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victusinveritas · 2 months ago

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Story below the cut to avoid a paywall.

There was no explanation, no warning. One minute, I was in an immigration office talking to an officer about my work visa, which had been approved months before and allowed me, a Canadian, to work in the US. The next, I was told to put my hands against the wall, and patted down like a criminal before being sent to an Ice detention center without the chance to talk to a lawyer.

I grew up in Whitehorse, Yukon, a small town in the northernmost part of Canada. I always knew I wanted to do something bigger with my life. I left home early and moved to Vancouver, British Columbia, where I built a career spanning multiple industries – acting in film and television, owning bars and restaurants, flipping condos and managing Airbnbs.

In my 30s, I found my true passion working in the health and wellness industry. I was given the opportunity to help launch an American brand of health tonics called Holy! Water – a job that would involve moving to the US.

I was granted my trade Nafta work visa, which allows Canadian and Mexican citizens to work in the US in specific professional occupations, on my second attempt. It goes without saying, then, that I have no criminal record. I also love the US and consider myself to be a kind, hard-working person.

I started working in California and travelled back and forth between Canada and the US multiple times without any complications – until one day, upon returning to the US, a border officer questioned me about my initial visa denial and subsequent visa approval. He asked why I had gone to the San Diego border the second time to apply. I explained that that was where my lawyer’s offices were, and that he had wanted to accompany me to ensure there were no issues.

After a long interrogation, the officer told me it seemed “shady” and that my visa hadn’t been properly processed. He claimed I also couldn’t work for a company in the US that made use of hemp – one of the beverage ingredients. He revoked my visa, and told me I could still work for the company from Canada, but if I wanted to return to the US, I would need to reapply.

I was devastated; I had just started building a life in California. I stayed in Canada for the next few months, and was eventually offered a similar position with a different health and wellness brand.

I restarted the visa process and returned to the same immigration office at the San Diego border, since they had processed my visa before and I was familiar with it. Hours passed, with many confused opinions about my case. The officer I spoke to was kind but told me that, due to my previous issues, I needed to apply for my visa through the consulate. I told her I hadn’t been aware I needed to apply that way, but had no problem doing it.

Then she said something strange: “You didn’t do anything wrong. You are not in trouble, you are not a criminal.”

I remember thinking: Why would she say that? Of course I’m not a criminal!

She then told me they had to send me back to Canada. That didn’t concern me; I assumed I would simply book a flight home. But as I sat searching for flights, a man approached me.

“Come with me,” he said.

There was no explanation, no warning. He led me to a room, took my belongings from my hands and ordered me to put my hands against the wall. A woman immediately began patting me down. The commands came rapid-fire, one after another, too fast to process.

They took my shoes and pulled out my shoelaces.

“What are you doing? What is happening?” I asked.

“You are being detained.”

“I don’t understand. What does that mean? For how long?”

“I don’t know.”

That would be the response to nearly every question I would ask over the next two weeks: “I don’t know.”

They brought me downstairs for a series of interviews and medical questions, searched my bags and told me I had to get rid of half my belongings because I couldn’t take everything with me.

“Take everything with me where?” I asked.

A woman asked me for the name of someone they could contact on my behalf. In moments like this, you realize you don’t actually know anyone’s phone number anymore. By some miracle, I had recently memorized my best friend Britt’s number because I had been putting my grocery points on her account.

I gave them her phone number.

They handed me a mat and a folded-up sheet of aluminum foil.

“What is this?”

“Your blanket.”

“I don’t understand.”

I was taken to a tiny, freezing cement cell with bright fluorescent lights and a toilet. There were five other women lying on their mats with the aluminum sheets wrapped over them, looking like dead bodies. The guard locked the door behind me.

For two days, we remained in that cell, only leaving briefly for food. The lights never turned off, we never knew what time it was and no one answered our questions. No one in the cell spoke English, so I either tried to sleep or meditate to keep from having a breakdown. I didn’t trust the food, so I fasted, assuming I wouldn’t be there long.

On the third day, I was finally allowed to make a phone call. I called Britt and told her that I didn’t understand what was happening, that no one would tell me when I was going home, and that she was my only contact.

They gave me a stack of paperwork to sign and told me I was being given a five-year ban unless I applied for re-entry through the consulate. The officer also said it didn’t matter whether I signed the papers or not; it was happening regardless.

I was so delirious that I just signed. I told them I would pay for my flight home and asked when I could leave.

No answer.

Then they moved me to another cell – this time with no mat or blanket. I sat on the freezing cement floor for hours. That’s when I realized they were processing me into real jail: the Otay Mesa Detention Center.

I was told to shower, given a jail uniform, fingerprinted and interviewed. I begged for information.

“How long will I be here?”

“I don’t know your case,” the man said. “Could be days. Could be weeks. But I’m telling you right now – you need to mentally prepare yourself for months.”

Months.

I felt like I was going to throw up.

I was taken to the nurse’s office for a medical check. She asked what had happened to me. She had never seen a Canadian there before. When I told her my story, she grabbed my hand and said: “Do you believe in God?”

I told her I had only recently found God, but that I now believed in God more than anything.

“I believe God brought you here for a reason,” she said. “I know it feels like your life is in a million pieces, but you will be OK. Through this, I think you are going to find a way to help others.”

At the time, I didn’t know what that meant. She asked if she could pray for me. I held her hands and wept.

I felt like I had been sent an angel.

I was then placed in a real jail unit: two levels of cells surrounding a common area, just like in the movies. I was put in a tiny cell alone with a bunk bed and a toilet.

The best part: there were blankets. After three days without one, I wrapped myself in mine and finally felt some comfort.

For the first day, I didn’t leave my cell. I continued fasting, terrified that the food might make me sick. The only available water came from the tap attached to the toilet in our cells or a sink in the common area, neither of which felt safe to drink.

Eventually, I forced myself to step out, meet the guards and learn the rules. One of them told me: “No fighting.”

“I’m a lover, not a fighter,” I joked. He laughed.

I asked if there had ever been a fight here.

“In this unit? No,” he said. “No one in this unit has a criminal record.”

That’s when I started meeting the other women.

That’s when I started hearing their stories.

And that’s when I made a decision: I would never allow myself to feel sorry for my situation again. No matter how hard this was, I had to be grateful. Because every woman I met was in an even more difficult position than mine.

There were around 140 of us in our unit. Many women had lived and worked in the US legally for years but had overstayed their visas – often after reapplying and being denied. They had all been detained without warning.

If someone is a criminal, I agree they should be taken off the streets. But not one of these women had a criminal record. These women acknowledged that they shouldn’t have overstayed and took responsibility for their actions. But their frustration wasn’t about being held accountable; it was about the endless, bureaucratic limbo they had been trapped in.

The real issue was how long it took to get out of the system, with no clear answers, no timeline and no way to move forward. Once deported, many have no choice but to abandon everything they own because the cost of shipping their belongings back is too high.

I met a woman who had been on a road trip with her husband. She said they had 10-year work visas. While driving near the San Diego border, they mistakenly got into a lane leading to Mexico. They stopped and told the agent they didn’t have their passports on them, expecting to be redirected. Instead, they were detained. They are both pastors.

I met a family of three who had been living in the US for 11 years with work authorizations. They paid taxes and were waiting for their green cards. Every year, the mother had to undergo a background check, but this time, she was told to bring her whole family. When they arrived, they were taken into custody and told their status would now be processed from within the detention center.

Another woman from Canada had been living in the US with her husband who was detained after a traffic stop. She admitted she had overstayed her visa and accepted that she would be deported. But she had been stuck in the system for almost six weeks because she hadn’t had her passport. Who runs casual errands with their passport?

One woman had a 10-year visa. When it expired, she moved back to her home country, Venezuela. She admitted she had overstayed by one month before leaving. Later, she returned for a vacation and entered the US without issue. But when she took a domestic flight from Miami to Los Angeles, she was picked up by Ice and detained. She couldn’t be deported because Venezuela wasn’t accepting deportees. She didn’t know when she was getting out.

There was a girl from India who had overstayed her student visa for three days before heading back home. She then came back to the US on a new, valid visa to finish her master’s degree and was handed over to Ice due to the three days she had overstayed on her previous visa.

There were women who had been picked up off the street, from outside their workplaces, from their homes. All of these women told me that they had been detained for time spans ranging from a few weeks to 10 months. One woman’s daughter was outside the detention center protesting for her release.

That night, the pastor invited me to a service she was holding. A girl who spoke English translated for me as the women took turns sharing their prayers – prayers for their sick parents, for the children they hadn’t seen in weeks, for the loved ones they had been torn away from.

Then, unexpectedly, they asked if they could pray for me. I was new here, and they wanted to welcome me. They formed a circle around me, took my hands and prayed. I had never felt so much love, energy and compassion from a group of strangers in my life. Everyone was crying.

At 3am the next day, I was woken up in my cell.

“Pack your bag. You’re leaving.”

I jolted upright. “I get to go home?”

The officer shrugged. “I don’t know where you’re going.”

Of course. No one ever knew anything.

I grabbed my things and went downstairs, where 10 other women stood in silence, tears streaming down their faces. But these weren’t happy tears. That was the moment I learned the term “transferred”.

For many of these women, detention centers had become a twisted version of home. They had formed bonds, established routines and found slivers of comfort in the friendships they had built. Now, without warning, they were being torn apart and sent somewhere new. Watching them say goodbye, clinging to each other, was gut-wrenching.

I had no idea what was waiting for me next. In hindsight, that was probably for the best.

Our next stop was Arizona, the San Luis Regional Detention Center. The transfer process lasted 24 hours, a sleepless, grueling ordeal. This time, men were transported with us. Roughly 50 of us were crammed into a prison bus for the next five hours, packed together – women in the front, men in the back. We were bound in chains that wrapped tightly around our waists, with our cuffed hands secured to our bodies and shackles restraining our feet, forcing every movement into a slow, clinking struggle.

When we arrived at our next destination, we were forced to go through the entire intake process all over again, with medical exams, fingerprinting – and pregnancy tests; they lined us up in a filthy cell, squatting over a communal toilet, holding Dixie cups of urine while the nurse dropped pregnancy tests in each of our cups. It was disgusting.

We sat in freezing-cold jail cells for hours, waiting for everyone to be processed. Across the room, one of the women suddenly spotted her husband. They had both been detained and were now seeing each other for the first time in weeks.

The look on her face – pure love, relief and longing – was something I’ll never forget.

We were beyond exhausted. I felt like I was hallucinating.

The guard tossed us each a blanket: “Find a bed.”

There were no pillows. The room was ice cold, and one blanket wasn’t enough. Around me, women lay curled into themselves, heads covered, looking like a room full of corpses. This place made the last jail feel like the Four Seasons.

I kept telling myself: Do not let this break you.

Thirty of us shared one room. We were given one Styrofoam cup for water and one plastic spoon that we had to reuse for every meal. I eventually had to start trying to eat and, sure enough, I got sick. None of the uniforms fit, and everyone had men’s shoes on. The towels they gave us to shower were hand towels. They wouldn’t give us more blankets. The fluorescent lights shined on us 24/7.

Everything felt like it was meant to break you. Nothing was explained to us. I wasn’t given a phone call. We were locked in a room, no daylight, with no idea when we would get out.

I tried to stay calm as every fiber of my being raged towards panic mode. I didn’t know how I would tell Britt where I was. Then, as if sent from God, one of the women showed me a tablet attached to the wall where I could send emails. I only remembered my CEO’s email from memory. I typed out a message, praying he would see it.

He responded.

Through him, I was able to connect with Britt. She told me that they were working around the clock trying to get me out. But no one had any answers; the system made it next to impossible. I told her about the conditions in this new place, and that was when we decided to go to the media.

She started working with a reporter and asked whether I would be able to call her so she could loop him in. The international phone account that Britt had previously tried to set up for me wasn’t working, so one of the other women offered to let me use her phone account to make the call.

We were all in this together.

With nothing to do in my cell but talk, I made new friends – women who had risked everything for the chance at a better life for themselves and their families.

Through them, I learned the harsh reality of seeking asylum. Showing me their physical scars, they explained how they had paid smugglers anywhere from $20,000 to $60,000 to reach the US border, enduring brutal jungles and horrendous conditions.

One woman had been offered asylum in Mexico within two weeks but had been encouraged to keep going to the US. Now, she was stuck, living in a nightmare, separated from her young children for months. She sobbed, telling me how she felt like the worst mother in the world.

Many of these women were highly educated and spoke multiple languages. Yet, they had been advised to pretend they didn’t speak English because it would supposedly increase their chances of asylum.

Some believed they were being used as examples, as warnings to others not to try to come.

Women were starting to panic in this new facility, and knowing I was most likely the first person to get out, they wrote letters and messages for me to send to their families.

It felt like we had all been kidnapped, thrown into some sort of sick psychological experiment meant to strip us of every ounce of strength and dignity.

We were from different countries, spoke different languages and practiced different religions. Yet, in this place, none of that mattered. Everyone took care of each other. Everyone shared food. Everyone held each other when someone broke down. Everyone fought to keep each other’s hope alive.

I got a message from Britt. My story had started to blow up in the media.

Almost immediately after, I was told I was being released.

My Ice agent, who had never spoken to me, told my lawyer I could have left sooner if I had signed a withdrawal form, and that they hadn’t known I would pay for my own flight home.

From the moment I arrived, I begged every officer I saw to let me pay for my own ticket home. Not a single one of them ever spoke to me about my case.

To put things into perspective: I had a Canadian passport, lawyers, resources, media attention, friends, family and even politicians advocating for me. Yet, I was still detained for nearly two weeks.

Imagine what this system is like for every other person in there.

A small group of us were transferred back to San Diego at 2am – one last road trip, once again shackled in chains. I was then taken to the airport, where two officers were waiting for me. The media was there, so the officers snuck me in through a side door, trying to avoid anyone seeing me in restraints. I was beyond grateful that, at the very least, I didn’t have to walk through the airport in chains.

To my surprise, the officers escorting me were incredibly kind, and even funny. It was the first time I had laughed in weeks.

I asked if I could put my shoelaces back on.

“Yes,” one of them said with a grin. “But you better not run.”

“Yeah,” the other added. “Or we’ll have to tackle you in the airport. That’ll really make the headlines.”

I laughed, then told them I had spent a lot of time observing the guards during my detention and I couldn’t believe how often I saw humans treating other humans with such disregard. “But don’t worry,” I joked. “You two get five stars.”

When I finally landed in Canada, my mom and two best friends were waiting for me. So was the media. I spoke to them briefly, numb and delusional from exhaustion.

It was surreal listening to my friends recount everything they had done to get me out: working with lawyers, reaching out to the media, making endless calls to detention centers, desperately trying to get through to Ice or anyone who could help. They said the entire system felt rigged, designed to make it nearly impossible for anyone to get out.

The reality became clear: Ice detention isn’t just a bureaucratic nightmare. It’s a business. These facilities are privately owned and run for profit.

Companies like CoreCivic and GEO Group receive government funding based on the number of people they detain, which is why they lobby for stricter immigration policies. It’s a lucrative business: CoreCivic made over $560m from Ice contracts in a single year. In 2024, GEO Group made more than $763m from Ice contracts.

The more detainees, the more money they make. It stands to reason that these companies have no incentive to release people quickly. What I had experienced was finally starting to make sense.

#christofascists #ice raids #mass deportations #trump regime #canada us relations #police state #dictatorship #antifascist #the future we were promised

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cosmic-dust-poltergeist · 1 month ago

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Thinking about a forever teen Danny interacting with the batfam.. again lmao

[Pt 2 here]

The first time Danny interacted with a Bat was when he was squatting in what he assumed was an abandoned apartment in crime alley. Spoiler alert; it wasn't abandoned! It was, in fact, Red Hood's safe house.

Danny had been napping on the "surprisingly nice" bed, (The bed being so nice should have tipped him off, but he was so tired, damnit.) when Red Hood enters the room, startling Danny awake. They stare at each other for a minute, since neither expected to see another person there. Danny breaks the moment by diving off the bed, snatching up his backpack, and launching himself out the window he had crawled in from. Danny ignores the cussing and calling for him to wait.

Danny ain't no fool. Just because the world seems to be mostly accepting of metas and aliens, doesn't mean they're accepting of him. They haven't repealed the Ecto-Acts in the last 30 years. He refuses to be a lab rat for some shady government because a "hero" wants to "save" him. He's older than most of these fuckers in spandex, and is technically a king, so they got no authority over him.

"Kid! Come back!" Red Hood is keeping up rather well, but not well enough.

"Eat shit!" Danny shouts back before using his small size to squeeze into a space between 2 run down buildings that can't even count as an alley. Red Hood can't fit by a long shot, so he grapples to the roof, probably hoping to cut Danny off. Unfortunately for Red Hood, Danny isn't going that way or back. No, there's a secret passage entrance Danny throws himself through.

