#how does tumbler work help

[bingsuju]

a maniac ! ⚡️

[marcomunro]

[ririkon]

I came for a reason, It's a collab with Lebedek. She doesn't have a tumbler, but she does have Twitter.

https://twitter.com/Lebedek_Vika?s=09

There is a little background to this art, but it is translated from Russian, and everything can be a little complicated and unclear.

........

For travelers, the Multiverse was like an entrance, where even the walls had ears, which is why, due to carelessness, rumors could spread instantly. What Error and Inkoi immediately took into account, since there were threats in this regard from all sides: that the bad guys, that the star ones foreshadowed certain difficulties; other travelers; and the universes themselves even more so. Sooner or later, of course, everything will be revealed, but no matter how hopeless it may sound, they decided to continue playing for outsiders until the last, fighting for the universes for show, remaining on their usual sides.

The snow, which once lay calmly among tall dark spruce trees, was stirred up by red bones, stained by caustic ink, and branches broke under blue threads.

The frosty air was now and then cut through by the dangerous crack of blasters. An ardent battle was going on for one of the universes, which Error had designated for destruction and, no matter what the universe was, the experienced guardians of the version usually spared no effort in battles, remembering the past, turning the matter into sparring, not giving in to the opponent, but also trying to do without any or serious injury. Everything usually ended with someone’s loss, by which the fate of the universe was already determined. But time for this decision was not always allocated immediately.

Blood sprinkled the snow and Glyuche gave a strangled hiss, clutching his ribs, and the brush was instantly thrown to the ground.Error looked at his hand and there was a burgundy mark left on it due to the mixing of blood with ink. I didn’t have time to properly defend myself from the deceptive maneuver, so I exposed myself to attack.

Ink looked around, not noticing anyone nearby, quickly jumped up to Glyucha and helped him move a little further into the thicket, away from the empty space and random extra eyes, which he really didn’t need right now.

The artist fussily examined Error’s overall appearance and shrank all over, fixing his gaze on the dangerously deep wound. He touched the bloody, torn edge of his clothing, where cracked bright ribs were visible, and from under them the light of a glitchy blue soul was breaking through. It was dangerously close to the wound.

-“I’m sorry, I didn’t calculate the strength, I didn’t want it to happen like this, it seemed that you would dodge, as you always did,”- Ink rattled anxiously. “Please forgive me, let’s go home soon, I’ll heal everything,” he continued to worry, darting his gaze from the wound to his face. Glitchy.

But he no longer cared about the pain, he was more amazed at the reaction of his opponent - they had stopped trying to kill each other too long ago, so such fuss about his health made him embarrassed. Even during the times of enmity, there were similar cases when he was treated by an artist after battles to the point of death, but now it felt different after they became closer and stopped competing in the number of broken bones.This care on the part of the artist... he gently put his hand on top of the artist's hand and looked at him with tenderness. There was not a drop of anger or resentment in his gaze.

-"Wait, let's stand a little longer... like this, next to each other."

Ink looked up in surprise at Glyuche and chuckled quietly, calming down a little.

-“Only if it’s a little, then I’ll drag you home, I won’t let you bleed,” - he took Error by the hand.

Also a bit of work process~

[panboiiibish]

Thinking about monsters right now. More specifically soft little weredog and their big scary werewolf partner.

I cant stop thinking about it just like the hare x bunny. Wolves and dogs are so diffrent but somehow the same. Makes me drool when I think about the relationship between the two.

Little puppy is so bouncy as their tail waggles with their hips as they prance along hand in hand with their big wolf partner. Said partner is just walking along with them trying to keep the little from dashing after a squirrel or across the street.

Their big compaired to their tiny lover and it dosnt just show in their size but also their resting bitch face. Along with how they walk too, so tall and imposing only bending over a little to see what their puppy is trying to show them.

The only bit of emotion the wolf seems to show is when their tail softly swishes. Patting against their thigh or if they have crouched down or sat their wiry soft fur brushes the floor.

Puppy would wander off finding all kinds of pretty rocks and good sticks before going back to their love to show off the bounty. Making sure to craft a little necklace out of the best rock so they can match jewelry. It's also a light little claim on their partner, nothing like what the wolf does to them when they are being scented by the bigger one. But it works for their little puppy heart.

Wolf loves their sweet airhead of a love, so cute when they find silly little items only to make someone's trash into their own little treasure. They love to help in little ways, cleaning off the nasty from something that looks like a pile of mud or bringing their little a rock tumbler or two so their rocks are extra pretty.

They provide for eachother in such soft sweet ways, though sometimes wolf brings home a kill or two and helps puppy learn how to properly prepare it. They got to make sure their sweet little house partner knows how to clean and cook a kill if wolf becomes too busy. Though no way are they letting puppy handle a knife alone for the first few times.

Hii! Its Pan! Here's a soft little durable bc I'm in a puppy mood, just love the idea of a little thing and their caretaker. Wondering if I should make some of my Thinking about ideas into actual characters. Puppy and wolf are kinda biased off a character iv been thinking up. Anyways have a nice night!

[theblue6ook]

A Quiet Day

Summary: Bruce does not like celebrating his birthday. All of the pomp and circumstance was very “Bruce Wayne Bachelor,” but it wasn’t him. He wants quiet, he wants easy, he wants focus. So Y/N gives him that.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader

a/n: I tried to add everyone who wanted to be on the tag list, but let me know if I missed you! [B (24) & Y/N (22)]

“Happy Birthday, Master Bruce,” he heard Alfred over the speaker system. 

Bruce couldn’t help but gaze at the digital clock built into his car console. Well, maybe a tank console? Lucious Fox said it was called the Tumbler, but the name just didn’t feel right to him. It was a birthday present he had told Bruce, and Bruce would call it what he liked... when he thought of a name. He was patrolling, as he does, except this time, he would take his new Waynetech Tank out for a spin. Nope, that name feels wrong too.

“Thank you, Alfred.” 

“Anything special planned this year, sir.”

“You know there’s not,” he chuckled.

“I wasn’t sure if you were getting bold with birthdays,” he could feel Alfred's grin, “considering what an extravagant time Ms. Y/N had.” 

“Just doing something nice for a friend, Alfred.”

Friend. That was nice to say. It’s easy to make friends when you’re a twenty-three - well, now a twenty-four-year-old billionaire. Bruce had never been low on friendships, but he had been low on real friendships. Of course, he had good friends. Rachel, Alfred, Lucius, and Jack Drake, to name a few, but that was all before The Bat. After he had left Gotham, he’d been through a lot. He’d been alone a lot. None of them would ever understand what he went through, who he was now. When he had trained, you’d be "assigned" friends. People you had to work with, save. He had met people who would and had died for him. How can you come back to trivial friendships after that?

And when you don’t water something, it dies. So, friendships slowly crumbled. Shriveled away. It wasn’t in a huge, dramatic way, but in a lost touch way. People didn’t want to deal with the Bruce Wayne he really was, a workaholic, stressed, easily annoyed, quick, and yet she didn’t care.

Y/N had come along, and he was used to the petty fights, people making up their minds, even leaving. They'd slowly given up on him. But she didn’t. They could fight all day long, and by the end, he’d be frustrated, grabbing his coat and announcing it was the end of the day for him. She’d look up at him and say, "See you tomorrow."

Once, he had questioned her about it, half joking and half not, “You’re not going to walk out and never come back?” 

She had looked at him strangely and scoffed, “Bruce, it’s fine if we argue and argue and move on. That’s friendship. That’s life.”

“That’s life?” he had asked sarcastically.

“Yeah. Now get over it and get out,” she had smirked at him.

So, they fight, and they move on, and they fight, and they move on, and Bruce doesn’t mind at all. At the end of the day, he knows he’ll see her the next, and then he does. It’s consistent, and god knows he could use some consistency. 

“A good friend gives back,” Alfred stated. “Maybe she’ll plan you a party.”

God, he hopes not.

-

Y/N had been conspiring. Bruce had made her birthday like nothing she had ever imagined, and even if her ex-finance had soiled the evening, she was grateful. So she wanted to do something special for him, except… he didn’t really seem like he wanted to do anything. Everyone in the office was talking about The Bruce Wayne’s birthday except for Bruce Wayne himself. 

Y/N knew she never typically saw his party side, aside from him hopping into the fountain at The Ocelot. The Bruce she knew was more reserved, quiet, and calculated. Plus, when it came to the topic of his birthday, it’s like he shut the complete conversation down. So, how do you plan something for the one person who wants nothing?

You don’t.

At least you don’t plan a party; you make the day itself special. Bruce hated meetings, so she moved them. He loved the bagel place she showed him down by Dorthie’s Flowers, so she scheduled a nice lunch. The last time she was in Dorthie’s, John had told her that violets were Bruce’s birth flower, so she put some in the office. Finally, for the last hour of their workday, she had a cake, nothing special, she had made it with Carrie last night, and a few birthday cards. 

She was nervous as hell. Giving something to the man who can afford everything is more nerve-wracking than she thought it would be. 

Bruce had arrived at his typical noon timeline. He stepped into the office with caution, just praying what had happened in the past years wouldn’t happen today. When he did occasionally come into the office years ago, past assistants and coworkers would plan some Bruce Wayne Birthday Happy Hour where everyone would get plastered, and he would sneak off annoyed. He knew Y/N knew him better than that. Or at least he hoped she did.

When he stepped into the office, there were no decorations, no music, and no surprises so far. He let out a breath. There was Y/N battling it out on the phone like she usually is. She waved at him and mouthed to him I can’t do phone calls anymore, rolling her eyes. He chuckled, stepping into his office.

Violets.

It wasn’t abnormal for Y/N to grab flowers for the office. She was dear friends with his florist, but violets made him think of his mother. Every birthday, his mother would go through the grueling tale of his birth just to tease him. 

“Thomas, you don’t get to laugh. You were no help!” she squealed. “Anyways, my dear Brucie. I was in the worst pain of my life bringing you into this world. All I wanted was my ice chips when our doctor started going on about birth flowers to distract me.”

“It annoyed her to no end-”

“Stop interrupting me, Thomas,” she had giggled, and Bruce had done the same. “Anyways, I was trying to bring you into this world, and he tells me, ‘ma’am it sounds like your son’s birth flower will be a violet. I never cared for violets.’ And I thought, what a terrible thing to say to a mother. So I kicked him out, and the nurse and I worked hard for you.” 

“She’s not joking, son.”

“But now, every birthday I just have to douse the house in violets for my sweet Brucie.”

 Bruce stepped closer, touching the edge of the petals with his fingertips. It had been a while since he’d been given any flowers... but violets, he was sure he had only gotten them from Mama.

There was a light cough behind him, and he turned to see a bashful Y/N. “So, no meetings today, but we have some paperwork to go through.”

“No meetings?” he questioned. That would be a first.

“Yeah, this donator work really should take priority,” she tried to act casually. “Oh, and I was going to run to Upper East Bagel later if you want to come.”

“We’re not getting delivery?”

“Well, it’s nice outside,” she started innocently. Bad lie, she thought. It’s February. It’s never nice. “I figured I’d walk, but if you want me to go by myself I can grab something for you.”

Bruce scoffed, “You’re not walking by yourself in Gotham.”

She grinned. Bait taken. 

For the few hours before lunch, they worked on paperwork. The donator paperwork did take up a chunk of time. There were so many details like which benefits he needed to attend, which non-profits were approved for the Wayne Charity donation program, etc. He was whipped, and even worse, he was hungry. Stepping toward the door, he leaned on the frame. Y/N was digging through one of her bags, and he cleared his throat.

“Bageles?”

She grinned, “I’m literally starving.”

Y/N was excited, not just for the bagel, but because as soon as they walked down to get their lunch, Alfred was going to come and help her set up Bruce’s office. Again, nothing crazy, a cake, cards, and maybe a balloon. It was nothing that should take long. She even had everything in a tote bag under her desk. 

The bagel line wasn’t long, and they didn’t have any issues other than a few people recognizing Bruce and wishing him a happy birthday. When they did, he’d look at her curiously. While Y/N had no reaction, Bruce was suspicious. So, she knows it’s my birthday, and she hasn’t said anything. Not that Bruce cared about things like that, but Y/N wasn’t the type to forget or be silent on the subject. She had only glanced at him innocently, batting her lashes, “Should we eat lunch in the park?

Bruce humored her, so they sat in Gotham Park and ate their lunch. While the bagel was great, it was fucking freezing outside. Y/N looked over at Bruce, pleasantly eating his bagel. It didn't look like the cold had bothered him at all. Despite not being cold, the whole ordeal had Bruce's mind moving. God, please no office parties when we get back. 

He was on edge stepping back into the office, waiting for some insane ordeal… but nothing. They took the elevator straight up to his office, and walked in by Y/N’s desk and… nothing. He breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe she forgot and didn’t want to say anything. Y/N walked casually over to her desk and set her purse down while Bruce put the code into his office door and stepped inside. There was a balloon attached to his desk chair, a cake that was clearly not from a bakery, and cards. 

He chuckled, looking through them. One from Rachel and Harvey Dent, one from Alfred, one from Lucious, one from Jack Drake (who he hadn’t spoken to in so long), and one from Y/N. Except it wasn’t just from Y/N; her brothers had signed it with little notes and doodles, and Carrie had signed a nice message as well. 

It was so simple, so homely, and wonderful.

“Happy Birthday,” Y/N appeared behind him with a couple of paper dessert plates.

He looked at her but said nothing. In the best way, he didn’t know what to say, and suddenly she became nervous.

“I know it’s not much, and you probably have friends planning something crazy, but,” she paused, unsure of herself, “it’s just… you didn’t really seem like you wanted a party.” 

Bruce chuckled quietly. “I don’t,” he said honestly. “I’ve had friends plan a few insane things over the years, and I’m grateful, but I never really felt like celebrating my birthday without-” He stopped, a little embarrassed. “I sound like a child.”

“You don’t,” she stepped over to him, bumping his shoulder with her own.

“Yeah, I do,” he mumbled.

“After my mother left, I tried to make birthdays special for my brothers, but my dad didn’t really celebrate, and neither did I,” she wasn’t sure why she was whispering. Maybe it was the close proximity between them, or maybe it was because she had never admitted what she was about to say aloud. “John, Carrie, even Russ, they all tried to make things special for me, but… I didn’t want to celebrate. I’d always leave early or fake a headache.”

“I didn’t know your mom left,” he replied back.

“I don’t really talk about it. It’s not like it’s a secret, but I don’t know. It feels so awkward to mention.”

“It’s awkward to mention your dead parents too,” he looked over at her, grinning. 

“At least you know they loved you,” she cringed like she regretted what she said. “Sorry, that was a lot.”

“I get it,” he said honestly.

“So, cake,” she quickly diverted the topic.

Bruce smiled. A real true smile, “Cake.”

@pank0w @moejoeflow @padsfirewhisky @maxinehufflepuffprincess @pastelsweaters-and-bubble-t @mariadvorak @100520s @st0rmyt

[wildemaven]

he makes life better | joel miller

-> pairing: no outbreak!joel miller x reader

-> word count: 1335

-> content warning: 18+ blog; bad day, annoyed with work, dealing with flat tire, joel being sweet, lots of fluff

-> note: this is for my sweet friend @gnpwdrnwhiskey hoping this brings a smile to her face 💞 this isn’t beta’d either so it’s probably filled with mistakes lol.

masterlist

Joel ❤️: How’s your day going Honey?

I’m so ready for my shift to be over. I’d rather read the dictionary, front to back, than deal with the shit they have me doing today. 

RING

“That bad, huh?” Joel’s voice brings you an instant smile when you answer his call, silently stepping away from the mess that you were dealing with at work. 

“You have no idea. It already feels like it’s been the longest week, today has just added to the shit show life keeps throwin’ at me lately. Went to leave for work this morning and I had a flat tire. Ugh! I’m sorry for complaining.” You vent to him, tucking yourself in a secluded corner. You were going against policy by taking a personal call while on the clock, but you didn’t care about company policy or the outcome of you were to get caught at the moment— Joel was your only focus right now. 

“Hey, none of that. Don’t apologize for being stressed. Why didn’t ya call me ‘bout your tire?” Joel asked. 

You know he would’ve dropped everything the minute did call him, which is also why you didn’t. He had been stressing over starting at a new job site, one of the biggest ones he had been hired for. The last thing you wanted was to add to his already busy day of things he had to deal with. 

“You’d already left for work and had that new job you’ve been talkin’ about. Didn’t wanna bother you with it. I called AAA and had them put the spare on for me so I could drop it off at the tire shop. Now, I’m unexpectedly the owner of 4 new tires.” 

“I don’t care how busy I am— you need something, you call me, no matter what. Got that, Honey?” 

“Got it, Joel. Thank you.” You smile into the phone at his concern for you, always finding ways to make you fall even deeper in love with him. 

“Good. Hey, I gotta go. Tommy looks like he’s about ready to break his back. I should probably go help him before he actually does and my insurance takes a hit. I’ll see ya tonight then, sweetheart?” 

“Yeah. I should be outta here in 3 hours.” The end to your long shift, almost over. 

“That sounds great! I love you, Honey. I’ll see ya later.” You can faintly hear Tommy cursing in the background. 

“Love you too, Joel.” You tell him before the line goes dead. Giving yourself a few minutes of quiet before heading back to join your team and the never ending line of customers. 

The rest of your shift goes by fairly quickly. Joel’s phone call must have been just the moral boost you needed to sprinkle a little bit of extra positivity into your day.

The minute the clock hit 5 pm, you wasted no time clocking out and logging out of your computer for the day. Deliberately bypassing your usual exit path to avoid any chatty coworkers, Joel and home your main focus of the rest of your day, you weren’t going to waste any time stuck in drawn out conversations. 

Your purse thrown over your shoulder, work apron crumpled in one hand and the other holding your empty tumbler that once held the warm delicious coffee you had hoped would sustain you through the day, now wishing it was filled with something a little stronger to help you unwind when you got home. 

It’s a struggle trying to juggle your things as you search for your keys, lost somewhere in the depths of your purse along with the rest of your life's necessities. You pause in the middle of an empty parking space near where your jeep is parked to give the search your full attention. After some thorough digging, you locate your keys and let out an exasperated sigh, one step closer to being home. 

Taking a step forward as you press the unlock button on your key, you look up to see an unexpected sight. A familiar truck in the parking spot next to yours, and the most handsome man leaning on it. He looks like he came straight from the job sight, too. His peppered grey hair disheveled, but his soft curls were still intact even after a long day. The sleeves of your favorite green flannel are rolled up over his flexed forearms that are crossed against his chest, the fabric stretched over his broad shoulders. 

The sight of him is enough to melt away any of the bullshit you had endured over the past week, a completely welcomed surprise. 

“What are you doing here?” You ask him, letting your feet carry you the rest of the way to him. 

“Heard you were havin’ a shitty day. Couldn’t let my lady end it on a bad note.” He croons, pushing himself off the side of his truck, opening his arms to you. 

You melt into him, your face nestled into his shoulder. His rugged scent of musky vanilla and natural pheromones is permanently infused into the fibers of his shirt, it’s your favorite thing ever. His strong arms wrap around you as he presses a soft kiss to your temple, prompting you to straighten up, looking into his amber eyes. 

“Hi, Cowboy.” You beam at him. 

“Hi.” He says, leaning in to gently mold his lips over yours. “I’ve got a surprise for ya, Honey.” 

“This was enough of a surprise for me. What more could I need?” Stealing another kiss from him. 

“If I tell ya, it won’t be a surprise then, will it?” He says, tilting his head slightly as he looks at you. 

“I guess you have a point.” 

“We’ve gotta get going though, it’s time sensitive.” He grabs for your things and walks you around to the passenger door, holding it open as you climb in. “We’ll grab your jeep in the mornin’, if that’s okay with you?” 

“Whatever you say, Cowboy.” He leans back in for another kiss, before making his way around into the driver’s seat. 

*

The drive isn’t long. Down some familiar roads that lead to a dirt one off the main highway. His truck travels down the gravel road lined with a barbed wire fence. After a few minutes he’s pulling off to the side and killing the engine. 

“You brought me to my favorite place.” Looking over to his side of the truck, where he’s already looking in your direction. Your heart grows at how he thought to bring you here, knowing how much joy it brings you every time. 

“Thought you could use it. Look, here they come.” He says pointing to your window. 

Off in the distance, the small herd of cows were in pursuit of their evening meal and water break. Mamas with their little rambunctious calves trailing behind, trekking along the same path they travel each evening. 

It’s a calming sight. Their heads bobbling with each dramatic step. Tails whipping over their rear ends to swat away the annoying flies. A few stopping mid trek to look in your direction, letting out a long drawn out moo. Their friendly hello, it’s good to see you again, then back on the move. 

The sky is painted in pinks and purples as the sun dips below the horizon. Your day feeling less shitty as you sit silently in the cab of Joel’s truck. His hand resting on your thigh while his thumb draws soft circles over thick denim seam. 

“Thank you for this. Didn’t realize how much I needed it. I love you, Joel.” You tell him, rolling your head over the headrest in his direction. 

“I did it because I love you, Honey. And s’what I’m here for.” There’s a low rumble in the air as he turns the key over, shifting the truck into drive. “Now, how ‘bouts we head on home and I spend the rest of the evenin’ show you all the other ways I love you?”

“Take me home, Cowboy.” 

[shiftingconfessions]

I will be pulling a wild one here

I am shifter before shiftok and shifting tumbler and so on, I was part of the firsts shifting plataforms to ever exist, the work of my friends and colleagues are diluted and changed in many methods the community still using today, or use and not yet know about it.

Shiftok is a lie. It is straight up a lie, more than half of accounts in there are lying, take the big 10 accounts all around the globe and you will see how deeply unsettling and ego blinded these ppl are.

I will share a lil secret to shifting on tumbler, most influencers KNOW that they are talking shit nowadays. The so proclaimed creators of shittok vanglorizes themselves for creating it, but deep down one was a absolute baby shifter and the other one knew her stuff but was caught in drama.

They both are part of the first shifting community ever, started on 2017, they were warned to use their voice to spread information but they decided to blind themselves and continue their fights and dramas.

