#i have sequel ideas but i'm not trying to do this for a following

[satellitevenusnine]

The Leaders

18+ explicit, Paya x Tauro, 8k+ words. Romance/Fluff. All the romance. Cozy. My kink is healthy communication. Not hurt/comfort, more like emotional release/physical release. Spoilers for the "Finding the Fifth Sage" questline. Proportionally speaking, 60% of this fic is sex scene. I'm waiting on an AO3 invite but the fic will live here for now. Apologies for any typos, this is my first piece of writing in 8 years. Not looking for critique or writing advice, but if you like it, feel free to send some love my way. I just saw the lack of content and decided to fill the gap, so to speak.

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When Tauro returned to Kakariko village, he was grinning from ear to ear.

Koko and Cottla ran to greet him at the southwest gate shouting their excitement into the light of the evening sun. Koko offered him one of her ring garlands and he swung her up onto his shoulder so she could put it around his neck. Cottla insisted that Tauro try a recipe she was working on. Grabbing his hand, Cottla pulled the unresisting researcher toward a bubbling cooking pot.

Paya heard the clamor from her loft window. She descended into the main room of the village hall and leaned out the window facing the High Spirits produce store. Tauro would have been hard to miss in most contexts, but her eyes immediately found the curly streak of white in a tumble of dark hair. His head was thrown back laughing and she couldn’t help but smile herself. She noticed the container of scrolls strapped to his back and felt excitement pull her to her toward the door. She slipped on her geta and hurried to meet the welcoming party.

“Lady Paya!” Cottla called out. “Come try my Mommy’s pumpkin recipe!”

Paya bowed to the child. “Thank you, Cottla. I would love to.”

Tauro playfully smacked his lips together and patted his belly. “Hey there, Paya! It’s so yummy, I’d eat up the whole pot if you let me!”

Cottla began to give a small lecture about the importance of sharing, Tauro and Koko on his shoulder nodding along gravely. Paya smiled to herself as she helped herself to a spoonful of nutty, spicy, meat-stuffed pumpkin. She savored the warmth as the flavors suddenly reminded her that she had gone too long without eating that day, lost in her ledgers of village supplies. Hunger to the point of nausea rose up and she had to lean a little against the matsu pine tree next to the pot. Lecture concluded, Cottla asked Paya what she thought of the food.

“You were absolutely right about sharing what we have in times of struggle, but I could eat up every last bit myself!” Paya said. She sighed a little. “Have you ever gotten so focused on something that you almost forget you have a body?”

Cottla frowned and shook her head “no,” but Koko was thoughtful for a moment and said, “Sometimes when I’m making my ring garlands, I want to only be thinking about nice things so the people who buy them can feel good as long as they have the garlands. It feels like that’s the only thing that exists, praying and braiding. Then it feels funny when my hands start to ache or something and it’s like I wasn’t even Koko for a while.”

Paya nodded at the older girl. “That’s exactly it.”

Tauro asked Koko, “Can I give you a hug?” and she threw her arms around his neck. He squeezed her tightly, swung her around once and set her giggling on her feet. “I’m glad you are Koko,” he told her. She laughed, waved, and ran back to her garland stand, but Cottla was still frowning at Paya.

“How are you sposed to take care of the village if you forget you have a body?” Cottla asked indignantly, shaking her ladle at the chief.

Paya bowed her head and folded her hands as if to beg forgiveness. “If I knew what delicious food was waiting for me, it would be much harder to forget,” she insisted.

Cottla lowered her ladle, squinting in suspicion. “You only had one bite! You better take a whole pumpkin and eat it all up!” She insisted right back.

Paya smiled in her gentle way. “Thank you, I will. And I will try to remember that you are counting on me to eat well, little Cottla.”

The little girl nodded decisively. She turned her ladle on Tauro now. “You take one, too. I gotta take the rest to Daddy now.”

Tauro grinned and said thanks, hoisting the box of scrolls off his back and setting his ring garland on top of it before scooping a stuffed pumpkin out of the steamer in the pot. He noticed Paya’s focus gravitate toward the box. “I’m surprised you managed to go this long without asking me about my findings! Link helped us land one of the biggest hauls in MILLENIA of Zonai research,” he told her now that they were alone.

Paya’s eyes lit up and she opened her mouth to ask a question when her belly growled as loud as a lynel. Hand over her stomach, she sighed a big sigh. “Cottla is right. I - I’m famished,” Paya replied. “As my honored guest, it is indelicate of me to eat without you starting the meal yourself. As desirous as I am to hear your news, may we please eat together?”

Something seemed to give Tauro pause for a second. His face was hard to read in a way that had nothing to do with his eyes being hidden under curls. Then his usual cheerful smile split the solemn expression and he tucked into his stuffed pumpkin without wasting another word.

Paya bowed her head and gave thanks, then did her best to match Tauro’s leisurely pace instead of tearing into her dish the way her stomach demanded. They ate in companionable silence and left the chatter to the cuccoos until the last morsel made it to Paya’s mouth.

“May I ask you something, Chief Paya?” Tauro inquired.

Paya nodded, dabbing her mouth delicately.

“Did you used to forget meals before the Ring Ruins fell?”

She glanced up at him in mild surprise. He had never really asked her such a personal question before.

She nodded slowly. “For a while after my mother passed away.”

Tauro made a noise of sympathy. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

Paya looked down at her hands in her lap for a long, quiet moment. “She would have been chief before me if she had lived ’til Grandmother left,” she heard herself say. “I had to start preparations to take her place under Grandmother’s tutelage immediately after…” She was suddenly conscious of having forgotten to put on her chieftain hat in her hurry to greet Tauro and the children. She felt exposed without it now.

Paya felt a tear slip down her cheek and brushed it away reflexively. She had wished for her mother intensely while the stone ruins rained down on the village and the castle rose into the sky, and it had passed out of her awareness until now. A wave of grief hit her, recent losses calling to old ones amid the uncertainty of the future. She was trying so hard to be what the village needed both now and if the Demon King should return to his full power. She desperately fought back a sob.

Tauro was suddenly on his knees in front of her, blurry from the tears she couldn’t hold back anymore. “You don’t have to hide this from anyone, least of all from me,” he murmured. But Paya had both hands pressed tightly to her mouth and she found that she couldn’t look at him.

“Can I give you a hug?” Tauro asked. Paya felt certain that she would drown him if she let loose, but the need for release was greater and she flung her arms open to his embrace. How long had it been since she was held? Not since she was entrusted with the care of the village, at the very least. Not for many Blood Moons. She poured her tears upon his chest and it felt like she became a wild thing howling. Tauro subtly waved away onlookers concerned for their chief and kept her wrapped firmly in his arms no matter how roughly her wailing wracked her body. Her cries echoed off the cliffsides and it sounded like the mountains cried with her in many voices. When she began to tire out he drew her in closer, rocking slightly, until she relaxed in one big sigh. A breeze clacked the wooden emi hanging above them.

“Thank you,” Paya croaked, face still pressed against his body. Tauro just hummed an acknowledgement and the sound of it vibrated through her skull. She sat listening to the great whoosh of his heartbeat for a minute, relaxing further. When she finally raised her head, she found herself looking for his eyes.

“May I…?” Paya started to ask. “May I pull your hair away from your face? I just realized I have never actually seen your eyes.”

Tauro smiled gently. “Of course.”

What little distance remained between them was closed with great tenderness as Paya tucked long locks behind his ears. She wasn’t fully prepared for the sensation of falling into his gaze once she could finally meet it. The warmth and concern present, the patience and the steadiness disarmed her.

“Oh!” She said, startled. “Oh. This is quite intimate.”

Tauro’s smile grew into a grin, hiding his eyes once again in deep creases. “Yeah.” He replied. One large hand traced slow circles on her back. “Are you ok?” He asked.

She nodded “yes”, unable to look away from his face.

The sound of someone clearing their throat nearby startled her back into the wider world.

“Lady Paya,” Dorian greeted her. “Would you like to rest now that you’ve had your evening meal?”

Paya drew away from Tauro reluctantly. He, in turn, left his hand to linger on her back, a fortifying presence.

“You’ve got a little pumpkin in your beard, friend,” Tauro pointed out to Dorian. The guardsman hurriedly brushed the food from his face as Paya collected herself.

“Please thank Cottla again for her fine cooking and her care for her Chief,” Paya told Dorian, a noticeable rasp in her voice now. “Both your daughters do so much for the village. I can see the future of the Sheikah is bright because of them.” She bowed deeply to her bodyguard.

Dorian’s attitude softened somewhat. “Thank you, Lady Paya. I give thanks for them myself every day.” Straightening his posture, he asked, “Would you like to be escorted to your chambers?”

