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#I've shipped these two since day one
kaiiscottage · 3 months
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꒰ Yuuri’s blue prince ♡ ꒱
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bluehairperson · 1 year
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He doesn't have this problem with Valerius.
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chexie · 1 month
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"Hey Chexie why is everyone drawing McQueen and McKing making out"
It's me it's my fault. Please Read it and leave me hate comments. I need it for my collage.
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vampthropologist · 4 months
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New selfship! I call them HarV (Harvey/Harv/V) - ref img
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sapphire-weapon · 9 months
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imagine being so disconnected from RE fandom that you think that Leon only became popular starting with RE2make
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burinazar · 5 months
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It's a bit funny that to parts of my circles I'm 'the fandom one'/'the fanfic one'/'the shipping one' as the person they know most prominently into such things
because as much as i love writing my fics and shipping my ships my interest in both of those things is, I think, very narrow and specific compared to most people who are into them? due to my habits being like. very particular
#i think some ppl think of me as ahh my buddy who is always reading fanfic and i'm like. look. i would LIKE to be that. but i'm not#it's comically difficult to get me to sit down and read a new fanfic. for no discernable reason#the fandoms i like to read for don't even have big fic scenes but i've still checked out such a narrow portion of them#(and these fandoms are like. just a few. leaving aside MiA's dead tag. LOGH + T&B + Vorkosigan + ...anything else here would be a lie)#(Queen's Thief + Temeraire + TMA are on the backburner rn for reading fic but they were faves before yet i read SO little of what existed)#(everything else i just check out very occasionally or when directly recc'd)#i think mmmaaaybe 'my buddy who reads tons of fic' would be the case if there were new fics about the sages coming out every day#they're sort of a unique hyperfixation for me lol#but there are NOT. instead there are ((checks))#four (4) english language belavue fics on AO3 that are not by me#AND two of them i would say do not actually have any ship content and were likely just tagged that to be safe#as far as non ship content there are ((checks again)) 21 English language fics tagged with Belaf and I wrote 13 of them ........#(and 17 for Vueko and i wrote 10. two of the others barely mention her and shouldn’t be tagged lol) …guys i'm starving............#ok you read to the bottom of the tags you get to hear a selfish wish#i kind of hope that someday...someone will...write some fic about the sages either because of me or for me#gen or ship it doesnt matter#but this kind of thing usually happens in AO3 exchanges though and there aren't ones in this fandom because the fic scene is so miniscule#i'm literally running one right now off AO3 but have a feeling it will end up being mostly art and also didn't put myself in as a requester#since the people participating have largely made stuff for me as gifts before and i have a glut of lovely work from them#and again that exchange will mostly end up being art i feel and not fic. but some other time... i still wish ... more fic... pleae..plaeabs#there are very specific reasons i don't want to host an MiA fic exchange through AO3. i can guess the kind of stuff some people will reques#(the kind of stuff that's already in the tag.) and it's not stuff i feel like moderating an exchange involving >_> so i won't#but god.. ... ..... someday......i hope....there can be an exchange where i ask for somethinga bout these people.............
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lieutenantselnia · 21 days
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I've been thinking about whether my way of naming my self-inserts might be a bit inconvenient ... to clear it up:
Selina with an i - My modern day s/i that I ship with Doofenshmirtz, she's probably the closest to my actual self, though I still take creative liberties in some aspects.
Selena with an e - My PotC s/i, I have two different AUs for her to ship her with both Barbossa and Davy Jones. She's a bit more like an oc, but I still also see her as a self-insert.
My original thought was to give them slightly different names, so I won't always have to mention about which universe I'm currently referring to. Since they're all based on the same "template" character though (which is just ... me I guess😂), I didn't want to give them entirely different names, plus while I didn't want to use my actual first name anymore, I still wanted a name that I can identify with. In my head it makes total sense, but I can see that this may also be a bit confusing😅
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backlogbooks · 5 months
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Petsitting money came in so i ordered my kobo ereader! I'm so excited! I think this'll actually let me read the books on my Libby tbr, and it'll be nice to be able to take multiple books with me without worrying about space.
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m0e-ru · 11 months
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wooga booga
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fiercynn · 2 months
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okay, if you have ever made or reblogged a “hold your nose and vote for biden” post, this is for you.
here’s the fucking thing about these kinds of posts. i've been seeing them since i first returned to tumblr in, I think, late 2022? they've certainly increased in frequency since october 7, but they were there before too, ready to counter any kind of opposition to biden that has cropped up. many of them are not just trying to educate people about what positive things biden has done, which, like, at least I can understand the motivation behind those ones? but so many of them are directly in response to people criticizing biden, and their only real point is “sure you’re upset at this thing biden did, but have you considered the election?” starting YEARS before the next presidential election, mind you.
and october 7 only made that clearer. i don’t think it had been a week before i saw these posts cropping up. can you not see how fucking ghoulish that is? to look at the rightful pain and anger of those whose relatives and communities are being slaughtered with active american support, to respond to one of the few pieces of agency most americans have in influencing what their governments do – their vote – by saying “yes but trump would be worse.” as if the primary people you’re lecturing – palestinians, muslims, arabs, black people, indigenous people, disabled people, other marginalized people – don’t remember exactly how bad it was under trump!
and even if you think not voting is an empty gesture – something i, who studied political science at a mainstream american lib college, who has worked as a field organizer on a previous democratic presidential campaign and for several policy campaigns, who currently works in public policy in america, used to believe, but have absolutely changed my mind on – what is in no way an empty gesture is saying publicly that you will not vote for someone. the arguments people usually have about why simply not voting is bad are that you can’t tell why someone is not voting, so it is as likely to be apathy or disenfranchisement as it is a political statement. but saying publicly that you will not vote for someone, and why you will not vote for them, absolutely is a political statement, and potentially a powerful one! but you choose to negate and/or ignore that by trotting out the “lesser of two evils” bullshit.
and then there’s the whole “yes but people will DIE under trump”. PEOPLE ARE DYING NOW. even if you’re fucking racist and have decided that palestinian lives don’t count, have you forgotten biden’s ongoing covid minimalism and dismantling of the CDC’s covid research and prevention infrastructure? have you forgotten his increase in spending for law enforcement scant years after the murder of george floyd and his administration's surveillance of protesters, including cop city protesters? have you forgotten his recent ramp-up in deportations of undocumented immigrants, including the active continuation of many trump-era policies?
maybe you have forgotten all those things and do purport to care about palestinians, but you just think that biden is doing his best to influence netanyahu and is getting nowhere! but then you must have forgotten all of the things that biden and his administration themselves have done to further this fucking genocide, including:
continuing to send arms to israel
putting together a military task force within days of yemen’s red sea blockade and attacking yemeni ships
bombing yemen
bombing syria
bombing iraq
vetoing three ceasefire resolutions at the united nations
testifying to defend israel and its genocide and occupation at the international court of justice
refusing to rescue palestinian-americans stuck in gaza
halting funding to the united nations relief and works agency for palestinian refugees (UNRWA) based on israeli claims that 12 of UNRWA’s over 30,000 staff were hamas agents, even though u.s. intelligence has not been able to independently verify this
lying that he’s personally seen photos of babies beheaded by hamas when he hadn’t because they didn’t exist (and even when his own staff cautioned him that reports of beheaded babies may not be credible)
questioning the number of palestinian deaths reported by the gaza ministry of health (when even israel has not questioned them, since they are in fact proud of those numbers)
perpetuating lies about hamas having committed the attack on al-aqsa hospital
questioning united nations reports of adults and children raped by israeli soldiers while claiming to have proof (that no one else has seen) of hamas doing the same
honestly so many more things that i can’t remember them all but others feel free to add
or maybe you haven’t forgotten any of that, and think that you’re still justified in lecturing people about why they should vote for biden, because you genuinely believe trump would still be worse. if that is the case, you have still failed to see that by saying you will vote for biden no matter what, you are part of the problem of biden continuing to act like this. because biden is counting on fear of trump to win him this next election no matter what else he does. despite his appalling polling numbers, despite the knowledge that he is losing the palestinian-american vote, the arab-american vote, the muslim-american vote, the black american vote, the youth vote – despite all of that, he is secure in the idea that he will still win because he is better than trump. can you not see how that allows him to act without impunity? how it becomes increasingly impossible for his base to influence what he’s doing if he thinks that they will be with him no matter what? this is how you make yourself complicit to biden’s actions, by not affording anyone even the slightest power to hold him accountable for anything.
and in most cases, the “hold your nose and vote for biden” thing is the response of people who aren’t even being instructed by others not to vote for biden. it is their response to people saying they themselves are choosing not to vote for biden. fucking ghoulish.
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scoonsalicious · 2 months
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Like A Fairy Tale
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Dating Bucky Barnes had been like living a fairy tale, but as he distances himself from you and your relationship, you come to the realization that maybe fairy tales aren't meant to come true.
Warnings: Language to make Steve blush, mentions of alcohol use, implied sex, angst with a happy ending.
Word Count: 3.4k This is my very first posted fic, and I am very nervous but I hope you like it! If I've missed any warnings, please tell me so I can add them. Much love and thanks to my bestie @jmeelee for indulging my obsession and dropping everything to read this when I sent it to her <3 Please pardon any spelling/grammar errors. I write for 18+, so minors DNI. _____________________________________________________________
Once upon a time, being Bucky Barnes’ girl had felt like living in a fairy tale. He was everything your younger self had ever dared to dream of in a Prince Charming– attentive, affectionate, kind, and oh, how he made you laugh! You were the envy of all of your friends, the very definition of #couplegoals, and you thanked your lucky stars every night that the two of you had found one another, despite all the odds.
But fairy tales aren’t real. 
You weren’t sure exactly when it started, but somewhere in the third year of your relationship, after you’d moved into a handsome brownstone in Brooklyn together, after you’d adopted a fluffy white kitten, Bucky started pulling away from you. The steps that took him from you were small at first– he was taking on more and more missions, opting to stay gone for longer periods of time. Days would go by, and they’d turn into weeks, then a month or two at a time would go by where you wouldn’t see him. 
At first, it hadn’t been terrible– Bucky had always made sure to contact you each and every day. A video call whenever he could, a phone call or text when he couldn’t, but slowly, so slowly you barely noticed, the calls stopped coming all together. Sure, he’d answer when you called him… when he could, which wasn’t always possible on a mission, and you hated acting needy and taking him away from his work, so eventually, you stopped reaching out, too. 
When he was home, you were like ships passing in the night. You always offered to take time off of work so you could spend some time with him before he was set to head out again, but he never wanted you to jeopardize your career on his account. Your reunions would always be passionate, but short-lived, a few hot and heavy nights before he took off once more to save the world. 
You tried not to let it bother you. You really, really did. His job was so important. People’s lives relied on him. Where did you get off getting upset over that? So, you kept it to yourself. Until you couldn’t. Not any more.
“Y/N,” your best friend, Lainy, cornered you at her annual New Year’s Eve party, “where’s Barnes? He’s been leaving you to go solo for months now. I don’t think I’ve seen you with him since Mark’s St. Patrick’s Day Party.”
Ouch. “He’s working, Lainy,” you told her, not wanting to admit that March had been the last time the two of you had gone out together, let alone spent more than three days in a row in each other’s company. 
“Yeah, he was ‘working’ over the Memorial Day trip, and the 4th of July BBQ, and Jack and Alice’s wedding, and your aunt’s funeral.” You cringed internally as she applied air quotes to ‘working.’ “And he was ‘working’ on your birthday, and Christmas. Babe, he’s been leaving you alone for almost an entire year. What’s going on? Are you sure there isn’t someone else?”
The worst part was, you knew there wasn’t, or at least, no one individual. When he’d first started distancing himself, of course another woman was the first thing that came to your mind, and you weren’t proud of yourself, but you’d gone through his phone to search for evidence of an affair… multiple times, and repeatedly came up with nothing. And bless Bucky’s heart, but he didn’t have the technological know-how to hide an infidelity from you. Granted, that didn’t negate the possibility that he was randomly hooking up with people while he was away. You’d have to be stupid to not consider the possibility.
You could have asked Steve. You didn’t think Captain America had it in him to lie to you about something like that, but you didn’t want him reporting on your suspicions back to Bucky, nor did you think you could stand to see the look of pity in his eye if he had to tell you that yes, Bucky was cheating on you while you anxiously awaited his return every night. So, you kept the suspicions to yourself. 
Your conversation with Lainy had left you deflated. Here it was New Year’s Eve, and you were alone, the man you loved god knew where– just not with you. How many more holidays and milestones and everyday nights were you going to spend by yourself, waiting for a man who never seemed to want to be home with you anymore? This wasn’t the kind of life you wanted, the kind of life you deserved. 
You made your way to the kitchen to refill your glass of wine. You’d probably already had too many, but you needed to drown the despair that was slowly filling you up. As you poured an exceptionally generous glass, a man entered the kitchen. You recognized him– Harris, a cousin of Lainy’s who had flirted with you relentlessly for years before you had started seeing Bucky. 
“Y/N!” he exclaimed, his eyes lighting up upon seeing you, “it’s been awhile.” He enveloped you in a friendly hug. “How’ve you been?”
You smiled and exchanged pleasantries, catching up on the overall brushstrokes of your life. 
