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thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 months

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the slow night

buttercup, chapter six

a/n: he a hoe and I love him. thank you and goodnight.

summary: as the peck blossomed into something much more ravenous, a soft laugh began to billow out of you, “Mr. Murdock,” you tilted your head back as his lips began to flutter down your neck, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you came over here to seduce me.”

warnings: matt murdock x baker!reader, smut, neighbours to lovers, rape recovery, ptsd, the black daredevil suit, kissing, semi public sex (at the bakery), clothed sex, dirty talk, hair pulling, oral, protected sex, penetrative sex, multiple orgasms

word count: 3244

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Leaning against the doorway to the small bakery bathroom, you watched Walter’s tongue poke out the side of his mouth as he flicked glittery stripes of eyeliner over his lids.

“You sure you’re okay with closing up on your own tonight?” you heard Howard ask you as he sat on a low stool some space behind you, bending down to tie his shoes.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you smiled, glancing back over your shoulder at him, “you two deserve a night off.”

Staring out into space, your uncle leaned his tattooed forearms on his robust thighs a moment as he murmured, “you know, I don’t even remember the last time we went out…” casting a glance past you at the bald man in front of the mirror, Howard raised his voice, “honey, did you find out what queens are performing tonight?”

Popping the lid back on the pencil, the former club kid tilted his head approvingly in the reflection, “I think Holly Day still works Friday nights there, but other than that I have no idea,” he exited the bathroom, only to press a small peck to your cheek as he slid passed.

“Urgh,” you groaned with a smile, letting your inner child temporarily show as you dragged the back of your palm over the faint lipstick stain, “well, have fun you two!”

“Night, night, cupcake,” Howard blew you a few brief kisses as the pair scurried out of the shop, “don’t forget to feed the sourdough starter, oh! And mix a new batch of ginger maple cookies, portion them out and pop them in the freezing–, also–”

“Howard,” you interrupted him with a smile just as Walter pulled open the back door for them to exit, “I know what I need to do. I’ve done this countless of times before, I’ll be perfectly fine.”

“Alright,” he exhaled slowly.

“If it’ll help, I can send you a picture of the place before I lock up.”

A relieved smile then warmed up your uncle’s features, “thank you, sweetie.”

Half yanking his husband out of the door, Walter offered you one last wave, “bye, Y/n!” before the solid door slammed shut behind them.

Bending down, you put the last one of the wide and clean bowls away on the bottom shelf of the metal storage system in the corner of the kitchen.

The skirt of your dress swooshed gently around your legs as you straightened back up, like a summer breeze, fluttering against your skin. Reaching for a clean cloth, you briefly ran it under the tap before wiping down the aftermath beside the sink following your dance with the dishes. One of the tiny puddles of splashed water soaked your apron as you leaned over the steel table to reach deeper, turning it a darker shade of brown right over your belly button.

Just then, from out of nowhere, “hi,” the voice of your neighbour echoed throughout the kitchen, thoroughly startling you and causing the rag to drop from your grasp.

“Ah!” you jumped, haven not even heard the back door creak open, “Matthew!” pressing a soothing palm to your chest as you spun around, a light giggle flowed from your lips, “oh my god, you scared the crap out of me!”

“Sorry,” he chuckled, leisurely leaning against the far counter close to the back exit.

You already knew he’d be out on patrol tonight, but actually seeing him stand there before you was something else entirely. The black suit clung tight to his physic, and now that grave injuries no longer distracted and adorned his visage, the vision of the obsidian vigilante that stood in front of you proficiently provided you with a sinful shiver that trickled down your spine.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, attempting to brush off the tingle that bloomed between your thighs.

A bold smirk bloomed on his lips, visible below the dark mask, as he slowly stepped closer to you, “it’s a slow night,” gently tugging his gloves off and tossing them to the table he passed, an action you didn’t expect to find as seductive as you evidently did, goosebumps now blossoming all along your arms.

“A slow night, huh?” you chuckled, tilting your chin as he neared.

“And I was in the area,” he cocked his head as his hands settled on either side of your frame, leaning against the counter behind you.

“How convenient,” you smiled, his light-hearted explanations not convincing you in the slightest. Matt’s fingers then found your chin, tilting it further up as he bent down to brush his lips against your own. Your knees nearly buckled as you felt yourself swiftly sink into the intoxicating sensation, your arms gliding up and over the black fabric that hugged him, till they were locked around his neck. As the peck blossomed into something much more ravenous, a soft laugh began to billow out of you, “Mr. Murdock,” you tilted your head back as his lips began to flutter down your neck, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you came over here to seduce me.”

Mirroring your own chuckle, he playfully tested, “and what if I am, huh?”

“Wait, really?” you giggled, your hands seized each side of his face and pulled him back a bit as his hot mouth worked wonders at making you lose your train of thought, “you sure you weren’t just hungry or something?”

“Hm,” his palms slid up to cup over yours as he cheekily said, “something, yeah…” peeling your fingers off of his stubbly cheeks, he placed a few pecks in your open palms, “I would fucking love a taste of something sweet.”

Tearing your gaze away from his onyx visage, you briefly cast a glance around the space, “uhm, I don’t really know what’s left over from today, but there might be someth–”

“Nuh-uh, that’s not the kinda treat I was thinking of,” he smirked brightly as he wrapped his arms around your waist, drawing you in closer to his warmth as his fingers sneaked under the apron’s knot.

Finally reading his obvious subtext, “o-oh,” you couldn’t help but giggle as he then leaned down to kiss you again, swallowing your laugh till it melted away into a low moan that vibrated against his lavish tongue.

Scrambling closer, you damn nearly climbed him like a tree with how desperately you clawed at his mass. When his touch slid further down your frame and curved around your ass, he briefly offered you a squeeze that you swore soared all the way to the sensitive nerve endings in your throbbing clit, before he scooped you up and sat you down on the steel countertop. As he slotted his width in between your parted thighs, his teeth playfully caught your bottom lip.

Fluttering your fingers further up, you cupped the sides of his face as the heated make-out slowly began to ease. The tips of your touch grazed the bottom of his black mask as you gently pulled back.

Blinking back at him through your lashes, your digits ghosted over the material as you uttered, “…can I take this off?”

A faint smile tugged at his lips as he softly nodded, “mhm,” and let you peel the charcoal mask off of him. Letting it drop to the table right beside where you sat, you gazed back at him for a moment, his chocolate eyes gently crinkled up in bliss as you briefly traced a light caress over a few of his newly revealed features before you sealed your lips with his once more.

Undoubtedly, your panties must have clung to your core at this point from how soaked they felt.

Abruptly, Matt’s soft lips suddenly strayed from yours. Fluttering your gaze open, a giggle bubbled out of your lungs as you saw him slowly sink down to the tile floor beneath you.

“Matty,” you beamed, your touch straying from his cheek as he settled down on his knees.

Slowly raising a sliver of your hemline up to your knees, his lips grazed against your shin and leisurely roamed further north.

Burying your fingers in the fabric of your dress, you gently began to hike it up till it, and the brown apron, bunched above your hips.

Your breathing was ragged, and your mouth hung agape when his kisses neared your centre. One of his warm palms stayed planted on your inner thigh after he’d split your legs further to grant himself better access as you sat there, nearly dangling on the edge.

A shiver ran through you when he placed a brief kiss to the soaked spot soddening your underwear, before his reach extended and hooked the cotton to the side, a sting of your slick clung momentarily to the fabric before snapping back against your core.

“Fuck,” he let out a gravelly groan and you felt his breath tickle your cunt before his hand, the one not clutching your soaked panties, curled around your frame and tugged you towards him, closing the minuscule distance between his zealous mouth and your glistening centre.

Parting your petals with dizzying laps, Matt let out a moan as he made out with your pussy, the tickling vibrations caused your thighs to tremble beside his head.

“God…” spellbound, he pulled back for but a second, “your pussy tastes like fucking heaven,” before he tilted his chin and enraptured your clit, fervently sucking down on it in a way that made your eyes roll in your skull.

“Oh my god, I–, I–…” you panted, sensing yourself race towards the finish line, but even with how incredible his tongue made you feel, deep down within you rumbled a feral feeling for more. As your pelvis bucked lightly against his efforts, you gasped, “Matt… get up…” unsure if you’d ever felt so empty in your entire life, “get up right fucking now.” When he rose, the lower part of his face glinting with your want, he didn’t get a chance to say anything before you yanked him by his shirt and crashed your lips against his. With the intoxicating taste of yourself lingering on your mouth, your heavy breath fanned across his face as you desperately uttered, “in the corner behind you, on the hook beside where my coat is, my bag, the little front pocket.”

Breathlessly, his expression fogged up in soft puzzlement, “what?”

“I went to the drugstore earlier,” you said, hoping that you wouldn’t have to spell it out for him.

It actually took him a second for him to realise what you were talking about, “oh,” as if he hadn’t hoped or expected anything more than what you’d just let him do. Crossing the room in mere moments, a playful chuckle rumbled from his chest as he fished out the box of condoms, “this is a big pack… were you planning on seducing me?”

Rolling your eyes, you giggled, “oh, shut up and get back here.”

As soon as he was back in your reach, your fingers began to fiddle with his belt, impatiently freeing him as you virtually drooled seeing the imprint of his cock strain against the dark fabric of his pants.

“Put it on, please, please, I wanna feel you so bad,” you begged as he ripped the foil packet open.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yes, please,” your hungry eyes were glued to his breath-taking fist as he offered himself a brief pump before he hastily rolled the condom on, “Matt, if you don’t fuck me right now then I’ll lose my fucking mind.”

Sighs flowed from the both of you in unison when Matt sank into your drooling cunt. You almost felt drunk, that’s how wound up you’d gotten.

“Oh, you feel so fucking good,” Matt exhaled, letting his forehead melt against your own as he rolled his hips, getting impossibly deep before drawing back a bit and finding a rhythm that caused your legs to be like crickets, shakily rubbing against either side of his frame as fucked you, “sweetheart–, christ… you’re about to cum, aren’t you?” his lips tilted up into a smirk.

“D-don’t you dare stop,” you panted, clawing needily against his torso.

“I won’t, I promise,” he then sank a hand down between your frames to tickle your puffy pearl, “I could do this all day, baby.”

You collapsed back on your elbows when your pussy fluttered around him and a lewd cry accompanied the high.

Panting against the cool table, you hazily blinked up at him as he then uttered in the deepest sincerity.

“God, I'm crazy about you, Y/n,” his expression was soft and dreamlike, “you know that?”

Your eyes went wide a moment, entirely forgetting how to fill your aching lungs, “really?” you then regained control rather gracelessly as you nearly coughed, “sorry... I forgot how to breathe for a second there,” the grin that bloomed on your lips nearly hurt.

Snatching one of your hands up in his, he weaved his fingers with your own, “you okay?”

“Yeah… I’m amazing…” you gazed up at him, “I’m also completely and utterly wild about you,” you then tugged on his hand, drawing him down enough for your lips to graze against his.

His hips instinctively rolled as your tongue flicked across his own, grinding briefly into your sensitivity before he noticed and went back to being completely still within you.

But when your sloppy kiss then parted, you tilted your own hips a bit, slowly fucking yourself shallowly on his cock. As he gently offered you a tender thrust, gradually pulling out of your clinging cunt just a tad, you glanced down between the shy space betwixt you and spotted the ring of your cream that stained the base of his dick.

“Fucking hell,” you whimpered as he straightened his spine back out and brought the back of your palm up to his lips, “I don’t get how I bounce back so quickly with you. It’s like you just have to smile and then I’m just–, oh my god!” you moaned as he changed his angle, brushing directly against a spot that sent a delicious shiver down your spine.

“Oh, you like that? Right there?” he repeated the same lavish motion.

“Y-yes–,” with your interlocked fingers, he then pulled you back up to a sitting position, the shift leaving you breathless, “fuck. You feel so good right now,” his hand let go of yours as it then snaked around your back, his burly forearm supporting your spine as the fingers reached up to weave within your hair, gently scraping his short nails over the nape of your neck.

Drawing you in even closer, your chest pressed against his as he kissed your cheek sweetly while he kept his pace meticulous and precise.

Hugging onto his broad shoulders, your head dropped down to rest against one of them as you then muttered, “harder,” your gaze hazy on the kitchen behind him before your eyes fluttered shut. When he then snapped his hips forward a little more electrically, you weakly repeated in his ear, “harder.”

