#and tell nix to turn hers on too

[miss-celestial-being]

boop boop

you dont have boops enabled ☹️☹️😞

[chaoticbardlady99]

Nobody's Fool (Astarion x GN! Reader) Part 1

Synopsis: You approach Astarion at the Tiefling party and get rejected. Everyone else and Astarion knows he made a mistake, but you certainly don't.

Author Note: I LOVE Shadowheart- okay. Love her, but she is also my favorite hot girl rival in my fiction. No idea why. I just also love the idea of her being best friends with a Selunite by the end of her journey (or ship her hardcore with an Oathbreaker Paladin)

CW: Sad boi rejection hours, mentions of sex, mentions of Dead Dove.

Based off of a post by @golden-baby

(I also listened to Avril Lavigne’s Nobody’s Fool while writing this and it’s very good if you haven’t heard it)

(IDK Who this gif belongs too, but it is not mine)

You have always been the first person to throw yourself into a situation and help others- it was what had drawn you to being a Cleric of Selune in the first place. 

 You miss being a young cleric studying the life domain under the stars and the bright moon. You miss not feeling so terrified. 

 All this tadpole has brought you is anxiety and fear, you have a feeling it will be okay. You are here for a reason and you trust that Selune needs you to trust her. 

 Meeting Shadowheart had certainly confirmed that- she obviously was plummeting down the wrong path, but she has also flipped this thinking on you a few times. Only, you cannot understand following a Goddess as cruel as Shar. She has obviously brought serious damage to Shadowheart’s life and you are determined to support her- whether she gets away from Shar’s doctrine now or fifty years from now, you will be here to help her when the time comes.

 In spite of your differences, you actually go to the same spot and pray together- farther away from each other, but the sentiment is still there. Occasionally you drink together after a particularly weird or bad day. You find you both can talk about your religious beliefs and you are open to hers which in turn has begun to show her how to be open to your religious doctrine. It’s nice to have someone to talk about the bigger powers at play- even if that person opposes your Goddess so viciously. You don’t really care- you know followers of Shar are hurt people hurting people. They need love just as much as the next person. 

 Lae’zel has been a tougher nut to crack, but you have provided sympathy where you can and support her. You promised her that you would all head to the mountains and search for the Creché. If the cure is there- she will get it. That has made Lae’zel feel better a few times.

 Karlach just wants a good life and to talk about the joys of Life, Gale wants someone to talk to about magic and help finding magic items, and Wyll just wants to feel accepted and like he is still the mighty Blade of Frontiers.

 Then there is Astarion.

 You have been head over heels for the man since he knocked you to the ground and questioned you. You could probably stare at him forever if it wasn’t so Gods damn creepy. 

 You practically bend over backwards to help him- far more than you do for others, anyhow. He seems to like you and you have definitely thought about asking him to go on a date with you at some point. 

 But then you think about how not romantic having a tadpole in your head is and nix the idea. 

  You listen to him whenever he speaks to you, any books you find usually end up going to him. Gale is still pretty upset about the Necromancy of Thay. 

 Any new short swords, daggers, arrows, bows, crossbows, armor, potions, etc- you name it, you probably already gave it to him. You often think you may be far too obvious with your affections, but it’s the only thing you know kind of appeases him.

 Every decision you make he despises and makes a point of mocking you for. Karlach is often telling him to knock it off, but that usually just makes it worse so you just laugh it off even though it hurts. You just remind yourself that he lived as a slave for the last 200 years and you are the first to admit that your Goddess failed to save him. You don’t know why, but it is what it is. Maybe one day he will see that not all people are his ruthless master. 

You also let him drink from you every three or so days. If he is injured in battle- you are first to offer him another drink. 

 Astarion calls you, “Darling '' from time to time and you thought that might be something, but you also heard him call Karlach and Shadowheart that too. 

 You feel so conflicted when you go to bed- he seeks out Shadowheart and never you at bedtime. He spends all night talking to her about Gods only knows what. You are certain some of it is mocking you, but you try to remain optimistic. He wouldn’t do that- you have been nothing but kind to him. What could he even say?

 Tonight is the first night that he is by himself and not talking to Shadowheart. You can do it- just go up and ask him if he would like to take a walk with you. No big deal. 

 “Hi Astarion,” you say softly, “are you having fun?”

“No- no thanks to you, by the way.”

 Your smile falters slightly, but you rebound. 

“I’m sorry- I wasn’t trying to ruin your night.”

 Astarion rolls his eyes and flashes a smile that makes your breath catch. 

 “I suppose it couldn’t be helped, Darling,” he says with a dismissive wave, “you and all your do gooder nonsense was bound to get us here eventually.”

 You smile brightly- happy with the positive step forward. 

“How rude of me- I forgot to ask- how can I help you this evening?” 

  This is the big moment- you can do it! 

“I was-“ you clear your throat, take a deep breath and avoid his eyes, “I was wondering if you would want to go on a walk with me on the beach later?” 

 Astarion blinks a few times and you think you see the hint of a smile- it makes you feel slightly optimistic. 

 Until it turns into a snort and a laugh he can’t hold back.

“You are so naive,” your heart drops, “whatever gave you the impression that I would want to ‘go on a walk’ with you?” 

 You frown, a lump in your throat is beginning to form and you feel so embarrassed that you wouldn’t even know where to begin to explain yourself.

“I- you’re right. I’m sorry.”

“I am glad we could clear that up.”

“Me too,” you say with a forced smile, “good night.”

“You don’t have to-“

 You walk away- all the horror and heartbreak simply being far far too much to bear. How could you be so positively stupid? 

 Your mother always chastised you for this kind of thing- you give and give and give, hoping it will make people love you, but it never works. They will take everything from you and then some because they can. 

 You sit on an alcove overlooking the camp- far enough away that you hopefully won’t be spotted by anyone. You wish you hadn’t- you just barely catch a glimpse of Astarion dragging the all alluring and elusive Shadowheart away into the forest. 

 You are diminished to tears- your heart feels like it has splinters all over it and your stomach feels like it may twist before collapsing in on itself. 

 You are about to give up and leave, but the sound of approaching footsteps catches your attention. 

“It’s just me,” Wyll says with his hands up, a friendly smile on his face, “you seemed like you may need a friend.”

 You laugh and wipe your tears away, “and here I thought I was hiding it so well.”

 “You do, my friend,” Wyll says before putting a hand on your shoulder, “what troubles you?” 

 “You are going to think I’m stupid.”

 Wyll laughs lightheartedly, “I have seen and done my fair share of ‘stupid’.” 

 You inhale deeply and tell Wyll your story- from start to finish. You are a crying mess by the end of it- so much so that Wyll actually maneuvered you and began cradling you in his arms. 

 His heartbeat helps steady you- the connection to nature and the ground is helpful. It makes it all feel a bit better- you suppose.

 You eventually sit back down next to Wyll- your face is blotchy and red, tear stained and puffy. 

“I have noticed that you give Astarion all of you,” Wyll says with a frown, “spirit, body, heart, and mind.

“Maybe it is time to stop- set some boundaries for yourself. I am sorry that you did not get the answer you wanted, but at least now you know and that is a blessing. You can now look for someone who truly wants you and gives equally as much as they take.” 

 You nod. You had hoped to hear more of a, “he will come around” message, but you know this is the better, healthier message. You despise it, but it’s true.

 You and Wyll spend time talking about other things. You tell him how you hope to open your own clinic one day and help people who cannot afford it. Wyll tells you about the Sword Coast, his failings, and his own trauma. 

 He teaches you different constellations, the different flora in the area, and what the fishing season was like when the town was functioning and Wakeen’s rest was up and running. It sounds like it was a beautiful place to live before all of this nonsense erupted.

 It’s fun and Wyll makes you feel seen and appreciated. He still isn’t Astarion, but you know it will take some time before you can look at someone else and that’s okay.

 Wyll walks you back to camp and you don’t bother to look over at Astarion’s tent nor do you go that way like you usually would. You noticed he was back and so was Shadowheart. Both of their clothes were ruffled- it’s been at least two hours so you can only imagine.

  “Good night, Tav,” Wyll kisses you on the back of the hand before engulfing you in a large hug that you gladly accept, “sleep well- tomorrow will be better.”

 You go to your bedroll and begin to open your healing magics book when a knock on your tent post gets your attention. Maybe it’s Wyll. He did say he enjoyed talking to you, maybe he wants to spend the night? That doesn’t seem overly realistic though- he is a perfect gentleman.

“Come in,” you say, still not looking up, “what’s up?” 

“I was hoping I may be able to get a small snack?”

 Oh. It’s Astarion.

 You just fed him earlier today before the party. Usually you would say yes, but Wyll is right- you can’t keep giving him everything and leaving nothing for yourself. 

“I- I am really sorry,” he frowns and his ears even droop, “I am just really tired and I don’t-“

“No worries, Tav.” He says with a forced smile on his face, “have a good evening.”

  You are shaking after he leaves the tent. You cannot believe you just did that. You set a whole boundary. 

 No he did not call you by a pet name nor did he flirt with you. Yes he frowned and it made your heart hurt, but you need to start putting yourself first. 

  You still cry yourself to sleep and you wake up early enough to wash your face with cold water- any evidence of your heartbreak is completely gone. 

     ***********************************************

 You have managed to really avoid Astarion for the last four, almost five days. You let him feed because you don’t want him to starve to death, but you found out that casting “calm” on yourself beforehand keeps your adrenaline from kicking up so you no longer react to him.

 You cry afterwards, obviously, but he doesn’t need to know that. He is right- he never did anything to make you believe he liked you and it was very naive of you to assume he did. However, you do commend yourself for your courage to try and you even walked away with your dignity. 

 At the end of the day, you are proud of yourself and you love yourself more than anything. You will continue your mission and continue to help people because you enjoy helping people. Right now, this group of weirdos needs you and you need you so that you all make it out of this nonsense alive.

 That is more than enough to keep someone busy.

 First there was a Hag to fight, then you unfortunately had to kill a monster hunter (you didn’t talk to Astarion about it afterwards, that is Shadowheart’s job), and fought a bunch of spiders off- which also brought up the Necromancy of Thay argument again. That was exhausting. 

 Astarion opened the door on a Bugbear and Ogre bumping uglies, you also had to really put your foot down so that he wouldn’t send a dark Gnome flying. He was quite frustrated with you, but he understood your reasoning enough to not do it. 

 Then there were the Gnolls and Astarion had opened the chest which caused the Zhentarim guild to attack and try to make you all explode. Thankfully you were able to save that weird artist, but no one from the guild survived. 10/10 supplies though. 

 There are things to be done and places to see. Exploring the Underdark first made the most sense. It upset Lae’zel, but she said she trusts your judgment which warms your heart. 

 It is certainly not a quick or easy journey to get to the entrance inside the abandoned temple of your Goddess. You can hear Shadowheart saying snarky things- Astarion snorts here and there, but doesn’t actually chime in for once. 

 At least you get some relief from that for a day. You wrap your hand around your Moondrop pendant and you already feel the love of Selune flow through you. You kept the statue as well and you keep it next to you- last night you actually slept with it in your hand. 

 You had grown up exceptionally poor and your parents died from some disease in the mines where you were all imprisoned. The mine was eventually raided by Selune clerics and paladins- you immediately knew that is what you wanted to be. Selune had saved you right before you were being shipped to another location and you lived with her clergy ever since.

 You were grateful you had a potion of flying as well as the support of the others to keep the moonstone. Even Astarion expressed his approval when Shadowheart became upset. You waited until it killed the Minotaur, of course. The splash of blood that hit the group wasn’t necessarily welcome, but oh well.

  And at least you don’t have a ridiculous name.

 You snicker to yourself as you walk- earning an odd look from Gale who is covered in Minotaur blood. You urge him to keep talking about whatever book he finished last night and he gladly dives back into the subject. 

 Finding a decent spot to camp was actually pretty easy. The camp is beautiful and your tent is set up next to Karlach’s. She convinces you to make a massive tent fort and Fort Tavlach is born. 

 You pass a bottle of wine back and forth as you talk. Karlach is letting you hug Clive as you talk about the tiefling party and the aftermath of everything.

“Is that why those two are sitting next to each other so miserably?” 

You cock your head to the side, “what do you mean?”

“What I mean is they look miserable and haven’t stopped fighting for the last three days,” Karlach states with a raised eyebrow, “have you really not been paying attention?”

 You shake your head. Karlach gapes at you, chugging a bit of the wine before passing it back.

“Well- I have been waiting to tell you all day, but Shadowheart finally told me what they were fighting about.”

 “Oh, Karlach, I really should-“

“Two nights ago, they tried to be intimate again and he said your name during the act itself.”

 You simultaneously choke on and spit out your wine- some of it comes out of your nose. You can’t stop coughing and Karlach is dying laughing- she is crying she is laughing so hard. You are crossing your arms and uncrossing them in front of your face- a look of bewilderment as you process what just happened.

“mE!?”

 This just makes Karlach laugh even harder, she goes running straight for behind a rock- screaming that she is going to pee herself.

 The entire camp is looking over in curiosity and you just wave awkwardly. You catch Astarion’s gaze from the corner of your eye and he looks sad- maybe even a little angry.

 He storms off to his tent and Shadowheart rolls her eyes, glaring at you before going off to her own tent. 

 Karlach eventually comes back and you both continue your drunken gossip.

“That- that can’t possibly be true,” you say, “I asked him on a date and he told me I was naive to think he would ever want to be with me that way.”

“What!?” Karlach looks like she may light the entire camp on fire, “why didn’t you say something! We could have-“

“No,” you chastise, “he is right. It was naive of me to assume- my hurt is no one else’s fault. I also chose to give him everything I had. 

“He doesn’t owe me, I wanted to do those things,” you affirm, Karlach is smiling softly, “I still adore him, of course, but this is for the best, you know? Wyll says it means I can set my sights elsewhere now that I know Astarion isn’t into me.” 

“That is very big of you. Look at you in your big kid pants.”

You roll your eyes and give her a playful shove.

“He has been hurt and used enough for a dozen lifetimes- I don’t want to contribute to that hurt.” 

“You are a good person, Soldier,” Karlach hands you the bottle of wine, “you know- Halsin would be an amazing lover. I am sure of it.”

 “You think?”

“Oh ho- let me tell you what I think, Soldier-“

 Karlach goes into her wild theories and you try so hard to listen intently, but your drunken mind is stuck on Astarion and wondering if he is okay.

[djarrex]

got you under my skin

ND-5 x f!reader

read on ao3 (more warnings here too) | masterlist

in Outlaws I crash the ship into things on purpose just to hear ND scold me. yeah I'm a robofucker now. can't help it. minors be gone.

The Trailblazer had just landed on the landing pad, the engines whirring as they powered down, when Kay came up behind you where you were tinkering with your blaster at the workbench. Nix jumped onto the table from her shoulder and chirped at you. 

“You good to hang back with ND?” she asked, even though she knew the question was pointless – and it was more of a taunt, no less. You tossed her a sideways glance, rolling your eyes at her knowing grin. 

“We’ll be fine,” you assured her as you ran a cloth along the barrel of your blaster. “We’ll get started on mapping out the next locations.” You paused, setting down your blaster to pet the merqaal, who beamed at you with those large eyes and wide smile of his.

“He can’t hate me forever.”

“ND doesn’t hate you!” She chuckled at that, and opened the side gangway door as Nix jumped back to her shoulders. “I already told you that it just takes him a while to warm up to people. Especially if those people needed their lives saved right out the gate.” Kay winked at you, and you remembered how Kay’s initial relationship with the old commando droid had been rocky as well.

You partially followed Kay as she started to head down the gangway. “I need you to work together on this. I should be back in a few hours,” she called back to you. With a smirk, she then added: “Try to get along until then.”

The gangway door shut and you could almost laugh out of pure disbelief, a heavy sigh blowing out between your clenched teeth. Kay knew just how much ND got under your skin, and if ND had skin, you were positive the feeling would be reciprocated. The droid and you hadn’t been able to get along ever since he’d been forced to save your life just after you’d joined their crew. Months ago now, Kay had run into you on Renpalli Station. You’d been on the run from your former employer and were trying to secure a ride out of the sector. She’d been nice enough to offer you a ticket to freedom, but after those several hours of hyperspace travel–including multiple games of Sabacc, drinks, and shared stories–Kay had offered you a place with their crew. You had certain skills that could be put to use, and Kay had known that, which is what she argued with when reasoning with her droid partner that you would be a useful addition. ND-5 was hesitant, but trusted Kay’s judgment, just as he always had. 

From that moment–the way he’d shaken his head at you while reluctantly agreeing with his partner–you were able to tell it would take a while to prove yourself to the droid. But getting into trouble with the Empire a couple days later really sealed the fate of your relationship with him. Every little thing you did since then had been attempt after attempt to prove yourself to ND-5, that you were worthy of his trust and you were not a liability to the crew, but it still wasn't enough. The dismissive attitude toward you and his overall demeanor when it came to you eventually turned into a sour taste in your mouth, and now, you were just plain bitter. The only friendly interaction you had on the Trailblazer was with Kay or little Nix, but she was always out and about doing her thing with her small companion by her side; which was fine, because she was good at what she did. You were more comfortable hanging back, even if that meant sharing the space with the droid who so blatantly disliked you. You were always able to keep yourself busy, and really the only times you needed to interact with ND-5 was when Kay requested it. Like now. 

“She is still at the workbench,” you heard ND-5’s deep, modulated voice come from the cockpit. He may be a droid, but he sure as hell learned to cadence his speech to appropriately deliver what he was trying to relay. You shook your head and took a centering breath before you made your way into the cockpit. ND was still seated in the co-pilot's seat, as he always was, as he spoke with Kay on the comm. His head slightly turned upon hearing you enter. 

“I’m here, Kay,” you call out, rolling your eyes at the back of the droid’s head. You took a seat in the pilot’s chair, and kicked up your legs, resting them up against the console. “Didn’t you just leave? ND bothering you already?”

“I have narrowed down a few systems that–” ND-5 paused, his head turned in your direction. “Get off of the console.”

