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bvidzsoo · 5 months

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Your desire

⬦Sugar daddy!Seonghwa⬦

TW: suggestive

Word count: 3,9k

A/N: I hate the grip Ateez has on me, I have never ever written so many drabbles or whatever, I'm a long story kinda gal but here they are...torturing me. Anyways, Seonghwa went ahead and posted on IG today and when I saw him my mind instantly went omg that's some sugar daddy vibes, idk why, don't ask, thank you. Feedback is very much so appreciated! Enjoy!

I really would have never imagined a year ago that I would be attending such an event like this one. It was even shocking to myself. But it looked like I was the only one who felt out of place as the people surrounding me seemed to know each other as they indulged in small talk and friendly chatter as if they were old friends catching up. The silky dress felt too tight against my skin and I couldn’t help but pull on it, hoping by some miracle that it would loosen up and wouldn’t wrap around my ribs as it was trying to suffocate me. The little golden purse I clutched in my hands tightly was expensive, too expensive, an item I could’ve never afforded by myself. I wasn’t into fancy things, so even if I could’ve afforded it at some point in life, I still wouldn’t have purchased it. The faces of people seemed to merge into one as I took a sip of my champagne, smiling politely when the older man next to me pointed his glass in my direction before taking a sip himself. I wished I were invisible, but the red dress and the red matching lips only placed me in the spotlight. And if it weren’t for my outfit, being by the side of Park Seonghwa, a successful and young CEO, definitely put me in the spotlight. I could feel the curious gazes of men and women alike, even the envy as some whispered as Seonghwa and I glided through the crowd, wanting to reach the bar. He said he needed something strong, perhaps some whiskey, as the people around us were giving him a headache. Currently, we were conversing with an elderly pair who were big names in the makeup industry, Choi San having joined us not too long ago. He was a rising CEO, almost always in the spotlight, as his magazine was becoming bigger and bigger, visited by more and more celebrities lately. He was Seonghwa’s biggest competitor, constantly challenging him publicly and often mentioning him when it had nothing to do with Seonghwa. Choi San liked to provoke people and taunt, living off of the hate and attention directed his way. I didn’t need to have a PhD in psychology to spot all these things, it was clear as day as he flashed his white teeth in the direction of the elderly pair, bragging about last month’s issue and how much money it made. The elderly pair didn’t seem too impressed, but they congratulated him before diverting their attention back onto Seonghwa, who was patiently waiting for San to stop his theatrics. If I wouldn’t have known Seonghwa so well, I would’ve never known he was irritated, his jaw barely clenched, grip just a little too tight on his glass of champagne. I quietly cleared my throat, getting his attention. His round eyes watched me, face devoid of any emotion, but the glimmer in his eyes assured me that he was feeling fine. I offered him a small smile and his cheeks twitched before he looked away, focusing back on the elderly pair. They were laughing about something I didn’t bother paying attention to, eyes falling on an already staring Choi San as I took another sip of my champagne. It almost made me choke; I couldn’t deny that he was a good-looking man, but I only had eyes for Seonghwa. At least for now.

“I’ve heard about the deal you made with an American firm,” San spoke up with a smirk, one eyebrow raised in Seonghwa’s direction, “Congratulations, breaking through on the American market isn’t something easy.”

Seonghwa chuckled, but it lacked humor, “San, when I made my breakthrough on the American market you were still running around, trying to find a headquarter for your company.”

The elderly pair laughed at the very harmless jab, but San’s smirk slightly faded, annoyed by Seonghwa’s comeback. He was probably right, but I wouldn’t know, I have never been interested in their world of business.

“You look gorgeous, Y/N.” The sudden shift of conversation made me tense as the eyes of four people fell on me, San’s a little hungrier than the rest. I forced a smile on my face, grip tightening on the glass of champagne. I wished the dress didn’t show as much cleavage as it did, and that my hair wasn’t in a low bun, unable to cover my shoulders, “Isn’t that necklace—”

“The latest Saint Laurent Teardrop Chain Links Necklace?” Seonghwa raised an eyebrow before taking a sip of his whiskey, “It is, San. And it’s custom made.”

San’s eyes fell back one me and I cleared my throat, feeling awkward, as the elderly lady eyed me a little bit suspiciously, I felt obliged to speak up, “It’s not something I usually wear, but Seonghwa insisted.”

“I think I have seen that dress on a magazine cover, not too long ago.” The elderly lady noted, eyes narrowed at me. I felt like they could tell how poor I actually was compared to them. It felt like a paper with the words ‘intruder’ was glued to my back and everyone was staring, pointing their fingers at me, or whispering vile things. I gulped, but before I could speak up, I felt an arm sneak around my shoulders, squeezing my arm lightly.

“You have seen it right, then, Mrs. Eom, it was on my magazine.” Seonghwa said with a smirk, sending me a wink which made me slightly blush. The day he saw it on the mannequin he sent me a picture and texted me that he’d get it for me. I refused, because it was truly too much and it also cost a lot, and also, I didn’t really have a fitting event where I would wear it to. So, I guess Seonghwa had to do something about that and that’s how I was dragged along to this fundraiser for disabled people. This wasn’t something which had been in the contract I have signed two months ago, but I didn’t dare bring it up when Seonghwa showed up to my apartment in the morning, holding two designer boxes and a designer paper bag. He said he didn’t have time to have breakfast with me, but he expected to see me in the evening, wearing everything he handed me. Before I could accept or refuse him, he was running off, phone at his ear as he spoke to someone important. I could only sigh and hope for a dinner in a very fancy restaurant, instead I found myself at a place infested with very important and insanely rich people. I was sure I even saw the prime minister like half an hour ago.

“Oh, delightful!” Mrs. Eom exclaimed, but no emotion came through her voice, eyes watching me almost accusingly. Why did an old hag have beef with me when she didn’t even know me? Before I could say something inappropriate, Seonghwa gave my shoulder another squeeze, swiftly taking his arm off my body. He seemed to know me well too, a glance at my face and he was able to tell what I was feeling and thinking. We hadn’t spent too much time together in these past two months, but it felt like we understood each other on a deeper level, beyond words even. I looked around as the orchestra started playing, the front of the room slightly clearing as people made place for those dancing. My eyes fell back onto Seonghwa, and as his eyes were trained somewhere else, I dared staring at him openly. He was an absolutely gorgeous man, breathtaking even. His black hair was slicked back with three strands framing the right side of his face, longer strands than the others poking around on his nape. His shoulders were relaxed yet his posture was straight and proper. His silky black shirt, with three buttons undone at the top, was tucked inside his black dress pants, an Yves Saint Laurent belt keeping his outfit together. The black velvet coat reached just bellow his thighs and his Yves Saint Laurent shoulder bag had been disregarded a while ago at the table we sat at. Despite my obvious staring, Seonghwa remained oblivious to it, however, San didn’t. His eyes were narrowed and lips pulled into a grin as we made eye contact. My cheeks burned and I quickly averted my eyes. Catching feelings wasn’t written into the contract, or what would happen if Seonghwa and I did fall for each other, a thing which was far from happening. I wasn’t in love with him, but I had eyes, and I found him extremely attractive. Whether he was dressed up or wore something casual, Seonghwa always looked spectacular. As a waiter passed with a tray in their hands, San quickly placed his empty glass on it and cleared his throat, interlacing his hands in front of himself.

“Miss Y/N, may I have the honor to dance with you first tonight?” San’s eyebrows were raised as he looked at me with a smirk and I stared at him without a reaction. Was I allowed to dance with him? Seonghwa was right next to me, he certainly wouldn’t like that. And I didn’t want to dance with him either, he sometimes made me feel very uncomfortable with his unnecessary comments and over the top compliments. But before anyone could interject, San took two steps towards me and then grabbed my left hand carefully, a smile erupting on his face, “Come.”

And before I could refuse him, he was pulling me after himself, making me hand my purse over to Seonghwa in a hurry as San lead the way to the dance floor. I felt awkward as curious eyes watched us, some people greeting San as we passed by. His grip turned firm and I could feel my palm get sweaty as I braced myself for what was to come. It couldn’t be that bad, besides, I would only dance with him for a short amount of time before I would excuse myself to the bathroom in hopes of getting away from him. San stopped in the center, facing me with a charming smile, sharp eyes watching me closely. I cleared my throat and placed my hand on his shoulder, allowing his hand on my lower back to pull me closer towards himself. I slightly tensed, but willed myself to relax in his arms. I didn’t quite enjoy dancing with Seonghwa’s competitor and biggest rival, especially not when I knew how much distaste Seonghwa had towards San.

“Fancy seeing you here tonight, Y/N,” San spoke up as he swayed us to the slow beat of the orchestra, “I didn’t think you’d attend such an event.”

San didn’t know what type of relationship was between Seonghwa and I, but he has seen us together quite often, always bugging Seonghwa whether I was his girlfriend or not. I most certainly wasn’t.

“It came as a surprise to me as well.” I admitted quietly, focusing on not stepping on San’s feet or on my own dress. The high heels were also slightly uncomfortable, I couldn’t help but be hyperaware of every move I made.

“So, Seonghwa didn’t plan on bringing you along, huh?” A satisfied smirk made it onto San’s face and I sighed, looking over his shoulder.

“He most certainly did since I’m here, don’t you think?” I couldn’t help but slightly snap, sending him the smallest glare as we made eye contact.

“Of course,” San chuckled, pulling his eyebrows up, “he wouldn’t want to leave behind his eye candy.”

His comment didn’t sit well with me, but I just bit the inside of my cheek and let it go, not wanting to give San the satisfaction of seeing me annoyed. He waited a few more seconds, probably thinking I was formulating my answer, but when the silence continued to stretch on, San chuckled to himself, looking amused as I dared take a glance at him.

“Everything you’re wearing tonight is quite expensive, isn’t it?” He continued, eyes running over my frame. It certainly felt uncomfortable as I could easily spot the lust in them as his eyes stayed a little too long on my exposed collarbones.

“Yes, they were expensive.” I hummed, looking over his shoulder when San glanced at my face.

“Bought them yourself?” His tone feigned innocence, but the smirk on his lips made it obvious that he was prodding and jabbing, “Didn’t think a university student could afford all of these things, to be honest.”

I gulped as my throat felt suddenly dry, heartrate picking up. Of course I couldn’t afford what I was wearing tonight, two months ago I could barely pay rent and the tuition fees for my course at the university. Seonghwa seemed like an angel in disguise at the time, however, lately I’ve been feeling guilty for accepting all of his money instead of trying to make some myself. In my defense, my itinerary was so packed I could barely find a place which would hire me even half norm, it was frustrating.

“Some of these were gifts.” I opted to answer, clearing my throat when San’s fingers slightly dug into my lower back, pulling me even closer to himself. Our bodies were almost touching, his musky scent invaded my nostrils. I certainly didn’t like it.

“You know,” He spoke up again, eyebrows furrowed, “Seonghwa is quite known for changing partners after like…half a year, I guess his standards are too high or something. Unless…”

My heartbeat paused for a second as I looked San in the eyes, “Unless, you’re not his girlfriend but his whore—”

“I think you’ve spent enough time with Y/N for a lifetime, Choi San.” The sudden harsh voice made me flinch as I carefully peeled myself away from San, heart beating like crazy as I turned my head. I was met with a furious looking Seonghwa, kind eyes pulled into slits as he glared San down, jaw clenched. I noticed the people around us glancing our way, and when my eyes fell on San his chest was puffed out and eyes challenging as he stared down the taller man.

“Seonghwa,” I whispered and curled my fingers around his bicep, getting his attention, “He’s not worth causing a scene, let it go.”

His eyes bore into mine as I heard San scoff at my words, but before he could open his annoying mouth and say something else, Seonghwa gripped the hand I had around his bicep and peeled it off, hand slipping to my wrist as he turned around and took off, steps hurried. I struggled to keep up with him in my high heels and even ran into someone, having to hastily apologize as Seonghwa wasn’t stopping anytime soon. I noticed the direction we were storming in, the restrooms. I gulped and realized Seonghwa was angry and needed time away from everyone, probably to give me a lecture and break off the contract we had. I could only hope he wouldn’t ask for the money back; I couldn’t remember if that was a clause or not in the contract. We rounded the corner and Seonghwa kicked the door of the restroom open with his foot, shoulders raising and falling rapidly as we entered the men’s restroom. A guy, who looked like security, was washing his hands, pausing when he noticed us.

“Sir—”

“Get out.” Seonghwa’s voice was low as he glared at the poor security guard, who seemed to be speechless for a few seconds.

“This is the men’s restroom—”

“And I said, get out.” Seonghwa emphasized his words again, staring daggers at the unbudging security guard, seemingly a glaring match breaking out between them. My nerves were rising, and I tapped my heel against the floor, biting my lower lip when nobody moved.

“Seonghwa.” I called out for him, but he didn’t look away from the security guard. However, the man broke his staring contest and looked at me, taken aback.

“Park Seonghwa?” He asked amazed and as I nodded, he quickly bowed his head and scurried out, making me let out a long sigh. My shoulders slouched forward as I pulled my hand out of Seonghwa’s, which made him whirl around and look at me with a sharp stare. I gulped and suddenly felt small underneath his eyes as his fury was directed at me only.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t want to dance with San, but I don’t think I had much of a chance,” I found myself explaining quickly, “And I didn’t want to cause a scene which would damage your reputation.”

Seonghwa took in a deep breath before releasing it, jaw clenching, “You’re not my whore, Y/N, you’re my sugar baby.”

I bit my lower lip, the term still making me feel slightly uncomfortable. I don’t think I could ever get used to it. I looked at the floor as Seonghwa sighed loudly again, realizing that he was angry at San and not me, having overheard his words.

“Yeah, I know.” I muttered as I saw Seonghwa’s polished shoes come into view as I was still looking down.

“You didn’t want to come tonight and I forced you into coming, I’m sorry.” His voice was soft and he looked guilty as I looked up at him, eyebrows furrowing.

“You didn’t force me, what are you talking about?” I asked confused.

“I saw how uncomfortable you were feeling all night.” He explained, playing with the rings on his fingers, “I also should’ve chosen a dress less revealing knowing your preferences, I’m sorry for that too—”

“Seonghwa, this dress is gorgeous!” I said with a chuckle as I pointed at it, hands shimmying down my hips, “Albeit a bit too revealing, and too expensive, but it’s beautiful and I appreciate your gesture, I hope you know that. Regardless of how I’ve been feeling tonight.”

Seonghwa gulped and took a step closer, eyes running over my frame before he looked back up into my eyes, “You are gorgeous, not the dress, Y/N. That’s just a piece of fabric.”