“I’m sorry about your breakup,” he offered gently, after you’d exhausted the usual small talk.
“My breakup?” you asked, brow piqued.
“Last few events I’ve seen you at, you’ve been alone. I assumed you and Barnes…” he left the thought floating, the implication hanging in the air: Barnes has left you alone, I assumed you broke up.
You huffed out a laugh. God. Was your relationship actually over and you were the only one dumb enough to not see it? 
“If you aren’t seeing anyone,” Harris continued, “I would really love to take you out. You’ve gotta know I’ve been into you for ages, and I figure if I don’t shoot my shot now, who knows when I’ll have another chance.”
You cocked your head and looked at him, taking in his earnest demeanor. Here was a man who genuinely wanted to spend time with you. Why were you waiting on someone who no longer wanted to be around?
“Um, I might have to get back to you on that, Harris,” you told him before excusing yourself. You needed air. 
You found yourself on Lainy’s balcony, the air deceptively mild for the end of December in Manhattan. Alone with your thoughts, you pulled out your phone and dialed Bucky’s number. It went straight to voicemail.
“Someone asked me out on a date tonight,” you said into the recording, your voice choked with tears you didn’t want to shed. “And I think I might say yes, because, honestly Buck, what are we even doing anymore? You’re never here, and I’m always alone. I tried. I tried so fucking hard to not let it get to me, because your work’s important. I know that. I do, and I’m not begrudging you for your job. But… but I can’t keep on like this. I can’t even remember the last time we spent more than three days together. Isn’t that crazy? Three days. Everyone thinks you’re cheating on me. Did you know that? You’re away so much that everyone I know is convinced you’re fucking someone else. Maybe you are, or maybe you already left me, but I’ve been too stupid to notice; if that’s the case, you could have just told me.” 
You kept your composure as you left the message. You weren’t angry at him; you never could be. You were just tired. So tired, and so lonely. 
“All I know is that it’s another night where I’m all by myself, wishing you were here, wanting to talk to you, to feel you, and you’re just… not. You’re off doing something, or someone, more important than me, and I used to be okay with that, but I can’t be anymore. I deserve more than waiting on you, Buck. I deserve to be someone’s priority. I really wish I could have been yours, the way you were mine. 
“So, let’s just call it, okay? Your heart’s obviously not in it anymore, and mine is too tired of being hurt and alone. We’ll have to figure out what to do about the house. I’m keeping Alpine, though. You haven’t been here for her, either, and it wouldn’t be fair of you to take her if you’re never going to be around.”
Inside, you could hear the rest of the party as they counted down to midnight. When they reached zero, the night erupted in fireworks, and you could hear cheers and cars honking their horns throughout the city below you.
“Huh,” you said into your phone, “it’s midnight. Happy New Year, Buck. I hope it ends up being a good one for you, and I’m sorry for whatever I did that made you decide you didn’t want to spend this last one with me.”
You hung up the phone and the tears finally fell as you slid down the balcony railing until you were crouched on the floor. You weren’t sure how long you sat there crying, but eventually Lainy found you, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders and ushering you into her spare room. She helped you change out of your cocktail dress and into a spare pair of pajamas, and helped you wash your face before tucking you into bed. She left you with a glass of water and a kiss on the forehead, promising that tomorrow would be better, that the next best chapter of your life was about to begin, but as you drifted into a fitful sleep, you couldn’t find the will to believe her.
You woke the next morning with a throbbing headache, the alcohol and the tears doing nothing but dehydrating you into agony. You grabbed your phone to check the time, but the battery had died in the night. From the slant of the sun coming in from the guest room window, it looked to be late morning or early afternoon. 
You changed back into your dress, thanking Lainy for her help and making a small joke about doing the walk of shame in your clothes from the night before. You avoided her questions about what had happened, promising to go over it at length at the weekend after you’d had some time to process. You weren’t in the best headspace to get into at the moment.
Fortunately, your best friend knew you well enough not to pry, and you said your goodbyes, plans for brunch on Sunday having been made. You weren’t eager to get back home, to be surrounded by reminders of Bucky, when all you wanted was the man, himself. But he was your ex-boyfriend now, you supposed. You were going to have to come to terms with that sooner than later. Besides, Alpine needed to be fed, and you weren’t going to abandon her.
Your keys clicked in the lock as you opened your front door. “Al, baby,” you called, kicking off your heels and closing the door behind you, “Mommy’s home. You hungry, sweetie?”
You began making your way back toward the kitchen when a loud crash from upstairs got your attention. You rolled your eyes; what had the cat knocked over now? 
But then there was the roar of a body barreling down the upstairs hall and toward the stairs, leaving you frozen where you stood. You cast a glance to where you’d left your phone in your purse by the door. Too far away to reach in time to call for help as the intruder came pounding down the stairs. 
A massive figure rounded the corner, nearly knocking you over.
“Bucky?” You blinked, sure your eyes were playing tricks on you, but no– there he stood, and he looked like shit. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days, and his eyes were swollen and red-rimmed. He’d obviously been wearing the same clothing for at least a day, if not more.
“Y/N,” he breathed, throwing his arms around you and wrapping you in an almost bone-crushing embrace. “Sweetheart, I was so worried.”
“What are you doing here, Buck?” you asked him, pulling away from him. God, you wanted to let him hold you, but you just couldn’t. Not anymore.
Bucky cupped your face in his hands, blue eyes desperately searching yours. “I got your message. Doll, it fucking broke my heart. I came straight home, but you weren’t here, and I was terrified that you were gone; that you’d left me for good.”
You scoffed. “I’m not the one who leaves, Bucky.”
He flinched at your words. “I know, Baby. I know, and ’m so sorry. I had no idea. I shoulda known what leavin’ you so much was doin’ to you, ‘cause it was doin’ it to me, too. When I heard you say that people– that you– thought I was cheating on you, that I had neglected you so much you thought I found someone else, that I could ever love anyone else, ever want anyone else– I’ve never hated myself more, doll. I can’t stand that you even had those thoughts in your head for one second, because it’s always been you. There’s never been anyone else. You’re it.”
“Then why have you been gone?” you asked him in a whisper. “If there’s no one else, and I’m it, why don’t you ever want to be with me? Why do you keep leaving?” 
Bucky ran both his hands along his face. “God, it feels so stupid now,” he said with a sigh. “But I was trying to save–”
“Trying to save the world, yeah, I know,” you interrupted him, annoyed. “Trust me, I’m well aware that I can’t compete with that. But I needed to know you thought we were worth saving, too, and you never did.”
Bucky started laughing then, and you scoffed. “Wow, you don’t have to rub it in, Bucky.”
“No, no– Sweetheart, no!” he shook his head. “That’s not it, at all. Hold on.” He went to the foyer and grabbed his go-bag; you had missed it when you walked in. Coming back to the kitchen, he put it on the table, opening it up and extracting a folded piece of paper and handing it to you.
It was a real estate listing for a farmhouse Upstate, with acreage on the Hudson. You and Bucky had talked about what kind of house you would buy if the situation had ever presented itself, and it was almost as if you’d dreamed it up.
You looked from the paper back to Bucky. “I don’t understand,” you told him.
“It needs pretty extensive renovations,” he told you. “I wanted to take on enough overtime to have the money for them and make a good dent on the mortgage, but it needed more work than I originally thought. And, I have to come clean– I haven’t been one hundred percent honest with you about where I’ve been spending all my time.” He looked up at you through his lashes, head bent down in shame.
“But… but, you said there wasn’t anyone else,” you stammered, heart ready to beat out of your chest. 
“Oh god! No, and I mean that! There isn’t, I swear! God, I’ve fucked this up so bad!” Bucky tugged at his hair in frustration. “I’ve been going on extra missions, but sometimes, Sam, Steve, and I go Upstate to do some work on the house, to cut down the costs so I could still make my timeline.”
“You already bought it?” you asked, your voice flat. You were in shock. “You want to move out? Away from me?”
Bucky moaned in distress and drew you to him again. “No! God, I’m doing this all wrong. I want us to move there, together. To make it the perfect house. The perfect home for me, my wife and our stupid fur baby.”
You stilled at his words. “I’m sorry, your what?”
Bucky smiled at you sheepishly as he reached back into his go-bag. “I’ll have you know that I had an entire plan. Was gonna have the house ready by Valentine’s Day. Take you up there as a surprise, ask you properly, but I fucked that up, so…” He brought his hand back out, holding a small burgundy velvet box. He opened it to reveal a vintage engagement ring, a sapphire instead of a diamond. Your favorite stone.
Bucky got down on one knee. “Y/N,” he began as his voice choked up a bit with emotion, “I know I fucked up for the last eight months. I would completely understand if you can’t forgive me, but I need you to know that I love you. I have only ever loved you, and if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life making up for the fact that, even for a moment, I let you think that you weren’t the most important thing in my life, my number one priority. Will you marry me?”
“Buck…” you began, not sure how to phrase what you were about to say. “What about your job? I can’t keep coming in second to the rest of the world, and I get that it’s selfish of me, but–”
“I quit,” he said simply.
“What?” Your eyes were wide with shock at his statement. 
“The second I heard your voicemail, where you said you wanted to call it because I was never there, I told Steve I was done, that I needed to start putting you first. It wasn’t even a question. I’m officially retired.”
Your mouth hung open. You had hoped he would cut down on his missions, but for him to have quit completely… You gently tugged him to his feet, taking the ring box and running a finger across it.
“It’s lovely,” you told him softly. “Absolutely perfect; exactly what I would have picked for myself.” Bucky beamed at you, pleased. “But I can’t accept it.” His face fell as you gently placed the ring back in his hands. 
“Oh,” he whispered, eyes growing glassy. “I… um, I understand. I fucked up, hurt you. I understand if you don’t want to be with me anymore.”
“I still want to be with you, you idiot,” you admonished him. “But you did hurt me, and we’ve been apart for a long time. We need time to find our way back to each other again, okay? Ask me again on Valentine’s Day, just like you originally planned. Don’t do it now just because you fucked up.” You leaned up on your tip toes and kissed him. “And if it helps make you feel better, I’m probably going to say ‘yes,’ anyway.”
Bucky grinned at you. “Really?” he asked. When you nodded, he picked you up and spun you in  a circle before pressing his lips to yours as if he hadn’t touched you in months. “I promise you, Sweetheart, I’ll do anything I can to make this up to you, I swear it.”
“Anything?” you asked with a smile. “I think I know where you can start.”
“Oh yeah?” he asked you. “And where’s that?”
“Take me to bed, Bucky Barnes,” you said, kissing him again.
Without a word, Bucky swung you over his shoulder and ran with you up the stairs, your squeals and giggles echoing behind him.
Much, much later, when you lay sated together tangled in limbs and sheets with Alpine snuggled next to your heads, Bucky played with your fingers as you rested your head on his bare chest.
“So, Doll,” he said, kissing the pads of each of your fingers, “you gonna tell me who had the nerve to ask my girl out on a date?” 
You laughed. “Lainy’s cousin, Harris. I suppose I’ll have to text him now and tell him I’m not interested.”
“Hell no, you’re not interested,” Bucky chuffed. “Gonna have to remind that punk you’ve already got a boyfriend. The position has been filled.”
“That’s the thing, though,” you said, planting a kiss on his nose. “I don’t have a boyfriend anymore, do I?”
Bucky’s face fell. “But I thought you said–”
“I’ve got myself a fiance.”
Bucky tightened his grip around you, drawing you even closer to his warmth. “Yeah, okay. I gotta admit I like the sound of that a lot better.”
Your entire relationship with Bucky Barnes might not have played out like a fairy tale, but in that moment, you were more sure than ever that you two would get your happily ever after.
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Note
I (26, NB) dropped a long-term friend (23, not disclosing gender, I'll call them X) for being a proshipper, and now they're trying to get in the way of my other friendships.
A little more than a month ago, an old friend from when I was an itty bitty teen on the internet (we met when they were 12 and I was 15 or so) messaged me on twitter asking if we could share discord since they're more active on that platform, and they missed hanging out. Ok, no prob!! I missed talking to X and life was going kinda icky for me at the time. We exchanged discords and started talking more frequently, before we would talk through twitter dms maybe one day every few months, and we went from almost no contact to talking every single day. It was like being a teenager again; we still shared similar interests and we really fast clicked over old and new fandoms we were in. We talked about college and how they're starting to get the hang of their new job but needed support, talked about our family lives, etc., and in general I felt really comfortable and happy to be chatting again with someone I've known for so long. We were inseparable for weeks.
However... of course, as adults, and having known each other for YEARS, we started talking about fandom ships and fics we enjoyed. We didn't have the same taste in pairings, but that was okay. Until it wasn't anymore.
I shared my NSFW twitter with them, and they followed me. A few minutes later X told me, "I see you have "proship DNI in your bio, I just want to let you know that I am a pro-ship and enjoy some things in fandom that you might think is gross. I hope that's okay."
I was kind of weirded out, and told them that as long as they didn't like anything that would be criminal in real life, that's fine. They told me they *did* enjoy things in fiction that they "wouldn't condone in reality" and even though they "don't talk about it publicly" they still wanted me to know. For some reason. ?? Even though they KNOW that I have an irl history of abuse as a kid, they still told me this.
