#and of not being able to drink anything cold but soda

[killsaki]

backdoor cover. — tomura isn’t into betting too much, but he doesn’t mind winning.

no quirks!college!tomura shigaraki x f!reader

4.6k words | read on ao3 | minors dni.

CW / TW : DARK CONTENT! dubcon, drugging, mean!tomura, slight misogyny, victim blaming, really shitty college guys, you get slightly stepped on, fingering, creampie, planned noncon.

moving from your hometown is nerve racking no matter how old you are.

though, it is a bit easier in college than it would've been in middle school where you would have to stress about making new friends or impressing the cool kids. now, it’s mostly just the annoyance of having to figure things out like where all your classes are, and how the hell you’re going to find entertainment to keep you sane during the semester when you’re hundreds of miles from anything that you know.

but, lucky for you, the campus you’ve transferred to is the same campus as the oh so friendly, keigo takami.

the man was the definition of a social butterfly. he’d approached you the first day you were able to find your way to buy lunch on campus, learning your name and memorizing it to greet you every time the two of you crossed paths. then it advanced to him starting to make small talk when the two of you were standing in the same vicinity for longer than a minute. one day those short conversations turned into him walking you back to your car after classes and inviting you to parties his friends—or possibly other random people he’d interacted with on campus—would throw.

and at one of those parties, somehow, you became friends with touya. though, the entirety of the first conversation the two of you had was just you both tossing light insults at each other. at some point the two of you, like you had with the blonde, become friendlier. there’s still as many jabs at each other, but hanging out is never too bad.

keigo and touya both have introduced you to so many people, all of which have turned out to be just as fun and just as entertaining to talk to as they have been. you’ve felt nothing less than welcomed by all of their peers.

that is until you went back to their shared apartment one day and met their roommate. it wasn’t terribly awkward at first, he was slumped over on the couch whenever you came in for the first time. his eyes fixated on the television screen, fingers moving away on the game system controller held in his hands. you had greeted him, and he grunted back, not caring to offer a glance your way let alone a word.

you had sat at the bar by the kitchen while touya did whatever it was that he needed to do, your feet swung off the tall seat as you scrolled through your phone, having a pointless conversation with the dark haired man. only after you heard the noises from the tv halt did you hear the couch squeak as shigaraki pushed himself off of it and made his way into the same room. you watched as he slid past touya, trying his hardest not to actually touch him while doing so, and reached into the fridge for whatever offbrand green soda he decided to pull out. and you took note of how much smaller he seems than the other man—and also about how cold he looks, both metaphorically and physically.

“what?” he’d spoke for the first time, then standing in front of you as he looked at you with complete irritance written on his face.

“nothing.” you quickly responded, blinking as his eyes burned into yours.

“you know—” touya starts, waving his hand towards you with his back turned.

“from the bet with birdbrain?” tomura’s eyes still bore into yours as he spoke.

“you suck,” the man behind you was interrupted by the other as he obnoxiously slurped his drink and nodded almost sarcastically and turned back to find his seat once again. “but, yeah.”

you had a conversation as soon as you two left the apartment what was being betted on and what it had to do with you. though, touya probably wasn’t the right one to have that conversation with, he did nothing to ease the odd feeling that sat in your stomach from the way that shigaraki stared at you like you had offended him just by being there.

keigo, on the other hand, assured you that the guy just had issues with social cues and what not. he didn’t leave the apartment much and that it had nothing to do with you. though.. now that you think about it, he didn’t bother to explain what the bet was.

“keigo,” you look up from your laptop’s screen to where he’s sitting on his couch, eyes falling to his spread legs for a moment before catching the shine off the gold chain adored around his neck. “why do you never have clothes on when i come over?”

he tears his eyes from his own screen and blinks at you for a second before looking down at his outfit. one that he seems to be constantly wearing whenever you tell him you’re swinging by to hang out.

“these are pajamas, dove.” he raises his eyebrows at you.

“but i got here at noon?” you squint your eyes at him, only to roll them when he laughs.

“it’s also saturday.” he goes back to typing away on his laptop, and you almost do the same until you remember the reason you actually called his name in the first place.

“why does,” you pause, looking towards the hallway that leads to all of the men’s rooms and lower your voice before finishing your sentence. “what did you and touya bet on?”

you can see how his whole body stops for a moment, his fingers resting on the keys, smiling with his eyebrows drawn together.

“lots of things, which are you talking about?” he asks dumbly, as if this is the first time you’ve brought this up.

“when i first came over here, and i met your roommate, he said something about a bet between you two.”

“when was that again?” his head falls back against the cushions, fingers patting a beat on the poor metal of his laptop.

“last month.” you indulge him with pointless detail.

“i’m not sure why he would say that.” he shrugs.

“no clue?” you feel annoyance start to grow in your chest, it’s not like keigo to be clueless about anything. ever.

“none.” he still doesn’t bother to look at you.

“you’re lying.” 

“i’d never lie.” the pat on his keyboard stops as a door opens behind him.

“you’re doing it right now.” you mutter, nudging his knee with your foot in an attempt to keep him talking.

“where the hell are your clothes?” he snaps his head once he catches a glance of his roommate who is only dressed in a pair of tight boxers.

“i pay rent here, i don’t have to wear clothes.” touya yawns back, ringed fingers dragging down his face.

“sure, if you’re fine with the guest seeing you nearly naked.” you can see keigo smiling even with his head turned as touya looks back to see who he was talking about, which, of course, is you. and you’re trying your hardest not to look at him as well, forcing your eyes to stay on keigo or even on your laptop screen but the ink that seems to wrap all the way around his torso catches your curiosity.

“you can look,” he speaks with his eyes locked on you, waiting for you to make eye contact before continuing. “let me know if you want a different angle.”

you scoff, lobbing the pencil you had nearby at him and successfully hitting his back. which results in insults being thrown at you, ones which you playfully retort to. and suddenly the tension from your thoughts before is gone. your mind back at ease when you just relax into the friendship that you have with these two for hours while the three of you eat and watch movies—only after touya successfully pulls the two of you along into his procrastinating crusade.

and you don’t even think about tomura again.

until he comes out of his room.

it’s much later into the evening, the sun has already fallen and you’re about to get ready to leave when he makes his appearance. white hair falls around his face to where you’re almost unable to see his eyes, but you do, and you catch the way he side-eyes down at you the second you come into his view.

he doesn’t say anything as he makes his way into the kitchen and grabs himself a bowl of something, or when he sits at the bar to eat his food. only when he’s on his way back does he slurp obnoxiously on his drink and hover behind where both touya and keigo are sat and asks,

“who won?” you don’t bother to look up from the tv, knowing he wasn’t speaking to you. but neither of them say anything. “so, you’re both still losers.” again, silence. besides another slurp. “whatever.”

he heads back to his room, door shutting behind him to confirm he wasn’t coming back.

“he heard the game?” you ask, not looking away from the screen. you made sure to have them turn the tv down whenever you all got on shigaraki’s console, the last thing you wanted was to give him any more reason to dislike you. but you know in your gut that it wasn’t what he was referring to.

“probably.” touya shrugs.

“no tellin’.” keigo adds on.

“right.” you nod, tension in the air thickening just as before. “i’m gonna go.”

they both snap their eyes your way, watching as you pack your things from the homework session you were supposed to be having with keigo.

“you leaving already?” keigo sits forward, a bewildered look on his face. “you didn’t even finish your drink.”

“you’re gonna owe me for wasting my soda,” touya pipes back in. “might as well just stay and finish it.”

you just force a laugh, pulling the doors handle without another word. you drive home the same way, in silence. and once you get back to your apartment, you ignore all their notifications, including neglecting to send your nightly goodnight snapchats to them both. but even as the night drags on and the hours go by, you can’t force yourself to sleep. there’s a weird, uncomfortable feeling in your stomach, one that keeps you from being able to get comfortable.

you know that they’re not bad people, that they’ve been great friends to you over the past few months and you can trust them. yet, even reminding yourself of that, you can’t get the weight off of your chest. so, you grab your keys and head back to their apartment hoping keigo will put you at ease like he always—usually does.

“they’re not here.” tomura blinks down at you, hair messy as ever as it frames his face that holds his permanently bored expression that does nothing to help the ever growing pit in the bottom of your stomach.

“where’d they go?” you ask quietly, half expecting him to shut the door in your face.

he only shrugs, turning and leaving the door open as he starts to walk away. you feel your body fall cold, thoughts eating at you without anything to slow them down. you can’t even remember what it is you’re so worried about, why you even feel this way.

“you’re letting the heat out.” you hear him mumble, as he starts to gather his things from the living room into his arms loudly. “i don't care what you do, just shut the door.” his shoulders roll back when he stands fully again and heads to his room. he’s so much taller when he actually stands up right.

you decided to wait inside, maybe you could catch keigo when he comes back. or even touya and—it’s two am. you step inside and shut the door behind you, falling to the couch once you reach it. maybe watching tv will help pass the time, oh and your soda is still on the table, perfect. now you don’t have to ask tomura for anything.

“why are you here?” he sighs, passing behind you, as if he was forced to ask.

“i just wanted to talk to them.” you light up your phone screen, debating on just calling them to see where they are.

“they had a bet.” you can see him trying to crack his neck from where he stands at the side of the couch. “if that’s what you came to talk about.”

“what?”

“you always ask them questions that they don’t answer, and you see how they get quiet whenever i ask them who won. before whats-his-name started talking to you they had a bet.” he talks down at you like it’s the most obvious thing, like you should’ve known this already.

you can feel your hands bunch up the material of your pants as they curl into fists on their own.

“it was who could fuck you first.”

and you think you can hear your heart as it falls out of your chest, toppling down your body and the couch as it clunks to the ground.

“that’s the only reason they started talking to you.”

he sighs, plopping himself down on the other side of the sofa, just far enough away from you that the two of you wouldn’t be touching.

“they probably actually like you now.”

 like that was supposed to bring you any comfort.

“why don’t you like me?” you say it before you can even process the painful information he’s already given you, before you even really think about it. though, you don’t have any anxiety about his answer. he’s already told you the worst thing possible about the two people you’d become closest with and you know he doesn’t like you. nothing he can say will make the way you feel any worse.

“huh?” he looks over at you with an eyebrow raised, but lips tilted in annoyance.

then you remember tomura is brutal with his words and truly doesn’t care about other people's feelings. maybe he’ll tear into you just to get you to leave.

“you always glare at me, you ignored me when i’ve tried to speak to you, you-”

“god, shut up.” he lays his head back against the cushion of the couch, spreading his legs so that his knee leans against yours. “i don’t like you because you’re stupid.” he’s as blunt as you expected him to be, but it doesn’t feel like theres any malice behind his words.

“i don’t think i’m stupid.” you say out loud, but mostly to yourself, you know tomura doesn’t care what you think. you stare at the watered down drink in your hand, mouth gone dry from the horrible feeling in your gut, you bring it up to your lips and drink as much as you can before you need to breathe.

“that’s why you are stupid.” he rolls his neck to look at you, head still laying on the couch. white hair caked to his face, red eyes staring at you without that usual grimace for what feels like the first time. “you think you’re too smart to be fooled, that’s why they were able to get to you so easily.”

“but i didn’t fall for anything because i never did anything with them.” you reason, taking another gulp from your drink and he just blinks back at you.

“you’re still in their hands.” he yawns, shifting his hips. “even if they do like you, what’s stopping them from using you as a quick fuck one night?”

you can’t think of an answer. it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to have sex with one of them, but really you always thought one of them would ask you to be their girlfriend if anything was to happen between you and whichever. the couch squeaks when he moves his hips again, readjusting once more.

“why would you tell me about all this if you’re their friend?”

“to get you out of my apartment.”

the feeling clouding your entire body couldn’t possibly get any worse, but the thought that he might’ve been telling you cause he cared, even if it was the tiniest bit- that might’ve helped. maybe you shouldn’t have even asked.

“right.” you nod, pursing your lips. “i’ll leave then, thanks.”

the second you stand up, the light from the hallway shines onto tomura’s lap. how the fuck did you miss that he had a hard on this entire time.

“oh.” you say before you have a chance to stop yourself. “sorry- i’m sorry.” you cover your mouth heading for the door, but after a few steps you start to feel dizzy, ultimately collapsing to the floor when your knees go weak. you hear something that sounds like ‘what the fuck’ come from behind you but it sounds muffled. you heart racing makes the sound of your blood pumping far too loud to hear anything else. but then, he’s crouched in front of you looking even more displeased than when he’d first opened the door. he doesn’t even say anything, just sneers at you.

“what was in that drink?” you grasp his shirt, hold shaking as your hand trembles. you feel the warm pit in your stomach from earlier increase by tenfold. it brings heat to your cheeks when you realize there's a puddle starting to form in your underwear, that your cheeks are burning and the feeling overtaking you is want. 

“oh, you really are fucking stupid.” he sighs, looking over to your nearly empty glass and chuckling in disbelief. always so cruel. “maybe they don’t actually like you.”

“tomura..” you can feel the tears prick at your eyes as the heat boiling under your skin starts to spread. “what do i do?”

he sighs again, because you being here is such an inconvenience, the thought of him having to help you is a complete detriment to his night.

“leave, call the police on them for drugging you, go to the hospital, fuck if i care.” he stands back up, groaning as he stretches and you moan from the sound alone. it makes the heat in your cheeks flare with embarrassment and you feel like you may pass out from it all. his feet shift in front of you, and all you can do is curl in on yourself, clutching to your clothes and press your thighs together in an attempt to ease the ache building between them. the pain that in an instant reaches from the top of your head down to the soles of your feet, making even them blister and throb.

“you’re so pathetic.” he mumbles, nudging your shoulder up with his socked foot. “you’re just gonna sit there and hump my floor?”

you let the tears fall, stop holding in the sobs you’ve been trying to keep silent. you want to think about how wrong you were, how you truly thought you could trust keigo, touya even. but tomura was right, all along he was warning you without even talking to you. you want to cry and to curse them but you can’t, your mind is clouded over with lust and it’s taking everything in you not to stick your hand in your pants right there like some kind of deviant.

“say it and i’ll help you.” he pushes up harder with his foot, forcing you to sit upright, to look at him. the light from the kitchen illuminates behind him, and from here he looks the same as every single murderer in every scary movie you’ve ever seen. as much as you want to feel even the smallest bit of creeped out, embarrassed, or even to reject his shitty offer. you can’t, your body won’t let you be rational. it fights against everything you know is right.

“s-say what?” you try to steady your breathing, hiccuping as tears still stream down your face.

“that you’re pathetic, stupid, i’m not picky.” he shrugs, rubbing one of his eyes as he looks down at you expectantly.

“i’m.. pathetic.” you say it, admit it easily, because even now with a half empty mind you know it's true.

without word, the same foot that pushed you up, presses against the side of the same shoulder forcing your body to the floor. you allow it, not complaining even when the flat of his foot lands between your shoulder blades to press your chest down. he props your hips up and works your bottoms down without speaking, which is probably for the best. there’s no way anything he could say would make you feel better about this situation or the fact that he’s the one ‘helping’ you through it.

it seems to worsen the second that your sex is exposed to the air, your whole body rushing with what feels like molten lava in your viens.

you push against his touch the second it slides along your slit, moaning loudly into the plush of the carpet. it earns you a slap with the back of his hand against your skin but it only plays further into your pleasure, which makes him huff behind you. the need for something more—anything more overwhelms you and you start to beg mindlessly, truly, because you don’t know what the fuck is falling from your tongue, only that your mouth is infact moving.

“shut up.” shigaraki grunts from behind you. “so fucking annoying.” he’d probably been trying to prep you, to give you some kind of mercy, but then again he could’ve just been attempting to tease you. either way, he cuts it short, shifting behind you and pushing the tip of him against your already fluttering entrance. his free hand comes down to where his foot had been, pressing flat between your shoulder blades to keep you in place.

he gives you no grace as to ease it in. your hands claw at the carpet as he shoves all that he can in with one thrust, nails digging into your skin come with the sharp breath the both of you let out. you’re nothing more than a body, than the euphoria you feel with each push of his hips to force his cock fully in, than the sound that slips from your mouth beneath him. you can tell with each movement tomura is doing this for himself and couldn’t care less about how you feel, doesn’t even think about how thick he is. doesn’t care if the stretch from him burns, if it makes you cry or hurt—and if he does, it’s because that’s what he wants.

but that thought alone makes you clamp around him, forcing a small sound from his chest. you can feel your slick along the insides of your thighs when he finally presses his hips fully against your ass, you know it has to be dripping down the base of him to his balls. you’ll blame it on the foggy state of your consciousness but it makes your mouth water, the thought of him using you for his own pleasure. the smallest hint of him being attracted to you well enough to get off to you despite him being so indifferent about you before. it makes you hungry in a way that probably can’t be blamed on whatever drug your so-called-friends slipped into your drink.

you pull your hips away from his before pushing back once again, drawing another sound out of you both. the hand digging into your spine drags its nails to your hips, the other finding its way there to grip you at both sides as you fuck yourself back onto him. with each push you feel his hips cant forwards the tiniest bit to meet yours, and it sends pride throughout you. not to mention the feeling of him easing the all consuming ache with each stretch of him that he allows you.

his hands move from their position to grip at your ass, crescent claws digging into the soft there as he spreads your cheeks and takes control of your pace. it’s as rough as you’d expect from him, you’re sure you’re going to be bleeding with the way he forces your movements with his hold on you. you scramble to hold onto the carpet when he moves slightly, no doubt accidentally, and the tip of him prods against that spot inside you that has you losing your mind.