He doesn't like being down there. Too many undead roam the halls and can sense him. He's not sure how to help them and currently can't access the realms to ask Frostbite, so he just gives them some of his ectoplasum and tries to get out before their "Masters" notice him. He feels guilty every time.

But all in all, his first accidental Bat meeting was less than 10 minutes.

The second Bat he "meets" is the stabby new Robin. Danny figured crime alley was a bust, so he'd try one of the nicer areas to not cross paths with Red Hood. Unfortunately, the shady building he decided to sleep in the rafters of got invaded by the Bats a few days later. He's not sure who else was there, but Robin ended up in the same rafters.

They stare at each other for a minute, just taking in the other person who's not supposed to be in these rafters. Robin is clearly sneaking in to bust the owners, and Danny looks like some scruffy homeless kid that was just sleeping.

"What are you doing here?" Robin whispers with a scowl.

"I was sleeping." Danny scowls right back.

"Why are you sleeping here?"

"What does it look like? Not all of us have sugar daddies, bird boy."

Was that mean? Yes. Should he act like the 44 year old he technically is? Yeah, but he's frozen at 14. He can be a brat. No one can stop him. And also, this is the second time a Bat has woken him up from a nap, the first time was only a week ago. He's not feeling very mature.

Robin grits his teeth before his com goes off, distracting him, and Danny takes advantage of that, grabs his shit and phases through the wall into the next building.

The third time he meets a Bat is truly his undoing. He got stabbed in front of Nightwing during an attempted mugging. He hates the universe and totally blames Clockwork.

Danny was minding his own business when he got dragged into an alley by 3 drunk men. They're holding knives and trying their best to intimate him.

"Give us all your money."

"Do I look like I have money?" Danny snarks, waving a hand in a "look at me" way. Which, yeah, he's pulling off the homeless kid look really well with how dirty and worn out his clothes. No one in their right mind would look at him and think he has money.

"Hm. Well, if you don't have money, I can think of something else you can give us."

"Yeah, please struggle. It makes it more fun." Well, shit, Danny was not expecting to be grabbed by pedos. Danny bare gets to think about how it'll be good stress relief to break all the bones in their limbs before a tall shadowy figure drops from the roof and lands on the attacker farthest from him. The landing breaks the pedo's leg, his screamings about it are cut off by a sharp punch to the face.

When the shadowy figure straightens and is revealed to be Nightwing, pedo #2 charges him. Between how poorly it goes for him and all the puns and quips Nightwing is making, Danny can't help the giggles that slips out.

"You think this is funny, brat??" Pedo #3 shouts at him.

"Yeah. It's hilarious." Danny maliciously grins at him.

"Why you, just die, whore." And before Danny can question how HE's a whore, he's been stabbed. And it's a pretty good stab if you want to kill someone. It's a jagged downward stab, it nicks his heart and completely fucks up one of his lungs, and the guy even goes the extra step of pulling the knife out. All in all. The perfect stab to kill someone.

Unfortunately for him, Danny isn't just someone. He's already mostly dead, which means while it hurts like a bitch and it's hard to breath, it won't kill him. It does suck he coughs up some blood before he turns off his need to breathe.

Danny ignores the cussing and sounds of Nightwing breaking bones, probably panicking over just seeing "a kid get murdered". And unfortunately, no breathing means no talking in this form. So the poor guy can't be verbally told Danny's fine, and to stop freaking out. Good thing saying something isn't always needed.

Danny lets his eyes turn a glowing bright green before silently stepping to his would-be murderer.

"What?? What the fuck??" Pedo #3 screeches. Danny gives him a blood filled smile before reaching up, grabbing the wrist of the hand holding the knife. He breaks the guy's arm in less than a second, before slamming him into the disgusting alley ground and proceeds to break both of his legs. The way Danny crashed the bones in these limbs means the guy is never going to have full mobility again, but Danny can't even pretend to care. The man targeted what looked like a scrawny 14 year old homeless kid to rape and murder. If anything, Danny is letting him off easy.

"K-kid? Are you okay? What am I saying? Of course not." Nightwing frets and tries to get closer, but Danny is tired of... well everything, so he just turns and books it out of the alley. Danny ignores Nightwing's frantic shouting as he twists and turns out of the man's sight long enough to pull up his invisibility without outing the power. He watches a panicked Nightwing run by before tapping into his flight and taking off to the nearest graveyard. Sitting in the ambient ectoplasum there while drinking what he has left in his thermos will speed up his healing.

He'd so leave this shithole of a city if he could. But Lady Gotham won't let him go and he's positive Clockwork is working with her to keep him there. He doesn't know what they're planning, but he hates it already.

---

After the stabbing, Nightwing and the other two must have spilled about him, because he's suddenly dodging Bats everywhere he goes. He starts developing even worse paranoia because they just won't take a hint.

Talking was a no go at first with his healing lung, but running away, swiping claws, biting, and throwing shit at them aren't exactly subtly "Leave Me The Fuck Alone!!" vibes. Once his lung is healed, you can add in cussing, hissing, spitting, and verbally telling them to fuck off. None of it works. It fact, Danny thinks they like the challenge, which is annoying, but slowly becoming amusing.

Though, even just the idea of him starting to enjoy something means the universe has to throw a curve ball. And this one takes the form of a scarecrow attack.

So admittedly, Danny had no idea what fear toxin would do to him, but Joker's toxins didn't do anything to him, so he thought it'd be the same shit. That was a stupid mistake on his part.

He didn't bother holding his breath when helping the Panicked Bats get civilians out of the attack radius. Any mask that was given to him was given to a civilian before he passed them off to someone with an antidote.

But to be fair, the effects of his mistake doesn't hit him til after the fight is over and the civilians are taken care of. It starts with his paranoia raising. He's suddenly eyeing the people and buildings around him. He can FEEL his parents' gaze on him, even though he knows that's impossible, they died because the portal finally blew up and took them and half the town with it. No one who died as humans from it became ghosts, and the people who were already ghosts died a second time. The only reason Danny and Tucker weren't there was because they were gift shopping for Jazz on the other side of town while Sam distracted her. It was one of the worst days of his life. It's tied with the day his parents vivisecting his ghost half and the day the GIW vivisected Vlad and him, and Vlad just straight up died from it in front of him.

That's relevant because Danny starts hallucinating a half melted Sam and Jazz (there were no bodies left behind, but his brain likes to torment him), he can't understand what they're trying to say to him, but there's the unmistakable sound of an ectoblaster echoing in his ear behind him and he... just bolts. The agents that vivisected him launch themselves at him (he doesn't process the "agents" look exactly the same as when he last saw them 24 years ago), but Danny is determined to NEVER be caught again.

He freezes when melted versions of his parents, wearing maniac grins and holding sparking weapons, cut him off. The moment they so much as twitch towards him, he bolts straight through a building using his intangibility.

A tiny part of his brain is trying to reason with him. There's no way anything he's seeing is real. This is what fear toxin is known to do. Stop and evaluate the situation!

But it's drownt out by the fear. And, ancients, is there a lot of fear. It suffocates his logical thoughts and makes him forget how to properly use his powers to escape.

He finds out later, it took the Bats 2 hours to get close enough to give him the antidote and another hour for it to kick in. They honestly thought it didn't work at first, because just like the toxin, the antidote took it's sweet time to work on him.

He crashed out hard once it did, though. Like, he fell unconscious and stopped breathing. It terrified the Bats and took them a minute to realize he's not actually dead. Well, full dead.

He finds out eventually that they originally thought he was a meta, but after all the weirdness he accidentally showed during the cat and mouse chase, they started to wonder if he was an alien. But the whole fear toxin incident convince them he escaped from some shady organization that experimented on him (not untrue) and killed his family. There's still a bet on if he's an alien or not, and that being why he was targeted.

Which is a fair conclusion, between his powers that seemingly make no sense and all his scars from fighting and being experimented on by both his parents And a shady government agency. It's especially fair after he has a major freak out coming to in the Batcave's med bay. The smells and medical equipment setting him off into a massive panic attack that leaves him behaving like a feral cat. He manages to squeeze himself into the small space between the top of the cabinets and the ceiling and growls at anyone so much as peeking into the room.

"Hey, kid. You're alright. You're safe." Nightwing tries and gets hissed at. He'd been trying for about 10 minutes to get him to come down. "Um, guys, maybe someone else should try. This isn't working. I don't think he likes me at all."

Black Bat steps into the room at his plea and waves Nightwing away. Once he's out of the room, she drops to the floor. The move confuses Danny enough to stop growling at her. He stares wide-eyed at her as she just lays full starfish on the floor.

"What are you doing?" He finally asks after 3 full minutes of silently staring at her.

"Laying."

"I see that, but why?"

"You're scared. I'm showing I'm not a threat." Black Bat sounds amused, but not malicious. Danny stares at her for another 2 minutes without blinking once.

"Why am I here?"

"You're scared. We want to help." She makes it sound simple.

"You can't." Danny lets bitterness leak into his voice.

"Why?"

"I'm not human anymore. You can't "help" me."

"I think we can." Danny starts growling again, so she adds. "We have beds and food and can keep whoever is hunting you away."

He pauses his growling again. "You don't even know who I am."

"You're sad, and hurt, and help others before yourself. You're good." Danny frowns at that.

"You're weird." He states before climbing down and sitting near her. She doesn't move a muscle. "You can't help me without getting in trouble with the government."

"Hm?"

"Yeah, I'm not considered a person because of the Anti-Ecto Acts. Anything that uses or needs ectoplasum to survive is considered non-sentient and is to be turned over for experimentation and termination. And anyone caught helping us can be arrested for treason." Danny explains. "I barely escaped when I got caught. My godfather didn't. I hated him. He was mean, controlling, and creepy, but I didn't want him to die."

"I'm sorry."

"My problems are not your problems."

"I disagree." Danny blinks at her, his gaze sharpening when she starts moving her arm farthest from him. She moves slowly, reaching up and hooking her fingers under her mask.

"Wait!" Danny leans forward a hair as if he was about to physically grab her hand to stop her, but jerks himself back. He sounds small when he speaks again. "Are-are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Why??"

"Trust you."

"But WHY? You don't know me."

"I know enough." Is all she says before pulling her mask off. He slams his eyes shut and claps his hands over them for good measure.

"No, you don't!!" He hears her move, sitting up, before gentle hands pull his hands away.

"Yes, I do." She says sweetly. "Look."

Danny peeks at her. She has a bittersweet look on her face that brightens when she sees Danny looking. She's still gently holding his hands, loose enough he can pull away if he truly wants to.

"I'm not as young as I look." She tilts her head at the seemingly random comment. "I'm not actually 14. Not anymore. I'm stuck at when I died."

He hears her, and their eavesdroppers, gasp. It's the first time he's talked about it. But something tells him to tell her (them, if he's acknowledging the eavesdropping Bats).

"My parents were mad scientists that wouldn't be out of place in your rouges gallery." He stares at his and Black Bat's hands. "They were obsessed with ghosts and made a portal to the infinite realm, where "ghosts" live. They failed twice. Once in college, my godfather was hospitalized from the attempt, and the second time they failed, I accidentally turned it while being stupid with friends and died. They didn't notice, too happy their portal was suddenly working... That was 30 years ago."

There's a choking noise from the eavesdroppers.

"If I stay, you're going to be stuck with a freaky kid that doesn't age and can't be killed by the usual methods and has so much PTSD, like a ridiculous amount of PTSD. Are you sure you want to deal with that?"

"Yes." Black Bat doesn't even hesitate. Danny nearly gives himself whiplash from how quickly he looks up at her face. "Can't scare us away."

"It should. I don't even count as human."

"So?"

""So"???"

"Yes. Why should I care?"

"Why should-??? Why wouldn't you???"

"Kid." An unmasked Red Hood stands in the doorway. "This family is full of freaks and mental illness. You'll fit right in."

The statement strikes a nerve, overwhelming him, but Danny doesn't understand what's happening at first, why his lips are trembling, his face feels warm, and his eyes sting. He hasn't felt this sensation in years. But whatever look on his face makes the infamous Red Hood panic.

"Wait! Kid! Don't cry!"

It suddenly clicks with Danny. He's about to cry. But understanding what is happening, doesn't stop it from happening. Fat tears start sliding down his face.

"Dickie! What do I do?? I accidentally made him cry!! You're better wi-" Red Hood cuts himself off when Danny starts laughing. Laughing at how panicked a crimelord is at tears. Laughing at crying. Laughing at the whole absurd situation.

"It's okay." Black Bat says softly. Whether it's to Danny or the panicky Bat is lost to Danny. But no one says anything else til Danny's tears stop and laughter dies down.

"I was Phantom, ya know?" And he hears several people choke. After he was forcibly retired, this ghost half became known as "The First Hero" in a lot of circles. The GIW repressed the fact he was a ghost when people outside of Amity Park found out about the child hero, they didn't want the public angry with them for making him disappear. It didn't work, Tucker leaked everything he could find. Danny doesn't blame him for that. Tucker thinks he's completely dead since the GIW didn't want to admit they lost him and declared him to have Ended in those files. Danny hasn't told him he's "alive" either. Danny can't bring himself to drag Tucker back into the mess that is his life, can't bring himself to contact the man who has made something of his life, has a partner and kids, has mourned and moved on. He just can't do it. "But before I was Phantom, I was Danny Fenton. But now... I'm just Danny."

"Welcome to the family, Danny!" An unmasked Nightwing cheers.

"I thought Phantom had white hair?" Someone says just outside the room. Danny mischievously leans towards Black Bat.

"Close your eyes. This is going to be bright." He whispers. She smiles gamely and closes her eyes. He gets to hear the others yelp when he lets his transformation take over, essentially flashbanging everyone, but Black Bat.

"Wha..?"

"Hair white enough for you?" Danny says, grinning with too many teeth, that are a little too sharp. Black Bat pats the hand she's still holding.

"Pretty." She smiles delighted at him and he feels his face flush bright green.

"Oh! Um.. Thanks?" He takes a deep breath and realizes something. "Now you know my name, so who the hell are all of you?"

"You don't recognize us?"

"No. Am I supposed to?"

"Eh, most people do." Nightwing shrugs.

"Well, I haven't been able to keep up with much in the public zeitgeist. I just periodically check if it's still legal to kill me. Sadly, the answer is "yes" every time, so meh."

"We'll be taking care of that." Red Robin informs him while stepping into the room and frantically typing on a tablet. "I can't believe these stupid things still exist. The Green Lanterns and Justice League Dark are going to have the biggest fit when they see these. The rest of the JL will help dismantle these too. I'll personally get them to destroy these vile laws."

"Oh.. Thanks, I guess. It'll be nice to not be hunted anymore."

"I imagine."

"Okay! Introductions!" Nightwing gets them all back on topic. "I'm Dick Grayson! Batman is Bruce Wayne. Robin is Damian Wayne."

"Tim Drake."

"Cassandra Cain. But call me Cass."

"Jason Todd."

"Wait, wait, wait. I recognize your name! Didn't you- oh, wait, that's insensitive..."

"It's fine. I did, in fact, die, but I got better. We can start a club of undead. We can invite Spoiler. She technically died, too."

"Literally everyone here, besides me has died, Jason." Tim says, not looking away from the tablet.

"Yeah, but Steph is the only one I'd invite. She knows how to have fun."

"Little wing!" Dick whines.

"Timber can be an honorary member, since he's dead inside, a fun chaos gremlin, and ain't a narc."

"Thanks." Tim says dryly while Dick dramatically cries. Cass giggles.

And Danny? He's tired of running. He wants to be able to be the child he's stuck as while getting respect over his knowledge. He wants to be a vigilante and help people again. He wants to finally have a safe place to sleep.

So he decides to give these weirdos a chance.

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lisenberry · 9 months ago

Text

Feral Friday 141 Thoughts

NSFW/MDNI/18+

When you really need to ride him...

...He’s sitting on the couch, watching the day’s match. Knees spread wide and taking up half the cushions. You’re cuddled under his arm with your feet tucked up, reading a book or a download on your phone. It’s in the middle of a steamy scene in your latest bodice-ripper. After chapters’ worth of fighting and resisting, the heroine is finally going to come all over the big mean villain’s engorged appendage.

You’re so engrossed, you’re sure he can feel your breath change and your cheek heat up where it rests against his chest. Can he sense your arousal as it dampens your knickers underneath the old, softened t-shirt you claimed from his bedroom floor the first time you slept over?

When the whistle sounds to end the half, you vaguely notice, until he stirs next to you. “Hey, babe? We got any snacks?”

“Umm, I th-think so.” You pull your attention away just in time to meet his eyes. And he immediately knows.

“Got yourself a good one there, do you?” You’ve bitten your lips raw, you’re sweating, and your chest is nearly heaving with lust as you nod desperately.

