Decided to make it a wolf-advent today and post the second to last chapter of AFMA.

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The moon wanted them together. And now they were and he can do more than just prevent Carlos from searching, he can soothe him even before that. The thought nearly chokes him and he can sense he isn’t the only one who is constantly tethering on emotional breakdowns.

That means that he can wrap an old Iron Man apron Mateo once gave him around Carlos’ very naked body, tie it into a bow at his spine, give a squeeze to his ass, and then fold into the barrier and give up the sizzling pan to Carlos’ hands. He ignores how the scent of charred meat makes his gums itch. Carlos doesn’t, rummaging through the fridge until he finds the dark chocolate TK keeps in the crisper and feeds it to him.

They both dig into the comfort the other has provided, parts of them satiated only to fall back into bed shortly after. They rut, finding and erasing the taste of food, and come for the uncountable time that day.

I wish we could stay here, TK thinks once again. His apartment had once felt small and cramped, then too vast with Carlos’ voice being the only thing filling it instead of all of him, and now it feels exactly right.

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Guess what I will finally update tomorrow? Ah. Time for Wolf Thursday again :D Thanks for the patience.

They stay silent for a while, Carlos keeping an ear out for the distant breath, TK looking into the far distance. 

TK is the first to speak again. “I can’t really process any of this. What happened, what the humans will go through, how Sadie or Billy play into it. I–” He rubs a hand over his throat under the scarf. “I don’t know if Evergreen will ever feel the same again.”

More than anything, Carlos wishes he could smooth out the world for the people he loves, make the sharp corners disappear, safe paths only. Second to that, he wishes he could stay.

He knows what TK is about to say next and for all the times he’s been running from emotions into four legs and fur, Carlos uses his sunside tongue and teeth to spare TK that one hurt he can.

“I know that you can’t come with us. And I don’t expect you to.”

TK wrings his hands. “So you listened in on Iris and me just now?”

Carlos shakes his head, but from TK’s scent he can tell he isn’t surprised. It instantly drives daggers through Carlos’ ribcage to find all the ways they know each other by now. 

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Part Ten of the Let Me verse. A series exploring the canon relationship of Carlos and TK, while adding a slowly devoloping Dom/Sub dynamic to it.

In Reprieve

Summary:

After TK brings home a flesh-eating reptile, Carlos has an idea how to show him what kind of pet he’s actually looking for.

A/N: mild pet play. thank you @herefortarlos for the beta read.

For now, Carlos tugs the ends of the towel into an intricate knot settled under TK’s Adam’s Apple, and tests the space between it and skin with two fingers. TK’s deep swallow doesn’t go unnoticed.

“This is a bowline knot.” Carlos says, fingers slipping out from under the towel. “It won’t tighten once it’s set, no matter how hard I pull. See?” 

He demonstrates, knowing that it will only pull at the sensitive nape but won’t grow tighter. His index finger traces the front of the towel next, making TK shiver from his neck downward. 

Gathering more courage by drinking in TK’s posture, the straightness of his back, the uptilted chin and downcast eyes Carlos had taught him, he adds, “Because today, you’re going to be my good little pet.”

TK’s eyes widen. His mouth falls into shape between shock and amusement. “What?” He snorts. “Uhm…what?”

Carlos trails his fingers up over the underside of TK’s chin, scratching here to make a point before insecurities make him back out. To his relief, TK’s smile slips as he grows hard then harder, curved cock pointing at him against the cushion.

“It’s your fault, really,” Carlos explains, gripping the short hair at TK’s nape next to keep his head tilted up. “You gave me this idea of getting a pet I could pet. And then proceeded to make me search all over for the scaly monster after doing all of the work of setting up his tank. It warrants compensation.”

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Hello folks <3 Have a tame snippet of the NEW chapter of Let Me I just posted. I’ll make a lil cute post for it too but I have a visitor this week so I will be online less, but still lurking to see your beautiful words.

TK sends him a photo of hashbrowns with a ketchup smiley. And a text that says: will be home by 9 latest. Should I bring you dessert?

Carlos knows Rosianna’s, the diner TK and his sponsor go to sometimes after meetings. Possibly, he has spent a bit too much time reading the entire menu and the Google reviews, horrified but wise enough to not freak TK out by telling him not to order anything with chicken there. It’s the kind of controlling he doesn’t want to be, the kind of worrying that leads him to hours spent researching and the kind that shouldn’t spill out all over TK. Doesn’t mean he can stop wanting to know — and maybe preparing something healthy as a snack for TK after said diner. The celery is pre-cut, the organic peanut butter and raisins already out of the cupboard.