My cheeks flushed at his words and I averted my eyes shyly, feeling Seonghwa’s soft fingers grip my chin as he made me look at him again. He stepped even closer and his warmth wrapped around me, fruity scent enveloping me and making me shiver. Seonghwa certainly noticed as he studied my face for a reaction, but I was trying hard to contain the fluster I was feeling and my frantic heartbeat.

“Our contract is coming to an end next month,” Seonghwa whispered, as if he was afraid anyone would hear us, there was nobody but us inside the spacious and marble covered restroom, “Let’s extend it for another six months.”

“Six months?” I asked surprised, remembering well that Seonghwa’s contracts only lasted for three months. He hummed and nodded as he closed the gap between our bodies, tilting my head slightly up. It was rare that he stood so close and held me so boldly. We were rarely physical with each other, the occasional hand holding and kisses on the cheeks happened when I was feeling down or Seonghwa was feeling tired, and we made out a couple of times here and there when we were drunk. The contract made it clear that everything had to be consensual and if one person refused, it shouldn’t be brought up until they were ready to talk about it or made it obvious that they wanted it to happen. Seonghwa was a respectful and well-mannered man, there were few others like him, if none at all. My lips slightly parted as Seonghwa’s eyes fell on my lips and I closed my eyes when he started leaning in slowly, lips pressing against mine carefully, experimentally. It was so light that if I were to pull away, it felt like it never happened, but instead, I pressed myself firmly against him, Seonghwa’s hand coming to hold the side of my face. Our lips moved slowly against each other, testing, searching, savoring the other’s lips. My hands rested against his chest as his free hand went to hold my waist, slowly slipping to the place where San held onto earlier, my lower back. This time, goosebumps erupted on my skin and I slightly shuddered against Seonghwa as his long fingers dug into my skin, his lips picking up pace. I matched his feverish kisses, desperately wanting to tangle my fingers into the hair against his nape, but not wanting to mess up his hairstyle, so instead, I gripped the collar of his velvet coat, my other hand going around his shoulder. Seonghwa pulled me into himself totally, chests pressing together painfully as he sucked on my lower lip, carefully pressing his tongue against my mouth. I understood what he wanted and parted my lips for him, granting him access as he tilted my head up even more, hands clutching onto me firmly, his tongue carefully exploring my warm mouth. He tasted like the whiskey he had been drinking, and cherry. He loved cherry candies; he had probably eaten one not long before. My nose pushed against his cheek as our tongues tangled together, lapping at each other, a fire ignited inside me as my hand slipped up to his nape. Before I could second guess myself, I allowed my fingers to tangle into the short strands and I tugged on them, Seonghwa’s hand abruptly slipping down to my ass as he gave it a firm squeeze, making me gasp into his mouth. He took that momentum to suck on my tongue and suddenly my knees felt weak from the lack of air, but not just. I could devour him right here, but that wasn’t very lady like, nor too smart. Anyone could enter the restroom anytime. And despite the urgency in Seonghwa’s kiss, he sucked on my lower lip as he pulled back, pressing his forehead against mine. He was panting and I had to wipe the corner of my mouth as saliva threatened to drip down.

“Let’s do six months.” I rasped out, in the process of catching my breath. As I opened my eyes, I watched as Seonghwa’s teeth was attached to his plump lower lip, a deep hum leaving his throat as he agreed with my final answer.

“Good, I’ve still got a lot to offer to you.” He said as he opened his eyes and a smile instantly appeared on his lips. And then, his finger was rubbing underneath my lower lip and the corner of my mouth, chuckling as my own eyes fell onto Seonghwa’s unnaturally red lips. It made me blush as I allowed him to fix me up, hand giving my ass another squeeze, making me gasp as I jumped. The amused smile disappeared from his lips as a pleased smirk took its place.

“Let’s dance?” He asked and I nodded wordlessly, mesmerized by his voice and eyes as Seonghwa took a step back, hands falling from my body as I detached myself from him too, gulping nervously. He extended a hand and I placed my palm in his, fingers intertwining as he lead us towards the door.

I wouldn’t mind having Seonghwa as my sugar daddy for another six months, not if he would kiss me again and again like he kissed me tonight.

Masterlist (divider)

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batboyblog · 1 year

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hey thanks for not being super doomer over these anti-trans bills. i kept on seeing so many people being defeated over them and it messed up my mental health for a while, like nothing could be done. but you did bring up some good points and shed some light onto people who are actively fighting for us so i thank you again

The queer movement, in the US any ways, has always been cyclical, we make big gains and push forward, then there's a super scary backlash. We're right now at the hight of a really scary backlash thats focused on trans people in particular but is anti-queer more generally. It's intense but its important to remember these backlashes don't generally last very long, they are scary, but each time they've happened, the mid to late 1970s, the 1980s, the early 2000s, the tide has gone out and gay rights, LGBT rights, and society's acceptance of LGBT people has been farther along than before they have never ever managed to turn us back in the years since Stonewall.

And as intense and scary as this is in some ways it's better than last time, when I was a gay teenager. in those days... in 2004 and 2008 the Democrats running for President were uniformly against gay marriage (the big issue of that time) they were trying to get us to settle for the not marriage alternative of civil unions. Only a handful of Congresspeople (some of them gay themselves) in DEEP! blue districts dared to support gay marriage outright. Today the Democratic Party is the most pro-LGBT major political party in the world, you had the President and every Democrat of any note making statements for TDOV a few days ago and you're not seeing even red state Democrats back down and agree to be "a little transphobic" for votes. It felt a lot more lonely last time when it was us and a handful of allies fighting the backlash with most of the Democratic Party on the side lines handwringing and saying "well can't you wait?"

any ways this movement is and will always be a struggle, the rights we've won, the acceptance we've received has never just been given, it's been won, through hard work. Everyone has to dedicate themselves to work in their corner of the earth to the best of their abilities and to push themselves past what they think they can do. That means hooking up with LGBT rights groups on the ground to protest, to rally, to try to support and comfort those queer people who are down and out in whatever way right now, it means digging deep and having hard and awkward conversations with the people in your life, if you're gay or trans or whatever and you got that one aunt/uncle/cousin/whoever in your life that loves you to bits but you know still votes Republican and you just don't bring it up because you don't want to hurt the relationship... have the talk keep having the talk as many times as you need to. Tell your grandparents if they don't know, tell your parents (if its safe or if you don't need their money any more) tell co-workers who don't know etc, they vote for us 2 to 1 if they know they know one of us. Finally register to vote, make sure all your friends particularly if you're young are registered and vote, vote in every election. Trust me it's AMAZINGLY easy to find the email of candidates for school board or city council and it's amazingly easy to ask questions. Last election I emailed every school board candidate about Holocaust education, and the state rep candidate about trans rights, she wrote me back a lovely note and mailed be a sticker she'd picked up from a trans rights group. It's amazingly easy to get involved, I volunteered with my local democrats for one election and they offered me the #3 spot in their local party, I have the phone numbers of my state rep and state senator without trying really, you can get in the room with these people, with candidates for governor, congress, I have my picture with 3 US Presidents? its not hard to do, and you can use chances like that to talk to them and show them your humanity and leave an impression that really matters in the long run.

sorry to RAMBLE but it's important that everyone do their part, pick a little something, a project to push this thing forward, people doom scrolling, particularly posting about how its hopeless does not help, posting in general doesn't help much even if its not doomerism, I think in the years after the anti-gay marriage Bush backlash we got very online and we got very "progress just happens" and a lot of people fell out of the habit or came of age without the habit of protest and without a local queer community or local progressive community and its very important in the face of this to find or build those and also understand in some places its gonna be years of work to get where we want to go, but we will and it'll be worth all the work.

#LGBT #Queer #gay rights #trans #trans rights #politics #ask

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n0bluev · 1 month

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redraw(ish) link

Um. Actually, ☝️, Geto is fun. (No offense but skill issue, Gojo. (☝️.))

___

Very random impromptu god gojo AU thingy ??? I got the idea 5 seconds before drawing this (: brain empty….!! big eyes !!!eyes… GOJO? Gojo has eyes…- "BIG" eyes……..,'God' coded? Lets go with that.) and only thought a little while drawing so theres not much lol

But uhm.; So gojo is a young god ™ (around 20yo, typical gojo.) but despite that, he’s been overpowering other gods who have been there for thousands of years since the moment he was born (breaking the balance of the world as he does) so thats fun -- gods are immortal but he "doesnt count" yet right? his existence is an insult to the rest of the world. ‘Elders dont like him’ (that goes both for old gods AND old worshipers.) [<—aka ‼️OVERPOWERED YOUNGSTER OLD PEOPLE DONT LIKE ✅ (CHECK!) VERY GOJO!]

Theres a worship system thing going on in this AU ; A lot of people are very religious and follow these gods and whatnot (but there are probably groups that reject this lifestyle, or that sought out taboo methods instead, staying away from places where strict laws rule) [hashtag insert worldbuilding] —— GETO (born same year as « gojo ») HAS BEEN BROUGHT UP IN THIS SYSTEM SINCE A RELATIVELY YOUNG AGE AND IS FULLY EDUCATED ABOUT THE MANNERS AND RITUALS HE SHOULD DO AND BLABLABLA. Theres a hierarchy in the church/cult thing so theres higher ups for him to dislike while politely kissing ass (amen). Idk what he thinks of the gods (it’s between him being a model worshiper that truly has faith in them & him secretly having something against them for some reason, only believing in his own gatekeep girlbossness or something¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

EITHER WAY. he goes to meet gojo at some point. Probably because he has been asked to. Maybe the story is about (/or at least starts with) elders ™ deciding they want to find ways to control / restrain gojo (idk), leading to satosugu eventually teaming up to say fuck that.

Something something geto being « favoured by a god [gojo] » thus having a definite place in this world and gojo feeling like geto’s existence « grounds him » and gives him proper meaning in what to use his strength for and whatnot. Whatever (i doubt im going to write this so im not gonna elaborate lol sorry (i love me some character psychology but 💤💤)) Something something they are a destined cosmic pair your honour. Hashtag soulmates in every universe including this one HAh

Kind of an afterthought but: Gojo adopting megumi is definitely canon here too so 👍👍👍👍 (megumi is probably human but idk, as long as theyre wholesome im sold <3<3) SO LIKE, SOME PLOT HAS TO HAPPEN TO MAKE THEM FAMILY YKNOW - but deal with that yourself 😌(💤) (unless i come back to this idea with some deranged brainrot i didnt ask for + the will to create & share it✌️)

(Ps i decided gojo can change size so he can be human sized (oooo sneaky!), but ‼️‼️he can also be pocket size‼️‼️(i think thats the most important to note thank you v much), hes not stuck on giant mode yay :D)

___

Everythings so sketchy haha, BUT GETO YOUR HONOUR! ah…no earring on this screenshot tho mybad

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librarycards · 4 months

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hello! i apologize in advance this is probably something that you get asked a lot. but do you have any recs on literary magazines to submit to? im a trans poet, ive been writing for over a decade but never shared anything and ive been wanting to try to send my stuff to get it published somewhere. obv ive been google searching but theres so many big and small publications and i was wondering if you have ones you like especially and/or tips on how to choose a magazine/journal to submit to. thanks a lot! <3

no worries, thank you for reaching out!! i've been publishing for like 8 years + an editor for almost 4, so i always appreciate the opportunity to help people new to the world find ethical publications that will treat their work with the care it deserves.

first and foremost: there are going to be pubs out there that are awesome and i don't know about. you may be the one to discover them for yourself! one aid in finding the best mag for your work is the wonderful, writer-created chillsubs. it's a fantastic platform that keeps a huge list of mags and presses and their relevant stats, and lets you create an account and bookmark those you're interested in. everyone i know uses them, and it's very worth it given the sheer volume of mags out there.

i also have some recs of my own, ofc. i'm going to list them below. if they pay (which i prioritize) I'll mark them with a $. some are trans/queer focused and some aren't, but all are pubs i've either edited and/or published with and can confirm their ethics + respect for writers.

manywor(l)ds - my mag! i'm co-founder and eic. break genre _ shapeshift with us. ($)

Sinister Wisdom - old, well-regarded lesbian+ lit mag, now open to everyone who is/loves a dyke. I'm guest-editing an issue on Madness with them, now open for submissions!

fifth wheel press - run by a beloved friend and comrade of mine. i've published here. excellent transparency, care, great for first-timers. ($).

kith books - headed by trans literary icon kat blair. a mag/press/community centered around bodymind non-conformity and noncompliance.

Honey Literary - QTPOC-centered, unabashedly pop-culture + social justice oriented. the vibes are simply immaculate.

Whale Road Review - not queer/trans focused, more oriented toward....'grown up' poetry/prose/pedagogy papers. Katie Manning (eic) is a fucking gem.

Graphic Violence Lit - just had my first experience publishing with them, and their care + consideration for the whole writer is amazing. they publish boundary-pushing work.

beestung - one of the brainchildren of Sarah Clark. nb/gq/2s SFF. I just edited a few guest issues w them and have published with them. amazing work. ($)

A Velvet Giant - genrequeer work. the editors are experienced, enthusiastic, and amazing at promoting writers long after publication. it's a family! ($)

Ethel Zine + Press - handmade with love by Sara Lefsyk (as you can see, trans/nonbinary/2s sarahs dominate indie publishing, as well we should :3). Sara is a sensitive and care-full editor and bookmaker whose every publication is a work of art.

Protean - pro- as in proletariat. awesome left mag with a mix of politics and culture and everything in between. they take reprints! ($)

Mudroom - publish your work along with a picture of your mudroom/shoe rack. very responsive editors who will hype you tf up. ($)

The Institutionalized Review - for psych survivors. the editors concreteness of vision and dedication to their community know no bounds.

Just Femme + Dandy - queer and fashion-focused! led by the inimitable Addie Tsai. They pay *handsomely*. ($)

In addition, there are also some "big" mags I have had excellent experiences publishing with and wanted to shout out. These are harder for a beginner to break into, but worth keeping on your radar + have been fantastic to me as a writer.

Electric Lit

Split Lip Magazine

The Offing

Nat. Brut

Santa Fe Writers' Project

Bodega

New Orleans Review

Augur Magazine

I hope this is helpful to you + others! the literary world is ever-changing and this is just a snapshot. Hopefully you find some that you like!

#ask #anonymous #writing #literary magazines #lit mag #call for submissions

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vesper-tinus · 1 year

Note

Hi! requesting a female reader who is an insomniac and nobody knows until they ask “How many hours of sleep did you get” and she’s like “none” she also just falls asleep in the weirdest places like during a meeting or standing up. Maybe people try to start sneakily feeding her stuff that’ll help her sleep like melatonin. Happy new year!! :))

Hello! Happy New Year to you too, anon! I hope you will enjoy the snippet, and that I managed to write something similar to what you were looking for!

𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐲. Platonic 141 x Female ! Reader

Summary: Plagued by insomnia, you rarely find the time to catch proper sleep. The team has noticed this, and attempt to make you comfortable the best they can. Keywords: Platonic, female reader, Price being a team dad, reader's callsign is "Cricket". Wordcount: 1188

When you wake up, you feel noticeably warmer than before. Cozier and tucked away on a couch. You glance down, bleary-eyed, inspecting the jacket carefully draped over you. It’s a few sizes too big, and you recognise the telltale scent of cigar smoke and cologne. It’s Captain Price’s jacket. His civilian jacket, no less.

How long have you been sleeping?

You fish out the military issued watch from your pocket, eyes squinting as you try to read anything from it. When did you even fall asleep…? Oh, right. You were waiting for Price himself. You had something to discuss with him regarding your latest mission—at least you think so. All you recall was him telling you: “I’ve got something important to discuss with you.” But he was summoned by Laswell, and you thought it best to wait outside the debriefing room for them to finish.

With little else to do, you flip the jacket to wear it properly. Properly being a relative term. It hangs loose on your smaller frame, the sleeves much too long and covering your hands. If you zipped it closed, it could function as some sort of short, unfashionable dress.

You snort to yourself.

The base is quieter than usual, you note, walking the empty corridors and vast rooms. The personnel you do meet, offer swift and curt greetings, but otherwise occupy themselves with their given tasks, and you’re thankful you haven’t met any higher rankings that require you to salute. As your body and mind shake off their drowsiness, your steps become more focused, and sooner than you’d expected, you find the rest of 141 situated in the cafeteria.

You walk towards their table, masking a yawn politely with your hand. The other lazily waving a greeting.

“Morning, guys.”

“It’s 23.30.” Comes the amused reply from Soap who’s busy toying with a tea bag. Dunking it up and down absentmindedly in a cup that most certainly does not belong to him.

You shrug, feigning ignorance as you settle down amongst the team, reaching for the nearest mug to warm your hands on. Kyle’s. He doesn’t seem to mind, even gesturing for you to take your fill. He always makes the best cups.

In your state, you don’t notice the exchanges of glances going around the table, and before you know it, a heavier silence fills the air between you all. You’re about to lighten the mood when the pin drops. Price is the first to speak.

“You haven’t been sleepin’.”

You arch a subtle brow, peeking from beyond your cup. “None of us sleep, Captain.”

“You know what I mean. You’ve been passin’ out sporadically. Hell, I even found you outside the conference room sleepin’ against the wall.” He fixes you with a stare. “Standin’ up.” He pauses, wetting his throat with a sip of his tea. Lemon and ginger, you note. “Didn’t have the heart to wake you, so I moved you to the couch.”

“Thanks for the jacket, by the way,” you chirp, looking cosier than ever and with no intentions of handing it over any time soon. “Very comfy.” Your tactic of changing conversation falls short, and Ghost looks unimpressed by the attempt.

“Right,” Price says abruptly, standing from the table to tower over the lot of you. “I want suggestions on how to help with this—good ones,” he explains as he plucks his boonie hat from the table. He looks to you, worry evident in his expression, but swiftly masked with the professionalism you have come to expect from your captain. “You know this is serious, Cricket.”

You walked into an intervention, is what you did. You tiredly rub your face. “I know, I know,” you mutter. “But what am I supposed to do? Insomnia doesn’t exactly—” You stop talking when you feel a large palm on your shoulder, and the sudden, but welcome, contact makes you emotional.

You run on fumes, because that’s what you do best. You run, and run, until exhaustion takes a hold of you. There is no gentle caress of falling asleep. You fall hard and heavy, and it’s a frustrating feeling. But worst of all, it makes you feel alone.

“You’ll be alright, Cricket,” Soap encourages, “you got us, right?”

And so it begins. Over the next couple of days, you and the team try all sorts of remedies, personal and professional.

Johnny offers to share his bed. “Mi casa es su casa.” Human contact can be a powerful thing. Perhaps the sensation of a heartbeat would sync yours to relax? His chest is wide, and makes for an excellent pillow you find. He talks, because that’s what he does best. He tells you of his childhood, and his excellence at being a goalkeeper. His cousin who inspired him to join the British Army, and all the times he got caught being underrage trying out for SAS. He adds flair and theatrics to whatever tale he spins, and it makes you laugh yourself to exhaustion.

Kyle suggests a podcast with rain noise. He shows you the playlists he has saved, and you giggle amongst yourselves as you peruse them late at night. He has playlists for everything, you notice. When he’s tired, or feeling lonely. When he needs to relax, or when he needs to sleep. So you give it a try, and you count the stars behind your eyes as you listen to ‘A Romantic & Rainy Night Through London’s Empty Streets.’ You asked him why he enjoys the sound of rain so much, and he told you that he finds the consistency soothing. The lives you live are controlled by instability, by sudden orders and quick decisions... but this? This he can control.

Price offers you his office. He lets you rest on the couch while he occupies himself with paperwork. Sometimes in hand, sometimes on the computer. Pen on paper, or mechanical keyboard, it makes you drowsy all the same. He likes to read his reports aloud, mumbling the sentences to himself as he reviews them. You’re not sure he knows how magnetic his voice is. He often looks over at you, checking in, and offers you a tired smile. He goes over the possibilities of medication to help you sleep, but it will be a rare comfort since you can’t use it most nights when you’re charged with missions. The pleasant hoarseness of his voice makes it difficult to pay attention.

And Simon? Simon listens, and shares little. He, too, was plagued by insomnia in his youth. Fears and nightmares, but he overcame it and now has dreamless nights. You can’t decide if you find it sad. He doesn’t. He told you as much, but you think he deserves to dream of better things. He lends you his hoodies. Black and dull and worn, but his. The hoods are wide and shadow much of your face, shielding your eyes from others and the lights. He often dismisses you, telling you to take a nap. You have responsibilities, you argue, but he dismisses that too, and tells you to let him deal with it. And he does.

And for the first time in a long, long while, you ease into a dreamless sleep.

No falling, hard edges, or buzzing thoughts.

Just pure, blissful sleep.

2K notes · View notes

delicate-moon-princess · 10 months

Note

that last ask has me thinking about soft daddy Henry who cares so much about your mental health. I have adhd (not bad but it’s there) and I really struggle with depression and anxiety in the wrong environment. I can just see daddy!Henry mode activated if you went to a party you didn’t know would be so loud and chaotic. He has you lean against a corner and breathe in sync with him, uses his charm to find a perfect excuse to leave. You’re all “I’ll be okay, we don’t have to go,” and he just gives you that daddy look like he can’t believe you would downplay your needs like that, and he low (high) key wants to spank you for it. And then he cuddles you all night long. But then if you get depressed (maybe you’re PMSing, maybe someone said something that triggered a bad thought cycle), he runs you a bubble bath and pours you a glass of wine and rubs your shoulders and snuggles you through your favorite Disney movie. And goodness help them, if someone did say something negative to you, but he would spend the night making you fall apart on his fingers and tongue until you forgot all about that silly person 🤭

(Henry is a big protective bear in this one, so a gif of Walter had to be used obviously.)

Overwhelmed

A party gets out of hand when some harsh words are thrown around. Henry is there to pick up the pieces, but it’s not always so easy healing your broken mind. (Based on this original ask)

Warning: 18+ smutty content, RPF, minor alcohol consumption, bullying, minor violence, bad thoughts and self image, mental health issues, panic attacks, comfort, daddy kink (not exactly dd/lg, but could have undertones), oral (f receiving), Henry being a gentleman and expecting nothing in return 🤭, multiple orgasms

5.1k words

Any typos are my own

******

This was supposed to be a small get together. That’s what you were told. A plan for a few friends to gather for a couple drinks at home. Maybe you would play some board games.

But a few people quickly turned into loads. And a couple drinks was soon an incessant river of alcohol. Now you found yourself stuck in the middle of a jumping house party.

At least thirty sweaty bodies were packed into the mediocre sized home. And new faces seemed to be showing up every minute. And the only person you knew in this place, Henry, had left to go get you some water when he saw you start to panic.

This definitely wasn’t your kind of crowd.

Miraculously, he had found a quiet corner for you to wait in. So that is where you waited for him, as patiently as you could. You did your best to remain calm as the loud music thudded in the other room. The vibrations rattled your throbbing head. You leaned against the wall in the empty hallway, sighing.

Why did social gatherings like this overwhelm you? It always seemed like a good idea in theory. A place to meet with people, an opportunity to make new friends. But your imbalanced brain had a way of ruining things. You could never enjoy yourself. And you were sure you weren’t a joy to be around when you got overstimulated like this.

Wait for Henry, you told yourself. Don’t get too worked up. He will be back soon.

You heard footsteps approaching, so you lifted your head with a weak smile. You were expecting him to return, and all would be well again. Only it wasn’t him. Instead it was the host of the party, the one who told you it was a small gathering.

Jake. A friend of Henry’s. One that always gave you bad vibes. You bit your tongue with your bad feelings about him. If your man liked him, so should you. You were being paranoid. As always.

“Hi, Jake.” You wiped the anxious sweat from your brow, offering him a polite smile. “Quite the party.”

“What are you doing here? I thought you left already.” His voice seemed to be laced with distaste, but you figured you were imagining it.

“I’m waiting for Henry. He left to get us some water.” You explained, wiping your damp palms on your thighs.

“Your little errand boy, right?”

“H-Huh?” You uttered in confusion. Errand boy?

“You’ve got him wrapped around your finger, don’t you? You say jump and he says how high.” He spat, crossing his arms

“Jake, I’m not-” Perhaps you were about to stick up for yourself, but he cut you off again so the words died in your throat.

“He can’t seem to go anywhere without you tagging along. Asking him for a guys night is like pulling teeth. Always spending time with the old ball and chain. You’re nagging him 24/7, aren’t you?” He scoffed.

“No, I…” You trailed off, thinking long and hard. Did you nag him?

Jake gave you hardly any time to think before spurting out more insults.

“Y’know I never could see what he saw in you. No one can. The man can get anyone. Everyone knows that. So why does he go and pick a ugly slag like you?” He jabbed, and you felt your eyes prick.

Your chest tightened. That was a question you asked yourself everyday. Everytime you woke up next to Henry. When he greeted you with a kiss and a smile. A beautiful way to start the day. But deep down it made you feel vulnerable.

What did you do to deserve him? Nothing. Nothing at all. You were nobody. A nobody with a broken mind.

“Why don’t you leave so the man can actually have some fun for once?” He was right.

You blinked and didn’t say anything. You took his advice though, wobbling away as your heart began to beat quicker. You had to get out of here. The front door never seemed so far away.

You could already feel yourself spiraling as you rounded the corner to the living room. It was packed and loud. More people shuffled into your sight range. With each new face, it felt harder to breathe. You were suffocated.

You inhaled shakily, stumbling a little. You collided with a hard body, and as you were about to whip around a pair of hands cupped your shoulders. You tried to turn and apologize, but the person spoke.

“Darling? Are you alright?” Henry. You looked at him, taking in his features. He was here to protect you. But why weren’t you able to calm down?

His lips were moving, though you couldn’t hear him. Everything was muffled. The people, the music, his voice. It all sounded far away. Like you were underwater.

Your breathing was labored, your brain dissociating when the panic almost overtook you. The only way you were going to survive this was by detaching your mind from your body.

You felt yourself being moved. His solid presence was behind you, holding you by your shoulders. Your attention was focused on the floor. Pairs of shuffling shoes invaded your vision as he guided you through the crowd.

The fresh air entered your lungs when he got you outside. Cool and refreshing, unlike the stuffy hot air inside the house. Your hands shook as you reached up to hold your face, hiccuping when you were forced back to reality.

“Hey, hey. It’s okay, I’m here. You’re safe, I promise.” His hand gently laid on your back, not crowding you.

“Breathe, baby. Breathe in against my hand here.” He placed his other palm on your stomach, a gentle reminder to breathe in through your diaphragm.

You closed your eyes, inhaling as you concentrated on not panicking. Your breathing was shaky but it did wonders to calm you. His soft voice rang in your ears, praising you.

“There she is, good girl. I knew you could do it, I knew you could work yourself down.” He murmured.

He stroked your moist cheek, pushing your hair away from your sweaty forehead. You leaned into his touch, your rapid heart slowing.

“Darling, what happened in there?” His face showed his worry.

“I… I got a little overwhelmed. That’s all.” You murmured while glancing down at the ground. He didn’t need to know about your encounter with Jake.

He rubbed the base of your neck sympathetically. He could tell there was more. Something was bothering you.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I didn’t realize it would be so crowded.” He kissed your temple as he apologized.

“It’s alright. Neither of us could have known Jake would invite everyone he knew.” You gave him a weak smile, shaking your head.

You thought you kept your tone even while speaking about that wretched man. Henry caught it. He didn’t let his surprise be known. He was confused by your sudden annoyance towards Jake, who you tolerated before.

“Let’s go home, princess. I think we’ve had enough fun for one night.” He took your hand, kissing your knuckles while giving you a dazzling smile.

You frowned, disappointed in yourself for not being able to handle a simple house party. He had seemed really excited about this get together. Even as more people showed up, he kept his smile and light heartedness. That was until your mood had dropped.

Jake was right. Henry couldn’t have fun with you around. You ruin everything. Quickly, you had to fix this.

“No, no- I’m okay. I-I only needed a breather.” You shook your head frantically, swallowing. You grimaced when you realized how dry your throat was.

His expression dropped slightly, resembling a scold. He held the water out to you after opening it, silently urging you to drink. You took the bottle sheepishly, sipping from it slowly.

“We’re not staying here anymore. We need to go home and decompress. Both of us.” He sighed when you pouted, softening his features as he rubbed your shoulders. He leaned in, kissing between your brows as you furrowed them.

“I really need to snuggle my favorite girl right now, okay? We can have a nice bubble bath. I’ll wash you up then maybe we can watch a movie after I get you into some warm pajamas.” He leveled with you, cupping your cheek.

“Okay...” You smiled weakly. Cuddling with him sounded better than anything.

“Come on, let’s get out of here.” He started to turn towards the car.

“Hey, you two!” A voice called out from behind you, a familiar one that made you both freeze. For different reasons.

Henry spun around first, a grin on his face as he greeted his friend. They embraced in a hug as you turned slowly, trying to keep a polite smile. You hoped Jake would just let you two go without any snide comment.

The man in question spared you a glance as Henry patted his shoulder.

“Hey, man. This has been quite the party. Y/N and I had a great time.”