“Do you mind if I take the edge off?” You squeeze your thighs together and feel the slick dripping past the fabric.

“Your finger or mine?” he asks, keeping one eye on the telly and one on you as your maneuver out of your underwear.

“I’m going to need something a bit more this time,” you nearly whine as you launch onto his lap, careful not to headbutt his chin in your urgency.

GAZ – He doesn't miss a beat as you nestle your excited little pussy just over his cock. He’s already rock-hard and it doesn’t take much to pull him out from the sweatpants he wears slung low on his hips.

“Take what you need, love.” He smiles proudly as you drop down onto him, slipping and sliding on your own slick.

And you do, pitching forward to settle him against the bundle of nerves deep in your belly. He’s so long, he doesn’t just graze it, he impales it. You swear he’s in your lungs, stealing your breath with each rise and fall.

He cheers you on the whole way.

“Look at you bouncing so well on my cock...So pretty all flushed and sweaty...Fucking hot, you are.”

Your unfairly handsome, quick-tongued rake tenderly wipes the hair and perspiration from your face, and lets you use him until you're shattered and worn out.

SOAP: He lets you grind against him for a bit through his gym shorts, dick fully chubbed like the pommel of a saddle.

“Please tell me it’s a Scottish highland warrior that’s got you so bothered, and not some prissy English lord. You’ll hurt my feelings.” He grins, his eyes already rolling back in his head at your steady stroking.

“Keep talking, Johnny.” You hump against him faster, knowing the second you put him in, you’ll be done for. A weeping, overstimulated mess before he even catches his stride. His burly, veiny length has an upwards curve like he was molded and kiln-forged just to fit you.

And he could go for hours if you didn’t wind him up good. Tease him and test him, get his attention exactly where it needs to be.

“Let me suck on your tits, bonny lass.” He deepens his brogue and his voice an octave as he tries not to laugh, while he strips your shirt off and buries his face into your bosom.

You are quite sure that the hot-headed highland scoundrel in your story didn’t use the word ‘tits’, but you let it slide. The one between your thighs is everything you need, and more.

GHOST – He’s wearing jeans, so it’s a bit harder to get him free. After you let out a frustrated huff at the complexity of his wardrobe, he cups you under your ass and stands you both up. Undoing his belt buckle and the fly one-handed before setting you back down astride him again.

“Needy little dove today.”

“Just let me try, Si.” You rarely ever ride him. The few times you’ve attempted it, you give up when your thighs turn to mush and your cunt aches from being split in two. He’s just too thick for a quickie.

“Are you going to let me help this time, or are you going to be stubborn?”

“Help!” The strangled sound escapes your throat as you fit him in to the hilt. He takes up so much space, you can’t tell where you end and he begins.

“You’re fucking soaked.” He rolls his hips to stretch you further, to find the right spot, as your slick trickles down to coat his balls. You feel them wet and sticky against your seam.

“Mmmh-uhhh, that’s it. Right there,” you bellow gratefully to the ceiling.

“What are you going to do about it?” He grabs your hips rudely, fingers pressing to dimple the skin and hold you down as he spears your nerves like a spike.

You fight against his hold, knowing that’s what he's looking for. Just a little fire in your belly, a little steel in your spine and your merciless, battle-scarred rogue will give you anything you want.

“That’s it, dovey. Fuck me good.”

PRICE – He’s watching you with awe, wide-eyed and slack jawed, so immersed in the act of being milked by your warm, soft walls that he’s relinquished control completely. You know that look too well.

“Do not come yet, John. Please. Think of bullets. Hollow points and grenades. A...ummm, a panzer!” You’re almost there. So...close your mind is just pulling words from memories of past conversations you were only barely listening to.

“A panzer? Like the bloody old German tank?” he asks with the sort of clarity of mind you need of him in this situation.

“Yes, keep thinking of dusty relics rotting in museums. While I ride your big, beautiful cock—”

“You’ve done it now.” He groans, and you feel him stiffen inside you. The sensation of it, coupled with the hot spurts of his spend hitting your most sensitive spot, get you there just in time to join him.

You don’t even mind that it was so quick. It warms your heart, and your cunt, that the callous, domineering war hero falls to pieces so completely for no one but you.

#call of duty #captain john price #price x reader #captain john price x reader #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #johnny soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #cod smut

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aventurineswife · 2 months ago

Note

I ssaw that ur requests are open fr a bit and that u opened zzz requests so imma shoot my shot (hehe)

Harumasa, Seth and maybe Hugo (I don't know much about him but I'm biased cuz he's voiced by Jun fukuyama so sue me XD) or wise (tho I'm not sure about wise since he doesn't have fangs) giving playful love bites whenever they're happy.

Them with their s/o having a good time just staying indoors either playing video games, cuddling, or doing anything fun (maybe an arcade date where they play games together like the mini games in zzz, or an at home candle lit dinner idk XP) and when they feel extremely happy nuzzling up to them, they just give a bite~

And if they hurt, they will do that thing that cats do, where they lick or kiss the area they hurt... Only to chomp elsewhere X3c

~🍮

Affection, but with Teeth

Tags: Harumasa x Reader, Seth x Reader, Hugo x Reader, Fluff, Playful Biting, Domestic Romance, Teasing & Banter, Light Angst (implied backstories), Affectionate Men, Cat-Like Behavior, Established Relationship, Humor.

Warnings: Mild biting (playful, not harmful), Light suggestive teasing (mostly Hugo), Mentions of food/eating (if relevant for food-sensitive readers), Minor swearing (?), Might be ooc.

A/N: Thank you for making another ZZZ request! 🤭🙏 I tried my best... though I probably wrote them very ooc. I've seen that seth has the same va as Alhaitham and hugo's kr va is Dan heng I think, I'm not sure... 🧍‍♀️

Harumasa wasn’t the type to go out of his way for extravagant dates. He preferred efficiency, and to him, the best kind of date was one that required minimal effort but maximum enjoyment. So when you suggested a cozy day indoors, playing games and just lounging around, he had no objections.

You sat on the couch, controller in hand, as the two of you played through one of the many arcade-style games from Random Play. Harumasa, half-laying across your lap with his own controller lazily balanced on his stomach, let out a small yawn. "If I win this round, you have to go make coffee for me," he murmured, eyes half-lidded yet still calculating his next move.

"Oh, is that so?" You smirked. "And if I win?"

"You get bragging rights."

"That’s a terrible deal."

Before you could argue further, he launched a sneak attack in the game, completely wiping your character out. Harumasa gave a satisfied hum, stretching lazily as he turned to look at you with a smug grin. "Looks like you’re making coffee—"

Chomp.

You yelped when you felt sharp teeth gently press against your shoulder. He didn’t bite too hard, just enough to make you flinch, and before you could react, he lazily licked the same spot in a mock attempt to soothe it.

"You—!"

But just as you were about to scold him, he struck again—this time on your wrist, grinning against your skin. "Mmm. You taste like victory."

"You menace."

"Hm? I’m just expressing my joy in the most efficient way." His voice was laced with amusement, and he gave one last, playful nibble before settling back into your lap like nothing happened. "Now, about that coffee…"

Going to the arcade with Seth was always a fun experience—he was passionate, competitive, and absolutely terrible at keeping a low profile. He wasn’t the best at stealth games, but give him a fighting or racing game, and he would pour his entire soul into it.

"Alright, final round!" Seth declared, gripping the arcade controls with unshakable determination. "If I win, I get the last slice of pizza when we get home!"

"Deal," you agreed, smirking.

The match was intense, pixelated characters clashing in a battle of reflexes and skill. You held your own, but Seth had sheer enthusiasm on his side, and in a dramatic final move, he won.

"YES!" He practically jumped in place, tail flicking behind him in excitement. "Did you see that?! I actually pulled it off!"

You chuckled, watching him vibrate with happiness—then yelped as he suddenly leaned in and gave a quick, playful chomp to your shoulder.

"Seth!"

He blinked at you, ears twitching, before quickly pressing a kiss to the same spot. "Sorry! I didn’t mean to bite that hard!"

"...So you admit that was on purpose?"

"Uhhh," he hesitated, then suddenly chomp—this time on your wrist.

"Seth!"

He laughed, pulling back slightly but keeping his hands on yours. "I dunno, I just got so happy! You don’t get mad when cats do it!"

"Yeah, but you’re not a cat, Seth."

"Debatable," he grinned.

You sighed, rubbing your wrist with mock exasperation before ruffling his hair. He purred—actually purred—and leaned into your touch. "Fine, you win. Enjoy your last slice of pizza."

"Hell yeah!"

(But the moment he looked away, you took a sneaky bite of his pizza anyway. He totally deserved it.)

Spending a quiet evening with Hugo was always a refined yet subtly mischievous experience. He had a way of making even the simplest moments feel elegant, yet you knew better than to let your guard down entirely.

Tonight, he had surprised you with a beautifully set dinner—candlelight flickering against fine wine glasses, soft classical music playing in the background. It was almost too perfect, and you gave him a knowing look. "Are you trying to impress me?"

"Would it be so wrong if I was?" Hugo smirked, sipping his wine with effortless grace. "Besides, I rather enjoy treating you to things like this."

Dinner went smoothly, filled with pleasant conversation and the occasional flirtation. But it was when you made an offhand comment about how charming he looked under candlelight that he tilted his head with a playful gleam in his sharp eyes.

"Oh? Flattery, my dear?"

"It’s not flattery if it’s true," you teased.

He chuckled, leaning closer across the table. "Then allow me to show my appreciation."

Before you could react, he gently took your wrist, bringing it to his lips. And then—

Chomp.

It wasn’t painful, just a teasing press of his fangs against your skin, but the suddenness of it made you yelp. "Hugo!"

He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to the spot he bit, only to immediately sink his teeth into another spot higher up your arm.

You shot him a glare. "You’re doing that on purpose."

"Of course I am," he admitted shamelessly, smirking. "It’s rather endearing how you react."

"You’re lucky you’re charming."

"That is the general consensus," he mused. "Now, would you like dessert? I promise not to bite."

"Liar."

He simply chuckled, reaching for your hand once more.

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tuiccim · 2 months ago

Text

A Little Jelly(fish)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1768

Warnings: Fluff

Summary: Your hobby attracts the attention of a handsome super soldier.

A/N: Special thanks to my hype princess & beta reader @whisperlullaby.

Sitting in the common room, you were so close to finishing the crochet project you had undertaken. It would hopefully turn into a large, stuffed jellyfish for a friend's baby shower gift. The baby's bedroom was under the sea themed, and you hoped your homemade creation would be a fun addition. Now, you were working on crocheting the frilly tentacles and attaching them. It was a quiet day and you were enjoying a bit of calm with just some quiet piano music playing as you moved the hook.

"Whatcha got there?"

You jump at the sound and then turn with an embarrassed little laugh to face Bucky, "You startled me. I was in my own little world."

"Sorry, doll," he smiles with just a hint of mischief in his eyes.

"Mm-hm," you smirk. "It's a gift for a friend's baby shower. It'll hopefully turn into a jellyfish. Their room is ocean themed." You felt a little sheepish as you explained. You don't know Bucky well and try to hide your surprise when he sits next to you.

"That's really cool of you to make a gift. I'd be curious to see it when it's done," he says.

"Thanks for saying that. I was kinda wondering if it might seem cheap or stupid to make the gift. I'll make sure to show it to you before I wrap it up,"

"When's the party?" Bucky fiddles with the end of the tentacle you're working on.

"Two weeks," you answer before laughing, "I actually have this baby shower, another one a few weeks after, and two weddings in the next two months. I'm gonna go broke if I don't make at least one of the gifts."

"Are you going to make another one for the other baby shower?" Bucky asks as he watches your hands.

"No, it's more of a sprinkle than a shower. It's their third baby so we're just doing diapers and wipes for gifts," you explain.

"Wow, three," Bucky's eyebrows rise.

"Yeah, it's a lot but they're great parents. Do you have any hobbies?" You feel inexplicably self-conscious talking about babies and attempt to change the subject.

"Yeah. I like to read, work on my bike. I build models sometimes," he shrugs.

"What kind of models? Like cars or planes?" You ask.

"Uh, sometimes," he scratches his neck as if embarrassed, "Spaceships more often." His cheeks tint a little pink.

"That's cool. I love space. I'm always so interested when NASA releases new photos and information about the universe. I especially like the pictures of the nebulas. There's an abstract beauty to them," you smile at him.

"Exactly. I'm always interested when they find new planets or stars. Black holes," Bucky says excitedly.

"It's so vast. I wonder if one day we’ll see a planet with satellites and space debris. A world similar to ours. I mean, we know there’s life out there now but I’m still curious to see if we ever find one. I’m sorry. I sound crazy.”

“Not at all. I agree with you,” Bucky launches into some of the things he got to see in Wakanda that fascinated him and you ended up talking with him for over an hour before it was time for you to go. With another promise to show him the finished product, you head out to your meeting.

–

Several days later, you timidly knock on Bucky’s door. You had the crocheted jellyfish in hand to show him. You heard what sounded like a minor tussle behind the door and leaned closer to listen.

“Oh, no, you don’t! You can’t get away from me that easily,” Bucky’s voice can be heard before a sudden bump against the door had you jumping back. “Damn cat!” He growls aggravatedly before opening the door while rubbing his chest as if injured. When he looks up, surprise registers and he straightens quickly, “Oh, hi.”

“Uh, hey. Is- is this a bad time?” You ask with concern.

“Fine. Great. What, uh, brings you by?” He smiles nervously.

You hold up the jellyfish awkwardly, “I finished it. Um…”

“Oh my god, it’s so cute! Look at it,” Bucky smiles brightly as he holds his hands out. You readily hand over the stuffed animal, “I made it so it can be hung up until the baby is a little older.”

“That’s such a good idea. I’m so impressed,” he enthuses.

“Oh, thank you,” you smile pleased but slightly embarrassed. “It really wasn’t that difficult-Ow!” You look down to find a beautiful cat swatting at the jellyfish’s dangly legs. Unfortunately, her last swipe went right across your leg leaving three thin lines of blood.

“No! Alpine, no!” Bucky swoops down to pick up the cat but then ends up comically holding the jellyfish as far as possible from the flailing cat determined to capture the legs.

You bite your lip to keep from laughing as you retrieve the jellyfish and quickly stuff it into your bag. The cat, apparently named Alpine, calmed as it realized playtime was over. Though she did look aggrieved at losing the new toy. “Well, hello, I usually request that drawing blood waits until the second meeting but I guess you’re more of a draw blood first, ask questions later, cat, huh?”

“I’m so sorry! I was just trying to clip her nails before you knocked. Let me get you a bandage,” he turns away and you can hear him whisper to the cat, “You are in SO much trouble.”

You giggle to yourself at the adorable display and then straighten your face quickly as he makes his way back with a cloth and bandage in hand. You reach for them but he pulls back.

“Here, let me,” he reaches down.

“Really, it’s nothing. I can do it. Thank you,” you reassure him.

“I’m sorry. Do you want to come in?” Bucky gestures to the interior.

“No, thank you. I was just stopping by to show you now that I’m finished. I should be going,” you smile as you take the bandage from his hand. “See you later.”

“Thanks for showing me, doll. Bye,” Bucky watches as you leave but then shakes himself and closes the door quickly.

–

You berate yourself with each stitch you make of the silly project you had set for yourself. As the hook moves quickly in your hand, you tell yourself how pathetic this little crush on Bucky is and that making a stupid crocheted present for his cat is an act of desperation he would immediately see through. But your hands just kept making the necessary loops.

After your little encounter with Alpine you had decided that making her a catnip stuffed jellyfish would be a great way to use up some of your scrap yarn. It would be a smaller version of the one you had made and wonky looking from all the different yarns but you were sure it would make the cat happy. Even if it made you look like an idiot.

When it was finished, it sat on your desk and mocked you for not dropping it off. You were nervous and felt stupid for even making it. What if he hated it? Worse, what if Alpine hated it? What if he figured out your motive? Did he already know about your schoolgirl crush? He would probably see right through this gesture and you’d never be able to face him again.

You should just take it to him and say ‘Here is my desperate attempt to get you to talk to me because I think you’re amazing’ and then you could just die from the embarrassment and not have to worry about it anymore. You shake your head at the stupid thought. You considered finding a gift bag but felt that was too formal for the simple gift. Instead you grabbed it so it’s very presence would no longer send you into your own head. You doggedly march to Bucky’s door and then knock gently. As soon as the door opens, your mind goes completely blank and you just stare at him.

“Hi. What’s going on, doll?” Bucky’s brow furrows as he studies you.

“Uh, I, um, hi. I’m sorry. I, um, I,” clamping your mouth shut, you close your eyes, take a deep breath and start again, “I made this for Alpine.” You hold out the crocheted jellyfish with a smile pasted on. You felt like an idiot.