I’m good, thanks. Say hi to Coop(er)♥️

It’s likely that TK won’t talk about what he shared with his sponsor. Some nights he does now, dipping in and out of how detailed he goes, some nights he comes home completely happy and hyped on the sugar from AA donuts. Some nights he drapes himself over any part of Carlos he can reach, until he is flipped over and pressed down by his boyfriend’s weight, folding his arms up until Carlos grasps them. 

One thing TK does openly share though, diligently, is how he’s feeling and it’s what matters more than whatever piece of his past it ties to. 

TK has Cooper now to support him with something they’ve both lived through. For now, he hasn’t breached into any other topics as far as Carlos knows; and it’s a mixture of relief of guilt. He meant it. He would want TK to have someone he can share these aspects of their life with, but he finds it equally intimidating to imagine someone he could potentially meet in the fresh produce aisle knowing Carlos doesn’t only use handcuffs at work. He’ll deal with it when it happens, focus on the relief of knowing TK has a safe space too.

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Happy Sunday. I know I can’t post much for AFMA because it’s all spoilers but this snippet. I am working on it though and having a lot of fun in the last stretch. And I know you waited for a while, but know it’s gonna be longer at least than I thought haha.

Thanks for the tags <3

Everyone turns to him; no one says anything.

Little of his usual confidence and stoic strength is left. He looks lost, shoulders drawn in a bit, like he is impossible lonely in between all of them. His eyes are the only thing unchanged, instantly finding TK and holding on.

TK knows what he will ask as soon as his lips drop open. TK, can we talk? Can I tell you that I’m leaving somewhere you can fall apart in private over it?

“Carlos, can you help with the egg whites?” Marjan asks before a word leaves Carlos’ mouth. She waves the hand mixer around a bit. “This thing is broken and Paul’s arm is getting tired.”

It’s a lame excuse everyone can see through. Marjan would never willingly admit to being weaker than other people, Paul would never tire so easily on beating eggwhites either – none of them would, given their powers.

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Thank you for the tags peeps. Life is a tumbling machine in some ways still but have some new Let Me because I’m this close to being done <3

nsfw / light D/S

He’ll release TK from the towel, will stroke his open palm over every inch of TK he calls beautiful, pride like champagne bubbles on his skin when he finds how deep TK has sunken. A rarity in the early days of TK’s renewed sobriety journey, but there is less panic in Carlos now. There’s more trust that they can find pleasure in this even without perfection, that it’s not a necessity to meet their needs to have this be the outcome. They’ll steer all of this together, into ease and out of hardships.

For the next few days, Carlos will keep on dragging a finger around where the kitchen towel sat around TK’s neck, feeling some of the honey TK describes in his subspace transferred upon each touch. For now, Carlos basks in nothing but being the owner of his own joy, the keeper of happy hums, with his cock rewarmed by an eager mouth seeking reassurance.

Carlos runs his fingers through short hair. He’s an animal, heart leashed by the man in his lap.


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Been working on this a bit more, so have some of the next Let Me part :D A very unsmutty snippet but a smutty fic ahead.

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It’s a larger community than Carlos thought it would be, but still small enough that he recognized at least half the names by now. He’s a bit intimidated by some, explicit photos, or 24/7 relationships or dynamics he can’t make his mind up about. He is also intrigued. There’s a lesbian couple that keep on commenting on each other’s post, teasing the other and correcting things, that he loves to follow. There is a shibari expert posting free tutorials, and a therapist that gives relationship advice in and out of scenes. He always laughs when he stumbles over posts from this one elderly man who keeps on telling the same story of the 70s – if it fits the other’s posts or not.

Sipping his now lukewarm camomille, Carlos checks on the answers to the new post and is almost disappointed to not find a specific name among them.

‘Dom.enique’ has texted him privately instead. That’s a first.

Carlos sets down his cup, only finds he is rubbing his palm down the soft shirt he put on post-workout shower when it’s already done. abandoning the kitchen, he sits at the end of the lounger. He only checks back on his phone when he’s put his glasses on, when he’s sat taller, than reprimanded himself and slouched a little.


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Part Nine of the Let Me verse. A series exploring the canon relationship of Carlos and TK, while adding a slowly devoloping Dom/sub dynamic to it.

Summary:

After Sadie, both TK and Carlos struggle to find their way back to themselves and the ease of all aspects of their relationship.

