i'm sure one of us would love to volunteer to warm you up

Mama, Mama

Pairing: Mikey Way x Reader

Genre: Fluff

Summary: You and Mikey are the proud parents of a baby girl. Today is your first Mother’s Day since she was born. 

A/N: Happy Mother’s Day 2017 to all my followers who have/are moms worth celebrating. :) 

You were awoken by the smell of coffee and roses. You opened your eyes to find your husband, Mikey, smiling down at you. In one hand, he held a steaming mug of warm java. With his other arm, he held your infant daughter.

“Happy Mother’s Day, Y/N,” he greeted warmly.

This was your first Mother’s Day as a mother. You’d given birth to your firstborn just two weeks ago. My little girl made it just in time, you thought fondly.

“I wanted to make you breakfast in bed, like Gee and I used to for our mom,” Mikey explained. “The cinnamon rolls are still in the oven, but I didn’t want your coffee to get cold.”

“Thank you, Mikey,” you said, touched, as you accepted the mug and took a sip. “Wow, it tastes great.”

“I got your favorite creamer from the corner store,” Mikey replied, grinning.

Keep reading

Baking Powder

When Steve was done with destroying three punching bags, remembering that Tony made him an inforced one and proceeding doing his best to destroy it as well (it held, he had to admit, he was impressed), he finally felt that he could sleep. But as he made his way up, he decided to get a bottle of water out of the kitchen first. What welcomed him was the loud and obnoxious (though somewhat addictive) sound of ACDC blasting through the room.

It was 3:37 in the morning. What was going on?

Next, the smell of something mouthwatering assaulted his nose and he was even more confused. Because ACDC at 3am? Tony. The smell of freshly baked nougat scones? Not so much.

But apparently just that, because there was indeed one Tony Stark, dressed in a ridiculous ‘Kiss the Superhero’ apron by the stove. 'Tony?’

'Fucking hell!’ The flail was hilariously elegant. The middle finger less so. 'Jesus, Cap, warn a mortal.’ He snapped, with no real heat behind the words. Steve swore he even saw a blush on the back of his neck.

'Sorry.’ And he was, he hadn’t actually planned to scare the man. 'What are you doing?’ He then asked cautiously, because… no, he still wasn’t buying it that Tony Stark was baking in an apron at 3am on a Friday night.

Tony just gave him a look and reached behind him for something to present it to Steve. 'Cranberry Muffin?’ Blinking, Steve took the offered cake but left it in his hand to examin. 'Its a Cranberry Muffin, Steve, not a time bomb.’

'I wouldn’t know with you.’ His answer was dry and he would’ve felt guilty for the wince he earned but the grin showed him that Tony wasn’t really insulted.

'Yeah, I guess not.’ He sighed - and okay, maybe Steve was wrong and he should apologize. 'To answer your question; I’m stress baking.’

'You’re wha…’ He started to ask, but a ring - was that seriously an egg timer?! - interrupted him.

'Hold on a second, my scones are ready.’ The engineer quickly, turned around, fumbling a little while looking for his mittens, to take out the tray. An almost orgasmic smell filled the room and Steve was pretty sure his heart melted a little when he saw the small, proud smile on Tony’s face.

'You’re stress baking.’ He stated, just to be completely sure. This was bizarre.

'Yes, I tend to do that. A lot.’ The engineer turned back to him with narrowed eyes. 'Did you never notice the gigantic basket of bakery stuff on the counter, they are there about thrice a week.’

Steve laughed. 'Oh I did, to be honest I just never connected them to you of all people.’ He didn’t mean it as an insult. He didn’t, but it was Tony Stark, engineer, playboy, sometimes basket case. Who could blame him?

'No, no I get it. I always get that look, don’t worry.’ Tony took out a spatula and placed the scones on a cooling tray. He then pulled out another bowl and seemed to start anew.

Curious, Steve sat down at the counter to watch him work. 'What are you doing next?’

'Cinnamon rolls.’ He smiled when he looked up and then barked out a laugh when he saw the Captain’s beaming face.

