#me writing this with half an oreo in my mouth and the other half in my hand as I write more kinktober content

[unluckyhoneybee]

I really think that after this drama he should come back with a big gesture for their relationship. It's a point that either they go big or they go home!!

Part 31. Best friends to lovers. MASTERLIST.

Note: finally I got time to write this.

You were starting to lose hope when you received a call. It had been two months since your break up and the only news you got from Mick were from his mum and sister. But that night, when you were on the sofa with Oreo and Queso, your phone rang.

Mickey❤️

With your heart threatening to come out of your chest, you picked the call.

"Mick"

"H-hi"

You felt a wave of happiness when you heard his voice because you had missed him like mad.

"How are you YN?"

"Um... Good. I'm good. And you?"

You knew well that he hadn't dealt with it in the best ways. Gina had told you about their mum and how angry she was.

"I'm better. A lot better."

You smiled.

"I'm glad"

You had missed him so much, but this time had helped you to grow as a woman.

"I think it's time to talk. If you are ready. I now it took me too long, but with all the traveling and stuff..."

"It's okay Mick. It's the time you needed." You said softly. You were happy because you knew he had tried. When Gina called and said he was doing better, you cried of happiness because you knew he would try. He was your best friend after all.

"I miss you and I have been working on something for you... For us" He said. You could hear his voice. It was raspy and you knew that he was swallowing his tears.

You hear was beating fast. He was fighting to get you back.

"W-what is it?"

"It's a surprise. I want you to come home. My parents' actually."

"Do you want us to meet there?"

"It would be nice, yeah" You heard a light chuckle and smiled.

"Okay"

"On friday?"

"Perfect"

On Friday, you were ringing at the Schumacher doorbell with your legs shaking and a knot in your belly.

When Mick opened the door, you felt the air leaving your lungs. This time had been the longest you had been apart and it was as hard as you thought it would be.

He looked so good, his hair was messy and he was wearing comfy clothes. You wanted to hug him and don't let him go again.

"Hi" He said with a beautiful smile.

"Hi, Mick"

Looking at each other, you felt a bit weird. The last time you saw him was when he took the elevator to your apartment. You were crying and shaking. Now you felt better, you had gone to therapy and worked on some issues. You felt like a new woman and were ready to fight for him.

"You look so beautiful" He said with pink cheeks.

You smiled and blushed.

"Oh Mick. I missed you a lot" You couldn't contain yourself, you walked the steps keeping you apart and hugged him hard. He let a shaky breath out and hugged you back.

He smelled like shampoo and aftershave. He was warm and felt like home.

"I missed you so much too. I can't believe you are back"

You stayed like that for long minutes, just enjoying the other's presence.

"I want you to see something" He whispered.

You looked up and he caressed your cheek.

"But I have to cove your eyes"

Smiling like a kid and with his hands covering your eyes, you followed Mick's indications. You knew the house by heart so you could perfectly picture the path to the huge back garden.

"Okay, be careful. One step, now another, and the last one"

Feeling the lawn on your feet you smiled. You had so many memories there. Half of your life happened there.

"Okay. I'm very nervous. I have worked a lot on this and I hope you like it. It's really important for me and I know it will be for you too. It's the best thing I could think of. So... I'm going to uncover your eyes"

3...2...1...

When you opened your eyes, a gasp left your lips. Your castle. Mick had rebuilt your castle. The one Michael built and years later a storm destroyed it. It was the place where you spent most of your time during your childhood. And he had rebuilt it. It wasn't completely the same, but it was your castle.

Your hands were covering your mouth as you stared at the wooden tree house. His hands were on your shoulders and his chest was almost on your back.

"Mick"

"D-do you like it?"

You turned around and without speaking, you cupped his face and kissed him. He hummed in your mouth and grabbed your waist, pulling you incredibly closer and deepening the kiss. You were starved. It had been too long. Savouring the last bits of the kiss, you pulled back and pressed your foreheads.

"I love you so much, Mick"

"I love you too. I'm sorry for everything"

"I'm sorry too"

He gave you one more kiss and pulled you inside the house. Smiling, you both sat on the cushions he had set.

"It's perfect, Mick" You said leaning on his shoulder" He had snacks and a film protector ready.

"I'm so happy you liked it. It took me a while to build it"

You cupped his chin and kissed his lips.

"How are you?"

"Ready to give it a try. To make it better. I-I learned a lot about myself during this time and... I want this to work. You are the best thing I've ever had and I can't be that stupid to lose you."

You smiled at his words and made him look into your eyes.

"What do you want from me?" You whispered.

"I want you to be happy, to succeed in your life and to become the person you want to be. Even if it cost me seeing you some weekends and you missing some races. It's important that you get your degree and then we will see..."

It brought tears to my eyes.

"I also... I want you back at home. It feels so lonely. I even miss Oreo and Queso." That made you laugh. "And just tell me if anything hurts you. I want to know. I am now aware of how difficult it is for you to stay back at home while I travel the world. I just need you to tell me if something hurts you, okay?"

You nodded.

"I-I want you to talk to me too. If you need something from me. Just tell me, please. I don't want you to be the only one sacrificing things."

"I'm not..."

"You are. I understand that you want me there with you. And that you miss me. A new bed each weekend, shitty races and everything. I'm there for you. If you need me, just tell me. Okay?"

He nodded looking at you.

"It's a matter of talking. We can make it if we talk about things. I really trust you, Mick. We can do it"

He nodded and kissed you again.

You were so glad to have him back.

"How are you? Mum... she made me realize that the problem wasn't really the girl"

You nodded a bit taken aback.

"Yeah... Sometimes I feel that there is better people out there for you. I felt as if I was easy to replace"

"No... No. Don't think that. How am I going to replace all of this? how am I going to find someone more special than you?"

Your eyes clouded with tears.

"Talk about this too, okay? When you feel like this"

You nodded and cuddled onto him.

"I love you" You whispered.

"I love you too. So so much. And... You were right. This was necessary. I'm ready know. I know what I want and what we need"

You hid on his neck.

"I'm so happy with you, Mick"

"So I am. The happiest man alive"

"Are we good now?" You said looking into his blue eyes.

"We are"

"I love you, Mickey. Thank you for building my castle"

"It's what you deserve, YN"

Looking around, you smiled.

"I hope you built it strong because I want our kids to play in here."

"They will. It's super strong"

#mick schumacher #ms #best friends to lovers #f1 blurb #fluff

[drabblemesilly]

Mathew Barzal #6

This was supposed to be a welcome back drabble that I wanted to write. Something short and happy. Instead, it warped into this angsty thing that I don’t think will have inspired anyone. But read it anyway? :)

Tell me if you need another chapter! I already have something on my mind but only if you want me to write it?

Enjoy!

Word count: 862

British Columbia has a running population of roughly 5 million people and yet you still find yourself looking over your shoulder every time summer rolls around. Sure, hockey players tend to congregate in golf courses  or exotic European coastal towns in June. You do not like golf nor do you have the money to buy a ticket to Spain or the South of France but that hasn’t stopped you from expecting to casually bump into Mathew Barzal at the store. 

It was bound to happen at some point. 

Apparently the universe thought so too because, on a seemingly normal Thursday like today, here you are, at the middle of the dairy aisle, a bag of milk on hand, staring at the gloriously, perfectly imperfect face of the one person who has broken your heart. The one that got away and all that jazz. 

His hair is a little longer than usual, the ends curling a little. He has a new bump on his nose that wasn’t there when you saw him last, three years ago. He didn’t seem taller but he looked bigger. Way bigger. And you’re staring. 

How is he still devastatingly beautiful and you, well, you look exactly like someone who hasn’t washed her hair in a long time. 

When you finally managed to close your mouth, you gave him a half-hearted wave, hoping  that your voice wouldn’t break when you said the lamest, “hey.” 

How is his grin looking brighter than your future? “Hi.” 

Clearing your throat, you lifted the milk,  “needed some milk.” 

Oh god, can you get any lamer? 

At least Mat acted like he’s already forgotten how you broke each other’s hearts all those years ago, “I can see that,” he smiled, “still the milk monster,” he quipped, “some things really don’t change, eh?” 

It was meant to be a joke, you knew it was, but fuck if that little sentence didn’t bring you back to reality because yes, you still are a milk monster. You still do your hair the same way, you still have the same job, and you still have clothes you bought from those weekend trips to New York. And yes, you still stalk him from time to time.

 Not that he posts much on social media but there was a time all you wanted was for him to be drafted into a good team or for him to win the Calder. There were a lot of things you had to unlearn the last three years and it hasn’t been easy, if you’re being completely honest. 

You made an effort to look at his cart, “still the cookie monster, I see,” you smiled, nodding towards the boxes of Oreos he had. 

He repeated himself, “some things never change.” 

But some thing do. 

Trying not to be awkward, you continued, “aren’t you supposed to be in a beach somewhere?” 

He laughed, throwing his head back a little, “not for another week.” 

“Of course,” you gave him another smile, hoping against all that is holy that you didn’t look constipated. Lifting the bag of milk, “I guess I better go.” 

He blinked, “sure,” he gestured, “I mean, go ahead, I didn’t mean to keep you,” he hurried. 

You moved to get past him when he caught you by your arm, “you look good,” he said, almost sounding like a whisper. 

He’s so close that you could smell the soap he used this morning. What torture. 

Instead, you snickered, “if by good you mean disarmingly gorgeous then, yes, thank you very much,” you joked. 

“When have you ever looked less than gorgeous, though?” he grinned. 

Giving him a sincere smile this time, “thank you,” he dropped his hand, “keep the compliments coming and maybe I’ll let you buy me milk.” 

“I don’t know about the milk,” he said hopefully, “but I can definitely get you coffee.” 

As much as you wanted the coffee, you are still very much in love with him to let you take you out. You don’t see this ending in any other way than you swinging yourself dramatically on your bed before bawling your eyes out for the next two years. While simultaneously eating all possible ice cream flavors in the world. 

Taking another step, you looked back at him, “I don’t think that’s the best idea,” you told him honestly. 

It’s been  a while since you saw him look disappointed, “yeah,” he breathed, “okay, I don’t know what I was thinking.” 

He’s probably thinking the same thing you are: when it was good, it was great but the highs always came with the lows. He still played for the Islanders and you still lived full time in BC. How has everything changed and yet, really, nothing has? 

“I’m glad you’re doing well Mat, really,” you gave him a lopsided smile, “I’m happy for you.” You really are. 

“I’m glad I bumped into you.” 

You reached out to squeeze his arm, “me too.” 

Turning to leave, he called out to you one last time, “if you find yourself in New York?” 

You nodded, knowing full well it might never happen, “I know where to look for you.” 

“Good,” he nodded. 

“Good.”

________________________________________________________________

Spoiler: She may or may not go to New York in the second part. ;)

#mathew barzal #mathew barzal imagines #hockey imagines #nhl imagines #drabble #drabbles #imagines #fanfic #my writing #New York Islanders

[ahkaahshi]

at this rate, I'm starting to think that eating oreos while writing smut is another part of my personal brand

#fran thinks out loud!! #idk wtf it is but I just always wanna eat em while I write smut *in particular* #me writing this with half an oreo in my mouth and the other half in my hand as I write more kinktober content #just another look inside my stupid antics #why I feel the need to share this I'm not entirely sure but here it is anyway! #but seriously oreos have literally been my brain food since I was like 8 I think lol #every time I got burnt out with homework my parents would give me oreos LOL #I guess it's just comforting for me 😂

[anystalker707]

So pretty, all mine

Pairing: Frank x [enby, afab] Reader Word count: ~ 2 300 Genre: Smut / Fluff Summary: It's a boring day after coming back home from a tour and (y/n) decides to ask Frank if they can peg him - Frank accepts, thinking it's nothing much, just to find out he's so wrong. Kind of content: Reader is very loving <3 / Dirty talk / Praising / Pegging / Subspace

Requested by anon

Being home after so long feels weird, even if it’s far from the first tour we have been on since the start of the band, feeling like in a bus when sitting down for too long or having this feeling something is missing by the time we were supposed to head back to the bus. Sometimes I remember the first times we would come back time from the Bullets and Revenge tours, all tired and like trash, but motivated to write new music.

We’re probably having a longer pause now, on the other hand, considering how long The Black Parade Tour was, just to rest and let things settle down for a bit until the oncoming tour with Linkin Park.

A sigh escapes my lips as I look around the kitchen, hands on my hips. I should do something. Maybe eat something. Fuck, no, I just ate something. Okay, I guess I should practice, then… but that’s not what the pause is supposed to be for. Distracting myself will do, I guess, so watching TV it is.

Sitting down on the couch and turning on the TV makes me feel useless at first, but again, it’s the result of being pulled away from the tour’s routine. Even if slowly, it’ll pass.

My attention averts away from the TV’s screen at hearing footsteps before Frank’s walking into the kitchen, only in a shirt and boxers, standing on his tiptoes as digging through the cabinets in search for something. His shirt falls a few inches below his hips, but rides up with him reaching the cabinets, exposing his ass. Nice ass.

He turns around with Oreos in hands, and raises an eyebrow at me. “Want one?” he asks through the Oreo hanging from his mouth.

“No, but come here.” I make a motion, adjusting my position on the couch – he shrugs, but does so anyway, taking the bag of cookies in hand, and he’s about to sit down by my side when I pull him to my lap instead. He pauses, slowly relaxing against me, eventually continuing to eat; he holds up an Oreo, a bitten one, eyes averting down. I smile. “No, thanks.” I press a kiss to his cheek, hugging him close.

A hum comes from Frank in response and he sighs softly, shifting lightly to make himself comfortable until his head is resting against my shoulder. “What are you watching?”

“I literally just sat down.” My hand slides down to his thigh, my thumb running across the skin and tracing the tattoo there. “Y’know,” I mutter in his ear, tightening my grip around him, “I think we could do something.”

“Something?” Frank asks, sounding halfly immersed in whatever is playing on the TV.

“Yeah.” I take a hold of his jaw, making him face me – he pouts, which makes me smile, brushing our noses together affectionately. “I was wondering if I could peg you. Can I?”

“Fuck, yeah,” he says after a moment, “let’s go.”

Now, that was easy. I raise an eyebrow at him, he just shrugs. Does he– Well, of course he does know what pegging means, he’s not that dumb, I just didn’t know he would react so careless to it. Not bad, so everything is fine.

“Good.” I peck his lips and trail down to his jaw, eventually reaching his neck when he tilts his head to the side, sighing pleased, just to let out a quiet gasp once my teeth sink into a spot a few inches under his ear. Great. “Go upstairs, then.” I slap his thigh softly, chuckling at the groan coming from him.

Frank stands up and heads to the kitchen to leave the rest of the Oreos on the counter before he can go upstairs, but not without looking back at me with a glare – seeing that I’m still smiling maybe gets him more annoyed, continuing his way with heavy and low steps. Okay, gives me more time to watch the back of his thighs.

I’m finally heading upstairs after turning the TV off and putting the Oreos back inside the cabinet, walking into the bedroom to find Frank kneeling down in the middle of the bed, looking at the nothing, hands over his thighs.

The way he accepted it so easily is still in my mind when my shirt meets the ground, but whatever, not like we can’t stop at any moment or anything.

The mattress sinks under my knees as I move towards Frank until settling down, hands cupping his face before our lips are pressed together in a sweet kiss that quickly gains a familiar urgency, with Frank’s hands wrapped around my wrists, pulling me closer to deepen the kiss, eventually pulling me over him. Our lips separate for only seconds among all the shifting, adjusting our positions until Frank’s on his back and I’m over him, a forearm on the mattress to hold myself up, a knee between his spread legs.

“Hm, (y/n),” he mutters against my lips, hands on the sides of my neck, trailing to my hair.

“‘M here, baby.” My lips run along his jaw, soon pressing soft kisses down his neck, peppered in between nibbles and sucking which have his breath quickening, shallow.

My hands drop to Frank’s waist, slipping under his shirt, rubbing circles into the skin. A shaky breath escapes his nose when I reach a spot near his collarbones and he’s tugging on my hair, unable to contain a sound when my thumbs poke under the waistband of his boxers.

Frank’s grasp almost doesn’t let me pull away, only doing so when he notices my intention of getting rid of his shirt, followed by his boxers, revealing his half hard cock, but he seems to have other priorities, pushing his hips up into the air in a useless seek for friction. A grin tugs on my lips at it and I can’t help but to take a grip of his hips, leaving a kiss down his happy trail.

Despite a groan of frustration coming from Frank, I still pull away to get rid of my own clothes, keeping an eye on him to swat his hand away just in time so he won’t touch himself.

“Fuck you!” Frank pouts.

“Behave!” I chuckle, slapping his thigh – he lets out what sounds like a moan at it, jumping.

I can’t really make out Frank’s words, incoherent grumbling; they immediately stop when I’m sitting between his legs with the lube in hand after reaching for it in the bedside table.

“You fine?” I put the tube away to spread the lube on my fingers.

“Of course!” He nods exigently, squirmish.

“Aw, you’re not being a good boy!” I furrow my eyebrows and need to suppress a smile at how quickly Frank’s cheeks turn red as he looks away, what seems like pure frustration being opposed by how hard he’s getting through time. “Just tell me if you need me to stop or something, okay?” I drop the teasing, pressing a kiss to his stomach, and can feel him physically relaxing.

“Right,” he breathes.

His hole flutters under my touch as I trace the ring of muscles, spreading the lube around it before finally pushing a finger in, slowly – he tenses up, clenching around me, but a sound is only slipping past his lips when there’s a second finger and, after a few pushes, finding his prostate is easy.

A breath hitches in Frank’s throat, making a muffled moan come from him once my fingers start pressing against his prostate, massaging the spot; his thighs quiver in poor attempts of moving his hips down against my fingers, coming to a brief stop with a third finger.

“Fuck,” he says, voice tight, but only nods when I look up to check if he’s fine.

My free hand runs up Frank’s torso, running along the skin and feeling it rise under my touch. He moans encouragingly as I start pressing kisses to his tummy, slowly going up his chest and he’s gasping when my thumb runs across his nipple experimentally, hands flying to hold onto my hair, compelling me to continue fondling it and the skin around.

“How does it feel?” I ask against his chest, mostly pressing kisses down to it. He moans in response, in a positive tone. “Use your words, hun.”

“G-Good,” he gasps, tugging at my hair softly.

“Oh, yeah? How good?” I grin, pressing down against his prostate and feeling him quiver as his hips jerk forward. “Are you my good boy, Frank? So small and pretty and cute? Look at how pathetic you are, baby. I didn’t even touch your cock, only fingered your pretty ass so far and you’re already in such a poor state.”