“ND,” came Kay’s mock scolding voice. You could picture her facial expression. “Be nice. Now, what were you saying about those systems?”

You tucked your legs onto the seat instead, holding your knees close to your chest and spun back and forth as the conversation carried on. ND and Kay went back and forth about the systems that he’d mapped out without you, and you remained silent for the most part, biting your tongue. Kay disconnected a couple minutes later, but not after tossing out another reminder to get along with one another. 

“So,” you started, dropping your boots into the ground with a thud and resting your elbows against your knees. “I know we told Kay we’d work together on that, but it looks like you already went ahead and did everything yourself instead.”

“Yes,” he told you flatly, clicking away on the datapad held in his long, metal fingers. While you were busy playing with your blaster, I got to work on what was requested.”

“That��s not– Kay had just left!” You practically shouted, but ND didn’t spare you a glance. You sat up straighter. “I know we don’t see eye to eye, and we don’t exactly get along the way crewmates should.” You sighed, trying to calm yourself down. “But I pull my weight, and Kay likes having me here. I made one mistake months ago and I have been trying to prove myself to you but you won’t even let me do that!

ND-5 visibly froze as you stood up, but didn't bother to look toward you. You stepped over to where he was sitting, more words buzzing on your tongue. “And if all this animosity toward me is your way of trying to get me to leave, then you may just get what you wanted. I don’t know what your problem with me is.”

None of the anger died with those last words, but you decided to save your breath and go back to what you’d been doing before – but before you could make it all the way out of the cockpit, ND’s voice arrested you in place.

“Do you really want to know?”

The way it sounded so genuine sobered you, and when you turned around, ND was actually looking at you. It was your turn to be frozen as he stood up, his imposing height towering over you. You felt like shrinking, your chest tightening at the mere way ND was looking down at you. Anxiously, you awaited his next words as you could practically see the gears turning and springs bouncing in his head.

It dawned on you that you’d never stood this close to him before. Strange, you thought, because you do live on the same ship.

“You… are a distraction.”

You narrow your eyes, and swallow hard. “What is that supposed to mean?”

He looked away.

“...Nevermind.”

“ND-5, you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” You huffed in frustration. “You know what? You’re distracting me from “playing” with my blaster,” you tossed out his own words back at him. “Fuck this.”

You turned to leave the cockpit, but ND’s metal fingers found their place wrapped around your arm. He didn’t yank you, or apply serious pressure as you know he probably could have without even realizing, but the gesture definitely stopped you in your tracks. He had never touched you before, not even with the fabric of his trench coat whenever he would walk by. You couldn’t face ND, too concerned with the way your face heated up at the contact of the cool metal against your skin.

He spoke your name, quietly, and the sound of it made your heart skip a beat.

“I can hear a lot,” he started to elaborate. “My audio sensors can pick up what organic hearing sometimes cannot.” 

You finally turned around, feeling even smaller than before with how close he was to you. ND could probably sense how heated your skin was. You were embarrassed now, too – flames kindling all over your body. Never would you have ever predicted that you’d feel this heated from something other than anger and frustration with ND. A new feeling emerged from somewhere deep within you – a lust that must have crawled its way out. 

Your throat felt dry. This was new. 

“...And?”

“I cannot get the sounds you made out of my memory banks.”

You were in shock. ND-5 could hear you – late at night in the semi-privacy of your little alcove bunk. As quiet as you always were–something you’d always take precautions with–proved to be futile when in the proximity of a droid, one who was actually able to speak to you about it – a droid who was apparently making you feel… desire. 

“I did resent having to save you from those Imps,” he continued. “But I have, unexpectedly, found myself intrigued by you.”

You raised a brow and instinctually bit your lip.

“Oh? Is that the case?”

“Yes. I have often calculated how I could pull those sounds from you myself. That is why you are a distraction.” 

You were still in shock, even more so than before. You could say it all made sense now – why ND kept you at such a distance, why he shut you down with disapproving comments and taking it upon himself to complete tasks solo, rather than working alongside you. You could say it made sense, and maybe this was your way to bridge things with ND, to make things amicable with him for the first time. 

This was never something you’d consider before. There never was an attraction until now and it’s growing rapidly, beyond your control. You figure that all the resentment you harbored for him in retaliation was the catalyst – and now you need to fuck it all out of your system. He’s a droid… but maybe that was a good thing.

“Tell me,” you cautiously prodded. Nerves and the newfound desire fought for the reins. “What, um, calculations have you made?”

He was so close that for the first time you could hear the faintest of whirs in even the smallest of his movements. “This is a surprise,” ND noted with a cadence in his tone to match. “I never calculated that you would inquire about this.”

“Well.” The drive took over, and with the newfound confidence, your palm rested on his cool metal chest, just below the jagged scar. You glanced up. “I am.”

ND froze, as if he were computing his next move. 

Maybe you were making a fool of yourself. It wasn’t like you woke up this morning already pining for the droid, and even now, you weren’t even sure how it would work – but something in the back of your head screamed at you, that ND knew exactly how it would all play out – and that tempted you to your detriment.

“Good,” he said quietly and in a way that meant no backing out now. Raising his arm, ND dragged a finger down your cheek and cradled your jaw. Your heartbeat thundered in your ears. “Get against the console.”

You blinked at him. “I thought you didn’t like it when I–” The wordless stare you were leveled with was enough to jolt you with the realization. A devious, knowing smile grew on your lips. “–Oh.”

“If you are going to be a brat–” His hold on your chin tightened. “–Then this will not continue.”

“C’mon, ND. Admit it.” You sauntered over to the console when he released you, arching your back and presenting yourself. It was cheap, and you felt a little embarrassed by it, but you’d tossed all caution to the wind. “You like it when I talk back, don’t you?”

ND-5 shook his head. “Tell yourself whatever you would like.” 

The sounds that came from his metal feet hitting the ship’s floor never sounded so loud and imposing until now. Each thud against the floor flooded you with more and more anticipation, and if you could really focus, it almost seemed like he was purposefully taking his time making his way over to you. Maybe that was part of it, part of his calculations. Whatever it was, it was working. Your cunt clenched around nothing, and you felt your underwear dampen.

You held your breath until you felt his hands on you, then everything came to a halt. He spoke your name again – entirely too soft and genuine and a huge contrast to the way he’d say your name before today. Your heart skipped another beat, and you turned your head over your shoulder. 

“Are… you sure you want this,” he asked. A check-in. A final confirmation. You could not recall any other time when you’d been asked something like this. You were filled with gratitude, and it blindsided you. You weren’t sure how to respond, but your defensive instinct to rub ND the wrong way was prominent, and it kicked in quickly.

After all, you were pretty good at it. 

“Who knew you could be so considerate?” you teased.

An audible sigh came from behind you. “What did I say about being a brat?”

“Fine.” With a deep breath, and with everything within you screaming for you to give in to this, you nodded your head. “I want this.” You took another breath, and offered up just a little more. “I… need this.”

“Yes, you do.”

From the right you saw him toggle a switch, and the viewport’s transparisteel tinted before your eyes. The outside light still filtered into the cockpit, however the privacy settling ensured nobody on the outside could see in.

ND’s hands were on you again, the length of his fingers closing around your hips. He gripped them, offering up more pressure than he had on your arm before. His hands don’t stay in place long; soon the fingers were sliding down and around your front, pausing again where you were practically throbbing.

“If I alternate between rubbing and applying pressure on and off right… here–” ND told you, his fingers having somehow found your clit even from over your pants, “–You will be making those same noises for me in a matter of moments.”

You grin to yourself. “Try it, then.”

A thoughtful hum is what he offered in response, and just as it was spoken, ND started to slide a single finger between your legs, adding pressure to right where your clit was, and repeated the motions. You were so worked up that it didn’t take long for you to start letting your moans fall freely, giving in to exactly what he had calculated. Even though it was so much, it still somehow wasn't enough, and you couldn't help but start to rock your hips against him, dragging your ass against the cool metal of his body that was caging you in as his hand remained cradled between your legs. 

“You really did need it. Look at you,” he praised. “Keep going. Take it.”

Never had you ever considered just how lethal ND-5’s voice could be. The rich, modulated sound of it shot straight through you. You felt like an exposed nerve, and every little sound and touch was electrifying. It had been far too long since you’d gotten off with a partner – but this – this was something else entirely. You started to sweat from the exertion, and the entirety of your body being clothed became too much. 

“ND,” you breathed out his name and paused your movements, pathetically tugging on your shirt. “Get this off of me.”

“Not yet,” he countered, much to your chagrin. You sighed in frustration and started to undress yourself, but he gripped you tighter. “You were close, weren’t you? Finish first, then I will comply with your request.”

You were much too worked up to argue, but he was right – you were close. Relinquishing yourself again to ND’s process quickly built you right back up to where you’d been before, and with shaky legs, you practically collapsed with the intensity of it all. It was barely several seconds later when his hands disappeared and his heavy footfalls moved from behind you, and when you picked yourself up off the console and turned your head, you saw ND sat right back in his seat, spun to face out. The trench coat he wore was pushed back behind him, giving you clear access to those metal legs. Realization dawned on you once again, and you were partially ashamed to admit to yourself just how eager you’d become. 

“Over here.”

Still clearing the stars from your eyes, you slowly made your way over to him, awaiting instruction. 

“What would you like me to remove?”

“All of it,” you told him in a voice far too breathy. ND cocked his head at that, but obliged. You kicked off your boots, unclasped your holster, and shrugged off your jacket, but ND handled the rest, carefully peeling off your shirt then your pants and tossed them over to the other chair. You stood there in only your bra and underwear, mentally batting away the sudden shyness that threatened to creep up and out. You knew there was a huge wet patch staining your underwear, and ND visibly took note. 

“Very good,” ND praised. It was simple, but enough, and it brought your confidence back. He patted his lap. “Sit.”

That one word turned you into a picture of obedience. You straddled his leg, your sticky and heated skin pleasantly bitten by the metal.  

“What else did you calculate?” You took off your bra then, and threw it to join the rest of your clothes.

“That you would be able to reach orgasm just like this.”

“Like how?” you asked coyly. 

“Hold on to me here,” ND instructed. He directed your hands to rest on his shoulders, the rough material of the trench coat beneath your palms. “Yes. Good.”

“Then?”

ND said your name in warning. You couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“You think this is funny,” ND commented flatly. He pinched your nipple, and it hurt. You yelped in surprise, and he shook his head – displeased. 

“Now take it, or get off of me. We don’t have all day.”

Your jaw dropped at his words, but your grip on him strengthened. “Fuck, okay.”

“You have the mouth of a pirate,” he added.

Leaned back in the seat, ND rested his hands on your hips and kept them there as you dragged your soaked pussy against the hard metal of his leg. You could hold on to ND as hard as you could and you’d break your own fingers before he’d feel a thing, so you used that to your advantage, riding his leg quick and rough while clinging to his shoulders for purchase. His bulk and solid weight made it so that he barely budged while you moved, but the seat squeaked rapidly, and it echoed throughout the cockpit along with your heavy breaths.

“Touch me, ND.”

It was almost comical how he looked down at where his hands were grabbing your rocking hips, then back up at you, like a huge question mark hung in the air above his head.

“Touch me here,” you clarified, guiding his hand to your chest. “Like what you did before, but not so hard.”

“Understood.”

ND took over then, your breasts held within his large fingers. You looked down, savoring the sight of his metal digits bending at the joints as he groped you. You kept rocking against his leg, your clit catching against the fabric of your underwear. Moans and whimpers fell freely from between your lips, and ND just sat there taking it all in as you continued to inch your way toward another orgasm. 

“You’re close again,” ND noted matter-of-factly. “I can tell. The sounds you make get breathier, and higher in pitch.” 

You were too far gone to make any type of comment back, sarcastic or otherwise, but he was right once again. You felt it in your toes, a tingle that shot all the way up your legs and to your chest where his fingers started to experimentally twist and pull at your nipples. It felt so good that you could cry, and after another few moments of the same repeated motions, you did. Tears of pleasure started to stream down your cheeks, and your pussy started to clench uncontrollably against his leg. Your legs quivered and your chest rapidly flexed with your breaths. Almost as if you’d forgotten who you were with, your head fell forward and you rested your cheek against the unscarred surface of his chest as you caught your breath.

ND spoke your name, and you shot up. 

“Sorry– I–”

“It’s all right,” he offered. “That was intense for you.”

Smug.

You ignored the comment and made it on your feet, but felt a huge wave of embarrassment come over you as you looked down to ND’s leg, where streaks of your release had made it through your underwear and ended up stained on the metal.

“Let me, uh, get that.” 

Despite your weak legs, you quickly redressed and ran over to the kitchen for a rag. Rather than heading right back to the cockpit, you took a moment to stand there in the daunting silence, a million thoughts bouncing around in your head. Did this actually fix anything? Or did this ruin everything? As if you’d been doused in ice-cold water, all of the pleasure you’d experienced and the thrum of adrenaline was gone in seconds, insead replaced with regret and concern. Everything came rushing back to the forefront of your mind, and mixed emotions with it all. ND-5 didn’t want you as part of the crew. He never did. He put up with you living on the Trailblazer and working the jobs with them because he trusted Kay, but that was it. You were a distraction, and now, arguably, you were an even bigger one. 

You didn’t want to take too long. When you finally came back, ND’s head followed your every move, and he continued to stare as you wiped him off. He couldn’t read your mind, but you knew how analytical he was. Calculating. Always assessing. It made you tense. 

Breaking the palpable silence, ND said your name for the fourth time. Not that you were keeping count.

“I don’t hate you.”

Caught by surprise, and suddenly a little irritable now, you backed away from him as if you'd been burned. You would have been angry before. Now, you felt lost. 

“It doesn’t matter.”

You tossed the rag to the side, somewhere you’d be able to remember to grab it to dispose of later.

“You are part of the crew,” he reminded you. “It does matter.”

You didn’t have anything else to say. In fact, you were so overwhelmed with too many emotions and feelings alike, that you just wanted to retreat to the semi-privacy of your bunk and wait it out until Kay came back to naturally break this newly uncovered tension.

“Come back here,” ND called after you. “We need to talk.”

You stopped in your tracks and whipped around to face him. After all these months, now he wants to talk? You were more confused now than anything, and didn’t really have the energy to be angry, but your defensive instinct to start swinging quickly took over.

“About what, ND? You say you don’t hate me, but you sure as hell don’t want me here.”

“It’s not that I don’t want you here. You are a dis–”

“A distraction, yes, you’ve said that. Message received, ND.” You shook your head dismissively, waving your hands in the air. “There isn’t much more to discuss.”

“I’m sorry.”

That was the first time you’d heard ND apologize to you for anything, and some of the stronger feelings diffused. ND’s heavy footfalls came toward you, and he said your name again, only this time, you truly listened.

“I meant it when I said that I resented saving you,” he began. “But you are here for a reason. I trust Kay, and she trusts you. That is enough for me.” 

“I see.” You look down at your boots. Your face felt hot again as you recalled what had started all of this. “And I didn’t intend for you to, uh, hear me.”

“I know that, and you cannot control how distracting you are.”

You shook your head, unable to hide the grin that grew on your lips. You plopped down into the pilot’s seat and looked up at ND. “Well, what now?”

“We work together to do our job,” he supplied, and took his place in his seat once again. A holomap appeared in a brilliant blue light, illuminating the cockpit. A few planets were at the forefront, the ones that ND had picked out. “Let’s get to work.”

You pulled up the same holomap on your end, but kept your eyes on your crewmate. “So, will you make it easier for me now?”

“Only if you stop being a brat.”

You chuckle. “I can’t make any promises.” 

ND audibly sighs, conceding with a head shake. “I didn't expect anything less.”

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Charles, Monty, and Edwin (Holiday AU: Holi)

Jenny sighs. “Listen, kid, I’m not your father.”

Charles flinches. That’s not- He never said- “I never said you were.”

“Yeah, but I know what it’s like to carry around that kind of fucking weight,” Jenny says, and the breath leaves Charles’ lungs. “To be scared of other people turning out to be like your old man because you’re worried about becoming your old man. But ask anyone- those guys who are head-over-heels for you, your best friends, your mom, who can’t stop bragging about you- and they’ll tell you that you’re not him. And you’ll never be, because you care too much to let it happen. Screw the past, kid- you can be whoever you want.”

Charles feels like he’s been hit with a truck. That’s not- he can’t be-

Charles shouldn’t be spilling his guts to a woman he barely knows. But he can’t help himself, because how can anyone help but stare at themselves in the mirror and touch their face to check if they’re seeing things or if that creature in their reflection is really them? If you can actually see the truth in your own reflection, or if it’s just lying to you and you’ll never be anything more than the scared little kid haunting you from within your very bones?

“But how- god, how do you know?” Charles asks. “Sometimes, when I look at myself in the mirror, all I can see is him. See his eyebrows, his eyes, his hands- god, how do you know that you won’t end up like them? That your love won’t hurt everything it touches if you’re not careful?”

Jenny purses her lips. “Listen, kid. I’ve had shitty relationships. I’ve had a shitty father. But I’ve made something of myself. And you did too. You and I- we both know something about wounds. We both know something about stitches. I took over my dad’s shop and became a butcher because I refused to let him cut me down. You became a nurse because you refused to let the wounds fester. Neither of us are our fucking fathers."

-aletterinthenameofsanity, it came a flower bright (amid the cold of winter)

@charles-rowland-week Day 2: Comfort

Chapter can be found here!