'They are my favourite!’ He cheered excitedly, successfully turning himself into an 8 year old.

Tony chuckled. 'I know they are, Cap.’ He admitted softly.

A confused but warm smile spread over Steve’s face. 'Thank you.’

'Don’t thank me yet, I could still be lying and feeding you crap.’ An evil glint in his eyes, Tony finished the batter in record time.

Steve hummed. 'You could, but I just ate that Cranberry Muffin and beg to differ.’

'Good, huh?’ That little proud smile was back. 'Its the first time I made them actually, good to know they taste well.’

'I’m gladly volunteering as your taster, Shellhead.’

Tony laughed. 'Why thank you, Spangled. You’re gonna have to stand in line with Clint, though.’

'He knows?’ Steve felt oddly… jealous that he wasn’t the first one to know.

The engineer didn’t seem to notice, thank god and only nodded his head distractedly. He was currently forming the rolls with a sure hand, clearly not for the first time. 'Yeah, he sneaked up on me one night, demanding chocolate chip cookies.’

The Captain felt his mouth watering. 'Darn, I remember those.’ They stayed silent for a second until Steve couldn’t hold it in any longer. 'Alright, I have to ask. How come Tony Stark knows how to bake? Didn’t you have like… a personal chef or something?’

'Oh, we did. It’s Jarvis’ fault.’ When Steve only frowned in confusion, he smiled. 'When my parents forgot their only child again and again, Jarvis used to watch me and when I was my hyperactive, annoying self he had to 'unbore’-’ He actually used air quotations. ’-me somehow. When he got fed up, he dragged me either into the kitchen or into the garden.’

'Jarvis?’ Steve concealed the wince he felt when Howard was mentioned but something else confused him. 'Your… A.I. Jarvis?’

'What? No, of course not.’ Now Tony looked perplexed but then his eyes windened. 'Oh right, you don’t know. Jarvis used to be our butler. He was like a… Grandfather I guess? He died a few years ago, amazing man, only old age could ever get to him.’ He smiled softly and a little sadly. 'It was only natural for me to name my A.I. after him.’

'I… I didn’t know that.’ The former soldier felt somewhat speechless. It was the first time Tony was so… forward and honest with him. 'I’m sorry.’

Tony waved him off. 'Oh don’t be. It was… Peaceful. He told me not to worry about him. That he had had a good life and that he was glad to have been part of our family. He told me he was proud of me.’

Hesitating only for a second, Steve reached forward and took the engineer’s hand, squeezing it a little. 'So, gardening, huh?’ He smiled and if Tony jumped a bit at the contact, he didn’t mention it.

'Right.’ He squeezed back hesitatingly and slowly let go. 'Yeah, we used to have this gigantic, pretentious garden and he would drag me out when it was sunny outside - believe me, I take the drag part literally, the first time I was kicking and screaming, demanding him to let me get back to my workshop.’ He chuckled. Steve could see that, really. 'It never really was my thing, to be honest. But the baking? Yeah, that’s pretty cool.’

Steve smiled slowly. This was nice. Talking to Tony like this. Really nice. 'So… Cinnamon Rolls, huh?’

'What? Yeah, they should be ready in a bit, what of it?’

The Captain’s grin turned smug. 'I get here and you make my favourite sweets? Knowingly? You want to tell me something?’

On the one hand, he loved the blush on Tony’s face. On the other, he cursed himself for saying anything because he saw the sudden tenseness in his shoulders. 'I… I was just trying to be nice.’ He said between gritted teeth, his hands fumbling as he started to clean everything up.

'Hey…’ Steve stood up and circled the kitchen island to stand beside him. 'Let me try something?’ He asked, determination his his eyes. Tony looked up at him, suddenly feeling way too small. He nodded nevertheless, but flinched a little when big hands framed his face.

Before he could even comprehend what was happening, could even tell himself that it was not what he was hoping for, Steve was kissing him. And man, was that what he had hoped for.

The kiss was slow, sweet and tasted of sugar and cranberries. It should be hilarious, really, just completely rom com. But it was awesome.

