#it's that one. that one is likely to fuck me up long term

[mr-tony-stark]

Tony’s eyes flicked over Clint as he told the story, trying to look for tells to see if he was lying at all.  It seemed like he was telling the truth, but Tony had been burned by people in the past that he’d thought cared about him.  Almost fatally.

“It’s a problem because dating fans is  -” he let out a breath.  “Look.  For starters, if I date someone who’s a fan, then I can’t trust that they’ll do things based on what they actually want over what they think they need to to keep me in their life.  It’s the same as how teacher’s can’t date a student.  There’s a power dynamic that’s really skewed in the wrong way.  And I already have to worry about that just because of the amount of money I have.  Clint - I don’t think you realize how much power fame and money comes with.  I’ve slept with people by pointing at them and beckoning them over.  We didn’t even need to speak.  The money and fame was enough for all their common sense to fly out the window.  That’s bad enough if it’s a one time thing.  In those cases, as long as we’re keeping it fairly vanilla the hope is they have a good time and end up with a story they can tell for a while.  But long term?  It’s just a really fucked up dynamic”

He shook his head.  “And on my side, how can I trust that person?  How can I know that they even care about me as a person and not the celebrity they built up in their head?  I hear from Margot that you used to talk about me - and yes, you’re right, I’m famous, but so is Tom Cruise and I never talk about him - and I can’t help but think you’re only here because young you fantasized about it and went for it as soon as you got a chance.  I mean you’ve put up with me doing some pretty shitty things, Clint.”

Clint blinked in surprise at his words a blush forming on his cheeks. “First of all, why would it be weird? Everyone knew who you were, but that’s not the point,” he spoke waving his hand. “Okay so—-“ he rubbed the back of his neck and sighs. “First time I heard of you was through Margot. I was… around 20 at the time? Ish?” He spoke and nodded a bit.

“Not sure, anyways… I had always been unsure of my sexuality and then Margot was watching you on tv and well—“ he sighs obviously flustered. “I thought you were hot,” he spoke and nodded. “And I let a comment slip about how I definitley knew I was bisexual, because you were hot to me,” he spoke and waved his hand.

“I never like searched for you or anything, but from there on Margot teased me about thinking her like, idol, was hot. I never brought it up. But when she talked about you I would always mention, well he’s hot there’s that,” he explained. “So yes, I was talking about you but I wasn’t a fan,” he spoke and nodded a bit.

“So it’s just— an embarrassing story really of how I realised I was bisexual-“ he spoke waving his hand. However something hit him. “Wait— why is this a problem?” He asks.

[militaryapple]

MY BEST FRIEND'S BROTHER IS THE ONE FOR ME .ᐟ

synopsis. mc leaves to go to the store and youre left alone with her wildly hot "brother". so what if you both get tipsy? whats the harm in that? its not like she liked him anyways.

cw. fem!reader, you & mc are bff's, virginity loss, cunillingus, oral ( fem recieving ), p in v creamie, pet names, unprotected (PLEASE BE PROTECTED OMG), praise like a lot of it, fingering, use of term "babygirl", biting, teasing (omg i need this man bad.)

add ons. this came to me in a dream. sum like that.

wc. 2.6k

sundays were the best. why? because you spent the entire day with her. your best friend in the entire world, and you meant that. you couldn't do anything without her, not like she'd let you anyway. you'd both had always been with each other. you guys were practically holding hands in the womb. which could probably explain the same brain wave you both share.. nonetheless it doesn't wipe away that Sundays were the best. hanging out with your best friend, playing games and well..

eyeing her super-hot unrelated related brother. okay, fine, you go over her dorm on Sundays to oogle her so-called "brother". what's the harm in that? it's not like you're acting on your feelings. it was just a small crush you've had.. since forever. it's also not like he noticed you anyways, he's always had his eyes set out for her. you don't loathe them for that. its how things have always been. its fine you don't mind, as long as you get to keep your friendship its fine.

a loud slapping noise snapped you back into reality as you look down at the table, the red uno card with a number 6 on it scattered down. fuck. pick up 3. you groan as you watched how happily she hummed. for a hunter, she knows how to play uno really well. you sigh in defeat as you set down the uno cards.

"whatever" you mumble softly. "you probably cheated anyways! hey, actually lets do a rematch! I can win!" you slammed your soda down on the table as she shook her head in disapproval. "nuh-uh! you said if I won 3 times in a row you'd do it!" she slammed her cup down in resilience. you really need to stop making bets you cant win. you fall back on the bed to resign. "fine! I'm not going to the store with you though. that shits like an hour away for one and two I do NOT want to hear you rub in my face on how you won."

she hummed in approval as she eyed you down. "I can take that over not winning any day. you might miss out on some really good in and out though" she said sweetly, you thought about it before huffing out "a slushy and small fry." was all she needed to hear before getting up, and right on cue, he came in. caleb looked down at her, then at you. his face widens in a grin. "what bet did you win today pip-squeak?" he said patting her head and chuckling. she pointed towards you and embarrassment washed in. next thing you know she had taken caleb's key and waved goodbye to the both of you.

knowing her it would take 2 hours to get from the store and back, she gets side tracked too easily. sometimes you worry for your best friend. caleb slumped down on the couch, turning on the tv as he looked at you before calling out. "hey, get over here. you and I both know it'll be a while until she comes back. plus.. she has my keys and car. can't go anywhere now." he scooted over patting next to him on the side of the couch.

you got up and moved next to him, scooting towards the other end of the couch as you both watched the agonizingly boring movie that played. sometimes you didn't get these one on one moments with him. compared with her, he's more quiet around you. sometimes with the occasional flirty friendly banter, he seemed.. more comfortable. you two have known each other for a long time, so it wouldn't hurt to just make a simple conversation with him right? with that thought you scooted closer to him.. then after a while a little closer.. then just pushing your luck just a tad bit closer.

caleb looked down at you, he let out a small laugh before holding his arm out and shifting his position, he pulled you closer now wrapping his arm around you while you leaned on him. you could smell the faint scent of musk, like a woody pine tree. it wasn't a bad smell. "you thought I wouldn't notice?" he said gently. he looked down at you in amusement. he enjoyed this, and it was good for you to know that thankfully you didn't step over any boundaries you thought you two had established.

you huffed as you looked away. "I was just making this more comfortable for us." you waved your hand in his face. "we're stuck together, right?" you hummed looking up at him. his face shifting from calm to surprised, and then smug.

you swore you could see a glint in his eye.

"okay, take a shot if you don't want to answer, or you can answer. there was more to the game but uh, that's more for parties." he said sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck. your face waved over with an emotion of shock, or was it amusement? whichever came into your mind first. "I didn't know mr. gentleman here was the party type. caleb we've been friends since we were kids, I want to play the actual game. not some remake you just made up." you snickered, your arms crossing as you leaned back on the couch, caleb sat across from you on the floor, yet he was still eye level with you.

"hey." he snapped back in a hurt tone, "Im not just a party guy. I only do it if you and her aren't here entertaining me or if you guys are done and I have some spare time. I cant always intrude on both of your adventures. and I still am a gentleman." he prided himself. it makes you think, how many times have you and your best friend left caleb while you both went on your little rendezvous? oh whatever, think later win now.

caleb started out first, he flipped the card over and handed It to you. you looked at it. you gave a quick glance at him before you read the card out loud. "okay, how many times have you got off this week.. and what to?" you said shyly, setting down the card gently. fuck that was a weird question. It's a drinking game but, jesus. caleb turned flushed, he coughed before looking away and pouring himself a shot.

"..."

that's okay, you wouldn't answer either, and skipping it would be more embarrassing, you picked up a card and slid it over to caleb. he almost choked. "are you sure-" he said in-between coughs, "you want to play this? I think I have the wrong deck-" he said quickly scrambling to grab the cards before you could stop him.

"its fine" you said happily "I want to play caleb, seriously." with that, he settled down, looking at the card you picked up once more and reading it out loud. "think of a person, and point out the feature you notice the most when you see them." he said, placing down the card. fuck.

you don't want to point out his obviously big dick that you look at everytime you see him, but you don't wanna get tipsy the first couple of rounds. you looked at your body and the clothes you had on, oh fuck it. lets go out with a bang. you slip off your black shirt, your pink bra flawlessly taking the spotlight. caleb couldn't help but stare at what seemed to be the prettiest bra in the entire world to him before he looked away. "great start." he mumbled.

caleb picked up a card and handed it to you, a grin forming on your face as you held the card, "biggest turn on?" you asked amused. staring at him as his face gave a wash of surprise, he let out a small chuckle. "ah, cliche to say pretty girls with pretty undergarments?" he said softly. your grin stiffening while you placed the card down. whatever, two can play that game.

you grabbed a card, moving in and leaning towards Caleb because all of a sudden he was just oh so far. handing him the card he could see just enough of your boobs, was that a part of your nip- no. Caleb shook it off as he looked at the card in his hand. "wildest sex dream you've had?" he asked, putting the card down and taking another shot. was it him or was the room warm?

you would tease him and say "my best friend's boyfriend and I on a couch fucking nastily" but you couldn't muster up the words. so instead you poured yourself a shot and down the hatch it went. you weren't a heavy drinker, and not much of a tolerance, which is why you chose to skip and strip instead of sink and drink. so much for not getting tipsy, let alone drunk.

he gulped, grabbing another card, before sliding it to you. he was nervous, had he ever been this nervous around you? like really really nervous? fuck fuck fuck. so many things were going through his mind. it was driving him nuts. you picked up the card and read it, snorting. "childhood crush?" oh. that was easy for him.

"you."

you looked up blinking, scanning his face for any sort of joke, any sort of shift to tell you "haha I'm joking" but there wasn't. he was serious. you grabbed the bottle of pink Whitney, downing as much as you could in a cup before setting it down. "you're fucking lying caleb. don't think I don't see how you look at her." you snapped at him, which only made him laugh. god you were cute.

"yeah," he nodded "but how do you think she'd feel if i was messing around with her best friend hm? how i think about you in ways I shouldn't, how I crave you." oh shit. he had a point. though you looked at your phone, you two still had some alone time. "caleb.." you whimpered softly.

"don't do that to me baby. please." he almost begged you. he got up moving to the couch and leaning over you. his eyes scanning over your body, then his gaze unwavering from your face. "I've always wanted you. ha, sometimes I go crazy thinking about how many guys have even attempted to touch you." his voice barely above a whisper. his breath tickling your face.

"caleb, please. I fucking need you."

the sounds of sloppy kisses and clothes unraveling filled the air, you both moving from the living room to your room. you knew this was bad, but all the guilt you felt seemed to be swept to the side. you could deal with the emotional luggage later, you didn't want it to ruin the perfectly good scenario playing out, the one you thought about ever since you were in high school.

caleb was gentle with you, his hands placed behind your back as he attempted to undo your bra, clearly lost, you took it off and held on to him. he was sweet but eager yet tender with you and patient.

"this is my first time," you say sheepishly. caleb's eyes lit up, a smile on his face while he planted a kiss on the crown of your forehead. "It's alright baby. It's my first time too, I'm especially happy because it's with you." his hands circled around your stomach before making its way down to your clit. he pressed softly against the fabric of your panties while you let out a small mewl.

you sounded better than he imagined. his fingers circling around your clit, and in response he got to hear your beautiful sounds. he was practically drunk off them. his fingers pushed over your panties, exposing your cunt. caleb got down. his hands spreading your legs wider as his lips pressed small kisses against your lower ones.

he was like a pro, his tongue hitting all of your spots as you grab his hair. the way the vibrations of his groans overstimulated you more and more. "you taste absolutely delicious. where has this pretty cunt been all my life?" he groaned, breaking away from your swollen cunt. he got up and leaned into you, bringing your head up.

"wanna know how you taste?"

he kissed you while undoing his pants. sweats dropping while he pushed you down the bed, bringing his cock out. and jesus was he huge. you pulled him down on the bed with you, pushing him against the wall as you sat up towards him. "'m gonna ride you, okay?" you dropped your head down, positioning yourself before selling down on his cock. he was huge, fuck did it hurt so good. caleb couldn't help but dip his head in the crook of your neck, grabbing your hips as he whined in approval.