Slamming into your needy cunt so fiercely that the sound of your skin colliding echoed off the tile walls and a bit of drool began to stain his dark shirt as your cheek stayed smooshed against his width.

“That it?” he growled silkily, “huh?” but when you couldn’t form any coherent words within the mess of moans that flowed from your lips, you didn’t have to see his face to know the grin that bloomed on his face, “aw, it’s alright, sweetheart,” his grip tightened in your hair, “you’re doing so good for me,” tugging intoxicatingly right at the roots, “just relax… that’s it… good girl…”

Keeping his pace rough, he lavishly slid out of you till just his bulbous tip plugged you up, before ramming his cock back in so feverishly that you could scarcely breathe at all, just tremble in his embrace, listening to the pure filth that he murmured in your ear, till you both tumbled over the edge.

With his spent girth nuzzled against your tender pussy, faint hums of contentment flowed from your lungs as Matt gently stroked your hair, his other arm wrapped around you as well as he kept your sluggish frame close to his long after you’d both regained your breaths.

As your fingers disappeared below his neckline and softly rubbed against the warm skin, your voice eventually found his ear, “okay, so I know that you didn’t come in here for a late-night snack,” the corners of your lips tilted upwards, “but now I’m kinda hungry.”

With a gentle chuckle rumbling within his chest, he briskly tugged himself away and untangled himself from you, “one second,” his lips pressed against your hairline before you saw him turn around and wander out of the kitchen.

As you watched him disappear into the front of the bakery, you tugged your panties back over your mess and pushed your dress back down, “oh, I'm not sure if there’s anything left out there–”

“Do you want a raisin bun or a very seedy one?” he asked and your brows flew up as you still hadn’t gotten used to how perceptive his heightened senses let him be.

“Oh, uhm,” you blinked, completely blown away, “raisin.”

Appearing before you once more, he handed you the speckled bun, “here.”

Smiling adoringly back at him, “thank you,” you sank your teeth into the pillowy treat before offering him a small bite, which he gladly accepted as a tender laugh rolled out of him. When you had consumed the sweet bun, a soft yawn promptly flowed out of you, “fuck,” his palms were warm at your waist as your arms briefly curled up beside your head, “I can’t wait to get back home and sleep.”

“How much do you have left to do till you can lock up?”

“Not too much,” your hands dropped back down and rested atop of his for a moment, “how about you? How long do you think you’ll be out there?”

“Probably not too much longer either,” his head tilted gently before he leaned back in.

“Alright,” you smiled, tenderly pressing your lips to his before he snatched up the discarded mask and tugged it back over his features. As his feet began to carry him towards the exit, he paused as soon as you said, “hey Matt?”

“Yeah?” the vigilante twisted back to face you.

A bubble of nerves suddenly fluttered in your belly as you uttered, “when you get back tonight, could you maybe–, uhm… or maybe I could–…”

Swiftly getting at what you were trying to convey, Matt simply marched right back to where you sat and pulled you in for a kiss. Cradling your cheeks a moment longer as he slowly pulled back, he smiled, “there’s a spare key to my place behind the radiator in the hallway.”

Gazing back at him, you uttered, “okay,” feeling like you were floating on a cloud.

“I'll try not to get home too late,” he breathed, pressing his lips to yours one last time before he backed up again.

Calling after him, “be safe!” he stopped on the threshold of the back door for a second, silhouetted by the dark city as he flashed you a grin before he disappeared into the night, leaving you in the bakery alone, feet dangling off the table as a bright smile tenaciously lit up your face.

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leviathanleva · 4 days

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Daisy

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Pairing: Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x Fem Reader

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Description: Cooper Howard was not a kind man, he cared for nobody, but himself. Then he found you, a lost little dove, barefoot and crying, torn dress and big innocent eyes staring at him like he was a hero. He knew you’d be a burden, he knew you couldn’t survive in the wasteland, he was doing you a favor.

But he couldn’t pull the fucking trigger...

[Graphic description of gore] 🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼🌼 Chapter 3 "The Vault"

The flickering ceiling lamps only exacerbated the grim atmosphere, but they did slightly help with finding your way. They also hid the majority of the massacre, but you weren’t blind to the horrific scenes of vault dwellers strewn up and skinned and prepared for processing. You’d wretched and convulsed at the sight, clutching at the wall for support and fighting back tears of terror, and if it hadn’t been for your empty stomach you would have most likely thrown up all over the ghoul’s boots. There was so much food around and the raiders still chose their twisted ways and treated the corpses of their victims, human beings, as cattle in need of rationing and preparation. It was engraved in them, you guessed, after living so long in an apocalyptic, hellish world, eating people was as natural to them as breathing. You tried to justify their actions even if they made no sense, but after seeing cut-open bellies and spilled intestines and dribbling blood as the corpses were hung to drain, you couldn’t.

No matter how difficult a life, nothing could pardon such barbaric actions, not when the cans of cram and sacks of tatoes were right there. The raiders didn’t kill and butcher out of need, they did it out of pleasure, they drew with blood on the walls, bludgeoned flesh and bone to a pulp, stripped skin bare, and let bodies dangle like slaughtered pigs.

The more gore was presented to you on a rusty platter, the smaller your pool of empathy became until there was nothing but the screaming aftermath of gunshots sounding right above your head. You still jittered, but didn’t flinch anymore, he had you, you were safe with him. His boots echoed with menace through the corridors, beckoning the raiders to their end, while your delicate bare feet glided over grime and glass and chaos.

He used you as bait once the raiders were close enough to spot you, your history with them causing a sudden urge in them to let go of their logic and self-preservation and charge headfirst into a shotgun barrel. You would have minded, but he was death incarnate with a weapon, and you were so set on restoring the sanctity of your vault, your home, that you were ready to do just about anything. He killed until there was nobody else with a heartbeat except you and him. He killed so casually, that you almost believed it to be normal.

Once his end of the bargain was done, you started searching, straining both mind and vision for that particular room with a false bookcase. You guided him past the vegetable field, through the cafeteria, and rushed past the school because there were too many bodies piled up for you to stomach. He followed with minor protests, but mostly kept quiet and alert, acting as a guard hound while you pursued the location of the emergency storage. It was only when you ended up in the residential wing with a confused noise that he spoke up.

“You’re lost, darlin’, admit it.”

You shot him an angsty look over your shoulder, arm outstretched in front of you as the white flashlight installed in the Pip-boy illuminated the vault hallway. When you enter the first home, just the structure of it is enough to tell that you’ve got the wrong place, you scowl, but trudge further inside anyway.

“I’m not lost.” you retort, refusing to let his remarks leave a stain on your photographic memory, and pace around the tiny complex. “It should be in this wing, I just need to find the right room.”

“Whatever you say…” he hums in mock and purses his lips, then opens the metal door wider before stepping in after you. He lets you explore, his eyes skimming with disinterest over the homey aesthetic he was so alienated from that it didn’t even ring a bell of nostalgia. His sights lock on the fridge and his feet react faster than he’d thought possible. Bingo.

The self-powered beacons perched over the whey field creep through the windows and it’s enough light to scarcely brighten the complex. It would have been a haunting sight if the ghoul wasn’t with you and a timid part of your consciousness tapped at you, reminding you that he wasn’t going to be present for much longer. You hadn’t planned on dwelling on such a thought for long, but you had no clue what to do once he was gone. Left alone to fend for your life with no skills or experience aside from dry theory accumulated from years of reading, there wasn’t much you could do except live off the remnants of the vault and try to keep the garden alive.

How would you be rid of all the corpses though?

It would take years to restore everything, or at least the parts that were salvageable, you’d never be able to swap the broken windows or replace the shattered light bulbs.

You scurried off the nasty reality of your future and proceeded to kneel in front of a shoe cabinet. Your feet were irritably sore and in desperate need of protection so you sunk your arms to the elbows in the darkness, the flashlight distorting under the pile of slippers and sandals.

“You’re not mad, mister?” you ask and turn back to find the ghoul waist-deep in the refrigerator, rummaging as a cacophony of clinking bottles and stuttering plates soundtrack his rampage. He looked almost domestic and you had to bite down on your bottom lip to keep from smiling. “Cuz I haven’t found the storage yet?”

He resurfaces at your question, a bowl of mashed tatoes and a platter of grilled cram cradled in his embrace, traces of soy milk stained his lips. He wiped his mouth on his shoulder and tossed the food on the kitchen counter before resting on his elbows while flicking his tongue.

“Plenty of Pip-boys layin’ around.” he shrugs simply and rips his glove off before sticking two thick fingers in the tatoes. “Can make a small fortune outta those.” he offers you a toothy grin before licking his fingers clean.

“Please use a fork, sir.” you grimace at his tasteless display before turning back to your task at hand.

“Mind your business, smooth-skin.” he grunts and sinks his teeth in a thick slice of cram, scarfing it down as if he’d not eaten in days. He scoffs at your faint giggle and waves you off, too high on the idea of a proper meal to care for your coquettish snip.

You continue to dig through the assortment of old shoes, relishing his vocal satisfaction as he feasts. He chews hastily, taking breaks every few bites to wash down the food with whatever juice or milk he blindly pawed at on the fridge door. After tossing away a pair of white fluffy slippers and jamming your hand against a leathery surface, you pull out a left-footed cargo boot. It’s stuck, tied by the laces to something crammed deeper in the cabinet and you feel your way until you find its twin. Once freed, you look them over with a tilted chin and a contemplative look.

They seemed remotely your size, with a pair of thick socks they’d probably fit perfectly and they were preserved and sturdy enough to withstand some broken glass.

“You think they’ll miss these?” you raise the boots in display and ask before thinking about how stupid your question was.

The boiled corn cob pauses just shy of his parted lips and he stares at you like you’d grown a second head. The silence that befalls is one of realization with a twinge of melancholy and you avert your eyes as your mouth twitches into a small frown. The shoes are lowered to your chest and you hold them close in wordless mourning, face dimming, shoulders lowering.

“Oh right…frick.”

“They’re dead, sweetheart.” he speaks softly, a hint of pity hidden beneath the layer of rasp. “Don’t think they’ll miss anythin’ anymore.”

In truth, you didn’t mourn the rest of the vault dwellers. They were strangers who’d shared the same living facility as you, there was no attachment there except for baseline human empathy. What you grieved over was your sanity, the solitude you’d be subjugated to and you’d grown accustomed to being alone, but after knowing the atrocities that had occurred and the reasoning for your lonesome existence, you doubted things would go well. You’d be forced to fend for yourself and there was no guarantee that another wave of intruders wouldn’t end up on your doorstep.

You picked at the soles of the boots absentmindedly, ignorant to the sympathetic stare targeting the back of your head.

You weren’t accustomed to caring for your needs, having been coercively babied all your life and lacking basic skills. The only bond you’d ever had was with your father and the knowledge that you’d eventually stumble upon his corpse riddled you in goosebumps. You dreaded that sight, eyes dampening at just the thought and mind failing to even picture such a sickening image.

You drag an arm over your drippy nose, sniffle and stand.

“Need socks.” was all you managed before hurrying to the bedside closet at the other end of the complex, hiding behind a wall and out of the ghoul’s prying gaze.

This was fine. You’d figure it out as you went. There was no point in worrying over things that haven’t happened yet, right?

You shone your flashlight into the closet's depths after flinging it open, searching for a ball of stretchy material, anything that remotely resembled a pair of socks. Shuffling came from the kitchen area, a throaty grunt, a few clanks, and the shattering of porcelain. Paying no mind to the ghoul’s ruckus, you sift through the clothing hangers, stopping only when an intricate floral pattern catches your eye. You tug at the cloth, pulling it off the bar and hooking a finger around the clothing hanger before straightening it out.

A dress, pretty and frilly at the bottom, littered with small hand-sewn red blooms, sparkling white and in pristine condition. It reminisced of better times when people reigned over a peaceful and bountiful land, when radiation existed only in the confines of nuclear factories and cannibalism was scarce and very taboo. Your dull expression softens with a doting smile as you coo over your new fit before tossing it on the bed.

Your search continues shortly after, rummaging and scanning, digging deeper until you find a small raft overflowing with undergarments. A pair of black tights and heavy woolen socks later, you pass an anxious glance at the edge of the wall separating you from your overly grumpy bodyguard before tugging the straps of your dress off your shoulders.

“What the hell are you doing in there!?”