Bucky looks down at the colorful cat-sized toy and smiles broadly, “This is amazing, doll! Let’s find her.”

Before you realize what’s happening, Bucky grabs your hand and pulls you along behind him until he locates the cat. She was laid in a sliver of sunlight on the floor making her white fur look luminous. At his approach, Alpine lifts her head and within seconds of him jiggling the toy above her, is on her feet and batting at it. As soon as she catches it and manages to wrestle it away from Bucky, she takes a long sniff at the toy and then rolls her body over and around it.

“I think she likes it,” Bucky smiles at you.

“I’m so glad. I thought she might be a little jelly that the first one wasn’t for her, so I…” you shrug.

“Alpine, were you a little jelly you didn’t have a jelly?” He laughs. “That was really sweet of you to do that for her. Thanks,” he gives the hand he’s still holding a squeeze.

“Of course. I figured it would be a good way to use up some old yarn,” you nod and wonder if you should keep holding his hand or let go.

“Yeah. Sorry,” he says sheepishly as he lets go of your hand.

“Oh, I didn’t mind. Anyway, I just thought I’d bring it by,” you fidget with your hands and turn for the door, “So-”

“Would you like to go out to dinner?” Bucky interrupts.

“Wh-what?” You stammer.

“Like on a date? With me?” Bucky raises his brows hopefully.

“Um, yeah, I’d like that,” you smile, trying to hold in the surge of giddiness that washes over you.

“I’ve been wanting to ask you that for weeks,” he confesses with a sigh of relief.

“Really?” You ask.

“You didn’t know? I figured I’d made an idiot of myself trying to get opportunities to talk to you. I was worried you’d think I was a menace,” he blushes.

“I’d never think that of you.”

“Are you free tonight? I admit, I’ll be a little jelly if you’re not,” Bucky grins.

“No need to be jelly. I’m all yours,” you smile.

Updates and taglist: Due to the unreliable nature of tags, I no longer keep a taglist. Please follow my sideblog @tuiccimfanfiction and turn on notifications for updates. All series and new stories will be reblogged to it. You will only receive notifications when a new part or story is out! Nothing else will be blogged to the page. I can’t thank you enough for your support!

Tags: @badassbaker @rebekahdawkins@learisa @liebs82 @blackkflamecandle @saiyanprincessswanie @thejemersoninfernoo @thehumanistsdiary @supraveng @chrisevansbaby @randomfandompenguin@hiddles-rose @jbbarnesgirl@late-to-the-party-81 @bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky @ysmmsy @looking-for-another-world @colereads @happypopcornprincess@mrsbarnes107th @sebsgirl71479@palaiasaurus64@winterwitch-trash

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mayakern · 6 months ago

Text

I honestly don’t know how to write this; I have spent all week attempting to figure out what to say.

Last Monday I was informed by our factory that our merchandiser and direct point of contact with the factory passed away unexpectedly two weeks ago. She was someone who I have spent a great deal of time speaking to ever since we switched factories two years ago. She helped us realize designs for new products, sent us samples of garments extremely quickly and kept track of all our orders. She went to bat for us if something went wrong with our print shop or if I was unhappy with how a garment pattern was interpreted by their team. As their first American client and a brand that focuses on size inclusion, something that is not typical of their other clients, she handled a lot of crazy requests from us without blinking and she was dedicated to ensuring that both us and our customers were happy. We talked nearly every day, and though it was work related she was one of the kindest people I have had the pleasure interacting with daily.

She was beyond dedicated to her work and to working with us. Turkey has an 11-hour time difference from me in California, which means when she was emailing me at 2pm in the afternoon it was 1am there. You can sure bet that I extended her the same courtesy and tried my best to answer her emails at night too, even when I would rather just be sleeping.

It was also clear just how much she loved her job, and now much she loved you guys. She had been silently watching our social media since we first started working with them. She got just as excited as we did on launch days and would often email me unprompted about how she was glad people were leaving such positive comments and reviews. She read your feedback when no one ever asked her to do that or even expected it of her. She did it because she really, really cared.

Even though she was miles away and we never met in person, she was like a coworker to me and the loss of her is like losing someone on our team.

The Maya Kern team, as a whole, has been dealing with a lot lately. I personally just moved (which took far longer than we expected) and Maya and Devin are gearing up to move back to Minneapolis pretty soon. With the loss of our merchandizer, it has taken the wind out of my sails a little bit. I was trying to push through, even though I am exhausted, and carry out the photo shoot for our new products this weekend, but it has become clear that my body just can’t handle it. My arthritis has finally told me to stop moving, so unfortunately, we are going to have to reschedule the shoot for later on.

We are doing everything we can to make sure our next product drop on the 21st still happens. But as of right now, due to this sudden loss, the garments haven’t even shipped from the factory yet and I am not optimistic that they will clear customs and get checked into the fulfillment center in time for the launch. This means the drop is likely going to be pushed back to December 5th and instead of a full photo shoot, we will probably have to settle for taking quick photos of everyone at home, and likely with our phones.

We work really hard to deliver not just garments we believe in, but also pictures of said garments on bodies that our customers can relate to, and unfortunately I just do not think that is possible this time. As always, we really appreciate your patience and understanding during what has been a very difficult time for us.

Ash

Chief Operations Officer

#store #ash used substitute

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felassan · 2 years ago

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[source (Senior Reporter at Kotaku), linked Kotaku article, two, 'FC 24's performance link', three, four, @/N7SeveranceDay (source of the last two images, "Account supporting BioWare employees laid off in 2023."), five, six, Polygon tweet, Polygon article]

"BioWare Continues to Refuse to Pay Severance" statement transcript:

“BioWare Continues to Refuse to Pay Severance On August 23 of this year, BioWare eliminated “approximately 50 roles at BioWare”. Following the layoffs, seven ex-BioWare employees engaged the services of R. Alex Kennedy to represent their interests, stating that the amount of severance offered was insufficient under Alberta common law. Counsel for the employees has attempted to reach a compromise that would avoid requiring lengthy court proceedings, but BioWare’s lawyers refused any offers to negotiate and settle out of court. The basis of Kennedy’s claim is that according to Alberta precedents and under Canadian law, these employees should be receiving approximately 1.7 months of severance per year of service they gave to BioWare. BioWare has now filed a Statement of Defence, which argues that the seven terminated employees are only entitled to two weeks of severance per year spent in service to BioWare, because of a contract provision that Kennedy says is not enforceable. The filing means BioWare will be taking these former employees to court rather than working towards finding an out of court resolution. The developers involved in the suit have expressed their disappointment: - “We are disappointed that BioWare prefers stalling and intimidation tactics to fair dealing with people who have given years, and in some cases decades, of dedication and hard work to the company.” - “We believe they are using intimidation and stalling tactics to try and get us to drop out. A lot of the more junior employees and those with families, who had more monetary pressure on them, could not risk waiting on a court case that may take many months more to resolve, and have already had to drop out.” - “At the time of the layoffs, BioWare offered us professional assistance in finding new employment, and an additional payment, but ONLY on the condition that we signed an agreement saying we cannot talk about any details of the settlement, and that we would completely waive any right to legal action or even to complain in any way about anyone associated with BioWare now or ever in the future. Tactics like that sure make me think that BioWare knows it is in the wrong.” - “Despite what they publicly announced when they laid us off, this process has been anything but empathetic, respectful, and communicative.” The latest BioWare layoffs were the third round so far this year, and many of the developers affected even in earlier rounds are still searching for work, though some have started to find new positions. Regardless of employment status, the members of the current lawsuit state they remain determined to pursue BioWare in court, regardless of their employment status: - “We strongly believe that if Dragon Age: Dreadwolf does not do as well as BioWare or EA wants at launch, there will be more, even larger layoffs. Therefore, regardless of our own well-being, we believe it is important to hold BioWare responsible and get a clear decision on what settlement amount is legal. We’re no longer part of the development team, so the best way we can help our former teammates now is to hold BioWare accountable and ensure that the next group who is laid off are not treated as poorly as we were.” November 7th marks “N7 Day”, which is a fan celebration of BioWare’s Mass Effect games featuring Commander Shepard and the crew of the Normandy. The developers involved in the lawsuit are hoping N7 Day this year will be a reminder to BioWare of the importance of loyalty to your crew, and hope fans can have a little fun and help express their support with memes and images using an #N7SeveranceDay hashtag. The ex-employees involved in the suit are all based in Canada and have an average of 14 years at BioWare.”

[source]

You can express your support using the hashtag #N7SeveranceDay.

Edit: [Part 2/update] [more on the Keywords topic]

#dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #mass effect #video games #long post #longpost #mass effect 5 #signal boost #N7SeveranceDay #worker solidarity #labor rights #pls note that i did not create any of the images in this post #or the N7Severance twitter account. pls see source links

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pomefioredove · 1 year ago

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Hi! I love your writing style, especially how you portrait Rook, it's just how I imagine him💜

Could I request for Rook, Vil, Floyd and Azul reacting to reader calling them "love" or something affectionate for the first time? Maybe with reader realising and imploding on the inside?

Of course no pressure, I eat anything you write anyway!

-🔥

GUYS THESE PROMPTS. and thank you so much <3 I like thinking I do a good job 😭

summary: accidentally calling them "love" type of post: headcanons characters: floyd, azul, rook, vil additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, fluff!

𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝 𝐋𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐡

it's a quick slip of the tongue, one he might not have even noticed if he was distracted by anything else

unfortunately, today it's you that's caught his attention, and so he hears and processes every honeyed word with startling accuracy

"Could you pass me that pencil, love?"

wait. that's not what you'd said in your mind

the embarrassment is immediate, and you would have apologized if not for the big grin on his face

he goes on to brag about it to everyone for the rest of the day

...or week

however long it takes for that fuzzy feeling to wear off him

of course, at that point, he'll find you and pester you until you say it again for him

you never did get that pencil.

𝐀𝐳𝐮𝐥 𝐀𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨

perhaps your unfortunate habit of verbalizing your subconscious thoughts has finally come around to punish you

you're in Azul's office at the lounge, and he's explaining something about budgeting

you don't... quite understand, but he seems pretty pleased with himself, so you're happy for him

"I'm so proud of you, love,"

congratulations, you broke him

he forgets everything he said and everything he was about to say

and he just stares

his face burns a bright shade of red, and for a moment he looks around the room as if he's searching for somewhere to hide

you feel bad right away, and make an attempt to explain and apologize, though your own embarrassment makes everything you say unintelligible and even more embarrassing

after a moment of watching you stammer he just shushes you

"I appreciate the compliment. Just give me a warning next time... there will be a next time, won't there?"

𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭

intentional or not, he's been waiting for this moment

it's late, you're tired; Rook had been dragging you around campus all day, showing you his favorite "people-watching" spots

by the time he walks you back to Ramshackle, you're happy, but completely drained

(being around Rook tends to do that)

you're too sleepy to even realize the words coming out of your mouth until it's too late

"Thank you again. Good night, love,"

his reaction is immediate

he launches into a very long soliloquy about his feelings towards you, what a wonderful day it was, and how he treasures your relationship no matter how you define it

already has some petnames of his own for you ready to go

amour, chou chou, chéri, miel, cœur...

prepare to never hear the end of this

𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭

Vil is actually quite used to being called all sorts of lovely things

...albeit, mostly by his fans

and if it were anyone else calling him their love, he wouldn't have even noticed

but hearing it in your voice immediately catches his attention

the sentence is so simple, of course you would've missed it. he'd simply been giving you some advice, and...

"Okay. Thank you, love,"

he would have teased you for it (lovingly, of course) if not for the fact that it made him feel flustered

him. flustered!

he stares at you until you realize what exactly you'd just said to him, and then, understandably, you freak out

trying to backtrack won't help, neither does trying to explain, or apologizing

after a moment of letting you struggle, Vil just laughs

"My, my. Don't worry yourself, I take it as a compliment. But we'll have to work on your confidence some more, won't we?"

#twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #queued #vil schoenheit x reader #floyd leech x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #rook hunt x reader

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ramblings-of-a-chaotic-neutral · 10 months ago

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Hello everyone! I'm back with another Merlin au! This time featuring a role reversal and Merlin getting yet another job that he never wanted! Enjoy! :D

EDIT: You can find part 2 of this au here!

This au takes places during the season four finale, when Arthur gives up on being king and tells Merlin that Camelot will have to find itself another king if they defeat Morgana, since Arthur no longer feels worthy of being king.

So, Merlin leads him to Excalibur and helps him draw the sword from the stone in front of the people of Camelot, successfully convincing Arthur to believe in himself and his place as a good leader.

That night though, after Arthur confided in Merlin about his worries of Morgana's magic being too powerful for them to fight, Merlin sneaks back into the castle in dosguise as Dragoon and plants the curse that will strip Morgana of her powers the next day. However, he gets caught in the act by Morgana, who of course immediately starts attacking her sworn enemy.

Merlin is put on the defensive, putting all of his efforts into shielding himself from Morgana's attacks and fending off Helios and his fighters at the same time. After a few minutes, his spell that disguises him as Dragoon fades, as all of his magical strength is poured into his fight against Morgana.

Merlin can see the exact moment that Morgana's eyes widened with shock, and it's then that he realizes what had just happened: Morgana knew exactly who he was now.

After the moment of shocked silence passed, Morgana started cackling, finding the situation hilarious. She taunts Merlin, asking if Arthur knows what he is. Upon seeing Merlin wince, Morgana offers him a deal: join her side and help eliminate Arthur, or he can burn in the courtyard like so many of their magical bretheren. Morgana sneers at him that he'd better accept her deal, as he'd burn on a pyre at Arthur's hand even if Merlin kept fighting at his side.

Merlin, predictably, rejects her offer and continues his attack, rebuking Morgana for her cruelty and violence. At this point, their fight had migrated all the way out into the courtyard, which gave them more space to use more destructive spells against each other.

Morgana hurled fireballs at Merlin, and he responded by throwing blinding arcs of lightning at her. Morgana managed to barely sheild herself against the attack, but Helios and his men weren't as lucky and were blasted away in the attack, all of them fatally wounded.

Seeing that her backup was now gone, Morgana redoubled her attacks, franticly throwing spell after spell at her prophesied killer. As Merlin desperately shielded himself, he had an idea. The very thought of it caused guilt to well up in his throat, but he saw no other way to survive.

As Morgana renewed her constant barrage of spells, Merlin didn't defend himself with a shielding spell. Instead, he powered all of his already diminished power into a redirection spell, attempting to throw Morgana's spells back at her.

Sure enough, as soon as Morgana's spells collided with Merlin's redirection spell, they were launched right back at Morgana, who didn't have enough time to dodge or shield herself from the blast.

Morgana's own spells hit her with all of the killing intent that she had aimed at her mortal enemy, and her spells accomplished their goal: killing their target.

Merlin both shocked and horrified as he looked down at Morgana's body, as he didn't intend to kill her, only subdue her so that she could stand trail and face Arthur's justice. However, it seemed like Morgana's own murderous fury had been too strong for even herself, ultimately bringing about her demise.

As Merlin silently held onto Morgana's fallen body, just as he did on that fateful day when he poisoned her and pushed her into Morgause's clutches, he saw the run begin to rise over the castle. He quickly jolted up at the sight, his heart leaping with panic, since he needed to be back in Arthur's camp in the woods before anyone noticed that he was gone!

Merlin ran out of the castle, quickly finding his way back to Arthur's camp, and planning out what he was going to say to hopefully explain his absence. Maybe picking medicinal herbs in preparation to help anyone wounded during the upcoming battle? That would work!

But... there wasn't going to be a battle, since all of their enemies were now lying dead in the castle's courtyard, unknown to all of the fighters preparing to give their lives to retake their home. Shit, everyone would start looking for answers the moment they set foot in the castle, how was Merlin supposed to throw them off his trail?!

Merlin was so preoccupied with these thoughts swirling around his head as he ran back to the hidden camp that he didn't notice the many eyes peering at him from a certain window in the castle, with the men inside having seen everything that had just transpired.

(When Morgana had taken over the castle, she had locked all of the lords and older knights on Arthur's council in an old meeting room, planning to execute them later. She didn't plan to rule with some useless council to hold her back after all!

It was truly an unfortunate coincidence for Merlin that the particular room that Morgana had locked them in had a perfect view of the courtyard below and the unexpected battle that took place on it that night.)

Merlin, luckily, managed to make it back to the camp just as Arthur was waking up, and no one else seemed to have noticed that he was missing that morning, too preoccupied by preparations for the upcoming battle. Merlin breathed a sigh of relief when no one commented on him being gone. Maybe this would actually go smoothly!

That morning, Arthur gave a rousing and inspiring speech to his people, ready to lead them into battle. With the light shining on him and Excalibur by his side, his people ready to follow him to the ends of the earth, Arthur looked every bit the king Merlin imagined he could be. Looking at Arthur, King Arthur, Merlin's heart swelled with pride and hope. And if he had to blink some tears from his eyes, then no one commented on it.

