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rynwrites4fun · 1 month ago

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Across The Hall (4) | Michael Robinavitch x Neighbor/Teacher ! Reader

Michael Robinavitch x F! Neigbor/Teacher ! Reader

Summary: You and Michael are catching up on home duties, tackling laundry and now grocery shopping. As you joke around in the aisles, having fun together, you’re suddenly interrupted by someone Michael knows. The encounter leaves Michael quickly defending himself, insisting that he doesn't have feelings for you, while you start to wonder if your playful behavior gave the wrong impression.

Word Count: 2880

Warnings: Age Gap (Mid 20s/ Early 50s)

Authors Note: Hello! This is prob gonna be my last post for now just because these last two weeks of May I am absolutely SLAMMED. Hanging on by a thread at my job, but I got 10 days left. I’m ready for summer. I’ll be back sometime beginning of June. Very sorry. Again thank you for all the love!!! This is gonna have to hold y’all over for a minute. - ryn

“Guess you had the same idea as I did,” you chuckle as you stand in the doorway of the laundry room.

Michael looks over his shoulder as he tosses his scrubs into the drum of the washing machine.

“Hey,” he smiles.

With your basket on your hip and holding it with one hand, you move towards the washing machine next to him.

“You’ve been neglecting home duties too?” you ask, popping open the washer and tossing in your clothes.

Michael lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Is it that obvious? I’ve been running on empty lately—just trying to keep up.”

He measures out the detergent, pours it in, shuts the lid, and turns the knobs with a practiced motion before starting his load.

“I have a mountain of stuff to do…I have to go grocery shopping,” you say, rubbing your forehead as if just remembering.

You toss in a couple of detergent pods and close the washer with a quiet thud and start the machine.

“So do I,” Michael replies, leaning his back against the washer. “My fridge is completely empty”

There’s a small pause. The hum of the machines fills the space. You glance sideways at him, then back at your basket.

“We could go together…after our laundry's done?”

” you offer, your voice gentle, almost careful.

You’d found excuses to spend time with Michael—more than just him stepping in to help. Taking you to dinner when Aiden flaked, fixing your jammed window, carrying that heavy shelf box up to your apartment and assembling it. As much as you appreciated all of it, something had shifted.

Your friendship with Michael was growing into something solid, something you looked forward to. You found yourself craving his company, wanting to be around him more than you ever expected.

It wasn’t because you needed something. It was because being with him felt easy, calm, and real.

You wanted more than just passing chats in the lobby or quick moments in the elevator. You wanted time together that didn’t need a reason.

So when you suggested grocery shopping, it wasn’t about the errands—it was about spending time with him. Just being.

He looks over at you, the smile returning—this time slower, warmer. “Yeah,” he says. “I’d like that.”

—

You and Michael walked into the city’s grocery store, reusable bags in hand. The automatic doors whooshed open, letting in the familiar scent of produce and deli meats. Michael grabbed a cart, glancing over at you with a small smile.

“Alright,” he said, rolling up his sleeves a little.

“What’s first on your list?”

You pulled out your phone, scanning the notes app. “Eggs. Bread. Fruit. Veggies. Stuff for dinner. Oh—sprinkle of junk food”

He laughed. “A sprinkle?”

“Okay maybe more than just a sprinkle”

“How about you?” you asked, glancing over at him as he steered the cart forward.

“Pretty much the same as you…Minus the actual planning. I just sort of walk around until something calls to me.” He shrugs

You gave him a look. “So you’re a wander-and-wing-it kind of shopper.”

“Exactly.”

“Alright then,” you said, nudging the cart playfully. “Let’s start with my list, and if something speaks to you along the way, you can toss it in.”

The two of you start in the produce section.

You gasped, eyes lighting up as you spotted them. “Look at the tulips!”

Without thinking, you stepped closer, admiring them. “I love when they’re still closed or just starting to bloom. Not fully open—just that halfway point…”

You glanced back at Michael, smiling softly. “They’re my favorite flowers.”

You continued walking, not noticing that Michael had lingered for just a second longer.

As he passed by the cart, he glanced at the flowers again, filing it away.

Tulips. Half-bloomed. Your favorite.

He made a mental note.The two of you wander through the aisles. You grab the things on your list, while Michael picks up whatever catches his eye, things he wants, not necessarily things he needs.

You talk mostly about food. What you like, What you don’t and a few things in between.

In aisle nine, you spot a bag of Nutella Biscuits, your absolute favorite. Your friend had gotten you hooked on them.

You reach for the last bag on the shelf and so does he.

Fingers brush.

Neither of you pulls away. Your hands linger, resting lightly over the glossy packaging.

The air shifts, quiet, still charged.

“Hey, I saw those first,” you say, raising a brow.

Michael smirks. “Pretty sure my hand got there first.”

“These are my favorites.”

“They’re my guilty pleasure.”

You narrow your eyes. “Oh don’t think I won’t fight you for these, old man—because I will.”

“Oh, you think you’re so funny,” he scoffs out a laugh.

You quickly yank the bag toward you. “Mine!”

“Come here!”

He steps forward, catching you around the waist, gently pulling you back against his chest. His arm wraps around you as he tries to grab the bag from your hands.

You shriek out a giggle. You twist and thrash against him, laughing, still clutching it. “Michael!”

“Hand it over!” he laughs

“Robby?” a voice calls suddenly from the end of the aisle.

You both freeze. Still tangled together.

Dana Evans, his colleague and charge nurse. His friend, the closest thing he had to a sister, stands there at the end of the aisle, eyebrows raised at the scene in front of her.

“Dana—” he says, startled. He quickly lets you go, the playful teasing evaporating as his hands fall to his sides.

“Hey,” she says, walking over with a grocery basket tucked in the crook of her arm.

You glance at Michael. There’s a flicker in his eyes, like surprise, maybe discomfort. His posture stiffens, the easy playfulness from a moment ago gone.

It almost feels like he doesn’t want her to see you together.

And that… stings more than you expect.

“Who’s this?” She asked to move closer to the two of you.

You step in quickly, offering a polite smile and introducing yourself “…I'm his neighbor. Just… a friend.”

You don’t mean to sound awkward, but the words come out carefully, almost rehearsed—like you’re making sure they land a certain way.

Was she someone he was seeing? And here you are, being too playful, too comfortable with him. You didn’t mean to cross any lines, to overstep any boundaries. That wasn’t your intent.

“Right..” She nods. “I’m Dana,” she smiles, but gives Michael a look.

You felt out of place—like maybe you had crossed a line after all. Like you were standing somewhere you didn’t belong.

You hold out the bag, whacking him in the stomach with it, not on purpose just out of being flustered. “I uh.. I don’t want these anymore. You can have them.”

Michael blinked, taking the bag from you, confusion flickering in his eyes as you started walking away.

“Where are you going?” he asked, noticing the shift in your tone, in your posture.

Without meeting his eyes, you kept straight, not looking back “I just remembered—I, uh, need to grab something from another aisle.”

It’s a lie, you both knew it was, you don’t wait for a response as you turn the corner, needing more distance than biscuits.

Michael he calls after you, he watches disappear, the forgotten bag of Nutella biscuits still in his hand.

Your voice, your expression, the way you wouldn’t meet his eyes—it all hit Michael harder than he expected. He hadn’t even gotten the chance to introduce you to Dana before you slipped away.

His attention goes back to Dana. She had only laughed. “Oops. Didn’t mean to scare her off…”

“She probably thinks we’re dating,” Michael muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. “With you eyeing her down like that.”

Dana shot him a look. She threw a hand up, still grinning “That’s your fault! You didn’t introduce me fast enough! I run to the grocery store for oat milk and walk into aisle nine to find my friend pressed up against a woman, playfully fighting over cookies!”

She begins to get noisy.

“So who is she?” She was waiting for him to give her more information about who you are and the moment between the two she witnessed.

Michael rolled his eyes and placed the Nutella biscuits into the grocery cart with a little more force than necessary. “Dana, don’t start—” knowing what she’s thinking.

“Oh, come on!” Dana said, nudging him with her elbow. “Robby, she’s cute! You’ve clearly been spending time with her. How long has that been going on?! How come you never mentioned her?” Dana asked, with a smile on her face

Michael let out a breath and maintained his composure, pushing the cart forward a few inches. “Because Dana, nothing is going on. She’s just my neighbor.”

“She looked a lot more than a “neighbor” when I entered the aisle.” Dana said with a knowing look, cocking her head in the direction you’d disappeared.

He rolled his eyes.

He started pushing his cart, turned down the next aisle, hoping the shelves of canned goods might somehow end the conversation. “Dana, please drop it.”

Dana wasn’t going to drop it. She fell in step beside him, her gaze sharp. “So you’re seeing her?”

He froze, picking up a can of beans off the shelf, his fingers brushing the label like it held the answer. “No, I’m not seeing her. She has a boyfriend”

Dana arched her brow. “That didn’t answer the question. You’re not seeing her—but are you wanting to?”

Michael didn’t respond right away. He turned the can in his hand, then returned it to the shelf, avoiding her eyes. “It doesn’t matter. Like I said, she’s got someone.”

“But you don’t,” Dana pointed out, a note of challenge in her voice. “And last I checked, play fighting over cookies and laughing like that isn’t how you act with someone you’re indifferent to.”

He gave her a look, sharp and tired all at once. “You’re reading too much into it.”

“I’m reading what was right in front of me. Body language doesn’t lie, Robby”

Michael exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair. “She’s easy to be around, okay? She’s funny, she’s sweet. I like her company, but we’re just friends. I'm not trying to mess with someone who’s already in a relationship. I just help her out with stuff, you know be a neighbors ”

Dana softened just slightly. “That’s not what it looks like on my end”

“Think what you want Dana, but she and I are friends. That’s all. Nothing more.”

He started pushing the cart down the aisle, leaving her standing behind. “I gotta finish shopping,” he muttered—and find you, he thought.

“We’ll continue this conversation later, Michael!” she called after him.

“No we won’t, Dana!” he yelled back in a sing-song tone as he turned into the next aisle.

—-

You were in the freezer section, staring at the wall of ice cream like you were deep in thought about flavors, though your mind was still spinning from the moment with Michael and awkward interaction with the woman Dana.

From the corner of your eye, you saw him approaching with the cart.

“So ice cream was that important, huh?” Michael said, pulling up beside you. “That’s what made you run off?”

You didn’t look at him right away. “I didn’t run off.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Uh, yeah, you kinda did. You didn’t even give me a chance to introduce you to Dana.”

“I didn’t want to be in the way…”

“You weren’t in the way”

Silence falls between the two of you.

“So you and Dana?” you ask, trying to sound casual, but the question comes out a little too pointed.

“I work with her,” Michael replies. “She’s the dayshift charge nurse—”

You nod, not really sure what to say, or what exactly you’re feeling. You weren’t trying to pry. Not really.

Then it hits you—a wave of guilt, sharp and sudden. You start replaying the moment in the aisle. The laughter, the teasing, the way you’d been so at ease with him. If Dana was someone he was seeing, the whole scene would have easily been misread. Maybe you were too comfortable. Too close. You hadn’t meant to cross a line, but now you’re afraid you had.

Before the guilt can fully settle in, Michael speaks again—his voice softer now, his eyes steady on you, like he already knows exactly where your thoughts have gone.

“Dana’s like a sister,” he says, and somehow, it’s like he’s reading your mind.

His tone is calm, even—but there’s a quiet urgency there, tucked just beneath the surface. Like he wants to be sure you hear him. Like it matters that you believe it.

You look at him “Oh… I thought you two were…”

“I know what you must’ve thought,” he interrupts gently, “but it’s not like that. Our coworkers joke that we're ‘work spouses,’ but she’s just my friend. We’ve known each other a long time. That’s all.”

He doesn’t really know why he feels the need to clarify all of that to you. He shouldn’t care what you think. But deep down, he does for some reason.

A beat passes.

“Are you… seeing anyone?” you ask, your voice softer this time. You don’t know what made you ask. Curiosity, maybe since the two of you were sorta on the topic.

“No,” he says after a moment, shaking his head. “I haven’t dated in a while.”

There’s a quiet honesty in the way he says it. Not embarrassed. Just real. His eyes flick up to meet yours, and for a second, neither of you says anything.

You wondered how he was still single.

Michael was kind. Steady. The kind of man who listened, who remembered little things, who made you feel like you mattered. He wasn’t flashy, but he didn’t need to be. Just being around him made you feel calm.