“I’m changing!” you rush to answer, shimmying out of your dirty, torn attire before sitting on the edge of the bed and pulling the socks over your feet. After taking note of the now gooey gash on your ankle, you decide to postpone wearing tights until it’s been cleaned and bandaged. You swallow back a lump of anxiety and make disinfecting the wound your top priority…once you find the storage unit that is.

“Hurry up!”

Once the boots were secured, you neatly tied them up and scurried to slip on the new dress in case the ghoul decided he’d had enough of waiting and barged over in his typical unruly fashion. It fit you so well, but there was no time to enjoy yourself, you tossed the tights over the junction of your elbow and patted down the frilly edges grazing your knees.

The world came crashing when the zipper got stuck.

“Freaking fiddle sticks…”

You tried and failed to resolve the dilemma, patting blindly at your upper back, reaching over your shoulder, and coiling an arm behind your waist. Even when your fingers did manage to find the zipper again, it was jammed and no amount of vigorous tugging helped and you didn’t want to apply more force lest you cause a tear. A small whine, dainty and annoyed, bubbled in your throat and you hung your head back and stared up at the ceiling in despair. This had to be some sort of cruel joke, a jut at you for daring to find a sliver of happiness.

“Uh…mister?” you call out, weak with embarrassment as you slowly succumb to the walk of shame. You round the corner slowly, apprehension in every step and boring a shameful visage. “I need help…please.”

Your lovely bounty hunter had sprawled out on the counter, his hands resting on his now full belly, one perched up knee swaying nonchalantly as his other leg kicked dangled leisurely in the air. His hat rested over his face, obscuring his vision as he breathed slowly, in utter bliss for the first time in a long while. The shotgun once secured on his back was tucked under his neck. The empty plates were carelessly chucked to the floor when he’d made room to lie down and now you knew what all that ruckus had been caused by.

It would have been quite the heartwarming sight if you weren’t currently wallowing in self-pity.

He rouses at your beckon, sitting up and readjusting his hat and giving you his best acid scowl for disrupting his peace. Then he notices your pained expression and skittish shifting and quirks a nonexistent brow.

“The hell’d you do?”

Ah yes, the sardonic question a parent would ask their misbehaved child after yet another minor disaster. That’s exactly what you need at the moment.

“I – ” your teeth grit, jaw tightening in discomfort. A sad puppy-eyed stare plastered on your droopy features as you stand next to the counter before reluctantly turning around and brushing your hair out of the way to expose your back. “ – It’s stuck…”

A snort of laughter fills the dim complex and you shrink in utter humiliation, fussing at his reaction like the wimpy thing you’ve been demoted to. He turns in his spot and his knees encase your frame as he slopes closer.

“Can’t even dress right.” his berating smirk nips at the back of your neck and earns a sigh of defeat.

Cooper Howard wasn’t a man to regret many things and he’d done enough awful deeds to have him kicked out of a church if he ever dared set foot in one. Not putting his glove back on, however, would be one of those regrets. When his disfigured fingers dipped beneath the hem of your dress to hold it steady as he worked the zipper free, he brushed against your skin and it was so soft that he nearly missed the feeling altogether. A pang of something awfully warm wrapped around his ribcage like a vine and he was so shaken to the core that he forgot he needed to breathe.

You felt like the past, all lovely and nice and tender, as if ripped from a time he struggled to recollect and let go of both, and you were thrust in his hands and he didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to do with you. All charming smiles and sugary words and naivety that had him torn between hatred and incessant thirst for more of whatever it was you did to him. So addictive yet so detrimental.

He chalked it up to lust, a guttural craving any normal man would feel when presented with a cute little thing like you. But it wasn’t that at all. It had nothing to do with any carnal human craving.

You were a gateway to what he used to have, a walking memory of who he used to be.

It made sense if your story was true. Being tended to all your life while locked in a lab orchestrated to be your private room, it would leave anyone silk-skinned, bright-minded, and burden-free. But that didn’t ease him, it didn’t falter him from feeling like he was drowning.

You were the even tune of midnight jazz, a slice of hot apple pie, and a fresh cup of Joe on a Sunday afternoon; a little piece of heaven he’d never asked for and a cruel incarnation of damnation he’d always feared would catch up to him.

“Is it fixed?” you peep, saving him from the jaws of his mind, and look back, happily unaware of his self-destructive internal dialogue. The darkness hides the strain hovering over his distant gaze. “Did you manage?”

“ ‘Course I did.” he barks and is back to normal in an instant, pulling the zipper up before letting you go. “Done.”

He makes sure to secure his glove back on and cusses out the invasive thoughts.

“Thank you so much!” you grin with glee and throttle away like a victorious toddler. “How do I look?” you twirl with pizazz, then remember the tights dangling off your arm and bunch them up in one hand in case they took away from your dashing performance. “Don’t mind those.”

The ghoul scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief at how stupidly charming you are, and slides from the counter before reaching for his shotgun. You take his reaction as a good sign, satisfied with your new, clean look, and brush down the dress with the back of your hand.

“Les go.” he clicks his tongue at you, motioning with his head before fiddling to load his weapon. “Can gawk at yourself plenty when I’m gone.”

His remark receives no pushback. You follow suit, back into the benevolent corridor with hanging dead lamps, stepping carefully next to him with Pip-boy pointed straight ahead. It felt good to not have to constantly worry over a stray piece of debris catching on your feet anymore. Now your footsteps sang in tandem with your bounty hunter’s albeit much lighter and more frequent. With eyes darting from wall to wall, you peeked into each adjacent living complex. The sting in your ankle continued, snapping at your every move and your grip on the tights hardened. Your nails sank into the material for purchase as impatience nibbled at your nerves.

Apartment after apartment. Nothing even remotely resembled the room you were looking for, but it had to be here somewhere. The vault plans didn’t lie and neither did your memory.

You nearly tripped over a stray cable while ogling a bright pink suite layered with fuzzy rugs.

“You sure you ain’t just sendin’ us on a wild goose chase?” the ghoul asks while cracking open another steel door for you to inspect, then dips his hat and lilts “Ain’t gonna shoot you, sweetheart. Don’t need to lie anymore.”

“I wasn’t lying, mister.” you look up at him with hurt and he keens, blinking slowly at you and deciding to leave it at that.

Whether it was due to exhaustion or that look, he wasn’t sure.

If you were this set on proving to him there was a storage full of medical supplies and provisions he wasn’t going to stop you. There was plenty of food and drink to stay a while and his current bounty wasn’t notorious enough to top a fresh bed and a full meal. The caps weren’t worth it compared to what you’d offered him and he had enough vials to last him a while before any feral symptoms started poking through.

“It’s somewhere here, I know it is, these are just the wrong rooms. But the map showed it was in the living quarters to the north. It has to be a bigger space and with a bookcase in – ”

A hand clasped gently over your mouth, cutting your ramble short.

The ghoul grips your arm and shines the Pip-boy at the end of the hallway, the tense look on his face making your stomach knot. He takes one step forward, leaving you to linger behind him and you would’ve liked to believe it was to protect you, but it was most likely to get you out of the way.

You hear his gloved hold tighten around his shotgun and bite back the need to ask him what he’d picked up that you hadn’t. You never noticed the almost silent steps that had slowly crept closer and yelped when you were roughly tossed behind him as he spun around. The shot nearly left you deaf and the bloodied kukri barely missed your shoulder, having been a hair away from the strap of your dress.

You shriek along with the gargled gasp, latching onto the bounty hunter’s coat. The loud thump that followed made you duck and wrinkle your nose.

“Oh my jeez. Oh my God!” you glimpse from behind him reluctantly, forcing your tightly shut eyes open.

The raider twitched, clutching his blown-to-bits shoulder as a puddle of blood formed beneath him. He choked for air, coughing out a storm of crimson and it made your knees weak. The smell of gunpowder was sharp and overwhelming and your head spun with a nauseating speed.

“Guess I missed one.” the bounty hunter leers and the absolute insouciance at his actions sent a chill up your spine. He unclasps the hunting knife strapped to his belt and twirls it between his fingers, then tosses you a warning glance. “Look away, sweetheart. Ain’t wastin’ another bullet on this shit.”

The heels of his boots clinked closer to the raider convulsing on the floor and with a shaky sniffle, you forced your legs to move. The pleas of a desperate man rendered defenseless and feeble, the churring taunts of his merciless killer who squatted over his prey with blade readied. A sickening noise punched you right in the gut, so raw and revolting that you covered your ears the moment you stumbled into another suite and slid down behind the front door. Clutching at the sides of your head, fingers curled and nails delved into your scalp to ground you, you died a little inside.

The reality of your existence, the consequences for being alive hit you full force, ripping you out of the tranquility that had befallen both you and the ghoul. Peace never lasted, and neither did joy, not in a world bathed in chaos and destruction.

The two curt knocks on the door made you flinch.

“Come on out, scaredy cat.”

“I’ll – ” with a twisted tongue and a clenched throat, you murmur out words to keep him away because you didn’t want to see the blood he was wiping off his knife. “ – I’ll be right there. Just looking…for a false latch or something.”

What a horrible excuse…but he didn’t question it and you were so thankful.

His steps crinkle over broken glass and pieces of discarded metal plates. The tension lifts off your shoulders when he leaves with a grunt. You rub at your face with a timid breath, jaw easing as your lips part to accommodate your forceful inhales. The gloom of the apartment embraced you in your self-indulgent grovel.

To imagine someone lived here only a day ago was to concede to hysteria.

He saved your life again. And still, you were left shaken and bothered and speechless and burdened by what would have happened if he hadn’t been there to rip you away from death’s claws. The possibility of there being more raiders skulking about hadn’t been a thing until this one nearly chopped your arm off. Your arm was still there though, intact and function. All because of him. A dilapidated, volatile guardian angel that looked like a grilled chicken and sounded like a fizzled-out radio station and he meant more to you than anything ever had in your short, secluded life. What were you supposed to do without him when he finally left and you were sealed into a blood-soaked, corpse-ridden underground bunker with just your thoughts as company?

You slapped at your puffed-out cheeks ferociously.

This was fine.

It wasn’t fine, but there was nothing to be done, you’d work with what you had, you’d manage somehow. You had to.

The ghoul whistled you over, loud and clear enough for you to hear even while tucked away safely in your corner. Enough spiraling. You stood and with a determined huff, exited the complex only to see him standing in front of an open door with crossed arms and a tilted head. He noticed you from the corner of his eye and nudged his chin.

“This it?”

You poke your nose inside the spacious room.

It was the vault president’s office, completely untouched and eerily still, made to resemble the quarters of high-ranking officials from the olden days. Thin sheets of wood were plastered over the walls and the floor was carpeted and clean, the large windows overlooked the fields and dining area. An elegant leather chair was neatly set behind the paper-ridden desk in the center of the room, and yellowing files peak from every single drawer and bookcase. Everything seemed organized in spotless order, even the mugs on the coffee table were arranged corresponding to their color. There were so many paintings strewn about, past vault presidents, men and women in distinct white coats, same as the one your dad had always worn, supposedly scientists.

He leaned against the doorframe as you barged inside, watching your newfound zeal with a half-smile.

You pressed the tip of your middle finger to the wall and slowly extended your other arm at a precise angle, then moved it barely to the left. With a calculative spark imbued in your eyes, you take deliberate steps and move your stiff arms mechanically as you work out the location of the hidden storage. It looked ridiculous and you were well aware as you maneuvered about like a possessed puppet, but without any tools to point the way this was your only crutch.

“Three feet to the left, diagonal to the glass case with the cat sculpture. One step back and turn to what should be west. North should be to the right, then. And…”

“There.” you state once your hand points at a particularly overdecorated bookcase. “That’s it. Has to be.” you step towards it with determination, throwing away documents and an old plastic globe until there was enough space to grab at the shelves. It creaks when you give it a solid tug to test its stability. You bite your lip in contemplation before turning back to the ghoul. “Think you can move this, mister?”

“You better be right, sweetheart.” he tutted, but complied, pushing himself off the doorframe before joining you. He towers over you and rests his hands against the polished wood. “Move.”

You did as told and gave him some room.

He managed to slide his fingers against the back of the bookcase and spread out his legs before letting go of a throaty groan and pulling with all his strength. Your knee jittered with the need to step in and help, but you hesitated, succumbing to your manners and letting him do the heavy lifting. The last thing you wanted was to insult his capabilities or hurt his man-pride.