“I– Yeah, I am, fuck– You make me feel very good, oh my God,” he exclaims, voice unusually high. “You make me feel so good, (y/n), please don’t stop, I– Fuck.” He melts. Moans easily fill the room now, not so frequent but loud, constant, coming to an end with a weak complaint and buck of hips after I break contact completely, considering Frank was becoming dangerously tight and urgent.

“Hands and knees, hm?” I press a kiss to his thigh before breaking complete contact to reach for the box under the bed.

“Gimme a moment,” Frank sighs.

“‘M not rushing you,” I chuckle, rummaging through the box and eventually moving to slip on the strap-on and have the toy lubed up.

Something about all of this, making Frank get in such a state, having such a power, is just… amusing, in a way, and maybe I had been wasting my time and should've had this idea before. A squeal comes from him at the slap across the back of his thigh, intensifying the proud feeling in my chest as I kneel behind him, holding his hips up.

“So pretty and all mine, hm?” I mutter against the crook of his neck, my chest pressed to his back. The words are far from something I’d usually say, nonetheless, they snatch a quiet pleading sound from Frank and he doesn’t even answer properly when I ask if he’s ready. “Are you in subspace, love?” Now, what a pleasant surprise.

No answer comes from Frank and I don’t need one, after all – he doesn’t show any discomfort nor says the safe word –, so I carry on. His breath audibly hitches when I’m guiding the toy in, tensing up, so I give him his time, free arm wrapped around his torso and kisses softly pressed to his back among comforting words. When the toy finally sinks in until the base, he’s breathing heavily, head hanging low and hands clenched around the sheets.

“You’re doing so well, hun,” I hum and let my hands wander up and down his waist, soothing and trying to avert his attention away from whatever discomfort.

As a relieved sigh comes from Frank, I grip onto his hips, pulling back before pushing back in and Frank’s moans slowly start to cut through the thick atmosphere of the room with the continuous motions. The way the movements intensify eventually have the toy brushing against me, against my clit, just right to give me the friction I wasn’t even aware that I craved.

“Fuck,” Frank says with a moan, arching his back, quickly followed by a louder moan when I change the angle of the thrusts; his hips move to meet mine. There it is, then, good.

My fingers sink into Frank’s hips for more support, pulling him against me at the same time my hips jerk forward. Fucking whines come from Frank, one after the other, weak cries as his arms collapse under him and he squirms on the mattress and, fuck, how hot can he be?

“Ah,” he breathes, eyes pressed shut, “shit, that’s intense, fuck.”

Not what he thought? No wonder why he accepted so easily. I chuckle – or try to, breathlessly.

“You look so hot like this, baby,” I mutter, one of my hands falling to a space on the mattress next to him. “Didn’t know I could break you like this, huh? ‘Bet you wish I had come up with this before, don’t you? Look at you, you’re loving this!” I grin at how hopeless he becomes, knuckles white around the sheets, gasps escaping his mouths helplessly; I press a kiss to his shoulder. “‘Bet you can’t even think straight right now.” Because, fuck, I can’t. So hot. I might just come from that.

Frank’s lips are pressed together, twitching lightly, but no word ever comes from him. Instead, one of his hands slowly moves down and I slap it away the moment I notice what he wants to do.

“No, no, no!” I click my tongue, taking a hold of his wrist to pin it down to the mattress. “You can come without touching yourself, just like the good boy you are. Are you close, baby? You almost coming?” I press kisses to his shoulder, satisfied with the affirmative hum coming from him. “Gonna make you feel so good,” I mutter under my breath, moving faster, the thrusts heavy and harsher – sending pleasure ringing up my spine –, in a way it doesn’t take long until a loud moan escapes his lips and his thighs are quivering. I take a look at his face, taking in every detail, and I can feel the knot tightening in my lower stomach.

Frank’s eventually coming down from his high with weak sounds and labored breathing, legs twitching lightly with the aftershocks.

Quiet curses escape my lips under my breath while I pull away, watching him collapse to the mattress without much reaction, and get rid of the toy as fast as possible and fucking hell, I barely touch myself before I’m coming, moaning in relief with my fingers sliding against my clit. So pathetic and so good at the same time.

I lie down on the bed next to Frank, pulling into my arms to hug him lovingly, brushing the hair away from his face. He hums softly, eyes slowly opening to reveal the beautiful hazel irises as thin rings around dilated pupils for a moment. Frank says nothing, only burying his face in the crook of my neck.

#n*fw #frank iero #frank iero x reader #mcr x reader #enby reader #mcr imagine #oneshot #smut #frank x reader #frank iero imagine #fanfic #fan fiction #x reader #reader insert #sub frank #bottom frank #imagine #mcr oneshot #mcr smut #fluff #my post

[ackerfics]

the parent trap — levi ackerman (ii)

part one | part three

— levi ackerman x female reader (modern au | the parent trap au)

—warnings: fluff (dad! levi) and an original character that was annoying to write

— summary: altair came home, only to find a thorn wedged in his little family.

— word count: 5.5k

— authors note’s: i finally have a sort of banner hhhhsdjwhd i figured that i should make one for every character that i’ll be writing in this blog so that i won’t run out of gifs. this is long overdue but i was writing this while having breaks from our backlogs the past week. happy reading !!

Levi Ackerman never liked waiting but when it comes to the only living memory he has of you, he was willing to stay under the harsh glare of the Sun’s rays.

He was only standing among the other people waiting for their family members and friends for about thirty minutes and he was already cursing California’s weather. He needed some rain once in a while. As he looked down on the asphalt, the white plane he was anticipating finally landed, the steps rolled down and various people started trickling out. Though his face remained stoic, Levi still craned his neck to get a glimpse of his boy (curse the people standing in front of him, making him realize he’s smaller compared to them), hair the same cut as him and a bright grin that matched the bright California Sun. Eight weeks was a long time and the sight of Altair Ackerman adjusting the duffel bag over his shoulder was making his heart melt.

Was his little boy growing so fast? Because Levi swore there was a new air surrounding his son, the older man watching Altair looking at him all star-struck. 

With a small smile, Levi spread his arms wide and called out, “Come here, brat." He was already anticipating the barreling boy heading straight for him. With a grunt, Levi wrapped his son in a tight hug, lifting him from the ground and planting a kiss on his forehead. Weird, the little boy of eleven always whined about his kisses, saying that he was already nearing his puberty and that he didn’t need them anymore. Levi brushed the thought from his mind, thinking that Altair probably received the kiss because of homesickness, and placed his son on the ground. 

A few seconds passed by and the young Ackerman only stared up at his father like he carried a thousand Suns on his shoulders. Tears were slowly building up in his eyes, wrapping his arms around Levi’s waist and nuzzling his head against his father’s toned stomach. Levi smiled gently, placing one of his hands on Altair’s hair, ruffling it until they’re tousled. “You miss me that much, Al? Well, I kind of agree. Sending you off to the other side of the country was my biggest regret this summer.” When Altair looked up, Levi couldn’t help but smile. “Let’s go home, yeah?”

“So, Dad, how’s everybody at home?” Altair asked, staying close at his father’s side while the black-haired man wrapped his arm around the little boy’s shoulders. “How are Petra and Uncle Eyebrows doing?”

Levi had to hold back his small scoff of laughter. “Petra is fine, she’s doing a number on the house because you’re finally home. Eyebrows will be visiting tomorrow but there’s a package from him waiting for you in your room as we speak.” He pushed the button of his car keys, unlocking their Jeep Wrangler and walking away for a moment to place his son’s bag in the backseat. “In short, they’re great and they can’t wait to see you.” He glanced at his little boy, who was standing patiently, and instantly thought that the summer camp mellowed out his brazen personality. Nodding his head towards the car, the two of them immediately set off to their part of town. “A lot has been happening around here during the eight weeks you were away. So don’t be surprised at what you’ll find at the house when we go back home.”

“A lot has happened to me, too, Dad,” Altair stated, his eyes focused on the cityscape passing by. He turned to his father with a half-smile. “I feel like I changed to be a more rational person.”

“Wow, summer camp was a good thing for you, huh?” Levi answered, silver eyes on the road ahead. “To think you said that. You must be getting old. Please don’t, I much preferred you to be my little boy for as long as it will take. What got you thinking this way when you’re at camp?”

The little boy shrugged. “Nothing, it’s just, seeing you for the first time,” he saw how Levi glanced at him so he quickly picked up, “in a long while made me realize a few things, Dad.”

“Wow, you sound so grown-up. It’s almost like you’re a new person.”

Altair froze for a moment before laughing. “By the way, Dad, you look taller to me earlier, too.”

“You didn’t have to go there, brat.” A comfortable silence enveloped the father and son until, “Oh, I forgot to mention, there’s some Oreos in the dash. You’re probably hungry after the flight.”

The raven-haired boy didn’t think twice in opening the compartment in front of him, gleefully clutching the pack of Oreos his father bought for him. After thanking Levi, Altair stuffed his face with the decadent biscuits that the former couldn’t prevent his small laughs from coming out. His son was a tough cookie but when it comes to his favorite treats, he instantly turns into a gushing, excited kid his age. 

It reminded him of you actually. 

As the tall buildings turned into lush green sceneries, his mind drifted to the memories he always clung to at random times. This time was one of those random moments when his mind was filled with thoughts of you. The divorce hit him like a thick wall but he couldn’t deny that he agreed to it because he knew you were happier with that. Who knows? You could be married to another person in your home country and Levi didn’t have a clue, mainly because he had to put up this façade that he doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore. He felt guilty seconds after telling Petra to take down any framed pictures of you around the house because he couldn’t fathom looking at your beautiful face again. But as they entered the emerald sea of tea trees, Levi played the memory of when you first met. It was by chance, really — he just happened to be at the same place at the same time with you during college. He remembered how you effortlessly carried yourself without a care, how you listened to your friend blabber about certain topics.

For some reason, he couldn’t take his eyes away from you.

It was safe to say that Levi felt an arrow passing by his chest and suddenly, all he could think about is you.

“The plantation is absolutely breathtaking, Dad.”

Altair’s voice interrupted his thoughts, his eyes glancing at the little boy who was in a trance while staring into the tea trees. He slightly furrowed his eyebrows at the use of vocabulary. While watching his son grow up, he never once heard him exclaim his awe of things that way. There are exceptions, of course, but not that much. It almost sounded like how you would always describe Levi’s eyes, sending the gray-eyed man’s heart thumping in his chest at the mere thought of it. He tried calming down his fast heartbeat but to no avail as he kept picturing you with the softest eyes, feather-like hands, and voice suited for a lullaby that were always the subjects of his dreams at night. Those dreams were mainly the reason why he chose not to sleep, spending the early morning hours in the kitchen while indulging in his son’s favorite combination, which is disgusting but tastes so well together. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself and responded a hum to what his son said.

“You sound like you haven’t seen the plantation in forever,” Levi joked, missing how Altair once again froze, the latter’s eye twitching as he squirmed in his seat.

“Uhm, I think it’s because I’m so used to tall trees the past eight weeks, Dad.” Altair laughed lightheartedly, dismissively waving his hand. “But,” he prolonged the word, “if there’s something at camp that stresses me out, I’ll just picture our plantation in my mind. It sort of gives me peace for a couple of minutes until a brat comes up to me, challenging my position as the fencing champion for one week.”

“A fencing challenge?”

“Yeah, Dad, he was pretty awesome,” Altair shrugged.

“So you made a friend?”

The little boy turned to the dark-haired man with an expression of disbelief. “Your tone sounds like you don’t believe me. Have you no faith in your son, Dad?”

Levi scoffed a laugh. “I don’t mean it like that. I’m genuinely curious about this brat you’re talking about and how he challenged you for the title of fencing champion in the summer camp. I don’t know,” he shrugged, one hand raised in the air, “does he even treat you well? Or was he scared because of how you look at people? You got that from me apparently. I just don’t want my brat being shunned by others, okay? I was actually worried the whole time you’re away. Worried for the people there, that is. Because they’re missing out on this amazing boy.”

The older Ackerman’s rambles made Altair chuckle. There was always something when his dad took off in the worried state — it made his heart warm and he couldn’t help but answer the main question posed by Levi. Altair hummed under his breath, eyes set on the roof of the car, phrasing his answer so that it wouldn’t reveal too much. Stuffing an Oreo in his mouth, he muttered. “Actually, he was courteous, Dad.”

The dark-haired man glanced at his son, shaking his head at how the crumbs clung to the side of Altair’s mouth. Taking one of his hands from the steering wheel when he saw they were the only ones driving under the canopy of trees, Levi reached out and quickly cleaned his son’s face free of Oreo crumbs. Going back to focusing on the road, he slightly smiled, voicing out his question, “'Courteous’?” Levi turned to his son, who was conspicuously grimacing and hiding it by eating another Oreo. “What, all of a sudden you’re so proper?” The man’s gray eyes flickered to his son’s fingers. Taking the boy’s hand, he examined them for a moment before going back to the road. “You’re still biting your nails, huh?”

Altair perked up, his voice becoming pitchy, covering it with a cough. “Dad, you noticed!”

“What do you mean by ‘noticed’? You’ve been biting them since you could chew. The number of times we had to tell you to stop is ingrained in my brain so why would I only notice that now?”

The onyx-haired boy turned his body so that he would be directly facing Levi. Blinking, he escaped his dad’s question with a, “But I’ve decided to stop it, Dad. I finally realized how horrid it is as a habit, Dad.”

“There you go again. ‘Courteous’, ‘horrid’. I’m pretty sure I didn’t send you to finishing school.” Levi smiled. “And why do you keep saying ‘Dad’ in every sentence? Not that I don’t like it but I just noticed it since your plane landed.”

Altair chuckled lowly. “I’m sorry, I didn’t realize I was doing it, Dad.” When Levi made a full laugh, the little boy grinned. “So sorry, Dad.” The two shared a few laughs before Altair cleared his throat. “Do you know why I kept saying ‘Dad’? You want the truth?”

“’Cause you missed your old man so much?”

A sad smile painted the gray-eyed boy’s lips, making sure that Levi didn’t turn his head to catch his melancholic mood. He chose to look out the window to avoid tearing up while staring at his father’s side profile. “Exactly. It’s because my whole life,” he cursed at the slip-up, “I mean, you know, for the past eight weeks, I was never able to say the word ‘Dad’ at all. Not even once. If you ask me, a father is an irreplaceable person in a kid’s life. The friend who challenged me to a fencing competition had no father to take care of them, to see them take their first steps or hear their first words. It got me thinking that there are probably kids my age who didn’t see their fathers even once, let alone call someone ‘Dad’. I mean, there’s this whole day dedicated to celebrating all the fathers in the world. I couldn’t imagine a life without you, Dad. I couldn’t imagine not saying ‘Hi, Dad!’ or ‘How’s the tea shop, Dad?’. Something will always be missing if I didn’t have you.”

Levi’s heart melted, his insides turning into a gushing mess at the words of his son. He couldn’t even imagine his life without his little him, following around like a lost duckling when he was a toddler learning how to walk. He couldn’t imagine his days without his boy reaching his chubby arms just for him to lift his cuddly body in his arms. He couldn’t imagine his nights without reading a bedtime story to a drowsy Altair, eyes looking at him as if every story is worth listening to. The first part of Altair’s little monologue reminded him of the other bundle of joy that the nurse gave him when you gave birth all those years ago. He swore that day that he will shower equal love and affection on his two brats but it turns out, it wasn’t meant to be. The other half of Altair was far into the sea with you and there was a time that he wanted to visit, however, the strength never came into him. But for now, he was thankful that Altair got home safe and sound, no scratches and face lighting up with precious emotions.

“Holy shit.”

Levi laughed at the curse. “Now you’re sounding like your old self.”

Altair’s eyes widened at the arch welcoming the car to the estate. Your name was in bold letters, vines of vibrantly colored flowers making the entrance even more magical. The little boy glanced at Levi and he could see how the older man’s eyes turned soft at the name, his shoulders drooping slightly as if he finally entered into an ethereal place. Facing forward, Altair had a conclusion. Levi Ackerman, his father, is still very much in love with you, his mother. His insides were buzzing with excitement and he couldn’t wait to phone someone from across the sea at his discovery. The plan was coming together and he didn’t even start a thing.

The house was more than what was described to the gray-eyed boy. Every wall was covered with groomed vines, splashes of color can be seen because of the flowers growing between the greens. It looked like a manor in those romance movies he watched a few years back. A balcony above the main doorway overlooked the driveway and front yard. The air was so clean that the little boy rolled down the windows and took a deep breath, the therapeutic yet faint smell of tea wafting through the perimeter of the house. Without another word, Altair stepped out of the car once Levi parked it at the side of the front yard. His eyes were full of stars as he looked up at the two-story building in front of him, the maroon of the bricks and the green of the vines calming his pounding heartbeat in the best way possible. A bark from the balcony made him crane his head, the fur of a golden retriever catching his eye. 

He was finally here — he was home.

“Oh, my God, he’s home!”

A shout came from the inside of the house, shocking Altair from eyeing the canine on the balcony. He could faintly hear Levi snickering behind him as the older man took out his bag from the backseat of the car. A woman of short strawberry blonde hair was running towards him, under the arched front door, and then engulfing him in a warm hug with her thin yet firm arms. This must be Petra, his nanny and head maid of the household. He reciprocated the embrace, nuzzling his head on the woman’s neck. She smelled of spice and a hint of orange and Altair found himself craving some juice in an instant. Pulling away from the woman, he found out how pretty she is. Freckles dotted her cheeks, eyelashes framing warm brown irises, and a smile that can blind him at any second.

“Look at you!” Petra tried measuring Altair’s height with a hand, exclaiming, “Oh, you grew! We miss you so much!” Patting the boy’s shoulders with her hands, she leveled her stare with Altair. “Don’t you dare let your old man talk you out of going back to camp, okay? You need adventure every once in a while.”

“Okay.”

“You hungry?”

Altair shrugged with a smile.

“I made cornbread, chili, and I squeezed some orange for some juice, too.” Petra noticed how Altair kept staring at her with a sad smile, piquing her interest. “Hey, bud, why are you so quiet? Is something wrong?”

“I think he needs to take a shit from all the traveling,” Levi interjected, the orange duffel bag on his shoulder and one of his hands inside a pocket of his jeans. 

“No!” Altair yelled, cheeks aflame with heat, and eyes flittering between the two laughing adults. “I don’t feel like taking a shit … it’s just, I,” he paused, inhaling tea-scented air, “I just miss home so much and I’m happy to finally be here.” 