"thaaats it babygirl. you got it, you're so sweet, just for me, yeah?" he praised you, planting soft kisses all over, his hands guiding your hips rocking you back and forth and around. you held on him as he held you still, his hips thrusting in and out of you at a steady pace. you were cock drunk.

his tip hit every spot, every curve, every corner and inner spot of yours. you were made for his dick. you couldn't help but praise him on how good he was hitting your sweet spots, "you flatter me baby" caleb moaned, biting down on his lower lip.

caleb collected your head pulling it back as he bit down on you, sucking you and licking you. leaving marks showing people that you were his. you were taken, and that would never change. in exchange, you dug your nails in him, and only you would know that they were there, that you were there to place them on him.

caleb flipped you over, pounding into you. one blow after the other. there was no stopping him as he rolled his head back in pure bliss. from this angle he could see all your pretty curves, how your back naturally arches for him. he had fucked you stupid.

caleb growled, "finish with me, please baby" he pleaded, "I wanna feel you cum over my cock again 'n again. you can do that right baby?" he coos. you could feel him reaching deeper in you, stretching you out as his balls slap against your abused cunt.

your body felt like it was on fire. electricity flowing through every vein as you shook your walls gummy and clamping down on him. you're shaking violently as Caleb can't help but get a last few thrusts in. you were squirting.

everywhere.

caleb pulls out and moves back, admiring you, like a piece of artwork. "messy girl" he clicked his tongue before scooping you up and fixing the pillows on your bed, lying you down on one side while he moved to other to lie right next to you. he was sweet. Caleb cuddled and coo'd you, telling you how much of a perfect girl you were, how good you took him and how beautiful you were.

he just stared at you, you looked at him before getting out a small laugh, "yes, I love you too caleb." you say sweetly and he was sure his heart skipped a beat. all he could give back was a smile, kissing the crown of your head.

it was a tender moment before you both were rudely awakened by the door slamming open and loud voice in the back. "what the fuck do you think you're doing?"

oh shit.

[tiredofthehumanlife]

Is he mine? Fucking obviously.

also btw I color code my titles I don't pick them like this for the aesthetics of it

Barbie dolls: Touya Todoroki x gn! reader

Word: 6.5k

Summary: Touya almost died on national television and disappears from from the public's eyes with no way to contact him you decide to keep your pregnancy a secret from him

Warning: You get pregnant! idc of its m!preg or abo or magic or just bareback fucking that got you there I'm just telling you you got pregnant, you keep the baby btw, your son is named Kaito (which according to name berry means sea so there), your son refers to you by Ren and Rena which is a gender neutral term for parent it's like mom and dad essentially, you fuck dabi at one point it's not smut it's just mentioned, Touya goes to rehab and so if he's ooc then it's rehabs fault not mine, I am kidding but he is definitely not exactly dabi core dykwim, you grieve Touya even tho technically he's alive it'll make sense when you read it but you cry a couple times just fyi, idk man, mentioned once that you wanted children before w Touya, 'crotch goblin' used I j feel like that's some shit dabi would say but I digress, Elmo reference tell me if you find it, possible allusions to Kaito being autistic but like boo fucking hoo idk, mention of blunts, SIDs mentioned once, also mentioned that you may or may not have anxiety especially over your son, yeah okay lmk if you any blue words I didn't do that on purpose

Before the war, you knew Dabi. You knew Touya, as well. When he was watching over you from the shadows during the day, he was Dabi. When he was buried in your arms hiding under your sheets, he was Touya. You kept him close to you, there wasn’t another way you’d like to live. You hated to say it but you needed his eyes and hands on you. You didn’t care what he did during the day or even at night as long as he wandered back to you through your door. You didn’t care if you both sat on the couch and stared at the TV or if you ripped his clothes off with greedy hands, as long as you could feel the abnormal heat of his body on yours. Maybe that made you morally questionable, you didn’t care. You knew who you were and you knew who he was. You knew your lungs would collapse if you couldn’t see those blue eyes again. 

After the war that all changed. Watching your lover almost kill himself on live television made you feel sick to your stomach. You had to leave the building entirely, only to find it broadcasted all over the screens of passersby’s phones, billboards, and the small television behind the counter of every convenience store. You hid under your sheets, hoping when you woke up they would smell like him because he was lying next to you. 

You heard of his whereabouts through coworkers' gossip, news articles, and murmurs from the public. None of whom knew you had kissed him goodbye the morning before, having no idea what was to come. You read every article you saw. You eavesdropped on every conversation. You bought every magazine that even slightly mentioned the Todoroki family. You knew the only way you’d know if he was okay was through the third-person retelling by a reporter. 

He was in severe recovery. He was in one piece, technically. His father was paying for his bills. He was likely to be alright. 

Really that’s all you needed, yet somehow it still wasn’t enough. You needed to see him and hold him. You wondered if he was eating solids or if he was on a tube. You wondered if he needed you to add another row of staples. You hated when he asked that of you, you couldn’t turn him down when he looked up at you with his pleading eyes. It made you feel sick to your stomach but you were the only one, besides himself, he trusted to do it. What you would give up now to groan and complain about having to replace his staples. 

Slowly as time pulled along, Touya made the news less and less. You took fewer magazines from their rack, his face didn’t make it to the television, and you felt his image slipping away from you. 

Your sheet smelled more like you than they did him. His clothes had been through the wash multiple times now. You kept tossing them into the dirty hamper straight from the dryer because you couldn’t bear to throw them away or hide them in a closet. Your stack of newspapers and magazines stayed stacked at the corner of your desk. You cried when you had to sweep up the dirt from his boots by the front door. Then you cried for crying over that.

You felt pathetic the way you started to hate him for all this. You wanted to slap him and jab your finger in his face. You wanted to call him a selfish bastard.  You cried in your kitchen when you realized you accidentally bought his favorite foods as second nature. You couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that he had just slipped from your life like that. 

He was alive, yes but alive in the same way a relative across the world was. You knew they were out there but it’d be a cold day in hell before they were in your living room. 

You slowly pieced yourself back together. His clothes were folded and put away on the shelf of your closet. You stopped looking at them when you started to get ready for the day as time went on. You stopped buying his food. You threw out most of the newspapers, only keeping the pages that really mattered. You folded them all up and shoved them into a drawer in your desk. You stop seeing him everywhere in your home. You stopped seeing him in your mind. 

Just as you were getting back on your feet, the world played a sick trick on you. You found out you were pregnant. After some thinking and a lot of it, you made your decision. You were keeping it. Yes sure it came out of nowhere. Yes sure your baby would be raised in a single-parent household. You always wanted this. You thought of asking Touya about it sometimes but you always chickened out. Now you wouldn’t be doing it with Touya, but you could have the life you wanted. A child. You were ready, you felt it in your bones. 

You had the baby. For months before the due date, you had scoured for name ideas. You wrote down names you heard over conversations in cafes. You read every article. You considered naming your baby after Touya. You scratched that idea after realizing you’d like to have his consent for that. You thought of him on your couch over seven months ago. He would’ve said ‘Hell no. Don’t name one of those crotch goblins after me.’ You bought books on the very subject. You slapped post-it notes to your fridge when you found one you liked. Yet all that came crashing down when you finally had your baby in your arms. 

You were fucking worn out. Your hands felt like they were going to cramp from all the squeezing you did to the handrails and your poor nurse. Your hair was sticking to your face. You felt like you stinked. Your lungs felt heavy and your ribs felt tight. With your little ‘crotch goblin’ in your arms you felt a smile grow on your face. 

His face was scrunched up in a cry, a tiny fist pressed against his cheek. You gently rubbed the side of his face with your finger, trying to calm him down. His cry settled as he pushed his face toward you. You whispered a hello. You were fully encapsulated by him, your son, you paid no attention to the doctor still between your legs. Your baby let out a coo as he opened his eyes, staring up at you.

You knew babies could really see at this age, he was probably just looking in the direction of your voice. Whether or not he could see you had no effect on the color of his eyes. You knew them. They were the same ones who would stare at you from across your room as you got ready for bed. The same ones that would plead you for new staples. The same ones that sat across from you during dinner. The same ones that reminded you of the cold and freezing sea. 

“Kaito.” You muttered, earning a coo from him. You nodded. “Yeah? Do you like that name?” he huffed and pushed his nose towards your arm. You hummed. “Kaito it is, then.” 

A year and a half went by before you ever heard from Touya again. You were doing some cleaning while Kaito was at daycare, hurrying so you could still have time for relaxation before you had to go pick him up.

You loved him dearly but a toddler was a lot to handle. Especially alone. You found a daycare nearby that you trusted, and your mental health picked up drastically. A few hours of silence on the weekends and time to work from home without a toddler trying to lick a socket was all that you seemed to need to feel whole. As you were throwing his toys back into the large basket on the other side of the living room, you heard a knock. You paused before throwing the toy truck. You moved to the front door, peeking through the peep hole. 

A woman with white hair and streaks of red, glasses, and a blue sweater was waiting at your door. You pulled away from the door, unlocking it and swinging it open. She smiled at you once she saw you. 

“Hi, can I help you?” You asked, smiling but feeling terribly awkward about the whole thing. She nodded. 

“Hi, I’m Fuyumi. My brother, Touya, was finally released from his mess of operations and hospitals. And he-“ Your smile fell when you finally registered the name. Yes, you heard it but you just didn’t think you’d ever hear that name again. It had just floated over your head. You realize this was his sister standing in front of you. You closed the door so you were squeezed between it and the frame, smiling like it was a perfectly normal thing to do. You couldn’t let her see the tiny rain boots, light-up sneakers, and brightly colored toys on your floor. Fuyumi glanced at you over the frame of her glasses, a slightly confused look passing over her face before she schooled it. She pulled her bag from her shoulder, rummaging her hand through it. 

“-is finally in rehab. They’re letting him have pencils now after strings being pulled by our father. Anyway, he-um- gave me these letters. He told me I needed to find you. He said he wouldn’t trust anyone else to give these to you. He considered our mom, but he said-“ 

“Letters?” You repeated, watching her hands as they dug through her bag. She nodded, looking up at you for a brief second. 

“Yes. here they are, finally.” She pulled a stack of three letters from her bag, sticking them out to you. You quickly took them from her, taking the top one. You shoved the other two into your back pocket, tearing open the envelope. You yanked the folded paper from the envelope, unfolding it as fast as possible. You skimmed over the words, trying to move your eyes along the lines faster than you could. 

‘Love -don’t care- I haven’t stopped thinking of you- wish you could come to see me-I need to see home- your bed- do you think of me-I’m not sure how much longer-I can’t add you to my visitation-I miss you.’ You paused, staring at his signature at the bottom. ‘Yours, Touya’ was simple but he didn’t talk of his feelings. Ever.

You were lucky if you found out he liked dinner. You traced over his name with the tip of your finger. You stopped, looking up at the woman in front of you. She was watching you intently like every move was being cataloged. You slowly straightened your shoulders up and pushed the letter back into the envelope like you didn’t care at all. You put the envelope with the other two in your pocket, pretending you weren’t itching to read the other two. You cleared your throat, staring at Fuyumi like a child caught misbehaving. 

“He tried to get your name on the visitation list but they wouldn’t allow it. You had to be family.” Fuyumi said, giving you a soft smile. You nodded, feeling Kaito’s finger painting on the fridge staring holes into the side of your face. 

“Might’ve been for the best. I don’t know I’m really the same person he…liked before.” You said, squeezing the door a little closer to you. Fuyumi shook her head. 

“I’m not sure if that’s true. He’s told our entire family about you. I don’t think the change would keep him from you. However, I don’t really know you, do I?” Fuyumi said, clasping her hands together in front of her. You nodded. It’s a bit weird knowing that she had a nephew a few blocks away and she didn’t even know if you and her brother were really dating at all. Well, you weren’t now but were you ever? You snorted and shrugged. 

“It’s a lot of change.” You said, watching her closely. She hummed, pulling her bag closer too pher. 

“Well I have to go, I have lunch with Shoto soon. Just, think of sending him back a letter. I think it would be good for him to hear from you.” Fuyumi said before walking away from your door and heading for the sidewalk. You watched her go for a moment, feeling stuck in your place. You felt like you were watching Touya walking away again. You sighed before going back inside to finish reading the letters. 