The case toppled with a thunderous crash and its contents spilled over the carpet, some trinkets bounced off your boot and rolled under the desk. The wooden planks that had been hidden behind it were slightly caved in compared to the rest. A thick carving resembling a door was engraved in them along with a small rectangular shape just a few inches to the side.

This was it.

“Hallelujah.” he chuckles and kneads his shoulder while flexing it, brows raised and eyes settled on the hidden entrance and glistening with wonder. “Guess you weren’t lyin’ after all.”

You clumsily step over the mountain of books and smashed wood, arms extended for balance until you’re close enough to press down on the rectangle. With a whirling hiss, the wood slides to the side and a hole perfectly shaped like a Pip-boy appears. You stuck your hand in without a second thought, beyond impatient and on the verge of crying because your ankle was burning so intensely you wanted to just rip it off.

The door gave way with a few audible clicks and the storage lit up instantly, you guessed the lamps didn’t depend on the vault’s fusion cores, another little trickery to keep this place hidden. The power management engineers would have most likely noticed the excess electricity being used for a room that wasn’t supposed to exist. A smart move and also for nothing, everyone was dead.

The cynic in you cackled.

You were quick to rip your hand free and enter, spotting the hefty array of medical supplies gathered over a metal cart, driven by pain and discomfort and lacking the self-control to keep it a secret any longer.

“Well, I’ll be…” the ghoul gapes at the overflowing storage, pleasantly surprised and nodding to himself. “Consider your debt repaid, missy.” he plunges his knife into a sack of tatoes and promptly empties it.

His arm swipes over a metal shelf of stimpaks, greedily bunching them up and into the sack as he licks his teeth at the upcoming profit.

When you don’t reply to his remark he finally takes his gaze off the mounds of supplies and medicine and looks to you.

You’re a mussing mess, abrupt jitters causing bottles of pills and packages of bandages to pile at your feet as you scour for something specific. Initially, he opts to leave you be and focus on his own task, but when a disheartened noise slips past you he caves.

“The hell’s got you scramblin’ about like a cornered rat?”

You wince and turn back with a trembling frown. Your search had come out fruitless, the plan was spoiled at the absence of any antibiotics and you internally cursed for not stopping by the med-bay earlier and checking there first. Then again, you needed a key card and you weren’t fond of checking the pockets of decapitated vault residents just for that. But your open wound didn’t care for your antics. Now your ankle was probably red, still oozing and by how it rubbed against your sock, it was even more irritated and sickeningly sticky.

His stern look was relentless and you sucked in a breath before speaking.

“I can’t find any antibiotics…for my ankle.” you swallow a sob like a child caught red-handed trying to sneak past a broken vase. “The cockroaches – One of them bit me or cut me I think and… And it was fine at first, but then it started getting infected and I thought I’d find something here to help, but I don’t think only spirit will help so I thought antibiotics, but I can’t find any and it hurts so bad now – ”

You halted when his jaw stiffed and did nothing when he stomped close enough for you to feel the heat radiating off him. The sack was slumped by you and as he glared you simply averted your eyes to the floor.

“Sit.” he commands in a rigid tone, forcing you on your rump as the coldness of the tile floor seeps through your dress. “ ‘N take it off.” the tip of his boot nudges your foot before he tugs his pants up and squats in front of you with elbows resting on his thighs.

It’s only after you slip off your now-ruined sock that he cringes in annoyance and grabs your calf to turn it for a better view. Angry red outlined the open gash and the dead skin that still clung to it was soaked in colorless stickiness. He pressed on the side of the wound, shooting down your attempt at escaping with a scalding look, and more goo was excreted.

Radroaches were clean creatures, he’d seen them grooming themselves more than hunting for food. However, being mutated by radiation did tend to add some spice to their bites and you trudging around barefoot for a good full day had only added to the accelerated decay. Nasty little cut that was.

“Stupid git.” he hisses and stuffs a hand in the sack. “Nothen’ a lil stimpak can’t fix though. And lucky for you, we hit a goldmine.” the large syringe glints under the blaring white lights and he pushes at the base to snuff out any air bubbles before lowering it to your calf. “Now hold still.”

The sight of the needle makes you stiffen, a plethora of memories flashing past your widened eyes, and you’re overtaken by such a raw desire to get away that you nearly kick him off balance in your struggle.

Too many years stuffed full of constant medications and transfusions and scalpels and cuts and taking blood samples and fucking needles. All your life you’d suffered through nothing but medical treatments and the first day spent away from such hell had you realized just how traumatizing it had all been. Obligated to just take it because there was no alternative, you were never given a choice in the matter. You weren’t ready for this again, seeing that stupid needle so close to your skin made your heart drop in your stomach.

“Wait. Mister, wait. Wait!” you grab onto the metal bars of the cart as his grip on your calf tightens painfully.

“Quit fussin’!” he all but growls and pulls you back in place once you’d made some progress in slipping away. His tolerance for your display vaporizes when you land another inadvertent kick to his knee. He lets your calf go and reaches for the back of your head, grabbing onto a fistful of your hair and jostling you still. He’s right in your face and spitting acid. “What the hell’s wrong with you?!”

“The needle.” you hiccup and wrap your sweet little fingers around his forearm. Tears swell in your eyes from both pain and fear and it does something to him again, but he doesn’t relent. “The needle…I can’t – ” you whimper and plead, crumbling in his hold. “Please don’t, mister…”

He’s taken aback. The menace drains from his gaunt features, baring snarl gone, and his grip on your hair loosens.

“You’re kiddin’ me.” his eyes roll from you to the stimpak as if you’d said the most mind-blowing bullshit he’d ever heard. He dangles the wretched thing in front of you, watching you follow it incessantly, not even blinking. “You’re scared o’ this?”

You make a noise of displeasure and avert your face when he brings the stimpak closer. For once his mocking laugh isn’t welcomed. When he’s assured you’re not just being a brat and actually hold a crippling distaste for the needle, the ghoul pulls away with a scoff.

He thinks, rubbing his knuckles against his jaw while you sit between his knees, immobilized by his grip.

“Well shit...” he lets you go and you bonelessly slump back into the cart.

He’s not one for comfort, doesn’t know what words to use to help you overcome your dilemma; he can’t just jam the stimpak in and risk striking a bone, can’t slide it in gently because you’ll go into another fit. He could just leave…

“Look at me.” he beckoned and snapped his fingers at you. When that didn’t work, he grabbed your face and squished your cheeks, forcing you to obey by giving you a sharp jerk. He leans close enough for you to feel his breath hit your nostrils and of course, it smells like cram. “I said look. At. Me.”

Your eyes go from dazed to bulging when you feel the needle press back against your calf. A pathetic ensemble of bleats accompanies your heaving chest and you hold onto his wrist like it’s the only thing keeping you from dying on the spot.

“Shhhh – shhhh – shhh, ‘s okay sweetheart.” he hushes you with peculiar softness, stifling your meek complaints and scolding your eyes back to his own when he sees your attention dart down to your leg. You wince briefly at the prickle and his pinkie and ring finger leave your cheek and settle at the edge of your jaw, pressing down and rubbing ever so lightly. With an even push of his thumb, the syringe is emptied. “There you go…” he gives your cheek a good pat and leans away, resting on his knees. The pack of gauze you’d carelessly tossed away in your rampage was picked up and ripped open. “The good news is, you don’t need no stitches…but how d’ you intend to survive if you can’t even use a stimpak?”

“I’ll…” you smile in pain and it’s so crooked it rivals his. “I’ll figure it out.”

Chapter 4 >>>

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Tag list: @bountydroid @judgementdays-girl

#cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #fallout tv series #the ghoul fanfic #the ghoul x you #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul fallout #x reader #fallout the ghoul #fallout show #the ghoul

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msschemmenti · 1 year

Text

To Be Near You

Melissa Schemmenti x reader

Prompt: Ava decided to do some staff bonding (and content gathering) and forces the teachers to have a sleepover in the school. Melissa and the reader are in a secret established relationship and get caught together.

a/n: this idea came to me before bed yesterday because I was thinking about what barbara howard would wear to sleep

“Maybe I should go get my air mattress out of my storage unit. I don’t really wanna sleep on my rug.” Y/n mumbled as she dropped onto the plastic-covered couch next to Melissa. The TV was playing some game and it currently had all of the older woman’s attention. It was a Thursday and Y/n honestly couldn’t keep up with what sport Melissa watched on Thursdays but she was really only there for the company.

Melissa shifted as the words Y/n uttered finally broke through her focus. “Barb and Gerald are letting me borrow their spare, you won’t need yours.”

Y/n eyed the woman curiously, trying to figure out if she’d missed something within the past 6 months that would make Melissa’s response a logical solution to her problem. “Mel darling, you do understand what a lock-in is right?”

Ava’s latest fixation has been on team bonding (apparently that’s where the money is this week). And she had the brilliant idea to have the teachers spend a night in Abbott. Obviously, no one wanted to do that, but after a few threats and incentives, the woman rallied enough teachers to participate. Everyone had discussed their sleeping plans earlier over lunch and had established that they’d all be sleeping in their own classrooms, much to Janine’s dismay. Y/n couldn’t help but feel bad for the woman as she tried to convince everyone to set up their sleeping bags in the gym for an actual sleepover. She’d been shot down faster than Y/n’d ever seen before. Between Barb and Melissa, there was no chance in hell either of the women would be participating more than necessary.

“Of course, I know what a lock-in is. What’s the issue? You haven’t ever complained about sharing a bed before now.” Melissa grumbled turning to face Y/n as the game came to an end.

“And I’m not complaining now. I just must have missed the part where you told our co-workers you were banging the new fifth grade teacher.” Y/n replied wiggling her eyebrows suggestively.

“I think I’m doing more than banging you,” Melissa wiggled her brows back causing Y/n to blush in the truth of the tease.

“Even if that is true, how do you plan to explain me sleeping in your classroom to anyone without outing us?”

Melissa shrugged, “I think you’re giving them all too much credit. It’ll be fine. Once everyone retires to their own classrooms, you can just come down to my room. By morning everyone will just be worried about getting out of there so the sneaking out won’t be an issue. Piece of cake.”

“Says you, you’re not doing any of the sneaking.” Y/n rolled her eyes, she’d do anything for Melissa so her complaints were only for show. “But alright, that crosses at least one thing off of my list of things I need to pack tonight when I leave here.”

“I’ll just take my stuff we can stay at your place.” Melissa said rising from the couch to go collect her things. “Give me like 20 mins and we can leave.” Y/n went to tell Melissa it wasn’t necessary but she was already gathering all of her things to tag along. As she watched the older woman buzz around the house readying for their own little sleepover she couldn’t help but to smile at how readily Melissa was to come home with her.

“This might’ve been Ava’s best idea yet.” Janine grinned as everyone gathered in the teacher’s lounge to wait for Ava to bring dinner. “I already feel so much closer to you guys. You know I’d actually feel even closer if we all put our sleeping bags in the-”

“Shut up Janine, dinner is served.” Ava said as she hip-checked Janine out of the doorway carrying a box of takeout orders. She brought the box to the table in front of the couch and quickly grabbed her things, “Back you filthy animals. Everyone’s orders should have their name on it.”

Y/n rose from her seat at the table by the wall and waded through the throng of teachers to retrieve her meal. Sliding under someone’s arm she was able to get her box but saw both Barb’s and Melissa’s still sitting there. Without much thought, she grabbed them both and ducked back out of the crowd and headed for their table. She slid the boxes to each woman with a smile and turned to head back for her seat at the other table. Before she could get too far, Melissa’s hand reached for her wrist and pulled her back. “Thanks hon, why don’t you eat with us?”

Y/n eyed Melissa hesitantly, they normally kept their in school interaction to a minimum and Y/n hardly ever sat near Melissa for to long. They’d learned that one of them had a hard time keeping her hands to herself. So the invitation was like playing with fire, especially if Y/n was meant to sneak into Melissa’s classroom to cuddle later that night. She gazed at Barb briefly before letting her eyes fall onto Melissa again and seeing the silent plea behind her eyes.

“We won’t bite sweetheart.” Barb smiled as she hit Melissa’s shoulder in a sort of scold for still holding onto Y/n’s wrist. Y/n nodded and moved to have a seat and when Barbara returned her attention to her food she shot Melissa a warning glare, nonverbally telling her to behave. The redhead grinned mischieviously and nodded. “How was your day Y/n? I didn’t see you at lunch.” Barbara asked making polite conversation like the Godly woman she is.