Besides that, the modern Mainstream Shiftok is around money. TikTok monetizes creators and for these creators to have a base, they need people to watch their videos

Information is freedom, and there is no way to get the proper amount of needed information on shiftok, it is a short video app, we are discussing a experimental practice on reality switching.

Besides that, people now want to make you pay for shifting info, or manifestions courses, and so on

Let me tell a thing that sadly will make sense in the future: Shifting is free, shifting has always been free and those people do not have authority on the matter to even teach it

While the community has been improving, there is a lack on the shifter vanguard, on ACTUAL new stuff and an actual understanding behind shifting. Some people shift by oversimplifying things, others by hard looking into why's and hows, both are valid but they need to correspond to each other. If a community is too complex shifting becomes too hard, if a community is too simple shifting becomes a myth.

That is the state of the community, anyones out there who wants to understand why's and how's can't even find good bases since everything is gatekept and even the so called shifters from shiftok can't even understand it or desire to share it.

Therefore creating a community that is constantly a lie, people tell experiences that don't match when being re-telled and either make sense, many have been spotted doing so. Shifting changes someone, it is a trace marked on their minds forever, to fully shift is to be forever changed. Most people are either LDs or having false awakenings and calling it a day.

Besides all that people are fighting for stupid ideas. Being taboo, race changing was never a topic in our community before it began on shiftok. You know why? Because everyone knew that infinity selfs does not mean that you are equally in all realities, we all playing roles, if I am certain race in my Dr that is not the one I am in this reality, then I won't act like I am part of the minority in this reality.

As for the hypocrisies of these people, most accounts that moved this debate was being xenophobic on Portuguese and Spanish communities.

As an extra information, If you know Sunni Method, you should know that sunni was one of the first shifters (on our understanding of DR, WR and scripting) that created and sourced so many different shifting practices and helped the first gen of the community to understand the practice. She did not only proved shifting to the subliminal communities as well define a work that would be still being used today, the Sunni method is the basic for every method. And she is afro American, and for today terms, she would be changing her race depending on the reality.

For the people that keep making futile problematization on this topic, it shows that you never fully understood shifting and created fake scenarios on your mind to source a point that was never a actual point. Minorities need support on day to day life, not whatever people are believing on determined practice.

tw: mention on self harm

As for respawning, anti-respawing are a bunch of ungrateful. Respawning made the very much bases of modern shifting. And for the respawners that belief that it should end on self harm, you do not understand how respawning work and how delicate are the structured you about to mess. If you are suffering from any mental difficulties, search professional help and not spiritual help that often leads to bad escapism.

Going back

The individual journey of someone starts on the seed planted by the community they find shifting, the hard truth is that shifting isn't only a personal experience but a collective one. In another words the community state you get, is the seed of your journey. Before 2018 people had a hard time shifting because they could not understand what it was, a few years later the community achieved a gold state with sharing knowledge and methods (which the English community would constantly gatekeek to their siblings communities btw) and after the mainstreaming on TikTok shifting went down to a stone age.

People are debating either if they can or cannot do things. In shifting. The. Belief. Of. Infinity.

I can understand why baby shifters do these questions, but I see people on this community since 2020 and the ones from 2019 who end up on the wasteland of other social platforms, asking questions that are so OBVIOUS

You don't need to know everything, but for star sakes you NEED to understand the basics of the thing you are doing, what a script is and how to write one, a few methods and your own cosmological view settled down.

Shifting allows you to mix and match beliefs like a Lego set, do it for your personal journeys using what other have found in the past.

While people are degrating the community and locking good stuff a way, shifting gets every day harder and harder, becoming everytime a godfied event and a hard and thought task that only a few can achieve, that is the mindset that is being grown on the community.

Why the hell the overall community nowadays have less and less actual experiences that the community a few years ago?

For the future, I am not sure but I bet on the end of the practice in a few years, when outsiders "grow out of it". Some will shift, others will just move on with their spiritual journey and so on, the community slowly fading.

I am not here to bring a salvation message, I am so tired, I have been making so much for the last 5 years, trying so hard to archive, share and teach people about shifting, in a way that was forgotten and locked down.

I am permashifting soon, and I am posting what I know on the community where I learned shifting in my native language, this end up more in a vent and a warning to what is happening. Do not believe me if you do not want to.

As for the people that want to understand more, I really recommend for you to dig in the past, a hint is that shifting started on amino. ik it is a bad app but sometimes gems appears. Shifting predecessors (quantum immortality and dimensional jumping) are available on Reddit to be studied (see the archives version of D.J) but they don't fully translate to shifting. (do not use the reality shifting subreddit)

And leave the damned app that is TikTok, you may be laughing for 3 seconds with some random girl talking about draco, but would be way better to be in your dr. why would you let your mind rot?

Shifting is a spiritual practice sourced on scientific facts and theories, both may be fighting a lot but a thing that they have in common is digging stuff, dig and search like never before, the community and it's beliefs are open on the internet, sometimes all you need is to answer a few questions and you will be able to find a good plataform

Your journey will be good no matter what.

Happy shifting.

.

[fourmoony]

hi, I just wanted to let you know that reading your writing brings me so much comfort and joy. Today, I found out that the person I’ve liked for the longest time has a girlfriend, and it’s been hard to say the least. It also didn’t help that I read an unrequited love blurb featuring remus as soon as I got home 😭 I was just wondering if you’d be willing to write something where the reader assumes that remus doesn’t like her because he seems aloof, but is actually just nervous because he likes her so much. I am so appreciative of you and your beautiful work, as always 🤍

this made me tear up. your words are so kind, and are the push i needed this week to keep writing <3 never in a million years did i think anyone would think this about my writing. thank you.

i'm sorry to hear about your crush; unrequited love is a tricky and heavy feeling. i have no doubt you'll find your person, though. as someone who's had my fair share of heartache, i promise, it won't hurt forever. my friends think i'm crazy because my advice is always to just let it hurt. but one day you'll wake up and you'll have run out of hurt. and you won't even remember what you saw in them, anymore. sending love.

P.S. i suck at writing shy remus so this is more like silent, unreadable remus. idk i'm tired. hope this is okay!

---

remus lupin x f!reader - masterlist 1.2k words

cw - implied self esteem issues, smoking, drinking

Remus' thumping steps carry up the staircase only seconds after you call on him. You're facing the mirror when he arrives in the doorway, hair clasped to the side in one hand, and the other reaching aimlessly for the zip half way down the back of your dress. His eyes find yours over your shoulder in the reflection, a fond smile passing over his features when he steps through the threshold into your room.

"You look lovely." He comments, voice warm and smooth in the way that it always is.

Warm Remus, smooth Remus, so fond and kind, feels like home and everything familiar. His fingers are warm as he tugs gently at the zip, one hand placed on your shoulder for leverage. His touch is gentle, like he's afraid he might break you, and it lingers for only a moment when he's done. You swallow around the lump of want in your throat, the want for it to have lasted longer, the want for him to touch you and have it mean something. It doesn't do any good to want. Because you can't have, and you've had to deal with becoming okay with that fact.

"Thanks, Rem."

He nods, lips curled in on themselves like he wants to say something, a look in his eyes you've never been able to read. He says nothing, and he retreats with the promise to wait on you with the others in the living room. Remus does that a lot - refrains from the things he wants to say, stops himself short. You wish he wouldn't.

You're always wishing, wishing, wishing.

He keeps true to his word. Remus is waiting in the living room with Sirius, James, and a rather flustered looking Frank when you descend the staircase. It's only now you realise how lovely Remus looks in his suit. Partly because of how Sirius is wearing his - like he had a fight with it and lost. Remus stands when you appear, as if on instinct, and takes a step forwards. You smile, eyes catching on Frank who's looking at the clock like it's stealing time from before his very eyes. You suppose, in a way, it is.

"You okay?" You feel the need to ask, hint of a smile playing on your lips.

Frank looks alarmed by your question, a grimace on his face, "She's going to be there, isn't she? She's not going to, like, do a runner? Have you spoke to her today?"

James huffs a laugh, pats Frank on the shoulder rather heavily. The whiskey in his crystal tumbler splashes over the side and onto the rug. "Last I heard, Mary and Marlene had her pinned down in the make up chair, she tried, but they wouldn't let her."

Sirius barks a laugh. Frank scowls. He knows you're kidding. Alice Fortescue has been absolutely smitten for Frank Longbottom since she was thirteen. There's absolutely nothing that could stop her from walking down that aisle, today. Frank knows that as well as you do.

"Not helping." James decides, passes Frank a cigarette.

He mumbles something about not wanting to smoke inside and makes for the door. Remus gives James and Remus a pointed look, "Better make sure he doesn't do a runner, yeah?"

They're quick out the door like they actually believe Frank would ever do something like that. The only place he'd ever run to is Alice. And she'd have his balls for seeing her in her wedding dress before the ceremony. Remus gives you a familiar smile, a knowing smile, a smile he saves for you and you only. It feels like he's in on something you aren't when he smiles like that. Heat crawls up your neck, flowers wrap their way around you rib cage.

"You scrub up well, you know." Is all you manage to say, rather breathless.

Remus rolls his eyes, "I try."

A minute of amused silence, Remus passes you the glass of wine in his hand. The glass is warm from being in his clutch, but you drink from it anyway.

"I thought after the catering disaster this wedding wasn't going to happen." Remus admits, looking out of the living room window at where Frank paces the length of the front path, working his way through his second cigarette. Alice will have your head for allowing such a thing.

You hum a disagreement, eyes roaming Remus' face, it's so soft, so beautifully shaped. You've no idea why he hates his scars so much. They only outline his best qualities. The one over the bridge of his perfectly sloped nose, the one under his beautiful amber eyes, the one along his sharp cheekbones, and your favourite one: the one across his cupids bow, defining his soft, pink lips. It's a shame, really, that Remus Lupin thinks so little of himself. You'd give him the world should he only ask.

"I think nothing can stop a love like that," You murmur, soft and quiet, voice thick with something, "Not even a shoddy caterer."

Remus' eyes leave the front garden, meet with yours in a way that always makes heat explode in your chest. He's too much to look at, sometimes. It physically hurts.

"You always have such a positive outlook on life."

You laugh, shoulders shrugging, "Suppose it's habit."

"From?"

"Keeping you miserable lot from giving up all together?" You offer, smiling over the rim of your wine glass.

Remus laughs, genuine and unashamed. "Tell you what, at our wedding, I promise to be the one keeping everything together, how about that?"

He seems to flinch after that, like he's physically pained by the words coming out of his mouth. You flinch, too. The flowers around your rib cage wilt and pull tighter all in one go, a frown pulling at your lips.

"I wasn't aware we were getting married."

Remus smiles like he's in pain, "Yeah, well, step one would actually be asking you on a date, but I'm a right twat who's mucked all that up."

There's something self deprecating about him. You don't like it. Remus Lupin deserves the world. You'll give him the world. You didn't think he wanted that from you, though. But you smile, gentle and sweet in a way you hope he'll like. It feels like something shifts. Maybe the stars begin to write a story about you both. Maybe the sun stops it's rotation just for a second to watch you both.

The wedding car pulls up outside and Remus, seemingly eager to back away from the situation he's created, slams his own drink down on the table and makes for the door.

"Remus," You call after him, he turns, "I'd marry you."

You offer him a lopsided smile. His eyes search your face for any sign of a joke. He finds none. You hope he understands what you mean.

"How about a date first?" He asks.

You release a breath, a laugh, a smile. It feels like you're floating.

"Sure, yeah. That first."

The front door swings open and Sirius barges his way past Remus, panicked and disheveled, "I've lost the fucking rings!"

Remus sighs, hand in his pocket, hands Sirius the red velvet box, "Here."

You're laughing all the way down the path, shoulder brushing Remus', the start of something new.

[madelynraemunson]

CALL ME WHAT YOU WANT 𓆩♡𓆪

(Book #1 of the Hellfire Gentlemen's Club)

(strip club owner!eddie x fem!exotic dancer!hargrove!x reader)

𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐍 𝐀𝐔 18+ only, minors i am ON PATROL

Chapter 011: Wolf in Sheep’s Clothing

Movie night is cut short when Billy and Eddie both show up to your door in search of compromise.

↳ chapters: 001, 002*, 003** , 004**, 005 , 006 , 007* , 008**, 009, 010, 011, 012* , 013**, 014**, 015, 016**, 017, 018, 019, 020*

somewhat smut = *

smut =**

word count: 4.5k words

disclaimers — eddie’s bruised lil face, billy’s bruised face, no one is beating the living daylights out of the other this time. 😵‍💫 just a lot of ✨ fluff ✨ and you guessed it… ANGST , traumatic flashback, max being a mastermind with her plotting & scheming 👀

“My head is saying ‘Fool, forget him!’, my heart is saying ‘Don’t Let Go’…”

♡

Isabelle Munson is a menace and a half.

It’s obvious that Eddie’s ex wife married him for one thing and one thing only: his money. And, when caught in her web of lies, Isabelle quickly threw him under the bus to cover her trail.

“What, are you trying to take over Hellfire or something?”

It’s no wonder why Eddie freaked out on you like that. The clinginess and need for control over your ‘situationship’ probably set off all the necessary alarms in his head. Even though Eddie probably knew your intentions, he didn’t want to risk the possibility of another Isabelle. After all, she too started as an employee.

POP! Snap! Fizz…

Max pours a can of soda into her ice cold tumbler. She stirs it around before taking a few sips.

"Your boss’s ex wife sounds like a bitch," she comments.

"The biggest bitch," you shake your head. "I’m reading up on all the tea right now."

A paramour for control, Isabelle’s calling to make Hellfire all about her started affecting the work-life balance. So, Eddie sent her to NDA Gentlemen’s Club in order to keep their affairs separate. But then a romantic affair began to brew between Isabelle and Terry, the owner and actual culprit behind the scandal. And of course that opened up another can of worms.

“Why would Isabelle wanna put Eddie behind bars instead of the guy who actually tried to sex traffic her?” Max inquires.

“Terry Hobb was already gonna be arrested,” you discover. “If Eddie went under too, Isabelle would likely be entitled to his assets while he’s locked up. Probably what she wanted all along.”

Framing Eddie for a crime. Something that’s so easy to do in Hawkins.

Like Billy said, Eddie coming from a long line of criminals did NOT help his case. Drug dealer, murderer. Con-man and arsonist. Eddie being someone who trafficked the vulnerable would be easy to believe, especially in a town full of conservative women who were tired of their husbands coming home late — and drenched in glitter.

To bear the Munson name is not exactly a blessing. Even the woman Eddie made a Munson managed to do him dirty.

There’s another kind of wolf that Mom never warned you about: the one dressed in white — the wolf in sheep’s clothing.

“This is all so awful,” you swallow hard, finally planting your phone face down onto the kitchen table.

And now Eddie’s business is in jeopardy again. All thanks to two volatile Hargroves who have no sense of self control.

"Why do I feel like there's something there?"

Max brings you back to earth. When you turn, she’s smirking at you.

“What do you mean?” you ask her.

“Oh come on,” Max rolls her eyes. “You seem really bothered by this. And Eddie beat THE LIVING SHIT out of Billy. Doesn’t seem like he does it for just any employee.”

You feel yourself blushing. Not only that but Eddie never fights anybody, period. He’s always called on Henry to do all the dirty work for him.

But Eddie knew about Billy and how powerless he made you feel. Seeing your abuser meandering so comfortably around his establishment was probably the last straw.

“There…might be something,” you confirm. “It’s hard though. Eddie doesn’t wanna commit.”

“Well after a marriage that traumatizing I wouldn’t either,” Max shrugs. “I’d be deathly afraid of women for the rest of my life.”

She walks over to grab the two bowls of popcorn that you guys heated up for everybody. You two, along with Vicky and Robin, are having a movie night to wind down from all the chaos. Tonight’s choice is Grease.

"Alright kiddos, camp is almost set up!" Robin dances her way into the kitchen. "We ready for some Grease Lightnin'?"

Max swoons as she adds some more key ingredients to her popcorn. "Hell yeah! Love me some Travolta and showtunes."

“What are you doing?” Robin asks, watching your sister douse your shared popcorn bowl with cayenne pepper and lime.

“A lil California spin on mine and Sissy's popcorn,” Max shrugs. “A squeeze of lime and some tajín. Well — cayenne pepper — since we don’t have any."

“That’s outrageous.”

“Wait till you see what we do with street corn,” you gush, dreaming about elote.

“Oh god…” Robin goes pale white.

“No really, Robin! It’s pretty good,” you insist.

“Not that!” Robin shakes her head. She points out the window. “That…”

You turn in the direction that Robin points in, which is outside towards the street.

Billy.

“Billy,” you gasp silently.

Your brother is parked along the curb, climbing out of his rental car with a little pep in his step. You watch as he checks his, relatively bruised, appearance, tugging at his hair and giving his clothes one last pat-down before making his way over.

Concerned footsteps dart their way into the kitchen. Vicky looks just as mortified as Robin.

"Do y'all see this?" Vicky questions.

Everyone nods to validate.

"How does Billy know where we live?!" you demand turning to the only other person here who has his phone number.

Guilt spreads across Max's face. As mortified as you are, you can't blame her. The fucked up parts of yourself would've done the same thing. You and Billy were in dire need of a heart to heart.

"You guys need to talk," Max explains what you're thinking. "I'm not letting him leave without at least a word or two. He agreed to be civil when I texted him."

"Thanks," you mumble. "I would've done the same."

Anyone who didn't fully understand the dynamic would've thought you and Max were crazy. But there is a part of you that will always love Billy.

Billy’s getting closer now. You can hear him clearing his throat from outside.

“So are we going to need the fire department too?” Robin asks, phone readily in hand.

“Most likely,” Vicky shrugs.

“No one’s calling anybody,” you instruct. “At least not yet. Let’s just see what he wants first.”

Billy's at the door now and you have no choice but to answer. You swing it open before he could even get a knock in, knuckle floating in mid-air but slowly drifting back down when he sees you in front of him.

Your big brother. At least by two minutes.

“Sup,” Billy greets you, almost jokingly. He flashes you a peace sign. Hi. I come in peace.

“You look awful.”

“Yeah, mosh pits aren’t really my scene,” he takes a sly jab at Eddie.

He requests entry into your new humble abode to which you deny. Billy backs down without question. So instead you walk out into the porch and close the door behind you.

“Before you press charges,” you preface. “I just want you to know how hardworking, kind, and empathetic Eddie i-”

Billy stops you with a raised hand. “I’m not…pressing charges.”

You’re almost stunned. “You…you’re not?”

“No,” Billy’s eyes are sullen. “I started it.”

“Eddie threw the first punch,” you point out. “If anything all you did was provoke him, which obviously won’t hold up well for him in court-”

“I…” Billy insists. “…started it.”

You don’t question it anymore because you can sense aggression brewing. And you preferred to talk to Billy when he’s calm like this.

Both of you take a seat right on the porch stairs. You can feel Vicky, Robin, and Max staring from inside.

“I deserved it,” Billy shakes his head. “And everything else coming to me for what I’ve done.”

“You don’t deserve it,” you try to convince him — and even yourself — of what you’re saying.

“YOU don’t even believe that,” Billy says, seeing through the bullshit. “Just fucking save it, okay?”

It's not like you can deny it any longer. Billy is the reason why you and Max are in this situation.

“I could’ve killed Max if I had been any more careless,” Billy grieves. “All because, what, she threw a box at me? And punched a hole in the wall because I said shit that made her do it. What I did made me lose everything I had left. Made me lose you guys."

Accountability, that's the first step. You turn away from him, refusing to believe this new change of heart.

"I didn’t honor your wishes to be left alone or at least given a little space..." he continues. "Showed up to your safe space and overstayed my welcome. And it blew up in front of me. Probably shattered my septum too."

"Do you see now?" you choke. "Do you see why we can't live with each other?"

"I'm sure we can, we just gotta change our ways."

"We've been trying to change our ways since Dad and Sue left!" you hiss. "Since Mom died, since the first crack in the glass. We change, but it just evolves into something worse."

Crickets on Billy's end. You can tell he's sitting with the words, no matter how uncomfortable they feel. But that alone is another big step.

You turn to stroke his face. He closes his eyes in dismay, soaking in all the affection radiating off your delicate, trembling hands.

“Look at what we do to each other, Billy," you plead. "It's not like this when we're apart."

Billy opens his eyes. They’re glistening with tears.

You fill him in on the friends you've made in Hawkins. How much your bank account grew. The payments you’ve caught up on since stripping at Hellfire. How you and Max sleep comfortably through the night. After what seems like forever.

Life is beautiful without Billy. As much as you didn’t want that to be true.

Billy finally speaks again. “What happened to us?”

“I don’t know,” you shake your head. “And until we can both get our shit together, we need to stay away from each other.”

And now it’s 1998. You and Billy are four years old, playing tug-o-war over the last chocolate chip cookie in the jar.

CRASH! went the jar when it fell to the floor.

You’re both in trouble now. Or so you thought.

Billy ended up winning this round, scurrying off with the cookie while you attempted to sweep the broken shards of glass away. But knowing Billy had gotten a beating several days prior — it was BAD this time — you decided to take all the blame.

“Say ‘Sorry Daddy’ right now,” your father ordered after three aggressive spanks to your backside.

Bent across his lap, you bite your tongue as he issues two more spanks with his large, calloused hands. It was sure to leave a mark.

“SAY IT,” Dad roared.

But you weren’t sorry. So it came out strained.

“‘m sorry Daddy,” you sniff. “And I’m sorry… Billy.”

The last word wasn’t worth it. It was never worth it.

Your buttcheeks were burning, eyes stinging with salty, resentful tears as Dad continued to use you as an outlet for his rage. When you thought it was over, Dad chucked you off his lap, pulling you by the hair to toss you against the wall like it was some dodgeball game at the Y.

Billy’s eyes watched in horror. Your eyes burned into his as he poked his curious head out from the wall he was hiding behind.

“Doing it for you,” you mouthed to him.

Later that night, your bruised behind hobbled side to side to your shared room after your bedtime routine. To your pleasant surprise, there was something waiting for you on a small plate at the foot of your bed.

The last chocolate chip cookie.

You and Billy never apologized to each other back then. So acts of service like saving each other the last sweet treat made for a good alternative.

Billy walked over to you as you fawned over the last cookie. You turned to him in disbelief.