With Petra’s arm wrapped around Altair’s shoulders, the two followed Levi into the house. The strawberry blonde woman kept glancing at the little boy at her side, sensing something amiss from how he acted. There was something not clicking for Petra and it flared, even more, when Levi’s dog, Captain, came running from the second floor to give Altair a welcoming. Only it wasn’t that warm and cuddly welcome the boy received from the two adults, it was full of barks and growls from the golden retriever directed towards Altair. Pushing the doubts from her mind, Petra had to intervene since Captain showed no sign of stopping and Altair was stuck on the wall.

“What is wrong with you, you goofball,” Petra scolded the dog, gently putting her hands on the canine’s head and ruffling his fur. “This is Altair.”

“I think it’s because I smell like camp,” Altair murmured, stepping away from the dog with small steps until he found himself in the living room. Behind him, Petra was telling the dog that it seems like he doesn’t recognize one of his owners and Altair took everything inside him not to flinch at the remark. However, the interior design of the living room caught his eye and the worries building up inside his mind vanished in an instant. There was a huge fireplace in front of an arranged long couch and armchairs. Paintings were placed immaculately around the room, matching with the color palette of browns and beiges. Overall, it looked like a manor and Altair was in awe that he spoke in a British accent, forgetting his crafted persona. “Wow, this is better than the pictures.”

“Kiddo, what do you want to do first?” Petra called out as she entered the living room. She straightened one throw pillow on the long couch before turning to the little boy who schooled his features into a blank one. “Do you want to eat and then unpack, or we could unpack and eat? Or we could eat while we unpack.”

“You mean I can eat in my room?”

Petra furrowed her brows, crossing her arms across her chest. “Well, yeah, that’s a definite possibility.”

“Al,” Levi shouted from the kitchen, hands occupied with a bowl of chili and a spoon. “When you’re done, come on down. I want you to meet someone.” Levi glanced at Petra, who was pursing her lips, knowing who this person Altair’s going to be introduced to. The gray-eyed man narrowed his eyes slightly as if telling his friend to not tell the boy before him. “The chili’s good, Petra, thank you.” He then turned around to get some more chili for the guest, brushing off how Petra rolled her eyes.

“Okay, Dad!” Altair yelled.

“Okay, Al,” Levi replied, a smile can be heard in his voice.

The little boy’s eye followed his father until he went out the patio with two bowls of chili. Everything blanked out when he saw Levi placing one of the bowls in front of a woman dressed in a tight-fitting dress. Altair couldn’t see the face of the woman but he could tell she was way younger than his dad. Levi kept standing at the other side of the table, with the woman leaning forward, probably trying to impress his father.

“Hello, handsome,” the woman said in a sultry voice.

“Hello,” Levi replied in a flat voice, hands gripping his bowl of chili.

“So did you tell him?”

“I was getting to that but he was tired and he needs to unpack. It won’t hurt to be patient since you’re only a guest here.”

The woman scoffed. “And chili? Really, Levi?”

“Mr. Ackerman.”

“Ooh, kinky.”

“Tch.”

Altair leaned towards Petra’s side, dropping his voice in a whisper. “Tell me what?”

“We’ll talk about this in your room, Al,” Petra whispered right back, steering the boy to the stairs but not before glancing back at the two people on the patio. She hoped Levi will take care of this situation before it gets worse. “Even though your father told me with a glare to never tell you this first, I might have to because we don’t want you snapping at that woman. It’s best to keep a clear mind when around her.”

Altair dropped his duffel bag on the floor when they finally entered the safety of his room. There was a wrapped parcel with a card saying, ‘welcome home’, and Altair concluded that this was Erwin’s gift. Petra and he sat on the floor, the woman opening the bag and taking out the topmost items. She handed the camera to a distressed Altair, pursing her lips at how the boy’s thoughts can be seen in his eyes. While she was taking out some of his clothes, Altair stood up and went to his window overlooking the wide backyard. The little boy’s eyebrows met again in a glare that mirrored his father’s too much as he looked down from his window, distaste, and confusion evident on his scowl. Petra sighed, knowing that if Altair wasn’t told what the truth is, he will be in one of his moods where not even a plate of chili and a pack of Oreos can quell his snappy attitude.

“Trust your dad, kiddo,” the strawberry blonde tried for a casual tone.

“Who’s that?”

“That woman is Cynthia Maryland from San Francisco,” Petra answered, patting her lap from imaginary dust, and crossed the room to stand beside the boy. “She was this publicist, or so she claims, and tried to strike a deal with your dad regarding the ongoing popularity of your tea shop and its branches. That is why I told you to watch what you say to her, just a snap of her fingers and she will paint the tea shop and your family in a bad light. But it seems like she’s selling something other than tea.” The two of them watched the Cynthia woman try to wrap her arm around Levi’s, the latter snatching his limb at the speed of light and walked ahead, ignoring the whines of the young woman as he relayed the ideas that revolved around her work. The message that Levi wasn’t interested in her didn’t reach the brunette woman, following him with eyes filled with faux adoration that made the two grimace. “Ugh, disgusting. She’s taking the word desperate to another whole level.”

Altair narrowed his eyes. “I think the word desperate has her picture on the internet. Why is she so adamant?”

“Of course, it is. Look at it this way; your father is this grumpy, middle-aged, short man and that woman is a young, pretty thing begging for his time of the day. Who in their right mind would try to suck up to him these days? I mean, not that I was describing Levi as this unattractive man but I saw her in the city bank last time I was out for groceries, and let me tell you, that woman is a snake trying to check your dad’s worth. Al, do you think there’s really something going on between them?”

“So she wants him for his money?”

Petra nodded, ruffling the boy’s hair affectionately. “That’s about right, kiddo.”

“Does he like her?”

“You have to hear from your dad about that.”

And that was what Altair wanted to know, giving Petra a quick wave and running downstairs to where the woman had his father in her clutches after changing into some swimming shorts and a shirt. There was no way that this was happening. His father who didn’t bat an eyelash on any woman the past eleven years was giving this stranger attention. Everything in the plan will be in shambles if this goes on. The poor boy’s mind was a mess and it became worse when he stepped out into the pool, the sight of his father standing beside the lounging chair with the young woman lying on it like she owned the house. His father’s back was to him so he couldn’t discern what expression he had as he stared down at the woman flaunting her figure for all the plants in the poolside to see. The woman was talking about something until Altair caught her eye, the little boy controlling himself from flinching.

“There’s the little man of the hour!” Cynthia gleefully announced, waving her hand high in the air.

Levi turned around and his hardened gaze became soft at his panting son. Glancing at the woman on the chair with unreadable eyes, he murmured, “I’ll be back with the new brew. You can keep my son company while he swims.” He tenderly ruffled Altair’s hair as he passed by the boy, giving him a rare, breathtaking smile. “Behave, Al.”

The woman grumbled along the lines of not introducing her to Altair but she quickly changed her face into a kind one as she faced the boy. Upon seeing the blank expression on the gray-eyed boy, Cynthia tried to liven up the atmosphere. “Hey, sweetie,” her eye twitched when Altair visibly scrunched his nose in disgust, “my name is Cynthia Maryland and I’m a special friend of your father’s.” She sat up in the lounge chair, straightening her posture to make an impression on the kid. With an award-winning smile, Cynthia continued, “I can’t believe I’m finally meeting the famous Altair Ackerman that everyone has been talking about. I actually looked forward to this all summer!”

“Really? Well, here I am.”

Cynthia cleared her throat at the still icy look Altair was giving her. “You’re so adorable. The way your father talked about you, I was expecting a sweet little toddler but here you are, already nearing adolescence. The way he talked about how you’re the most special person in his life right now, it’s so heartwarming and probably the reason why I like him.” Altair rose an eyebrow at this. “Enough about me, the spotlight is on you, young man.”

“I’m nearing twelve.” Altair tilted his head. “How old are you?”

Cynthia giggled. “Twenty-four.”

A fake gasp rang through the air. “Only thirteen years older than me. You’re practically my older sister. You know, I never had a sibling. Must be nice to be recognized by Dad and be well-acquainted with the rest of the family members before you get adopted. It’s a good thing Dad’s the one adopting you. He takes great care of our dog so I’m sure he’ll take care of you like he takes care of Captain, too.”

“Excuse me?”

A ringing phone broke the conversation, the noise coming from Cynthia’s glittery purse. The brunette suppressed a groan of annoyance, schooling her features in a close-lipped smile while taking out her phone. Altair didn’t think twice turning around and sitting at the edge of the pool. His eyes never strayed from the blue waters, ears perked up to eavesdrop from the pesky woman. If a stranger saw him at the moment, one would think he was thinking of murdering the pool but he never strayed his gaze from the water, his low laugh of disbelief ringing through the vicinity at the woman’s words. It seems like she was telling someone off and that she was taking care of things perfectly in the Ackerman estate.

“I’m sorry to inform you but Levi will be out of the country at the date of your visit. I’ll call you later, bye.” Cynthia sat up on the chair, placing both of her elbows on top of her knees, and leaning forward to regard the little boy who swiveled his head too quickly when he heard his father going out of the country. “So, Al, how was camp? Was it fabulous?”

 “Dad is flying out of the country? For what?”

Cynthia laughed, glancing at her phone. “Oh, no. I just had to tell a little white lie to get him out of something. You know, Al, I have never heard a man talk about his son the way that Levi talks about you. You two are incredibly close but seeing the two of you together, well, it’s like he has a little him.”

“Well, we’re closer than close.” Altair stood up from the side of the pool and took his shirt off, leaving him in his swimming trunks. Glancing at the woman, who was faking a smile, he responded with a fake one as well. “We’re all each other has like always.” He made a cannonball in the pool, splashing water everywhere. There was a shriek of surprise from Cynthia, screaming about her designer dress and make-up, to which Altair didn’t hold back his smirk. Emerging to the surface, he shook his head before planting an innocent smile on his face. “Sorry. Did you get wet, Cecilia?”

“It’s Cynthia!”

“Oh, my bad, Cindy.”

Cynthia groaned in aggravation, her kind façade dropping. “And it just splashed on my clothes. Don’t worry about it, Al.” She tried making herself presentable again with a strained smile. Her hand raked through her curled brown locks, ruffling them for a little volume and flipping them over her shoulder. She walked towards the side of the pool, her heels clanking against the stoneworks. It was Altair’s least favorite sound now, along with her horrendous giggles that were too high and pitchy. He’d rather prefer your soft laughs that seem to sound like fairies but that thought was interrupted when Cynthia crouched in front of Altair, her smile hiding something sinister behind those bloody red lips. “Hey, guess what. I know your dad has been lonely—“

“He’s not lonely,” Altair cut off with a blank face.

“I know he’s not lonely,” Cynthia rolled her eyes. “But your mother has been out of the picture the moment you were born. It appeared to me that she couldn’t handle the responsibility of taking care of an infant so she left.” 

Lies.

“Levi told me one time while we were riding about out how lonely he was without someone to lay in bed or to make love with.” 

Disgusting.

“So I expressed my feelings for him because the more time we spent together, the more time I fell in love with a man like your father. He was everything.” 

Do you mean, he has the money?

“I was genuinely surprised when he told me he felt the same way and before you knew it, we were dating. He told me while on a date last week that he wishes for you, Al, to have a mother’s love and affection, and with it, he proposed to me.” 

Bloody woman, she’s ruining the plan!

“I would like to be a great mother to you, Altair Ackerman. I would shower you with all the love your mother couldn’t give you because she’s too selfish.”

A static noise rang around Altair, his eyes murderous on the smug woman by the pool.

“I have the new brew—Al, are you alright? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” Levi slid his sharp eyes on Cynthia. “What did you tell my son?

Her grin was like the devil. “Nothing, Levi, just the truth.”

Altair only looked down with gritted teeth and teary eyes, murmuring along the lines of, “Mum is not selfish. She’s every good thing here.”

That night, Altair locked himself in the bathroom, his phone in hand. Dialing a very familiar number, he waited for the other person to pick up with half-lidded eyes. When his voice answered the phone, Altair immediately dropped his American accent. “It’s me. We have a major problem here. A pest made herself known. What’s your situation over there?”

#aot #snk #aot x reader #snk x reader #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyoujin x reader #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman x you #modern au #i hate writing whiny bitches hhhhswujd #levi #rorywrites

[withcolebrock]

Lover of Mine~ Chapter 11

Lover of Mine~5 seconds of summer

Masterlist

Warnings: angst, swearing, I think that’s it

Word Count: 2,171

Author’s Note: ha ha ha long time no see ay? anyways... School is ending so now I finally have time to write and motivation to do it. No promises on consistent uploads but slowly starting to write again yay lol. Anyways. I want to strictly write for this series to get it finished lol

She sat down onto the barstool, laying out a napkin and placing the tray of Oreos in front of her. She sighed as she slowly ripped open the package. She took a few out of the tray and set them down on top of the napkin. She slowly began eating them. It was late, around noon. Yet the house was almost spotless, which was shocking due to the amount of people at the party.

Her appearance probably wasn’t the best. She never wiped off her makeup from last night, or what was left of it. Her hair was tied up away from her face and her merch hoodie and small shorts were covering her body. She didn’t care, all she wanted was to just simply eat her Oreos and return to her room.

But her plan was ruined when Jake walked past her. He glanced towards her, simply just to say hi. But he had to do a double take, seeing her appearance. “You look like shit,” he said walking towards the fridge. She didn’t respond; instead she reached for another set of Oreos from the package. Jake took a long sip of his orange juice as he started walking towards Y/N. “What happened to you?” he asked, leaning his body over the countertop.

“Mike and I broke up,” she mumbled with a mouth full of Oreos. Jake's eyes widened as he leaned his body back.

“Oh god, I’m sorry,” he responded, Y/N shrugged. “Do you want to talk about it?” he continued. She shook her head as she reached for a sip of Jake’s orange juice. He handed her the glass without hesitation. Ever since moving into the house, she had gotten close with Jake. He was definitely like her little brother. He was easily her favorite roommate. “Well if you decide you want to, I’m here,” he smiled a tight lip smile as he leaned his body against the counter again.

“Thanks Jake,” she met his eye briefly, he nodded his head as he took another sip of his drink. Not long after a giggling girl's voice was heard in the other room. It slowly got closer. Jake furrowed his eyebrows as he straightened his body. He shifted his gaze between Colby and the red haired girl standing beside him. He clenched his jaw while looking down towards Y/N. He was trying to warn Colby, that this wasn’t a great time.

“We were just grabbing some water,” Colby muttered while he left Olivia standing beside Y/N. He quickly walked towards the fridge. Olivia stared down towards Y/N with disgust written all over her features. Olivia didn’t understand how someone could look like that. Y/N looked towards Jake, she let out a long sigh before shifting her gaze towards Olivia.

“I’m sorry about last night, I need to learn to knock,” her apology fell flat with Olivia. She simply just nodded, keeping to herself. Colby shook his head as he handed a bottle to Olivia and he opened his own.

“No, it was my fault, I forgot to lock the door,” he forced a smile as he looked into Y/N’s eyes. He noticed her rough looking appearance and all he wanted to do was pull her into a hug. But he didn’t know if he should with Olivia standing beside him. Y/N simply forced a smile as she shifted her gaze back to her cookies. “Are you okay?” Colby asked, leaning his body back.

Jake’s eyes widened as he looked towards Colby, shaking his head slightly. She lifted her head slightly, meeting Jake’s gaze. He relaxed his features, pretending he wasn’t doing anything. After a few moments of silence, Jake and Y/N communicated with just their eyes. He nodded his head slightly, while he looked towards Colby. “Her and Mike broke up last night.” Colby widened his eyes, looking down towards her. He was happy to see that she was finally out of that relationship. “Oh, I’m sorry, If I had known-”

“It’s fine,” she interrupted as she stood up from the stool, she avoided his gaze as she took a few steps away from the small group, “I’m going to shower,” she whispered quickly heading towards the staircase. Once she was out of their sight, she felt tears begin to form in her eyes. She was completely overwhelmed, everything in her just wanted to collapse.

She entered her bathroom and shut the door quickly. She leaned against the countertop letting out a small sob. She hit her hand against the counter a few times before she looked back up towards her reflection. Her phone began to buzz beside her, she looked down to see Mike’s name. A heart still after his name. She sighed, as she quickly wiped under her eyes.

She answered the call, “Hi,” she pressed her quivering lips together. He didn’t say anything at first on his end of the phone. He heard the shakiness in her voice, he sighed.

“Hey,” he mumbled, “I just wanted to call because I have your stuff here, and I wanted to give it back to you,” he spoke quickly, he didn’t want to hear the sadness in her voice. She didn’t respond. “Do you want to come over later to pick it up and you can give me my stuff?” She rolled her eyes.

“Yeah, I can do that, I’ll see you later,” she said, ending the call almost instantly. She placed her phone down onto the counter harshly. Another sob left her lips as she started getting ready for her shower.

~~~

“I’ll call you,” he muttered as he shut the door. He sighed, quickly walking back towards the kitchen towards Jake. He walked in on Jake pouring himself another glass of orange juice. “Did Y/N say anything? Like why?” he questioned quickly. Jake shook his head as he took a sip.

“All she said was they broke up and she didn’t want to talk about it,” he shrugged. Colby clenched his jaw as he dropped his head slightly. He ran his hand across the back of his neck. Colby sighed as he walked away from Jake and the kitchen. Jake stared at Colby as he walked away from him. “Okay, bye then,” he muttered as he pulled his phone out of his hoodie pocket.

Colby jogged towards the stairs and began to run up them quickly. He walked towards Sam’s room. He needed to vent to someone who had known the events of the last night. He walked towards the door and raised his hand to the door and knocked repeatedly. “Alright, alright, come in,” Sam groaned from inside the door.

Colby walked into the room, glancing towards Katrina sitting on the bed. He looked back towards Sam who was standing in the middle of the room. “Dude, what?” he was annoyed, while apologetically looking towards Katrina.

“I need to talk to you about last night,” Colby ran his fingers through his hair as he looked desperately towards Sam. Sam's eyes slowly widened as he glanced towards Katrina before he followed Colby out of the room. Sam shut the door behind him before they walked towards Colby’s room just across from them. Colby shut the door behind them as he locked it.

“Did you tell her?” Sam asked excitedly. He had been waiting for this moment ever since high school. Colby shook his head as he ran his fingers through his hair. “Then what happened?” Sam sighed, not afraid to hide his disappointment.

“They were fighting and he said something that ticked me off, so I left. I never got to tell her and then I found out this morning that they broke up,”

“Well that’s perfect then? You can tell her!” he jumped slightly as he got more excited with the idea.

“I can’t,” he whispered while rubbing his hands together, “She-it’s not that-I” he took in a long breath, “I heard her say she wasn’t in love with me,” as the words left his lips he felt his heart ache. Sam’s mouth dropped slightly, he didn’t believe it. Colby and Y/N may be oblivious but he wasn’t, he can see right through that.

“Her and Mike broke up for a reason, I think you should still tell her,” Sam explained.

“It’s not that simple, dude,” Colby interrupted.

“Why not, I know she feels the same, she just doesn-”

“She walked in on me with Olivia last night,” Colby blurted out. Sam stared at him dumbfounded. He shook his head as he licked his lips.

“That is probably the dumbest thing you've ever done, you know that?” Sam sighed while he rubbed his eyes with his hands. He let out a long sigh as he pulled his hands from his face, “You can’t just sleep around when you are in love with someone else, Colby,”

“I know,”

“Then why did you?”

“I was drunk and mad,” Colby responded. He clenched his jaw repeatedly while he kept his gaze to the floor. “I should’ve gone to her after she saw us. I just-”

“Wanted to get laid? Yeah, I know,” Sam let out a puff of air as he turned around and walked back into his bedroom. Colby glanced towards the bed Katrina was laying on before the door was shut in front of him.