“Oh it was okay, I left something at home so I ran back to get it before I had to pick the kids up. How about you?” Y/n replied gazing toward the woman kindly. That morning Melissa had been on her ass about bringing her sleeping bag and she’d planned to slide it in the car without her noticing but they’d practically been joined at the hip since they’d made it to the apartment the night before. After leaving it at home, she went back to grab it and tucked it in her classroom for the day. Of course she wouldn’t be using it, but it would be nice to have some sort of cover if anyone was to look in on her that night. Melissa didn’t see it that way, but it would come in handy this evening.

“Well I woke up this morning, so I can’t complain. But I know I’ll be complaining tomorrow after sleeping on an Air Mattress.” Barbara groaned.

“Oh I know what you mean, I’ll be lucky if I can move my back after sleeping in my sleeping bag. I’m not sure this was the best idea after all.”

“Exactly, forgive me but I do not want to see any of your faces after 3:30-” As Barbara talked Y/n startled at the feeling of a hand inching up her thigh underneath the table. She kept her gaze on Barbara but her nods in agreement became more aggressive as she tried to listen. She didn’t even have to turn to know that Melissa was sporting a proud smirk as she tease her girlfriend. Y/n knew it was around the time they were alone and free to be themselves, but the location was not ideal for this kind of teasing especially if Melissa wanted to keep their secret. “But I’ll be glad when morning comes. I just hope Gerald can make it through the night. He always says he sleeps better when I’m there. He’ll probably be wide awake tonight.”

Y/n swatted Melissa’s hand away under the table as discreetly as possible before pouting at Barbara’s words, “That’s so romantic. I guess that makes sense though, especially since you’ve been married for so long. I hope someone feels that way about me someday.”

“I’m sure they will hon.” Melissa said finally adding something to the conversation. Y/n let her eyes fall to the red-head and tried fight the hopeful look that she knew was on her face. Melissa winked quickly and then both women turned back to their dinner.

Mel <3: Coast is clear. Everyone is asleep.

With a pillow under her arm, Y/n made her great escape through the halls of the school. She was only going down one set of stair, but she’d have to tip-toe her way passed Janine’s classroom and that would be the ultimate test of her spy skills. Once she made it down the stairs she could see Melissa peaking out of her door, looking down each side of the hallway. When their eyes met, she threw her head back in a ‘come on’ motion and reached toward Y/n making grabbing motions.

Once in the safety of the classroom Melissa seemed to pounce on the younger woman. Their lips met languidly, dancing an all too familiar dance, before they finally broke apart when air became a necessity. “God, I’ve been waiting to do that all day. We’re never doing this again.” Melissa groaned before pulling Y/n toward the airmattress in the corner of the room.

“Can’t argue with that. I’m gonna set an alarm to head back to my room at 7. I figure, no one will be up by then.”

“Set it for 8. I don’t want to wake up before 8.”

“Well baby, I’ll just be quiet. You don’t have to get up with me.” Y/n said nestling into the air mattress and Melissa’s side.

“I know I don’t have to but if you get up, I will. It’s already hard enough falling asleep the first time. If you leave I’ll never get back to sleep, even if it is for just an hour.” Melissa confessed quietly as she pulled Y/n closer.

“Are you saying you have a hard time sleeping without me? Because that would explain a lot, but also be so romantic.” Y/n asked with a slight tease in her voice.

“I just like being near you. I feel…I don’t know. At peace or something.” Melissa said bashfully.

“Well, I like being near you too. So I guess we both win, hm?”

“I guess you’re right.”

“I’ll set my alarm for 8. Now let’s get some sort of sleep on this thing.”

“Alright, goodnight hon.” Melissa said placing a kiss on Y/n’s hair.

“G’night Mel.” Y/n whispered, closing her eyes in bliss.

Morning came and Melissa had been right, everyone was really was just trying to get out of the building as quickly as possible. The couple had shifted position a little but were still tangled in each others arms. With Y/n’s alarm vibrating away on the floor of the classroom, the women continued to sleep in ignorant bliss. As the other teachers escaped the school for the weekend, Barbara stood outside of her best friend’s classroom hoping to catch her before she left. She figured she could get the air mattress back now to solve that problem and figured her friend would be awake by now. She opened the door and entered as she normally did, but came to a stop as she saw the two bodies tangled together on the bed. The shock didn’t last long before the smile took over at the sight of the two. Despite being on an air mattress in the middle of a classroom, both women seemed to be as comfortable as comfort could get. Y/n’s mouth wide open, a bit of drool hanging from her chin. Melissa’s arms wrapped tightly around the younger woman, as if to keep her from falling off of the bed. This was a couple that was comfortable with each other and that loved each other deeply and Barbara could see it all now.

Making her way to the side of the bed, she picked up the vibrating phone and stopped the alarm. With great displeasure she reached down to shake her friend awake gently. As Melissa’s eyes creeked open, her gaze first fell to Y/n. She seemed to mentally and physically check to make sure she was alright before she let her eyes wander the room. They quickly landed on Barb and her cheeks flamed as bright as her hair.

“Good morning.” Barbara smiled down at the woman.

“Morning.” Melissa answered sheepishly. She waited for Barbara admonishment or warning, but it never came. The woman smiled softly before nodding down to the mattress.

“I’m heading home, but you can just give the mattress to me Monday. I’ll tell everyone you’ve already left on my way out.”

Melissa nodded gratefully before watching the older woman head for the door. Barbara paused before leaving turning back to Melissa, “I’m expecting a call sometime before then to hear about all of this.”

“I’d expect nothing less. I’ll call you tonight.” Melissa promised, causing Barbara to nod with a grin before heading out of the school.

It wasn’t long before the snoozed alarm went off again and Y/n stirred away, as her eyes adjusted to the sun peaking through the windows she looked up at Melissa with a lazy smile. “What are you doing up? What time is it?”

“After 8 and Barb knows.” Melissa shrugged snuggling further into the covers now that they had a bit of downtime before they had to get up.

“Well, better her than Janine.” Y/n said following Melissa back to comfort.

“Yes, anyone would be better than Janine.” Melissa agreed with a smile placing a goodmorning kiss to Y/n’s forehead. “Good morning.”

“A good morning indeed.” Y/n smiled leaning up to plant a kiss of her own on Melissa’s waiting lips.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #abbott elementary x reader #abbott elementary #melissa schemmenti #lisa ann walter x reader #lisa ann walter #barbara x melissa #barbara howard #msschemmenti

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cissyenthusiast010155 · 1 year

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Mommy’s Little Scientist~ Peggy Carter xFem Reader

Peggy fic of reader working with stark and meeting peg in like Cali or something Scientist through Stark, Cali?

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, fingering, implied sex, mommy kink, praise kink, implied degradation kink, implied chocking kink 😏, age gap (all legal), Peggy Carter being a goddess

Idk exact length; long but not massive

Enjoy (;

You had started working with Howard Stark because he was said to be the smartest man of the century, and you needed the completion as no one could keep up with your level of thinking. However, you very quickly found out that while Howard was a genius, he was also a horny dumbass. He just couldn’t help himself.

And so when he first met you, a female scientist, all he could talk about was bedding you. And it was exhausting. Eventually you caved and told Howard that you were a lesbian (at first scared because of how ostracized you could be for that) but it surprisingly worked. Although now you had to deal with scissoring jokes on the regular, but hey, it was better than before.

You also quickly realized how harmless Howard was, at least his intentions. So, you two worked quite well together. Aside from him offering you second rounds on his daily flow of women, everything ran quite well.

You were currently single because dating women as a woman was a no go in society but also in the scientific community, you could lose all the hard earned credit which you had accumulated. But that didn’t stop Howard. He was constantly going on about how “You just need to get laid” and “C’mon I know some girls who are into that kinda stuf”, but you simply declined. Every time.

To be honest, watching Howard’s very active sex life, made you a bit jealous. You found yourself more needy and desperate than usual (desperate enough to fuck yourself in his bathroom on multiple occasions, because you were so pent up).

It’s possible that Howard picked up on that, because even though you liked women, Howard was quite in tune with women. This led to Howard trying to set you up with even more women, for gods sake.

One particular morning as you were re-reading your book on quantum mechanics, Howard came in to the lab with his face lit up: “I’ve done it! I’ve found you the perfect woman, my les-bean!” And yes, that was his nickname for you… You looked up at him in disbelief “Oh really?”. “Yep!” He continued “Your gonna love her, she’s right up your alley!” You chuckled, “And what makes you say that?” And he just smirked, “You’ll see”. Now this left you intrigued… Who was this mystery woman who would be “right up my alley”?

And that’s when Agent Peggy Carter walked into the lab with Jarvis by her side. “Miss. Carter, Miss. L/N; Miss L/N, Miss. Carter” Jarvis stated. “Oh Jarvis, go grab some more viles from storage, will ya?” Howard butted in “We’re almost out”. Howard’s words slipped over your brain as your eyes met Peggys. She was gorgeous. But this was THE Agent Peggy Carter… She didn’t like women, did she?

“Right, I’ll leave you two to get to know each other” Howard mischievously exclaimed and then he just left the lab, closing the door on his way out. You heard a click… That bastard had locked the door! Peggy had noticed it as well and interjected before you got the chance “Howard! This is not funny, open the door at once!” She sternly yelled. “Nope!” Howard exclaimed “Not until you both work out your own sexual tensions! C’Mon, you both could use a good fucking for gods sake!”

You looked at Peggy in disbelief. She looked back, rolling her eyes at what you assumed was Howard. “What does that mean, Howard?!” She asked. There was no response. You huffed. Howard was kinda right though… But this was nooo way to solve your own sexual dilemma. Especially not with Captain Americas really hot bay… So you just said the first thing that came to mind, “I didn’t know you were into girls”. She chuckled and hummed, “After Steve, I found that no man could meet my standards, so I tried the other team”. She elegantly spoke, although you sensed some hesitation on the “Steve” topic. “I see”, was all you could manage.

In all fairness, Peggy was really fine. You could understand why any man or woman would want her. Everything from her hips, to her lips, speech, hair, and overall confidence screamed incredibly attractive. “What about you?” She interjected your tunneling thoughts, “How did YOU end up locked in Howard’s lab, and not in his his bed” she chuckled. “I work with him. I’m a biochemist. Sure, he tried to bed me many times, but once he found out I was a lesbian, he switched to trying to set me up with all the other potentially gay women he could find” you chuckled. Peggy chuckled back, “That’s Howard, all right”. You looked at her and she looked back. And you both just sat in silence for a while.

“So…” Peggy started, “if we’re stuck here for who knows how long, maybe we could just get to know each other?” You agreed as there was basically nothing better to do, as Captain Americas bay would NEVER fuck you… “Um sure” you replied “What do you want to know?”. She laughed God, was her laugh intoxicating… “I assumed you would have many questions for me, many usually do; but sure, let’s start with you. Hmm…” she took a second to think “How did you realize you were attracted to women?” You blushed a bit as you began to give an answer “Well, I never had a great relationship with my mother I suppose… And when I started looking to date, I never felt attracted to age appropriate men quite like women… y’know?”

Peggy stifled a snicker and just smirked in response. Shit. You had basically just confessed to having mommy issue in front of Peggy fucking Carter. Who was at least a good decade and a half older than you.

“What about you?” You quickly deflected, hoping to save yourself from any more blushing and kink confessions. “I basically summed it up earlier, after Steve, most men couldn’t cut it for me.” She continued, “Howard said we both had pent up sexual tension. I mean, I understand me, but Why did he say that about you?” Now you were ales most chocking on the oxygen in your throat from surprise. “Uh… I think he just doesn’t like the fact that I’m never seen with anyone else, while he’s with a new girl every hour or so.” You half way Lied your way through that one. It was embarrassing for you to mention not having had any sexual pleasure from another since your studies. It had been a while. That was the true answer. Peggy responded while you were in your thoughts, “For me, I think Howard just wants me to get laid. I haven’t had a good fucking besides my own hand in so long.” Damn was she straightforward… You wish you could just say that. “Yea, I guess that’s part of it for me as well” you managed to get out, feeling back for not being completely honest for some reason. “When was your last time?” Peggy inquired. And this one truly got you. You blushed hard. You choked on your own air. Your eyes widened. You answered with a strain “a long time… since my studies..” you reluctantly answered, yet you felt safe to get that off your chest. Peggy chuckled, “Mine was during the war. Not as long as you, but a few years is certainly long enough.” “It certainly it” you agreed with her, glancing at her luscious lips for a second. Shit. Was Howard right? Would this actually work?