“Really? You’re leaving so soon.” Jake questioned, his brow raising in suspicion.

“Oh, I’ve got an early meeting in the morning. My manager contacted me with some stuff about emergency re-shoots. You know how it goes, man.” He quickly came up with a solid excuse, smooth as ever.

“Yeah, I know how it goes. It’s whatever the lady says right, pal?” Jake took a hearty swig of his beer, staring your man in the eye as his face dropped. You shifted on your feet, looking down in shame.

“Sorry?”

“Tell me, does she carry your balls around in her purse? Because you seem to have lost your pair.” He bit out viciously, the liquid courage burning in his chest.

“What did you just say?” Henry reared up, taking one long stride to get right in the other man’s face.

His brows were pinched angrily. Jake’s eyes widened in the slightest, but the alcohol in his system was making him braver. He didn’t back down.

“You heard me. Ever since she’s been tagging along, you’ve turned into an utter bore. Must be some good pussy, because it seems to have sucked the life out of you.” He spit.

The anger that flashed on your boyfriend’s face was bone-chilling. In the blink of an eye, he had the smaller man’s collar clenched in his fists. Yanking him upwards, Henry shook him while growling.

“Do you think the fact that you’re hammered is going to keep me from punching your teeth in? I’m going to make you regret disrespecting her.” He growled dangerously.

You finally came to your senses when you saw him pull his fist backwards. Jake flinched. Thankfully you were able to stop your boyfriend before his knuckles were to connect with the drunk’s jaw.

“Don’t.” You gasped softly, catching his gaze while holding his arm in both of your hands. His eye twitched as his fist clenched tighter. You felt the tendons in his forearm jerk. You squeezed reassuringly.

You shook your head silently, a wordless plea for him to not escalate this. Punching him would only make things worse. Jake wasn’t worth it.

The anger dissipated from his face as he gazed at you. He lowered his fist, while his other hand on Jake’s collar loosened. Henry was about to let him go completely, until Jake scoffed under his breath.

“Pfft. Pussy-whipped.”

The actor’s face twisted once more. You sighed, cursing the hammered bastard mentally. He wasn’t making this any easier. You could tell Henry was still itching to beat him mercilessly. Said man grunted, your hand falling from his arm as he gripped Jake’s collar once more.

The large man lifted the smaller one off the ground. At least three feet upwards before tossing him on the grass in the front yard. You grimaced as he fell on his back in a heavy heap. Luckily Henry chose to drop him in the grass, as opposed to the pavement.

You could see Jake’s ego wounded immediately, and you would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so serious. You crossed your arms, holding in a sigh as Henry bent down to talk to him.

“Don’t bother trying to apologize tomorrow when you sober up. Or else I’ll be forced to come back here and finish what I started.” He stood up, glaring at him for one last moment before he turned to you.

“Let’s go.” He whispered, walking behind you as he led you to the car. He kept you from even sparing at glance at Jake.

You were silent as he got you in the car, looking down at your lap as he got in the driver's seat. He looked at you, you could feel his stare burning into you. Shame kept you from looking at him.

“Darling… Did Jake say something to you earlier?” He finally broke the silence.

You opened your mouth, before closing it with a nod. Tears welled up as you recalled his hurtful words. From earlier in the night, and from now.

“What did he say to you?” He prodded.

You finally looked at him, and his jaw ticked when he saw your puffy eyes. Right then, he felt like going back and beating that idiot to a pulp for making his baby girl cry. Your sniffles broke his heart.

“I-I don’t… I don’t want to talk about it.” You hiccuped, shaking your head.

“Is that what got you so upset?” His voice was soft, almost broken with guilt. He should have never left you alone.

You shrugged, Jake’s badgering surely didn’t help your already overstimulated mind. Henry bit his lip as he was forced to push away his anger to comfort you. He stroked your hair, rubbing your shoulder.

“Baby..” He trailed off, being interrupted by you.

“I just want to go home. And take that bubble bath you promised.” You begged, causing him to sigh and let it go for now. He gave you a smile.

“Of course, sweetheart. Let's go home.” He kissed your cheek before pulling away, turning the car on and driving.

Your eyelids were heavy, your head resting on your hand. You let them close for the rest of the car ride home. Your silence was making him want to squirm, but he did his best to not show his displeasure. It killed him to see you so upset.

When he parked he was sure you had fallen asleep, but you surprised him by lifting your head. He turned the car off, reaching to cup your cheek.

“Are you okay, my baby girl?” He searched your face for any more signs of tears. He saw only the dried streaks from earlier.

You gave him a weak smile, and it did little to mend his broken heart. He matched your smile though, stroking your hair away from your face as you leaned into his hand.

“I’m okay. I promise.” Your voice was softer, smaller.

He leaned forward to kiss you, and you kissed back half heartedly. Henry pulled away, knowing you were still trying to put on a brave face for him.

His brave girl. You didn’t always have to be strong. That’s what he was here for. He wasn’t going to push you. You would talk to him eventually. You always did.

“Let’s get inside, pumpkin.” He kissed your knuckles before getting out of the car. Of course he opened your door and helped you out.

You held his hand as he led you inside. He knelt in front of you once he closed the door, working on taking your heels off for you.

“You look so beautiful tonight… I still can’t believe you gave a man like me even a chance.” He murmured the last part to himself, rubbing your ankles when your shoes were gone.

You couldn’t quell the quiver of your lip. You’re the one who didn’t deserve him. Not in the slightest. Jake was right. What does a man like him see in a woman like you?

You masked with a smile, stroking his hair as he kissed your clothed hips. He watched you carefully, still on his knees in front of you.

“What do I have to do for you to see how perfect you are?” He whispered as he nuzzled your stomach, squeezing you close.

You hiccuped quietly. Your fingers weaved into his hair, feeling his silky curls between your digits. The sensation calmed you a little.

Soon, his warmth pulled away and when you opened your eyes again, he was standing. He cupped your cheek, his thumb rubbing your flesh.

“I promised you a bubble bath. Come on, sweetheart.” He bent down to kiss your nose. You smiled lightly.

You both went into the master bathroom, where you sat on the closed toilet lid. He turned to mess with the knobs on the large tub. The water filled the basin, then he added bubbles.

You took a deep breath, the soft smell of vanilla and brown sugar filled your nostrils. The scent caused you to relax, the sound of the water lulling you into a calm state.

Henry stood up, helping you stand and start to undress. His fingers unzipped your dress, letting it fall off your body and pool at your feet on the tile floor. You shivered when his digits trailed over your form. They hooked on your panties and pulled them down your legs.

He helped you into the tub, and you let out a sigh as you sunk into the warm, scented water. The bubbles covered your chest, and you let yourself rest for a second. He stroked your hair, an added comfort to the warm bath.

“How does that feel, darling?” He spoke softly, his hands disappearing. You heard liquid being poured into a glass.

The sneaky devil had snagged a bottle of your favorite wine before coming up here. He was pouring it into the stemmed glass. Somehow you hadn’t noticed he grabbed it. He glanced back at you with a smirk. How did he know exactly what you needed?

“It feels perfect.” You whispered, in awe of this man. He handed you the wine, and you took a smooth sip. You hummed.

Well, it was almost perfect. There was one thing missing.

“Come in with me?” You blinked up at him, your hand wrapped around his wrist when he went to sit beside the tub.

He melted, nodding his head instantly. Anything you wanted, he would not hesitate to give to you. And anything he couldn’t do, it killed him that he wasn’t able to fulfill your every need. Thankfully, this was a simple request. He began to undress as you set the glass aside.

You watched him unashamed. This beautiful man was yours. All yours. You felt your heart begin to swell. As it always did when you thought about the fact that you were his and he was yours.

How did something like that happen to someone like you? It was unbelievable.

You scooted forward as he lowered himself in. He dragged you back into his chest after he was seated, making you relax in his embrace. He began to wash you, his breath ghosting over your shoulder as he kissed it.

“It kills me seeing you so upset.” Henry finally spoke after a lull of comfortable silence.

You pouted, feeling guilty about worrying him. Before you could open your mouth to apologize, he cut you off.

“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry.” He turned your head, looking at you seriously. “None of this is your fault.”

You closed your mouth, swallowing your apology as he stroked your cheek. He sighed to himself as he traced your lower lip with his thumb.

“It took every ounce of my self control not to beat him to a bloody pulp for disrespecting you.” His voice was flat.

The protective tone he held made your heart skip a beat, and a tingle to grow between your legs. A smile ghosted your lips, your hand coming up to cup his face.

“I know. I’m starting to think I should have let you.” You cracked a smile. A real one.

“I would have. All you have to do is ask.” He turned to kiss your palm. You laid your head on his shoulder, his arms around you making you feel safe.

“I know you would.”

Your words had the whisper of sadness. He was perfect. Too perfect for you. There must be a catch. Henry kissed the top of your head, squeezing you gently.

“Do you want to talk about what he said to you?” He murmured, dragging the washcloth down your arms.

You sighed, his touch easing you enough to talk about it. You tell him your encounter with Jake, from the very beginning. Tears burned in your eyes as you retold the story, but they didn’t fall as you repeated his hateful words.

“He said you were too good for me. And no one understands what you see in me.” You looked at him, blinking away your tears. You don’t tell him the harsher words Jake uttered to you. No reason for him to get angry again.

“And you believed him.” It wasn’t a question. He could tell by your expression that the drunk’s words resonated deep within you.

You shrugged. He kissed the back of your neck, breathing in your scent. He sighed, his nose pressed against your skin.

“I wish I had the words to change your mind, my love. I don’t like the way you view yourself. While you think I’m too good for you, I believe in the opposite. It is you who is too good for me.

Every morning when I wake up next to you, I always ask myself one thing. ‘What did a fool like me do to deserve such an amazing, beautiful woman?’. I still don’t have an answer.”

He kissed the side of your face, his lips next to your ear. You shivered, hanging onto every word as his hands rubbed your sides.

“But I try not to dwell on it. Because every moment I spend with you is a gift. And I much rather enjoy it and then spend our time together stressing.”

You nuzzled him as he squeezed you. You sniffled, his words calming your woeful heart. You pressed your lips to his cheek, whispering against his skin.

“Thank you, Henry. You always know how to fix things.”

“Anything for my precious girl. Anymore wine, sweetheart?” He offered you the almost empty glass. You shook your head, gesturing for him to finish it.

He winked at you and tossed it back. You watched as his tongue came out to lick the rest off his lips. Your mouth watered. His taste was intoxicating by itself, mixed with the sweet wine it had to be heavenly.

You decided not to wonder any longer, pressing your lips to his. He hummed, deepening the kiss as he stroked your tongue with his. You gasped into his mouth when you felt his half hard cock twitch against your spine.

He grunted, smirking as he nipped at your lower lip. He squeezed your hips, pulling away. His nose brushed against yours.

“Let’s get out and dry off, shall we? Get into some warm pajamas and then you can pick a movie to watch.”

You grinned as you started to brainstorm about which movie you were going to pick. You were off in your own world as he helped you out of the tub. He quickly dried himself. Then gently patted your body dry with a fresh towel.

You hummed a soft tune, a sign to Henry that you were starting to feel like yourself again. The material of the soft towel was making you relax. Your skin still smelled of vanilla, as did his.

He kissed the top of your head after he was done, both of you still nude until he wrapped the towel around you. You kept stealing glances at his naked form. He smirked to himself.

“Go wait for me on the bed. I’ll pick out something comfortable for you to wear.” He pecked your lips, patting your side to urge you towards the bedroom.

You bit your lip and nodded, leaving him in the bathroom. You made sure you weren’t dripping any water before sitting on the edge of the bed. You grabbed the remote, browsing for something to watch.

Henry entered, fully clothed now as he held a pair of clothes for you in one hand. In the other, a bottle of lotion.

“I’ll get you dressed, but first-lotion.” He knew your routine.

You smiled at him, watching him massage the lotion into your shoulders and arms. He lowered the towel to get your back as he sat behind you. Your eyes were closed, listening to his breathing as he lathered you up.

His large hands spread over your chest. He weighed your breasts in his palms as his thumbs lightly grazed your nipples. You moaned softly, leaning into him. His lips touched your ear, kissing his way down your neck and shoulder.

“Lay back sweet girl.”

You did so, gazing up at him as he stood at the end of the bed. He gathered some more lotion, rubbing into your feet. You groaned in delight when he massaged your aching soles. The sensation made you melt.

You felt his lips on the sensitive skin on your foot, gently kissing your heel, and each of your toes. He gave the other foot the same attention. His fingers creeped up your legs till he was squeezing your thighs.

Your legs spread instinctively, presenting your core to him. His eyes became half lidded as a pleased growl tumbled from his lips.

“So beautiful. Every inch of you, darling. There’s not a part of you I don’t love.” He tugged you up on the bed, lowering himself down on his stomach between your legs.

Your breath shook when you felt his mouth against the inside of your thighs. He peppered kisses along your skin as he lifted his hands. You gasped as his fingers bumped your clit.

“Please, Daddy.” You needed more, squirming in front of him as he teased you.

“Shh, baby girl. Daddys got you. You don’t have to beg. I’m gonna taste this perfect cunt either way.” His breath hit your center as he leaned closer, covering your slit with his mouth as soon as he ended his sentence.

His tongue was hot as it weaved between your lips, seeking out the bundle of nerves hiding. His wet appendage swirled the bead once, twice, before he puckered his lips around it. Henry suckled gently, his large hands holding your thighs apart.

You arched your back and moaned, the stimulation making your gut tighten. You reached down to hold onto his hair, tugging lightly when he gave your clit another suck. You couldn’t help it

He didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, moaning against your flower as you held onto his curls. He gazed up at you, admiring the look of pleasure on your face. His tongue explored further down, dipping into your leaking hole

You bucked against his mouth, panting as your heart started to thud quickly. Incoherent groans left your mouth as you wiggled on the bed. He held you in place, snarling as he increased the pace of his tongue and lips. You tensed.

He pulled the orgasm from you with skill, your body rolling. Moans of wanton pleasure escaped you, falling apart from his lips. Your skin didn’t stop tingling until he finally pulled away.

You panted and opened your eyes when his mouth disappeared. His lips and chin were shiny, his smirk large as you got bashful at the sight of him.

“Mmm, you taste delicious. As always. Wish I could eat you all day.” He growled, one of his hands going back to your pussy. Your jaw dropped open as he traced your puffy slit.

You inhaled as he sunk a finger into you, your hole closed around it eagerly as you clenched down. He moaned under his breath, his gaze attached to the way your body swallowed his digit inside.

“So tight, baby girl. It feels so nice to just relax and let Daddy make you feel good, doesn’t it? I love seeing you squirm. I want you to cum again. Can you do that for Daddy, beautiful?”