“The one thing Carlos has always longed for most, has bedded the fulfillment of his dominant desires on, is making TK sink into the sweetness of total surrender — and it’s the precise reason why he has to make this next scene memorable. Because it will be the last.”

A glance at  his sponsor’s smile helps push him forward. “It seemed so all encompassing—”

TK lets go of the chair to grip his right wrist with his left hand,“ —but he was right. All of us are allowed a reprieve. It’s hard to accept sometimes, harder to pull off other times when your head gets too loud. I can’t get there alone, but I don’t have to. I’m lucky enough to have people I can ask to help me make space for other things, luckier even to have my boyfriend understand parts of it better now. To make space for a true reprieve can mean anything. Like uhm—”

Like asking my boyfriend to put me in cuffs and bend me over his knee to spank me. To take ownership of my mind and body for a while and hold me after because all sides of me are safe. Like stripping me to the bone and being told how to be good, and how to achieve it.

Like a reward and punishment and the sweetness of honey all wrapped into one.

Happy Sunday. Thanks for tagging me in all your sweet snippets. Honestly hope to be a bit more active next week here :)

I posted my new Let Me part. The only un-smutty one haha <3 Will make a post about it too.

CW: discussions of Sadie scene/forced drugging mention

TK’s eyes find the door of their bedroom. There’s a gap in it. It’s not quite closed. Down below there is a carpet. He’s knelt on it so many times, but right now it reminds him of the cotton his brain and limbs felt wrapped up in even as his knees hit the floor hard enough to be bruised blue and green for a week. Pain hadn’t rung through his body, understanding dropped right with him when the gravity of the Earth forced the rest of his body down. 

He doesn’t remember every single detail, but he remembers thinking he was finally able to take a proper breath in after holding it for so long. There you are. This is what life could be. This is what it’s like to be weightless. Remember?

TK startles when something grips his chin. Carlos. 

“Does anything feel tight?” he asks, the furrow between his eyes deep.

“No. I’m good,” TK replies. He shouldn’t look toward the bedroom again. He sleeps there every night, it’s not supposed to haunt him. This is their home. This is a time where he can find another way to be free. He’s allowed a reprieve.

Carlos tilts his head, eyes roaming TK from his head to the knees folded on the couch cushion.


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I’ve been meaning to thank everyone who gave my teenage Jonah fic a shot and post a last lil snippet of the now fully posted fic: Spit of you.

thanks for the tags <3

Carlos’ thoughts come to a halt at the edge of TK’s lips. They press to the clasp of his necklace, before TK’s nose follows the dip of his spine up to his hair.

“I can hear you thinking, husband,” TK mumbles.

Carlos’ twists his neck, only managing to see the moon painted on the ceiling. He should tell TK to go back to sleep, knowing that TK at least dozed off because otherwise he would have twitched and twisted and turned the past hour or so. But the idea of staying with these thoughts the entire night is too lonely to bear.

“Do you want a snack?”

It’s how they find themselves in fuzzy bath robes that Owen had given them last year, sneaking down the stairs that Carlos pats his past self on the back for stabilizing. It’s halfway down them, past the wall of endless photos of everyone they consider family, that a noise makes Carlos stop. TK curses when he stumbles into him.

Half his life in law enforcement has given Carlos a sixth sense of awareness — but he relaxes when the sounds translate into familiarity. Short Stack greets them at the bottom of the stairs, only her green eyes visible in the dark until her mouth opens to sharp teeth and the near inaudible meow that is part of her creature-dom. TK scratches behind her papery ears before she leads them to the kitchen to where the next noise crashes into the nightly silence. To where her loyalty lies.

Jonah is illuminated by the refrigerator light, half his hair falling out of a bun on top of his head, he’s wearing a faded Phoebe Bridgers shirt and long cartoon boxer shorts. When TK flips on the kitchen light, Jonah flinches and turns to them, quickly bringing the bottle of orange juice from his mouth. Wiping his mouth with the back of his wrist, he says, “Uhm…I’ll pick up a new bottle tomorrow.”

The digital clock on the oven reads 2:39 and TK looks at him with a fondness that he knows must match his own.

“I’ll make sandwiches,” Carlos decides. 


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Inspiration Saturday

I loved seeing your moodboards last week, so here is so inspire you and me to keep on writing this fic <3


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Happy Wednesday <3 Started job related things this week but I miss my writing and fan-y space. hope to balance it all soon :) Anyway have something from the unsmutty Let Me part.

thanks for the tags!

“I kind of…derailed.”