“Yes, I would,” Paya smiled, “but I wonder if I would be better served if you took the night off to rest and spend time with your family. They reminded me once again that without our health, the village cannot go on. We each must take care of our bodies and our hearts. Mr. Tauro has news of the latest developments in Master Link’s journey that he has yet to share with me and it may be best to relay that information in private. Cado and Olkin have guard duty in front of the village hall tonight so I will be well protected.”

“Tauro, would you be willing to accompany me to my chambers?” She asked.

Tauro beamed, bowed, and said, “Absolutely, my Lady!”

Dorian looked taken aback but bowed as well. “Our Lady knows best. I will enjoy time with my girls and return to my post refreshed in the morning.”

Paya felt the absence of the heat of Tauro’s hand when he took it from her back. The sound of Dorian’s footsteps receded.

She averted her gaze from the play of his muscles as Tauro shouldered the crate of scrolls again and clasped her hands in front of her heart. Grandmothers, see him through my Eye. Is he for the Sheikah tribe or for tonight?

Tauro’s hand lightly grasped her shoulder to let her know he was ready. Paya looked up at him and felt a pricking between her eyes that felt like the day her tattoo was inked. A spreading heat and intense yearning for him soaked into her bones. Her lips parted and she began the meditative breath. If you do this it will be Ceremony. Voiced yet voiceless.

She covered his hand with one of hers and spoke it. “If we join, it will be Ceremony. As Chief of the village, I do not do this casually. Knowing this, would you be willing to accompany me to my bedchambers?”

His lips parted too. With so much of his body bare, when he flushed it was very visible. “Yes, my Lady.”

Fireflies began to glow in the village round.

***

“I would still enjoy hearing what you discovered in Faron,” Paya said as she and Tauro climbed the loft stairs together.

“In my wildest dreams, I could never have imagined we’d find depictions of the workings of these ancient conductors, let alone EXTANT ritual garb made by Zonai for HYLIANS to wear!” He gushed without hesitation

“I almost lost my sea legs when me and Calip found Link WEARING the artifacts under a site struck by lightning that had been directed by Zonai conductors!”

Paya giggled and directed him to set the box of scrolls on her work table. “‘Lost your sea legs?’ Like lost your balance from shock?”

“Exactly right! The conductors were able to channel the energy away from the giant storm above Faron Woods, possibly due to the electricity attraction of metals and the energy absorbing properties of Zonaite!”

Paya shook her head in disbelief. “That kind of power… Truly a fascinating culture, but that kind of capability gives me pause.”

“Oh, 100%” Tauro said with vigor. “But now that WE can access these relics, it’s important that everyone know as much as we can about them. Their effect on the world, why they were put there, who they affected, the material cost to make them!”

Paya smiled. “I agree. Let no one person be considered the master of such relics.”

“Uh-huh. I like that.” Tauro looked around the room, scratching his head.

“Paya, may I make myself more comfortable?”

“Of course, Tauro. Do you need to ask?”

“Well, that means taking off the clothes I wear to fit in better with the Sheikah and sitting on your bed because my head damn near hits the rafters.”

Paya blushed from her seat next to her work table. “How much of your clothing do you wear to preserve my sense of modesty?” She asked.

“Basically, all of it.”

“Oh.”

Silence.

“Tauro, please make yourself comfortable.”

He smiled but it was one she had never seen before. Teasing. He wore boldness better than any garment.

He uncovered his head and shook out his hair. Paya became very aware of her body as the yearning pull started up again. He was right, his head nearly touched the beams of her ceiling. He tilted his chin, leaning contrapposto, and slid his vest off his shoulders, followed by a shirt he had mostly deconstructed. He untied his arm band, the turn of his head accentuating the tendons in his neck. He ran his hands languidly across his chest, grinning. “Still doing ok over there?”

“Oh, yes,” Paya breathed. Her expression shifted from entranced to curious. “How can you share yourself with the whole world like that?”

“I’ve got nothing to hide and everything to feel.”

Paya’s view drifted inward as she considered what Tauro had said. “That sounds wonderful,” she murmured. “You are truly blessed, Tauro.”

It was his turn to look introspective, stroking his chin and playing with the tie in his beard. “I hadn’t really thought of it that way. Do you want to hide, Paya?”

She looked into his face again. “Not right now. Not from you.”

He put his hand over his heart. “I am truly blessed.”

“Are you as… comfortable as you want to be, Tauro?”

“I’ve got more to show you, Paya.”

“Please, make yourself at home here.”

Another heartwarming grin. Off came his tool belt, his gloves, his research notebook in it’s net pouch, his purely decorative jacket around his waist. He licked his lips and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his shorts. Paya’s breathing sounded loud in her own ears. Pushing his hips forward slightly, Tauro eased his last article of clothing off his body slowly and gracefully, relishing the sensation of his skin being exposed. He was left in only his Lurelin beads and magnifying lens pendant. He stretched his arms a little and brushed his hair back to make eye contact with Paya. Her mouth was open slightly and the heat in her eyes was intense. Even when he was at half-mast, to borrow a Lurelin phrase, he was the picture of desire.

“I think I see what you mean now,” she said with some awe in her voice. “If I were to visit you in Lurelin, should I wear something like… that?”

The beads draped around Tauro’s hips actually rattled when his cock jumped at the thought. Paya’s breath drew in sharply. “I think that is something you and I can definitely try just for us,” he said in a measured tone, “but most folks in Lurelin these days wear some cloth. They just don’t mind that I like sticking to the old ways.”

Paya let out a scandalized giggle, eyes wide. “I’m glad I asked first.”

Tauro sat down on her bed. “Are you comfortable, Lady Paya?” He leaned back onto his elbows, abs flexing as his torso curled along the length of her bed.

“I, um. I might need some assistance. My hands are a little unsteady right now.” She admitted.

He sat up again and held his arms out to her. She got up out of her seat and crossed the room to him. He was looking up at her face for the first time, but not by much. His hands slid across the sash at her waist and up her back as he drew her between his bare legs. The heavy wool of her garments was velvety against his inner thighs. He stroked her back as she reached for his face. She cupped his jaw with both hands, stroking her thumbs across the stubble on his cheeks. Half-lidded, her dark eyes looked like endless pools he could drown in. She leaned in for a gentle kiss.

A different kind of hunger began to make demands of her body. She moaned into Tauro’s mouth and he gasped, fingers flexing along her spine. The kiss deepened. Her hands were in his hair, tracing the curve of his collar bone, clasping the back of his neck. He grasped at her hips, slid his palms up her rib cage, dragged fingers down her shoulder blades. “Ohhhhh,” Paya moaned again, arching into him.

Tauro pulled away first. “What assistance do you need, my Lady?” He asked.

Her eyes cleared a little of desire. “Oh!” She said, a little breathlessly. “Um, something just occurred to me. Before you help me, um, get comfortable, you should know I may come away from this bed bearing new life. It is our custom to make vows before Hylia should we become family in that way. The bond is forever, in this lifetime and maybe the next.”

Tauro stroked her back again. “The bright future of the Sheikah tribe?” He smiled. She met his smile with one of her own. He put one of her hands over his heart and put one of his hands over hers. “Do I get to be your official consort or something?” Paya’s shy delight practically set her face aglow.

“You get a seat by my side always in all matters. Any children I bear will have the right to wear the Eye tattoo as proof of their unbroken Sheikah lineage.”

“That’s what that means?!”

Paya nodded “yes.”

“Wow. You really want me to be a part of that?”

She nodded again.

He really considered her words, but his hand never left hers, still touching his heart. He interlaced his fingers with hers. Taking in a deep breath and locking eyes with her, he said, “I would be truly blessed.”

Paya’s eyes filled but they were happy tears this time. She leaned in for another kiss and Tauro brought a hand up to her face, touching her tattoo reverently before their lips met again. She began to feel the press of his arousal against her body and her breath escaped her in a long exhale. Tauro moaned a little and let his hands roam down to her lower back and beyond. He used his solid grip on her ass to press her hips against his. “OhhHHHH!” from Paya, than a gasp. Tauro made a noise deep in his throat as their kissing gained a fiercer edge.

“Tauro,” she whispered, “Please…”

He stopped to let her catch her breath. “‘Please’ what, Paya?”

She had to find her words again. “I do not think I can manage knots right now. Will you undo my ties for me?”

He took her hands, kissed her palms, his sure fingers making quick work of the ties at her wrists and forearms. “Easier than untangling fishing line,” he chuckled.

Smiling down at him, Paya reached up to her hair to undo her top knot. Her loose sleeves revealed bare arms and Tauro gulped, realizing that this was the genuinely the most he’d seen of her body so far. She put her hair sticks and vermillion ribbons down on the stand next to her bed as Tauro rubbed her hips. She shook her head now that her hair was free and Tauro saw that in the lamp light, the strands shimmered like silver but had an aura of gold. His breath caught in his chest.

“The knot in my obi tie is tucked into my back,” she told him.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her again. “How do you tie it like that?” He whispered against her lips.

“I tie it in front and twist it round to the back,” she laughed. “But I like this way of discovering.”

