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starrywilliams · 8 months ago

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thinking about abby at a bar …

a ceo!abby drabble

notes: this is not amazing (nor very long) butttt i have other stuff coming soonish and i just wanted to post something !!

tags: nothing bad rly… drinking? me being down bad for abby?

wc: 0.8k

thinking about ceo!abby deciding to spend her evening in some shitty bar, sick of all the uptight pretentious people she usually has to spend her nights with. she walked in: the music was loud, the air was thick, and it was exactly what she was looking for.

you’d spotted her immediately - an interloper. suit still on - albeit her navy jacket now folded over her arm; sparkling watch far too visible for her to be accustomed to the unspoken rules yet; and a presence that just demanded attention. who was she?

you wondered why she was here. most people came here to distract themselves, to hide, to forget. was she one of them too? as she approached the bar, you had to try and hide your stares, but you were intrigued.

“you shouldn’t wear a watch like that around here.” you told her as you poured a beer, handing it to some man before leaning over the sticky bar to take a closer look at her. blue eyes, freckled skin, blonde hair falling over her shoulders in waves. she peered back with slight shock at your candid warning - who were you?

“so, what can i get for ya?” you asked, pushing a strand of hair back behind your ear as you pushed yourself back from the wooden countertop. “anything.” she answered, eyes meeting yours with a hopeless desperation. “tequila?” you replied, grabbing a shot glass before she had the chance to disagree.

“so why are you here?” you interrogated, pouring the clear liquid into the glass without breaking the continuance of your sharp analysis of her appearance; which was now coloured shocked, hues of scarlet and rose dancing over her skin.

“do you ask everyone such personal questions or am i just tonight’s lucky victim?” she quipped, a smirk growing as her head tilted to the side. you raised your eyebrows, pushing a slice of lime and a tray of salt in front of her. “most people answer them.”

“oh do they?” she laughed, reaching to undo her cuffs; placing the links on the counter before pulling the fabric down her forearms. “i suppose at your usual bar they don’t talk to you much… bet it’s nice, someone playing the piano while you all drink scotch - neat, of course.” you jested, noticing how her tongue poked into her cheek, amused by you.

“and for your information, yeah, they d-” you barely managed, suddenly being distracted by her newly revealed skin. her arms, you’d almost gasped, they were so big and god, you could’ve drunk the blood from her veins there and then, and was that a scar? jesus christ, they were sooo-

“what was that, sorry?” she interrupted, a teasing tone rife in her words. “yeah they do actually!” you smiled coyly, leaning forward: abby’s eye contact faltering as she briefly indulged in your cleavage - just as shameless as you had been.

“give me your hand.” you ordered, taking it in your hand when she easily complied. “what are you doing?” she asked, not getting an answer before you brushed your free thumb over your tongue - proceeding to wet the back of her hand with your spit.

her jaw fell as her eyes widened, now watching you rub some salt into the area. “you ready?” you asked, passing her the shot while she simply stared starry-eyed in your direction, still taken aback by your very forward action.

“wait, you do know how to do this, right?” you quickly interjected, for all you know that girl could’ve been a complete novice! after all, who walks around this part of town dressed like that. she didn’t seem very experienced.

“i went to college, y’know.” she replied, voice low. “ah, so you don’t just drink scotch! nice to know.” you jested, biting your lip playfully. she was going to show you everything she’d learnt in college, the drinking part at least.

“what’s your name?” abby abruptly asked, smiling when you answered, “pretty.” you rolled your eyes playfully, asking for hers in return. “well,” she held the shot up, dedicating it to you, “here goes nothing.”

she dragged her tongue through the salt, before quickly downing the liquor - replacing its burn with the lime swiftly. with a relaxed grin, she met your eyes once more. but your view drifted to the liquid just slightly running over her lip: your thumb reaching to swipe it off instinctively.

before you even realised what you were doing, you felt her lips wrap around your thumb, teeth gently scraping the skin as her tongue swirled around the pad. “abby-” you gasped, putting the newly learned name to use as your pupils blew before her.