“oh god, fuck-fuck-” slips out, you’re actually able to catch that one.

“shut the fuck up.” he replies, voice strained. and suddenly you can hear the panting, it’s loud and fills the room right alongside the sound of his balls smacking against your skin. he feels good, it’s so obvious when he speaks.

“feels s’good,” you slur out again when he adds even more speed to his thrusts. “s’good, thank you, thank you.”

“shut up, shut up.” his voice comes out as a moan this time. one of his hands comes down just above your ass, pushing your hips flat to the floor and he moves his knees on either side of your thighs.

“s’close, please-” is all you’re able to get out before his palm is over your lips.

“just fuckin’ take it and shut up.” he hisses in your ear as his body lays over your own. you can feel him panting now, against the juncture of your neck. “they’re so fuckin’ dumb.” he mumbles, groaning when his movements become sporadic, clearly nearing the edge as you start to clamp down on him.

a few more pushes against your soft, warm, sticky walls, and you can’t keep the blurry coffee table in your sight. your eyes roll back as hot static forces its way through your veins and up your spine. the twitch of his cock inside of you only adding to it, the spill of his seed on the other hand seems to pull you out of it and only the small sounds of his whimper keep you in place. it was something beyond the bliss of an orgasm to hear such a stiff man moaning for you.

it’s soft then, his cock as he pulls it out, and his movements. he tucks himself back in his pants without bothering to clean himself, but for you, he strips away your bottoms before helping you up and to the door to his room. you want to finally be rational now that you have the means. you want to go home and wash tonight off of you. to leave and never come near tomura’s roommates ever again. but when he tosses you down on his bed and comes back from the bathroom that you had no clue that he had in his room, to give you the rag to clean yourself, you decided against it. maybe, you should just sleep.

you pass out the second he gestures you to actually lay down, the look of annoyance back on his face when he does so. and you’re fast asleep by the time there’s a jingle of keys at the door, neither of them speak as they come in to find their roommate on the couch, fingers fiddling away at the console controller. though if you were there to look at them, you would see how keigo’s eyes instantly darted over to your empty drink. and how touya’s mouth immediately twists up in annoyance.

“she wasn’t at her place.” touya says, falling down beside his friend. “thought you said the pills that guy had would’ve had her like putty.”

“bad info.” he shrugs, shooting the last kill on his game before looking over at the blonde still standing. “got somethin’ to say?”

“what happened to the drink?” keigo asks, but the crack in tomura’s door is more than enough to see the figure laying in the bed.

“oh, right,” shigaraki takes his focus back to the tv and uses one hand to switch screens, holding the other out, palm up. “i won.”

repost from my old blog <3

[lunarfleur]

Kei Tsukishima General Headcanons

Warnings:None!

A/N: this marks the beginning of me making my returning Haikyuu obsession everyone else’s problem 🙏🏻

He’s near sighted (?)

^ can’t see anything unless it’s right in front of his face (I think that’s near sighted but idk)

Used to have an obsession with dinosaurs as a kid and retained all the information as he got older

The dinosaur figurines are from when he was a kid

The type of guy to hold on to things for memories (he has several memory boxes tucked away in his closet)

We know he’s really smart but he doesn’t read all that often because it wears his eyes out

He sticks to magazines and manga because it’s easier

Loves cardigans and sweaters as much as hoodies but he doesn’t really wear them outside his house

Actually has a really big family (like a lot of cousins and aunts and uncles)

His dad died a couple years after he was born

It doesn’t bother him all that much because he doesn’t really remember him, but it’s upsetting when he spends father’s day at the cemetery with his mom and brother

He gets random waves of sadness when he remembers that his mom lost her husband and raised two sons (basically) alone

He has so much appreciation for his mom, he’s a different person when he’s with her

He’s far from fluent, but Tsuki’s quite good at speaking English

Could hold a decent conversation if needed

He listens to quite a bit of foreign music because he thinks it makes English easier

Tsuki doesn’t wear cologne but he smells good anyway (good hygiene is a must)

He just smells clean idk

Tsuki can’t really lie down on his couch comfortably because it’s just barely his size

Has trouble finding t-shirts that don’t swallow him whole because he’s so skinny

He doesn’t drink soda but loves juices and teas

No nickname pisses him off more than “four eyes”

He spent a long time disliking the way he looked with glasses

He actually doesn’t hate Yachi, he’s very respectful towards her

Doesn’t have too much of a ‘type’ but Tsuki prefers smart girls because he likes being able to have (mature) debates with people

And he’d prefer someone who is completely dependent on him

He’s not really picky with anything else, though. His mom taught him to understand that there’s different types of beauty

Normally has cold hands

And he gets cold super easily so he cranks up his heater in the winter

I think that’s it!

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny covered his nose with his hand. Where ever he landed smelled absolutely foul, like rotten fruit and burning tires mixed with chem lab.

"Remind me to bring a face mask the next time I explore the Infinite Realms." He muttered, before kicking a soda can down the alley he was in and being repulsed by the squelch sound it made when it came into contact with a very questionable looking puddle, "Better yet, a gas mask." He glanced at the puddle again, "Or I could go full Hazmat." Clockwork had told him this world was full of superheros and villians and to steer clear of it, but once he learned there were aliens in this world he couldn't help himself. Danny had always been weak to his curiosity, but he liked to believe he was cautious, and chose to stay in his Phantom for for added protection.

Turning on his heel he exited onto a deserted street lined on one side by a chain-link fence. The sky above him was filled with clouds so ominous and dark that Danny honestly couldn't tell you if it was night or day, all he knew was that it was going to rain soon and hopefully these awful smells would be drowned out by the downpour.

Danny got his wish only minutes later. Thankfully Phantom was unbothered by the cold and could just bask in the rain as it fell apon him. A lesser known fact about ghosts is that thier clothes are made from thier ectoplasm and are part of thier bodies, much like a second layer of skin, so one would be able to feel things on thier clothes as easily as they would with thier bare skin. The level of sensitivity varies with the type of clothing however. All this to say Danny loved the feeling of the rivulets of rainwater traveling down his ghostly hazmat suit.

He was so preoccupied with enjoying the sensation that he didn't notice anything was wrong until he was jolted forward from the weight of someone landing on his back. The person was quick and precise, taking no time at all to have his wrists pinned behind his back and- weirdly enough- thier teeth digging into the material around his neck.

His parents designed the Hazmat suit Danny was wearing not only to deal with dangerous chemicals, but to fight supernatural foes. The area around the neck was reinforced with the intention of protecting against fatal gunshots and decapitations so naturally someone's jaw wasn't going to be enough to break through to his neck.

Danny let out a laugh as the person kept chewing on his neck like a confused puppy. Oh, Danny thought, they've gone feral. It was odd for someone to go feral but it could occur when a person has gone through something traumatic recently or through extreme stress. It made sense since the person ridding piggy back on him was dressed like a superhero. Danny wondered if that was why the person didn't have a scent. Danny learns facepalmed when he remembered that scentblockers existed and not everyone's scent dramatically changed whenever they went out as a hero. The scent change was probably one of the few things that have kept him alive up to this point to be honest.

"So, I guess you're not going to tell me why you're chewing on my neck like the worlds most pathetic vampire, are you?" No one deserves that title more than the fruitloop to be honest. He made a mental note to use that one against Vlad the next time he saw him.

Chewy whined at this, seeming to slump a bit from the apparent failure to bite him. What was that about? Was this actually a vampire? How would a vampire even react to Dannys ecto-blood combo meal anyway? Would it be like food poisoning? Or would it taste amazing from one undead to another. "I'm not exactly human, are you sure you wanna bite me? I might not taste so good." Danny warned, but the moment he mentioned letting the person bite him they were eager again.

Danny chuckled and unzipped the material only a bit before it was loose enough to move out of the way. The vampires bite came with a sharp pain like he expected but there was no suction. No drinking of blood. Just some weirdo biting Danny on the neck. Huh.

Danny hoped he didn't get rabies from this.

He must have accidentally said that out loud as there was a small laugh from the rooftops above them. There stood another person in a superhero outfit with some really tall dude dressed as a giant bat, and that was when Danny decided to bail. It was one thing to let a maybe vampire bite you in a random street in the middle of the night but more of them? And ones a big scary furry? Hard pass.

Phantom did as Phantoms do and went invisible and intangible, escaping from Biteys jaws and startling the heros. He ignored the distressed whine Munchy let out after loosing their spookyest chew toy and quickly rubbed the scent gland near dannys jaw on the top of thier head as an act of comfort before bolting.

----

Danny poked at the bite mark on his neck. Screw rabies, he better not get turned into a werewolf. He didn't need that on top of his ghostly crap. Sam seemed fascinated by the mark, after all, it wasn't every day that Danny got a scar, especially one so obvious. Most injuries heal quickly and leave no trace of him ever being injured in the first place which helped a lot in keeping his secret identity.

Luckily Danny hadn't needed to lie to mom and dad. He truthfully told them about some wierdo jumping off of a nearby rooftop and plunging thier teeth into his neck and that two other people had tried to corner him during this. He assured his mom that he had gotten away quickly but was a little shaken by it and his dad praised him for being brave and managing to escape.

That was nice. But he still had to figure out what was up with this bite...and why he felt so compelled to go back to that city.

Back to that hero.

-----

Aka an A/B/O au where in Danny's universe all the Alphas are extinct and the betas followed soon after and the DC universe all the Omegas went extinct and betas followed after . Not like a "they finally went extinct in the 1700s after centuries of thier numbers dwindling" thing and became a myth/fairytale (tho I like that too) but a "this might be the missing link between cave men and modern humans" kinda thing.

Its up to you which bat bit Danny and exactly what that means. I love abo aus without smut cause there's so much potential for chaos and I am very much ace.

[frankenkyle19]

The Twinkie Thief

Peter Maximoff x fan!reader smut

word count: 8.4k!!

warnings/description: Smut, handjobs, oral (male and fem receiving), Use of peter’s powers in bed, hair pulling, begging, Peter being a cocky brat, teasing. Reader hosts a college party and a certain speedster stops by trying to steal some twinkies… Enjoy!

You’d been planning this party for months. Well- okay not months, maybe like… a few weeks, but in your defense it sure felt longer than that. It was your first time hosting a college party, despite being in your third year. You shared an apartment with three of your friends just off of campus. Having roommates wasn’t always great, but it made the rent cheap and that obviously made it well worth it. You were a broke college student and you definitely didn’t make enough money to rent your own apartment. It was a three level house. With a main floor, an upstairs, and a downstairs. The basement had been transformed into a little hangin’ cave where you were currently setting up the chips and drinks for the party, trying to distract yourself and keep your buzzing nerves at bay.

Doritos, pretzels, tortilla chips and salsa, various sodas and punch as well as alcohol sat on the table. Beer, vodka, all the cheap shit you could buy at the nearest gas station. It didn’t need to be good, college kids didn’t care for good alcohol, they just needed it to get them drunk. Especially at a party. 

You weren’t sure who all would come to the party and a bubble of anxiety slowly built up inside you. What if no one showed up? Currently you were home alone because your roommates were all out doing their own thing and would be coming home much later. That’s why you had decided to have the party, but now? What if some creepy pervert dude was the first to arrive and you were forced to hang out with him until the next person came? You tried your best to ignore the screaming in the back of your mind as you finished setting up, taking a handful of chips to eat as you made your way back up the stairs. 

The house was modern and sparsely decorated but still homey. You’d luckily put away anything valuable or breakable because god forbid something gets broken. 

As time went on you came to the realization that maybe this wasn’t the best idea… but it was too late to go back now. Surely it’d be fine. How bad could it be?

You finished the handful of chips right as the first knock of the night sounded through the house, causing you to jump a bit before making your way towards the door, just praying it wasn’t some creep. 

And luckily, it wasn’t. 

It was a group of three younger college girls, all smiling brightly the second the door was open. They didn’t say much to you as they scurried inside the house, out of the cold as they shivered a bit. They led themselves downstairs, talking amongst themselves and not really paying you any mind at all. Wow. Kinda rude. 

Soon the pace started picking up and in no time the basement was full of chatter and bodies as people laughed and drank, talking about the latest gossip. 

You’d long since abandoned your post at the door, figuring people would let themselves in, and they did exactly that. 

You had made your way downstairs, a drink in hand as you looked at the crowd. It was a good turnout, nearly every corner of the dimly lit room was occupied by groups of people talking about one thing or another, sipping from solo cups and snacking on mini pretzels and Doritos. The sight had you smiling. This was going exactly how you wanted it.

To be honest, you weren’t a super social person but one thing you did enjoy was people watching. So seeing all the different people here made for a fun activity. Hearing whispers of conversations, not able to make out much as other noises drowned out the words into a jumbled mess of sounds. You were planning on just sitting in a corner, sipping your drink for the rest of the night as you kept a close eye on the party goers, making sure they didn’t break anything. 

That’s how it went for a few hours. You sipped at your  drink, going in and out of the basement to get refills on chips and ice for the drinks every so often. Overall, it was a success. 

On one of these trips upstairs to get a break from the crowd and the noise, you caught the shadow of what appeared to be a man in your kitchen. Unease settled over you like a dark storm cloud as you crept closer to the kitchen, back up against the wall as you swallowed hard, heartbeat uneven and frantic.

You knew it was most likely someone from the party who had either gotten there late, or had snuck upstairs. Maybe he needed a break. Just like you. But the idea of a random man in your kitchen, which, keep in mind, was dark, made you uneasy. 

You crept to the entrance of the kitchen, hand moving slowly towards the light switch, ready to bolt back downstairs if you were in any danger. 

The man froze when you flicked the light on, bathing him in the yellow light. And that’s when you saw it..

It wasn’t some random creeper that had snuck into your kitchen and was waiting for everyone else to leave so he could like- kill you- 

It was a certain silver haired mutant superhero that you may or may not have had a small (huge) obsession with. 

Peter Maximoff… aka Quicksilver. 

Okay rewind- what in the fresh hell was Peter Maximoff doing in your kitchen? 

You both just stood still, staring at each other unblinking, each waiting for the other to say or do something. 

Peter had an armful of little, wrapped cake snacks that had been quite literally stolen from your pantry, giving you a shy, remorseful smile. 

“Uh… Hi-” Peter said, swallowing hard as he set the snacks on the counter with an embarrassing grin. 

You just blinked a few times, unable to think of any words. What does someone say in this situation? When a literal superhero was stealing snacks from your kitchen. Nothing in your life had ever prepared you for this..

“I- Hi?” You said, an eyebrow quirked as you took in the look of the man in front of you. Yup it really was him. Not just some creep dressed as him. He was the real deal. 

“You can uh- you can take anything you want… Mr. Maximoff” You said with a shy smile, playing with your hands as you tried to keep calm. 

Peter blinked in surprise. Oh. So you knew exactly who he was. Great. Of course you did. That made this even more embarrassing. A superhero sneaking into a party to steal some cake snacks? He would never live this down if anyone else found out.

“No I just- uh- was just- organizing… the pantry. It was a bit messy..” he said, trying to lie his way out of the situation. 

“Mhm. Yeah okay.” You put your hands on your hips, shaking your head. You didn’t believe that lie for one second and the thought of a silver haired speedster trying to get away with a lie despite being caught red (silver?) handed made you chuckle. 

“Okay okay ya got me- I’m a thief-“ he raised his hands over his head in surrender, sighing in defeat. The gig was up. 

You raised a brow, watching him curiously. He was so… Down to earth? You weren’t sure what you expected, but it wasn’t that. He didn’t act like a famous person… he just acted… Normal. Maybe you were a bit naive as to what someone like Peter should act like, but he was definitely much different than what you had imagined. In a good way of course.

And it didn’t help with your obsession with him. You almost wanted him to be rude or full of himself. It’d be easier to get over this little (big) obsession with him. But no. Of course he had to be perfect. 

“It’s okay- if you want one you can have it- really-“ you said, taking a few more steps into the kitchen, the background music from downstairs making the silence between the two of you seem not so awkward. 

Peter didn’t waste any time after that. He snatched a Twinkie off the counter and unwrapped it before shoving half of it into his mouth, some of the cream smearing on the sides of his mouth. If it was anyone else, it would be kinda gross, but because it was him, it was endearing. 

“So why exactly are you… Here?” You asked and Peter held up a finger to signal to let him finish chewing the snack cake before he began to explain.

“I heard about a party goin’ on here and thought hey, I’m sure there’s snacks. So I came. And I was right.” He shook the other half of the Twinkie that was in his hands before shoving it into his mouth, tossing the wrapper into the trash can and wiping off his fingers on his silver jacket. 

“Okay but the party is downstairs-“

“I didn’t think you’d mind if I just took a few.” He interrupted, already on his way to opening another hostess snack. 