“I thought you ate it,” you smiled.

“No, I was saving it,” Billy lied. “All for you, Sissy.”

“It used to be us against the world,” Billy recalls. “As cheesy as that shit sounds.”

“But now it’s just...not,” you point out. “We just can’t be in each other’s lives. We gotta love each other from afar, Billy. At least until we can figure out how to be civil with each other.”

Billy doesn’t speak for a while. Instead he takes a look around the neighborhood. The tall trees that decorate the telephone poles. The flat land that perfectly accentuates the edge of the horizon. The fresh air, slightly corrupted with the overpowering scent of Marlboro. It’s no quaint beach town, but there was something about it that screamed “home” in no way San Diego can.

“Are you sure this is something you wanna do?” Billy questions you, referring to your job. “It’s not a safe gig, sis.”

“I can handle it,” you insist. “It’s temporary anyways.”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this…” he sighs. “But I’m proud of you… ass and tits out and all.”

“Gee thanks,” you joke as you nudge him. “I’m glad I have your approval.”

After a while, you two finally stand up and make your way inside. Max is reluctant to walk towards Billy when he walks in, but that same invisible cord inclines her to do so anyway.

“You still don’t like me, huh?” Billy infers.

Max crosses her arms. “How can I?”

A timid smile forms across Billy’s face. “But you don’t hate me?”

Max repeats her sentiment. “How can I?”

She runs to him and snakes her arms tightly around his waist and he swings her around. Max giggles like a child when he playfully ruffles her hair.

“Seriously, how can I?” she questions. “I’d really like to take an expert class on how to hate you.”

Billy chuckles. “You need money for school books?”

“No, Sis got me on that.”

“Of course she does,” Billy says, peering over at you. “You’re in good hands.”

You formally introduce your brother to Robin and Vicky but it’s an awkward ordeal. Can't expect your good friends to get along with the person whose choked you out on multiple occasions throughout most of your life. Slapped you around as well. Pulled your hair and tainted your body black and blue. Calls you "bitch" and "slut" wherever he sees fit. But still loves you with everything he's got. And you, him.

Trauma is a weird thing.

Billy didn’t intend to stay for long, so he sees himself out shortly after that.

“Alright, I’ll text you when I leave,” Billy announces. “Call me. Please. If you two need anything.”

“Okay,” you smile. “We’ll be sure to answer this time too whenever you call.”

Billy gives you a half-assed salute as he swings the door open. He nearly shifts himself backwards when an unexpected surprise greets him at the door.

Eddie.

Standing 5-foot-10 with a face full of contusions and cat-like scratches is your boss. Eddie cringes when he sees Billy, eliciting a similar reaction from your brother the moment they register each other.

The silence is deafening.

There’s an urge to pick up where they left off, but both men refrain from doing so for your sake. Billy stomps off, shaking his head without meeting Eddie’s eyes.

Eddie turns to you. Waits until Billy is out of earshot to speak.

“You’re right about your brother being a douche."

You laugh. Eddie gives you that puppy dog pout with his chocolate brown eyes. You want to forget about him so bad. You want to let him go. But your heart is yearning for more.

“Do you still hate me?”

“Kinda,” you shrug. “But less so by the minute.”

“I deserved that.”

You can’t help it anymore. Eddie tries his best not to wince when you fall into him, wrapping your arm around his waist and burying your head in his chest.

He rubs your back gently before ruffling your hair. Then he plants a gentle kiss onto your forehead. It launches you into squeezing him tighter.

“You okay?” he mumbles.

You nod into his chest and he strokes your hair, allowing you all the time you need to let you guard down.

“How long is he staying in town?”

“Forgot to ask,” you answer him honestly. “Probably not for long.”

“You should board up your windows just in case,” Eddie says half-jokingly. “Install a few more locks. Probably a few cameras.”

You tsk. “Okay, I don’t think I need to get that carried away.”

“Fine,” Eddie shrugs. “Of course I can always stay the night too.”

His fingers dance up the small of your back, causing you to inhale sharply out of arousal.

“Protect you a lil more…” he continues.

“Yeah I don’t think so, Munson,” Robin clears her throat, knowingly interrupting the sappy moment you’re sharing. “Movie night is for the girls only.”

“You know I can always leave it to you to cock-block, Buckley,” Eddie laughs. It’s a reminiscent one. “Thought your silhouette looked familiar at Hellfire.”

Your eyes dart between them both.

“You guys know each other?!”

“We all went to school together,” Vicky explains, coming back into sight as well. “The three of us were all in the same band class at one point.”

“Until ‘Dungeons’ over here thought he was too cool for us,” Robin adds. “And started his own band.”

“I was always a lil eccentric, wasn’t I?” Eddie winks. “Thanks for remembering. Though Corroded Coffin is all a distant memory now.”

“So that means you guys went to school with Steve too?” you direct your question towards Robin and Vicky.

Vicky raises an eyebrow. “Steve? Like… Steve Steve? Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington?”

“You know King Steve?” Robin scoffs, completely baffled. She crosses her arms in amusement.

“Oh she knows King Steve,” Eddie smirks. “Knows him real well.”

“Jealous much?” you quip.

“I plead the fifth,” Eddie mutters.

“And I plead that we all know less and less about each other,” Max sighs. You almost forget that she’s there. “If you’ll excuse me.”

The girlfriends follow Max back into their room to continue with movie night. Now you’re left alone again with Eddie.

You stare up at him.

“Are you okay?”

“Just a couple ruffled feathers, I’ll be fine,” he dismisses your concern.

"You've got a great deal of damage control to do when we go back.”

“Eh,” Eddie shrugs. “Wouldn’t be the first time my business was in trouble.”

You laugh and roll your eyes.

“And for as long as you’re along for the ride? This probably won’t be my last.”

“Swinging at my estranged family members, my hero my hero,” you joke, finding yourself leaning into him further.

And then you kiss him. It's your first advance in a while that Eddie doesn't shy away from. He kisses you back, with an ignited passion that surpasses even the electricity from Saturday in his van. It's an aching, and a longing.

His lips interlace ever so comfortably with yours. He's missed you so. And you missed him too. Even when you were being irrationally jealous over Nina.

“Gettin’ me in so much trouble, Hargrove,” Eddie grazes your back as he slowly pulls away.

And your eyes can’t help but trail down to his hands. Knuckles bloody, fingers absent of any rings for once, tan lines on all but one special finger.

“Did you love Isabelle?”

Eddie stares at you like you’re insane.

"Of course I did,” he insists. “She was my wife. There were some warning signs that she was after my money though, but I was too stubborn to believe it was true.”

You nod.

"But now you know," Eddie grins in exhaustion. “Now you know why I’m guarded. Because like you, even Isabelle looked like a dream”. He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear as he mumbles, “Too good to be true.”

Your heart shatters for him.

“You need to start saying what’s really on your mind,” you say to him. “Speaking up, asking for help. I’m tired of watching you fight battles alone.”

“Then don’t look,” Eddie jokes. One second later and he’s back to being serious. “It’s pretty hard to trust people when they prove to you time and time again why you shouldn’t.”

He steals some popcorn from your bowl, tossing it up into the air. It successfully lands in his mouth.

“Besides. I’ve come this far without anyone, but Wayne’s, help. And I turned out fine.”

You glare at him.

“Couple scrapes and bruises,” he continues, alluding to his scuffle with Billy. “But I’m fine.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

Eddie offers you a look.

“What, you think I’m bluffing?”

“No,” the pitch in your voice heightens. “I just think…a healed person would let a little love in.”

Then those sad doe eyes meet you again, the kind of gaze that would cause anyone to go weak in the knees. You swallow hard.

“Please be patient with me,” Eddie mumbles. “I’m really trying.”

“I know you are,” you rub his arm. “We don’t have to rush into anything.”

You both lean into each other again, the need to have and be with each other a palpable energy between your torsos. You beam up at him as you run your fingers down his hair.

“I am ready for something though,” Eddie proposes. “I’d like to keep whatever this is going.”

“I’d like that too,” you heart begins to flutter.

You picture yourself grocery shopping at Meijer with Eddie. He’d push for you to buy desserts, but you’d remind him that he needs veggies in his life. You see yourselves going to the pumpkin patch as autumn approaches and taking goofy Polaroids by the scarecrows. And it’s like he’s already in front of you on Christmas, his tongue poking out slightly — like it always does when he’s deeply focused on something — as he fixates on making his gingerbread house a gingerbread home. And when the ball drops on New Year’s Eve, he is going to be your kiss, dipping you like the one sailor did with the nurse in that one iconic picture of the world war being over. And then you two would recreate that same pose when you take him back home to experience a San Diego summer.

A romance for the books.

“Just…sex and quickies all the time!” Eddie speaks, instantly yanking you out of your daydream. “Smoking together…asking each other about our day…cuddling, in the nude…”

Suddenly, Eddie’s cock-blocked himself with his fantasy that he revealed to you. The familiar tinge in your chest returns again.

“Oh…hooking up is what you meant,” you nod.

“Duh, what else?”

You swallow hard again. So now you know what this is all about. You know now what he really saw when he looked at you.

“So… just purely sex. I gotcha.”

“Whoa, don’t put it like that,” Eddie grimaces. “It sounds bad. We’ll get to the titles eventually, I just gotta dip my toes in first.”

“I don’t want you dipping any of you in anything,” you glare at him with disgust. “Sorry but for a while I thought you liked me for me.”

“I do, Shy Girl,” Eddie insists. “I’m just not ready for titles yet. We literally just got done talking about that.”

“Oh, but you wanna keep me around as a fuck doll, that’s it?”

“Don’t act like you don’t have needs yourself…” he protests.

“Yeah and Steve is meeting those needs,” you hiss. “The reason I’m bouncing between you guys is because Steve is my fuck buddy, but I’m willing to let him go if you want to be exclusive with me. Which I don’t get why you won’t call it exclusive if that’s theoretically the case.”

But should’ve known Eddie only saw you as a booty call. You two hang out at nighttime, flirt, and touch each other too often for that to not be a case. And, of course, when something else catches his eyes, Eddie moves on and simply pays you no mind.

“I thought you saw this going somewhere,” you scoff as you cross your arms. “Beyond a mattress and the back of your van.”

“I thought I saw this going somewhere too,” Eddie shrugs bitterly. “But now that you mention it, someone who is always questioning my intentions without letting me explain myself doesn’t deserve the title anyways.”

Could Eddie stomp on your heart any more?

Did he just expect you to wait around for him? Did he expect you to run around with ‘Reserved For Eddie’ while he decided how much of himself to give you on whatever day? None of it is fair. But Eddie doesn’t play fair. He just calls the shots, as always.

And to think the two of you would come to any sort of compromise tonight.

“Goodnight, Eddie.”

“Hargr-”

“Good…night… Eddie.”

“The power you’re supplying… it’s electrifying.”

Defeated, you end up excusing yourself from the rest of movie night and lugging yourself to your room. Max is in the room too, a huge surprise considering John Travolta was metaphorically a room over.

“Oh she is cuuute,” Max raves.

She’s talking about the red lingerie set from Nocturna, you realize when you drag your feet into your room.

“Thanks,” you shrug sheepishly, taking the set back from jet. “Eddie bought it for me to wear actually.”

You take the set in your hands and smooth it out just a little. It’s such a pretty set. Now it’s just collecting dust, a shame because you loved how amazing you looked and felt in it.

“Why don’t you wear it to Hellfire?” Max suggests. “I’m sure Henry would love it if you did for his dance in a couple days.”

“You want me to wear it for Henry?” you scoff. “That’s a no. Eddie doesn’t wanna see me wearing that specific set for anyone else but him.”

“Hmmm,” Max thinks. “We’re talking about the same Eddie. Right? Eddie ‘Non-Committal’ Munson?”

You smirk. She smirks. Your sister is a genius.

If Eddie truly doesn’t want to commit to you and make you his, then there is no need for you to commit to him either.

And the DEVIL WOMAN set is clearly no exception. There’s no need for a hot outfit like that to go to waste.

“I’m picking up what you’re putting down…” you grin, a rather wolf-in-sheep’s-clothing grin.

Max rubs her evil little fingers together. “Figured you might.”

“TELL ME ABOUT IT!” you two hear Robin and Vicky yell from their room. “STUD!”

And ‘You’re The One That I Want’ starts blaring through the speakers.

Its a shame that you and Max were missing your favorite part of the entire movie. But you two have your own revenge plot in the works.

And you, you’ve got your own dance number to practice. A dance for the One that you want. In this case, it’s Henry.

“You better shape up because I need a man. And my heart is set on you.”

Oh Eddie…

Let the mental gymnastics begin.

—————————

author's note: when eddie goes low, shy girl goes lower…. do you guys think eddie will be mad seeing shy girl dancing for henry in the red set he bought her? 🤔😈

—————————

🏷️ tag list: @battymunson , @the-fairy-anon , @ali-r3n , @corrodedcoffincumslut , @bebe07011 , @mmunson86 , @eddiesguitarskills , @chelebelletx , @imonhereforareasonsadly , @eddies-trailer-babe @hideoutside , @motherfckerr , @jxps i , @munson-magic , @lindseyj23, @sidthedollface2 , @manda-panda-monium , @elvendria , @micheledawn1975 , @hereforshmut , @siriuslysmoking , @nymphetkoo , @m-chmcl-rmnc , @justinelittlewoodsworld , @ahoyyharrington , @keepittoyourselftellnobodyelse @kellyxo1 @emsgoodthinkin @winchester-angel @chloe-6123 , @redbarn1995 @angietherose @kiyastrf94 , @purplewitchcauldron

[canisalbus]

Just recently discovered your tumbler and I love everything about it. Your art style, the time period you have chosen, the background you are building for the characters. Top notch.

Though I do have a question : going back through all the asks people are tending to focus on sunny boi Vasco supporting nerve wracked Machete but a relationship needs to be equal so, what's the turn around?

When/how does Machete say 'don't worry babe, I've got this'? He is after all a very accomplished and competent person inside his areas of expertise.

Because of his trusting and altruistic nature, Vasco has been burned in relationships before. Even though he's good at reading people and might sense that he's being treated unfairly, he endures it because he doesn't want to be the bad guy and upset the other person. He's from a well known noble family, he's affluent and he's considered to be very good looking. Over the years he has met countless people who wanted to take advantage of him, his status and his assets in a way or another, and he has hard time tolerating that kind of greed and dishonesty. Machete has never been interested in his pedigree or wealth, and the way he's utterly devoted to him makes Vasco feel confident and secure.

He's been forced into various boxes and moulds all his life, his family had high expectations for him and did their hardest to whip him into a shape that satisfied them (now that I think about it, Vasco's parents probably would've been proud if their son turned out more like Machete, hard working high achiever). He tries to not let it bother him, but on some level he does feel guilty for letting them down. Machete is Vasco's biggest fan, he earnestly believes in him and loves him the way he is. He feels like he doesn't have to pretend to be something he's not around him, but at the same time Machete's influence makes him want to be a better person. Vasco admires his ambition, knowledge, diligence and perseverance. Machete tries very hard to be a good person and do a good job, but because he's so difficult to get close to and puts up such a cold facade, his efforts tend to go unnoticed. Vasco sees this side of him and finds it very charming.

Machete could use a lot of tlc and Vasco is happy to be there to provide it. The fact he's able to have such a profound positive effect on someone and their quality of life makes him feel needed, he feels like he's contributing something good to the world and that gives him strength. It's not like his only job is to pat Machete's head and tell it's going to be alright though, they enjoy each other's company and feel at ease together. In a way Machete also has a calming effect on Vasco. On his good days he can be very pleasant company, he's interesting to talk to, he's kind and gentle and even awkwardly funny at times, he has an eye for beauty and is able to appreciate small good things in their lives. He isn't an expert in expressing his affection physically, but when he does, Vasco can trust that his attempts are authentic.

Machete may not always know the correct words and gestures to comfort him, but he's a good listerer and does his best to be there for him. He never belittles or makes fun of him, he's patient and forgiving when Vasco makes mistakes, and will drop everything if he's ever in a need of help. He often makes Vasco feel seen and understood like no one else. Machete is good at solving dilemmas and coming up with working solutions (or preventing problems from ever arising, more often than not), and Vasco has the nerves of steel to keep him grounded and stable at a time of crisis. Together they make a very efficient and resourceful team.

Their jobs are very similar, Machete works for the church and Vasco is a secular politician, but they both deal with diplomacy and foreign relations. They end up working together often, and since Machete is very competent in what he's doing, he often ends up helping and advising Vasco.

I think despite their differences, they're just very well in tune with each other. In the ways that actually matter, they have common interests, tastes and worldviews. They enjoy similar things. And the parts that differ tend to augment them instead of driving them apart. A lot of their fondness stems from the fact they have a lot of shared history, they met at a young age and their friendship-turned-romantic was a very formative experience for both.

Should it be necessary, Machete would face God and walk backwards into hell to protect Vasco.

[bloodyserratus]

aural fixation

pairing: nanami x fem!reader word count: 11.5k synopsis: kento never knew that ino had a sister. and when he finally meets you, he can't help but feel like there's something so familiar about you... themes/warnings: SMUT! mdni. she/her pronouns, reader is a virtual sex worker (erotic audios, camming, etc.), dommy!nanami, subby/bratty!reader. lil bit of daddy kink, mentions of restraints, domesticity/apron kink? there's a lot of smut and plot. phonesex.

a/n: ...how did this get so LONG?!?!! 😵‍💫 i'm so happy it's out of my brain.

You tapped your chin as you scrolled through notifications. A handful of comments, two new subscribers, and two direct messages. The DMs were spam, so you went to check the results of your recent poll for top tier subscribers. It was time for your monthly, limited audience live stream and you had offered up a few dates and times. The results were quite split this time, which concerned you, but Friday at 7:30 pm had won by a few votes, so you went ahead and created an event.

A smile snuck onto your lips when you noticed that ken73 had voted for the chosen timeslot. It was probably just confirmation bias, but you felt like ken73 always voted when you put out polls. Part of this was likely because he was your longest time subscriber, so you were most familiar with his username. Reality or not, you were glad for the support. He had been a consistent lifeline when you’d first started this work out of necessity to support yourself and your younger brother, Takuma.

Takuma was older now, and though you didn’t exactly understand what his job was, it meant he could be self reliant. Similarly, you really didn’t need the income from virtual sex work anymore, but something about it kept you engaged. Whether it was sheer boredom or the freedom of being able to explore your sexuality on your terms, you’d stayed active enough to generate a decent little income stream while it still stayed fun.

‘see you next friday!~’ you captioned a photo of yourself.

In it you were wearing a new set of lingerie. In the grand scheme of things, it was relatively modest, but you hoped it served the purpose of piquing your subscribers’ interest.

…

Kento loosened his tie as he walked into his apartment. It had been a long day. Meetings with Principal Yaga and training with the students at Tokyo Jujutsu High. The training really wasn't nearly as challenging as dealing with Gojo, their teacher. As much as Kento cared for and trusted Gojo, he had never not found himself irked at the end of the day by his shenanigans.

He sighed as he scrolled through his notifications. He made quick work of it, marking items read and flagging things for follow up. His eyebrows raised when he saw the notification for your livestream. Friday at 7:30 pm. He quickly created an event on his calendar so as not to forget.

A soft smile settled on his lips as he examined the photo you’d posted with the announcement. He’d been subscribed to you for so long that the swells and curves of your shape were familiar like old friends and yet, like an old friend, it still brought him joy to see them. His eyes traced the lace lines of your lingerie, but ultimately he found himself fixated on the shape of your chin. For all of the suggestive and sexual ways in which he’d been able to consume you, he had never seen your face. He understood the safety boundaries that you had to maintain, but it didn’t mean he didn’t wonder.

Wonder whether your pleading and begging would be accompanied with round, doe eyes, like he imagined, or a shape more similar to a cat or fox. Wonder what color hair he might find himself with a handful of, in an alternate universe where he was lucky enough to enjoy you in the flesh. Wonder exactly which kinks were yours and which were just good customer service.

“Hmm,” Kento exhaled and stood to pour himself a drink. All this thinking had left him straining against the front of his briefs.

He set his glass tumbler down before undoing his belt buckle. The tendons in his fingers flexed deftly before it came undone with a quiet ‘shhhhhk’. He popped open the button at his waistband before sitting back down. Kento turned on the television in his living room and cast photos from his phone onto it. An album of his favorites was easily summoned at his fingertips and he palmed himself through his zipper as he flipped them.

“Shit,” he groaned, hips bucking slightly, as he arrived at one of his favorites.

It was actually a screenshot of one of his favorite streams. You’d just been in the middle of checking comments, so it wasn’t the most explicit image that he had of you, but something about the way your tits threatened spilled out of your bra as you’d used the mouse had entranced and haunted him until this day.

Kento took his glasses off and set them aside before he unzipped himself slowly. He felt the teeth of the zipper unlatch, delaying gratification slightly, before he pulled himself out. He was thick and heavy in his own palm and already shiny with precum. He spread the slick across his tip with the pad of his thumb and inhaled sharply at the sensation. He dragged his fingers up and down his hard shaft slowly, thinking of how soft your hands would be compared to his. His thighs tensed as his precum spread, making each pass silkier and smoother than the last.

After a few more thrusts up into his face, Kento needed more. He navigated to your audio scenarios and pulled up one of his favorites. ‘Don’t Be So Mean to Me…it Makes Me Really Wet’. Kento had to roll his eyes a little at the title, but it was one of his favorite flavors of you. Whiny, submissive, and playing right into some kinks that he was slightly in denial about having. He scrubbed through the intro…he’d heard it so many times that he could’ve recited it for you.

‘s-stop’ your recorded voice sounded in his apartment.

‘do you always have to tease me like that?’

“You like it,” Kento growled, fist tight around his cock at your airy moans.

‘you’re right, I do’ you giggled, ‘is that bad of me? you’re so mean to me and it just,’ your voice hitched here, ‘...it just makes me leak.’

Kento closed his eyes and shook his head.

‘no? you…you know it does?’ you asked, surprise clear in your voice. ‘do you…do you do it to me on purpose? i-’

He imagined your eyes flashing up at him, eyes wide and pupils wider as you squirmed below him.