@pappelsiin @itsbitmxdinhere @rexrevri @sweet-like-h0ney-lavender @saffirez

@the-ipre @sunnylemonss @days-light @agentearthling @helltechnicality

@sethlost @catboy-cabin @secretlyafiveheadeddragon @vyther15

@anything-thats-rock-and-roll @queen-of-hobgobblers @every-moment-a-different-sound

@nix-nihili @mellxncollie @tumblerislovetumblerislife @lemurafraidofthunder

@likemmmcookies @wr0temyway0ut @thelakeswillbreakourfall

@sapphic-corgi @occasionaloneshots @troublegoblin

@cairngorm-ard @petesdragon @spacegirlsgang

@fandoms-are-my-lifestyle

[shadowsndaisies]

dogfighting 101: 04 - 'nix is sick of this shit

wc: 595

synopsis: phoenix prides herself on knowing almost everything pertinent, it's the parts she doesn't know that leaves her on edge.

main masterlist

athena-verse master post

a/n: the support with this universe has been incredible, thank you all so much, i really enjoy being able to write shorter pieces as an outlet while working on my 10k an update longer series. (ps: taglist is still open!)

“Okay. What the hell is going on?” Natasha's voice is firm.

Bob to his credit seems a little anxious from where he's stood a few feet behind her. He's obviously trying to respect your privacy, but something tells you he's also there to be a witness for whatever this confrontation was about.

“You're going to have to specify Phoenix,” you tell her flatly.

You were sat on a bench in the locker room, redoing your hair before your next run. You’d needed a moment to splash some water on your face and refocus. Bob and ‘Nix were still in their gear as well, they were next on the rotation.

“Where do I even start? You and Rooster? Him and Maverick? How about Harvard and Yale’s attitude too?” she huffs and you meet her gaze challengingly.

“Don’t worry about it,” is all you offer in response.

Natasha lets out a groan, and Bob winces. “Well it's too late for that!” she huffs, very clearly annoyed.

“Leave it alone, ‘Nix,” you tell her, tone serious.

“No! I have never heard you shout at someone like that, especially not while in the air! Honestly, I’ve never heard Rooster get that wound up either! What the fuck is going on?”

“Seriously, Nat, just drop it,” you tell her, shaking your head.

“I can't! I won’t! I’m going on this mission Athena, you know it and I know it. I don't know why Hangman only ever listens to you, or why he leaves every one else out to dry, but I do not want him leading that team. I need it to be you and Rooster. But if you and Rooster can't fucking get along we're all screwed.”

You frown at her and you understand where she's coming from, but part of you can’t help but stay closed off, especially about this. “Nat, we don't have the time, and honestly… honestly it’s none of your business,” you say voice firm.

The look in her eye turns hard, but you stand your ground. You’d always been able to give it to each other straight, calling the other out when necessary, and drawing hard lines when needed. This was one of those times.

“This isn’t like you, and it’s not like Rooster and there’s something going on that you’re both ignoring,” she decides.

There’s a lot we’re ignoring, you want to say. “Let it go, Trace. Final warning,” you say instead, you’re honestly not entirely sure what will happen if she keeps pushing, you’re not sure you want to see who would win in a battle of wills between the two of you, you know you both will get hurt in the process.

She seems to have the same realization because instead of pushing further, she lets out another groan, “This isn’t over!” she shouts as she stomps off, a bashful Bob in tow.

“I would never dream,” you mutter sarcastically after her, tucking your hair back up, and then heading back to the waiting room.

You want to say the cold water and redoing your hair helped, but you feel just as exhausted as you did after stalking off the tarmac leaving Bradley behind. You see him when you walk in, and his eyes focus on you. Your lips tug down and you turn looking for your next partner.

You spot Fritz still waiting by your gear, and you offer a tense smile as you pick up your vest and sling it back on.

“Ready?” he asks.

“Yeah, let’s hit it,” you confirm, before following him back down to the tarmac.

...

everything: @butterfly-skinnylegend

athena’s tags: @omgbrianab @smoothdogsgirl @bazellawriz @sbrewer21 @inky-sun @djs8891 @rory-cakes @geeksareunique @je6291 @kee-0-kee @fanreader75 @whoismurphyslaw @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

[princesskenny1998]

MHA | Bakugou Katsuki x f!confident!reader ~ Attention, PT. 4

It’s late when Bakugou’s phone buzzes again, the screen lighting up with a notification. It’s another message from you, and even before he reads it, he knows it’s going to push him over the edge. You’d been teasing him for days now, messages and pictures that escalated from playful to straight-up provocative and pornographic. And for a guy with a short fuse and an even shorter tolerance for games, he was reaching his breaking point.

"Hey," the message read. "Just me here tonight. Place feels a little empty." Alongside the message was a picture of you, comfortably sprawled out on your bed but unmistakably flirty, the angle just right so he could see the top of your, very naked, breasts, to suggest more without showing too much. It’s enough to snap any last bit of patience he might have been clinging to.

He typed his response without hesitation: "On my way."

Stuffing his phone in his pocket, slipping in his shoes and stuffing the nix if condoms in his backpack, he strode down the hallway of the dorm, an air of purpose in his step that could only mean one thing. As he passed by the common room, he could feel the curious eyes of his classmates on him. Kirishima, lounging on the couch with Sero and Kaminari, looked up, immediately sensing something was up.

"Hey, Bakubro," Kirishima called out, a smirk forming as he leaned over the back of the couch. "Where are you heading off to this late?"

Bakugou glanced back, his glare half-hearted as he paused in the doorway. "Going to see someone. Got a problem with that?" His voice held its usual bite, but there was a flicker of something else—excitement, maybe, or anticipation.

The smirk on Kirishima’s face turned into a grin. "Ooooh, so you're actually going to meet her?"

Kaminari's eyebrows shot up, and he looked between Kirishima and Bakugou with dawning realization. "Wait, her? Like, the girl you were telling us about, Kiri? Damn, Bakugou, didn’t think you’d actually go for it!"

Sero, ever the instigator, joined in with a low whistle. "Well, well, look who’s got game after all."

Bakugou’s jaw clenched, but there was no hiding the slight flush to his cheeks. He rolled his eyes, muttering, "Shut it, losers," before turning and heading toward the door. Their laughter and whoops followed him out, only egging him on as he stepped into the cool night air, a single thought running through his mind: Finally.

Meanwhile, back at your place, you were starting to second-guess your own actions. When you’d sent that last message, you hadn’t actually expected Bakugou to take it so seriously. After all, you’d been flirting back and forth, sending playful messages and dropping hints for a while now, but it had all felt safe—just enough to keep him interested without crossing any lines.

But now, staring at his last response, a thrill of panic mixed with excitement shot through you. He was actually coming over.

“Oh god,” you muttered, pacing around your room. You hadn’t anticipated him taking the bait so quickly. The messages had been a game, a way to keep things interesting and test his patience, but now that he was on his way, reality was setting in.

Part of you couldn’t help but laugh at yourself for underestimating him. For all his tough-guy posturing, he was still a boy, and apparently, you’d finally managed to get under his skin enough to provoke him into action.

A knock at the door jolted you out of your thoughts. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself, and went to open it, coming face-to-face with Bakugou, who stood there with a look that was equal parts annoyance and anticipation.

"You gonna invite me in or what?" he asked, arms crossed as he stared down at you, his usual fiery gaze even more intense than usual.

You swallowed, letting a smirk spread across your face to mask your nervousness. "Didn't think you'd actually come," you teased, stepping back to let him in.

Bakugou walked in, eyes scanning your place briefly before landing back on you. "You kept pushing. What did you expect?" His tone was matter-of-fact, but there was a heat behind it that sent a shiver down your spine.

Shrugging, you closed the door behind him, trying to maintain your composure. "Maybe I just wanted to see how long you'd hold out."

Bakugou scoffed, moving closer, his confidence taking over as he backed you up against the wall, dropping his backpack to the floor. "Guess you got your answer."

You bit your lip, heart pounding as he closed the distance between you. "Yeah… guess I did."

His hand found your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. For a brief moment, the two of you locked eyes, and all the teasing and playful banter faded, replaced by something raw and electric. And then, with a low growl, Bakugou leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was heated and demanding, filled with all the pent-up tension that had been building between you.

You responded eagerly, fingers tangling in his shirt as you pulled him closer. The intensity of his touch was almost overwhelming, and you couldn’t help but wonder why you’d ever thought he’d be anything less than completely in control when he finally made his move.

As his lips moved against yours, you could feel the weight of every unspoken word, every unsent message, in the way he kissed you—like he was making up for lost time. And in that moment, you couldn’t bring yourself to care about anything else.

After what felt like an eternity, Bakugou pulled back, his breath coming in short bursts as he looked down at you with a smirk. "So," he said, voice low and rough, "still think this was just a game?"

You laughed softly, feeling a rush of confidence as you leaned up to kiss him again. "I don't know, Katsuki," you whispered against his lips. "Are you up for the challenge?"

His eyes flashed with determination, and without another word, he pulled you back into a kiss, both of you fully aware that this was only the beginning.

[cornishkat]

All I Want - One Shot

Bob Floyd x F!Reader

Warnings - just fluff, fluff and more fluff for Christmas.

Summary: Allegedly Bob has been flirting with you but both of you being idiots it takes Phoenix to give you both a little push.

“You do realise he is flirting with you”.

You almost choked on your drink as you stared incredulously at Phoenix who was sat across the table from you.

“Don’t be so ridiculous, he is not, why on earth would he be flirting with me”.

Making a dramatic sigh Phoenix put her head in her hands and shook it,

“Are you kidding me, he is crazy about you and that is him flirting.  And I know that you feel the same way about him so don’t even try to deny it to me”.

“How I feel about him is irrelevant, he is not interested, and he is not flirting with me”

As Phoenix opened her mouth in protest but Bob came back from the bar with drinks and sat down with you both.  You hadn’t lied to Phoenix about how you felt about him but there was no point in talking about it with her, she was convinced he liked you and just wanted the two of you to admit your feelings and get together.  But as you looked across at him now, smiling while wearing a truly awful Christmas jumper.  He turned his eyes to meet yours as he felt you watching him and his smiled widen.  Did he like you, was Phoenix right had he been flirting with you when you just thought he was being friendly.  As you felt heat spread through your cheeks you looked away, focusing your eyes on your drink in your hands.

“Right time for some singing, I hope you have all got your songs in.  It is time to get Christmas started”.

“Phoenix no one needs to hear me sing, please do not inflict that on them”.

“Bob, I gave you plenty of warning you knew there would be Christmas karaoke.  Y/N/N have you got your song in?”

“Not happening Nix, can’t we just get Rooster to play some songs on the piano and all sing along”.

No, we agreed on Christmas Karaoke, I tell you what if you sing Y/N/N I will let Bob off the hook”.

Bob looked at you pleadingly with his big blue eyes,

“Please Y/N/N”

“You owe me big time Floyd”.

“Anything you want, just please don’t make me have to get up there”.

Shaking your head, you turned to Phoenix to see a smug grin on her face,

“Not a word, let’s get this over with before Hangman sings another song”.

You watched Phoenix go to wrestle the mic off Hangman, taking a deep breath and shook your head at Bob.

“Thank you for this, I mean it anything you want Y/N/N”.

“It is a good job I like you Bob and I will hold you to that”.

Phoenix was bouncing up and down and grinning as you joined her, and she handed you the mic.

“OK song is ready to go”.

“What have you put on, I thought at least you would let me pick my own song” “Believe me what I have picked is perfect”.

And with that she bounced back to the table and sat next to Bob, as the music began to play.  You smiled and shook your head as you recognised the music and realised exactly what Phoenix was up too.  But there was no backing out of it now, so taking a deep breath you began to sing.

I don't want a lot for Christmas There is just one thing I need I don't care about the presents underneath the Christmas tree I just want you for my own More than you could ever know Make my wish come true All I want for Christmas is you

As you sang you made eye contact with Bob, his eyes held yours and widened as he realised what you were singing.  Even with Phoenix digging him in the ribs and prodding at him he never broke the stare.

I just want you for my own More than you could ever know Make my wish come true All I want for Christmas is you You, baby

Stepping forward you reached out your arm and pointed at Bob and watched as a blush spread through his cheeks but still, he didn’t look away from you.  Well even Bob could not be in any doubt that you were singing just for him, it was up to him now and if he didn’t do anything about it you could always try pass it off as a joke even if it would hurt like hell.

'Cause I just want you here tonight Holding on to me so tight What more can I do? Oh, baby, all I want for Christmas is you You, baby

The rest of the team were clapping and cheering as you finished the song and lowered your gaze before placing the mic down.  Blushing slightly, you walked back and grabbed your drinking glancing at Bob from under your lashes.

“You were amazing, told you the song was perfect”.

“No idea what you are talking about but isn’t about time you got up there seeing as you have bullied everyone else into it”.

“I’m going, but I’m not sure how I am meant to follow that”.

Phoenix heading up to sing meant you and Bob were left alone at the table,

“Y/N/N you were unbelievable, you voice is beautiful”.

“Flattery will get you nowhere Bob, let’s talk about you saying you would do anything I wanted if I got you off the hook”.

You could see him swallow hard as he started to blush again, it made you smile, it was so much fun flustering him.  

“I meant it, anything you want.  What do you want Y/N/N”?

“Did I not make that obvious in my song?”

“I didn’t want to presume, and I never thought you liked me”.

“How could I not Bob, so anything I want?”

“Anything you want”.

Taking his hand, you led him across the bar, so you were stood next to the piano, he looked at you slightly confused as you stood in front of him.  Smiling you raised your eyes up above your heads at a large sprig of mistletoe.  Bob nervously licked his lips and slowly stepped into you, dipping his head and gently lifting your chin.  He was giving you every opportunity to stop him if you wanted to, rising onto to your tiptoes you rested your palms against his chest and pressed your lips to his.  It was soft and sensuous, and you placed your hand on his neck to pull him closer to you, as he deepened the kiss it took your breath away and you had to eventually break apart to catch your breath.

“Wow, I really wasn’t expecting that”.

“Y/N/N please tell me you mean that in a good way, because I really want to do a lot more of that”.

“Oh, I mean it in a very good way, and I really want to do some more of that too”.

You saw relief wash over his features as he rested his forehead on yours,

“So, what now?”

“Take me home Bob”.

“Yes Ma’am”

You almost managed to make it out of the Hard Deck unnoticed but just as Bob opened the door for you, you heard Phoenix's voice from across the bar.

“About time, I told you I was right”.

Blowing a kiss at her you stepped out into the evening air with Bob’s hand in yours.

[waywardxrhea]

Part of Your World - George Weasley

Chapter 4

pairing: George Weasley x fem!Muggle!reader

installment list / previous chapter / next chapter

word count: 3,390

content: humor, fluff, suggestive comments (George is a cheeky git), angst, protective👏🏻George👏🏻

dividers by: @firefly-graphics

happy first day of the Hogwarts school year! because of this special occasion i have decided to post a second chapter this week as a little treat!

One morning a few weeks later you woke up from your slumber in George’s bed alone. You checked the clock on the wall and realised that you had slept in way later than you intended. I hope Mum and Dad aren’t too worried… you thought to yourself. You thought this because every time you went to George’s, you left your phone at home as an excuse for not contacting them while you were gone. Your phone wouldn’t work while you were there anyway so you were just skipping an unnecessary step in the worrying process for your parents. At least, that’s what you told yourself. 

After getting out of bed and stretching, you quickly got dressed in a spare t-shirt that had been left at George’s and threw on the comfortable bottoms you wore the day before. You made yourself presentable and brushed your teeth before heading down to the shop which just opened a little while before according to the time on the clock. When you caught George’s eye, he made his way over and kissed you quickly before saying, “Good morning sleeping beauty. Sleep okay?”

“Wonderful, thank you,” you told him with a smile.

“Look, everyone’s here! Come say hello with me,” George told you while taking your hand and guiding you toward the area of the shop where Ginny, Ron, Harry, and a girl you didn’t recognize were standing. 

As you got into earshot of the conversation, you heard Fred telling the young woman, “Muggle magic tricks! For freaks like Dad who enjoy all the Muggle stuff! They aren’t the fastest sellers. I wanted to nix them, but George told me no. They hold a certain…sentimental value to him. They’re how he met his girlfriend. We were testing them out in the park and-”

“The rest is history,” George finished while squeezing your hand in his. “Hermione, this is my beautiful girlfriend.” He told her your name before leaning in for a quick kiss on your lips.

“George!” you said bashfully after he pulled away as a blush crept its way onto your cheeks. You turned your attention back to Hermione and said, “It’s nice to meet you. If I remember right, you’re the Muggle-born that saved George from, in his words, looking daft on our first date?”

Hermione laughed and nodded, telling you, “That’s me. Hermione Granger, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

As Fred and George tugged Harry off toward the backroom for a tour of the shop, you looked Hermione in the face for a few moments before saying, “You seem so familiar, have we met before?”

“You seem familiar too... What is it that your parents do?” she asked.

“My mum gives voice lessons and works at a pub and Dad is an orthodontist by day,” you replied. 

Hermione snapped her fingers and said, “That’s it! I went to your dad for braces! My parents are both dentists and they make referrals to him all the time!”

“Yes! I must have seen you in the office when I had mine too!” you said, the pieces clicking together in your head. 

“The whole wide world of Muggles and your parents know each other! Blimey,” said Ron with a scoff.

“Well when they both work in the same profession, it isn’t that small of a chance, Ronald,” Hermione told him, but he clearly wasn’t listening as he wandered off after his eye caught something on a high shelf. Hermione shook her head exasperatedly as she said to you, “I don’t get how you put up with a Weasley boy, especially one of the twins! Isn’t it…difficult?”

“Difficult? No! Well I mean, not now anyway. At first communication was tough but we found a way around it since,” you told her. 

“But what about… I dunno, Fred and George have just always been so immature and irresponsible, and-”

Ginny laughed and told her, “I don’t know how to explain it, but the George she knows is completely different from the one you think you know, Hermione. At school you just saw the George who loved breaking rules and getting on professors’ nerves, but now that he’s not bound by the rules of Hogwarts…”

“He’s more relaxed,” you finished, earning a nod from Ginny. “He’s sweet and caring and has a wicked sense of humour. Still doesn’t like to be bound by rules, obviously or else I wouldn’t be standing in this shop, but!” 

“Speaking of, I’m surprised Mr. and Mrs. Weasley let George tell you,” Hermione said quietly, casting her eyes around before she did to make sure there were no prying ears nearby. 