“Mmm.” Tauro agreed between kisses, “Me too.”

Another quick knot to undo and her obi was on the floor, her great surcoat hanging freely around her body. She pulled it off and Tauro was shocked and delighted to see she was wearing a halter top underneath. When he ran his hands up her back again, they both thrilled at the touch of skin on skin. She leaned into his touch, letting her head drop back while she steadied herself with a grip on his shoulders. Groaning from the pressure of her pelvis against his bare groin, Tauro laid kisses along her collarbone while his hands confidently explored her newly exposed territory. His breath hissed through his teeth when he realized her neck was still entirely covered.

“There are two clasps at the back,” Paya whispered.

In a flash, he had them open. She released his shoulders to pull her top over her head and then it joined her obi and coat on the floor. Unconsciously, Paya clasped her hands over her heart, covering her bare breasts with her arms. Tauro’s breathing was unsteady and his mouth hung open slightly. She could feel the heat and humidity from his breath on her chest. He looked only at her face as she reached a hand to run her fingers through his hair and closed his eyes when she began to lightly scratch his scalp.

“The ties at my waist are the last,” she said.

Tauro hugged her tightly and pressed his face against her throat. Both Paya’s hands were in his hair now and the skin on the back of his neck tingled as her nails traced circles round and round. He grazed teeth against the hollow between her throat and shoulder and she cried out. Massaging her glutes, he kissed and sucked and worked her neck. Her hips began to move against his and he grunted. When she started scratching circles on his shoulders and upper back, Tauro cried out too, muffled against her neck. Running his own fingers through her hair, he brought Paya’s mouth to his and drank of her desire.

A cool breeze came through the loft’s open window and raised gooseflesh on Paya’s fevered skin. Tauro’s hands burned where he touched her.

He drew away first, holding eye contact as he released the ties from the curves of her hips and the thin cotton underskirt fell away.

“Are you comfortable now, my Lady?”

Paya shivered slightly from excitement. Her blush was everywhere. Tauro could feel the warmth and damp from between her legs against his body. “My need for you is uncomfortable. I ache with it,” she said. Tauro felt his own body tighten in response and he tipped his head back. He sucked his breath in through his teeth. “Ah.. yes. Right there with you.” Drawing her into his arms again, he just held her skin to skin for the first time. “I don’t know that I fully appreciated how sensitized you would be with all that cloth and tradition between you and the world.” He told her. Something in her belly unclenched and she let out a breath.

“Oh! Does joining not feel like that to everyone?”

Tauro pulled back slightly to meet her eyes, eyebrows raised. “Beloved, nothing we’ve done so far has felt like joining with anyone I’ve ever been with.”

“I want us to be comfortable together.” He said. “It doesn’t have to be all about tension to get release.”

Her eyelids fluttered a bit as she took that in. “Can you show me?” Paya asked.

Tauro licked his lips and began making slow circles with his hand on her upper back. “Focus on breathing deeply for a bit.” He intoned, leaning in to brush a kiss below her ear.

She could do that. She felt the rhythm of his breathing slow down and began to match it. Tauro massaged between her shoulder blades and planted kisses along her neck while she took in as much breath as she could and released it as slowly as possible. A practiced meditative breath. When she inhaled, he put a hand on her rising breastbone and just rested there, the other hand moving to the curve of her back. A long sigh out and he laid his lips to linger on the junction of her neck and shoulder. He cupped one of her breasts which prompted her next breath in and she pressed into his hand. “Ahhhhhhhhh” Paya sighed.

“Do you feel more comfortable now, Beloved?” Tauro asked, voice buzzing against her throat.

“Oh, yes,” she breathed. The passion she rode began to feel more like a great current than a tempest

“Do you want me to start opening you up?” He asked.

“OH! Oh, yes.”

“Let’s lay you down, Beloved.”

“Mmmmmmmm. Yes.”

Tauro simply splayed both hands across her back and lay down, taking her with him. Stretched out on top of him, Paya took his face in her hands and kissed him deeply, slowly, passing the leading rhythm back and forth between them. Tauro rolled them over so that Paya was on her back and he straddled her hips. More kisses, more sighs, more discovering.

“Will you spread your legs for me, Beloved?” He asked.

She bit her swollen lower lip as he raised himself onto knees and elbows. Running her hands down her body, she squeezed her breasts, traced the curves of her belly, and began to touch her lowest lips as she spread her thighs for him.

“OH!” Tauro gasped and wasted no time covering her face, neck, and chest with kisses. She sighed and kept her breathing steady, but the weight of his body pressed against her vulva made her play with her pussy more urgently.

He cupped and caressed her breasts, sucking a nipple deeply into his mouth, jaw open wide, and laving the underside of her breast with his tongue. “Yessssssss,” she breathed, arching up into him, raining kisses on the top of his head, her free hand tangled in the waves of his hair. He squeezed and massaged, worshipping alternately with hand and mouth, briefly pausing to listen to her racing heart.

Her slit was so slick now, she could feel her nectar dripping like honey over the crack of her ass and soaking into the futon. There was a patch on Tauro’s belly where he pressed his body against her. When he rose up, a string of it followed him.

“Paya, my Lady. Beloved,” he moaned “May I taste you between your legs?”

She whimpered. “Yes!”

He lay his cheek along her belly and brought her wet hand to his mouth. He kissed and licked her fingers, sucked them greedily one by one making little sounds of appreciation, licked the creases between her fingers with the flat and the point of his tongue. Her hips moved beneath him and she sighed. He nuzzled her stomach tenderly, being mindful of his stubbly cheeks. He gripped the prominences of her pelvis and gave kisses like blessings across her womb. Paya intertwined her fingers with his as he kissed the top of her mound. She squeezed his hands and tried to remember her deep breathing as she felt warmth, then cool against her slit as Tauro exhaled, then inhaled, then sighed hot breath against her most intimate of parts.

He kissed her clitoris when he felt her begin an inhalation. Immediately, her legs spread wider, pushing her pussy against his face. He squeezed her hands back and put his whole mouth on her flesh, sucking while his tongue slowly, deliberately writhed and licked between her lips.

“Ahhh!” She cried out, thrusting into him. Her back arched up off the bed as she tried to breathe in slowly through her nose. “ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhh,” she sighed out, grinding gently, head tossed to one side.

Tauro made noises of satisfaction between her thighs and her rhythm stuttered. He hummed with her lips in his mouth and rimmed her slit with his tongue. She pressed into him and fell back on the bed. She let go of his hands to massage her breasts and he grabbed a pillow to put under her buttocks. Lapping the length of her with the flat of his tongue, he lifted up her hips and wrapped his strong arms around her thighs, pulling them open further and angling her pussy for a deep drink. Her well had many waters for him. He dipped into her with thrusting tongue and Paya’s voice dropped a whole octave. “UHHhhhh,” she groaned. She scraped her nails across her nipples and reached for Tauro’s head between her legs. He spread her lips wider with rubbing fingers, aiming to relax the muscles of her pelvic floor. He nursed her clit and swirled his tongue inside of her.

She felt like she was melting into his mouth. Her eyes closed and her hips rippled more smoothly against his face, knees dropping toward the futon as she unfurled to him. She made a tender fist in his hair.

“Oh!” Paya sighed, rubbing the space between her breasts with the other hand.

The bed moved slightly from Tauro pushing his own hips into the futon. Her strokes against his tongue started to grip him and he voiced his hunger for her climax. Fingers, lips, suction, pressure, depth. He came up for air with a ragged breath and then sank back into her. With his tongue as deep inside her as it would go, he curled it up toward her pubic bone, moving the point back and forth. Her thighs began to shake. Her toes pointed into his ribs, then flexed. She took as much breath as she could into her diaphragm and felt her Hara, her solar plexus, open up. Then Paya let herself feel it all. His joyful presence after a time of fear and tragedy. The ease with which formality dropped away as they worked together. His enthusiasm and his ability to sit in observation the way she sat in meditation. The way in which he hid nothing and sensed everything.

She rained her sacred waters on him and he did his best to drink them down. His hands roamed her body, touching her everywhere. Her thighs were pressed against his ears. Her cries sounded almost musical, going up and down scales. Tauro heard them as if swimming through the solid conductor of her flesh. He felt like he was being swallowed. Her walls pulsing against his lips and tongue, her hips rolling his head, her hand drawing him in. The smell and taste of sea water. His eyes rolled up. Every sense was filled with her release. Paya moved against him like ocean waves, like something bigger than the bounds of the earth. Thunder clapped overhead. With one hand clutched against her heart, she let go and let the rhythm ride her. It tumbled them both.

When Tauro came up for air again, he was a little wobbly. His lips were puffy. Veins pulsed in his neck. His beard and some of his curls were dripping. His entire face and torso from the nose down were shiny from her gushing waters. Lifting himself up onto his elbow, he burped.

