having a bath, and the first “something else” that came to her mind was the bard??
“Jaskier?” He asked. “You wish to talk about Jaskier now?”
“Well, you wanted to talk about something else!”
Was that jealousy that she was sensing in his huffs? She hoped it was.
“He must be fine. I do not know.” He ended the topic as quickly as it had begun.
“Hmm.”
The princess laid her head back on the tub and closed her eyes. There was a comfortable silence. So comfortable that she did want to leave, did not want to do anything that might disturb the moment. Even though it was getting late. Even though Geralt still had to wash himself.
Geralt still has to wash himself! Shit! He must be hungry!
Her eyes shot open. “I’m sorry, I forgot you have to wash up, too! I shall be quick.”
The sudden splash of water pulled Geralt out of his own reverie, inadvertently causing him to turn around so as to ask her not to hurry. But the sight before him left him speechless. It was fortunate that she was too busy to see him else he would never have been able to face her in shame. Geralt turned back and shut his eyes as soon as he snapped out of his trance. But that did nothing to erase the image imprinted in his mind. Not that he wanted to.
She had pulled herself up slightly, as she tried to reach for the towel on the nearby stool. In the light of the candles, her body glowed golden as water cascaded off every curve of her body… down the side of her neck, her shoulders, two perfect globes that highlighted particularly well in the candlelight, perky nipples that had hardened in the water, the beginning of a lustful waist…
He did not hear her step out of the tub, did not hear the rustle of clothes as she got dressed, no. His mind was replaying the same thing over and over again. There was an evident twitch somewhere down his body. He faintly heard something about dinner and changing the water. The creak of the door pulled him back.
“I shall…” His voice was hoarse. “I shall change the water. You may leave.”
The change in his mannerism surprised her but then both his voice and attitude were gravelly most of the time. With a small “alright”, she exited, leaving him to his thoughts.
Dinner was quiet as Geralt tried to suppress the feelings bubbling inside him. He wanted to look at her and lose himself in her eyes. He wanted to tell her how he felt. Wanted to show her what it meant to unleash months of bridled love that he had been carrying within his entire being. He wanted to…
Gods! There were so many things that he wanted to do. But every time he talked himself into taking one step forward, his reality made him take two steps back.
And so, once again, he retired to bed without telling her anything at all about the whirlwind in his heart.
Geralt woke up sometime in the middle of the night, sensing some movements near him. Once sleep stopped fogging his senses, he realised that it was (Y/N) tossing and turning beside him in her sleep. Not only was she being restless, she was mumbling something incoherent that only got louder with her movements. It hardly took him a couple of seconds to realise that she was having a nightmare!
Geralt tried to wake her up: called her name, shook her. But she was trapped deep in her own head. He thought he heard something like his name but could not be sure. Seeing his efforts go in vain, he took her face in both hands and shouted her name while shaking her once more. He wasn’t sure if it would work but luckily, it did. With wild eyes she stared at him, as if trying to figure out where she was, trying to put up a wall between her horrid imagination and sweet reality. When she finally came around, she threw her arms around Geralt’s neck, causing him to tumble to the mattress with her below. Once again, he fought with himself as a wave of relief washed over him, eventually crashing into a strong desire to keep her encased in his arms and caress her for the remainder of the night.
“I dreamt that you were…” she almost sobbed. “That I had…” She couldn’t bring those bitter words to her tongue.
Geralt understood.
“You will never lose me. I shall always be by your side. I promise.”
In the dark veil of the night, in those weak moments, he made her a promise that even he did not know how he would keep, for she would be married to some royalty some day; she would have to go away, leaving him with his solitude and monsters. He could not keep her to himself nor could he watch her be with somebody else.
But that was a worry for another day. Right then, she was in his arms, and no one else’s. Even if for a moment, she was his. He lay on his side and pulled her to his chest. A hand cradled her head, drawing soothing lines through her hair, until her warm breath on his skin had become stable.
Geralt never seeked help or answers from the gods; he did not believe in them. But as he kissed the crown of her head that night, his lips prayed for her safety and happiness, and if possible, for her to be bound to him for eternity.
He knew he was being selfish. He did not know who heard his prayers or even if there was someone who might hear them. But he whispered them anyway, believing that it was the only way to make his wishes come true.
***
147 notes · View notes
violetsreadinglist · 7 days
Text
Where You Are - Part 5
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Pairing: AU Viking!Geralt x female reader
Series masterlist
Part summary: You're finally back in Geralt's arms.
Word count: ca. 4.6k
Warnings: 18+, NSFW, a ghost story, fluffy fluff, and smut. P-in-v sex.
Author's note: I don't know if I'm more excited or relieved that I finally got around to wrap up this chapter, and I had to get it out before I start overthinking. So. Happy reading, lovelies 💕 I really hope you'll like their reunion!!
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As soon as Geralt notices the shivers rippling through you and how cold your hands feel even through the fabric of his tunic, he tears his lips away from yours. And before you know it, he has maneuvered you onto his lap and stands up with you in his arms.
"Come, Little Bird, let me warm you," he mumbles. 