You read the letters over and over again for a month. You read them so much you didn’t need to see the paper to think through his words. You spent your free time staring at the handwriting. You dissected the word choice, punctuation, and tone. You need to know every thought that went through his head. Kaito asked you what they were, in the words and format of a 1 ½-year-old would. You redirected him to his toys and started reading them only at night when you were alone in your room. You sat up in bed most nights, staring at his clothes on the shelf of your closet and picking at your nails. 

You thought through your two options. 

You could break his heart and tell him you couldn’t be with him. You had changed, you were someone new. You couldn’t see a future. You moved on. You had a new partner, one that didn’t have their face on the news. Whatever it would take to get him to move on. He needed someone else, someone not like you. Someone without a kid. 

Your second option was to tell him. Everything. He had already been through what a year or so of medical operations? That’s what Fuyumi said, wasn’t it? Now he was stuck in rehab, they just gave him access to pencils. He was slowly rebuilding himself. He was obviously making progress in the right direction, communicating. That was a big word for Touya. It was over paper but still. He used the word love eight times in those letters. Kaito would have to get adjusted to his family growing up. Change is hard for young children. Change is hard for you. You‘d be forcing this responsibility onto Touya. He’d either support Kaito or not. Either way, he’d have that thought in the back of his mind. Touya was barely standing on his own two feet right now. Most likely figuratively and literally. You couldn’t add a new stressor to his life. He’d throw a table or something and get his pencil rights taken away again. 

You made the mature decision to break his heart instead. You wrote it out carefully and edited it. You made sure it came off the right way. You sealed the envelope and addressed it using the information from the back of his letters. Maybe it wasn’t something that would make you liked by any of the Todoroki family, but it was better for them. You knew it. You told him it was the change. You had changed too much. You listed all the ways you weren’t the person he thought you were anymore. Of course, you jumped over the child-sized elephant in the room. 

You couldn’t bear to think of him crying over your letter. You wondered if his tears were still bloody. Most likely, that didn’t seem like something that was healable. You ignored the ache in your heart, pulling your son closer to you in a tight hug. You couldn’t think of Touya stuck in a sterile rehabilitation center. You couldn’t think of him reading your letter more than once. You couldn’t think of Touya at all, so you focused on Kaito instead. 

You didn’t get a letter back. You didn’t get any of his siblings at your door. Instead, you took Kaito to daycare, worked, took Kaito home, and went to bed ready to repeat. You and Kaito went on little adventures on the weekends, going to the park, play dates, swimming lessons, zoos, and museums. You couldn’t love your son and life more.

He was getting bigger. He was developing his own personality now, such a sweet boy he gave you cavities. Kaito was so bright. He was the smartest kid you knew and you weren’t biased at all in saying that. He was so beautiful and tiny. You wanted to wrap him up in a blanket and keep him in your pocket forever. Some days he would run through the living room like a plane and all you could remember was when he fit in the crook of your arm. He was so curious he asked you about the world every day. Some days he came home from daycare with a fun fact you never knew. 

The day he manifested his quirk was on the weekend in the backyard. You were on the back porch, watching him run back and forth through the oscillating sprinkler. You sipped your tea slowly, easing your anxiety about him slipping.

Kaito flung his hero doll through the water. It thunked in the grass, face first. Kaito yelled that he was coming to save the hero. He pressed his wrists together, jutting his hands out like a stream of power would rush through them. He jumped up, pushing his hands out again and giving himself a sound effect.

As he passed through the water you saw sparks and flames envelop his hands and fly straight to the ground toasting the ground next to his doll to ash. Kaito landed in the burnt grass, freezing and staring down at his hands. You jolted up onto your feet, setting your tea down and rushing towards him. 

Kaito slowly turned around towards you, a scared look on his face. You scooped him up, wrapping him in a hug. Kaito pressed his nose into your shoulder, holding onto your neck tightly. It’s a bit scary to see fire shoot out of your hands as a three-year-old. You stared at the ring of burnt grass, thinking back on the fire around his fingertips.

It wasn’t blue like his father’s, it was red like a campfire. A part of you was happy, he wouldn’t have to struggle to control a quirk as hot as his father’s. Another part of you was sad, you kinda liked the idea of your son growing up to be a hero and showing the world his blue flame was still hero material. Maybe Touya could find it out that way. You didn’t even know if Kaito wanted to be a hero. Maybe he’d do something simple. A third part was scared, fire is easily destructive. Kaito was new to it, he didn’t know how to control it. Your house could be in ashes in days. 

Touya would’ve been worried if he had been on the porch with you. Hellfire, like his father. Like the father he tried so hard to destroy and landed himself in the hospital and rehab. What made his father like that? A father like Enji fathering Enji? That’s how it works isn’t it, like passing sand from hands to hands, the trauma follows you in a terrible circle. 

Well, your son would have less sand, he’d love who he is. You pulled Kaito away from your neck, leaning your head back to get a full look at his face. His eyes were glistening and he was pressing his fist to his cheek. The image of him as a newborn in your arms passed over you. You wiped at the tears on his cheeks, kissing them afterward. 

“You got your quirk, Kaito. Isn’t that so exciting?” You said, smiling widely to settle his anxiety. Kaito pulled his hands from his face, looking at you confused. You bounced him on your hip and started spinning around, squealing about his quirk. You rested your hands on his back, dipping him down so he hung upside down just a little. You passed his head through the sprinkler, making him laugh loudly. You pulled him back up, dancing away from the sprinkler and the burnt grass. Kaito shook his wet white mop of hair out, drizzling you with water. 

Two and half years pass before Kaito starts school. He’s settled into the routine. He knows the time you give him breakfast, the time he gets dressed, the time he brushes his teeth, and the time you leave. Kaito would rather burn all his toys than be late for school. He’s made plenty of friends there. He’s already been invited to two birthday parties in the few months he’s been there. You wonder if daycare was that beneficial to him. 

Kaito walks his clean plate to the sink, standing on his tiptoes to gently set it in the bottom. You praise him before finishing your own. Kaito heads towards his room, ignoring your words entirely. Every morning he was on a mission to get to school at exactly the right time. Once he tried to get you to force him to go to school while he was sick. He whined about his perfect attendance before you told him he could watch TV. He dropped the subject after that. A knock sounds at your door. You look over your shoulder before concluding it was the mail. Sometimes they needed your signature. 

“Kaito, you better not forget your jacket! It's cold out!” You shouted so he could hear you through his door. You stared at his face peeking through his door as you swung open the front door. You pointed at him sternly, earning an eye roll. Damn you, Touya. You turned to face the mailman, face falling at the man in front of you. 

His hair had grown out and the dye had long been gone. Touya’s scars looked… healthier. Healed a little, paler and a little more moisturized. His staples were removed. You assumed they had been replaced with stitches that had healed over a million moons ago. Half his piercings were gone, a stud in his nose and two in each ear were all that he had left. Or at least was wearing today. His clothes were more put together, relaxed but not in the scrambled way they were a few years ago. Touya stood bolder now like he found something inside himself during rehab that made his chest puff out. His eyes were all the same. You thought if you ever saw him again, you'd only see Kaito in his eyes. You only saw Touya. 

“I finished rehab.�� Touya finally said. Your silence stood in the air, like a confession of everything. You realized he could see into your home, slowly moving towards the door frame and holding the door tightly against you. Touya watched you with a look you'd only seen once before. In the middle of the night in your dimly lit living room, a movie in the background as the two of you kissed for the first time without sexual intent behind it. 

“Evidently. You look good by the way, rounded, healthy. Um, what exactly are you doing here, though?” You asked, leaning back inside to look at the clock. Three minutes before Kaito left his room. Five if he was having wardrobe malfunctions. You leaned forward again, pretending you weren't on a time crunch. 

“I know you sent me a letter. I know you said you didn't think I'd still care for you because you've changed so much but I think it's pretty obvious I've changed too. I just wanted to ask if you could give us a second shot we could try again as the new versions of ourselves. Every day I was in there I've been thinking about you. I haven't been able to-” You leaned back again, one minute, three with malfunctions. You put your attention back on Touya, nodding to signify him to continue. He paused, pulling his hand from his coat pocket. “-Am I interrupting something?” He asked. 

You froze, dragging your eyes away from the clock. You met Touya's eyes, staring at him with wide eyes. You weren't getting out of this, you wouldn't be able to. You sighed, pinching your brow. 

“No, I'm sorry Touya. It's very sweet and genuine of you to ask this but I really think there's just a big-” you waved your hands between the two of you. “-hurdle between us that we'd have to get through. I just think you should find someone else to love and cherish or whatever it is people say.” You threw your hands down, looking at his face again. He looked cold, he looked like the man who would show up at your door almost six years ago with blood staining his clothes. Touya shook his head, a new look meeting his features. He furrowed his brows. He stared at the step in front of him. 

“I just don't understand. I feel like this came out of nowhere before the letters, everything was fine, and then all of a sudden you were too different-” Touya said. Your heart dropped to your stomach when you heard Kaito’s door open. 

“Rena! Can you help me button my pants? The button is hard.” You could hear the pout in Kaito's voice. It reached Touya’s ears. You know it did. He froze, eyes glued to the ground. You didn’t bother trying to hide the wreck of a child’s home behind you anymore. The cat was out of the bag. You kicked the front door back, revealing all the toys and children’s books thrown across your living room. Kaito ran up to you, holding his pants up with both hands. You squatted down, pulling his pants together. As you slipped the button through the hole, Kaito greeted Touya. 

“Hi! I’m Kaito. Do you have a quirk?” Ever the extrovert, Kaito wanted to be friends with everyone he met. You zipped Kaito’s pants up. You turned back, pulling his sneakers from the shoe rack. You might as well while you’re already on the floor. You glanced up at Touya to see him staring open-mouthed at Kaito. Kaito was unaccustomed with this reaction, gripping onto your shoulder. 

“Touya. My son asked you a question.” You said, pulling Touya from the depths of his mind. Touya dropped down to his knees, getting on eye level with Kaito. You pulled Kaito’s sneakers on, tying the laces and pulling over the Velcro strap. Usually, he put his own shoes on but with the new friend, you thought you should do it. 

“Hi. My name is Touya. Yes, I do have a quirk.” Touya responded slowly. Kaito was his, there was no way Touya hadn't realized that. It wasn’t frequent that you ran into someone with those eyes, that hair, and that smile.

You looked at Touya as you pulled Kaito’s other shoe on. Touya moved his focus from Kaito to you. His mouth was still a little agape, staring at Kaito with eyes that only you could understand. Kaito squealed, he loved showing off his quirk. You pulled back, leaning away from him, watching his hands. A whoosh came with the balls of fire enveloping his hands. Sparks flew around the edges. He grinned down at his ablaze hands like a crazy person. You smiled at his excitement, looking over to Touya. He stared at Kaito’s hands, face unreadable. 

“Okay, Kaito. That’s enough. No quirk in the house, you know that.” You said, wafting his hands with air. It never put the flame out but it made Kaito laugh. He put his fire down, a few disgruntled sparks flying after. After an unfortunate incident involving your arm and his quirk, you both learned that Kaito needed a few minutes to cool off before he touched something again. The scar was still on your upper arm, a tiny handprint the size of a three-year-old. You didn’t mind it as much as you thought it would. It only reminded you of your son. 

“Hands up.” Kaito held his arms above his head as you pulled on his laces. You looked at Touya as you tied them. Touya leaned forward and held his hand up, all fingers down except for his pinkie. Almost like a pinkie promise. You and Kaito both stared at his hand as his pinkie caught aflame. It looked like a little blue birthday candle. Kaito’s eyes lit up like his hands, a giant grin pulling at his cherub cheeks.

”Woah! Do you have fire too? It’s blue! That’s so cool!” Kaito said, his little hand reaching out for Touya’s. Touya and you both moved faster than light. Touya shot his hand away, the fire extinguishing, and his arm held far away from curious hands. You pushed Kaito’s hand away, sending it back to his side. Kaito looked confused, facing you. 