“sorry, i don’t know why i did that- fuck.” she rambled after pulling back, staring at the counter in shock. the blasting music that ricocheted off every wall doing little to help, the pair of you frozen in some haze of awe and panic.

“no- no, it’s okay. um, i don’t get off for a while but if you wanna wait, we can- we can go-” you went on, unsure what to say to salvage the situation.

“i’ll wait.”

#abby anderson #the last of us #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #the last of us 2 #ellie tlou #ellie williams smut #tlou #abby tlou #abby tlou2 #abby smut #abby anderson fic

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writeforfandoms · 1 year ago

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State of My Head 3

Find the series masterlist

Here we are folks! The final chapter! There will be a bonus scene soonish, so keep an eye out for that. But this is the last actual chapter, with the promised happy ending.

Warnings: Canon typical violence, blood, injury, death of a minor character, swearing, shifter behavior, cat behavior, Gaz finally realizes he was an idiot.

Word count: 4.7k

You still hated the helicopter rides. Even though they were necessary. But you still huddled into your seat, holding tight to the grips. At least Gaz and Soap had stopped teasing you, most of the time.

This op was a little less straightforward. They didn’t have as much intel on this location, which was why Price was sending you in first. There were supposed to be weapons, but there was no clear intel on how many weapons or exactly which kind.

That was part of your job. To find the weapons and report back.

The heli landed and you hopped out, taking a moment to look around. You’d been dropped off away from the objective - there was a bit of a hike to the buildings. Apparently this was normal for them.

You were just looking forward to shifting so you could run ahead.

Price motioned for you to follow him, which you did. By now, this was routine. You weren’t combat trained, so you stayed in the middle of the group. This time, Gaz covered your back.

Price halted in a good cover spot, and you immediately shifted.

“Straight back here,” Price reminded you as you crawled out of your clothes, though he didn’t need to and you both knew it. By now, it was just habit.

You meowed softly at him and lifted one paw, tapping his boot twice. And then you trotted off towards your destination.

The set of three warehouses were a bit removed from the road, big parking lots nearly empty. They had that dilapidated look about them, run down and tagged with spraypaint. They were set outside of town, far enough away that you doubted anyone would be able to hear things going on here. Good for the people of the town, at least. The route from Price’s chosen spot to the parking lots was covered in vegetation, trees growing tall and wild, bushes providing plenty of cover spots. A series of hills rose behind the warehouse, providing further cover.

It wasn’t a bad location for a secret weapons cache, really. Unremarkable. Isolated enough to operate without suspicion, but still with easy access to a major road. Not bad at all.

The chain link fencing around the area was new. Still easy enough to squeeze under. Sometimes you were glad you weren’t any bigger.

The lack of outside lights worked in your favor, allowing you to get close. You paused outside to listen.

Definite movement inside. Footsteps. Murmuring. The click of a lighter. A side door opened several feet from your hiding spot, letting out a guard, and you held very still.

“Think they’re gonna show?” The guard had an accent, sounded Russian to your ears.

“Boss thinks they will.” A second guard stepped out of the building, lighting a cigarette. This one sounded American.

“What makes him so sure?” The Russian didn’t sound disbelieving, just bored.

“Eh, who knows?” The American blew out smoke, rolling his shoulders. “Not like I’m the boss’s right hand man.”

The two both laughed at that, and you tensed. There was something wrong here, very wrong. Who were they expecting?

A radio crackled on the Russian’s hip. “Got movement from the northwest,” someone reported in, muffled but audible. Also American. Northwest. You froze, not quite sure which direction you’d come from.

“Guess the boss is right.” The American grinned, teeth very white in the darkness. “We better finish up if we wanna get in on the fun.”

“Assuming the snipers don’t get the bastards first,” the Russian agreed. “But who knows? They are supposed to be very good.”

“It’s the same assholes that blew up the cache two weeks ago. They’re good.” The American sounded almost eager, thirsty for bloodshed in a way that made all your fur stand on end. He put out his cigarette on the bottom of his shoe, free hand reaching over to smack his companion in the shoulder. “C’mon, man, hurry up.”