I was so fucking uncomfortable and really, really sad, and honestly I felt betrayed? I stepped away from my account for like, an hour before messaging them back and saying I didn't want to continue talking to them anymore. That I didn't know they were that kind of person and I'm not comfortable being their friend. I didn't read their response to me because I soft-blocked them.
While I was getting over that and trying to move on, a few days later I was talking to another mutual friend of ours when they asked if I was still friends with X. I got chills remembering how I broke off with them, and said no, we weren't talking anymore. That they were the kind of person that made me really uneasy and uncomfortable to be around. The mutual friend, I'll call R, said that X was "feeling kind of down about losing a friend recently" and talked about it in a discord server they share. X didn't mention my name but R wondered if it was me who dropped them since I was really touchy about boundaries online. I freaked out a little thinking about them talking about me, and asked what else they said, and R told me "not much, just that they felt sad but it was your choice in the end because you two were different" and I don't know why but it left a bad taste in my mouth. Were they trying to make people seem like I was the bad guy or something?? Idk.
I told R the reason why I stopped talking to X, and that X is a proshipper who likes things like inc*st and rape, and R wasn't as supportive as I thought he would be, saying that he understood how I felt but if X was being honest and open about their interests, it probably meant they trusted me and didn't want to "lie" to me. I don't understand how that's even relevant if X is a fucking proshipper. I don't want their trust in the first place if that's who they really are, and I felt betrayed that someone I knew for so long was hiding that for me until we were bonding again. R basically dropped it there and said "idk then" and I told him I was going to shut off my notifs for a bit. I really don't want to talk with him again right now especially since he didn't seem THAT bothered by X being a proshipper who's into really criminal shit.
Since then, friends of mine who are also friends with R (because he's a friend of X still, for some reason), haven't been replying to me as much anymore and I'm super sensitive to noticing these things, at first I told myself it was nothing, but there's an obvious decrease in our interactions. I can't help but think that X actually said bad stuff about me, and R didn't want me to know, or maybe X convinced R that I was a terrible person or something. I still haven't read X's reply to me because I genuinely do not want to interact with them ever again, but for the past few days I've been so angry and hurt by my other friend's actions that I can't help but want to blame them, since this all started when I left them.
AITA for dropping a friend because their interests made me SEVERELY uncomfortable? I don't know what to do.
What are these acronyms?
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sanctus-ingenium · 9 months
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we need to talk about Inprnt.com
Following a really good post with more screenshots and evidence by @dynasoar5 i'm going to talk about my own experiences with @inprnt and why I am about to put my shop on indefinite hiatus from Monday the 14th of August.
First of all I'll say that since starting my print shop last year it has been a significant help to me financially - I was able to not worry about affording car insurance or motor tax (together commonly over a thousand euro) when I bought my first car, for example. I am immeasurably grateful to anyone who chose to buy one and I treasure all the pictures I've been sent of my prints hanging up on people's walls. Right now they are displayed in a real (if small) art exhibition in my home town.
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(top right print is not from inprnt though)
They're great prints. Never had any complaints about them. But here's what's going on behind the scenes.
Earlier this year, around March or April, Inprnt sales started increasing in regularity. I'd made as much as $600 a week during previous sales when I made proper promo posts here, but with this increase in regularity, I felt that I couldn't make promo posts every single week. And then one day, I'm not sure when tbh, the sale just never ended. It just didn't stop having that "Ending soon! 15% off your order" banner at the top of the site. Right now it says "Final Hours: $5 Worldwide shipping and save up to 35% off your order!" and not even for a second do I believe in this final hours bullshit. It's been 'final hours' for weeks now. Months, even.
Why is this a problem? Well, how tf am I meant to make a promo post for a sale that is always "ending soon!!" and then never ends. One week it'll say "this weekend only!!" and then when the weekend is over, the sale banner just changes its wording and the sale doesn't end. I can't promo this, it makes me look like a liar and a skeevy salesman by association! It makes the site look like it's 1 week from crashing and burning, and the site owners are just scrabbling to suck as much money from artists as possible before they drown.
And they are sucking money from us. To peel back the curtain, Inprnt money can only be transferred to my paypal account 30 days after the sale is made, just in case the order is cancelled and refunded. This means I used to make one withdrawal every couple of months, when there was enough build-up of money to make it worthwhile. It also forbids withdrawing any sum under $50 btw. I would make a withdrawal request and then, after a 10 business day wait, it would reach my Paypal account.
Not anymore! The past few withdrawals have taken over a month to complete. They are straight up keeping my earnings from me for longer the agreed period. This was my last fulfilled withdrawal:
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Note the date.
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Almost two months.
And here is the latest withdrawal request that still has not been fulfilled.
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It's coming up on 1 month and if the pattern continues, it could literally be November or December by the time I fully clear all sales.
So what's going to happen to my print shop? Because my art is currently being exhibited with a QR code linking to the shop, I can't close the shop this week. Instead I will close it on Monday the 14th of August, next week. That means that on the 14th of September, I can withdraw all of the remaining money without having any left over. My account balance will go to 0 and stay there. Although I'll de-list my prints I will leave my account there, because at the end of the day I don't want to leave Inprnt. It still offers the best artist margins and as I'm now unemployed after graduating, the additional support is such a load off my mind. So this is a chance to wait and see - if they improve their services, I'll happily re-open.
It's a big deal to me because selling prints is sort of my ideal life as an artist. I never had the attention span or self-discipline for commission work and I found that it left me creatively stagnant. I always want to try new things, new concepts and ideas, and being able to think "yeah, people will like this as a print" while I experiment is honestly very reassuring. And I know that in going on hiatus, it'll break a lot of "buy a print" links in my circulating posts. Oh well lmao. If you want to buy a print right now - go ahead, it might be your last opportunity. Another way to support me would be to check out my ko-fi for once-off donations or some nice sketchbooks/comics/book samples you can buy, or subscribing to my Patreon.
As of right now, Inprnt owes me $381 (the unfulfilled request submitted above for $186.60 and my current standing balance of $194.80 which takes 30 days from each transaction to clear).
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Did you lose her? (Lando Norris)
Maybe it was never a change of heart
Note: english is not my first language. It's angsty with a happy ending, and it's also the first piece that's I've written that's based of a song, Stick Season by Noah Kahan. I hope I did it well enough! 🫶 also, it has smut, and if you have followed me for long enough, you know I don't usually do it, but I think it's these AUS pics 😮‍💨😌🥵
Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!
my masterlist
Cw: curse words, previous break-up and themes related to that, smut (mentions protected sex, hormonal contraception, praise kink if you squint at the whole thing)
Tag list: @myloverjk-blog
And I saw your mom, she forgot that I existed
Doing the food shop was one one of the mundane adult life tasks you actually enjoyed doing. You had some music on your ears and walked along the supermarket, making sure you weren't buying too much outside of your list.
Tomato sauce and two packets of the instant noodles for when you didn't feel like cooking or were in a rush, you told yourself as you browsed through the aisle.
The scent should've been the first give away, but lots of people wore the same perfume. However, not all of them had the characteristic underlying scent that to this day meant comfort.
"Y/N! I wasn't expecting to see you", Cisca said as he placed the item she took from the shelf on her shopping cart, "goodness, how long has it been since we've seen you?", she smiled sadly.
Five months, you thought. One hundred and fifty two days since you and Lando parted ways and you shipped your belongings back to England. You told yourselves it was amicable and that you'd still be there for eachother, but you had published your first article and he had started his season without the other by your side.
"It's been some time, yes. How are you?", you wondered, "we've been good, you know how busy it gets around this time of year. But Savannah had their little girl, Athena - let me show you a picture!", she scrambled her phone out of her bag.
"Oh, how cute!", you cooed at the little baby bundled up in a pink blanket, "Mila is such a good big sister, too!", she showed you a picture with the two of them in Lando's lap, the baby tucked safely into his chest as Mila seemed to be showing him one of her toys.
Gulping and swallowing the tears that threatened to fall, you looked up at her and smiled, "I'm glad everyone is doing good - send Oliver and Sav my congratulations!", you nodded, hoping she would get the hint.
Storing her phone back in her bag, Cisca smiled, resembling the smile that you woke up many times to, "I will, darling. All the best for you, hopefully we'll see you around", she said before rubbing your back soothingly.
You found an aisle without people and allowed yourself to cry. Just for a little bit before you had to go back to pretend it didn't hurt still.
And I'll dream each night of some version of you
That I might not have, but I did not lose
"I'm on the podium, dad!", Lando yelled as he hugged Adam, cackling in excitement as he hugged the team who were there to celebrate and congratulate him.
"Congratulations, baby!", you yelled as Lando turned to hug you, arms going around your waist and pulling you as close as the safety barriers allowed, clicking open his visor so you could look at your favourite eyes in the world.
"I love you so much, Y/N!", he yelled back, winking before he went up to get weighed in.
On the podium, he looked at you like you two were the only people there, smiling up at him as he blew you a kiss.
"I knew you'd be on the podium, baby", you smiled once you were back in his driver's room, "How are you so sure?", he wondered, kissing your neck soflty.
"The development they're doing, your talent, Lando, I knew it was going to happen, and from now on, you better get used to being up there every single weekend", you smirked, kissing from his throat to his jaw and up to his lips, humming when his tongue poked at your lips begging for entrance.
It was hot and he was sweaty. His phone read 4:30am as he stood up against the headboard, finding the light switch so he wouldn't walk around the hotel room in complete darkness.
It was the third night in a row you showed up in his dreams. The first time, it was subtle as he dreamed about flying on plane and he was sure you were there. The past two, however, had you in there as a main character. He dreamed of walking in the paddock with you, of having you there to comfort him and knock some sense in his head when his P4 in qualifying didn't feel enough, and now you were celebrating his podium.
It's weird how his brain went there, how his arms and face felt like they had truly been holding you despite not having done it in months. Muscle memory betrayed, he thought as he poured himself some water and took little sips of it as he looked outside the window.
Fuck, he missed you. And not just for these big moments where he was on a high and wanted to share it with you or when he was do low you were the only person that could make him crawl out of the dark hole he snuck himself into. It's when he's making his bed back home and the other pillow remains fluffed because no one's using it, it's the mug you left behind and he doesn't have the courage to send back to you or give to someone else or when he sees something that reminds him of you and he gets it, hoping one day he can get them to you.
You once called me forever, now you still can't call me back
Lando sighed again as the call went to voicemail. It was the third time it happened in the last couple of hours. It was media day at Suzuka and they were having lunch.
"You know it's 3 am back in England, right?", Oscar asked bluntly, "when we were having breakfast, sure, you might have got hold of her if she was doing a late night, but I think you should wait", he reasoned.
Oscar was right. He didn't want to risk it waking you up even though he was sure your phone was on silent since you loved your sleep dearly.
"I hate this", Lando muttered, rubbing his forehead with his fingers. Oscar was aware of some of what had happened between Lando and you. The start of the season always came with new gossip and this one's was filled with rumours and conspiracy theories about the paddock's sweetheart and young couple.
Lando started driving in Formula One when he was nineteen, so they had seen his grow up through the years along with your relationship. At first, you were pinned down as his sister, then a best friend when they realised you didn't share genetics, and then you were his girlfriend. The lingering touches and big smiles they caught never rushed you to admit your feelings or put a label on your relationship, but everyone was there when you walked hand in hand on the paddock and confirmed the suspicions they had for months. Lando Norris and his best friend were in love and they all felt like proud parents as they watched you support him unconditionally every time you could.
"Did you lose her?", Oscar quesioned his team-mate as he picked on the food on his plate.
"I don't have her with me, have I?", Lando snapped and regretted it almost immediately.
Oscar put it down to tiredness, jet lag and the fact that he seemed a bit lost on how he was navigating the situation, "What I'm saying is, did you lose her? Did you do your absolute best to keep her with you?", he said sternly, "Used all of the options and possibilities and it still didn't work out? You don't lose someone because things fell apart in a stressful situation", he reasoned.
He was young but not dumb, truly.
"Feels like I have though", Lando added.
"What I'm saying is if you really want to know how she is and if you want to have an honest conversation with her, you have to make an effort. Not just calling and asking your mother to see if she's spotted her lately, or your sisters to check in your circle of friends whether or not she has moved on", Oscar lectured.
"Do you think I can do it? Do I have what it takes?", Lando confessed his doubts out loud. One of the reasons he had yet to act on it was because having a second chance wasn't for everyone and he needed to make sure it went perfect. You deserved that.
"You're a Formula One driver with deep pockets and a massive heart that still belongs to someone. What can't you do?", the young australian driver mused before he got up, taking his plate with him and leaving Lando pondering about what to do next.
I hope this pain's just passin' through
You sang loudly as you dusted the living room shelves, windows open to let the autumn air in. While cleaning wasn't your favourite thing to do, you had woken up with an urge to clean and given that it happened very rarely, you were taking it in stride.
So far, you found a receipt of a pair of jeans you were meant to return but gave your friends instead, a concert ticket and a bigger amount of dust than you'd like to admit. When you pulled the fabric strap, though, you knew that you wouldn't want to get rid of it. The lanyard belonged to one of the passes for one of the Grand Prix weekend you went to see Lando. Inspecting it closer, you realised it was his second home race, the Polaroid picture attached to it confirming the date.
