I Want Two Boys To Fight Over Me Too

“I’m not telling you to make the world better I’m just telling you to live in it. Not just to endure it, not just to suffer it, not just to pass through it, but to live in it. To look at it. To take chances. To make your own work and take pride in it."

Joan Didion

Wait I kinda love this au???

I’ll crawl home to her

Tags: Nanami x fem!Reader, Gojo x fem!Reader, smau, modern au, Nanami and Gojo are corporate baddies, light flirting

An: Texting boss!Nanami and CEO!Gojo 👀 Idea came to me while I was snowed in. Lmk if I should continue it 🤭

Y/N: I’m kind of crushing on someone, but I’m worried about telling you who it is, because you’re not going to like it

Pietro: Just rip the bandage off.

Y/N: It’s Wanda.

Pietro: Put the bandage back on.

From: https://incorrect-quotes-generator.neocities.org

Y/N: Can I sit there?

Pietro: Y/n, that's my lap

Y/N: Doesn't answer the fucking question, buddy

This is great. In fact, this is canon.

A Tale of Three Soldiers

A Tale of Three Soldiers: A Marvel Fanfic

Buy me a ☕ Character Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x Steve Rogers x Wade Wilson x F!Reader

Word Count:  2265

Warnings:  Smut (MMMF Bisexual foursome, oral, anal and vaginal sex)

Synopsis:   Clint told me that Wade told him that he, had an orgy with you Steve and Bucky. This is what he said. Could you please confirm or deny?

A/N:  This may seem like my most crack ooc fic ever, it’s actually the most in character fic of all.

A Tale of Three Soldiers

“Look I know what you’re thinking.  There is no way straight-laced Captain Tight Pants would be seen dead with someone like me.  And first of all, how dare you?  Have you seen this ass?  I worked really hard on making it look this good in a red leather onesie.  Second of all, yeah, okay, Steve Rogers is a little anal.

“A little into anal too, if you know what I mean.

Keep reading

Soft toji is what I need.

Toji who got really drunk after a misunderstanding you left him to ponder upon one morning when you left for work. You missed a part of your routinely goodbye to him and at first it didn't bother him. He understood that you were running late, but once he started chugging the cold drinks and he sat with the sentiment, he realized it did strike him.

He hated the entire process of getting drunk, hated that drinking was unbearable unless it was chased with sweet kisses from you, but there he was, downing bottle after bottle. He was starting to feel liquid full but even in this intoxicated state he didn't want to put down the bottles. At some point he starting feeling uncomfortable being by himself and didn't want to feel that way anymore, so he called and texted you. Multiple times. You finally picked up after the eighth call.

-Hi, baby! Sorry, I missed your calls. I just left work and i'm heading home.-

-Baby? Who are you calling baby?- He scoffs, a roll of his eyes following.

-You... Toji. It's you. Who else would I be calling baby?-

-Honestly, I...- He laughs, the sound not coming off as one of joy with the next words he speaks. -I didn't think you even loved me enough to give me stupid pet names. I feel very unloved by you and... mhm, just want you to know that.-

Now, that's just entirely untrue and it hurts to hear. You prove your love for him every day. What is this sudden false claim against you?

-Toji, love, what are you saying? I'm coming home, already. Maybe we should talk in person. This is hard to discuss over the phone.-

-Uh-huh, you do that.- He sighs, heavily, his eyes lidding with sluggishness. -Can't win a verbal argument, s-so you're gonna come over here and try to seduce me with your pretty face. I'm just gonna say no when you try to touch me. Just no.-

-I'll see you in a bit, Toji.- you say, before abruptly hanging up.

He sounded off. You knew something was up the second you saw his eight missed calls and a stack of messages just saying 'hey'.

Your keys jingled as you pulled them out of your bag to unlock the front door. The house was steady, no sign of Toji watching TV in the living room or of the shower running. You walked further in, calling his name. It was kind of eery walking through your silent house. You also knew of Toji's tendency of scaring you, so you were on guard for that as you paced around the house. You had one more room to check and it was the bedroom. You dragged your feet over to the room, knocking when you noticed the door was closed. There was no answer after two more knocks so you just opened the door.