“His fire is very very hot, Kaito. It’ll hurt if you touch it.” You explained, pulling the Velcro strap of his shoe over the top of his foot. Kaito hummed, fiddling with his hands over his stomach. You stood up, Touya following. Kaito looked over your shoulder at the clock and then down at the graph you had under it with a picture of the hands and what step in your routine it meant. Kaito gasped, rushing away from you for his bedroom. You smiled awkwardly towards Touya. 

“Is he mine?” Touya whispered, his tone unsure if he was ready for the answer. You watched Kaito pull his jacket on before slinging his backpack on. His coat was just a little too big for him. It kissed the tips of his knees and every time you saw it you thought of Touya and his jacket hanging on your coat rack. 

“Yeah, he's yours.” you wanted it to come out with strong conviction.

‘Yes, Touya he's yours what are you going to do about it.’

‘No Touya he's mine but he's genetically related to you, yes.’

‘What do you want from this information, Touya'?

‘Get off my property Touya. Kaito isn't your problem’

All those months you spent planning how you'd beat him to pulp when you finally saw him again fell apart the second you looked into his eyes. Maybe that was Kaito's effect on you or maybe it was just the effect Touya always had on you. 

Touya nodded like he was accepting his fate, watching Kaito run up to you with your shoes. Usually, you didn't have your baby daddy standing on your front porch and you could get your own shoes. You pulled your shoes on quickly, keeping an eye on Kaito as he ran out the door towards the car. 

“Why didn't you tell me?” Touya asked, following after you as you locked your door and joined Kaito at the side of the car. 

“Not right now, I have to get Kaito to school so he can keep his perfect attendance.” You said, reaching over to pinch Kaito's cheek. He groaned and pushed you away, throwing his backpack into the backseat. Kaito pulled himself into his booster seat and buckled his seatbelt. You smiled at him, pecking his cheek and muttering praises to him.

Touya stood behind you, watching the whole ordeal and wishing he hadn't lost the first five years of his son's life. He didn't get to watch Kaito grow from a carrier that locked into the base to a car seat with a back to a booster seat. He didn't even know Kaito's favorite color. He didn't know anything about him. So with all that stirring in his mind, he whispered the one full sentence he could piece together. 

“Can I come too?” You pulled away from Kaito, looking back at Touya. He looked scolded. His shoulders were slumped and he was clasping his hands together at his stomach. He stared at you with wide eyes. You remembered when you grounded Kaito for trying to sneak out of the house at night. He wanted to go to the park, you had to explain that the park was something you visited during the day. He was sad at being grounded. 

“Yes! Rena, can he come? He can tell me at his fire! And his scars, they're so cool!” Kaito kicked his feet, thumping them against the back of the passenger seat. Your heart stalled at the mention of Touya's scars. 

“Kaito. Don't say-” you scolded only to pause when a warm hand rested on your shoulder. You had forgotten how warm Touya was. You missed not needing to pull your space heater from storage. You stared at Touya, eyes wild with concern. He shook his head, lips pressed in a tight line. 

“It's fine.” He muttered. You looked back over to Kaito who looked more than joyous to bring his new friend to school. You sighed, shrugging and moving for the front seat. 

“Get in.” You said, sliding into the driver's side. Touya quickly shut Kaito's door and slid in on the other side of the back seat. 

The entire drive you felt strange. You didn't like having your back to their interaction. A part of you worried Touya was teaching Kaito how to roll a blunt. Or maybe how to set your fire in your sleep. Maybe he was still bitter from the letter and all this was an act. 

The moment Kaito laughed so hard he started wheezing you took back all the negative thoughts you had about Touya. Kaito leaned over into Touya's lap, patting his leg as he wheezed. Touya chuckled with him, a relaxed smile on his face. He gently patted Kaito's back, turning his pat into a rub. Kaito sucked in a gasp of air before it quickly danced behind his teeth and transformed into another laugh. Touya panicked, a new worry that he was doing this all wrong, already turning into his father. His eyes shot to yours in the rearview mirror. You didn't catch them, focused on the road. He saw your smile and small laugh and felt his shoulders relax. 

Kaito had a hard time saying goodbye to his new friend in the school parking lot. Kaito complained and quickly latched onto Touya's arm, pressing his cheek into his scarred flesh. Touya patted his mop of white hair and wished him a good day. Kaito seemed to accept that, launching himself into the front seat to hug you goodbye with his arms around your neck. Kaito glanced over at the clock on the screen in the center of the dashboard. He muttered something and rushed out of the car, jogging towards the crosswalk. You and Touya watched as he was walked to the door by one of his teachers. 

You both sat in silence and stare at the door even after Kaito is long gone. Touya left the back seat and plopped himself into the passenger side next to you. You wanted to pull yourself out of your head and face him, but your eyes were glued to the door. 

It's been a long time since he was a baby. The first few months were hell on Earth. Everything sent you into an anxious spiral, his breaths were one second too long apart. You worried he was getting too much tummy time. You worried he wasn't getting enough tummy time. You worried about his diet. You worried about the sound of his cries. You worried about his number of cries. You worried about the cradle cap. You worried about SIDs. You worried sick over your son. 

To make matters worse, you worried sick over his father. The first year and then some you wracked your brain thinking about him. Where was he? What was he doing? How was he feeling? What state was his body in? Could he still feel? What was he feeling about you? Had he already moved on, found a cute doctor, or something? Was he too far gone and close to death that he didn't even have the time to consider things like that? Why hadn't he said something to you yet? Would he even like you still? Would he even like your son? Would he even want to know if he has a son or would ignorance be bliss for him?

“He is so…” Touya's voice fell like he wasn't sure the word to choose. You knew how the man from five years ago would respond. 

By the time you had finally settled your anxieties over your son's father, Kaito taking up all your capacity for worries, his letter arrived at your door.

You stared at the door to his school, the brightly painted sidewalk making you feel warm. Touya was next to you now, staring at the same school. You knew where he was, what he looked like, the state of his body, his thoughts on you, and what he was doing. You could hear his breathing in your silent car. You knew it all and yet, you still worried for him. You wanted him to touch you again. His hand on your shoulder sparked something that went dormant after five years. 

Annoying. 

Gross. 

Snotty. 

Clingy. 

Sticky. 

“beautiful.” Touya finished. You felt the air in your car slip out the window. You dragged your eyes from the school door, looking at him. He wasn't looking at you, staring at the school. You furrowed your eyebrows. That word you had not expected at all. You thought you'd have to drive Touya home in silence and fully cut contact this time. 

Have you had him tested yet? for anything because that child is just- 

“What?” you said, staring at the side of his face. Touya looked at you, finally meeting your eyes. Your shoulders sank. He unfortunately always had this affect on you. 

“Your son is so beautiful. He’s just like you. I look at him and all I see is you. Kaito is just…” His eyes traveled back to the door Kaito had disappeared through. You wouldn't see him again for a good six hours. 

“I can't explain it but he's just so perfect. I just don't understand how such a sweet person could have anything to do with me. Which is how I felt about you all those years ago. He is a carbon copy of you, you know that?” Touya said, a small smile playing on his lips. He sighed and stared at you, watching your face. 

“He is beautiful.” You paused, keeping your eyes on Touya. You stared at Kaito some nights when he was asleep in your bed from a nightmare and only saw a chubbier and less scarred version of Touya's face staring at you. 

“He looks like you,” you muttered, starting your car again. Touya sat back in the passenger seat, pulling the seat belt down.

“I have photo albums at home. Would you like to see?” you asked as you pulled out the school driveway back towards your home. Touya rubbed at his face. He quickly nodded. 

“Yes, I would,” Touya whispered, looking out the window. 

[peepawispunk]

Direct From Renaldo

Pairing: Renaldo (SNL) x you (f)

Summary: You're only at this wedding with your soon-to- be ex out of pity. When he gets handsy with the bride, you get even with the bartender.

Words: 4.3K

Rating: Explicit

Warnings/tags: smut, cunnilingus, unsafe sex (don't be like them, this is fiction), pussy and penis pronouns, creampie, drinking, a little bit of ass play, Renaldo is a consent king 👑

My masterlist My AO3

The handsome bartender had been eyeing you off all night. The only excitement of the evening, really. You were at a wedding with your boyfriend - his ex’s wedding. You hadn’t wanted to come, didn’t even really want to be with your boyfriend anymore, but you hadn’t felt right about breaking up with him and leaving him dateless for this.

You were considering this wedding date as an act of mercy. Your last outing together before you dumped him next week. You needed someone you could see yourself with long term, and there was no future with someone who was still this hung up on their high school girlfriend. Honestly, it was more than he deserved, you coming here with him. 

It became evident to you as the night wore on that he was more than just hung up on his ex. Shared smiles and fleeting touches had been sparking between them all night, and you would have been devastated if you weren’t already one-foot out of the relationship. As it was, though, you couldn’t let this shit slide. Another look passed between them, and you decided enough was enough. 

Were you gonna cause a scene at this stranger’s wedding? 

No. 

What you were gonna do though, was fuck the bartender. Hopefully, anyway.

You slunk away before your ex - because that’s what he was now, whether he knew it or not - realised you were gone, crossing the ballroom to the bar. The dance floor was lit up, full of people dancing to a song you recognised as a popular 80s hit, leaving the bar mostly abandoned. 

You slipped onto the barstool closest to where the sexy bartender was working, watching as he shook a martini. You admired the strength in his hands as he prepared and poured the drink, imagining those hands on your thighs, pinning you down as he ate you out.

He was older, probably in his mid forties, with wavy hair. He was wearing a plain gold chain around his neck, but no wedding ring. 

The last guest waiting for a drink finally left with a beer, and then the sexy bartender turned towards you.

“What can I get you?” His voice was smooth and slightly flirty as he came to stand in front of you, resting his hands on the counter to lean closer to you to hear you better.

“I was wondering if you could help me find the coat closet?” You asked him. Your tone was just suggestive enough to make it clear that directions weren't what you were asking for at all.

“The coat closet, huh?” The stranger smirked, his eyes flickering to your chest and then your mouth. You licked your lips, and his jaw clenched, his left eyebrow ticking up minutely. “Do you want directions, or do you want me to show you the way?” 

“If you could show me the way, that would be amazing.” You truly look at him now, taking in the grey flecked stubble on his jaw, the strong, corded lines of his neck, and the collarbone that peeked out at you from underneath the black polo shirt he wore, the top buttons left undone. The chain, glimmering against his skin under the party lights overhead.

His eyes darkened, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “Yeah, I reckon I can do that. Santiago, watch the bar for me. I’m going on my break.” He told the younger man working with him, rounding the bar to join you. 

You introduced yourself as he rested his hand on your lower back, guiding you out of the ballroom and into the hallway of the hotel’s conference floor, backing you into a little alcove just past the open door.

“I’m Renaldo.” He said, taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “So where are we going, bonita?” 

“To the coat room?” You said, confused. You thought he knew what you'd been getting at.

“This hotel doesn’t have a coat room, bonita.” He smirked, still holding onto your hand. He pressed a kiss higher, almost to your wrist, stepping close to you. 

“It doesn’t?” Your breath caught as his lips brushed against you again.

“Nope.” 

“Is there anywhere private we can go?”

“Now you’re talking.” Reynaldo leered up at you. “You wanna hook up?”

“I thought we both knew that's what this was?”

“I like to be clear, sweetheart. Would you like to get a room?” He kissed higher up your arm, whiskery stubble tickling your inner elbow. 

“I really would, but I left my purse in my boy-well, my ex-boyfriend’s room. I don’t have a key.”

He didn’t even pause. “You in a relationship, nena?” He kissed up your shoulder now.

“Not anymore. You see the bride flirting with a guy who isn’t the groom tonight?”

He grimaced. “I did.”

“Yeah, that’s the guy. I was gonna break up with him anyway.”

He shrugged. “Okay. Let’s go find a room.”

“I don’t have any money.”

“Don’t need it. I’ll grab us a key.” He winked. “But first…” 

He cupped your face, leaning in to kiss you. It was a teasing hint of things to come, lips and just the barest hint of tongue. 

It was enough to feel a spark between you. And enough to know that if this guy fucked half as good as he kissed, you were in for a good time tonight. 