You, however, find yourself speechless, and you nuzzle your face against his neck, taking in his warmth and the scent of his skin as he carries you to the divan in front of the fireplace. In contrast, your body has decided to shiver uncontrollably, and your teeth chatter the beat in time to it.
As he puts you down on the soft surface, Geralt hums with concern.
"I'll be right back," he states. 
You would have loved to wrap your arms around him to keep him here, but his frown and the determined lines around his mouth let you know you better save your breath and let him do whatever he's up to. 
Nevertheless, your eyes follow him moving through the chamber as long as you can't touch him. He puts more wood onto the fire before he pours some liquid into a pot and hangs it onto a hook over the flames. And while he gathers blankets and clothes from a chest at the end of the canopy bed, the scent of spiced wine and burning pine wood fills the room. 
As he sees you watching him, a tender smile curls the corners of his mouth, and his golden eyes seem to gleam in the dim lighting of the fire as he strolls over to you. 
"We need to get you out of those wet clothes, my love," he mutters, kneeling down in front of you. 
You just nod, setting about to untie your shoelaces, but your fingers still tremble, and then, Geralt's big, callused hand engulfs yours. 
"Let me do that," he says softly, putting your foot on his thigh, and you're in no state to protest. 
As he slips off your shoes and socks, you wince ever-so-slightly. And he darts a worried glance at you, brushing his fingertip along the sore spots where the wet leather and wool have chafed your skin. 
The creases between his eyebrows deepen further as he unbuttons your dress and slips it over your head. And for a moment, you surmise him to gaze at your pebbled nipples showing through the damp fabric of your chemise. But his fingers skim along the goosebumps on your upper arm, and as your eyes follow his touch, you see the slight swelling and the bruised imprint of Erik's hand on your skin. Then, Geralt captures your chin between his fingers, tilting your head back to regard the barely-healed wound Olaf's sword has inflicted on you. 
He remains silent. However, the play of his expressions is like an ever-open book to you - a book written in a language only you can read. And you see concern and anger flick across his features. Along with something that might be a touch of guilt. As if none of it would have happened if he had been with you. 
The next shiver running through your body tears him out of his thoughts, and he hurries to remove your chemise and drape you in a woolen tunic, breeches, and socks. The point of culmination is the giant blanket he wraps you in, and you giggle with surprise as he unceremoniously moves the divan closer to the firepit with a jerk, making the feet of the furniture screech on the wooden floor. 
"I missed hearing you laugh," he says, and the soft smile playing on his lips is the perfect reflection of yours. 
"I missed you," you whisper, and your eyes flutter shut as his thumb brushes along your cheek. 
"I missed you more, my love!"
You can tell he has a hard time tearing himself away from you, even though it's only for the length of a few heartbeats as he steps toward the fireplace to pour you a mug of spiced wine. And both of you breathe a silent sigh of relief as he sits down beside you and pulls you onto his lap. 
As he hands you the steaming mug, you carefully take a sip and clasp the pottery with your cold hands, letting the beverage warm you from inside and out. But the warmth he radiates is much more enticing, and after you put the mug down on the mahogany tea table, you sink into his arms. He engulfs you in a tight embrace, pressing his lips to your temple. 
"Still cold, Little Bird?"
"A bit," you mumble, your voice all muffled and sleepy. And you're almost sure you can feel his smile and the rumbling of the hum in his chest. 
Then, he gently tugs at a loose strand of hair on your nape. 
"May I undo it?" he asks, and as you whisper your consent, he begins to undo the clips and beads holding your hair together. And he spreads out the damp strands, carefully detangling them one after another. 
His movements are skillful and nimble, and both of you revel in how familiar this situation feels. Geralt often used to take care of your hair like that before you laid down to sleep, especially when you were tired and exhausted after being called to a patient late at night. Sometimes, he accompanied you, especially when the patients were drunken men who hurt themselves in a brawl. And if he waited for you at home, he was always there to take care of you as soon as you entered your hut. 
And then, a little wistfulness creeps up on you because that place, your homestead, no longer exists, and you still have to tell him about it.
"Could you tell me what happened after I left?" he asks at that moment as if he had read your mind. 
And you nod, sitting up a bit to look at him. 
"Did you know that Erik sent off his men to destroy the villages of the borderland, along with everything and everyone that stayed there?" you begin quietly. 
"Yes. I heard about it," he replies, and you see the muscles of his jaw twitch as he clenches his teeth and his eyes harden a touch. 
You know that he steels himself, probably already guessing that it's not a nice story that you're about to tell. 
And you tell him about the villagers, about Edda and Gorm, and how the men returned. About the showdown on the square and how you and Björna fled. And how they burned down your hut. And oddly enough, it's only now that he's here with you that you're even able to think about your belongings.
"I'm sorry I couldn't save more of our things," you say, somehow guiltily averting your gaze.  
"Don't!" he objects without missing a beat. "Not a single thing I ever owned matters, you know?" 
He leans in, gently bumping his nose against your cheek to make you look at him, and you wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his because yes… nothing else matters.