Paya felt like the whole expansive world was her body. She was luxuriating in it when she heard Tauro’s burp and opened her eyes to see a very soggy man.

“Are you well, Tauro?” Her voice sounded resonant like a bell.

A toothy grin appeared. “Beloved, I’m well.”

“Will there be more joining tonight?”

“Mm. The intention is there. Give me a moment, please.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean —“

He nuzzled his face against her knee with as much energy as he could muster and stroked the top of her thigh. “I know. If not now, after a nap. I want you too.”

Her smile was loving. She reached out her arms for him. He belly-crawled up on knees and elbows til her face was within kissing distance. Their torsos were slippery from her fluids and the promise of rain in the air.

Tauro flung his hair back and leaned over her to lace his fingers behind the base of her skull. His eyes explored Paya’s face. He kissed her Eye tattoo and pressed his forehead there, taking a deep breath and exhaling through his nostrils. She met his unblinking gaze and inhaled his breath deep into her Hara.

“Do you know that tradition?” He asked her.

“I’ve not heard of nor experienced it before, but I did what felt right.”

He stroked her hair. “Bright future.”

“Family,” she replied.

“It’s not just for lovers,” he said. “If you share breath, you share life.”

She smiled, reached for the edge of the futon quilt they lay atop of and wrapped it over both of them.

“Do you want to tell me more about your practices, Tauro?”

He sighed happily and flopped to one side, letting his hand play with the curves of Paya’s ribs, waist, hip.

“Where I come from, grandparents and grandbabies do it, parents and children, people you’ve grown up with or survived great challenges with. It’s feeding each other, and it’s like a language that belongs to plants and creatures, minerals and the weather. It all breathes.”

Paya nodded in appreciation. “I feel connected with all things when I meditate, through my breath, because of what you describe.”

“If there’s a name for my practice, I don’t know it. It’s older than names.”

“Is the kiss on the forehead part of it?” She asked

“I wanted to honor where the life in you comes from. It feels meaningful that you have a marker there, where you and I make a connection, too. Some relationships may add kisses, but they won’t mean what ours will.”

Her eyes shone. “We are truly blessed, Tauro”

He drew closer. “I feel it, Paya.”

Closer still. “Beloved Paya, I’m ready if you are.”

She glanced down.

“Well, not ready ready.”

“Tauro, I would enjoy reciprocating. Do you want me to love your body with my mouth?”

A stirring near her hip.

“Oh Beloved…” with some heat.

He drew her mouth to his.

She was mindful of her pressure on his swollen lips. She could taste her own salt on him and his skin had half-dried a little tacky. Some of the urgency had bled off with her release.

Slow, tender kisses expressed her care for him. Paya asked Tauro to lay back and some of the thick quilt fell away. She reached for a basket under the stand next to her bed and got out a jar of oil. She poured a little in her hands and straddled Tauro’s belly. Spreading the oil across her palms, she put her hands on his chest and leaned down to kiss him some more. He slid his hands up to her hips and brushed her skin with his thumbs. Paya sat up and leaned her body weight into the muscles of his chest.

“Ahhhhh,” he sighed. He did his best to keep up with stretches while doing field work, but it was a demanding occupation.

She described big, broad circles in the tissue of his pecs with fists and palms, pressed her fingers between each rib and worked the muscles there. She ran her thumbs in the space between his ribcage and diaphragm while he inhaled deeply. Moving off to one side, Paya rubbed Tauro’s stomach clockwise, no deep pressure on the abdomen. She was careful with his sacred Hara. Her circles got bigger and moved lower. His breathing was deep and regular. She stretched out beside him and kissed the side of his face. He brought an arm up around her shoulders and she leaned her head on his bicep. Her hand slid past the beads on his hips and she rubbed oil into the muscle attachments at his pubic bone.

Tauro brought his knees up to change the tilt of his pelvis and some of his beads clinked as he changed position. His breathing became a little more rapid but still steady. She kissed his throat, his heart, his belly, bringing her hands up to rub broad circles across his nipples with her thumbs. She licked his belly button, circling it with her tongue before pressing inside. He took an extra deep breath and his hips twitched.

Paya looked up at him through silver lashes. “Shall I remove the beads around your middle?” She asked. He pointed to the ties and her fingers were much steadier now. He pulled the strands from under his body and dropped them on top of Paya’s discarded clothes along with his magnifying lens.

The length of his penis lay along one of Tauro’s hip creases. He was swelling but not hard. She reverently rested her cheek against his belly and stroked her oily palm down the underside of his cock, her thumb continuing the motion down his scrotum in the valley between his testicles. She came back up behind his balls and grasped the whole root of him. Tauro began to pant a bit, one knee dropping to the futon to give her better access and his hands coming up to play with his tits. Paya spread saliva around her lips with her tongue and stroked her hand up the length of him. There was enough lubrication from the oil on her palms that she gave each pull a twist at the head. His foreskin began to pull back as blood rushed to his phallus.

Moving her hand to caress his inner thigh, Paya wrapped her tongue around the head of Tauro’s cock and slurped it between her wet lips. His abdomen heaved and he thrust, a little shallowly with no real intention, up into her mouth. “Oh, Goddess!” He yelped.

She sucked gently, pulling up, twisting her mouth around his head now. She swirled her tongue around the tip as he rolled his nipples between his fingers. Paya grasped his hip and began to bob her head slowly up and down his length. He breathed in deeply and rocked his pelvis toward her face. After a minute, she pulled off of him and drooled on his cock. Her hand stroked the base of him with this new lubrication as she caught her breath. When she swallowed him again, she took him as deeply as she comfortably could.

“OHHhhhh, Beloved!!”

Her eyes flickered shut. Her sucking pulsed. One hand made corkscrew motions where his penis joined his body and the other played the valley between his testicles again. Her thighs slipped against each other as her arousal started to spill out again.

Tauro was grunting, groaning in time to her strokes. Paya hummed, fluttering her tongue along the underside of his cock. She pressed his hips down in to the futon when he bucked up toward her, and came up for air. Tauro traced her jawline with a finger.

“Ok, Beloved, I’m ready ready now.” A little raggedy, but with some energy.

Now Paya’s lips were a little puffy as well, and glossed with her saliva. She reclined along side him and they turned to each other to kiss. Tauro’s phallus was hot and slick between the press of their bodies. She threw one leg over his hip and ground her inner flesh against his cock. He rolled her over on to her back and she wrapped her legs around him. He kissed her thoroughly, ardently as he rutted his hips into hers, sliding between her lips and over her clit, driving her desire higher. One hand ran down the front of her body to lavish attention on her breasts. A hand in his hair drew Tauro’s head back and he made eye contact with Paya. She laid her palm at the base of his skull. Tauro did the same for her and kissed the center of her Eye tattoo. Her other hand grasped the slippery length of him and guided him to the center of her heat. Tauro pressed his forehead against Paya’s and stared deeply into her eyes. She exhaled long and slow through her nostrils while he inhaled, then he exhaled long and slow, pushing his cock forward, while she drew his breath in. This time, Taura could feel her drawing his Shen, his spirit, into herself with their breath at the same time he was being physically drawn into her body.

Truly blessed.

He rocked his torso back and pushed his hips deeper. Paya rocked her pubic bone toward him and spread her legs wider. She breathed slowly and evenly, and as she relaxed open, Tauro sank deeper into her body from his own weight. They found each other’s lips, making the sounds lovers make as they explored. Her arms went around his neck like a garland. Then Tauro pushed himself up and the shift drove his cock deep enough that her pussy swallowed him whole. Paya cried out in satisfaction, wrapped her legs around his like vines anchoring him in place. He held there a moment, straining as he felt her hold on him. Everywhere.

“UHHhhhh”

A flash of lighting lit up the room in black and white.

Tauro folded forward seeking kisses. There was an abundance there for him as thunder rumbled in the distance. Paya reached both hands down for his ass cheeks and used the leverage to grind her clit against his pubic bone. Very guttural vocalizations came out of Tauro as he wrapped his arms under and up over her shoulders to hold on. Her head fell back in an arc, her mouth open, exposing the column of her neck. He ravaged her neck with lips and tongue, needing an outlet for the sensations and needing to spur her on. He rocked into her as much as he was able.

She felt so full. Not only full with her lover, with Tauro’s body, but full of vitality, full of pleasure, full of emotion. It felt so good to be in this body and to share it with someone who could honor all of her. She kneaded his buttocks and they both moaned as he flexed inside her. Tauro pushed himself on his hands so the balance of his weight was in his pelvis and he felt his shoulder muscles tense. Paya gasped, gripped his ass harder, circled her hips — mortar and pestle. She pushed him right up to the edge in her own release. He took a deep breath in, wrapped his fingers around her breasts, and rode the sensations. She gushed around him, pulled him deep with her internal embrace as they churned together. She lifted her knees around his ribs and, free to move his hips, Tauro began to move by millimeters in and out. The thinner, watery fluid of her release eliminated friction. She let go of his ass cheeks, put her hands over his on her breasts, and just let their bodies pulse together.