He was bold. Very bold. And pretty cocky too. A drastic change from how he was acting just a few minutes ago. All shy and apologetic. Was that just a hoax? A trick? 

“I mean- I don’t- but it’s not just every day when I get a superhero in my kitchen.” 

“So you rent this place? It’s pretty bangin’ I gotta say.”

“I have roommates. But they aren’t here right now.” Why did that sound so suggestive? Jesus Christ…

Peter nodded, looking around the kitchen and examining it now that the light was on, leaning against the marble counter.

“So this is your party then I take it?” He asked, eyebrow quirked as he turned back to face you. It was weird making eye contact with the speedster just because you never expected to actually be this close to him. 

“Mhm, my first college party actually..” you said a bit shyly. He was trying to keep up a conversation with you… but why? Did he actually care? Possibly?

“First?”

“Well the first one I’ve hosted I mean- I’ve- I’ve been to lots of parties before-“ you paused “not like a lot a lot! I’m not like a crazy party person- I have…” you wanted to bang your head against the wall.

“I’ve gone to the normal amount of parties that a college person does.” You said, a blush dusting over your cheeks. Way to embarrass yourself in front of your crush. Your superhero crush at that…

“Coolio- and hey, between us, I don’t judge. I like party girls.” Peter winked. 

Your brain has just short circuited. Either you were delusional or the man was flirting with you. The way he winked? There was no way. 

You gawked at him for a moment before chuckling “yeah, hah… parties are pretty fun- you go to them often?” You asked curiously, trying to not be so fucking awkward.

“Eh, depends. When I’m free I usually just zoom in to steal some snacks- which was exactly what I was doing before you caught me.”

“Okay well the party snacks are downstairs. At the party.” You said, sarcasm dripping from your tone and it caused Peter to grin. He liked your attitude. Feisty. Just the way he liked his women. Not that he… No.. He totally wasn’t attracted to some random quicksilver fan.. Not at all. There had to be some sort of moral rule against that. 

Except… He was. He was totally and utterly attracted to you. 

Holy shit. He was truly and utterly fucked. Done for. Game is up, time to go- before he royally ruined this whole interaction.

But yet, he couldn’t get his mouth to just shut up. 

“Y’know what, I like ya. You’re down to earth, chill. Totally unfazed that I’m in yer kitchen right now.” 

You shook your head, looking up to meet his eye and trying not to get too lost in his sweet syrupy brown gaze. 

“Well I mean- I am- I’m just good at hiding it.” You admitted, tucking a bit of your hair behind your ear, an obvious thing you did when you were nervous.

Peter subtly, with his super speed, looked you over, trying not to make it too obvious that he was staring, but who wouldn’t? You were… Geesh words couldn’t even describe the way Peter felt when he saw you. His literal dream girl, and you were interested in him? At least wanting to talk to him… not like… romantically or anything crazy like that.

But you were. You were both acting pretty dumb at the moment, dancing around the sexual tension that literally anyone could cut with a knife. How did it happen that the two of you were so damn oblivious? It’s like the universe was holding up a big sign that said “Fuck Already!” And somehow the two of you were both blind.

Peter stretched his hands over his head, revealing a sliver of silver hairs that led under his waistband to-

No. You needed to get your mind out of the gutter. There was no way Quicksilver out of anyone was going to fuck you. No way. Not in a million years.

Peter zipped around the kitchen and for a moment you thought he’d left, until the breeze and silver settled and you saw him, now much closer than he was before.  

He was uncomfortably close, but you were… Okay with it. In fact you wanted him close to you. It had made your heartbeat speed up in your chest and your cheeks reden. 

You felt his breath on your neck and it made your hair stand on end, goosebumps erupting across your flesh as you turned to face him.

He was taller than you, but your faces were only several inches apart, the feeling of his breath hit you, the leftover smell of the Twinkie he’d devoured a few minutes ago hitting your nose.

You blinked a few times, unsure of what to do or what to say. I mean… What do you do in a situation like this? You’d never experienced it before and doubted you ever would again. 

Peter glanced down at you, unblinking as he watched you before he spoke up

“Want a drink?” He asked, swallowing hard as he gestured to the rest of the alcohol that you hadn’t brought down to the party yet.

The tension was getting impossibly thicker between the two of you, a heat seeming to fall off of Peter in thick waves, filling the air. It was addicting.

You nodded, still not speaking as you watched him zip back around the kitchen, barely able to make out his outline as bottles shifted and moved from their places.

He was so… Interesting and you wondered what it was like to be able to move that fast. Did he have full control over it? Did he sometimes go too fast? Had he ever hurt himself by speeding around the way he did? These were all questions you longed to be answered but were too shy to ask. 

A few more seconds of him zooming around the kitchen and he was next to you again, holding a drink in either hand. You weren’t really sure what was in it, but you trusted he hadn’t done anything suspicious. I mean he was a superhero- superheroes didn’t like- drug drinks… Right?

“Here, it’s a sex on the beach- or well, my attempt at one. You didn’t have all the ingredients so I had to substitute a few things.”

By a few things did he mean everything? You’d had plenty of these drinks before and none of them ever looked the way the drink he held out to you did. It looked (smelled) like the only ingredient the two drinks had in common was vodka.

Still, you took the glass from him and smiled, taking a sip. It wasn’t horrible, he hadn’t added a lot of alcohol so it was mostly a mixer, but still you’d had plenty worse before.

He sipped his own drink, watching you over the rim of the glass, waiting to see how you’d react.

“Decent.” You shrugged, taking another sip.

Peter laughed in disbelief “Just decent babe? Wow, I’m offended.” He placed a hand on his heart dramatically and shook his head.

You were about to laugh when it dawned on you what he’d called you just now. Babe. Uhm.. pause. What? Why had he called you that? Did he call everyone that? Surely he did… Don’t get your hopes up so quickly. He was just being friendly.

You ignore it, giving him a friendly smile before taking another sip of your drink. Maybe it’d be nice to get drunk but you’d surely make a fool of yourself. You were already well on the way to doing that.

“So- you were really just in the neighborhood and decided to stop by?” You asked, swirling the remaining drink around, watching it slosh inside the glass.

Peter set his drink down on the counter, leaning against it as he nodded “Yup, could tell it was a party from a mile off so I decided to see what was goin’ on. Glad I did, you’re good company.” He grinned.

“I was honestly having a pretty boring night before you got here.” You admitted, setting your own half finished drink down close to his before glancing back at him. You were beginning to let your guard down and it made Peter smile.

“Aw I'm flattered that I’m the reason you’re havin’ a good time now.” He grinned, full of himself and cocky as ever. 

You rolled your eyes playfully at him, shaking your head as you wrapped your arms around yourself, glancing around the kitchen.

“So uh- m’not usually like this but-“ He was blushing again… Quicksilver was blushing because of you? What was he trying to say that made his cheeks turn the color of ripe tomatoes?

“I’m catchin’ a vibe off ya. Y’know the whole fan thing- I just-“ He shook his head, bringing a hand down over his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he let out a sigh. Dammit Quickie, ruined it again from your big mouth.

At least… He thought he’d ruined it, and was so distracted by embarrassment that he hadn’t even noticed you’d stepped closer to him, standing right in front of him and staring up at him.

“Yeah, I’m sure I’m giving off that vibe-“ you took a deep breath and decided to continue, making a bolder choice of words. It was now or never.

“Not everyday you meet the person you dream about fucking every night.” You were only half teasing him, hoping you’d be able to play it off as a joke if it went the wrong way. 

Peter’s eyes were wide as he stared down at you and finally he made a good choice that night, leaning down to capture your lips with his own.

It took you several seconds to process but when you did, you nearly squealed with joy.

He tasted sweet like twinkies and just… Him. There was no other way to explain it really.

You kissed back for several seconds before pulling away to look up at him, eyes wide.

“Holy shit.” You whispered, glancing around the room once more to make sure no one had walked in on the two of you.

Peter, unbothered, leaned down to capture your lips once more, never wanting to stop kissing you. He deepened the kiss, a hand reaching out to rest on your shoulder as he pulled you closer, a quiet moan slipping from his lips which caused him to blush even further.

He pulled you closer to him, a bit of urgency in his movements as he panted against your lips, worked up from the slightest bit of kissing.

“Quicksilver- n-not here we can’t. There’s people downstairs-“ you said, a surprised gasp leaving your throat as he started to plant kisses to your neck, wrapping his arms around your waist to lock you in place.

“Tell ‘em to go. I need ya-“ he said, nipping ever so slightly at your collarbone as his hips connected with yours, his hard on brushing your leg.

“Okay okay okay slow down- is this really happening?” You asked, Peter never once stopping his assault on your neck, leaving marks that would surely result in bruises the next day.

“So fuckin’ real baby. I want it- if you do too-“ He added, his hands adventuring up the small of your back in an attempt to explore more of your body.

“Ya tellin’ me you don’t wanna clown around with yer favorite superhero?” He breathed against your neck, closing his eyes as he inhaled deeply, wanting to memorize this moment.

“I do! I do want to- very very badly I just-there’s so many people downstairs- I don’t know what to do about that.” You said, reveling in the way his hot breath fanned across your skin.

“I’ve got an idea-“ He mumbled “just tell ‘em the cops are coming and they gotta clear out. Easy peasy baby, then we got the whole place to ourselves.” He grinned against your skin, much too eager for this.

“You think that’ll work?”

“Worth a shot at least.” He shrugged, groaning as you pulled away from him to face the basement door, ready to barge down there and tell everyone to leave. You’d do whatever you needed to to get Peter alone. 

Peter, as impatient as he was, didn’t wait for you to handle it and instead zoomed downstairs in a blur and several moments later people were running up the stairs, drinks in hand, obviously caught up in the moment and not expecting the news that police were going to be there any second.

The last person up the stairs was Peter himself, grinning from ear to ear, obviously proud that his plan had worked and the two of you were now alone. The second the last guest had scurried out the door, the threat of police crashing the party more than enough to get their drunk asses moving, peter pulled you into a bruising kiss, arching his hips against yours to try and get any desperately needed friction on his aching cock confined in the fabric prison that was his pants and boxers. He’d never wanted to be naked more in his entire life. Okay- maybe he had- but right now he felt as if he hadn’t. 

Your tongues fought for dominance and you inevitably won, backing Peter up against the kitchen counter before sinking to your knees. You were not wasting a second. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity and with just how fast Peter moved, you weren’t sure how long you’d realistically have him here for. How often did you get to meet your idol and fuck him? The thought made your head spin. Like holy shit? Holy fucking shit. 

“Woahhh mama-“ Peter ran a large hand over his face, his dark pupils blown so wide that his eyes were nearly black as he watched you, his brain still trying to grasp the situation in which he was in. A quicksilver fan getting on their knees in front of him? Holy shit, someone pinch him. There was just no way this was actually happening. Like in all the years of his life he had never experienced something like this. Despite what some may think, Peter didn’t get laid a lot. He either didn’t have the time, or didn’t have the charm. And he was sure that realistically, this could have some serious repercussions.. Having sex with a fan? There weren’t any laws against that, right? Right? Fuck it, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. Especially not with how eager you were.

You pulled his pants down to his knees, instantly scooting closer and mouthing over the cotton of his boxers, your tongue tracing the large length of him as he mewled above you pathetically. He was hot against you as you nuzzled your cheek against the length of him, a string of pre-cum leaked through his boxers and stained your cheek with a sticky, opaque fluid. 

“Holy shit- can’t believe this is actually happening to me right now-“ he mumbled, hands going behind him to  clutch the cold, marble counter his back was up against. Thank god for it. His legs were so shaky he was barely able to keep himself up and the embarrassing thing was you hadn’t even really done anything yet. Keep it together dude.

You pulled his boxers down in one quick motion, his cock springing to full attention now that it had been freed. He was hard as a rock, twitching and throbbing red, pre-cum spilling from the tip as it bobbed in the air, right in front of your face. Peter inhaled sharply at the cold air against his bare cock, but the second your warm hand wrapped around him? He was a goner. Total goner. Like thank the gods above? It felt sooo fucking good. Like… Too good.

“O-oh geez-“ He involuntarily jutted his hips into your touch, causing his cock to slide through the tight grip of your fingers with how slick it had become. 

You made eye contact with the speedster above you before leaning closer, licking over the head of his cock, collecting the pearl of pre-cum that had leaked from the slit, dripping down the side. 

He was salty and a bit bitter, but the sheer fact that you were getting to taste the Peter Maximoff’s cock made any disgust you may have initially had fly right out the damn window. 

Peter’s knees buckled the slightest bit, thighs quivering as he watched you with a kind of intensity and focus he didn’t even know he possessed. So he could focus. Just… only on things he really wanted to. Hah… As long as you didn’t tell any of the other X-men that. 

You continued your exploration of the speedy mutant's cock, pressing gentle feather light kisses to the head of his cock, which you soon learned was extremely sensitive.

“Mmm- please! Gentle! It’s so sensitive, baby!” He yelped, writhing in place as his knuckles turned white from how hard he was gripping the countertop.

You ignored his requests, wanting to see just how worked up you could get him, your tongue tracing around the bulbous head several times before dipping into the slit, causing Peter to wince in overstimulation. You took this as a sign to pull back a bit, instead taking the whole tip into your mouth, sucking on it like a lollipop, flattening your tongue on the underside as you hummed.

Peter spiraled even more. The way you looked up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently as you suckled on his cock? When was he going to wake up? Because there was just really no way that this was actually happening. It had to be a dream. 

“A-mmgh- shit-“ he groaned out, running a hand through his now damp with sweat silver hair, slicking it back in a way that was more attractive than you’d like to admit. 

You slowly took more of him into your mouth, inhaling through your nose so you didn’t choke, and soon enough you had fully engulfed him before pulling back, gagging a bit as the tip hit the back of your throat. A string of spit connected your lips to the head of his cock and Peter nearly came right then and there at the sight, hips subconsciously humping the air as he threw his head back, Adam's apple bobbing.

“God baby- this is so fucking unbelievably good- god damn-“ he panted, babbling words as his hips arched upwards in search of your mouth once more. You pulled back from him completely, watching as his throbbing red cock bobbed in the air between you two, desperate and aching for whatever you planned to do next.

Peter inhaled a deep breath, straightening up a bit as he got a better grip on the counter, some of his damp silver hair falling back over his forehead.

Coming back to stroke him with your hand, Peter’s hips jerked once more, biting his bottom lip between his teeth in an attempt to stay quiet, despite not needing to. It was just the two of you alone in the house. He could be as loud as he wanted.

“Really? That’s all ya got, speedy? Tiny little whimpers? C’mon I want to hear more.” You surprised yourself with your boldness, and it obviously surprised Peter too by the way that he nodded, letting his lip fall from between his teeth as a pleasured sigh left him. It was finally sinking in that this was really happening to him. He was getting head from a super mega quickie fan. And damn you were good at it. Too good. Or maybe Peter was just that desperate. It was honestly a little embarrassing but you obviously didn’t care so he didn’t either.

You stroked him with increasing speed, thumbing gently over the tip and collecting the pre-cum on the pad of your thumb before bringing it up to your lips and licking off the glossy liquid. Peter groaned, cursing under his breath at the sight below him, a hand coming to brush through your hair gently, giving him something to do to keep his hands busy.

“Can’t believe this is happening. I’m actually getting to do this to the Quicksilver-“ You shook your head, still in a state of disbelief 

“Y’can call me Peter y’know- please-“ He chuckled breathily, hand still gripping your hair as he tried to subconsciously pull your head closer to his length, a quiet mumbled plea coming from his red lips. Okay. Noted. Peter. 

“More- please? Feels so good, baby- feels so fucking great-“ He pleaded with you, giving you the cutest puppy dog eyes. You didn’t take him for a begger, but you were definitely not complaining. And of course who were you to deny him? He did so much good for the world, he’d literally helped save it multiple times, hadn’t he? He deserved this, plus, his taste was addicting. Manly and a bit salty in a way that had your pussy throbbing in your underwear. 

You took him into your mouth again, suckling on the tip before going further once more, suctioning your lips around his length, dragging your tongue on the underside of his cock, tracing the prominent vein that was found there. 

Peter tossed his head back once more, closing his eyes as he moaned, this time a bit louder than before. It made you smile around his cock.

You continued your exploration of his cock, bobbing your head up and down before focusing on the tip for a few moments and then repeating over and over and over-

Peter was growing increasingly worked up, chest heaving up and down heavily, cock beginning to twitch in your mouth as you gagged on him, tearing up as you inhaled through your nose.

“I’m close! F-fuck!” He groaned out, hips bucking farther into your mouth as he gripped your hair a bit tighter, causing you to let out a whine and choke even more around him, tears falling onto your cheeks, mascara smudging under your eyes as you swallowed around him.

That was all he needed to cum hard down your throat in heavy ropes of thick white, his hips jutting forward harshly, causing him to slide even further into your mouth and down your throat.

“Fuck! Shitttt!” He cursed, gasping as he shuddered, thighs shaking as he fought to keep himself up right. Damn. He hadn’t came that hard in… Well he couldn’t even remember when. But it had been a long time. Too long.