It started with you joking about the fact that the pass was not the prettiest, so Lando hunted down the paddock to find a Polaroid camera, snapping a picture of you two and pinching a hole on it so you could carry it around and cover the supposed ugly pass. The photo was still intact, just a little dusty as you wiped it with your sleeve. Lando was kissing your cheek as you smiled impossibly big, eyes squinty and smile beaming because of the guy whose lips were on your cheek.
A single teardrop fell on the plastic covered paper before a few more followed as you sat down, looking at what you had once been and how things were right now. The missed calls on your phone led you to believe that maybe he still felt something too, but the potential heartache of trying again and it not working would hurt more than it already does.
The vibration from watch caught your attention as you read the two notifications. One from your e-mail with Qatar Airways written in bold and a text from Lando.
Qatar Airways
Thank you for choosing to fly with Qatar Airways!
Lando ✨️
I need you here with me, Y/N, please
I made the flight reservation for you, they will hold the ticket until two hours before the flight leaves, you just have to confirm with your passport ❤️
You promised me that I was more than all the miles combined
Heathrow Airport, 7th October 2023, 6:30 am.
You couldn't back out now, that would mean Lando would lose the money he spent to get you here in the first place. It wasn't by all means quiet, but your thoughts were loud enough.
You shouldn't be here. Why were you here? Why did you accept this, Y/N?
Because Lando needed you there.
Simple as that.
Boarding the flight, you smiled and thanked as the flight attendant pointed to the area where your seat was and where you would spend the next six hours and a half.
"I'm sorry, our seats are by the window", a woman in her thirties said as she bounced a little girl on her hip, making you get up so she could get to it, "thank you", she smiled, sitting down and buclking herself and her daughter to her body.
"Lyla, you can't go pulling on other people's clothes - I'm so sorry", she apoligised as the little girl pulled on your shirt's detailed button buckle.
"No worries, I know how restless they can get. You do the best for your baby. You're only responsible for yours and her emotions, no one else's on this plane", you offered her, remembering the times you would take flights and fully grown adults would go up to a stressed parent to let them know they could hear their crying child as if the parents themselves didn't know.
"My husband is somewhere in there, too", she chuckled, sometimes I feel I'm responsible for his too - accountantable in a way at least", she chuckled.
"You weren't able to sit together?", you wondered.
"My husband planned the weekend to go watch a race and come back, but we found some holiday days and we decided on a spontaneous trip. This was the only seat left they had", she explained.
"I can change seats if you want", you offered, "I'm flying on my own and I'll get to the destination all the same", you giggled.
"You wouldn't mind?", she asked, relief settling over her as she tried to see her husband, waving at him to come closer as you touched the button to call the flight attendant as the passengers were all sat down on your section.
"This lovely young woman says she doesn't mind switching seats with you", she said to her husband as you spoke to the flight attendant.
"No, there's no problem with that if you both agree", the flight attendant smiled as you got up, ignoring the frown on the man next to you who had to get up so you could swap, "bye bye, Lyla!", you waved at the little girl before her parents thanked you once again.
Finding your new seat, you put your bag under the seat in front and sat down, excusing yourself to the older couple next to you, "I just swapped seats with the gentleman that was here, I'm sorry", you smiled, hoping they wouldn't be too mad.
"Oh, he was able to sit with his family after all - I told you, Harold!", the lady winked at her husband, "I'm Francesca, you can call me Fran", she said sweetly.
Despite the early flight, they both seemed to be full of energy as they started telling you stories of their life and family, showing pictures of their kids and grandkids.
"One day you'll have all of that with the person you love, darling - if that's something you want, of course!", Harold peeped in, "our granddaughters are always telling me not everyone wants the same things!", he chuckled softly.
"It's okay - I would like that, actually", you smiled sadly as Francesca landed her hand on top of yours.
"Why does that sound like a confused heart, dear?", she commented, reading you like a book. The flight was closer to be three quarters of the way to the destination, so you still had some time to kill.
"A little bit; I'm actually flying over to see the person who still has this confused heart", you mumbled.
"Your eyes sparkle when you talk about him, dear - something tells me he's going to 'unconfuse' your heart", she smiled, "tell me about him".
"Godness", you chuckled, "He's kind, respectful, honest, goofy, cute, charming, loving, he's all that is good. We just lost our way, I think", you recalled, smiling at the thought of him.
"You'll find it back, dear. Life has mysterious ways but it has the right ways - I like to believe it does, anyway", the older lady assured, squeezing your hand in hers.
Waving goodbye to Harold and Francesca when you found the taxi bay, you requested to be taken to the paddock.
When you got there, you payed the kind driver before he helped you take your suitcase from the boot, "enjoy the race!", he smiled.
You were thankful all eyes were on the track already, making you cross the whole paddock and step into McLaren's hospitality quickly after collecting your pass.
"Y/N!", Zak said as he was the first person to spot you, "you're here, you came!", he smiled, hugging you tightly, "we're all very happy you're here", he said as he asked one of the team members to store your suitcases somewhere appropriate before leading you to the corridor to the drivers' rooms.
"Lando is inside, and the race starts in less than ninety minutes, so you won't talk all you need to, but it's a good start", he said, knocking on the door before he left.
When Lando heard the knock, he hoped it was you. Sophie and Oscar were great people, but in the last hour, everytime he opened the door, theirs were the faces he saw instead of yours.
"Y/N", he welcomed you into his room before closing the door, "I hope it's okay that I flew you here, thank you for coming", he said as he hesitated on giving you a hug.
Taking a step forward, you laced your arms around his waist as he did the same around your shoulders, inhaling eachother's scent and feeling like a weight was lifted off both of you, "I missed you so much, Y/N", he whispered before you pulled apart.
"It's not the first time you've done that for me", you fumbled with your hands, "although I was very surprised. We haven't spoken to eachother in some time, Lando", you sterned.
"Not because I didn't try", he bit bat with an ironic chuckle, "Why did you come here then?", he defended, taking your words as immediate offense and not taking a second to process them properly.
"Because even though we're not together anymore, you matter to me. I care about you! I'm not sure what monster you depict me as or that you imagine I've turned into, but I wouldn't dream of wishing you misery! If you call me and tell me you need me here, I'll be here because I care about you!", you snapped, "you have no idea how many times I wanted to give up and cancel this! Why am I here, Lando?", you asked.
You didn't expect him to react that way, not that you had a much better reaction anyway.
"Fuck, this is not how we do this", you took a deep breath as Lando held your hands in his, mimicking your movements as he did the same. Three long deep breaths, in and out, in and out, in and out.
"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that", Lando began, hands laced on yours still, "thank you for bring here, I needed you here because there's no one else in the world that can make me feel comfortable like you do, and I need that. I need to feel like myself - and I know it's a selfish ask to make you get up and drop your things to be here with me but-", you interrupted him.
"It's okay, Lando, you're okay", you cooed, searching for his eyes and hoping you'd get the message your mouth was failing to say through.
You pulled him to sit in front of you in the massage table, "I've been seeing all the podiums you've been getting - the team have done such a great job developing, and your talent and skills have brought it to the podium", you tried a lighter subject even though you were 99% sure of his worries.
"Oscar still qualified above me", he began, "He's a rookie and he's managed to do in months what I haven't done in five years", he allowed himself to express his feelings. After all, it was you.
"Oscar is not driving a tractor like you were", you shrugged your shoulders as Lando laughed.
"For someone who was invited last minute and got a pretty good pass, I'm not sure how the team would feel about you talking like that", he smirked, hand finding your own as he rubbed his thumb on your palm.
"I'm only telling the truth", you smiled, "and I mean it. I know how this sport works, but you shouldn't compare yourself to your teammate when the circumstances are so different", you mused.
"The team have been great and they still haven't said anything", he reasoned.
"Of course they haven't because it's something that happens, Lando. I was watching the highlights and so many drivers went over the limits because that's how this track goes", you stated, "there's only so much you can do and you shouldn't put all that pressure on yourself", you tsked, "I know you do, but you shouldn't", you smiled.
"You always know what to say, don't you?", he chuckled, "I have an inkling on how this here works", you winked and tapped his head with your free hand.
A knock on the door interrupted your moment as Jon opened it right after, "Lando, we need to start prepping for the sprint", he said before he turned to you, "Hi Y/N, good to have you back!", he smiled before he let you finish what you were doing.
"I should go, then", Lando trailed off, "are you going to browse around the paddock? I bet a lot of people miss you and your face here", he nudged.
"I came here for you, I don't care about anyone else", you smiled as you leaned over to press a kiss on his cheek for a few seconds, smiling against his warm skin before grabbing your bag and walking out.
Most of the team must've known you were coming since not many of them took a second look whenever you greeted them or entered a different area.
One of the media girls got you a set of headphones as she stood next to you, Oscar and Lando getting ready to go to the track.
His routine hadn't changed as your eyes followed him while he got dressed appropriately and safely for the race.
Before Lando put his helmet on he looked back at you, winking and smiling when you winked back.
When the gap wasn't closing in, you knew Lando would be disappointed with P3, not because of the place itself but because his team-mate had done better.
As you moved to a better spot to watch the interviews on the media pen, your heart felt like someone was using it like a trampoline, jumping and stomping on it as Lando spoke about himself with such a negative tone.
Surely, the interviewers were fishing for answers with biased questions and his mind took him there.
As you waited for him to be back to the hospitality, you got yourself something to eat, realising you hadn't done it since the plane.
Lando was beating himself up and he couldn't shake the bad mood he was in even when he thought you had travelled to see him and be there for him.
As Sophie gave him a quick debrief about his interviews, he stepped into his driver's room so he could have a quick shower and then head to the team debrief.
"It wouldn't hurt going up to her, you know?", Jon told him, ready to take any harsh words first if it meant you didn't hear them.
"I know it wouldn't, I'm just going to eat something and then I'll join the debrief with the rest of the team", Lando mumbled as he walked up to you.
"Hey", he said sitting down on the sofa next to you.
"Hey, Lando", you said, testing the waters and approaching his body until you rested your head on his shoulder.
"You are going to get your win, Lando. It's going to be an amazing weekend and it's going to be your first. Surely important, but you'll be a race winner and go on to the next race", you said as he seemed to be unsure of the tone you were going for, "as that will be a big moment in a long career - because it won't define it - this doesn't define you either, as a person and as a driver", you concluded, hoping to bring a little bit of his confidence and self-esteem back up a little.
"And you're going to be there?", he asked. He was feeling like shit and needed to know. It wasn't fair, but he needed to know.
"I can't make promises like that, not before we speak properly", you remarked, looking up at him from where you were, kissing his cheek and squeezing his hand in yours, "do you want me to stay here or should I go back to the hotel?", you asked. It wasn't the right time or the right place to talk about it.
"Could you stay here, please?", he said as you took your book out of your bag, knowing it would run long and you'd need some entertainment as there was only so much catching up you could do with the team when they're suppose to be working.
"I will, then", you said as Lando took the plunge and kissed the top of your head.
Ten chapters and a tea later, Lando tapped your shoulders, "I'm finished, are we ready to go?", he asked as you got up accepting his hand to hold as you walked out of the hospitality, grabbing your suitcase from the storage room and bidding goodbye to the team.
"I couldn't get a separate room for you, but the room I'm staying in has this living room area and the sofa opens into a bed, they said it's really comfy and they also left an extra mattress topper and some blankets", Lando said as he drove, "in case you didn't feel comfortable, I- I just want you to feel comfortable", he emphasised nervously.
"Lando, you don't need to walk on eggshells, okay? It's me", you smiled reassuringly as he stole a quick look at you before focusing back on the road, "sounds like a nice solution, fine by me", you reassured him.
Leaving the car to the valet and taking the lift up with you, you stayed silent until you were inside the hotel room, "That's the bedroom area, bathroom's here - and it has a double sink - and then the living room", Lando patted the extra linen folded on the sofa.
"Thank you", you assented, "would you like to talk now or is it bad timing? You must be tired f,-".
"Yes, please", he agreed immediately sitting on the sofa and making room for you to sit in front of him.
"I don't know where to begin", you observed after a while, "it's been tough being without you - I have been so used to having you there for me and to be there for you that nothing quite has the same meaning. I can live without you - barely, but I can -, that's not the question, but I don't want to", you manifested.
"We ended things because we had to, and it did us both well to see from another perspective - that's what it felt for me anyway -, but I want to be with you and to have you with me", he elaborated, "I don't care if you have to spend more time back home because of the distance, or come with me to the races because of the distance, too, I-".
"It was never about the distance, Lando", you interjected. You both used that excuse way too many times but deep down you knew it wasn't because of it.
"We'll work it out then", Lando suggested, "we'll work on us because knowing eachother doesn't mean we don't have to put ourselves first and keep investing on our relationship. I value you so much Y/N, I love you so much and I want to do this right", he whispered as if he spoke any louder would disturb the moment.
"I love you too", you smiled as you laced your hands together, "we'll work on it, together".
It was already late so Lando offered you the bathroom so you could shower and do your night routine first and then make the sofa bed to your liking while he did his night routine.
"Good night, angel", Lando said after you hugged him goodnight, kissing the top of your head before letting you lie down first since the light on his bedside table was the only one illuminating the room.
After you cocooned yourself in the sheets comfortably, you spoke up, "Lando, I'm sorry I didn't answer back sooner", you apoligised.