You’d heard enough. You remembered the cache two weeks ago - Soap had come back exhilarated and smelling of smoke.

They were expecting your guys. Somehow, they knew.

This was a trap.

You bolted, running as fast as you could, no longer quite so worried about stealth.

But you did pause outside the fence, because they’d mentioned snipers. Okay. Think like Ghost. Where would you set up if you were a sniper?

A quick look found at least four spots you could check. After you warned the team.

It took a lot less time to get back to them, since you were less concerned about stealth and more concerned about speed. Consequently, when you arrived in front of Price, you were panting. Shifting took only a moment, leaving you crouched in front of them.

“They know,” you gasped, not giving them time to ask you questions. “Expecting you. Snipers, guards.” You waved back at the building.

Price’s eyes narrowed. “You sure?”

You nodded rapidly. “Heard two of them talking.” You swallowed against your dry throat, ignoring the chill of the night air against your skin.

Price blew out a slow breath, gaze flitting between you and the buildings in the distance. The other three all stood still and silent, waiting on his orders.

“Right. No use walkin’ in to a trap. Get back to exfil.”

There was a ripple through the group, the tension of a thwarted op paired with the knowledge that they’d been given bad intel. You, at least, couldn’t think for a moment of anything other than the fact that if you hadn’t gone first, they’d have walked blindly into that trap.

You swallowed, glancing between them. Gaz was already reaching for your clothes, Soap and Ghost on alert. Price was not going to like what you did next.

So you just wouldn’t give him a chance to yell at you.

“Meet you back there,” you said, and shifted. You were gone again before any of them could try to grab you, and you knew they couldn’t risk shouting after you.

You ran ahead of them and veered off course. It was dark, but your eyesight was better in the dark than any human’s, especially shifted. So you saw the movement of a sniper, likely scanning for your guys.

You launched yourself at the sniper, yowling. You were no bigger than the average housecat, but you had surprise on your side, and claws. He yelped as your claws dug into his shoulders and arms around his tac vest. A gunshot briefly deafened you, but rather than run off, you lunged for his hand, biting down as hard as you could. He dropped the rifle, swearing, trying to shake you off.

You let go of him and ran again. You doubted he’d go after you, and you were too small a target to shoot at with any accuracy. Especially as you zigzagged away.

So you went on, following the sounds of a radio and check in calls. Your ears flickered, pinpointing the source of the noise, before you crept up.

This one was a woman, tense and alert, scanning for enemies. Your tail flicked back and forth as you debated your approach. You could get to her hands first, incapacitate her. But you’d have to move fast, both to catch up with your guys and to not get shot.

Her radio crackled again and she turned towards the sniper you’d already attacked.

You leapt at her hands, scratching and biting. You thought it would work.

It sort of did.

She yelled and swore and swung away from you. But she didn’t drop the gun.

Instead she swung it at the same time you jumped for her.

Pain burst in your side, sharp and sudden. You tumbled out of the air, landing on your feet and howling. For a moment you wondered if you’d be able to move, if you’d even be able to make it back to exfil–

“Fucking animal,” the woman spat, and aimed the rifle at you. You scrambled for cover, the shot so loud it hurt your ears. Warmth slid down into your left ear, muffling your hearing. Another shot and your back right leg buckled under a line of searing heat.

A third shot. For a moment you expected to feel pain, to keel over.

Instead the sniper went down, blood and brain matter sprayed across the ground behind her.

One of your guys must have shot her. Which meant they were still here.

Running was immediately out of the question. Your ribs shifted, and that crunching feeling should probably be very concerning. Your injured leg didn’t want to hold your weight.

Leaving you to limp along on three legs, woozy, struggling a bit to breathe. There was no way this was going to end well for you.

A soft call of your name had you jerk, swaying a little on your feet, before you looked up at Gaz. He hissed out a soft curse, scooping you into his arms. You did your best to not make pained sounds, and failed.