“Well Dad loves her, she brings him Muggle artefacts that he works on in his rare free time,” Ginny said with a laugh.

“Mrs. Weasley on the other hand…” you whispered with a glance in the woman’s direction. “Fred says she likes me and George says she’s just on edge because of everything going on, but…some days I feel like she wants to wipe my memory and send me on my way.” You saw George following a tall blonde witch who worked at the shop and added, “I think she’d much rather see George with Verity than me...”

“Oh come off it, George would never go for that,” Ginny told you. She rolled her eyes and a smile teased her lips as she said, “You should see the way he looks at you. It’s appalling.” 

The three of you laughed at the remark before Fred swept back over and asked, “Have you ladies found our Wonder Witch products yet?”

Fred led the three of you to a display surrounded by young witches and Ginny commented, “Well it’s really…pink.”

“Best line of love potions you’ll find anywhere,” Fred told her.

“Do they work?” asked Ginny sceptically. She defended their potion making skills, but even she knew that love potions were a N.E.W.T level skill and the twins certainly did not take those classes. What she didn't know was how much time they spent in the flat above the shop working on their alchemy skills. It was something you were fascinated by and would spend hours listening to George ramble on about the art and science of it while he experimented with books strewn around him and floating in the air while ingredients did the same.

You focused back in on the conversation as Fred said to his sister, “Of course they work, for up to twenty-four hours at a time depending on the weight of the boy in question-”

“And the attractiveness of the girl,” George finished, appearing out of nowhere. “I had my lovely girlfriend test one on me before we released them and-” 

“Let’s not finish that sentence with young witches standing so close!” you scolded while lightly elbowing his ribs. 

Ginny closed her eyes and sighed, mumbling, “Hermione, please erase the last few seconds of my memory.”

George wiggled his eyebrows at you and chuckled before getting serious again, telling Ginny, “We aren’t selling them to our little sister though. Not when she’s already got five boys on the go from what we’ve-”

“Whatever Ron’s told you is a big fat lie,” Ginny told him quickly. She picked up a product from the shelf and changed the subject, asking, “What’s this?”

“Guaranteed ten-second pimple vanisher,” Fred told her.

“Literal life saver,” you told her, remembering when you broke out a few days before opening night of Mary Poppins and George gave you some of the product to help clear your skin. 

“It works on pimples, boils, blackheads, the lot,” George said.

“Yes, but don’t change the subject,” Fred told Ginny. “Are you or are you not going out with a boy called Dean Thomas?”

“Yes I am, but last time I checked, he was one boy, not five,” Ginny snipped. She turned and saw a cage full of pink and purple fuzz balls and asked quickly, “What are those?”

“Pygmy Puffs. They’re miniature Puffskeins. We can’t breed them fast enough,” George replied. Getting back on the subject, he asked, “What about Michael Corner?”

“I dumped him, he was a bad loser,” Ginny replied as she stuck her finger in the cage to touch the Puffs. “These are really cute!”

You shook your head and mumbled to Hermione, “Following this conversation is like watching a volley at Wimbledon…”

“You’re telling me!” Hermione said, her eyes still following the conversation with rapt attention. “I guess it does prove that they seem more mature and caring than when I knew them at Hogwarts though...”

Within moments Ron appeared followed shortly by Mrs. Weasley who you greeted warmly. Her greeting to you however was as it had been the last few times you had seen her - clipped and unwelcoming. It cast a feeling of doubt and sadness into your chest but you made sure to keep your feelings hidden in front of her so as to not give her another excuse not to like you.

“Mum, can I get a Pygmy Puff?” Ginny asked.

“A what?” her mother asked warily.

“These cute miniature Puffskeins!” Ginny said, bringing her over to the cage while the group dispersed. Seeing this as an opportunity to make a graceful exit, you made your way back toward the stairs leading up to the flat, sensing Mrs. Weasley’s nerves and not wanting to cause trouble. Well that plus the fact that she probably wouldn’t be thrilled to hear your story about the pair of Pygmy Puffs George had gifted you a few weeks prior. They had been staying in a large cage in your room back home which George enchanted so that if anyone doesn’t know what the creature truly was, they would simply see a pair of hamsters lazing around. 

You made your way into the flat’s small kitchen and prepared yourself some toast before your absence within the shop was noticed by George, who came into the flat and wrapped you in a hug from behind. “Everything all right? Dad was looking for you before they left but Mum was in a hurry to get out of here.”

“Yeah, I just didn’t want to rock the boat or anything,” you told him quietly, the feeling of sadness panging deep in your chest again. 

George nodded. It was a battle he had been trying to civilly fight with his mother and he understood how you felt about the whole thing, but he didn't want to upset you more than he already knew you were. So he kissed your temple before asking, “Did you need to get going soon?”

“I probably should. Mum and Dad have me booked as their band’s opening act this evening at the pub so I should start getting ready soon to prepare,” you told him. 

“I’ll see if I can make the gig when the shop closes, yeah?” George asked as he pulled on a travelling cloak. 

“Sounds good,” you told him before he turned on the spot and took the two of them to the little grove of trees in the playground of your neighbourhood. “Have a good day at work,” you told him before turning to head to the house. 

George caught your hand before you went, pulling you back and into a deep kiss. You couldn’t help but smile in response the kiss, asking, “What was that for?” with a giggle once George pulled away. 

“Hermione told me how you were feeling about Verity and that was just to remind you that I’m all yours. No one else’s,” he told you seriously. 

“Well if those are the kinds of kisses I get when I’m jealous I should get jealous more often,” you said jokingly. 

“Oh you don’t have to be jealous to bring out that side of me,” George told you with a slightly suggestive tone, kissing you once more. 

You giggled after he pulled away again, telling him, “Get back to work you goof! We can continue this another time!” 

“Promise?” he asked with an expectant raise of his eyebrows. 

“Promise,” you agreed with a laugh. 

“Good luck at your gig tonight if I can’t make it!” he told you before he Disapparated to the flat above the shop once more. 

September rolled around and one evening when you were setting up the small stage to open up for your parents’ band, you felt a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. “Hey you,” came George’s voice in your ear as he held you close and placed a kiss on your temple. 

“Hey yourself! I didn’t know you were coming tonight!” you told him with a wide smile on your face as you leaned your guitar against the stool on the stage before turning into his embrace to hug him. When you pulled away from the hug, you were shocked to see that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had tagged along with George for the evening. You raised your hand in greeting and asked, “How are you two?”

“Absolutely fascinated with this pub!” Mr. Weasley replied as he looked around like a kid in a candy store, taking in all the telly sets, the taps on the bar, the jukebox in the corner, the stage setup - everything! You couldn’t help the smile that made its way onto your face at his reaction to the place, a sentiment that was not shared by Mrs. Weasley who forced a tight smile onto her lips in response to the question. 

“Well if the three of you want to grab a table, I can get someone over to take your order if you want,” you said as you made eye contact with one of the waiters and flagged him over. “I will be taking the stage soon, but once I’m done I should be able to join you!”

“She’s amazing, I can’t wait for you two to see her perform,” George told his parents. 

“You flatter me, Weasley,” you said with a blush as you pushed a piece of hair behind your ear while casting your eyes toward the ground. 

“You deserve it,” he told you, taking your hand and squeezing it gently before you parted ways so you could take the stage. You made note of the table he guided them to which was mostly out of the way of the bustling crowd in the pub.

After a quick set of you performing the songs Long Live by Taylor Swift, Photograph by Ed Sheeran, an acoustic version of Youth by Troye Sivan, and your signature cover of Sweet Caroline, you made your way over to sit beside George in the booth with a wide smile on your face, the same one you always had after you performed. “Bravo, bravo!” Mr. Weasley cheered as George kissed your cheek enthusiastically. 

A genuine smile finally slipped onto Mrs. Weasley’s lips as she told you, “You truly do have a remarkable singing voice, dear. It’s no wonder George talks about it all the time!”

“Thank you two! That means the world!” you replied, a warmth building in your chest at her words. 

“Amazing set as usual!” came the voice of your father as he approached the table with his guitar strapped to his back ready to go for the band’s upcoming set. 

“Thanks Dad!” you told him. Your eyes flicked over to the older Weasley couple and continued, “Dad, this is Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, George’s parents!”

“Nice to meet you two!” he greeted them with a warm smile and wave just as you had earlier. He told them his name before asking, “Made the trip all the way from Devon to be here, huh?” 

“Oh, well we were in the area visiting Fred and George,” Mr. Weasley told him, not going into much detail about their visit or travelling means. 

“Right on! How are you enjoying the area? We’ve been living here since the good old punk rock days and never really left that phase of our lives,” your dad said as your mum joined him, her old leather jacket emphasising the truth in the statement. 

“It’s rather eclectic,” Mrs. Weasley replied with a small smile. 

“That’s what we love about the place!” she said. After telling this, she gave him her name with a smile as they shook hands. 

“Pleasure to meet you!” Mr. Weasley told her. He glanced at the wireless microphone in her hand and the guitar on your dad’s back before asking, “Are you two performers as well?”

“Where’d you think this one got the bug from?” your dad asked with a chuckle. “We’ve been rocking with the same group since we were young and reckless!”

“Now we’re not so young and we both wear helmets when we’re out on the motorbike,” your mum joked with a sparkle in her eye as she looked at your dad. She turned to look over her shoulder and saw their drummer waving them over, so she told the Weasleys, “That’s us! Enjoy the set!” before making her way to the stage as she began to hype the crowded pub up for their set. 

By the end of the night Mrs. Weasley actually ended up enjoying herself a little bit, letting her guard down as she listened to Opposition Lies and saw how much you and George enjoyed each other’s company. But when the night ended and they walked back to the Leaky Cauldron with George, she got serious again, telling her son wearily, “Now George, I really hope you’re being careful when you’re out in the Muggle world… You saw the number of people in there and just out in general! What if you needed to whip out your wand to defend yourself if it came to it? What if someone comes after you for fraternising with a Muggle girl?”

“Molly dear, not now…” Mr. Weasley warned quietly as they began the trek to the joke shop. 

A fire lit itself in George’s chest in response to the question and he told her defiantly, “If I have to take my wand out to defend myself or her then so be it. I would do it a million times over if it meant protecting her.”

“George, dear, you need to think about the consequences of-” she tried. 

“I’m sorry Mum, but this is a decision that I’m making for myself! What happened to you saying, ‘When you’re young and in love you’ll risk just about anything for them.’ Or does that only apply to dating someone who isn’t a Muggle?” he snapped as he unlocked the door to the shop. He let the two of them into the shop and closed the door behind them, adding, “I know you don’t like me dating her and I know what you said about the possibility of her being a Death Eater, but I want you to know that you’re wrong about her. She’s the most sweet and caring and innocent soul I’ve ever met and as long as we’re together, there’s nothing you can say to change my mind.”

“I-I didn’t know anyone heard me say that…” Mrs. Weasley said quietly, her eyes turning downward as a frown tugged at the corners of her lips. 

“She did and that’s what prompted me to tell her more about the war and everything going on. Because she deserves transparency about what she’s getting into dating me and…and she’s taking everything in stride. And even though there are some days when I can tell she’s terrified about what I tell her is going on, she hasn’t left yet. She’s strong and she’s brave, Mum. I just wish you would see it…”

“It’s not that I don’t, George, it’s just…” she said weakly, shaking her head. She took a deep breath before telling him, “I just hope you know what you’re doing because there is only so much we can do to keep this relationship under wraps.”

“I’m smarter than you give me credit for, Mum,” he told her as he stepped onto the steps that would take him to the flat above the shop. 

“I know that, Georgie, I just worry…” she told him. 

“I know you do, but just trust me on this.”

Not wanting to press the argument any further, she simply nodded, but still felt deep down that something was bound to go wrong and she seemed to be the only one who could sense it…

a/n: okay the scene in the shop was so fun to write! again, i adore writing the twins banter, but especially cheeky George flirting with Reader! also again with protective George! i. love. him. there was a little angst in here, but that's just a sneak peek into what's to come. but now we know that Molly means well she's just a worried mother, and can we really blame her with everything that's going on? it was honestly hard writing Molly like this because we always see her as the warm and loving motherly figure but i like a challenge and i hope i fulfilled it well!

on a different note, i came up with Reader's dad's profession based on the line in i think the first book that said Hermione had braces (because i wanted their parents to know each other), but as i think more into it, it's kinda weird how Rowling made the point to mention that she had braces but then also says that she's still got the buck teeth. idk. that's just me on details.

anyway! likes and comments are always appreciated! xo, brooke <3

taglist: @v1ckycheesue @superduckmilkshake @reidmarieprentiss

[communicationthroughlyrics]

I Like Your Blood On My Teeth Just A Little Too Much - 18

You're a former military, career oriented security executive who has made quite the living for yourself- but it has always been lacking. Your non-committal attitude has led you down a playgirl lifestyle, never really settling. What happens when your new boss throws you a curveball, and as a result? You end up hopelessly involved with a Hollywood starlet.

A/N: Thanks all that are sticking with this one, it picks back up again, I promise!

TW: Sexual Assault, Description of injuries and assault

2.4K Word Count

Ch. 18: If You Wade Around Forever, You Will Surely Drown

The shock of the statement sent you reeling, yet again. He was awake. The man you saw as a father figure was awake, and you weren’t there. Deep down, you knew that he wouldn’t care if you were there or not- what he would care about is that the reason you weren’t there. The guilt of not being there when he came to cause a pit to settle deep in your stomach, as your eyes went misty. 

“Y/N, we did tell him what you had said to me before we left the ER to find you. He also wouldn’t tell us anything, because he feels that it is your story to tell.” Kris continued, seemingly oblivious to your inner turmoil. 

“Smart man,” you whispered, your icy gaze shifting back to Kris. “Because it is true, it’s MY STORY to tell. I get to know all of what happened, I get to decide who knows what, and if it’s important or not.” Her expression dropped, she knew that you were not going to open up about this. 

“This isn’t a moment of weakness, Y/N. This will help you, this will help us understand him, and help us to help Scarlett.” She tried to appeal to your more logical side, but you were not in a logical state of mind at the moment. 

“Waters ISN’T LOGICAL, Kris. He does whatever. He’s a loose fucking cannon, that’s why he isn’t in the Army anymore. ” you fire, turning your gaze away from her to look out the window instead. 

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” was her response. “So I take it that’s how you know each other?” She asks, shifting her position, lifting her left knee over her right leg, so she can rest her hands on top. 

“Yeah. You could say that.”

“So…”

“So what, Kris? He was my CO in the Army. He made my life a living hell there. Now he’s doing it to an innocent woman, and me for payback.”

“Payback for what?”

You thought long and hard about how to phrase this. 

“Blowing the whistle,” Was your quiet response. “I had seen him do some terrible things. I tried to let it be, to not get involved. But he messed up. He hurt someone and sent them to the infirmary. I had no choice but to say something.” It wasn’t a lie, per se, but you had carefully omitted that it was you who was the victim, that it was you who had witnessed everything because he had assaulted you. That your best friends had found you, taken you to the infirmary, and the rape test gave the brass all the evidence they needed. The reason you had to say something was that he had pushed it too far. Had he not pushed it that day- you wouldn’t have had to say a word. You would have been deployed with Nix and Cam. You could have protected them. But his paranoid measures cost two good people their lives. So now, you try to make sure that their sacrifice isn’t in vain. 

“What did he do, Y/N?”

“Aside from his usual berating, he threw a stone ashtray at someone. Knocked them out.” Was your response, again, omitting the important details, like the rape that led up to the whole ashtray Olympics, or that the “them” was you.  

“Mmm. Okay.” She could tell there was more to this, but wasn’t going to push it. “I’m going to let you rest, Y/N. But Chris and Paul want answers. I’ll try to push them off for you. But you can’t put this off forever.” She stood, a worried look on her face.

“Don’t, Kris.”

“Don’t what?”

“Give me that look. That’s exactly why I don’t tell people things.” Her expression shifted from one of pity to one of knowing. 

“Well, Y/N, you better get used to talking. Because that’s all you're going to be doing while you’re in here.” She turned towards the door.

“Kris?” You caused her to stop and look over her shoulder as she waited for you to talk. 

“Did anything happen to Scarlett?” Kris’ shoulders slumped.

“I don’t know yet, Y/N. We sent a larger detail to her house, but that’s all I knew of.” You shook your head in response, returning your gaze to the windows to look outside. Before you knew it, your body willed itself into a restless slumber. 

*****

You could hear faint whispers in the room around you, but couldn’t make out what was being said. It sounded like Kris, but she was talking to someone and you couldn’t tell by the voice who it belonged to. You tried to focus on the conversation, so you could figure out who was in your room without opening your eyes, and possibly alerting them that you were awake. The hushed voices sounded strained, like they were fighting. 

“You shouldn’t. Be. Here.” Kris whisper-shouted at the other person in the room. What caught you off guard was another female voice.

Scarletts voice.

“I will visit whoever I please. Last I checked it isn’t a crime to check on someone.” She muttered.

“Girls, please!” A male voice interjected. Jim. 

“Jim! Her being here will stress her out more! She needs to leave!” Kris whispers and yells at Jim. You weren’t a fan of how Kris acted since this new project began. 

“Scarlett is her client. They have spent a lot of time together since we picked this project up. If Scarlett wants to check on her, let her!”

“Ahem… still in the room, guys!” Scarlett interjects. 

“And, Jim! You just got discharged, you should be at home resting!” Kris continued.

“No. She came to visit me every day while I was in the hospital. I will be here for her. She’s my daughter!” He whisper-shouted back. 

“What?!” Scarlett squeaked, and both Jim and Kris shushed her. “You’re her father?!”

“Not by blood, no. We’ve kind of…adopted each other in times of need.” He whispers. You could hear everyone shuffling around as the door clicked open. 

“Hello everyone,” you heard as it sounded like the doctor shuffled in. “I’m Dr. Roberts.” The door clicked behind him as you heard him walk to the computer across the room. “I need to run some tests and check Y/N’s vitals. Are any of you family?”