The sound startled Toji who was lying against the headboard of the bed, almost falling asleep. The second he saw you his demeanor changed. He perked up like a dog when their owner comes home, before melting back to the stoic state he had been sitting in.

"Hey," you say, almost tentatively, as you walk towards your shared bed, sitting down on the edge. You're met with an acknowledging hum of a response. "What's wrong, baby?"

"There you go calling me baby again. Baby is for people who love each other, so stop it."

You look over the bed, spotting the evidence that led to the bite in his attitude towards you— those bottles that spill the remaining drops of their content and Toji's backwash onto the bed, making the sheets reek of alcohol.

"Well, I love you, so no, i'm not gonna stop calling you baby."

He crosses his arms over his chest, huffing like a child. "That so? It didn't seem that way this morning. I've never felt so forgotten about by you."

"I told you I was gonna be late for work, but you insisted on keeping me trapped beneath you. Bring that part to light, handsome." You can see the corners of his lips twitching. He's holding back the most wicked smirk at the short burst of memories from the morning. "Plus, I still gave you your goodbye kiss, so what are you on about?"

"You didn't say 'I love you'. That's part of goodbye with you, so you can't blame me for feeling this way." His eyes express something of hurt. Maybe it's enhanced by the drinks he had, but you can't leave him that way.

"You're loved, baby. Very much so. Me not saying it this one time doesn't diminish the actual feeling." He's been reduced to a cub over this, so as his lover, you step in to mend the feelings that were grazed.

"Can you..." he rasps, patting his thigh, signaling for you to sit. You drag yourself towards him, and plop yourself onto his lap. You can smell the alcohol on his breath as he rambles on about how you can't forget to say 'I love you' to him ever again, even if it's a blurted, rushed one that he doesn't get a chance to respond to as you rush out the door.

The look he reserves for you is entirely soft, his hands are hot against your clothed back as they feel the warm body he's missed for hours. "I still..." he pauses to sigh, tiredness imbued into the sound. "Still want you to call me baby," he starts again. "I was just bummed. Don't stop calling me baby. Don't ever do that." He's letting his hands roam all over you. Your back, your waist, your hips—everything.

"Are you gonna let me touch you or are you gonna say 'no'?" You grin, remembering his words, verbatim, just incase he tries to tell you he never said them.

"Why aren't you touching me? Why would I not want you to touch me?" He looks insulted by the question and you have half a mind to remind him of what he said to you on the phone, but the heat in his eyes dies out as quickly as it appeared. "Really need a hug, mama. Please, hug," he says, the last part muffled by your chest as he keeps his face buried into it.

You held him tight and murmured 'I love you' countless times, while he hummed in response and groaned quietly as you ran your fingers through his hair.

(maybe) distance makes the heart grow fonder (?)

You are extremely tired. Being mistreated, humiliated and talked down on the daily takes a toll on your body and you finally break down. There's not many people that would help you as you grieve the life you've lost and the life you might lose. But maybe some of them care about you more than you think.

Or: you decide to disappear for a while and some jerks miss you, part one. This will be a series~

You didn’t ask for any of that.

You didn’t ask for the dangers, the insults, the threats, the disrespect. 

Funny, there used to be a time in your life in which you’d be thrilled at the idea of a magical world, hidden from most people. You’d run away from reality inside your mind and make yourself the main character of a world in which people could blast magic from their fingertips and, somehow you, plain old you, would attract the attention of the most powerful and most beautiful person in that world. And then something something happily ever after.

You’d never guess that the middle - the “something something” you’d skip thinking about, so you could jump into the end of the story where the happiness is already yours - was the worst part of everything. And that there was no beautiful, powerful person coming to sweep you off your feet and save you from all the hurt.

In fact, the most beautiful and most powerful were the ones hurting you the most.

You scoffed.

