natalia ₊ ♡ ˚⊹ she/her | capricorn | twenty | cabin twelve | ravenclaw | evan rosier's no.1 fan | in love with finney blake | carlo geppetto's wifey | obsessing over generation kill | reading about greek mythology | currently listening to gwen stefani
୨୧ nate fick x fem!reader ୨୧
There was probably a hundred better things that Ray Person could be doing while in the middle of Iraq, but nothing beat trying to figure out the mystery of Nate's love life.
a/n: (1.2k words, requested) Reader is a Marine. Not a huge fan of the ending, but hope you enjoy nonetheless🩷
!!This is based on the fictional characters from the tv show Generation Kill. Not meant to be for/about the actual veterans and people!!
Ray Person is convinced his Lieutenant is hiding something.
The accusation isn’t unfounded nor is it wielded lightly, especially to a superior and to a man Ray respected and even on occasion admired. But he was sure Nate Fick was keeping secrets.
The secret in question wasn’t to do with their mission’s objective, or the incompetence of their platoon’s leadership. No, what Ray Person was trying his hardest to uncover, was whether his Lieutenant actually had a girlfriend.
It was ridiculous, sure, akin to a teenage girl’s slumber party gossip. But during this multi-faced, complex and sometimes tedious deployment, Ray clung to whatever kept him entertained. And this single question definitely kept him well entertained.
The longer he was fixated on trying to crack the unconventional puzzle that was his Lieutenant’s love life, the more he wondered if maybe Hasser was right; his mind has completely deteriorated during their time in Iraq.
The moment that sparked it all, was when Ray had left the cramped tent within Camp Mathilda for something as simple as a playboy magazine.
As he’d walked through the camo-coloured tent maze, he felt the dangerous burn of catching sight of something secret. His combat-trained and hardened Lieutenant sat on one of the many un-moved crates with an unfiltered smile on his face.
The sight alone caused Ray to falter his fast paced steps, catching him completely off guard. Sure, Ray had seen Nate smile before, after a solid mission had gone well, or when one of his men surpassed his expectations during training for instance.
But never something as unfiltered and boyish.
Nate was smiling down at a dirt-smudged piece of paper, holding its adjoining yellow envelope with his other hand. Ray squinted his eyes, trying to read the backwards pen-written words but the sand that clung to the paper made it too obscured.
For a split second he battled the idea of speaking up, but the opportunity erased itself as Gunny called out to Nate. The shaved blonde head belonging to his Lieutenant darted up towards the voice, his usual composed professionalism upon his face as if the smile hadn’t ever been there to begin with.
Ray watched as Nate swiftly folded the paper and tucked it away before catching up to Gunny who’d already begun walking ahead.
Upon questioning Brad about the interaction, he’d been downvoted and dismissed. The more Ray brought it up, the more Brad brushed the entire situation off. For the rest of those who overheard the discussion within the tent, it was nothing more than another one of Ray’s long winded, humor filled rants.
But for Ray, it sparked the beginning of an investigation that even Nancy Drew would’ve been envious of. From that moment on, whenever Ray was in the vicinity of Nate, his ears pricked up and his eyes watched, waiting.
Nate however never mentioned anything deemed too personal, especially nothing to do with his dating life. But Ray is hellbent on proving his doe eyed Lieutenant is whipped for someone back home.
A single notion kept Ray’s pursuit of knowledge in the forefront of his mind, despite the greatness of their Lieutenant he was still just a man. And like all men, he had tells. Ray had begun to learn them and had begun to spot them; just like any good (and incredibly sleep deprived) Recon Marine would.
Over time it grew painfully obvious to the point of Ray growing exasperated that no one else in the platoon believed him, or even saw it for themselves.
The lingering looks towards the mixing coloured sky of each and every sun set and rise. The oddly simple tattoo on Nate’s wrist that after particularly difficult missions he’d run his hand over repeatedly. The easy refusal of the picture of the reporter’s girlfriend. A whisper to himself after one of the other Marines mentioned returning home. The sympathetic understanding he dished out towards the elderly Iraqi couples walking through their blockades. And of course, the letter that he pulled out when he thought no one was looking.
