AkameArashi

A/N: Mention of Dick Pic, Tinder (?) ~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~. A sigh escapes you, eyes glued to the big screen over your head. You just wanted to go home after the holidays and now your flight got delayed for three hours. And there goes your wishful thinking of spending your evening on your couch, snuggling into your fluffy blanket and watching some movies. But you can’t change it and so you turn back and look through the waiting room, searching for a free seat. You found one and flop down, groaning at the weird shape of the chair. Pulling out your phone, you send a text t

Christmas is the time of family and love, the air is filled with sweet smelling chocolate and cinnamon. The houses decorated with lights and reindeer statues. The hearts grow warm when it gets cold outside. People bundled in thick jackets and scarves. Movies playing around love and family, the mistletoes trapping couples and not couples underneath them. Making them follow tradition with the added peer pressure of their friends around them. Bucky thought the tradition stupid, it didn't make any sense. Why would you be trapped underneath that with a person you don’t know? He always felt the anxiety when he went to Tony’s Christm

“I want to get drunk.” You say closing your laptop and pushing it away from you lay your head on your kitchen table. There were folders full of files and paperwork that your coworkers had conveniently decided to make mistakes on so now it was up to you to finish it.   “Okay, and what brought this about?” Chris asks as he walks into the living room wearing his red and blue flannel pullover and a pair of blue jeans. You loved that pull over. When he had some off time from work and could grow a beard he looked like a sexy lumberjack. You watch him for a moment as he pours himself a glass of homemade lemonade his mother ha

You tap your pen against the paper, the noise syncing up with the music coming from your headphones. Humming along you ignore your surroundings, making up your own world in your mind and getting it on paper. It’s your passion, the one thing you can keep in this technology-driven world. Paper and pen are your friends. Some would say that you are old school, why not use the voice to written word function that are on basically all the devices these days. But something about the smooth feeling of the paper, the blending whiteness at the start and the rough wood of the pen make you feel safer than anything could do. Devices can be hacked,

Steve sighs yet again as he listlessly looks about the club. He really had no desire to be here, but Tony and Clint really had a way with words. Plus it didn’t hurt that they mentioned that you would be tagging along. Truth be told, the blonde had quite the crush on you, but he could never work up the courage to vocalize this emergence of feelings. Not to mention he always had to play Captain America and you were always rushing about doing whatever it is level 7 SHIELD agents do. Steve couldn’t even strike up a conversation with his so called friends. Clint had disappeared almost the instant you all had entered the building and T

Music blasted through the speakers in your apartment in Boston. You were dancing and singing as you cleaned the floor, sometimes using the tube of the vacuum as a microphone, making sure your hair didn’t get sucked in. You weren’t particularly keen on cleaning, but with some good music and a glass of wine you got yourself through it. Whether your neighbours were very happy about it…      Probably not.    You were so busy cleaning you didn’t even hear your doorbell. You loudly sang along with one of your favourite songs and danced through your living room, not noticing your apartment door being opened and the man tha

My Meatballs (Chris Evans X Reader) A/N: This is a little bit of a continuation of my other Chris Evans x Reader ~ I don’t wike it. You may want to read that first here~  https://www.deviantart.com/art/I-Don-t-Wike-It-Chris-Evans-x-Reader-541856918 ‘’Ay Yo Chris, where you at?’’ You called as you dramatically threw your car keys down on the table in the hallway of your shared home. You waddled into the living area, hand on your now prominent 6 months pregnant belly. You and a few friends had gone shopping for the baby, since you and Chris didn’t want to know the gender of your baby, you had gone for unise