You pulled back, the biggest gag yet coming from you, the feeling of his cock so deep in your throat and his cum filling the back of your mouth causing you to retch. You held onto his thighs as you tried to catch your breath, wheezing heavily, head bowed as you attempted to swallow all his release. Dear god, he came a lot. Maybe it had something to do with his mutant powers, or maybe it was just the fact that he came a lot. Either way it amazed you.

Once Peter caught his own breath and calmed down enough to come back to his senses, he glanced down at you with a worried look, watching you attempt to catch your breath. 

“Shit- you okay? Sorry I- kinda lost control- I’m so sorry-“ he apologized, worried he’d ruined the whole moment by not being able to control his damn hips. A crimson flush covered his cheeks as he looked away, embarrassed. Great. His one chance to get laid had been ruined by his actions. Like everything else in his life.

“Peter-“ your voice was a bit hoarse as you swallowed hard, wiping the corners of your mouth as you stood up, dusting off your thighs as you cupped his cheek.

Peter’s attention was on you again in an instant, tilting his head ever so slightly into your palm. Peter was touch starved. Extremely so, but it was something he wouldn’t ever admit. Not that he really needed to, it was pretty obvious. 

“I’m okay. It’s okay, you don’t have to apologize. It was actually really fucking hot. Watching you lose control like that.” You blushed softly at your own words, giving him a shy smile despite being so bold in your previous actions.

Peter was quiet for several moments and if anyone walked in on the two of you right then, they’d see you standing in front of Peter, and Peter, pants down, leaning against the countertop as he stared at you longingly.

“Uh- anyway I can return the favor?” He asked, large hands coming to hold your hips, a subtle buzz seeming to come from his body. Specifically from his hands. It made you shiver, your already wet panties seeming to soak even more at his words that were dripping with lust. You were much too curious about those hands of his and what they could do. Especially with that power…

You pulled him into a kiss, practically jumping on him as he pulled you up, your legs wrapping around his waist as you made out with the silver haired man. Honestly, if someone came up to you and told you this was how this night was going to end, you wouldn’t believe it. Not one bit, but the fact that it was actually happening? That this wasn’t a dream? You were fucking around with someone you were quite honestly obsessed with? It made your head spin.

He stumbled down the hall, kicking his feet out of his pants and boxers as he held onto you tightly, his blunt nails digging into the meat of your ass as he brought you to your bedroom. You weren’t sure how exactly he knew which one was yours, and chalked it up to him snooping around when he first got here. His superspeed made things like that easy. 

He practically tossed you onto the bed, kissing any inch of your exposed skin before he pulled your shirt off, laughing a bit as it briefly got stuck around your neck before it was thrown… Somewhere. It’s location wasn’t important right now when you had Peter right in front of you.

Peter’s eyes zoned into the way your breasts bounced with each laugh of yours, looking so totally perfect in the black bra you were wearing.

“Sorry- obviously didn’t think this was gonna happen tonight so it’s not special or anything-“ you said, speaking about the bra.

Peter scoffed at your words, shaking his head in disbelief “you kidding? Have you seen yourself? God you’re a masterpiece. Really-“ His hands came up to cup your breasts in each palm over your bra and you mewled lightly at the contact.

“Peterrr'' you groaned, wriggling around underneath him. Your words seemed to snap him out of his boob induced trance and he refocused once more. Eye on the prize, Peter. The prize just so being the beautiful mound between your legs. Well, Peter didn’t really know that it was beautiful since you were still wearing pants, but he could just tell. Maybe another, more secret super power he had? Or just common sense.

Peter, ever the speedster sped your jeans down your legs and off your body before you could even blink, settling comfortably between your thighs before tossing his own shirt off. Finally, Peter was fully naked and you were pretty close to being so as well.

“So uh I won’t say I’m like.. A master or anything but I’d like to return the favor. Like I said.” Peter's eyes were dark as he slid further down the bed before he was face to face with your sopping wet panties. 

He brushed the pads of his fingers against the wet fabric, shocked that he’d had that effect on you. Holy shit, you were this wet for him? 

The second he touched you, you closed your eyes, tossing your head back. You weren’t sure if you just really needed to be laid, or if it was the fact that it was Peter Maximoff barely touching you that got you going. Either way, you were desperate and didn’t plan on waiting much longer. 

“Please don’t tease-“ You breathed out, already out of breath as you watched him, begging for him to just do something already! This was torture! Why was he going so slow! 

Peter sensed your need and decided it’d be rude to tease. Especially considering how generous you’d been with the blowjob in the kitchen. Something he certainly wouldn’t be forgetting anytime soon. He pulled your panties to the side, nearly drooling at the sight of your pussy right in front of him. 

He licked his lips, swallowing his excess drool as he hooked his fingers under the waistband of the small black panties and pulling them slowly down your legs.

Your breathing increased exponentially when he tossed them off your legs and spread your thighs wider to give him better access to you.

Blushing in embarrassment, you weren’t able to meet Peter’s eye. This was really happening? You were about to be eaten out by The Quicksilver-

That was mind blowing to you, just like the rest of the night had been. You’d have to host more college parties in the future if this is what you got in return.

A subtle buzzing had started on your thighs, slowly creeping closer to your core and you soon realized it was Peter’s fingertips, buzzing gently as they crept closer and closer to where you needed him most.

You opened your mouth to beg again but any words you had died in your throat as his nose brushed against your clit, causing a sharp burst of pleasure to run up your spine. 

“Ahhhh Quicksilver- Peter-“ you quickly corrected yourself, remembering he had said you could call him that. That he in fact wanted you to. 

Peter grinned at your response to the slightest touch, brushing his nose across your folds again before blowing a cold burst of air over your core that caused you to shiver. 

“Stop!” You suddenly shouted, a pout set on your lips “stop teasing me! Please! I didn’t do this to you! This isn’t fair!”

“Who ever said anything about me playing fair, baby? I mean me? Fair? Those two words should never be used in the same sentence.”

This cocky side of Peter was hot, but you also found it hot that the hunger in his eyes never once subsided, a hint of desperation hiding behind his bratty, full of himself demeanor. 

He did eventually decide that maybe he was being too mean with his teasing and finally let his lips brush against your clit, his tongue flicking across the hardened bud before sucking it into his mouth gently, humming the whole time.

Your body seized in pleasure, trying not to crush him between your thighs as he played with you to his heart's content. 

He began to finally eat you out the way he should have all along, messy and fast, making sure to give extra attention to your puffy clit.

Your back was arched and your eyes were closed, head thrown back against your pillows. Your chest heaved heavily with each brush of his tongue against your core, a pleasure building up in your belly so fast that despite him only being at it for a few minutes, you were already embarrassingly close. 

And that sense of being close was only amplified when Peter, cocky sex god he was, brought the pad of his thumb to your clit, rubbing gentle circles around it before he began to vibrate that thumb, a dull buzzing sound filling your ears.

You had barely any time to warn him of your impending release before your toes were curling and your thighs tightened around his silver head of hair, locking him in tightly. 

Peter smirked against you, letting you ride through your orgasm before pulling away from you, his lips shimmering with your release.

He quickly licked them clean, grinning from ear to ear as he crawled over you, pulling you into a kiss.

You panted against his lips before finally kissing back, taking a fist full of his hair and yanking ever so slightly. Not enough to hurt him by any means.

You didn’t expect the reaction that followed. Peter whimpered, leaning into the touch as he bucked his hips against you ever so slightly, his hard on brushing the plush of your thighs.

You grinned against his lips, nipping at his bottom lip gently, running your hands through his hair a bit more.

He pulled away just a bit to meet your eye, his own blown wide, a sheen of sweat covering his forehead as he swallowed hard.

“You got like- y’know- a condom?” He asked, a blush covering his cheeks. Sweet boy. Still shy even after everything the two of you had done so far.

“Like I mean-“ he continued, blabbering on, “My pull out game is pretty good- I’m fast-“ he laughed at his choice of words. Of course he was fast, that was his whole thing.

“But it’d be nice just in case- to not have to worry about it, y’know? Just bask in the moment. Plus it’d be pretty hot to cum inside. Even with a condom.” He shivered at the thought, cock twitching and oh so ready to be inside of you.

You laughed softly and reached over into your bedside drawer, rifling around for a few seconds before you found what you were looking for, pulling your hand back and showing off the shiny package to Peter.

He went to grab it from you but you pulled it away, shaking your head “can I put it on?” You asked, looking him over.

Peter seemingly got even more shy at that, blushing harder as he nodded “yeah- yeah course ya can, mhm that’s fine that’s-“ You cut him off with a kiss, cupping his cheek gently.

“You don’t do this often do you?” You asked, running the pad of your thumb across his cheek, hot to the touch from how hard he was blushing. 

He shook his head in embarrassment. God, Quicksilver himself didn’t get around, despite how much he wanted it. It just… Didn't happen. Nothing he could do about it really. It wasn’t for lack of trying, so when you seemed so eager, he was more than ready to get down with you.

You ripped the condom out of its wrapper with your teeth and Peter thought it was the hottest thing ever, eyes wide as he watched you, completely mesmerized. There was just something about you that seemed to draw him in.

You carefully wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking him slowly as he let his hips gently buck into the feeling, burying his face in your shoulder.

You continued like that for a few moments, enjoying the way Peter’s body shivered against your own and how his moans and whines got increasingly more desperate.

You brought the condom to the tip of his cock and slowly rolled it down, making sure it was on correctly before giving him a few more firm strokes.

Peter groaned against you, pulling from your neck to look you over. You’d never expected that this could be so gentle, especially with someone you really didn’t know.

“You can put it in, baby.” You whispered, wondering if that’s what he was waiting for. Confirmation. Proof that you actually did really want this as much as he did. You definitely did.

He swallowed thickly, heartbeat fluttering heavy in his chest as he positioned himself at your entrance, letting the head of his cock slide against your slit a few times, causing the both of you to moan softly. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him to go further, unable to wait anymore. The idea of him inside you made your breath catch in your throat. The Quicksilver was about to be inside of you. Peter. 

Peter Peter Peter was all you could think. This whole time you’d been obsessed with the superhero aspect of the man without really thinking that just him himself could be perfect. 

He locked eyes with you as his tip breached your hole, and after that he sunk in easily thanks to your slick. He didn’t stop till he was balls deep inside of you, his lips inches from your own as he panted, adjusting to the warm tight feeling of your walls squeezing around him. 

Peter groaned against your skin, hands clenched in the sheets at your sides, trying to steady himself as he let you adjust to his size.

He was big and it was a bit uncomfortable at first but the stretch was more than welcome and you found yourself trying to pull him deeper, needing more than what he was giving you in the moment. 

“Peter please-“ you choked out “Need more- I’m ready- please-“

“I’m gonna rock your world, babe.” Was all he said before he thrust into you, finding a nice rhythm that was fast, but not so fast that you couldn’t physically handle it.

You were glad now that the party had ended and the two of you were alone so you could be as loud as you wanted. You took full advantage of that, moaning and clawing at the speedsters back, most definitely leaving marks as his hips slammed against yours.

The drag of his cock inside your thick plush walls had to be one of the best things you’d felt in a long time. He was pretty shy at first you’d have to admit, but he definitely knew what he was doing. 

“Peterrr- fuck-“ you gasped, holding onto his shoulders for dear life as he pounded you into the mattress, knocking the air from your lungs with each thrust inside of you.

He went so deep you swore you felt him in your stomach and a pleasurable ache began to form in your groin, bubbling into a tingling pleasure that spread through your veins. You knew that feeling all too well. You were close. Already.

You didn’t want it to end so soon though and tried to fight it off. In a desperate attempt at distracting yourself, you pulled Peter into another kiss, nipping his bottom lip which caused him to moan against your mouth, his hips beginning to lose their rhythm.

“My god baby- can’t do that to me- gonna make me lose it-“ He chuckled breathlessly, trying to regain control of himself.

Realizing that he was close too, you smirked, squeezing around him purposely, causing his jaw to drop and the hottest little whines to leave his lips. 

“Don’t want this to end- so soon-“ He complained, body begging to buzz with built up energy that was ready to burst.

“Who said it had to end?” You questioned, smirking up at him as you placed one of your hands in his silver hair and pulled on it a bit. Peter let his head fall back, adam's apple bobbing in his throat as he swallowed hard.

“Y-yeah? Think you can handle another round?” He asked with a smirk, but was obviously trying to cover up how desperate he was.

You didn’t respond with words, too far gone and basically mindless on his cock at this point as he fucked you within an inch of your life.

You felt the tight band in your stomach snap, euphoric release flooding your system as you clenched around him, a loud moan leaving your parted lips as Peter kissed you, resulting in the two of you really just breathing into the others mouth, too caught up in the moment to focus.

Peter was right behind you, a few more thrusts had him tipping over the edge, stilling inside you and stuffing the condom with his white hot release.

The two of you stayed like that for a few moments, attempting to catch your breath as Peter leaned over you, muscles flexing as he gripped the blanket before he pulled out of you, taking off the condom and tossing it onto the floor, which you’d yell at him for later. Once you came to your senses.

Peter wrapped you up in his arms, holding you to his chest as your breathing slowly returned to normal. You felt so safe in his arms. It really was a nice feeling and you hoped it’d last. 

The two of you fell asleep like that, too tired to have another round that night. You woke up in the morning a bit sore and when you reached for Peter, he was already long gone. You should have expected that.

Sitting up, a bit of disappointment filling you, you saw a quickly scribbled note on a piece of paper that lay on your bedside table. It read: 

I had a righteous time with you last night baby. Had to leave earlier than I wanted to, but I obviously know where you live and intend on stopping by again soon. For twinkies of course…

and other things if y’know what I mean- Quickie 

[burn-before-reading]

Love in the Time of Socialism

joost klein x artist!reader

art, mush, and ramblings about life

warnings: depression (ish), burnout, reader character in some vague mental health funk

word count: 2k

a/n: slight prequel to blue is the colour of your eyes but can be read as stand alone. just same artist reader. vaguely romantic but just ramblings and getting feelings out haha. started this when I was in more of a bad mental state (lol) but im fine now so it got kinda tame by the end of it. still not proofreading anything

title from the song Love in the Time of Socialism by Yellow House

Rpf below the cut—

Normally Joost has to call you because its the only way you will actually look at your phone. Its more often that not you find yourself fixated on planning out your next project, and your friends have to force you back into reality. There was that one time no one had heard from you in over a week and thought you were dead, when you were just working. You hadn’t realized how many texts you missed and apologized for scaring your friends half to death. Especially Joost.

So now you leave your ringer on, and now they call.

Tonight, however, Joost calls and you aren’t in your studio. You are in your bed, where you have been for the entire day. and also most of yesterday. There isn’t a reason in your head specifically why this has happened. you MEANT to get up. Theres a list of chores and things to do just sitting on your desk, but you woke up late, so now nothing will get done. At some point it just became too stressful to even get up and look at it. You roll over and stare at the contact picture of him, smiling with some dumb fish eye lens he thought was funny. You debate not picking up at all.

But you can’t ignore him.

“Hi Joost.” your voice came through the phone more hoarse than intended when you answered, you don’t remember the last time you talked to someone. “Whats going on?”

“the others wanted to go out for drinks tonight, you hadn’t responded so I wanted to check you were joining us.” You could imagine him rocking back and forth on his heels in the middle of his living room while he talked, it was either that or pacing around.

“uhh..” Drinks at a bar was the last thing on your mind. In any other situation you would have loved to be around your friends, but right now you just needed to avoided as much as possible. “Not a good night, tonight. Sorry, I’ll have to join you guys next time.”

Joost felt like something was off, you sounded tired. “Is everything okay?”

“I’ll be fine I just… shit brain day. bad brain thats all. It happens.” You did your best to summarize how you felt without actually admitting anything, you weren’t sure how to explain anything anyway.

“ Oh Im sorry, would it be good, if I came over? I can keep you company, if thats okay?”

“you don’t have to, I’ll be fine tomorrow. I want you to have fun. ” you insisted, but he pressed on.

“I don’t mind, the group would understand. Have you eaten today?”

“Like… a meal? yes, or well, no. I had a soda..” You glance at the half drunk soda from the night before, now flat. “and uhhh..”

“I’ll pick something up.” You could hear him on the other end gathering things together, keys, wallet, probably his ipad.

“.. thank you. I’ll see you in a bit, I guess.”

-

Joost knocked on your door about an hour later. In that time you were able to get out of bed and make your way to the bathroom to change and make yourself somewhat presentable in front of a guest, and to the kitchen to make coffee despite it being 8pm.

You opened it to see Joost with a sheepish smile as he extends his arms out for a hug. “Hi.”

“Hi Joost.” you take the step to hug him, feeling his body heat contrast with the cold nighttime. “I’m glad you’re here.” the two of you head inside to your living room where he empties his bag of take out to reveal a couple different thai dishes and egg rolls. It was hard to not admit you weren’t at least a little bit hungry.

The two of you ate in mostly silence, making small talk about different projects you two have going on, or the fact that the two of you were in between projects. He done with touring for the time being and in the process of working on a new album. You loosely avoiding talking about any current work plans but mentioned one or two paintings you finished for a private gallery commission last month.