"It's okay, love, you don't have to worry about that", he cooed softly and you could hear the smile on his voice.
"I know it's not, but thank you for making me feel better about it, goodnight", you smiled, feeling hopeful about it.
The next morning, you were woken up by the noise coming from the bathroom, assuming Lando was showering inside as you stretched, surprised at how well you slept. Maybe the bedding was genuinely nice, the sofa bed wasn't bad to begin with, especially considering the hotel you were staying in, or maybe it was the fact that for the first time in months, you fell asleep knowing the person who your heart belonged to was more than happy to let you keep his, too, and he was in the same space as you.
"Good morning, beautiful", Lando smiled as he noticed you were awake already, "did you sleep well?".
"Good morning, Lan", you yawned, "I did, really well, actually. At what time do we have to be at the track?", you wondered. It was a night race, so the call up was later than usual.
"I'm leaving after breakfast, but you can stay and head there later if you want", Lando declared as you walked up to him, "I just need to freshen up and get ready", you smiled, kissing his cheek and heading for the bathroom with your clothes.
As soon as you arrived at the track, you took one of the back entrances as you knew Lando would spend some time with the fans and other drivers he bumped into, finding a nice spot on the lounge and going back to your book.
"I'm going to start race prep", Lando stopped by you in the lounge after a quick meeting, "I probably won't talk to you much until afterwards so I just came to check on you", he reasoned.
Getting up, you moved to one of the corridors, leaning up to kiss his forehead softly, "Good luck, my love, you're going to do so well, I know it", you smiled against his skin.
"I have my lucky charm with me", he smirked, kissing the top of your head before he got back to Jon.
From P10 to P3, Lando had an eventful race. Fortunately, and compared to the rest of the grid, he seemed to be doing fairly well as he stood in front of AC Units while replenishing the water he lost during the fifty-seven laps.
"I'm so proud of you!", you cooed as he got back to the garage, shaking hands with all the mechanics and engineers before he got to you. You hugged his sweaty body, not caring about it as long as you felt his close to you.
"They're postponing race debrief so I'm going to shower quickly and then we can get going, beautiful", he smiled, kissing a spot on your cheek very close to your lips.
Smiling giddily, you went to the bar area to get a bottle of water for yourself as Sophie walked last you, "seems like we will be seeing a lot more of you again soon - maybe Zak can also hire you as our lucky charm!", she winked as you shook your head, blood rushing to your cheeks at her words.
Back in the hotel room, it was your turn to freshen up and get ready to sleep. The spirits were high and you were feeling like the wait time was over. Your heart was healed enough as you sat on Lando's bed, "I'm so proud of you, you had an incredible drive tonight", you smiled as you moved closer to him as he sat on the edge, back against the headboard and one leg on the mattress while the other hung beside the mattress.
"It felt so good", he smiled, "thank you for supporting me", he cupped your cheek as he silently asked you for permission to kiss your lips. Lando couldn't waste anymore time as he pulled you to him so he could kiss you properly, your legs on either side of his as you straddled him, revelling in the feeling of being in eachother's hold as your hands played with his hair while his held your waist.
"As much as I'd love to continue this, I'm exhausted, baby", he rubbed your thighs, "it's okay, my love, I wasn't thinking of letting you do anything else anyway", you smiled, kissing his nose softly before you got on one knee so you could flop to the side and land on the mattress.
"Sleep here, yes?", he mused and you nodded, undoing the bed and getting under the sheets, his arm holding you to him and making sure he didn't let go.
As if you'd leave anyway.
4.30am and Lando woke up again. This time however, the sight he longed to see was right there. The you he had and had got back, cuddled up to his chest as your leg was hoisted up on top of his own and very close to his aching cock.
As he tried to change the angle so every time you moved, your smooth skin wouldn't pratically tease him, you stirred in your sleep, eyes opening as he tried to adjust your knee.
"Is everything alright, baby? Am I hurting you?", you said as you recoiled from his body.
"No, angel, no!", he quickly guaranteed, "I'm sorry I woke you up, it's just that your knee was very close to me and I was having a hard time dealing with it".
"A hard time indeed", you snickered as you felt his hard-on strained on his Calvin Kleins. Dating after being friends for so long brought an easy joking side to your relationship so much easier and funnier as you wouldn't get offended with most of what you said to eachother, "need help with that?", you smirked.
"But I wanted to treat you", Lando pouted, "Can I, gorgeous girl?", he whispered as he kissed up your neck once you whispered "yes", hands roaming on your body as he pulled up your nightshirt, finding your nipples and twisting them slightly to work your body up the way you did with his.
Your sighs and whimpers let him know he was doing a good job as undressed your torso, littering small kissed from your throat to your tummy, "you're so gorgeous, Y/N, I can't believe you're mine", he said as he blew a raspberry on your tummy, earning giggles from you before he licked up a stripe near your panties line.
"You know how much I like it when you wear your pink panties", he voiced as he touched you over the cotton fabric, feeling you pulsate already, "Do you like it when I tease you over your pink panties, baby?".
"Yes", you scrambled out betwen moans and deep breaths, "Oh my Goodness, princess", he cooed as you squirmed, "You want me to fill this pussy up?", he wondered as you let out a yes followed but a deep mewling sound.
"Let me take a little peek, then", as his fingers pushed the fabric down, a string of wetness caught in the material as he smiled, "Oh my Goodness, look at this pretty little pink pussy", he kisses your clit, "all of you, you're se beautiful, baby".
Rubbing the inside of your thighs with his thumbs, pressing the soft skin as he got rid of your underwear, "Are you going to let me fill you up?", he asked as he wouldn't do it without consent.
"Yes, please do it, Lan", you moaned, hand looking for his own to hold.
"You don't need to say please, my love - here", he whispered as he laced your hands together, "you'll always have me, you hear me? I'm yours, sweet girl", he smiled.
His hand that wasn't securely laced in yours helped you take his underwear off before he came back up to kiss your lips softly.
"Does it feel good when I tease your clit like that, gorgeous?", he smirked as he ran the tip of his cock in your sensitive bud, "Yes - uhg, baby", you gasped, looking into his eyes and swearing you could get lost in them had you not been in such a state of arousal as you were.
"You look so pretty like this, my beautiful, sweet girl", he praised as he saw your twitches and heard your moans at his words, "we need protection, though", he stated.
"I'm good, didn't see anyone else - you?", you wondered as he shook his head, "didn't see anyone else either - condom?", he asked, making you nod and separate so he could get it from his toiletries bag. Hormonal contraception left you feeling worse that it made your life easier, so you and Lando always used condoms.
Rolling it down his shaft, Lando climbed back in the bed and kissed your lips, adjusting himself before he entered you.
You whimpered as Lando slid inside you, a low groan escaping from his throat as he gently slid, taking your hand back in his and resting them next to your head on the pillow.
"You feel so good for me, sweet girl, so wet so warm, so good - aah", he breathed out, "so tight, my sweet sweet girl", he squeezed his eyes shut at the feeling of your walls squeezing him.
You stretched your arm out enough to pull his face closer to yours, kissing his jaw and then his lips before whispering "you can move, love".
Lando pulled back slowly, thrusting in gently to begin with and savouring how you felt around him.
"I love you", you muttered into his neck between moans as he picked up the pace, thrusting into you faster, harder and deeper.
"I'm close", Lando groaned as he felt your walls clench around him, his hand crawling between your bodies and drawing lazy circles on your clit to get you to your release.
"Me too, feels so good, I feel so good", you moaned out, a high pitch one particularly when you felt the band was about to snap.
“My sweet girl, my beautiful sweet girl, are you going to come for me?”, Lando worked you up as your body started to show signs of it, "let go, my love, I'm here, I've got you”, he soothed, still gently rubbing your clit with one hand and keeping hold of the other.
Your back arched, sensitive nipples rubbing against his skin, as you came with a high-pitched whine, nuzzling your face on his thick neck as you came undone around him. Lando came soon after, his hand that was not holding yours groping your waist as he groaned.
“Good, sweet girl, that was good, you did so well for me. I’ve got you, it's okay", he assured as he felt you flutter around him, probably from overstimulation considering neither of you had been with anyone else and you hadn't slept a full night yet, the tiredness he felt also a cause for how quickly he finished.
Lando kissed your forehead sweetly before he pulled out, getting up and throwing out the condom on the bathroom bin before he cane back to you on the bed.
"Let's put this on, yeah?", he whispered soflty as he helped you put on his linen shirt, buttoning it enough to let you breathe but still feel hugged by the fabric, and then a clean pair of underwear he got from your suitcase.
Before he laid in bed with you again, he put on his own underwear, pulling you to his arms and then pulling the crisp white covers over you.
"Do you feel good, baby?", he asked once you were cuddled up to him, "yes, I do", you smiled, a mixture of post sex glow and being back in his arms.
"Thank you for not giving up on us, I love you, sweet girl", Lando said as he played with your fingers, bringing them up to his mouth so he could kiss every single one of them, "you're the best thing in my life", he mumbled, letting you drift off to sleep.
570 notes · View notes
sansaorgana · 13 days
Text
— DAMAGED GOODS
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PAIRING — Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!Reader // Rabban/Harkonnen!OC
SUMMARY — The servants have been telling Baron Harkonnen many times before that the relationship between his young heir and his twin sister is close. Very close. Too close. The Baron only chuckles at that. He couldn’t care less, as long as Feyd-Rautha is a warrior he wants him to be and his sister remains out of his sight.
REQUEST — (1)
AUTHOR’S NOTE — The Reader is a Rabban/Harkonnen. I've described some of her looks – her skin is pale but not because she is *white* but because they're all pale (due to the pollution and lack of normal sunlight I guess). She has hair but it's white. I didn't describe the structure of her hair or anything and the colour is caused by the lack of pigment. Her facial features are not described in any way. Oh, and she has black teeth, too... 😁 It will be explained in the fic. I tried to make it an x Reader fic but, yeah, quite a lot about her looks is described. On the other hand, I hope it's understandable since she's Feyd's twin. I am very happy that I received this request because I've been itching to write something like that for a long time. 🤍
WARNINGS — INCEST, SMUT, non/dub-con, breeding
WORD COUNT — 6,610
🔞 THIS FIC IS 18+ 🔞
ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.
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DAMAGED GOODS
Baron Harkonnen was ready to leave Lankiveil with his two nephews – small Feyd-Rautha in one of the female servants’ arms and teenage Glossu on whose shoulder The Baron was keeping his hand on. He didn’t have any heirs of his own so one day he’d name one of the boys his Na-Baron and give them his Harkonnen surname.
They nearly reached the ship when one of the female servants of Lankiveil ran up to them with a small bundle in her arms.
“My Lord,” she called out and The Baron turned around, irritated. The woman was terrified of him but she still had her duties. “What about the girl, my Lord?” She asked.
The Baron squinted his eyes at the child in her arms. Feyd-Rautha’s twin sister (Y/N) Rabban – he had no use for her.
“Give her to the Bene Gesserit or kill her, I do not care,” he commented as Glossu’s muscles stiffened under his uncle’s touch.
“She is my sister,” his eyes widened at those words. “Please, let her come with us.”
“You will soon realise that women on Giedi Prime hold no significance. A girl…” Baron Vladimir winced. “I do not wish to raise her. She will be a burden.”
“Then I will raise her. I will take care of her,” Glossu pleaded. “And one day you will find her a match, someone to marry to create a powerful alliance. She will be useful,” he kept convincing.
The Baron wanted to be feared even amongst his family members. But he didn’t want to be hated by his older nephew from the first day. Irritated, he sighed and waved his hand at the maid.
“Fine, I shall take her,” he sighed.
Hesitantly, the maid handed the child to Glossu Rabban as his uncle gave him a scolding look.
“You’re responsible for her now,” he reminded.
“She is my sister. Her place is with me and Feyd,” Rabban nodded.
About this one thing he was stubborn and about this one thing he would fight even his own uncle. Baron Vladimir decided it would be for the best to let the boy have it his way.
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(Y/N) and Feyd were raised differently – he was raised to be a strong warrior and his uncle’s pet. Relentless in combat, obedient to his Master, an enjoyer of pain. Inflicting it on others but also the pain being inflicted upon him. Psychotic and murderous. His twin sister was kept away from such an environment by her older brother. He wanted her to become a grand lady. Of course Glossu Rabban had no idea about women’s education but he made sure that his little sister had dozens of tutors. The smarter and more courteous she was, the easier it would be to sell her in a marriage union one day. It didn’t mean she was easy to manage. Ever since she was a little girl, she would cause trouble by following her twin brother everywhere and wanting to be as mischievous as him. He was given the Harkonnen surname and the title of na-baron. She was just Countess (Y/N) Rabban. Many thought she was actually Glossu Rabban’s daughter. Despite being raised differently, her and Feyd were inseparable.
They were not identical twins – she was a splitting image of her mother while he remained a mix of both parents. He was born bald like most of The Harkonnens, she was lucky to keep her hair even though it lacked pigment and was snowy white. The only thing in common they had was their sickly pale Harkonnen skin… and their blood.
The servants had been telling The Baron many times before that the relationship between his young heir and his sister was close. Very close. Too close. The Baron would only chuckle at that. He couldn’t care less, as long as Feyd-Rautha was a warrior he wanted him to be and his sister remained out of his sight and out of big trouble that would require him to intervene.