Still, the fact that Arthur was leading them into a battle that was already won had Merlin shifting his feet with nervousness. How would Arthur react? Would anyone discover that Merlin was behind Morgana's defeat? Would they question their unexpected boon, or would they simply accept it with relief?

Merlin's anxiety heightened with each step the army took towards Camelot. While the army, along with Tristan and Isolde, were going to try to storm the castle from the main entrance (which Merlin knew would be easier than anticipated, since Morgana's army was dead), a smaller group comprised of Arthur, Merlin, Gwen, Percival, and Leon were sent through the underground tunnels to launch a sneak attack on Morgana.

Merlin just put on a stoic face and nodded as Arthur outlined the plan, still trying to figure out how he could avoid suspicion after the army of Camelot realizes that Morgana and her army were already defeated.

Their small group easily makes to through the tunnels, which puts Arthur more on edge, as Merlin can see that he thinks that it's almost too easy, like they're walking into a trap. Merlin wished that he could allay Arthur's fears, but he couldn't at the moment, not without revealing that he knows too much.

When they reached the dungeons, Leon and Percival separated from them to go free Gwaine, Elyan, Gaius, and the other prisoners held down there. Meanwhile, Arthur, Merlin, and Gwen headed for the throne room, with two of them tense and ready for a fight against a formidable sorceress, and one of them tense under the weight of his own secrets.

When Arthur burst open the doors to the throne room, adrenaline rushing and ready for a fight to the death, he was ready to see his sister on his throne, mocking and tormenting him. Instead, to his shock, he found his entire council inside, alive and well and loudly squabbling amongst themselves.

Upon hearing the doors to the throne room crash open, they all froze and grew silent, turning to look at who was there. They all relaxed upon seeing Arthur, but tensed when they saw who was standing right behind him.

"I'm glad to see that all of you are unharmed, but what are you all doing here? Where is Morgana! We must defeat her at once!"

The lords' eyes grew wide as they started murmuring amongst each other in sharp tones. Finally, Geoffrey was pushed forward, seemingly appointed as the voice of the group.

"Welcome back, my lord. It is truly a blessing to see you back unharmed. However, we do bring troubling news to you. It is with a heavy heart that we inform you of these changes."

Geoffrey trailed off from there, his face grim. He seemed reluctant to say anything further, much to Arthur's frustration and horror.

"What do you mean news? What has happened? What has Morgana done?!"

Geoffrey sighed, looking every bit of his numerous years. After another tense moment of silence, Geoffrey spoke again.

"Sire, we wish to inform you that Morgana Pendragon is dead. She was killed in a battle in the early hours this morning. Her body still lies where she met her demise in the courtyard."

While Merlin grew pale and tensed even more, both Arthur and Gwen stumbled backwards with shock at Geoffrey's words, the breath knocked out of them both by the unbelievable news.

"What- How did this happen?! Who could have... how is that even possible?!"

"We," Geoffrey replied as he gestured to all of the lords and council members standing around him, "witnessed all of it from a room overlooking the courtyard. It was an unbelievable sight, one that I myself might not believe if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes. A lone sorcerer called lightning down on all of Morgana's soldiers, killing them in an instant. He then proceeded to battle Morgana to the death in a duel of magic. He managed to defeat her before leaving the citadel in a hurry."

Arthur stood, frozen, as Geoffrey's words swirled around his head, almost comprehendible. Many conflicting feelings- relief, grief, shock, horror- welled up in his chest, almost choking him with their strength. He was paralyzed as he grieved his sister, celebrated his kingdom's safety from her wrath, and feared this new, more powerful sorcerer who had single-handedly defeated his sister, the most power magic user Camelot had ever seen.

Merlin, meanwhile, stood completely still, his heart beating as fast as a rabbit on the run from a wolf. They saw him, they all did. But it was dark, so maybe they didn't recognize him? Merlin hoped with everything he had that they hadn't recognized him during the battle.

Grimacing again, Geoffrey cleared his throat, apparently having more to say. Merlin's heart leapt with terror as Geoffrey opened his mouth once more.

"Sire, it is with great remorse that I must inform you of this, but there is more news. As is law, Morgana took the throne through right of conquest, as your father did in his time. Morgana was, in the time she ruled Camelot with her forces, the rightful ruler in the eyes of the law.

However, this sorcerer defeated the the ruler of Camelot and conquered her entire army. By the laws of Camelot and by the right of conquest, he is the rightful king of Camelot. Therefore, unfortunately, unless you formally challenge him for the throne and win, we cannot reinstate you as king at this time."

If it was possible, Merlin became even paler at those words, feeling woozy and sick to his stomach. Had he just sabotaged his own efforts?! He did all of this to keep Arthur as king, not undermine him!

Gwen gave a loud gasp, a look of horror on her face, while Arthur's jaw clenched in anger and frustration.

"This is preposterous! Whoever that sorcerer is, he fled! He cannot become king, nor can I challenge him, if he isn't even here!"

Merlin took a staggered step back as Geoffrey's eyes landed on him. He had the grasp at the pillar next to him for support under the old librarian's gaze. He knew.

"The sorcerer did leave after his battle with Morgana, as I said earlier, but I'm afraid that he is here right now, sire."

Merlin felt like he was about to faint. Oh gods, was he about to throw up?

Arthur's entire body jolted to attention, his grip tightening on the sword as he registered Geoffrey's words. He forced one strained word passed his clenched jaw.

"Where?"

Geoffrey motioned one of the other lords on the council forward, and he stepped forward with the coronation crown and royal seal resting on a pillow.

"The council and all of Camelot's vassal lords feel that it is in Camelot's best interest to acknowledge and formalize the sorcerer's claim to the throne at this time, as we are yet unaware of his true power or the danger he poses should he decide to attack. We unanimously agree that it would be best to not give him any reason to retaliate against Camelot, as we fear he might if we do not acknowledge his rightful conquest."

Arthur's face fell, his expression ashen and devastated. His own council had turned against him? They had chosen this unknown and potentially dangerous sorcerer to place the lives of his people in?

Arthur, Gwen, and Merlin were all frozen with shock and dread, looking on in horror as Geoffrey took the coronation crown and royal seal from their cushion and stepped forward, approaching the paralyzed trio.

"It is with a heavy heart that we crown the new king of Camelot, ascended through the right of conquest over Morgana Pendragon."

Geoffrey moved past Arthur, looking at first like he was heading for the door behind them, but Merlin knew who he was actually walking towards. Merlin flinched backwards, trying to get away from Geoffrey and the crown he was carrying, but he was stopped by the hard stone wall behind his back.

"We, the council and lords of Camelot, do declare our fealty to the slayer of Morgana, the prophesized sorcerer known as Emrys, King Merlin!"

Geoffrey punctuated his announcement by placing the crown on a very pale Merlin's head, much to the horror of Arthur and Gwen.

And it was at that moment that Merlin did faint.

That's all from this au for now! Let me know what you think of it and if you'd like a continuation of this au! Until next time!

And, as always, thank you for reading through my ramblings! :D

#merlin #bbc merlin #merlin bbc #arthur pendragon #merlin au #merthur #merlin prompts #king merlin

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bosbas · 22 days ago

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Chapter 9: in my defense, I have none

series masterlist previous part || next part

pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!daphne's best friend!reader WC: 2.3k

Warnings: period-typical gender roles, idiots in love, we are getting somewhere!!, still a lot of pining ofc

Summary: At her wit's end after Anthony's multiple attempts to scare away her suitors, Daphne employs her best friend's help to keep her brother distracted while she tries to find a husband. It's a foolproof plan, except it ends up working a little too well. (or, a Bridgerton version of The Taming of the Shrew/10 things I hate about you)

December 18, 1812 - Tensions had been... high... in the Bridgerton household as of late, to say the least.

The holidays were looming, and with that loomed also the prospect of Anthony spending an entire week with you in his home in the countryside. So naturally, he'd been distracting himself by practically biting the head off of any family member who dared speak with him. A particular fury, though, was reserved for Daphne when she brought you up.

Such an argument happened to be taking place at this very moment. Anthony had made the grave mistake of revealing his plans to leave for Aubrey Hall a few days before the rest of his family in the hopes that it would provide a brief respite from the chaos.

"You're being ridiculous," yelled Daphne, grabbing a cushion off the couch and squeezing it in frustration. "You simply can't deal with your feelings like an adult and you're running away."

"I'm not running away," roared Anthony. "And I've dealt with my feelings plenty. I just can't be bothered to have this conversation for the hundredth time. You're boring, Daphne!"

"Don't you say that to me," the younger Bridgerton fumed, throwing the pillow in her hands at her brother.

Much to her chagrin, Anthony easily dodged it, and the condescending smile he gave her in response was enough for her to let out a strangled scream.

"I will as long as you keep bringing this up," Anthony snapped, nearing his sister and shaking her by the shoulders. "I've had enough of you meddling in my life once again. Let's not forget how it ended the first time."

"It only ended because you wanted it to end," growled Daphne, shoving her brother's arms off her shoulders. "You can't deny it, Anthony. It might have started as a ploy, but what happened after was entirely out of my hands. Is it really worth running away for?"

"For the last time, I'm not running away!" repeated Anthony, grabbing the pillow Daphne had thrown earlier and launching it in his sister's direction.

Unfortunately having been hit by the cushion, Daphne angrily fixed her hair as she looked at her brother. "Don't lie to yourself, Anthony. You only want to avoid Mama and me, who make you actually face your feelings. It's cowardly, just like you are."

But the venom in Daphne's voice didn't seem to penetrate her eldest brother. He'd made his decision, that much was clear, and hopefully, a couple of days of peace and quiet would help him prepare to see your eyes and hear your laugh once again without wanting to run straight into the Thames.

Ignoring his sister's insults, Anthony huffed and straightened out his coat, turning around to leave the room. "I certainly won't be speaking with her while she's at Kent if that's what you're trying to imply."

Daphne could've screamed out of frustration. She opted for something she knew would cut her brother to the bone. "Don't you think you've punished her enough?"

Anthony stopped in his tracks and blinked repeatedly, almost as if he'd been struck.

But Daphne continued. "She's miserable. She can't eat, she can't sleep, she's ridden with guilt and pales at even the slightest mention of you. I've never seen her like this. I haven't heard her laugh in weeks. Don't you think that's enough?"

Anthony turned around slowly to look at his sister, wanting to confirm what she was saying.

Daphne's eyes were clear, pleading.

"I had no idea."

"Of course you didn't. How could you? You leave the room if anyone even says her name."

"I-" tried Anthony, but no coherent sentence came out of his mouth.

"You've punished her enough," repeated Daphne, sighing deeply. "Not to mention how much you've punished yourself. You're allowed to have feelings for someone, Anthony. You're even allowed to pursue them after that. You'd be happier to realize that before you manage to completely ruin your chances with Y/N."

Once again, no words left Anthony's mouth. He was far too choked up to say anything that could have been deemed appropriate at that moment. So he stood there as Daphne pushed past him, standing in dumbfounded silence as he thought about just how much he wished he could go back to that May night when you first asked him to dance.

Perhaps he could have asked you to dance first. Perhaps it wouldn't have mattered. He supposed he'd never know.

---

Standing at the entrance to Aubrey Hall, the Bridgertons' country estate, you found yourself wringing your hands. You were anxious, though you'd never admit it aloud. You usually spent the winter at your own family's house, a tradition more rooted in habit than sentiment. But every Christmas, without fail, you took the short carriage ride to Aubrey Hall and stayed there for a week. It was your annual escape from the echoing silence of a holiday spent alone with your father, who, truthfully, preferred his ledgers to any kind of festivity. Holidays only seemed to remind him of your mother, and he coped in the only way he knew how: by pretending they didn't exist.

Daphne had repeatedly insisted that you were welcome this year. That nothing had changed. That you ought to come, just as you always had, and that everyone, including Anthony, would be happy to see you. You weren't entirely convinced, but you'd chosen to believe her. Or, at least, you were trying to.

The sky above was thick with snow-laden clouds, the air sharp with that particular stillness that came before a storm. It felt fitting, in a way– your thoughts were just as restless, your nerves just as unsettled. This was the first time you'd returned to a Bridgerton home since that night. Since everything. And while part of you thrilled at the familiar sight of Aubrey Hall, a quieter, more wounded part was dreading the possibility of seeing him.

Anthony.

And there it was again: that flutter in your chest you wished you could attribute to the cold.

Just as you were about to knock on the door, Anthony opened the door himself and you let out a startled gasp.

He, in turn, looked like he was seeing a ghost.

"Hello," you said awkwardly, not able to tear your gaze away from Anthony's wide eyes.

"I thought you weren't coming," breathed Anthony, completely ignoring your greeting.

"Excuse me? Daphne said-" you coughed, shocked that he wanted you out of his home that badly.

Anthony blinked, coming back to his senses. "I meant I thought you weren't coming today. The rest of the family decided to wait a couple of days for the storm to pass, I suppose I thought you'd do the same."

"They're not here yet?" you squeaked out, genuine dread filling you from head to toe as you realized you and Anthony would truly be alone in his family's country house.

He shook his head, looking at the sky as if to confirm the incoming storm.

You rushed to explain yourself. "It's such a short carriage ride that I thought the weather wouldn't matter so much. I'm sorry, I wasn't thinking. I can go back, I'll just tell the driver-" you sputtered.

Anthony screwed his eyes shut briefly and then looked straight into yours. "It's alright," he assured you, almost reaching out to put a comforting hand on your shoulder but retracting it before making any contact. "The storm is about to start anyway, it wouldn't be safe."

You nodded, not quite sure how to proceed. This was the longest conversation you'd had with Anthony since he found out about... well, everything.

He cleared his throat. "Please, come in. I wouldn't want you to catch a chill," he said, stepping aside and offering to take your coat while motioning for his butler to help carry your bags inside.

Once again the two of you were stood, alone, trying to look anywhere but at each other. A heavy silence filled with things left unsaid made it almost impossible to hear your own thoughts, and you ached with the desire to reach out to Anthony for reassurance, much like you had done for a greater part of the summer.

"Well, I'd better be on my way," he said, not providing an explanation for why he was going outside when a powerful storm was clearly about to hit. "I'm certain you know your way around by now, but do let me know if you need anything."

His voice sounded detached, far away, and not at all like the warm tone he used to use when you were whispering together at a ball or sharing a funny story during a promenade. You were torn between wanting to continue speaking with Anthony, if only because it reminded you of how much you did love him, or if you wanted to get away from how cold he was being as soon as possible.

In the end, he made the decision easy for you by leaving without waiting for your response.

A painful reminder of just how damaged your relationship was. Perhaps it was beyond fixing now. It certainly seemed like it.

You sighed and made your way to your bedroom, already dreading the rest of your stay at Aubrey Hall. It was like the life had been taken out of you entirely.

Quietly reaching your door, you decided to stay away from Anthony as much as possible before the rest of his family arrived. It was the least you could do. It was already a burden being here alone with him, and you didn't want to make it worse by actually attempting to speak with him.

---

In the end, your plan failed miserably. It was the middle of the night, and you found yourself shivering from the cold in your bedroom, looking out at the snow swirling around outside. It would have been a beautiful sight if you were not chilled to the bone.

With every passing minute, your resolve to avoid Anthony at all costs was waning. You desperately needed another blanket– or three– and there was no one else you could ask at this hour. It was entirely too late to bother any of the staff, and you were far too exhausted to go downstairs anyway.

As much as you tried to hold off, burying yourself in your sheets and curling into a ball, goosebumps covered your entire body and your teeth were chattering loudly.

Finally, as you felt your feet grow numb, you decided you could wait no longer. Standing up and wiggling your toes, you exited your room to try and find somewhere a blanket might be (or Anthony, whichever came first).

You wandered around aimlessly for a few minutes, not quite thinking clearly. Eventually, you passed Anthony's study and found the light under the door still shining, and you breathed a sigh of relief.

Knocking gingerly, you opened the door slowly to reveal Anthony writing down some notes on his desk before he looked up to see you.

You felt uncomfortable under his gaze, underdressed in your nightgown. He'd seen you naked before, you reminded yourself, and you almost smiled at the absurdity. But it didn't help your nervousness.

"Is something the matter? It's the middle of the night," he said, looking you up and down without restraint.

You shook your head and remembered where you were. "Oh, yes, sorry."

"I wish you'd stop apologizing," he responded darkly and promptly looked back down at what he had been writing.

Your throat went dry, but you'd come this far, you might as well actually tell him why you were here.

Trying to keep your voice level, you explained, "I was just wondering if you had a spare blanket I could use. It's quite cold in my room."

Anthony paused for a second, looking back up at you and seeing you slightly shaking from the cold still. Finally, he nodded, gesturing toward the couch at the other end of the study which had a very thick blanket laying atop it.