Any woman would be lucky to have him.

He seemed like the kind of person who wouldn’t make you question where you stood. Who would show up, say how he felt, and mean it.

You let the thought pass.

“So…should I get Mint Chocolate Chip or Cookie Dough?”

“Mint”

“Alright, Mint Chocolate chip it is” you open the door in the freezer section, and placing it into the cart.

——-

“Here, let me get those—” Michael reached for your reusable bags along with his at check out.

“Michael, stop,” you said, trying to swat his hands away. “I can carry my own groceries.”

“I know you can,” he said, easily slipping them from your grip. “But you shouldn’t have to.”

“They’re heavy, and—Michael, no—”

“Stop arguing with me and just let me carry the groceries,” he said, giving you a pointed look.

You huffed, but there was no real heat behind it. “Fine.”

He smiled, victorious. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

The two of you walked back to the apartment, climbing the stairs to the sixth floor, reusable bags in hand—well, in his hands. You stopped in the hallway, right between your doors.

“Thanks tagging along with me,” you said, turning toward him. “And for carrying my groceries… which, I’m more than capable of doing.” You take your bags from his hands.

“Thanks for letting me tag along, and I know you can carry your own groceries,” Michael said, his voice low and easy. “But that doesn’t mean you should have to.”

“Oh—before I forget,” Michael said, reaching into one of his reusable bags.

He pulled out a small bouquet of tulips, their soft petals just beginning to open, one of the bouquets you were admiring earlier.

You gasped. “Michael, what? When did you get these? I was with you the whole time!”

“I have my ways,” he said with a teasing grin.

You looked at him, touched. Your pout wasn’t sad—just soft, surprised, the kind that tugged at the heart.

“Thank you, they’re beautiful”

“Oh, here—take these,” he says with a grin, holding out the Nutella cookies like a peace offering, but his eyes are still challenging.

You shake your head. “You take them.”

He scoffs, clearly amused. “Well, you fought me for them.”

You raise an eyebrow, smirking. “Technically, I didn’t win.”

“Neither did I,” he says, shrugging like it's no big deal, but the tension in the air suggests otherwise.

A beat passes. Then, with a mischievous glint in your eye, you suggest, “How about we rock-paper-scissors for them?”

“Alright, you’re on,” he replies,

You both set your bags down with a soft thud, the hallway around you oddly quiet as you face each other.

The air feels a little charged as you both prepare. The competitive energy lingers in the air. Michael steps back, getting into position with an exaggerated stance.

“Alright ready?” He asks.

You nod in response.

"Rock-Paper-Scissors-Shoot!" you both say in unison, your hands moving in perfect sync.

You take a deep breath and throw your hand out confidently—rock.

His hand, paper, covers your rock.

“Haha! Sucker!” he cackled, snatching the bag from the ground and holding it over his head like a trophy.

You gasped, mock-offended. “You are the worst!”

“I am the champion,” he corrected, already walking in a victory strut toward his door. “Rock? Really? Rookie move.”

You shook your head, laughing as you scooped up your bags. “Enjoy them — I hope they go stale before you open them.”

He glanced back over his shoulder with a grin. “Joke’s on you. I’m opening them now.”

And with that, he tore open the bag, popped a biscuit into his mouth, and held another one out toward you — his smile softening just slightly.

“Want one?” he offered.

You hold out your hand, and he rattles the bag to get one out for you.

“Thanks,” you said, biting into the biscuit.

You held out your hand, and he gently rattled the bag until one slid free. He placed it in your palm like it was something more than a cookie.

“I’ll see you later, Michael.”

You unlocked it, picked up your bags, and stepped inside.

“I’ll see you around,” he called, turning toward his side of the hallway.

The door closed behind you, but the smile stayed — along with the taste of chocolate and something just a little sweeter.

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Across The Hall (1) (2) (3) (4) (5)

#acrossthehall #michael robby robinavitch #michael robinavitch #dr robinavitch #dr robby #the pitt #the pitt fanfiction #the pitt x reader #michael robinavich x reader #dr robby x reader #noah wyle

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sansaorgana · 1 year ago

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— THE GIFT

PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — You were born to be Feyd-Rautha's wife. You arrive to Giedi Prime to get adjusted to the new environment before your wedding. Your betrothed is trying to court you properly... but he only knows The Harkonnen ways of doing so.

REQUEST — (1)

AUTHOR’S NOTE — After a whole month of writing Thrown To The Wolves, I felt weird writing something with Feyd with a different Reader and a different plot. 🙈 But at the same time I was excited to explore a new scenario. 😄

WARNINGS — arranged marriage, blood, death

WORD COUNT — 3,700

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

THE GIFT

Giedi Prime was an unfriendly place – cold and colourless, nearly lifeless as well. The people you were seeing reminded you of machines more than humans. You were terrified as you realised you’d spent the rest of your life there. The Harkonnens were even worse. Rude, harsh, not very talkative. Your future husband had looked you up and down on your first day in a way that turned your blood cold.

You missed home. You missed your family. But you knew it was impossible to ever go back. You could run away – if you somehow managed to bribe the servants to help you – but it was impossible to hide from your destiny. You had been born to be Feyd-Rautha’s wife, and most importantly, to give birth to his child.

You were a daughter of an important Lord, therefore you weren’t opposed to the idea of an arranged marriage. You knew nothing else was waiting for you in this world and no one would ever let you marry a person of your choice. But why was Feyd-Rautha your betrothed? Out of all the people in the galaxy, why did you have to be promised to a Harkonnen?

Ever since you had been a little girl, your friends had been teasing you about it. Repeating the dreadful gossip about Giedi Prime and your betrothed who had become a famous and dangerous gladiator in the meantime. And now you were finding out that the gossip was not true – reality was even worse than anything you had heard and expected of this place and of this man.

You were supposed to spend three months on Giedi Prime before your wedding, away from your home and family, to adjust to the environment and the customs. Then the wedding would take its place and you’d become the na-baroness of The Harkonnens.

On your first morning you were woken up with breakfast brought to your bed by the servants.

“Why can’t I eat with my husband’s family in the dining room?” You asked them while sitting up and resting on your pillows.

The pale and bald women looked at each other significantly. Everyone looked the same here, you felt like a freak.

“Baron Harkonnen and his nephews do not eat their meals together, unless it is a special occasion, a banquet of some sort,” one of them explained. “Everyone eats their meals in their own private chambers.”

“I see,” you nodded and sighed at the sight of the food. It was as colourless as everything around. You missed the bowls of fruit and yoghurts you had been getting on your homeplanet.

After swallowing the last bit of your breakfast, you took a shower and let your new servants dress you up. The Harkonnens had requested for you to leave all your clothes and personal belongings at home. They wanted you to be as detached from your old self as possible. You were gifted a whole wardrobe of new outfits instead. All black.

You wondered if they’d ask you to shave your head, too. You dreaded that. Your hair was like an armour you could hide under. Your servants had no idea how to manage it so they left it loose. You brushed it with your fingers since there was no brush.

When you saw yourself in the mirror you thought that on your homeplanet you’d be called a feral woman. In a black, long dress, hair unkempt and dark bags under your exhausted and empty eyes that lacked any sort of emotion.

You were supposed to have classes about The Harkonnen culture. You had been studying it since you were a little girl but they did not trust your progress and they wanted to test you in a more practical sense. Your teacher was an old man with a contemptuous smirk, a close advisor of the Baron and most likely his spy.

He had been asking you questions for the past hour to which you answered perfectly well. It was becoming difficult for him to hide his surprised facial expression.

“You’ve been trained well, my Lady,” he admitted.

“This is all that has been expected of me,” you explained with a nod, your voice was hollow and emotionless as you realised how true your words had been. Your whole personality was limited to be the future Harkonnen Baroness ever since you had been a little girl. You couldn’t possibly tell what you would be like under different circumstances. You had never been given a chance to find out.

“Very well then,” he hummed to himself. “I’d like you to roam freely around the fortress and try not to get lost. Tomorrow during our class you will ask me questions about the things and places that made you curious,” he informed you and bowed down before leaving the room.

You looked around, expecting someone to fetch you but no one was coming. He had to actually mean that you were allowed to roam freely around the fortress. Carefully, you left the room and chose to turn right. You had arrived from the left side of the corridor so you were naturally more curious about the right side and exploring a brand new territory.

You were too scared to try to push any doors, though. You didn’t want to walk in on things that would possibly make someone beheading you for seeing. The occasional guards passing you by were looking at you suspiciously but they were not saying anything. After a while you stopped seeing them at all and realised you were in a dark maze of endless corridors that you had no idea how to get out of.

Trying to go back, you only ended up getting lost even further as you were going deeper and deeper into the maze. Your heart started to pound in your chest and your hands began to shake as they turned cold. The corridor was cold in general – much colder than the rest of the fortress. And it was terrifyingly empty.

You decided to stay in one place and wait. Someone had to eventually look for you, right? You hoped for it to be true. Trying to hug your own self for warmth and comfort, you rested your back on the cold, grey wall, taking deep breaths in.

Suddenly, a loud and animalistic cry emerged from behind one of the black doors. You were startled by it and your body began to tremble even more. You wanted to get away as far as possible from that door but when you were about to turn around and run, they opened and your heart squeezed in your chest.

To your surprise, it was your betrothed leaving the mysterious room. He was wearing gladiator attire and holding a blade in his hand with blood still dripping. His eyes widened at the sight of you and you froze.

“What are you doing here?” He asked in his deep and raspy voice.

“I… I got lost, I’m sorry. I’ve been told to roam freely around the fortress and explore on my own but I got lost…” You explained as you shivered.

Feyd-Rautha approached you slowly like predators approach their prey. You took a step back and felt the wall behind you. You were trapped.

“Lost, you’re saying?” He smirked as he hovered over you. Your heart was pounding so fast in your chest that he just had to hear it. He rested one of his hands on the wall above your head and leaned in even closer. “You’ve accidentally gone underground where I train on my slaves,” he smiled almost playfully, showing off his black stained teeth.

“I’m sorry, I did not mean to..” You gasped but he shushed you with a soft hiss.

“Did I say it was forbidden?” He asked and you shook your head. “Come, I’ll show you,” Feyd straightened himself and reached out his hand towards you as if he was a proper gentleman.

Everything inside you was screaming to run away and to not follow him anywhere. But you were aware that he would catch you in a second and your attempt would only most likely enrage him. And very soon you would belong to him anyway. You would be his property whether you wanted it or not.

You held his hand and he froze at the feeling of your ice cold and shivering fingers.

“You are cold,” he pointed out. “And scared.”

“I am not scared,” you lied. You had been taught that The Harkonnens hated fear and cowardice.

“And a liar,” Feyd-Rautha sneered and led you inside the mysterious room he had previously left.

It was big and dark like every other room in that fortress. There was a dead body of a servant in gladiator gear laying on the floor in the puddle of his own blood. The walls were covered in all sorts of weapons.

“This is where I train,” Feyd announced proudly. He had to think it would impress you but it only made you sick, especially the sight of the dead man on the floor. You had never seen death in such a brutal and ugly way before. But now you were sure it was not the last time.

Feyd was visibly waiting for your response as he let go of your hand and took a step back to tilt his head and watch your expressions carefully. You realised it was a test of how much you were able to handle as his wife.

You wondered what would happen if you failed all the tests. Would they just send you back home or would they get rid of you? Were they even able to do that? You didn’t want to find out.

“It is impressive, my Lord na-baron,” you admitted with a shaky nod of your head and he winced at your words which made you furrow your brows.

“Don’t address me like a servant, pet,” he clicked his tongue and you nodded, slightly uncomfortable at the way he had called you.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised. “How should I address you then?”

“However you like,” Feyd shrugged his arms and approached you once again, raising his bloody blade slightly as you flinched. It brought a smile to his full lips. Looking deep into your eyes, he licked the blade clean. You clenched your jaw and tried to keep a poker face on but a knot formed in your stomach at the disgusting act.

You hated to admit that he was attractive for a Harkonnen. There was a magnetic energy about him that made you attracted to him like a moth was driven to a flame. Even his harsh and unpleasant voice was leaving you wanting more.

Feyd brushed your hair with the tip of his freshly cleaned blade, carefully, making sure not to cut any strand.

“I want you to always wear your hair like this,” he looked even more intensely into your eyes.

“That would be inappropriate,” you tried to explain. “It’s not considered elegant.”

“I said, I want you to always wear your hair like this,” he repeated like he couldn’t understand why you were trying to argue. He was a spoiled na-baron and completely not used to people disobeying him. So, you just nodded this time.