A few minutes later found you and Renaldo in the elevator, a pilfered room key in his tattooed hand. Perks of working at the hotel, he'd explained. He’d also stolen a bottle of champagne for you both to share, from the “make the guests happy” stash in the storage room behind the front desk.

You were acutely aware of how close he was standing to you as the elevator made its way up to the 5th floor. Could feel the heat radiating off him as he took your hand, leading you out of the elevator and down the hallway. 

He unlocked the room, holding the door open and letting you go inside first. Then, he hung the “Do Not Disturb” sign on the lever, giving you a wink. “Just in case.” He said, locking the door and dropping the key on the floor and following you further into the room.

“Drink?” He asked, lifting the champagne bottle. 

“Sure.” You said, sitting on the counter of the small kitchenette. “I don’t need a glass, if you don’t.”

“Is that so, nena?” He said, opening the bottle, thumbing the cork out with a ‘pop’. “I thought you didn’t like to share?” 

You laughed at the jab about your ex boyfriend. “I was about to dump him anyway.” 

“Let’s drink to that then.” He said, taking a swig of champagne before passing you the bottle. 

You sipped at the pricy bottle of champagne, wondering what made it so different from the cheap ones you liked. 

Renaldo's dark eyes watched you, taking in the image of you sitting on the counter. You passed the champagne back and forth a few times, draining half of the bottle as you made small talk and discussed contraception. He admitted he didn't have a condom, but said he could go and track one down, but that he was tested regularly and was clean. 

You were too, and had always used condoms with your ex. You had an IUD, too. 

Fuck it. 

“Don't worry about the condom.” You decided.

“Hell yeah.” He said, taking another mouthful of champagne, passing the bottle to you.  

You took a large sip, then set the bottle down on the counter, gesturing for him to step in between your legs. He followed your lead, coming to stand between your thighs, your legs bracketing his hips. Terms of engagement now agreed upon, you were ready to feel this man against you. 

His hands settled on your waist, large and warm your back as he pulled you towards him, pressing his lips to yours. His lips were soft against yours, his shoulders broad and strong as you gripped them for balance, deepening the kiss. He hummed into your mouth, tilting his head, his strong nose brushing against yours as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. 

The kiss was slow and sensual, and surprisingly intimate considering this man was a stranger to you. He was a phenomenal kisser, knowing just the right amount of tongue, the right amount to give and tease before backing off and making you work for more. 

Your ex’s kisses were overwhelming and inept. Fumbling and hesitant. Renaldo was the complete opposite. Confident, practiced, competent. You were already incredibly turned on, and all he’d done so far was kiss you. 

“That ex of yours didn’t take care of you, did he?”

“Not really, no.”

“Well no wonder you were getting rid of him. Did he even eat pussy?”

“He…tried?” 

“Jesus.” He muttered, shaking his head. “Young men these days. When’s the last time you had someone who knows what they’re doing, bonita?” 

“It’s been a while.” You frowned. Actually, it had been a really fucking long time.

He brought his hands to your face, cupping your jaw. Both of his thumbs rubbed at your frown, coaxing your lips upwards into a smile as you giggled at the gesture. 

“There, that’s more like it. Pretty girl like you should be getting all the pleasure she wants. Don’t worry, I’ll fix it.” He kissed you deeply again, pressing his bulge into you and groaning at the friction as you rolled your hips in retaliation.

“Fix it, huh? What’re you planning?” 

“Well,” he said, offering you a hand to help you down from the counter. “I was thinking about stripping you naked, pressing those thighs open against the mattress and eating that pretty little cunt until you forget that boy’s name. Then…” he reached down to grab at his bulge through his work pants and jerked it once, twice. “Then I’ll give you this dick til you forget your name.” 

“That’s a good fucking plan.” You said, knees weakening as his words sunk in. 

He guided you to the bed, helping you out of your dress before stripping quickly as you shuffled onto the bed. You watched him strip, eyes drawn to his impressive arms. His broad shoulders and narrow waist was driving you wild, but what really ruined you was his cock. It hung thick, long and proud between his legs, and he wasn’t even fully hard yet. 

You bit your lip in admiration.

He crawled onto the mattress, bringing the length of his body to hover over you, chain dangling from his neck, swinging gently above you, caressing your chest as he settled in, chest resting against yours. He kissed you again, coaxing your mouth open with lips and tongue, kissing you passionately. His cock brushed against your slit as he did, and you both groaned, hips seeking each other out again automatically.

“It’s diabolical how gorgeous you are beneath me, bonita.” He kissed down your neck, nose dragging a line down to your collarbone. He inhaled deeply at your pulse point. “You smell so fucking good, nena. Like expensive perfume and cunt.” He inhaled again, a small, pleased sound falling from his mouth.

“I smell like cunt?” You weren’t sure that was a compliment.

“Believe me, bonita, that’s a good thing. Your sweet cunt smells amazing. I need a taste.” His low voice rumbled in your ear, giving you goosebumps. He chuckled softly at your reaction, still on his path down your body. His stubble scraped deliciously over your tits as he kissed and nuzzled them, before his strong tongue sucked your nipple into his mouth, the pressure of his sucks almost bruising and making you gasp and moan, threading a hand in his hair. 

“Renaldo! Fuck, that feels...” You gasped, gripping at his curly hair. 

He grinned against your skin, kissing his way down to your pubic bone. 

“Do you want my mouth, baby?” He asked, hands coming to rest on your thighs. You nodded, and he made a pleased sound,  pushing your legs to either side, making room for his wide shoulders to fit between them. The weight of his hands turned into a firm grip, holding you to the mattress as he pressed his nose to your seam, using the tip to part your folds, inhaling deeply.

“Mmm, like I said. Smells amazing.” His tongue came out to dart in the gap made by his nose, licking the same trail his nose had just followed. “Tastes amazing too.” 

He spent the next few minutes kissing, licking and sucking everywhere but where you really wanted him to, and eventually you cracked and begged for more. 

“Please, Renaldo!” You felt desperate, needed him to stop teasing you. 

“You give up quick, bonita, begging for it already.” His lips quirked up, the expression bringing out the dimple in his cheek. “I suppose it has been a while, hasn’t it?” He said sympathetically. “I’ll stop teasing.” 

Before you could respond, he was eating your pussy with fervor, tongue rolling and flicking against your clit. A desperate, keening noise burned up your throat, your fists gripping at the sheets so you didn’t pull his hair. 

He pulled back, tutting and reaching for your hands. “No, nena. If you need to hold onto something while I eat this pretty cunt, you hold onto me.” He ordered lowly, bringing your hands to his hair. 

“What if I pull your hair?”

“Then I’m doing it right.” 

He brought his mouth to you again, working you until your breath caught. One of his hands released your leg, skimming down your leg to touch your cunt. He traced your lips, feather light touch making you squirm and beg him to stop teasing you again. 

“Please, Renaldo! I need something inside me.”

He clicked his tongue. “Poor girl, needs something to come around, huh?” He slipped two fingers inside you, curling and pressing with purpose and making you whine. “Don’t worry pobrecita, I’ll make you come around my fingers and then you can do it on my cock.” 

His tongue launched a focused assault on your clit as his fingers pressed that spot inside of you, making your legs shake as your orgasm fast approached. Your hands tightened in his hair, making him growl in approval.

“Fuuuuckkkk, Renaldo, right there, ohmygod, please-” Your voice gave out on you as the sensations crescendoed, your orgasm hitting you with a gut-punching intensity. 

His mouth worked you through the waves of your orgasm, slowing but not stopping until you gently nudged his head away.

“You sound pretty screaming my name, nena.” He said, wiping his face on the sheet before kissing his way back up to your mouth. “Can I kiss you?” 

You’d never had a guy ask that after eating you out before. It was nice to be asked, even though it didn’t bother you. 

His breath tickled your face, and in lieu of a verbal answer, you used the hand still fisted in his hair to pull him to your mouth. 

Even though you’d just come, the feeling of him settling on top of you, the pleasing weight of him pressing you into the mattress, made you desperate to feel him inside you. 

“Need you to fuck me.” You begged, dragging your teeth down his earlobe, tugging on it gently.

“Ok, nena, roll over for me.” He moved, letting you roll onto your stomach. He shifted onto his knees, planting his legs on either side of yours. His hands came to rest on your ass, giving it a squeeze and a slap. “Look at the bounce of that ass.” He let out a pleased growl, slapping it again, a little harder, then squeezed it. “Fuckin perfect.” 

His fingers dug into your ass cheeks, parting them to get a peek at your pussy. You heard him make a pleased hum, then the wet sensation of his spit hit your puckered hole and dripped down to your cunt. 

“Can I play with your asshole a little, bonita?” His thumbs drew circles on your ass as he waited for a response, teasing close to your puckered hole.

You considered it for a second.

“I’ve never-”

“That’s okay, bonita. Forget I asked.” He said, fingers dipping down to stroke your clit, drawing slippery circles on your cunt. 

“Maybe next time?” You offered - now that he’s put the thought in your head, it was starting to sound kind of intriguing. 

“Hmm, I like the sound of a next time.” He said, taking himself in-hand. “Are you ready for my cock, nena?” 

“So ready,” you pressed back against him. “C’mon.” You urged.

“Shhh, it’s coming, pobrecita.” He soothed, pressing the tip to your spit-covered cunt. “Relax for me. He’s a big boy.” 

That line would have felt sleazy to you if this man wasn’t otherworldly levels of hot. Instead, your cunt was weeping, aching to pull him in.

He notched himself properly inside you, just far enough that he could let go of his cock and lower himself onto his forearms, resting on top of your prone form. His voice was low and close to your ear, his whole body blanketing yours as he pushed inside of you.

“Feel so fucking good around my cock, baby. Letting me in so well. Letting me fuck you raw.” 

“A dick like that is too pretty to cover up.” 

“Hmm, you think my dick is pretty?”

“Yeah, pretty fucking huge.”

He huffed a breathy, amused noise next to your ear. “Yeah, he's a big boy. Gonna show you how I use him now.”

You would have cringed at that line too, but then he started moving and all higher thought ceased. The slow drag of his thrusts stoked a low fire in your belly as he nudged your g spot and cervix alternately. Prone as you were underneath him, you could barely move. You tried to gain some leverage with your toes, pushing yourself forward a little bit so you could push back against him as he rocked back into you.

“You need it harder, nena?” He pressed a hot, sucking kiss to your neck.

You nodded.

“Words, baby. Say it for me.”

“Fuck me harder, please baby.” 

“Atta girl.” He pushed up on his hands, leaning back and gaining more leverage to put a little force behind his thrusts. He pulled you up by your hips, and you settled onto all fours in front of him. 

He pushed back inside you, the sound of clapping flesh ringing out into the room, his balls slapping against the backs of your thighs as he pounded into you. 

“Like this, bonita?” 

You could hear the smugness dripping from his voice, but you had to concede that he was right; he did know how to use his dick.

“Just like that.” You moaned, rocking back into him. “Can you…”

“What do you want, baby? What can I give you? Don’t get all shy on me now.” He coaxed, spanking your ass again. The startle of the slap made you clench around him involuntarily, and he growled, doing it again. “Fuck, you’re so responsive.”

“Can you…maybe play with my ass a little?”

“Oh? I can do that, baby. Did ole’ Renaldo get you to thinking about it, huh?” 

“Yeah, you did.” You admitted, and he made a pleased noise. 

“That’s my girl.” He praised, pausing his thrusts to part your cheeks and spit on your hole again. 

He started moving again, slower than before so he could take his time with you. His thumb circled and teased the flesh around your hole, getting whisper-close before retreating. 

When he finally brought his thumb to your hole, you weren't expecting it. He traced it, circling the spit into the wrinkled skin before pressing inside. 

“How are you feeling, nena?” 

“Fuck, ‘sgood. Weird.” You moaned, feeling his thumb stretch you inside, pushing past the internal ring of muscle.

He increased the speed of his thrusts, his thumb moving in the opposite pattern to his cock so you never felt empty. 

“Such a good girl, baby. Letting me do this to you. Asking for what you want.” He praised. “Touch yourself for me. Want you to come on this cock.”