(Y/N)’s chambers were connected to Feyd’s with the tall, black doors. In fact, they resided in the chambers of The Baron and The Baroness Harkonnen. These chambers had not been used in many years before Feyd was given them by his uncle in his teenage years. It was only natural that (Y/N) followed to the room attached to his. But most mornings, the servants would not find her in her bed. She was being found in her brother’s embrace, their legs intertwined, her hands wrapped around his muscular chest. As if they were still two embryos in their mother’s womb.
She could swear, she could feel pain when he was experiencing it. And out of them two, only he enjoyed it. It brought her no pleasure to see his scars from their uncle’s punishments. She would kiss them all better, every thin line of scarred flesh upon his back would be soothed with her lips. She loved to watch him train, following him around like a puppy at first but then she grew to be a fine woman herself and she no longer gave such innocent energy. All the years of trying to be invisible for her uncle had taught her how to slither around the fortress like a snake; always observant, always on guard, always quiet and unnoticeable. 
(Y/N) focused so hard on not being a bother for her uncle that she forgot other people might notice her, too.
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The Baron was staring at the veiled old woman in front of him with a contemptuous smirk. Of course he would follow the Bene Gesserit's order in the end whether he wanted it or not but he needed her to see that he was not as easy to control as most of the lesser lords.
“What are you asking of me, woman?” He asked as he looked her up and down.
The Bene Gesserit sighed. She knew perfectly well that he had heard her before.
“I want to put Countess Rabban to the test of Gom Jabbar to see if she’s fit for the marriage union that shall be arranged between her and Prince Paul Atreides,” she repeated her words.
“I am not fond of that girl but she is the closest thing to a daughter I have ever had,” The Baron shook his head. “What makes you think I would give her away to an Atreides?”
“Atreides was supposed to have a daughter who would be a match for your nephew Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen. His concubine gave him a son instead but it doesn’t have to mean the match cannot be arranged. After all, Feyd-Rautha has a twin sister sharing his genetic material with him.”
“And what do I get of this union?” The Baron snorted.
“Control over your enemy; The Atreides family,” the Bene Gesserit nodded her head.
“Control over them? By sending that girl over there?” The Baron laughed at the idea. “She’s a weak woman. She won’t have control over anything.”
“Paul Atreides is a boy of a gentle nature, I have tested him already. Countess Rabban will easily push him in all the directions you will ask her to,” the woman tried to convince The Baron. He knew that if he’d argue even further she would just use The Voice.
“Alright then,” he shrugged his arms. “Put her to a test. If she dies, you’ll be the one breaking the news to her brothers. I won’t deal with their pathetic tears.”
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Feyd didn’t know where his sister was. It was unusual for her not to wait in her chambers in the evening. Either way, he ordered the servants to fill the bathtub with water and then told them to leave as he sank into the warm liquid after a long day filled with combat training.
The doors opened after a while and (Y/N) entered the room. She had an odd expression on her face as if she was bothered with something and he spotted a few beads of sweat upon her forehead.
“Where were you?” Feyd squinted his eyes at her.
“The Bene Gesserit asked me to join her for a while. She did something weird to me,” she answered as she worked on her dress swiftly to take it off as quickly as possible.
“What do you mean weird?” Feyd tilted his head as he watched her undress. The folds of her skirt and bodice fell down to the floor and revealed her smooth skin and all the curves.
He had asked his older brother about their mother only once. His question had been about her looks. “What did she look like?”, young Feyd had asked. And all Glossu had answered was – “Just look at our sister”.
“She put me to a test. You’d like it,” (Y/N) smirked at him as she turned around to face him and join him in the bathtub. “It was painful,” she admitted and leaned her back on the edge, facing him. She let out a relaxed moan at the feeling of the warm water.
“She hurt you,” Feyd’s question was more of a statement as his jaw clenched.
“I’m fine,” (Y/N) let out a laugh at his reaction. “Such a strong warrior you are and look at you, your older sister is your weakness,” she teased.
“Twenty minutes older,” Feyd scoffed as she chuckled at his annoyance. “Age does not matter, I could snap your neck in a second, dear sister. You have no idea how to defend yourself,” he pointed out angrily.
“Grumpy, grumpy, Feyd,” she giggled as she moved closer to him and sat astride him. Her hands caressed his muscular chest. “Don’t be so sure I’m that helpless… I’ve been watching you train my whole life. I’ve learnt a thing or two,” she lowered her face to whisper into his ear.
He felt his cock twitching at the feeling of her body on his; her sweet breath on his ear, her whisper sending shivers down his spine. He knew she didn’t mind. In fact, she was feeding off of his desire; teasing him mercilessly over and over. One thing Rabban had made very clear was that she could not be touched by any man before her wedding. But it did not mean that Feyd hadn’t been fantasising about it many times before.
She was an absolute perfection. She was like a reflection in the mirror. And who could be more beautiful and breathtaking than Feyd-Rautha himself? She was his missing part like he was hers. They completed each other in many ways but in other ways they were exactly the same. Their heartbeats and breaths were in sync, their desires were the same and he could not tell anymore whether he craved her because of the strong resemblance or had he been the one to spoil her. His childhood experience full of violence and cruelty turned him into a hypersexual predator who would fuck anything and anyone. He had been the first one to put the sexual context into their innocent touches and kisses. On the other hand, she had played along very quickly.
In the whole wide world, his twin sister was the only person who knew and understood him. They had no secrets with each other.
“You’re getting too excited, brother,” she pointed out with a smirk as she threw her arms around his neck. He looked up at her face looming over his. She was even more beautiful like that – on top of him, in control.
“You’re mine,” he let out a raspy whisper as she raised one of her white eyebrows at him. “You’re mine and only mine. Forever,” he breathed out.
“That’s an interesting concept, Feyd-Rautha,” she smiled, “but you do know that our brother is raising me to be another man’s lady.”
“You will be my Baroness and if our brother stands in the way of that happening, I will slay him,” Feyd threatened and his sister moved uncomfortably at his words.
“Stop talking nonsense,” she rose up to leave the bathtub already but Feyd grabbed her by her hair and pulled her down again as she hissed out of discomfort. He hated to inflict pain on her out of all the people but sometimes he just… had to.
“I do mean that,” he drawled as her eyes widened at him.
“I know,” she only said and he licked his lips at the sight of her chest rising up and down as she breathed heavily. He let go of her and watched her leave the bathtub and the bathroom without a word.
Feyd left the bathtub, too. He put on a simple black robe and went back to his room. His sister was laying on his bed, completely naked and playing with one of his short knives in her hands. He sighed with relief at the sight. He expected her to be offended and go to her room before locking the doors for the night.
“I’ll be back in a while,” he told her and approached the doors leading to the corridor. She snorted and he froze.
“You’re like a dog, dear brother. You men are so easy to control with your sexual urges and desires,” she commented and Feyd clenched his jaw as he turned his head around to look at her.
“I’m trying very hard not to violate you. Don’t tease,” he warned.
“Your own sister?” She grinned, showing off her black teeth.
As a child, she had insisted on dyeing them just like her twin brother. Glossu had refused – it would make her look less appealing for the future suitors. Even The Baron had told her it had not been the best idea. (Y/N) had not listened. She had sneaked into the medical wing and had done it herself. At twelve years old she had ruined herself for the first time for Feyd-Rautha.
That had been the only time when Glossu had actually punished her physically. Feyd still remembered because he had been waiting for her by the doors leading to his brother’s chambers. She had been screaming and kicking her feet while getting her arse spanked. After leaving the room, she had sniffled all the tears back and grinned at Feyd with her new black smile. “I’ve gotten my arse whooped,” she had told him proudly as if it was an achievement.
Some time later she had been caught wanting to shave her head off but it was Feyd this time who had stopped her – telling her how much he loved it, how it was making her look different than all the other women around. How much power that hair was giving her. It had made her hesitantly put the scissors down.
And now, Feyd did not answer her teasing accusation as he left the bedroom to go to his concubines, leaving his sister alone. He would join her later, when she would already be asleep. He’d pull her closer and she’d open her arms to welcome him. He’d fall asleep caressing the soft curves of her body and feeling her heartbeat pressed to his.
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Two weeks later he trained as usual while (Y/N) sat nearby and watched. She would clap her hands excitedly each time he’d succeed and make a boo sound each time he’d lose. There was lots of mockery in her exaggerated reactions but he couldn’t imagine training without her around anymore.
At the sight of his brother entering the courtyard, Feyd lowered his blade and gave him an unpleasant look.
“What do you want? Why are you interrupting me?” He asked Glossu.
“I am not here for you,” his brother extended his hand towards their sister. “(Y/N), come with me. It is important,” he insisted and she whined. “Our uncle requires your presence.”
“Why?” Feyd barked. He did not like the idea of his uncle wanting something from his sister.
“It is none of your business, Feyd,” Glossu snapped at him and a second later he already had his brother’s knife pressed to his neck.
“Everything regarding (Y/N) is a business of mine,” Feyd hissed.
“Leave him alone,” she approached them as she ordered her twin brother. He took a step back and lowered the blade but only because it was her ordering him. She would always defend Glossu in all the arguments between the brothers. Feyd knew why – their older brother had been the closest thing to a father she had. He protected her, too. And that was the only thing Glossu and Feyd had in common. The love for their sister.
But only one of them loved her… so much.
She put her hands around Glossu’s arm and allowed him to lead her out of the courtyard. Feyd waved his hand dismissively at the servant he had been fighting with as he decided to follow them.
“Your presence was not requested,” his brother remarked.
“Don’t tease him so,” (Y/N) scolded him and he shut his mouth.
Glossu led them to the throne room where their uncle was sitting. But he was not alone. He had guests. Feyd and (Y/N) recognised them immediately from the pictures. The Atreides family – dignified and regally looking Duke Leto Atreides with his beautiful concubine Lady Jessica of The Bene Gesserit. Between them there was a young man standing – their son, Prince Paul Atreides. He was visibly trying to put on a brave face but he was scared and his eyes avoided the siblings who had just entered the room.
“Ah, here they are,” The Baron beckoned them over with his hand as he announced them. “My eldest nephew Count Glossu Rabban and his beloved younger sister, my niece, Countess (Y/N) Rabban.”
She let go of her older brother’s hand and stepped out to bow down slightly. Feyd sneered at that. He always would whenever she’d act like a lady – like their brother and uncle wanted her to. Like she had been taught to ever since she was a little girl.
“That insolent young man standing behind her is my heir and (Y/N)’s twin brother, Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen,” The Baron gave Feyd a scolding look.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, my Lords, my Lady,” Duke Leto nodded his head at all of the siblings.
“(Y/N), child, come closer,” The Baron cooed to her unusually. He would often put on such a show in front of important guests as if he wasn’t treating her like air most of the time. But Feyd was glad that his uncle actually ignored his sister. Otherwise it would be more difficult to protect her.
She approached the guests with furrowed brows, visibly confused by this situation. Feyd’s heart already squeezed inside of his chest as he had a feeling what that was about.
“You will be married to Prince Paul Atreides,” The Baron informed her as if it was nothing.
Feyd looked at Glossu first but his brother did not look surprised at all. He had to know already and it made Feyd feel even angrier as he treated it as betrayal. He shot his uncle a furious glance and then he laid his eyes on his twin sister. To his surprise, she was smiling softly at the shy and gently looking young man.
“It is a great honour,” she bowed her head and Paul Atreides flinched a little. She noticed it. “Do not be scared of me, my Lord,” she chuckled delicately. “I am nothing like my brothers.”
Feyd gritted his teeth. Without a word – rudely and risking his uncle’s punishment – he turned around and left the room.
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He saw her again in the evening. He had been training intensely for the past few hours, trying to let the frustration go. The doors leading to her bedroom were ajar and he peeked inside. (Y/N) was packing her things into black wooden chests.
“What are you doing?” Feyd asked her as his blood ran cold.
“I shall take a different room from now on. It is inappropriate for us to share one,” she muttered without even looking up at him.
“Since when do you care?” Feyd leaned on the wall and watched her carefully, trying not to show how much he was panicking on the inside.
“Since I am getting married soon,” she shrugged her arms and he snorted at her.
“You really think I’m going to allow this union, dear sister?” He asked and she turned her face around with her brows furrowed.
“You have nothing to say in that matter, brother,” she reminded him. “You are nothing but our uncle’s pet. The psychotic and fearsome Feyd-Rautha… If only they knew that you’re not scary at all,” she remarked as his jaw clenched.
“I will kill him if I must. That boy, Paul Atreides,” Feyd threatened.
“We both know you will not. It would have consequences greater than you and I can even imagine,” she smiled but he noticed the curls of her lips twitching. She was nervous.
“How can you not oppose this marriage?” Feyd let his guard down as he asked genuinely, expecting an answer just as honest.
His sister’s facial expression changed as well. She approached him and cupped his face in her delicate, soft hands.