‘why?’ you asked in a tiny voice.

“Because I need you to be soaked if you’re ever going to make this fit,” he jerked his cock forcefully.

‘oh! oh…i get to? get to have this?’ your voice was sultry now and the sound of rustling in the audio put him fully into your imagined context. ‘it’s so big, though…’

His brow furrowed as he slumped back into his chair further.

‘you’re going to make it fit?’ you purred excitedly, ‘show me’

Kento’s imagination ran wild. The way he would pick you up and toss you over his shoulder. Or bend you over the back of this armchair. Not in a rush, though, he would allow himself to enjoy the sight of your wet lips soaking through your panties between the plush landscape of your thighs. He might even allow himself to kiss up the backs of your legs from the pits of your knees to your slick inner thighs. You would wiggle impatiently, but his firm hand would keep you pinned over the back of the chair, toes barely able to brush the ground beneath you.

‘ohhhh, you’re one of those.’ you sighed as if frustrated, ‘can’t you be a little more…excited? that you get to have me this way? all puffy and swollen for you?’

He smirked. You were an impatient little thing, at times.

‘don’t you just want to sliiiiide that big cock into my little cunt? or…at least your fingers, right? it would be so easy with how wet you’ve got me’ you coaxed so sweetly.

Kento bit his lip, letting off with his hand for a moment. As a verified enthusiast, he could confirm that you did have the wettest little pussy that he’d ever laid eyes on. The way your lips split prettily around your fingers always made him think about how much deeper his could reach and stretch.

‘i thought so’ you giggled as you slid into yourself with a wet gush. ‘god your-, your fingers…they’re a lot bigger than mine,’ you sighed contentedly.

‘but i think you should really show me how much bigger that cock of yours is. if you think you can last, that is.’

Kento’s lip curled at your bratty teasing. He had no doubt that he could outlast a wanton little slut like yourself, but he so enjoyed the way that you egged him on.

‘i know…the sight of me creaming all over your cock…it’s enough to make anyone bust a nut. but that’s what i was hoping for anyways. as soon as i saw you, i thought, ‘hmm…he looks big and strong. i bet he would hold me down on his cock and breed me. breed my pussy. maybe that would finally satisfy me and make me less of a cockstarved little slut.’

“Doubtful,” he snickered, thrusting forcefully back up into his fist again. But he’d be happy to try. Fuck load after load of his cum into you. Listen to you moan and arch for him like a bitch in heat until each thrust did nothing but push his creamy ropes of cum back out, dripping down to your knees.

Kento’s balls tightened as he listened to you fuck yourself, your moans growing louder and less restrained. Little gasps and hiccups peppered your dirty words and he anticipated the moment that sent him over the edge each time without fail.

‘am…,’ you sniffled ‘am-, am,’ you struggled to speak between thrusts of your dildo. ‘am i being a good girl?’ you sounded so unsure of yourself and that flipped something deep inside of Kento’s brain.

“Fuckkkkkkkk,” Kento let out a deep, primal groan. “Yes,” he panted, about to burst. “Such a good girl. Such a good girl letting me fuck you like this,” he praised through gritted teeth before his cock jerked. Spurts of cum shot out onto his crumpled dress shirt and tie. His chest heaved with deep breaths and by the time his cock had deflated, he had also recovered.

A light flush covered the bridge of his nose as he peeled his shirt off and cleaned up. He was always a little embarrassed at the way he unraveled when listening to you. He considered himself to be an upstanding citizen, so how it was that you unlocked this crazed, unhinged version of himself, he still didn’t quite understand.

Checking the watch on his wrist, Kento sighed. Another day of sorcery work awaited him in the morning so it was time for him to go to bed.

…

Ino looked at Nanami Kento with admiration. They were on their way back from exorcizing a handful of Grade 2 curses. Ino had been able to handle them with minimal assistance from Nanami, which had his chest full of pride.

“Nanami-san, do you have any plans for the weekend?” Ino asked his mentor as they rode the subway.

“...no,” Nanami answered after some thought.

The most exciting thing he had planned for this weekend was your livestream on Friday, but he certainly wasn't about to share that with Ino.

“Do you?” he asked the younger man, a gentle look on his face.

“Not yet, but, oh!” Ino’s face lit up suddenly, “That reminds me, I need to call my sister back. She had asked about having a meal together this weekend.”

Nanami’s eyebrows raised. He wasn't aware that Ino had a sister.

“Do you mind if I do that now?” Ino asked when they got back to street level. “I'm worried I'll forget again.”

“Go ahead,” Nanami shrugged. They were just walking back to Jujutsu High.

“Hey sis! Yeah, yeah I know,” Ino grew sheepish as he spoke to his sister on the phone. “I’m sorry I forgot! But yes we should get dinner this weekend. How about Friday?”

Nanami smiled. Ino’s boyish nature showed through as he talked and something about it tugged at his heartstrings.

“Oh, you’re busy Friday? Hm, okay how about Saturday? Okay, Saturday then! Let me know where we should go. My treat!”

Nanami heard the voice on the phone protest at this, but Ino insisted.

“All set?” he smiled when the younger man slipped his cell phone back into his pocket.

“Yup! Seeing her Saturday,” Ino flashed a bright smile at Nanami.

“Are you close with your sister?” Nanami found himself asking.

Ino received this question with a look of surprise. Nanami was not prone to small talk, so this caught him quite off guard. He blinked a few times before standing up a little straighter and launching into a monologue about you.

Apparently Ino and his sister were quite close. He explained that his sister had largely raised him due to the significant traveling required by both of his parents’ jobs. She had encouraged him through school and taken on part time jobs in order to help support him. Nanami could tell that Ino felt a great deal of admiration towards her and perhaps that he owed an unpayable debt to her too. He wondered if you knew details of the line of work that Ino was now in or anything about the jujutsu world at all.

“We’re here,” Nanami decided to keep those questions unasked for now. “I have a meeting with Principal Yaga. Good work today.”

“Thank you, Nanami-san!” Ino bowed, brimming with happiness.

…

You checked the clock. Ten minutes until you started your stream. You checked your appearance again in the mirror and tried to reassure yourself that you looked fine. You were dressed in an oversized sweater with lingerie underneath. You wondered how many of your top tier subscribers would tune in today.

“Here we go,” you whispered to yourself before starting the stream. “Hi guys!” you greeted the virtual room.

A few logins dinged as you checked your framing to ensure that your face was out of view.

“Hi Todo, Hi Ken~,” you greeted a few of your regulars as their usernames popped up.

todollyawesome: ‘damn ken, the way she says your name’

ken73: ‘hi cinnamon roll’

You giggled at the nickname. The pseudonym you used online was Cinna and some while ago, fans had taken to calling you their cinnamon roll. Ken was one of the only ones who still used it and it made you feel warm and fuzzy with familiarity.

“I said hi to you too, Todo!” you protested playfully, watching as the viewer numbers ticked up, but only slightly. For an exclusive subscriber stream, it was to be expected, but you were grateful for everyone that did show up.

todollyawesome: ‘yeah but not like the way you say ken73’s name. its fine i get it, he’s dreamy’

You chuckled heartily at this. todollyawesome was another loyal subscriber of yours. Not quite as long as ken73, but he had a personality that certainly stood out. He was playful, boisterous, and always cracking jokes.

“Small group today then, I guess,” you cocked your head to the side. “What’s on everyone’s minds?”

todollyawesome: ‘you and your big juicy ass’

p1ercing.c0ck: ‘work tomorrow’

“Work tomorrow? On Saturday? Yuck,” you stuck your tongue out with distaste.

Kento nodded in agreement. He didn’t chime in to the chatterbox and instead took the time to observe you. You were dressed in an oversized, cozy sweater with part of the collar off-shoulder. This exposed one black bra strap and a generous view of your collarbone. Kento found himself wanting to suck and bite, marking you up.

“Shall we relieve some stress?” you asked, “Or do we just feel like chatting?”

It was a genuine question. While you were technically a sex worker, sometimes your smaller group streams did just naturally end up as chatting with a few friends.

“Aside from piercing, do other folks have weekend plans?”

todollyawesome: ‘hanging out with my best friend, yuj’

“Nice!” you smiled. “What about you, Ken?”

Kento’s eyebrows raised at the direct call out.

p1ercing.c0ck: ‘RIP cinna’s not even tryna hide her favoritism anymore’

todollyawesome: ‘man we been known that he was her favorite, old news’

“I mean…,” you laughed softly at the direct call out, “He’s been with me the longest,” you shrugged.

It was silly, of course, but you did have your favorites. Aside from being your longer subscriber, he also quite liked his personality. It was straightforward and though not as colorful as todo’s, it stood out to you just as much if not more.

In conversational settings, like now, he was quite reserved. While others liked to draw your attention by being ostentatious, Ken rarely did that. In sexual settings, however, he seemed to change completely. His messages were domineering, demanding, and downright filthy. You recalled clenching while reading them more than a few times. Ken struck you as someone who knew very clearly what they wanted and articulated it.

The personality that you'd fabricated for him was one of quiet confidence and unbridled, raw sexuality. A heady combination.

Kento swelled at the simple explanation for why he was your favorite. A sort of possessive pride filled up his chest at this subtle confirmation.

ken73: 'you're my favorite too.’

todollyawesome: ‘dude they're flirting 👀’

p1ercing.c0ck: 'don't mind me just watching 👀’

“Oh you're both into watching, huh?” you teased, eyebrows raising off screen. “How do you feel about that, Ken?”

Kento considered this for a moment.

ken73: ‘i'm not sure, to be honest’

You grinned. This was a very characteristic answer. Open and honest.

p1ercing.c0ck: ‘i just know it's big zaddy ken’

This had you cackling. You really did adore your top tier subscribers.

Kento flushed at the compliment.

“Speaking of big,” you hummed as you looked over your toy collection. “What do we think of this one?” you selected a dildo and brought it on screen. It was sizable to say the least. Girthy with a bulbous head, it was one of your favorite toys because of the way it popped inside of you initially.

todollyawesome: 'oh fuck yea! gonna show us how you take it?’

ken73: ‘love seeing you spread open around it’

“Piercing’s hands are too busy to type, I guess,” you teased as you stood up and readjusted. You moved the camera down to the floor and adhered the suction cup on the base of the dildo. You straddled it and flipped your skirt up.

“Oh I'm wet, guys,” you moaned, tugging your panties upwards so that the fabric outlined your puffy lips more clearly. A damp, dark spot was obvious.

todollyawesome: 'fucking super soaker 🥴’

p1ercing.c0ck: ‘on my computer screen but never on me 😔’

You rocked your hips, grinding your clit against the taut fabric. A warbled moan left your lips and the chat box popped off again.

ken73: ‘you sound so gorgeous’

todollyawesome: ‘that voice makes me NUT every time, without fail’

“Hah, thanks guys,” you smiled as you let off your clit slightly. “Can I please sit on it?” you cooed.

p1ercing.c0ck: ‘PLEASE GOD YES’

todallyawesome: ‘i’m gonna pass out if you DONT. ON GAWD’

ken73: ‘...do you think you’ve been good enough?’

Your chest fluttered. Ken was so withholding and it drove you wild.

“I think I’ve been good,” you pouted, “Don’t you think I’m a good girl, Ken?”

p1ercing.c0ck: ‘bro…should we leave?’

todollyawesome: ‘y’all need to do a 1:1 stream FR’

Your eyebrows perked at that. You weren’t not interested.

“You’re right, I’m singling him out, aren’t I?” you relented. “Well, I suppose I should sit on this thing and give you what you came for,” you teased, singsongily.

You angled your hips back so that the tip pressed against the wet fabric of your panties.

“Hmm, panties off or pushed to the side?” you asked your audience. “To the side, it is!” you grinned at the easy consensus.

A soft moan left your lips when you pushed your panties to the side. The slick juices caused the elastic to roll across your clit in a way that had you reeling. You glanced quickly as you positioned yourself over the bulbous head. It was a gratuitous upskirt shot as you lowered yourself on the toy slowly.

Kento groaned, hand fisted around his angry erection as he lowered it in time with you. His eyes were glued to your shining lips and the way they spread to accommodate the toy’s girth. Even just after one pass, it was coated with your slick ooze.

“So nice,” you exhaled dreamily when you reached the base. “So full.”

ken73: ‘good girl’

todollyawesome: ‘i’m dead. i died.’

Kento rocked his hips up into his fist as you worked yourself up and down on the toy. You were so fucking wet that a ring of froth was starting to collect at the base. God what he wouldn’t give to see that around his own cock. The swollen, dark head disappearing into your lovely folds as you utterly coated him with your arousal.

“Oh fuck,” you panted, your nipples tightening as your bounces grew sloppier. “I-, hmph!”

ken73: ‘gonna cum already? desperate thing…’

“It’s so wide,” you tried to explain, “The head. Feels so good,” you moaned wantonly.

“I love,” your breathing grew labored, “Love that fat tip,” you cried desperately as it raked against your sensitive spots.

p1ercing.c0ck: ‘god it’s so good when she gets like this’

Kento agreed. So aroused that you could barely string together sentences. He threw his head back and milked himself faster. The tendons in his forearm and hand flexed deliciously as he applied firm pressure to his cock. His thumb brushed over the tip occasionally, which caused his whole body to tense and shudder with pleasure.

“I-, I’m,” you spoke through your panting, “Gonna cum,” you whined just before your body tensed. The orgasm shot through your body with a shudder and a long, satisfied moan wrenched from your lips.

Kento grunted as the sound of your release triggered his. His heavy balls tightened and cum spurted through his stranglehold onto his tummy and chest. He continued stroking lazily, half hard, as he watched you rock through a second orgasm, this time with the toy stuffed deeply inside of you with shorter up and down motions. Ken wondered how many times he might be able to lazily pump you through orgasms until you tapped out.

“Thank you guys for tuning in,” you smiled as you supported yourself with your forearms planted in front of you. “I had fun, as always.”

p1ercing.c0ck: ‘thank you you beautiful goddess!!’

todollyawesome: ‘MARRY ME PLZ CINNA’

ken73: ‘thank you, princess. i think todolly was joking, but curious if i may in fact DM you about a 1:1 or custom audio? if you’re open to it’

Your heart skipped a beat at Ken’s message.

“Please do!” you smiled, blowing a kiss at the camera before ending the stream.

…

You huffed after checking your email. The past twenty hours had seen you searching for a notification from your streaming platform that never came. Perhaps ken73 hadn't been serious, but he didn't strike you as the type to ask that question flippantly. Shaking your head, you tucked your phone back into your pocket and you scanned the area for Takuma once more.

“Hey sis!” you saw his beanied head emerge from the crowd suddenly.

“Takuma!” you waved at him excitedly. When he got close enough, you folded him into a giant hug. It had been too long since you’d last seen him.

“How are you? You look great,” Takuma complimented you genuinely.

“Well thank you,” you laughed. Takuma hadn't changed.

“Aren’t you going to tell me I look great too?” your brother asked cheekily.

You leaned your head back and let out a belly laugh.

“I don’t know,” you teased, “This beanie…I don’t know if I dig the look.”

Takuma crossed his arms and huffed in protest.

“I look cool!”

“You always look cool,” you patted his head affectionately. Takuma had outgrown you in height now, so you had to reach up to do it, but he was still your little brother. “Hungry?”

“Yes! Always.”

“So how are things with your…work?”

You had a blurry understanding of the jujutsu world. When Takuma had first enrolled in Tokyo Jujutsu High, Principal Yaga had met with you as a courtesy to help you understand exactly why Takuma had been chosen. Takuma had excitedly kept you apprised of his training and ascension through the levels, but after graduating and becoming fully fledged, the sharing had ceased. You certainly understood the need to keep secrets too, so you never pushed too hard. So long as Takuma came home safe, you were satisfied.

“Really good!” Takuma beamed, “I had an assignment with Nanami-san this week. I learn a lot when I get to work with him.”

You smiled. This Nanami had become a mentor of sorts to Takuma through the years. It was clear that Takuma looked up to him and perhaps even idolized him to a degree.

“How are things with you?”

“Good,” you flipped through the menu, “Things at the office have been surprisingly calm and not much has changed.”

“That’s good,” Takuma smiled.

Dinner passed quickly with Takuma filling most of the silence with stories about the new students at Jujutsu High. You listened to him happily. Even if you didn’t share much in common anymore, these days, you were glad to see that Takuma hadn’t lost any of his positivity. It seemed that this Nanami-san was doing his best to take care of him and for that you were truly grateful.

“That dinner was not good,” Takuma shook his head regretfully as you left the restaurant with him.

“I have to agree,” you felt bad saying it, but it was true. “How about I cook for us next time?”

“I would love that! I miss your cooking,” Takuma beamed at you.

“Let me know what you want me to make!” and you chuckled at the speed with which your brother started rattling dishes off the top of his head.

…

‘You have (1) new messages!’

Your eyebrows raised. You clicked on the hyperlink in the email which brought you to the streaming platform.

ken73: ‘I apologize for the delay. Following up on my comment from earlier. I would love to discuss commissioning a custom audio from you.’

You were a bit surprised. You would’ve expected a 1:1 video session to be more interesting, but alas.

sweetcinna: ‘of course! I was starting to think you weren’t serious ;)’ sweetcinna: ‘full transparency, I haven’t done any custom audios to date, but am willing! if you have a script already or a scenario with some themes in mind, that would be really helpful’

Along with that, you sent some rough ideas of pricing that were mostly a wild guess.

Kento stared at his phone. Scenarios and themes…his mind went blank. All he could think was that he just enjoyed hearing you moan, but that wasn’t anything that you could go off of. He tapped the side of his phone as he thought.

If he let his mind run wild…what would it come up with? He certainly enjoyed your playful and sometimes teasing nature. Your little exhales of surprise made him think he would quite enjoy putting you in your place, manhandling you if needed. Looking up from his phone, the tie on his dresser from the day prior caught his eye. He would love to see you wear it and he wondered if he would enjoy binding your wrists with it.

ken73: ‘I enjoy it when you’re playful and tease. I imagine myself manhandling you a bit when you need to be put in your place. Lastly, I wear a tie to work every day…’

A delighted smile crept up your lips. So a little bit of a brat tamer and perhaps some shibari or bondage interest. You could work with that.

sweetcinna: ‘hm, ok! does an office/workplace scenario interest you?’ ken73: ‘Candidly, no. I prefer not to think about my job during off hours.’ sweetcinna: ‘that’s totally fair, I get it.’ sweetcinna: ‘hmm, how about something more domestic? like welcoming you home after a long day of work.’ ken73: ‘That sounds quite nice.’ sweetcinna: ‘perfect…also what would you like me to call you in this audio scenario?’ ken73: ‘You can keep calling me Ken.’ sweetcinna: ‘sounds good, ken :)’ sweetcinna: ‘let me mull this over a bit and flesh out the scene a bit more. i’ll send you more plot points as I think of them!’ ken73: ‘Great. Thank you, princess. And payment should already be to you.’

This surprised you. You checked and it was indeed already there in your virtual tip jar.

sweetcinna: ‘thank you sugar daddy! ;P’

Kento’s eyebrows raised sharply.

Daddy…

…

You tapped your chin with a pencil as you looked at the sheet of paper in front of you.

playful/bratty character

brat tamer? Ken

welcoming him home from work

his tie

You huffed. Maybe this custom audio thing was tougher than you had expected. How were you supposed to come up with something out of thin air? You laid down in your bed and closed your eyes, allowing your mind to roam for a bit.

You wondered about Ken. He seemed somewhat stern, but he had to have a wild side if he was following you. You wondered what he looked like. You imagined someone tall and strong. You weren’t sure if the 73 in his username referred to his birth year, but you had assumed that he must be a bit older. You wondered if you should play into a bit of an age gap fantasy…a lot of men tended to enjoy that. Your eyes popped back open as an idea struck you.

“Aha!” you ran back to your desk and scribbled down a few more bullet points.

Ken coming home from work

I’ve been teasing him all day with suggestive texts and explicit pictures

Ken is frustrated and has been aching to get home to reprimand me

I welcome Ken home dressed in nothing but an apron

Ken is stern, ties my wrists together to a bedpost. spanks and overstimulates me until i apologize

You did some more workshopping of the phrasing before sending it off to ken73. You were delighted when he wrote back that he loved the scenario.

…

Kento couldn’t wait to get home. He had received your audio file in his email earlier in the day and he had rushed through the rest of the day in a blur. Exorcizing curses seemed much more tolerable when he had something to look forward to at the end of the day. Gojo’s antics hadn’t even bothered him as much as usual, which was exceedingly rare.

He shrugged off his jacket and harness while he slipped off his shoes. It wasn’t much longer before he had your file open and was pressing ‘play’.

‘hi baby, welcome home!’ your voice greeted him, sounding slightly far away as some background noise accompanied it.

‘i’m in the kitchen!’

Kento closed his eyes, imagining walking through a set of hallways, slightly on edge from your teasing throughout the day.

“You’re acting awfully chipper,” he greeted you with a cool, terse voice. “When you’ve been acting like a needy little slut all day.”

‘who me?’ you giggled breathily.

“Yes, you,” he growled, stepping through the final doorway to the kitchen. His eyes glanced over your and they widened upon finding that you were dressed only in an apron.

‘hi Ken,’ you greeted him shyly.

Ken’s jaw ticked. Did you think there weren’t going to be any consequences for your actions?

‘i missed you today,’ you stepped towards him, but were stopped.

“You pissed me off today,” he imagined gripping you by the wrists firmly.

‘oh? i-’

“I had a lot of work to get done and I was able to accomplish practically none of it. Sending me all of those pictures and texts…”

‘oh did i distract you?’ you giggled, toying with him. ‘you know i can’t control myself when i get like that’

Kento snorted. This was indeed true. When you were turned on, there was practically no stopping you.

‘maybe you need to teach me a lesson,’ you wondered and he could hear the smirk on your face when you’d said that.

“Maybe I do,” Kento responded to your taunt. Maybe he needed to tie your wrists together with his necktie and spank you until you apologized for your behavior.

‘where are you taking me?’ you asked

“To teach you that lesson,” he replied.

‘you’re-, you’re tying me up?’ your voice sounded like a purr of a delight.