Tauro flexed himself inside her again and her torso rose off the bed. Kissing her. Kissing him. Kissing each other. He rested on his elbows and Paya wrapped her legs and arms around his back. This was an old language too. They matched breath, chests pressed together, and heartbeats hammering in synchrony. He moved in and out in time to their deep breathing. Push, pull, pressure, vacuum.

“Tauroooo…” Paya moaned

A hitch in his breath. Now in and out in time to their pounding hearts. “OhHH Paya!”

She could feel him growing fuller and firmer too. She was stretched to her capacity and she engulfed him. She kissed him, suckled his tongue, and pressed her heels into his sacrum at the base of his spine.

A scratchy gasp burst from his lips. His fluid movements were not under his intentional control anymore. He could feel energy building up in his Hara, in his guts, in his balls.

Paya spilled over first, calling his name again. The bed was rocking like a boat on the ocean. Tauro’s beads clicked in time to his thrusts. She was milking the core of him and he felt his energy expand outward. He rutted into her welcoming body, back bowed, and he felt like he was bursting apart like the birthing of a star. In a rush, his Jing, his essence, flowed from his root and poured into Paya. He poured it deep, deep into the well of her sacred waters. They cried to each other like cranes taking flight across the skies.

Lifegiving rain poured down on the village.

***

“…are you well, Tauro?”

“y- ye —ahem. mm. yes, Beloved.” murmured threads of voices.

“shall we rest just like this?”

“mm. don’t think… i can move anyway.”

sighs. rustling of bed linens. yawns. kisses. sleep.

***

Tauro cracked one eye open as sound of cuccoos crowing carried across the village despite the muffling blanket of rain.

Paya was still fast asleep. He’d moved off to one side of the bed at some point during their rest. Pulling the futon quilt up to his chin, Tauro snuggled up to her again. This definitely beat a bedroll or a cot in this kind of weather. He supposed there were some material advantages to staying in one place where you could cultivate things. His focus drifted around the room as he felt sleep starting to take hold again.

Sitting bolt upright in bed, Tauro asked, “Paya, is that an ORIGINAL tapestry depicting the Calamity??”

She startled awake, rubbing sleep out of her eyes and staring confusedly up at him. “mmmph?? Y-yes??? You didn’t notice it last night?” Her scratchy voice asked blearily, squinting at him.

“I was focused on OTHER THINGS, Beloved!”

Laughing, she put her arm over her eyes. “You took all your clothes off right in front of it!”

Mouth agape. “And you DIDN’T POINT IT OUT??!”

“I have looked at that tapestry every day of my life, sweet one. It started to pass beyond my notice when the Hero won against the second Calamity and we were no longer charged with keeping it safe for fate of the world.” Paya took his hand. “Have you learned much about Sheikah relics?”

He was considering her. “Not enough, apparently.”

Lying back down, Tauro wrapped an arm around Paya’s shoulder. “How many of your ancestors have had the tapestry?”

She brought a hand up to her Eye. “Including the weavers, I am the 108th generation to serve in this way.”

He started to play with the tie in his beard. “How old were you when Link reawoke the first time?”

“Mmmm, do your people count the year of pregnancy?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“I was twenty years of age.”

“… was your mother already…?”

“yes. I was being educated to become Chief after my grandmother.”

He squeezed her lightly. She placed a hand over his heart and snuggled into him.

“Paya, Link and the Sages are going to win.”

She curled her fingers. Sigh. “Tauro, I trust you. I still fear for my village, though. Where does your confidence come from?”

Considering in silence. “So much has been laid down before you and I were born. So many things have had to go right over thousands and thousands of years for us to have the tools and information we have at our disposal. You called me here at the opening of something new, each of us carrying this wisdom from the ancients, and then when we joined, it felt like we blessed the whole valley. Maybe we can’t see the whole story yet. But I think it has to mean that we have the best possible chance to succeed.”

Closing her eyes, Paya listened to the great whoosh of Tauro’s heartbeat. “I feel it, Tauro.” Her voice resonant, like a bell.

He kissed the crown of her head and turned to encircle her in his arms. They matched each other’s breathing and lay listening to the rain on the thatch.

[benevolenterrancy]

this is a little belated by I saw @dayinthedeath's discussion about who in torchwood is most likely to be spiderman and I needed to join in with this proposal: it's a team effort in united nerdy idiocy

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Werewolf Headcanons

I've been stalked by the guilty feeling that my Romanian Werewolf boy got a lot of backstory but not much romance or interaction. So there you have it: some headcanons featuring the ancient Beast, a post-kidnapping sequel.

Content: female reader, obsessive behavior, monster romance, mild NSFW at the end, ridiculously older yandere

You followed the gargantuan stranger back into the city, leaving the bloodbath behind as if it was just a distant dream. Admittedly, you’d expected to be dragged into some mountainous cave or an abandoned mansion, not the cozy - albeit a little dusty - apartment on a main, historical street. On second thought, he did function as a human outside of his monstrous escapades, so it made sense. “Is this your place?”, you sheepishly asked while he wiped the thick layers of blood off him. “One of them, yes”, he answered curtly. “It’s central”, you remarked, trying to make conversation. “Well, I didn’t know about it back then. It’s been a few decades.”

Your ears perked up at the words. Gazing at his features, he didn’t seem necessarily aged to you. The deep creases contouring his face felt more like a sign that he’s lived sorrows beyond most people’s comprehension. “How old are you?” You finally asked as curiosity replaced your initial fear. He abruptly stopped his movements and leaned back, brows furrowed in deep contemplation. “I’m not so sure anymore. I was born in the 80s”, he concluded. “That’s not too far back, is it?” You inquired, this time more relaxed. “80 BC, I meant. You do the math.”

He freshened himself up as you counted the millennia on your fingers, frowning in confusion. He chuckled at your intense focus, then quickly looked up into the mirror. When was the last time he smiled like this? The reflection was a foreign sight to him. “We’ll get you everything you need tomorrow”, he continued, still in a daze. What a strange idea, having someone to speak to after an eternity. And suddenly, it occurred to him just how rusted his communication had gotten: “I’m so sorry, I haven’t asked for your name once”, he said, embarrassed. “It’s (Y/N). And you are...?" Might as well introduce yourself to your benevolent captor.

The dreaded question. How did they call him back in the day? He hasn't had anyone spell it out for him, nor did he feel the need at any point to say it himself. Why would he? He hadn't anticipated meeting you. With pursed lips, he searched his mind. Eventually, from the depths or memories, from days of yore, it made its way back: "Daos."

Given your first gory encounter (where he quite literally murdered everyone else), you were surprised to find out he's otherwise a calm and polite individual. Well, he's had centuries to mature, you suppose. You've also noticed he has that rather old-fashioned chivalry to him. He's very attentive despite his stoic demeanor, and often follows with acts of service.

"You're insulting me. I can carry this myself with ease", you'll argue. "I never doubted you can. Nonetheless, it is my wish to do it for you."

As the days pass, your reluctance seems to vanish as well. In fact, you've become particularly cheeky, encouraged by his warm, unperturbed behavior. Maybe you haven't gotten the worst deal out there, after all.

"You know, you talk like an old man", you've teased him once. He was visibly taken aback by your statement, and you could discern a faint blush on his face. "Do I? My apologies, I haven't spoken to anyone in a long time. I'm not familiar with modern speech. Have I embarrassed you somehow?"

He spends his free time reading, though he will frequently take you on walks. It's an interesting affair to say the least. You can feel the curious eyes of the passersby and hear their not-so-discreet whispered gossip. You can't truly blame them: Daos is enormous even as a human. He towers above everyone else with his imposing appearance. To match, his voice is deep and coarse as a result of not using it much until recently.

The ancient werewolf is a living history book. If asked, he will narrate to you important events or details you might be curious about regarding his culture. Once, when he'd been in a good mood, he even shared fragments of his life before turning into a creature. He'd been a high-ranked Dacian warrior, spending his days training or fighting. He still remembers the flag he carried with bitter fondness, yet another irony to his fate: a wolf-headed serpent. It was meant to showcase their way of life; barbarians with no fear of death. They'd greeted the Roman Empire with nothing but a sword and a shield, no shred of doubt.

He might've been betrayed by his people, but the pride remains. The pride of a soldier who's never known defeat. You learned quickly that his beastly form doesn't count as a significant change by any means, save for appearances. The man has brute strength even as a human. You'd once strayed from his view, and a stranger approached with a daring whistle, gawking you up and down. Before you could react, Daos clawed him by the throat. You heard the twist of the skin and the creak of the bones giving in to the immense pressure of his large hand.

"It's the second time I have exposed you to such unpleasant sights", he said, discarding the body as if it was any other garbage. "Forgive me, but I will not have you disrespected like this."