When Steve leaned back, Tony could only stare at him. 'What… what was that?’ He asked, almost in a daze.

The Captain chuckled. 'You can take it as a thank you for the rolls…’ He hesitated but smiled when he saw the displeased frown on the engineer’s face. 'Or I could help you with clean up, prepare the usual basket and take you to bed. With me.’ Before Tony could answer anything - lewd probably - he framed his face again. 'To sleep, Shellhead. To sleep. And tomorrow, you will go out with me. Deal?’

Tony grumbled, but leaned into the touch nevertheless. 'Not fair. But deal.’

anonymous asked:

kuroken 24 but with cats

24) “This is the fifth cat you’ve brought home this week. This cannot continue.”

The door creaked open as Tetsurou stepped inside his apartment. He held the take-out bag firmly as he slipped his shoes off and tried to avoid stepping on Buttercup’s paws. The ginger cat mewed and Tetsurou knew her sudden love for him was just for the food. 

“Sorry love, you’re not getting any.” Tetsurou told her as he made his way to the kitchen. 

Kuro must have caught the scent as well since he purred against the raven-haired man’s leg. 

Shaking his head, Tetsurou kept the takeout in the microwave- away from his furry companions. He picked up the black cat and entered the bedroom. 

“I brought food.” He announced and sleepy eyes blinked at him. Tetsurou grinned as he let go of Kuro and stroked the mop of dyed blond hair. “How long were you asleep Kenma?” 

“Mmm.” Kenma shifted a bit, “Not long…I finished my coding assignment.” 

He pushed himself up and frowned a bit as he glanced at the clock. “Did you come home now?” 

Tetsurou rubbed the back of his neck, “Well…it was a busy day. I had lectures and Bokuto wanted us to take part in the volunteer drive because Akaashi was supposed to give the opening speech.” 


“And then Terushima lost his wallet so we had to go find it.” 

Kenma’s frown deepened. “And then you went to get food…you could have just told me you were busy.” 

“Never occurred to me?” 

Kenma rolled his eyes and cupped Tetsurou’s face. Tetsurou closed his eyes, expecting a kiss, but he was met with a sharp pain on his forehead. 

“What was that for?” Tetsurou pouted as he rubbed his aching forehead. 

Kenma huffed before he slid out of the bed and picked up a white cat which had been trying to jump on the dresser. Tetsurou hadn’t noticed the cat before when he had entered the room. 

Which cat was this one again? He couldn’t remember it’s name. 

There was Buttercup, their ginger. Then it was the black cat which Kenma unceremoniously decided to call ‘Kuro’. Then came their tabby cat which Tetsurou named ‘Ai’ and then there was ‘Sakura’, their recent addition to the family with her lovely black ad white coat. 

Now that he had listed their cats, he realized that they didn’t actually own a white one. 

“Kenma…who is that?” Tetsurou asked slowly. 

“I don’t know what to call him.” 

Tetsurou groaned and let himself fall backwards in the bed. “This is the fifth cat you’ve brought home this week. This cannot continue.”

“Not this week.” 

“Still.” Five cats were a lot of cats. Considering Kenma even acted like one would make it as if Tetsurou lived with six cats. 

Six cats were a lot of cats. 

Six cats required a lot of food, time and energy. 

The sixth cat was currently angry with him too. It’s not as if Tetsurou could help it. He couldn’t say no to people. How could he refuse people when they asked for help? 

You can start by saying ‘no’.” Tetsurou winced as he remembered Kenma’s words a few months back when he had exhausted himself from helping other people. He had to teach Terushima, he had election campaigns to run for a fellow batch mate and he had signed up for the management team in an event since they didn’t have many volunteers. 

Sure it was tiring, but he brought ease in so many people’s lives. However Kenma was always there to remind him of his limits. He should have listened to him. Tetsurou swallowed as he realized he had been doing just that. Kenma knew he was tired, he could always tell when Tetsurou was getting himself into trouble. And now he was angry because none of his warnings had made any difference. 