You nodded quickly. He added a second finger, almost like he knew you needed it. You concentrated on the feeling of his fingertips rubbing against your convulsing walls. He found your special spot with no problem, growling when you let out a cry.

“There you go, good girl.” He grunted, shaking his fingers inside you. You squealed, and Henry moaned at the sound. “Cum for me, princess. Cum for daddy.”

He toyed with your g-spot, his lips finding your nub again. The sensations all blended together, and soon you lost yourself in another orgasm. You sobbed, gripping his head between your thighs and you arched off the bed.

He gulped down all that you gave, rutting his fingers into you to pull you through the tendrils of euphoria. Your body relaxed as your orgasm subsided. He finally pulled away with one last lingering lick of your cunt.

“Are you still with me, gorgeous?” He chuckled when you hummed and nodded lazily. “Did you decide on a movie to watch?”

You pouted silently as you glanced down at his groin. He was obviously aroused, yet wasn’t expecting you to return the favor. You wanted to take care of him. Your hand rested on his thigh. He chuckled, lifting your hand to kiss it.

“That’s nothing for you to worry about right now, darling. You need to rest. Now, have you decided on a movie?” He questioned you again.

“Lilo and Stitch.” You murmured as he stood up, your gaze following him.

“Lilo and Stitch it is then.” He grinned leaning over you to peck your lips. You could taste a hint of your own essence on his tongue.

Henry dressed you in the warm pajamas he picked out of you beforehand. You sighed in content, smiling up at him as he switched on the movie. He smiled back at you, scooting onto the bed and pulling you close. You snuggled him, your face in his chest.

“I love you, Darling. Don’t ever forget that. No matter how bad your thoughts might get, I want you to remember how much I love you. You mean everything to me.” His voice vibrated in his chest, and you lifted your head to fixate on him.

“I love you, Henry. You’re my everything. I don’t think I could live without you.” You whispered, your eyes locked.

“Good thing you won’t have to. You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid.” He smiled, kissing you with a pleasant hum. You giggled.

“Now let’s watch ‘Lilo and Stitch’. Who’s the little blue guy again?”

******

A/N: Slowly chipping away at my inbox. Thank you for your patience as I slowly complete your requests. I apologize to anyone who has been waiting for months. Some things in my personal life have affected my mental health negatively, and I haven't been writing as much. Recently I've been easing my way back into writing, and I want to start being more active on here. I love you all, I feel like I don't tell you that enough. I’m sorry when I go MIA 😭❤️

Taglist: @sunshine-with-daisy @leigh70 @islacharlotte @lysarria @kebabgirl67 @pandaxnienke @identity2212 @rach2602

#henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x you #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill smut #RPF #henry cavill fandom #anon request #masterlist #overwhelmed

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1americanconservative · 7 months

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@ScottFishman

Tucker is Outing Obama as Gay. But Everyone is Missing the Big Story. I’m Obama’s College Classmate. I’ve Been Trying to Warn America for 15 years! By Wayne Allyn Root I’m Barak Obama’s college classmate at Columbia University, Class of ’83. I’m also the author of the #1 bestselling hardcover book in America in 2012, “The Ultimate Obama Survival Guide.” I’ve always had Obama’s number. I understand what makes him tick. I understand his goals. First let’s get the “gay issue” out of the way. I’ve reported on both my radio and TV shows for 15 years that my wealthy, connected friends in Chicago have always said, “Obama frequented gay bath houses and gay clubs. Everyone in the know, knows Obama is gay.” Now that we’ve heard from Obama’s biographer that Obama wrote about his daily gay fantasies, I think it’s pretty clear my Chicago pals were right. Tucker Carlson is onto something! But gay is not the issue. The issue here is fraud. If Obama is in fact gay, then he was lying to the American people from day one. He portrayed himself as a happily married family man with a wife and two beautiful young daughters. That’s called fraud.

If America had known the truth in 2008, does anyone honestly think Obama would have been elected president? But all of this is small potatoes. This is not the big story. Why does any of this matter now? Because Joe Biden is a brain-dead puppet. This is the third term of Obama. The proof is we are all reliving the nightmare Obama economy. Great for Wall Street and billion-dollar multi-national corporations. But a disaster for the American middle class and Main Street. Second, Biden is fading fast – and everyone can see it. At the same time Biden’s cognitive health is in freefall, all of his corruption from the past is pouring out of the closet. Biden is finished. He is toast. He will never make it to 2024. Sometime this fall Biden will have a very public “episode” and be hospitalized. Soon thereafter he (or Jill) will announce he is stepping down for “health reasons.” Who will replace him? Either Michelle Obama or Gavin Newsom. But whoever it is, Obama will be calling the shots from his nearby Washington DC mansion. That’s why this story matters. I’ve had Obama pegged from the first day. Obama is the ultimate “Manchurian Candidate.” Gay is unimportant. What matters is he was groomed to be president by the Deep State and communist, fascist, globalist enemies of the United States. What matters is Obama is a radical Marxist tyrant carrying out the destruction of America.

Obama was tame in his first two terms. He was “boiling the frog slowly.” But Trump ruined his plan. Now Obama is trying to destroy this country as fast as he can before Trump has a second chance to undo the damage. And at the same time, Obama is coordinating the attacks on Trump to either imprison him, kill him, or disqualify him. My guest on my show, “America’s Top Ten Countdown” on Real America’s Voice TV last week was former Illinois Governor Rod “Blago” Blagojevich. Blago’s Governor’s mansion was raided by an early morning FBI Swat team. Sound familiar? I pointed out to “Blago” that Obama’s fingerprints were all over his frame job… and FBI SWAT raid… and long prison sentence. Obama set him up. Obama took away his freedom. I asked him to comment. Blago reported, “Obama set up the meeting that led to my arrest.” Do you get it now? It’s the exact same M.O. as what’s happening to President Trump. The same FBI raids, persecution, frame job. The same weaponization of government to destroy Obama’s political adversaries. I’ve always said the key to understanding Obama was his time at Columbia University.

First, there is the “Ghost of Columbia” mystery. I was a Pre Law, Political Science major. So was Obama. He had to be in all the same classes as me. But he was never in one class. I never met Obama, never saw him, never heard of him, never met anyone at Columbia who has. Obama got in, so why didn’t anyone ever see him? My educated guess is Obama was in the Soviet Union studying communism. Columbia had a “sister school” in Moscow. That would be the only real answer as to why Obama was rarely if ever seen at Columbia. He was being groomed way back then by the enemies of America. Secondly, at Columbia we learned a plan to destroy America called “Cloward Piven.” I’ll bet Obama spent two years in the Soviet Union at our “sister school” becoming the world’s expert. Look around. Everything happening in America today is Cloward Piven… The open borders bringing millions of foreigners into our country, changing our demographics forever. The explosion of welfare and bailouts. The Green New Deal. The destruction of our military. The end of the dollar as world reserve currency. The plans for pandemic lockdowns, climate change lockdowns and Central Bank Digital Currency.

The censorship, banning of dissent, and weaponization of government against conservatives and Christians. Defund the police. The vicious criminals let out without bail. Critical Race Theory and Transgender brainwashing. Persecution of PTA parents. Conservatives and Christians classified as “domestic terrorists.” The arrest of political opponents. 87,000 new IRS agents. It’s all about Cloward Piven and communist-level control. Sound familiar? It’s what Obama the “Manchurian Candidate” learned in the Soviet Union from the best. This man was groomed from day one by the communist and globalist enemies of America. He was sent to destroy us. Now he’s working behind the scenes to finish the job. He is the man who ordered the spying on Trump. The framing of Trump. Now he’s the man directing the nonstop government attacks against Trump. Just as he did to Blago. So, Obama being gay is the least of it. America is being destroyed. Obama is at the root of every evil thing happening.

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eddies-house · 8 months

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Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Four - Boiling Point

W/C: 7.4K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Warnings: Mentions of vomiting, slight SA (groping), drinking (if I missed anything please let me know)

A messy night and several unfortunate events.

A/N: This one got a little long but it was so fun to write, chaos is really fun to coordinate but my poor babies are taking the brunt of it all woops

Masterlist

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Working nights had flipped your entire sleeping schedule upside down. Two weeks had passed since that first evening where you worked an entire shit show and you still weren’t accustomed to resting in the afternoon in preparation for the night shift. It didn’t seem like such a big deal seeing as the bar thrived around three nights a week and remained quiet to steady the rest of the time but with a staff of only four, the workload piles up. Tossing and turning on the couch, you groan, longing for a peaceful sleep that would energize you. The bed wasn’t doing you any justice which is why the couch sounded that much more appealing but as it turns out they both had the same effect.

Keeping you awake.

Now, there wasn’t anything remotely wrong with either one however, you just couldn’t seem to get comfortable enough to find that blissful sleep you were yearning for.

You were restless.

What didn’t help was the incessant shredding of an electric guitar next door. The high pitch clawed at your ears and echoed throughout the canyon your house was settled in. You could either suck it up and muffle the sound as best as you could with a pillow, or you could confront your noisy neighbor and politely let him know you were trying to sleep in order to fuel yourself to run his bar. Confrontation was not your specialty and you would avoid it by any means necessary. But it couldn’t hurt to just ask him to stop. The worst he could do is laugh in your face and slam the door.

And that would be enough to turn your blood hot, not in rage, but in shame and embarrassment. Maybe it was best to tuck your sweaty and fidgety body back into the couch for long enough that the imprints of the rough fabric would show up as indentations on your skin. Hopefully the shrieking of the guitar would eventually fade away and become background noise in your dreams.

It never did stop.

–

“Jett, could you please toss me that rag? Major spill at table four.”

It was 6:00 PM, Friday night. Just about every table and every stool was occupied, a competitive game of pool provoking many men to yell at the top of their lungs, causing your ear drums even more grief than the endless guitar solos you had to endure earlier. On top of it all, drunk people on a Friday night were not easy to clean up after, several spills inevitably happening on your watch, with more than enough evidence to back your claim up.

“I’ll get it, you go on your break.” Jett advises.

The Bourbon was nearly at capacity, a majority of the town’s regulars seated along the bar and even more of its residents engaging in their pre-weekend activities. The people of Knife’s Edge were rambunctious or at least, that’s the only side of them you’d seen so far. Most likely because they were all getting hammered. Maybe you should get out more? Then you could see their personalities sober and not glazed over with the confidence of alcohol.

“You sure?” You ask sincerely.

Jett didn’t even have a second to glance up at you from the beers he was collecting, a whole round of them for a table of five men roaring with laughter.

“Yeah, if you don’t take it now it’s only going to get busier and you never will.” He yells over the booming music.

“Okay.”

You’re reluctant to leave him alone but you trust his judgment, seeing as he has no issue making that call. And customers seemed to love him, joking back and forth until he practically dragged himself back behind the bar. They hadn’t seemed to take that kind of liking toward you quite yet and the only compliments you received were gross comments from older men that slurred their words, you respectfully dismissing yourself to tend to other customers just to escape.

Quickly, you make your way toward the back through the narrow hallway that leads out to the alley. The bar had become stuffy, too many humans populating the small space, prompting a much needed break for a breath of fresh air. Almost reaching the door, a haven that would relieve your sweat coated skin with a crisp breeze, you collide into something firm, a deep grunt coming from the source.

“Watch it, Bambi.” Eddie barks, glaring down at you. He holds an unopened bottle of tequila, knuckles white as he tightens his grasp.

“I-I’m sorry.” You stutter, taken back by his stern voice. It was for the most part, always stern but this time it was especially disapproving.

“Where are you going?” He asks, brows furrowed.

“My break. Jett just–”

“Your break? Now? I need all hands on deck right now, take your break in like thirty when it calms down.”

A vein in his neck looks as if it’s about to pop, stress evident in his entire demeanor. Even his lips are bitten and red from what seemed to be constant tugging from his teeth. Maybe he needed a toothpick to chew on instead? Maybe that’s why he chewed on them in the first place?

“Well I–Jett just sent me on break.” You reason.

“Jett?”

“Yeah.”

He breathes in deep, head tilting toward the ceiling as he exhales through his mouth, clearly trying to maintain his calmness. Although it always seemed like he was going to blow up and cause a scene when he got like this, he never did.

“Jesus Christ, kid’s gonna give me an aneurysm.”

Walking down the hall toward the commotion of the bar, he shakes his head, curls bouncing and that famous frizz framing his head like a halo. You keep your movements halted, feet glued to the floor in confusion as to whether you’re meant to follow him or actually go on your break.

“So do I–do you want me to take my break or–”

“Just go.” He calls back, this time a calmer tone detected in his voice.

If you were meant to do the opposite in some sort of reverse psychology moment, you didn’t. The cool air called to you and you were going to use all ten minutes to bathe in it, and reset your nervous system. Eddie could sweat in your place for the time being.

Things had been easier since that first shift; the cook, Randy, had returned and said that he left in the heat of the moment, explaining the following day that he lost his cool and was so certain he was going to quit. Then he came back to his senses and realized how unrealistic that was and that he was in no position to be searching for a new job right now. He was on the verge of begging for his job back but what you’d heard from the back office was Eddie telling him not to ‘pull that shit again’ and to ‘get back to work’. No further discussions or arguments on the topic ensued since that day.

The chilly Autumn air brushed against your cheeks upon stepping out the door, not too much of a bite to it yet but enough to warrant a slight shiver. The sun had already set just over an hour ago, darkness already enclosing the surrounding world. It felt empty and devoid of life, but not in an apocalyptic way, but rather in a serene kind of way. It was quiet except for the whisper of leaves of the birch trees in the wind.

This place still felt so far from home and your loneliness was still as prominent as ever. You worked, went home, slept, woke up at around 10:00 AM, fixed breakfast, attempted to go back to sleep, failed and sometimes visited Donnie at the supermarket, and repeated. The routine was sad and you might as well have been a grouchy old woman that no one spoke to or went near, not a twenty something year old who should be making the most out of her life. The locals weren’t unfriendly, you just couldn’t seem to fit in. Jett was the closest thing you had to a ‘friend’, although he was your coworker and some may see it as mandatory that he remains friendly with you. Outside of work you had little to no interaction with others, usually opting to stay in and clean or watch reruns of some shows you had pre-recorded on a collection of VHS tapes. It’s not to say you didn’t enjoy your nights in, you just wished you had the option to call someone up to hang out or make plans every now and then.

Ten minutes flew by like it was seconds, the door leading inside swinging open unexpectedly and smacking against the concrete wall, Eddie’s head poking out in search of you.

“Excuse me, do you work here?” He asks sarcastically.