~~~

It had been a few hours since she called Mike, she spent those hours making herself look presentable and collecting all of Mike’s things. There were endless thoughts running through her head. She recounted every word that Mike said last night and every response she had. The more the argument went through her head the more she realized Mike was right.

Y/N began to recount every last moment with Colby since moving here. Their Friday movie nights, the words they shared, the hugs that probably lasted too long but what she always cherished. “Well, who’s your favorite guy?” he questioned, his voice was hopeful as his eyes flickered around her features. She half smiled.

“You,” she spoke softly, “Is that even a question?” she laughed as she lightly hit his arm. He beamed as he let out a sudden laugh. “You’ve been there, you’ve been there for everything. Am I suddenly supposed to forget all that because I’ve been dating some guy for like eight months?” she explained, Colby’s mouth fell open as he tilted his head to the side. “Damn, I’m a horrible girlfriend,” she covered her face with her hands again, a groan leaving her lips.

“You are not a horrible girlfriend, Tink. He’s just worried he might lose you,” she slowly moved her hands away from her face as she kept her gaze towards the ceiling. Colby’s eyes looked over her. He’d admired the way her eyelashes curled upward and the color of her eyes, the way her cheeks were slightly flushed. “You wanna watch a movie, get your mind off of things,” he whispered. She nodded slightly as she slowly tilted her head towards Colby.

Her mind went blank as she looked into his eyes. They were soft, familiar, for a second she felt as if in that moment time stopped. Her heart started to beat out of her chest, as her gaze shifted towards his lips. She felt herself leaning towards him subtly. Colby doing the same. Yet the move was so small that neither of them noticed each other leaning in.

She shook her head slightly at the memory. Her cheeks flushed at the thought, he wasn’t just her best friend. She covered her face with her hands as she felt herself become embarrassed and guilty. She lifted her head as the door beside her was pushed open, “Hey, wanted to see how you were doing,” he smiled. She looked up towards him, suddenly seeing him in a new light. Her heart began to beat quickly as she looked over his features.

“I’m alright,” she mumbled, shifting her gaze back towards her mirror. She ran her fingers through her recently dried hair. Picking up her mascara, she opened it avoiding Colby’s gaze.

“What are you doing?” he asked again, walking into the room fully. She ignored him while she applied the makeup to her eyelashes.

“Going to Mike’s to grab my stuff,” she said, closing the mascara bottle. Colby nodded, looking at the small collection of items that looked like they belonged to Mike. Colby sighed as he sat down next to the items. He ran his fingers through his hair looking towards her through the mirror.

“Do you want me to come with you?” he said leaning backwards on his hands.

“No, it’s fine, I want to go alone,” she whispered. She mostly thought it would be a better situation if Colby wasn’t there. He sighed while he kept her gaze through the mirror. “Thank you though,” He nodded slightly while he admired her features. He wanted to say it, more than anything, but he knew he couldn’t.

‘Cause I’ve already made that mistake

#colby brock imagines #sam & colby #sam golbach imagines #jake webber imagines #Corey Scherer imagines #Trap House #trap house 2.0 #trap house imagines #krac house #kevin langue imagines #reggie webber #aryia emrani #colby brock x reader #colby brock fanfic #trap girls #katrina stuart #devyn lundy #cassie martin #tarayummy #xepher wolf

[donutloverxo]

Call it what you want (4/7)

Cowritten with lizzygal

Summary - Picking up three months after you and Steve met on your fateful date, courtesy of a SugarDaddy website, things are progressing. Life continues to move along.

Steve is continuing to adjust to life as a private citizen, doing his work and building a life with you.

You're adjusting to life with Steve, searching for that safe place for the special kids under your care and moving on post-Blip with Steve at your side.

New challenges arise as the two of you discover the depths of your shared passion, what you'll do for the other and exactly how well you and your Daddy are matched for one another.

Warnings - 18+ only, explicit sexual content, sugar daddy/baby relationship, spanking, power imbalance, age gap **Content Warning** for violence and fighting.

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Wildest dreams masterlist

Read on AO3

A sneak peak...

It was wrong.

It was so so wrong.

Steve knew it was wrong in so many ways and yet, he couldn’t help himself. He was like one of those men possessed he’d heard about on the TV. Clearly, he’d lost all ability to reason and think straight and function, like a rational human being and why?

Why?

All you had on was a pair of your baggy holey jeans. A t-shirt that had a tiger on it. Far from lingerie, or that really short dress that he deemed entirely inappropriate. Although that wasn’t entirely true. You had on something else.

Laundry basket practically overflowing. When you’d dropped it with a sound noise on the floor, laundry slid off the side. It was a quarter past one so short of waking the sleeping baby in her playpen, Steve figured no one upstairs would have heard it or your swearing that followed.

Spread out on the marble topped kitchen island was a map of the greater upstate New York area. Between him and Banner, the pair had been able to find nearly one hundred property owners, surnames starting with a X, throughout rural areas with over five acres of property and dating back fifty years.

Before any trips were made upstate to go looking for this school, run by the elusive Professor X, that number was going to need to come down significantly. Which had been what the two of you and occasionally Yelena, had been up to over the past few days and nights.

Although on this night, it seemed, you had a far higher calling.

Laundry.

In the brighter colors of your kitchen. Bright pink and copper splashed walls with white marble counters and cabinets, twinkle lights all over, Steve’s attention lifted from the marked-up map and his laptop, where he focused solely on you.

You.

As you reached up to grab the plastic container of detergent pods, muttering about conditions of sanitation up in the bedroom that Kurt and Bruce shared, making your shirt lift up and your loose jeans ride down, to expose a distinct elastic band on your waist.

Hugo Boss.

Naturally, this caught Steve’s keen eye.

You were wearing his underwear.

You were wearing his underwear.

How long had you been wearing his underwear? How often did this happen? Did you enjoy wearing his underwear? How had this not come to his attention sooner?

The next thing Steve knew, he had you shoved up against the washing machine, jeans and his underwear shoved down your hips. What followed was all flesh and tongue and fingers, panting and pleading and now, now, he had you over the kitchen counter. Feet dangling off the floor. Baggy boyfriend jeans and his briefs down around your ankles. Pistoning in and out of you from behind. Your ass lifted to a absolute perfect height for him, allowing him to slide into your wet welcoming pussy, again and again.

A trail of your combined cum ran down the insides of both your thighs.

Wet smacking noises came between the two of you each time he sank in, bottomed out against your cervix, then pulled out, again and again. Fingers stroked your slimy clit knowingly, as they had for your past two orgasms.

Your face was smashed against the counter. Eyes already so far in the back of your head you wouldn’t be shocked if they got stuck there, because Steve was going to make you come again. Around him, your body tightened, clenched, repeatedly kissed his cock as it sank in and out of you relentlessly, almost furiously.

All you could do was take it.

All you could do was cling to the Finding Nemo Cookie jar, arch your back, dig your nails into the colorful ceramic and take it. Take his cock. Take the kisses he pressed against the curve of your exposed neck, since your t-shirt was still in place. For now.

All you could do was take everything he gave you, every last drop that he released into your body and that you could feel dripping down the inside of your thighs.

Steve came so much. In copious amounts. Cum rolled down your thighs. Cum dropped down onto the floor. It squished and squelched noisily. Even his balls slapped against your slippery body. As if reminding you of all he still had to give.

“Gonna marry you one day,” he breathed against your neck, hips powering into you. Fingers swirling around the gooey mess of your pussy.

Against the counter you breathed.

Your breath fogging up the marble. “Yes Daddy…”

Pump. Pump. Pump.

“Gonna put a ring on your finger. Let everyone know you belong to me.””

A cry, a whine.

More fog on the white marble.

Squish. Squish. Squish.

Your nails dug into the cookie jar and gained no traction.

Fuck did his cock feel so good. So thick. So wonderful sawing over your G-Spot in this position like you were a fucking log his dick was trying to saw in half.

“Gonna be mine. Mine forever.”

Steve’s tongue ran up your sweaty spine but you were too fucked out to care. By that point, he’d given you two back to back orgasms, you were working on a third and his fingers were applying that exact perfect amount of pressure on your clit

His penis was so damn big you swore it hit the back of your throat at times.

Pump. Squish.

Pump. Squish.

Smack. Smack. Smack.

“Gonna give you my name. You want Daddy’s name? You want everyone to know you belong to Daddy? Want everyone to know only Daddy fucks this pussy? Only I get to come in it. No one else. No one else gets to flood this cunt like me. Only Daddy’s fiancée gets all of Daddy’s cum.”

Holy Christ on a stick and the saints above, you were almost coming, Steve was slamming into you just right, hitting you in that exact spot…exactly like you needed, strumming your clit in exactly that right way…saying the most absolute filthy honest to god true things you ever heard in your life.

“Answer me princess.” Hips snapped into the backs of your thighs, hard enough to pin your thighs to the cabinets. Making you know for a fact the handle would be imprinted on your hip and you didn’t care. “Do you want Daddy’s name?”

Oh hell yes you wanted Daddy’s name.

You wanted to write out his name after yours, you wanted him to brand you with it like you were property and officially belong to him in every way under the sun. And that was what made you keen, made you start to float on his dick. All while getting pummeled into the counter and feeling like the luckiest girl in the whole world.

“Want Daddy to wear a ring,” you whispered, hugging the cookie jar full of Oreos that you’d be getting into. If you came again, if Steve ever came. Or if the two of you did come again, if you’d ever get tired of saying these filthy things to one another, egging on another, making one another feel so goddamn amazing. “Want Daddy all to myself.” And clearly, you were no better than Steve.

Squish. Squish. Squish.

Cum seeped out of you. It made the insides of your thighs wet. You could feel it drip and dribble down. Steve’s mouth was pressed against your cheek, tasting your skin, nipping at your jaw. His tongue wet. Fingers skillfully plucking away at your clit, as if you weren’t melting down up on the counter beneath him.

“Sweetie you have Daddy,” he assured you. Licked you. Pounded into you like a man possessed on this one thing only. Hitting your inside wall right. Making your legs shake each time. “Daddy belongs to you. Only you.”

Steve’s hand snaked up your shirt, up beneath your bra to clasp your breast tightly.

Against the counter you cried out. Surprised at the sudden touch. Turned on. So turned on. His hand gripped your tit tight and rubbed your nipple hard enough to send hot white fire to your core.

“Fuck Daddy…” you breathed out.

“Tell Daddy. Daddy already belongs to you. Daddy’s only yours. Why would you say you want Daddy all to yourself? Tell Daddy and he’ll fuck you so good, he’ll stick his tongue up in your pussy and lick you clean how you like.”

Oh god.

Oh dear god.

How could he say that? How?

“Stick your tongue in my pussy Daddy. Daddy’s tongue belongs there.” Daddy’s tongue belonged in your pussy all the time. No one could ever put their tongue on you quite like Steve.

And then came a cracking of glass.

A sharp tinkling of glass. A breaking really.

A what in the ever-lasting fuck was that sort of sound?

It had Steve pausing behind you. It had you opening your eyes. It even had Sparky waking up in her cloth playpen by the kitchen doorway. It pierced the absolute bliss of your moment together like a knife in a cake.

What came next was ice cold sobering.

It most successfully killed the mood faster than a Sparky fire, or that time Anna-Marie walked in on Steve going down on you with much enthusiasm.

More glass breaking. Followed by a deadbolt being turned, out in the front entrance area, out around the corner.

It was a familiar sound and had Steve most expediently pulling out of you, yanking up his own jeans and buttoning them. Not that you weren’t a few steps behind him. Your own briefs you’d borrowed when you realized that you were all out of clean undies, or Yelena was out and had raided your dresser for clean panties, that very morning.

Out in the front room, you heard the front door slam open. Hitting the wall out there soundly.

Up next went your jeans and you’d only just managed to secure them into place, because time was something of an issue.

Someone was in the house.

Someone was coming in your house!

All slap and tickle time had come to a stop and right as you were about to have your third orga…and you literally ran into the back of Steve. Steve who had suddenly stopped, at the sight of the beast in your living room. Because that was what was in your living room. A beast. Some type of human animal creature and out from your mouth came in shocked surprise. “What the fuck is that!”

Not who, as you did not give a shit who. The whom was not important. It was the what, because whatever it was, was not entirely human.

Yeah, sure, it was walking around all bipedal on two legs and wore men’s clothing.

However, you noted it had long claw nails on the ends of human hands. Long blonde hair and sniffed at the air, turning, until it set eyes on the two of you. Dark eyes that were most definitely not human. And yeah, sure, this dudes face could have been humanish.

His peopley nose scrunched up as he sniffed, taking both you and Steve in.

Steve actually had the audacity to hold his hand back, as if to prevent you from running forward to fight this cat. Like you were about to go defend Steve from this WWE sized manbeast that when he curled up a lip, you got a good look at teeth that belonged on a tiger.

The audacity!

He was huge. He was absolutely huge and you had no goddamn idea what to do now. What were you supposed to do? Call 911? To tell them that bigfoots cousin catman was in your brownstone? Demand they send animal control immediately?

“Get back.” Steve ordered you firmly. Soundly. It was very much a command and you very much weren’t about to argue with a man who fought the mad titan.

Steve too felt a certain sort of way at the sight of this person in his home. This obviously enhanced man in his home, where you and all the kids were sleeping soundly upstairs. God was he big. Easily five or six inches taller than Steve, at least fifty more pounds of muscle. Whoever this was moved with ease.

As it looked around, it’s gaze lingering over you and then Sparky, Steve felt his own chest kick up, he could feel his body prepare to fight.

Yeah, he was going to have to fight. He knew that for sure before the enhanced person approached, eyes on Sparky in her little playpen.

“Get Sparky. Get behind the kitchen island.”

Something upstairs crashed, broke, shattered really.

Someone was upstairs too, you realized, around the time you grabbed the curious baby.

Wearing her purple onesie. Dark curls nearly long enough to pull up. Her big brown eyes watched with gleeful wonder, as the big hairy man lot out a godawful roar, then ran into the kitchen where the three of you were.

Continue reading on ao3

#steve rogers x reader #chris evans x reader #steve x reader #captain america x reader #marvel x reader #steve rogers x you #avengers x reader #chris evans x y/n #chris evans x you #wildest dreams series

[jobean12-blog]

hello my love!!! I wondered if I could request something sexy and fun!! I was thinking of reader and Bucky being in a new relationship, they haven't had sex yet and he invites her to sleep over at the compound one night. Reader has like a boob sore so she can't wear a bra and sleeps in her tank top. morning after, Bucky wakes up first and sees her boob has fallen out of her top, he was trying to remain a gentleman but after seeing that he wants her? Hehe i love you and thank you for everything❤️

Morning Glory

Pairing: Bucky x reader

Word Count: 1,412

Summary: Spending the night at Bucky’s for the first time has you very excited and a morning surprise really moves the relationship along...

Author’s Note: Thank you for requesting this love! I had fun writing it and hope it makes you happy! This is real life and happens to me all the time, even when I wear those CK bralette thingies. Never fails. Now if Bucky was in my bed....well. haha! Love you! Thank you all for reading and much love always! ❤❤❤

Warnings: sweet fluff, light teasing and flirting, lots of kissing, Steve and Sam being themselves, implied sexy times :) 

Standing in your apartment you stare at your empty overnight bag, cursing your indecision. Bucky invited you to spend the night at his place, aka the Avengers compound, and you have no idea what to pack to wear for the night or bedtime or the next morning! You don’t normally sleep in a bra and you don’t want to just because you’re staying at his place. Rifling through your pajama drawer you find a cute blue tank top with matching boy shorts, deciding it works fine and will be comfy.

Stuffing it in the bag you search around for your toiletries, double checking you have everything you need before leaving. Bucky meets you outside and greets you with a searing kiss. It takes you a moment to catch your breath afterwards and you’re wondering how you’ll be able to control yourself when you share a bed tonight.

Bucky has been a gentleman from the moment you met and ever since you first starting dating, which wasn’t too long ago. It’s the first time you’ll be spending the whole night together and you’re feeling both excited and nervous. Of course, as soon as you’re in his presence you feel completely comfortable and happy.

The early part of your evening is spent cooking dinner together, Bucky suggesting you try to make a pizza. “Bucky, I’m not sure I can do the whole throw the dough in the air thing,” you say, staring down at the yeasty mixture. “Me neither but I’m gonna give it a try!” You giggle and step back watching as Bucky tries to pick up the sticky dough.

Once he has it in his hands, he gives you an apprehensive look before saying, “here goes nothin’!” He tries to throw it but fails when he doesn’t put enough force behind it. “Ok, here we really go,” he laughs. Bending his knees, he releases the dough. It flies just above his head, hovering for a split second before landing back on his hands and ripping.

Bucky stands in shocked silence and your hand flies over your mouth to stifle your laughter. He finally looks your way, his lips turning up into a smirk, “something you find funny, doll?” You can’t hold back any longer, bursting into a fit of giggles and pointing at him. “Oh my gosh, you should see your face!”

Bucky tries to wipe off his hands as best he can before he stalks over to you, caging you against the island with his arms. Your breath hitches at the closeness of his body and your hands instinctively reach out to smooth down his chest. “I wish I got that on camera,” you say, continuing to tease him, “and I think you have some dough in your hair.”

He leans his face close to yours, brushing the hair from your cheek, “hmmmm, I bet you do.” When his mouth meets yours you completely melt against him, a sigh falling from your lips as he parts them with his tongue. Running his thumb across your jaw he cradles your face in his hand, deepening the kiss just as a throat clears loudly behind you.