"I had hoped you would flee to the west," he mumbles at some point, leaning his forehead against yours. "I had already braced myself to travel the land, to every single village and every single town, no matter how long it would have taken to find you. And now you're here, at this gods-forsaken place…" His voice sounds almost tormented, and then, he falls silent. 
"I couldn't have left without knowing what happened to you," you whisper, and he withdraws a bit, his inquiring gaze roaming your face. 
"Didn't they tell you?"
"No. Gorm just said you were a traitor because you didn't… conjure up the victory. And that he didn't know what happened to you."
"He lied." 
"I thought so much." 
"You should have cursed him after all," Geralt mutters, and the thought makes you chuckle.
"I wish so, too. He would have probably pissed his pants."
The image elicits a small smile from him, but the smile quickly vanishes. 
"I'm going to kill him if our paths should ever cross again," he says then, all serious. "I already dread to hear what dangers you were subjected to on your way here. The people in the hall said there's nothing but ash left of the villages along the route to the east."
"That's why I avoided the main route," you carefully begin to explain, and you instantly feel him tense. 
"Which route did you take instead, Little Bird?" he inquires, and his eyes seem glued to your lips. 
"The route southward. Through the forest-"
"The forest of the shadows?!" he cuts you off, clearly alarmed. 
"Yes," you confirm, "it was the only way to get to the battlefield and avoid the main route."
"To the battlefield…" 
His expression is almost dumbfounded, his legs twitching restlessly. And if you hadn't sat in his lap, he probably would have leaped to his feet and paced around in the room like the bear in a cage you had seen at a fair when you were little.  
"Going to the battlefield was more than dangerous enough, but the forest of the shadows…," he says, shaking his head. 
"I know. Because… we encountered the shadows-" You wince slightly as his hands grab you painfully tight. "We were able to flee to a hut on a clearing," you hurry to say so as not to worry him further. "A woman lives there, and she provided refuge for us. And we were both unharmed, Björna and I," you reassure him. 
You cradle his face in your hands, brushing your thumbs along his cheeks. Nevertheless, he stares at you for a few moments with restless eyes flickering like two flames in the wind. Then he exhales slowly, leaning into your touch. 
"Her name is Svala," he rasps after a moment. "The woman in the hut, I mean."
"You know her?"
"Yes. The people of the villages near the forest called me many years ago. They wanted me to get rid of the shadows, but that proved to be more tricky than expected, and I ended up in her hut as well. And gods, did she give me an earful!"
You laugh quietly. "Yeah, delicacy still isn't her long suit. But she saved me, and apparently, she saved you, too, which means I will forever be grateful to her." 
"Me, too, Little Bird. Me, too."
You carefully reach for your mug, letting the aroma of dark berries and honey wash over your tongue. And your fingers fiddle with a chipped spot at the rim of the cup.
"What is it?" Geralt asks. Of course, he noticed you hesitate right away. 
"The shadows… What are they? I asked Svala about them, but I think she didn't want to tell me."
Geralt seems to hesitate as well, because he gives you a long look, exhaling a deep breath that is more of a sigh before he slowly begins to speak. 
"Many years ago, a man was on his way home to his young wife. As he traversed the forest, he was held up by a band of raiders. When he didn't arrive home that evening, his wife went out into the forest to look for him. The raiders captured her as well, and they tortured her all night long in the cruelest way. At daybreak, they abandoned her in the forest without hearing her pleading to tell her what happened to her husband. And she died without knowing that he was long dead at that point. People say she refused to move on to the otherworld, that she's still out there looking for him in the shadows, and that her hamr [one aspect of the Norse conception of the soul] has become one with the darkness. And the shadows wait, filled with bitterness and hate, to wreak their revenge on the living who step into the forest. And maybe they still hope that the man they once loved will return one day." 
Whereas you had just begun to feel a bit warmer, Geralt's words send cold shivers up and down your spine.
"She went out to look for him… like I was looking for you," you mumble absentmindedly, and the similarity makes your stomach feel in a knot. "Is that why Svala didn't want to tell me more?"
"Maybe," Geralt shrugs. "Who knows… I'm just glad there was at least someone on your way to help you." 
"She wasn't the only help I had," you smile, and then you tell him about Olaf and Kári. 
You raise your head in surprise as Geralt chuckles, shaking his head. "Kári! The little smartass… I shouldn't be surprised!" 
"You know him?"
"Mhm. He comes around to the castle with his father every few days. He just came up to me one day and offered to provide me with whatever I needed from the town. For a generous tip, as he said."
You can't help but laugh as well. "Well, guess who takes care of Björna at the inn for the next few days? For a very generous tip, as I should mention. I bet the little guy will be rich at some point." But then you think of his father, and your smile faints. "Well, it's more likely that his father will pocket everything he earns," you remark.
"His father is an asshole and a chickenshit," Geralt agrees. "He owns the brewery, and he lets his motherless children slave away, whereas he's his own best customer."
You just nod in silence, and then, both of you stare into the dancing flames. 
At some point, Geralt heaves a silent sigh.
"What is it, my love?" You ask, planting a kiss on his temple.