“ Just some paintings of animals and nature-ish symbolism. Honestly my heart wasn’t really in that one, but it payed the rent so.” you shrug and shove noodles into your mouth.

“Well now you have the time to work on your own stuff, right?” he commented, leaning back into your couch and looking down at you sitting on the floor instead of any of your own furniture. “Draw whatever your heart desires.”

“I mean I guess.. Im just glad to be done with the oil paints for now. I swear i think I was gonna die in my studio from all the chemicals. I dunno, I finished that whole project last month, I haven’t really been very productive since then.” you trail off and Joost gets a concerned expression on his face.

He sinks down from his spot of the couch to join you in the floor. The fluffy rug brushing against his legs as he adjusts his new sitting position.

“Its okay to take a break, you know.”

“I know I know, I just get frustrated. I never seem to have my energy directed towards the right thing. Whenever I have all those big projects from other contractors, I can brainstorm and think of all these interesting ideas I wanna work on, but I can’t because then I would get behind on the art Im being paid to do.”

“mhm.” he nods, to indicate he’s following along.

“ And then whenever Im done with those projects, I just get… tired. and my focus is gone. and Everything just feels…” you gesture the last bit with your hands, scrambling your fingers, to imply your thoughts. You aren’t looking at him, but you can still see him nodding in your peripherals. Joost always seemed to understand your thinking and explanations to things, even if you thought they were messy.

“Do you want to try painting right now?” he asks. you just shrug your shoulders.

“I don’t know what I would paint.”

“You can paint our dinner, or, or yourself, or your plants maybe?” he suggested and stands up. “Can I paint too?”

“Oh we’re actually doing this?” Not that you didn’t want to, but this self doubt had creeped into your mind again. That failing to produce something decent would prove that you’ve lost all your talent, your skill.

“yea we can have a little painting party!” he chimed, but he hesitated walking over to your studio to grab stuff, still giving you the space to reject his idea.

you looked away and started nervously tapping your fork against the table.

tap tap tap tap

“…sure. We can use my watercolors, Ive been wanting to use them more often anyway.”

the coffee table became a little more cluttered as you set up the paints for the two of you. Joost using an old set 24 pans and you using a newer set of watercolor tubes you were gifted last year and never opened. You watched as Joost immediately dipped his brush in water and started activating the blue paints, spreading it onto his paper in big random strokes.

“what are you painting?”

“not sure yet, maybe im painting you.” he looks up and smirks. you scrunch your nose up.

“why are you using so much blue. am I a smurf?” you joke and he just shrugs and points to your own paper.

“Just mess around, can’t be any worse than what im doing.”

tap tap tap tap tap tap

you fidget with your own brush for a few seconds lo get before grabbing a big mop brush and wetting your paper with clean water. Taking your smaller brush again, you pour out a small amount of yellow and mix it up with some more water. You hesitate for a moment longer before letting the brush lightly touch the surface, creating a burst of colour on the paper as the colour seeps onto the page. You make a few more random marks before switching to another warm colour and repeating the process, now watching the colours bleeds and mix into each other. You look at Joost paper and see that he is actually now trying to paint you, the blue fortunately was able to be mostly contained to the background.

“Do you ever think about what you would do if you weren’t a musician?” you ask.

“I dunno I think after this I could have a pretty successful art career.” he teases but sees in your face the question is more serious. “I don’t know. I started off with youtube, but if I wasn’t doing that… its hard to think about what my life would be like if I didn’t follow this path.”

“I always have this feeling deep down, that I made a wrong choice somewhere along the line. I was thinking about going to school for psychology, I also wanted to work with animals at one point, be a vet. I enjoy art, don’t get me wrong, but I just worry that in making it my job Ive just drained all the passion I had for it.”

You let the paper dry before staining the page with lines of dark burgundy, creating hands and a human heart. he hums as he listens, not adding anything, but simply letting you vent. beginning to piece together your mood from earlier. “I don’t have any jobs lined up right now, which is what Ive been waiting for, to work on my own stuff, yknow? I haven’t had the time ive wanted to make something for myself for a while. But now I just feel, I feel like ive been frozen.”

“things seem to be okay right now. I like what youve made. ” you look down and see the scribbles youve made with your paint. hands clasped over a broken heart. you shrug and smile softly, signing the bottom.

“Just a scribble, you can have it if you want.” You hand the paper over to him. “thank you for coming by, its… its nice being around you. Helps a bit.”

Joost takes the paper and studies it for a second. “I really like it, maybe I should come by more often.”

“If you bring the food we can have art nights whenever you want.” he holds up his paper. The blue bleeding into your skintone and hair since he didn’t wait for anything to properly dry. “I might stick to my ipad though, I don’t know why you like this paint.” he scrunches his nose at it. you laugh and it makes him smile.

You notice for the first time how bright his eyes look when he smiles, but you brush the thought away.

-

“Feeling a bit better?” he asks as he lingers by the door on his way out.

“a bit. like I said It was just a mood, I was gonna be fine tomorrow most likely… I still appreciate you coming over.”

“Don’t ever be afraid to call or text okay? Im always here to talk if you need. or just to listen.”

“definitely. Ive been meaning to uh, talk to someone about all this stuff anyway, you’re not a professional but ill keep it in mind.”

he grins and goes in for one last hug. you feel him slightly squeeze you and linger a little longer than usual before letting go. With one last glance he waves and head off. You see him pull out a cigarette for the walk back. It takes you a second to close the door. standing there watching him walk off until he turns a corner and disappears. Closing the door you sigh and go the clean up your living room.

You notice he left the portrait he drew of you. signed at the bottom with a smiley face next to his name.

It gets hung up in your studio above your desk.

[navstuffs]

Heart to-go

Pairing: RE2Barista!Leon x GN!Reader

Summary: You hate coffee. Of course with your luck, you end up falling in love with a cute blushing barista.

Warnings: COFFEE SHOP AU, SUPER FLUFF, blushing leon, tooth-rotting fanfic, reader DOES NOT like coffee (i could never), reader/leon are clueless and shy, sabrina and gabriel are names used in this fic, image taken from google

Author's Notes: hey, im back (sorta?kinda?). i had this fanfic saved for a while and since i haven't been able to produce new material, i decided to edit and post some of my old drafts. i plan on posting the other coffee shop au - nsfw version, but from now i hope you enjoy reading this one!

If someone told you before that you would visit a coffee shop and actually order the same cup of coffee every day, you would laugh at their faces. You don't like coffee, period. There is something about the smell or taste you just don't like it. Warm, cold, sweet, unsweet, with chocolate, you tried it all. It just isn't your thing, which made some people look at you as an E.T. sometimes, but hey, to each its own, right?

Your co-worker Sabrina is the one who invites you out to a popular coffee shop nearby your work. Before you even attempt to say no, Sabrina explains that yes, there were other drink options and some delicious pastries, like "some of the best brownies" she had eaten her entire life.

So you agree, with the promise you wouldn't regret it.

There is no line when you enter, around 5 pm. You pass this coffee shop often going to work, the smell strong in your nose if the door is open. You never entered, of course, but now inside, you must admit it looked cozy. A lot of natural light comes from the big windows in the front, illuminating the entire space. There are tables and chairs, at this time empty, compared to how full and hectic they could get in the morning.

As Sabrina orders her long order, your eyes wander the menu, written behind the counter on a giant blackboard. They had other options, as Sabrina explained before, such as handmade Italian sodas and some juices. When Sabrina is done, you turn your attention to the very attractive cashier. The kind you see on the cover of magazines, like a model or something. And cute. He has innocent blue eyes, a soft face, and blonde hair under the black cap. Your eyes glimpse at his name tag, "Leon," as he waits for your order.

"What do you want?"

And the words come out of your mouth before you can even think, something you would never have ordered in a million years.  

"A coffee?" 

You can feel Sabrina's neck twist, shocked. You ignore her, ignore how your voice went two higher tones than it should, focused on Leon, who continues smiling, patiently waiting for the rest.

"Sure, which one?"

"Coffee?" Your eyes roam around the many, many names and sizes as if you know what all those names mean, and you decide to risk it all. "How about your favorite order?"

Leon's eyes widen briefly before a faint red tone rises to his cheeks. He chuckles, surprised, before placing the order on the computer. 

"Right, okay then, my favorite order. Anything else?"

"Nothing, that will be it."

You pay your bill without looking up. Sabrina looks semi-concerned and amused when you are done ordering, a strange smile on her face.

"Are you okay?"

"I panicked," You whisper, hoping Leon can't hear the panic in your voice as you pull her to a table before she can start asking more questions.

You sit to wait for your order, and you notice Leon and another young blonde lady behind the counter. He seems to be blushing about something she says, and you wonder if that wasn't the most adorable thing you've ever seen.

"You are staring," Sabrina warns, her voice denoting humor. Why does it sound like Sabrina is having fun with your misery? You look out the window to the traffic slowing down since it is the end of the afternoon. When your order finally arrives, you turn excited, expecting to see Leon but being greeted by Ashley's happy face.

"Enjoy!" Ashley exclaims before leaving. You grab your small cup of warm coffee with a top layer of foam on it. It smells like cinnamon and vanilla. You really, really don't want to drink it.

"Careful now, Leon is watching," Sabrina teases, making you turn to look for Leon. He is indeed staring at you, his blue eyes filled with expectation. When he catches you looking, he turns his face away, a deep blush on his cheeks, too focused on cleaning something behind him.

"I can do this." You tell yourself, taking a sip from the cup. Yeap, still bad. Still bad as the first time you tried it. You drink another small sip because Leon could still be watching before placing the cup on the table. "I don't think I can do this." You confess in a whisper to Sabrina, who doesn't answer. She giggles, drinking her coffee as water. She saves you the dignity to not tease you anymore, at least.

Noticing she wouldn't be any help, you take small sips while listening to Sabrina's news. It was easier to drink while she talked so that you could ignore the sour taste in your mouth.

When your cup is finally empty, you sigh in relief. You have done it. You are NOT disappointing any cute blushy barista today. Leon appears at the side of the table, eyes filled with expectation.

"How was it?"

"It was so good. My friend over here loved it, right? Right?" Sabrina smiles happily in your direction. You want to strangle her, but you nod, smirking instead.

"Perfect, Leon. Thank you."

Leon's eyes lock on you, and you stare back, starstruck. No one should be allowed to be this charming. His smile lights up his entire face, making him look even more special. The type you could fall in love with if you aren't careful enough.

"I will get those for you, then," He cleans the table, then leaves, nodding in your direction. When he is out of a safe distance, Sabrina sings low.

"I think he likes you!"

"Shut up, Sabrina!"

-x-

After that, you start to visit the coffee. Daily. You get to meet the rest of the employees: Luis, a handsome man with a captivating smile who constantly flirts with you. You already know Ashley, a young college student who is always excited to see you. And well, there is Leon. It is odd how you click so fast with Luis and Ashley; you could joke with them as much as you wanted, but things worked a little differently when it came to Leon. He made you nervous.

He always welcomes you with a warm smile and treats you with respect. You tried to tease Leon once, but it died in your throat when you watched his expression. He just looked so innocent, you just didn't want him to dislike something you did or said. What if he misinterpreted?

You also continue ordering the same coffee. Your newfound trick to not throw it away? Take it to work and give it to Sabrina. You know you are wasting money, but Leon's smile is worth every cent, especially when you place the money on the counter for "Leon's order". Like one morning, two weeks after your first visit, you enter the shop, and it is Luis at the register.

"Hello, pretty thing. Same order?" Luis asks, winking. 

"You know me, Luis, I am loyal." 

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Luis sighs, pretending to be disappointed. Ashley waves in your direction when she sees you, asking. "Let me guess, another Leon's order to go?"

"You know, it is my dream. One of those days, you will enter those doors and ask 'Can I get Luis's order or maybe Ashley's?" Luis teases, "No, it must always be Leon's order. I have started to wonder why."

"I like his coffee," You whisper in your defense. Luis smiles, knowing exactly what you like. He points to Leon's back, too focused on a coffee maker. "Your boyfriend is waiting."

You show off your tongue, rolling your eyes and going toward Leon. He guides a cup of steaming milk into a to-go cup, almost as if he is drawing. You don't say anything, watching his concentrated face as he finishes. Every inch of his attention to whatever he is drawing. When Leon is done, he turns toward you, opening a smile.

"H-hey. Here it is."

He puts the to-go cup in front of you, uncovered. You find it weird but don't discuss it.

"Morning. Thank you. My favorite, as always." You grab a lid nearby, closing it. Leon seems disappointed but doesn't say anything. You quickly take a sip, holding back a scowl. "Perfect as always, Leon. Thank you. I don't even know where I would be without Leon's every morning... Leon's order, I mean!"

The frown is gone, and Leon smiles timidly, blushing. Of course, you must embarrass yourself in front of him, but honestly, you don't mind. Your mornings always got much better after seeing his smile. You leave the coffee, waving bye to Ashley and Luis. When you are gone, Ashley and Luis surround Leon, too curious.

"Did they see it this time?" Luis wonders.

"No."

"Such a nice person, but so clueless," Ashley sighs, holding her chin. "Maybe you should just try writing your phone number on the cup, it would be more direct."

"Or maybe they don't like me that much..." Leon declares, making his co-workers groan.

"Not this again, Leon."

-x-

Three weeks pass like that. You go in, say hi to Ashley and Luis, get your coffee with Leon, smile at each other, and leave for work. There is some teasing here and there from Ashley and Luis, you tease back, and that is it. You wonder if you should get a different order, but Sabrina seems happy enough with the coffee, you are happy enough to see Leon, so it works.

The next morning, you enter the café to find Ashley organizing a casket of brownies. After greeting each other, you grab one from the basket. So those were the limited edition brownies Sabrina always talked about.

"Hey, Ashley, are those the famous delicious brownies?"

"Yeah. Made by an extraordinary chef, but I can't reveal his identity. It is top secret."

"Can I get one? And also a Le-"

"Leon's order? Yes, yes, I know," She groans, sounding tired. Leon appears from the back office, opening his usual smile when he sees you. You like to think it is your special smile, but it is probably how he smiles at every single client.

"Hey."

"Morning, Leon."

He starts preparing your drink the way he always does. You wonder if Leon is bored or if he can even make it with his eyes closed. Maybe you should ask him if his favorite order has even changed next time? As you watch Leon work, you give a big bite to the brownie. It is delicious. The perfect balance between chocolate and sweetness. 

"Ashley, those are so freaking good!" You exclaim, bringing her attention back to you.

"Oh really? Our chef will love to hear that!" Ashley says with a suggestive tone, giving a quick side look to Leon. You finish the brownie in a few bites as Leon puts your cup on the counter, his cheeks painted red. Again your cup is uncovered. You grab the lid and close it. It has become a ritual by now. 

"Thanks again, Leon."

When you look up at him, Leon has a different expression in his eyes. He blushes, no more than he usually does, his hand raised. Before you can ask what is wrong, he places his hand over yours on the cup lid. His hand is warm, probably normal for someone working with hot drinks all the time. You don't say anything, waiting. Leon seems to be waiting as well, for you to say anything. Neither of you does, and the moment is broken when the door opens, a huge group of women coming in.

"Sorry, I don't know—" 

"Bye!" You rush out of those doors, not looking back.

Well, that was certainly odd, you think. Leon has never touched you before. It seems that he wanted to tell you something, but at the same time, he was waiting for you to say something? When you get to work ten minutes later, the cup still warm in your hands, you search for Sabrina, not finding her. Gabriel, your other co-worker, explains she is sick.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Nasty flu."

"Oh, okay. I will message her later then."

You look at the cup in your hands to her empty table before asking Gabriel.

"Hey, do you want some coffee?"

"Free? Don't mind if I do! What has on it?"

"I guess coffee, milk, cinnamon? I don't really know."

"You don't know?" Gabriel asks, grabbing the cup from you. "You don't know what is in your cup? Here, let me smell it, I have an excellent sense of smell." He opens the lid to smell it and exclaims, "Awn, this is cute."

"What?"

"The heart."

"What heart?"

Gabriel carefully gets the cup to show you a heart drawing on top. You want to hit yourself in the head; is that what Leon has been doing? That's why he held your hand this morning to show the heart? No, it couldn't be. When Gabriel starts taking the cup to his mouth, you pull the cup back, placing the lid.

"Sorry, Gabriel, gotta go! I will return with another one!"

You rush back to the store, holding the cup firmly. Maybe, just maybe, Leon has been drawing those for you only, and you always close the lid? Maybe this is what he was trying to tell you this morning. What if Leon draws a heart for everyone? Shouldn't you be paying for that? What if—? No, no time to think of that. Perhaps this is your chance. You enter the shop, gasping for air. Ashley is nowhere around, and Leon is dusting around the table. When he sees you, his brows furrow, but he doesn't hesitate to get close to you.

"Are you okay? Something wrong?" Leon sounds concerned, his eyes scanning you.

You try to speak, still catching your breath. You pull the lid, triumphant.

"What does this mean?" 

When you two look at the cup, the drawing is gone. There is just a mess of brown liquid, smelling like vanilla and cinnamon. You can't believe it. You turn to Leon, pointing at the cup and him, your mouth opening and closing.