“Then I will,” you promised. “If I could only get a hairbrush, though. Or a comb. So they don’t tangle,” you pleaded and he squinted his eyes at you as the tip of his blade moved to under your chin. You swallowed thickly at that gesture.

“A hairbrush or a comb,” he repeated your words. “That can be arranged,” he added and you smiled nervously at him. “What are you scared of?”

“Of the blade under my chin perhaps?” You raised an eyebrow at him and he chuckled, however his hand remained still.

“Weren’t you sent here to be my wife?” Feyd’s smile dropped in an instant. He was serious again and you took a deep breath in, tugging on the folds of your dress to hide how sweaty your hands had become.

“Yes, I was,” you nodded.

“And what do you think of that?”

“I don’t think. I have been preparing for that since I was a child,” you answered.

“I want to be a good husband,” his sudden confession made your eyes widen. In one swift move he took the blade away from you and replaced it with his hand as he held your chin up, forcing you to look into his eyes. “My uncle says that a wife should not be an enemy. He wants me to court you properly,” he explained.

“Is your uncle experienced in marriage?” You asked, curiously. You had been taught that Baron Harkonnen had never been married.

Feyd laughed at your question as his grip on your chin tightened. He moved his face even closer to yours, your nose nearly brushed his and it made you hold your breath.

“Can you think of a woman who would not become his enemy after being forced to marry him?” He asked you and you dared to chuckle at that.

“So, I assume, I do not have to worry about you becoming like him one day?” You bit on your lower lip, realising that he indeed did not want to hurt you.

Perhaps that whole uncomfortable and threatening situation was his idea of intimacy. You wouldn’t be surprised.

“My uncle is not my role model,” he only answered and took a step back, removing his hand from your chin. “I don’t have idols.”

“What do you worship then?” You furrowed your brows.

“Blood and honour,” he answered with all seriousness. “Allow me to give you something, my pet. A gift for my bride to be,” he proposed and you hesitantly agreed, not wanting to hurt his feelings by refusing.

You expected him to approach one of the walls and hand you some of the weapons. But, to your surprise, he kneeled down next to the dead body laying on the floor and he opened its chest with the sharp tip of his blade. You gagged quietly and covered your mouth with your hand, trying to look away as the metallic smell of blood hit your nostrils, leaving you nauseous.

The sound of his heavy footsteps made you look in his direction again, not wanting to offend him in any way. He was walking towards you proudly with a real human heart in his hands, blood dripping off of it on the floor, leaving a trace. With all your force you stopped yourself from squealing at the sight. No amount of training and studying The Harkonnen culture had prepared you for this.

Feyd-Rautha reached his hands out as he offered you his foul gift. He was staring at you intensely, expecting praise of some sort or admiration. However, you had none. You let the wet organ slip into your hands as you gagged once again at the sensation and a shiver went down your body. Your reaction caused Feyd to tilt his head and squint his eyes.

“What am I supposed to do with it?” You asked in a shaky voice.

“You don’t like it,” he pointed out after a short while of silence and you got scared of upsetting him.

“It’s not that I don’t like it, I just…” you started, trying to nervously explain yourself.

“You don’t like it,” he repeated, both annoyed and disappointed.

“I appreciate the gesture,” you tried to assure him. “I will keep it,” you promised.

“Why don’t you like it?” He asked once again, ignoring all your words. You sighed.

“It’s just not something I’m used to. In my homeworld, we don’t give each other human hearts,” you explained softly.

“What do you give each other?” His question was genuine and curious.

“Haven’t you studied my customs like I have been studying yours?” You asked but the answer was obvious.

“My uncle says it is not important for me to know your culture because you are here to become one of us,” Feyd explained. “The only thing I have been studying was the blade,” he added. “So, what kind of gifts do your people give?”

“Flowers,” you answered. “For example.”

“There are no flowers on Giedi Prime,” Feyd pointed out. “No seed blooms in our soil.”

“I understand,” you nodded, nervously. “I am grateful for your gift, Feyd-Rautha. I appreciate your courtship,” you assured him but your voice and hands were shaking as your face was visibly disgusted.

Someone knocked upon the doors and Feyd barked at them to come in. You turned around and saw two guards sighing out of relief at the sight of you.

“There you are, my Lady!” One of them approached you. “We’ve been searching everywhere. Let us escort you back to your chambers,” he bowed his head.

You nodded at him, relieved as well at the sight of them. You wanted nothing else than to go back to the familiar part of the fortress and to finally leave this awkward and uncomfortable situation with your betrothed.

Still holding the heart carefully in your hands, you walked out without even glancing at Feyd-Rautha. The guards took you to your chambers where the worried servants had been waiting. They gasped at the sight of your gift.

“What is it, my Lady?” One of the girls asked you.

“It’s a gift from Feyd-Rautha,” you explained as they all widened their eyes. “I have no idea what to do with it,” you admitted.

“Feyd Rautha gave it to you, my Lady?” The servant swallowed thickly and you nodded. “Do you know what it means, my Lady?”

“No,” you shook your head and handed the organ to another girl. “I desperately need to wash my hands and change my dress,” you said and disappeared into the bathroom where you spent fifteen minutes getting rid of the blood.

You took the stained dress off and threw it on the floor before walking out back to your chamber. The girls were already preparing the heart as they put it in a jar full of some odd liquid.

“It will dry in there, my Lady,” one of them explained. “Na-baron must be really enamoured with you, my Lady, or perhaps he is trying to show his best side to you.”

“Enamoured?” You snorted at her. “It’s gruesome.”

“It’s the most romantic thing a Harkonnen man can give to a woman, my Lady,” the other woman added and you gasped.

“I haven’t been taught that…” You whispered, feeling extremely stupid for the way you had treated Feyd-Rautha before. You had to anger him dearly and his rage was not something you wanted to deal with. “What is the equivalent of such a gift for a man? What can I give him in return?” You asked the servants and they looked at each other’s faces, surprised.

“There is no equivalent, my Lady,” one of them answered. “Harkonnen women do not court. Only men do.”

On the next day, when you were leaving your chambers to go to your class, you spotted the doors nearby opening and your betrothed walking out of them. Your room was in the same area as his so it was no surprise but you didn’t expect to see him at the same time in the morning. At the sight of you, he looked down and walked past you without a word, which made you feel bad for him and for the way you had treated him. But it also made you anxious because his uncle has been right about marriage. You didn’t want Feyd-Rautha to be your enemy.

Giedi Prime was far from perfect and your betrothed was an odd, psychotic creature. You couldn’t change your destiny, though, so you had to embrace it to make it bearable.

“Feyd, wait,” you rushed after him and he froze when you grabbed the sleeve of his robe. He turned around and looked at you coldly.

“I am in a hurry,” he drawled.

“So am I. But I wanted to apologise. I have been studying the Harkonnen culture for years but I have never been told of the meaning of such a gift,” you explained, feeling your cheeks getting warm. “Please, forgive me. I didn't mean to reject you.”

“The heart was of a low quality,” he admitted as his face softened slightly. “Next time I will give you the heart of a real warrior, a real enemy. Not some slave,” he added. “My uncle has already reprimanded me for that.”

You broke a smile at him. It was adorable in a way how this scary and dangerous man was following his uncle’s guide on courtship, trying to be on his best behaviour around you. It was making you feel powerful in a way.

“I would like to return the favour but my servants have informed me there is no such tradition,” you confessed. “What can I do for you to forgive me?”

Feyd-Rautha hesitated for a moment as he looked away, thinking intensely about something. Then he laid his eyes on you again and leaned in to join your lips together. You were startled at first, your heart pounded in your chest. Raised to become his wife, you had never kissed anybody before and saved yourself for him only, however it felt as if his soft lips were truly made for yours. You put your hand on his chest and opened your mouth to invite his tongue in. He devoured you, greedily wanting to explore your mouth and feast on your taste. His hands pulled you closer by your hips and you put your free hand behind his head. Seeing him for the first time in real life two days ago, you had been slightly uncomfortable at the sight of him. But now you did not feel any of that.

Even if you hadn’t been prepared to become his wife, you’d still want him. You had been born to be his.

Feyd’s hands moved up and cupped your face before breaking the kiss and moving away gently. You took a deep breath in as he stared into your eyes and caressed your loose hair.

“You’re forgiven, my pet,” he told you. “By the way, I’ve ordered a hair brush for you.”

MASTERLIST

#dune imagine #dune x reader #dune fanfic #feyd rautha imagine #feyd rautha fanfic #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen imagine #feyd rautha harkonnen fanfic #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #austin butler x reader #lilysfiction

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ginnysgraffiti · 20 days ago

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BRUCE WAYNE x yn.

bruce wayne on vacation with you (and alfred) head-canons:

settings:

- bruce doesn’t “vacation” in the traditional sense. he disappears. disconnection is the point. italy is just far enough from gotham, and just close enough to his parents’ old europe memories, to tempt him.

- you’re staying in a sleek, private villa on the amalfi coast. ocean-facing cliffs. private pool inside and outside. private tennis court. secluded. the kind of place that whispers in old money and smells like lemon and salt.

- alfred picked the villa. he pretended it was for “a bit of sunlight” and “proper olive oil,” but really he thought it might help bruce feel human for once.

domestic mornings + boat days:

- bruce wakes up early. not batman-early, but still earlier than he should. you wake to the sound of the sea and the faint clinking of dishes — he’s in the kitchen, trying to brew espresso like alfred taught him. it’s terrible. you never told him. but he tries. every morning.

- he reads the paper barefoot, shirtless, glasses perched low on his nose. you steal the section he’s reading just to annoy him. he lets you — with a smirk hidden behind his coffee.

- you both brush your teeth side by side in the enormous marble bathroom, elbowing each other like kids. he always steals your towel. alfred usually strolls in at some point with a disapproving look and a perfectly ironed linen shirt.

“i thought two billionaires could manage to make a functional coffee machine work.”

- bruce pilots the boat himself. of course. it’s about control, about escape — not luxury. he’s quiet at the helm, sunglasses on, jaw tight. every turn is clean, perfect, precise. everything Gotham isn’t.

- he lets you lie across the sun-warmed deck, legs tangled with his, fingers skimming the sea spray. there’s a softness there — a private peace that only you see. no reporters. no board meetings. no masks.

- he’ll sometimes dive off the boat in silence, emerging slick and breathless. when you join him, he watches you swim like you’re something impossible. like joy personified. sometimes he would untie your bikini while you two are swimming just to see your reaction.

- he doesn’t laugh often, but when he does — usually at something you say, or when Alalfred pretends to slip into the sea “by accident” — it’s real. low, gravelly, and makes your chest tighten with affection.

- bruce packs lunch in a cooler like it’s a mission briefcase. grapes, olives, little sandwiches alfred cut diagonally (“as it should be”). and wine, because of course.

- he lets you pilot the boat sometimes — and pretends not to hover, but absolutely hovers. hands near yours. giving “suggestions.” “you’re drifting to port.” “i’m literally not.”

- you both wear swimsuits under linen, sunglasses, and matching smugness. he never sunburns — you accuse him of being genetically modified. he claims it “discipline.” alfred says it’s “a leathery sort of vanity.”

- at anchor, he lounges on the deck with his head in your lap while you read aloud from whatever novel you found in the villa. he listens with his eyes closed, hand curled loosely around your thigh.

- alfred occasionally joins for the boat days — usually to bring “actual food” or sit in the shade with a book. he never swims. claims it’s “a matter of dignity.”

local errands + wandering:

- bruce actually enjoys going into town with you. walks the cobblestone streets in tailored shirts and sunglasses like some international art dealer. still somehow invisible. only some locals recognize him — and they don’t care too much.

- he picks out fresh figs with the precision of someone analyzing evidence. you joke he looks like he’s profiling fruit. he laughs, quietly.

- at the market, you stop to buy sunflowers. bruce carries them the whole way back like it’s the most important thing he’s ever held.

- alfred always finds a cafe to sit in while you wander. he pretends not to watch over you like a hawk. bruce doesn’t pretend. he watches your reflection in every shop window.

evenings:

- dinner is simple, warm, and always eaten slowly. bruce likes hearing you talk about small things. favorite pasta shapes. a weird dream you had. he listens like it’s important.

- dinner is always outside. al fresco on the terrace, candlelight flickering over aged wine and fresh seafood. alfred insists on cooking half the time, and critiques the other half with brutal elegance.