You scurried over, wanting to get out of his study as soon as possible, but Anthony's voice stopped you.

"I'm nearly done, if you'd like to wait for a few minutes, I can walk you back to your room."

You sent him a questioning look, but he just shrugged.

"It's quite late," he repeated, as if that would provide an explanation, and promptly returned to his work.

To be frank, you were too tired to care, and you knew that Anthony would put up a fight if you disagreed with him, so you sat down anyway. Draping the blanket across your shoulders, you sat down on the couch and stared at Anthony. It had been months since you had the opportunity to just look at him, and you had forgotten how much you truly desired him.

Even as your eyes grew heavy and you sank deeper into the cushions, you couldn't help the warm feeling that came over you every time you thought about that night with him on the floor of your library.

The next thing you knew, you were in Anthony's arms as he lowered you gently on your bed.

"I didn't realize I had fallen asleep," you whispered, rubbing your eyes sleepily.

"It's no bother," he whispered back, pulling the covers around you and tucking the blanket up to your chin.

As he turned to leave you grabbed his hand, and though he could have easily kept walking away, he sat down on the side of your bed, looking down at you expectantly.

You were half asleep and fighting to keep your eyes open, but you wanted him to know. "I wish things could be different," you spoke softly.

Anthony smiled sadly at you, saying nothing but leaning down to plant a tender kiss on your forehead before he stood to leave. You fell asleep before he even reached the door.

—

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rafeandonlyrafe · 1 year ago

Text

bruised knees

words: 2.1k

warnings: mentions of blowjobs, losing virginity, virgin!reader (but fic is not smut), jealous! and overprotective!rafe, childhood friends to lovers, fluffy

rafe has been beyond overprotective of you his whole life. ever since you met in first grade and you let him borrow your brand new crayon box, only for a bully to come up and tug on your pigtails, causing rafe to pause his coloring to shove him away and tell him not to touch you ever again.

you smiled at rafe, the same smile you look at him with now, and he knew he would take care of you no matter what. you hugged him tightly and from that day on always shared your crayons, and everything else you had, with your new best friend.

“ready?” rafe slings his arm around your shoulder, pulling you towards the boat.

“yes!” you squeal, trying to navigate holding your tote bag and backpack at once, when suddenly both are out of your hands as rafe takes them and carries them down the pier.

“rafe, i can carry my own stuff.” you roll your eyes. it's a losing battle, your best friend will always lessen your load, hating seeing you do any sort of physical labor, feeling like that's his job.

“yeah, whatever.” rafe just ignores your argument, it's one he's heard so many times before, yet you make no attempt to take the bags back. “who all did you invite again?” rafe asks as you enter onto the boat, quickly beginning preparations for the day at sea, having gone through the motions so many times, knowing the boat like the back of your hand even though it's the cameron familys.

“uhh, topper, tina, kelce, steph, tiffy and hayden.” you go through the list of names in your head of friends that will be joining you and rafe on the yacht.

“how is tiffy since the break up?” rafe asks, knowing you like to talk while you work, pulling various lines while you straighten up the boat to make it more presentable, going through the motions together, always together.

rafes question launches you into a gossip session with rafe, spilling all the secrets your friends told you at your last hang out, but they know you don't keep anything from rafe, so it's no surprise when he knows as well, not that any of the girls would complain, rafe often takes over the role of protector to your friends as well, caring about who you care about.

“there's hayden!” you call to rafe, pointing down the dock to the parking lot where haydens truck just pulled in, a few minutes earlier than you expected anyone to start arriving.

“great.” rafe mumbles under his breath, making sure you don't hear his upset tone. he liked hayden at first, sharing some common interests (mostly golf), but then hayden got far too touchy with you, his gaze heating when it turned to you in a way that infuriated rafe, and he made sure to show hayden when you weren't around how much it pissed him off.

rafe is probably to credit for you never having a boyfriend for an extended period of time, but he can't help it, you're so perfect and no guy can possibly deserve you, so he has to scare them off before you get too invested and give them all of your attention instead of him.

“hey, heyds.” you greet him with a hug after he makes his way down the pier, making rafe grunts as haydens hand rests a little too low on your back for his liking, making rafes mind reel at the possibility of something going on between the two of you.

your other friends slowly begin to pile onto the boat, steph being the last one to get there as she is notorious for being late, which is why you told her to show up half an hour before everyone else, and somehow still managed to get there last.

“ready for takeoff?” you ask rafe, stepping away to join him at the wheel while your group of friends find places to sit while rafe navigates the boat towards the ocean.

“i am.” rafe nods, having disconnected the last line. no matter what is happening, you always sit next to rafe on the bench as he directs the boat, ready to be his second in command at any moment, even if its just fetching him a drink or checking the water depth.

“i can’t wait to swim.” you say with a sigh, having not gotten out into the water all week, which is rare with how much peace you find in the ocean.

“how about that one sandbar we took wheezie to?” rafe questions, wanting you to decide where he anchors the boat.

“ooh, yes.” you nod.

“she complained to me last night that you weren’t over.” rafe smiles at you when you let out a laugh.

“i don’t spend one friday night and she complains! ugh, i love that girl.” you grin thinking about wheezie, treating her like she’s your own little sister, having known her since she was born.

“you’ll stay tonight, right?” rafe asks, missing you sharing his bed like you do every weekend.

“mhm, i’m not driving home after being out on the boat all day, gonna be so exhausted.” you roll your eyes.

rafe smiles at you, wrapping one arm around his shoulder, leaving him to drive with one hand, but wanting you close to him, secretly hoping hayden would look through the windows from the lower deck and see you all cuddled up into his side.

neither of you have ever broached the topic of taking things beyond just friendship, despite rafe desperately wanting to take things further, he doesn’t want to mess up the one good thing he has in his life. you’re such a source of brightness that when you’re around him he forgets all about his fights with his dad, or issues with barry.

“here.” rafe nods to you, immediately going to drop the anchor, planning to stay in one spot all day.

you help him make sure its secure before moving to the main deck with everyone else. “alright, who is ready to swim?” you shout with glee.

“you know i am.” hayden smirks at you, pulling his shirt off over his head.

“mhm, that’s why i like you, not afraid to get wet.” you say, rafe carefully watching the interaction, unsure if you meant the innuendo or not.

you take your tshirt off as well, tossing it onto the pile that everyone is making on the sofa, revealing swimsuits underneath their clothes. rafe also undresses, but slowly and quietly.

you tug your yoga pants down next, having kicked your shoes off upon entering the boat. you turn towards rafe, always checking in with him, seeking him out amongst the crowd.

rafe smiles at you, his eyes dropping subtly down your body, quickly checking out your pale lilac swimsuit before he sees a different shade of purple, this time blossoming around your knees.

hayden seems to notice too, a smirk growing on his face when he sees the localized bruises.

“what the fuck did you do?” rafe grunts out before he can stop himself and use the calming methods you so carefully taught him.

“what?” hayden turns to look at rafe, but he’s already charging at him. rafe shoves hayden backwards, making him stumble but he manages to maintain his footing.

“rafe, chill!” you shout, grabbing at his arm.

“did he-did you fucking blow him?” rafe questions, pointing to your knees. “how did you get those bruises?” “jesus, rafe!” you take a step back, but don’t drop your grip on his arm, not sure if he would try to pull away. “you seriously ask me that in front of all our friends? for your information i was working out in the garden yesterday and bruised my knees kneeling on the pavers. but thanks for embarrassing me.”

you drop his arm when you feel tears welling in your eyes, quickly turning and sprinting into the interior of the boat.

you throw yourself onto the bed in one of the two bedrooms, hiding your face in the white pillow as you cry.

“y/n…” rafe says softly. you don’t jump at his voice, you expected him to follow you, but you don’t feel like talking to him.

“please, y/n.” rafe pleads, and you feel his weight dip the bed down as he climbs onto the mattress.

“stop it.” you whine when rafe pulls you into him, but you don’t struggle as he cuddles into you, pressing a kiss against your hair. you’ve cuddled rafe before, of course since you’ve been friends for so long, but never with this little clothing on, and you are very aware of how much of his bare skin is touching yours.

“i didn’t mean to embarrass you, y/n. i just… i just got so angry thinking about you possibly doing anything with hayden. i don’t like him. he’s not good enough for you.”

“why would you even think i would do that though? you know im a virgin.”

the words shock rafe, and you can physically feel him tense up. you pick up your head to look at him, brows furrowed together.

“i-i didn’t know that.” rafe just assumed you lost it to one of your short term boyfriends.

“no… no i would have told you, rafey. you’re my best friend, i… you told me when you lost yours.” you remind rafe of when he was 16 years old and had sex for the first time, calling you only an hour after to confide in you, partly hoping you would get jealous.

“i thought you knew that i wouldn’t want to hear about you sleeping with someone. i guess i just figured you kept it to yourself for my sake.” rafe doesn’t realize the implication of his words as they flow from between his lips.

“why would i?- wait… you like me?” you blink up at him.

rafe pauses. now is as good as time as any, especially with the growing threat of hayden and other guys who aren’t scared of rafe potentially taking you away from him. “yes. i love you. i think i’ve loved you since first grade.” “holy shit, you asshole!” you shout, and it’s not the reaction rafe was expecting as he tenses, waiting for you to run off, or get mad, but instead your shout turns into a laugh, “i can’t believe you didn’t tell me sooner!” and then your lips are on his, finally feeling the perfect meld of your mouths together as rafe quickly snaps into action, his lips moving against yours as he cups your face.

“i love you too, in case it wasn’t obvious.” you whisper against his mouth before resuming the kiss.

“thank fuck, i was ready to murder hayden just because i thought you liked him.” rafe laughs, tugging on your waist to bring your bodies even closer together, leaving his large hand resting against your bare back.

“pshht.” you shake your head. “he’s not even half the man you are.”

“holy shit, i love you.” rafe repeats, taking you in for another kiss.

“my friends are never gonna believe that we finally got together.” you giggle. “i think they’ve all placed bets.”

“your friends?” rafe shakes his head. “baby, i think even our parents have.”

“i… i’m really happy we admitted are feelings.” you say shyly, a blush covering your cheeks as you look down, breaking eye contact. “everyone told me that you liked me too but i was too nervous to ruin what we had.”

“hey, it’s okay.” rafe says softly. “we have forever this way.”

you feel tears well up in your eyes again as you wrap your arms around rafe, pressing your head into his bare chest.

“gosh, i can’t wait to go tell everyone.” you admit with a giggle.

“yeah? wanna go get in the water too?” rafe asks, unsure if your friends waiting for your argument to be over to swim.

“hell yeah.” you slide off the bed, rafe taking a minute to check out your body, not hiding his heated gaze as you catch him.

“holy shit, you are checking me out!”

“duh, you’re my girl now.” rafe smirks, also getting off the bed, placing an arm around your shoulder. “gonna give you bruised knees for a different reason, baby.”

“wait, rafe-” you begin, suddenly not feeling like swimming anymore, but he pulls you out onto the deck, seeing all your friends sitting awkwardly on the sofas, waiting for whatever argument to be over with.

“don’t worry baby.” rafe drops his mouth to your ear, making sure your friends can’t hear. “we can talk about that virginity of yours later.” rafe doesn’t give you a second to respond, placing his fingers on your chin and tilting your head towards him to press a kiss to your lips to the chorus of all of your friends letting out woops and claps, along with shouts of “finally!”

“i told you!” tiffy shouts, holding her hand out towards stephanie. “you owe me 20 bucks!”

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pucksandpower · 1 year ago

Text

Sink or Swim

Charles Leclerc x lifeguard!Reader

Summary: in which Charles learns there are some sports he’s just not cut out for … but at least he got a date with a cute lifeguard out of the whole ordeal

Warnings: near drowning

The salty sea breeze whips through Charles’ hair as he paddles out into the turquoise waters off St Kilda beach in Melbourne. It’s a few days before the Australian Grand Prix, and he’s determined to catch some waves and soak up the laid-back lifestyle before the high-pressure weekend begins.

“You’ve got this, mate!” His surf instructor Brent calls out with an encouraging grin. The tan, stocky Aussie has been giving Charles private lessons, showing him the proper technique for popping up on the board.

Charles gives Brent a tentative smile back, gripping the sides of the board tightly as he bobs up and down on the rolling swell. He’s a world-class driver, but he’s way out of his element here in the ocean. Still, he loves a new challenge.

A decent wave starts to form up ahead. “Here comes one! Remember to pop up when I say!” Brent yells.

Charles takes a deep breath and begins paddling hard as the wave builds momentum. “Pop up! Pop up!”

With all his strength, Charles pulls himself up into a crouched stance on the board — and immediately loses his balance, tumbling head-over-heels into the cool saltwater.

He breaks through the surface, sputtering and laughing at his graceless wipeout. “I’m afraid surfing may not be for me!”

“Don’t give up yet, we’re just getting started!” Brent hollers back with a grin.

For the next couple hours, Charles repeatedly attempts to ride the waves, only to lose his footing or get pitched off every time. He’s soaked and exhausted, but utterly thrilled to be out on the ocean instead of cooped up preparing for the race.

You’re stationed on the beach in your red and yellow lifeguard uniform, watching Charles’ futile surfing attempts through your binoculars. He certainly gets an ’A’ for effort if nothing else.

A solid set of waves starts rolling in, larger than the previous ones. You can see the raw power behind them.

“Big ones coming through!” Brent shouts over the crashing surf.

Charles nods and makes his way into position, paddling furiously as a massive wave rears up ahead of him. He pops up on the board at the optimal moment — and immediately gets launched into the air, flipping upside down violently as the full force of the wave pummels him underwater.

You gasp, realizing Charles hasn’t resurfaced after the extended pounding. In a flash you’re sprinting across the sand and diving into the choppy water, your steely eyes scanning for any sign of him.

There — a limp figure drifting beneath the surface, sinking slowly.

You kick hard, swimming as fast as you can while the current batters against you. Finally you reach him, wrapping your arms tightly around Charles’ motionless body and kicking back up towards the air. You break through, desperately gasping for air.

“Help! Surfer down!” You rasp, hauling Charles’ dead weight towards the shore as Brent and another lifeguard race out to assist.

You lay Charles on his back in the sand, quickly checking for a pulse. Faint and thready … but there. You tilt his head back and seal your lips over his, exhaling two rescue breaths into his lungs to fill them with air.

Nothing.

You interlock your fingers and start performing hard, rapid chest compressions. “Come on, breathe!” You growl through gritted teeth, your powerful arms pounding against Charles’ chest.

Finally — he coughs and sputters, vomiting up saltwater as his eyes flutter open in a daze. You roll him on his side, patting his back firmly as he continues coughing and wheezing.

“Wh-where … am I?” Charles murmurs hoarsely, blinking slowly as he takes in your face hovering over him.

You give him a relieved smile. “Don’t worry, you’re safe on the beach now. I’m the lifeguard who pulled you out, you nearly drowned out there.”

He squints at you, still looking dazed and confused. “Am … am I in heaven? You must be an angel ...”

You can’t help but let out a little laugh at his muddled words, your cheeks flushing slightly. “No, definitely not heaven. Just good old St Kilda beach. How are you feeling?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” Charles groans, gingerly touching his heaving chest. “Everything hurts.”

“That’s what happens when you take on a 12 foot wave,” Brent chuckles, toweling off Charles’ soaked hair with a caring hand. “Let’s get you warmed up and looked over, eh?”

With your help, Charles is able to stand unsteadily. You wrap a thick towel around his shoulders, rubbing his arms briskly to get the blood flowing.

“I don’t think surfing is my calling,” he chuckles weakly, leaning into you a little.

“Probably not,” you agree with a smirk. “Best to leave it to the pros from now on. You saved yourself from becoming the first ever Formula 1 driver shark snack.”

Charles laughs, grimacing and holding his ribs. “Ouch … don’t make me laugh, everything hurts when I laugh.”

“Well then let’s get you looked over and make sure nothing’s broken or bruised too badly,” you reply gently. Keeping an arm around Charles, you begin walking him slowly back across the beach towards the lifeguard hut.

As you’re tending to Charles, cleaning the sand off his cuts and wrapping his chest snugly, he gazes at you with wonder. “I don’t even know your name, angel.”

You shake your head with an amused smirk. “It’s Y/N. And I’ll accept being called an angel just this once after saving your life out there.”

“Y/N,” Charles repeats, committing it to memory with a warm smile. “I’ll never forget it. You’re my guardian angel today.”

You can’t help but blush a little at his sincerity and charisma, even soaking wet and battered on the bench. There’s just something magnetic about Charles.

Once he’s patched up, Charles stretches out his legs with a wince. “Thank you for rescuing me. I very clearly should not have tried to take on that monster wave.” His eyes twinkle roguishly. “Though I have to admit, the thought of you giving me mouth-to-mouth was quite nice.”