“What if Howard was right?” You asked, not being able to keep the line from your thoughts and your words straight, which you immediately regretted. Peggy looked at you a bit surprised but also pleased, “If Howard was right? Then… I think we’d make a mess of his lab” she laughed teasingly. “Then why don’t we?” You hesitantly whispered, hoping to god she’d say yes. But she didn’t say anything. She simply came over to you, tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear and whispered into your ear, “then… you’d listen to every word I say, and be a good girl for mommy.” She backed up to look you in the eyes, hers full of dark lust. “Yes” you breathlessly whimpered. “Yes Mommy…” you whimpered and almost moaned.

The next morning, Howard had this breakfast and made his way down to the lab, exited to see if his little experiment had worked out. He unlocked the door and couldn’t contain his laughter. The lab was absolutely wrecked. Equipment everywhere. And on the center lab table, Peggy had you spread out as she finger fucked you with one hand and had her other wrapped around your neck. “Fuck Howard, out!” You mewled trying to get words out, about to cum for the upteenth time. You were in such a sex fog, you hadn’t even heard him coming or unlocking the door. “Well would look at that!” Howard exclaimed. Peggy moved close to your ear and tauntingly purred, “Last one love, cum on my fingers in front of Howard. Show him and Mommy how much of a lesbian slut you truly are”. And then you came. In front of Howard. And you couldn’t even contain your moan. It was too overstimulating. “Fuuuck, Mommy” you screamed. “Shit”. Howard said. “Hell, maybe I should be a lesbian” he chuckled, as he left the room, leaving you two alone.

#marvel mcu #mcu fanfiction #mcu fandom #agent carter smut #agent carter #peggy carter smut #peggy carter #mommys little girl #mommy k!nk #domme mommy #mommy? sorry. mommy? sorry. mommy?#mommy issues #hot mommy #agent peggy carter #agent peggy carter smut #marvel fanfiction #marvel smut #marvel #lesfic

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thrashkink-coven · 4 months

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Hi all,

Welcome to the last part of my 2024 altar tour! 4/4

What a year it has been! I have learned so much and made so many new friends! My altar has always been a reflection of my psyche, seeing it’s beauty reminds me of the beauty that exists within me. :)

So this is my final little work space where I do pendulum magick and tarot readings. There is a devotional mug to Lord Lucifer which I use for our morning coffee chats. There is also Lucifer’s devotional dragon statue, as well as the dual scrying mirror for him and Faviel.

There is a normal mirror and a statue of a pharaoh’s tomb. The board which the flowers and offerings are placed on dawns Faviel’s sigil and candle. To Faviel I have offered a palm stone, flowers, an acorn, smoky quartz, some black earrings, and some grubs.

Beside him is my pendulum in a selenite charging bowl along with my pendulum mat.

The black and white image you see was a piece of art I made for Archangel Jophiel after he gifted me a vision a year or so ago. I use it whenever I’m reaching out to him.

Beneath my altar is some space for storage where I keep my larger cauldron, mortar and pestle, larger candles, etc. There is also my stand where I keep my broom, fire poker, and shovel. My witch broom is wrapped in a protective seal. I use it to sweep ash from my prayer mat.

And finally, here are a few of the books I have in my collection that have greatly greatly aided me in my craft. Remember to do your research my dears!

The Arbatel of Magick- First English edition 1633, new edition 2013, edited by Earl Marwick

Healing with Form, Energy, and Light- Tenzin Wangyal Rinpoche

Gods and Goddesses- Hallam, Elizabeth

The Lesser Key of Solomon- S.L MacGregor Mathers and Aleister Crowley

The Dictionary of Alchemy- Diana Fernando

The Art of Angels- Howard Loxton

Backland’s Book of Spirit Communications- Raymond Buckland

Transcendental Magick- Éliphas Lévi

The Greater Key of Solomon- S.L MacGregor Mathers

A History of God- Karen Armstrong

A Dictionary of Angels, Including Fallen Angels- Gustav Davidson

Making Talismans- Nick Farrell

The Sixth and Seventh Books of Moses- Johann Scheibel

The Egyptian Book of the Dead

The Rise and Fall of the Nephilim- Scott Alan Roberts

Buckland’s Complete Book of Witchcraft- Raymond Buckland

Candle Burning Rituals- Raymond Buckland

The Complete Book of Black Magick and Witchcraft

Green Witchcraft, Folk Magick, Fairy Lore & Herb Craft- Ann Moura

The Book of Forbidden Knowledge, Black Magick, Superstition, Charms and Divination- First Edition 1910s Johnson Smith & co. New Edition 2016 edited by Earl Marwick

Three Books of Occult Philosophy- Henry Cornelius Agrippa

and of course, The Holy Bible- New Living Translation.

I have many other books in my collection on tarot and astrology in my living room, but these are the books that have had the greatest impact on my craft. Here are a few of those other ones:

Love Potions- Tatania Hardie

The Book of Destinies- Jane Struthers

The Crystal Bible 2- Judy Hall

The Tarot Bible- Sarah Barlett

The Wicca Bible- Ann Marie Gallagher

Cunningham’s Encyclopedia of Magical Herbs- Scott Cunningham

Magic and Medicine of Plants- Reader’s Digest

The Power of Birthdays Stars and Numbers- Saffi Crawford and Geraldine Sullivan

The Witches’ Goddess- Janet and Stewart Farrar

The Witches’ God- Janet and Stewart Farrar

•••

I wanted to end this tour off with my reading material because I want to emphasize how important it is to understand that “magick” is not just “stuff”.

I really enjoy all of my magical tools and there’s absolutely nothing wrong with having and wanting pretty things or an aesthetically pleasing altar. In fact I believe aesthetic and care are acts of love in themselves. Don’t ever let someone shame you for wanting to decorate and indulge in the aesthetics of your craft.

But please do remember that our greatest magical tool is our minds, our senses, and our experiences- our brains. Remember to read read read lots of material from many different sources. Contemplate honestly on everything you read, hear and experience. Do not take everything you believe today as a fact, do not box yourself in to anything. (Maybe that’s the Luciferian in me speaking lol)

Learn how to do magick alone, without any tools. My magick is not my stuff, although my stuff greatly aids me in my magick. Does that make sense?

Thank you so much for reading! I look forward to growing and learning so much more this year! :)

Blessed be!

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plussizefantasia · 7 months

Text

Inky Black

Flufftober Day 12: Shooting Stars

Peter Parker x avenger!reader

Word Count: 1.0k

AN: Thank you to everyone who has read and liked every post so far for Flufftober, seeing those notifs during work always makes me smile. As always, please reblog if you enjoy this story and I will see you tomorrow!

divider credit @royallaesthetics

The sky in Queens is never dark. It's never dark enough to see all the stars in the sky, not like you can in the compound. Peter used to love the stars. Uncle Ben used to take him on drives upstate when there would be a meteor shower so that they could see them together. When he died, Peter stopped watching them. It was too hard, too many feelings and memories wrapped up in the tradition.

You had called him earlier that day, letting him know that there was going to be a shower tonight, one of the biggest in recent history. The excitement in your voice was easily heard. Peter had a hard time saying no to you on a normal day, let alone when you’re that excited.

The compound was in a prime star-gazing position. Howard Stark had a good sense of real estate when he bought the place however long ago for storage. There weren’t too many trees, so the skyline was pretty much clear. It was far enough away from civilization that there wasn’t any light pollution and it was tall enough that you could feel like you were a part of the whole sky.

You’d never asked Peter to watch the stars with you, it was normally something you did yourself when the days got rough and you needed a reminder of everything that mattered. It grounded you. This meteor shower though, was a special one. And you wanted to share it with your boyfriend. You knew that he and Ben used to watch the stars together and you figured that it would bring back good memories for him. Spending time with the people he loves, watching the stars, and speaking their stories into existence.

It was sufficiently dark, near 10:00 and the shower was supposed to start in about half an hour. There was only one problem. You hadn’t heard from Peter in a few hours. You had seen him walk into the common room when he had gotten home from class. He had left a kiss on your forehead while you lounged on the couch. After that, he had seemingly disappeared.

You weren’t going to miss the shower because of your missing boyfriend though. So you grabbed the flannel blanket from your room and threw on an old soft sweatshirt and a pair of fluffy socks. You grabbed something to drink and walked outside. Your favorite part of the compound was the sky lounge which Tony had installed after you had bugged him for literal months about all the free space up there.

You went to begin the long-ish trek around the building to the roof access ladder when he called out “Need a lift?”

Peter looked cozy, in a similar sweatshirt to your own with his soft blanket in his arms. He looked sheepish. No doubt realizing that he had disappeared for long enough for you to leave without him.

Secretly he was charmed by your ability to be independent. He loved taking care of you, don’t get him wrong. But sometimes it was too much, knowing that the city relied on you was a tough pill to swallow. So knowing that you didn’t necessarily need him made him feel good. You didn’t keep him around because he was your superhero boyfriend, you kept him around because you loved him. Both parts of him, and you knew that sometimes being Spiderman was a bit too much, but you never really pushed him on it. After all, you knew all too well what it felt like to have the whole world rely on you.

He wanted to be there for you though, when you were excited about something that indicated that whatever it was mattered to you. Peter would rather lose his powers and become a nobody again than let you down when you cared.

So he sucked it up, pushed down the overwhelming emotions and memories of nights just like this with the only father he had, and showed up for you. Because with you by his side, he thinks, it won’t be so bad.

You didn’t reply to his question just spun on the balls of your feet so you were facing him and walked right up into his chest. You wrapped your free arm around his neck and buried your face in his chest.

Peter just smiled, kissed the top of your head, and wrapped one of his arms around your waist. Using the other to launch some webs up onto the roof and begin to swing the two of you up there.

Swinging with Peter was always fun, even when it was just small moments like this. The feeling of his arms wrapped securely around your body made you feel safe. You knew he wouldn’t drop you so you were able to fully let go and enjoy the feeling of weightlessness that came with defying gravity.

All too soon the two of you were on top of the compound and setting up your blankets next to each other. Peter lay down first and you followed, laying your head on his biceps and looking up towards the inky black sky.

“Thank you.” he didn’t need to ask for an explanation from you, he knew that you were thanking him for being there for you. You had an uncanny ability to read him. You probably already knew that he was having some dark thoughts. But you also saw that he was trying hard to push them aside and be here in the moment.

“Anything for you.”

“Ditto”. The two of you didn’t need any miraculous love confessions or elaborate grand displays. Ditto was enough. You loved him and he loved you and that was enough, even on the bad days.

The two of you spent the next hour pointing at stars, swapping made-up stories about sky warriors and goddesses that enchanted the dark.

And if Tony was alerted by F.R.I.D.A.Y the next morning that you and Spiderboy were asleep together on the roof, well who is he to stop two kids in love?

#plus size reader #plus size!reader #fanfic #fluff #x reader #drabble #marvel fanfiction #flufftober #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x plus size reader #chubby reader

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itsoxyymoronn · 5 months

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i'd like to disclaim i have only read the first hunger games book and around half of the second, so my opinions and personal analysis are mainly skewed towards the movies. also spoilers for TBOSAS (duh). also this is all kind of a rushed non-edited theory, and probably needs more detail. ill probably edit here and there, so i'd love to hear any thoughts!

after seeing The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes last night, honestly what has been on my mind a lot was if the love between lucy gray and snow was real, and from that it felt it could only be answered by whether snow was inherently evil or he became evil.

the easiest answer feels to be that he was always purely selfish and lacked a great deal of empathy. all things seemed to point to that, but one thing that always threw a wrench in that idea for me was the scene where snow breaks down crying after looking in sejanus' storage. i think this scene is particularly important because by panem standards he did the correct thing. his friend was a rebel and he reported it. by panem's standards, he shouldn't feel guilty, and yet he still does. this seems to indicate some sort of moral compass in him.

i guess then the question leads to why snow became so evil. i think it is a combination of inherent self-serving traits and the environment he was raised in. i think a key concept here is "explanation, not excuse", which i learned from a video essay by Trope Anatomy in regards to Cassie Howard (link below). experiencing war and hardship at such a young age and later growing up around negative influences, such as Dr. Gaul and really all of the capitol itself, shaped his worldview and are direct factors that lead him to make the decisions he does. it doesn't excuse them though. his upbringing didn't force him to make these terrible choices, they only gave him more reason to. yet he still could've chosen to be good, as people like sejanus did.

him becoming pure evil in the end felt like a defense mechanism to cope with his own guilt. an incredibly messed up and extreme one at that. i think in the end his distain for the districts and their people doesn't come solely from them being "district" (although that definitely has something to do with his hatred) but rather them being people. dr. gaul taught him humans are all destined to show their true, evil nature, and this snow did. i think continuing the games was a way of proving to himself again and again that it was not just him that was evil, but all humans. it probably soothed the guilt within him.

while he may not have began as pure evil, he did become it. he's evil, full stop. he can't be redeemed. but i think TBOSAS gives us reason as to why he is like this. and while it may have been easy to view snow as forever and always evil, i believe in a way snow having this agency and development into cruelty just makes him all the more evil because it shows he DID have a choice, and chose evil. a great Screen Rant quote that really made me start thinking about this is "the overarching antagonist of the Hunger Games [is] Panem, not Snow" (link below).