“What the hell were you thinking?” he demanded, holding you securely even as he ran back to join the others. “You could have been killed!”

“You’re explaining that later,” Price growled, ushering Gaz into the heli before him. “Damned foolish.”

You managed a weak meow, shaking your head, trying to unblock your ear. Blood spattered across Gaz’s front and the seat, but you could hear better at least.

“Fuck,” Gaz breathed, buckling in quickly. “Cap, should we–?”

“I don’t know.” Price sat next to him, also buckled in. A moment later the heli was lifting up, the faint lighting inside allowing you to see the captain’s jaw clench tight. “Not a damn vet.”

The motors were so much louder as a cat, and you pinned your ears back, still sensitive from the gunshots. And then meowed pitifully at the sharp pain from your left ear.

Price called your name, and you jerked your gaze to him. Your jaws had parted so you could pant, trying to get more air.

“Shift back,” Price demanded, firm tone mostly masking his concern. “We can’t help you like this.”

You thought about that for a moment. Shifting was going to suck. Your ribs were almost definitely broken, and would not magically be fixed. Not to mention the sheer strain of shifting that much - coupled with the blood you’d already lost, there was a good chance you wouldn’t be able to stay conscious.

Then again, if you didn’t shift, there was no vet on staff. And it was a lot easier to bleed out as a cat than as a human.

So you shifted, immediately gasping in pain at the jostling on your ribs, tears springing to your eyes.

“Easy, love,” Gaz soothed, shifting his grip on you to keep you securely against his chest. “What hurts?”

“Ribs,” you gritted out, shutting your eyes. “Ear. Thigh.” Your heartbeat pounded in your head and at your throat, far too fast. It was getting hard to focus.

“Thigh is still bleeding,” Soap pointed out from across the way, frowning.

“Yeah, spotted that,” Gaz gritted out. One big hand pressed a cloth down onto the seeping wound on your thigh, hard. You whined, hands scrambling for something to help anchor you. The heli jolted, not a lot, but enough to make you bite your tongue to hold back a shriek.

It was too much - the burning in your ribs, the ache in your thigh, the pounding of your pulse. Your eyelids fluttered - you knew you should stay conscious.

But it hurt, and it was hard, and you were less inclined to fight as the adrenaline left you. Shivering hurt, but you couldn’t stop yourself.

“Hey, hey, don’t you dare fall asleep on me.” Gaz sounded more panicked than angry. Someone wrapped a blanket around you, and you blinked slowly.

Price nodded once to you, though he didn’t speak, since he was on the phone with someone else. Of course he was on your left - you couldn’t hear him quite right, things still muffled on that side.

Trying to focus was way too much effort anyway. You just wanted to sleep.

Vaguely, you could hear Gaz behind you, chanting, “No no no–” But it was too much to keep your eyes open, to ask him what was wrong.

Your eyes closed as everything faded.

Soft, rhythmic beeping drew you out of sleep. Opening your eyes was a monumental task, one you accomplished in increments until you could see the boring white ceiling above you.

Didn’t look like your room, though.

Huh.

You felt like you should be freaked out about that, but you felt too weighted down to get freaked out about anything. You blinked slowly, trying to remember what happened.

The soft breathing in the room finally registered, and you blinked again and lifted your head.

Gaz was asleep next to you, head pillowed on his arms at the edge of your bed. That looked uncomfortable. No way he should sleep like that.

But parting your lips to try to call to him just made you cough, your throat dry and scratchy as sandpaper. Coughing jostled your ribs, pain flaring bright and sudden, clearing the last of the cobwebs from your brain. With the side effect of tears leaking from your eyes as you tried to calm down.

Big, warm hands cupped your cheeks, thumbs smoothing over your skin. “Easy, love, easy does it,” Gaz murmured, gaze flitting over you, as if he could do anything to help. “Best thing to do is to breathe normally, yeah?”

You stuttered through the first few breaths, slowly calming down until you were relaxed again, Gaz still leaning over you. You blinked slowly up at him, lifting one shaky hand to cover his.