You tried to bring a hand to your clit, but kept losing your balance, a little too tipsy to balance on one hand while being railed like this. 

Renaldo saw your struggle and clicked his tongue, slapping your hand away gently.

“Not to worry, baby. Renaldo can multitask.” He said smugly, sucking on two fingers of his free hand and bringing it around your front to swirl the slick moisture around your clit.

You keened, a high desperate noise leaving your mouth.

“I know, I know.” He soothed. “It's a lot, isn't it?”

“Mmm, so fucking close, fuck.”

“Yeah, c'mon. Give it to me. Soak my fucking cock baby.”

You moaned wordlessly, whole body tightening and releasing in rolling waves of tension as you came the hardest you ever had, soaking his fingers and clenching both your holes around him.

“That’s it, nena. Atta girl, squeezing me like that. Where do you want it, baby? I’m gonna come.” He withdrew his thumb from you, grabbing your hips hard as he railed into you.

“Anywhere you want,” you said breathily. 

“A dangerous offer, bonita. You’d let me fill up this pretty little cunt?” 

“If you wanted.” You answer honestly. You knew you shouldn’t; shouldn’t even be having sex without a condom in the first place.

“Such a good little slut, huh? How many men have you let come inside you before, hmm?”

“One.” You answer honestly.

“Well, now I have to fill you up. Look at you, so desperate to be filled you’d let a stranger do it.”

“Not desperate for just anyone. Wouldn’t let anyone.” 

“Of course not, bebita.” He smirked, slapping your ass again. “Mm, feels so fucking good when you squeeze me like that.” 

You did it again, twice in quick succession, making him twitch inside you. 

“Jesus, baby. You want this cum, don’t you?” He picked up the pace, growling and smacking your ass again when you clenched around him. “Last chance to change your mind, sweetheart.” 

“Come for me.” You encouraged him, throwing it back to meet his thrusts. “Wanna feel it.” 

“Filthy fuckin girl.” He growled out, thrusting hard once, twice more, pressing hard against your cervix as he finally exploded, shooting ropes and ropes of cum deep into your cunt.

He pulled out gently, admiring the pearlescent string that connected the two of you from cock to cunt. 

You both flopped onto the mattress, laying side by side and sharing lazy kisses as you came down from your shared high. 

“Is that what you needed, bonita?” He asked sweetly, brushing your hair out of your face. 

“Yeah,” you agreed, hands tracing the whorls of stubble on his jaw. “Thank you.”

“Anytime.” He winked, pulling the covers over you both.

Early the next morning, you both stumbled into the hallway, bleary-eyed and still slightly buzzed from the champagne you’d finished off together after round three at some ungodly hour.

At the opposite end of the hallway, you spotted the room you’d booked with your ex. A man was sneaking out of the room, kissing your ex goodbye. 

“What the fuck?” You said to yourself, the words carrying through the quiet hallway. You hadn’t even known your ex was into men. He’d always been so weird about you being bisexual, you'd never realised that it might be more about him than you. “Well I might as well get my stuff back now.” 

Renaldo nodded, following you down the hall.

You reached the kissing couple, clearing your throat, making them startle apart. 

“We can explain.” The man who had been kissing your ex said hastily, turning around with a guilty look.

Renaldo held his hand up. “Don’t worry, Domingo. She was gonna dump this loser anyway.” 

“Renaldo!” The younger man exclaimed. 

“You two know each other?” You asked.

“He’s my younger brother.” Renaldo explained.

“Ah.” 

Domingo looked at you apologetically and you waved his concern away. After all, you’d technically cheated too last night. 

You shrugged in agreement. “Don’t worry, it’s true, I was gonna dump him.”

Your ex was stunned speechless. 

“So, uhhh. I’m just gonna grab my stuff.” You said, looking to Renaldo to see what he was going to do.

“Take your time, nena. Then we can have breakfast? My treat?” 

“Sounds perfect.” You smiled, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Your ex had finally found his words, apparently, following you into the room as you gathered your purse and overnight bag. 

“Are we really gonna do this?” You asked him, quirking an eyebrow.

Your ex visibly deflated as he realised the absurdity of the situation. 

“Yeah, I guess not. For what it’s worth, I’m sorry.” 

You looked from your ex, out to the hallway where Renaldo stood, hands in his pockets as he waited for you.

“You know what…I’m not. But uh, no hard feelings?”

“Uh, sure.” He said, watching you leave. 

“Bye Kelvin!’

“It's Kevin!”

“Oops, sorry Kevin. I guess I forgot.”

Renaldo laughed silently, shoulders shaking with amusement as you shared a knowing look.

“Let’s get out of here.” Renaldo said, pressing the button for the elevator. “I could kill for some espresso.” 

[mechncheese]

Answering some AU related asks in this post so I don't flood your feed ! I wanna draw some of these so those will be included in a separate post later on !

Jetfire, Ratchet, Wheeljack and Perceptor are on an Optimus assigned mission so that's why/how they're working together !

Prowl and Brainstorm join them later ! Prowl broke Brainstorm out of prison as a really terrible backup plan after the Jetfire's team gets compromised (full context for the AU's locations can be read here) but in summary, Luna 2, where the team was originally working, was raided by Decepticons. This forced Jetfire's team to jump through the Spacebridge to an unknown location.

Brainstorm and Prowl with the help of others storm Luna 2 and hijacks the Spacebridge so Brainstorm and Prowl can get to Jetfire's team. They only buy enough time for a one way trip so now Brainstorm and Prowl are stuck with the Science Team.

As a pitbull owner, this made me chuckle, I imagine he kinda acts like one too. His whale eye of judgement and him having absolutely no sense of personal space and getting into everyone's business. Sometimes he can look incredibly sad and pathetic. Who want him?

Honestly, he's probably considered it and then went "no, no bad Skyfire ! that's an awful thought !"

HONESTLY REAL, Jetfire would be the designated chef, I imagine he cooks in big ass portions because he eats a lot. Ratchet is the second designated chef of the science team, Perceptor mixed up the salt and sugar and fucked up the soup. Prowl only cooked enough food for himself.

First Aid is like ratatouille while Red Alert would overcook all his food out of fear.

Wheeljack and Brainstorm cook the worst meal ever, forced to be removed from the kitchen. Brainstorm probably steals a bite from everyone's food though just because "it tastes better when it's from your plate"

Thank you ! Brainstorm's wings get in the way of Everyone and Everything and he's probably ruined countless of Percy's (and everyone else's) carefully put together experiments. I think he has similar energy to when someone with a long ponytail turns around and accidentally whacks you in the face but on a much more painful scale.

In no particular order and mostly with the Science Team;

Staying up the longest without recharge

One sided racing with Jetfire, whether it be to the other side of the room, lounging area, kitchen, outside, doesn't matter he just needs to get there first (Jetfire chooses not to acknowledge this)

Engex drinking (He's actually an incredibly lightweight drinker, and the quickest to knock out out of the scientists but that won't stop him from trying)

Getting his lab reports done fastest

He keeps trying to challenge Perceptor in a game of scrabble and keeps losing

anything, and I mean ANYTHING in regards to Brainstorm, he will try his hardest to one up that guy

Wheeljack does not fuck around during group game night

Secretly playing a game of "lets see how many times I can lap everyone around the Science Base"

Glaring contest with Ratchet, whoever looks away first loses (also one sided, Ratchet's lost in thought)

"Do you dare me to do this thing?" "no" "ok im doing it"

Ratchet likes to nap, he's a big fan of getting rest and he definitely needs it, he probably snores like crazy tho. Wheeljack likes to drive long distances, doesn't need a location or anything he just likes driving around. Jetfire likes to read and journal his thoughts, his only way to cope and vent around here </3. Perceptor likes word puzzles, crosswords, word search, etc, he would be a HUGE wordle fan.

They have game nights together, mostly board games.

Brainstorm has never heard of the term “relax” in his life but he does like to push other bot’s buttons for fun. He wants to know what makes them tick. Prowl has never heard of the term “fun” in his life but he does like to sit in solitude and darkness in the quiet away from everyone.

The adding height to his wings bit is really funny omg

But nah, Wheeljack’s not really self conscious about his height. He prefers it over being Jetfire’s height. At least Wheeljack can fit through most doorways.

BAHAHA, where there's Prowl there’s Brainstorm and vice versa. Honestly I’m not sure which guy the Science Team fears more.

I'm sure that when they see Prowl around, they just look around the room for Brainstorm like they've just lost sight of a spider they've been keeping an eye on.

[drdemonprince]

A personal dilemma about dealing with mental health without calling 911: My ex wife is trying to give me her cat and that’s a pretty good indication to me and others that she’s going to attempt suicide (in the past she has said this to me and others). Her actions towards me have been abusive (I have not been an angel to her for the record) so I have been trying to go no contact (but she continues emailing me). I don’t think connecting with her would be good for her even if I wanted to because she’s so fragile that any boundary I try to draw could set her off. She’s pushed away all the friends that I knew. I’ve gotten my mom to reach out to her (my mom is long distance). I’m considering messaging her parents (local) but they have a strained relationship due to her transness and have a very limited perspective on mental health (first generation immigrant things). Is there anything else I can do that you can think of? I feel like there’s nothing I can do, like I’m doing nothing, if something happens and I did nothing I don’t know how I’ll be okay

Sorry if this is too much to dump on a stranger, I will survive if this one gets deleted

Forgive me for repeating myself on this here, but when an abusive partner threatens suicide, you should treat this as a threat to your own well-being first and foremost, and take the steps necessary to keep yourself safe.

Your ex has previously indicated to you that if she were ever to give away her cat, that this would be a huge red flag that she was on the verge of suicide. She knows that you know this, and so she is the very least aware what kind of impact that her actions right now will have on you.

We can view this both as an credible intention to commit suicide, and as a threat that can potentially bait you into making contact with her or otherwise violating your boundaries as a survivor of her abuse. These two things can be true simultaneously and equally.

And unfortunately, when someone who has committed domestic abuse becomes suicidal they do fairly often aggress against their partners or former partners, or try to take them down with them. You should not by any means make direct contact with your abuser, definitely not in person. Whether she is deeply in crisis, attempting to manipulate you into granting her greater access to you, or very likely both, there is no way in which making contact plays out well for you.

I am glad to hear that you seem to be fully aware of this yourself; the fact that you're afraid that she might kill herself because of you setting any boundaries at all is fucking chilling. That really says it all about how volatile she is and how likely she is to attempt to "punish" you for standing up for yourself by harming herself and leaving you with a lifetime of guilt. I am so sorry you had an endure this kind of manipulation and terrorization.

I do not think that you have any reason to call the cops or the psychiatrists on your ex here. We all know the outcomes for people experiencing mental health emergencies when confronted with the police are dire. The odds are just as great that they might kill her or forcibly institutionalize her in a way that makes her more suicidal than that they might help her. You are not being negligent for failing to sic authorities on her. By not involving the police you very well could prevent her from enduring harm, and either way, you are allowing her to make decisions on her own terms.

It sounds like bringing her parents into the picture would not necessarily make things better, and that if anything they might call the cops. I would weigh what you know about them and the situation before making a decision on that front.

You mentioned that she is no longer close with any of the friends of hers that you knew, but perhaps you can contact some of them and just make them aware of the situation, and they can decide whether they are available to support her in some way. At the very least, you may be able to find someone who's willing to come by her house and check on her. Think about any other associates she might be on decent terms with, whether that's from school or work or some shared community space, and you can let them know the situation as well.

Ultimately she does have the right to kill herself if that's what she wants to do, and as horrifying as it might be for you, it is not your fault. You are not in control over what happens here. You have never been in control, she was abusing you and she is continuing to send you upsetting and terrifying messages that make you feel powerless and scared.

I understand that of course you want to do everything in your power to prevent a person you loved from killing themselves, but as someone who has been there and has had their abuser in fact kill themselves, it is truly out of your hands, and what is most important is that you don't wind up pulled back into their web.