SOURCES:

Trope Anatomy: Freudian Cassie: How Far an Excuse Can Go

youtube

Screen Rant: Ballad Of Songbirds & Snakes Changes How You See Snow (But He’s Still Evil) https://screenrant.com/ballad-songbirds-snakes-president-snow-changes-evil/#:~:text=Still%2C%20the%20purpose%20behind%20Suzanne,Games%20as%20Panem%2C%20not%20Snow.

GIF credit is linked in GIF.

#the ballad of songbirds and snakes #thg #coriolanus snow #tbosas #corio snow #coryo snow #sejanus plinth #lucy gray baird #snowbaird #thg series #tigris snow #panem #hunger games #suzanne collins

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thatrickmcginnis · 3 months

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LYDIA LUNCH, Toronto 1988

The closest thing I had to a photographer's studio in early 1988 was an unused room behind the bar at the Silver Dollar Room, a former showbar-turned-strip club that was reopened as a rock club the previous year. This was where I'd do a series of portrait shoots that turned out to be pivotal in my early career, beginning with Lydia Lunch, who came to Toronto on January 26, 1988 on a spoken word tour. Lydia was a star in my little world, famous since her band Teenage Jesus & the Jerks had four songs on the landmark No New York compilation album a decade earlier. She was by this point known as a force of nature, making records and films and publishing books, with a personal style that was as influential as Siouxsie Sioux in that every town's scene had at least a couple of dozen young women who looked exactly like her.

Lydia Lunch showed up performing the material she'd later release on her Oral Fixation record, a pioneer of the spoken word genre (along with former Black Flag singer Henry Rollins - more about him shortly) that would turn out to have real longevity. My photos of her were meant to accompany an article my friend Tim was writing - a paean to the woman who was a kind of nihilist sex symbol in the underground subcultures that had formed since punk rock. So I tried to approach the shoot as something like glamour photography, not dissimilar to the photos I'd take of actress (and onetime Bond Girl) Jane Seymour for a fashion magazine a couple of weeks later. Bringing along my little portable studio - a light stand and umbrella bounce, a portable flash and a big white painter's tarp I carrried around in a gym bag - I cleared a space in the storage room at the Silver Dollar and found an unbroken bar stool that I place midway between my tarp backdrop and my flash.

Delivering a decent shot must have been a priority when I photographed Lydia Lunch because I shot two whole rolls of 120 film that evening hoping for something worthwhile. If you know anything about Lydia you'll have some sense of how intimidating she can be, by choice. (I don't think she'd have a problem with that statement.) My contact sheets show me moving closer with my camera as I got a bit more confident with my subject, who (perhaps accidentally) presented a bit more than her usual defiant face as we talked and took pictures. Lydia had just released Honeymoon in Red, working with guitarist Rowland S. Howard (about whom more soon) and members of The Birthday Party; when I told Howard (in the same back room at the Silver Dollar) that I'd photographed Lydia just a few weeks later, he asked how she was, and I said that there were occasional frames where I got a glimpse of the Catholic girl from upstate New York. He smiled and agreed, laughing that while he'd seen the same aspect of Lydia, he was sure she wouldn't be pleased about it being revealed.

#portrait #portrait photography #photography #black and white #film photography #lydia lunch #punk rock #musician #author #early work #some old pictures i took #photographer #mamiya c330

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six-costume-refs · 8 months

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why did leesa wear the band costume for her we debut instead of her howard or her orange??

Well, prior to her first show she was wearing orange makeup, so it seems like the intent was initially for her to wear orange alt. As for why she didn't, not sure! Could have been any number of reasons, like not being able to get it out of storage in time or damage that couldn't be fixed quickly enough for her to wear it.

#leesa tulley #six the musical

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girlactionfigure · 1 year

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Immense pride, tinged with sadness.

For those who would like to read the full list:

1908 MECHNIKOV, ELIE

FOR THEIR WORK ON IMMUNITY

1908 EHRLICH, PAUL

FOR THEIR WORK ON IMMUNITY

1914 BARANY, ROBERT

FOR HIS WORK ON THE PHYSIOLOGY AND PATHOLOGY OF THE VESTIBULAR APPARATUS

1922 MEYERHOF, OTTO FRITZ

FOR HIS DISCOVERY OF THE FIXED RELATIONSHIP BETWEEN THE CONSUMPTION OF

OXYGEN AND THE METABOLISM OF LACTIC ACID IN THE MUSCLE

1930 LANDSTEINER, KARL

FOR HIS DISCOVERY OF HUMAN BLOOD GROUPS

1936 LOEWI, OTTO

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES RELATING TO CHEMICAL TRANSMISSION OF NERVE IMPULSES

1944 ERLANGER, JOSEPH

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES RELATING TO THE HIGHLY DIFFERENTIATED FUNCTIONS OF SINGLE NERVE FIBRES

1945 CHAIN, ERNST BORIS

FOR THE DISCOVERY OF PENICILLIN AND ITS CURATIVE EFFECT IN VARIOUS INFECTIOUS DISEASES

1946 MULLER, HERMANN J.

FOR THE DISCOVERY OF THE PRODUCTION OF MUTATIONS BY MEANS OF X-RAY IRRADIATION

1947 CORI, GERTY THERESA, RADNITZ

FOR THEIR DISCOVERY OF THE COURSE OF THE CATALYTIC CONVERSION OF GLYCOGEN

1950 REICHSTEIN, TADEUS

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES RELATING TO THE HORMONES OF THE ADRENAL CORTEX, THEIR STRUCTURE AND BIOLOGICAL EFFECTS

1952 WAKSMAN, SELMAN A.

FOR HIS DISCOVERY OF STREPTOMYCIN, THE FIRST ANTIBIOTIC EFFECTIVE AGAINST TUBERCULOSIS

1953 LIPMANN, FRITZ ALBERT

FOR HIS DISCOVERY OF CO-ENZYME A AND ITS IMPORTANCE FOR INTERMEDIARY METABOLISM

1953 KREBS, HANS ADOLF

FOR HIS DISCOVERY OF THE CITRIC ACID CYCLE

1958 LEDERBERG, JOSHUA

FOR HIS DISCOVERIES CONCERNING GENETIC RECOMBINATION AND THE ORGANISATION OF THE GENETIC MATERIAL OF BACTERIA

1959 KORNBERG, ARTHUR

FOR THEIR DISCOVERY OF THE MECHANISMS IN THE BIOLOGICAL SYNTHESIS OF RIBONUCLEIC ACID AND DEOXYRIBONUCLEIC ACID

1964 BLOCH, KONRAD

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING THE MECHANISM AND REGULATION OF THE CHOLESTEROL AND FATTY ACID METABOLISM

1965 JACOB, FRANCOIS

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING GENETIC CONTROL OF ENZYME AND VIRUS SYNTHESIS

1965 LWOFF, ANDRE

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING GENETIC CONTROL OF ENZYME AND VIRUS SYNTHESIS

1967 WALD, GEORGE

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING THE PRIMARY PHYSIOLOGICAL AND CHEMICAL VISUAL PROCESSES IN THE EYE

1968 NIRENBERG, MARSHALL W.

FOR THEIR INTERPRETATION OF THE GENETIC CODE AND ITS FUNCTION IN PROTEIN SYNTHESIS

1969 LURIA, SALVADOR E.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING THE REPLICATION MECHANISM AND THE GENETIC STRUCTURE OF VIRUSES

1970 KATZ, BERNARD

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING THE HUMORAL TRANSMITTERS IN THE NERVE TERMINALS AND THE MECHANISM

FOR THEIR STORAGE, RELEASE AND INACTIVATION

1970 AXELROD, JULIUS

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING THE HUMORAL TRANSMITTERS IN THE NERVE TERMINALS AND THE MECHANISM

FOR THEIR STORAGE, RELEASE AND INACTIVATION

1972 EDELMAN, GERALD M.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING THE CHEMICAL STRUCTURE OF ANTIBODIES

1975 TEMIN, HOWARD M.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING THE INTERACTION BETWEEN TUMOR VIRUSES AND THE GENETIC MATERIAL OF THE CELL

1975 BALTIMORE, DAVID

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING THE INTERACTION BETWEEN TUMOR VIRUSES AND THE GENETIC MATERIAL OF THE CELL

1976 BLUMBERG, BARUCH S.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING NEW MECHANISMS FOR THE ORIGIN AND DISSEMINATION OF INFECTIOUS DISEASES

1977 YALOW, ROSALYN

FOR THE DEVELOPMENT OF RADIOIMMUNOASSAYS OF PEPTIDE HORMONES

1977 SCHALLY, ANDREW V.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING THE PEPTIDE HORMONE PRODUCTION OF THE BRAIN

1978 NATHANS, DANIEL

FOR THE DISCOVERY OF RESTRICTION ENZYMES AND THEIR APPLICATION TO PROBLEMS OF MOLECULAR GENETICS

1980 BENACERRAF, BARUJ

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING GENETICALLY DETERMINED STRUCTURES ON THE CELL SURFACE THAT

REGULATE IMMUNOLOGICAL REACTIONS

1984 MILSTEIN, CESAR

FOR THEORIES CONCERNING THE SPECIFICITY IN DEVELOPMENT AND CONTROL OF THE IMMUNE SYSTEM AND THE DISCOVERY OF THE

PRINCIPLE FOR PRODUCTION OF MONOCLONAL ANTIBODIES

1985 BROWN, MICHAEL S.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING THE REGULATION OF CHOLESTEROL METABOLISM

1985 GOLDSTEIN, JOSEPH L.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING THE REGULATION OF CHOLESTEROL METABOLISM

1986 COHEN, STANLEY

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES OF GROWTH FACTORS

1986 LEVI-MONTALCINI, RITA

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES OF GROWTH FACTORS

1988 ELION, GERTRUDE B.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES OF IMPORTANT PRINCIPLES FOR DRUG TREATMENT

1989 VARMUS, HAROLD E.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERY OF THE CELLULAR ORIGIN OF RETROVIRAL ONCOGENES

1994 RODBELL, MARTIN

FOR THEIR DISCOVERY OF G-PROTEINS AND THE ROLE OF THESE PROTEINS IN SIGNAL TRANSDUCTION IN CELLS

1994 GILMAN, ALFRED G.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERY OF G-PROTEINS AND THE ROLE OF THESE PROTEINS IN SIGNAL TRANSDUCTION IN CELLS

1997 PRUSINER, STANLEY B.

FOR HIS DISCOVERY OF PRIONS - A NEW BIOLOGICAL PRINCIPLE OF INFECTION

1998 FURCHGOTT, ROBERT F.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING NITRIC OXIDE AS A SIGNALING MOLECULE IN THE CARDIOVASCULAR SYSTEM

2000 GREENGARD, PAUL

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING SIGNAL TRANSDUCTION IN THE NERVOUS SYSTEM

2000 KANDEL, ERIC R.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING SIGNAL TRANSDUCTION IN THE NERVOUS SYSTEM

2002 BRENNER, SYDNEY

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING GENETIC REGULATION OF ORGAN DEVELOPMENT AND PROGRAMMED CELL DEATH

2002 HORVITZ, H. ROBERT

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING GENETIC REGULATION OF ORGAN DEVELOPMENT AND PROGRAMMED CELL DEATH

2004 AXEL, RICHARD

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES OF ODORANT RECEPTORS AND THE ORGANIZATION OF THE OLFACTORY SYSTEM

2006 FIRE, ANDREW Z.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERY OF RNA INTERFERENCE - GENE SILENCING BY DOUBLE-STRANDED RNA

2011 STEINMAN, RALPH M.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING THE ACTIVATION OF INNATE IMMUNITY

2011 BEUTLER, BRUCE A.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES CONCERNING THE ACTIVATION OF INNATE IMMUNITY

2013 SCHEKMAN, RANDY W.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES OF MACHINERY REGULATING VESICLE TRAFFIC, A MAJOR TRANSPORT SYSTEM IN OUR CELLS

2013 ROTHMAN, JAMES E.

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES OF MACHINERY REGULATING VESICLE TRAFFIC, A MAJOR TRANSPORT SYSTEM IN OUR CELLS

2017 ROSBASH, MICHAEL

FOR THEIR DISCOVERIES OF MOLECULAR MECHANISMS CONTROLLING THE CIRCADIAN RHYTHM

Likud Herut UK

#Israel #Nobel prize #Jewish Pride

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howards-storage-world · 9 months

Text

All At One Place

With all your favourites from Joseph Joseph in one place, Howards Storage World makes it easy to get great deals on your must-haves from Joseph Joseph. Shop for Joseph Joseph dish racks, bins and much more at Howards Storage World Today!