- bruce often eats in silence, swirling wine, watching the stars. he’ll touch your hand under the table — always gentle, always like he’s reminding himself you’re still here.

- you catch him staring sometimes. not in lust — in awe. like he can’t quite believe he’s allowed this moment. that someone like him can sit in peace and not pay for it with blood.

- after dinner, he’ll sometimes pull you into his lap on the chaise lounge. he won’t say much — just rest his chin on your shoulder, arms wrapped around you, warm breath against your skin. “stay a while longer.” you always do.

- sometimes, you both dance in the living room. no music — just the hush of waves and the occasional soft scoff from alfred in the corner with his wine. “shall i fetch rose petals and a string quartet as well?”

- other times, after dinner, bruce will sit behind you and rub your shoulders, whispering whatever alfred cooked next time, he’s replicating. he’s not good at compliments — but he adores when you laugh.

- you fall asleep on the couch half the nights. he always carries you to bed.

bruce being bruce:

- wears white linen shirts, rolled to the elbows. tailored, of course. somehow never wrinkles. wears them open when it’s just you — revealing sun-bronzed skin and a few fading bruises.

- still works out every morning. early. alfred rolls his eyes at the makeshift rooftop pull-up bar. “do try not to rebuild the batcave in every country we visit, master wayne.”

- he checks gotham news secretly when you’re asleep. watches CCTV of the manor. sometimes replays footage of past nights on patrol. you caught him once. he denied. you let him.

- brings a secure phone everywhere. he never answers it.

private moments:

- he touches you more, here in vacation. not always sexually — but constantly. a hand at your waist. a thumb brushing your knuckles. a kiss to your temple while you’re reading on the balcony.

- he makes love to you like he’s praying. slow. intentional. with reverence. he needs it here — not the roughness, not the release — but the closeness. the proof that he’s still human.

#christian bale #christian bale type of boyfriend #christian bale type of bf #christian bale x yn #christian bale headcanon #christian bale x reader #the dark knight #batman #batman headcanon #batman x reader #batman x yn #bruce wayne #bruce wayne headcanon #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x yn

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dreamlikevening · 6 days ago

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select an ice cream for a reading !

₊˚⊹ᰔ ˚⟡˖ ࣪ the thoughts on your mind & the purpose they are soft-serving 🍦🍦♡ [paper slip reading + intuitive channeling] ₊˚⊹ᰔ ˚⟡˖ ࣪

𝓬𝓱𝓸𝓬𝓸𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓮 𝓲𝓬𝓮 𝓬𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · group one ˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ ·

confirmations ! 422, 44, crescent moons, letters D, N, M, life path 6, an album with a question mark on the cover or a song with a question mark in the title, king arthur (drawing a sword from a stone, camelot, excalibur), night hangouts, lanterns, green beetles, fruit flies, fireflies, leaves on the floor, cleaning supplies, air signs

hey there group one !! glad to see you here ! let’s talk about some of the thoughts you’ve been having recently. some of these are going to be relatively mundane on the outside but spirit is directing you towards them for a reason. these will probably be thoughts that keep reappearing for no apparent reason but i’m not getting that they weigh on you or anything unpleasant. it all seems very gentle and chill.

₊˚⊹ᰔ the thoughts

something about upgrading or cleaning a physical space. you may be wondering how to make a certain space that you reside in more clean & beautiful. how to put your essence to it, and how to make it more livable and soothing. i sense this is a need for groundedness. part of earth energy (root-chakra) is having a pleasant physical environment that you look forward to spending time in / unwinding in. i’m guessing you want to figure out how to do that for yourself! first of all, sit down and actively write notes on it that intuitively come to mind. i mean literally just sit on your bed, open your notes app or pull out some sticky notes, a paper sheet, anything ! and just Think about what things you would like to add in your room. let the creative ideas flow to you, but choose to open up to them. if you’d like, you can say something to yourself like “higher-self, please guide me to some ideas to better my living space!”. let them come to you, your thoughts will find something wonderful if you just ask them to look for it. write em’ all down!

something specific you can do is rearrange some furniture. or remove some larger items that you don’t Need in your room / area that you are focusing on. make more space! sitting on the floor could be really important for you to ground yourself. i’m specifically getting that if you have a small table or some sort of chair / couch / chaise lounge you should relocate it within the same room, just a different part of it. it will do wonders. some feng shui coming into work here LOL maybe you would benefit from an interior design-fengshui magazine right now !? if you’re reading this in the summer or a season in your life where you are taking a break and just wanting to relax, now is the perfect time !!!! this will be very beneficial. and even crucial i just heard to your well-being. these seemingly small moves. did you buy or receive a house appliance back in october / a while ago that you haven’t put to use ?? don’t let it collect dust. use it !!! it’s going to help you with a significant issue / mini-trouble you’ve been having. like a vacuum, coffee machine, or blender. also.. have random spoons or utensils / items from the kitchen been going missing in your home ? then reappearing in a strange spot ? if you pray to angels, that is them. any spirit guides really.

watch that comfort movie you’ve been wanting to watch. listen to that new album your favs dropped. collect things you find outside that seem strange to collect — have fun! indulge in some candies! answer some emails or texts that you’ve been procrastinating. if you’ve been having some questions come up in your mind, try answering them yourself. try this: write your question on a sheet of paper, pretend you are a friend or therapist, and write down an answer to the question with whatever comes to mind. you may see some very interesting insights show up. and you can try it with any question no matter how mundane such as “what color soap should i buy?” LOL. pleasant aromas are a really big theme for you ??? aromatherapy is definitely a FRIEND right now !! candles, bed & linen sprays, hair mists, essential oils. make a small investment into those if you’ve been feeling a bit on edge, anxious, or nervous.

₊˚⊹ᰔ the purpose

so if you were to follow your thoughts through with curiosity and take any actions, the purpose that would be fulfilled is: motivations to get more in touch with yourself, specifically your body and the enjoyment part of life. getting to know your essence better. doubting your instincts and intuition a lot less. noticing the small things and appreciating them. flushing out stagnant energy. releasing bodily tension (feet, legs, lower back) bonus points if you are have prominent capricorn placements / capricorn in the 1st or 6th house. overall, pay attention or look into your 6th and 1st houses right now ! that may guide you to some answers you’ve been seeking. this is a time where you can release any control, grudges, or pressure you’ve been experiencing. i just got a visual of the 10 of wands tarot card in my head so look out for her in other readings right now!

thank you so much for reading! i send you a lot of light. ♡

𝓿𝓪𝓷𝓲𝓵𝓵𝓪 𝓲𝓬𝓮 𝓬𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · group two ˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ ·

confirmations ! november, september, autumn, seeing lots of animals, tiny heart tattoos & doodles, large trees, daylight outings, summer solstice (june 20th), marker or paint stains, cool toned flowers (purples, blues)

hello group two! thank you for joining me here! today we are covering some thoughts that have been popping up in your head that spirit chose to talk about today. some may seem insignificant but we will dive into what purpose they are serving in your life afterwards. as always, take what resonates and allow the rest to belong with another soul ! thank you !

₊˚⊹ᰔ the thoughts

have you been questioning what you really want out of life? out of yourself? your deepest desires? it’s worth it to sit with that question intentionally and meditate on it. just sit down and reflect. think about it with no preoccupations. let them simmer and see what comes to you. i think you’re genuinely curious about what intrigues you, satisfies you, and helps you feel truly pleasured in life. a small tip i have for you is to make a list and any time you notice something making you laugh, smile brightly, excite you, or truly capture your attention, add it! it can be your “happy list”. another way to tap into your desires is to pay attention to what you admire in other people. i thought of a heart-clenching feeling like when you repress a desire because you think you’re never meant to have a certain something. you do not have to pretend you don’t want something to protect yourself from not receiving it. note that thing which lights you up, because there is absolutely a reason for it. i bet we’ll talk about that in the “purpose of your thoughts” section in a bit. but trust me please, and trust your heart. if you see something you really like in the internet that seems unattainable, remind yourself you can have it too. it’s never impossible. i’m thinking of material things mostly so know that you can decide what value and purpose an item holds in your life. but please know, it is normal and necessary for you to like things. love them. fawn over them. admire them. want them. desire is crucial to living a human life. i hope you can lessen the burden of shame you have towards “wanting more”. if you currently do not have access to as many resources as others or certain things, gratitude is a great soother for this time. look at what you DO have in the mean time. you have things that other people want as well, this is always true.

anyhow have you been practicing something? a script, a song, a dance? some sort of fun study? it’s shining a loooot of bright energy into your life and helping you become more vital. some of you may be facing an initial tiring feeling from this thing but it’s literally just going to be the first three times you do it aka the get-go. by the fourth time you’ll enjoy the hell out of it. sometimes your body just needs to readjust to a new situation and then once it does, your mind & spirit become comforted too! i just heard “smile more”. do you beat yourself up for your resting face or because you wish you smiled more? umm. honey.. i don’t know who or what made you feel bad about your natural expressions in the first place. know that people can sense your truth without you having to be super explicit and loud with your emotions. you’re doing just fine. please let that rest. i’m handing you a pink permission slip with bold black letters that says YOU ARE FREE TO GIVE YOURSELF A BREAK! i feel drawn to saying i love you so much. so i think you needed that. if you can, please hug someone close to you tightly one of these days. otherwise, i’m here. i’m telepathically sending a tight ass hug your way. with your consent. i’m flustered now i’m sorry KCBWLNDSK spirit takes me in such unique routes sometimes. but yes, let your quirks be quirks. they are a part of your true soul’s blueprint. the realest, most open you is veryyy quirky. that is a huge plus.

** i made this for you and anyone else who reads it . this is so funny2me. #theplacesintuitiontakesmeimlaughing

i just saw +++ do you need to replace some batteries or something?? do that.. yes.. hmm.. also go outside more often to just take a deep breath while feeling the sunlight or the fresh air. it doesn’t have to be a full 10 minutes or anything! this helps with circulation and with anxiety or pent up energy. i did want to mention that you may want to check out group one as well because i just had a feeling you could find something useful in there !!!

i just heard be a bit careful with what kind of content you’re consuming right now. you could be very vulnerable to media such as movies, people’s profiles, or just prone to distractions. try not to fall into a media trap right now! but it’s okay if you do. let your gut guide you. listening to soft, ambient, floaty music may be very veryyyy soothing right now ! you may be wanting to upgrade your playlists. just for that i’m gonna channel some songs for you in a bit dear :-) 🎵my all by mariah carey, express by christina aguilera, star by colde, backburner by niki, tokyo by RM.

₊˚⊹ᰔ the purpose

growing more accustomed to your “new life” is what i heard. maybe you’ve started visiting or living in a new environment and your mind is offering you lots of opportunities and insight on how to make this an easier transition and experience. if somebody gives you a notepad, it’s a lucky charm. if you’ve been seeing groups of animals that is a good omen. overall, your current thoughts are there to get you situated into a place. to know that enjoyment is neverrrr ever out of reach. you have the power to create it and make it bloom. if you have a birthday coming up, do not mope around. pleaaaasee go out that day even if it’s alone, date yourself. or do at least one thing for yourself. play a comfort movie. sit and sing your favorite songs. eat a really nice meal. something, anything that lights you up, DO IT !!!! if you aren’t the moper, do not let others mope around you on your special day or any day really. if you are generally upbeat and someone that you are in contact with just drains your energy in the snap of a finger, do not entertain this persons shenanigans or moping. i keep hearing moping. this is sucky energy of someone who has everythingggg at their disposal to enjoy life but for some reason they don’t do sh1t to change that. it’s really really bugging me. you do not need this person in your atmosphere. annoying as he11. sorry. much love to this person and YOU especially though. please surround yourself with bright, vital energies. the colors yellow and green are lucky colors for you okay?? your thoughts are really trying to get you to 1. up your energy levels 2. enjoy more & make the most out of things 3. just feel more chill and comfortable wherever you are.

that’s what i have for you group two, thank you so so much for reading and i sincerely hope these messages found you well. sending you lots of light 💡 !!