Bucky hesitantly pulls away, his eyes soft on you but then thunderous when they stare over your shoulder. “Rogers. You better have a good reason for interrupting us.” Steve raises his brows and chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest in a very Captain America way. “Hi y/n. Nice to see you again.” You give Steve a shy wave, “hi Steve, you too.”

“Actually, this time I do. I smelled something burning and figured I should check it out before the compound gets a shower.” Both you and Bucky spin to face the oven, the slight wisps of smoke starting to leak out the sides. “Oh shit,” Bucky shouts, quickly turning the oven off and alerting Friday that they have it under control. “THE COOKIES!” you yell in horror! “I can’t believe we forgot about them!”

Steve laughs first and you and Bucky can’t help but follow suit. “Well, if you didn’t have your tongues down each other throats you might have remembered,” Steve scolds before laughing again and walking off. “Ugh, I’m gonna kick him in his righteous ass,” Bucky mumbles.

Turning to you, he gathers you in his arms and says, “now, where were we,” pressing his lips to yours once again. You gently pull away just to ask, “what about dinner? And more importantly! Dessert!?” His nose scrunches as he smiles wide, “let’s just order a pizza and steal Sam’s Oreos. Yea?” You simply nod, leaning in to kiss him again.

“I heard you two were starting a fire in here!” Sam chimes from the doorway. Bucky groans, grabbing your hand and walking down the hallway without a word. “Hi y/n!” Sam says as he gives you his best smile. “Hey Sam! Good to see you!” you call out just before disappearing around the corner.

Bucky huffs as he shuts the door. “They can be such a pain in the ass sometimes!” You laugh and pull your phone from your pocket. “I’ll order the pizza; you snag the cookies and then we’ll have the rest of the night uninterrupted.” Bucky practically skips out the door when you start dialing for the pizza and only moments later you hear Sam yelling, “where the hell are you going with my Oreos?!?!”

Dinner is perfect and after eating a whole sleeve of Oreos dipped in milk you and Bucky settle in on the couch to watch a movie. Not even halfway through Bucky has you pinned to the couch, his lips devouring yours as his hands wander over your dips and curves. You moan into his mouth and he pulls away, breathing heavily when he speaks. “I want you so badly, but I want to do this the right way, you know.”

You’re barely able to manage the nod of your head, all your brain power gone with his strong body above you and his hands on your skin. You want to tell him you don’t care that you really like him and you’re ready to take the next step. But you don’t want to push him either, so you remain silent. He pulls you into his side, holding you close while you finish the movie.

It’s almost midnight and you stifle a yawn, snuggling closer into Bucky. “You ready for bed, doll?” You smile up at him, “yes, I think so.” You go into the bathroom to wash up and change. When you come out you watch as Bucky takes in your appearance, his jaw clenched tight and his eyes dark. “You’re not making this easy you know.” He plants a sweet kiss to your lips before he goes to change.

You get in bed and burrow under the covers, loving that you’re surrounded by his smell. He gets in soon after, pulling you against his chest and nuzzling his face into your neck. “I’m really glad you’re here baby girl. I love having you in my bed.” Throwing your leg over his you mumble into his chest, “me too, Buck.”

Morning arrives and you slowly wake up, the warmth of Bucky’s body still close as you stretch and yawn. You feel a slight chill at your chest, moving to pull the blanket further up your body but stopping short when you brush bare skin. Cracking open your eyes you look down and to your surprise see that your tank top did little to hold things in place while you were sleeping.

Bucky’s sharp intake of breath catches your attention and you look over to find him staring. “Morning beautiful,” he whispers, licking his lips. “Hi,” you say quietly, smirking at how hot and bothered he looks. “Sorry, I don’t usually wear a bra to sleep.” Bucky doesn’t say anything, he just keeps staring and you can see his internal struggle.

You slowly get up, fixing your shirt and running your hand over the hardness that is evident under his boxers. “Meet me in the shower in 2?” you ask sweetly, lightly brushing your lips to his. He practically falls out of the bed, the sheets tangled around his legs as he stumbles forward. “Fuck yes, doll. I can’t wait.”  You saunter to the bathroom, knowing full well half your ass cheek is hanging out of your boy shorts. Bucky’s low growl carries across the room, your smile triumphant just as you turn on the shower.  

@aesthetical-bucky @auro-ora @azurika-writes @buckys-broody-muffin @book-dragon-13 @bugsbucky @bucky-on-my-mind @devynsdiary @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @hawksmagnolia @hailmary-yramliah @imgaril-lindru @ikaris-whore @itsunclebucky @jhangelface0523 @loricameback @jewels2876 @littleredstarfish @littledarlinhavefaithinme @mushyjellybeans @metal-armed-cuddly-dork  @marvelgirl7 @marvelandotherfandomimagines @nano--raptor @randomfandompenguin @sallycanwait68 @softpeachbarnes @scarletsoldierrr @the-wayward-robot @when-the-hell-is-bucky

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky x reader fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky fluff #bucky x reader smut #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #marvel #steve rogers #sam wilson #sebastian stan #bucky barnes x reader fluff

[decayandfanfics]

The great book of sayings

PAIRINGS: Tomura Shigaraki x FemReader

SUMMARY: He looks at you, his scarlet eyes fixed on yours, burning a hole through your head, every bit the predator he is, but you are as tough as it gets, so, against your better judgment and any well-founded logic, you answer his silent threat, the animalistic look he gives you with nothing less than a fearless smirk, irises burrowing into his pupils.A clever girl. He thinks, finally labeling you inside his head, cursing himself in the very moment he allows his brain to think of you as more than an asset. He is sure (he knows himself enough to know) he’ll think of this moment many times from now on.A clever pretty girl.

Reader is a typical college student until she gets herself tangled with the league of villains.

WARNINGS: Unhealthy/complicated relationships, violence, Tomura being Tomura, mentions of murder, heroes’ abuse of power.

A/N: I’m trying so hard to write crusty boy here really in character. At least after AfO is taken. Any misspelled words, english is not my native language so i’m trying Helen.

As always, let me know what you think!

________________________________________________

Chapter 12 / Chapter 13

Any port in a storm

Tomura knows a bastard when he sees one, and Chisaki Kai looks like someone who could stab his own mother just to prove a point.

And he’s not only a bastard, but he’s also very full of it. The way Chisaki talks like he knows better than anyone else, questioning Tomura and calling him out on his previous failures, as if he knew anything about dealing with pro heroes and a bunch of overpowered children ruining your plans.

Tomura knows where he’d failed and he learned from it, but that doesn’t mean he’ll have to waste his time hearing this asshole lecture him about leadership and planning. After all, Chisaki Kai is nothing but a low thug that works for money or whatever the fuck someone like him cares for. The league, on the other hand, has bigger matters to attend.

He sure like the sound of his own voice. Tomura thinks, narrowing his eyes when Overhaul begins to babble about leadership and pawns like they are nothing else than mere meat at his disposition, and not people with interests and wants.

It doesn’t take long before shit goes down. Magne’s remains puring over them like rain because the bastard makes her explode like a piñata with just a single touch.

Yes, Tomura also knows a deadly touch when he sees one, and Overhaul’s looks ridiculously overpowered.

“Compress, wait-!” Tomura shouts, but Chisaki is faster and before they understand what’s happening, Compress quirk goes off and Overhaul blows Atsuhiro’s arm with a simple touch and the fucker is so damn coward that the moment Tomura lounges towards him, he just orders one of his pitiful pawns to act as a fucking shield and die in his place.

The yakuza has the nerve to call himself the next leader and Tomura is almost impressed by the audacity.

“Now I get it. You should have just started with this, saved us all some time.” Tomura spits making a monumental effort to keep his cool for his sake and the sake of the league.

“Where are they come from?! We weren’t followed, I swear!”

“One of them probably has a tracking quirk.” He’s also trying his utter best to not smack Twice’s masked head for being so damn naïve.

“We’ll cool our heads and try again later. I ow your side an arm.”

“Bastard! I’ll eviscerate you!” Twice barks at his side, holding Compress against his chest.

“Tomura-kun. Let me cut him. Real quick.” Toga ask, pulling out her knife.

“No.”

“it’s my responsibility!” screams Twice.

“No.”

“I don’t wanna rush you, but the sooner we talk the better.” Think things over carefully. Consider how your organization should be run, then when you’ve calm down, call me.” Overhaul speaks like he didn’t just killed Magne, comparing her with one of his ridiculous pawns and Tomura hates him, truly. It’s not like when he says he hates society and heroes, no. This is more personal. He hates Chisaki Kai the same way you hate your childhood bully, the same way you hate someone because you had the misfortune of knowing them.

“They’re gonna pay for this. Why can’t I go after them?!”

“Now thinking, we need to get Atsuhiro-san to a doc. “

“Right.”

“That wouldn’t work…damn that hurts” Atsuhiro whispers almost unconscious.

“Maybe we do have time to make them bleed.”

“No.”

“C’mon, Tomura-kun!”

“Another time.” He orders, watching as overhaul and his band of assholes disappear into the night “You’ll pay for what you’ve done today.” He swears already thinking in a million ways he could make him regret this.

“Shigaraki! We need to see the doctor! Atsuhiro is bleeding out!”

Ah, doctor Ujiko really found and excellent time to go missing, didn’t he? Now without his sensei and the hideout completely wrecked by the heroes, he’s between kidnapping some doctor or finding some abandoned hospital and pray there is some supplies that could work. But kidnapping someone would take time and efforts and the nearest abandoned hospital is forty minutes away and Compress doesn’t have so much time.

Ah, the perks of being a villain.

“Tomura-kun! What do we do!?”

He clenches his fists until his knuckles go numb, his mind rushing, thinking what to do besides the obvious, trying his best to ignore that option.  

“We need to take him now!”

Tomura rolls his eyes and suck his teeth hating his life because this is the last thing he thought he would be doing when he woke up that morning, something withing him twisting painfully between excited and done with this awful feeling he can’t rid off.

“Tomura-Kun! What do we do?!” Toga presses again, panicking because Compress is getting paler and paler.

He groans kicking some rock completely fed up. Why couldn’t Atsuhiro just stay sit there when he told him to wait? Now the itch gets insufferable out of nowhere and Tomura scratch his neck raw, snarling under the hand that covers his face. He doesn’t want to go there, but Twice needs help to carry Atsuhiro now that the man just fainted, and he can’t do copies of himself, so he’ll need someone else. It could be Toga, but Tomura hardly thinks she’s going to be helpful with that tiny body of hers. Besides, they’ll need someone who can clear out the streets before rushing out, so, he’ll have to go anyways.

Tomura sighs defeated, this isn’t about him, so he decides to ignore the knot in his stomach and the quick drumming of his heart against his ribs, preparing for the imminent headache before barking the orders.

“Follow me.”

______________

 A loud bang on your door wakes you suddenly.

You observe your room, remembering that you were studying before falling asleep over your desk after a whole day of paper reading and a pack of oreo’s for dinner. Your laptop screen flashes 00:23 am, so you’ve been sleeping for hardly an hour.

Another bang and this time the sound of someone trying to enter your apartment at midnight shoots your adrenaline levels to the top.

“Big sister! Please!” Toga’s voice sounds desperate from the other side of the door turning your fear in worry, so without thinking, your feet tap quickly through the flat to just opening it before some neighbor sees her, but your mouth falls open the moment Toga rushes into your apartment with Twice and Shigaraki behind her, carrying a half-conscious Compress.

In a second that feels like hours, your eyes travel quickly between all three men, to stop on the red ones that bore into you, sending shivers through your spine as you heart do a flip inside your cage because your infatuation with the villain is right there, in the same place he left it last time he touched you.

“What the…” Your voice gets stuck in your throat when you notice that Compress bloodied wound is in fact him missing an arm.

“Shit. Lay him down on the table” You order already running across your flat looking for a hairband. “Take his shirt off, Toga, bring me some towels.” You rush to your bathroom to wash your hands quickly, and Shigaraki follows you without a word, clutching at your side looking for the first aid kit your keep under the sink.

“Tell me what happened.”

“A Yakuza bastard blew his arm of with his quirk.” He spits carrying the kit to the kitchen. “He shoot him something and his quirk went off.”

“You think it’s some kind of drug?”

“Probably.”

“Crap. It could be dangerous if I don’t know the effects.”  

You run behind him, taking some latex gloves from the kit before approaching your patient. Atsuhiro breathes heavily over your kitchen table, his legs dangling from the edge as he bleeds all over the floor.

Your quirk activates in full force the moment you get close to him.

“Hello, Mr. Compress.” You talk to him trying to calm him the same way you would talk to a child patient as you remove the poor bandage that wraps the remains of his left arm. “Long time no see.”

“Lovely to see you, dear.” He whines with his hand holding the gory pieces of meat that still dangles from his shoulder, a chonk of his broken bone horribly exposed. “It hurts a lot, you know?”

You wince at the sight but straighten yourself to do your job and let your hands hover over his wound, numbing his nerves, keeping his blood from spilling out because he’s already at the brim of drying out.

“I know, but it’s okay now, Compress. I’ll take care from here. Now…sleep…” you lull him with a smile, relaxing him quietly, slowing his heart rate to make him pass out.

“Is he..?” Twice ask watching with trembling voice.

“he’s unconscious now. I can stop the bleeding with my quirk for now, but I’ll need to…sew this…. somehow.”

“Oh! Big sister! Your quirk is amazing to cure people!” Toga says joyfully, leaving the towels close to you.

“Himiko-chan. I need you to wash your hands very carefully. I’ll need some assistance.”

“Okay! I’ll be back.”

You begin to clean the wound, retiring the little fragmenst of bone from between the exposed muscle with some tweezers.

“How bad.” Shigaraki is behind you, towering over your shoulder and you can feel his warmth on your cheek, as he winces watching the mess over the table.

“His arm is destroyed. I need to cut a little of bone, it’s too jagged to just close this, it could lead to an infection. Only after that I’ll be able to rearrange this mess.”  

“What do you need.”

You look at him worried. He’s covered in blood and for a moment you panic thinking that maybe he’s injured too.

“A-Are you al right?”

The question comes out as desperate product of your impossible nerves from having him so nearby. It caught him by surprise from the way his jaw clenches before answering.

“…I’m fine. What else do you need.”

Relief washes over you, so you return your eyes to the man over your kitchen table.

“I…my dad had a garden saw in the closet. Disinfect it the best you can. This is going to be nasty.”

___________

 When she’s finally done, it’s already 3 am.

Compress lays over the couch, finally sleeping after some gruesome scalpel work that lefts her panting from her quirk overuse, siting in the floor with her back against the front door.  

A thick trace of blood drifts down her nose, but she’s too tired to even care, so she just let her head rest on the cold wood.

Silence and shadows fill the apartment. The lights are off so Atsuhiro can sleep, but the lights of the street are enough to see inside the flat. In her room, twice and toga share the bed, already sleeping after helping with the cleaning. Her kitchen looks spotless under the moonlight, none could guess she just operated someone over the table with a gardening saw.

“Are you sure you are okay?” She asks with hooded eyes, her own conscience drifting slowly.

“…I told you I’m fine.”

Tomura watches her, leaning against the wall in front of her. She’s grown thinner and paler than the last time he stood in her home. Her bloodied clothing only accentuating her lack of color and the dark bags that rest under her sleepy eyes.

She stares back, neither of them wanting to look away, not when the three steps gap between them extends so wide and deep that it hurts. The notion of being face to face again stirs quietly inside of him and all his anger and dread goes silent now she’s there at the reach of his hand, and Tomura understand that he doesn’t know how to feel now.

Her stomach growls of hunger and her eyes open in embarrassment and surprise.

“Stop staring at me.” She mumbles cleaning her face with the back of her sleeve, getting up to walk over her kitchen.

“You were staring first.” He mumbles annoyed “whatever…” Before he can even walk to the door, she stops him dead on his tracks.

“You can stay…if you want.”

Tomura looks at her while she prepares a sandwich, trying to avoid his gaze at all costs to no avail. Her hand trembles as she tries to put some butter on her bread, giving away her internal turmoil, because as him, she doesn’t know how to feel about this sudden intrusion in her life. Again.

Well, at least he’s not he only one who feels awkward.

She laughs halfheartedly out of the blue.

“What’s so funny?” he asks looking at the wall, his voice mellow because he doesn’t have the energy to quarrel with her now. Not after everything that happen.

“It’s just…I swore I was going to choke you with my own hands next time I saw you.” She cannot stop the laughing.

He doesn’t know what to do with that statement, finding difficult to keep his distant mask now she’s trying to sound playful. He can feel his anger and awkwardness dissolving into something more bearable so he just smirks amused.

“Bare hands, huh? no quirk involved?”

“Yep. Acapella”

“And how is that working for you?” he asks, gravitating closer to her, standing at her side, very aware of the height difference between them as he leans to see her face better.

“Oh, fuck off.” She smiles.

“Ladies first.” He cannot contain the little smile that blossom in his face.  

Tomura feels his shoulders relaxing softly now. He falls in the ease of her company, the roaring turmoil he’s been feeding all these past weeks, going silent now that she’s finally close, smiling tired and lightheartedly.

It was this, and he almost forgot about it. It was the soft wittiness, the clever jokes and back and forth. He liked to talk to her because it was like playing a game, but somehow, he forgot between his bitterness and rage.

“Sandwich?” She asks, handling him half oh her own.

“…Thanks.”

They eat in silence. Atsuhiro’s breathing is the only sound in the house.

Tomura is tired, his eyelids weight heavy over his eyes, but this moment is enough to keep him awake, so in exchange he memorizes the smell of her home, her presence filling him softly and gently, calming the rage and the fury he’s been feeling over a month in a rare peaceful moment that feels dangerously too much like finally coming home.

What a stupid thought to think he could get rid of this sweet softness, the only one he’s ever felt. A foolish desire made of spite and bitterness in a place that can only be filled with their silent bond.

He feels the gap closing slowly, luring him to stay for the night. He should…he could...maybe this…

“I’ve missed you.” She whispers suddenly without looking at him, her eyes fixed in the wall in front of them.

Time stops and he whips his head so fast he could hear something crackling in his neck.

He definitely didn’t though about this when he woke up that morning.

“Like wise.” He raps swallowing hard, thinking about all the things his done in a month, realizing there was not a single minute of the day in which he did not think of her.

He’s truly smitten, isn’t he?  

“I’m sorry about what I said…i…I got nervous. I thought you would get mad, I just made it worse.”

“Why would you think that, huh? I thought I was pretty obvious.” He says, hiding his hands in his coat before changing his weight to the other leg.  