"Have you been drawing hearts in my cup this whole time?"

"I have." He admits, blushing. 

"Thanks?" Jeez, you couldn't come with something better. Leon nods as if understanding before starting to turn away. "No, wait, please, I mean, I like them. A lot."

His face lights up, and you wonder how someone can look so adorable. It is so unfair for you poor heart.

"Tha-that's good, then. I was wondering when you would see them."

"Well, 'cause the lady who drinks my coffee doesn't open the cups!" You try to explain to him, biting your tongue. Leon waits, confused. "Yeah, I don't like coffee," You finally confess your secret somberly, like a sinner talking to a priest.

"So wait. You don't like coffee and keep ordering it? Why?"

Well, now it is your turn to feel your face burning. Realization passes through Leon's face, and he starts stuttering something before three older ladies walk in, going directly to the cashier. He grabs your cup, his heart thumping as he rushes to write something. When Leon gives you back, you see his number written in black ink.

"Ca-can we discuss this better later tonight? If you want to, of course," Leon asks. You nod. "Then you can tell me all about your hate for coffee."

"I would love to."

[johnnycakesswitch]

Hey!! I see you’ve been reblogging a lot of sickfic type headcanons and was wondering if maybe you had any for the curtis bros and or johnny?? I’m a sucker for sickfics and I feel like you’d have some really cute headcanons haha

Ok I’m sorry I took a minute to answer but I wanted to think up some rly good ones for you!! Sick fics are my absolute fav so I will do my best!

Ponyboy

• he’s the baby of the family so he gets absolutely doted on when he’s sick and he loves it so much

• gets so many colds in the winter. His nose is perpetually red from having to blow it so much. Always has a wet cough

• when he’s sick he really enjoys being held or laying in someone’s lap on the couch. Soda will hold him close at night and do whatever he can to make him comfy enough to sleep like rub his tummy or back or play with his hair, he absolutely hates seeing his baby brother hurting

• when his head is hurting really bad, Soda will massage his neck and shoulders because migraines really make your entire body hurt so bad

• if his head isn’t hurting too bad he likes watching tv because he’s bored so he’ll curl up on the couch with a bunch of blankets and watch tv with whoever’s around

• If no one else can get off work, Two-Bit will stay home from school and watch Pony. He’s actually really good at taking care of people and Pony likes having him there when his brothers can’t be

• if Pony gets too anxious or stressed he’ll get awful stomachaches, he’ll be nauseous all the time and have no appetite. His brothers know there really isn’t much they can do until he stops feeling this way so Darry just makes him food that’s easy to digest and Soda always rubs his stomach so he doesn’t make himself sick

• if Pony is really sick like a flu or something he’ll lay in bed with Darry, partially because it reminds him of his parents and because his bed is bigger and more comfortable. Usually Soda ends up squeezing in there too

• not necessarily dramatic but can be very whiny. Not in an annoying way but he’ll like make noises in his sleep or just these unintelligible sounds when someone asks him a question, especially if he’s got a bad headache. Just incoherent, miserable whines

• very pukey kid, can’t keep anything down if his stomach is sick and usually throws up if he’s got a migraine. On rare occasions though, he’ll be super nauseous but not actually able to throw up which he hates more than anything, he’d rather just get it over with than feel queasy for a long time

• will stand in the doorway of Darry’s room like “I frew up 🧍‍♂️”

• Darry and Soda really fuss over him like always checking his temperature, asking him what doesn’t feel good, making sure he stays hydrated and try to get something in his tummy. Usually he doesn’t like being babied but being sick is the only exception and he will complain if he feels like he isn’t getting enough attention

• bro will whine about drinking ginger ale and asks for Pepsi instead and Darry’s just like bruh be fr

Sodapop

• poor Soda is a tummy ache survivor. He has such a sensitive stomach it’s not even funny. He physically can’t hide if he’s sick because his stomach starts making these awful noises and that’s how the others always know he’s not feeling good

• don’t even try to make him eat when he’s sick because he will throw it right back up

• when he gets sick it’s like really bad. He gets very high fevers and body aches and is just completely miserable

• needs to be physically comforted because he’s always just so uncomfortable when he’s sick. He likes having his belly rubbed or his back or having his scalp massaged. Darry does that for him to put him to sleep when he’s sick and it works like a charm. Another thing Darry will do is rub his shoulders and arms which he loves because Soda always has trouble getting warm when he’s sick and it feels so nice on his achy muscles

• gets sore throats a lot bc bro breathes w his mouth open at night ✋😭

• Soda looks so endearing when he’s sick though because his eyes are all glossy and his cheeks are flushed and he’s always bundled up under a bunch of blankets which makes him look so tiny and precious

• he always psychs himself out about being sick like he’ll convince himself that he has to throw up so Darry will go sit with him in the bathroom and it won’t ever come and he’s just like “no I swear I’m gonna throw up” and Darry just has to coax him back to bed because it’s been like an hour. Sometimes bro honestly just needs to burp and ends up feeling so much better after

• the most dramatic sneezes ever, if Soda has a cold it’s everyone’s problem bc you can hear him sneeze a block away

• he’s a very emotional sick person if he’s super sick, always really teary and upset because he feels so yucky

• worries Darry so much because he overheats so easily, his temperature will go from low fever to veering on dangerously high like nothing

• Darry makes him put a cold cloth on his face or neck and he hatesss this he always tries to take it off because he hates being cold so Darry will have to sit with him and hold it in place or make sure he doesn’t move it either until Soda falls asleep or Darry thinks it’s been long enough

Darry

• gets sick like a regular amount but it’s usually not that bad

• when he does get pretty sick though, he tries to stay away from the others so they don’t get sick too

• this never works because Soda and Pony will break into his room to snuggle him which he can’t deny that he loves

• the one thing that really gets poor Darry is a cold. He gets the most uncomfortable colds, his ears always ache, his head hurts, his nose runs, it’s just miserable. Soda and Pony can always tell when one is coming on because his colds tend to start with a sore throat and his voice gets really raspy

• Soda will massage his back to help him sleep because he’s so restless when he’s sick and can’t seem to relax properly :(

• stomach bugs affect him the least, he tends to throw up once and feels so much better after, which is good because they definitely hit Pony and Soda hard so he likes that he can quickly feel better and take care of them

• super light sensitive when he has headaches so if he’s holed up in his room for hours, the others know he isn’t feeling good

• when Darry is sick, Soda and Ponyboy make him soup which is actually super good and he really enjoys. They’ll lay in bed with him after and cuddle, Soda usually lays his head on Darry’s stomach and Pony on his chest and Darry puts his arms around them both. It’s soothing for all of them

• he actually gets sick frequently in the winter but it’s a bunch of small, not serious stuff. Like low grade fevers that’ll last a day, a random cough, sore throats, etc. He doesn’t like the winter because he feels like he’s perpetually not 100%

• will always try to go to work, but one time Soda convinced him to stay home by saying “what if you throw up off the roof” and the thought of that was so embarrassing to Darry that he stayed home so he wouldn’t risk it

Johnny

• will usually camp it out at the Curtis house or at Buck’s with Dally

• a very good patient- he doesn’t mind being left alone but he won’t fight being taken care of either

• Darry will always let Johnny lay in his bed or help him get comfortable on the couch if he would rather be with everyone else

• lots of fevers, whether it’s a flu or a cold or whatever, Johnny always runs warm when he doesn’t feel good

• a very sleepy sickie, he usually just wants to sleep off whatever doesn’t feel good. He likes if another person is near him when he’s sleeping, it makes him feel safe

• Dally will always lay with Johnny when he’s sick and at Buck’s, partially because he knows Johnny likes it and so he can keep an eye on him. If Johnny breathes the wrong way Dally’s like 👀

• Johnny likes if Ponyboy reads to him when he’s sick, it gets his mind off of it

• if he throws up it’s really bad, it usually comes on super fast and it’s always a lot. He can’t always get up in time so if Johnny’s sick best believe someone is getting a bin or a garbage can for him to keep close because he’ll go to completely fine to 🤢 super fast

• being sick really takes all his energy away so even if it’s just the sniffles this boy is TIRED. It’ll be 7 pm and he’s like guys can I go to sleep on the couch now 🥺

• will not go home whatsoever if he’s sick because he just can’t deal with both things at once and everyone knows, so they’ll make sure to tell Johnny to stay over so he doesn’t feel bad about asking and try to sleep outside instead

• everyone coddles him but he appreciates it so much

[billkaulitzwife]

The Outsiders Coping With a Breakup

(ps guys im not over it leave me alone(i also watched the notebook and i hate myself))

Ponyboy

Reading or writing.

How could you ever hurt this little freshman boy he‘s such a sweetheart

He would probably silently cry into a pillow until he thought his lungs were about to collapse or cave in

if this was now … he‘d chain smoke and listen to lana del rey while looking out a moonlit window

he definitely listens to Elvis to get over it.

I don’t know what exactly he would read to get over it but probably some sad ass Edgar Allan Poe. Annabelle Lee lookin ass.

He‘d write the most heart breaking

tear dripping

heavy breathing sad poetry ever.

show him a romance novel.

he’d never stop reading them until he got over it.

just the bare thought of it drives him nuts.

so he reads.

Johnny

if you hurt this man he would probably hurt himself.

he would dream bout it and wake up in cold sweats, tears running down his face.

in all honesty

i think he‘d be artistic with it

he’d somehow turn each and every single tiny thought into something about you

whether it be thinking about a teddy bear then contorting it into nothing but an image of you and him.

he would never be able to look at the places you went together the same.

he would be an artist.

hand him a pencil and he’ll make your heart break and ache.

might etch and sketch on himself to see if you still care.

ps you obviously do.

Dallas

Doesn’t know how.

All this man does is sleep, drink, fuck, repeat.

being honest this manwhore is probably gonna screw every hoe in Tulsa to try and get his mind off of it,

but every path leads back to what he knows best.

he would smoke more,

party more,

drink away all his problems, etc before facing a problem head on.

people may see him as this

uhh

violent gang member hoodlum kid guy man

but deep down hes really just a kid who wishes he couldve given his momma one more hug

a kid that needed to be loved.

a kid that was never taught how to be loved.

Adelaide

crier.

she’s a big ol’ crier, but it doesnt matter since thats not the only way she copes.

she loves to paint and puts every emotion into her paintings.

she may’ve become a kleptomaniac since she needs the supplies.

the curtis boys would

PERSONALLY

kill you if anything happened to her

one heartbreak and shes done for

love? whats that? it isnt real?

dont hurt her no matter what.

she would also turn to cigarettessss (as if she doesnt smoke enough).

adelaide would develop stage five lung cancer before even admitting that love could in the slightest exist anymore.

Sodapop

working.

soda seems like the kinda guy to go through a breakup and cry a lot

but the only thing that really helped was work.

he’d probably get a raise

yk with how hard and how much he’d be working to get over it.

his siblings would warn him about not overworkimg himself

and guess what.

he didnt listen and got really sick from all the stress.

i know for a fact he would keep away from cigarettes even if someone said they help and he believed it

he would only ever listen to the radio

hoping and praying that when he’d hear a love song he‘d hear your voice

Darrell

probably the most sane of everybody while dealing with his bs

he wld obviously be heart broken

but not to the point he needed some insane coping mechanism.

he would probably meditate.

i mean this is the sixties cmon he’s either gonna do wxxd

or meditate.

as soon as a thought of you came up and his mind started to panic he would sit on the couch and

well.

relax.

he probably has the healthiest coping mechanism he’s definitely got his life together

the others are jealous as fuuuuck

Steve

bro wouldnt eat.

every time he thought about the breakup

he thought it was because he was strong enough

or that he was too chubby for his girl.

one time he passed out while on the way to work and the gang freaked out so bad

they couldnt take him to the hospital so they carried him home and stuck a juice box in his mouth

eventually his ass woke up and they all cheered like the war had just ended “HIP HOORAY!”

but then in all seriousness

he needed to get his weight back up so the curtis kids make him eat at their house

even if he says he ate.

theres always snacks for him laying around thay house from then on out

Two-Bit

drinking.

do i have to explain.

in the novel pony said two-bit was famous for shoplifting and his black-handled switchblade…

but for some reason i know he wouldnt shoplift any more.

(he sure did teach adelaide how to tho)

along with his love for “shopping” you gotta remember he’s a heavy alcoholic

he’d drink away all of his problems and thoughts until he blacked out.

his buddies would think its just your average keith

but in all reality he’s really struggling

even though he seems like the usual drunk happy joking guy

HE IS HURTTT.

okay thanks for watching todays vlog

if u ever need to vent please dont be scared to message me bruv im sure Ik how to help.

[ghosts-bandwagon]

Hey there!!

Im being hella self indulgent with this ask but could you do some Task Force 141 + König headcanons for a reader dealing with stomach issues? (like the nausea, being cold and having headaches all the time, stomach pain, etc). If you could I would really appreciate it!! If this makes you uncomfortable feel free not to do it :))

Oof ouchie ouch

Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley:

He’s unsure what to do with himself at first so he kinda does everything he can? He’s cleaning up the house while you’re resting in bed, he’s got peppermint tea going, he’s running out to the pharmacy for meds to help your nausea and headaches

He’s setting up the heating pad to gently rest it on your stomach, he’s making lemon water and sitting on the bed, gently tilting your head and instructing you to take small sips

If you ask him to, he’ll rub your stomach with the softest touch

If your nausea reaches the point where you’re throwing up, he’s holding your hair or rubbing soothing patterns in your back with moderate pressure

He makes sure to take some meds with him just in case your headaches or your stomach pain flares up, he watches you intently to be able to catch it before it gets bad

John ‘Soap’ MacTavish:

He’s so comforting, if it’s a chronic issue he’s got everything you need when you get a flare up

If it’s something that happens on occasion, he’s still ready for you, he’s got pretzels, applesauce in the fridge, Dramamine for your nausea and headaches

He’s got a heated water bottle ready for your stomach aches

If nothing else, he is prepared and doting. He’s insisting you rest, he’s happy to do everything around the house for however long you need, he refuses to let you do anything

He’s at your beck and call and he makes it known, if you don’t have the energy to shout you can shoot him a text but you probably won’t have to because he’ll be right there at your side

John Price:

King of home remedies lmao

He’s got tips and tricks he’s picked up when he was younger and when he was in his academy days

Ginger tea with honey, large glass of water with lemon juice, peppermint tea or peppermint candies, bitters and club soda, tablespoon of apple cider vinegar

If your nausea reaches a point where you’re throwing up, he’s standing behind you, holding your hair back and pressing a hand against your forehead (trust me it helps)

Once you’ve cleaned up, he’s giving you some ginger tea with a little honey in it, and gently rubbing your back as you take a few slow sips

Kyle ‘Gaz’ Gerrick:

He’s not quite sure what to do outside of things his parents might’ve done for him when he was younger, so he looks it up on his phone when he’s sitting on the bed at your side, gently rubbing your tummy

He’s listing off the different things he’s finding to see which of them seems most appealing to you

As soon as you pick something, he goes with it, he heads out to the grocery store to grab the things he needs to help you feel better

He’s grabbing the chicken soup, applesauce, jello, pretzels, ginger ale, popsicles? (In his mind cold = soothing)

When he comes back, he’s giving you a little bit of everything, sitting beside you on the couch with you all bundled up and wrapped in blankets, and he’s got himself a small bowl of the pretzels he got for you, your favorite show playing on the tv

König:

I feel like he’d call his mom for advice or home remedies, but when some things aren’t available for purchase where you live, he asks you what you’ve normally done and what you’d like him to do

He’s following what you say to the letter, he’s quick about getting what you need from the super market, and he’s quick about coming back

He makes you some homemade chicken noodle soup and gives you a glass of ginger ale and some ice to chew on when you’re done with the drink

He’s rubbing soothing circles on your tummy, his hand warm and calming as you lean against him

He’s got the lights dimmed so it doesn’t make your headache any worse, he’s given you some medicine already to help it go away quicker, he’s softly humming, gently rubbing your arms and your back

[sparklingcid3r]

are you a tim and darry shipper? if so, PLEASE share some hcs of them

YESSIR I AM‼️ oh my days i’ve been dying to yap about them bc i’ve been obsessed 🙏 i won’t go into how i think they actually found out about each other’s man-kissing tendencies bc im thinking of writing a fic abt it (if it doesn’t happen then i’ll write abt it here lol) but here we go‼️ ooc? perchance🤫

- Incredibly private relationship. Neither of them want a single soul to know

- So naturally they get walked in on by Pony

- “You said you locked the door” “It’s not the same kind of lock we got at my place” “It’s a lock” “That you never even use” “Do you know how to lock my door?” “Do you know how to lock your door?”

- (It’s not Tim’s fault tho because not even Pony remembers which way to turn it, he’s just jiggling it until it clicks. Seriously, why would anyone need to know?)

- Darry’s idea of being romanced is coming home from work to see Tim doing the dishes while playing Darry’s favorite Ricky Nelson records in the background.