As usual, he thinks about his reply before opening his mouth to speak, and his voice sounds hoarse and strained. "I can't stop thinking about the danger you've been in all the time. About the things that could have happened to you. About what if I had lost you?"
"What if I had lost you?" you reply, and you can't help that tears flood your eyes as your fingertips carefully brush along the healing wound on his forehead.
You can still see clearly where a heavy blow split his skin. And whoever treated his wound didn't do it correctly because the edges look swollen and somehow crooked where they grow together. 
"Are you in pain?" you ask softly. 
"Hardly at all," he shrugs. 
Which means yes, as you know oh-so-well after all those years. 
"Has your vision changed? Like blurred or double images?" 
"None."
"Dizziness?"
"Either," he whispers, closing his eyes as your fingertips continue to caress his forehead, his temples, the stubble on his cheeks, and he hums quietly, leaning into your touch.
"That's good," you mumble. "But you really need to rest, my love."
"Well, I can try. But resting isn't my long suit."
"I could help you try," you can't help but smirk, raising an eyebrow, and as he casts up his eyes, his grin looks almost wolfish.
"I appreciate your help, Little Bird," he says then, his grin fading. "However, you'll see in the next few days that a couple of things are out of my hands here. And out of yours."
"Like joining the feasts?" you guess. 
"Like joining the feasts," Geralt confirms, and then he sighs. "And you will have to act a part as well. We will think about which part, though, but you will have to play-act, just like I do."
"I can do that," you reassure him. "And… which part are you playing? Just so I know."
"The fallen witcher, of course. Injured and deprived of his powers, addicting himself to the booze."
"And to the whores," you can't help but add. 
"And to the whores. But that part of our little farce will end now. I promise you that," he reassures you with his eyes and his kiss. 
"Thank you," you whisper, nuzzling closer to him, whereas your eyebrows knit in confusion. 
There was something in his words, something in his voice that made you prick up your ears. 
"Has anything changed about your powers, my love?" you ask quietly. 
Apparently, you hit the mark because his head spins around, and again, his eyes flicker restlessly as his gaze intertwines with yours. 
"I don't know," he rasps after a moment of silence. "I mean… I was well-prepared before the battle, and still… " he shakes his head. His brows are knitted, hard lines playing around his mouth, and he briefly closes his eyes before he continues to speak. "I went through the battle over and over again in my head since I'm able to think again. I've been trying to figure out when and where I made a mistake, why I didn't see it coming, the ambush, the attack. And why nothing, not a single sign, worked."  
"Have you tried the signs here?"
"A few. They worked, but I need to find out why they didn't work during the battle. And we have to be very careful. Erik is a dangerous man, and only the gods know what he's up to."
You believe him without a moment's hesitation, and the reminiscence of Erik's ice-cold eyes is enough to make your skin crawl again. 
"What will become of us?" you ask quietly after taking another sip of the spiced wine that is almost cold now. 
"I don't know. But we will find a way, Little Bird, and we'll be fine. That I can finally be certain of, now that you're here… with me," he confesses, planting a simple kiss on your forehead. 
He lets his lips linger there for a moment, and as he inhales a shaky breath, a wave of affection surges up within you. Because of his words. And because of everything he doesn't say. 
You squirm free of the blanket with somewhat hasty and clumsy movements, sliding your leg over his until you straddle him. As he pulls you flush against him, his force pushes the air out of your lungs. You, however, couldn't care less for breathing, and you hug him back with all the strength you can muster. And somehow, your strength seems to make him melt. 
His head sinks against your shoulder, and his warm breath skims along your neck as he mumbles, "I missed you so much… I need you!"
"I need you, too," you whisper, and all of a sudden, all that longing you choked back so bravely breaks its way to the surface. "I was so lonely without you," you confess, and you can't prevent your voice from wobbling nor the tiny sob from rising in your throat. 
"I was with you in my thoughts," he says, his voice oddly breathy as he raises his head and puts his hand on your cheek, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I didn't know where you were or what you were doing, but I thought of you all the time," he reassures you. 
And your whispered vows of love still hang in the air as your lips find each other, melting into a kiss that feels like a vow itself and like a remedy for the days you had been longing for each other. 
He devours you just as much as you devour him, and you revel in his taste, and in the way his tongue dances around yours. How his teeth scrape along your bottom lip as he sucks on it, both greedy and gentle at the same time, and in the way he hums with relish as you rake your nails over his scalp. 
Your breathing has long become heavy and panting when his hands slide along your back, down to your butt. And he cups it with both hands, firmly squeezing your flesh as he pulls you closer to him. A needy moan falls from your lips as his hard cock presses against your core, and you rock your hips in slow, grinding motions, feeling him throb and twitch in his pants. 
"Fuck," he mutters under his breath before smashing his lips back on yours. "Keep going... just like that," he commands in between hasty kisses, and a whimpering is the only answer you're capable of as you do so, shuddering with pleasure every time his cock rubs against your pearl in the most perfect way. 