“Because you are a big bad villain, aren’t you? and I’m just…me.”

“Just you” he snorts “you managed to terrorize one of the most dangerous villains without even touching him. Just you is fine enough to deal with anyone. Even big bad villains.”

She smiles shyly.

“Shigar-“

“Tomura.” He interrupts, finally looking at her.

She looks beautiful under the pale light; the shadows of the night drawing angles and shapes on her face.

“Tomura.” She states, meeting his gaze and he delights in the way his name falls from her lips like a spell and less like a curse. She looks at him decided, certainty written all over her face and he knows she’s about to do something reckless. “I really like you.”

Tomura has learned his lesson. As he always does, so he absorbs her words and weighs them carefully inside his chest.

“A horrible decision, really.” He mocks back with a grin, closing the gap between them until he has her trapped between him and the kitchen counter. “Your parents never told you about big bad villains?” this time he asks close enough for her smell to fill his personal space as he gives her a hungry look, licking his lips.

“Oh, Fuck you.” She sighs laughing quietly.

“I hope you do.”

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“Are you going to keep talking back or are you going to kiss me already?” She whispers feeling his warm breath against her lips.

He stops entranced with the way her eyes reflect the streetlights from the outside. He’ll think of her like this frozen in time and undercover darkness, just a silver string of light between the shadows of her home and his life.

Tomura kisses her hungry and desperate. His jagged lips bruising against her mouth, invading her, eager to feel her closer, but is not enough. Him yanking her against his chest, four fingers gripping tight over her wrist as his right arm encircle her waist is not enough. Feeling her hands clutching at his shirt pulling him is not enough. Sensing the motion of her rising cage as she began to suffocate is not enough.  

No, nothing is enough when he wants to split her chest open to hide inside her ribs, filling her with this feeling that’s been smothering him for too long.

He’s overwhelmed by this unforgiving desire that goes beyond anything physical. Is about the terrifying nature of the world that surrounds him, where she’s the only hideout that could contain his horror and everything that scares him about himself.

Like sensing his despair, she moves her hands to his face, caressing his jaw enamored with the shape of his face, the texture of his skin and the soft locks of white hair that brush over her fingers every time he tilts his head to kiss her deeper and deeper.

A low rumble fills his chest as she opens her mouth fully to him, giving him access to her warmth for him to gorge on her taste, terrifyingly close and needy.

She breaks contact searching for air, but he moves ever so little.

“The things I’ll do with that bickering mouth of yours” He whispers before biting her low lip, giving her a ravenous look.

“Like wise.”

He considers to just shove her against the wall and take her right there over the dishwasher, finally sinking his teeth on her skin, buried deeply in her; but since she was bleeding not long ago, tired and in desperate need of sleep, he keeps it gentle. They are both tired. Tired from the fight, tired from the operation, tired of this game of cat and mouse they’ve been playing for two months, so he shoves his animal instincts under the rug and treats the situation the same way he holds things carefully with his fingers.

Just this one time he promises, knowing he will go absolutely feral on her as soon as he has the chance. So, he just leans over and kisses her gently…surprised by his own tenderness and the warmth that fills him, something akin to happiness and peace.

Tomura nuzzles against her cheek before resting his face on her shoulder, the awful longing that’s been eating him alive finally shut down.

“Come.” She calls him softly, a ghost of a kiss burning over his lips before she tugs him by the hem of his coat, leading him to the spare room.

He follows her quietly, taking off his sneakers and coat before getting inside the little bed, wrapping his arms tightly around her, fists safely closed at her back.

“You’ll be here when I wake up?” She asks merely a whisper, her lips delicately brushing his own.

His forehead rest against hers, her warmth inviting him to close his eyes and rest, lulling him silently into sleep.

“…yes.” He whispers as he drifts away, feeling the light touch of her lips kissing the scar over his mouth.

“Good.”

Chapter 14

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #bnha fanfic #tomura #shigaraki #boku no hero #tomura x reader

[i-am-a-closet-fanfic-fiend]

The Art of Love (Part 8) ~ Steve Rogers x Reader College!AU

A/N: Hello lovelies! Happy Tuesday! I hope that you’re all having a good week! We’ve got a few more parts for this story. And I’m hoping to post on Tuesdays so keep an eye out. And enjoy and take care of yourselves! 

Summary: More shenanigans with the idiots in love and sarah and bucky 

Characters/Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader (Eventual), Bucky Barnes, Sarah Rogers

Rating: K+

Warnings: None. Fluff . Idiots

Word Count: 1250

Divider by: @whimsicalrogers​

Main Masterlist | The Art of Love Masterlist | Broken Hearts and Robot Parts Masterlist (Companion Fic) ​

Bucky nudged Steve as they cleared and washed the dishes.

“They seem to be getting along well,” he nodded towards you and Sarah.

“Yeah, they sure do.”

Steve watched you fondly, letting out a soft sigh when you laughed at the story his mother was telling you. Undoubtedly about him and most definitely embarrassing based on the snort you let out.

“You know you look like a love struck dope right now,” Bucky chuckled.

“Do not,” he huffed, elbowing Bucky out of the way so he could keep washing.

“Oh come on, man. Why don’t you just admit it? You two are practically married.”

“We’re just comfortable around each other. We’re best friends,” Steve argued, rinsing off the last of the plates and wiping down the sink.

“No. We’re best friends.”

“Debatable,” the blonde grumbled.

Bucky scoffed, but otherwise ignored the comment.

“You two are something else. For crying out loud the two of you hosted your mom for dinner.”

Steve lacked a believable retort so he kept his mouth shut.

The truth was, he knew Bucky was right, and although he’d long since admitted his feelings for you to himself. He wasn’t ready to say them to you.

Once the dishes were done, he and Bucky rejoined you and Sarah in the living room.

“All done?” you asked as Steve sat down in the armchair. He was rarely so far away, and you found yourself missing his warmth.

Bucky lounged in the chair and a half with your pack of Oreos.

“Bucky!”

“What?”

“Those are mine for our marathon,” you pouted. “I’ve been waiting to open them all week.”  

He paused with a cookie halfway to his mouth.

“The package was half empty.”

You swung your gaze onto Steve, who was looking all kinds of guilty.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I was half asleep after a sudden bout of inspiration the other night. And I kind of ate a couple.”

“A couple?” You quirked an eyebrow at him.

“Okay, a lot. I did already replace them though. And I got you the chocolate cream ones too.”

Your mock glare slipped as you giggled in delight.

“Thanks, Stevie. I guess I forgive you then.”

His shoulders dipped in relief and you laughed at him.  

“Does that mean I can eat the rest of these?” Bucky mumbled with his mouth full.

“Oh James,” Sarah admonished fondly.

“Yes,” you chuckled. “Have at it.”

“So, what were you two talking about?” Steve asked as Bucky happily munched on cookies.

“Y/n was telling me how the two of you first met. You never told me that you took ballroom dancing lessons, Steven.” Sarah’s smile was full of mirth.

“It was just one hour a week. I wasn’t very good. Y/n’s the only reason I even made it through.”

“That is not true. You were the best partner a girl good ask for. Once I got steel tipped character shoes,” you teased.

Steve groaned and slid down in his seat.

“I’m kidding. Steve truly was the best. I’d still ask him to be my partner any day of the week. The steps are just part of it. You’ve got to know the other person’s rhythm.”

Steve couldn’t help as his smile widened.

“We have gotten pretty good at that over the years.”

“Yes, we have. It’s something I could only hope for in a partner.”

“Speaking of dancing-”

“Buck,” Steve warned.

“Relax, it’s not about you or your brief foray into hip hop.”

“Excuse me?” Sarah guffawed looking to you for elaboration.

“It was very brief. Like one day brief. He transferred to swing after his first class,” you admitted.

“Oh dear.”

“Smudge,” Steve whined hiding behind a throw pillow.

Unable to bear the sight of him embarrassed, you made your way over to him, plucking the pillow from his hands as you settled on the arm of his chair.  

“In his defense, I begged him to take it with me,” you explained to Sarah, carding your fingers through his hair. “It was an intermediate class that I was nervous to take because it was mostly upperclassmen. And Steve was sweet enough to sign up for it with me. Once I realized Natasha was also in the class, I held his oath fulfilled.”

He chuckled at the Lord of the Rings reference as his hand settled on your hip.

“My two left feet are always at your service, milady.”

He took your other hand and pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles.

“I am learning so many new things tonight,” Sarah smiled at the two of you.

Her warm smile kept any feelings of embarrassment at bay.

“Anyways, I have a favor to ask,” Bucky interjected, breaking the pregnant moment.  

“Of course. What do you need?”

“The big fundraiser for this semester is going to be a dance-a-thon.”

“Oh that sounds so fun,” you gushed.  

“I think it will be.”

“So what do you need from me?”

“The brothers and I thought a fun way to keep the day moving was to teach different dances throughout the night. And since you’re the only one I know knows pretty much all of them…”

“Yes! Of course I’ll help. We can do swing and Lindy and…”

You hopped off the chair to grab a notebook and start writing things down. Bucky joined you at the dining room table, going over ideas and timetables.

Sarah took the opportunity to observe her son. Steve’s eyes never left you as you flitted about, talking animatedly and gesturing wildly. Clearly he was smitten. You both were. Her beloved son just needed to do something about it.

You and Sarah shared a tight hug as she said her goodbyes. She ruffled Bucky’s hair and reminded him to call his mom, before the two of you got back to work.

“Walk me out?”

“Of course, Ma.”

“You know, you really should tell her how you feel,” Sarah said conversationally as he walked her to the door.  

Steve’s steps faltered as he looked down at her, wide eyed from shock.

“I’m not in love with Smudge,” he blurted out.

“Oh, darling. Would you like to try that again?”

He sighed, knowing there was no use in lying. He was terrible at it anyway.

“I can’t tell her, Ma.”  

“And why not?”

“Because I could lose her.”

“Oh, Steven. There’s no chance of that.”

“But how do you know?”

“Because she is just as in love with you as you are with her. Any fool could see that. And I most certainly did not raise a fool now did I?”

“Of course not, ma’am.”

“Good, then go tell the amazing woman how you feel about her.”

“You really like her?” he asked with a shy smile.

“Of course I do. I’ve been telling you she was the best thing to happen to you for years. Tonight just confirmed it.”

“But what if I end up leaving?”

“Whether you leave or not, you both deserve to know your options.”

She could see the decision rolling around in his head.

“Just think on it. Personally, I think she’d be well worth the effort of long distance.”

“Of course she is,” Steve huffed, insulted his mother would imply he thought otherwise.

“Then what exactly is your argument?”

“I-“

The cab driver leaned on his horn.

“I’ve got to go. Good night, honey.”

She gave him a quick hug and a kiss on the forehead.

“Night, Ma,” he mumbled still stunned by the turn in the conversation.

What was his argument?

A/N: Thank you all for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! 

Tag List

Update 3/15/2021: Hello, Lovelies. As some of you may have seen on the blog I have decided to suspend tag lists. If you would like to receive updates about new content please follow @naynay-writes​​ and turn on notifications. Thank you! Xoxo, Naynay

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#Steve Rogers x Reader #Steve Rogers x y/n #Steve Rogers x You #Steve Rogers AU #College!AU #College!Steve Rogers #college!steve rogers x reader #The Art of Love #Part 8

[septembercfawkes]

Burritos vs. Sandwiches--er, PLOT vs. STRUCTURE!

Often in the writing world, we lump together plot and structure (#guilty), which makes sense, because they're so intertwined. They're sort of like two peas in a pod. But they are actually two different things, which can be difficult to discern at first when you are learning the craft.

So what is the difference? And why does it matter?

Self, I'm glad you asked that 😉 because that's what I'm going to talk about today.

And I'll be using two of my favorite foods, Mexican food and sandwiches 😋 🤤, to illustrate.

Hopefully you aren't on a diet that restricts those things, if so . . . 😅

At first I was going to refer to Cafe Rio 😍 as an example, but since that is more of a regional thing (proud to say the original started in my hometown ✌️), I decided to go with Chipotle, which is at least across the U.S. . . . I think.

Anyway, plot vs. structure, Chipotle food. Let's do this.

When you go to Chipotle, you mostly have four options: burrito, taco, salad, or what they call, a burrito bowl (basically the burrito without the tortilla).

But what some of my family members occasionally laugh about is that it's all the same food. You're just picking how you want to deliver that food to your mouth.

Meaning, whether you get a salad, burrito, taco, or a bowl, you have the same food options.

I could choose chicken and black beans and then choose whether I want it in a salad, burrito, taco, or bowl. What goes in each is all the same.

This is a good example of taking a plot and structuring it.

Plot = the actual content of the story. Plot is the events, usually brought on by cause and effect, that make up the narrative. It's what happens. It's the chicken, beans, rice, and lettuce (and salsa and sour cream and . . . you get the idea).

Structure = how it is delivered to the audience. Structure is which content goes where and in what order. If I'm getting a salad, the lettuce is put in the bowl first. If I'm getting a burrito bowl, the meat and beans and rice are put in first.

In most stories, plot and structure will fit together in rather straightforward ways. For example, the majority of stories are told in a linear timeline.

But not all stories.

Some stories take place in multiple timelines, some jump all over in time (The Prestige & The Time Traveler's Wife), and some even play with the passage and delivery of time to the audience (Arrival).

In this sense, the plot is structured in a way that is not the linear order. The delivery to the audience is different than the basic cause and effect the characters are experiencing.

But September! (you lament.) What about all those story structures we've been learning about?

Well, yes, don't worry, we are going to touch on those too. It's sort of like learning about light. You can view it as a wavelength, or you can view it as a particle. They are both correct. (And it's helpful to have both.)

But the Mexican food point is, the plot is the ingredients and the structure is the delivery method. You can fit the ingredients into a structure.

K, I'll come back to that in a second. Let's talk about sandwiches.

How do we define a sandwich? Okay, well, let's not get crazy, because if we get out into the weeds, it can actually be difficult to define (I do often prefer open-faced sandwiches for one), but for the sake of this post, let's just say it's two sides of something (usually bread), and a middle or filling.

So you can have a ham sandwich, a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, a tuna sandwich, a panini, an ice cream sandwich, maybe an oreo, and heck, why not include those little peanut butter and honey cracker sandwiches I made as a kid?

For the point of this discussion, those are all sandwiches.

But they can each have very different ingredients. A ham sandwich vs. an ice cream sandwich? Totally different!

This is sort of like taking a structure and fitting in a plot. (Similar, yet reverse of the previous example.)

You can make any sandwich you want. But it needs to have two sides and a filling to be a sandwich.

Okay, it's important to not get too deep into this figuratively, because these metaphors are imperfect, and I don't want us to confuse ourselves.

The main point is, on the one hand, you can have a plot and structure it differently.

And on the other hand, you can have a structure that you fill in with a plot.

In either case, it's important to understand structure, because that's how the audience is going to have the plot delivered to them in a satisfying way.

I mean, you wouldn't want to make a peanut butter sandwich for someone with the peanut butter on the outside of the bread, would you? (Well, okay, maybe if it was your enemy 😈)

But let's look at some Chipotle examples first (wavelength vs. particle, remember?).

As I've been studying structure over the last year or two, one thing that has been interesting to me to consider is that while The Hunger Games book and The Hunger Games movie have essentially identical plots, they are actually structured differently.

Sure, some content is obviously different, like we get some scenes in the movie that we couldn't have in a first person POV, and the book is more graphic and Katniss a bit less of a hero in it.

But the events are by and large the same. And they are even both linear. They have the same plot.

Nonetheless the same events are structured slightly differently.

The biggest, most obvious example of this is the midpoint (which happens right in the middle of a story). In the book, the midpoint is when the Careers chase Katniss up a tree, she drops the wasp nest on them, and Peeta saves her (she shifts from responding --> action).

But because film is different than books, filmmakers had to shift the story a bit (which I'll talk about in a sec), which would have made that part in the story come too late as a midpoint. So instead, they structured the cornucopia blood bath as the midpoint of the story. Prior to that point, Katniss is responding and preparing for the Games, but after that point, she's actually active in the Games.

Same ingredients. Different delivery methods.

The book puts the emphasis on Katniss going active in a more personal sense.

The film puts the emphasis on Katniss going active in a more external sense.

And if you think about it, it's not too surprising, because books better explore the internal while film better explores the external.

But anyway! There are other shifts as well. . . .

For example, in the book the inciting incident actually occurs about 5% into the story, while in the film, it hits later (though the events are the same).

Part of this is simply adjusting to film. In the book, Katniss can relay a lot about the world to the audience in shorter space than the film can. (On the other hand, the book can be longer than a film.)

I could go into a bigger, longer explanation of all this (and am tempted to), but I want to try to keep these concepts simple, the point being that while the events are largely the same, the film had to structure the plot slightly differently.

Which can work, because as I've explained before--structural components are relative. (They have to be, because structure isn't plot.) For example, the inciting incident shifts the protagonist into a new direction--"new" compared to what came before.

Okay, but let's not get too complex! I'm sure I'm losing some people. Stick with me!

Let's look at another example that may be more obvious. Splitting one book into two films.

If you watch Mockingjay, Part 1, it more or less has the same plot as the first part of the Mockingjay book.

However, filmmakers still had to structure it as a complete film.

Remember, plot and structure are different.

Same ingredients.

Different delivery methods.

Some of the ways the filmmakers did this, is . . .

- They made the missile attack the climactic moment of the middle (Act II)

- They made the scene in the bunker and the following scene when Katniss is on camera the subsequent lull, or "All is Lost" moment. (Katniss realizes that Snow is just going to keep toying with her as long as he has Peeta.)

- They made retrieving Peeta and the other tributes the climax of the story.

Just to name a few. (In comparison, retrieving Peeta is structured more or less as the midpoint of the book, meaning they retrieve him, he's been hijacked, which pushes Katniss to go to District 2 and become more obsessive with killing President Snow. Aka, she becomes more proactive.).  

They took the same ingredients and structured them into a different delivery.

My next question to you is, is Mockingjay, Part 1 as satisfying as the prior films?

No, because it's only half the plot, pushed into a complete structure.

This isn't to say that it's bad by any means. I mean, if you are going to split a story in half, I feel like they did the best that could be done, probably.

But it's not as satisfying on its own.

So while structure is relative, at the same time, some "ingredients" work better in certain places than other ingredients.

I mean, was retrieving Peeta really as powerful as any of the other films' climaxes? No, because other than Katniss trying to pacify Snow through a phone call, the heroes are met with no resistance.

When structuring a story, some content works better at parts than other content.