Days blurred together where it felt like each telling sign that gave Nate away were happening all at once. The more it continued the more Ray grew further exasperated in his team for not seeing it.
Until it came to a crashing halt with irrefutable proof within the old Iraqi cigarette factory. Ray had been following the reporter, mindlessly after finishing up the latest task Brad had given him.
As simply as it began, it ended with Ray stumbling to a stop, mouth parted with wide eyes in surprise. His Lieutenant stood with his head dipped low whispering to a pretty, albeit tired, looking Marine.
The same boyish smile adorned his face, this time Nate’s eyes darted across the woman’s face.
You, the camo-wearing woman, looked up at Nate with a similar lovesick expression (to Ray’s complete surprise). You held Nate’s hand with both of your own, the calloused pad of your thumb brushing against the tattoo identical to your own.
Whispering back and fourth, the rest of the world slipped away. Despite being completely dead on your feet from lack of proper sleep, you wouldn’t rather be anywhere other than right there in front of Nate. Unfortunately, such a peaceful luxury couldn’t be given for long in your line of work.
A loud and surprisingly high pitched yell drew the attention of you, Nate and the fellow Marines surrounding you both within the factory's main floor.
“- fucking knew it! I told you. Where’s Brad? I fucking told you!” Ray’s voice bounced off the thin metal walls of the factory. “I’ve been trying to tell you! Look at him, man, he’s acting like a fuckin’ hallmark protagonist!”
As Ray’s eyes darted around the large room, bouncing between the very obvious and no longer secretive couple and anyone he knew that happened to be walking past at the time. Ray's jumbled victory was short lived.
There stood the reporter, dear old Rolling Stone, with a pleased smile and an unsurprised expression. Ray’s eyes narrowed towards him, like a shark scenting blood. When he reached the war scribe, his hand gripped his shoulder in a tight hold.
“What the fuck?” Ray muttered, shaking him slightly. “Be surprised, Scribe”
A gentle laugh bubbled out of the reporter, as he clicked the pen he was holding a couple times. “I, uh, already knew. So…”
Ray’s head darted back as if he’d been slapped. “You knew? How the fuck’d you know?”
Evan Wright shrugged, biting back another laugh as he lazily pointed towards Nate. “I just asked”
Ray’s eye twitched as an unusual but familiar laugh echoed behind him. Brad’s head was tilted back, still trying to shake his head as his shoulder bounced from his laughter. Brad's swift and strong hand patted him on the back, nearly causing him to lose his balance, if he hadn't been prepared for it.
As Brad collected himself, he left muttering about the consequences of ripped fuel on Ray’s hick brain. Standing there, mouth agape and brows furrowed. Ray’s brain broke further as you approached, with Nate following by your side.
With an amused smile you nod at him as you walk through the large entrance alongside Nate. “Nice meeting you, Person” You called out, as Nate shook his head, that same stupid grin on his face looking at you like you'd hung the stars despite the dirt and ash covering both of your faces.
୨୧ barty crouch jr x reader ୨୧
Barty is stubborn at the best of times, let alone when he's sick. Luckily for him, he has you to both look after him and put up with his antics.
a/n: (1.8k words, requested) Reader is implied to be a different house than Barty but no explicitly stated. Sorry this took so long to write but I hope you enjoy it!
The soft tapping of the metal spoon against the inside of the navy blue mug echoed through the quiet kitchens as you stirred the lemon-honey tea you were making for Barty.
A chilly breeze wafted through the dim room causing you to shiver ever so often. The soft muttering and pattering of feet from the house elves as they prepared for dinner was interrupted by the hungry grumble of your stomach at the smell of various spices floating in the air.
Carefully, you shuffled out of the kitchen in your mix-matched school socks, holding onto the small porcelain handle.
Hours earlier when you’d been on your way to your Transfiguration class, Barty had a note delivered by Evan Rosier. While the unamused messenger had handed the note over that read that Barty was regretfully postponing their study date they’d planned the day prior, Evan had mainly complained of how ‘absolutely insufferable Barty was being’ all because of a ‘silly muggle cold’.