“Well, this is my turn to leave,” Scarlett says quietly, gently patting your lower leg as the door clicks open and shut again.

“Finally,” Kris mumbled. 

“Kris. LEAVE.” Jim barked, sick of the blondes antics. He sighed as she shut the door behind her. 

“I take it you are family?” The doctor asked.

“Yeah, stepfather.” He responded. You suddenly felt what you presumed were the doctor’s cold hands through your gown as he gently tapped your shoulder. You jumped at the sudden feeling of someone’s hand that close to your face. 

“Sorry, didn’t want to startle you, Ms. Y/L/N. I need to check on some things before we discuss discharging you.”

“OK.” You responded, a dry smile on your face. He began checking the cut on your face, cutting away the bandage so he could ensure the stitches were clean and dry.

“How do you feel, Y/N?” Jim asked, a concerned expression written on his features. 

“Like I had the shit beat out of me for hours, honestly.” You groan as the doctor leans you back, so he can begin to probe certain areas of your body to check for tenderness. One of the regular nurses comes in, a bashful smile on her face as the doctor pushes on your side, the bruising now making itself apparent. You groan as Jim grimaces for you. 

“Well, Y/N. You do have some bruised ribs, a mild concussion as well as some minor stab wounds that have started to scab,” the doctor started. “Your breathing sounds ok, so no punctured or collapsed lungs. The black eye will disappear; just try not to bend over to pick anything up for a while.” He continued. “The cut to your eyebrow is stitched, healing as nicely as possible with the double scar tissue. Make sure you keep this ointment on it, to minimize the appearance of the scar as it heals.” You nod as he continues. “It’s going to get purple and nasty looking for a little bit, but as long as you keep up with the scar cream, it will reduce and the color will lighten. Do you have any questions?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Good. Now, please wait here, the OB will be coming in here shortly to speak with you.”

“OB?”

“Yes, Y/N. We have an OBGYN assigned to this case since you were attacked. It is standard procedure.” After this, he nodded curtly and swiftly left the room.

“The personality on that one, eh Jim?” You ask, pointing to where the doctor just left. 

“Y/N,” he warned, narrowing his eyes.  You shied away from his gaze.  “Honey, why didn’t you bring someone home with you? You can’t pull a Wonder Woman with this guy.” His gaze softened as he stepped to the side of your bed. “I can’t always be there to protect you, Y/N. And I’ll be dammed if I have to bury another daughter.”

“There wasn’t time, Jim.” You respond, staring down at your hands, fiddling with the wristband to avoid eye contact. A knock on the door brought your gaze back up, and an Amazonian-looking woman in soft pink scrubs walked into the room. 

“Good afternoon, Y/N. My name is Stef,” she spoke softly, a slight accent making itself apparent. She turned to Jim, a bright smile on her face. “You must be?”

“Jim, my name is Jim. I’m Y/N’s stepdad.” She nodded before reaching out to shake his hand. 

“Dad,” you corrected. His smile grew at the correction. 

“Well, Y/N, this is the first time I’ve seen you awake since you got here,” she started. “There are some things I want to check on, and some things I want to go over with you.” You nod, letting her know to continue. “But, for the sake of this exam, I am going to ask Jim to leave, OK?”

“OK.”

“Now, if you want someone in here, we can ask for a third party to be in here. But they need to be female.” You knew you wanted Kris in here, but not if she was going to keep acting up. 

“My assistant, Kris. But I would like to speak with her alone, first.” She nodded, leaving the room with Jim in tote. Shortly after, Kris came back into the room. 

“Jom said you asked for me?”

“Kris, I want you in here while they do my exam.” You say coldly.

“Ok, sure Y/N.” She smiled.

“Under one condition.” Her face dropped. 

“Drop the attitude, Smith.”

“Wha…”

“You know what I mean, Kris. This attitude you have towards Scarlett needs to stop. She is our client, a paying one. And she is going through a lot with this. This ordeal is not her fault. Quit treating her like an inconvenience, and. Play. Nice.” She looked utterly shocked as you called her out on her antics. “Jealousy is not a good look on you, K.”

“I’m not jealous.” She quipped.

“Kris, I was with you for two years. I can tell when you’re jealous. We both agreed when we broke up not to do this.” She looked like a dejected puppy and sat down in the corner chair. “Kris, she’s gonna talk to me about some shit, and it doesn’t leave this room. Understood?” She nods at you her eyes questioning. At this point, Stef walked back into the room.

“OK, are we ready to begin?” You nod at her, a small smile in acknowledgment. She sat in her rolling chair, rolling over to the foot of your bed. Pulling out the stirrups she guided your feet into them. “Now, Y/N. Medically, you were attacked. You were violated in ways that most do not ever have to experience,” she looks at you, as she puts her gloves on. “For that, I truly apologize that someone felt the need to do this to you.” You nod in acknowledgment. “However, this is something that has to be done as a result, to make sure everything is ok,” she continued on. “If at any time, you feel uncomfortable, please let me know.” You gave her one last nod and felt the pinch as the speculum slip inside of you. As you felt the stretch of the tool, you grimaced at the feeling. “I know, this thing is uncomfortable. I’m sorry,” she started. “You do not need to answer if this makes you uncomfortable, but this will help me understand the extent of any damage or injuries that may have occurred,” she continued. “Do you recall what you were penetrated with?” 

You took a moment, allowing yourself to think back to the last time you were in the apartment.  

“Yes, I do.” You speak softly.

“That’s good. Your recall is intact. Are you comfortable with telling me?” You nod, looking at Kris before diverting your gaze to a spot beside her. You were on the fence about seeing her reaction to this. 

“There were multiple occasions,” you begin, seeing the way Kris’s face drops. “But they used their fingers, their fist, and a silencer for a gun.” Even the doctor dropped her facial expression, and sorrow washed over both women’s faces. 

“Is there any way that they could have inseminated you?”

“I suppose, I’m not sure.” She nodded, continuing her probing as she performed the exam.

“Well, Y/N, the blood work doesn’t show any anomalies at the moment, no drugs or alcohol,” she started. “There is some significant tissue damage to the endometrium and cervical canal.” She stood, removing the tool, and setting it on a tray before removing her gloves and throwing them away. “You will likely develop some vaginal scarring as a result. This may or may not result in painful intercourse, as well as more painful periods.”

Nodding, you look up at the doctor, as she comes over to the side of your bed. 

“If you would like, I can give you some OTC contraceptives, in the chance that you may have been inseminated. With it being a week after your assault, it is hard to tell if you are yet. ”

”A week?” You ask, your eyes narrowing at the new information.

“Yes, that’s correct.”

“I’ve been out for a week?”

“Well, not out, necessarily, but your body has been in a recovery mode, of sorts. You’ve been in and out of sleep all week.” Kris said quietly from the corner.

“Shit.”

CHAPTER 19

[mkstrigidae]

APWH preview snippet!

Since I'm actively trying to work on getting the next few chapters out, I thought I'd share a little future scene with some hints of Jonsa with all you lovely people! This bit is from like, a few chapters in the future bc it's the in-between that's giving me fits right now :) (Fair warning: this is unedited and subject to change! That being said, it's such a fun scene that I can't imagine ever nixing it :D)

“Does he even know that they have to avoid the press?”

“For the last time-“ Sam sighed, sounding completely exasperated, “Dickon knows what they can and can’t do- he’s got enough practice not being photographed from when our dad was the secretary. Not to mention spending time around you when that exposé on your crazy grandfather came out two years ago.”

“I just-“ Jon sighed, blowing a stray curl out of his face. “You didn’t see how freaked out she was when the press caught us at that performance in White Harbor. I thought she was going to have a full-blown panic attack.”

He was immediately derailed by Gilly plopping little Sam down in his lap and shoving a bottle into his hands.

“What’s this all about?” he raised a brow, adjusting the baby on his lap, allowing him to latch onto the cuff of his flannel shirt and start gnawing at the fabric. “You going somewhere?”

Gilly shot him a withering look, but he saw the amusement in her eyes.

“I-“ she gestured, imperiously, “Have not had time by myself to shower all week-“

“Sorry, love.” Sam winced, looking up from his pile of paperwork. “I can take a break from these-“

“Not your fault, Sam.” she waved him off. “You warned me about this conference at the beginning of the summer.” a grin played at the corners of her mouth. “Besides, it works out well- Jon needs a distraction right now from the fact that Sansa’s on a date with your extremely hot and conventionally attractive brother.”

“Hey!” Sam looked wounded, and Gilly rolled her eyes, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“You know you’re my favorite Tarly.” she wrinkled her nose. “How long have you been working on this presentation? You smell like the baby spit up on you.”

“Guess I’m next in line for showers.” Sam said, mournfully. “Unless-“

“Nope- I need my own time right now, Samwell. Did you even hear what I said about why Jon’s bent out of shape?”

Jon had known Gilly since Sam and she had met up north while the two of them were in college. Sometimes, it was hard to reconcile the timid, scared girl she had been with the woman who was currently devoting all of her remaining energy to busting his balls.

“Don’t tell me you’re worried about Sansa with my brother.” Sam snorted, shotgunning another cup of coffee next to him the way Jon was used to seeing undergrads do with jaeger shots. “I mean, this is Dickon we’re talking about. Used to bring wounded animals home to take care of them Dickon? The same guy who cried when we had movie night and Gilly and Rhae wanted to go see ‘Love, Simon’?” He shook his head. “Look, as far as guys she could be out on a date with right now go, Dickon’s kind of the best case scenario. She’ll have a nice time, and he’ll be a perfect gentleman.”

Jon blinked at him, silently turning to look up at Gilly, who rolled her eyes and sighed.

“You’re hopeless, sweetie.” she kissed him on the forehead again, wrinkling her nose. “He’s not worried that things will go wrong- he’s worried they’ll go a little too well.”

“You’ve been spending way too much time around my sister.” Jon muttered, narrowly avoiding little Sam’s grasping reach for his glasses, managing to get the baby to latch onto the bottle before he destroyed any more of Jon’s eyewear. “You even sounded like her just then.”

Sam blinked for a second, his head whipping between Jon and Gilly.“You’re jealous?” He asked, incredulously. “Of Dickon? Wait- you like Sansa?”

“Got there in the end.” Gilly sighed, affectionately patting him on the shoulder before going to shower, leaving Jon and Sam behind with four cups of coffee, one baby, and approximately five brain cells total between the two of them.

“You like her.” Sam repeated, like it was a giant revelation.

“What are we- in middle school?” Jon hissed, immediately turning his head down to smile and make faces at little Sam while he fed him, before glaring up at big Sam again. “I don’t- I mean-“

Sam was just shaking his head.“Of course you do.” he laughed. “Should have guessed- red hair and a damsel in distress? You were doomed from the outset.”

“Shut up.” Jon muttered, flushing. “It’s not like that.”

“Then why are you worrying about Dickon for fu-“ Sam glanced nervously at the baby, “-god’s sake? When Gill was meeting my family for the first time, I remember you told her not to worry- that my brother was ‘one of the best guys you know’ and ‘practically a golden retriever’.”

Jon could tell that Sam, who could not raise one eyebrow without the other, was desperately trying to do just that.

“I don’t know.” He muttered, moving little Sam to his shoulder to start burping him. “Look- I’m attracted to her, alright? It’s a fu- er, a giant disaster that I’m gonna ignore for the rest of my life.”

“Seriously?”

“Stop trying to do that with your eyebrows.” Jon complained. “It’s giving me motion sickness. And yes, seriously. I’m not even going to consider that- it’s just a stupid crush. Besides,” he sighed, rubbing little Sam’s back comfortingly, “Robb’s already dealing with enough right now with this whole Sansa situation- can’t imagine telling him I think his sister’s attractive while he’s being forced to suddenly confront all of his guilt and self loathing every time he looks at her.”

“That whole bro code thing of never dating your friend’s sisters never really made sense to me.” Sam shook his head, gulping down more coffee. “I mean, I’d be thrilled if you decided to date Talla, because I know you’d be good to her.”

“Yeah, don't think she'd quite go for that, mate.” Jon snorted, standing to bounce little Sam around gently. He was just grateful Sam hadn’t said anything else about Robb.

“Eh, wouldn’t count you out completely.” Sam shrugged, smirking. “With that hair, you’re pretty enough to be a girl- maybe that’d be enough for her.”

“You are so lucky i’m holding the baby.” Jon muttered, still bouncing little Sam, who picked that moment to spit up spectacularly down Jon’s back.

“Well, that’s three of us who’re gonna need showers now.” Sam grinned, looking thrilled as all get out that it hadn’t been him. “Wow- his aim is getting better.”

“I’m going to remind him of this when he’s a sulky teenager.” Jon grumbled, wiping spit-up off his shoulder as best he could. “Look- no gossiping with Rhae about this, please. She thinks she’s such a good clandestine agent that she doesn’t always realize that Robb is better at sniffing out her plots than she thinks.”

“Alright-“ Sam sighed, looking back down at the massive stack of paperwork in front of him. “I make no promises for Gill, though.”

“Gilly could give some of my Uncle’s colleagues at the WIA a run for their money when it comes to withstanding interrogation.” Jon snorted.

“Probably true.”

“Where did your brother take Sansa?” Still holding onto a now much happier baby with one hand, he reached down the other to take a gulp of his own coffee.

“He said something about going out towards the Tyrell Estate.” Sam shrugged. “They probably drove out there to see the gardens- he’s said it’s a good road to take his bike out on.”

Jon promptly spat out his entire sip of coffee, staining the front of his shirt as well as the back, and frightening little Sam enough that he started to cry.

“He took her on his motorcycle?”

Gilly picked that moment to reappear, completely clean and with wet hair, blinking at the scene in front of her.

Sam, who couldn’t seem to stop laughing, was desperately trying to calm down the baby, who had started wailing, while Jon’s entire front was covered in coffee and his entire back was covered in baby vomit. Not that he seemed to notice, as his face was white and he was making a series of angry looking hand gestures at her husband.

“I really can’t leave you three alone for five minutes, can I?” she sighed. “Do I even want to know?”

[kaylinalexanderbooks]

Incorrect quotes

Thanks @leahnardo-da-veggie here!

Rules: use this incorrect quotes generator to come up with incorrect quotes for your OCs!

Tagging @mk-writes-stuff @buffythevampirelover @willtheweaver @elsie-writes @rickie-the-storyteller

+ ANYONE ELSE

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

@nebula--nix @literarynecromancy @honeybewrites

I get too excited with these things, so below the cut!

Robbie: So according to the cease and desist order I got, apparently you can’t ‘legally’ be a lawyer if your license is ‘cut out of a cereal box’.

Carmen: If I die, you can have what little I own.

Jedi: Wait. What do you mean "if" you die?

Carmen: My unending existence is fuelled by pure spite, that of which the painful experiences of life have rendered me full.

Jedi:

Jedi: *Sighs* Let me call your therapist again.

Gwen: Without ugly, there would be no beauty in this world.

Ash: Thank you for your sacrifice, Robbie.

Lexi: Question. When they shot Bambi's mother, did you find that a sad moment...at all?

Carmen: I'm sure she's mounted on a nice wall in a fine home somewhere.

Maddie: Oh god, she texted you ‘hi.’’ punctuation only means one thing, Lexi. She's mad at you.

Lexi: No, it's Noelle. She's just being gramatically correct!

*meanwhile*

Noelle: And then I used a period so she'd know that I'm mad at her.

Robbie: A period doesn't say 'I'm mad', it says 'you're dead to me'.

Noelle: I stand by my choice.

Ash: God is no longer with us, I’ll take over.

Robbie: Think you can answer some questions without the usual level of sarcasm?

Rose: If you can ask the questions without the usual level of stupid.

Ash: *Pulls a glass a water from out of nowhere*

Noelle: Where did you get that?

Ash: My pocket.

Noelle: How do you keep a glass of water in your pocket?

Ash: Skills.

Noelle: Okay, who's turn is it to give the pep talk?

Robbie: It's Kelsey's turn.

Kelsey: Don't die.

Robbie, wiping a tear away: Truly inspirational.

Gwen: We’re going to defeat you with the power of friendship.

Noelle: We’re not friends.

Gwen, holding an axe: We’re going to defeat you with the power of incredible violence.

Kelsey, handing a balloon to Rose: I have no soul. Have a good day!

Rose, walking off: I don't have one either.

Kelsey: I never tell people off the bat that I'm gay. I wait. I wait until they say some homophobic shit and then I laugh and am like "you know I'm gay right?" and watch the look of terror on their face.

Maddie: Kelsey likes to say ‘you can be part of the problem or part of the solution,’ but I happen to believe you can be both.

Robbie:

Robbie: I like you.

Maddie: What did you get Akash for his birthday?

Rose: I got him a kitten.

Maddie: Really? Me too!

Kelsey: I also got him a cat.

Robbie: Looks like we had the same idea.

Rose: Lexi, please tell me you didn't get Akash a cat as well!

Lexi: ...I got him a kitten.

*later*

Akash, in his apartment surrounded by cats and kittens: This is the best birthday ever!

[therealslimshakespeare]

Here to beg for smutty Gale and Maureen thoughts 🙏🏻🙏🏻 I love those two

Oh Nonnie, I’ve got a whole one shot charted out that i think you’ll enjoy immensely. Oh how I need time to write! However, let me give you this little backstory.

Our girl Maureen was sulking very hard over not being cool enough to be a pilot -those were the credentials as far as she could see- and having not applied herself very well to her arithmetic as a child, she was having some trouble even cutting it even as a bombardier. It was training, she went through a few crews, there were reshuffles, there were people getting nixed and people getting added and out of the fog came one pilot who actually had been at this longer than five seconds.

And he looked like that. He sounded like that. He took himself so seriously like that she wanted to bite him. And Maureen, I’m sorry to say, had been an excellent trophy hunter of men and exotic game only a few peacetime months ago and just because a war was on, she’d experienced no change of inclination.

She tried to buy him a drink. Got turned down. Allowed the petulance she felt for the whole situation to simmer over and fully had a little cry while he sat on the barstools begging her to understand it wasn’t her he was refusing but the liquor. She bought him a ginger ale instead.