“Oh stop it,” you laugh, playfully swatting at his shoulder. “I was just doing my job. But you’re welcome, even if it means no more surfing lessons for you.”

“Ah yes, my pro surfing career is tragically cut short,” Charles jokes wistfully. His expression turns more serious. “But in all honesty … you saved my life today, Y/N. I can’t thank you enough for that. I would be lying at the bottom of the ocean if not for you.”

You meet his warm green eyes, his face still holding the fading marks of his near drowning. “I’m just glad I was in the right place at the right time to help.”

A charged moment passes between you before Charles clears his throat, looking almost sheepish. “So, uh … I know this might seem a little forward of me. But would you want to maybe come watch me race this weekend? As my personal guest?”

You blink in surprise at the unexpected invitation. “Oh, I-I don’t know, that seems like a lot of-”

“Please, I insist!” Charles cuts you off eagerly. “It’s the absolute least I can do to try and repay my own personal angel for saving me.” He gives you a playful grin. “Unless you make a habit of turning down devilishly handsome race car drivers?”

You roll your eyes at his playful cockiness, but you’re already smiling and shaking your head. “You know what, why not? It could be fun to see you in your natural habitat.”

“Fantastic!” Charles beams happily. “Then it’s a date — well, not a date exactly, more like ...” He stumbles over his words sheepishly.

“It’s a date,” you confirm with an amused smirk, putting him out of his flustered misery.

Charles lights up, reaching out to take your hand warmly in his. “A date it is then. Thank you again, Y/N. I’ll show you a much better time at the race than I did trying to surf today.”

You give his hand a squeeze with a fond smile. “I’ll hold you to that, Charles Leclerc.”

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lesservillain · 27 days ago

Text

masterlist

summary: attempts to get on your good side are made.

cw: sunshine!eddie x grumpy!reader, like really grumpy

wc: 5.7k

It started the week after Christmas. To most it could be seen as a peace offering. An olive branch being offered as a way to get on your good side. Something the person that left said offering at your desk had not done yet in the few short weeks he’s been working here.

When you walked back from the bathroom you noticed something on your desk that wasn’t there before. You picked up the small object and examined its wrapper; a small butterscotch morsel. You sighed, taking the candy in your hand and turning your attention to the bay.

Pushing open the door, you walked around the cars until you got to Bob’s station, stopping just a few feet away from where Eddie was bent over the hood of a Jeep. Taking aim, you reel your arm back, launching the piece of candy across the stations. It hits him smack dab in the back of the head, making his greasy hand reflexively reach for the spot where it hit. He leaned up, looking all around until his eyes met yours, and then he smiled.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he says, making you cringe. You hated the nicknames he gave you.

“I told you not to call me that,” you spit, scrunching up your nose at him.

“Sorry, ma’am,” Eddie corrects, ducking his head down. He looks around at the ground around him until he finds the offending piece of candy, picking it up and holding it in his hand. “I see you got my gift,” he says, shaking candy in his hand.

“I don’t like butterscotch,” you say plainly, crossing your arms. Whether you actually liked butterscotch or not didn’t matter to you in this scenario.

“Really?” He says with a tilt of the head. “That surprises me. Took me for a butterscotch girl.”

“That’s what you get for making assumptions about me,” you say, rolling your eyes at him. He huffs out a laugh, unwrapping the candy and popping it into his mouth, his cheek puffing out from where the candy sits.

“I’ll try something different next time,” he says, giving you a finger gun.

“No, you won’t. Don’t do it again.”

But, of course, he didn’t listen.

A few days later, while you were on the phone with a customer that was, frankly, getting on your last nerve, the doors to the bay opened up. You ignored the sounds of the garage as you listened to the customer complain about the price of a part replacement, wishing you could just tell him to go somewhere else if he didn’t want to pay the price you were giving him.

Just as you were about to speak again, you see something out of the corner of your eye. You turn your head to find Eddie with a finger over his mouth, instructing you to be quiet. Saying nothing, you watch him with a mouth agape as he reaches into his coverall pocket, pulling something out of it. His hand moves slowly, reaching over the counter and landing on the desk in front of you. His hand opens and he retracts it, leaving a Hershey kiss in it’s wake. You blink, looking at it dumbfoundedly.

“Hello? Hello?” You hear from the other side of the line.

“I’m sorry, sir, I was trying to see if I could find the part cheaper on another website,” you say as your recovery, shooing Eddie away with your free hand. Eddie takes the hint and scurries off, the sound the garage signifying that he did indeed leave.

You finish the phone call and hang up the phone. After threats of looking elsewhere, you finally convinced the man that you would have his car put at the top priority list if he stayed in business with you, which seemed to be enough to satisfy him. You brought your hands to your temples, attempting to massage the impending migraine away. Looking off to your side, the Hershey kiss catches your attention. You contemplate for a moment. The sweet treat didn’t sound like something so bad after that hellish conversation. But you didn’t want Eddie to think he won if you ate it. With a sigh, you grabbed the piece of chocolate and shoved it into your drawer for later.

But Eddie didn’t stop.

Every couple of days Eddie found a way to drop off a little piece of candy to you. It didn’t matter if you told him to quit playing around or that he was slacking off at his job, he was still sneaking you a kiss one way or another. They were starting making a little collection in your desk drawer, so you decided to take measures into your own hands.

“There,” you say placing the little glass dish that you got at the dollar store on the counter. You opened up your drawer and collected the candies, letting them cascade into the bowl with little thuds. Right on cue, the door to the bay opens up and fills the lobby with the sounds of rock music and various machine sounds.

“Oh, good,” you say, gesturing to the bowl in front of you, “just in time. Go head and make your deposit here.”

Eddie stops in his tracks, looking at the little candy filled dish. A toothy grin spreads across his face that slightly annoyed you. You were hoping he would be more upset, but he’s clearly more amused than anything. Reaching into the pocket of his coveralls, he pulls another kiss out and plops it into the bowl with a tink.

“This is a pretty good idea,” Eddie says, checking the bowl out, moving it a few inches with his finger.

“Thanks,” you say before sitting back down at your seat, unhappy with his complement. You swivel your chair to face your computer, going back to your business as Eddie stands at your counter. His finger taps on the marble and instantly annoys you. “Can I help you with something?” You ask, a bite to your tone.

“Actually, yes,” he says, leaning his top half over the counter and encroaching into your personal space. You look at him pointedly, but he doesn’t back off. “I need a part ordered.”

“Put in an order form then,” you say, keeping your eyes on your computer screen.

“It’s not for the shop,” he says, and that got your attention.

“What’s it for if it’s not for the shop?”

“It’s for my van. Kinda need a new muffler.”

“I thought you were louder than normal coming into the shop this morning,” you say, and Eddie laughs.

“Glad I could get your attention.”

“You know you still have to pay for the part,” you explain to him.

“I know, but your dad said I’d only have to pay shop price for it since I can put it on myself.”

“That’s true,” you say, pulling up one of the websites that you order your parts from. “What are you looking for?”

Eddie rounds the corner of your desk until he’s standing directly next to you. It catches you by surprise to the point where you stop and stare at him like he has two heads. You can smell the mixture grease and of his cologne wafting into your nose from how close he is to you.

Eddie says what he’s looking for, but you don’t react, still unsure of the sudden closeness of him to you. Eddie waves a hand in front of your face and it brings you back to the matter at hand. You take a hand and press it into his side, shoving him back a few steps.

“Personal space, please,” you finally say, shaking your head.

“Oh, sorry,” he responds, shifting where he stands. He repeats the part again, and you start typing it into the search bar. It takes a few awkward moments to load, but eventually the screen pops up with a few results for the muffler Eddie is looking for.

“That’s it!” Eddie says, his voice startling you as he’s now leaned in next to you as he looks at the screen. You turn to look at him, but he’s too focused on the monitor to notice your disgruntledness. “How much is it?”

“Looks like it’s running around $43 on this site,” you say, leaning away from him. He straightens up, bringing a hand to his chin.

“Do I have to pay it now?” He asks. “Or can I pay for it when it comes in?”

“We would charge it to the company and you would pay for it when the part comes in.”

“Awesome,” Eddie says nodding his head. “When would it come in?”

“Probably within the week. This company is in the state so it doesn’t take long for parts to arrive.”

“And we get paid this week, so that should work out…” Eddie gets lost in thought for a moment, and you silently wish he would leave your space already.

“So you want me to order it?” You ask, hoping to speed this up.

“Yes, princess--I mean yes ma’am.” He corrects himself at the last second, but the nickname still sends a wave of anger through you.

“Alright, I’ll order it. Now, get back to work.” Eddie gives you a little salute before walking behind you and back through the bay doors.

“Is it okay if I work through my lunch?” You hear Eddie ask as he approaches your desk.

“Sure you can,” your dad says, suddenly appearing from his office with a stack of papers. He sets them down in front of you and you grab them, looking through the invoices.

“Okay, cool. I’m gonna pull my van in, if that’s okay?” Eddie asks.

“Go ahead,” your dad says. Eddie gives a quick thanks and then is gone in a flash.

Just as he leaves, a growl erupts from your stomach, eliciting a laugh from your dad.

“Did you forget your lunch or something?” He asks.

“Left if on the counter,” you say frustratingly.

“Do you want some of mine?”

“No, I’ll just order something,” you say with a sigh, “Haven’t had the chance to think about it yet today.”

“Well, don’t wait too long, it sounds like your body is about to eat itself,” your dad says before heading towards the break room. You grumble under your breath, setting the papers that he gave you down before fishing through your drawer until you could find the Chinese take out menu. You dialed the number and placed your order, the restaurant giving you an estimated 30-45 minute wait time. Your stomach growled again, and but all you could do was agree to wait and hang up.

Sitting back in your chair, you look up to see the candy dish you had sitting up on the counter. You deliberated taking a piece and eating it to try and quell your hunger until your food arrived. Leaning back, you look out to see Eddie already has his car back up and is in the process of getting it set up to work on. Surely he was distracted enough that if you snuck a piece he wouldn’t notice.

You leaned forward in your chair, reaching out for the little pieces of temptation that were just in your reach. Snagging one, you examine it in your hand for a moment before unwrapping the wrapper. Wasting no time after it’s free of it’s confines, you pop the chocolate delight into your mouth and let the sweet taste hit your tongue. It tastes like heaven in your current state, ending all too quickly when you have to swallow it.

Looking at the dish again, you think it couldn’t hurt to have one more. After all, it would be a while before your food showed up. You grab another piece, unwrapping it quickly and eating it without second thought. The second one turned into a third, and then a fourth. You couldn’t stop yourself, each piece of chocolate better than the last. It was only when you got the sudden feeling of being watched that you paused in your indulgences. Turning slowly, your eyes met with a pair of brown ones that matched the treats you were currently devouring. They were creased at the edges due to an upturned grin on the mans face that they belonged to.

You’d been caught taking the olive branch that had been offered to you.

Out of instinct, you quickly raise your hand, your middle finger prominently on display as you flip off the man staring you down. He lets out a laugh that you can only see, the glass between you blocking out the surely obnoxious sound. You turn away from him with a growl, laying your eyes on the massacre that had happened to your desk. Picking up the trash can, you swept the small foils into the bin, getting rid of the evidence of what had happened. You had to remember to take out the trash by the end of your shift today.

Snow fell softly onto the ground outside of the office doors. It was a blinding site as you were up and personal with the glass at the current moment, wishing you had a way to cover the scene outside as you worked on the task at hand. It wasn’t one you were fond of, but it was one your dad insisted upon as the next impending holiday drew nearer.

For many reasons valentines day was not your favorite. It fed into the commercialization of holidays that you hated for one. It was also way too pink and red for your liking. But most of all, it was about the one thing you despised the most. The fake, ick ridden idea that love was something to be celebrated. It felt like the whole holiday was made to mock you and your disdain for the feeling that you swore to yourself that you’d never even sing about if you could help it. If Dolly Parton, as beautiful as she is, could write a song about another woman stealing her man, then you know love isn’t worth it.

And yet, here you are, hanging up the crude hearts and little cupids that your dad had you pick up from the local party store. You held the tape between your fingers, pushing up the current garland against the cold metal of the window frame until you found it sufficient, sticking said tape over the paper to keep it in place. The sound of the bay door caught your attention, and your face falls flat when you see your least favorite coworker.

“Having fun up there?” Eddie asks as he walks over to you, not quite as tall at you were standing on the step stool underneath you.

“You think I’m having fun doing this?” You ask him, and he shakes his head.

“Knowing you, I’m sure you’re just delighted right now.”

“You know me so well already,” you say with a fake coo, bringing a hand to your heart for dramatic effect.

“That’s my job, sweethea-” You shoot Eddie a look that makes him stop mid sentence. “Sorry, ma’am,” he says with a nod, but he’s still smiling.

“Did you come to make a deposit today, Munson?” You ask, expecting a piece of chocolate to be pulled from his coveralls.

“Nope, you ran me dry. Gotta wait until all the Valentine’s chocolate goes on sale for more,” he says with a shrug.

“Then what did you come in here for?” You ask, not sure why else he needs to be in here bothering you.

“It’s slow today,” he says pointing a thumb back at the bay, “Thought you might need some help.”

Initially the thought irritated you that Eddie wanted to slack off in the garage to help you. The guys out in the bay would never abandon their post, finding something to do to help out a bit. You wondered if Eddie even asked if anyone needed any help. But the more you thought about it, the more you thought about all the work you needed to get done that was being taken up by this stupid decorating.

So, Eddie wanted to help you? Fine.

You step down from your stool and walk over to your desk, grabbing another garland and walking it over to him. “Here,” you say handing him the paper, “hang this up like I did that one.” You hand him the little roll of scotch tape and turn around, heading back to your desk. Wordlessly, you grab a stack of invoices and start going over them.

If Eddie has any issue with the task you gave him, he didn’t say. Wordlessly, he followed your instructions and hung the garland up like you told him. You barely paid him much attention while you worked to separate the papers by date, and then again by name. It wasn’t until he approached the counter that you even remembered he was there. He looked over the other decorations that sat there and parsed through them.

“These need to go anywhere specific?” He asks, picking up a small stack of assorted hearts and other cut outs.

“Nope, just make it look nice,” you say, barely looking up at him.

“Aye aye, captain,” he says as he turns on his heel, walking away without another word.

From then on only the sounds of the radio and Eddie’s occasional ripping of tape or fiddling of papers could be heard in the lobby. You cringed at the lovey-dovey songs that came from your dad’s office, wishing you could go in and just turn the damn thing off at this point.

“Hey Dad,” you called towards his door. You only called him dad at work if you really wanted something, so you hoped he would be more inclined to listen to your request by calling him that.

“Yes dear?” He calls back in a sing songy tone.

“Can you put it on The HXC, please?”

You hear the scrambling static of the radio stations as your dad turns the dial, eventually landing on the local rock station. It’s about half way through Metallica’s Master of Puppets, which wasn’t your favorite, but it was better than the bullshit playing before.

“Oh, hell yeah,” you hear Eddie say. Looking up at him, you see he looks as if he’s playing air guitar to the music, bobbing forward and back as he does.

“Fan of Metallica?” You ask him. He stops and turns to look at you, almost surprised that you’re even speaking to him.

“Huge fan,” he says with a grin and you nod your head. “I know this song on guitar.”

“Of course you play guitar,” you say, rolling your head dramatically as you speak.

“Does that do anything for you?” He asks playfully, his eyebrows jumping up and down.

“Not a lick,” you say, deadpanning him.

“Damn, I was sure you liked guys in bands.” He says, snapping his fingers.

“Another assumption,” you say, pointing at him. “Bold of you to assume I like anything. Or anyone for that matter.”

“You don’t even have a celebrity crush?” You shake your head. You may have a poster of David Lee Roth in your room, but Eddie didn’t need to know that. You told yourself it was more for appreciation sake than admiration anyway. “Damn, do you like anything?”

“I like rock music an and ice cold beer.”

“You must be your father’s favorite son,” Eddie quips with a laugh.

“I like girly things, too,” you say defensively.

“Do you like flowers?” How specific.

“I like some flowers.” You think for a moment. “Mostly sunflowers. They bloom at my favorite time of year.”

“Ah, so you’re a fall girl, huh?”

“I like the transition between summer and fall. The weather starts to cool down, but isn’t too cold yet. And it’s close to Halloween.”

“Oh, you like Halloween? What’s your favorite scary movie?” Eddie asks, walking over to your desk, leaning over the counter.

“Um, probably Halloween. Big fan of Michael Meyers.”

“That’s a good one. What about Friday the 13th?”

You shift in your chair to better face him. “It was good, but not my favorite. I couldn’t believe it was his mom the whole time.”

“I know! What a twist, right?” Eddie says throwing his hands up.