- Just sweep him off his feet, Tim, why don’t you🙄

- Fr tho acts of service is Darry’s love language, catch him SWOONING when Tim says he’ll pick up Pony from school and then come back to help him dig leaves out of the gutter. Most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to him

- Idk if Tim has a love language, but maybe it’d be quality time. Even if they aren’t saying anything, he just likes hanging out and unwinding with Darry at the end of the day

- If they haven’t been able to see each other for a while because of Darry’s long ass work days, Tim sometimes visits him during his lunch break at work, just to talk and catch up. He brings two bottles of ginger ale because he knows Darry can’t drink on the clock, but could stand to crack open a cold one

- They’ll go and watch the rodeos together when Dally is jockying and Soda’s doing saddle bronc

- One time he came home to find Tim, Pony, and Soda very heatedly yelling at the soap opera playing on the television. They made him swear to secrecy before letting him join in

- Lotsss of stab wounds in the coaster next to the couch. Darry only got it after one too many accidents with Tim not remembering that the Curtis family doesn’t just bury their blades into furniture when they’re particularly emotional

- Darry actually gets along well with Angela, they have pretty similar music taste. He’s also telling her which teachers she wants for which classes, and also the best spot to park to pull out of school quick before traffic builds up

- Darry wants to spend some time at Tim’s place, but Tim refuses nearly every time. His parents are always drunken, high crash outs when they’re home and the place is just a mess. He’s a purebred hood, but he’s also the only one trying to run a tight ship around there for his siblings’ sake

- Tim bounces around from job to job, he never really found a rhythm anywhere. Darry once sat down to help him hunt, but Tim’s better suited for odd jobs anyway, so that’s where his money rolls in from

- Definition of power couple. They’re mean asl in solo fights but put them on the same team and it’s lights out

- There’s an on-going bet on the East side about who would win in a fight between them

- Darry and Tim know about this and also get into arguments about it

- Love the idea of characters who are described as things such as “feline” or “deer-like” or “spider-like” etc etc also act like those animals, so the minute Tim was described as cat-like I knew that in my head he’s taking naps and when he gets up, he does the full body, hands in the air stretch until every bone has popped and he’s got just slightly longer canines than usual, “blink and you’ll miss it” slight. Darry thinks it’s hot

- They’ve mutually agreed to never accept gifts from each other because they’re too proud but also too insecure about money and don’t want to be leeching off the other

- Tim doesn’t sleep on the Curtis’ couch unless he’s in rough shape from a fight the night before or he wants to catch Darry in the morning, but more often than not it’s because of a fight. Pony and Soda only know about a fraction of the times Tim has done this and just think “damn darry ur bf’s gay asl for u”

Gang i love them sm it’s not even funny this is so serious for me😭🙏

[dadsbongos]

engloutir

1.2 K words

warnings - incredibly vague spot in the csm timeline (somewhere post vol. 11 but before part 2), character study stupid daydream bullshit, angst :) and fluff, IMMEDIATE SPOILERS

summary - Denji has never been one to see himself as a "settle down" kinda guy, but now he might be ready for you (not so much plot).

You have to remind yourself, often, that Denji is another person. Under the chainsaws and the lackadaisical attitude, he is still a man. Soft and flesh and tears. Man.

He sits on your porch now. Makima gone. Power gone. Aki gone. Brothers and sisters and lovers - all for a moment in the blip of his lifetime, all beloved with each stretch of his heart. He’s quiet - bizarrely - staring up at the blanketed stars. Chairs shoulder to shoulder, you’re expected to take the one by him.

“I didn’t know if you wanted anything so I got you - uh - this,” you hold a warm mug out over his shoulder. It was a gift from Himeno, on your first birthday since meeting her. Light blue with a picture of you two printed ugly and wide across the front, “Just warm milk.”

“I think I’m lactose intolerant,” Denji takes the mug anyway. He thinks it’s nice you were concerned about his tastes, but he’ll eat anything. He’s hungry for it all and he always wants more.

“I can get you something else?” you hold a hand out and he wants to take it - drag you down with him, but that’d be sullying and he doesn’t know if he’s quite that hungry.

“Nah,” he sips from your warmed milk and honey and you remember he’s been through hell.

The bags under his eyes have gotten heavier and his shoulders slouch a bit more than they used to.

“This is perfect,” his sharp teeth might cut right through your mug, he almost wants to. Just to leave evidence he was ever there. That you let him in.

He’s always liked you - you were kinder than the others, more patient, more attentive, more genuine. Now that Makima can’t hold the leash like she used to, he realizes he liked your method better. The gentler hand that feeds what he asks and chances being bit rather than shoving escargot past his teeth.

Sometimes you forget he’s hurt, it's easy when he usually isn’t so quiet - he can talk faster than Power could clear a room, and he puts it to good use when he doesn’t want people asking questions. You feel bad you don’t ask, especially with the way he stares.

You crawl over the armrest to your other deck chair and stare into your own mug. Plain water is mostly all you can stomach these days. Everything else tastes like Aki and Power and Himeno and Beam and Angel and Galgali even though you know it shouldn’t. Kishibe told you it’d get you killed.

Maybe you shouldn’t have let Denji live with you - milk may start to taste like sunset hair and a vulgar tongue. Maybe Denji won’t be able to stomach water.

It’s cold tonight. And Denji sees you shiver.

“Where’s your jacket?” his tone is accusatory, “Trying to catch something?”

“Forgot it inside, I think,” you know you did, pouting as you huff soon after, “I don’t wanna get up…”

Denji is not selfless, but he sets down the mug with you and Himeno stretched over and braces his hands on the armrests of his chair, “Want me to run inside?”

“No, no!” you bat his arm until he’s relaxed again, “Don’t ruin this.”

It’s a common night. One you see more often than not, but Denji would write home about it just because it’s seen from a clean porch in a cushioned chair outside a nice apartment. With you. But he can’t write home - and the more he thinks about it the more he realizes it might just be because he’d be writing back to you.

The water is flat and plain on your tongue, but it’s better than cracking over the soda Aki used to always buy you when he’d see it.

Denji’s milk is starting to cool and form a thin film over top - he hates the film but he will drink it anyway. Because he is starving, and because you made it.

Denji wants to unhinge his jaw and swallow you whole. Not to hurt. Not to kill. To keep. He wants you in his mornings and he wants you at night. He wants you forever and always and he wants you in my palms. He wants you to want him - want him for Denji, for the human beneath the chainsaws and surrounded by the flesh. To make sure you need him like he does you and secure you like he couldn’t with Aki and Power.

You feel like the warm blanket in December, when you can crawl into a bed at the end of the day and rub your feet together while curling into a ball.

He wants you to swallow him whole.

And when you look at the emptiness left in his chair and ask, “Can I sit with you?” he feels like you’re about to.

He hums and scoots closer to the leftmost arm of the chair, looking up at you as you stand. His eyes are big and wonderful and you can almost see stars twinkle in their reflection - or maybe that’s just Denji.

Almost as he was when you first met him. With big, loud words and no sense of his place.

“You can sit on my lap, too, if you want?” he’s grinning now, and this feels natural.

Talking about how he avoids his birthday and answering the phone can wait another day - for now, he just wants a blanket in December and you’re taking his offer. One leg looping over his and your side caving close to him.

“Such a perv,” you pinch his skin and notice there’s more fat than when you first met him. You don’t say anything, you don’t want him to think too much about it.

“You know it!” he holds out his mug and you clink yours with it, he polishes off his cold milk and the bitter, nasty film that formed on the surface in one gulp. You sip your water and lay your head against his shoulder.

He’s calmer these days, though, and you assume it’s what he’s been through. Having to return from hell.

“Wanna go to the store with me tomorrow?” you angle your head to stare at Denji.

Moonlight mirrors off his skin nicely - cherry cheeks warm against yours and eyes sweet when they turn back to you. You don’t know exactly what you two are, but you do know that if he leaned down to kiss you - you wouldn’t stop him.

“Sure,” he stares a little longer and you hope he likes this angle of your face, he doesn’t think there’s a possibility he couldn’t, “The one with the dog on the sign, right?”

He still likes dogs - you assume that’s the memories of Pochita. You’re glad Makima couldn’t rip that from him.

You nod slowly, grinning at him as he beams back down at you, “Duh. And the free samples.”

“Fuck yeah!” he kicks his legs out and onto the porch banister and leaves them there.

His muscles are less tense now, and when you stretch your legs out to rest by his, he melts into his chair even further - because he is hungry.