𝓼𝓽𝓻𝓪𝔀𝓫𝓮𝓻𝓻𝔂 𝓲𝓬𝓮 𝓬𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · group three ˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ ·

confirmations ! “zone”, #12, money, muse, the letter R, crown chakra, the color purple, lock symbols 🔒🗝️🔑, strawberries, agate crystals, twilight

hello hello my group three. let’s address those recent amusing thoughts of yours that spirit is guiding me towards, big or small. it seems insights are forthcoming and these will be the ones worth your attention and care! i hope they find you well, thank you!

i see you are trying to enter a place ?? but feel blocked from it / lacking the access. it may seem like a golden opportunity is hiding from you behind closed doors. your guides / higher self’s piece of insight is to rest for now. do not force yourself into this situation, and let it go for now. i don’t mean lose hope or lose the goal, just step back for now ! you’ve done enough, it’s time for a slow retreat. have you been eating hot foods, tea, broth, root veggies, or any other grounding foods? or if you’ve been thinking about what to eat, those are some good options! the song that’s playing right now is saying “i just want to be happier.” and again, i’m thinking that you want to “earn” your way into a person’s life or into a situation and your message is that you do not need to earn anything. wanting something or someone is different than feeling like if you are granted permission or recognition from this thing you are confirmed to be “good” or “worthy” in some aspect. you are already deemed a respectable person. i think you’ve been having a lot of thoughts about putting in the hours, efforts, and time, and it not feeling satisfying enough. rather than external validation, you may just need a slight perspective adjustment or an extra addition to your routine that helps you ground your wishes and efforts. it can be something like a daily affirmation that your efforts today were enough even if you did just one thing. celebrate your actions, it is not easy whatsoever to be acting, moving, and giving all the time. it’s also not sustainable. any feelings of being stuck right now are due to this perception that you must keep pushing, pulling, forcing, or trying over and over. that’s not to say you are making “nothingness” happen or “attracting” it because you’re working too hard. no, not at all. you’re doing just fine—you’re just not crediting yourself for that. and that’s all you need love! it could be a good idea to write down all the tasks you completed in a day by the end of the day or weekly. like 1. did the dishes 2. washed clothes 3. responded to a text 4. **insert your actions. just recognize your work. slow down to observe your efforts. a loooottt of prize and progress can come from that seemingly insignificant moment of inaction. things will start to run then. gears turning. if you’ve been considering partaking in something of significance in the summer or in the fall, your mind is requesting rest before you enter and truly look into that prospect. clean up your mind and let yourself take a break in the mean time, and enter any new endeavors with that rested, clean, refreshed mind. you’ll be able to discern between what you feel pressured to do vs. what you are actually willing to do.

₊˚⊹ᰔ the purpose

a reminder that the only thing you Need is yourself. you need yourself. your mind seeks you for a reason, listen to it, open up your heart for your mind is a tender place. overall, your thoughts are helping you and assisting you in making more room for things in your life. that is, the quality of “receiving”. and it’s saying: but first! rest! reflection! stepping back! friends could be significant right now. make sure you’re paying a little more attention to your own concerns right now rather than other people’s. your business wants your attention! if you are interested in chakra work, your crown chakra and third eye chakra could require your attention right now. just simple awareness of them. overall, the purpose that your thoughts are serving is opening you up to receive more gifts! to open up your vessel to receive. to remember what is important to you. and to know that you are always doing more than enough, especially if you are a very restless person who wants more out of life. you’d be surprised how much you really do.. but you can’t always see it because of your restlessness!! you are lots better than your mind will sometimes allow you to think.

a song i channeled for you is “blue & grey” by bts (“i just wanna be happier” lyric). it is a mellow, emotionally vulnerable song that is quite .. tender.

thank you so much for joining me today, group three! i’m wishing you a lot of love, luck, and calm in your endeavors. the mighty storm is weathered by a mighty mind. take care.

#intuitivechanneling #intuitivereadings #tarot #oraclereading #tarotreading #spirituality #channeled message #pickacard #pickapile #pick a pile #pick a photo #pick a picture #pick a reading #channeled reading #channeled messages #divider by saradika-graphics ! ♥︎

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lifeisyoung4everyone · 10 months ago

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ZAYNE DOMESTIC HEADCANONS

PART 2

cw: suggestive +18 below cut!!!

Zayne who, when he doesn’t want to read research articles to get you asleep- due to how monotonous and tedious they get- instead reads ‘The Little Prince’ to you. Sometimes to tease you he turns the book and points to the picture like he’s reading it to a little kid or something. If you react with a warning paw to his arm he’ll respond with a breathy chuckle.

Zayne who always steals a sip of your drink with your straw when you’re out on a lunch date. Will tell you that a variety of liquids is good for the diet if you call him out.

Zayne who responds to the doodles you make on the calendar hung on his kitchen wall with his own snowman doodles. You can tell there’s a lot of love behind them but certainly also a lazily held pen (which you’ll allow since he does these very early in the morning before work). Other times he’ll just respond with comments like “oh really?” to the nonsense you write and graffiti on that thing.

Zayne who enjoys all kinds of sweet cold treats but always has some classic Magnum ice creams in his freezer drawer because it’s a reliable choice. He can’t nag you and will just give a touché happy sigh about any sort of snacks you store next to his beloved Magnums: it’s your checkmate.

Zayne who has a small potted plant in the desk of his office. He’s never really went too long without watering it, but ever since you’ve put a plant poke with a cute little character to give company to his plant, he’s never been more motivated to water it. It certainly adds a bit of you to his space, and he has the habit of stroking the little plant’s leaves in caress when he thinks of you during work.

Zayne who packs your bag for uni or work if he knows you’ll be too busy to attend to it until the morning or if you’ve dozed off already.

Zayne who readjusts your sleeping positions with the most gentle hands, otherwise he can’t be soothed to continue doing anything else. He gets prickles on his back just to think about you waking up with a hurting back.

Zayne who feels contentment he can’t describe when he slides his closet door open and opens the shallow little accessory drawer, and finds your jewellery in a specialised velvet tray and his prescription glasses on the other end.

Zayne who because of you, has a little egg timer resemblant of a chicken to help out when he cooks. He used to just use alarms on his phone, but ever since your silly little gift, he won’t use anything else. The first thing he did when he found the incongruous little chicken character was ask if you if it had a name.

Zayne who picked up your little habit of storing socks as little balls. When you’re both sat on the bed balling up his and your socks, he’ll grab one like a snowball and boop it to the side of your cheek.

Zayne who when he sees you really sluggish coming out the shower, will get you dressed and have you sit cross-legged on the edge of the bed mattress as he stands and dries your hair with the hairdryer.

Zayne who once put your soiled slippers in the washing machine while you slept before leaving for work in a really early dark winter morning. He kissed your hand and jotted down a little note on the bedside table for you to use his slippers instead, which were faced outwards from where you’d naturally put your feet to get up from bed.

Zayne who has a regime with you of cutting and peeling fruits for each other back and forth. Once outdid you by making his orange to you look like a water lily, knowing and having schemed that you couldn’t do anything more creative. The bastard. All your oranges from henceforth were like that, to rub it in your face with the excuse of vitamin D. Yeah right. You’ll get him.

Zayne who involuntarily (or voluntarily, who knows) flusters you when removing your underwear from the plastic peg rack. Upon meeting your dazzled face, holds the cloth almost touching the side of his cheek.“Should I not take this garment to face value?”

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teddy06writes · 1 month ago

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Our House Is A Very Very Very Fine House

Robert 'Bob' Floyd x gn!reader

Prompt: Our House by Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young

Trigger Warnings: None <3

Summary: After a quiet morning spent together, the Dagger Squad helps you and Bob celebrate finally moving into the new house

{Playlist that kinda fits the vibe I'm going for here}

Warm morning light was already starting to filter through the half open blinds, rousing you slightly, when you felt your husband slip softly out of bed.

Reaching out to chase his warmth, you grumbled sleepily, barley cracking open your eyes, "Where're you goin'?"

Bob tangled his hand with your gently, a chuckle escaping his lips as he leaned over to press a soft kiss to your temple, "To fix us some coffee, darlin'."

"How did I get so lucky?" You grinned, blinking up at Bob's sunlight dappled face.

"Been askin' myself that all morning." He whispered, leaning in again to meet you for another, longer kiss.

After a few long minutes where it seemed like you might almost be successful in luring him back into bed, he finally disentangled himself, padding out of the bedroom, with the promise of coffee. You watch him disappear down the hall, before turning to look around the newly furnished master bedroom with a satisfied sigh.

You had officially moved into the new house two days ago, and what a chaotic day move in had been. Somehow between all twelve of the daggers, two of their commanding officers, and Jake, Brigham, and Ruben's trucks, everything from the old apartment, as well as your storage unit, had made it to the house by noon. The rest of the day had been utter chaos as the aviators moved around furniture, sorted boxes, and did their best to unpack helpfully.

At one point, sensing the anxiety on both of your faces, Natasha had all but dragged you and Bob out of the house, sending you on a trip to pick up anything you had forgotten, and promising that they had everything handled.

When you two had returned to the house an hour later, every car but her old wrangler had disappeared, and she sat with Callie on the front porch in the patio furniture they had assembled, discussing plans for the following weekend.

Natasha had grinned as you came back up the walkway, explaining that she had sent the rest of the guys away, and that she and Callie had undone whatever messes they had made in the meantime.

~~~

When the smell of coffee began to float through the house, you finally managed to tug yourself out of bed, padding down the hall toward the kitchen. Pausing at the end of the hall, you drank in the sight of Bob moving around the kitchen, setting out coffee mugs beside the humming machine, before moving back to pouring pancake mix into the pan already settled on the stove.

It was as easy as breathing to move across the floor and wrap your arms around his waist from behind, nuzzling your face into his back, "Morning, Bobby."

"There you are," You could hear the smile in his voice, and he reached down to squeeze your hand with his free one, "Coffee should be ready in a second."

You humed absently, pressing a kiss to his shoulder before pulling away and beginning to assemble a plate of fruit, and other pancake fixings. When the coffee pot had filled, you quickly fixed Bob's mug the way he liked it, sliding it along the counter to him before making your own.

A few minutes later, after the pancakes had come off of the stove, you found yourself seated across from Bob at the breakfast nook, discussing your plans for the day.

"Javy said he'd bring over things for the grill, so we're all set on that front," Bob took a swig from his mug, glancing up at you, "But if you're still making that pasta salad we'll need to hit the store eventually."

You nodded, hooking your ankle around his under the table, "Well I'm sure if we take inventory, we're gonna realize there's other stuff we still need. We can go in an hour or two and still have some time before everyone gets here."

Bob hummed in agreement, and a quiet, comfortable silence settled over the kitchen. Outside, a breeze ruffled through the leaves on the trees that lined the far end of the backyard, the windchimes Billy and Neil had hung proudly at the corner of the house singing merrily.

~~~

Yesterday had been spent, first cleaning up and reorganizing from the chaos of moving day, and then continuing to unpack and settle into the rest of the house. While Bob had finished hanging photos and organizing the bookshelves in the living room, you sorted dishes into their proper places in the kitchen, singing along to your shared playlist and pausing to admire each others work every now and again.

It wasn't quite perfect yet, there were still some things here and there that needed a new coat of paint, and you would have to wait until the following weekend to begin planting in the flower boxes that lines the windows, but it felt perfect all the same. That night, you had tucked yourself into Bob's side on the sofa, looking around like you still couldn't quite believe it.

Bob had smiled sweetly, leaning in to capture your lips in a kiss, "Welcome home, baby."

~~~

A few hours later, you found yourself in the grocery store, winding your way through the isles as Bob followed behind with a cart, reminding you of the list as you went.

As you stood, debating between pasta shapes, Bob leaned against the cart, a small, fond smile on his face.

"-cause the cavatappi comes in a bigger box, so we'd only need two, but Mickey always claims that bowtie 'holds the flavors better'..." You turned toward your husband, trailing off when you spotted the look on his face, "What? Am i overthinking it? What's going on?"

"Maybe a little," He admitted with a chuckle, reaching up to push his glasses farther up his nose, "I'm just- happy."

"Because I've been holding us up in the pasta isle for ten minutes with my indecisiveness?" You raised an eyebrow, biting back a laugh of your own.

"Because we're grocery shopping. Because it's you I get to be grocery shopping with. Because I get to hold a housewarming party with you. That I get to listen to you debate over pasta shapes," He grinned, moving around the cart to wrap an arm around your waist, his hand, warm and sturdy against your side, "Cause I'm so lucky that this gets to be the rest of my life."

You couldn't help but smile into the chaste kiss you pressed to his lips, "You sweet thing... I love you too, Bobby."

The two of you stood there, lost in your own world for a few long moments before someone walking past cleared their throat, loudly, rousing you from whatever trance you had gone into. Bob glanced down at the floor, red tinting his cheeks as you laughed.