Kento imagined binding your wrists to his headboard, lifting your legs up by the ankles, and folding you in half so that the backs of your thighs were exposed to him. Then you’d have to count. To ten.

‘one!’ you cried at the sound of a spank.

Kento was surprised. You really made it immersive. By the tenth and final spank, your voice had grown airy and you had melted into the bed. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were soaked by now. Soaked and ready for him.

‘ken I need you,’ you moaned desperately. ‘i’ve needed you all day, please’

“So desperate,” he found himself teasing as he palmed himself through his slacks.

‘baby pleeease? can i please have that cock?’

It was too easy to melt at your request. He pulled himself out of his zipper and stroked, nodding to himself.

‘i can’t stop thinking about you,’ you confessed before wet sounds sucked Kento fully into the fantasy.

Your mouth and your pussy were used freely and you came loudly for him several times. He was proud of himself for lasting until the end of the audio, but the sounds of you hiccuping and begging for him to cum inside of you ultimately pushed him right over the edge and he exploded magnificently into his own hand.

Kento breathed deeply for a while before he tidied himself up. You were addicting.

ken73: ‘Thank you so much for that, sweetheart. Incredible.’

…

Why were you flustered by a message?! You wanted to smack yourself. The message you had received from Ken had been so simple and yet you found yourself melting at his praise.

sweetcinna: ‘thank you!! i really enjoyed making it.’ sweetcinna: ‘may I ask you? do you find yourself responding to me in the scenario? i often wonder that about my listeners, but haven’t ever asked!’

Ken was surprised at your question. He hadn’t even really been expecting a message back, since the transaction was technically complete.

ken73: ‘It sounds silly, but I do respond sometimes. You are very talented at creating an immersive scene, so I can’t help it at times.’ sweetcinna: ‘thank you very much.’ sweetcinna: ‘would it be odd to share that i’m curious what you sound like? like what types of responses come to your mind when you listen to me?’ ken73: ‘Would you like to hear my voice?’

Your heart leapt into your throat. His directness really grabbed you, for whatever reason.

sweetcinna: ‘yes, but i understand if you find that odd! i was just talking’ ken73: ‘No, I would like that very much. Take some time to think about it and let me know.’

Your heart was pounding.

…

You stared at your phone nervously. You had thought about it, probably too many times, before confirming that you wanted to do a phone call with Ken. You’d picked a day and the time had flown by.

ken73: ‘I’m running a bit late, but I will be home very soon.’ sweetcinna: ‘no rush!’

You decided to pour yourself a glass of wine while you waited. It wasn’t excessive, but the little bit of alcohol helped to ease your nerves.

ken73: ‘I am home. Here’s my number for you to call.’

You dialed and listened to the ring tone, full of excitement and anxiety. It rang just twice before he picked up.

“Hello, this is Ken.”

“Hi,” you did your best to keep your voice level. “How are you?”

“I’m good now, sweetheart. How was your day?”

“It was good,” you thought for a moment, “Work was not too eventful and now I get to talk to you!”

Kento smiled. He was incredibly pleased that you had agreed to a phone call. It was one thing to listen to your audios, but getting to interact with you in a more live fashion thrilled him.

“You have a nice voice, Ken,” you observed, interjecting into his thoughts.

“Ah, thank you,” he found himself flushing and chuckling at your words.

“You have a nice laugh too,” you pressed. You found yourself wanting to hear it again.

“You’re very complimentary, aren’t you?”

“Only when I have reason to be,” you shrugged.

“Consider me flattered,” Kento loosened his tie.

“Are you getting undressed?” you asked, hearing the rustling of fabric on his end.

“Not quite,” Nanami let out a hearty laugh. “Just loosening my tie.”

“Ah,” you nodded, “The tie that you’d like to tie me up with?” you flirted shamelessly.

Nanami tensed at your direct suggestion. Minx.

“I think you deserve it, don’t you?” his voice got lower somehow.

You let out a nervous, airy giggle. His voice was so attractive.

“Answer me,” he insisted.

“Please Ken,” you bit your lower lip and squirmed.

“That’s a good girl,” he exhaled, palming himself through his zipper.

“Your good girl,” you corrected him and you were rewarded with a soft growl.

A streak of possessiveness ran through him.

“That’s right, isn’t it?” he mused, “I’m the one who gets to enjoy you like this, aren’t I?”

“Uh huh,” you giggled. It was true after all, he was the first and only subscriber of yours to cross over into something more.

“My good girl,” he groaned and you purred in response.

“Are you hard?” you asked, hand snaking down to tease your inner thighs.

“Very,” he chuckled.

“Wish I could see,” you pouted.

Kento was struck with the sudden realization that he was more than willing to show you. In lieu of that, for now, he could try and paint you a word picture.

“Greedy girl,” he teased, “You’d love to feast your eyes on my cock, straining in my pants just from listening to you, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes,” you exhaled breathily, “Would want to feel it, rub my face on it, and then ask you if I could take it out.”

“So polite,” he leaned his head back. “Polite little thing.”

“Sir, may I touch myself?” you asked.

“Not yet, sweetheart,” he clicked his tongue, he wanted to tease you a little bit longer.

You let out a whine of disappointment that was music to his ears. You were so expressive and he loved that he was wrenching these sounds out of you.

“You’re going to get on your knees and watch me play with myself,” he decided.

You pouted, even though he couldn’t see you. Your cunt clenched at the thought. The denial was frustratingly arousing.

“Yes, sir,” you answered him, shifting to your knees.

“God you have me aching,” he exhaled shakily as he undid his pants and pulled himself out. His cock was heavy and thick in his hand.

“Would you describe it to me?”

“Naughty girl,” he grinned, “It’s decent sized,” he considered himself. “Six or seven inches with a wide, bulbous head. Veiny and,” he circled his fingers around the shaft, “Fairly thick.”

“Oh fuck,” you sighed contentedly, “You have a pretty cock.”

“Pretty cock for my pretty girl,” he chuckled at your description.

Your thighs squeezed together at his praise. You so desperately wanted to touch yourself…do something to relieve the throbbing ache between them.

“How long do I have to wait?” you squirmed, the crotch of your panties pressing against your clit torturously.

“Go ahead, baby,” Kento relented, “I know you’re not good at being patient.”

You flushed at the soft dig, but thanked him anyway and reached down to rub your aching slit.

“If you were here, I would have you suck my cock while you waited, but alas…,” his rich voice filled your ears and your toes curled.

“I would love that,” you breathed, “I would love to taste you. Feel that beautiful cock on my tongue,” you moaned wantonly.

Ken groaned as you described how you would lick and suck his raging erection. Nibble your lips along the underside, suckle at the bulbous tip, and swallow him down until you gagged on him. He felt like he could burst.

“Get me nice and hard with your pretty mouth,” he sighed, his chest heaving as he stroked himself to your pace. “So you can sit on it.”

You purred excitedly at this thought.

“May I?” you sat up, wanting to grab a toy.

“I think you must,” he chuckled.

You grabbed a dildo with a suction cup at the base and stuck it to the ground. You kneeled and positioned the head at your entrance before lowering yourself slowly.

“Oh fuck!” you whined at the pleasurable stretch. “Ken, fuck…”

Kento’s balls tighten when you moaned for him. He filled in the second syllable of his name in his mind as his hips bucked of their own accord. God, you made him want to bully his cock deep inside of you.

“So good, baby,” he groaned through gritted teeth, “So good taking it for me.”

You whined, bouncing your hips lower and lower on the dildo. Your nipples tightened as you approached orgasm.

“Hng, Daddy, can I cum?” you pleaded without thinking, desperate and wanton.

Kento’s body betrayed him.

“Yes, fuck!” he managed to answer before he came violently. His abs contracted forcefully as he shot ropes of cum onto himself. Your sounds of orgasm melted into his as you both reached your highs together.

“You came?” you asked after catching your breath.

“Yes,” Kento answered, his body slumped down in his chair.

“I should’ve asked you about the ‘daddy’ thing first,” you realized suddenly, “I’m sorry if I caught you off guard with that.”

“It…,” Kento paused. As loathe as he was about admitting it, he felt like he could with you. “I don’t…hate it.”

“But do you like it?” you insisted.

“...yes,” he finally answered.

“Okay good,” you exhaled with relief.

“Do you have other plans this evening?” he asked after a small gap of time.

“No, not tonight. Later in the week I need to get groceries, but nothing today. Do you?”

“Luckily no. Will take care of a few things around my apartment. Cook dinner.”

“Ah, do you enjoy cooking?”

“I do,” Kento nodded. It was a relaxing activity and a welcome reprieve from his job, which was filled with insanity.

“Me too. When I have time, I love to bake.”

“Ah, is that so?” Kento’s ears perked up. He loved baked goods. “What do you like to bake?”

“Oh almost anything,” you settled into your pillows. “Bread if I’m feeling ambitious. Muffins or something else if I’m short on time.”

“Cinnamon roll indeed,” Ken remarked with a chuckle.

A soft warmth flushed through you. Considering that Ken was a technical stranger, it was incredibly comfortable being on the phone with him. Maybe this was how your subscribers felt about you despite knowing very little. It was interesting to be on this end of a parasocial relationship.

…

You looked up from your pot of soup when you heard the buzzer for your front door. Takuma must be here! You let him in and then went to set the table. As usual you had cooked too much food, but you intended for him to pack most of it away anyways.

You answered the door and were surprised when your eyes landed on a tall, blonde stranger.

“Oh…, hello?”

“Hey sis!” Takuma greeted you from behind the stranger with a wide smile. “I hope you don’t mind, but I invited Nanami-san!”

Nanami wished a hole would open up in the ground underneath him. It wasn’t like Ino had railroaded him into joining for dinner, but he had insisted quite adamantly and caught Nanami in a moment of weakness.

“Ah? Ah!” as the name finally triggered recognition and you bowed politely. “Nanami-san, wonderful to meet you! Please come in!”

“I-,” Nanami paused, “Ino, I thought-,” he turned to the younger man with a stern look on his face. Ino hadn’t been quite clear about the invitation, but you clearly hadn’t been expecting Nanami.

“Please, Nanami-san,” you insisted, a soft smile on your face. “I have been wanting to thank you for taking such good care of my younger brother. I would love it if you joined us for dinner.”

Nanami found his cheeks growing warm at your genuine smile. Your eyes were locked directly on his and he found himself struck by your appearance. He noted some subtle similarities to Ino, but mostly he was reeling from how pretty you were. Preparations must’ve still been underway as you were wearing a scallop-edged apron that was tied back in a way that emphasized your shape.

“Ah, thank you,” he bowed before stepping through the doorway.

Takuma helped hang up Nanami’s jacket and leather harness while you added another place setting to the table. You ladeled out three bowls of miso soup and brought them to the table with the other dishes that were already laid out.

“Itadakimasu!” Takuma beamed at you before digging right in.

“Tch, impatient,” you clicked your tongue at him with a fond smile.

“Itadakimasu,” Nanami bowed his head at you as well before picking up his soup spoon. “This looks and smells wonderful.”

“Hopefully it tastes good too,” you winked at him.

“YN is a good cook,” Ino remarked to his mentor.

Nanami’s eyes widened after a few bites. It was delicious.

“This is wonderful,” he complimented you genuinely.

“Thank you,” you grew a little under his heavy stare. He was so serious. “Ah, I forgot!” you stood suddenly, “Would you like anything to drink other than tea?”

“Nanami likes whiskey,” your brother answered helpfully.

“No, you don’t have to,” Nanami put his hands up in protest.

“Ice? No ice?” you asked, ignoring his niceties.

“One ice cube,” he relented and you nodded.

“Let me play house for you, Nanami-san,” you grinned playfully at him when you returned with the glass. “It’s in my nature as an older sister, after all.”

Kento blinked at your teasing. There was something familiar about it. His eyes were glued to you as you untied the apron and hung it on a hook.

“Well, tell me about yourself, Nanami-san!” you demand cheekily as you started in on the food as well. “Considering how many times Takuma has mentioned you, I don’t think I actually know anything about you!”

“Of course,” the tall gentleman nodded, “Nanami Kento. I am twenty-eight years old working as a Grade 1 jujutsu sorcerer.”

You chuckled at his formal introduction.

“Ino YN,” you returned the introduction. “Working as a personal assistant at the Tokyo courthouse. Very nice to meet you.

Nanami found himself smiling at you. You were obviously teasing, but he found that he didn’t dislike it…at all.

“Tell me about your day,” you asked of Takuma as you also started eating.

Without fail, your younger brother launched into enthusiastic storytelling, which allowed you to observe both him and his mentor. Nanami’s blue shirt pulled taut across his shoulders. He wore a spotted tie, which seemed to be in contrast to the rest of his stern appearance. You smiled…it was a nice touch. His hair was parted sharply and his face was full of similar lines and planes, but he was handsome nonetheless.

Nanami looked up during your observation and caught your eye. He was watching you too. Particularly he found himself fixated on your chin and mouth. He felt crazy for even thinking it, but you reminded him of SweetCinna. He even felt that your voice was similar, but perhaps he just found himself attracted and projecting.

“How was your day?” Takuma’s voice cut through the tension. He glanced between you and Nanami and then grinned.

“It was good,” you smiled. “I did some reading in the morning before getting groceries and cooking for dinner.”

“What are you reading?” Nanami asked.

“Land of Milk and Honey by C Pam Zhang. It’s…,” you thought for a moment about how to describe the work. “Interesting. It’s near future dystopian, lots of references and imagery around food.”

“Interesting,” Nanami’s eyebrows raised. “How are you finding it?”

“Hm,” you looked at him head on. “I’m not quite far enough yet to have a strong opinion.”

Nanami nodded. That certainly made sense.

“Do you enjoy reading? I’d be happy to lend it to you when I’m finished.”

“I do,” he nodded, some of the tension seeming to leave his shoulders. “It’s probably my main source of leisure these days.”

“Ah! Me too,” you beamed at him with delight. Nanami smiled at you and your breath caught. There was something satisfying about seeing his stern facade drop.

Takuma look on at your interaction with Nanami, over the moon. This wasn’t exactly what he’d had in mind when he’d extended the invitation, but he certainly wasn’t complaining.

“How can I help?” Nanami asked once everyone had had their fill.

“Help me bring the dishes to the sink?”

He nodded and started stacking empty plates and bowls together. You put your apron and gloves back on and placed everything into the sink.

“Shall I dry?”

“That’s not necessary!” you shook your head, chuckle when the image of Nanami in your apron and gloves popped into your head.

“There’s nothing I can do to help?”

“Oh, actually,” a thought did pop into your head. “Can you help me tie my hair up?” you gestured to the hair tie that was laying on the counter.

Nanami blinked at the request, but nodded, grabbing the elastic. His fingertips brushed along your scalp as he gathered your hair into a bundle. He struggled a bit, but managed to get most of it tied up in the band. You’d tried to bite it back, but Nanami had heard what sounded like a soft purr when he’d tugged a little too hard.

He really felt like he’d heard that before.

…

Nanami tapped his foot impatiently on the train. It had to be you, right?

After the meal with you, he’d tried to put things out of his mind unsuccessfully. The thought of you being SweetCinna had nagged and nagged at him until he’d finally relented and gone over your audio collection with a fine toothed comb. He’d listened and listened to your honeyed voice, painfully hard, until he’d found a clip that made things fall into place.

‘tch, i’m not a brat!’

The click of your tongue had been so similar to your admonishment of your brother.

As he continued to wonder whether he was valid or crazy, his phone chimed with a notification.

sweetcinna: ‘any chance you’re free?’ ken73: ‘I am actually. Anything the matter?’ sweetcinna: ‘no? does something have to be the matter for us to talk?’ ken73: ‘No not at all, angel. I just wasn’t sure if it was a one-off last time.’

You regarded your phone with a look. You supposed that was a fair assumption, but after your slip up with Nanami’s hand in your hair you’d found yourself with an excess of sexual tension that you wanted to work out…with Ken.

sweetcinna: ‘would you be interested in chatting on the phone again?’ ken73: ‘Of course. Give me a few minutes and I’ll let you know when you can call.’

“Hello!” you greeted him sunnily.

“Hi angel,” he smiled at the sound of your voice.

“How are you?”

“Very good,” he nodded.

“Very good?” you laughed, “And why’s that?”

Kento paused before answering in a way that wouldn’t give himself up quite yet.

“It was just a good day,” he shrugged. “How about you? How was your day?”

“It was actually quite good as well,” you answered honestly, “I had dinner with my younger brother and that was a lot of fun.”

“Oh, is that so?”

“Yes!” beamed as you recalled the meal. “He actually invited a colleague of his who I’d never met before. He talks about him often, so it was nice to meet the gentleman.”

“It must’ve been a bit of a surprise then?” Kento asked.

“It was, but not in a bad way,” you shook your head, “He was quite handsome,” you giggled as you thought of Nanami’s tall, broad form again.

Kento was almost jealous for a moment before he remembered that you were actually referring to him.

“Is that so?” he raised an eyebrow, feigning jealous anyways.

“Quite,” you answered honestly. “Are you jealous?” you asked, catching the slight edge in his voice.

“Should I be?”

“I don’t think so,” you answered giddily, “I probably won’t see him again. And it’s not like he’s made me cum just with his voice, right?”

Kento let out a sharp laugh. You were quite skilled at flattery.

“Hmm,” he hummed in agreement, “And is that why you called? So I can remind my slutty little princess just how hard I make you cum?”

“Maybe…”

“Ask me for it, pretty girl,” Ken’s voice was low and thick in your ear.

“Hng…Ken, please,” you relented with a soft whine.

Kento squeezed his eyes shut at this noise. You were so alluring. He would have to tell you…he wanted to tell you, but for now he needed to hear you cum, fall apart for him and only him.

“Very good girl,” he hummed, pleased.

You squirmed. It was ridiculous how so few words could have you clenching for him. Your nipples were pebbled through your thin shirt and you brushed your fingertips over them with a soft hiss.

“Tell me what you’re doing,” he demanded, palming himself through the front of the sweatpants that he had changed into.

“My nipples,” you panted, “Teasing them, through my shirt.”

“Imagine, my tongue on them. Lapping with my tongue wide and flat and then teasing with the tip, getting the fabric damp and wet so that when I blow on it, it grows cool.”

“Oh fuck!” you arched instinctively, images of Nanami popping into your mind. His mouth working at your puckered nipples as Ken described.

“Make a pretty wet spot to match the one that I know is on your panties.”

“Ken!” your chest heaved with ragged breaths.

“Yes, pretty girl?”

“I need,” you squirmed, “I need…something.”

“Have you been waiting for me?” Kento asked, slightly fuzzy in the chest at your obedience, despite your obvious desire.

“Yes,” you nodded, “I'm being good, I swear.”

“Can you wait for me just a bit longer? I’d like to take my time tonight.”

Kento heard you nod and he imagined the breathless expression on your face, this time in full clarity. God, he wanted you. To push your knees apart. To tie your wrists together above your head. To feast on you until he'd had his fill.

“Fuck,” he threw his head back and groaned. He hadn't thought it was impossible, but his cock was harder knowing who you were and that you were potentially in reach.

Your toes curled as you pulled your knees to your chest. Your cunt was aching and dripping at Ken’s rough, deep voice and you wished he were there to bury himself inside of you and fuck you within an inch of consciousness. You wished to be drooling and mindless, stuffed full of his fat erection.

“Daddy please, I can't wait anymore,” you cried.

Kento growled at the moniker.

“Go ahead, baby,” he coaxed you. “Go ahead and touch that pretty pussy for me. I know you need it.”

“Thank you thank you thank you,” you murmured as your fingers stroked over your soaked lips. “Fuck I'm so wet,” you giggled, relaxing with relief.

“God I want to taste you,” Kento moaned. “Eat you until it's dripping down my chin. Until you're crying.”

“Fuck! I’m gonna,” you choked at his fervent words, “Can I? Please?”

Nanami’s vision went red. So. Fucking. Polite.

“Cum for Daddy,” he coaxed.

Your body jerked. Hearing him refer to himself that way triggered a deep and primal response in you that had you crying out for him as you snapped.

Nanami’s pupils dilated as he listened to you come apart. You were so loud, so clear, so gorgeous…for him.

“Beautiful,” his voice was almost like a whisper now.

“You haven't cum yet?”

“No, not yet.”

His self control was really something else.

“Good, because I need you to cum in my pussy,” you declared.

Kento’s eyebrows raised. Little brat.

“Oh is that so? How do you figure that?”

“Because I'm you're good little slut,” you insisted. “Don't you want to fill me up?”

Kento barked out a laugh that sent a thrill down your spine. He wanted to grab a fistful of your hair and pull you to eye level with him.

“Babygirl. Listen to me carefully now,” his voice was hard, “I will cum where I want, when I want, and you will be happy with it.”

You melted audibly into your bed with a fluttery sigh and Kento smirked. You were perfect.

“You're lucky I'm in the mood to pump you full of my cum tonight,” he remarked and you felt yourself gush again.

“Please,” you nodded. You felt like you were floating. “I need you to fuck your cum into me with that fat cock, please!”

Kento grunted, hips bucking up into his fist. The dark, swollen head disappeared and reappeared repeatedly between his thumb and pointer finger as his hip flexors worked.

“Kento,” your tongue slipped as you ground your clit against the heel of your palm. “I'm co-oming!” your breath hitched in your throat as you did.

“Hah,” his panting was throaty. He tensed at the sound of your second orgasm and the mental image of being balls deep inside of you pushed him over the edge with you.

You listened to each other breathe as your minds returned to your bodies.

“Did that scratch your itch?” Kento finally asked, a content smile on his lips.

“Very much so,” you nodded, eyelids growing heavy with relaxation.

“You should sleep,” he murmured after hearing a yawn.

“Goodnight, Ken,” you muttered.

“Goodnight, YN,” he whispered after ending the call.

…

You checked your wristwatch again. The train was more than a few minutes late today. It had been a reasonable day at the courthouse, but you were ready to go home.

Eventually, the train car doors slid open with a squeak and you stepped inside. Glancing around, you were surprised when you saw a now-familiar silhouette.

“Nanami-san!” you found yourself moving towards him.

“A-ah, Ino-san,” he greeted you with a surprised expression.

“Nice to see you again. Are you headed home?”