He is very much aware he's taken you away from the world out of his own selfish desire. The fact that you accepted it is more than he could ever ask for. That's what he keeps telling himself, even as his eyes wander to your lips whenever you speak. Or as his hand lingers a moment too long against the curve of your back. Or as he hungrily takes in your scent whenever you're nearby.

He might be unhealthily possessive of you, but Daos will never do anything against your will. No matter how obvious his urges are. In fact, no amount of flirting or teasing will shake his resolve. You will have to be very direct with your approval.

Once the reality settles in, he'll become extremely affectionate, bordering on obsessive. To think he could have you in every way possible. Oh, he's waited thousands of years for you. All the suffering, the loneliness, the anger, they're stripped of any meaning now that he has you.

The city strolls at an awkward distance have since become a habitual excuse to hold your hand and show you off to the mortals. The quiet evenings of passing time with a book now include your merely noticeable weight cuddled into his lap. You didn't expect him to be this adoring. Being touch-starved for millennia counts as one reason, naturally, but there's more to it, so much more. And it all leads back to you.

He is a little taken aback when you ask him to do the deed in his werewolf form. "Don't be foolish. I can't overcome my instincts as well when I'm a creature. I could harm you", he'll lecture you. "Besides, you can barely take it as it currently is", he'll add, smirking at your baffled expression. It seems he's picked up on your cheekiness.

After a lot of pleading and waiting for the right moment - when he's ravaging you in a daze - he finally agrees. True to his word, his tune instantly changes. The tender hold turns into a desperate grasp sinking into your skin, and the thrusts become irregular, almost frantic. His drool cools your burning cheeks as you hold onto the coarse fur, feverish and overwhelmed.

His golden eyes rest on the small human squirming underneath him, and suddenly, he can't help but notice: you have the perfect birthing hips.

[stevieschrodinger]

Everything is going slowly foggy. The fear is fading. Eddie's vaguely aware that it's probably because he's dying. What was terrifying a couple of minutes ago, is only vaguely of interest now. An ephemeral pressure on the back of his brain. Present, yet easy to ignore.

All he can taste is his own blood, but it's not so bad. At least he can tell Dustin how much he loves him. And Steve's there. Steve Harrington. Who knew he would turn out to be such a great guy? So, yeah. It all feels alright.

Eddie feels sleepy, vaguely aware that he's, actually, probably dying.

He closes his eyes.

There's a strange sense of vertigo, strange enough that Eddie notices he's standing up before he notices that someone's kissing him. It's a soft press of lips. It's wonderful.

Eddie blinks his eyes open, and from an inch away, he's looking at Steve Harrington.

He's standing in a kitchen. it's nice. Eddie's clean; he's wearing sweats and a tee. Barefoot. The kitchen smells like coffee, and sun is shining in through the window.

Somewhere in the house, a child sequels; Eddie startles. "Steve?" He asks, carefully. "I mean...not that it isn't-"

The child comes barreling into the room. It's a little girl. She's wearing the smallest Dio shirt Eddie's ever seen. She throws herself at Eddie's legs, screaming "Papa!"

Eddie has no idea what his face is doing as he looks down at this little girl, but Steve is taking his hand, tugging it, Eddie looks up, "it happened again, didn't it? You forgot again?"

"I...what?"

Steve scoops up the little girl, throwing her over his shoulder, she squeals again, laughing like this is the best thing ever, "come on pumpkin patch, Papa's not feeling so hot today and auntie Robin's going to be here in two whole minutes."

He looks back to Eddie, mouthing 'just wait, okay?'

Eddie, at a loss, just nods.

He creeps to the doorway, watching, fascinated, as Steve Harrington fixes the little girls hair into pig tails. Helps her get her socks straight. Helps her tie the laces on her sneakers. Gets her back pack on her, "eat your carrot sticks today, okay Ronnie?"

'Ronnie,' Eddie mouths to himself.

Watches as Steve puts her little hand into Robin's, standing on the front porch. Robin looks different. Older. She's smartly dressed.

Steve whispers something to her, and she looks at Eddie. Smiles a sad smile. They leave.

Steve stands there for a moment, waves them off, then closes the door. He seems to steal himself, and then he turns and comes back to Eddie, "I have to go to work, but, come on, let me show you something."

Eddie follows Steve into an office, there's shit everywhere, "I don't come in here often, your mess drives me fucking batshit," Steve digs into a desk drawer, brings out a notebook. "I have no idea what's in here, I've never read it. Something about...what happened. You did die. You were oxygen deprived long enough to cause a brain injury, so sometimes you...forget everything. After the second time it happened, you started writing letters to yourself. So, yeah...you call it your instruction manual, I get it for you when this happens."

It takes Eddie what feels like a really fucking long time to process this, and he can't help but notice that Steve's eyes are wet, Eddie feels crushingly guilty about it.

"Okay so what do I...do?"

Steve shrugs, "read it, I guess. You add to it whenever anything important happens...Eddie...just, the bats, they did a number on you...when you, when you look at the scars, the first time, just, brace yourself, okay and...don't forget that I love you, no matter what, I love you."

And Steve just...leaves the house. Leaves Eddie in this absolute disaster of an office. Leaves him holding a notebook that's ratty and untidy and feels like it's bursting at the seams.

Eddie reads.

So, I'm going to try and keep this simple, but I'm you, from the past, and our dumb ass has fucking brain damage...

You're not going to fucking believe this...we bagged Steve Harrington...

Hold on to your hat big boy, but we got fucking published! And if you're reading this, then you are in for a treat, because it means you get to read our genius for the first time all over again...

Okay, so this one was a bad one, we initially, didn't react so well, so, here's what I was worried about, and I'll talk you through it...

So, I need you to not fuck this up for us, okay? So, this is the Steve Harrington play book. The man is romantic, buy flowers, do nice shit. I cannot stress this enough - just pick up your crap man, he hates it when the place is messy. Now, we have to get it right so here's everything I know, I'll start at the top and work down. He loves having his hair played with, and tugged, but not too hard, gentle but firm, there's a sweet spot. The neck, the whole thing is an erogenous zone, I really can't downplay the importance of the neck...

We bought a fucking house! Look at it! Just look at it! And Eddie does, because there's a Polaroid stuck to the page.

So, this might sound dumb, and I probably should have written to you sooner, but...Steve jizzed in a cup for Robs, and Nancy turkey basted it, you know. Anyway, the point is...Rob's pregnant. With our baby. And then me and Nance got drunk, like, to celebrate, and she got all sad that her and Robin weren't having a baby, stay with me, I know this is mad as shit, but Nancy wanted our kid and their kid to grow up together....

Look, I don't know if it's the stress of like, imminent fatherhood, but we've been forgetting a lot lately, so, here's the plan for when Rob's in labor, and everything you've talked to Steve about when it comes to being the stay at home parent, okay...

The next page is just a Polaroid, a little scrunched up face. A little pink potato swaddled in blankets, and underneath it says 'Ronnie Jamie Harrington'...

And the next page, another Polaroid, another scrunched up face, another little pink potato swaddled in blankets, and underneath it says 'Stephanie Edwina Wheeler'...

Steve comes home. He looks exhausted. Like, drained. And, worried and scared and pale and lots of other things Eddie can't even begin to imagine. Eddie holds his arms out and Steve practically throws himself into them, "how long does it take, for me to get back to normal?"

Steve shrugs, "it's different every time, but it's a good sign you're still here, sometimes you run. Those times are the worst ones."

Six weeks later, Eddie writes to himself, "do not, under any circumstances, run away..."

Eddie thinks he's seeing things. Thinks maybe he's going senile. But he hasn't forgotten for...well, it's been years now. At least seven or eight. And yeah, Ronnie might be about to finish high school and Steve might be stressed to fuck over her college applications, but...Eddie's glad. He's glad she's spreading her wings. He's glad they managed to produce a stand up human being.

He's really glad her and Steph are trying for the same colleges, they're always going to have each other.

But yea...he's worried his mind is kind of...slipping. Hasn't told Steve. Doesn't want to worry him. They're both sprouting a few gray hairs, no need to add to those.

But sometimes. Sometimes when Eddie looks out of the window, he thinks, for a moment, that the sky is dark and...it looks like snow?

And sometimes, Eddie catches himself in the mirror, and he's sure he's dirty. A mess. Covered in blood but...no. He walks back a step, checks again. Everything is fine.

Sometimes he's sees movement out of the corner of his eye.

Sometimes, in the beat of the music or the rumble of the car engine, he swears he hears things. Sometimes a voice. Sometimes it sounds like they're yelling.

Sometimes it sounds like Steve.

And once, he blinked awake, Steve bringing him a coffee. But it wasn't Steve, for the time between startled, half asleep blinks, it was Vecna.

It gets worse.

Something isn't right. The house is empty, and it shouldn't be.