~~~

At home, as you put away the last of the groceries, Bob was busy arranging the flowers he had managed to purchase and get almost all the way back to the house without your knowing.

The endless stream of jokes from Jake and Javy about your husbands stealth pilot abilities really hadn't prepared you for just how secretive the man could be. It seemed he was nearly constantly cooking up some sort of simple surprise for you, be it sneaking away from you while grocery shopping to get flowers, or bringing home a book you had added to your TBR but could have sworn you hadn't mentioned.

As you folded the last grocery bag, Bob placed the vase of wildflowers on the kitchen island in front of you, "What do you think?"

"Their gorgeous, Bobby," You gripped his hand over the counter, "You didn't have to."

"I wanted to," He grinned, before leaning over conspiratorially to whisper, "Plus, I may or may not have heard that Jake's going to bring you flowers, and I can't have him out doing me, can I?"

"Well that's a shame, I was figuring all it would take for him to steal me away from you was one cliche red rose bouquet." You teased, giggling at the look Bob shot you in response.

You rocked forward to press a kiss to the tip of his nose in apology before straightening and moving to pull a pot from the cabinet, "Well, I'd better start on that pasta, or we'll never be eating."

"You need any help?" He asked, watching you intently.

"Start on the veggie board for me?" You asked, glancing back over your shoulder at him.

He smiled, already moving to get a cutting board, "Course."

~~~ The sound of a car pulling in the driveway, followed by chattering voices and a knock at the door sounded just a few minutes after you'd deposited the finished pasta salad into the fridge to chill.

You pulled away from Bob with a chuckle, "You ready?"

"As much as I can be, with these guys." He quipped, tangling his fingers with yours as he followed you toward the door.

Almost as soon as the door was open, Natasha was barging in, the crockpot in her hands held aloft, "I come bearing buffalo chicken dip!"

Behind her, Callie, Mickey, Ruben and Neil shuffled in off the porch, each carrying various other contributions to the cookout/potluck, and asking where they should be put.

It didn't take long for the whole house to fill with noise as the rest of the daggers appeared, spilling out into the backyard as Javy started up the grill. As the counters grew fuller with dishes to pass, Jake appeared with the promised bouquet of roses, which naturally, paled in comparison to the wildflowers already adorning the center island.

"Always have to one up me, don't you Bob?" Jake sighed dramatically.

Bob grinned triumphantly, slinging his arm around your waist and pulling you in, "Well, someone's got to put you in your place, Bagman."

He threw his hand over his heart, "Bobert how dare you?! I'm crushed!"

Bradley patted his shoulder in mock sympathy, herding him out towards the patio, "One day you'll manage to actually pull someone, Hangman."

The next knock at the door revealed Pete and Tom, who you quickly ushered in, "Thank you both so much for coming."

"Of course kiddo, we're happy to be here," Pete handed you the bottle of wine he carried, "Here, Ice picked it out, I have no sense for good wine."

"Consider it an apology for leaving you stranded amid a sea of aviators who can barley follow instructions on a regular day, let alone on moving day." Tom grinned, giving you a knowing look.

You smiled back, leading them through to the kitchen, "I appreciate that, sir."

Pete got one glimpse of whatever was going on in the backyard, and made a beeline for the door, already calling for Javy to surrender the grill, leaving you alone with the admiral as he looked around the newly decorated kitchen.

"Well, I must say, you've done a wonderful job with the place." He said.

"Thank you sir."

Tom chuckled, leaning back against the counter, "You can just call me Tom, okay? How's it feel, finally moving into your first house?"

"It was a little scary, at first. Between taking out the loans and moving in... it was a lot," You glanced around the kitchen, landing on the vase of wildflowers, before turning to look out the door, eyes finding Bob easily amid the crowd of other aviators, "But I'm glad we made it here. I can't think of anyone I'd rather make a home with."

Tom's eyes followed you own out the door, finding Pete where he was now forcibly giving Javy pointers, "I understand the feeling."

~~~

Later as everyone squeezed around the long dining room table, you cleared your throat, grabbing your glass and standing, "Excuse me, everyone, I'd like to say a few things before we really dig in here."

Bob squeezed your hand from where he sat at your side, two chairs splitting the head of the table.

"I just wanted to say thank you to you all, for being here today, and for helping us move in. I know it was a bit of a struggle, but we got there in the end," Your eyes roamed the room as you spoke, before dropping back to your husband at your side, "But more importantly, I'd like to thank you, Bobby, for taking on this incredible journey of making a home with me. I'm so happy that this gets to be the rest of my life. Cheers!"

As everyone around the table chorused, "Cheers!" And the room was filled with the sound of excited chatter and clinking glasses, you sat, eyes fixed only on Bob.