If they ever swept you off your feet, it would be to knock you down in the mud and let you fester there, alone.

You looked at your phone, grasping it tightly. It was pinging and pinging nonstop. Messages from Romeo and Jin, you’d guess, but you didn’t even want to look at the bland stock wallpaper of that phone that wasn’t truly your own.

You wondered for a second what happened with all your belongings when you got to the Academy. Everything was ripped from you and you didn’t even know why. You couldn’t log into your personal, old accounts and you couldn’t contact anyone you knew before. It was all gone.

You were plucked from your own life, like someone would pluck an infesting weed.

You wondered if anyone thought of you. Your family, your friends. Did the anomaly erase their memories of you? Did it take that away from you as well? Or was everyone thinking you vanished without a trace, your parents begging the police to find you and your friends sadly looking at the spot you used to sit at in your classroom, reminiscing about the things you used to like as if you were gone forever. And maybe you truly were.

You didn't know which was worse.

Suddenly, an idea popped into your head. You couldn’t log into your old accounts, but maybe you could try to look at them, as a guest.

You sat upright against a large tree in the middle of Jabberwock’s field.

You were hiding in there, being the only space in which you could feel safe and be left to your own devices. 

Hotarubi was also welcoming, but you knew how Zenji would fret over you feeling depressed. Obscuary would also welcome you, but Lyca would never leave you alone, much less give you any space, if he knew you were sad like that.

Meanwhile, in Jabberwock, Haru was too busy, Towa wouldn’t speak because it was daylight and Ren was too emotionally constipated to feel like dealing with you, if he ever stumbled upon you there - which he wouldn’t. So Jabberwock it was.

You typed your old Twitter user on the search bar, feeling a wave of bitter nostalgia as you looked at the name that used to be so intertwined with your life. The page loaded slowly, since you were in the middle of nowhere and the internet was almost just a suggestion; and as the loading bar grew, your stomach churned inside of you, an uncomfortable feeling in the back of your throat setting in and reminding you that doing that was probably a very bad idea.

When you were about to close the tab, the page finished loading.

You were met with your old profile page. The already small following count seemed to be even smaller - people probably unfollowed you after all those weeks of inactivity - but that was barely registered on your mind. What caught your attention was the last tweet you had posted:

“Going to see the last show of my favorite band before they disband… this is the most tragic thing to ever happen in my life”

You blinked slowly, reading and re-reading the tweet you had posted on that accursed September 3rd in a loop.

And then you laughed.

You rested your head on your hands, phone flush against your forehead, and you laughed loudly, like you had just heard the funniest joke in the entire world.

And when the lump in your throat became too much for you to ignore, the laughter became a scream.

You screamed and screamed and screamed, as tears fell from your eyes in an endless flow.

You wailed like you hadn’t allowed yourself to do for all the time you’ve been in Darkwick. The grief came crashing down onto you mercilessly and you felt like you were drowning. You felt how your throat got hurt as you screamed, but the pain was nothing next to the weight of everything you had lost and everything you were going through.

You choked with your own saliva, retching painfully and feeling the metallic taste of blood, but the tears just wouldn't stop. You fell forward, curling into yourself and looked at the phone in your hand.

The irony of that tweet, the foreshadowing, was simply too much for you to handle.

You wanted to go back. 

You needed to go back to that time in which the saddest thing happening to you was a stupid band disbanding. 

You desperately wanted to go back to a time in which you didn’t have power hungry men insulting and humiliating you like you were lesser than human, calling you a servant, or a worm, or a bitch.

When you didn’t have a crazed psychopath threatening your life with a gun to your temple or a knife to your throat. 

When you didn’t have a guillotine hanging upon your head every single moment of your life, tick-tocking with the reminder of your imminent death.

You watched your tears fall to the grass, alongside the drool from your lips as you kept on crying loudly. It felt like it would never stop. You had too many tears long unshed to be able to stop, even if your throat was destroyed at this point, with how much you screamed.