And she called him by it every time after seeing how it made him squirm. Like a little boy getting his head pat for being ever so “good.” To Gale this was a pure mindfuck and one he was pretty sure came from him not yet adjusting to integrated life. Something about the way he lost all his bearings around her, admired things he used to hold in contempt when she exhibited them, and even ended up looking forward to a run in with her like some masochistic fool hopes he trips up and gets lashed for it.

When they start more training runs together, he ends up taking her far more seriously. He had to chew her out the first flight -in that horrible and measured way of his that’s so much worse than a yell- about her clumsiness. She cited her new bombsight as the issue, he called her an ignorant little wall flower without enough math skills. Maureen knew when not to cry, and this was one of those times so instead she just asked for help, and there’s nothing Gale Cleven is so susceptible to as the chance for helping people. Maureen also went back to her bunk after that dressing down and rubbed herself off furiously to the recollection of his intensity and the firmest hand she’d ever been shown.

By England they have become expected to be seen together, not in the way of Bucky and Buck or even Ida and Egan, but rather like Blakely and Douglass. Gale has somewhere along the way list count of the number of jeep rides he’s had to put her hands out of his lap and back in hers. That’s another thing he’s not sure how he allowed, technically he didn’t but she kept disobeying and he has dreams -actual dreams!- of taking her over his knee and dishing out a few smacks her father didn’t see fit to give that pert little ass in her flysuits.

He tells Bucky that once, thinking it a safe and generic thought. Bucky howls over it and places a bet on how soon Maureen’s hand stays in his lap and how soon Buck repays her with a handprint to her derrière.

All this while flying missions. It’s a bit fucked, and sometimes they admittedly both haven’t got much left for this nonesense, the skies take it out of them. Although Maureen would best like to combat those blues by having a man between her legs, and somehow, it feels moderately untrue to Gale to just hop on the next one even though she does from time to time. The way he seems either clueless or unsurprised by it is excruciating.

It makes her have a very venomously honest chat with him once when her courage is sufficiently liquified and he’s got no mission tomorrow. She asks if he loves Bucky instead and the man about swallows his tongue. “I’d understand-“ she’s very firm about it while Gale protests too much. The short of it is some admittance to not being in the market for girlfriends while fighting a war, the fact a kiss between them could get both court marshaled and well, yes, maybe what he needs he gets from his friendship with Bucky. He’s never been in love before and does she really expect him to suddenly learn to do it both ways?

She does. Even after telling him quite strongly that if her were to ask, Bucky would give that friendship to him “both ways”. Which is another topic to get court marshaled about and Gale says goodnight….After having let her chew on his earlobe an indefinite amount of time while she was suggesting this filth. He ends up back in the showers doing what used to be an occasional self care and is now and almost nightly occurrence.

And then. Egan is drunk, Candy is drunk, Biddick is drunk. One of them asks get to punched so they can feel something. One is reluctant as that’s a crazy ass thing to ask. The other is delighted at the opportunity to do so with no repercussions.

And that’s how Maureen badly hurts her hand on Bucky Egan’s face. While Egan goes to meet the new CO, a little knocked about and mildly dazed, Maureen gets hauled to the base hospital by Gale to get those busted knuckles sorted. It’s not a dire emergency, not even worthy of taking staff away from those who need it -this Maureen insists and maybe the staff agrees as after Cleven tells them he’s looking for gauze and antiseptic, they tell him it’s in the back room, have at it major.

And while back there, watching his intent little face cleaning her cuts and his voice gently berating her foolishness and also admiringly asking how she learned to punch like that -she tells him,

“Did you know I’m ambidextrous?”

And that’s how Gale Cleven got his first handjob in the backroom of the hospital.



[holdingforgeneralhugs]

Bitter Pill to Swallow

Chapter 25 (Chapter Masterlist)

Thank you as always to @tvserie-s-world for her lovely screencaps

A very special shoutout to @wecomrades for offering to be my editor❤️ Your time and skills are appreciated more than you'll ever know. This one's dedicated to you 💕

"Well, why don't you fire on them when you see them, commander?"

"Because, when we fire on them, they just fire back. Blimey, it was a nightmare the other day."

Valerie had to turn away and stifle a laugh when she saw the look of horrified disbelief on Dick's face. The 506th had been moved to Driel, relieving the British unit who'd been stationed by the riverbanks. Dick had brought Valerie and Lipton to talk to the British Commander and get an idea of what to expect.

"I see. Well, thank you for the intel, commander," Dick replied tersely. "Now, we'd better go and get ourselves set up on the bank."

"Godspeed to you, chaps," the British Commander saluted them as they left.

Dick was shaking his head in disapproval as they walked away, and Valerie could contain her laughter no longer. Dick tutted in disapproval as it bubbled out of her.

"It's not funny, Val," Dick admonished. "They've been way too relaxed in their approach to Holland since before we even got here, and it's cost us dearly."

"I know, Dick, I know. But you gotta admit, it's pretty laughable that they don't fire on the Germans because they fire back when they do. They do realise it's a war they signed up for, not a tea party, right?"

"You do have to laugh at how ridiculous it is," Lipton agreed, "but this whole thing is shaping up to be a real shitshow. I can't wait to get the hell outta Holland, and I know the rest of the men feel the same."

"Well, for now we're stuck here," Dick sighed. "We just have to make the best of it and try to push through to Arnhem. Easy is being kept on the right flank, for now. The line bends at an acute angle there, so Moose will only be able to have two platoons on the line and one in reserve. Make sure he's aware of that."

"Don't worry, Dick, Easy can handle it," Valerie assured him. "Ain't that right, Lip?"

"Absolutely," he agreed. "And we won't be too scared to fire across the river either."

Dick huffed out a small laugh at that, but his face quickly returned to the strained look Valerie had seen him sporting more often than not in the last few weeks. Desk work didn't suit him, and it was plain to be seen to anyone who knew him. She'd seen him peering out his office window when they'd been celebrating the success of Operation Pegasus. She'd been tempted to go up and check on him, but after the awkward way they'd ended things the night before, she'd thought better of it.

"Anyway, we won't get anything useful done standing around here," Dick sighed, backing away. "I need to find Nix, and you need to get yourselves set up on the line. Make sure to give 'em hell."

-----------

"I swear, if I don't get out of this foxhole, I'm gonna lose it."

"Yeah, and if I hear Arnhem Annie telling me to cross the river one more time, I'm gonna lose it."

The weather had been far from ideal the moment they'd set up in Driel. It had barely stopped raining for more than a few hours, and they were confined to their foxholes during daylight hours because the Germans had the high ground across the river. They were cold, wet, hungry, and morale was starting to wane. Valerie had taken to crawling between the foxholes, both to keep the boys' spirits up and to make sure they were alright. That was how she'd found herself tucked up between Gordon and Mellet one rainy afternoon.

"Look on the brightside, boys," Valerie chuckled, "at least they're playing American music for us in between all those surrender messages. And the supply guys have started bringing Stars and Stripes for us. We've got a regular home from home set up over here."

"Oh, yeah," Gordon snorted, "If it weren't for all the rain, we could almost pretend it was a holiday."

"Could be worse, I suppose," Mellet chimed in. "We could be snowed under. Now, that would be a nightmare."

"At least we'd be somewhat dry," Gordon groused. "I'd rather be cold and half dry than soaked to the skin in a mucky foxhole."

"Alright, I've had just about enough of you two complanin','' Valerie sighed, pulling herself over the lip of the foxhole and crouching down. "Try to stay positive boys. I know it's hard out here, but we're not the toughest damn company in the battalion for nothing."

As Valerie got back to the CP, she was stopped in her tracks by Heffron.

"Lieutenant Landry, ma'am," Heffron started, "Lieutenant Heyliger sent me to find you. He wants you back at Easy CP, quick as you can, ma'am."

Valerie thanked him and sent him back to his foxhole, before making her way to find Heyliger. She moved quickly, worried that there was something wrong. It wasn't completely out of the ordinary to be called to CP, but they didn't make a habit of calling her unless it was urgent.

"I'm here, what's happenin'? Is everythin' alright?" She called, roughly shoving the tarp door aside as she entered the CP. Heyliger was waiting for her inside, his arms crossed.

"Yeah Valerie, everything's fine, don't worry." Heyliger assured her. "But, it's been noticed that you've been refusing hot meals and I'm worried about you. You need to eat, Valerie, to keep your strength up out there."

"Is that all this is?" She sighed, exasperated. "I'll eat with my boys when the third rotates back into reserve. Until then, I'm fine. It's not fair for me to come back for a feed, while the boys are out there with nothing but soggy rations. It ain't right."

"I know, it's not right," Heyliger agreed. "If I could find a way to get hot food out to all the men, I would. But I can't. I can only get it to my officers, and it's important you take it. We may be at an impasse now, but we don't know when they'll strike. When they do, the men need you at your best, and you can't be at your best if you're not eating enough."

Valerie knew he had a point, despite how much she disagreed with him. She'd been refusing meals for days while they'd been out on the line. She'd also been offering most of her rations to some of the hungrier looking replacements. Thankfully, Heyliger didn't seem to know that, or he'd chew her out good and proper for it. All in all, she was starving, but she was willing to stick it out with her platoon for as long as it took.

"Moose, I... "

"Don't argue with me, Valerie," he cut in, shaking his head at her. "I'm ordering you to battalion CP for a hot meal. For once in your life, don't be stubborn. Just go and do it."

She rolled her eyes in exasperation, but she knew he wouldn't let it go. "Fine, fine, I'm going," she grumbled, holding her hands up in defeat. "I don't think it's fair, but if you're really gonna order me to go then I have no other choice, do I."

"No, you don't. Now, get going."

Valerie left with a sigh, trudging reluctantly to the battalion CP. She had to admit to herself, the smell of the food wafting from the mess as she approached was mouth watering. She grabbed a large serving of spaghetti, and was just about to tuck in when Dick dropped into the seat across from her.

"About time you came to get a hot meal," he commented, disapproval evident in his tone. "I haven't seen you around here once since we dug in."

"You have too much time on your hands, if you're keeping track of who comes and goes for dinner, Dick," she quipped, grinning as his cheeks turned red.

"Well... I just... I don't like the idea of you starving yourself out there on the front line. You need to keep your strength up out there," he stuttered, the pink stain on his cheeks deepening.

"I'm fine, Dick. There's no need to worry yourself over me," she assured, shaking her head. "And, my point still stands. They clearly need to give you more paperwork if you're able to track who comes and goes from the mess hall."

"Oh, paperwork is the one thing I'm not lacking in," he grumbled. Valerie paused, taking a moment to survey him. He had a furrow between his brows that seemed to have made permanent residence there lately, and his fingers were tapping an incessant rhythm on the table. In all the time Valerie had known Dick, she was sure she'd never seen him fidget.

"Is everythin' alright, Dick?" She asked gently. "You haven't really been yourself since you moved up to battalion."

"I'm fine... it's... fine," he sighed. "It's just... not what I expected it to be like."

"Well, yeah, I'm sure there's less action, but... "

"There's no action to speak of," he interrupted, shaking his head morosely. "All I do is administrative work. I miss being out there with you, making decisions and getting involved. It feels less like a promotion and more like a punishment at this point."

Valerie nodded, her eyes softening in sympathy. Dick had been in the thick of everything since Toccoa, aside from his brief stint with a clipboard back in Aldbourne. He was good at making quick decisions, and he always led from the front. She'd seen that back at Brecourt, and at the Island too. He enjoyed the satisfaction of a well executed plan, and she could see how being deprived of all that would start to wear him down.

"I get that," she agreed. "You get used to the adrenaline of bein' on the front line every day, and when that's suddenly not there anymore it can take some gettin' used to. Give it time, Dick, you'll adjust."

"Thanks, Val," he replied gratefully, his lips tilting up slightly at the corner. "It's nice to talk to someone who actually understands. Most wouldn't."

"Well," she chuckled, "I'm not most."

"No, you certainly are not."

Valerie's heart started to pound erratically from the fond look he was giving her. Her thoughts inadvertently flitted back to that moment in his office, where he'd given her a similar look and she'd been sure he was going to kiss her. Her palms clammed up as the memory resurfaced, and she could feel the heat rising up her neck.

"Well, on the brightside," she said after a beat, "at least you get to spend plenty of time with Nix."

"Yeah," Dick laughed, looking away from her, "I'm not sure yet if that's a blessing or a curse."

----------

Valerie was discussing movements with Welsh at the Easy CP when they heard the gunshot pierce through the silence of the night. Their heads snapped up in unison, and they shared a concerned look.

"Jesus, Harry, that sounded close," Valerie breathed shakily. "They've hardly decided to break the stand-off with an ambush, have they?"

"Doesn't sound like it," Harry disagreed, "there was only one shot. But, Dick and Moose said they were coming down here to do an inspection, so we better go and make sure they're not in trouble."

Valerie grabbed her rifle and swung it over her shoulder, before following Welsh out into the night. As they jogged down the narrow path, they started to hear a commotion up ahead of them. They slowed, pulling their rifles into their hands and creeping forward cautiously. The shadows started to solidify as they got closer to the noise, and it was clear that there was no enemy ambush going on.

"Dick, Moose, is that you?" Welsh murmured, swinging his rifle back onto his shoulder as they approached the pair of shadows.

"Yeah, Harry, it's us. Moose is down, some jumpy private shot him because he forgot the passphrase," Dick called back.

"Jesus, is he bad?" Valerie asked, closing the distance between them and falling to her knees beside Dick.

"His shoulder is a clean wound, but his calf is pretty cut up," Dick huffed. "We need to get him back to battalion quick, give him the best chance we can of making it."

"We gotta give him morphine, he's in agony," Welsh said as he started wrapping bandages around Heyliger's calf. "He won't make it back to battalion unless we give him some morphine to dull the pain."

Everything after that was a blur, and they were all so frantic in trying to save Heyliger that they became erratic in their actions. Valerie left Dick and Welsh as they picked Moose up to carry him, running ahead to call an ambulance and a medic.

"Gene, there's an emergency," she called loudly as she ran into the med-bay. Roe dropped the bandages he'd been carrying and ran straight over to her, worry evident in his eyes.

"What's happened, are you alright?" He asked, giving her a frantic once over.

"I'm fine, it's Moose," she replied, "he's been shot in the shoulder and the calf. His calf is pretty bad, and he's lost a lot of blood. Dick and Harry are carrying him up now but he'll need an ambulance to be evacuated."

Roe sprang into action without another word. He called for the ambulance driver to get ready to go, then went to gather the supplies he'd need for the journey. Valerie followed close behind him as he rushed out to the ambulance and jumped into the back.

"Tell the driver where they are, chérie, we'll meet them halfway. We gotta give him the best chance we can."

Valerie and Roe sat in anxious silence as the driver sped down the path. She was so caught up in her worry for Moose that she jerked violently against the back door of the ambulance when the driver stopped suddenly. Roe pushed past her and opened the door quickly, turning and pulling the stretcher out with him. Valerie jumped out behind him, searching to see where she could step in to help.

"Valerie said he's lost a lot of blood," Roe said as he grabbed Heyliger and helped the others put him on the stretcher. "You did the right thing bandaging him up to stem the blood flow. Have you given him morphine? I don't see any syringes, where are they?"

"Uh... Jesus, I... I'm not sure," Welsh stuttered.

"Could have been two or three, we didn't... "

"Two or three?" Roe exclaimed, his nostrils flaring. "Jesus, you could've goddamn killed him. You'll be lucky if he survives as it is after that. What were you thinkin'?"

"We didn't know what to do, he was in so much pain, we... " Dick said frantically

"Well, you are grown ups! You are officers, you oughta know!" Roe shouted, glaring at them as he loaded Heyliger into the ambulance and slammed the doors closed. Valerie, Dick, and Welsh watched in astonishment as the ambulance sped up and left them there, the silence echoing in the night around them. She had never seen Roe get that angry, not in all the years she had known him.

"He's right," Dick croaked, "it was so stupid to give him that much morphine. But he was in agony, and I just... "

"It's alright, Dick," Valerie assured, placing a comforting hand on his arm. "You did your best, given the circumstances and the shock."

"It's not alright," he groaned, shaking his head in disappointment. "We could have killed him with a dose that high. I should have kept my head and handled it better."

"It's not your fault, Dick, we just panicked," Welsh sighed sadly.

"He's gonna make it," Valerie assured as confidently as she could. "Gene will take good care of him on the way to the aid station."

"If he even makes it to the aid station," Dick grumbled. "It'll be a miracle if he does."

"Dick, don't be... "

"You two better get back to Easy, tell them they've lost another CO," he cut in tersely, resentment clear in his voice and demeanour. "I'll probably need to write a report on this, so I better get back. I'll see you both tomorrow."

Valerie watched him go, his usual aura of self assurance replaced by sagging shoulders and clenched fists. If anything happened to Heyliger, he would blame himself. He always took it hard when he lost men under his command, and this would be no different. Part of her wanted to follow him, to make him see that it wasn't his fault and he'd done his best. She knew she shouldn't, though, that he'd probably prefer some time alone to process the whole ordeal.

"C'mon Val, we better head back," Welsh said quietly, breaking her from her thoughts. She took one last glance at Dick's retreating frame before turning and heading back to the Easy CP with Welsh, neither of them uttering another word.

Taglist:  @tvserie-s-world @geniedocroe @swiftwordsforwhattheyare @sofietargaryen @cagzzz107 @stolemyspoons @alejodi0nysus @sunflowerchuck @now-im-a-belieber @50svibes @eugene-emt-roe @pennyllanne @televisionboy @ask-you-what-sir @parajumpboots @mads-weasley @tetragonia

[kuriouskobold]

ISAT OC's

So, early on when I started enjoying ISAT, I decided I would NOT make ISAT OC's.

I lied to myself. Whoops! Now I have a whole team of 4 of 'em. Teehee.

This is just a general overview! If you wanna know more, send asks, or wait until I get around to making more Indepth character analyses.