You control the urge to roll your eyes, having a better sense of his antics in the past two weeks and knowing that no real consequences would apply to you under these circumstances. You still maintain the need to react to his dramatics and remind him that you were helping him out just as much as he was helping you. But you push it down and straighten your posture.

“Yes.” You reply, eyes staring up at him with a hint of resistance.

“Could’ve had me fooled.” He snaps, ducking back inside.

Following him, you finally give into the urge to roll your eyes behind his back.

“I timed my break just right.” You notify him, glancing at your watch. “I was about to come back.”

“You’re a minute late.”

Instead of allowing you a chance to argue with him, he jumps right back into action and starts clearing off a vacant table. The rush hadn’t stopped all night, table after table being cleared only to immediately seat a new party.

After he strides off with a pile of glasses and a few plates, you get to work on wiping everything clean. It was a newfound system, a plan that hadn’t been agreed on by either of you but was understood regardless. With how understaffed the bar was, it worked like a charm.

Jett’s main role was behind the bar but every now and then he would catch onto whenever you and Eddie were running behind and he would swoop in to take care of a table or two. Recently, you learned that the other bartender, Pete, had quit and skipped town about a week before your arrival, making it that much harder to keep up with the demand of the customers who regularly chose The Bourbon to decompress at. So now it was only you, Eddie, Jett, and Randy running the whole place. It turned out not to be too bad of a gig, weeknights were slow enough and Sundays the bar was closed, leaving Thursdays, Fridays, and Saturdays as the busiest nights of the week. The tips were decent enough as well.

Especially from those creepy old men which was an unfortunate situation you could do without but hey, it helped pay the bills. If you ignored their advances and didn’t completely reject them, they’d leave behind a nice tip. It felt icky, pocketing the money but the more you thought about it, the more compelled you felt to take their money. If they were going to waste your time, you might as well be compensated for it.

One man in particular had been lurking at one of the corner tables, purposely opting out of the bar seating to instead have a higher chance of you waiting on him. He must have been in his sixties and had an unnerving stare that just made you want to hide back in the kitchen. You failed to inform Eddie, simply because he didn’t need further reason to see you as dainty or incapable of holding your own.

So you gulped down your fear and put the blinders on as best you could.

Just take his order and get it over with. Then you can move on with your night and hopefully he’ll be out of here soon.

And right off the bat, his disgusting mouth started running. Something about ‘can a pretty little thing like you get me a drink?’. Then a few more unsolicited nicknames with a smirk and some remark about how good your body looked. Something you didn’t care to hold onto in your mind, you only felt the need to take a shower.

As you rounded the corner of the bar and got to work making the pervert’s drink, you found yourself lost in thought. Thoughts about if he found out where you lived, you may be done for. It was a small town after all and it wouldn’t be difficult.

“Hey, you good?” Jett asks, shaker in hand, concern obvious in his knit eyebrows.

“What?” You’re pulled out of your mind, shaking your head as if to lure yourself back to reality. “Yeah, I’m fine.” You assure him.

He nods but his expression shows that he’s not very convinced. You finish off the drink you’d been absentmindedly making, a scotch on the rocks while offering Jett one more reassuring smile before making your way out from behind the bar.

Like you were throwing yourself back into the lion’s den, you approach the man’s table, hoping to quickly drop off his drink and be on your way. If only life were ever so kind to you.

“Thank you, sweetheart.” A disgusting grin paints his face and just before you can mumble an ‘mhm’ and rush off, an unwelcome hand gropes your ass, sliding down, down, down. You can’t see his face but you know he displays the most revolting smirk following his actions.

With a yelp followed by a gasp, you freeze. Paralyzed, you aren’t sure how to move forward, how do you recover from being reduced to a piece of meat? Flesh to be gawked at and held onto without permission. An object to be handled.

“I-I’m sorry but—“ You begin to stumble over your words but never get the chance to say much more when the sound of a chair screeching against the wood floors, arguably worse than nails on a chalkboard, is heard behind you.

Upon turning around, you’re met with the sight of your boss shoving the repulsive man toward the door by the collar of his mustard stained shirt. Eddie's strength shows despite his lean figure, appearing to have no trouble in maneuvering the man where he wants him against the door.

“What the fuck was that?” Eddie bites, nostrils flaring as his cheeks seem to heat with a hue of red.

“Listen—“

The man’s hands are thrown up in surrender but it’s apparent that wasn’t the true intent behind his actions. An excuse was on the tip of his tongue before Eddie cut him off, not an ounce of patience left.

“What. The. Fuck. Was that?” He repeats, grip tightening on the shirt collar, face inching closer to the man as a means of intimidation.

“Just a little flirting, she was into it.”

You can’t help but grimace at the pathetic attempt to cover up what had actually happened. And it seemed that Eddie didn’t take too well to that answer either, further pushing the man into the door if even possible. The scene had drawn the attention of almost the whole bar, a sea of eyeballs glued to the altercation about to happen, your very being flushed from embarrassment from the mere idea of being the source of all of it. Had you walked away quicker, it would’ve gone unnoticed and you could’ve gone on with your night, leaving everyone else undisturbed.

“Yeah?” Eddie cocks his head to the side, his chest heaving. “Didn’t seem like she was into it to me.”

“She was—“

“I wasn’t fuckin’ asking. She wasn’t into it.”

If looks could kill, the guy would be erased from existence with no trace of life left behind on Eddie’s account. His big brown eyes showcased pure rage, a distinct difference from the annoyance and the fiery glare he’d cast on you every so often, especially when you would forget to pile up the dishes his way. No, this was far more devastating and should you one day be the recipient of his aggressive stare, you’d be reduced to tears on the spot.

“Now you’re gonna get the hell out of my bar. I never wanna see you again—“

“Listen man, I’m not—“

“I’m fucking talking.” Eddie growls. “You get the hell out of here and never come back, you hear me? And you better fucking hope I don’t catch you pulling some shit like that again, I will kick your goddamn teeth in.” He promises.

Confrontations like this were not something you were familiar with, always running off before things got too far. You suppose that’s why people feel it was okay to use you as a doormat. It always feels easier to drop it and walk away, ‘be the bigger person’ or whatever they say. Even if it actually meant making you feel like the smallest person on earth.

All the back and forth and frequent swears with intention of aggravation had labored your breathing, your chest struggling to allow movement, feeling like a straw was delivering air to your lungs. Just when you’d attempt to swallow a big enough breath of air, it would all go to waste and only provide just enough oxygen to get by. A cold sweat threatened to spill from your hairline, your palms clammy to match. The murmurs and whispers of witnesses had your eyes darting from person to person, suddenly all too aware of the life you were living.

Too human.

You don’t remember another word exchanged between the two men and you certainly don’t remember how you managed to claw your way to the bathroom amidst the turmoil. But here you were, staring into the dingy mirror with no purpose other than to escape. And it wasn’t working. Suddenly the lights were too bright and the room was too small, but it was secluded and that's what mattered. Having some kind of an episode in front of the entire bar would be far worse, having an episode alone where prying eyes cannot dissect your every movement and reason for being is the better option. It wasn’t often that your mind went to this extent when being faced with a challenging situation but when it did, you didn’t find it easy to come out of.

You heard your name floating somewhere in the bleach scented air but couldn’t quite bring yourself back enough to recognize who required your attention. There was a head peeking in at the door after some frequent knocking and though you kept insisting you were okay and just to give you a few minutes, the individual seemed to have reason not to believe you.

“Hey, Ed!” He called behind him. It was Jett. A sweet and scared out of his mind Jett from what you could decipher through squinted eyes and blurred vision. He was obviously being faced with unfamiliar territory, I mean who is ever prepared to talk someone down from an anxiety attack in the middle of a shift? Panic was evident in his voice just as much as it was evident in your whole body.

“Eddie, I need some help!” He yells again. “Hey, you okay? What happened? Do you need–”

“Move over.” You hear Eddie mumble before the door swings open, the hinges squeaking painfully. “You’re asking too many questions.”

With a swift shut of the door, Jett hurries back to attend to the several customers awaiting service.

“Listen to me, Bambi. You gotta breathe.” His voice is smooth, a huge contrast to what you’d just heard moments ago.

When your legs begin to feel wobbly, as if you were a calf taking its first steps, you slowly lower yourself to the ground, a sturdy hand wrapping around your upper arm to support you.

“In.” Eddie inhales, though you can only hear him since your eyes are shut so tightly, your eyelids might rip. “Out.” He exhales. “C’mon, breathe in–”

“Is she oka—”

“Jett, fuck off for a minute. Please.” Eddie begs, clearly fed up before returning to his newfound gentle tone. “Can you look at me?” He diverts his attention back to you, Jett taking the hint and shutting the door, leaving you and Eddie alone.

Eyes squeezed shut, you shake your head. Your body shakes involuntarily, the anxiety becoming even worse when you try to contain it, like it wants to jump out and strangle you.

“Okay, okay.” He attempts to soothe. “You wanna get some air?” He asks just above a whisper.

“I-I dunno. ‘M sorry.” You manage to choke out, sniffling.

“Okay, no big deal.” He sighs, running a hand down his face, not out of irritation but more so exhaustion. “Let’s get you outside, it’s too hot in here.”

Before you can protest, he’s wrapping an arm around your shoulders and supporting the majority of your weight against him, walking you out of the bathroom and out the door into the alley. The chilly air bites at your skin and thankfully, reality slowly starts to return again.

“Try breathing again, in and out.” Eddie encourages.

You nod, jaw locked tightly both from the cold and from the paralyzing anxiety coursing through your veins. Your teeth feel as if they could crack at any second, the pressure from you biting down too immense but you can’t bring yourself to unhinge your jaw.

“In.” Eddie coaches, exaggerating a large breath, his chest rising with the motion. “Out.” He exhales through his mouth, his breath visible in the air.

He continues the breathing exercise a few more times, you following carefully as things become clear again. And from all that had just happened, all you could gather was that you were a huge baby who couldn’t handle a rogue customer. You weren’t capable of holding things down when it got rough.

Pathetic.

“I-I’m sorry, I don’t know–I don’t know what happened–” You try to make sense of it all, failing miserably.

“What happened was some pervert copped a feel and we don’t play around with that shit here.”

Anger is obvious within his expression, even more so when he pulls out his pack of cigarettes and lights one hastily.

“Did you…”

The question is on the tip of your tongue however, you won’t let yourself say it at the risk of sounding even more like an injured bird.

“What?” He asks, kicking around a few pebbles, the cigarette hanging from his lip before he brings his fingers up to grab it and inhale. His brows are knit together, still beyond bothered by the dispute that just occurred.

“Nevermind.” You mumble.

His gaze meets yours, lashes casting perfect shadows just over his cheek bones in the warm lighting of the street lamp and once again, among all the darkness that pools in those chocolatey irises, there is a twinkle. Barely noticeable but still there.

“What?” He urges again, voice monotone.

“Did you…did he…?”

“Did I fuck him up?” He asks, brows raised.

You nod bashfully, a hint of fear flashing in your eyes.

“No.” Eddie scoffs. “I should’ve though.” He flicks the ash from his cigarette toward the ground. “Motherfucker.” He mumbles.

“Why didn’t you then?”

It was too forward and you had no business asking. Really, it just tumbled out, off of your tongue, barely a thought behind it before it was too late. Now you were just asking for a reaction, not a good one at that.

“It was either that or let Bambi suffocate in the bathroom. Gotta pick your battles.” He gestures toward you, shrugging.

It wasn’t the reaction you were expecting, you were bracing for a bigger explosion. Waiting for him to tell you to get back to work and to stop asking questions. But he didn’t. He just continued to kick little pebbles around on the pavement, his boot scuffing along the surface as he smoked. He looked relaxed for once.

“Oh.” You reply, staring down at your own shoes. “I-I’m sorry.”

“Is apologizing like…your hobby?” He questions, shoving his other hand into his pocket.

“Well–uh no, no–”

“I love that you’re out here having bonding time but I’m a one man show in there and I need some supporting acts.” Jett interrupts, the door creating a gust of wind and then flooding you with temporary warmth from the air inside. “I at least need Eddie.” He pleads.

Nodding frantically, you begin to make your way back inside, Jett already speeding off to resume his duties.

“Hey, you okay to go back in there?” Eddie asks, dropping his cigarette and stomping it out. “You can take another minute–”

“I’m fine.” You insist. He didn’t need further evidence that you were frail and incapable. Whether it was intentional or not, he had bruised your sliver of self-confidence.

–

The rush was finally over, the last of it being a party of ten which left a table full of dishes to be delivered to the kitchen for washing. Each plate was stacked in your palms, piled high as you worked one hand out from underneath to add on a few cups, cutting down on the amount of trips you would need to make. You’d blocked out the vile events that occurred earlier in the night, at least until you had time to cry about it to yourself which when working at The Bourbon, there was never time for that. So it would have to wait until the drive home. Maybe you’d even save it for the shower where you could truly release all of your emotions in peace, no judging eyes or risk of a car accident.

Successfully stacking a few cups among the tower of plates, you spin on your heel, making your way toward the kitchen as the others cleaned up, Jett wiping down the bar and kicking out the lingering drunks, and Eddie cleaning up the mess that the pool table had become. It was 1:00 AM and if everyone did their part, you’d be out of here by at least 1:30. Tensions had been high all night, one inconvenience after another occurring, only adding onto everyone’s stress and only giving more incentive to clean quicker and go home. A broken glass here, a messed up order there.

The kitchen door is just in reach and when you push into it with your shoulder, all of your calculations fail, the pile of plates collapsing as they hit the door frame rather than dodging it like you intended. Each plate crashes against the floor, shattering into pieces, a few of the cups also breaking on impact. It was the icing on the cake of a bad night, the final straw and your reason to burst into tears and yet you don’t.

Not yet.

Not here.

A total of four eyeballs watch in shock, two more joining in as Randy, the cook peeks out from the kitchen door. Though the tears didn’t burst from your eyes quite yet, they did sting, they stung horribly. You could feel them brimming at your waterline, just a centimeter away from trickling down your cheek and exposing you as the biggest crybaby in the world. If it wasn’t already apparent.

Do not cry.

And if it wasn’t already bad enough, Eddie seemed to completely reverse his gentle attitude you’d become suddenly accustomed to earlier.

“What the hell.” He glares, slowly approaching as he sets a few glasses back down on the pool table. “Do you watch where you’re going? Do you have eyes?” He asks.

You don’t dare answer, frozen in place as your nerves tingle in panic once again. You don’t feel real. You feel as if your spirit has risen from your body and is watching over the conversation playing out.

��Now I’m out what–ten or so plates? Do you know what it costs–”

“Eddie.” Jett tries to take control of the situation, taking notice of your watering eyes. And unfortunately so does Eddie.