The ingredients in a sandwich can make all the difference. I mean, even a cheddar cheese sandwich is different than a blue cheese sandwich. What kind of experience do you want to create?

Maybe consider what your audience ordered. If they wanted something sweet and indulgent, maybe give them the ice cream sandwich and not the tuna one.

Ingredients matter and make a difference.

This is a point where some writers get confused once they fully grasp structure. They may learn the Hero's Journey structure and think, This is the answer to all my problems! Everything I write now will be amazing!!

While it's true a solid structure can be 💯 amazing and do wonders (seriously). It's not everything. Which is why sometimes it can be frustrating when a writer understands a structure, but doesn't nail the plot.

Just as structure changes the experience of Mexican food, ingredients change the experience of sandwiches.

If structure is relative, what ingredients do you use where?  

What ingredients do you use, period?

Obviously it's helpful to take into consideration who the audience is (like I mentioned)--is it just you? Your friends? Readers on Amazon?

It's helpful to consider the genre too. Is this romance? Horror? Mystery? Fantasy?

What kind of conventions and scenes are expected or obligatory? What tropes are common in the genre? How will you address or twist those things?

And just as you can take your plot, and structure it for a better experience, you can also take structure and use it to better your plot. (Remember: wavelengths vs. particles)

After all, few people want the peanut butter on the outside of their peanut butter sandwich. There is a structure the audience is expecting the ingredients to follow, even if they aren't aware they have those expectations.

We decided for a sandwich to be a sandwich, it needed to have two sides of something and a middle or filling.

We probably have some idea on the ingredients we are going to use based on the sort of story we want to tell.

Let's make this a deli sandwich (more options). (Deli = genre)

I know I want to start my sandwich with wheat bread. What's next? Meat, lettuce, mayo, then pickles and tomatoes? Maybe that's not necessarily a "wrong" order, but most of the time, people are expecting mayo to come first. We grab the bread, spread the mayo on. From there, usually the pickles and tomatoes go next.

I know some people are going to disagree with me on that order--but I mean, it's a metaphor, and you get the point I'm trying to illustrate, right? I hope?

We might not necessarily know what condiment we want to use once we pull out our bread, but we know that it's the next step. So we ask, do I want mayo? Mustard? Ketchup? Miracle whip? Ranch? Hot sauce? BBQ? Peanut butter? Honey?

Well, as you might notice--some of those condiments don't typically go well with making a deli sandwich.  

Some ingredients work better than other ingredients.

And I guess you could try to skip the condiment altogether, but if you make a deli sandwich without any condiment, it's usually dry--not a satisfying experience.

So as you work with a structure in mind, it helps feed into the plot--the events that take place and move the story forward (to the next ingredient).

Say you know your inciting incident. If you are familiar with structure, you'll also know what sorts of things need to take place right after it. Typically, this is where the protagonist really reacts. When you know that structure, you'll be able to pause and think, Which reaction do I want to plug into this spot? Which reaction is best for the story I want to tell?

Makes sense? Or clear as mud?

🤦‍♀️ Structure is so difficult to grasp and "see" when you are learning, so if you don't understand everything in here yet, that's fine. Doesn't hurt to be introduced to some of the concepts though (as long as you don't let frustration take root). Like a lot of people, one day it will start to click.

At least take away these points.

Plot and structure are like Mexican food: You can take the same ingredients(plot) and structure them differently.

But plot and structure are also like sandwiches: You can fit whatever ingredients(plot) to make up the structure.

Some ingredients are more satisfying than others. And some ingredients are more satisfying in certain places than others.

And that's the simplest takeaway.

Anyone want a burrito? 🌯

#writing tips #writing tips and tricks #writeblr #nanowrimo #plot #structure #writing help #writing reference

[hopesbarnes]

Right In Front Of Me

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Summary: Wanda’s your best friend. The only person who knows you completely. So if she’s your friend, why does her going on a date bother you so much?

Warnings: None 

A/N: 1. men ain't shit so here's a wlw fic. 2. I am 100% up to write a second part to this if you guys are interested?

Parents call their kids special every day. It’s nothing new. Moms and Dads all over the world think their kid is unique and that they’re different from every other child out there. Your parents though? They were spot on. You were special, and not in the way they led you to believe.

You first learned about your powers when you were 13 years old. One minute you’re eating dinner with your parents. Discussing math tests over spaghetti. Then you felt a rush of warmth and suddenly they were eating with famous singer Stevie Nicks. (Who you had just been listening to prior to the meal). It didn’t take long for the lot of you to realize that by special, it meant mutant. Somehow, someway you were born with the ability to shapeshift. If you can picture the person, you can become that person. DNA and all. 

For the next four years, you felt alone. You learned to control your ability, and not just shapeshift all the time. But you still couldn’t let anyone get close to you. They could find out and put you in harm’s way. So no friends, or boyfriends. Just you and your parents. And you got used to being lonely. It was what was best.

Until one day when you were 17, and Tony Stark appeared at your door with an offer to become an Avenger. You had no idea how he knew, but if he could find out so could someone else. So after a quick conversation with your parents, you packed up and moved to New York to live with actual superheroes. 

It was then you met Wanda. A gorgeous girl your age, who dressed witchily and was a mutant. Just like you. She was the first person to understand what it was like. To fear what you were capable of, and to know what it’s like to hide yourself to save face. It was almost instantly the pair of you became friends. You even moved into the room beside hers and spent every possible moment you could with the girl.

Shopping trips were common (avenger’s got a nice stipend, and you had no bills), movie nights were mandatory, and just grabbing lunch dates was common between the two of you. You were attached at the hip and finally felt like you had someone in your life you could trust.

Until today.

Wanda came into your room bubbly as always and announced, “I have a date.” Suddenly it wasn’t such a good day and you didn’t know why. All your energy immediately drained and your stomach felt tight. 

“With who?” you asked walking towards your connected bathroom to avoid facing her.

“Vision! He asked me to dinner,” she yelled laying back on your bed. You could hear her sigh happily. 

“That’s exciting,” you say with forced enthusiasm. Why was this bothering you so much? You should be happy your friend has a date. 

“You’ll help me get ready, won’t you?” she asks as you leave the bathroom.

“That’s what best friends are for,” you reply sincerely. 

“Thank you!” she says and kisses your cheek before running out of the room. You move your hand to where her lips met your skin. Huh.

A few days later you were over Peter’s house to help with homework. You met him through Tony and became friends. He was the person you felt closest to after Wanda. And he was close to your age. 

You’d spent the last few days confused, angry, and in a funk and everyone let you. The adults of the tower just thought it was teenage angst. But Peter called you out on it.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” he asks between calculus questions.

“Yup totally fine!” you say half paying attention to him.

“Hey,” he says closing the textbook and looking at you. “You know you can talk to me.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong!” you sigh dramatically, “Wanda said she had a date and now I’m completely off. That’s weird right?” you ask ashamed. You should be happy for your friend.

“Can I ask a question?” he says and you smile back at him.

“Always”

“Do you think you have feelings for Wanda?” he says quietly.

“No,” you say unconvincingly, “No!” you repeat. “She’s my best friend. We hang out a lot, but it’s because we’re close. And I mean it’s normal to think she’s cute right? Anyone can see she’s attractive. Her soft skin, and pretty lips. Visions lucky really. She’s a great girl.”

Then after a moment, your eyes go wide and you turn to Peter.

In a really soft whisper, you say, “I think I’m in love with Wanda. And gay.”

“Woah,” is Peter’s response.

“Woah,” you confirm. You’re crying now and Peter pulls you in tight. 

“It’s gonna be okay. You’re going to be okay,” he says and kisses the top of your head while holding you as you cry.

After crying, you were pretty tired and sent Tony a text letting him know you were spending the night at Peter’s. He was fine with it and after Peter explained to Aunt May that you were having a bit of a gay awakening. She brought in a plate of Oreos and told you she loved you before letting the two of you watch a movie in peace. 

The next day after school you headed back to the tower to find Wanda getting ready for her date with Vision. She asked you to help do her hair, and you did while the two of you chatted about things. But as you braided her long hair you realized you really and truly were in love with her. You wanted to kiss her and hold her and date her. But she was going out with Vision, so you put that part down deep inside you and tried your best to be happy for her. 

“I’ll see you later!” she says as she grabs her purse and heads to the door.

“Have fun!” you tell her and head back to your room.

You grab the book your reading and decide to just immerse yourself into it rather than let your brain wander. Until two hours later a visually distressed Wanda opens your door.

“I thought you were on a date?” you ask and she tugs her hair out of the braid you did. She walks over to your mirror and groans at her mascara tears. “Wanda?” you ask getting up to go see what happened.

“So,” she says drawing out the oh sound. “It turns out I am in love with you.” 

“Wait WHAT?” you ask and she laughs at your shocked face.

“It took me on a date with a non-human man to realize that I’ve been in love with my best friend for a while,” she says laughing hysterically. 

“I love you too,” you rush out then put your hand over your mouth.

“You do?” she says and giggles. “What a mess we are.”

“You,” you say laughing, “Need to start your story from the top.”

“I do don’t I?” she says smiling. She grabs your arm and the two of you sit on the bed sitting with your legs crisscrossed and knees touching.

“Well,” she starts, “I was on the date with Vis. And he took me to the zoo, and it was nice. But apparently I kept talking about you. A lot. So much so in fact, he pointed it out. Said ‘You seem to talk about Y/N an abundant amount. It would seem you have feelings for her.’ Then it felt like a light bulb and I started crying and he brought me home, and I told him he’s sweet. But I can’t be with him.” 

You can’t help but have a smile across your face. On the one hand, it all feels fast. Realizing your feelings, realizing your identity, and learning she feels the same way. But on the other hand? This feels right. It feels like you always should’ve been together.

“I can’t believe this whole time you were right in front of me, and I didn’t see it,” she says and leans in closer to you. 

“You’re telling me. So, you’ll be my girlfriend now?” you ask.

“Of course dragoste,” she says and finally leans in close enough to meet her lips to yours. 

Her lips are soft and taste faintly of strawberries. Her eyes flutter close as soon as you reach a hand to brush her hair from her face, and you let yours close too. You need to savor the moment, although you’re sure there’s many more to come. Your other hand grips her waist as if telling her to stay. And she uses her hands to cup your face. The kiss lights fireworks inside you, and all you want to do is kiss her forever now. She moves softly against you and the two of you part ways and stares into each other’s eyes. 

“I love you,” she says again.

“I love you too,” you repeat once more. And you know you’ll be repeating these words to her millions more times.  

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff fluff #wanda maximoff angst #elizabeth olsen

[grimbeak]

So last night I snuck out of my room into the bathroom (after 10 minutes of trying to find my pen in the dark without my sibling (who was on the top bunk over me) waking up) to write a scene that I’ll probably use in the Pirate Jay AU, and it’s also worth noting that my legs fell asleep so I just kinda sat on the floor for a while after writing and it was 1 am and also I never knew how fun it was to write out the name Lloyd like it’s so fun when you’re handwriting

Anyway here it is

###

“We’re going out on a mission,” Lloyd explained. He looked pointedly at Jay. “And you’re staying here.”

The pirate rolled his eyes. “Can I be let loose?”

“Can I trust you not to steal the Bounty while we’re gone?”

Jay thought for a moment. “No, not really.” 

“Alright then.” Lloyd turned to Nya and Cole. “Put him back in the cell. But,” he added hesitantly, “don’t chain him to the floor. Only the cuffs.” 

Jay groaned. “Oh, come on, I’m allergic to those! Vengestone gives me blisters,” he muttered. 

Lloyd hesitated. “Can I trust you to not burn your door down?”

Jay extended his hand. “Pirate’s promise.”

“And how much is that worth?”

Jay shrugged. “Not a lot, but it’s better than nothin’.”

Lloyd took his hand.

***

When they all got back, they found that Jay had burned his door down.

The pirate was rifling through the fridge. Aside from the kitchen, the Bounty seemed unharmed. 

“You have,” Jay announced, “almost no food in the fridge.” He slammed it shut for dramatic effect. “What, d’you just eat out all the time, or...? Not exactly healthy.”

Lloyd rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry. Zane cooks twice a week, and we kind of just binge his leftovers in-between that. But seeing as he’s not here right now...” Lloyd trailed off, but Jay’s face remained unimpressed. Right- he hadn’t met the nindroid before Zane got captured. 

Nya stepped forward, frowning. “When I did a quick check-up scan on you, when you first arrived-” Jay tensed, and Lloyd guessed he didn’t like the idea of being poked and prodded while unconscious- “I found that you were- are extremely malnourished, for someone your age. Why is that?”

Jay stared at her. “Cursed Realm, remember? Barely anything there to eat but scraps. There was a kind of fish,” he added after a moment, “didn’t taste great but it was food.” He grimaced at the memory. “Had teeth, though. All bitey.”

Lloyd looked at him. “So, piranhas.” 

“What the fuck are piranhas?” Not waiting for an answer, Jay turned back to one of the counters. He picked up a half-eaten container of Oreos. He plucked one out, holding it up to his eye. “What’s this?” 

Cole answered, “It’s an Oreo, Jay.” When the pirate didn’t respond, he added, “Food. You can eat it if you want.” 

Jay hesitated before taking a cautious nibble. After a few seconds his eye widened, and he shoved the rest of the cookie in his mouth. “Holy shit.” He held up the container of remaining Oreos, as he started to slink past the ninja. “I’m just gonna take these back to my roo- prison cell and eat them, I’ll see you guys later-”

“Nope.” Lloyd plucked the container from his hand and held it as high up in the air as he could reach. “Healthy food first. Then candy.” 

“Not fairrrr.” Jay attempted to swipe the Oreos from Lloyd, missed, tried again,  and failed again as said cookies container was confiscated by Nya.”Come on, not fair!” 

Lloyd smiled as he watched the other ninja play a game of ‘keep-the-cookies-away-from-the-pirate’, Jay complaining about how they were ‘disrespecting the short community’. 

...Maybe the pirate was just a kid like them, after all. 

#Pirate Jay AU #Fic writing #Kai: why did we adopt an actual child #Nya: cole thought he was cute #Cole: yeah #Kai 3 hours later: KIDNPAP I MEANT KIDNAP WERE NOT KEEPING HIM #Cole holding Jay: too late #s6 rewrite ig #Local news: homeless boy discovers oreos #Lloyd ninjago #jay ninjago #Kai ninjago #Nya ninjago #Cole ninjago #Zane ninjago #awww they're bonding

[junquisite]

C’est La Vie 7

WORD COUNT : 1.6K

GENRE : Fluff. SIngle Parent! OC AU

WARNING : None. yearning if it’s considered one

PARTS : 1  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9  F

NOTE : Please enjoy one of my favorite fic i have EVER written.

"Hey Sejun. What are you doing here?" She asked and he raised an eyebrow at her.

"I wanted to see you. And I got cupcakes for Jiah!" He said, lifting up the box to show her.

"Umm bad timing Sejun."

"Why?" He asked but then they both heard someone Calling her name from the inside of her apartment and then the door opened and someone peeked out to see them.

"Wooseok?" Sejun said.

"Hi. Sejun right? It's nice to see you." Wooseok said and Sejun gave him a smile. Well, Atleast tried to.

"Yeah. What are you doing here?" He asked and Jinae cleared her throat beside him but he ignored her.

"Oh I brought Jinae hangover drinks and some breakfast. You?" Wooseok asked.

"I brought cupcakes for Jiah." Sejun mumbled.

Suddenly the said girl in question peaked her head out and yelled happily seeing Sejun.

"Uncle Sejun! Come in! How did you know I wanted to see you today?" She said, grabbing his hand and dragging him in and he followed her. Wooseok and Jinae right behind them.

"What is that?" Jiah asked Sejun and he opened the box for her.

"I got you cupcakes. An extra Oreo for you!" He said and she smiled gleefully, Picking one up and looking at Jinae, who nodded at her and she took her bite.

"You make the best cupcakes in the whole world." She said with a mouthful and he chuckled.

"Why? I got you some too. Don't you like them?" Wooseok interrupted and Jiah looked at him in the eyes and said No.

Sejun couldn't help but snicker at his face. 

"Why?" He asked with a pout and Jiah said, "These are tastier." And grabbed another one when Jinae came and picked the box, afraid Jiah would eat all of them then only.

"Uncle Sejun, Can you teach me to bake?" Jiah asked after she was done with her cupcakes and he shrugged.

"If you have all the items." 

Then they both looked at Jinae who sighed.

"We do have all of it but don't you have to go back to your bakery?" 

"Taesong can handle it for a day. Let's go bake!" He said and Jiah shouted excitedly.

She rushed to the kitchen dragging Sejun and Wooseok and Jinae followed behind.

Sejun taught her step by step and promised to write the recipe down for her too and when finally the cupcakes were in the oven, he started cleaning up while Jiah stared at the oven.

"It won't bake quickly if you stare at them baby. Help your uncle Sejun clean up." Jinae said while coming herself to help him.

"Ehh it's fine kiddo. You watch those cupcakes rise and I'll clean. You don't have to worry Jinae." Sejun said and she nodded but still helped. Wooseok was standing near Jiah to keep an eye on her in case she suddenly wanted to touch the hot glass or something.

Jiah eventually sat down on the floor and looked at her mom and Sejun working comfortably together and cleaning up.

"Mommy.." she said and Jinae nodded at her to continue.

"Do you like uncle Sejun?" 

Everyone literally froze and whipped their heads around to see Jiah looking innocently at her mother.

Wooseok was the first one to come to his senses and he patted her on the head and said, "You should not ask such questions baby." 

She turned her head up at him and asked "Why not?"

Sejun also chimed in,"Yeah. Why not Wooseok-ssi?"

Wooseok was at a loss of words and was looking wide-eyed between Sejun and Jinae.

Jinae finally crouched down in front of her and said, "Of course I do baby. He's your friend, isn't he? And you like him. So mommy likes him too."

Jiah nodded at that and Jinae tried to get up but she tugged at her pyjamas.

"Mommy, do you think uncle Sejun is handsome?" 

Sejun stared at the little girl. Was she really hoping for him to date her mother? That's what she meant right? Like the time she asked him about Jinae at the bakery in front of Seungyoun.

"Yes I think baby. But so is Wooseok. But you know who's the most handsome of all?" Jinae asked and he stared at her back, full of curiosity.

Jiah nodded no and Jinae ruffled her hair.

"Uncle Seungyoun of course. Isn't he baby?" Jinae said and Jiah broke into a giggle. 

"Yes he is. Sad he has a girlfriend." Jiah said and Sejun almost smiled. Almost.