“I’ve always known I would leave Giedi Prime eventually. I could only hope for a good husband and Paul Atreides is good. He is young and pretty and naive. My life as his Duchess will be easy and pleasant,” she explained softly. “I’ve always known I would leave Giedi Prime and I couldn’t wait for that day. I want to… No, I need to get away from here… from you,” she whispered as his eyes widened at her revelation. “You’re poisonous, Feyd-Rautha. You have spoiled me already, ruined me, stained me. And everywhere I go, our uncle’s sticky spiderweb surrounds me, suffocates me,” she finished before leaning in to place a gentle goodbye kiss upon his lips.
She wanted to move away but he grabbed her cheeks and aggressively pulled her closer once again, kissing her yet again but possessively and hungrily. She didn’t kiss him back this time.
When he finally let go of her, they were both breathing heavily but there was nothing but anger in their eyes.
“Stay away from me and stay away from Paul Atreides,” she warned her brother and he walked out of her room before slamming the doors behind him, furiously.
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But Feyd did not stay away. Whenever he was not in the courtyard, training vigorously and slaying his opponents one after another with the ferocity he had not displayed before, he would follow (Y/N) and her husband-to-be around the fortress. He didn’t trust any servant to spy on them for him, no, he had to do it himself.
Paul Atreides was left alone for two weeks on Giedi Prime and after that time he would take the Countess with him to Caladan. He was scared of his betrothed’s planet as he was widening his eyes at everything as she explained to him gently. Usually Feyd was catching them in the maze of countlessly corridors as they walked together. Soft laughter of his sister occasionally filled the cold marble walls. 
He was nearly always there; creeping in the shadows, watching, observing, gritting his teeth at her every smile or blush. Paul Atreides, visibly scared of her at first, was slowly starting to get used to her presence. And one day he dared to lean in and steal a delicate kiss from her lips.
Feyd clenched his fists at the sight as he was hiding behind the pillar. His sister’s lips had never been kissed before by any man other than him. His blood boiled when he realised that not only Paul Atreides would kiss her but also claim her as his own and put his weak and pathetic heirs inside her womb.
No, that could not happen. She was made for him, she was his other half. Feyd-Rautha would not let any other man take her away from him.
He turned around and quietly went to the living quarters where he found the room that now belonged to his sister. He barked at the servant girls to leave him and they ran away, startled by his anger. Once he was alone in (Y/N)’s bedroom, he patiently waited.
After a while, he heard her footsteps down the corridor. He would recognise them everywhere. He stood behind the doors as his heart pounded in his chest from the anticipation.
She pushed the doors open and walked inside, looking around for her servant girls. Feyd was standing behind her and observing her carefully, wondering when she’d notice him.
“I know you’re here,” she sighed without looking back. “I can recognise your stench,” she drawled.
He growled at her insolent words as he swiftly moved forward and grabbed her by her hair, pulling it by the roots and making her hiss out of pain. He pulled her closer to him, rested her body on his and smirked while pressing his cheek to hers.
“You’ve never seemed to complain about my scent before, dear sister,” he pointed out.
“I meant that you stink of sweat and blood at this very moment,” she fixed herself, still wincing out of pain he was inflicting upon her. “What do you want from me?”
“I saw you with him,” he breathed out.
“I know. I see you in the shadows every time,” she sneered. “I recommend finding a different hobby.”
“You’re mine. If you think I’m going to let you leave Giedi Prime, carry his surname and bear his filthy Atreides children in your womb, then you are mistaken, sister,” Feyd whispered angrily into her ear before biting on her earlobe.
She did not answer but in her eyes he spotted fear. Real fear, not her usual playful demeanour. For the first time in her life she was truly scared of her twin brother. Perhaps for the first time she understood why others feared him.
Still holding her by her white hair, he walked her to the bed and threw her on it. She immediately tried to crawl away and run away from him but he grabbed her ankle and watched her struggle with a smirk.
“Leave me alone,” she tried to command him. And usually he would listen to her orders but not now, too blinded by jealousy.
In one swift movement he brought her closer by her ankle and tore her dress and underwear open with his small knife. She looked up at him with anger, fear and a dose of excitement that made him smirk. Her body betrayed her – she wanted it, too. 
He was rock hard already at the sight of her like that for him. She was like a prey on display for him to feast upon. Feyd licked his lips and turned her around. He took his cock out of his leather pants as she tried to stand up on her shaky hands and legs to get away. Before she’d move too far, he pulled her close once again with a laugh.
“You’re not going anywhere,” he threatened and pressed his blade under her chin.
On her hands and knees with her beautiful white hair resting on her back – he had been dreaming of claiming her from behind this way for years now. She was trembling out of fear and anger but she couldn’t scream for help when his blade was so close to her larynx.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered as he leaned in closer to her ear. “You’re my other half.”
He felt her swallowing thickly under his blade as he smirked to himself and moved the knife away. Before she could scream, he pushed her head down into her pillow, muffling any sound that would leave her mouth.
“No Atreides will fuck you. No other man will at all, for that matter,” he barked at her, his cock twitching already at the sight of her exposed womanhood. “You’re mine,” he reminded her.
She tried to protest but he couldn’t understand the words she was saying. He pressed her head even deeper into the pillow and with his free hand he ran across her folds, finding her clit and pinching it as she squealed and kicked her feet.
She was so delicate and sensitive, his dear sister. He took a deep breath in as he was starting to get dizzy from the sight and smell alone. He worked his fingertips around her sweet spot and noticed her muscles relaxing as her will to fight him off started to subdue gradually. At the first feeling of her warm wetness, he gathered it and brought his fingers to his mouth. Feyd hummed at the taste.
“Do you know what you taste like?” He asked her angrily and pulled her hair again. She shook her head. “Like me,” he pointed out. “Because we belong together,” he reminded her and she whined.
He couldn’t wait any longer. He needed her now. He pumped his hard cock a few times before lining it up with her tight hole. Feyd nearly felt bad for his sweet sister, for the pain she would experience now. But no feeling was stronger than his lust.
He entered her in one deep thrust while she yelped and writhed; even the pillow was not able to muffle the pathetic sound leaving her mouth. He closed his eyes at the feeling of her warm and tight walls spasming around his length. She was perfect, she was made for him and him only. They were finally complete again; one body, one soul.
“You will rule with me as my Baroness,” he hissed as his hips began to thrust into her. “We will bring back the old traditions, keep our bloodline pure. And you will give me heirs,” he crooned to her maliciously. “You were made to do that, sweet sister. Made for me. Me,” he kept repeating.
She drooled and sobbed into the soft silky pillow as her hands were clutching on the sheets. She was helpless under him but what she hated the most was that part of her that did not want him to stop. That part of her that felt the same way as her brother – complete at the feeling of him fucking her. Like she was finally connected to the long lost part of her body.
Her eyes rolled to the back of her head with each of his thrust, filling her so thoroughly, making her feel full and overwhelmed as he was hitting all the right spots inside of her. She knew that sweet and gentle Paul Atreides would never claim her this way. No one would. Only her twin brother knew how to please her. He understood her more than anybody else.
He spoiled her, he ruined her, he was poisonous. But who said she didn’t want it? Her body betrayed her as it admitted that she craved it.
What she feared were the consequences of this act. The consequences of breaking the fragile truce with The Atreides, the consequences of breaking up the engagement that had been not only prepared by The Baron himself but also plotted by the dangerous Bene Gesserit.
None of it mattered, though. None of it was important with Feyd's cock buried so deep inside of her, his hand pushing her face into the pillow and making her suffocate slightly, which only enhanced the pleasure. His free hand was squeezing her hip and marking it as he grunted and cooed to her all those blasphemous promises about their shared life together, their compatibility, their bodies being made for one another.
She came first; suddenly and without a warning. Her body spasmed and trembled as her limbs went numb. At the feeling of her tight walls fluttering around his cock, Feyd reached his peak right after but he did not pull out for a long time, emptying himself as deep inside of her as he could; straight into her womb.
His sister whined at the feeling of his thick, black cum coating her walls but now, after his release, most of his anger was gone as well, so he just caressed her head and shushed her.
“Shh, dear sister, just take it like you were made to,” he cooed and she didn’t have any strength in her body to fight it anymore.
When he eventually pulled out, he watched her pussy twitching deliciously as a small streamlet of his black cum leaked out of it and stained her grey sheets, mixing with a few droplets of blood.
“Now, when you’ve been claimed by me,” Feyd smirked to himself proudly as he hid his cock back into his pants, “no other man will want you. Not when you’re surely carrying my spawn in your womb,” he added and left the room without a word.
He refused to watch her laying there and sobbing silently, trying to collect her breath and clumsily stand up to go to the bathroom. Some part of him regretted his act and seeing his beloved sister in such a state was bringing him no pleasure. He couldn’t take this back now, though, and he didn’t want to. It just had to be done.
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The room was dead silent. Old Bene Gesserit woman was staring at Countess Rabban in disbelief and the young woman held her head down with her hands clasped around her abdomen as if she was protecting her spawn from The Reverend Mother’s gaze.
Both Baron Harkonnen and Duke Atreides looked displeased but only the second one was also visibly disgusted. His son was standing by his side; shocked and scared. Saddened. Disappointed.
Glossu Rabban’s face showed nothing but disappointment and disgust as well. His anger was aimed mostly at his younger brother. He refused to believe his sister could be as rotten as Feyd-Rautha – the only person in the room who actually looked proud as he straightened himself and smirked at everyone gathered inside.
“What are you smiling about, boy?” The Reverend Mother scolded him. “Have you got any idea what you have done?”
“I’ve claimed my sister as my own. It is an old tradition of the Great Houses to practise,” he reminded her.
“Which was abandoned a long time ago for a reason!” The Bene Gesserit snapped at him. “Your sister was supposed to give birth to Paul Atreides’ son and bring Kwisatz Haderach to life!”
“I do not care about your schemes,” Feyd rolled his eyes as he moved closer to his sister.
“Stay away from her,” Glossu barked.
“Or what? She’s already carrying my child inside of her, is she not?” Feyd asked, proudly as most of the room flinched with disgust.
“She can still bear Kwisatz Haderach,” The Baron tried to desperately save the situation. “We can get rid of that spawn inside of her and still give her to Paul Atreides. Obviously, not as a wife anymore,” he assured Duke Leto. “As a whore that she apparently is.”
Feyd clenched his jaw at his words as he took a step ahead of (Y/N) and covered her body with his from the sight.
“Over my dead body any of you will touch my sister or my child,” he drawled through gritted teeth.
“Inbreeding your bloodline might have morbid consequences,” The Reverend Mother informed him. “She’s carrying a demon.”
Feyd snorted at her. Was he supposed to be scared of her words? They only made him even more proud.
At those words, Baron Harkonnen squinted his eyes at the Bene Gesserit woman. He visibly liked the idea of having demonic heirs as well.
“I've changed my mind. We will not get rid of the child,” he decided. “Feyd-Rautha is my na-baron. If he chooses to marry his twin sister, then that is his right,” he said.
“That is plain disrespect!” Duke Leto raised his voice. “We have agreed to this union despite the bride being… not of the best quality. We have brought our son here, to this poisoned planet and nothing but humiliation awaited him here.”
Duke Leto pushed his son lightly in the direction of the doors as they walked out, offended. The guards looked at The Baron Harkonnen questioningly.
“Let them go,” he chuckled. “Soon, their time will come anyway.”
“Not before we secure young Paul Atreides’ bloodline!” The Reverend Mother widened her eyes at him as she ran after Duke Leto. “My Lord, please wait, I have another brides to offer that will suit your son just right…!” Her voice disappeared when the heavy doors closed behind them all.
“So, it’s settled,” Baron Harkonnen took a look at his nephews and niece as he puffed on his pipe and sighed. “You owe me for that, Feyd,” he pointed out and his young nephew bowed down. “I knew that you children would bring me nothing but trouble.”
“I am sorry!” Glossu exclaimed all of sudden as everyone looked at him, surprised. “I am sorry for failing, uncle! I was supposed to look after her, to protect her, to make sure everything goes right…”
“But everything did go right,” Baron Harkonnen laughed contemptuously. “(Y/N), darling, come here…” He reached his hand out and the young woman nodded her head before approaching her uncle, obediently. “When you were a little baby, I wanted to get rid of you,” he admitted as he held her hand. “Your brother Glossu was the one to convince me you would be useful one day. He swore to raise you.”
(Y/N) didn’t react to those words. She only stood there and looked deep into her uncle’s eyes.
“Turns out he was right,” The Baron continued, “you are very useful for The House Harkonnen. You will bear us strong heirs that shall take over the whole Empire…” He hummed and she nodded. “From now on, even before your wedding to your brother, you will be known as Countess (Y/N) Harkonnen. I adopt you,” he announced as her eyes sparkled.
“Thank you, uncle,” she let go of his hand to take a step back and bow her head down.
Feyd stood behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. Glossu was staring at them as if he wanted to kill them both at that moment. Even his baby sister whom he had raised was suddenly more important in the family hierarchy than him.
“You have my blessing,” The Baron told them and dismissed them all with a wave of his hand.
Feyd walked his sister out of the throne room with his hands still on her shoulders. He was as protective as ever with her now when she was in her delicate state.
He took her back to their shared chambers to which she had returned recently. He sat her down on the edge of his bed and approached the vanity table to get a brush before sitting behind her and taking care of her long, white hair. Delicately working on every small tangle, sniffing the scent of her favourite hair oils, smiling to himself at the thought he would have her for himself forever from now on.