Fortunately for Barty, you knew Evan had a habit of both downplaying and over exaggerating everything at once. You quickly and rather rashly bribed your fellow housemates to take notes in Transfiguration for you as you rushed over to the Slytherin common room.
It was there, you found Barty slumped back against the green velvet couch, his face was pale and covered in a thin-layer of sweat. His hair was stuck to his forehead and his eyes were red and puffy. Each time his head would uncontrollably crack to one side, his face would scrunch in a wave of nausea.
You ushered him up off the couch and up to his room, ignoring all his protests, feeble arguments and the crude comments from Antonin Dolohov who sat across the fireplace, with a lingering stare and a permanent smirk.
After practically pushing Barty into his dorm room, you swiftly rid him of his blazer and uncomfortable uniform, grabbing something far more cozy for him to wear. Despite the flush of red coated his cheeks down to his neck as you dotted on him, settling him into his bed he continued to swat your hands away assuring you he was fine.
You’d laid beside him in his green and silver coloured bed until his eyes finally drooped into a sick-infested sleep. Occasionally his arm would twitch against yours.
Despite being asleep, Barty never truly seemed to rest, still softly twitching and fidgeting. There was once a time when you’d first gotten together when Barty had been insecure about it, among other things, but you’d merely grown used to it. After all, despite what he thought, he was easily loveable and you didn’t mind having to adjust to fit him into your life.
Originally you’d intended to creep out of his room once he’d fallen asleep to grab a potion for him from the hospital wing, but as you’d silently moved to get out of bed, Barty had groggily whined, more loudly than he’d ever admit to. His brows instantly furrowed as his arm outstretched, searching for you in the bed.
“Don’t leave yet. Please” He slurred, voice thick with sleep.
With a pout, you’d shuffled back into bed, easing him back to sleep. Thankfully, weeks ago you’d left a stack of your books beside his bed, seeing as he always left his things scattered around your less organized room. Reaching out, you grabbed the top book by its cover and began reading where you’d last left off.
Three quarters through the book, Regulus Black entered the shared dorm, books in hand. He paused upon seeing you muttering under his breath something about the ‘rules of the dorm’ but you merely focused back on your book.
Leaning back against the plush pillows, you silently turned the beige coloured page, getting re-absorbed into the words. It wasn’t until Barty’s breath rattled in his sleep did your sympathy shift to concern.
Instantly, your book was forgotten by your lap as you turned your attention towards Barty’s sleeping form. Every odd breath sounded almost painful for him to let out, listening to it made your face scrunch with worry.
Across the room a deep sigh left Regulus. His intense eyes were locked on you and Barty before curtly getting up from where he’d previously been sitting at his well-stocked desk.
He tugged on the jacket he’d thrown lazily on the edge of his bed, moving towards the dorm’s door as he muttered how ‘ridiculous you were being’ and how ‘you were acting like he was dying’. Upon asking where he was going in a hushed tone, he’d turned and said ‘to get him a bloody potion’.
Your shoulders eased and you looked at the shut door with a gratitude you knew Regulus would never accept.
The potion Regulus brought back had eased whatever sickness Barty was hiding behind his stubborn attitude upon waking up, whenever he spoke his throat sounded raw and pained however according to Regulus that ‘wasn’t necessarily a bad thing’.
You disagreed and mentioned a muggle remedy to soothing sore throats, all you needed was to get to the kitchens. Immediately, Barty protested. Wrapping his arms tightly around you, keeping you locked by his side in a warm, blanketed prison.
You tried to rationalize with him, mentioning how it was for his own good, but Barty didn’t budge. He stared at you with big-wide brown eyes as he croakily whispered ‘But I can’t get enough of you, no matter how much time we spend together.’
And trying, and failing to get Regulus onto your side, you retaliate by gently kissing his flushed face until he relaxes against you before swiftly darting out of bed. He sunk deeper into the pillows in defeat, watching you walk across the room with saddened eyes.
You grabbed one of his sweaters hanging off his desk chair. ‘No amount of flattery will get to me, Crouch’ you jokingly taunted as you opened the dorm door, peering over your shoulder at him, still pouting against the pillow.