Nanami nodded and you reached up to grab a handhold as the train pulled out of the station. The car jerked slightly and you stumbled, hand wrapping around Nanami’s flexed bicep instead.

“Shoot!” you squeaked as you tried to steady yourself. You almost jumped out of your skin when a warm hand met the small of your back, helping you regain your balance. “I’m sorry,” you turned away, slightly mortified.

“Quite alright,” Kento found himself pleased at your self-consciousness. His hand was splayed across your back and he let it linger for a moment or two longer than necessary. “How was your day?”

“It was a little busy, but not bad,” you looked up at him. “And yours?”

“It was a fair day. Did some training with students. Have you gotten any further in your book?”

“Oh I have!” your face lit up and you turned to face him. “It’s quite interesting. The language is very beautiful.”

“Hmm,” Kento nodded and you shared more of the plot and your opinions on the work.

“Oh, my stop is next,” you interjected with realization. You turned to him with a look in your eye that was almost regretful.

“May I walk you back?” Kento found himself asking. “I’m enjoying this conversation.”

“A-ah, of course!” you nodded. Heat prickling up the back of your neck.

Nanami fell into step with you as you led the way to your apartment. You found yourself truly enjoying his company so you took a few scenic options.

“Has Ino ever shared much about his special technique with you?” Kento asked.

“No,” you shook your head. “And I suppose I’ve never asked.”

“I see.” Nanami nodded. He inhaled deeply, now was as good a time as any. “There are a wide variety of techniques. One of mine involves creating weak points at a set ratio of 7:3. Some refer to me as the 7:3 Sorcerer.”

You stilled for a moment. 7:3? Nanami Kento, the 7:3 Sorcerer?

You heard an almost comical screeching sound in your mind as the pieces puzzled themselves together. Could Nanami be ken73? Surely that would be too coincidental.

Nanami had kept walking, so you found yourself several paces behind him when you snapped out of your thoughts. You jogged lightly to catch up, shooting him a furtive glance as you did so. You certainly wouldn’t mind it if he was. Imagining all of the phone calls that you’d had, those words coming out of Nanami’s mouth, had a fiery heat building steadily in your belly.

You were rendered quiet until you reached your building. You paused at the sidewalk and tried to keep your face straight as you bowed politely.

“Thank you for walking me back. I enjoyed our conversation today.”

“Likewise,” Nanami nodded. He looked you over from head to toe. You were doing a remarkably good job of staying composed, so he was not sure whether you had picked up on his clues or not. As you turned to enter your building, one last thought entered into his mind.

“YN…are you a fan of cinnamon rolls, by chance?”

Your mask fell. Your mouth fell into a circle and you turned to face Nanami again, eyes searching. He had taken his glasses off and his gaze bore into you, heavy and hot.

“Ken?” you murmured in disbelief.

His lips curled into a smile and relief curled through his chest.

“How?” you shook your head as he stepped towards you.

“I’ve been subscribed to you for years, remember? It is so surprising that I could identify your voice?” his eyes flicked over your face. “Plus you are an insufferable tease in real life too.”

You felt like there was steam coming off the top of your head. You had wondered in the past what it might feel like to be discovered, but it was always more doomsday-y than this. Having Kento find out felt more like relief and nervous excitement. You wondered what he was thinking.

“I am wildly attracted to you, both physically and mentally, but I don’t want to presume anything on your end because I understand that our virtual connection was also your job.”

“You’re not,” you answered honestly. “I-, it was meaningful to me too.”

Kento nodded.

“May I take you out on a date?”

“You don’t think we could skip that?” you reached for his tie playfully.

“I don’t-,” Kento’s mind stuttered at your touch. “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea by doing things out of order.”

Your chest squeezed. He was so proper…until he wasn’t.

“Can’t you make an exception for me?” you cooed, running your hands along his lapels.

His hands clutched your wrists and stilled them. There was a tick in his jaw that hadn’t been there before.

“If I tell you no, would you be a good girl for me and wait?”

“Yes,” you sighed, relishing the pressure of his strong grip.

“Good girl. I’ll see you tomorrow for dinner, then,” he decided and then stepped back. Almost as an afterthought he added, “And don’t even think about touching yourself before then.”

You almost let out an anguished wail at this. He was going to make you wait to have him. And you would.

…

You were vibrating with anticipation when Kento picked you up. The night passed torturously slowly with soft grazes of his knuckles against your calves, his fingertips trailing across your hips and lower back, and his warm breath curling around the shell of your ear when he spoke.

Nanami had watched proudly as you had held back shivers and bit down moans as he’d teased you through the evening. He couldn’t get enough of touching you. Watching you barely hold it together, just for him. Keeping up his gentleman’s facade he walked you to your front door, kissed your knuckles and then moved to leave.

“Kento, please,” you begged softly, looping your arm around his torso and resting your forehead against his back. “I need you,” you whispered, voice growing frayed as your sanity unwound.

Kento swept you up into his arms and pressed a kiss to your temple. You grabbed him by the necktie and pulled him into a ravenous kiss as he backed you into your apartment. Your hands pushed the suit jacket off of his shoulders and explored his broad form. For a moment Kento was caught off guard by the ferocity of your kisses, but he adjusted quickly.

“Shall I put on the apron?” you teased, lips brushing against his. The groan he let out was well worth it.

“Later,” he pressed you down onto the bed and grasped you by the ankles.

He pressed a kiss against your left ankle before he set them on his shoulders. His hands traced down your calves and pushed your skirt up over your plush thighs. It was like unwrapping a present. He found himself kneeling until your legs were hooked over his shoulders and his face was buried against your quivering, needy cunt. You had leaked completely through your panties through the course of the date and your inner thighs were slick with shine.

“All for me, princess?” he teased, before diving in. He dragged his nose along your core and kissed you languidly through the fabric. The noises were so wet and gushy, music to his ears.

“Kento,” you arched up against him, desperate for more. “Please fuck me,” you begged, the words coming out in wet, hot little pants. “You can torture me later, take your time later, but please I need you to fuck me right now!”

Kento smirked against your pussy. He had really done a number on you.

“Since you asked nicely,” he relented, peeling off his disheveled clothes. Your eyes feasted on him as he pulled off your panties and set your ankles back on his shoulders. His pupils dilated as he watched your juices coat his fat tip. His eyes rolled back as his cock slipped past your impossibly tight lips with a ‘pop’.

“God you are fucking tight, princess,” he marveled as he rocked into you. “Your pussy is gripping me.”

“Kento, more.”

He nodded and pressed a kiss to your calf again before he stroked himself deeply into you. You let out an embarrassing noise as he filled you up. Your eyes rolled back and your hips canted to meet his thrusts. Wet sounds of him burying himself into you mingled with wet pants and low groans. A coil tightened in the pit of your belly.

“I’m,” you gasp punctured the air, “I’m close.”

He nodded, keeping up his pace as you clenched around him.

“Are you?” your wild eyes sought his out, “Together?”

Kento’s eyes widened as his stomach clenched at your breathless request. Together. Yes, he wanted that too.

“A little more,” he answered, “Hold on for me.”

You nodded furiously, stifling your orgasm as Kento rutted himself deep inside of you. His cock stroked deep and thick inside of you until he tensed.

“Now, princess!” he whined, his hips stuttering as his cock twitched deep inside of you. His heavy balls shot ropes of cum into you until his body sagged atop yours.

You pulled him close and pressed kisses across his jaw and over his nose while he recovered. He grew shy at this peppering of affection, which only served to endear you to him more.

“Shall we change my nickname to cream pie instead of cinnamon roll?” you giggled, brushing some hair out of Kento’s eyes.

Kento started laughing so hard that his shoulders shook. You wrapped your arms around them and basked in the sounds of his joy.

[sensei-venus]

@gemini-sensei Now you have me thinking about Bimbo! Reader and Hawk after they graduate.

The two of them are so cute together! Reader is a stay-at-home wife, but she definitely does something like bedazzling tumblers or something when she's bored and sells them. Hawk is working at the dojo with Daniel and Johnny. Things couldn't be better for the couple.

Well that is until Sam and Miguel have their first baby.

Sam lets Reader hold the little boy one time right after they get out of the hospital and that's that. Reader is obsessed with the baby boy.

She holds him whenever she is over at the Diaz-LaRusso house. When Sam is busy she helps out and watches him. Making sure he has a nice warm bottle and a soft blanket. Talking to him all sweet and quiet. His little eyes always seem to follow her. Sam and Miguel have to admit that they find it cute to see both the chubby girl and their newborn son giggle at one another. Reader adores the time she gets to spend at their house.

But one day when she goes home from a tiny visit, she feels different. She's making dinner, now in some kind of mood, when her phone dings. Picking it up she finds a new message from Sam. Opening it she finds a picture of the baby boy in the new outfit she had bought them recently. Sam gushes a little about how adorable he looks in it and thanks her agine for buying it for him. Reader gives a smile to herself as she texts back “Hes so cute! Lots of kisses from his aunt Reader💕” before putting the phone back down.

Her mood is completely sour now. She stops cooking and just sits at the dinner table thinking. Not fully understanding why she's feeling the way she is. So many emotions are popping up. She loves the Diaz baby so why is she all of a sudden so sad? She thinks about it for a while before she realizes what she's feeling in that moment.

Her cheeks are warm and her heart is going a mile a minute in her chest.

She wants a baby of her own.

(cutting it off here, but I fucking know for a fact that Reader cries a lot when telling Hawk she wants a baby.)

[mattzerella-sticks]

dropping bi (ao3)

1.9 k, Buck/Tommy, Coming Out

Buck is easing into dating men, taking it one step at a time. Tommy's been a great partner through all of it. After a wonderful date in which Tommy spent the night at Buck's, Buck tumbles into the next step of his journey of self-discovery when his family makes an unexpected, unannounced, visit.

Buck eases awake beside a still sleeping Tommy. He stretches and hears his spine pop and crack into alignment as he turns over, so they’re face to face, nose to nose, for when Tommy’s eyes flutter and he begins to stir. Giddiness overwhelms Buck in that moment, his joy shooting forward like a sprout out the ground after a long, harsh winter, whose leaves unfurl while basking in the celebratory sunlight. He doesn’t fight this feeling, doesn’t force himself to temper it. Buck allows this seedling to grow and bend and blossom into a wide grin which nearly splits his face in half when he welcomes Tommy into consciousness.

“Morning.”

Tommy’s gooey stare echoes Buck’s expression. “Hey,” he says and slides his hand towards Buck, placing two fingers under Buck’s chin – his signal – to better guide Buck into a gentle kiss.

Buck sighs as their lips touch and he melts against Tommy.

His breath might stink, but he cannot make himself care with how Tommy gnaws on his lower lip. He’s sweaty, but Buck is grateful he is when Tommy slides his other hand beneath his damp shirt, tugging it higher, caressing his sides. He has to pee soon, but not so soon that having their legs slot together brings any discomfort.

Kissing Tommy is like magic. Worry and awkwardness, ‘what if’s and ‘maybe’s fade into the background since all of Buck’s focus is drawn in by the other man’s gravity the longer they stay within each other’s orbits. Buck never wants to leave him, this embrace, his bed…

But then Buck hears his front door open. The spell breaks, and so does their kiss.

Tommy presses his thumb against the cleft in Buck’s chin and asks him, “Were you expecting company?”

Buck shakes his head. “No, I –“

“Buck? Are you here?”

It’s Maddie, followed by Chimney calling for him, “Yo! Buck!” and Jee-Yun, squealing, clapping, asking after her “Uncle Buck! Uncle Buck!”

Buck leaps from his bed to lean over the railing, catching them as they enter the kitchen area. Maddie eases herself into one of the chairs by the table with Jee-Yun playing with a toy as she sits on her lap, meanwhile Chimney directs himself to the coffee maker and tosses a tumbler back and forth between his hands. Buck coughs, clears his throat, and tries to summon up his earlier smile.

The waning grimace he manages hurts to wear, but he persists.

“Hey,” his voice cracks. “Hey. Why – what are you all doing here?”

Maddie sighs. She brushes a few stray hairs away from her face as she explains, “Our stove stopped working last night.”

“Without warning,” Chimney adds, “With only twenty minutes left on our roast.” He presses a few buttons on Buck’s coffee maker. It growls and whirrs and almost bites him. “Mind you, we’ve only had this stove for less than a year, and it just breaks! Had to finish cooking dinner on the grill. It was awful!”

“Anyway,” Maddie cuts Chimney off, continuing, “we were on our way over to see about getting a new stove, maybe grabbing something to eat as well… and wanted to see if you’d join us?”

On any other day, he would. Today is inopportune.

“Oh, well –“ Buck fumbles through an excuse, fingers flexing along the loft railing during his speech. “I’m sorry that happened, and I really would like to go, it’s just – I’ve got a few things of my own I got planned today, and I’d hate to crash your day out together.”

“You wouldn’t be crashing,” Maddie says. “We’re inviting you.”

“I guess, but –“

“And it’s not like we can’t help you with your errands,” Chimney tells him. “We’ll make a whole day of it. I’m pretty much game for anything – anything that’s not leaving a flaming bag of doo-doo on Tommy’s front step, that is.”

Heat prickles at the base of his neck, where he knows Tommy’s eyes are, and leaks across his back like magma as Chimney and Maddie share a laugh. His skin must be splotchy and red and so obvious. “C’mon,” he protests weakly, “it’s not like that…”

“So you’ve gotten over this little thing you had about Eddie making new friends?” Maddie asks him.

“Well, I –“

“I’d like to think he has.”

Tommy stands beside Buck on the railing, a hand laid along his shoulder while the other curls over his blanching knuckles gripped, he realizes, way too tight to the railing.

Chimney and Maddie fall silent. Buck knows they’re shocked, and rapidly putting pieces together. It’s not a hard puzzle. Buck and Tommy each in their undershirts and boxers, sleep mussed, swollen lips, hardly an inch of space between them. The dots connect themselves.

“Tommy, can you –“

“Yeah,” he says, pressing his lips to Buck’s cheek, stealing half his breath from him while making their situation even that more simple to guess. “I could use a shower right now anyway.” He squeezes Buck’s hands as he peels off to gather last night’s clothes and head for the shower.

On the last step, he pauses and asks, “Towels are –“

“Are in a linen closet, in the bathroom. Next to the shower,” Chimney answers.

Tommy winks at him, “Thanks.”

No one says anything more until the bathroom door clicks shut, and Buck hurriedly descends from his bedroom.

Maddie says, “Buck was that –“ And Buck says, “I know.”

Chimney says, “You and he were –“ And Buck says, “We were.”

Maddie says, “So you and he are…” She trails off.

And Buck? Buck stops after reaching the table, hovering across from where Maddie sits. He looks at her, as she watches him like he was some glass figurine teetering on the edge, about to break. He looks at Chimney, who still hasn’t reigned his eyebrows back down from when Tommy’s unannounced appearance made them fly into his hairline. He looks at Jee-Yun, who doesn’t care at all what’s happening because she’s making her doll do a little dance on his table.

Buck focuses on her dance while he speaks. “Tommy and I are dating,” he says to the doll. He inhales. He exhales. His shoulders sag from the release. “We’ve been hanging out the past couple of weeks. Last night was our… third date.”

A wonderful third date that Tommy planned. He drove Buck all across town, paid for everything, pampering Buck in a manner he was unaccustomed to but absolutely loved. They ate hot wings and played a few rounds of pool. They saw the latest Guy Ritchie film and shared a tub of popcorn between them. They visited a roller disco, Tommy ensuring Buck never fell by keeping his hands at his waist, chin hooked over his shoulder, and syncing their gaits to the music and each other. Finally, after hanging up their skates for an hour at the bar, the two took a midnight stroll to sober up.

As the breezes became gusts which cut through the thin fabric of Buck’s paper-thin button up, Tommy silently wrapped his jacket over Buck’s shoulders and drew him into his arms, and they walked the rest of the way back to the car with Buck’s heart throbbing in his chest.

By the time they arrived at Buck’s apartment around two o’clock in the morning, there wasn’t any thought of letting Tommy drive home.

“So, last night… did you –“

“No,” Buck says. He collapses into a seat, takes the mug of coffee that had been placed in front of him – by Chimney, but when? – and focuses on its warmth, its weight in his hands. “I don’t think… we aren’t at that stage yet.”

Fooling around, fondling, making out like a couple of teenagers who only recently discovered how great it felt to reach beyond their waistbands were all they did. Buck didn’t mention that. Not with Jee-Yun in the room.

“And you,” Maddie starts, “Are you –“

“I’m not gay,” Buck bristles. He scowls into the coffee, “I mean – I like guys. I really like Tommy. But… I wasn’t faking it before. With girls. I like them, too.”

“Of course,” Maddie agrees. She curls her hand around his wrist and tugs, pulling him from the whirling abyss in his mug, that mirrored the path his thoughts were heading onto. He glances up at her and sees her guarded expression gone, replaced with a softness suffused with unbreakable love. He regresses to that kid he used to be in its presence, who was a bundle of limbs tethered together by anger and adrenaline, who’s sole respite from the too small world of Hershey, Pennsylvania was when his sister would comb her fingers through his curls and tell him it would be okay. Her phantom touch scratches his scalp while her thumbs rub into his pulse point. “What I wanted to ask,” she says, “is are you happy?”

And he feels bad for thinking she’d ask anything other than that. He doesn’t tell her this, though. He nods and says “Yes” and laughs when she laughs and smiles when she smiles. It’s different than what he showed Tommy, but not any less genuine.

“Good. I’m happy, then,” she tells him. “And so proud of you, Evan.”

“So am I,” Chimney says. He drops his full weight onto Buck’s shoulders, squeezing him into a hug. “Though I could strangle you for your taste in men.”

Buck pouts at him, “What’s wrong with Tommy?”

“Have you seen him?” Chimney squawks. “How am I supposed to give Tommy ‘the talk’, threaten him if he ever breaks your heart? Dude knows Muay Thai…”

“Chim…”

“And he flies helicopters!” he rambles on, “He could chop my head off with one of those blades before I can get close enough.”

“And have the entire 118 string me up by a truck ladder, extend it, and drive under an overpass? No thank you.”

Tommy emerges from the bathroom, fully clothed, running a towel over his slick wet hair. He struts towards the group, taking his place beside Buck. “I wouldn’t harm a hair on your head,” he says to Chimney. Then, he locks eyes with Buck. “Or yours, either.”

Tommy searches Buck’s face to ensure he’s okay, and Buck acknowledges he is with a nod as he offers the cooling mug of coffee to Tommy. He accepts it.

Buck stands. “I guess it’s my turn to shower,” he says, “if we want to make it to the store before it gets too crowded.”

“You don’t have to –“

“It’ll be fun,” Buck says. “Like a… weird double date, right?”

“I’m game,” Tommy tells them. “I actually just replaced my stove a month ago, we can stop by the shop where I got mine and schedule an installation. I’m friends with the mechanic so it won’t be that long of a wait time.”

Chimney claps him on the back. “You’re a lifesaver, man.”

“Aren’t we all.”

Buck laughs and shuffles away to the bathroom, throwing out a “Don’t embarrass me while I’m gone” over his shoulder that’s met with a “No promises” from both his sister and his friend and his – boyfriend, is it too soon? It doesn’t matter. He’s in too good of spirits to be brought down.

When alone in the steamy bathroom, Buck wipes at the mirror to see his reflection, places his fingers where Tommy had them and tilts his face this way and that, and notices how bright and cheery his face is. It’s a welcome sight. Buck likes it, likes who he is and how his family does, too.

Buck deserves this, and for once actually believes that he does.

@free-to-be-impaled tagging you per your request.

[mcufan72]

Sugar and Cinnamon

Loki and female reader (AU) / 18+

Chapter 4

Chapter 3

Warnings: smutty, protected sex and it might end differently than you expect, contains fluff, angst, morally grey stuff, and uncertainty

Note: this chapter got a bit long (~6.7k words) but I didn't know where to cut

About two hours later, you arrived at the premium five-star hotel in Manhattan. Walker had driven you there and was now opening the limousine's door for you. Loki left the car first and nodded in thanks to Walker before he offered you his hand helping you to get out of the limousine's backseat. You straightened the blazer of your trouser suit and asked him for a minute alone with Walker. Loki walked a few steps away from you two to give you the space to talk to Walker undisturbed.

“You know what to do, y/n? In case he does anything you dislike and doesn't stop doing it?” Walker questioned quietly.

“Yes, pushing the emergency number on my phone,” you answered calmly.

“Right. Please, place it close to you in reachable distance. If you call me, I'll be there in under a minute.”

“Thank you, Walker. You'll be waiting here for me, right?”

“Yes, Ma'am. I'm here. After your date ends, at midnight at the latest, I'll await you within 30 minutes as usual. If you're not back right in time, I'll be looking for you. Promised. Take care, y/n.”

You nodded at Walker and your mouth formed a silent ‘thank you’ and you gave him a shy smile. You felt a bit embarrassed because he knew exactly why you were here and what you were going to do here next. He also knew it was the first time you would spend intimate hours with a client. But Walker was your protector, your support since you worked as an escort lady and he would never judge you.

Loki guided you through the entrance hall to the lift. When you stood beside him in the lift he saw your hands trembling. You were nervous, and so was he. Was this your first time, too? Having paid sex in a hotel? You were an escort lady and you didn't answer his question concerning this issue and it wouldn't be unusual or bad if you'd done it before. He had casual sex with several women, too…but not paid sex yet. But he didn't mind. He just wanted to be together with you and he just hoped you weren't afraid of him. He would never hurt you.

You were so nervous and tried not to show him how much. You wanted to be self-confident and tempting for him. That's what he would pay for and he deserved first-class treatment from you.

“Come,” you said to him when the lift had reached the floor where your room was and took him by his hand. His hand felt good and soft and somehow it took some of your nervousness away.

You opened the door with the keycard and entered the spacious suite. Pure luxury welcomed you two. A comfortable king-size bed with many fluffy cushions and an oversized duvet made of silk, across from the bed a big sofa, and a coffee table with a bowl filled with exotic fruits. A golden champagne bucket with a bottle of the best champagne, next to it a bottle of the best Scottish whisky and of course, two champagne glasses and two whisky tumblers were also placed on the table. Dimmed lights created a comfortable atmosphere and an amazing view over downtown Manhattan through two floor-to-ceiling window fronts crowned this luxury suite.