“What happened?” You barely got the words out as a whisper, but you managed.

“Water first.” Gaz released you with one hand, slowly, as if he was reluctant, and pushed a button to lever the bed more upright. He held the water for you, making it easy for you to just drink through the straw.

You slow-blinked at him again when he set the water aside. That was better. Not great, but better. You tapped the back of his hand gently.

“Right.” Gaz blew out a slow breath, gaze darting from you to the side table to the machines next to you. “You’re in a hospital, Price is wrangling the doctor. You remember getting shot, yeah?”

“Thigh,” you agreed.

“And the tip of your ear.” His fingers strayed, brushing against the left side of your head, which did feel thick and muffled. Huh.

“Damn.” You huffed. “Gonna look like I got caught in a spay and release program.”

His snort was surprised and a tiny bit wet. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

“Still got my pride,” you mumbled, tipping your head a little to nuzzle into his palm.

“Yeah, well.” Gaz cleared his throat. “You… almost didn’t make it, love.”

You blinked at him, feeling incredibly slow. “How?”

“Not sure.” Gaz scrubbed his free hand over his face. “Guess you lost more blood than we thought, or something. But you were struggling by the time we got you here.” He swallowed hard, looking haunted.

“Too many shifts,” you muttered, trying to grab him with your free hand, and then glowering at the tug and pinch of the IV there. “Must’ve drained me more than I thought.”

“Have you been hurting yourself to help us?” Gaz sounded a little appalled, his gaze somehow more frantic as he looked you over.

You shook your head a little. “Doesn’t hurt,” you reassured him. “Normally not a problem. Just… takes energy.” You hummed softly, nestling your cheek further into the warmth of his hand, nose near his wrist. He smelled much better than the hospital room.

Gaz huffed softly, shoulders relaxing again. “You’ve got stitches in your leg,” he murmured. “And a few broken ribs.”

“Called that one.” You fought to keep your eyes open. You didn’t want to go back to sleep, didn’t want to lose the warmth of his gaze, the feel of his skin on yours. Didn’t want to go back to the distance he held you at.

“It’s okay if you wanna sleep more,” he murmured, leaning in closer. “You need to heal.”

“Don’t wanna sleep.” You nuzzled into his palm again even as your eyes closed against your will.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Gaz murmured, low and solemn, like a promise. “Just rest, love.”

As stubborn as you wanted to be, you obeyed, his scent soothing you back to sleep.

He was still there when you woke next, as was Price. This time, you felt less groggy, but definitely still not normal.

“We will have a conversation about that stunt,” Price said as soon as your gaze focused on him. “When you’re not stuck in bed.”

“Joy,” you drawled, though you relaxed a little at the knowledge that you weren’t about to be reamed. Not yet, anyway.

“Another few days here and you should be fine to come back to base.” Price tipped his head, watching you carefully.

“‘Kay.” You grimaced as you tried to breathe deeper, the ache in your ribs reminding you why that was not a good idea.

“That’ll take a while,” Gaz murmured sympathetically. “Ribs are the worst.”

“Be easier as a cat.” But you just made a face, displeased with the prospect of months of recovery.

“After the stitches come out,” Price interrupted, giving you a stern look. “Not before.”

“I know.” You couldn’t help but pout a little.

Price snorted. “Get some rest,” he ordered, taking a single step forward to pat the top of your feet. He shot a look at Gaz that you couldn’t decipher before he turned and left.

Leaving you with Gaz again.

“How’re you doing?” Gaz shifted closer to you, his knees knocking into the side of the bed.

“Okay,” you said slowly, watching him. Now that you were less out of it, the sudden closeness and concern were… odd. You knew it was him, you knew his scent anywhere. Even in your sleep. Had he hit his head at some point? No, Price wouldn’t let him get away with not getting that treated.

“What?” Gaz blinked at you, gently curling his hand over your free hand.

“You’re… different.” You stopped yourself from saying more. Kinder. Softer. More like you remembered from the beginning, when you’d decided he was your person.