“Are you happy, dear sister?” He asked as he gathered her hair to throw it out of her left shoulder and place a kiss on the exposed skin of her neck.
“We belong together,” she answered, her hands still clasped on her abdomen protectively as if that demonic spawn inside of her needed protection. “I was made for you,” she added.
She would not get away from Giedi Prime. She would not be given to any lord and run away from The Harkonnens. In fact, now she was a Harkonnen, too. Her fate was to rule alongside Feyd-Rautha as his sister-wife.
“I asked, are you happy, dear sister?” He repeated the question, squinting his eyes at her.
She took a deep breath in. She knew that he would know if she lied to him but she didn’t feel the need to hide anything from him. Therefore, she spoke the truth:
“I am.”
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MASTERLIST
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roosterforme · 18 days
Text
In the Line of Duty | Rooster x Reader
Summary: During preparations for a dangerous mission, Bradley finds comfort in writing his thoughts down for his unborn child to eventually read. There's always a chance that he won't make it back, and his final plans involve safeguarding the most important item he brought on his deployment with him.
Warnings: Angst, deployment, pregnancy topics
Length: 2800 words
Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader
This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.
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Bradley was in the same tiny room with the same seven people for the nineteenth day in a row. He was sweating, too aware of his surroundings. He could hear Reuben breathing next to him. He could hear Admiral Turner's wristwatch counting off every second. He could hear the plans being laid out, but he could barely focus on them.
"The political climate is rapidly changing," the admiral said. "This bombing run is essential, however it will undoubtedly lead to a hostile environment for our allies. Getting the timing just right is essential to a successful mission."
He'd been telling the aviators the same things for days, and while Bradley knew somebody's best interest was at heart, he wasn't really sure it was his. Or Reuben's. Or anybody's in this fucking claustrophobic room. But what choice did he have but to sit here in his flight suit, reeking of jet fuel until he was released?
"Also," Admiral Turner said, his voice laced with exhaustion, "we'll be keeping a close watch on the weather. If you fly this mission, it's going to be a rough takeoff and an even rougher landing. And that's not even mentioning the elements you'll encounter in the air."
Bradley could feel it. The aircraft carrier was a massive vessel, nothing like a cruise ship or anything smaller. It was built to withstand typhoons and hurricanes, but he could still feel it. The movement was getting worse by the hour now. There were deckhands and petty officers walking around with seasickness bags. People were running from the mess hall left and right. The only thing that could be said of this small group of aviators in this tiny ass room was that professional fighter pilots had all traces of motion sickness eliminated from their bodies during flight training, never to be heard from again. He wasn't uncomfortable, but he could still feel it.
"And with that final precaution, I've made my selection for the three pilots who will fly when I say it's time to go." Bradley knew it in his bones even before he heard the admiral say, "Vandal. Patches. Rooster. Everyone else will remain on standby. You're all dismissed."
As he stood, Reuben stuck his fist out. "Congrats, man," he said, and Bradley reached out as well to bump fists. Being chosen was an accomplishment; Bradley always wanted to be chosen. He always wanted to perform to the best of his ability. But his thoughts were so heavy now, filled with new hopes and fears. 
"Thanks, Payback," he replied, following his friend from the room and into the noisy reprieve of the cool hallway. There were people rushing around as the two of them made their way to the mess hall. "But if I have to sit in that room for another day, I'm going to lose my mind."
Reuben laughed as he started to load a tray with food. "I love how the weather is too bad for us to do any training runs, but in the same sentence, we're told to be ready to fly a mission in this. It's like they're steering us right into the worst of the storm."
They were. Bradley could tell they were. There was something strategic about the open water location, but they were absolutely heading into the worst of it. He just hoped it would clear up before he was called out on deck to fly. 
"It's a good thing I haven't barfed in a Super Hornet since that very first time," he said, also piling food that he knew would taste like cardboard onto a plate.
"This shit sucks," Reuben muttered, biting into a roll once they reached an empty table. "We got any more of your wife's cookies back in the bunk?"
Bradley smiled as he looked at the questionable meal in front of him. "A few." He bit into the steak and grimaced. Everything you cooked at home was better than this. He'd trade his whole plate of food right now for half of a grilled cheese sandwich made by your hands. Just thinking about it had his stomach growling louder. "You already ate most of them."
Reuben popped another roll into his mouth and chewed it up before saying, "Rooster, you've got a hot lieutenant commander who can cook for a wife. And a baby on the way. Come on, man. The least you can do is spare some more of those cookies."
Once he let his thoughts drift, Bradley knew it would take hours to get focused on his job again, but he couldn't help it. When he left home, you looked the same as you always did. You'd been complaining about your weight gain and bloating for weeks, but you looked just perfect to him. He wanted to get back home to see if you had a bump yet. He wanted to get home and talk to the Nugget. But he'd already been gone for three weeks, and he hadn't been given a single chance to call or FaceTime with you. 
He hated having no idea how your most recent doctor's appointment went. There were probably new ultrasound photos sitting right on the kitchen counter, but it could be weeks before he got to see how much the Nugget grew since last time. He should be a home, catering to your every whim and building the massive jungle gym for the backyard.
"Are you excited?" Reuben asked, breaking through his thoughts. "You've got what, like five more months to go before you're a dad?"
"One hundred and eighty-six days until the due date," Bradley replied with a grin. "And yeah, I'm pretty fucking excited. It's all I can think about." He tried to finish all of the food, but he set his plate aside and said, "Let's go eat some of those cookies."
An hour later, Bradley was sitting in his bunk, nibbling on the rationed baked goods while Reuben snored across the room. He took this opportunity to get out the pink and blue striped notebook which he affectionately referred to as the Nugget notebook. He'd filled half of it with his musings, and he figured it would be full by your due date. It was silly, just his random thoughts and some sporadic story telling, but he liked the idea of his kid having all of this to look at later. He uncapped his pen, jotted down the date, and started writing what was on his mind. 
You'll never guess where I am right now. No really. It would be impossible, because even I don't really know where I am! But it's somewhere in the Pacific Ocean, I know that for sure. And while I'm really, really far away from you and your mom right now, the two of you are all I can think about....
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The weather was so bad a few days later that the gym was closed. Bradley and Reuben stood in front of the locked door in their gym clothes looking at each other. 
"This is fucking wild," Bradley muttered, deprived of the only activity he could think of to keep himself busy. The hallways were pretty empty at this time of night, but everything still felt more deserted than usual. The dining menus had been pared down, presumably because half of the kitchen staff was too seasick to make everything. He was starting to feel anxious. "Let's go workout in the bunk and then finish the cookies."
"Sounds good," Reuben replied. They took turns churning out sets of fifty push ups while the other ate a cookie. They did this until they were both sweating and all of the cookies were officially gone.
"Now what the fuck are we supposed to do?" Bradley asked, but any response was cut off by a knocking on the door. He jumped up, glanced at Reuben, and then opened the door for a petty officer. 
"Bradshaw?"
"Yeah?"
"You requested a FaceTime call? Report to the lounge in thirty minutes."
"Thanks," he said, heart beating wildly as he closed the door. He rushed around the room, grinning and grabbing everything he'd need to take a quick shower.
Reuben just laughed and said, "Please thank her again for the cookies."
"Will do," Bradley replied, making a mad dash for the showers. If he did the math correctly, he figured it was between four and five o'clock in the morning back home in San Diego. He hated calling you in the middle of the night, especially when you were pregnant and exhausted, but he knew you'd forgive him. And he desperately needed to see your face and hear your voice.
His hair was still damp when he jogged along the quiet corridors toward the lounge and took a seat in front of one of the computers. He quickly entered his credentials followed by your phone number, and then he waited and waited. "Shit," he muttered, gripping the edge of the table, afraid the call was going to ring through and then cut off. But then he heard you screech his name and saw you as you reached for your glasses while the light from the lamp on your nightstand illuminated your face. 
"Bradley!" you practically screamed again, your voice scratchy from sleep. "Roo! Are you okay?"
"Hey, Baby Girl," he said, feeling calmer than he had in weeks as you juggled your phone around and tried to sit up fully in bed. "I'm fine. Sorry it's so late."
"No, no, no, this is perfect!" you insisted, rubbing your eye behind your glasses as you tried to stifle a yawn. "This is great."
Bradley laughed and said, "I miss you so fucking much. Wish I was in bed right there with you."
"Me too," you insisted, and he could see the sincerity on your face. "It got chilly here tonight, and Tramp isn't as snuggly as you are."
He wanted to kiss you. He wished he could somehow dive through the screen and end up next to you where you'd pull him right into your arms. His voice was just a whisper as he said, "Tell me about the Nugget."
Your smile was soft, and you bit your lip. "Dr. Morris said the Nugget looked great when I was there two weeks ago."
"Two weeks ago," he groaned, rubbing his rough hands along his face. "Sweetheart... I already missed so much." When he looked at the screen again, you were out of bed and on the move. "Where are you going?"
You flipped on the hallway light and said, "To get the ultrasounds to show you. I left them on the kitchen counter."
The fact that he knew that's where they would be made him smile. When you propped your phone up next to the stove and turned on the light, he felt tears stinging his eyes. You held up one of the photos so he could see the baby, and he had to blink past his blurry vision. "There's my Nugget," he said, voice thick with emotion as you held up a second image. "Fucking cutest baby I've ever seen."
Your laughter sounded beautiful as you showed him a third one. "I liked this one the best. I think it looks like the baby is waving hello."
"Shit," he gasped. "You're right. I can't wait to wallpaper our bedroom with copies of these."
You pulled the baby picture away, and he could see your face again as you said, "You're probably not even joking."
"I'm definitely not even joking."
You leaned on the counter and got a little closer to your phone as you said, "Another week or so, and I can go in for an anatomy scan."
Now Bradley felt like crying for a totally different reason. "You get to find out if the Nugget is a boy or a girl."
"Yeah," you said with a nod. "But I don't really want to do that without you there too."
Bradley looked at your beautiful face and the perfect curve of your cheek. He imagined a little baby in your arms with the same flawless features. "I wish I could get home in time to hold your hand and find out in person. But you know I don't care one way or the other. The only nice thing is that we can start narrowing down baby names soon. I actually wrote down a few that I kind of like in the Nugget notebook earlier."
Your smile was brilliant as you told him, "I can't wait to read all of your notebook entries. And if you're not home for my next appointment, I'll be practically vibrating with anticipation until I get to tell you if it's a boy Nugget or a girl Nugget."
Bradley opened his mouth to say he couldn't wait to come home and spend a full day curled up with both of you. He was about to ask you to pull his UVA shirt up and let him see what your belly looked like now. But the lounge door swung open so hard, it sounded like it was going to fall off the hinges.
"Bradshaw!" barked Admiral Turner. "It's time. Get into your flight suit."
"Yes, Sir," he said before glancing back down to see your face as you started to cry.
"You have to go," you sobbed.
"I do," he said quickly. "Right now. Listen, I love you. More than anything. You and the baby both, okay? I love you."
"I love you, too," you sobbed as your lips trembled. "So much."
"I'll be home soon," he promised, even though he knew he couldn't guarantee anything of the sort. "I love you."
After he ended the call, he ran back to the bunk where Reuben was already in his flight suit and pulling on his boots. It was late enough now that it had to be dark outside, so he was either about to fly another mission without the use of one of his senses, or they were sending him out at first light. Either way, he knew what he had to do, so he pulled his own flight suit on with shaky hands.
The call with you had calmed his nerves right up until the point when he had to abruptly end it. What he wouldn't give to be back home within a week. He'd drive you to the appointment in his Bronco and hold your hand the whole time. Dr. Morris would let you know if he was going to be the dad to a daughter or a son. His little Nugget.
"You ready?" Reuben asked as Bradley finished lacing up his boots. 
He looked up at his friend as he stood. "Actually, no," he said, pulling his duffle out from under his bed. He started rooting through it as he said, "I need you to potentially do me a favor."
"Sure," Reuben replied, "but we gotta get to the meeting room now, Rooster."
"I know," he mumbled in response as his hands connected with the most important thing he had with him. He held up the pink and blue notebook, his voice calm in spite of his nerves as he said, "Just real quick, you see this? I need you to take this back to my wife if anything happens to me."
His friend was silent for a beat before he said, "Alright. I can do that."
Bradley's fingers tightened around the spiral binding holding together all of his thoughts about fatherhood and how much he loved his unborn child. And now his voice shook a bit as he said, "This is very important to me."
Reuben nodded and said, "Understood. I promise I'll take care of it if the need arises."
"Thank you." Bradley kissed the striped cover and propped the notebook up against his pillow, giving it one last look before he followed Reuben from the bunk.
At first light, Bradley made his way out onto the carrier deck through the rain and whistling wind. The mission was on. The weather was miserable, but the plethora of Naval officers deemed this the best opportunity they were going to get to help their allies. 
It was time. Time for Bradley to trust himself. And if he failed, he trusted Reuben to take the notebook back to San Diego and get it into the hands of his wife. Then you'd take care of the notebook for the Nugget. Because if there was one person who was never going to let him down, it was you.
-------------------------
I can't deal with how much I've been hurting my own feelings with these two. Should we start a new series? Would that be okay? A tragic, new series? Thank you for reading about and loving them! Please stay tuned. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls
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