He raised your intertwined hands to press a kiss to your knuckles, "I love you too, darlin'."

~~~ Enjoy this fic? Support me on kofi :)

#teddy06 writes #teddy06 #teddy 06 #teddy06writes #top gun x reader #top gun x gn!reader #top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick x gn!reader #Bob floyd x reader #robert 'bob' floyd x reader #robert 'bob' floyd x gn!reader #bob floyd x gn!reader #dagger squad x reader

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jenniemark04 · 1 year ago

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Fruit Sorting Machine Manufacturers

A fruit sorting machine is a device that automatically sorts and separates fruits according to their size, shape, color, and other characteristics. It uses various sensors, cameras, and sorting mechanisms to quickly and accurately categorize fruits, making them suitable for further processing or packaging. VMT Apple is a top Fruit Sorting Machine Manufacturers in India. They offer a range of solutions for sorting and grading fruits based on size, shape, color, and quality. These machines are designed to increase efficiency and accuracy in fruit sorting, helping farmers and processors save time and reduce waste.

#Fruit Sorting Machine #Top Fruit Sorting Machine #Best Fruit Sorting Machine #Fruit Sorting Machine Manufacturers #Top Fruit Sorting Machine Manufacturers #Best Fruit Sorting Machine Manufacturers #Fruit Sorting Machine Manufacturers India #Fruit Sorting Machine Manufacturers in India #Top Fruit Sorting Machine Manufacturers in India #Best Fruit Sorting Machine Manufacturers in India

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theweewooshow · 1 year ago

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Buck wakes up to his limbs being moved, to the mattress shifting with the weight change of Tommy getting out of bed.

He’s bleary-eyed as he lifts his head, a questioning sound leaving his throat before he’s even opened his mouth, trying to figure out why his sleep is being interrupted when he’s still so tired.

Tommy shushes him and leans down, kisses above his eyebrow—his birthmark, his favorite spot to kiss soft like this.

Buck looks up at him, his mouth trying to form the word stay.

Tommy kisses his forehead again and says, “Go back to bed, sweetheart.”

And Buck is tempted to sink back into the warm sheets and let sleep take him again because his body is sore and he’s bone-tired and weary after a tough shift yesterday, but then he hears the shower start up and remembers that Tommy switched shifts with someone from another shift so they could go to their kid’s dance recital today.

So he rolls over and sits up, stretching out his arms and his neck and his back, getting some of the kinks out before he drags himself out of bed with a groan.

He trudges downstairs to the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. He shakes the fog from his brain as he blinks at the machine, watching it sputter to life.

He pours himself a cup when it’s done and pours one for Tommy too, who he knows will be out of the bathroom soon.

He sips coffee from his mug, taking stock of what fruit they have left and what breakfast proteins they have in the fridge as he formulates a plan for breakfast.

He’s cutting up some bananas so he can make a Bananas Foster topping for pancakes when he hears Tommy coming down the stairs.

He smiles when Tommy slides up behind him, warm from the shower and smelling like Buck’s shampoo.

“Morning,” Tommy says, wrapping his arm around his waist, leaning his full weight against him, his chin tucked over Buck’s shoulder as he yawns into his neck.

“Good morning,” Buck says, turning his head to press a kiss to Tommy’s temple.

“Thought I told you to go back to sleep,” Tommy says, voice light and teasing as his hand travels across Buck’s chest to rest on his shoulder, effectively wrapping Buck up in him, making him feel held and warm and too many emotions for this early in the morning.

“You know I don't always like following orders,” Buck says, smirking as he returns to cutting up the bananas in front of him.

“Yeah, when you’re being a brat,” Tommy says, a fond sort of exasperation creeping into his voice. He nuzzles into Buck’s neck, his nose pressed against the bolt of his jaw.

“I didn't want you to have to eat breakfast alone,” Buck admits after a second, utterly incapable of being insincere when Tommy has him in his arms like this, when he keeps him close and just doesn't let go.

It’s one of his favorite things about being with Tommy, how when they’re alone together, Tommy always wants him pressed right up against him, no matter what they’re doing—whether it’s watching TV or cooking or doing laundry, he just always wants Buck close to him.

It was a surprising thing to learn about Tommy—how clingy he actually is. He seemed more aloof when they first met, but once he let Buck in, the shift was pretty quick. And Buck is absolutely not going to complain about that, not when he gets to have this whenever he wants.

He leans back into Tommy’s embrace when he finishes prepping the bananas, letting the warmth of Tommy’s body seep into him, letting his hands drift along Tommy’s arms around him, his fingers tracing up and down his skin.

“You’re sweet,” Tommy whispers, his lips pressing soft, deliberate kisses to Buck’s neck.

Buck would normally be more than content to stay here, wrapped up as he is—to turn his head and brush his nose against Tommy’s before their lips touch, to bring his hand up and curl his fingers into Tommy’s hair to keep him where he wants him, to kiss him and kiss him and kiss him like there’s nothing else he’d rather be doing, to kiss him until his mouth is sore and red and the air around them is warmed through with the heat of their kisses—but they’re on a tight schedule this morning with only another hour or so before Tommy has to leave.

So even as he basks in the quiet comfort of this moment, he asks, “You gonna let me make you breakfast?”

Tommy’s arms tighten around him, his mouth pressing firmer to the junction of his neck and shoulder. “In a minute,” he murmurs.

Buck hums in response, closing his eyes. He’s got no place to be but right here.

—

also posted on ao3!

#bucktommy #911 fic #911 abc #evan buckley #buck x tommy #janai.doc

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mental-ch-illness · 4 months ago

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pro tip for recovering addicts

TW: Addiction, Alcohol dependency

as someone currently working through a moderate addiction to alcohol, there is something that actually really has helped me recently: replacement and going nuclear.

i would like to say that this method is not fool proof, and it will not work for people who have not completely accepted their addiction or have severe addiction. also, i am only dealing with alcohol dependency, so this may not work for others. even if you are struggling with alcohol, this might not work for you, but here's something that has helped me.

going nuclear, so don't even bother with trying to convince yourself it's going to be just one sip or one night. if you didn't trust yourself earlier that day, you probably shouldn't trust yourself now. so i've been doing the Most™ and simply applying brute force against myself. here's what i've been doing.

bought myself a timer lock. i put my alcohol in a cabinet and then use the lock on the cabinet. that way i have to wait to get to it. i can have a drink and then put it back and reset the lock. this prevents me from going back for more before the effects actually kick in. usually i make it a few hours. this method is great if you have a problems with delayed gratification because you can watch the numbers go down. also, you can set it to a longer periods of time to prevent day drinking. it's pretty easy, so you can set it up during those periods of clarity and yet it still holds up once the urges start up again.

i now leave my driver's license in the lock box of my car whenever i go to the store. this helps as i typically go to the store telling myself i won't buy alcohol. then when i'm actually passing by that aisle i find myself picking up some bottles and convincing myself it will be fine. it's not fine. just like above, take advantage of those moments of clarity and lock up your ID.

i've been deliberately diluting my alcohol by making premade mixed drinks. a go too of mine is measuring out three parts fruit juice and one part vodka (so it should be... like... 8% ABV, but don't quote me on that). i typically just mix it into an already emptied bottle of fruit juice. that way, instead of just doing shots of straight vodka, i am forced to actually drink a whole cocktail. there's only so much my stomach can hold, so it forces me to slow down.

i started taking medication to help curb addiction urges. currently, i am on a daily dose of naltrexone (as a pill) to help curb the urge to drink. it's not a cure all, but it does provide a sort of speed bump. not just with alcohol. i've sometimes found myself questioning impulse purchases and the like much more often. there are other medications that can help, so it might help to talk to your doctor.

here's another thing that isn't really 'nuclear', but has helped: i got a snow cone machine... just a tiny one i found on clearance. whenever i got the urge to drink, i'd make a snow cone. i didn't think it would work as well as it has, but i think the dopamine hit from that does help to curb things.

not everyone can quit cold turkey, but everyone should do their best to outsmart their addiction when they can. you'll fuck up, but that doesn't mean that you are a fuck up. it's gonna be okay. maybe not today, or tomorrow, or the next day, but it will be one day.

#advice #actually addicted #addiction #tw addiction #tw alcohol #tw drinking

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foreverromanticising · 2 months ago

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renegade | ln4

(6) the sun, the sea, and lando were all you thought you needed until you uncover prospects of home?

lando norris x fem!reader | 3k words | a maybe perfect summer with lando norris

(also pls if u want to send any notes about this series (or requests outside of this series) i would LOVE to chat with yous all so pls send anything)

masterlist<3

You felt lighter every time you woke up in Lando’s bed, you couldn’t help the smile that fought its way onto your face every time you remembered you were still there - he still wanted you there. Sure, you’d had your - albeit brief - moment of panic and had tried to bolt, with the plan of heading to the nearest hostel you could find but Lando had made it incredibly clear he would much rather spend his holiday waking up beside you.

Truly, you weren’t sure of the last time you had felt relaxation to this degree. Your time travelling helped you find some peace but you had to be on constant alert, especially considering you were on your own pretty much everyday. But with Lando almost glued to your hip, he allowed you to take that deep breath that you needed. You had been travelling, but he was vacationing - his entire goal for his trip was to relax.

Early mornings were a rarity, you were beginning to learn, as late nights sinking more drinks than you could count were how Lando and his friends loved to spend their time. You couldn’t complain, it was how you had met Lando after all. But, after the first week, you learned to truly appreciate an early morning whenever you could grab one.

You slipped out from Lando’s hold that morning and padded your bare feet towards the kitchen with the intention of making some coffee and breakfast to take back up to him. The quiet hum of the coffee machine and the faint chirping of cicadas filled the silence of the kitchen as you sliced various different kinds of fruit onto a platter of sorts.

However, as you had come to learn happened fairly often when living with a handful of men, the quiet within the kitchen was soon disturbed when you heard the bounding of footsteps down the stairs.

“I think we get the yacht today.”

“Just phone him, Lando, you know he’ll let you.”

“You really should just get your own boat, mate, would make this so much easier for us every year.”

The conversation you were totally not eavesdropping on came to a halt once everyone stepped foot into the kitchen, catching sight of you. Lando made a beeline for you, his eyes catching his shirt that draped over your frame as he pressed a kiss to your temple and whispered a ‘good morning’ so quietly that his friends couldn’t pick up on it.

“I was in the middle of making breakfast, there should be enough for everyone, I think,” You spun around, trying to analyse how much food you had laid out compared to what was in the fridge and cupboards as you hadn’t planned for everyone else to be awake but you didn’t want to exclude anyone either. “Sorry if there’s not, ‘m just not used to everyone being awake this early so I wasn’t thinking.”

“This is more than enough, don’t worry about it,” Then, another kiss pressed to your forehead before Lando skirted around your body, grabbing a strawberry and popping it into his mouth. “Thank you, baby.”

“Focus, Lando, back to the yacht.” Keegan, one of Lando’s friends, clapped his hands together to grab Lando’s attention once again.

“We’re up early enough that we could make it work.” Max chimed in, gaining a nod of agreement from Keegan - who was clearly happy someone was on his side.

“I dunno, there’s a farmers’ market in town today,” Lando caught the way the side of your lips turned up, a hint of a grin teasing him as you couldn’t contain your happiness for a few days ago you had very briefly mentioned a farmers’ market that had piqued your interest. “Thought that could be kinda fun.”

“Yeah ‘cause the Greek farmers want us ploughing through their market,” Keegan rolled his eyes and gestured to the group standing there, knowing they weren’t exactly the target demographic for the market. “Like, the fuck do we know about produce and shit?”

“It’s more than produce, don’t be a dick,” Lando rolled his eyes at his friend’s ignorance, hoping he would understand that, sure, he didn’t really want to spend his day at a farmers’ market but you did so he was more than happy to take you there. “It’s, like, honey and jams and shit.”

“Just phone Carlos and sort out the yacht, jeez.” Keegan scoffed and made his way to stand beside you, pouring himself a coffee whilst Lando stood facing you and mouthed an ‘I’m sorry’ your way. He was truly sorry for he couldn’t control his friends’ feelings, despite how much he really would like to.

“Who’s Carlos?” You poured Lando a coffee just the way he liked it, black and over ice, then handed it over to him once he took a seat at the kitchen island. You tried to ignore the brief bickering between Lando and Keegan, trying to push away the feeling that gnawed at you which told you you were the reason for it, and instead focused on the way Lando’s curls were still sleep mussed.

“Just a friend of mine.” Lando shrugged, trying to wave off your question as he really didn’t want to unpack everything in that moment.

“Just a friend who owns a yacht?” You pressed, out of nothing but curiosity and wanting to get to know Lando a little bit better.

“Yeah, only keep him around because it comes in handy during summer,” He teased and you laughed along though he could never truly mean it, not when it came to Carlos. “So, I woke up this morning and you weren’t there, quite the shock.”

“I know, I wanted to bring you breakfast in bed.” You smiled and leaned over the edge of the counter to get nearer to Lando as his hand drifted from his coffee to your face, allowing you to lean into his touch.

“Yeah, don’t do that again,” His hand made its way from cupping your cheek to holding your chin between his finger and thumb, pulling you into his lips for a kiss. “Hate waking up without you there, you take away my favourite part of the day.”

“I’ll remember that for next time.” You nodded and leaned back in to Lando, his early morning kisses quick but warm against you for he knew you didn’t want anything more when his friends were littered around you.

“The yacht, Lando!” Max shouted to break through to both you and Lando, forcing both of you apart with lingering smiles on both of your faces.

“Go get ready, pretty,” Lando stood up from the island in an attempt to shut Max up, his hand finding its way to your ass to give it a light tap in the direction of your bedroom. “I need to make some calls before my friends have heart attacks.”

You headed back into the bedroom and began trying to piece together something to wear from your minuscule collection of clothing. What were you even expected to wear on a yacht? You had realised that you and Lando had come from entirely different worlds rather early on in your time knowing him.

It wasn’t a huge factor between you and Lando, you noticed it but you hardly ever thought about it until moments like this one; a moment when Lando acted like charting a private yacht for the day was the most normal thing for anyone to do on their holiday. So, whilst you usually weren’t one for particularly caring that deeply about your appearance, you suddenly found yourself panicked in a sense. You didn’t want to wear the wrong thing around the wrong people and embarrass Lando.

This was his world, after all, and he was simply letting you orbit around it for a while.

“Looks like a bomb went off in here.” Lando stopped dead in his tracks once he saw the state his bedroom was in with every article of your clothing strewed across the place as you simply looked down on them, trying to mentally configure an image of an outfit in your head.

“What am I supposed to wear?” You hummed in what could only be described as a feeling defeated as Lando came to stand behind you, his arms snaking their way around your waist as chin came to rest on your shoulder.

“What’d you mean?” He could tell your mood was certainly deflated however he couldn’t pinpoint why - he couldn’t understand the small fluster you had worked yourself into over an outfit. He wasn’t sure he had ever put this much thought into an outfit before, especially not when he was on holiday.

“I’ve never been on a yacht, I don’t wanna look stupid.” You knew it was silly and you knew Lando thought so too from the way he scoffed at your words.

“You couldn’t ever look stupid, no matter what you wear.” His lips attached to your neck, beginning an assault along your skin in a futile attempt at making you feel better, at easing any anxieties you may have had. Truly, Lando couldn’t have cared less about what you wore and he wasn’t sure anyone else who would be there would care either.

You sighed at the lack of any advice from Lando, though you weren’t sure what you had been expecting anyway. It wasn’t the outfit itself that was bugging you, rather the thought of feeling out of place among Lando’s friends whilst they were all in their element.

“Wear the red bikini, baby, it’s only casual” Lando stepped away from you and grabbed the red bikini he adored so dearly before handing it to you; a smirk took over his face, one that was often found whenever that bikini covered your body. “I know Carlos’ll like it too, trust me.”