[luvfae]

love your writing! i was wondering if I could request something for thanos? maybe a softer thanos in the games, after he gets down from his high (after red light green light) he sees his long term gf there too (she joined to pay off his debt) and he just feels guilty and is soft with her? like you can tell he’s scared that she’ll die and he’s pissed that she’s there and in danger but still soft towards her? also she’s the only one he allows to call him by his birth name.

tysm if you do this 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

STAY CLOSE

parings: thanos/choi su bong x f!reader

warnings: squid game stuff, mention of death and blood, swearing, angst

The chaos had settled. Bodies were dragged away, the stench of blood lingering in the air, but the arena was quiet now—eerily so. The adrenaline was wearing off, the drug-induced haze lifting, and with it came the weight of what had just happened.

Thanos dragged a hand down his face, sucking in a deep breath, trying to calm the storm in his chest. He had survived. He should’ve felt relieved. Instead, his stomach twisted, his high crashing into an ugly, gnawing dread.

And then he saw you.

At first, he thought he was hallucinating. His brain must’ve been playing tricks on him because there was no way. No fucking way. But then you turned your head, the dim, sickly light catching on your familiar eyes, and his heart nearly stopped.

“Y/N?” His voice was hoarse, barely more than a breath.

You flinched, looking up, and when your gaze met his, he felt something inside him break.

No.

No, no, no.

“What the fuck are you doing here, baby?” His voice was urgent, desperate, but he couldn’t move. He felt frozen in place, locked in some twisted nightmare.

You opened your mouth, but before you could speak, he was already in front of you, gripping your shoulders, his touch frantic but careful, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he wasn’t gentle. “Tell me I’m tripping. Tell me I’m still high. You can’t be here.”

You swallowed hard. “I had to, Su-bong. I—”

His whole body flinched at the sound of his real name coming from your lips. You were the only one allowed to say it, and you knew it, but hearing it here, in this fucked-up place, sent a deep, sick feeling crawling up his throat.

“You had to?” His voice cracked. He searched your face, his hands coming up to cradle your cheeks, thumbs brushing against your skin like he was trying to convince himself you were real. “Princess, you don’t belong here. What the fuck did you do?”

Your lips trembled. “Your debt—”

Thanos’ breath hitched, and his heart slammed against his ribs. “You joined for me?”

You nodded, and it shattered him.

His mouth opened and closed, words failing him. His hands dropped from your face, fingers curling into fists before releasing again, shaking from the sheer force of his emotions. He felt like he was drowning in them.

“You’re so fucking stupid,” he whispered, but his voice wasn’t angry. It was broken.

A thick silence settled between you. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to be mad—should’ve been mad—but how could he be when all he felt was raw, aching guilt?

His jaw clenched. “You could die in here, señorita.”

“So could you,” you shot back, a touch of defiance in your voice.

His head dropped, eyes squeezing shut. He let out a slow breath, forcing himself to steady, to think. He had to keep you safe. No matter what. That was the only thing that mattered now.

Finally, he met your gaze again, softer this time, almost pleading. “Stay close to me, honey. I mean it. Don’t leave my fucking side. You hear me?”

You nodded.

But it wasn’t enough.

Thanos pulled you into his arms, burying his face in your hair, his grip tight, like he could shield you from all the horrors lurking just around the corner. “I got you, baby,” he murmured. “I got you.”

And for the first time since the game started, he felt something other than fear. He felt purpose.

[knivestothroats]

The Professionals - Bargain Price

The Professionals is a crossover of In the Woods Somewhere by me and Professional//Victim by @victimeyez In which Tommy learns the price of trying to bargain. (Follow up to Allowances) CW: Long term captivity, violent whumper, many graphic threats, beating, biting, bchoking

Fletcher let Tommy stew for a bit before they came to find him. They enjoyed their dinner and took a moment to decide what they were going to do to him. 

When they opened the door to his room, it was empty.

Or – mostly empty. Fletcher was good at scanning rooms, and it only took them a moment to spot a bit of a pale foot under the bed. They stepped lightly in and crouched, snagging his ankle and dragging him out.

Tommy yelped as he was wrenched from his hiding spot, immediately putting his hands up in a weak attempt to shield himself. Any vestiges of bravado he had managed earlier were long gone now. Fletcher looked down at him as he cowered at their boots.

“Hey, buddy.”

“Fletcher – Fletcher,” his voice broke. “I’m s-so sorry, I don’t know what I was– I never should have– I can–” Tommy hiccuped out a sob and covered his face with his hands.

Fletcher put a finger to their lips and waited for Tommy to quiet down.

“If you want to act like a child and throw a tantrum, then I’m canceling your playdate.” 

Fletcher pulled their phone from their pocket and opened up Buck’s contact.

“Wait! Wait no, no nononono Fletcher, wait, please!” Tommy scrambled up onto his knees, clinging to Fletcher’s thigh frantically. 

Fletcher held the phone up above their head to keep it out of Tommy’s reach.

“What? You want something worse than being grounded?”

“Please, please, anything else, I’ll – I’ll pay for the wall, and – and you can hurt me, please please just don’t call him!”

“Oh ho, buddy, you are absolutely paying for the wall,” Fletcher sneered. “Do you know how long that’s going to take you to pay off? You can forget about buying anything any time soon.”

It took a moment, but then seemed to fully dawn on Tommy how much it would cost him. Fletcher could see him trying to do the math in his head, the dread on his face as it really sank in. Five dollars a week couldn’t get much, and months would stack up fast.

“I…” He gulped, his eyes watering. “I know, I know, I’ll do it, but please don’t take Buck away.”

Fletcher eyed Tommy for a moment.

“You said I could hurt you? What do you want me to do to you instead? What do you think is enough to make up for it?”

“Well, yes, I mean…..um…” Tommy’s eyes darted nervously around the room, as if he would find something that might help him. He wet his lips. 

“You could…you could…beat me...”

“I could beat you and still send Buck away,” Fletcher retorted. “I can beat you for stuttering when you talk to me. I could beat you for anything, whenever I want. If you want me to change my mind, you have to come up with something enticing.”

Tommy blinked away tears. “You can… you can use a knife?” He offered tentatively.

“Yeah?” Fletcher asked mockingly. “I can use a knife? Can I take off patches of your skin with it? Can I wedge the point under your fingernails?”

Tommy’s jaw moved, but no words came out.

“Can I chop off a finger?” Fletcher continued. “One of your ears? Can I stick it in your eye? Can I open up your fucking veins? Is that okay with you?!”

Their words grew more aggressive and they grabbed the front of Tommy’s shirt.

“I… I…” Tommy stammered.

“What, you don’t want that? Well, can I do something else? What about your bones, Thunderbird, am I allowed to break those? Can I knock out your teeth? Can I hold your head under water? Can I break out the car battery and the jumper cables? Can I burn the bottoms of your feet so you have to crawl? Can I wrap my hands around your throat and tighten them until you stop moving and your last thought before you pass out is that you hope to fucking god I let go before you die? Huh? Can I do any of those fucking things to you?”

“I… I’m sorry, I don’t…”

Fletcher slapped Tommy hard across the face, swinging it to the side.

“Wise the fuck up, kid,” Fletcher snapped. “I can do whatever the fuck I want to you. Maybe it worked for you before where you bat your fucking eyelashes and get on your knees and you get out of whatever you had coming, but I don’t give a shit about any of that. You take what I give you.”

“Yes, Fletcher, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Tommy cried, words coming out barely above a whisper. His teary eyes tracked the movement of the phone in their hand. “I’ll take whatever you give me. Can you please hang up now?”

It took Fletcher a second to process. They looked at their phone and saw the seconds ticking up, timing the phone call.

“Oh shit,” they muttered. They put the phone to their ear. “Buck, you there?”

No answer. Must be a voicemail.

Fletcher ended the call. They hesitated a moment, then punched Tommy hard in the chest.

Tommy made a breathy grunt as the wind was knocked out of him. He dropped to the floor, curled up on his side, and tried a few frightening times to draw a breath before one actually came.

“Don’t punch my fucking wall,” Fletcher growled, standing up. “We aren’t finished with this conversation.”

Fletcher stepped forwards over Tommy and planted their boot down firmly on the side of his face, pinning his head to the floor. He was already trembling with fear, struggling to catch his breath. They called Buck again, putting it on speaker and letting the automatic voicemail answer message play.

“Hey, didn’t mean to call you the first time. Hit the button accidentally. But, look, I am canceling your next visit because Tommy is grounded. I’ll let you know when you can come back.”

Tommy whimpered pitifully on the ground, but didn’t protest.

Fletcher ended the call and sent Buck a text.

Ignore the first voicemail.

“Alright, get up,” Fletcher instructed, stepping off of Tommy. He shakily got to his feet. “Follow me.”

Tommy slinked along after Fletcher, but hung back when Fletcher opened the basement door. His chest tightened. 

“After you.”

Fletcher gestured down the dark stairwell. As much as Tommy didn’t want to go down there, it didn’t seem like a good time to disobey. 

You’ve been in the basement before, he told himself as he forced his feet down each step. You were fine.

But Fletcher wasn’t mad at you then.

Tommy hesitated at the bottom of the stairs as Fletcher pulled the string on the overhead lights. They stood in the empty part of the basement. Nothing but a cement floor with a drain. They gestured for Tommy to join them.

Tommy’s heart was racing. He didn’t feel like he was piloting his body as it approached Fletcher. Instinctively, he began to lower himself to the floor when Fletcher cut him off.

“Don’t get on your fucking knees unless I tell you,” they growled.

“S-Sorry,” Tommy said, quickly straightening up. 

“You wanna fight me?”

Tommy was so taken aback he was sure he heard them wrong. His brain was making things up again. 

“What - sorry - what did you say?”

“I said,” Fletcher stepped closer, invading Tommy’s space. “Do you want to fight me?”

“N-No, no, Fletcher, of course I-”

“You wanted to hit me earlier,” Fletcher asserted. “You hit the wall instead. Isn’t that right? It wasn’t the wall you were angry at.”

Tommy shrank back. “I was just… I didn’t…”

“Well, I’m giving you the opportunity,” Fletcher said. “I’ll even let you start.”

Tommy was wide eyed and frozen like a deer in headlights. Fletcher waited, staring him down with a cold gaze.

“I don’t want to fight you,” Tommy said in a small voice.

Fletcher shoved Tommy in the chest with both hands, causing him to stumble backwards.

“Let me reframe this,” they said, pacing after him. “You can stand there and take a beating, or you can fight back. I am giving you a chance to fight back. Clearly it’s something you need to get out of your system, so you don’t go punching holes in my walls.”

They reached out and grabbed Tommy by the face, squeezing in his cheeks. With a sharp smile they said, “Aren’t I so fucking nice?”

They let go and gave Tommy a slap, but not nearly as hard as they had earlier.

“C’mon. You were a street punk. You never learned how to fight?”

“Fletcher, I don’t…” Tommy put up his hands. “Please, I don’t want to do this!”

Fletcher easily reached through his defense to grab Tommy by the front of his shirt, and punched him across the face.

“You want to stand there and get hit like you always do?” They snapped. “Don’t you want to hit back for once in your miserable life?”

Tommy’s head was swimming. Pain bloomed across his jaw from the strike. His fear and anger rose in his gut, but he felt paralyzed to defend himself. The product of years of grueling training to never resist, to never fight back. Now he had a chance, and he was terrified. When he saw Fletcher raise their fist again, he threw up his arms to guard his face. 

Fletcher’s knuckles collided with the bones of Tommy’s thin arms. He managed to keep his defenses up, so Fletcher went low and drove their fist into his stomach. When Tommy doubled over, dropping his arms to his abdomen, Fletcher smacked him across the face.

“Fucking do something,” they snarled. “This isn’t over until you fight back.”

Something in Tommy snapped. 

He lunged at Fletcher, hand flying out to take a swipe at their face, his fingers curled into claws.

Fletcher managed to block the attack, grabbing his arm and pushing it away. Tommy immediately countered with his other hand, yanking his arm free to make mad swipes and rain fists down wherever he could.

Fletcher parried a strike and shot a fist out at Tommy’s stomach again. He folded slightly but was being carried by the adrenaline, flinging himself back at Fletcher. 

Fletcher blocked his first arm, but the second managed to slip through. Tommy’s nails clawed across Fletcher’s cheek and eyelid. 