The sound of grass being quickly stomped reached your ears for a moment, but you felt too weak to look up. You just kept on crying and moaning, now that your voice was almost gone.

A hesitant hand touched your back.

“Dandelion?” Towa’s voice reached your ears and you jerked up, flinching at his touch.

He was crouched right before you and you watched as his eyes widened and his eyebrows knitted together, concern being clear on his face. You were probably a dreadful sight at that moment.

“Towa…” you tried to say but your voice sounded raspy and barely audible.

His hands gently rested on your shoulders as he kneeled. “What happened, Dandelion?”

You noticed how he was talking despite it being daylight outside. The sincerity of his worry and his touch made the tears quickly come back, and you realized how starved of comfort and gentleness you were.

You shaking hands grasped his shirt and you slowly pulled him towards you, silently asking for a hug. Towa immediately complied, shifting his position so he could hold you.

This time, your tears were silent. You sniffed and cried quietly, wetting the fabric of Towa’s clothes as he held you close, hands tracing circles on your back.

Despite Towa’s unpredictable nature, he was patient. You knew that meant a lot. He liked you enough to stay still and let you cry without explaining yourself.

After a while, you began feeling self-conscious about being a bother and you forced yourself to untangle from his embrace, sniffling and rubbing your puffy eyes. His hands followed you and he kept his tight hold on your arms.

“I’m sorry I cried so much.” you whispered.

Towa shook his head and his eyes still glinted with worry.

“What happened?” he repeated.

Your lips quivered, but you swallowed the tears, feeling the burn in your throat.

“I’m tired.” you said, looking down. He hummed, not really satisfied with your short answer.

“I heard you scream. You’re so far away from our house, it took me some time to find you. I thought you were getting killed.” he leaned down, trying to keep his face in your field of view, and he looked as sad as he possibly could.

You chuckled humorlessly.

“I’m sorry. It’s just… Today was too much.”

Towa stayed in that awkward position, and he blinked at you, patiently waiting for you to continue and you realized he wouldn’t just let you keep things to yourself.

You sighed, which came out with a ragged sound since your nose was stuffy, and straightened your back so he could change his position.

“Not everybody is like you or Haru. Most people are very mean in this place. And I’m sick of it. They hurt me intentionally even though I did nothing wrong. I'm tired of it” you tried summing it up as best as you could, because you knew you would probably cry again if you told him how terribly you had been treated on that specific day and why it was the straw the broke the camel's back. 

He nodded.

“Yes, only Haru is nice. And you, Dandelion!” he smiled.

You smiled weakly, for what felt like the first time in a lifetime.

“Thank you, Towa. I really like you.”

Towa beamed at your words, hands gliding down your arms to hold your hands tightly.

“I love you, Dandelion!” he said, happily.

You knew he didn’t really mean it. Towa was, for some reason, obsessed with love and romance and you were pretty sure he would say it to anyone he liked. It did feel good to hear this after being so beaten down, though.

His face suddenly fell and he frowned.

“Let’s go to our house. You look sick. We can ask Haru to help you feel better!” he said, getting up and pulling you with him.

You knew there wasn’t any way to convince Towa to just let you be once he decided something, so you let him lead the way, taking clumsy steps behind him as you tried to find the strength to walk properly again.

I'm crying 😂😂

someone make brat!reader exposing daddy!steve to the team an imagine/blurb pls i need to see the hysterics more in depth

occupation: brat masterlist

The team – after the fiasco that was your relationship’s reveal – settles into the groove of things after a while. Sam still fake-pukes when Steve kisses your cheek and Natasha still warns Steve to keep his hands where she can see them when you’re cuddling on the couch, but things have generally reverted back to normal. And – to your relief – nobody had made a big deal out of it when you started calling Tony dad.

(Except Tony, that is, who has never not made a big deal out of anything in his life.)

You don’t know exactly when it happened. After telling him that you felt like he was the father you never really actually had he’d taken up the mantle fully, but you hadn’t had the nerve to fully call him dad. Until you did, of course, and nobody had said anything. Pepper had glassy eyes and Sam looked like the human embodiment of Surprised Pikachu but other than that, everything was going smoothly.

