Hi!! I hope you’re doing well I really love your writing!! Can I actually request the reader wanting to draw a portrait of Vernon Roche;w;’’ I miss him so so much>w<
A/N: I'm trying to get through some asks in my box and this one just made me so happy! I hope they bring Roche into the show.... but then again they might fuck him up
You tucked the end of the pencil between your lips. Your eyes were glued on the commander of the Blue Stripes.
Vernon Roche stood at a table with his hands bracing the edge. He leaned over a map, brown eyes flickering back and forth to different spots on the outstretched parchment. His chaperone rested on the table next to him. Every now and then, he would run a hand over his face and then back through his short dirty blonde hair.
Your eyes flickered down to his boots, spotting a detail along the clasp that you had missed earlier. You had moved on from the full body drawing of him and instead, you had been working on a portrait of his face. You made a mental note about the detail in his boot, then continued to add shading to a spot along his jaw.
Moments later, you found yourself looking at him once more.
“Why are you staring?” His voice surprised you. Roche had been silent for so long that you didn’t expect him to speak.
“I’m…. I’m only looking.” You tore your eyes away from him and looked instead at the book in front of you.
He turned his head to look at you, a bit curious about what you were scribbling in your book.
“You should be in bed.”
“So should you.” You didn’t both looking up as you added a wrinkle to the crows feet beside his eyes.
“I can’t go to bed yet, not until a plan is made for tomorrow afternoon.”
“What if you can’t think of a plan?”
“Then I suppose I will not be sleeping tonight.”
“That’s unfortunate.” You sighed out, putting the pencil down so you could let your head fall to one shoulder. You were tired and wanted to go to bed, but you wouldn’t go without him. “I think if we go to sleep now, we can wake up early in the morning and think about the plan then. Perhaps you could form a plan better when you are well rested.”
His eyes met yours briefly, an amused grin pulling at the corner of his lips.
“Perhaps, but that is a theory I will have to test another time.”
You let out another annoyed sigh and went back to your drawing.
“All of your plans are shit anyways.” You grumbled under your breath.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me, Vernon.” You couldn’t help the grin that formed on your lips.
“Perhaps you should think of going to bed now. That attitude will only get you in trouble.”
“Oh, I am quaking in my boots, Commander.”
“The disrespect you have for me is appalling.” He left the table and began to walk towards you.
You quickly closed your book and put your hand over the front of it as he approached. You tilted your head up to look at him as he stopped next to your chair.
“What were you doing?”
“Nothing.” You answered too quickly.
Roche braced one hand on the back of your chair and leaned down to press a kiss to your forehead. Your eyes fluttered shut at the rare act of intimacy. While you were distracted, Roche pulled the book out from underneath your hand and in the same instant, he stepped away from you.
“Roche!”
“I could hear you scribbling in here like your life depended on it.” He flipped open the book to the page that the ribbon bookmark was on.
You watched as his features softened, brows furrowing together just slightly.
“What is this?”
“What does it look like?” You leaned back in your seat, tapping your pencil against the table.
“Me.”
You nodded softly.
“I didn’t know you could do this. I-I mean, I’ve seen other things you’ve drawn…. But this is….”
“I can do more than just patch up your little soldiers.”
Roche placed the book down in front of you, his eyes still seemingly glued to the portrait of his face.
“I look constipated.”
“That’s how you always look.” You hummed. Your eyes stayed on him, now admiring the new angle you could see him at since he was almost towering over you. “My mother always wanted me to be an artist. She always said that I had potential to be grand. Perhaps in another life.”
“In another life.” Roche repeated quietly. He turned his attention down to you. “Artistry would never suit you. You enjoy stabbing people with those needles of yours far too much.”
“I only enjoy stabbing you.” You teased. He leaned down to kiss your head. “But you are right. It would never be something I want to do forever. It’s too…. boring.”
“But you are fantastic at it.” His hand found the space between your shoulder blades.
“Thank you. Now will you come to bed? I am exhausted.”
can you please write roche taking care of a reader with hypothermia?