One of his hands rests on your butt, whereas the other one wanders higher. His palm runs over your breasts, tracing your soft curves and pebbled buds, drinking in your moans and the little mewling you fail to suppress as he captures your nipples between his fingers for a firm squeeze. 
As he sets about undoing the front of your oversized tunic, his fingers catch in the lacing. A smile curls your lips while you watch him tug and tear at the laces with increasing impatience. And the grin spreading on his face as he has succeeded, opening the lacing enough to shove his hands into the piece of clothing, is nothing less than triumphant. 
"Fuck," he curses as he caresses your bare mounds that seem to downright ache for him, and you welcome every little touch, every squeeze, and every pinch.
"Are you warm enough, Little Bird?" he mumbles at some point, running his tongue along the corner of your mouth. "I would love to see you… to see all of you." 
"I'm warm enough," you confirm, and you raise your arms and help him strip off your tunic. 
You slide off his lap to unlace your breeches, and a smile plays on your lips as you see his eyes roam your body, only briefly interrupted as he hastily shirks off his own tunic and pants. 
You remain standing in front of him, and although you're naked, you don't feel cold. 
The heat of the flames in the firepit dances along your back, whereas the sight of him seems to send liquid heat through your veins. 
Your eyes wander over his familiar form and features. His broad shoulders and the hair coating his chest. The wolf pendant. The countless scars of which you know every single one, by their look and their story and by the way they feel on your tongue. 
His chest heaves with deep breaths while his golden eyes wander across your body, so full of need, and you feel your hands tingle with the same need to touch him. 
You had nearly moaned aloud under his searing gaze as you step closer, between his long, muscular legs. And you put your hands on his shoulders, left and right of his neck. His hands find your hips effortlessly, his thumbs drawing circles around your hip bones while he presses kisses to the soft flesh of your belly. Even if you had tried, you would have failed to suppress your gasp for air, and your hands run along his neck, along the lines of his collarbones, of the muscles of his neck, and the elongated scar on his shoulder blade.  
As he raises his head to capture your puffy nipple between his fingers, then between his lips, your gazes intertwine, and the glow in his eyes burns just as hot as his mouth on your skin while he sucks and licks and flicks the bud with his tongue, bathing in your moans and your whimpering. 
As your knees buckle, he steadies you, cradling your butt in his firm grip. But he doesn't stop. Instead, his hoarse moan and his stubble caress your skin as he steps up his efforts.    
Even like this, the tiny distance between you feels like too much, and his name tumbles from your lips along with an almost desperate plea. 
"Is that what you need, hm?" he mumbles into your ear as he pulls you back to straddle his lap, and his arms engulf you. 
"Closer," is all you can utter, "I need you closer!" And there's nothing you can do to prevent your hips from jerking forward, full of need.  
"Aww, come here, sweet Little Bird," he teases gently, but as he grabs your butt to guide you onto his throbbing cock, he breathes just as heavily as you. 
Even though you're more than wet, he literally works you open, determined, and yet so gentle as he sinks deeper and deeper into your heat. And as he has buried himself inside you to the hilt, you still feel the stretching of your walls, a delicious pulling and pulsation of your muscles. 
He pauses to pull you closer, and both of you smile as the inked lines winding around your ribcages and your arms align with each other until it looks like they form a consistent pattern enveloping your bodies like one.
Complete.
It had felt like that back then when the priest engraved them into your skin. And it still feels like that today.  
"You're mine. Until Ragnarök and beyond!" you hear Geralt mutter against your neck. 
His words are followed by his teeth digging into your soft skin - a sensation that has you instantly writhing and squirming. 
"Yours," you breathe, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Yours!" Like a vow, like a prayer. And your body picks up the words, translating them into movements, making you roll your hips, withdrawing from him, just to sink down on him a heartbeat later. Again. And again. 
The hoarse groans falling from Geralt's lips make your insides clench, so sudden and powerful you can only whimper in response. 
"Good, Little Bird?" he mumbles against your throat. 
"Mhm… oh!" you utter as his cock hits just the right spot. And you dig your fingers into the thick muscles of his shoulders as your hips involuntarily jerk forward, greedy to feel it again. "Oh, gods!" 
"Fuck!" he growls. "Right there, hm?" 
"Yes," you gasp as another wave of heat slashes through your body, and your movements begin to form a rhythm. "Yes… please…”
"You feel so good… fucking yourself on my cock like that. Fuck, I missed you!"  
And while you clutch at him, slowly turning into a bundle of need in his lap, you revel in the way he watches you with wildly glowing eyes. While a thin sheen of sweat forms on his skin. And the firm grip of his hand on your butt becomes almost painfully tight. 
"Come here, my love," he purrs as your movements grow unsteady, and he cradles your form in his arms.
You let him take over, letting him lift you up and lower you down, letting him help you ride him as he forces an angle and depth and rhythm on you that feels almost too perfect to bear. And tiny sobs, heavy with pleasure and yearning, break their way from your throat. 
"Let go, Little Bird," he encourages you. "Let go… I need to see you cum… feel you… cum for me, sweet girl… cum for me!" And his every word, urgent and dark and beguiling, seems to drag you further toward the abyss.   