Until, of course, everyone had gathered for a team potluck on a Friday night. Well, you say potluck, but really it was just Sam bringing the entire meal and Wanda making dessert, because Clint apparently has no culinary skills, Natasha was busy sharpening her knives, Bucky is a senior citizen, and Vision doesn’t eat, so he doesn’t cook. Every one of your teammates is a liar, you’ve come to realise.

You’re chewing on a piece of Mac n’ Cheese when the ball drops.

“Daddy, pass the salt?”

A tale as old as time.

Tony and Steve both reach for the salt shaker.

And it’s painful, really. Kill Bill sirens going off in the background, Tony staring wide-eyed at the table in front of him, Sam choking and hacking on a piece of chicken. Bucky has gone stock still. Clint’s drink was spit back into his cup – Wanda’s trying so fucking hard not to laugh and failing miserably, and Vision, bless him, has no clue what’s going on.

Bruce’s lips are but a thin line, wide eyes flickering unsurely between Tony and you and Steve and Sam because Jesus Christ, Sam, are you genuinely choking?

Yes. Yes, he is.

With flushed cheeks you glance up at your super-soldier boyfriend, and clearly, he’s just as embarrassed as you are. He’s literally a tomato, his hand still frozen over the unassuming salt shaker, and for a moment you genuinely think you’re going to die. The floor is going to open and you are going to be put out of your misery–

Tony has reached the final stage of grief; acceptance, albeit hesitant and slightly disgusted. He clears his throat and pushes out his chair, rubbing at his eyes tiredly. Fatherhood really takes a toll on you, huh? 

“I’m going to get another drink,” he says steadily, peering around the table. “And when I get back, we’re going to pretend that that never happened.”

“Agreed,” is chorused back unanimously.

tags:

Marvel: @dukehoods / @marvelsangel / @mysteryoflovve / @taeeemin / @iloveyou3000morgan / @mochibarnes / @https-bucky

Steve Rogers: @songforhema / @buckybarneshairpullingkink

Brat: @momobaby227 / @noire-griot / @bambifatale / @mikariell95 / @youpenguinadonis / @strangerliaa / @aquaastrid / @90sinspiredgirl

!!! YES !!!

Part Seven: when I'm near you

PT 1 PT2 PT3 PT4 PT5 PT6

Summary: The morning after Connor and Y/N's first night together is interrupted by no other than Hank Anderson.

Warnings: Cursing, Some smut

A/N: Sorry for the wait, I've been super busy! As always thanks for reading and interacting with this series, it's really fun to write! I'm going to try to post again soon, I'm thinking of a pretty fluff chapter with Y/N and Connor's blossoming relationship! Hope you enjoy it and I hope your day is rad!

The morning after your first night with Connor, you awake in his arms to find him gazing at you, a soft smile on his lips.

“Good morning.” You murmur sweetly and cuddled up against his chest, as he kisses the top of your head. You can hear your dog snoring in the living room, crisp morning air flowing in through your cracked bedroom window; everything feels just right.

“Are you hungry? I can prepare you some breakfast if you like.” Connor offers nuzzling his chin against you.

“Mmm maybe later, I just want to stay like this for a little while, another hour or two or forever.” You tell him and hear him chuckle.

“That sounds good to me.”

A little while later your cuddling is interrupted by a loud thumping knock on your front door.

“Y/N! You in there?” Hank calls out. Both of your eyes shoot open, and you look at each other in a panic.

“Shit!” You both curse and stumble out of the bed, quickly dressing yourselves. It seems you both overslept for work.

“Should I get the door?” Connor asks as he buttons up his white shirt.

“No! You need to hide; I want to tell Hank about us but not like this.” You say quickly.

“Us?” Connor smiles.

“Well were you planning on hitting and quitting it?” You joke but Connor cocks his head in confusion.

“Don’t worry about it, I just want to tell him over dinner or something.” You explain slipping a shirt over your head and moving over to your dresser mirror to look over yourself.