He swallowed hard, Adam’s apple bobbing, and looked down at your linked hands. “Yeah,” he agreed softly. “I, uh. I’m sorry. Been a real ass.” He rubbed the back of his neck, managing to look up at you from under his lashes.

You slow-blinked at him again, resisting the urge to headbutt him. For multiple reasons. Not least of which because it would hurt to move. “Coulda been worse.”

“You’re not supposed to excuse my shitty behavior.” Gaz frowned disapprovingly.

You shrugged and then hissed as your ribs reminded you that yes they were still broken. “It didn’t change anything.”

Gaz looked at you like you were a little crazy. “What do you mean?”

“Well.” You licked your lips and swallowed. Your turn to be nervous. “I wouldn’t have… I mean, I still… Hm.” You pursed your lips. Damn humans for being so insistent on words. Any cat would have known by now!

“You still… what?” Gaz leaned closer, eyes focused on you.

Soap saved you from having to explain, waltzing into your room with water and pudding. “Price mentioned ye were finally up! How ye feel, hen?”

“Alive,” you grumbled, tilting your head to look at him. “You brought food?”

“Just some pudding.” He offered it up and even opened it for you. Because he was a good friend.

“When are these bandages coming off?” you asked in a grumble, already annoyed at the reduced hearing in your left ear.

Soap shrugged. “Couple more days. Leg will take longer.” He tipped his head. “Why?”

“Wanna see how bad it looks.” You grimaced. You were a cat, after all. You had some vanity.

“Badass, more like.” Soap reached over to touch you, paused, and redirected his hand to very gently pat the top of your head instead.

“Not made of glass.” You looked down at your lap, scowling a little.

“Hen. Broken ribs suck. Ah ken.” Soap crouched so he could catch your gaze. “Ye’ll hurt for months. No need to go lookin’ for more hurt.”

You blew out a breath and then winced. Okay. Right. “Good point,” you admitted.

Soap grinned. “Has this dafty even tried t’ keep ye entertained?”

You blinked at Soap. “Uh. Define entertained.”

“Means no.” Soap reached over you to swat Gaz’s shoulder. You half-expected them to devolve into tussling - you’d seen it happen before. But they didn’t, this time. Instead Soap snagged another chair, pulling it up to your bedside with a flourish. “Right! Have I told ye ‘bout my sisters?”

The days passed slowly, but they passed. The hospital was boring. But you did rest, because you were forced to. Gaz was there every time you woke up, even in the middle of the night. Trying to get him to go had earned you the most pathetic puppy eyes you’d ever seen, and you were a bit ashamed of how quickly you caved to him.

Which was part of the whole problem, really. He was still your person, even if you weren’t his.

Gaz was the one who helped you from the bed to a wheelchair to make it out of the hospital. Gaz was the one who sat in the backseat with you, helping brace you and talking you through the pain of every bump in the road. Gaz was the one who brought you back to your room, who sat with you and insisted you boss him around telling him what you needed.

Honestly, it was baffling. Completely baffling. It still felt a bit like he’d been replaced with a pod person, or something. (Except your nose would’ve picked that up.)

The bandages around your head finally came off, and you examined the rough half-circle taken out of the top of your ear, completely silent, while Gaz hovered over your shoulder.

“It’s not bad,” you grumbled at last. “Still looks like I got caught by a spay and release program.”

“Have you ever?” Gaz held your gaze in the mirror.

“No one ever caught me,” you said with a haughty sniff, lifting your chin. “Until you. All. You all.”

Gaz drew in a deep breath, his hands settling very carefully on your shoulders. “We never finished our conversation.”

“Which one?” You didn’t quite have to feign ignorance - you’d fallen asleep talking to him more than once, recently.

“About what a shit I was.” He paused. “And why you’re so eager to sweep it under the rug.”

“Oh. That.” You swallowed, gaze skittering away from him.

“Yeah, that.” He shifted closer to you.

You hummed a soft note, not quite sure how to get out of this conversation, not sure if you should. Then you sighed softly. “For the record. You are an idiot.” You clenched your jaw and then released it. “If you were anyone else, I’d hold that against you for a long time.”