Next to the bed stood a vanity table and a chair, your small travel bag already waiting there for you, non-visibly and discreetly next to the vanity table. You had some personal things in it, things like spare clothes, additional lingerie, condoms, cigarettes and some toiletries. You stored the bag at REA a few days ago after you had told Rhea you were bookable for the weekends now too. In case you would spend unforeseen intimate hours with a client, Rhea could bring it there and prepare the suite for the tryst. She preferred to do it herself for her escort ladies to ensure that everything was perfectly prepared for them. The suite also enclosed a first-class bathroom with a big bathtub for two and a half-open shower, big enough to dance in it. It also had a floor-to-ceiling window and the view over Manhattan was breathtaking.

While Loki crossed the room to look out of the window you took some things out of your bag. You draped your black kimono with lace-trimmed sleeves over the back of the chair and a bottle of lube and condoms on the nightstand. In long, slow strides Loki went from the floor-to-ceiling windows over to you and took the bottle of lube from the nightstand into his hand. His hand was so big and the bulging veins were such a turn-on for you that you had to suppress a whimper. Did you ever find veiny hands that sexy?

Loki raised an eyebrow. ”Will we need that?” he asked, astonished.

“Depends on how wet you can get me,” you answered with your arms crossed and a smirk curved his lips because of your sassy undertone.

“No one complained so far,” he responded, still smirking and looking deep into your eyes. Gosh, this guy could undress you with just his gaze.

“If you say so,” you said and walked slowly over to the coffee table. You poured some of the whisky into the tumblers and passed one to Loki who already walked over to you.

“Cheers, handsome,” and you raised your glass. You definitely needed a whisky now to calm your nerves down. Loki raised his glass as well and took a sip, never breaking eye contact with you. This gaze…

“We should talk about the conditions now, the rules we have. Do you agree?”

You didn't want to beat around the bush and clarify this issue quickly.

Loki took a seat on the sofa, one arm placed on the backrest and crossed one leg over the other. “Okay, you start,” he offered you.

You took a deep breath. You were trembling inwardly and before you gave him your clear rules and limits you took a further sip of your drink. The whisky slowly warmed your stomach.

“Okay, here we go. I won't do any perverse shit or hard-core sex. No slaps or spanking, no degrading, no anal sex. I won't suck your dick or swallow your sperm. You can go rough on me but you won't get brutal. No extensive foreplay and you will use a condom. No kissing! You won't kiss me on my mouth, you won't kiss any part of my face. Don't you dare mark me in any way! I'm not your property and my body stays markless. You're not my only client and my body is my asset. If you do anything during the act I don't like, I'll let you know and you'll stop doing it. A no is a no. In case you violate my rules, I'll end our fuck session immediately.” You took a deep breath again, awaiting his reaction to your statement. Your heart raced as if you had run a marathon.

“Any questions?”

Loki stared silently at you, processing every single word you had said. You had been very clear and he understood and accepted your rules and boundaries. He still had some questions because maybe one or two of his rules would collide with one of yours. He also wondered what you were thinking he wanted to do to you. He hadn't even thought about most of the things you said. Yes, he preferred being in control and he was dominant, which didn't mean he disliked the gentle way of sex. But maybe you had different experiences.

“What about some…kinky stuff?” He asked you cautiously.

“Depends on the kink, I'd say. But I have a limited scope for negotiation,” you answered firmly, looking into his eyes. You were still standing at the coffee table and he, still sitting on the sofa, continued staring at you.

“What about a blindfold?” He wanted to know.

"Negotiable."

“Soft bondage?” He took a sip of his whisky.

“What do you want to tie up?” You questioned, irritated.

“Your wrists,” he said, his voice deep and warm.

“No and non-negotiable,” you answered calmly but strictly.

“I don't want you to touch me or my naked skin during the act. That's why I need your wrists tied up. And I want to blindfold you because I don't want you to look at me while we fornicate. Furthermore, I'm always in control and as I already told you, I'm not a tender lover which also means I don't do aftercare,” Loki responded firmly, his voice dark and raspy. “But I'll treat you carefully and with respect,” he said more softly now. “You can rely on it.” His voice was so dark and soft, it sent shivers down your spine.

“Why am I not allowed to touch you?” you were curious about that. Men liked to get touched.

“Why am I not allowed to kiss you?”

“I asked first.”

“I find it unpleasant. I don't really enjoy getting touched especially when it comes to my naked skin, my face or my hair. To get touched there, particularly by a woman I'm not in a relationship with, is too intimate and I don't want that."

That was only halfway true. He knew he could never stand your touch, he would completely lose it, when you would caress his body. And also he would probably kiss the heck out of you, you were too hard to resist. He wanted nothing more than to feel your soft lips on his. But you had forbidden him to kiss you and he had to accept it.

“For me, to kiss a man on his mouth or to get my mouth kissed by him means to be in love with each other. We're not in love with each other, Luke. We're far away from that.”

You sounded harsher than you wanted but you knew if you'd kiss him or he'd kiss you, there would be no way back. And you should better not forget you still had a professional relationship with him.

“That's true, I've nothing to add,” he responded affirmatively.

“Fine, guess that answers that.”

You emptied your whisky and it would be the first and last whisky for tonight. You had to keep your senses clear. You took off your blazer and kicked off your high heels. It was such a relief but you suppress a redemptive sigh. You needed to feel a bit more comfortable before you could go on. Loki's gaze wandered down your body and he couldn't even imagine how much your feet must hurt from these ‘little beasts’. He liked that name you had for your high heels. He appreciated that you wore them for him and accepted the pain they caused. He loved you wearing them, they looked extremely sexy but he didn't want you to suffer for him. He could give you a proper foot massage, that would be a bare minimum he could do for you. Did it count for you as foreplay? If so, he better shouldn't do it.

“Okay, Luke, you can blindfold me if it makes you feel more comfortable but my wrist and hands remain free.”

It was okay for you to not see him but you needed your hands to be untied in case you had to end a possible unacceptable situation or to reach for your phone. You won't discuss it.

“I offer you to put my hands above or behind my head and to keep them there. I promise you I won't touch you,” you told him.

You'd love to run your fingers through his hair, caressing his scalp and tugging at his dark locks. They looked so soft.

“I don't know you well enough to trust you with that. And I cannot allow you to touch me.” Loki placed the whisky tumbler on the coffee table and leaned back again. He looked sceptically at you.

You chuckled in disbelief and placed your hands on your hips. “But I have to trust you with that blindfold, huh? I don't know you well enough either. I cannot even see what you're doing once you're settled between my legs and… fucking me, or what you're doing before that.”

A frustrated laugh escaped your throat. “So we have to find a compromise, Mr. Luke Larsson.” You made a pause. “I allow you to blindfold me and you allow me to keep my hands above my head without tying my wrists… Do we have a deal?” you wanted to know, waiting for his answer.

Loki considered your offer and he couldn't find an argument against it because you were right. He couldn't demand everything from you when he wasn't willing to give something in return. Trust has never been his biggest strength but in your case, it seemed possible for him to trust you with that matter. And damn it, he wanted you so much. He was on edge since you tried to entice him at the gallery so he nodded slowly.

“We have a deal, Miss Sugar Black,” and a mischievous smile curved his lips.

You turned around and went towards the vanity table and sat down on the chair. You took your cigarettes and a lighter out of your bag and onto the table, and you prepared your phone and held it in your hand.

“There are two more things, Luke. I'll keep my phone close to me and our tryst ends at midnight sharp. Got it?”

Slowly like a panther on the way to hunt his prey he stood up from the sofa, took his jacket off and walked over to the bed where you just put your phone on the bedside table.

Loki was already behind you when you stood straight again, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“Fine with me,” he murmured. His deep voice made you shiver.

“Is this okay for you?”, he wanted to know while his fingers circled gently on your shoulders.

You tilted your head a bit and you felt his nose nudging your earlobe. He was so gentle. “Yes, it's okay for me, Luke.”

“You always smell so good, Sugar,” and he sniffed your neck. It was tickling you and you tried not to giggle.

“Want me to run a bath for you, for relaxation…I could join you,” you offered him sweetly.

“No, I'm used to bathing alone… do you really want to get laid by me, Sugar?” He whispered into your ear.

“Yeah, I want it, Luke, I want you.” It was the truth and you wouldn't back down. You wanted him more than you thought. He nibbled at your earlobe and down your throat, gently as a feather. You could barely hold back a whimper and you bit on your lower lip.

“I have wanted it since I got to know you, sweet thing. Perhaps I knew it all along, just wouldn't admit it to myself. Does it scare you?” His hands wandered down your arms and his mouth lingered on the skin of your neck, his breath fanning along your throat. Your body was immediately covered in goosebumps. The firm muscles of his torso were tightly pressed against your back, his hard-on pressed against your ass.

“No, other things scare me more and they have nothing to do with you.” Your voice wasn't more than a whisper.

“I want to show you pleasure, sweet thing, pleasure you've never felt before,” His voice was pure velvet, his breathing calmly and evenly.

“You don't know that, you don't know me, Luke” you answered silently.

“I can sense it, Sugar. The way your body responded to mine when we danced, how it responds to mine now and the way you look at me, gives it away. But I won't force you, I only take what you're willing to give me.”

How could you deny him? You have never met anyone like him. Dark, arrogant, magnetic, seductive, hot as hell but also caring, gentle and interested without being intrusive. He scared you sometimes, with his piercing stare right into your soul, his whole behaviour and his subtle possessiveness, the way he had held you in his arms and grabbed your wrist as if you were his. You should be completely terrified by him but you weren't. You maybe should stay away from him but you couldn't. You were aroused in a way you had never been before and you wished for nothing more than spending more time, more dates with him. But he might not book you again after tonight after he finally had you in the sheets and his carnal desires were satisfied. You wanted to give yourself to him even if you knew you might not satisfy him or be able to feel the pleasure he promised you.

Loki was so hard already and he wished he had more time with you. Your soft body closely pressed against his, felt so perfect and he wanted to enjoy every minute with you to the fullest but time was ticking. He didn't know how long he would last tonight. He hadn't been with a woman for too long and you were so cute and seductive. He saw you unbuttoning your blouse and he helped you to take it off. Your trousers followed and then you were just in your white lace underwear. You slowly turned around to face him. You curled one arm around his neck, and with your other hand, you began to unbutton his shirt, the silk scarf still around his neck. He would use it later for another purpose. At your sight in that white lace, he could hardly restrain himself. You looked so innocent and enticing at the same time. When you had unbuttoned his shirt completely you tugged it out of his slacks and unbuckled his belt. His hands lingered on your hips when you cupped his still-clothed but rock-hard manhood and felt him throbbing in your hand.

“How do you want me?” you asked him so gently that he couldn't believe you just did a job here and how easy you made it for him to forget about that. He slipped one of the straps of your bra off your shoulder, pushed it down your arm and caressed your skin tenderly. He felt you shivering. He hoped you weren't scared.

“I want you on the bed, on your back. ”

“I want to leave my bra on,” you whispered.

“No problem, sweet thing and I leave my shirt on,” he answered, holding your gaze and giving you a little smile.

Loki laid you gently down on the bed. He looked so unbelievably sexy with his open shirt. His chiselled chest with the right amount of soft, curly chest hair, his defined abs and his trimmed happy trail beneath his belly button made your mouth watering and you wanted to lick and bite every inch of his perfect torso. His whole body was pure sin but you weren't allowed to touch his naked torso.

You were relieved that you could leave your bra on. It lets you feel less vulnerable and more safe. You couldn't really explain it but you felt better with your bra on. Maybe it was the same for him with his shirt. When you lay down on the bed, he followed you promptly. You were on your back as he asked you to do. He laid on his side right next to you, propped up on one elbow and cupping your breast, his thumb tenderly teasing your nipples through the lace, one after the other. They hardened instantly under his touch and it let your clit throb with desire and your arousal drenched your thong. He stripped his scarf from his neck and you knew what would follow.

“Are you ready, Sugar?” You nodded yes. “I need your words, sweet thing,” he demanded.

“Yes,” it was more of a squeak, you could barely speak because of desire and nervousness. But you were sure he'd stay true to his words and would not harm you. He covered your eyes with his scarf and tied the ends behind your head above your hair bun together, avoiding too much pressure on your eyes. You were afraid and aroused at the same time. Was that even possible?

“Hands above your head… don't move them and don't remove the blindfold from your eyes.” he stated.

“I won't, I promise,” you answered silently.

You felt him leaving the bed to get rid of his shoes, socks, his trousers and underwear. His shirt stayed on, he just rolled up the sleeves. He came back to you and laid down again. You expected him to quickly fuck you but he took his time with you. You felt his engorged cock pressed against your thigh. He must be aching for relief, he must've been on edge the whole evening …just because of you. You should give him his relief soon, you didn't want to torture him further. You spread your legs for him so he could settle between them. But he made no effort to penetrate you immediately.

He didn't kiss any part of your body. You just felt his nose and his mouth brushing softly over your skin. He started at your throat down to your cleavage, dipping down between the swell of your breasts, further down to your belly button and your hips, his hands slowly sliding down your sides. In one swift move he pulled your thong down and you lifted your legs so he could get it off of you completely. He grazed his lips over your pubic mound and you voluntarily spread your legs for him again and you felt his soft mouth on your pussy lips. Goosebumps, all over your body were goosebumps. Your nipples were hardened further and you suppress a moan. He gave your clit a few gentle licks before he made his way upwards again over your tummy to your throat and your ear.

Everything felt so much more intense because you were robbed of one of your senses and his wonderful scent added to your arousal. You didn't expect such feelings, you didn't expect such tender treatment. Luke could do anything to you but he was patient and careful. You weren't used to it and it irritated you, not in a bad way though but you were just used to quickies or a man just having it his way. Why must he be so tender and caring, you could barely handle it and you should better not get used to it because he wasn't yours and you would likely never see him again after tonight. You were glad you couldn't look at him. If you could look into his beautiful eyes it would be your undoing and you couldn't allow this to happen.

“Are you sure you want this? Do I still have your consent?” He whispered into your ear.

“Yes, go on.” You said it harsher than you intended to.

He got up on his knees and shifted to the side. You immediately missed his warmth and his body close to yours. You heard him unfoil a condom and shortly after, he caged you beneath him and you felt the tip of his cock nudging at your entrance. Why were you so wet? Have you ever been so wet? You never became that wet so quickly. And there hadn't been much foreplay. You didn't even need the lube. What was wrong with you?

“May I?”

“Yes, just go on,” you said impatiently. You were irritated because of your bodily reaction you didn't expect in this situation.

“Don't move your hands, Sugar! Don't even think about touching me!” he murmured darkly.

“And you don't even think about kissing me!” You responded.

“Do I have your consent?” He questioned again.

“Why are you asking again? You talk too much!” you whispered.

“Just to be sure,” he growled.

“Keep going before I change my mind,” you growled quietly back.

When he carefully penetrated you, slowly and inch by inch, a deep moan escaped your mouth you didn't know you were capable of. You had never felt that full and it felt good. Unfortunately, it felt good and when he began to move in and out of you, it felt even better. No, no, no you shouldn't enjoy it, you shouldn't allow yourself to like it that he made you feel good. And anyway he wouldn't last very long, would he? Just two or three minutes more and he would be done. That's the way it always has been in former relationships. You were used to being left high and dry. You weren't even in a relationship with Luke, he was just your client so how dare he give you that good feeling? And he made it worse with his nose in the crook of your neck, his toneless moans and his chest rubbing over your breasts, his thumb teasing your nipples. You should distract yourself, should be possible for two or three minutes.

Did you do your laundry? Was there enough milk in the fridge for your coffee in the morning? Did you already buy new shampoo and body lotion? Another moan of pleasure escaped your throat when you felt his cock moving deep inside of you, hitting a spot you didn't know existed. How dare he distract you from your distraction? And why did his soft skin feel so damn good on yours? And when did you wrap your legs around his waist?

You had to end it immediately, you couldn't stand this good feeling anymore. There was only one way to do it. You were an expert in it. An ability honed over the years. The reasons had been different ones but you knew how to do it. You faked it. You let your walls willingly clench around his sensitive cock. You knew he was close, it seemed it had been a while since he fucked with someone. So it took him just two more strokes and a faked moan of pleasure of yours and he came hard. If you know how to clench your cunt around the dick and if you moan just right, they go crazy. That's how it worked, that's what always led to success. You gave him a short moment before you pushed him off you, pulling the blindfold hurriedly off of your eyes, throwing it aside and standing up from the bed.

You grabbed your kimono from the back of the chair and covered your body with it by taking it on and tying its belt. Your job was done and he had to go now. No aftercare, no small talk, as agreed. Your cunt was still throbbing, unsatisfied lust running through your body. But this feeling was nothing new to you. The feeling of having fooled him was worse than the feeling of being unsatisfied. You grabbed your cigarette pack and lighter from the vanity table and lit up a cigarette. You had given up smoking several years ago but now you were having the urgent need to take a drag and inhale the unhealthy stuff to calm the bad feeling down with it.

Loki didn't know how much he was in need of carnal satisfaction. Of course, he jerked off regularly under the shower or on his bed but it wasn't as satisfying as burying himself into the warmth of a wonderful woman, a woman like you. Your skin was so soft and your scent was so beguiling. A mixture of roses in the summer rain and honey. He wasn't allowed to kiss your lips or your pretty face so he just let his lips travel down over your gorgeous, tempting body and when he reached your most intimate part and you opened your thighs for him further, he gave your clit just a few gentle licks. You had already been so wet without him giving you a proper, deserved preparation before claiming you completely. You tasted so good and deliciously sweet, he'd love to have more of it, more of you but you didn't want extensive foreplay which he accepted.

He wasn't sure but you seemed to enjoy your intimate encounter, he could tell because of how your body reacted to him but something felt odd. It seems you forbid yourself sexual pleasure. He wasn't used to it because normally when he pleasured a woman they wanted him to give them endless pleasure and the sweetest fulfilment. But maybe he shouldn't forget that you were doing a ‘job’ here. You surely thought this here was just about him, getting satisfied in every way but it wasn't how he saw it. He wanted you to feel good too. At least he hoped you felt safe with him and that you wouldn't hate him afterwards.

When you unconsciously wrapped your beautiful legs around his waist and pulled him closer to you, allowing him to get deeper, it was nearly his undoing. He had dreamt of it since he had seen you for the first time and to feel you doing it sent him nearly over the edge. It didn't take him long and he came hard when he felt you suddenly clenching around him but he could've sworn your climax wasn't that close. Shortly after he came you pushed him away and he felt kind of irritated but he didn't mind, he told you he doesn't do aftercare. Just the act, nothing more. But to his own surprise, it would've felt nice to stay a bit longer in that intimate position.

“Are you okay?" He asked you thoughtfully, still lying on the bed and catching his breath.

“Yeah, of course,” you tried to sound lighthearted but Loki doubted it.

He got out of bed, picked up his underwear from the floor and headed for the bathroom to clean himself. You were still smoking your cigarette, fidgeting nervously with it.

“My performance wasn't sublime and a little bit disappointing for you, wasn't it?” He said when he returned from the bathroom. He and he asked you that question as if you had booked him for sex. It wasn't his obligation to satisfy you. It was your job and your obligation to satisfy him.

“What?” You looked astonished.

“Your orgasm.”

“What do you mean?” You questioned him, irritated.

“Your orgasm. ..you faked it,” he said.

“I didn't," you said unbelievingly and appalled. He had noticed it? How? “You came good and hard, right?” You answered a bit annoyed. You had to keep your walls up. You had to keep your feelings out.

“That's not the point, Sugar.”

“That is exactly the point, handsome. I did my job and apparently I did it well.”

You glanced at him. Could he please get completely dressed again? This guy just dressed in an unbuttoned shirt with rolled-up sleeves and black briefs wasn't just distracting you, it also made you want to snuggle up to him.

“Did you enjoy it at least a little bit? I don't want you to feel used,” he asked concernedly.

You gave him no answer. You enjoyed it much more than you were ready to admit.

Frowning and smirking unbelievingly, Loki walked past you to sit down on the end of the bed, resting his forearms on his thighs and staring at your back. He hated cuddling and cuddling after sex even more but he wanted to hug you and keep you in his arms. Why didn't you tell him if you had enjoyed it or not?

“Who did this to you? Who hurt you so much?”

“Why would you want to know that?”

“Maybe because I care about you.”

“Mind your own business, Luke. We just had sex. This here has nothing to do with love or care or anything like that. I just expanded my service for you. I neither need love nor am I looking for it. I don't need a savior. I need money and I work for it, that's all,” you dragged on your cigarette, turned around and looked provocatively at him, blowing the smoke out. He looked devastatingly sexy with his rumpled, open shirt and tousled black curls. You just wanted to hug and kiss him. But both would violate your rules.

“Everyone has their secrets, Luke. You have yours and I have mine and there's nothing to complain about. We owe each other nothing. This is a business relationship and we both got what we wanted. You pay for me and I give you my time and my body. I'm sure you're done with me now. Thank you for booking me,” you said bitterly.

“What makes you think I don't want to see you again? Do you think so badly of me? Did I treat you that disrespectfully?” He asked you silently, your words stinging in his chest.

“No, no you didn't. It's not you, it's me. I'm an escort lady who is also a call girl now. I cannot fall any deeper. So why should you care about me? Maybe you'd like to try someone else now because I couldn't fulfil your expectations tonight. Some other lovely escort ladies are working for REA…” You suppressed the upcoming tears and swallowed hard on the lump in your throat.

There was so much pain and sadness in your voice, that it made Loki's heart clench painfully in his chest.

“That's not how I see it, Sugar. And I can assure you I don't want to meet any other escort lady… just you. You shouldn't speak so badly about yourself because… it's not the truth. Whatever happened to you and caused this dreadful situation… You're a fallen angel, someone has broken your wings and if I ever find this cruel prick who hurt you so much, I'll kill him.” Loki stated, his voice full of compassion.

“Don't make any promises you'll never keep, Luke. ” You struggled to make your voice work. “It's not midnight yet but I want you to go now...please,” you asked of him.

“Can I really leave you alone? I could…,”

“I'm good,” you interrupted him quickly, “don't worry. Walker will drive me home so no need for you to worry about me.”