Cooper pulls a face and points a finger at him. “You spoke from the heart.”

“I guess.”

Sometimes TK wonders whether it would be okay to ask Cooper advice on the exact form of reprieve he likes, too. But not only would he not want to make Cooper uncomfortable, it’s strange how it’s less the horror of himself when it used to be tied to shame, but it’s the thought of revealing something so private about Carlos that TK can’t bring himself to do. 

It would be good to have insight though about how he has revisited the fear of losing himself in the space of sweetness conflating with the escape of a high. It’s not the same, he was wrong about that…but what if it will make him think that way again? What if he is using Carlos? 

It’s not a question he can ask a room full of strangers. It’s not even something he can ask his sponsor. But he wishes it were as simple as a new mobile game. Maybe he could talk about that in metaphors? Maybe about…yoga?

“Hey,” Cooper says, grasping his shoulder once again. He’s tactile like that and any other day TK wouldn’t mind. “Don’t make me call Carlos up and tell him to shower you in praise until you allow yourself to feel proud. Because I will.”

Stepping outside, the Texan sun beats down on him, burning in tandem with his face when TK replies, “Oh, don’t worry. Carlos is way ahead of you.”

“I kind of…derailed.”

Cooper pulls a face and points a finger at him. “You spoke from the heart.”

“I guess.”

Sometimes TK wonders whether it would be okay to ask Cooper advice on the exact form of reprieve he likes, too. But not only would he not want to make Cooper uncomfortable, it’s strange how it’s less the horror of himself when it used to be tied to shame, but it’s the thought of revealing something so private about Carlos that TK can’t bring himself to do. 

It would be good to have insight though about how he has revisited the fear of losing himself in the space of sweetness conflating with the escape of a high. It’s not the same, he was wrong about that…but what if it will make him think that way again? What if he is using Carlos? 

It’s not a question he can ask a room full of strangers. It’s not even something he can ask his sponsor. But he wishes it were as simple as a new mobile game. Maybe he could talk about that in metaphors? Maybe about…yoga?

“Hey,” Cooper says, grasping his shoulder once again. He’s tactile like that and any other day TK wouldn’t mind. “Don’t make me call Carlos up and tell him to shower you in praise until you allow yourself to feel proud. Because I will.”

Stepping outside, the Texan sun beats down on him, burning in tandem with his face when TK replies, “Oh, don’t worry. Carlos is way ahead of you.”

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How Deep Is Your Love?

@tarlos-smut-week. Day 7: Dom / Sub ⛓️ fic collaboration by @sassy-coweyes and @heartstringsduet

Summary:
It is an open invitation, and the way Carlos has TK positioned, there can be no doubt about what’s on offer. They’ve caught a few eyes already, but Carlos would like to decline at least one or two suitors before he makes his ‘decision’. Which means he needs to make sure they’re catching attention.

TK and Carlos live out a mutual fantasy - with a little help.

Includes @whatsintheboxmh art collaboration for this fic 👀‼️Show some love! 🍑

Chapter 1 / 3
word count | 3.5 k / 17.8k words

When Carlos stopped him, arm on his elbow, and asked what TK needed, if he needed to be driven to a meeting, TK had snapped: “What I need is to be fucked!” 

He hadn’t specified by whom, which Carlos found amusing at first, but then it had led him to this idea that felt ready to blossom now with the years of trust they had built up. Suddenly Carlos knew what TK’s reward would be - that is, if TK wanted it too.

“Oh, so anyone will do?”

A lil snippet from the second part of the Teenage Jonah fic “Spit of you” that will be out soon.

Thank you for the tags @carlos-in-glasses @ladyknight1512

Carlos strokes a thumb over the edge of TK’s jaw. “Can’t have been worse than what I said.”

TK rolls his eyes.

“What?”

“Are you kidding?” TK murmurs. “We both know that you’re the only one in this family that has a chance of finding the right words when one of us spirals.”

There are plenty of examples Carlos could use to contradict it, all the little and big fights erupting from poor chosen words.

The bottom dropped open when he realized no amount of research and no words or hugs would help TK as well as a sponsor could. The flood coming in when he realized no amount of research and no words or hugs would help Jonah navigate loss and trauma as well as a professional therapist could and how even that wouldn’t be a healing potion.

“I told him about my dad,” Carlos confesses, even as the lump returns. It’s a tiny bit smaller this time.

“You did?” TK asks softly, hand coming up to grip Carlos’ wrist, his own life line thrumming between bones. “What exactly?”

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