He got up and noticed the bedroom was empty, save Sakura who was curled up in the corner. 

“I may have messed up Sakura.” 

When he got no reply, he ran his fingers through his hair and made his way into the kitchen where Kenma stood, making tea. 

Tetsurou wrapped his arms around Kenma’s waist from behind, burying his face in the other’s hair. 

“Kenma.” He mumbled, “I’m sorry.” 

They stayed like that for a while before the kettle whistled. Tetsurou let go and Kenma poured the tea in the cups. 

“What should we name him?” Kenma asked, as if nothing had happened before. 

“Snowflake?” Tetsurou offered. 

“Too mainstream.” Kenma smiled as he handed Kuroo his cup. 

“Then…Sugar?” Tetsurou followed Kenma to the lounge and sat next to him. 

Kenma pulled up his legs and shifted closer to Tetsurou, till their shoulders bumped. 

“Take care of yourself idiot.” 

Tetsurou blinked in surprise and glanced at Kenma who was chewing on his lip. “All I can do is tell you to stop. But if you won’t listen…then I can’t be much help either, right?” 

“I’m sorry. I’ll try to think about myself.” Tetsurou laughed but stopped shortly when Kenma gave him a glare. 

“You have to think about yourself Tetsurou.” 

Tetsurou put his cup on the coffee table and Kenma followed suit. 

“I will.” He held Kenma’s warm hands and stroked his thumb over the other’s fingers. 

Kenma nodded and closed their distance by pecking Tetsurou on the lips. 

“I was thinking of Mochi.” 

Tetsurou grinned. “I think that suits him purr-fectly.”

“Do you have to make that pun every time?” 

A laugh escaped his mouth and he pressed his forehead against Kenma’s. 

“As long as you bring in more cats to name. Which should stop. We can’t afford so many cats.” 

“There is no such thing as too many cats.” 

“There is.”

“There isn’t.”

“There is.”

“There isn’t.”



Earthly Tether (Part 1)

Summary:  Kataang. Monk!AU. When he had to let her go so that he could focus on his path to enlightenment, she supported him. Now, almost a year and half later, he changes paths again. But life is more than finding true love. Sometimes its about finding yourself too. 

I got an anon request for a taboo love au–so, I decided to do if Aang was an actual monk au! A lot of gestures, titles, and overall reactions I got from Tibetan Buddhism  (such as how monks are able to act with women, bumping of foreheads, etc, etc). In no way is this a true representation of Buddhism or how all Buddhist monks act, but it was my source material. Without further ado, here is my monk AU. 

WC: ~ 2,000

 Katara felt surreal.  It had been a little under a year and half when he politely asked her to stay out of his life, but yesterday he had called wishing to see her.  So, now she was driving over two hours away to a monastery deep in the mountains.   

Thinking back on the day he turned her away, his words echoed in her head–his voice oddly stoic over the phone. He said that their relationship was a distraction and it left him feeling too conflicted to focus on his path. That night, she wept. And she wept the nights, weeks, and months after his rejection, but she couldn’t blame him.

Keep reading

ficlet: Cat's Cradle

After a bad breakup, Kurt goes to a cat shelter seeking a fluffy companion and finds something a little better. 

(This may be the weirdest thing I’ve ever written. Blame andercasand mailroomorderfor the prompt)

His world. Is. Ending. 

This is it.

This is the end. 

Kurt lets his tears fall into his third pint of Ben and Jerry’s in just as many days, but he doesn’t care. 

There’s no point in caring, ever since he walked in Jeremy in bed with the TA from their Performance History class. Naked. In his bed. 

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Could you do the reader and Dean with #17? I love your story! You're amazing, thank you!!

Y/N and Dean, #17: “I didn’t know you could sing.”

Thank you so much for the kind words, love <3 You’re amazing too! I hope you enjoy reading. Word count’s 863 since it’s basically a baby fic hehe. I hope you don’t mind the song choice oh my. I just picked it bc Mommy Winchester used to use Hey Jude as a lullaby for baby Dean so yeah c:

-Chrissy x

Keep reading