"Cum for me," he mumbles one last time. And then, you teeter. Teeter on the brink as he impales you on his thick cock once, twice more until everything in you begins to convulse in the most delicious way. 
And then, you fall. 
And you fly. 
With his arms still around you, and his voice whispering sweet nothings into your ear, and tears brimming your eyes while he fucks you through your high seamlessly blending into his. And then, he crumbles into pieces, into pure need, pulling you down on him with firm jerks while he thrusts upward, desperate to get deeper into your heat. And you feel his cum paint your walls, filling you with hot jets while his groan reverberates against your neck and his teeth dig into your flesh. 
You hug him tighter, hold him and stroke his soft hair as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, hold him as he laps and nibbles at your skin, as his heart thunders against your ribcage, much faster than usual, yet significantly slower than yours. 
"I love you," you whisper into his ear. "I love you so much… in every life we might live… until Ragnarök and beyond." 
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147 notes · View notes
violetsreadinglist · 8 days
Text
🍫13 Days of Halloween: Day 6
Prompts: “Where is all the Halloween candy?” “I don’t know” “Y/n”  
((Prompt changed slightly to match characterization))
Requested by: Anonymous
Pairing: Reader x M*A*S*H Unit (Platonic)
Gender: Neutral      Triggers: None
Words: 1,585     Genre: Humor; Hijinks
Note: Thank you for requesting M*A*S*H! I hope I did it justice~ The time-line might not match up, but whatever. 
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You sat down with a sigh as Hawkeye and B.J. fixed themselves a drink, Radar scribbled on his notepad, while Potter sat nearby tapping his finger against his chin. 
“So after post op, we’ll invite the nearby villagers, hand out a bunch of candy to the kiddies, and then we’ll have ourselves a nice party” Potter recited as Radar nodded along.
“Sounds like a pretty good plan” you replied “How does Frank feel about it?” 
“He doesn’t know yet” Hawkeye said, coming to sit next to you “We don’t think it’s necessary to tell his highness, he’ll complain about it either way”
“Who knows, maybe he’ll think it’s a grand idea” B.J. suggested as he sat on his own cot. 
“It’s Frank, B.J., his grand idea of a Halloween party would include everyone dressed in their fatigues dancing 6-feet apart to the tune of the star spangled banner.”
You smiled at Hawkeyes comment as he turned to you “So Y/n, have you decided what you’re going to wear?”
You shrugged “Probably something in a khaki color” you tugged on your pants as you spoke, knowing you had nothing to really wear. 
“Oh come on, you gotta dress up, we are!” B.J. said
“I’d love to dress up Beej but I have nothing to wear, I ordered a costume but it never came, I asked Klinger but he’s already given half of his clothes to the rest of the camp to wear.”
Hawkeye patted your leg, leaving his hand on your knee “We’ll find something.”
“I don’t know if I’d want to wear something you’d suggest” you replied with a note of suspicion. 
Hawkeye gave you an offended look “I have great taste in clothes!”
“You’re idea for a costume would be my birthday suit.”
“Oh, now that is an idea” he replied with a smirk, making you roll your eyes.
“Uh, Sir” Radar spoke up
“Yes Radar.” Potter asked
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violetsreadinglist · 8 days
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M*A*S*H Masterlist
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Everything I've written for the Tv Show M*A*S*H
Link to Main Masterlist
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Multi-Character
Oneshot: ‘Where is all the Halloween candy?’’I don’t know”’Y/n/?” (humor)
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Benjamin “Hawkeye” Pierce
Oneshots/Drabbles:
“I’m dying” + “I thought you loved me” (general/platonic/humor) 
‘Snowball Fight’ (humor)
'Dance' (fluff)
‘Ready’ (jealousy/angst/fluff)
'Cheer Up' (cute/fluff)
'Good Enough' (angst/comfort/fluff)
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BJ Hunnicutt
Oneshots/Drabbles: 
‘Promises Kept’ (angst/fluff)
'Rainy Day' (gen/cute)
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violetsreadinglist · 8 days
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A Perfect Dream
Pairing: Hawkeye x reader
Category: One-shot
Summary: You and Hawkeye are dancing when B.J. interrupts you with the usual bad news; choppers are coming.
Warnings: None
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     “Hawkeye? Hey, Hawk,”
     “Just a few more minutes.” Hawkeye muttered, pressing his face into your hair. You pulled him closer, not wanting the moment to end, knowing that nothing lasts forever.
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violetsreadinglist · 8 days
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Ready
30 Day Writing Challenge Day 23 - 'Jealousy'
Pairing: Benjamin "Hawkeye" Pierce x G!N Reader
Warnings: Mentions of jealousy, reference to sex (vague)
Word Count: 2.1k
General Taglist: @criminaly-supernatural, @caswinchester2000, @imaginesfire MASH Taglist: @thatadroitgeek, @whimsical-daydreams, @meganlpie, @hybrid-omegaverse Requested Taglist: @spuffyfan394
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As you laughed along to the story Dr. Thatcher was telling you, you were unaware of the searing gaze Hawekeye was giving your way as he watched. Even through the chattering crowd of the Officers Club and over the piano and Father Mulcahy and Kelly's singing, your laugh made its way to Hawkeye’s ears. He frowned with disdain at the way you playfully smacked the Doctor's shoulder.