He can hear Steve, but he can't find him. And that's silly because the house isn't that big. He searches and searches, growing more frantic. He calls back to Steve, but Steve...doesn't seem to hear him.

There's something dim about the light, but the light has always been that way, hasn't it? Something...dusty, in the air. Eddie feels like he's dreaming. He has to be dreaming; there's a crack in the living room wall. A crack that spreads and lengthens until the whole house is crumbling and Eddie can see clearly now that the sky here flashes red.

That it's always been flashing red.

How did he not see before? The dust on every surface? The pages of his notebook are blank. Eddie knows. He's always known.

Steve.

Steve is here. He's hanging from Eddie's fist, bruised and bloodied and begging Eddie. Begging Eddie to stop this, to hear him, to see him. It's Steve.

It's Eddie's Steve.

Next to him, Vecna says, "finish it."

Eddie has something in his hand, the hilt of something he's sure of, long and sharp and dependable.

Eddie doesn't think, he just moves.

He drops Steve.

He doesn't need to look. Eddie turns, and he swings.

Part Two

[writingquestionsanswered]

I'm tired of my ideas always being big. It's overwhelming. I like seeing others' WIPs and ideas because they're just so simple... Like, that comic about a mermaid living in the ocean in our modern time and dealing with plastic trash. So simple and my own brain is bursting with ideas. But my own WIPs... they just start huge. I'd like something smaller... but I don't know how.

Stories Always Get Too Big

Stories can get out of hand quickly when they sprout too many independent threads. There are three primary culprits that serve as sparks that create these threads:

1 - Setting 2 - Non-Protagonist Characters/Relationships 3 - Back Story

The thing to remember, though, is that no matter how interesting your setting is, no matter how compelling your other characters are, and how fascinating the back story is, those things are not your plot.

Plot is the sequence of events through which the protagonist (and potentially other main characters) attempt to resolve the story's conflict by overcoming obstacles and setbacks in pursuit of a goal.

In other words, focus on this:

the protagonist > their normal world > the event that introduces a problem they must resolve > the goal they formulate in order to resolve that problem > the events that occur as a result of their pursuit of this goal > their attempts to overcome obstacles and setbacks encountered along the way > their attempt to solve the problem once and for all > failure or success > life in a changed situation/world

Anything else doesn't need to be there unless it is critical in order for one of the above steps to make sense.

So, let's take your mermaid example... though I haven't read that comic so I'm winging it here:

the protagonist = mermaid normal world = doing mermaid stuff inciting incident = finding plastic trash in the water goal = clean up/find the culprit and teach them to do better events = cleaning up, learning about humans, tracking down culprit climax = mermaid appeals to humans to do better finale = mermaid is living in a cleaner ocean

Now, let's say your brain starts to go off on a tangent about a deep oceanic rift and an evil merman wizard who lives there... stop right there. It's a fun idea, but what does it have to do with this story? How does it relate to the trash, clean-up, finding the culprit, or appeal to humans to do better? It doesn't. Theoretically, you could make it make sense... like, maybe the merman wizard likes the trash and wants the ocean to be dirty and gross, so maybe he is opposing the mermaid's attempts to clean up and to appeal to the humans. Okay, that works, so you can keep it. But, let's say you also have this idea about these creatures that live around the hydrothermal vents, and the mermaid meets and falls in love with a scientist who's studying them. Okay, again, interesting idea, but this one is much harder to fit in with the rest of the story. Sure, you could say the scientist is studying marine pollution instead... that brings it back around to the main conflict, but still, what does this relationship add to the story? How does it help or harm the mermaid's mission? How does it help to explore the story's themes or help deliver the message? It doesn't really sound like it does, so this would be an example of a thread you can probably snip.

And the thing is, it would be okay to follow a thread like that while you're plotting or writing your first draft, just to see where it goes and see if you can make it work. Part of why we edit and revise is to snip out the threads and elements that aren't pulling their weight. But learning how to curb them as they occur to you will help save you work later on down the line. Try writing those ideas down in an ideas document, and maybe those can be worked into different stories, a sequel, or a companion story.

One final note: I am very much aware that there are some epic writers out there who let wild tangles of threads sprout as they write, and they follow them all without abandon, relevant or not. That's okay, too. These are writers for whom that works, who don't feel overwhelmed by all of those threads, who want to write something bigger and more unwieldy. Maybe in time as you get accustomed to writing smaller, tidier stories, you embrace the bigger stories your brain wants to tell. Or maybe you don't. Whatever works best for you is all that matters. :)

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[punkshort]

look what we've become - ch.1

Chapter Summary: Tommy asks for your help proposing to Maria, causing both you and Joel to reflect on your own relationship.

Chapter Warnings: language, mentions of alcohol, fear of commitment, smut (18+ MDNI), fingering, oral (f receiving), p in v unprotected sex, dirty talk

WC: 6.1K

Series masterlist | Next Chapter

A/N: hi everyone! if you're new and didn't read the first story, this follows a slightly different timeline. Essentially, Joel and Tommy had a very successful construction business in NYC and reader worked for them pre-outbreak, so I've written in this story a slightly younger version of Joel given the timeline.

Thank you to everyone who loved the first one so much that it encouraged me to write a sequel! I really hope you like it, and I want to emphasize there will be a happy ending to this story. Thanks for reading!

June 2007

"Can't thank you enough for your help, darlin'," Tommy said, his voice trying and failing to hide the anxiety that plagued his mind.

"Don't mention it," you told him, finishing up the final touches on the bouquet of flowers, wrapping a beautiful satin ribbon around the stems before handing it over. "What's the occasion?"

"I'm gonna ask her to marry me," he blurted out, and your hands instantly flew to your mouth, covering your excited gasp.

"Tommy!" you squealed, bouncing on the balls of your feet, trying to contain your energy before giving up and rounding your workstation to wrap your arms around him, being mindful not to crush the flowers he was holding. "I'm so happy for you, oh my god!"

"Well, thanks, but she ain't agreed, yet," he said, running a shaky hand through his long hair.

"She's going to say yes, don't be silly," you told him, a smile permanently etched on your face. You and Maria have been close friends ever since you met three years ago. You considered her to be your closest friend in Jackson, and you were thrilled at the idea of your best friend about to experience the happiest moment of her life. Tommy had come a long way from the man you knew before the outbreak, his days of chasing every girl that tossed him a smile long behind him.

"So, how are you going to do it?" you asked excitedly as he shifted back and forth on his feet. He paused and flicked his eyes up.

"Uh," he said, growing shifty. "Well, I dunno. Do I gotta plan somethin'?"

"Yes!" you said, rolling your eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck anxiously.

"Well, shit, I didn't think that far ahead!" he exclaimed, turning to pace around the greenhouse.

"Don't stress, we'll figure something out," you assured him, scooting back so you could lift your hips and sit on your workstation tabletop. "Did you find a ring?"

"Yeah, I got that, at least," he said, his shoulders relaxing a bit as he dug it out of his pocket. You plucked it from his fingers carefully so you could get a better look at the three round, shiny diamonds set on the center of a gold band.

"It's perfect," you told him warmly, handing it back. He allowed a small smile as he shoved it back into the safety of his pocket.

"Will you help me figure out how to do it?" he asked.

"Of course I will," you told him. "She doesn't like a fuss. It should be private. Small. Romantic. And you need to come up with something thoughtful to say." He nodded, his gaze traveling to the wall, lost in thought before he shifted his eyes back to you.

"Like what?"

"Tommy! Come on!" you scolded him, shoving his shoulder.

"I ain't good at all that, cut me some slack!" he said with a grin. "I need an example. What would you wanna hear?"

You paused, your smile frozen on your face as you felt your blood run cold. Your smile began to slowly slip as your heart slammed in your chest, anxiety creeping up your neck, ears ringing. Naturally, you were thinking about Joel bending down on one knee, professing his love to you and begging you to be his forever. A thought that should have filled you with warmth, but instead, scared you shitless. And your reaction itself made it even worse. Why would the thought of Joel proposing scare you? You never wanted anyone else. Once you met, it just wasn't a question anymore. You were his, and he was yours. An understanding, it didn't need to be said. So why does the thought of him saying it make you feel like you're falling down an endless hole in the ground?

"Um," you managed to squeak out, but Tommy had already moved on, wrapped up in his own dilemma.

"I think I know what I could say," he said, not noticing your sudden paralysis. "Can you do me a favor, though? Could you round up any candles you ain't usin'? Preferably unscented, don't need the whole place smellin' like a mix of cookies, pine and roses."

"Yeah, of course. I'll look when I get home and bring them over," you mumbled.

"Great, thanks again, darlin'! I'll see you in a bit," he said with a more confident smile, rushing out the door to leave you with your thoughts, your legs swinging mindlessly over the edge of the workstation. The workstation Joel had thoughtfully built for you because he insisted you needed somewhere proper to work in the greenhouse.