“What exactly is Walker for you? Is he your bodyguard? He protects you, right?” Loki questioned.

He began to dress himself while questioning. It was like a reverse strip. How could someone be so sexy? How was it even possible to get dressed in a sexy manner?

“He is my chauffeur, my chaperone, my life assurance in case someone becomes a menace,” you told him calmly.

“I'm genuinely glad to hear that.”

“Yes, I feel much better knowing he's there for me.” You answered genuinely.

“I feel much better with that, too,” Loki said and put his jacket on. He headed to the suite door and turned around to look at you.

“Can I ask you one last question?” You shrugged and nodded.

“Do you believe in love, Sugar?” You hesitated with the answer.

“Do you, Luke?”

“I already told you, no, I don't.”

“And I don't either. I don't believe in love anymore. Someone has destroyed it for me. Love is overrated…and sex too.” You tried to smile and look self-confident.

“Is that so Sugar?” He asked you sadly.

You smiled softly at him and shrugged a shoulder, tears brimming in your eyes. You glanced at him, searching for the right words but unfortunately, you couldn't find them.

Loki made an effort to open the door and you swallowed thickly before you found your voice again.

“Luke…You have a completely wrong image of yourself. You might be dominant but…You are a tender lover. Thank you for being so…careful. And I'm sure there's someone out there to love you. But it's not me.” He could barely hear you because you ou spoke so quietly.

Loki smiled unbelievingly at you and opened the door.

“Good night, Sugar. Take care.” He said calmly.

“Good night, Luke,” you answered silently, tears brimming painfully in your eyes and with a soft thud he closed the door and was gone.

You allowed two tears to escape your eyes, wiped them angrily away, and opened your tight hair bun. You got a headache from it. You would take a quick shower, it wouldn't take you longer than fifteen minutes to get ready and then, Walker would drive you home. You weren't sure if you would find sleep tonight. There were too many thoughts in your mind. You felt just exhausted now. You took off your kimono and the bra, dropped them on the floor, and headed for the bathroom. After the hurried shower, you got dressed into the fresh clothes that were stored in your bag and put every piece of your worn clothes, the high heels, and your other belongings into the bag. There was also a package of biscuits in it but you would look for it on your way down to the limousine. It was time to go now and you left the hotel suite.

While walking through the streets of Manhattan in the middle of the night, Loki couldn't stop thinking about you. He always refused to gain too much feelings for a girl but with you, it was something completely different. He wasn't overly proud of what he did tonight. He lusted for you, wanted you but now he felt bad. Not for himself, but for you. Was it right to take your offer? He had used you, he took advantage of your situation you were in. That's how it felt for him now. He had your consent and he knew you wanted it too. He was a skilled lover, always striving to satisfy his sexual partner but he wasn't even able to do that for you. He wished you would've enjoyed it but maybe by taking your offer, he had just added more to your desperation and the difficult situation you were stuck in.

You had told him you would only escort him and then, you reversed your decision. Why? Because you lusted for him or liked him as a person? Surely not. He needed to find out why you needed more money because to sleep with a client meant to get more money than just escorting them. After sleeping with you he felt more worried about you. Maybe this was intrusive but he wanted to help you. His inner turmoil got the better of him and something about you touched his heart. On his way to hail a taxi on his way home, he recognised that he was missing his scarf.

‘Damn,’ he scolded himself. Turning on his heels, he walked hurriedly back to the hotel. When Loki left the lift, he hurried down the hallway with long steps back to the suite. Maybe you were still there and you could open him so he could get his scarf back. A woman walked past him when he was on his way back to the suite, casually dressed in jeans, an oversized black blazer and trainers, busily looking for something in a bag, her head deeply stuck in it, her hair covering her face. She paid no attention to him when he greeted her and he kept walking. He knocked at the door and waited for a minute or two but no one answered or opened the door. You must've been gone already. If you say yes to a further date with him he could ask you if you took his scarf with you and you surely would give it back to him. Or he would ask tomorrow at the reception desk if the housekeeping staff found his scarf.

When you left the entrance hall of the hotel, Walker was already awaiting you. He had just driven the limousine to the entrance of the hotel and opened the car's door for you. You tossed your bag on the backseat and got in the car. Walker rounded the limousine, got into the car himself, started the engine and you fastened your seat belt. You hadn't found the biscuits in the depths of your bag and now you didn't feel like looking for it anymore. You didn't even feel like listening to music anymore so you took your earplugs out and put them into the pocket of your blazer. You leaned your forehead against the glass of the side window and stared at the glittering lights of Manhattan by night. Walker observed you through the rear-view mirror.

“Are you all right, y/n?” he asked concernedly.

You turned your head towards his gaze in the mirror and nodded.

“Yes, I'm ok, Walker, thank you,” and you leaned your head against the glass again.

“Mr.Larsson…, was he good to you?”

“Yeah, … yeah he was,” you answered silently, and you kept staring at the passing city lights.

“Good. He seems to me to be a man with decency and manners.”

“He's wonderful, Walker. He was the best,” and you fought against the tears in your eyes. You couldn't allow yourself to like him too much. ‘Do not fall in love with a client. Do not gain feelings for someone who would never be yours.’ You didn't even know if you would ever see Luke again.

Maybe it was too late already, maybe you had already gained feelings for him. The worst case might have already happened. You might not be able to draw a line between sex and love. Well, you guessed that's what you'd call an occupational hazard.

You should stay away from him but you wished to see him again. Even though you might not be able to keep pretending everything between you two is just professional business.

🌹🥂🌃🌹🥃🌃🌹🥂❤️🌃🌹🥃🌃🌹🥂🌃

Tag list:

@lokisprettygirl @faesimps @anukulee @gruftiela @fandxmslxt69 @buttercupcookies-blog @chantsdemarins @fictive-sl0th @justjoanne242 @km-ffluv @stupidthoughtsinwriting @lovingchoices14 @wheredafandomat @lokixryss @huntress-artemiss @smolvenger

[sashaisready]

Chapter Nineteen - Best of luck

Bucky Barnes Mob AU x Femme Reader

You're hard at work in Pepper's Bakery when notorious mob boss James 'Bucky' Barnes darkens your doorway one typical afternoon, and life is never the same again

Warning: Dark themes - same warnings as previous chapter, also includes minor injury with mention of blood

18+ - see Masterlist for full list of warnings

Chapter 20

Series Masterlist

Bucky is settling down to go to bed when his phone buzzes. He’s in a bad mood, still furious with how things went down with you earlier.

He takes a sip from this tumbler of whiskey as he picks up his device. He’s very surprised to see your name light up his screen. You’ve sent him a couple of messages. He frowns as he swipes to open his phone.

Sweetie - I’m sorry we fought. Please help!! I’ve been taken somewhere - these men are so scary. Please come help me x love you

Sweetie - here’s my location. Please come soon - I need you. Xx love you so much

The second message included a pin with your live location. You seemed to be somewhere on the outskirts of the city.

He furrows his brow, thinking carefully as he holds the phone against his chin.

After a moment, he opens up your messages again and begins to type a response.

**

Rumlow was holding your phone eagerly as he watched the screen, waiting for Bucky to respond.

You chewed your lip anxiously as you looked around the room. The men all stared back at you. You know pinning all of your hopes on Bucky to save the day is a naïve plan so you’re frantically trying to come up with another idea to get out of here. If you could just be left alone for a moment…

Your phone vibrates and Rumlow laughs excitedly.

“Here’s your boy…” he chuckles.

His thick fingers are smashing at your phone screen as he brings up the message. But his face falls, and he throws the phone over to Pierce who begins to read aloud.

“Doll…sorry to hear you’re in a spot of bother. But I told you I’d leave you alone like you wanted and I’m a man of my word. Best of luck - JBB x”.

Your heart sinks into your stomach and you suddenly feel like you might faint. You go limp in the chair. You didn’t expect Bucky to actually come, but hearing it out loud is still hard to take.

“Aww, well that’s a shame” mutters Pierce sarcastically. “Plenty of fish in the sea though, right honey?”

He taps your cheek roughly and you realise you’re trembling.

“Fuck!!!” Rumlow yells in frustration. “What are we going to do now?

Pierce shushes him soothingly. He seems to be the calm and measured presence alongside Rumlow’s hot-headedness. It strikes you that he’s like Bucky in that way.

Or maybe Bucky is like him. He learnt it all from somewhere.

“Gentlemen….let’s just give this a bit longer huh? We all know from personal experience what Barnes says and does can be two different things…” Pierce muses serenely. “We’ve got time. The girl isn’t going anywhere. We’ll be ready for him if he shows up.”

“So you think he could still come?” Rumlow questions. “I dunno boss, she seems pretty adamant he doesn’t give a fuck…”

Pierce shrugs. “Let’s regroup and discuss.”.

He gestures to them through the double doors. “Follow me, let’s go somewhere a bit more private. Prying eyes and all that” he winks at you.

“Princess, we’ll be right back. Jones here will babysit you for now” he nods his head towards a man holding a large pistol who just blankly stares back at you. He somehow looks like a perfect mix of every bad guy you’ve ever seen in a movie.

“Get comfortable, sweetie” Pierce adds as he leaves the room.

You despise all of the names he gives you...honey...sweetie...princess. Your hatred for him seethes, flowing through your veins.

As the rest of the group head out with a low chatter, Jones moves closer to you. He watches you carefully, circling your chair and pointing his gun at you. It’s just the two of you left in the room now.

You sit up slightly, the beginnings of a plan forming in your head. It’s all you have, so it’s worth a shot.

You purposefully make yourself look as meek as possible, allowing your tears to fall as you flutter your eyelashes. You whimper softly. It’s not too much of a stretch as you’ve been on the verge of crying since they grabbed you.

Jones just watches you silently, seemingly unmoved by your tears.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to cry…” you tell him softly.

“I’m just so scared” you sigh. You move your legs apart slightly, moving your cleavage forward just the tiniest bit. You adjust your thighs so that your dress rides up Jones can see a flash of your underwear between your legs, but subtle enough that it doesn’t look like it’s on purpose.

Jones takes the bait, leaning forward and leering at you. You feel dirty. But it’s a means to an end.

Now or never.

“Do…do you think you could get me some water, please? I’m sorry to ask. My throat is just so dry…” you plead to him, slightly pathetically.

He looks at you for a moment, stealing another glance at your breasts and between your legs. Then he nods silently and heads for the doors.

You nearly gasp, amazed that was all it took.

Men, huh?

But you don’t have long. You cast your mind back to a YouTube video you watched in the midst of a late night True Crime binge. It was a tutorial on how to break out of zip ties. HYDRA were sloppy for not using real ropes, no wonder Bucky toppled them so easily - but you supposed they didn’t see you as a real threat. Well, you were happy to be underestimated if it worked to your advantage.

The second the door closed behind Jones you began to raise your arms high above your back and crash them down at full force as you flex your hands. It takes a few tries but you manage it, the pressure snaps the tie and you free yourself. You gasp, momentarily celebrating your win with a muted gleeful screech.

But there’s no time. Jones will be back any second. You spring from the chair and fling off your remaining shoe - it’ll only hold you back. You sprint across the warehouse to the other door you spotted earlier, it’s on the opposite side to where Pierce and his men went so you hope and pray that you won’t bump into them.

The door opens into a labyrinth of corridors. You fling yourself down them, looking for a decent hiding place to give you time to think about your next move. You turn down them almost at random, just desperate to put as much distance between you and HYDRA. Thankfully there are so many routes that it’ll likely create confusion when they come after you. You find yourself praying silently that you don’t encounter anyone, and that they’re all on the other side of the building. You pass lots of rooms, old offices and supply closets. You just need to pick one that they don’t find right away.

Eventually, in the thick of the maze of hallways, you find a door which leads to a stairwell. You run up it, aware they would’ve noticed your absence by now. This building seems to be huge with a lot of ground to cover so you hope the search will keep them occupied for longer. Checking all of the rooms here will take some time at least.

You find yourself in some sort of attic. It’s pitch black but you are too fearful to find the light switch in case it draws attention to you. Your eyes adjust to the darkness as you bump into old boxes and equipment and stumble through the mess. Maybe you can lay low here for a while and think of a new escape plan. If you could just evade them for a bit longer, and then a bit longer after that…Maybe you could flee the building altogether and flag down a passing car once you reach the road.

Your heart is beating so fast that your chest is practically shaking. You’ve never been more frightened.

You think of Bucky briefly. You’re sad that it ended the way it did, regretful that you didn’t get to make peace with him before this. It’s likely that this will be your last day on earth, and even though it’s his fault that you’re here - you feel a pang of regret. You feel anger too, anger for everything he put you through - for leaving you to die here. You think of your final kiss with him instead, the memory sustaining you as you press yourself into a corner, pushing your face against the wall as you manoeuvre into the small space…

You hiss in pain and pull yourself away from the wall as your hand leaps up to your cheek. Something has cut you, a loose nail or bolt or something equally sharp. It’s broken the skin on your face, and you can feel blood gushing down your cheek.

You scoff in disbelief as you clutch at it, annoyed that if you somehow survive the psychopathic crime gang then you’ll end up dying of an infection from an ancient nail instead.

You hold your hand against the wound, then rip a section of your dress off and use it to put pressure on the cut, slowing down the bleeding.

And you wait.

And wait.

[tngrace]

Prologue

And here we go finally! Part 1 of Maverick Chronicles. Will update on Fridays. Enjoy!

Tumbler: Masterlist: Main, Mav Chronicles ; A03

Even at five, Pete knew his world was changing. The men on the porch caught his mom when she went down, but he’s not sure he’ll ever forget her cries. She’d always been a little distant when his dad was away, but when his dad never came back, he lost his mom as well. She stayed in her room, only emerging to get another drink and restart the song. He hated that song. He’s not surprised when he comes home from school one day a year and half later to find officers at his house and his mom is gone. He doesn’t cry; he lost his mom a long time ago. 

None of his relatives wanted him; he was a young child who had already been through too much. He was already acting out at school, getting into trouble, but no one took the time to see that he just needed a little attention, a little love. When none of his aunts would take him, he was placed in the system; a system that wasn’t very kind to him. A system that reinforced his beliefs that no one would want him, that he was inherently bad, that he deserved all the pain and heartache he received. But what he didn’t know was that someone was fighting for him; someone, two someones, wanted him very much. 

When he was eight and a half, Mike and Carrie started to come visit. He vaguely remembers Mike working with his dad, but it takes a couple of visits before he warms up to them. The social worker is surprised with how well-behaved and nice Pete is when he is with Mike and Carrie. But they talk to him, they listen, they give him attention and they’re nice to him. He likes them, and he really likes when Mike tells him stories about his dad. He trusts them, and he’s always so sad when they leave. He doesn’t show it, showing his tears are a weakness in his current foster father’s eyes, but he always cries for a solid hour when Mike and Carrie leave. He’s always so surprised when they come back too. 

On their fifth visit they bring their daughters Catherine and Jamie with them. Cat’s three years older than him, but she plays with him on each visit, and she seems nice. Jamie is almost one, and she loves using Pete to pull up on. She grins at him every time she does it, and Pete can’t help but smile at her. After their tenth visit, his social worker asks if he’d like to go live with them. He doesn’t believe it, doesn’t believe they could want him full time, but he’s honest and says yes. A week later they’re in front of a judge, and he has to answer a bunch of questions honestly. When it’s over, Carrie pulls him into a hug that’s so tight, he’s sure he’s going to snap in half. “Want to go get your stuff kiddo?” Mike asks. 

“I’ve got it,” he says nodding to the backpack that’s beside him. 

He sees Mike and Carrie share a look, and he’s afraid he’s already messed up. 

“Tomorrow we’ll go shopping; or maybe when we’re back home.” 

“I’m fine,” Pete promises. He has all his important mementos and pictures in his backpack with two pairs of jeans and shirts. 

Mike gently squeezes his shoulder, but he agrees with Carrie. “Let’s get back to the room, get some food, and book the tickets home.” 

It’s a whirlwind after that, and before Pete knows it, he has his own room in a house on the beach in California. His room is between the girls, and they let him decorate it anyway he wants. It takes several months of being there, probably closer to a year if he’s being honest, before he relaxes into the fact that his room isn’t going anywhere. He starts putting his pictures out on the dresser. There’s the one of him and his dad with his dad’s plane in the background. Then there’s the one picture of the three of them where they were happy. When he comes home from school one day, he finds them in a frame next to his bed and he tries not to cry. He finds Carrie in the kitchen cooking; “Thank you,” he tells her quietly from the doorway. 

“For what sweetheart?” 

“Putting my pictures in a frame. I… I was always afraid they’d get ruined and I’d lose them.” 

Carrie kneels down for a hug, but she always waits for him to come to her. Pete runs into her arms, clinging tight. 

“You’ll never have to worry about losing them again Pete. We can even make some copies just in case, if you want.” 

Pete nods against her shoulder, as he buries his face in her neck. “Thank you mama,” he whispers. 

It’s the first time he has called her that, even though both she and Mike have told him they would be more than happy with whatever he called them, but that it was ok to think of them as mom and dad now. She hugs him tighter trying not to cry, and that is how Mike finds them after getting Cat started on her homework and getting some hugs from his two year old. 

“Everything ok?” he asks quietly, so as not to startle Pete. 

“Yea…. Yea. Everything is perfect,” Carrie gets out. Thankfully, Pete doesn’t notice the tears in her voice, but Mike does. He cocks his eyebrow at her, and she gives him a watery smile. 

Even though he’s almost ten now, Carrie picks him up and holds him. Mike walks closer and wraps his arms around them both. Pete lets out a shuddering breath as he clings to Carrie tighter. He feels safe; he feels loved, and he has for the last year. 

After a few minutes, Pete wiggles down, giving them a blinding smile before he’s off to do his own homework with Cat while Jamie runs around their feet. 

“What happened?” Mike asks once Pete is gone and Carrie falls into his arms letting the tears fall. 

“He thanked me for the picture frame and called me mama.” 

Mike’s arms tighten around her and he smiles. It took a little longer than they expected, but Pete was finally settled; he was home. 

It takes another year before he calls Mike “dad.” Pete had been sick, and Carrie couldn’t get out of work for the day. Even though it was generally frowned upon, Mike had brought him to base to rest in his office while he had class. He didn’t have any hops that day, so he figured it would be fine. When Mike comes back from class, Pete is curled on the couch in Mike’s sweatshirt, looking awful. 

“Alright kiddo, ready to go home?” Mike asks, brushing the hair off his forehead. 

Pete is burning up, so Mike gets him some more meds and then helps him up. It’s a struggle to get Pete to take them, but he finally manages to get them down, and he rests his head against Mike’s abdomen where he’s standing in front of Pete. His fingers are brushing through Pete’s hair in the way that always calms him, and Pete lets out a shuddering breath. “Don’t feel good, Dad,” he whines. 

Mike has to force himself not to react and freak Pete out, but he feels the lump in his throat all the same. “I know bud. Let’s get you home and into bed. How’s that sound?”

“Will you stay?” Pete whispers. 

“As long as you want,” Mike promises. He helps Pete up, and gives him his aviators to hide behind even though they’re way too big on the kid, and then leads him out of the office. Once home, Pete curls into his side in bed and promptly falls asleep. That’s how Carrie finds them once she gets home. 

At sixteen, Pete starts asking Mike questions about the Academy and joining the Navy. He wanted to be a pilot just like both his dads. Mike was more than pleased to answer any and all of Pete’s questions, and he snuck him on base over summer break more than he probably should’ve. But Pete had him wrapped around his little finger since the day he was born. Mike worked for those two years to get the mission he’d flown with Duke declassified so the truth could be revealed, but it was to no avail. He knew the rumors that swirled around the Navy, and he knew Pete was going to have a hard go at it, but he was still surprised when the rejection letter came. To say Pete was heartbroken was an understatement, and when he asked Mike why he thought he didn’t get in, Mike told him the truth as much as it killed him. Mike watched his carefree teenager transform before his eyes. It was the same stubbornness and determination he’d seen in his long deceased wingman that shown in his kids eyes now, and he knew nothing would stop Pete from finding a way. 

What did surprise him was Pete wanting to cut off all contact with them. Pete thought he was protecting Mike and explained it as such. Carrie was able to convince Pete that he was still able to write to her or the girls so they didn’t lose full contact with him, and Mike was relieved. He wasn’t ready to let his kid go just yet. Pete fast tracked through college, and before Mike knew it, his kid was in flight school. It was there that he met Nick and Carole, who took him into their little family like it was nothing. Mike was glad to see him gaining friends and support outside of them, and he hoped it would be a good thing for Pete. Nick and Pete seemed to click so well, and Mike wasn’t all that surprised when he’d heard they were a pilot/RIO pair. He even understood when Pete changed his emergency contacts to Nick and Carole, even if it broke Carrie’s heart just a bit.

Out of flight school, they had a brief station at Pensacola, and it was there that Pete met Tom Kazansky. He’d mostly kept his sexuality to himself as a teenager, but his older sister knew he tended to favor males. He had a suspicion that Mike and Carrie knew as well, but they’d never said anything, so he didn’t either. While it could get him a dishonorable discharge if anyone in the Navy found out, Pete made sure to always be discrete. Hence why Nick didn’t even know. But one look at Tom Kazansky, and Pete knew he had to have him. It took a couple of weeks and several, several, nights at a bar and nightclub, but Pete finally succeeded and got his man. It was one of the hottest and greatest nights of his life if he’s being honest, but the next day, he and Nick were restationed, leaving Tom behind. 

In between deployments, he would sometimes sneak home for a short visit; Carrie insisting on seeing him alive with her own eyes. It always felt great coming home, but he was always worried his connection to them would be discovered and he’d ruin Mike’s career. It was the last thing he wanted, knowing how hard his dad had worked for that top position at Top Gun, so he spent a lot of his leaves on his own or with Nick and Carole. They’d done three years of random length deployments, Mav making a name for himself in the Navy and trying to out fly Duke’s ghost, before they were sent to Top Gun. It felt odd knowing he’d actually been the second choice, and if it hadn’t been for Cougar turning in his wings, he’d still be waiting for his chance. But Mav was beyond ecstatic to be going home, and to finally be able to fly with his dad.