Hawkeye was used to your laugh directed at him, his jokes making you lean over in joy after a long day's work in the OR. The smile you gave him after you finally caught your breath. Seeing another man, let alone another doctor, making you laugh sent a jealous annoyance through him he could barely control.
Just like you were unaware of Hawkeye’s jealous gaze, Hawkeye was unaware of BJ’s humored one. BJ, seeing Hawkeye shake his head and let out a muttered disdainful sarcastic comment about the visiting doctor made BJ let out a dry chuckle. “Hawk, are you gonna stare at them all night?”
“What?” Hawkeye said as he turned his attention back to BJ for the first time in ten minutes “Stare at who, I’m not staring at anybody.” He said with a childlike annoyance as he finally turned away from you.
“Come on Hawk.” BJ began “It’s driving you crazy that Y/n is on a date with-”
“Who called it a date?” Hawkeye asked defensively “For all we know it’s a- a- work dinner about the most recent cardiac procedure.” Hawkeye excused, obviously not convincing himself, or anyone else otherwise.
BJ rolled his eyes “Hawkeye, you gotta tell Y/n how you feel before you lose the chance forever.” He said with as much sympathy as he could force through his annoyance. When Hawkeye just shook his head in silence BJ sighed and leaned a bit closer to him. “Hawkeye, would you just listen, for one second?” When Hawkeye gave him his attention, though forced, BJ began “Y/n obviously feels the same way for you, that you do for them. The only thing stopping either of you from moving forward is you. Why?”
Hawkeye opened his mouth to retaliate, to lie, or make a crass joke, but as his mind went blank, he closed his mouth and shook his head. Looking back at BJ, he allowed himself to show the emotion he tries so hard to hide. “I’m scared Beej.”
“Of what?” BJ asked incredulously.
“Of all of it. The commitment, the relationship, love. I’m terrified of falling in love with Y/n. And I know that I’m already on that path. And that if I do anything about it, I won't be able to stop myself from falling completely. And that- that terrifies me. Because what if...what if I break Y/n's heart? What if they break mine? What if…” He let out a shaky breath “What if one of us dies.”
BJ felt pity for Hawkeye as he finally let out his desperation's. Reaching over he patted Hawkeye on the back. “No matter how scared you are about all the things that could happen. You’ll regret it more if you force yourself to do nothing. You deserve that happiness Hawk. Even through the fear of it all, you’ll only regret losing what would happen, because you’ll be focusing on what could."
Taking in BJ’s words, he glanced back at the table you had been at, only to see you were now gone, along with Doctor Thatcher. Feeling the pit in his gut get bigger, he feared he may have been too late.
- - - - -
Later that evening, as the sky grew dark, Hawkeye left his last shift of the night. He wandered through the compound, he couldn’t help the intrusive thoughts that crept through his mind. Where had you and Doctor Thatcher gone after you left the Officers Club? What did you do? Where are you now? Are you with him? As his mind came up with a hundred things you could be doing together, Hawkeye felt his gut twist.
Suddenly, hearing a familiar chuckle, he looked up. You and Dr Thatcher rounded the corner as you walked through the compound together. The second Hawkeye saw the two of you, together again, he couldn’t stop the jealousy that rose through him once again. He also realized he felt relieved, seeing you two out here together. At least he no longer had to fear that you were off alone somewhere, wrapped in each other’s arms. Though, whether that was something that had already happened, he wasn’t sure.
“Hey kids.” He suddenly said loudly, gaining yours and Dr Thatcher’s attention.
You smiled at him as he approached “Hey Hawk. Finished with your shift?”
“Oh yeah, all done now. Ya’ know. Doing my job. Being a Doctor.” He said awkwardly as he looked at Dr Thatcher “I was surprised not to see you in post op.”
You frowned as you watched Hawkeye. To most, it would be hard to see or hear the disdain in his voice. But having known him for some time, you picked up on it easily. He was annoyed, angry even. At you or Dr. Thatcher you didn’t know, as Hawkeye’s gaze pierced through both of you.
“Oh, well, I will be taking the shift in the early morning, just before I leave back to my unit.” Dr. Thatcher responded.
“Oh, oh, I see.” Hawkeye nodded as he smiled. “Well I checked on your patients so there’s no need to worry. I wouldn’t wanna run your two’s fun.” He said with a shrug and a cheshire grin.
Dr. Thatcher let out an awkward laugh as he looked at you briefly "Well. I was going to head to bed anyway. So, no fun ruined I assure you.” He said politely as he looked back at you. “I’ll make sure to say goodbye in the morning.”
You smiled, ignoring Hawkeye’s cynical smile “Good, have a good night.”
As soon Doctor Thatcher had disappeared around the corner you turned to Hawkeye “What’s wrong with you?”
Hawkeye lifted his hands in defense as he shrugged his shoulders “What? Can’t a man make conversation?”