A/N: I mashed this with another request that was for Roche taking care of reader with a broken leg. I lost the ask but I wrote it down!
***
You weren’t sure what was worse, the fact that Roche was furious with you or that he was being silent.
You rubbed your numb fingers together nervously. He saw this, glancing up to you briefly.
“Are your hands still cold?”
You almost didn’t hear him. He was talking so low, so quiet. This was odd for the commander. He was usually loud enough to be heard all the way across camp.
“A-A little.” You answered, teeth chattering together as you opened your mouth.
“Are you going to listen to me if I tell you to go into the tent?”
“No.”
He let out a heavy breath, shaking his head.
“I-I don’t want you-you m-m-mad.” Your stuttered. You were absolutely frozen. Your fingers and toes were numb and so was the tip of your nose. You had thick clothes on as well as a blanket thrown over your shoulders, but none of it managed to keep the frigid night air away from you.
“Well I’m going to be mad for the next few hours. No sense in you freezing to death because of it.”
“Will-Will you go with-with me?” Your voice was quiet and timid. You were usually never afraid of him. You never had a reason to be. He’d raise his voice when he was angry but he never made you afraid. But tonight was different. Tonight, he wasn’t verbalizing how angry he was. He wasn’t even looking at you for too long.
“Y/N-,”
“If-If you come with-with me, I’ll-I’ll go.” You bargained, cutting him off.
Brown eyes met yours.
“You won’t give me any shit over it?”
You shook your head.
He stood up, letting out a heavy breath, and moved around the fire to your side.
Wordlessly, he picked you up bridal style and carried you to the tent.
He was so warm that you couldn’t help but lean into him. You placed your head on his shoulder, tucking your nose into his neck. He didn’t complain about your cold nose. He didn’t say anything.
“I-I’m-I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t change the fact that you almost died, Y/N.” He kept his eyes ahead. He used one shoulder to hold back the flap to his tent. “You can’t just go off into the woods chasing some man-,”
“It-It wasn’t some-some man. It was-was a Red-Redanian soldier. A sp-spy.”
“I don’t care if you were going after fucking Radovid himself! You fucking broke your leg and nearly died of exposure.” His voice deepened as he raised it, angry brown eyes finding you.
You trembled, but this time you were sure it was from his anger.
“I have half a mind to send you back to Vizima.”
Your eyes widened and though your fingers were numb, you did your best to grip him tighter.
“N-No! Ver-Vernon! You can’t-can’t send me ba-back!”
He said nothing.
You were carefully placed down on his bed. He pulled a pillow from the headboard to place it under your knee, propping your broken leg up a little.
Roche made sure the blankets were pulled up over you and that you were tucked in enough to stay warm, then he turned to leave.
“Vernon.” You rasped, your voice weak and timid. He stopped but didn’t turn to face you. Tears, warm and wet, spring from your eyes, trailing down your cheeks. “I-I-I’m so-sorry. I-I don’t-I don’t want to be-be alone.”
He let out a heavy breath, shoulders slumping as he rubbed his eyes.
When he finally turned back to you, you felt a little bit of the weight lift off of your chest. He wasn’t mad enough to leave you alone. That was good.
He got into the bed next to you. Only after you moved the blankets back did he make an attempt to get under them. It was too cold for him to lay there without any blanket.
You tried to scoot closer to him, but it was difficult. Your broken leg didn’t make it easier.
One strong arm wrapped around you, pulling you closer and closer to him until you could properly rest your head on his chest.
“Than-Thank you.”
“There’s no need to cry. Even though I am angry, I still love you.” He reminded you, his voice low. He pressed his lips to your head firmly, his hand rubbing your arm.
“I-I’m-I’m just-I don’t want-want to lose you.” You tucked your nose into the warmth of his neck.
“You aren’t going to lose me. But I-I almost lost you.” He whispered, kissing the side of your head once more. “I can’t imagine my life without you, Y/N.”
You held him firmly, not caring then and there that your tears were getting his neck damp.
“I love you.” He reminded you, his voice a quiet murmur.