“What about Price and Ghost?”

“Trust me, I’ll be reminding them that they hated me and use it to my advantage.” You smirked. “Cats have long memories when we want.”

“So why aren’t you holding it against me?”

And therein lay the problem. You fidgeted, making a face. “Alright. So. There is one major way we differ from, say, house cats.”

“Okay…?” Gaz looked bewildered but rolled with the apparent change of topic.

“We choose one mate for life. Usually the female chooses. ‘S why Mama’s the matriarch.”

Gaz blinked and then his eyes blew wide as he breathed out your name.

“I made my choice three days into my stay here.” You forced yourself to hold still, to hold his gaze.

“You… But… Even when I…?” He looked… a little devastated, a little hopeful. Pained, definitely.

“Yes.” You shrugged carefully. “The whole damn time.”

Somehow, you weren’t quite sure how, Gaz managed to move around you, getting to your front and kissing you, soft and sweet. His fingers trembled against your cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” he breathed, moving back just enough so he could speak. “I’m such a damn fool. You nearly died and I–” His breathing hitched.

“Easy,” you murmured, lifting one hand to cover his. “I’m okay.” You paused. “Well. I will be okay.”

“Made me realize what an idiot I’d been,” he continued, pressing his forehead to yours. “Made me realize I love you.”

Your breath caught, your eyes going wide. “You… do?”

“I do.” He huffed, breath warm against your lips. “Fuck, I’m so sorry.”

“Already forgiven.” You smiled slowly, carefully nuzzling his cheek. “Told you. Can’t hold a grudge against my person.”

Gaz smiled. "Feel like I should scold you for being so forgiving about this, but it works to my advantage."

You chuckled and then winced. Right. Ribs. "I'll be happy when those stitches come out," you grumbled, glowering down at your leg.

"Just a few more days," Gaz soothed. "Are they bothering you? Itching?"

"No. I just want to shift." You made a face.

"You don't like being stuck, do you?"

You swallowed hard, because that was… a little too accurate. "Right."

Gaz kissed you again soft and slow and sweet. "I'm sorry."

"Stop apologizing, you'll give me a complex." But you smiled, leaning in very carefully to nuzzle his cheek. "Just don't do it again. My forgiveness has its limits."

"Promise I won't." He kissed you again, apparently unable to help himself.

Not that you were complaining.

Your only real complaint was that anything more was out of the question. For the moment.

Gaz held your hand as the stitches were removed. The on-base medic gave you some advice (that you didn't actually pay attention to) before leaving.

You waited until the door was shut to shift. It hurt. It hurt more than you expected, left you panting softly.

But you were once again on four paws. Much better.

"You alright?" Gaz crouched down to be on your level, concern clear in his eyes.

You chirped and licked the tip of his nose, smug. This felt much better.

He chuckled quietly. "Can I pick you up?"

You chirped again, walking carefully closer to him. Walking hurt, but not as badly as when you were human.

It took a little figuring out, but Gaz picked you up and cradled you against his chest, one arm securely under your paws. You started purring immediately, rubbing your cheek against his chest.

The only times he put you down the rest of the day were when he absolutely had to.

Best of all? He went back to hand feeding you, grinning through the teasing from Soap.

You purred the entire meal.

Finally, he headed back towards your room for the night. "You ready for bed?" He asked softly.

You mrrped at him and tapped his hand. He blinked down at you. You looked very carefully down the hall, towards his room.

"You… want to stay with me?"

You chirped an affirmative.

"Well… alright. Just for tonight." He continued down to his room, setting you gently on the bed.

You gave him privacy to change for bed, padding up to his pillow to lay down next to it. Curling up was a no-go, so you laid carefully on your uninjured side.

Gaz settled down with you, kissing the top of your head. "Sleep well, love."

You closed your eyes, purring gently. There was no way you were just staying in here tonight. If you had your way, you'd never go back to your room.

You could be very persuasive when you wanted.

#state of my head #shifter au #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #f!reader

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