Crystine

"The High Roller"

She/Her

20 Years old, Short (4'4"), Small frame, short-cut gray hair. Outfit ambiguous, nix the cape, and a cool hat.

Paper Type

Also known as Crys (Sylvie), Stine (Noah), or Crysbaby (Mollie), Crystine is the DPS of the party!

Crystine is a glass canon, who also excels at giving jackpot points. They have high ATTACK and LUCK, but low SPEED, HP and DEFENSE. All of her skills end with an exclamation mark, and have a gambling theme, such as: "Full house!", "Flush!", "Snake eyes!", "All in!", and so on so forth. She uses dice as a weapon, and for armor, she has a cape!

Some craft skill examples:

Flush!: Deals moderate PAPER type damage to all enemies. Has a 50% chance of giving a DEFENSE DOWN to all opponents, or a 50% chance to do the same to all allies.

Snake eyes!: Deals minor PAPER type damage to one enemy. Instead of giving a PAPER jackpot point, it instead gives a point for whatever the enemy is weak to.

Full house!: Deals minimum PAPER type damage. If this starts a jackpot, the jackpot type is changed to the enemy's craft weakness.

All in!: Crystine's ultimate skill! It immediately starts a jackpot; however, the next jackpot fails.

Some equipment ideas:

Weapon: Lucky Seven: Has a 5% chance of dealing double damage, separate from critical hits. Also has a 5% chance to hit a party member instead! Whoops!

Armor: Devil's Cloak: 50% chance to heal 10% HP at the end of your turn, 50% chance to lose 5% HP at the end of your turn.

Alright, now to her character description! Crystine is a kindhearted young woman, with a bit of a. Problem. She's not from Vaugarde, but instead from somewhere outside of it. Not sure where yet, but! The town she came from was known for its huge gambling market, and as a kid, she got a bit too into it. And debt ensued. As an adult, she realized this was an issue, and decided to do the noble thing in that situation and LEAVE THE CONTINENT. She ended up in Vaugarde, and met the others in the party! Crystine was the third member of the party, recruited by way of her just being interested. She keeps her past hidden, telling them a different tale each time. No one pries, but if anyone did, she'd tell them in a heartbeat. She wants to get it off her chest, that she's a coward who ran away from a problem, and-

In any case, she puts on a cheerful demeanor, despite her inner turmoil! And as far as she's aware, no one can tell!

But the past always catches up, doesn't it?

Sylvie

"The Meek"

He/They

18 Years old, 5'9", Thin frame, long black hair. Overalls, and a tool belt, but the rest is ambiguous.

Scissors Type

Also known as Styl (Crystine), Vi (Noah), or Veevee (Mollie), Sylvie is the tank of the party!

Sylvie is a tank, who excels at messing with the turn order. They have high DEFENSE, average HP, SPEED and ATTACK, but very, very low LUCK. All of his skills are in lowercase, and end with ellipses, but have no overarching themes, such as: "pack tactics...", "go ahead...", "call to arms...", "don't worry...", and so on so forth. He uses tools as weapons, and for armor he has overalls!

Some craft skill examples:

pack tactics...: Gives someone his turn, and gives all party members a SPEED UP.

go ahead...: Gives the enemy his turn, however after the opponent's turn, all allies get a turn, from lowest SPEED to highest.

don't worry...: All damage is routed to Sylvie for three turns. Gives Sylvie a DEFENSE UP.

call to arms...: Sylvie's ultimate skill! Grants all allies an ATTACK UP, SPEED UP, and a moderate heal. Sylvie gains another turn.

Some equipment ideas:

Weapon: Multi-tool: Whenever you gain a buff, give the enemy a random debuff, and vice versa. When the enemy gets a debuff, you get a random buff.

Armor: OverALL: When an ally is attacked at low HP, 10% chance to take the damage instead.

Sylvie is nervousness incarnate, though for good reason. Bad things always seem to happen around them, so they left their town as soon as they could. Nothing bad has happened since, but they still carry the anxiety and nervousness, thinking everything is their fault. They're the fourth member of the party, joining after being rescued from a cave they fell into. He has an uncharacteristically intuitive sense of humor, able to crack jokes anytime, anywhere. If he feels comfortable enough. And, around the party, he tends to!

Little did he know, something resides in his town, waiting for his return...

Mollie

"The Kindhearted"

She/They

34 Years old, 5'11", Large frame, short black hair, fading to gray at the tips. Apron and jeans, but the rest is ambiguous.

Rock Type

Also known as Molls (Crystine), Ma'am (Sylvie), Mollie is the healer/debuffer of the party!

Mollie is a semi-tank, dishing out debuffs and heals while tanking hits! High DEFENSE and HP, average ATTACK, but low SPEED and LUCK. All of her skills are based on cooking, and all end in an exclamation point, such as: "Flambe!", "Spicy!", "Homemade!", "Banquet!", so on so forth! They use spatulas as weapons, and have an apron for armor!

Some craft skill examples:

Flambe!: Deals heavy ROCK type damage and applies BURN, a DoT (Damage over Time) effect.

Spicy!: Deals minimum ROCK type damage to all enemies, and applies a random debuff.

Homemade!: Heals an ally for 20% of their HP, and passes the turn to them.

Banquet!: Mollie's ultimate skill! Heals the whole party for 50% HP, and grants a DEFENSE UP!

Equipment ideas:

Weapon: Hardwood spatula: When using the basic attack, applies a DEFENSE DOWN.

Armor: Splatter-proof apron: Whenever an enemy is debuffed, heal for 3% HP.

Mollie tries to be a motherly figure, being a generally genuine and upbeat person. She joined the party second, tagging along because "You shouldn't adventure alone! What if you get hurt!?" They don't have too much of a backstory- They were born at a young age, and grew up in the town where they were born. She started cooking for her parents from a young age, seeing as it was the only way she could really repay them, and has refined her art since! Her parents died a bit before she left to join the party. She doesn't know what she wants to do with her life, anymore.

Noah

"The Adventurer"

They/Them

25 Years old, 6'3", Muscular frame, Vergil from DMC hair. Changes outfits quite often, so ambiguous. Prefers dramatic, flowy things though.

Scissors Type

Also known as Noah-dear (Mollie), or Sir (Sylvie), Noah is the secondary DPS of the group!

Noah is excellent at getting action economy, focusing on a ton of damage in small increments. Has high SPEED and LUCK, average ATTACK and HP, but low DEFENSE. His craft skills have no theme, but always end in a period, such as: "Diamond cutter.", "Blade of the wind.", "Crash out.", "Thousand cuts.", so on so forth. He has a katana as a weapon, and for armor, a bracelet.

Some craft skill examples:

Diamond cutter.: Deal heavy SCISSORS type damage to one enemy, gives no jackpot points.

Blade of the wind.: Deal minimum SCISSORS type damage, and grant self a weakened SPEED UP. This SPEED UP can stack and is separate from the base SPEED UP.

Crash out.: Deal medium ROCK type damage, and immediately take another turn.

Thousand cuts.: Noah's ultimate skill! He attacks all enemies for medium SCISSORS damage once for each stack of SPEED UP granted by "Blade of the wind."

Equipment ideas:

Weapon: Zephyr blade: Start battle with one stack of SPEED UP.

Armor: Gem studded armlet: 10% of your SPEED is added to your DEFENSE.

Noah is a bit of an ambivert- They enjoy people, but lord is their social battery nonexistent. They tend to get overwhelmed easily and emotionally shut down, going nonverbal. To avoid this, during battle, they try their best to stay calm, never shouting. It usually goes well! They're the first in the party, setting out an adventure for... Some reason? No one's entirely sure why, but they trust them. Their parents abandoned him soon after birth, leaving them alone in a small town to be raised by the townsfolk- Who were all very nice, and treated them with kindness! However, they decided to adventure for the prior stated mystery reason.

And there they are~! My ISAT OC's! Yay!

[shadowsndaisies]

hangman meets 'thena

wc: 1.7k

synopsis: word is, there's a new pilot on board carrier air wing nine, and she flies for the VFA-14, the Tophatters.

main masterlist

athena-verse master post

a/n: the highly requested hangman and athena meet blurb, let me know what else you'd like to see from this universe, especially things that exist outside the storyline. or even if you just want more of certain characters. This serves as a precursory understanding to Jake and Athena, it probably doesn't answer every question about them, but it might help you see their foundation a bit better. but special shoutout to @djs8891 @tgmreader @rory-cakes and @fanreader75 for asking specifically about hangman and athenas dynamic (mentions at the end as well)

You’d heard of him, everyone active had. The only active aviator with a confirmed kill, never mind that your dad had two.

Hangman was exactly what you expected if you were honest.

Phoenix, who had taken an instant liking to you as soon as you’d been reassigned to the Tophatters, had filled you in on all the Lemoore gossip. Phoenix flew with the VFA-41, the Black Aces, also based out of Lemoore, and in fact, on the same carrier as you, Commander, Carrier Air Wing Nine. Her first order of business was getting you caught up on the carrier, that included learning the players, and while she was happy to introduce you to different Naval officers, the only one she warned against was Hangman.

Someone really should have told her that at your core, you were your father’s daughter.

Let it be known, you did not go looking for him. He appeared in all his Ken Doll Aviator glory as you were doing a morning check on your F/A 18E. Apparently he also flew an F/A 18E, ‘Nix on the other hand had an F/A 18F, as she normally flew with a WSO.

He approached, full of cocky attitude, and maybe it was all the years being raised by both Ice and Mav, but when he spoke it was like you could understand him just as fluently as you did with them. You could see where Nat was coming from with “honestly, Athena, Hangman in two words? Texan Douchewad.”

“Well, Howdy, darlin’, scuttlebutt was that there was a new girl on board, glad to meet you, name’s Hangman,” was his introduction.

You couldn’t help the smirk when he said girl, “Isn’t the hallmark of a proper southern boy, that he’s, well, proper?” you shoot back, eye brow quirked. “I’m a woman, not a girl.”

It was fun, watching the way his smirk melted, how his brow furrowed, as he tried to catch up.

“You-”

“Phoenix gave me a run down, but to be honest, I’ve always preferred forming my own perceptions,” you shrug, as you continue your check.

As you brush past him, you aren’t surprised to hear him following after you. “Ah, so my reputation precedes me then?” he muses, and you can see the way he uses his charm and humor to cover, a shield of bravado, too bad he didn’t realize you were raised by bravado.

“Not exactly, though I did see your plaque at Top Gun, to be fair, I saw Phoenix’s too,” you shrug again.

“So you’re the fresh blood, huh?” he prompts, and finally you turn and smile at him.

“I guess fresh blood is better than being called new girl. Name’s Athena, you’d do well to use it,” you tell him, smile in place.

“Athena? As in th4e Greek goddess of war and wisdom?” he asks, brows furrowed down.

“That’s the one,” you nod, moving to check the landing gear.

“Athena as in, the Naval Aviator who climbed through the ranks and had two separate stations before she went to Top Gun?” he follows up and you turn.

You turn to face Hangman, and now your brows are pulled, “How’d you know that?”

“I keep tabs on things that pique my interest,” he shrugs, and your lip curls on the end. “Rumor was you had Admirals arguing over who got you under their command…”

“Nice to meet you Hangman,” you decide finally, climbing back from under the plane, and offering him your hand.

“Pleasure’s mine, Miss Athena,” he smirks back. “It true your old man flew too?” he tacks the question on as he shakes your hand.

You can see it in his eyes, nepotism, you know it’s where is brain’s gone. It’s like you couldn’t escape it, everyone assumed that’s how you got as far as you have, as quick as you have. They were wrong.

“Yeah, mostly f-14s though, nothing with the juice of my baby,” you straight up lie, so what if your dad was still flying? So what if he was probably flying f/a-18s or something experimental? No one but you needed the specifics, and you’re pretty sure it wouldn’t help you fight against the nepo-baby claims. Too bad no one realized how much of a detriment being attached to Maverick actually was. It made most of the higher ups uneasy about taking you on, unsure if you’d inherited your father’s need for speed and reckless streak, you had, but you were just better than him at keeping it in check, if Ice taught you anything, it was that — “ice cold, kiddo, no mistakes.”

“Must’ve been nice, having a leg up like that,” he’s still smiling as he talks down at you.

You match his smile and catch the flicker of confusion in his eyes as you walk up closer to him. “It was, see, it prepared me for a lifetime of dealing with cocky naval aviators and their inflated sense of bubble wrap bravado.”

“That all?” he presses, staring down at you, the two of you now face to face, staring hard at each other, but you caught the little twitch of his eye at your term.

“No,” you smirk before turning and walking away, “but I’ve got a hop to prep for, see you around Hangman.”

…

He finds you in the Mess later that day. You’d just returned from morning drills with your squad, and was eating with Phoenix.

“Ladies,” he greets, setting his own tray down in the seat opposite you.

“And I’ve officially lost my appetite,” Phoenix decided, standing up. “Athena, I’ll catch you later, I’d say it’s nice to see you, Bagman, but we know better,” she states, grabbing her tray, patting your shoulder and walking away.

“You sure know how to clear a room, Hangman,” you note, eyes flicking to Phoenix over Hangman’s shoulder, Nat was clearing her tray and pauses to look back and roll her eyes dramatically as she looks at Hangman’s back.

Your lip twitches and you lift your glass of water to cover up the smile threatening to split your lips.

“Bubble wrap bravado,” Hangman repeats back to you, echoing your statement from yesterday.

“What about it?” you challenge.

“Explain it to me,” it’s not a question, not in how it’s phrased, but you understand that he is asking.

“Protective to an extent, easier to pop than you think, so long as you apply the pressure properly. Problem is, everyone knows when it does, it’s usually a bit loud,” you explain, and he seems so incredibly focused on you.

You didn’t mind the hyper-focus though, you’d coined the term a long time ago. It had originally been for a different boy, one with a temper, but who you’d watched grow up. Ice had thought it an apt descriptor, he’d even taken it to describe a few officer’s he’d interacted with over the years.

“Hmm,” he hums, eyes glued to yours.

“You disagree?” you ask.

“No. I think you hit it on the head,” he admits and your lips curl up just the slightest bit, at least he seemed honest… cock sure and stubborn too, but honest.

“A naval aviator for a father was a lot of things, Hangman,” you admit, hesitating for a moment, deciding how much you wanted to say. “It was limited time, and firm goodbyes. It was getting behind a yoke for the first time when I was 12. It was learning ranks at the same time I was learning how to do multiplication,” you say, and you study how his expression changed which each revelation. “Having a Naval Aviator for a father might have given me a home field advantage, but that’s all it did. The rest, the wings, the assignments, I earned those,” you tell him seriously.

“Sure you did,” he nods along condescendingly, but his eyes betray his curiosity, and for now, that was enough for you.

You smile again at him, though this time it is a bit sour. “You don’t believe me, that’s fine, fair even, to be skeptical. But you should know, you’re gonna eat crow when you realize how wrong you were,” you tell him seriously, before standing up with your plate and glass, and walking away.

…

You get your chance to prove him wrong just a few days later when the Tophatters get assigned to a drill with both of the other squadrons on board the carrier, the Black Aces, and the Vigilantes. Meaning both Nat and Jake are in the air with you.

After is the first time Jake looks at you with something other than cocky contempt. As if seeing you fly up close resolved some of his concerns, but there’s still something there. He was waiting for the other shoe, too bad no one told him that you’d had both feet firmly on the ground since you signed your life to the Unites States Naval Services.

You get paired with him about a month and a half later for a cover assignment for an emergency evac of a SEAL team.

Normally assignments were set within squads, but it was an emergency evac and the carrier was docked. You and Jake had been the closest to the carrier at the time who were qualified, and so you were the two who were sent off. You flew south into South America, and while a lot of the details were later labeled as redacted, Jake never questioned your ability after. Nor should he. You saved his life.

He did however decide that meant you were friends, much to the immense annoyance of one Natasha Trace.

Considering the entire mission had been classified and redacted, you weren’t able to explain a lot of it to her, but when Jake started choosing his words a little more carefully she did her best not to start anything either. When he started sitting with you in the mess, she eyed him carefully. And when he started following you around in any downtime that lined up, she kept her mouth shut.

She found a new case study in the two of you, the outward and obvious differences between Hangman with Athena, and Hangman without. Her eyes jumping from how easily you let your guard down with him, and how utterly soft Hangman could be when he thought no one was paying attention.

Natasha, to her credit, had tried, desperately tried, to get more information out of you regarding your budding friendship, but all you would ever offer was a simple, “people tend to be more complex than what meets the eye, ‘Nix, I’m proof of that. So is he, and so are you.”

She decided then and there, you had way too much tact and patience, and maybe, just maybe, that was what Hangman needed.

...

everything: @butterfly-skinnylegend

athena’s tags: @omgbrianab @smoothdogsgirl @bazellawriz @sbrewer21 @inky-sun @djs8891 @rory-cakes @geeksareunique @je6291 @whoismurphyslaw @kee-0-kee @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @thespillingvoid @youdontknowe @burningcoffeecupp @mrsevans90

...

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Sky Full of Stars - Chapter Nine.

Huge thanks to those of you still reading this! It's so strange when I come to post, as in the writing we are well into part three of the story and currently six years ahead of this time, and so much is different to how it was back here! I can't wait to share that with you all :)

Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight

Tag list - In the comments

Words - 4,136

Warnings - 18+ content throughout. Minors DNI!

Waking up in her bed, for a second his brain tricked him into thinking she’d still be there, Adrien reaching to find nothing but an empty space. He sighed a little, looking at the time on his phone. Eight ten in the morning. It’d be one twenty-five in the afternoon in England, where she’d flown to three days before to begin filming, his own five-week stint in France to film Midnight in Paris beginning the following week.  

His flight was two days from then, but he had a few commitments in the city planned prior to leaving, so had stayed at hers since his place was such a haul to get to and from. Five hours drive, or an hour and a half flight and then fifty minutes by car from Syracuse airport. It made sense to stay put.  