‘You’re utterly cruel.’ He whined, and you shook your head, turning around to hide the smile on your face as you shut the door behind you.
Now, as you carefully carry the steaming tea down towards his common room. Alexander Wilkes entered the common room at the same time, pausing his steps down as he saw you. With furrowed blonde brows, he glanced at the tea in your hands.
“For Barty” You answered before he could ask, making him shake his head with a disbelieving smile.
“How is it possible that an angel like you, is with Barty of all men?” Alexander asked, normally you would’ve slapped someone for such a backhanded question, but you knew Alexander had no real heat behind it and was purely in jest of his friend.
You rolled your eyes at him as you both continued your shared walk to the boys’ dorms.
Alexander politely opened the door for you. Looking around the room, Regulus was still sitting in the same position he’d been in when you’d left, hunched over his desk writing away.
But clearly Barty had moved, you could make out the large blanketed mass that was once Barty. Only the odd strands of his hair sticking out of the blankets could be seen. “Barty? You awake?” You lightly whispered.
You wondered if all his whining had tired him out but then a congested groan immediately answered your question. You placed the mug down on his bedside table, moving the empty potion bottle and your stack of books out of the way.
He lazily emerged from his self-made cocoon. His hazel eyes squinted and bored straight into you. "I think I'm dying" His voice sounded off because of his blocked nose and you fought back a smile.
Sitting beside him on the edge of his bed, you press the back of your hand to his cheeks and forehead. "You're not dying. It’ll be the lingering effects of the fever. The blankets probably aren't helping."
He huffed, shifting the blankets closer to his chest, as if you were about to take them off him. Instead of prying the blankets from his clammy hands, you reached out to brush his messy bed hair from his eyes.
You caught the microscopic flinch he made, making your hand freeze in place. He blinks slowly for a moment, and you have a passing thought to shove the tea towards him in fear of making him uncomfortable.
His eyes softened, relaxing back against his pillows. You slowly lowered your hand, affectionately brushing your knuckles against his pale cheeks.
“I hate being sick” He grumbled after a fit of coughs that only made his twitching increase.
“Try drinking the tea. It’s nice and warm, okay?” You mumble with a soft smile. A tired and thankful look adorned his face.
Barty sniffled sickly as he sat up, reaching for the warm tea. He sniffled sickly. His face was pale and sweaty from the fever, his bed hair stuck up in every direction.
Despite all that, your eyes watched him with utter admiration. He sipped the tea, slowly to start with before taking large gulps.
“‘S good?” You asked, raising your eyebrow at the fast rate he finished the tea. His hand twitched under the abundance of blankets as he nodded at you enthusiastically with a giddy smile
You gently took the mug from his other hand, placing the mug back onto the bedside table for him. He leaned forward to whisper to you, making his breath brush against your arm.
“Thank you, for all of this” He sincerely said despite the foggy look in his eyes.
With an honest smile, you pressed a delicate kiss to his cheek. “You don’t need to thank me, Barty”
His face momentarily scrunched either in a tic or in silent disagreement you couldn’t tell, but Barty lightly shook his head looking at you with a mesmerized heat behind his eyes.
Standing from your seat beside him, you shrugged off his sweater, folding it and placing it on the dresser at the foot of his bed. You easily slotted down beside him in bed, snuggling close to him as he generously gave up half of his blankets to shield you from the biting chill in the air.
“Bloody hell, you’ve domesticated him” Evan loudly observed as he entered the dorm, looking at you both cuddled close together.
Barty’s head twitched to the side as he rolled his eyes. “Fuck off, you lonely prick” Barty retorted harshly depsite it sounding coarse.
From behind the text-book Alexander was reading, he snorted. “Aye, he’s got quite a lonely prick, old Rosier”
Evan’s attention was now solely on his new opponent, much to Barty’s pleasure as he held you a tad tighter.
Alexander and Evan’s bickering continued on, eventually gaining the attention of Regulus who in turn was pulled into the ridiculous argument, but that was long after both you and Barty had been sweetly pulled into sleep’s grasp, still within each other's warm embrace.