Seungyoun had a girlfriend? He wasn't into Jinae? Well that was one competitor down. 'There's still Wooseok and Seungsik hyung.' Sejun Thought.

Jinae laughed at it though and Sejun smiled. 

"I wish Aunt Aerin could come visit us more. I miss her." Jiah said, looking slightly down and Jinae sighed.

"Well don't we all." 

 ~

Half an hour later Wooseok took his leave and Jiah went to his room to bring her toys to show to Sejun.

Jinae was cleaning the table they had just had breakfast on and Sejun went to stand in front of her, just looking.

"What is it?" She finally asked, looking up at him and he could see a hint of a smile on her face.

"I messaged you today. You didn't reply." 

Jinae gave him a confused look and turned around to look for her phone.

"I'm sorry I haven't had a chance to check my phone yet."

When she finally found it, she saw it had two messages from Sejun and smiled.

"I wanted to talk to you. About what happened yesterday." Sejun said and she looked up with a conflicting face. He wanted to ask what was wrong, why that face but then the bell rang and she went to get the door, leaving him standing in the kitchen.

The door opened and someone else's voice sounded in the house. 

"You really need to start checking your phone. We are meeting an important client tonight that you know nothing about and we need to smarten you up."

"You have got to be kidding me!" Sejun mumbled as Seungsik came from the entrance towards the kitchen with hands full of folders.

"Sejun? What are you doing here?" He asked, genuinely surprised to see him there.

"I brought some cupcakes for Jiah and ended up teaching her to bake some."

Seungsik smiled at him and then Jiah came running out and hugged Seungsik.

"You are going to have a meeting again?" She asked Him and he nodded at her.

"But you can play with uncle Sejun till then, right Sejun? You got somewhere else to be?" Seungsik asked and he shrugged. Might as well.

"Sure. I'll take care of her. You guys go to your meeting or whatever."

"It's not a meeting. It's just a briefing about our new client. We won't be long I promise!" Seungsik said, going towards a room Sejun figured was her office with Jinae behind.

 Well Seungsik's 'we won't be long' turned out to be 2 hours long and when they came back out, Sejun wanted to hit his hyung. All he wanted was to talk to her about the kiss and maybe take her out on a date. Was that too much to ask?

When they came out Jiah complained about being hungry and Jinae said she will cook lunch and asked Seungsik and Sejun to stay for it. Both of them agreed and Sejun offered to help before Seungsik could so he went to play with Jiah.

The whole time he tried to talk to her about yesterday but whenever he would broach the subject, she would just ignore it or start talking about something else and it was doing nothing to calm his anxiety.

When finally the lunch was ready and she was about to go out to call the others, he stopped her.

"Why are you avoiding it?" He finally asked and she turned around to face him, the same conflicting expression on her face only making him feel more nervous.

"I'm sorry for yesterday Sejun. I was drunk and it was a mistake."

He wanted to curl up in a ball and cry but he needed answers first.

"What do you mean? No it wasn't? You know it wasn't a mistake Jinae." He pleaded and he could see it in her eyes that whatever she said, she didn't mean it.

"Sejun, you need to understand. I can't date right now. I have a small child and she comes first. Jiah will always come first. And I don't want her to feel confused and scared about me dating someone."

"But Jiah likes me!" Sejun insisted but she cut him off, "she likes everyone Sejun. EVERYONE. I'm just not ready for a relationship yet. I'm sorry." She said and turned around to leave and called for Jiah and Seungsik.

They both came wandering down, laughing about something and Seungsik helped her sit on her baby chair.

Suddenly Sejun walked out of the kitchen and went to Jiah, kissing her on her forehead he said,"I'm sorry kiddo. I have to go. I just got a call from the bakery and they need me. I'll grab lunch with you someday else alright?" 

Jiah got sad for a second but nodded.

"Pinky promise?" She asked and Sejun locked his pinky with her's.

"Pinky promise." 

He then nodded at Seungsik who gave him a confused look.

"Is it something serious? You don't look too good."

"Don't worry hyung. It's nothing. I'll see you later." And he left, waving them a goodbye as he left.

And it was her turn to stare at his leaving figure. 

#victon #victonwriters #sejun #lim sejun #victon sejun #victon fluff #sejun fluff #victon scenario #victon scenarios #victon imagines #victon imagine

[taleofharrison]

Stuck | Michael Clifford

Summary: The boys try to do something special for the reader’s birthday while on tour but it might take a quick turn into something more.

Warnings: No just the friends to lovers prompt and rusher!reader because I love BTR (me? including Big Time Rush in yet another one of my works? I bet no one saw it coming).

Requested: No

Word Count: Around 1500

A/N: IT’S MY BIRTHDAY TODAY! so this kind of a request I did for myself, the original idea for this was to write 5sos x platonic!reader but it became friends to lovers with Michael. The BTR songs I mention can be found here, here, here, here and here

MASTERLIST HERE

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY” four voices exclaimed waking you up in a quite abruptly way making you forget you were in a bunk in a tour bus hitting yourself with the bunk above yours.

“Ouch sorry” Ashton said “anyways happy birthday to the best tour mom ever”

“Yeah and don’t tell my mom Ash said that” Luke chirped in making you smile.

Even though every time your four best friends had to go on tour begged you to come with them sometimes it just wasn’t possible for you but this time you managed to make time for this tour and whenever it was possible for you to join them you looked after them, stopping them from getting too drunk after a show in case they had to do interviews or something important the next morning or making sure their show outfits were ready before or during soundcheck. You loved and cared for them and they loved and cared for you it was the most beautiful friendship you could ever have.

“Thanks guys” you smiled again with a sleepy voice “how come you woke up before I did?”

“Well we wanted to do something special and surprise you” Michael explained “we can stop near a bakery and buy you a proper cake but for now you’ll have to settle for the last package of Oreo we have”

Calum handed you the package it had a piece of paper pasted to the envelope it said “HAPPY BIRTHDAY” with markers of different colors and their signatures it was the sweetest thing they could’ve done for you.

“You don’t have to buy me anything seriously this is enough” you replied opening the package.

“But we want to” Michael spoke again “You do so much for us”

For a second you lost yourself in his eyes, you had fallen for one of your best friends and after months of denial, thinking it was a stupid crush and it would fade, two weeks ago you finally admitted that you had fallen for him and how could you not? He was sweet and dorky and everything you’ve ever wanted.

“Uh you know what I’m going to get ready for today” you put your Oreos on your bunk “you can eat some if you want”

You left them and went to the back of the bus you closed the door the sound of Big Time Rush began to come from where you were now. Michael smiled of course you were listening to BTR when getting ready he thought it was sweet.

“I think the best birthday present you could give to her is telling her how you feel” Ashton suggested taking a cookie and putting it in his mouth.

“I-what?” Michael gasped “how do you guys know?”

“Mate you’re not very good at hiding your feelings we all noticed” Calum chuckled “don’t worry she’s just as oblivious as you are”

“Can you guys speak lower?” Michael whispered “I can’t have her hearing this”

“She has Big Time Rush sounding as loud as possible from the bluetooth speakers” Ashton laughed “she must be too busy enjoying herself dancing like crazy right now. She’s not going to listen to any of this”

Michael nodded he had a point the song playing was If I Ruled The World and it was your favorite BTR song and by now they had it memorized too “Do you really think I should do something about it?”

“Yep” Luke quickly answered “I can’t stand another conversation with her and about you”

“She told you?” Michael questioned again eyes wide open.

“Dude you know we are close” Luke shrugged “remember that I introduce you guys to her. Of course, she told me!”

Luke was the only one who knew about your crush on him you begged him not to tell the other boys but of course they found out by themselves and nobody had to tell them everybody around you knew but Michael. Maybe they were right it was time to do something about it.

“I’ve been thinking about this for quite a while now” Michael said “maybe we could add a song to the setlist tonight just for her birthday”

They didn’t allow you in the soundcheck which was weird they always wanted you there to be their number one during every rehearsal you immediately brushed it off “Maybe they are planning something silly for my birthday” you thought and kept playing with your phone and listening to music in the tour bus.

By the time of the concert the boys surprised with a cake singing happy birthday to you as funny and as out of tune as they possibly could making you laugh and smile.

“We told you we’d get you a proper cake” Michael smiled “now blow your candles and make a wish”

“Thank you, guys, so much” you said before blowing the candles.

“What did you wish for?” Michael asked.

“Not telling” you smirked “not going to come true if I tell”

“Well let’s eat some cake we have to get to the stage in around half an hour” Luke said.

After your small, improvised party the guys rushed to the stage you of course stood by the side of the stage watching your best friends having the time of their life.

“Cause I’m really not fine at all” they finished amnesia it was followed by the deafening sound of the fans screaming.

“Hey guys” Michael spoke “so tonight it’s a pretty special night because Y/N’s here and it’s her birthday today” and the fans screamed even more. They loved you and even considered you the fifth member of the band because of how pretty your friendship with the boys was.

“She’s a big fan of a band called Big Time Rush and she’s been begging us to do a BTR cover for a long time now” you rolled your eyes at Mike’s comment you weren’t begging you just told them it’d be pretty cool if they did just one song “and since today’s her birthday we are going to surprise her by finally singing one of their songs”

That’s why you weren’t allowed in the soundcheck “Put your lights in the air and please sing this if you know it this is Stuck”

“But I just keep getting…” Mike sang looking at you.

“Stuck, stuck” the boys joined him with harmonies his eyes never leaving yours.

“But I’m never giving…” Michael face went back to the crowd this was the first time in the whole song that he took his eyes off you.

“Up, up” the boys joined him again for the last part of the song “Thank you guys!”

Again, the fans were screaming a lot of them may not know the song, but the song was basically a Michael solo with beautiful harmonies, and it was something they couldn’t experience live every day.

“The next song it’s from our new album CALM” Luke said to the microphone as Michael changed guitars and the iconic sound of Easier filled up the place.

“Can’t sleep?” You asked Michael he was sitting on one of the sofas at the back of the tour bus.

“What are you doing up?” he questioned.

“I can’t sleep either” you sat next to him “great show tonight by the way I really enjoyed the cover section today…thank you”

“Well the four of us wanted to do something special for you…”

“I knew it was your idea” you interrupted him “I could tell it was your idea. It just screamed Michael to me”

“Yes, it was my idea” he said smiling at you “it was nothing I know how much you love those guys I just had to do it and I know someday they’ll get back together and we will collab with them and you can finally meet them then”

“What choice of song” you changed the subject “when I ‘begged’ you to cover a song I told you guys would do a great version of Shot In The Dark or Til’ I Forget About You not Stuck”

“I know that Stuck is one of your favorite songs and I know that you think it’s underrated because a big part of the fandom only recognize Boyfriend as a love song” he explained finally looking at you, you could’ve sworn you saw his eyes shine in the darkness “I know because I listen to you complain about it and this song had a message I really wanted to give to you that’s why I chose it”

“Michael, do you really feel that way about me?” you asked looking down.

“Yeah I do for quite a while now” he answered with a breathless laugh “and I-I think you feel the same?”

“Did Luke tell you?”

“No, he didn’t” he said “actually Ashton told me to do something about it”

“Ashton knows!?” you screamed whispered.

“Apparently everyone knows” he chuckled “but us”

You thought you had been careful and not too obvious about it and of course Luke hadn’t told, you could trust him with your life.

“Can I kiss you?” Michael questioned after a moment of silence.

You just nodded and when his lips touched yours it felt like a thousands fireworks in your stomach it was magical, it was perfect and even though you birthday ended about 3 hours ago it was the best present ever.

“Sorry it took so long” Michael breathlessly said once you pulled apart.

“It was worth it” you smiled leaning to kiss him again. 

Guess your wish came true

(GIF not mine) 

#5sos imagine #5sos imagines #5sos blurbs #5sos blurb #5sos x reader #michael clifford #michael clifford imagine #michael clifford x reader #michael clifford fluff #michael clifford imagines #michael clifford blurbs #michael clifford blurb #My Writing Corner #angela is writing

[stilljustbitten]

Finally, answering prompt number 24 - I don’t know if I’m more proud or ashamed right now from @oreo-cookies-fan (NSFW)

(And, like Martín, I'm not sure if I'm more proud or ashamed of writing this...)

-

Martín doesn’t even know what to do when he gets home at midnight. Normally he wouldn’t have this problem, because he wouldn’t be home until the early morning, but nobody wanted to join him on the dance floor, and just sitting on his ass and talking for hours wasn’t really his thing, so he called a cab.

A decision he regrets now, lying on their bed, not even tired enough to go to sleep. The alcohol is still buzzing through his body, making him restless. For a moment, his hand is on its way down his pants, until he realizes what he’s doing. It used to be such a nice way to spend his time, but Andrés specifically told him not to.

“I don’t want you to touch yourself before I get back,” were his exact words, and Martín just laughed. How stupid and careless he was back then, thinking that it wouldn’t be a problem. What he forgot to consider was how often he used to get off when he was with Andrés, and that he would be gone for three whole days.

This is day three, and Andrés would be home tomorrow at noon. Martín didn’t touch himself once. Okay, except for that one time in the shower where he got lost in thought and had to turn on the cold water to chase his fantasies away.

He tosses and turns in bed for half an hour before he grabs his phone and calls Andrés.

“Yeah,” Andrés answers absentmindedly. Oh, how Martín loves his voice.

“Hey. What are you doing?”

“Just working on one of the paintings I brought with me. How about you, did you have a fun night out?”

“Not really. I wasn’t drunk enough to have fun with that kind of people. I’m just—” he sighs, laying down, “I miss you.”

“You’re horny again?”

“What? No. I mean, yes, but that’s not why I’m calling you. I miss you.”

“I know you do.” Martín can almost hear the smirk. “I’ll be with you tomorrow, I’m sure you’re going to survive.”

“Why are you acting all tough? I know you miss me too. Tell me, what do you miss most, my ass or my mouth?”

“I knew you were horny. Hmm, that’s a tough one, though.” There’s a pause where Andrés actually seems to consider. “I’m tempted to say your mouth, because it’s really skilled, and it’s useful for a lot of things. On the other hand, your ass fits so well around my cock, and the way you look when you wrap your legs around me and lets me pound into you—”

Martín swallows dryly.

“Keep talking.”

There’s a low chuckle from Andrés.

“You know the rules.”

“I know the rules,” he answers with a roll of his eyes. “I’ll keep my hands off my dick. But I like it when you talk like that.”

“Like what? When I tell you what I want to do to you as soon as I get home?”

“Yes. That.”

“Well,” Andrés says, and it sounds like he’s getting comfortable. “As you already know, I miss your mouth terribly. So after kissing it, I’d want it on my cock. I’m sure I wouldn’t even have to ask, you would rip off my pants as soon as I closed the door behind me, wouldn’t you?”

“Probably,” Martín admits, feeling his pants get tight around his crotch.

“I would enjoy the sight of your pretty face for a while before I would grab your hair and start fucking your mouth. Do you have any idea how beautiful you look when your lips are all pink and the tears stream down your face? Don’t touch yourself.”

Martín’s pathetic whine might have been a little louder than he wanted it to be.

“I’m not, I’m just—”

“Good. Where would you want me to come? Would you want to swallow me down, or would you want it on your face?”

“Uh.”

Martín is already having a really hard time not touching himself, as the situation in his pants is getting more uncomfortable. He tucks his free hand behind his head to keep it away.

“Come on, Martín, don’t be shy. Tell me.”

“You can come wherever you want.”

“Thank you. I think I prefer coming inside you, though. Do you like that?”

“Of course I like that.” He squirms a little to get comfortable. “Fuck, can I at least open my pants? This is getting painful.”

“You can open your pants, but no unnecessary touching.”

Martín sighs as he puts the phone on speaker and places it next to him. He can’t help adding pressure as he pulls down the zipper, tracing his erection with one finger, but he makes sure not to make a sound. When his erection is finally free from the restraints of his pants, he exhales loudly.

“Better?” Andrés’ voice asks.

“Much better. You wanted to fuck me?”

To be honest, Martín has no idea why he is urging Andrés to continue because it’s torture when he’s not allowed to touch himself.

“We haven’t done it on the balcony yet.”

“Because everyone would be able to see us.”

“You don’t have a problem with that, do you? I remember when we did it on the side of the road behind that tree, you liked that.”

Martín swallows again because he remembers what a nice fuck it was, and how the risk of somebody seeing them got him off in no time.

“Imagine being out there at night,” Andrés continues, “we would assume everyone was asleep, but in reality, we wouldn’t know if somebody was watching us. We wouldn’t know if somebody saw it when I took out my cock, pulled down the back of your pants, and started fucking you. And you would look so good, bending over, holding on to the fence, trying not to be loud. Maybe I would have to cover your mouth with my hand because you wouldn’t be able to shut up.”

The problem is that Martín can easily imagine all of it, and he misses the feeling of Andrés inside him so terribly.

Desperately, he looks around the bed, because Martín is a smart man, and there has to be a solution for his growing problem. Turns out it’s right there in front of him.

Andrés’ pillow.

Without making too much noise he grabs the pillow, turns to the side and places it in front of his crotch. The fabric barely touches him, but his dick twitches violently, longing for any kind of physical contact.

“Continue,” he tells Andrés with a shaky voice.

“I would slide my hand down the front of your pants to touch you, but I wouldn’t let you come.”

Martín moans at the thought and moves slowly against the pillow. It shouldn’t feel so good, but at this point, he’s so desperate that anything would feel good.

“Every time you were close, I’d stop moving my hand.”

Shit, he is going to come if he keeps this up, and even though he doesn’t technically break the rules of not touching himself, Andrés won’t be pleased. He needs to stop. Now.

“You would be so desperate that you would beg me to let you come, and I would have mercy. I would remove my hand, and I would pin you to the fence and fuck you so hard, and you would scream when you finally came inside your pants with my cock pulsing inside you.”

“Ngh, I’m sorry, An— ah, fuck,” Martín says as he bites his lip and ruts against the pillow one last time before he shudders, feeling the twitch of his dick and the sticky mess it makes inside his boxers.

“I’m sorry,” he pants, rolling to his back.

“You broke the rules,” Andrés states, but he sounds more amused than disappointed. Like he expected him to.

“I didn’t, I swear. I— I didn’t touch myself.”

“Tell me what happened, then.”

Despite Andrés not even being present, Martín blushes.

“Your pillow might need a cleaning,” he answers in a low voice as he watches the wet spot he left. “Shit. I don’t know if I’m more proud or ashamed right now.”

He leans back and laughs.

“Well, at least I know what you would like to try when I get home. I suggest you clean yourself and my pillow, and get some rest because you’ll need a lot of energy tomorrow.”

#prompt fills #berlermo #also on ao3