He will drink the milk and eat the film and consume your presence in its entirety. He wants to swallow and be swallowed. To be secured like neither of you could do before. Whole. Entirely.

~~~

@chainsaw-man-inserts finally... a return to chainsaw man

[360iris]

POV: dating boris pavlikovsky as teenagers

You have to be outside to catch the school bus by 5:55am, so the term is full of sleepy mornings. The two of you sitting towards the back of the bus, huddled together for warmth after having to wait outside in the chilling, desert cold by yourselves in the dark.

Heads leaning against one another, your cheek presses into the soft fabric of his overcoat on his shoulder as you dose off almost immediately, blanketed in the tinted night blue, glad to gain even a meager ten minutes of sleep before you’re forced to start the day. Boris gently fiddles with your fingertips as he looks down at your form and out towards the passing scenery.

You eat the school provided breakfast in the cafeteria, listening to Boris and Theo’s early morning banter and chiming in at certain points as you gain energy. These mornings were filled with Theo’s infectiously mischievous smiles and Boris’ playful grins. Their laughter never failed to provoke pools of serotonin, no matter how despondent you previously were, you’d always find yourself feeling better in their company.

Teasing kisses that were one-thirds sharing a breath, one-thirds your mouth accepting his almost inaudible laughs as he gently nudged your head back while your lips pressed forward again, self-consciously seeking out his own. Notes of peach chapstick, the bitter tang of cigarette tobacco and the sweet taste of sprite spreading between the two of you. A small reminder of the soda passed between yourself, Boris and Theo at lunch- your odd group each chipping in what you had to buy it from the snack stand.

Boris is black jeans ripped and fraying at the knees, swiping greedy swigs from opened bottles in your parent’s alcohol cabinets and sentences with Russian and English chopped and screwed together.

Being with him is like staining your tongues red and blue with gas station slushies and feeling immensely pleased with the vibrant purple you both end the afternoon with.

It’s sweltering hot Vegas nights unable to turn the air conditioner on, so the evening is spent clad in your undergarments, splashing around in a tub filled with cool water- a dingy, plastic white box fan placed in the doorway.

And weekends sprawled out on the couch in front of the television, laughing too loudly at the seven o-clock sitcoms and piddling around in the kitchen searching for something to eat even though you already know there isn’t anything good hidden in the cabinets.

Summers spent sticking as much of your torsos as you can fit into the fridge to enjoy the coolness before grabbing an ice-pop.

Winters plopped down at the dinner table, happily failing at making mini gingerbread houses, feeling utterly pleased with the monstrosities you create. “What the fuck is that, Potter?” “Uh guys.. Popchyk ate my fourth gingerbread wall- I think I’m going to have to settle for a gingerbread hut.”

Boris tends to just know things with you, and those he spends a lot of time with and cares about. It’s mostly the eyes that give themselves away to him, thoughts and feelings becoming tangible with a simple glance. He’s able to pick up on when you’re upset or disappointed. And in the moments when you swear you’re just looking at him, (whether he’s taking a sip of his drink, knocking the ashes from a cigarette or brushing his hair from his eyes) he knows that you love him, without even having to say the words- though he always smiles when you do just for the sake of it.

He’s all hands. Whether he’s ghosting the pads of his fingers against your lower back as you’re walking, cupping your neck or sneakily pinching your thighs from under the table- his hands practically have a mind of their own.

And sometimes you think he’s all mouth. Pink lips nipping at the exposed skin of your neck, subconsciously biting your shoulder or indulgently kissing every inch of your face just because. Theo teasingly referring to you as Boris’ personal chew toy with how often he can be found softly gnawing on you in some way, shape or form.

[transmurderbug]

🍂Weekly Tag Wednesday! 🍂

Look at me going at it after being AWOL for like a month. 👀 Thank you Nosho @creepkinginc, Becki @francesrose3, Jess @jrooc, Kaka @stocious and Willow @ian-galagher for the tags! 🥰

0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0

(stealing Willow's format, because it's pretty and neat)

Name: Sky

Location: In a cave, underneath a pretty rock somewhere. 🪨

And now for the randomness! tell me your most and least favorites of: (brave to assume I'll be able to choose just one...)

Candy?

Most - I've always like sour Haribo of all kinds. Also any candy or chocolate bars. Least - The very soft, cotton like gummies (gumdrop?)

Seasons?

Most - Autumn where it's not cold yet, but everything's pretty. Also snowy winter. Least - That very ugly time when autumn is turning into winter and everything is sad.

Hot beverage?

Most - Cocoa or hot chocolate. Least - Green tea.

Cold beverage?

Most - Most sodas and coffee (I drink cold coffee even if it's freezing) Least - Tonic. Blah.

Colours?

Most - Black, blue, green and orange. Least - Pink.

Vegetables?

Most - I will devour any vegetable and I love them with all my heart as long as they are raw. (I'd also say tomatoes, because they are one of the best things ever, but they're technically a fruit. Also potatoes - raw - but they aren't vegetables either. They deserve the honorable mention though) Least - Most if they are cooked/baked/went through any kind of heat treatment. But mostly spinach.

Traditional foods from your country?

Most - Oh wow. We have so many and I love most. But maybe... lángos, chitterling-sausage, kürtőskalács, pig feet stew - okay I have to stop, but I have so many more. I need to put together a list... Least - We have a chitterling that's made with liver. I never liked those. Or stuffed cabbage.

Insects?

Most - Okay, now hear me out. Any insect is instantly my best friend, so I can't just choose one... All the bugs, that's for sure and other than that... I find dragonflies to be quite pretty. Least - These are all context specific, but... I'm seconding Nosho with the midges. Also the small, bitey flies and most gadflies (painful as heck if they bite/sting) that will absolutely devour everything and everyone during the summer.

Cake flavours?

Most - Any fruit, chocolate, coffee and lemon. Least - Anything made with cottage cheese.

Non-gallagher or milkovich shameless characters?

Most - V, maybe Kev. I also liked Sue. Least - Sammi. Caleb. The usual ones. (Also stealing Willow's thought, because as entertaining as Paula was, damn her)

These questions proved how incapable I am of choosing just one "most". But oh well. Keeping it interesting.

Tagging a few awesome people, because I'm miraculously on time. Hop in or have this cookie: 🍪

@transmickey @spacerockwriting @dynamic-power @deathclassic @juliakayyy @look-i-love-u @energievie @palepinkgoat @heymrspatel @suzy-queued @gardenerian @darlingian @ifallonblackdays @swiftfootedachilles @krysmiss @meagaboooo and anybody else who wants to play

[missvelvetsstuff]

This is the first request I've ever received. I'm sorry it took so long. I really wanted to accept the challenge but was afraid it would suck. When I first started this I thought it might be too melodramatic but then I remembered it's Tumblr so that's impossible.

Hope y'all like it

Request 1

*****Like Steve cheated on his wife and when she found out about them he gave her the divorce papers and left her with their kids, and after few years the woman he cheated with cheated on him and he tries to get back to the reader and now she’s married to Bucky .******

Poor Choices

Steve Rogers x Reader, Steve Rogers x Sharon Carter, Reader x Bucky Barnes

Y/N sat up and stretched slowly right before she was able to turn off the alarm. The other side of the bed was cold, she was getting used to that. If it wasn't an early morning run it was a meeting or a mission or coffee with Bucky and Sam. Or something, always something. Steve had been less interested in her or their child since the day the doctor told them they were having a girl, he wanted a son so bad he could taste it and blamed her for having a girl.

When she tried to console him by talking about having more he scoffed at the idea, questioning her ability to give him a boy. She shouldn't have pushed but his reaction really hurt her so she had to tell him that the baby's sex was on the father. He punched through the wall right next to her head, the only time she ever feared him. She never told anyone but was more careful with her interactions with him.

She shook her thoughts off and went to take a shower and get ready for the day. It's Sarah's second birthday and the house would be full. Mostly with Avengers but her parents would be there too, they doted on their little princess. The fridge was full of Sesame Street themed food trays, she had 2 huge ice chests full of ice and drinks, one marked adults with beers, wine coolers and soda, the second with waters and juice boxes. She ran over all the details in her mind and was putting together her list for this morning when the bathroom door slammed open. Steve was home.

"Your daughter is whining again, you'd better hurry up and take care of her. I'm tired of hearing her cry" Steve spit out at her.

Y/N takes a deep breath "Ok Stevie, I'm almost done."

She hears him muttering something but can't make out what he says so ignores it, used to his demeaning words. Sarah almost never cried when he was gone, the house was mostly peaceful.

She stepped out of the shower and quickly dried off. She put on some shorts and a t-shirt to wear while she set everything up.

"Good morning birthday girl! Growing up so fast. Let's go eat before your aunts and uncles get here to celebrate your big day."

They slowly walked down the stairs and Sarah climbed up into her chair smiling "appy day mama!" She babbled. Y/N felt her heart bursting with love while also breaking that Sarah's own father had no interest in his only child. As soon as she had realized that Steve wouldn't get over her failure to produce a son, she had sworn to herself that she would do everything in her power to make sure Sarah didn't notice. She would make today the best day she could even though she knew Sarah wouldn't remember, she had even hired a photographer so that she didn't miss anything.

Y/N never gave up hope that Steve would remember that he loved her and go back to the attentive and passionate husband he was before, if he did there would be pictures of everything he had missed.

She heard knocking on the door and then it opened "Anybody home?" Of course it was Bucky. He was always there for important days with Steve and loved being Sarah's 'untl buggy'. His feelings for Y/N were more complicated but he had no intention of interfering with Steve's marriage so played the part of affectionate brother type but if Steve hadn't met her first....

"Untl Buggy!!" Sarah yelled, making grabby hands

Bucky grinned "There's my Sarah-bear" and kissed her on the cheek. He made a face "Pancakes, huh? Lotsa syrup?"

Sarah grinned and nodded happily while shoving more food into her mouth.

Bucky gave Y/N a kiss on the cheek "Hey Doll"

She smiled "Hey Buck. Thank you so much for coming early to help me set up. I never know what Steve has planned and I want everything to be perfect."

"No problem, you know I'm always here for you." He coughed and blushed "I mean for all of you. Sarah and and uh her dad guy. Steve, right."

She smiled at him "I know Bucky, thank you."

"So where should I start?"

"Can you set the tables and chairs up outside? I'll take miss syrup here for a bath-"

"No mama, Sawah no surp." Sarah protested

Y/N giggled "Sorry baby, just playing.

"Iss otay. Baf?"

"Yeah, let's go get ready for your party."

And Sarah cheered.

Bucky went to the den to find Steve "Hey punk. Come help set up for the party."

Steve looked at him, bored "Pass. I'm not into kiddie parties."

Bucky shook his head "Not even for your own kid? One of these days you'll realize what you're shrugging off and for your sake I hope it's not too late"

Steve laughed "Don't bet on it. I'm meeting up with Brock and the STRIKE team. I'll be back later"

"What about helping your wife?" Bucky pushed

Steve scoffed "I told her it was a waste to have a big party for a kid that won't remember but she insisted so she can handle it."

"Whatever, punk"

When the party was going full swing, the Avengers were all there with their families and the kids were enthralled, playing with Big Bird and Elmo.

Y/N's parents were chatting with Tony and Pepper, fawning over Morgan who was only a couple of years older than Sarah. Clint and Thor were playing super soakers with his kids and Nat.

Bucky heard shouting in the garage and went to check only to find Steve had returned with Brock Rumlow and Jack Rollins. They were all staggering drunk.

Bucky sighed and went up to Steve "Hey jerk, I think it's almost time for cake"

Steve took a sip from his flask, Asgardian ale Bucky was sure, and shook his head "No thanks," he slurred "I'm not getting fat like Y/N has. Her daughter is 2 years old and she still hasn't lost the baby fat." He ignored the sound of the side door opening when Y/N walked in.

"Yeah, I'm fat we get it Steve. Even though I've lost all but the last 10 pounds I gained." She shook her head when she saw his guests, Brock gave her the creeps "There's cake since you don't care about the kid the party is for." And she left the room.

"I'll stay out here" and Steve looked back down at his phone, smirking at a picture of a half naked woman with long blonde hair. He looked back up to show Bucky "Pretty hot, right? I bet she has a friend she could bring for you."

Bucky shook his head "Isn't that Sharon? I heard she'll fuck just about anyone. Jerk, you have a beautiful wife and daughter, why are you chasing skanks like Sharon?"

"If you think Y/N is beautiful, you can have her and I never wanted a daughter. I want a son and I definitely didn't want a fat chick in my bed. Sharon is still in great shape, tight and sweet, every inch." He grinned at Bucky who scoffed and left before he said something he would regret.

In the backyard Y/N was trying to keep up with the mess and keep the guests all entertained with some help from Wanda and Carol. She cleared off the table to make room for the cake and ice cream, set Sarah up in her high chair, then went into the house to get the cake from the fridge and light the candle. Bucky held the door open and started singing as Y/N came out of the house.

Sarah's eyes were wide and she was bouncing in her chair, yelling 'appy day sawah!'

When her personal cake was set on the tray she took in a big breath and blew the candle out, smiling at the applause before she dug into the cake with both hands.

After opening a mountain of gifts, Sarah insisted on playing with her new plush kittens and fell asleep sitting up on the couch, gripping them tightly.

She startled awake when Steve came crashing through the house, still obviously drunk, grabbing a handful of cake before knocking half of the table clean and laughing like a psycho. He grinned up at Y/N "See baby, I'm helping. This way your fat ass won't eat it and I might be able to fake it enough to get you pregnant with another brat."

The house stilled until Bucky and Thor grabbed Steve to take him to the den. Y/N was mortified and couldn't do anything but stare at the floor. Pepper helped her get Sarah and take her up for a bath, while her mom helped her change into pajamas and tucked them both into the queen bed in Sarah's room.

Later that week Y/N was organizing Sarah's new toys while Sarah wanted them all out so she could show her friends when they came over. They were working on cleaning the floor and all the shelves when someone knocked on the door, then opened it "Anybody home?" Bucky.

She went to greet him, confused "Hey Buck. What are you doing here?"

He looked confused back "I told Steve I'd bring back those games he loaned me. Is he here?"

Her face fell "What do you mean? Isn't he with you?"

"With me, doll?" He felt his stomach drop when he saw tears starting to fall.

"He told me he was at the compound all week, training exercises or something." She felt like her chest was hollow and her knees wobbled. She looked up at him through the tears "Bucky?" She sobbed as he caught her.

Damn Steve.

Bucky stayed with her, making sure she ate and helping with Sarah. He slept in the guest room and made breakfast for them in the morning. He left before lunch to take care of some things with Tony and made her promise to call if she needed him.

She was waiting on the couch when Steve came home late that night. He didn't even notice her until she cleared her throat. He glanced over at her "Why are you still up? Is something wrong?"

She took a deep breath "Where have you been, Steve?"

He laughed "I told you, training. Ask Sam or Bucky."

She shook her head "Bucky came by yesterday looking for you. Didn't know about any training. So who is she?"

Steve scoffed "She? What are you talking about?"

"You know damn well what I'm talking about. It's Sharon isn't it? She makes snide comments every time I see her. How long have you been screwing her? Huh, Steve?" She demanded tearfully.

"You know what yes it's Sharon. I've been fucking her since you failed to give me a son. I just can't bring myself to screw you. You're so fat you disgust me. It's like you got pregnant and gave up on looking good. Sharon takes care of herself and takes care of me no matter how she feels.

I already have an attorney, you can have the house, your car, the kid and child support but you have to sign right now and I walk away clean"

She couldn't breathe, how could he do this? She quit working to be the stay at home wife and mother he wanted. She sat suddenly "That's it? You can just walk away?

Fine, let me see those papers. I'll have an attorney look at it in the morning and let you know by the end of the day. You can stay with her tonite. I don't want you in my house."

The next morning she spoke to Tony who had one of his attorneys read over the divorce settlement and translated it to layman's terms. It was a reasonable settlement if you considered that he wanted nothing to do with her or his daughter, period. The child support was enough that she could afford to stay home. He also demanded that she stop using his name so she legally changed her and Sarah's last names to her maiden name.

Y/N signed and the divorce was final in no time. She stayed away from tabloids and entertainment news so she didn't see too much of Steve and Sharon's 'fairytale courtship' that always forgot to mention the woman and child he walked away from. Bucky was still a regular visitor, coming for dinner at least once a week and having regular movie nights when he wasn't on missions. The rest of the team dropped by occasionally and she had girls nites with Pepper and Wanda.

When Sarah's 3rd birthday approached Y/N realized she was in love with Bucky. He had been her rock when Steve left and a shoulder to cry on. He practically lived in the guest room. The clincher was a few days ago Bucky showed up and Sarah called him dada, both adults melted and the trio shared a laughing, crying hug.

The morning of Sarah's 4th birthday, before her party started. Bucky proposed to both of them, with their own rings, and of course they said yes.

Sarah told everyone as soon as they showed up for her party, proudly showing her ring off. Wanda and Pepper started talking about wedding plans almost instantly and Y/N felt overwhelmed. "I think we just want something simple. Close friends and family are all we need with us."

Six months later they were married at the lake by Tony's cabin and left Sarah with Pepper while they went on their honeymoon in Europe.

On Sarah's 5th birthday Y/N woke up as Bucky pulled her closer and kissed down her neck. He started reaching towards her panties when Sarah came bouncing into the room "Mommy! Daddy! It's time to get up. My party is soon and we hafta get ready."

Bucky grabbed Sarah and started tickling her until she was screaming then kissed her all over her face. "Then I guess we better get moving little girl."

Sarah protested "I'm a big girl daddy, not little anymore. 5 years old!" She showed him her hand with the fingers spread so he could see all five."

Bucky looked at her hand "Well I'll be, you're right" and licked her palm.

Sarah giggled "Eeewwww, Daddy. That's gross." And ran downstairs

Bucky leaned over to kiss Y/N "You heard the little tyrant, its time to get up."

Y/N rubbed her barely there bump "If you think she's a tyrant wait till we're dealing with a newborn."

Bucky rubbed the bump and kissed it with a big smile on his face "I can't wait, doll."

When all the guests were there Bucky quieted everyone down "I have an announcement to make-"

Sarah shouted "I'm gonna be a sister!!"

Bucky smiled "Yeah what she said."

While the team was asking questions about how Y/N was feeling and when she was due another guest arrived with a gift so large their face was obscured.

Bucky let them in "Gifts go on the table right here and there's food-"

When the gift was set down Bucky could see it was Steve and almost felt bad for him. Sharons infidelity had been all over the news. She had been linked with a number of different men.

He looked Steve in the eyes "What are you doing here? This is friends and family only and you're neither." He said coldly

Steve looked at the ground "I, I I uh just wanted to see my daughter and see how Y/N is doing."

"Your daughter? You haven't even spoken to her in 3 years." Bucky bristled

Steve rubbed the back of his neck "I know I know I don't deserve anything from them but I miss Y/N. I made a mistake Buck. Sharon is awful"

Bucky scoffed "I tried to tell you that before your dumb ass left but you wouldnt listen. I won't stop you from seeing them but if Y/N wants you put you're gone."

Steve nodded "I understand but why are you so protective?"

Bucky smirked at him "Follow me she's out back." He walked up to her, holding Sarah while Steve trailed behind.

"Bucky, what are you doing?" Y/N was confused until Steve stepped out feom behind him. She gasped "Steve. What are you doing here?"

"Why now after 3 years?" She questioned sharply "Oh, I know. I read about Sharon. Sarah and I dont need you in our lives. You made a choice 3 years ago and now you get to live with it."

He smiled "I just wanted to see you and Sarah."

Bucky put his arm around her and rubbed her bump. Steve noticed the matching rings they wore and sighed in defeat, leaving quietly before the rest of the guests saw him.

ETA:

4 months later, Steve turns on the news while drinking his coffee and sees his former best friend, ex wife, estranged daughter and a tiny baby in Y/N's arms as the anchor stated "The Avengers White Wolf, formerly the Winter Soldier, and his wife welcome a son, Buchanan James aka Beau. The couple already has a 5 year old daughter, Sarah. Isnt that a beautiful family he has, we wish them all the best."

[northwestmutt]

Let's talk about my POTS!

I recently got a mobility aid to assist me, and I want to talk about that. But I feel like I should give the full backstory of my POTS in a post first, and then my next post will be talking about my mobility aid. Content warnings for covid mention, feet pictures (blood pooling), and medical gaslighting - POTS is short for Postural Orthostatic Tachycardia Syndrome. It is currently described as a dysfunction of the automatic nervous system, which is what controls involuntary things like heart rate, blood pressure, breathing, etc. but some studies incidate that it may also be an autoimmune disorder (though more research is needed on that). The primary criteria for diagnosis of POTS is a heart rate increase of 30 beats per minute or more within 10 minutes of standing up from a resting position. Many experience other symptoms such as lightheadedness, dizziness, shortness of breath, cold and/or discolored hands or feet, fatigue, etc. and some patients even faint. An ongoing issue for patients with POTS is getting a diagnosis. Few doctors or specialists know enough about POTS to test for it, and many doctors even blame it on other disorders such as anxiety.

I developed POTS after having COVID-19 in September of 2022. I was experiencing lightheadedness, dizziness, increased heart rate within a few minutes of standing, blood pooling in my feet, and fatigue. I went to my primary doctor at the time (we will him Dr. J), and he ordered bloodwork, which all came back normal. Dr. J brushed off my symptoms as anxiety and told me to stop drinking caffeine, so I did. I stopped drinking anything with caffeine (soda, coffee, etc.) for about a month, and it made zero change to my symptoms. After kicking caffeine had no change, he reluctantly referred me to a cardiologist. The cardiologist I saw (we will call him Dr. B) had a heavy accent which made communicating with him difficult. I had to rephrase what told him about my symptoms a few different times, and he didn't seem to fully listen or understand what I was saying becuase the only symptom he wrote in my chart notes was orthostatic lightheadedness (lightheadedness when standing). Dr. B did send me off to have more bloodwork done, and have an ACTH stimulation test. All of these came back normal, so Dr. B said he couldn't help me because "it's not a cardiac issue"

So I went back to my primary doctor, and asked him if he would do a heart rate test. He told me he didn't have time for that, and Dr. J basically accused me of "worrying too much" and claimed all of my symptoms were "normal" and that "everyone experiences that" so I should just stop bringing it up. After he said that, I felt like I was being gaslit by him so I switched providers. I made an appointment to see a different provider (he's a nurse practioner, so we will call him NP C. I cant remmeber the full acronym for his degree/job title) and at my very first appointment, he preformed the exact heart rate test I had asked Dr J. to preform without me even asking, and listened to all of my symptoms I was describing. He told me "yeah that's POTS" and I left with a diagnosis of POTS. This was either late October 2023 or early november 2023. I then went to see a different cardiologist who had more experience with POTS, and he agreed it sounded like POTS but ordered a tilt table test to be sure. I had the tilt table test in late December 2023, and the cardiologist who prefomed the test (a third, entirely different cardiologist that I hadn't seen before) confirmed that I had POTS. Unfortunately, I never got a follow-up appointment with the new cardiologist, because he was forced to re-retire due to illness. So I ended up seeing a fourth cardiologist, who didn't know anything more about POTS and POTS treatments than google does. She confirmed the diagnosis that I was given, but wasn't able to offer me any additional treatments. Medications to lower heart rate aren't an option, because my resting heart rate is already the low end of normal, and that taking one would risk bradycardia (low heart heart rate) So it took me over a year to get a diagnosis, after being gaslit by my former primary doctor and not understood by a specialist. But I had my new provider and three different cardiologists all agree that I have POTS. My advice to anyone who thinks they have POTS, but isn't being heard by their doctor, switch doctors if you can. Even if you've been seeing that doctor for years, switch doctors. I had been seeing my former primary doctor since I was a baby, but I couldn't handle being gaslit and accused of making things up anymore. Below is a photo of my feet as an example of blood pooling. Depending on the device you are using to view this, the discoloration in my feet after standing may be less visible/dramatic due to different screens showing different colors. It's more visible and closer to accurate when viewed on a newer phone than it is when I view it on my laptop that I am using to write this post.

[sodajerking]

Guayaki Yerba Mate - sparkling grapefruit ginger

So for those who know me personally, you might know this drink has kind of been my white whale. They are apparently all over the place in the states, being a Walmart and whole foods staple, and my American friends really like them.

They are not readily available here tho. I took a bus all the way out of the city to a Walmart to look for one and couldn't find it. They're not on Walmart's website for my country and Amazon is constantly out of stock of them even if I wanted to import a giant crate of them to my house. I checked all the stores where you normally find foreign sodas and this one just isn't there.

Then I got a text from my friend this week who told me they'd found them in a tiny drink fridge at an imported spice shack in the market downtown and bought a couple of them for us to try when we met up for the eclipse.

Apparently these aren't the same ones my friends get in the USA. The ones that are hyped are the tall boy cans which are non carbonated and, from what I can tell, don't contain stevia. I got the smaller sparkling cans which have different flavours and do contain stevia.

I'll be honest, this won't be a great review, I cracked this can open during the solar eclipse and didn't process how I felt about it because I was mesmerized by the beautiful of the world. The ginger taste was really good, it gave a good kick of energy, the caffeine content must have been high because between that, the cold from the sun disappearing, and my stimulants my extremities became so numb from vasoconstriction I couldn't open the beer Id brought. The downside is really the stevia, I just don't like stevia that much, but there isn't a lot in here so it wasn't like a huge deal.

My friend got the cranberry flavour which I didn't like as much, the ginger is definitely better. There's an original flavour still in my minifridge I might have at work this week. Will update the review accordingly if I have anything to say about it

It was definitely one of the better energy drinks I've had, I will be getting it again if I can find it, but it wasn't like the ratatouille moment I was expecting given how much trouble I've gone thru to get it. Hopefully I'll be able to find the tallboy cans one day and mint melon won't be just a dream anymore.

Solid B. Hope everyone enjoyed the celestial miracle!