“Right! I was so--wait a minute.” You put a finger up and close your eyes. “We’re at work. We should be working.”

“Shit, you’re right. Sorry, boss!” Eddie calls out towards your dad’s office.

“You guys were fine! I was enjoying the conversation,” your dad says.

“Shoo,” Eddie says pretending to wipe his forehead with his hand. “Not gonna lose our jobs today.”

“I wasn’t worried about that,” you say, peering around him to check out the work he’s done. To your surprise, it doesn’t look half bad. The hearts all seem to be in a neat zig-zag pattern along the glass of the bay, alternating between designs so it doesn’t look too crowded in one spot. “Not bad,” you say, giving a nod towards the decorations.

“Oh, thanks,” Eddie says, turning to look at his work. “It’s kinda nice to turn your brain off and just tape things.”

“I have stuff to hang from the ceiling if you’re ready for the next task,” you say, reaching under your desk for a plastic bag full of more decorations.

“Yeah, I can do that,” Eddie says, looking up at the ceiling. “I’ll probably need a ladder, though.”

“Well, duh. Didn’t expect you to jump the whole time,” you say with a laugh. Eddie’s head snaps to you, a wide grin spreading across his face. “What?” You ask, unsure of his reaction.

“You laughed,” he said.

“Yeah, I know how to laugh,” you say defensively. “I’m not as stuffy as you think I am. I just take my job very seriously. This place is going to be mine one day and I treat it as such.”

“That’s so cool.”

“What, that I’m going to own this place?” Eddie nods. You shrug, not trying to make a big deal out of it. “I don’t know if it’s “cool,” per say. It’s a lot of responsibility.”

“Yeah, but you’re going to be a cool boss lady. Can’t wait to work under you.”

The thought of Eddie being someone under you one day was enough to make you smile. You’d be his boss, and you’d get to tell him what to do without question from your dad.

“That’s if you make it that long,” you chuckle.

“True, but I don’t see myself leaving anytime soon. Really like it here so far.”

“That’s because you’re in here doing piddly work for me instead of your actual job.”

Eddie waves his hand at you with a pshh. “That’s just an added perk. I really do like working on cars. It’s fun to do stuff with my hands.”

“Well, I guess we’ll see what happens. Maybe you’ll be the next Bob. He’s been here since the previous owner.”

“Yeah, that dude is seriously old. Like, should have retired ten years ago old.”

“He tried to, but I think his wife was trying to get him to go out more and he didn’t want to, so he came back to work.”

“He kinda reminds me of my uncle. Really hard worker.” Eddie’s cheery expression drops at the mention of his uncle and you’re quick to wonder what could be making him so despondent over the subject. But, you choose not to pry for the sake of time being more wasted.

“Well, you better go get that ladder,” you say after a quiet beat. Eddie looks at you and nods.

“Where’s it at?”

“In the back room,” you say, pointing your thumb behind you. Eddie nods again and takes off.

You get a few moments of peace before Eddie is lugging the ladder into the lobby. He gets right to work, not bothering to ask you where things should be hung. But he seems to be getting on fine on his own, so you preoccupy yourself with your work. A solid hour goes by with no words spoken, only the sounds of the radio and Eddie going up and down the ladder to be heard. It was slow season in the shop, so you were able to get a lot done in a fairly quick amount of time. Setting down the final invoice, you decide it’s time to take a smoke break.

“Tony, I’m running outside,” you call out, throwing on your jacket.

“I’ll cover phones,” your father calls back.

“Takin’ a smoke?” Eddie asks as he descends from the ladder.

“Yeah, I’ll be right back. There’s more in the bag you can put up if you want.”

“I’m gonna come out with you if that’s cool,” Eddie says, setting the remaining decorations down on the counter. You sigh, sagging your shoulders.

“Well hurry up then,” you say as you head for the bay door.

Eddie rushes ahead of you, pulling the door open and holding it for you. He does a bow to usher you inside the bay and you roll your eyes at him. Once you’re through the threshold, Eddie bolts past you to his locker, quickly putting his coat on as he tries to catch up with you. As you push the door open, his long arm extends from behind you, his body going flush against yours as he swings it open all the way. The cold air hits you and instantly chills your body, but you rush into it just to get away from the man standing behind you.

“You really have a problem with personal space,” you say as you walk over to the plastic ashtray.

“Would you be surprised to hear that I’ve been told that before?” Eddie says, fishing through his pocket for his cigarettes.

“Not at all. I think you need a ruler to help you judge your distance sometimes,” you say, pulling your lighter out to light your own cigarette. You try to spin it a few times, but it just wont seem to catch a spark no matter how hard you try.

“Need a light?” Eddie asks, taking a few steps toward you.

“Fuck, I guess so,” you say shaking your lighter to find it’s ran out of fluid. You turn towards him and flip your hand palm side up, fully expecting him to hand you his lighter. Instead, you find him directly in front of you, which makes you stop in your tracks. He raises his hand, capturing the end of the cigarette in your mouth and holding it in place. You watch as he brings the end of his own lit cigarette and connects it with yours. You get a good look at him up close; his face covered in small freckles and a scar on his cheek. His plump lips wrapped around his cigarette. His big, brown eyes that look up at you, making you feel caught for looking.

“Puff on it,” Eddie says around his cigarette when you don’t do anything. Your brain kicks back on after not being able to compute the closeness and you start to puff on the stick, feeling the heat entering your mouth as the cigarette catches. Smoke billows from between your lips and you would think Eddie would take that as his cue to pull away. But he doesn’t. He takes a long drag from his cigarette, letting the smoke pour from his mouth barely a foot away from your face. You take a step back from him, starting to feel uneasy with how his proximity was making you feel.

“J-just give me the lighter next time,” you say, turning your head to blow the smoke from your mouth.

Eddie smiles at your words, finally straightening up and putting some distance between the two of you. You release the tension in your shoulders that you didn’t realize you were holding and bring the cigarette to your mouth to take a long drag from it.

“You have pretty eyes.” You look at Eddie with shock, not expecting him to say something like that to you.

“Don’t look at my eyes,” you say as you turn around, feeling a blush creeping up on your face. Eddie laughs, walking around you to be in front of you again. You turn once more, but he just follows you as you move. “Ugh, you are so annoying,” you say, stomping your foot in frustration.

“I’ve been told that before, too,” Eddie says with a laugh.

“Yes, there was a part that was supposed to be delivered to us yesterday, but we still have not received it?”

It was another typical day in the office. A part not being delivered when promised. People dropping off their cars with complaints about noises from their engines or their heaters not working. The radio playing sappy love songs that drove you crazy with each passing second. Well, that was not typical, but your dad insisted on keeping the station on considering the special occasion.

It was valentines day.

“Okay, I’ll hold,” you say, letting out a sigh when you heard the sound of waiting music start playing. As you tapped the pen on your desk, you felt the cold rush of air coming in from the front door. Not bothering to look up, you tell them politely that you’ll be with them momentarily and continue waiting on the phone. It was only when your name was said that you finally looked up at the customer.

Only, it wasn’t a customer.

“Are you her?” The man asks. A sinking feeling fills you as you see he’s holding a bouquet of roses.

“Maybe,” you say slowly, still holding the phone to your ear as you stand.

“Well, these are for her. So if you could make sure she gets them, I’d appreciate it.” The man sets the glass down on the counter and turns around, heading out the door to leave, another cold gush of wind following behind him.

You’re left with the roses on your desk, staring you down. Picking them up, you bring them closer to examine them.

“Hello, are you still there?” The voice on the other line pulls you from your current predicament, leaving you to set the roses aside for later. They sat there, mocking you as you argued on the phone with the parts dealer about not meeting their deadline and putting your shop behind. But after sorting out the ordeal that was the missing part, your mind is immediately back on the flowers that taunted you during the duration of your call.

Maybe your dad got them for you? You don’t know why he would, knowing about your feelings towards the holiday, but you wouldn’t totally put it past him. Would it be weird to admit that you kind of enjoyed getting them? It goes against all your morals, hating the idea of love and all, but it was nice that someone thought of you. Oh god, are you smiling over flowers?

Grabbing the vase, you spin the flowers around to look at them closer. That’s when a little card catches your eye. You pluck it from it’s stand and read it over.

“Sorry they’re not sunflowers.

Love, Eddie”

“That son of a bitch,” you whisper to yourself. You immediately stand from your chair, taking the vase in your hand and march right out into the bay. “Eddie Munson!” You call out, loud enough to be heard over the music. The guys all stop what their doing and look at you, watching intently as you stomp your way over to where Eddie was working on a car that was up on the lift.

“Oh, hey,” he says when he notices you.

“Don’t “hey” me,” you spit, stopping just short of him. “What the hell is this?” You shove the vase into his chest.

“I see you got my gift. Happy Valentine’s day, sweetheart.” He says with gooey sentiments.

“Have you not gathered that I don’t do Valentine’s day. Or love. Or any of this bullshit.” You continue to shove the flowers in his chest, but he doesn’t budge, simply shoving his hands in his pockets.

“You told me you like flowers. I told them to put on there my apologies for them not being sunflowers. Did they forget that?” He asks with genuine concern.

“No, it’s on there,” you say, relenting and pulling the flowers away from him.

“Oh, good. I asked them for sunflowers. But, like you mentioned, they are out of season.”

You huffed, wrapping your hands around the vase and look down at the flowers. Sure, they weren’t sunflowers, but Eddie did try to get them for you. Was it really such a bad thing for someone to do something nice for you? “You really asked them?” You say, not looking up at him.

“I did,” he says with a smile. “But,” he starts, taking a step towards you, “if you don’t want them, I’ll gladly take them back. Give them to someone else. I’m sure I can find someone out there who wants to be my valentine.” His hand reaches out for the flowers, but you snatch them away, turning your body from him.

“Like hell you will,” you say, taking a step back. You don’t miss the way Eddie lights up when you reject his offer, and it almost has you taking it back and telling him to shove them up his ass instead. But, you’d be damned if something that belonged to you was going to go to someone else. “You got these for me, so I’m keeping them.”

“I guess if that’s what you want,” Eddie says with a shrug.

“It is,” you say, clutching the flowers to your chest. “But, that doesn’t mean I’m your valentine. So don’t take it that way.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” Eddie says before turning back to his car. You give him a hmpf before turning around to leave the bay. That’s when you notice all the eyes are on you.

“What?” You call out, and the guys all go back to what they were working on before.

tags:

@meetmeatyourworst @hazydespair @gloomweed @eddies-stinky-battle-jacket @prestinalove @rowynbriarsalix

@daveythorntonslocker @losingmygrasponreality @princesssunderworld @eddiesguitarskills @clown420cunt

@barnesandsteven @yujyujj @person-005 @definitionwanderlust @hsdcmmjune @micheledawn1975 @emxxblog @l3xi3luv

@browneyes-8288 @djodirt @munsonsfairy @appl3ogr @sammybrrr @awkward00noodle @callhermyname @american-idiot-jpg

@g3n3zshack @coolkidzen @xlostitx @katethetank @kitkatq05 @animechick555 @munsonzgf @anonymouskiwi

@whisperingwillowxox @rizzraa @marvelcasey05 @melvin333 @morgan-the-freeman @bl0ssomanddie @molisighs

@blahox @punkprincess1999 @kelsiegrin @littlemissholy @tvserie-s-world @avalon-wolf

if you'd like to be added or removed please let me know!

#lesservillain #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fan fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #sunshine!eddie munson #sunshine!eddie munson x grumpy!reader #eddie munson x grumpy!reader #sunshine!eddie munson x reader #eddie munson st #eddie munson st4 #eddie munson stranger things

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lijojo · 2 years ago

Text

genshin men sleeping habits

premise: in the early glows of the morning, you wake up in the vice grip of your lover. while it’s very heartwarming, you need to go to work. how does he convince you to stay in bed with him a little longer?

tw: suggestive for the last one

pretends to be asleep but doesn’t let up with his fucking grip regardless

you’ve. tried. everything. you tried nudging him awake, even gave him a couple kisses, but he doesn’t let up. instead, he groans and flips over, taking you along with him. you yelp, unable to brace for impact as you’re suddenly on your side.

he shuffles a bit, wrapping his legs around you a little tighter (if that was even possible). he presses his nose into the crook of your neck. he sighs, content.

after minutes of effort, you decide to relinquish any hopes of waking him up.

“i give up,” you say. “you win. a little longer won’t hurt, right?”

you get no response. but you don’t really need one anyway.

he’s not a very good pretender, with the way his lips can’t help but break out into a little triumphant smile.

alhaitham, kaeya, kaveh, childe, tighnari, thoma, zhongli, diluc, ayato, venti, baizhu, kazuha, scaramouche, xiao

he ambushes you when you least expect it

after many attempts to squeeze out of his hold, you’re successful. out of breath, maybe, but at least you gained the ability to finally roll out of bed and start the day.

sitting up, you give one last glance to your lover. the way his chest rises and falls so rhythmically. the peaceful look on his face. the way he squints when the sunlight hits his eyes. how his hands unconsciously look for you again. you almost feel bad.

that is, until you take one—maybe two, if he’s feeling generous—steps away from the bed. without any kind of sign, signal, or warning, he launches out of bed. he lunges at you like a ravenous wolf, wrapping his arms around your waist and hauling you back to bed with great force. he huffs when you land on his chest, but he’s quick to recover.

he wraps his arms around your shoulders, locking you in with his legs. “you’re not leaving me.”

you can’t help the grin spreading across your lips as you squirm. “let me go. i’m going to be late—”

he retaliates by peppering your neck with chaste kisses. “nuh uh. yo can’t leave me. my heart won’t allow it.”

you can’t even turn to face him. “honey, if you don’t let me go, next time i’m going to burn your breakfast.”

“uh huh.”

“i’ll steal all your favorite clothes and hide them,” you threaten.

“please do. i’m sure you’ll love my birthday suit,” he quips back.

“and i’m going to use all the hot water.”

“we can always shower together.”

“i’ll—”

“do you’re worst. i can take it,” he teases. “i’m still not letting you go. i chose you, i’m going to keep you ‘til the end of time. forever!”

with that, he presses sloppery kisses all over your face despite your protests that he needs to brush his teeth. even so, you can’t help but feel as if staying for five minutes more might not be so bad.

kaeya, kaveh, childe, thoma, venti, itto, heizou, ayato

“assures” you that getting ready doesn’t take as long as you know it does

“what if i did your hair and makeup for you?” he muses, pressing a chaste kiss to your cheek.

you scoff playfully. “do you even know my makeup routine?”

“it can’t be as complicated as mine. oh! you could eat breakfast while i button up your clothes for you.”

his offer gets a laugh out of you. “we both know you’re not going to finish buttoning it up.”

“hm? whatever do you mean?” his hands drag down your waist to your hips, tracing slow circles. “you don’t trust me to put your clothes on for you?”

“i don’t think they’ll stay on, that’s the problem,” you say, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. “you know how you get in the morning.”

“do i? how about you remind me? my little friend could use some help waking up—”

you give him a look of warning, to which he groans. “fine, fine.”

with that, he’s left you in silence, absentmindedly petting your head. he closes his eyes.

...

“if you aren’t going to say anything, i’m going drop kick you.”

he huffs. “don’t rush your genius boyfriend. what if i brushed your teeth while you brushed your hair? as they say, teamwork makes the dream work.”

you furrow your brows. “wouldn’t you get toothpaste on my shirt?”

“how about the other way around?”

you smile. “hmm... i like the sound of that.”

he smiles back, pressing a kiss to your nose. “well okay then. five more minutes it is then.”

you snuggle into his embrace, knowing very that he just spent the last five minutes trying to convince you to stay for five minutes more.

gorou, childe, heizou, cyno, ayato, baizhu, diluc, zhongli, itto, kazuha, tighnari, venti, albedo

he suggests the two of you go for round two

he puts on a mischievous little grin, one you know is up to no good. “what if we ‘slept’ a little more and you called in sick?”

his hand crawls down to your inner thigh, tracing teasing circles. “you’d be too sore to go to work anyways...you need to take care of yourself. what would your boss say if she saw you walking with a limp. hm? what do you say?”

you scoff at that. “i don’t think the solution you’re thinking of is going to help that.”

he purses his lips, as if in deep contemplation. with his free hand, he grips your hips a little tighter to pull you back towards him. you stiffen in surprise at something hard pressing against the curve of your ass. his morning wood twitches. “are you sure? maybe you’re sore because you haven’t done the proper stretches yet. luckily for you, your precious boyfriend knows a couple ways to get your hamstrings all loosened up. i could draw us a bath after... turn on some music... maybe go again? doesn’t that sound good?”

you chuckle. “you’re impossible.”

he presses a soft, open-mouth kiss to the crook of your neck. “only with you, love.”

scaramouche, kaeya, ayato, childe, kazuha, thoma, tighnari

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