Fletcher hissed and shoved Tommy back. He charged forward, head down, colliding with Fletcher like he was trying to tackle them. Fletcher had to brace their feet but remained upright easily. They even let out a small laugh before driving their elbow down into his back. 

Tommy jerked and grunted at the impact but didn’t let go. He tried to strike with his knees and kick at the inside of Fletcher’s legs. Fletcher took the opportunity to pull him off his balance, throwing him to the floor.

Tommy held fast to Fletcher’s shirt, pulling them down with him.

Fletcher could feel their own balance start to go and aimed their fall to land with their knee on Tommy’s stomach. He let out an oof but didn’t stop. Instead he reached up and snagged a fistful of Fletcher’s hair.

In the old days, Fletcher had kept their head buzzed for this reason. Having it used against them now gave them an instinctive jolt of panic, as well as anger. 

If Tommy wanted to go low - scratching, grappling, hair pulling - Fletcher would meet him there. They landed their hand on his face and dug their thumb into his eye socket.

Tommy let out a groan through gritted teeth and twisted his face away to shake off the hand, then back to sink his teeth into it. All without loosening his grip on Fletcher’s hair.

Fletcher let out a roar of pain and tore their hand away. 

Enough fucking around.

They drove their fist down hard into the center of Tommy’s face. They could feel his nose crunch beneath their knuckles.

Tommy relinquished his grip, both hands moving toward his face, but Fletcher caught his arm and bit back, clamping their jaw down on his forearm.

Tommy yelled out in pain. His face was painted red from the blood pouring out his nose like Fletcher had struck oil. He was no longer struggling, just trying to curl in defensively once more.

Fletcher released and stood up. They leaned down and hauled Tommy up by the front of his shirt, putting him in a sitting position.

Tommy was breathing heavily through his mouth, head hanging low, blood running freely down his chin and dripping into his lap. Fletcher took a fistful of his hair and pulled his head up to look at them. Tommy braced for impact.

“Feel better?” Fletcher asked scornfully.

“No,” Tommy said, voice muddled by a clogged nose. Blood sprayed off his lips when he spoke.

“Was it worth it?”

“No,” Tommy groaned. With his nose broken, he had to pant for air through his mouth, blood tingeing his teeth red. Fletcher’s other hand went to his collar, gripping it tight in their fist so it pulled against his throat. Tommy’s hands fluttered around their forearm, wanting to pull them off but unable to muster the strength. He’d already lost - no need to keep digging deeper. 

“Did we learn something?” Fletcher asked, tugging sharply on the collar while keeping him in place with their fist his hair. 

“Y-yes Fletcher, please don’t hit me anymore, I’m sorry,” Tommy pleaded. His voice was congested, and blood was starting to spread through the fabric of his shirt as it streamed down off his face. 

Fletcher cocked their head to the side, considering him. Tommy took the respite to wheeze, struggling not to cough up the blood filling his mouth into Fletcher’s face. 

“Your place is right here, under my boot. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Fletcher.” 

They shook his head by their fist in his hair and he whimpered, clenching his eyes closed against the pain hammering inside his head. 

“Should I be merciful?” Fletcher asked, their voice low. Tommy cracked an eye open, trying to tell if they were asking, or just talking to themselves. They looked pissed, but alive, excited. 

Beg, Tommy, beg for it, a voice urged him. It spoke in Caius’s voice, so close he could feel his breath against his ear. 

“P-please, please Fletcher, you’ve let me - let me live here and I forgot to be grateful, I’m so grateful, please, please don’t hurt me anymore, don’t let me – don’t let me lose the mercy you’ve shown, please, I know my place, please, please don’t kill me, I’ll be good!” Tommy hiccuped, sobs breaking through as the last of his adrenaline rush abandoned him.

Fletcher let him beg, leaning back to take in the full picture. They finally relinquished their fist in his hair to stroke his face with an unexpected softness. Tommy twitched weakly, waiting for more punishment. Instead, the hand wiped his tears, then dropped away. Fletcher placed a boot on Tommy’s leg, holding him in place. With their other hand, they lifted the collar.

The leather dug into Tommy’s throat, digging under his chin and pressing against his windpipe.  It was hard to draw in any breath, and his shallow gasps punctuated the thick silence between them.

They played with him like that for a bit, letting go just when the world started to grey out, returning as soon as he managed a gulp of air. When they finally let go, Tommy was dazed, his eyes unfocused. Fletcher relented and stepped off of him. When they released their grip on the collar holding him up, Tommy drooped forward limply. 

“Forget your allowance until I think you’ve paid for the repair – which you’ll be doing, and doing right. No play dates until you learn some self control. And if I hear a single word about it, I’ll make what I’ve done to you today feel like a vacation. You understand me?”

It took him a moment to process their words, but then Tommy gave a shaky nod. Fletcher leaned in and patted his cheek. 

“Good answer.”

@suspicious-whumping-egg @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @apokolyps @whumpinggrounds

@morning-star-whump @leviiio @alexmundaythrufriday

@defire @jumpywhumpywriter @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@light-me-on-pyre @slightlydisturbedbeans @dislexiher @paperprinxe @desert-dyke

@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @whatwasmyprevioususername @cursedandtired

@whump-only @misspelledwitch @redstainedsocks @thehopelessopus @im-just-here-for-the-whump

@thatsthewhump @utopian819 @pretty-face-breaker @thesuffererrrr

[tj-crochets]

I am once again in insurance hell, so let me reiterate: Aetna is the worst health insurance company I’ve ever had to deal with. Avoid it if you can. 

[a-scary-lack-of-common-sense]

Drawing Woody Pride and Buzz Lightyear entirely from memory after not having watched the movies in over 6 years :D

No reference, no rewatching. I was RAWDOGGING this shit, man ‼️💥💥⁉️💥

Meme references under cut

[foxfire-hashira]

As someone who used to work at a nursing home, I'm getting really tired of nursing staff turning to each other and going, "if I ever end up like THAT, just fucking kill me" like motherfucker the quality of life of these residents is your SOLE responsibility and if they're not living their best lives that is YOUR FAULT.

These residents are here because this is their best option. They're here because if they weren't, their quality of life would be worse.

These residents make friends with their roommates, the people they eat with, and the people who go to activities with them.

A disabled elder's quality of life is not measured by their ability to walk.

A disabled elder's quality of life is not measured by their ability to breathe without oxygen.

A disabled elder's quality of life is not measured by whether or not they're on a feeding tube.

A disabled elder's quality of life is not measured by level of continence.

A disabled elder's quality of life is not measured by whether or not they can chew their food.

A disabled elder's quality of life is entirely measured on whether or not their needs are met.

If their quality of life is worse at a nursing home than it would be if they had just stayed home, then their needs are not being met. If you are not meeting their needs, that is YOUR FAULT and you have FAILED your residents as a medical professional.

[asneakyfox]

like, look, stede thinks ed wants an unfair division of labor where ed only does stuff he thinks is fun, and in another context that would be a VERY reasonable complaint, but HERE part of the context is that stede's saying they need to fix this in order to make the inn successful, and the inn being successful is kind of the problem. they don't need to make the inn a success! it's already doing well and that's what's making them miserable!

stede is the one who seems to care about the inn being successful and wants ed to work harder at it. but stede is also the one who straight up does not seem to enjoy any part of innkeeping. the framing thus far seems to suggest pretty strongly that ed working harder would not actually solve stede's problem because stede doesn't actually seem to like ANY part of this whole innkeeper gig.

ed meanwhile has been pretty straightforward from the beginning - all the way back to 2x03 when it came up for the first time - that he liked the idea of an inn and he enjoys some aspects of innkeeping, like nonviolent socialization with people who actually want to be around him and getting to be weird about fabrics, but ultimately none of this is about a passion for the hospitality industry. what he wanted was to retire from piracy with stede and get to do some kind of chill normal domestic thing where they'd both be safe. and then ghost izzy points out that yeah you had barely conceived of the concept of retirement when you came up with this so it's not surprising your first plan for how it would work was maybe not as ideal as it sounded at the time.

as far as i can tell this is a problem that would not be solved by ed working harder or being more appreciative and IS a problem that would be solved the instant either one of them said "hey i don't think i really like innkeeping all that much, do you? do you think there's something we could do together that's not innkeeping or piracy? (or maybe there's some alternate way to do piracy where we're not in constant danger and ed doesn't have to be blackbeard idk?) because what really matters to me isn't the fucking inn, it's that i'm with you and we're both happy."

i just don't see any way this is leading up to a resolution where ed, like, realizes he's been immature and ungrateful and he's failing to appreciate stede just like he always exploited izzy's devotion or some kind of shit like that. and not just because that isn't how i've read these characters before this point but mostly because that really doesn't make sense to me as where the bsky narrative on its own could possibly be going. that would only make sense if it were going to end with the two of them rededicating themselves to the inn with a renewed sense of passion for hospitality and a more equitable division of labor or something and lmao that is not going to fucking happen. we have all known that inn was doomed for a year. that's the one thing every single member of the cast crew and fandom have consistently agreed on. the inn is a valuable learning experience in the short term but in the long term the inn sucks! fuck that inn!

i've seen this from a couple different people but i really think it's a misread to think the character arc of gentlebeard in the djenks holiday special is actually that ed is just being lazy and doesn't want to do hard stuff and he needs to be managed. i mean, he could probably help stede out more, but that doesn't look to me like the core of the actual problem at all?

it seems to me like what's going on is that stede is determined to Not Run Away. "i'm not changing my life again." stede abandoned his first marriage, and then he abandoned ed, and then he abandoned his first marriage AGAIN, and then he abandoned piracy, and now! now he's supposed to have things figured out! now he's not going to be a guy who runs anymore! now is when he shows that he can commit to things! he's committed to his life with ed and part of his life with ed is being innkeepers so THE INN HAS TO SUCCEED AT ALL COSTS.

he cannot admit even inside his own mind that he just fucking hates innkeeping, because that would mean admitting failure. innkeeping was ed's dream! how could he be selfish enough to give up on ed's dream? he's gotten his brain into a state where the success of the inn equals the success of his relationship with ed, and he's gotten so obsessed with that he's not paying attention to their actual relationship. and at the same time he's miserable so it comes out as frustration with ed because it can't be that he doesn't like innkeeping and he's working so hard he can't do any more so surely it must be that ed's the one who needs to be more committed?

(plus what would he do instead? he doesn't want to go back to piracy because he doesn't want to die anymore, or see ed die, and what other options are there? if he admits he hates the inn then he'd have to admit he doesn't actually KNOW what he wants to do and that would be terrible because maybe the problem is him, maybe he'll always feel like this wherever he goes, maybe he just doesn't know how to be happy)

what he needs to say is "i want to be with you but i don't want to be innkeepers, can we figure out something else?" but he cannot say that, he can't even think that, and it comes out as "why aren't you helping with cakes more?" it's not about the cakes.

[kelocitta]

There is currently a rather large discussion ongoing about the RW fandom behavior, drama, etc. I am not going to talk about the specifics of whats happened for a number of reasons. But what I do want to say is that if at any point you've harassed people over it, whether that be through anon asks or public posts- you did nothing but damage the ability for people to correctly process what is happening. You contributed nothing but harm to an already delicate situation. It does not matter what "side" you were on and I will not tolerate further interaction with me or my work if I found out you did such. If you let your personal hate for anyone boil over into threats, wishes for long term harm and petty comments meant to contribute nothing but slander or mental distress for the individuals involved who were already distressed (or acting irrationally) you did nothing but make it harder for people to process their emotions, thoughts and behaviors constructively. Regardless of who you think was in the right, who fucked up, whatever. It doesn't matter if they deserved it, or earned it, or if its an eye for an eye. Its difficult enough as it is to think clearly when presented with any kind of stressful situation and heckling people does nothing but make it worse and harder for them to explain themself in any capacity. I don't want you anywhere near me if you think that is an acceptable way to act.

[statementlou]

Last Requezt, Paolo Nutini cover, SF 2-4-25 (download here)

[acebytaemin]

no one’s ever actually wanted to like date me all i get are dudes looking to. Well idk what bc i don’t let them come in a 2 meter radius of me but you know what i mean. And it kinda sucks -___-

[theprincessandthepie]

LOOK AT HERRRRRRR <3333333