“What–oh, you’re gonna cry? What did I tell you? I told you this job wasn’t for someone like you.” Eddie snaps.

He was bitter, unpleasantly bitter like a shitty cup of coffee.

“Eddie, stop it.” Jett tries to defend you, though you wish you could defend yourself so you didn’t seem so pathetic.

“I told you I can’t babysit you–”

“I know.” You manage to quietly sob, bending down to start collecting the broken pieces. There’s an awkward moment of silence, the air thick with tension and anticipation of more insults. All you can do is wait.

“Just leave it, just–leave it.” Eddie sighs, running a hand through his bangs. “Just go home.”

The demand isn’t necessarily an insult like you’d imagined but it still feels backhanded. Like he was telling you ‘I told you so’ and rubbing it in your face. As if he gave you a chance with the means of preparing for this moment, the moment you fucked up even slightly.

“I’m gonna get the broom.” Jett says, eyes wide as he scampers to the back.

Staring up at Eddie, large pieces of plate collected in your hand, all you can make out in his eyes is outrage. Downplayed outrage that hadn’t fully escaped yet and you didn’t want to hang around long enough to witness it. He was capable of much more than he was letting on.

“If you can’t handle–”

“You know Eddie, you’re just mean. You’re being mean.” You declare through a frown, internally screaming at yourself to keep it together, to not let a tear spill over. He didn’t deserve the satisfaction of watching you cry.

“Did you know you never even asked for my name?” You swipe underneath your eyes, catching any tears that longed to trail down your cheeks, displaying your distress, instead wiping them on your apron.

His unkind stare lets up, eyes softening ever so slightly.

Too late.

“I’m not a person to you.” You drop the shards from your hands, standing up to head toward the back for your things.

“Wait–”

If he kept talking, you didn’t stick around to hear it. You scooped up your bag from the rusting lockers toward the back of the kitchen, tucked away in a corner before striding to the front, toward the bar. If he thought you were some kind of an entitled brat that needed babysitting then you were going to give him more than he bargained for. Granted, you weren’t thinking straight either, the stress of the night only adding up and creating an outburst you would otherwise bottle up.

Grabbing a shot glass from under the bar, you reach for one of the nicer tequilas, something smoother that wouldn’t burn as much. Tequila always put you in a good mood and never gave you a hangover. Filling the shot glass, you don’t even bother looking over at Eddie or Jett, who was now sweeping broken plates into a dustpan.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Eddie hurries over, staring you down. All you offer him in response is a shrug before tossing the liquor back.

Refilling the glass, you sneak a glance over at him from across the counter, his jaw dropped in shock and his face red and flushed with anger. Steam was nearly shooting out of his ears. The second shot is thrown back and your muscles begin to relax, anxieties melting away even at the basis of creating more problems.

If that wasn’t enough for him, you finished it off with a third shot, hoping it wouldn’t be too much all at once. You were brave enough to look right into his eyes, daring him to say the wrong thing.

“What are you doing?” He asks again, calmer but still heated.

“I’m just acting how you think I should.” You answer, a fake smile painted across your lips.

“I’m not comping those.”

His focus burns into you, lips in a tight line as he watches. If looks could kill. For the second time that night. Except this time, you were on the receiving end and had you not been three shots in, it would’ve terrified you and had you apologizing profusely.

“Well, I’m not paying for them.” You say, pouring yourself one more for good measure, swallowing it like it was water.

As you go to make your big exit, you’re faced with a harsh reality. You’re definitely drunk, or at least very close to being drunk as the alcohol consumes your body, and you’re definitely not driving home like this. You did not think this through. But you kept walking anyway through the kitchen and out to the back just to lean against the concrete wall pathetically. You were starting to wish that you’d gulped down some water before leaving to aid in sobering up.

If the sight of you leaning against the wall behind a bar at 1:12 AM wasn’t sad enough, tack on the fact that you had finally let the waterworks flow, your drunk self especially susceptible to your muddled emotions.

“Bambi, what the fuck. You gonna drive?” Eddie emerges from the kitchen door leading outside, seemingly cooled down but you still don’t trust it.

“Don’t call ‘m Bambi.” You slur.

“What are you doing out here?” He ignores your protest.

“‘Jus gimme a few minutes.” You whine, eyes shut as if it would make him disappear.

“No, not a few minutes. You’re not driving.”

You never intended on driving but you were finding it difficult to fight him off in your discombobulated state, willing to say anything to get him to leave. Obviously he had the upper hand at this moment, clearly able to outsmart you.

“I know.” You wail, tears on full display for him.

“I’ll drive you, let me get my keys.”

“Nooo, wha ‘bout Jett?” You ask, wiping away your tears, mascara coating your fingertips.

“Jett doesn't live right next door to you, you’d just be making him go out of his way for no reason.”

Snot dripping from your nose, you glare up at him, earning an expectant stare from him. All you can do is roll your eyes, too drunk to care anymore. You still preferred having Jett go out of his way, at least he respected you as a person. But the argument was lost among gargled thoughts and a short term memory.

“Still mean.” You insult, finger poking at his chest harshly. It doesn’t do much.

It feels like hours that you two are staring at each other, likely due to the alcohol running through your system. He hesitates in running back inside, even if just for a few seconds to grab his keys, his eyes looking you over in concern. A muttered ‘be right back’ is heard and then he’s gone.

The stars catch your attention, drastically brighter than they would be back home, many more of them too. A few stand out, gleaming in the sky and making them that much more admirable. Your mind drifts off to thoughts of the Milky Way, swirling around the universe and ultimately making you feel infinitely smaller and more insignificant.

What was your place?

Eddie steps back out, keys twirling around his fingers, straight-faced, not an ounce of amusement in his handsome features. Glancing at him briefly, you then tilt your head back up toward the sky, dazed and almost in a trance. If you weren’t careful, you could’ve been staring at him like that. But you weren’t that drunk.

Or so you thought.

Thinking about it, you must have been the spitting image of insane; mascara smeared across your face, tears glimmering in the moonlight, and your bottom lip set in a perfect pout like a child waiting to get their way. Your bag was twisted around your body in the most uncomfortable way but you couldn’t find it in you to untwist it and realistically, you should be wearing your jacket but instead its clutched in your fist, the cold pricking at your skin and eliciting goosebumps up and down your arms. The chattering of your teeth interrupted the silence and played as the soundtrack of your hazy daydreaming.

It also let Eddie know that he needed to either force you to put your jacket on, or get you in the car. And he knew he wouldn’t win that first battle so ushering you to the passenger seat it was.

“C’mon.” Is all he says, huffing out a breath.

You vaguely recall being helped into the passenger’s side but you don’t remember walking a few yards to actually reach the car or if you were even able to do so on your own. From what you could tell in your state, his car was a beaten up thing, kinda old but it smelled like those little pine tree air fresheners.

Once the scenery outside started to move, all thoughts subsided, the only one left was solely to keep yourself from vomiting all over your boss’s car. You would stoop as low as to drink his most expensive tequila but vomiting all over his carpeted floor was another low you wouldn’t dream of wishing upon anybody.

Trees zoomed by and you were sure you were going cross eyed from trying to keep up with each and every one. Some metal song plays through the speakers but in your own little world, you hardly hear it, still subconsciously bobbing your head to the fading beat.

One minute you were sitting content in your dream land, the next Eddie was shoving something into your hands while urgently pulling over. Your mind hadn’t caught up to what was happening yet however, you could vaguely make out Eddie yelling at you to aim for the bag while you stared directly into said bag. When you glanced over at him, everything felt as if it were in slow motion and again, he was panicking while yelling at you to ‘puke in the bag!’.

The perfect cocktail of a situation for an individual so reserved and so inexperienced with this much attention. At least most of it would be a blur by morning.

–

“There you go, just grab my–shoulder! Ow!” Eddie complains, your fingers a bit too comfortable with digging into his skin through his cotton shirt as you attempt to hoist yourself up into a standing position from the passenger seat.

Home was only steps away and then you could collapse wherever you pleased. Forget about this stupid night. At least until you awakened as your regularly anxious self. You’d have a few hours of drunken bliss to forget about life but that’s all you were allowed. Then you would need to face your consequences, whatever they may be. Come the morning, you most likely wouldn’t have a job anymore, Eddie would probably come knocking at your door and let you know that you blew it. And he’d probably laugh in your face at the fact that you proved yourself to be too weak, too dainty, as he so adamantly proclaimed before.

“Oh no.” You mumble, feeling yourself wobbling, knees giving out underneath you.

“Whoa, whoa, okay! You’re fine, you’re fine.” Eddie stabilizes you, arms around your waist.

Your limbs might as well be Jello at this point, rendering you a useless human unable to even stumble to your destination. It dawns on you that you can’t remember if you even actually puked in the car or not. Was it coating his interior or had you shoved your head in the bag just in time to spew your guts? Or did you bravely swallow it down? Whatever the case, Eddie doesn’t seem to currently have any grievances or any trouble touching you so you must have been somewhat responsible about it.

Your weight depends on him, leaning into his chest as he practically carries you toward the house. Your eyes flutter repeatedly and—your question of whether you had already puked or not is quickly answered as the contents of your stomach spill out and onto his shirt before you’re able to aim for the ground. Humiliation was starting to look like your middle name.

As you dry heave and allow a long string of saliva to drip from your mouth while hunched over in the dirt, you hear Eddie muttering several curses. You think for sure he’s going to ditch you for creating such a stir up throughout the night until his boots come into view in front of you, his hand pulling the hair away from your face as you finish emptying your stomach.

“Okay.” He sighs. “Puke it out.” A hesitant hand smoothes over your back, the lightest touch.

The smell of putrid vomit invades his nose, nausea threatening to take over him as well if he didn’t hold his breath. Try as he may to ignore the chunks of god knows what on his shirt, it was still all that was on his mind. He didn’t even want to chance looking down if there was the slightest possibility that it had also gotten in his hair. Even being covered in your sick, he knows he should be fuming. But he’s not and it's all so puzzling.

You marched your ass behind his bar and consumed more tequila than you could handle which in turn forced him to drive you home and then you vomited all over him. If that’s not enough reason to be pissed beyond belief then he doesn’t know what is. Yet he remains calm and collected, running his hand between your shoulder blades as he soothes you throughout your dry heaving and gagging.

“It won’t–oh god–it won’t stop.” You sob, looking up at him, a mixture of snot, tears, and saliva coating the lower half of your face.

You look repulsive and yet he can’t tear his eyes away from you. The prettiest definition of repulsive he’d ever seen.

“Don’t hold it back, let it all out. You’re only gonna feel like shit if you hold any of it in.” He instructs, kneeling down to meet your eye level.

With a few sniffles and hiccups, you nod. Only now you’re hyper aware of being watched. It was a sobering experience, puking right in front of your house, not able to even make it to the nearest toilet while your boss spectates and–oh.

It hits you that the front of his shirt is caked in your puke, bile soaking the fabric while remnants of your late lunch displays itself on his perfect black shirt. You would never live this down and you would certainly never work another shift at The Bourbon again. Even if he did scream at you for no good reason, you took it a few levels too far.

“Y-your shirt, oh no–”

“Relax, okay, Bambi? I can handle a little puke, now where’s your key?” He asks.

It’s not that he could handle a little puke, he had to. Because what good would it do if the two of you were both throwing up in your front yard?

Attempting to answer him, the rest of your stomach interrupts and unexpectedly spews all over his combat boots. As if the night couldn’t get any worse.

“Shit.” He mutters under his breath.

“‘M sorry, ‘m so sorry.” You whimper, glassy eyes staring up at him with regret. “I din’t mean it, I swear, m’ just–”

“I know.” Eddie exhales. “You done puking, is there anything else left in there?”

Shaking your head in sorrow, a few more hiccups escape your lungs but there are no further signs that you’re going to be sick again. Even if you were, it didn’t matter anymore, Eddie was already well acquainted with your vomit, what harm would a little more do at this point?

As you start shuffling through your bag and patting at your pockets, panic settles in and you can only recall that the last place you’d seen your keys was at the bar, where you set them down to spitefully gulp down as much tequila as you could. Now it was biting you in the ass, hard.

“Left my keys at the bar.” You pout pitifully.

Eddie glares at you, rightfully so. The man was covered in foul smelling vomit, kneeling on the ground, taking care of you.

“Fucking christ.” He mumbles.

~end~

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tags - @gravedigginbbydoll @ohauggieo @spicysix @lunatictardis @ali-r3n @batkin028 @mrsjellymunson @witchwolflea @emma77645 @emxxblog @eddiemunson95 @angietherose @lottie-90 @sheneedsrocknroll92 @pullingattheroots @avalon-wolf @vintagehellfire @cryingglightningg @foreveranexpatsposts @winchester-angel @mmunson86 @witchwolflea @kurdtbean@micheledawn1975 @tlclick73 @erinekc @hazydespair @whenshelanded @corrodedcoffincumslut @ms1oftheboys @lma1986 @uglypastels

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson au #stranger things au #stranger things fic #stranger things

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lercymoth · 1 month

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I'm watching the State of the Union and I'm reminded why no matter what, we won't have justice as long as we have representative democracy. Biden just claimed "I will not rest until we rescue all the hostages held by Gaza" and then realized it was bad press to not be against the Palestinian genocide and then immediately started stating he wanted a ceasefire and wanted innocent Palestinians to be protected, and THEN stated he sided with Israel.

Typical politician... Just say the words people want to hear about the issues they care about just to get votes so you can stay in power. Politicians don't, won't, and never will care about what we want except for how it relates to them.

As long as we let them have power over us, we will never have power over what atrocities they will support and enable, both on our own land, and all over the world. The US government won't stop destroying the environment and keeping us in poverty if we ask them politely to stop. They won't dismantle a police system built on favoring police officers and the incarceration and execution of innocent people, they won't give stolen land back, they won't completely outlaw slavery or dismantle the numerous eugenics laws towards disabled people that still exist. They won't be against genocide, even when it's actively happening.

And even if they do, it'll be a means to an end. It'll be a distraction. They'll just be dangling it in front of our faces saying "Look! We did what you wanted! We're on your side! We totally care about social justice!"

Although I dont want to, I'm voting for Biden just so Trump doesn't become president. But mark my words, whats stopping the next democratic president from doing stuff like Joe Biden did? Lying to us about caring about justice, just saying what we want to hear? And even if we vote, say, a socialist president, whats stopping them from doing the same thing?

I dont know what we do about this, but when the time comes, we need to organize on a large scale and do SOMETHING. I dont know what or how, but we need to change something, and not be okay with system where people in power make the big choices for us, and we just hope they do what we want with not a care in the world about injustice.