With a kiss to your cheek and what you thought were words of advice, you trusted Lando and wore the bikini he recommended, tugging on some denim shorts and one of Lando’s graphic tees atop of it. But, what you should’ve known was that you should never trust Lando on fashion advice, not under any circumstance - no matter how quickly he turns you to melted butter underneath his touch, he has no idea what he was talking about - for as soon as you stepped one foot onto the yacht, you realised how sorely mistaken you were for ever confiding in him.

Your definition of casual was running Tesco in your pyjamas with your friends for last minute groceries or a cheap bottle of wine, whereas Lando’s definition of casual was a packed yacht party. There were people everywhere, champagne glasses floating between everyone, whilst waiters passed around the tiniest dishes of food you had ever seen. For a moment, you felt like turning on your heel and trekking on foot back to the villa if it wasn’t for Lando’s hand latching onto yours and leading you through the crowd.

Every girl you looked at was in a sundress of some sort whilst you mentally cursed yourself for actively choosing to dress like a toddler of sorts, choosing comfort over style when you knew that you had a sundress or two stuffed down the bottom of your backpack. You should’ve known this was going to be anything but relaxed and normal, because nothing Lando had showed you thus far had been anywhere near what you knew as normal but you bit your tongue and smiled whilst Lando paraded you around his friends.

“Carlos,” Carlos smiled with a glint in his eye as he held out his hand to you, you weren’t sure why he looked so pleased - you were only introducing yourself to one another. “Heard a lot about you from that one, mija.”

“Oh?” Your head spun around to Lando, who immediately spun around to speak to another one of his friends - Charles, who you only managed to speak a few words to. “Good things I hope?” The idea that Lando was speaking about you to his friends who hadn’t yet met you made your stomach turn; Carlos would already have a perception of you in his mind that you had no control over and you could only hope it was a positive one, an image that you would be proud of.

“Hm, he speaks very highly of you, that is for sure,” Carlos nodded his head as he watched the cogs of anxiety turn in your mind. “You have a lot of goals, very ambitious - headstrong.”

“I mean, I guess so,” You shrugged your shoulders, not sure that you would describe yourself in the same way but perhaps you couldn’t see these traits for looking directly at them. Though, you couldn’t deny the flutter in your stomach at hearing this was how Lando spoke of you even when you weren’t there. “I just want to travel, see the world, not much more than anyone else.”

“You worked hard to get here, don’t forget that.” Carlos quickly zipped his mouth, taking a sip of champagne to do so, as Lando soon reappeared and wrapped his arm around your waist.

“You wanna take a swim?” Whilst you may have been dressed like a toddler, Lando was always one to act more similarly to one. He didn’t have much interest in the party around him, too many snobs who all thought they knew him, but he did have interest in you. You knew him. “The water’s so clear, I know you want to.”

“Oh, I dunno,” You winced at the thought of creating a splash among the rather peaceful party that surrounded you both, not wanting to dare step a toe out of line in a world that certain wasn’t yours. “I don’t think I wanna get my hair wet.”

“I’ve got one of your hair ties.” He quickly slipped one of your hair ties off of his wrist and handed it to you, unbeknownst to you that he even had it in the first place.

“Maybe later, Lan.”

You couldn’t lie to yourself and say your heart didn’t swell when he offered you a hair tie, the mere thought of him simply considering you was enough to make you swoon because he knew you. He knew how much you admired a clear sea, a sea so clear you could watch the fish swim beneath you without needing any goggles, and he simultaneously knew that you liked to tie your hair back when you were in the sea - hating how the salt water affected your hair, though he claimed he loved it.

You were taken out of your own head when Charles and his girlfriend - Alexandra - began walking over to you, instinctively you backed yourself into Lando’s touch - hoping he could protect you. You weren’t sure what you needed protecting from, maybe your own fears simply manifesting into existence as Charles’ girlfriend was dressed to the nines, glitter and gems accenting her beauty whilst you were still conscious of the fact you were dressed like a toddler in the summer.

“Jolie fille, you are just as gorgeous as Lando said.” Alexandra smiled brightly in front of you, her words relaxing you.

“Ah, Alex, you’re out to embarrass me.” Lando tutted at her words though he didn’t deny them.

“Someone has to tell her, I’m sure you haven’t done it enough,” Alexandra then grabbed your hands, pulling you away from Lando. “Let me steal her away for a moment or two, would you, Lando?”

Lando simply rolled his eyes and let you be led away by Alexandra, purely because you were no longer in his reach - he hadn’t quite thought about the conversations that would ensue between both of you.

“So, Lando’s been treating you nicely?” She sat down in one of the daybeds and invited you to join her, two glasses of champagne in each of her hands for both of you.

“Yeah, he’s been nothing but a dream - this whole trip has been a dream.”

“It’s a nice life, letting them whisk you away, treat you like a princess,” Alexandra hummed in agreement at your words as she took a sip of her drink. “It’s even better in Monaco, more homely, domestic.”

“Monaco?” You questioned, not entirely sure what she meant by that. You were unsure if you had missed out on a conversation or if she was speaking about something you simply hadn’t heard before.

“Monaco? Y’know, when we all go home, and summer break’s over?” She furrowed her brows in confusion, a look covering her face that matched lost look on yours. “Are you- sorry, are you not going back to Monaco with Lando next week? I’m so sorry, I had no idea.”

“No, it’s okay - I don’t really know what’s happening next week, we haven’t really spoken about it,” You let out a nervous laugh, not sure of what to say as you hadn’t paid much thought to what would happen when Lando’s trip was over, your travelling was a mere extension of his holiday. “I don’t know anything about Monaco either, are they heading there after Greece?”

“Well, yes, before they all have to go back to work - they like to get at least a few days back home.”

“Home?” Again, you were unable to hide the confusion that warped your face, now feeling more lost than ever.

“Yes, they’ll take a jet back to Monaco for a few more days of relaxation.”

“I thought Lando lived back in the UK,” Truthfully, Lando hadn’t ever told you where he resided outside of his villa during the summer but you had merely presumed due to his British accent. The look of shock on Alexandra’s face scared you ever so slightly but you chose to push that worrying feeling away. “I guess that’s on me, we haven’t really spoken about it.”

“Just know, I would love if you came with us - it’s always nice to have a few more girls around when things get busy for them.” Alexandra flashed you that sweet smile of hers yet again, squeezing your hand so you knew how heartfelt her words were whilst you tried to decipher what exactly she meant - though you figured a yacht party wasn’t exactly the right place to unpack those feelings of confusion.

#formula one #formula 1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris blurb #f1 #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x you #lando norris fluff

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venusheartsyou2 · 5 days ago

Text

like a prayer | the winter soldier

summary: you comfort bucky after a recurring nightmare.

pairing: bucky barnes x gn!reader

TWs: graphic depictions of violence and nightmares. please do not read if you feel uncomfortable!

warnings: one bed trope, ANGST, hurt/comfort, set post captain america: the winter soldier, bad google translated russian, no use of y/n.

wc: 1.9K

“Just our fucking luck.”

It had been a very long day.

The Avengers had sent you and Bucky on a short undercover mission to a small country in Europe. There had been strings of recent missions to clean up HYDRA’s final ties after Bucky had freed himself from HYDRA’s grasp. It was interesting – for Bucky to be so willing to go out into the battlefield so soon after finally liberating himself from his mind control, or at least liberating himself as much as he could. It wasn’t too long ago when he was only known as ‘soldat’. To when he was nothing more than a machine. You don’t understand, but you also don’t question.

The day was a bust. No targets you and Bucky had meant to tail had showed up, which had left the two of you without a mission – just sitting ducks. The whole time you and Bucky were just left in each other’s presence. Which wasn’t necessarily a problem. Bucky isn’t.. bad. Just quiet. Very, very quiet.

So, it’s just your fucking luck that when you go to your assigned room, to where you can finally rest, that there’s one blaring problem: there’s only one bed. Maybe there was a problem in scheduling, perhaps things were lost in translation. Bucky hasn’t commented on the sleeping situation. He just stares. Bucky’s tired, it’s written in his expression.

“Я могу— [I can—].” Bucky cuts himself off quickly, realizing he’s not speaking in his mother tongue.

“I can sleep on the floor.” Bucky suggests, his tone low and serious.

“No—,” You immediately decline, “It’s fine, Bucky.” The bottom of your feet felt the harsh, cold floor. No way you’d let Bucky take the fall for you.

“I can handle it—” Bucky tries to bargain.

“The floor is too cold. It’s fine, really.” You assert.

“I’m used to it.” Bucky responds, his voice filled with a familiar sense of dreariness. He wants to add that the floors at HYDRA were even colder, fueled with an even harsher bite, but a part of him hates the way your eyes fill with pity.

“I don’t feel uncomfortable sleeping in the same bed, if that’s what you’re worried about, Bucky,” You reassure. “Let me know if you’re feeling uncomfortable, yeah?” You try to reason to Bucky, hoping he’ll just come around to the idea of sharing the bed.

Bucky nods. “Okay. Sounds good.”

You and Bucky had gotten ready for bed. The constant switching in-and-out of the bathroom had finally ended, and the two of you could finally get some rest. Hopefully tomorrow will be more fruitful than today.

As the two of you had finally laid in bed, it was silent. Which isn’t rare between the two of you. At least the silence isn't excruciating. If anything, it was comfortable. Familiar.

“Goodnight, Bucky.” You attempt at being cordial.

After a brief period of silence, Bucky finally responds. “Night.”

You let out a tired sigh, hoping sleep will come easy.

Throughout the night, Bucky was as stiff as a statue. It worried you a little bit, but as long as you heard breathing, you didn’t freak. His metal arm was piercing cold, which was jarring against the hot warmth of the blanket and your two bodies. His arm whirred mechanically as he breathed, acting as some sort of strange lullaby. Not that you were sleeping.

It took everything in you to not adjust how you were positioned in bed. Your leg ached, begging for some sort of adjustment. Even still, you didn’t want to wake Bucky, as his tired face and tired eyes lingered in your mind. The feeling of discomfort will only stay for tonight. The thought of returning back to your personal bed, or at least not having to share a bed acts as your incentive to push through the pain.

Sleep takes you soon after. Your chest rises and falls smoothly.

His calves burned, every fiber in his muscles felt like it was going to rip. He ran as fast as he could, only seeing the green of the forest ahead of him. Leaves brushed past his body, as sticks and stones dug into his calloused feet. The black mask on his face dug into his skin. It was suffocating.

The soldier fell to his knees. The silence that surrounded him was different. The silence in the facility was oppressive and hazardous. The silence that roamed in the forest was nearly therapeutic. If only he could take this fucking mask off. His metal hand clawed at his face, nearly drawing blood from how raw his skin was becoming.

The mask fell off with an animalistic rip. The soldier gasped, breathing as if it was his first time. The crisp air coated his tongue, then his throat, filling the soldier with a sensation he hadn’t felt for a long time. Rain started to sprinkle and fall against his bare skin. The cool water fell against his burning back. The misty sky felt like an embrace. The soldier digs his sharp nails into the wet mud, as if it were an anchor. The fresh outdoors felt like a promise at freedom. Maybe soon he could see his father, though his father’s face was fragmented and unfamiliar in the soldier’s mind. Maybe soon he could see the boy he loved, the one who he had left back home. The soldier could nearly smile.

It was until after that he had heard the snap of a twig behind him. The soldier’s head turned slowly to see his commanders standing behind him. A sea of semi-automatic rifles and faces consumed with fury surrounded him.

The soldier knew when he was defeated. He blinks away the tears that burn his eyes. It felt like he was in quicksand. The more he tried to push his way out, the faster the sand consumed him.

There’s yelling. Russian words fly around him, the intense vowels making his heartbeat stutter. A loud bang fires. It feels like a pinch at first. Then, the burning sensation fills up his entire leg. The soldier looks down to see his leg bleeding out. The bullet in his upper thigh hadn’t pierced straight through. The shrapnel lingered, and so did the intense, burning pain.

The soldier fell face first in the grass, which was coated in the morning dew. His loud screams permeated throughout the entire forest. The soldier cried out in pain while the HYDRA troops dragged his body back to the facility. As his face dragged against the rugged floor of the forest, his face was being coated in the mud and blood. The wounded soldier could only think of how death would be better than this. At least then he would be able to see his mother.

If only he hadn’t stopped to take off his mask. If only he had left sooner. If only he was faster. If only he—

“Bucky!” Your frantic shout woke him up. Bucky hadn’t noticed how sweaty he had become, nor the tears that were begging to fall free from his eyes. His chest is heavy as he regains composure.

“Hey, you’re okay,” You try to bring Bucky back to reality, “You’re okay. You’re with me.” You bring your hands to Bucky’s face, after hesitating.

Bucky is silent, and he isn’t quick enough to stop your hands from cupping his face. As your fingers spilled onto Bucky’s throat, you felt the intense pounding of his heart against his skin. Bucky’s stare is different. It’s vulnerable, scared — different than his usual soullessness.

You search the bedside table frantically for water. You don’t want to lose your grasp on Bucky, but you only do so for a brief moment, to grab the unopened water bottle that was conveniently stashed away.

“Here. Drink this, Bucky.” you command slowly, making sure your tone was dripping with compassion. You open the plastic water bottle, carefully cracking it open. Handing it to Bucky, Bucky hesitates before grabbing the water bottle. He drinks the water with loud and desperate gulps. He nearly finishes the entire bottle.

You grab the bottle from Bucky as he finishes drinking. Your eyebrows furrow as you meticulously monitor Bucky.

There’s a long, nauseating period of silence.

Tears fall down Bucky’s rough cheek as he quietly sobs. His large fists ball up towards his eyes. His frame shakes as he breathes tremulously. He cries, his body small and coiled up. He doesn’t take up enough space when he cries. He can’t not, as he wasn’t allowed to before.

Bucky speaks up for the first time since he woke up. “It’s the same dream.”

Your frown is never-ending. It tore you to see Bucky like this. Bucky can’t even get his words out correctly, his syllables are broken by his rough hiccups.

“I tried to leave once.” Bucky continues, even without a response from you.

“You called out for your mom.” You mention.

Bucky looks up at you, his eyes red and puffy.

“Didn’t know I did that.” Bucky mumbles. It’s all he says.

“She died long ago. Forgot when.” Bucky decides to elaborate, his memory still fuzzy due to HYDRA intervention. You don’t push for more. You can’t even bear to hear more.

“You’re not there anymore. You’re safe now.” You remind Bucky. There’s nothing more you want to see than Bucky at peace. Even if it’s just for a small moment in time.

“I tried to leave. They didn’t let me.” Bucky admits, the words falling out of his mouth.

The thought of it haunts you. The thoughts of what Bucky went through during his decades at HYDRA haunts you, as the possibilities were endless. It made the pit in your stomach grow more intense.

“You don’t have to tell me.” You tell Bucky. Bucky looks at you, his eyes tired, yet again. He nods slowly.

You don’t know how Bucky would feel about it, but the idea of holding him loitered in your mind.

“Can I.. hug you, Bucky?” You ask, your voice small and pathetic.

Bucky’s eyebrows furrow, reacting to your proposition. He eventually nods, and embraces your touch. The shoulders sink as his body falls against yours. He clings to you. Before, when he would have these nightmares, he would wake up to an empty, cold bed; which was almost as excruciating as the nightmares themselves. At least now, he has someone compassionate enough to share the burden of his tortured psyche.

You pull back eventually, the cold air filling in the spaces between your warm bodies.

“I’m sorry. It really must’ve been horrible.” You apologize to Bucky, not really sure what for.

Bucky breathes and nods. He slowly lays back down in the bed, hoping his next sleep will be his last one for the night.

After a beat, Bucky’s anxious voice breaks through the silence.

“Can you.. hold me, while I sleep?” Bucky asks, his voice tinged with an ounce of embarrassment.

“Of course.” You answer, with no hesitation.

Your arm wraps around a tortured Bucky, and your breaths are easy against him. Soon, you and Bucky’s breathing are one in the same. Bucky feels more at ease, with someone who cares for him. He had a rock to ground himself on. If the scary men in scrubs and suits come back to him in his dreams, at least he has your presence to rely on.

“I’m here. You’re okay.” You mumble softly against Bucky’s back. If anything, your desire to purge HYDRA’s existence only grew stronger. You would make sure that tomorrow would be better than before, and that Bucky could disassociate himself with his branding as soon as he could.

Your fingers circle rhythmically against Bucky’s fleshy hand. Bucky takes in one last deep breath as sleep takes him back again. At least now, he feels calmer.

He feels nearly human.

#marvel #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #marvel fic #the winter soldier #winter soldier #bucky barnes x you #angst #marvel angst #hurt/comfort #one bed trope #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #the winter solider x reader #thunderbolts x reader #im sorry in advance

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