One particular commitment he was looking forward to took place later that day, meeting someone he hadn’t seen since before Christmas, someone who when she glanced up from the table as he approached, looked a thousand times healthier than she had before.  

“Homeslice!” Jen spoke warmly, standing to give him a huge hug after he’d placed his tea down. 

“Hey you. God, you look amazing! It’s so good to see you,” he replied, kissing her cheek. And hell, she truly did. She had colour in her face, her eyes were bright, and her smile lit up the entire room. It was about a million miles away from the pale, heroin sick mess he remembered seeing in the hospital back in Pittsburgh. Also, she’d gained a few pounds in weight, and it suited her. She was still slight in frame, but definitely less scary thin than she had been. 

She was dressed so differently too compared to on tour Jen, wearing a pair of grey skinny jeans and an ecru coloured sweater that sloped off one shoulder, the only thing remotely rock and roll about her look being the reveal of her half sleeve of tattoos, as well as a smudge of smoky eyeliner. 

“Thanks, man. Got that fresh outta rehab glow!” Indeed, fresh out she was, leaving the facility the week before, staying a little longer than she’d originally intended in order to feel completely certain that she was strong enough in her tentative recovery to do so.  

She’d been in regular contact with Jade, also talking to him a lot over the phone as well, the pair striking up a friendship, much to his girlfriend’s joy. It was important her favourite people got along well. Truly, what had happened had bonded them on a very special level, Jen knowing she could never, ever repay such.  

Sitting down, her face crumpled a little, waving her hand dismissively as she began to sniff. “Ignore me. I’m okay, I’m alright. I’m just so grateful to you. You saved my life, man. That’s like, the biggest deal there is.” 

“Hey, come on,” he spoke, grasping her hand, his face softening. “I did what anybody would have done, finding you like that.” Gracious as always. Jen squeezed his hand tightly before letting go, picking up her coffee as he continued. “So, how are you finding being out in the world again?” 

“Difficult,” she confessed, widening her eyes a fraction. “I’ve learned so many coping tools now though, how to get through situations that would previously have made me use. Still, doesn’t stop me from missing it.”  

“I meant to ask you over the phone, but I take it that it’s nixed you being able to take opioids for your back now, right?” 

She nodded. “Yeah, I can’t even risk using anything derivative. It’s a slippery slope, man.” 

He could well imagine. “Do you mind if I ask you why you turned to heroin? Tell me to butt out if you want. I tried to ask Jade if she had any ideas, but yeah. She shut it down immediately.” 

She laughed softly, shaking her head. “She handled it about as well as I expected her to. Is she still blaming herself for not noticing?” 

“Oh yeah,” he revealed, eyebrows fluttering upwards as he scratched his chin. Trying to tell her otherwise had fallen on deaf ears, as they both knew it would. For him at least, it was becoming a concern. Her coping mechanisms for distress were not healthy, and it worried him, how much she internalised what caused her pain. 

“She needs not to. I was a sneaky son of a bitch with it, man. As for why, yeah, you can ask. You’re the one who found me OD’ing, I fucking owe you that much, Adrien.” Sipping her coffee, she took a breath, ready to tell all to who truly was the first person outside of her immediate family and therapy circle. He made it easy, though. Jade was right; he was a fantastic listener, as she’d discovered through tentatively getting to know him on tour and over the phone while in rehab.  

“Taking the pain pills, it wasn’t all about my gnarled up back, dude. It’s like, I have all of this crazy energy constantly whirling, I always have. It’s why my dad - may he rest - was the first person who put a set of drumsticks in my hand when I was six. I was always tapping, tapping, tapping, y’know? Except dad happened to notice it with a natural rhythm.” 

Adrien nodded, listening without interruption as she took it back much further than he was expecting.  

“He thought it’d occupy me, learning to drum, burn out a little of my zany energy, and it did to a degree. But nothing ever stopped the noise in my head, which I’ve since learned has been me suffering from high functioning anxiety for pretty much most of my life, man. The therapist I saw in rehab really helped me identify it all, dug to the root cause. Smack eventually became my outlet for shutting my brain off so I could fucking sleep.  

“I didn’t make it easy on myself, snorting blow as much as I was to shake the sluggish feeling I had. At first, I was just shooting up a few times a month, when being drunk or naturally exhausted didn’t work. It was the classic thinking of not seeing I had a problem, because it was only once in a while, y’know? Addicts, they ain’t always like those dudes from that movie Trainspotting. It can look different. This chick I met at the centre, she was a fucking CEO of a massive company, shooting up at the weekends to just feel all floaty and nice for the afternoon before returning to her life.  

“She was like me, though. Not a longstanding user, but got more regular, and then she fucked up and took too much. I won’t be fucking up again, because I fucking love my life and having been so close to leaving it, it frightened the shit outta me, man. Again, I am so fucking sorry for putting you through that. I know I’ve told you a million times, but I gotta make my peace with it, that it was a guy who I barely knew as you were back then, my best friend’s boyfriend, no less, who found me.”  

God, she was such a force. Her revelations made him see her in a completely different light to how he once had. She still had that energy about her, but it was tempered now, probably down to her finally receiving the correct treatment for her anxiety, he guessed. “I think you’re really something, just seeing you had a problem and dealing with it so head on. No hiding, no denial, just like, ‘yep, this is what’s wrong, and this is what I gotta do to fix it.’ That’s a really admirable trait.”   

A shy smile danced across her mouth, Jen running her hand through her long, wavy hair. “If my shit needs fixing, then I’m not gonna run and hide from it. Can’t do that and not expect the inevitable implode.”  

He looked a little uncomfortable for a second, in indecision whether to voice what was on his mind. Luckily for him, Jen read him like a book. “She does it, we both know that she does, and yeah. You ain’t the only one who wishes she didn’t.” Taking a deep breath, she puffed her cheeks out, smiling thinly. “To be fair to her, it’s a behaviour she’s fallen into without much checking from those closest to her. We all did, man. Us girls, I think from a very young age, we didn’t hold one another accountable for our shit, y’know?” 

“No, I don’t,” he smiled, a little baffled. “Explain?” 

“So, you know how young we all were when we first started out. We were seventeen when we cut our first album, except for Jess at sixteen. We were kids, still. Children! And we got thrown into the machine, these five babies who were catapulted to huge fame so damned early. Too early, man.  

“With every person who praised us though, there were another five wanting to cut us down, from critics even to contemporaries in some cases. It bonded us so tightly, protecting one another from it. I think we took care of each other so damned much, that we never saw our flaws, or we let each other get away with it more than we should have. I'm not saying it’s anybody else’s fault other than our own, like me and my addiction, Katie being very aggressive when she sets her mind to it, or Jade being a control freak who internalises her pain, but yeah. It’s what we did.”  

He remembered back to how he’d felt at seventeen, and then tried to apply how he would have coped if his fame had begun right there and then, going from a nobody to someone effectively shot out of a canon into such huge prominence. It made him shudder. No wonder they’d bonded so closely. “That actually makes a lot of sense, that you’d protect each other to that kind of degree. I worry about her still continuing to do it though, at almost thirty-two. I know I haven’t been on the scene long, but your friend? She means the world to me.” 

A happy grin illuminated her mouth, reaching to cup his face momentarily with both hands. “You’re such a good fucking guy, Adrien. I’m glad she’s found you, because some of her exes...” she trailed off, letting out a long breath through gritted teeth. “Ivan was definitely the worst, because of what happened, but yeah. There were some straight up douchebags for a time. Of course, she blamed herself for all of it going wrong, because that’s her.” Pausing she fiddled with the handle of her coffee mug. “There’re things I could tell you, but you should probably hear it from her, y’know? Except...”  

“Except she isn’t likely to tell me until she stops panicking that she’s gonna mess up what she has with me, too?” he offered, watching her nod deeply.  

She pointed a well-manicured finger at him. “Bingo, dude. I mean, she does seem like she’s settling to the idea. Probably because she can see that you’re not a douchebag like the rest were. You don’t have any red flags she’s actively ignoring. In fact, the only thing she’s mentioned so far that’s negative is that you sometimes give her tummy ache with that big ole’ cervix banger you have between your legs!” 

It was an unfortunate moment for him to finish his tea, snorting with laughter into the cup and almost choking. “Oh, god,” he groaned, wiping a hand down his face as he felt his cheeks warm a little. “You girls, shit. You all probably know much more about my junk than I’m comfortable with.”  

She barked a laugh, thinking how adorable he was, how easily embarrassed he got. “Yeah, but it’s all good, man. All good!” Pausing, her smile crinkled her eyes, cocking her head. “She thinks you hang the moon and stars, my gal. She’s really in it with you.”  

He nodded. “I do know, yeah. It's nice to hear it confirmed from one of the people closest to her, though. I haven’t ever met anybody like her. She’s so ridiculously lovely, so down to earth as well. One thing I really like about her is just how normal she is. There’s nothing pretentious about the woman. Just before Christmas, she mentioned that she was going out for lunch with her friend Tony while I was heading to an interview. I opened her apartment door and there’s Anthony fucking Bourdain standing there! Or the time I came downstairs shortly before she went away and she’d just chilling on the couch, drinking tea with Iggy Pop like it’s the most normal thing in the world.” 

She shrugged lightly, playing with the little empty packet of sugar next to her coffee mug. “It is for her. She doesn’t see people’s fame; she just sees them.”  

Of course, she did. It was what had drawn him to her so much when they first met. “That’s if she even knows who they are. I’m still not over the whole Dalai Lama thing. God, I nearly ruptured something when she told me about it!” 

Throwing her head back, her laughed filled the space. “Ahh, shit, yeah, yeah. That was the best one I think she’s ever done! There I was, man, on the side of a dirt road in Kathmandu, crying with laughter at her.” 

Their coffee date wrapped up shortly after, the pair moving to their next destination. They were heading to watch The Conversation, the film that Jade had taken a pause in touring from to film, and which had premiered in the US two days before, the lady herself attending the London premiere the previous evening. It was her first major role, playing Lydia Todd, a prolific serial killer confined to a psychiatric unit, starring across from Edward Norton, the FBI profiler tasked with conducting a series of interviews with her.  

Adrien had been looking forward to it just as much as Jen, both taking a seat at the back, chatting quietly while they waited for the lights to dim. For the following ninety-seven minutes, they were glued to the screen, the performance of the woman they both adored absolutely flooring them. The way she played creepy, calculated, yet a little vulnerable wrapped up in a bow of somebody who was horrifically psychologically damaged was flawless.  

“What we’re watching,” he leaned to whisper in Jen’s ear, “is the movie that’ll put our girl on the map.”  

He wasn’t wrong. The critical acclaim Jade received in the weeks that followed had the industry buzzing, her name and status in the acting world elevated hugely. There she was, riding a huge wave of success, and he couldn’t be there to celebrate that with her by her side until March. He counted the weeks, then the days of Skype calls, phone conversations and hundreds of text messages keeping them both going, until before they knew it, she was jumping into his arms again. 

“Oh, my life, I missed you even more this time around than the last!” she exclaimed, her bum being squeezed in his big hands as he carried her through her apartment, sharing kisses, thrilled to be wrapped around him again. “And I want to show you just how much, but I need a shower. I smell of armpits and plane.” 

“Alright, I guess I’ll reluctantly put you down.”  

It wasn’t for long, though. After washing and working shampoo from her hair, she was rinsing the conditioner out when she heard the bathroom door open. “Couldn’t wait, hmm?” 

The shower door opened, his body pressing to hers, arms encircling her as his mouth buried against her neck. “Not even for another second.”  

That hunger was matched, her arm winding back, hand sinking into the soft of his dark hair, hair she couldn’t believe had grown so much in two months. A sigh poured from her sensuous lips like wine as his hands gently squeezed her tits, nipples pinched to pebbles, his cock hardening against the small of her back.  

Her skin skittered with the hum of reconnection as his hands lowered in an alluring glide over her wet skin, anticipation starting to melt down her spine. He didn’t leave her waiting on it for long, one hand descending to push into the heat of her folds, the other gently clutching beneath her jaw as he turned her head, leaning to plant a kiss of fire and honey upon her lips.  

Tingly heat prickled as his fingers glided through her folds, the sweet dew of her pussy slicking against his touch, a shuddered breath fluttering from his mouth to hers as she quickly began to gush against his fingers. Their want spiralled like a tornado, kisses becoming more urgent, her body wracked with shivers as he rubbed tight circles over her clit, her walls stinging with the need to feel him inside her. 

Turning, she wound her arms around his neck, Adrien lifting her, shunting her body against the tiles and without ceremony or warning, dropping her straight down onto his cock. He kissed the gasp the fell from her mouth, teeth nipping her lower lip, grunting low as her legs tightened around him. His fingers dug a hard clench beneath her thighs, driving up into her with force as the water cascaded down his back, lips sliding from hers to once again tease hot kisses against the column of her throat.  

Panting against his mouth, she stared him in the eyes, nails dragging through his hair, fingers clenching to tug gently. “God, you turn me on so much. You’re so fucking gorgeous.”  

Truly, he’d never felt as heavily coveted by a woman as he did the one who had completely captured his heart. She near constantly made him feel good about himself, not that he particularly suffered with confidence issues. It was always nice to hear how much he stirred her desire, though.  

Rutting into her core hard, he groaned deep as his mouth found hers again, lost in the eye of her storm even though truly, he was the one driving it, all the love, longing and need for her mingling and sending him mindless. The blaze of him caught at her edges, sent sparks skittering within her blood, his hips driving like a piston against her.  

It was too wild to last beyond pure, basic urgency, a heated fuck of primal need within the water and steam, sending them both soaring rapidly to their bliss. It ripped through her like a current, her nails clawing down his back, that feral edge toppling him as he spilled deep into her, teeth clamping upon the side of her neck. It glimmered through them gently in the wake of such intensity, tiny pin pricks suffusing, both panting hard as he set her back down to her feet, entwining as they kissed.  

Once out, dry and dressed, they headed out for dinner, both catching up with one another properly. 

“Seriously, do you have any idea how proud of you I am?” he began after they’d eaten, Jade moved to his side of the booth they’d been seated in, his arm draped around her shoulders. “Watching you as Lydia wasn’t like I was seeing you there. Jade was gone, it was all her, this complete other person.”  

To receive such praise from her extremely accomplished boyfriend, a man whose talent was so renowned, it honestly bowled her over completely. “I was so nervous about it. I worried constantly that I’d overplayed her in some moments and fallen victim to underplaying in others. She was so complex, and I wanted to do the nuance of the character justice, so hearing you say that really does set me at ease.” 

Kissing her head, he smiled widely. There was no bullshit with her, not false modesty. She honestly had fretted – and still was – over the performance that had earned her such critical acclaim. “You were amazing. I said to Jen that it was the movie that’d put you on the map, and I was right.”  

Turning to him, she rested her forehead to his, nuzzling him softly. “I love you so much.” 

“And I love you about a thousand times more, Moo.” 

Crinkling her nose, she shook her head. “Not possible.” 

“Yes, possible.” He kissed her softly, pointing at her. “Don’t argue with me.”  

Laughing, she reached for her drink, leaning into him as she finished it, the simple happiness of that moment something she knew would be remembered for a long time. They headed back to her apartment after that, walking the twenty minutes hand in hand, enjoying the weather beginning to finally warm as winter made way for the imminent arrival of spring.  

Once in her building, she checked her mailbox, Adrien telling her he’d forgotten to collect it for the last couple of days. As expected, it was full. 

“Look at this!” she exclaimed, yanking the bundle out. “She’s nine months pregnant with post!” Her words made him laugh, finding himself playfully whacked upon the shoulder with the clutch of letters as they walked into the elevator.  

Placing the letters down on the counter in the kitchen, she pulled a bottle of wine from the rack, Adrien disturbed from kissing the side of her neck by his phone ringing.  

“It’s my dad, I’ll be in the lounge.” 

She smiled, pouring a glass and placing it into his hand. “Okay, sexy mans. Tell him I said hi.” 

He winked before turning, Jade pouring herself a glass before sorting through the pile. Invites to gala’s, functions, other celeb-type events all in the form of fancy cards sent in decadent looking envelopes, and amongst them, a handwritten one. The postmark stated Omaha, Jade frowning as she slid her thumb under the sealed join, trying to figure out who she knew in the Nebraskan city, the realisation suddenly hitting her when she took in the handwriting.  

It was the neat scribe that had written three years' worth of lovely birthday and Christmas cards to her, from a woman whom she had been very fond of, once upon a time. What reason did Polina Kuznetsova have to contact her now, though? 

“Dear Jade, 

I am contacting you on behalf of my son, for of course he cannot. I truly do hope this letter finds you well. Ivan is doing great in prison; his father and I are very proud of his progress after being so very ashamed in the aftermath of the way he treated you. Please, do not think my words in this letter will ever condone what he did, for I do not, but you must understand a few things. The steroid use, it changed who he was. It did. You know that as well as I do. He was night and day in difference, the man he was when using and when he was not. He feels much remorse for how he treated you, and he wants for you to reach out and contact him. His details are included below.  

You two made a wonderful couple, and he wishes to build something again with you in view to eventually reconnect and repair the damage he did upon his release. I think that you should consider this, I honestly do. He still loves you, and to be brutally honest, you both had blame in the relationship. You put your career before him time and again, and I cannot blame him for being hurt over that...” 

She didn’t need to read the rest, the words from a woman who might have said she didn’t condone her son’s actions, but didn’t give a damn enough to even for one second consider what her letter would do to a woman who truly - not that she’d admit it - wasn’t over what had happened to her. Her words about the blame, too. It hit her like a knife to her chest... 

“You never make time for me, Jade! Always this tour, or that movie! You on the move constantly, that’s why it happened! It was your fault that we...” 

The panic of it, his voice in her head, everything she’d so tightly pushed down began to rise. It was too much. Her limbs felt light and tingly, the breath stolen from her lungs, turning to grab her bag. It was without stalling or thought that she ran from her home, back out into the New York night, needing to be alone as her emotions crashed within like a bomb.  

It was beyond her completely that who she should have run to was the one she’d left behind in her apartment.