“Connor! You left a mark on my neck!” You tell him exasperated.

“Apologies, I was just so…enthused.” He says and comes up behind you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into him, softly feeling you up as he plants light kisses on the marks on your neck. You feel your previous irritation leave you, and you melt away in his arms, you can feel him hardening behind you, and just as your about to reach down to tease him you hear Hank at the door again.

“Y/N! I’m coming in if you don’t get this door in the next 30 seconds!” He calls.

“Closet now!” You order and shove Connor towards your closet, pulling him down towards you for a kiss before you shut him in.

“Don’t make a sound.” You whisper and head towards your front door, wrapping a scarf around your neck before you do. 20 seconds after Hank’s warning, just as you enter your living room your front door is kicked open by the LT. Your dog looks up for a moment, and when he sees that it's Hank he goes back to sleep.

“Jesus Hank! I gave you a key, you didn’t have to kick the damn door in!” You yell. Hank, who entered with his gun drawn looks around the room before slumping his shoulders apologetically.

“I forgot about the key, sorry. Could’ve been worse, I could’ve busted out your window and slapped ya across the face. Anyway, what happened to you? Where were you all morning, I’ve been worried sick.” Hank asked holstering his pistol.

“I just overslept; I was up all night watching a horror movie marathon.” You lie. He looks you over suspiciously.

“Your heater on the fritz or something? What’s with the scarf?”

“The…movie marathon was mainly vampire stuff, so I… did it so I wouldn’t get bit in my sleep.” You struggle, you’re usually a good liar, but not to Hank.

“Huh, right. Where’s he at?” Hank chuckles.

“Huh?” You feign ignorance.

“Connor wasn’t at the station this morning either. I may be an idiot but I’m not dumb. Connor! Get out here!” Hank yells out. Nothing but silence echoes through the house before you eventually give in.

“Come on out Connor!” You blush. You both hear the sound of your closet door opening and then listen as Connor makes his way to the living room, awkwardly looking to both of you before fixing his eyes to the floor.

“Good morning Lt, I bet your wondering why I am here. There is a perfectly reasonable-

“Shut the fuck up Connor I know what you’re doing here and frankly I’d rather not think about it. Just get dressed and get to the station, I’ll cover for you with Fowler.” Hank sighed waving Connor off.

“Thank you.” You breath with relief.

“Don’t mention it and actually Connor you’re going to ride with me, we’re going to have a little talk about this “thing”. It is a thing, right?” Hank asks. You interlock your fingers with Connor and smile up at him kissing him lightly.

“It is.” You smile and feel Connor squeeze your hand.

“Ugh alright cut that shit out. Come on Connor get yourself together, I’ll be in the car.” Hank instructs and heads out the door. As the Lt. shuts the door behind him Connor pulls you in for a deeper more intense kiss, his hands tracing the whole of your body, tangling in your hair. It’s a whirlwind until he pulls away.

“I like being a thing with you.” He says with a blush.

“I like being a thing with you too.” You grin. Hank honks his horn impatiently outside and Connor reluctantly releases his hold on you.

“I’ll see you at the station, I wonder what Hank wants to talk about.”

“He probably wants to make a bunch of threats about what he’ll do to you if you hurt my feelings.”

“Oh, well…I’m sure he’ll be creative in his threats. Luckily it’s a short drive to the station.”

“I’m sure, well you better not keep him waiting any longer.” You say and lead him to the door. Connor walks down your driveway to Hank’s car, grinning from ear to ear at you as you wave goodbye, your heart can hardly handle how cute he is. Hank rolls his eyes and rolls up Connor’s window, then locks all the doors.

“Lt?”

“We’re going to take the long way to the station today.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, gotta cover all the different ways I’m going to kick your ass if you break Y/N’s heart.”

If you can't tell, lyca is my favourite character

//eps ten spoilers

Beggining of chapter vs end of chapter

..Lyca looks so devastated I cant do this anymore kill me