“That wasn't a conversation, Hawkeye. He may not have been able to notice it, but I’ve known you long enough to know that you were being mean. You were being cynical and conniving, why? What did he do to you?”
“Who says he did anything?” He responded, defensiveness rising in his voice “I’m sure he’s a great guy. Funny, charming. Good enough to get you alone.”
As he saw your face fall, he felt his heart shrink. Without a response you turned to leave, but Hawkeye quickly reached out, grabbing your elbow to stop you “Y/n, Y/n, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.”
You turned quickly, facing him, the anger in your eyes causing him to take a step back “Then what did you mean Hawkeye, because what it sounded like, was you accusing me of sneaking off to sleep with a Doctor simply because what? He was charming and made me laugh? How dare you.” You said, hurt obviously written across your face.
“Please, Y/n, I didn’t mean that, I just...I’ve seen you two around the last few days. And you left the officers club together, I just-”
“Well for your information, when we left it was because I had a shift in Post Op and he had to write up some reports. We happened to run into each other in the mess-hall, ate together and that’s why we were together a few minutes ago.” You said defensively. You knew you shouldn’t have to defend yourself, but you were hurt.
Hawkeye let out a sigh and you saw the regret on his face “I’m sorry, I should have known better.”
As you felt a bit calmer, having heard a genuine apology, something else clicked. “Why would it matter anyways?” You asked.
You had feelings for Hawkeye for some time now, and sometimes you thought he felt the same. But since he flirted with most people, both seriously and joking, you never knew if his remarks towards you were serious. But when he told you his deepest thoughts, sought you out just to see you, you thought maybe he did feel the same. And now, as he got so stirred up at the thought of you with someone else...was he finally ready to admit it?
“Uhh.” He was unsure of what to say in response. “It doesn’t.” He added on, and as your face fell again, though he saw you didn’t believe him, he felt regret that he didn’t just spit it out.
“Fine.” You said, your voice quiet as you felt disappointment. Turning to walk back to your tent you stopped when Hawkeyes hand grabbed your elbow once again. Looking back at him, you saw a soft, nervous gaze on his face.
“It mattered...because I was jealous.” You turned fully towards him now. Through his nervousness, he swallowed his pride and fear and took a small step towards you. He stared down at you and into your eyes. “I was jealous that you were spending so much time with him and not me. I was jealous he was the one making you laugh, not me.” He said softly, as though if he spoke any louder it might hurt. He tore his eyes away from yours and stared down at the ground.
“Jealous?” You asked, your voice matching his own quiet voice.
He nodded. “You seemed to really like him.” He admitted, and you saw his face fall.
You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips as you saw Hawkeye, baring his true emotions to you willingly, though cautiously. “I do like him.” You saw him swallow a bit and you continued “And so does his wife. Who, I happened to go to school with.” Hawkeye’s eyes snapped back up to yours. “That’s why we got on so well. Once I found out who he was, I couldn't just ignore him. He became my friend, and I got to hear stories about a friend I lost contact with years ago. That's why we spent so much time together.” You saw the realization cross Hawkeye's face as you spoke “You would have known that had you not been avoiding my presence the last few days. Was that due to jealousy too?” You asked, your voice laced with amusement.
Hawkeye looked up at the sky and let out a loud sigh “Oy vey.” You heard him mutter.
You laughed. “At least one of us said it.”
He looked back down at you and let out an incredulous laugh “You have no idea how stupid I feel right now.”
“I think I can guess.” You said with a small smile.
He shook his head a bit “Well. At least it got me to...sort of tell you how I feel.”
You smiled at him “You’re not the type to so easily admit their feelings to someone.”
He shook his head “It’s a fatal flaw.” He looked back down at the ground and you smiled a bit.
“No one makes me laugh like you, Hawkeye.” You said softly and he looked back up at you, his eyes filled with something akin to hope. “And no one makes me feel like you do Hawkeye. I don’t think anyone ever will.”
“And how do I make you feel exactly?”
“Scared.” You said softly and you saw his face change as he truly realized you did feel the same as him. “This is the worst place to fall for someone. But...we can’t help it can we?”
He shook his head and whispered out “No.”
You took a small step closer to him as you looked up into his eyes “But what makes it worth it, are the other other ways you make me feel. Happy. Wanted. Needed. And safe.”
Hawkeye’s eyes lit up as you spoke, seeing the genuinity behind your eyes. A smile stretched across his face. Slowly, he brought up his hand and cupped your cheek “You know what you make me feel?”
“What?” You asked, your voice barely audible.
Leaning down a bit, his lips getting closer to yours, he smiled again “Ready.”
“Ready?” You questioned.
He nodded “Yeah. For the first time, I think I’m ready to fall in love.” He admitted, and through the shock that sent through you, you couldn’t help the smile that formed.
Smiling in return, and feeling all of his fears and reservations slip away, he closed the gap between you and kissed you. Whether the war raged on around you, and threatened to tear you away from one another. He would no longer run away. Instead, he would hold you close, keep you safe, and love you as best he could.
xx End xx
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