#free gaza #free palestine #activism #social justice #abortion #ableism #gaza #palestine #israel #news on gaza #joe biden

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lokisprettygirl · 5 months

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Close Ties (Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Modern AU) (Non canon) (18+)

Read Chapter 4 // Series Masterlist

Chapter 5

Summary : Daemon finds himself being pulled towards you like a moth to a flame, you're not any different, how long would you two resist the forbidden fruit?

Warning: 18+, smut, dad's best friend trope, canon (we don't know her..don't like don't read), familial uncle niece sort of relationship but he's not really her uncle, there will be more smut later, significant age gap but reader is in her mid twenties, mention of infidelity, divorce, smoking and alcohol drinking, physical violence implied

It's been a week since Daemon has been living with your parents, he was in the process of finding a place of his own but that wasn't in the top of his priorities at the moment, your dad insisted that he should get financially stable before he thinks about investing in housing.

The divorce settlement had really ruined him. Besides, your dad had this big house but not many people who could live in it, it was nice for him to have his friend around again. It felt like the old times when Daemon wasn't married and crashed into your parents' home whenever he wanted.

Since that conversation that day things had been a bit tense between you and Daemon, but in more of a sexual way or maybe you were just making things up because you were so besotted with him and his charm.

When he came back that night he broke things off with Cassandra for good, she threw a fit again and for a moment you felt awful that you had driven him to hurt her feelings but if he didn't have feelings for her it was for the best, she only would have gotten more attached to him with time and that would have hurt much worse, you still felt like a bad friend though.

She was devastated, even more than the last time and when you tried to console her she got upset with you as well and told you that you would never really understand how she was feeling at the moment which wasn't true at all. Next day she told you that she was going on a vacation to Italy with her other group of friends ..you knew those people, you were all in college together but you didn't stay in touch with everyone. You just hoped everything would go back to normal once she's over her dickfatuation.

Dylan had also stopped calling from the past few days which you couldn't have been more grateful for. When another Saturday rolled around you really wanted to just go down at the beach and sit in peace in order to clear your thoughts but you bumped into Daemon in the living room and he so politely asked if you'd mind if he joined you. Of Course you weren't going to deny him.

He drove you to Chelsea beach and you both made small talks with each other on the way but it didn't feel awkward, the more time you spent with him the more comfortable you got with him, though that was never an issue for you when he was in the picture, he always made you feel at home whenever he was around. You had an introverted personality so being around someone like him was calming for you.

As soon as you felt the wind in your hair, you felt so relaxed, and you were glad that he had joined you. It was a starry night with a full moon so even in the dark you were able to see each other's faces clearly.

"Is that arse still bothering you?" He asked you as he pulled a cigarette out to light it up but you grabbed it from between his fingers and buried it under the sand so he didn't even attempt to take out another one. The spark you felt when his skin touched yours for that brief second was electric.

"Thankfully no..he sent a two page long text though about how regretful he is and how miserable he feels"

"Of Course he does, they often learn that their own kind doesn't really have much to offer except sex"

"Do you miss her?" You asked him and he was silent for a few seconds before he chuckled, he always seemed lost whenever he was alone. You couldn't imagine how heartbroken he must have been to let go of the woman he so wanted the hold onto forever,

"I miss the woman I had married" he answered you honestly so you hummed before speaking, you wanted to say all kinds of things about her, even as a child you never really liked her because she just seemed like one of those people that were nice to everyone around them but it was just superficial and never genuine. And you were jealous obviously..

"The woman you thought you married" you said to him,

"Yeahh"

"If you could go back and rewrite it all..would you?" You asked him softly in order to make him open up to you, he had gone to see his family this week but you could tell things were strained there because he wasn't good at keeping in touch for all these years and you weren't sure if him and his best friend were able to have a heart to heart just yet.

"Are you asking me if I'd marry her again?"

"Mmmhm"

"I don't know darling..when we got married I envisioned this future where we grew old together..a year into our marriage I was shown why i won't get to have that future but I kept denying the truth, turned blind eye to that side of her i despised so deeply because i believed in her and her love, she loved me ..still does I think..so do i..but she just doesn't respect me..never did " he chuckled at the end of his sentence but it was more from sadness rather than amusement.

"And you deserve that, you deserve loyalty in return uncle..I'm sorry she didn't appreciate what she had in you"

He turned his head to look at you as you said that,

"Took me a decade to figure out that You could live without love in a relationship but not the faith .. once the trust is broken it never really stays the same..never go back to the the person that cheated on you darling..you'd always live in doubt, looking over your shoulder, wondering where your partner is at the moment or with whom"

Your eyes teared up as he said that, the sheer pain in his voice pierced your heart so in order to comfort him you scooted closer to him and wrapped your arms around his neck then you placed your chin down on his shoulders. Maybe he was a bit taken aback because it took him a few seconds to reciprocate the hug. He kissed your temple before he wrapped his arms around your waist. Why did this feel so natural and so perfect? For a moment you felt as if this was all you needed in life or would ever need in life, just being in his arms felt enough, in that moment you craved nothing else but then you remembered who he was to you so you pulled away and distanced yourself away from him ..

"You know some women would kill for that sort of commitment from a man of your calibre..you'd find someone to grow old with i promise" he smiled at the compliment and booped your nose playfully before he laid down on the sand underneath him,

"I already feel so old pixie" he groaned slightly and it made you smile. If only he knew how desirable he was. Men like him were rare, maybe that's why you wanted to keep him for yourself.

"But you're not..trust me you're not"

"You won't feel that way when you're almost forty three sweetheart "

"Maybe I won't ..I won't argue with you on that..you have more experience in life of course "

"Ohh you're such a good girl..are you not?"

You gulped as he said that, both because of his words and the way the praise rolled off his lips, everything about him turned you on.

"Well I try to be"

"You have got a good head on your shoulders..don't bother over that arse..do you want me to go set him straight?" you chuckled and then you laid down on your spot as well, maintaining an appropriate amount of distance between you two.

"And what will you do with him uncle? I'm not 14 anymore and neither is he..you can't just go all meanie on him like you did with Trevor" your tone was exaggerated and it made him smile, he found himself smiling often whenever he was around you. It was something he had forgotten in the past few years.

"Ahhhh that bully in your school..i remember him" he said to you and you couldn't help but giggle at a certain memory.

"You know he pissed his pants later because he was so afraid of you?" he let out a laugh as he was reminded of the day, you had a bully in your school and of course you didn't tell anyone until your sweet uncle Daemon found you crying one day and made you spill it all to him.

He perched himself on his elbow and turned towards you so you turned your head to look at his face and his unbuttoned untrimmed chest. You wanted to scoot closer and press your face against his broad chest and perhaps run your tongue over his skin. You felt grateful that he wasn't a mind reader or you'd be in hell a lot of trouble right now.

"That day you said he did more than just cheat on you..what did he do?" He asked you and that ultimately snapped you out of the state of arousal, his voice was firm and that was an indication that he was very serious in wanting to learn the truth

"It happened just once, soo ..I just.. don't want you to feel bad or just–"

"He put his hands on you?" He interjected, he had a sinking feeling that you were hurt in that way.

You gulped and immediately looked nervous as he said that because he wasn't wrong.

"We were arguing, I found that he was seeing this other girl for the past few months and I was so upset..i was yelling and screaming and he kept asking me to shut up but I didn't.. ofcourse..so he just grabbed me and slapped me once.. really hard"

Your eyes teared up as you recalled the memory and you didn't want him to see that so you closed your eyes but then you felt his fingers caressing your scalp in a comforting manner and all you wanted to do was to snuggle against him and cry some more.

"Keep going pixie…talk to me "

"That is all uncle..I just..i had never been hurt that way so that experience kind of stuck with me"

"Did you tell anyone? It's not healthy to keep such things to yourself" he asked you, his voice was still firm but now it held a tinge of tenderness

"I told Cassandra..she was so furious and she went to his house to go off on him..he hadn't bothered me for days after that but since Bali he has been calling me again"

Daemon nodded as you said that, there was a guy named Dylan that had been calling Cassandra as well plenty of times in Bali .. however everytime he called she always excused herself so he never really got to hear their conversation. Was it the same guy or someone else? With his experiences he didn't really trust the type of woman that Cassandra seemed to be.

He wasn't even thinking clearly, he just wanted to comfort you so he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead but he didn't pull away immediately, he couldn't, you looked so beautiful under the moonlight that he wanted to cross those boundaries and dive deeper into this fantasy. You didn't make it easy for him as you bit on your lips subconsciously while your eyes lingered over his lips. It took everything in him to pull himself away from you, as much as he wanted to. It was a line he couldn't have crossed because he wouldn't be able to go back if he did so.

Things would change forever after that, you'd no longer be his sweet little niece that he had promised to protect, that pure relationship he shared with you would get tarnished just because he wasn't able to control his desires or so he feared, a part of him wanted to explore the depth of this situation between you two but the cons always weighed over the pros, he would risk losing everything again.

"We should get back home pixie..it's late..your parents would worry" he stood up suddenly and put his hand out for you to get up as well..

"Argghhh I'm not a child uncle"

"But you whine like one"

"Heyyyy"

As he drove you back home, you felt restless, was he going to kiss you? Did he want to? That felt like a moment..a romantic one. You knew he'd never be the first one to take that sort of leap but you also knew now that he was attracted to you in a way a man is supposed to be attracted to a woman. You also understood that he must be as conflicted about this as you were, however none of you were going to say anything but for how long you thought. How long would you two be able to keep this charade going?

"I think i should go back to my place tomorrow" you said to him so he turned his head to look at you, you couldn't read the look on his face.

"Mmmm where do you live?"

"Just right outside of Chelsea ..in Kensington "

"You live there alone?"

"Yup…one bedroom apartment..humble abode.."

"Have you thought about joining the family business?" He asked you, making you sigh deeply in response.

"Yeah..dad has been asking me to do that since I graduated..I just..I'm not sure..it's not that i love my job or anything but I do like my independence"

"Darling..you'd still be independent..in fact you'd have even more security and freedom there"

"I know but then I'd be that girl.. daddy's girl ..that never had to work hard, everything was served to her on a diamond platter..blah blah" he chuckled as you said that but then he was serious again.

"What's wrong in being the daddy's girl? Your father worked all his life so you could live yours luxuriously" your brows furrowed as he said that,

"I feel like you're trying to coax me"

He chuckled again as you said that to him.

"No ..I'm just trying to make it clear that your privileges are not going to define you as a person but what you do with said privileges most definitely will. I'm just asking you to consider it once ..learn everything from him while he's here..life is short..you never know..you'd be the one to keep his legacy going if you choose to do so of course" you hummed in response as he said that..his words made sense. "Besides he really does need trustworthy people around him, his personal finances are a staggering mess"

"Mmmm I'd think about it. I must say you're a very persuasive bloke Mister Daemon" you mumbled softly so he smiled,

"Why thank you" you smiled as you looked at him, he was so pretty and he didn't even know that. You wondered often if Stella ever treated him like the man that he was.

"I'm glad you're back..he really needed you. And he had missed you..he never really said it out loud but on occasions after he was heavily drunk I'd often catch him staring at the picture of you two that he always keeps in his drawer"

His eyes moistened as you said that, he knew how unbearable the pain felt and how heartbroken he was at the time, but he had to leave, he couldn't have stayed here after what had gone down between them .

"It's good to be back home darling Pixie"

You had several questions regarding his sudden detachment from your family, they were best friends for years, been there for each other during ups and downs, your father was his best man at his wedding. He was there for your parents when they miscarried, what happened that was so bad that it couldn't have been fixed with time?

For days after he had left you felt as if things would get okay, that maybe he'd come back once he realizes what he was missing here but he didn't. Days turned into weeks into months and when a year went by you knew their friendship had ended for real.

But you never figured out what had actually happened, the last time you saw him was when you returned from school and he was storming out of your parents house with tears streaming down his face, he seemed angry and hurt, he seemed livid, and when you saw your father he seemed to have the same look on him.

Ever since then you had wondered who was at fault here, what had happened that was so irreversible that it drove them apart in such a way?

He never even said goodbye to you, he just left as if he couldn't wait to get away from this place.

As you both reached home, your dad was at the bar in the living room so he invited Daemon to have a drink with him, your dad wanted you to join them as well but you weren't in the mood to drink which felt refreshing for a change because you were always in the mood to drink as it helped you to forget things. However you still felt intoxicated, all your senses felt soused on his sweet cologne and the time you had just spent with him wasn't something you wanted to forget.

Later that night you felt a small knock on your door, so timid that it would have gotten unanswered if you weren't so wide awake, when you opened the door you found him on the other side, completely tipsy, suddenly a feeling of deja vu rose the anticipation in your heart. What was he going to do today?

"What can I do for you uncle? Are you okay?" You asked him and he walked a few steps closer, you could smell the scent of the most expensive whiskey and the branded cigarettes on his clothes, that combined with his own scent almost made him seem so godly to you that you just wanted to go down on your knees and worship him, you'd have done that without hesitation if he had asked you even once.

He held your cheeks between his hands and kissed your forehead, his lips lingered over your skin for a while, his mind screamed at him to just turn around and leave but his heart was in charge while he was hammered, that and his cock ofcourse.

You looked up at him and you felt his thumb grazing over your lips again before he leaned down and kissed the corner of your mouth, he was so close but not enough. He was still holding back, even in his messed up state he was trying to keep those boundaries intact.

"Uncle"

You whispered his name softly as you didn't want him to do anything he'd regret later even though you knew the little kiss at the corner of your mouth was already beyond the bounds of what was considered normal between a supposed uncle and niece. You were going to spend the night thinking about the way his lips felt against your skin. His fingers curled around your neck and he pressed your head up so you were looking him in the eye,

"Never ever pull a cigarette out of my hands ever again..alright?" He told you sternly and every inch of your skin felt on fire, suddenly your head was filled with images of him setting you straight for your insolent behaviour..

Could he just put you in your place like this more often?

"Mmmm yess..I'm so sorry mister daemon..i know i shouldn't have done that..that was out of line"

You mumbled softly and the corner of his mouth curved into a smile,

"That's my good girl..my sweet and polite pixie"

Just make the move and bloody kiss her.

That's what his heart told him to do and he knew you'd let him do that, and he also knew you'd not stop him from going further but even in his fucked up state he knew he couldn't do that you. Not now, not tomorrow, not ever.

However his resolve was going to break and shatter completely sooner than later, he just didn't know that yet.

😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏😏

Taglist

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#daemon targaryen #daemon targaryen x female reader #daemon targaryen x reader angst #daemon targaryen x reader fluff #daemon targaryen x reader smut #modern day au #non canon au #modern daemon targaryen #age gap relationship

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