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#howards #howards storage #storage solutions

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captainpoopweinersoldier · 1 year

Text

With Compliments | Jake x FReader

18+ Only; Smut; Quickie both literally and figuratively. Holidays do me in so here’s a thing in which a certain hot bartender helps you cope; Established relationship.

Words: 2.3k

Link to AO3

In retrospect, if there was one silver lining to the evening, at least it was discovering this new brand of coping mechanism. Even if a total lapse in rationale could be blamed; patience all but out the window mere moments after arriving at the restaurant on a goddamn holiday. Your family was unbearable, constantly bickering, superficial. So passive aggressively judgemental that you’d gone as far as keeping them in the dark over the fact that you actually waitressed here.

What luck they decided to splurge on an outing to the fine dining location on your one rare day off rather than settle for the traditional turkey dinner at home on Long Island.

The rapid rise in volume between patrons and the inlaws and the cousins and their children - made you wince, and the second glass of wine was barely doing much to help.

Yet just as you take the last sip, a third drink is set in front of you. You raise a brow at the flaming old fashioned and glance up to see Will with his usual boyish smile.

“With compliments.”

All the staff know the truth of course. Thankfully they keep the secret quiet, even if the bartender is a little less subtle.

Ignoring your family’s dramatic remarks, you eye him across the large expanse of the room, finding his equally frustrating and endearing smug smirk as you set your palm on the glass to put out the flame.

Naturally, that’s about all it takes for you where Jake is concerned. The light’s a touch too dim and the bar a foot too far away to see him perfectly clear amid the crowd, but the effect is still there in those narrowed up-to-no-good blue eyes, the amused purse of his lips as he gazes steadily back.

You take an all too unceremonious swig of your drink, its burn barely registering as you rise from the table in the next fluid motion. Without explanation or sensibility, you're crossing the floor. Shooting him a look so pointed that - were it any other day, any other circumstance where you weren't so clearly tense with angst - maybe he'd show a little more restraint. Instead he tells Nicky to cover him and keeps an inconspicuous distance as he follows you to the second floor.

Said circumstance is far from your mind a moment later. Jake's body a welcome distraction as he keeps your back pinned to a shelving unit, kissing you until your lungs gasp for air and you feel weak in the knees.

You're in a storage room somewhere between the lockers and Howard's office. Some boxes and Tupperware clatter to the floor amid the heated exchange, but all that really matters is that there's a lock on the door granting you this moment of privacy.

His chuckle rumbles at your jaw as you all but snatch at his apron, the noise low and reverberating through his chest in a way that spurs goosebumps on the nape of your neck.

"Seriously?" he prods dryly. And while sex in the workplace isn't something you ever considered, his reputation proceeds him and you figure it's a safe assumption he's done this before.

You try to mask the neediness in your voice, a fruitless attempt from the way his apron is flung aside, fingers hurrying as they latch onto his belt next. "Are you turning me down?"

His gaze finds yours and you're thankful the lights are switched on, able to see him clearly, his eyes shades darker as he looks down at you with cuts of breath rasping through his flushed pink lips.

"No," he says firmly. He brushes your tangled hair back, his hands trail down your ribcage, then his lips part suggestively and he grabs your ass. "Just don’t like having to rush with you.” He easily hoists you off your feet and the feel of his trim figure nestling between your thighs is relief enough to make your contented sigh sound more like a choked sob.

You’re considerate of his shirt, not wanting to muss or wrinkle the stripes while he’s only halfway through his shift. Instead you settle for his hair, fingertips nestling into the black mess of it as his mouth finds yours in another kiss so bruising that you find it lucky you opted against lipstick for the outing. Jake tastes good, leaves a trace of lemon on your lips, and you moan around his tongue as it licks into your mouth.

Luckier still is the outfit you’re wearing. The tunic blouse makes for easy access. Jake’s hands roam, cool on your stomach, forceful when one shoves beneath a cup of your bra, clenching roughly around your nipple till you’re squealing.

You break away gasping, urging him on faster, rapidly growing more and more impatient. Only to swoon at his look of determination, a pinch set between his brows as he moves just as briskly to yank at your leggings with his free hand. The fabric is just stretchy and malleable enough that he can tug them past your ass to mid-thigh and still keep you parted for him; the audible strained tear of panties follows shortly after.

Strapped for time, any chance of foreplay ends there. Jake presses against you impossibly closer, finishing the job of undoing his belt, and it’s a combined effort that has you untucking his shirt as he rucks down his pants.

“Jake, please,” you urge again breathlessly. And for a second he dares to tease you; slicks his swelled head along your aching heat, and the effect is instant. Your hips lurch and your back arches, a shelf digs into your shoulders eliciting a hissed curse while Jake keeps you steady. A quiet shush tickles your skin, but when he fills you with his cock, it takes your all not to shake the room with your voice.

He readjusts, lithe hands glued to your thighs, and the next thrust has strength enough to make your jaw clatter. “Quiet, quiet,” he murmurs at your throat, voice deep and thick, a groan seeping into his words as he sets a haste pace. The abrupt, delectable pain evens into something that shoots sparks behind your eyelids; it’s a harder feat now, keeping from tearing at his shirt, and you settle for wrangling the knot of his tie. “Feels good? Better?”

“Let’s see how far you get first,” you manage to sass, though the slur of your tongue gives you away. Really, all you can think is finally. Having what you were suddenly so desperate for - Jake providing distraction and solace in equal measure to the deeper feelings you already have for him.

For a moment your eyes meet and there’s the glint of adoration alight in his gaze, and you both barely manage to share a laugh with each other when Jake’s mouth crashes on yours again. Hungry and devouring, with little finesse but enough to swallow the pathetic sounds you make.

It hardly even lasts - quickly reverts to harsh panting as he fucks you harder. The shelving at your back rattles unsteadily, something else falls to the floor. But where typically you might fret over it, now your mind is only fervent bliss, reeling each time he fills you completely with a satisfying stretch. He knows how to hit just right and it shows in the quake of your thighs, the steady rise of pleasure blooming in the depths of your gut. You think he can make you come like this alone, tell him as much with a begging whisper at his lips.

He moves then - your own resolve keeps your thighs locked around his waist - lifting a hand to clasp your jaw with his thumb toying at your lips. The other joins it with altogether different purpose - his middle and index fingers prod at the seam and you open. Let the digits slip along your tongue. His eyes narrow at the sight, and when your hollowed cheeks eagerly suck, his breath hitches in his throat. His hips stutter sharply and off rhythm, as if the supple motion nearly finishes him on the spot.

Quickly he withdraws, and the hand disappears between your bodies. Slinks through the tangled mess of bunched fabric where those long fingers deftly find your clit.

“Jake, Jake -”

“I said - quiet,” he says slowly. And though there’s a shaky edge to his voice, that low vibrato that sends you about as much as his body does, there’s a playful upturn to the corner of his mouth. Watching you fall apart as he rolls your clit between the pads of his fingers in perfect harmony with his unyielding thrusts. The caustic coil lashes at you inside; bursts and trickles through your limbs and you almost can’t hold back the loud moan threatening your lungs.

Jake can feel it as you come undone, revels in your hoarse cry. His face burrows into the crook of your neck to stifle his own noise as your cunt throbs and shudders around him. He tears at the neck of your blouse, his teeth find your bared shoulder and he clamps down as he follows. Tensing with a final snap of his hips, unmoving with his cock pulsing and buried deep, and finally he melts. Spills himself into your tight heat with a guttural exhale.

Break time is most assuredly over, cutting short the much preferred option of drinking in the moment to stay wrapped up in Jake just a second longer. Instead, it’s back to business as you both gather yourselves and right your clothes. The panties are a lost cause and you think that the trembling in your hands will stop by the time you get back to the table. But other than that, there's hopefully no other evidence as to what you’ve been up to.

“You always act out when they’re in town?” Jake teases eventually. He’s still catching his breath and you try not to focus on the way his chest heaves in his snug shirt as he fixes his tie.

“And to think I almost forgot they were here…” you tell him dryly.

“Guess I’ll have to try harder.” He moves close again after collecting his apron, slides his hand over the curve of your neck. But it’d likely make things easier if he didn’t touch you at all. The small gesture is enough to make you want to be smothered by him, and there’s too many hours to go before he’s off work and you’re unburdened of relatives.

“I think I like it when you use me,” he adds, and you try not to combust. He leans in for a kiss, but you stop him just before it lands and his brows furrow in question.

“It doesn’t bother you, does it? That they don’t know about you?”

“Well then that’d make things serious.” His eyes briefly widen as he enunciates the word.

“Jake.”

He sobers up and considers it. With a deep breath, sets his forehead on yours, running his knuckles across your skin. “It doesn’t bother me. I can stay the fuck out of it until you say so.”

It wasn’t intentional, not like the secret of your current place of employment. But it was nice to feel like Jake was just - yours. And not to be inspected under a microscope like some sort of science project.

“I gotta go,” Jake says, and kisses you like he intended. Short but sweet, those soft lips make your eyelids flutter. “You look nice. Walk me home later?”

You smile fully for the first time that night. “Of course.”

It’s late by the time you make it back to the restaurant. Shift drinks well underway, and while it’s half-tempting to join in, you don’t exactly have the stamina. So you hover by the side door near the bar, opting to wait outside in the cityscape of neon lights and wet sidewalk busied with passerby. It always seemed a little weird how night life thrived for Thanksgiving, of all things…

Ari spots you first as you peer in - cigarette in one hand, drink in the other and makes a show of it in a bid to get you inside. Soon enough, the others take notice and it becomes an absurd raucous group effort that makes your face grow hot with mortification, just knowing they’ll bust your balls after serving your family.

You’re about to step back - wait at a smidge further distance when the door flies open and Jake swarms your vision.

He’s out of uniform now, donned in jeans and a leather jacket and even if the stripes don’t look half bad on him, this is a much more welcome view.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” It comes out playfully, but honestly, all you want to do is paw at him.

Jake takes your hand and you just manage to catch the blush land on his cheeks when he holds up a large takeaway cup.

“I made you something.”

You eye it warily, but you take it from him and have a sip from the straw.

Its chill hits a little harder in the cold air, but it’s bubbly, and just the right amount of sweet, with something rich in it that immediately heats your belly. It’s delicious. And you can’t help but feel a little sheepish over licking your lips while Jake stares intently.

“What is that?”

With a small tug, he leads you down the sidewalk and in the direction of his apartment. “Champagne.. A little raspberry. And gin.”

“Oh, so we’re getting fucked up tonight.”

You almost pout when he lets go of your hand, but it’s only so he can drape his arm over your shoulders; keep you snug and tight against his warmth as you take a few more sips. “How else am I gonna take advantage of you?”

“It’s yummy.”

“You’re yummy.”

“Shut up.”

#jake sweetbitter #jake sweetbitter x reader #tom sturridge #sweetbitter #my fic

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