And he also broke the only desk you had.

You hung your head, feeling shameful and confused. Why hadn't you ever thought about this before? What would you have done if he proposed and you never sorted out your feelings about marriage? About kids?

"Shit," you whispered, the mere thought of kids making your throat squeeze shut. Bringing a child into this world? He wouldn't want to do that, would he?

Maybe you were getting ahead of yourself. Maybe he felt the same as you. Why change something that's working so well? You both loved each other, what difference did it make? But the devil on your shoulder threw back a counter argument.

If it didn't make a difference, then why didn't you want to do it?

You rubbed the heels of your hands into your eyes aggressively. You really needed to stop making problems out of nothing. This wasn't about you and Joel, it was about Tommy and Maria.

You sighed and made your way down the long aisle towards the door, deciding it was close enough to the end of your shift.

"Hey, I was callin' your name, didn't you hear me?"

You nearly jumped out of your skin and turned around to find Joel leaning against the doorframe of the spare bedroom. He eyed up the half empty box next to you on the floor and looked back at you questioningly.

"No, sorry, guess I was lost in my thoughts or something," you told him, turning back to rifle through the plastic storage tote. Joel took a few steps into the room and sat down on the spare bed, the springs squeaking under his weight.

"What're you thinkin' about?" he asked as he watched you pulling out each candle and giving them a sniff before deciding which pile to add them to.

"Huh?" you asked him, still jumpy from your revelation earlier. "Oh, it's nothing, really." Even to your own ears, the excuse sounded lame, so you weren't surprised when Joel didn't buy it.

"Must be somethin' if it's got you all distracted," he urged you gently. You shook your head and gave him a believing smile.

"No, really, it's nothing. Just thinking about work. I left early today, I'm just thinking about what I need to do tomorrow," you lied as you finished up going through the candles, snapping the plastic tote lid back on and shoving it into the spare closet.

"Why'd you leave early?" Joel asked with his eyebrows knit. "Feelin' okay?"

He's always so thoughtful, so concerned about you. It made the pit in your stomach worsen, the guilt flaring.

"Oh, yeah, fine. I just told Tommy I would get him these extra candles as soon as possible, so I'm gonna head over there real quick," you explained. As you leaned down to pick up the box, Joel's hand shot out to stop you, choosing instead to lift it up himself.

"I can do it," he said, then looked back down at the open box curiously. "Why does he need so many candles?"

"Well," you said, turning to leave the room so your face wouldn't give anything away when you told him. "He's going to propose to Maria. He has some special thing planned, involving candles, I guess. We should probably standby in case he lights the house on fire," you joked over your shoulder as you made your way down to the kitchen. You knew you were rambling a bit, but you hoped Joel didn't pick up on your nervousness.

"He's what?" Joel exclaimed, stopping dead in his tracks in the hallway, still holding the box of candles. You turned your attention towards him again as you leaned against the kitchen counter.

"Yep, he told me today. He asked me to make a bouquet for him at work," you told him, studying his face carefully. Joel looked stunned as he stared out the window behind you while he processed the information.

"Well, goddamn," he said, finally snapping out of it with a smirk. "I'll take these over so I can give him shit for not tellin' me sooner." He readjusted the box in his arms before he turned around towards the front door, his reaction giving you a bit of relief. He was just happy for his brother, and didn't appear to be overthinking your own relationship, like you couldn't stop doing.

Naturally, you worried about nothing. You were both perfectly content with the way things were. Feeling silly for even being nervous in the first place, you followed him to the front door and stopped him before he left.

"Hey, wait," you said from the door, causing him to turn around just as he was about to descend the stairs. "How about a kiss before you go?"

He grinned and, dropping the box in a chair by the front door, reached forward with both hands to cradle your face and pulled you towards him, his lips pressing firmly against yours. Your fingers gripped the front of his T-shirt as you sighed contentedly against him, his usual scent of gunpowder, sweat and something uniquely him filling your nostrils. You opened your mouth and licked gently at his lips, causing him to smile and slide his tongue alongside yours with a quiet groan while one of his hands released your jaw to get tangled in your hair. He gave your head a gentle tug backwards in an attempt to get you to open your mouth wider, but when a soft moan escaped your lips from the sensation, he felt himself stiffen in his jeans. He pulled you back further so you lost contact and he looked down at your flushed face, his hands still in your hair and on your jaw.

"I'll take these later," he said huskily, nodding to the candles next to the door as he walked you backwards inside the house.

"No, no, you have to take them now," you giggled as his mouth latched onto your neck. "He needs them before Maria gets home." He growled against your skin and begrudgingly pulled away, his eyes raking up and down your body before he stepped backwards.

"Don't move, I'll be back in ten minutes," he told you, grabbing the box and jogging down the steps. You laughed and closed the door behind him, wondering why you let yourself get worked up over nothing. Everything was great between you, you were never more sure of anything in your life. In the back of your mind, you knew you had to figure out why you had such a negative reaction to the thought of marriage in the first place, but you decided to put that off for another day.

"Can't believe you didn't tell me, you little shit," Joel teased with a smirk the minute Tommy swung the door open. He pushed his way into the house and glanced around quickly to make sure Maria wasn't there before turning back to Tommy.

"Heard you needed some mood lighting," Joel said, raising an eyebrow when Tommy ruefully snatched the box from his arms.

"Yeah, thanks," was all Tommy could manage, his nerves getting the best of him the more time passed.

"Nervous or somethin'?" Joel asked his brother as he casually took in the half-done scene he was setting in the living room. Candles were randomly dispersed throughout the room and two empty wine glasses were placed on top of the mantle.

"Yeah, I'm fuckin' nervous, 'course I'm nervous, shit," Tommy said as he raked a hand through his hair and got to work sifting through the box.

"Well, it ain't like she's gonna say 'no'," said Joel in a poor attempt at easing his brother's nerves.

"Don't matter. I gotta do it right. It'll mean a lot to her, she's probably got some fantasy in her head already 'bout how it'll go. I can't screw this up," Tommy said as he pushed past Joel to balance more candles on the bookshelf.

"Nah, you're overthinkin' it, they just like the ring so they can show it off," Joel replied, thinking back briefly to the time when he was engaged before the outbreak. Amy hardly cared about the effort he put into the proposal, but her eyes lit up like a Christmas tree when she saw the huge diamond he picked out.

"Oh, brother, you couldn't be more wrong. Your own girl told me I need to do somethin' thoughtful. Somethin' romantic. Shit, you're lucky you got me before you swiped the biggest rock you could find and think that'll be enough to make her happy," Tommy grinned as he nudged Joel's shoulder playfully, making his way back into the kitchen to pick out a bottle of wine.

Joel chewed on his lower lip and cracked his knuckles before scratching his beard, his eyes flicking around the room, lost in thought, while Tommy began to light the candles. Tommy noticed the sudden silence and paused, straightening up and raising an eyebrow at his brother.

"You already got a ring, don't you?"

Joel met his gaze for a moment before clearing his throat and running a hand through his hair.

"I've had it for months," Joel admitted, bringing his thumb and pointer finger up to rub his eyes.

"Holy shit, Joel! Why didn't you say anythin'?" Tommy exclaimed, walking over to clap his brother on the back.

"I don't know. You never said anythin', either," he said with a shrug.

"Well, when are you gonna do it?" Tommy asked, turning back to light the candles, grateful for the distraction.

"Don't know. Never seems like the right time," said Joel as he picked up the bottle of red wine Tommy placed on the mantle, scrutinizing the label. "And it's a good thing, too, seein' as I need to rethink how I'm gonna ask her, apparently."

"Yeah, well, one of these days I can ask Maria for advice, if you want," Tommy said, brushing his palms on the sides of his jeans as he made his way to the window, peering out to make sure she wasn't coming home early. "Least I could do, since I got help from your girl."

"Yeah, maybe," Joel replied as he distractedly ran his palm over his mouth.

"Alright, get the hell out of here, I gotta change and put the flowers in a vase before Maria gets home," Tommy said, pushing Joel towards the front door. He opened the door but Joel paused, turning around quickly and enveloping Tommy in a rare, quick hug.

"Congrats, brother. She's gonna love it," he said, gesturing vaguely around the living room. Tommy grinned and nodded.

"Thanks. Now leave, I mean it," he said, giving Joel a shove. Joel laughed and shook his head.

"I'm leavin', I'm leavin'," he said with a wave over his shoulder. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he made his way slowly down the street.

He was telling Tommy the truth about the ring. He hadn't gone out looking for it, but one day, months ago, when he was on patrol with Eugene, he just happened to see it. They had been exploring an abandoned shopping mall, and when he walked by the jewelry store, he had glanced inside at the broken glass display cases and spotted what he thought was the perfect ring for you. It was an oval diamond set on a delicate, white gold band. He had picked it up and examined it thoughtfully, imagining what it would look like on your finger. He briefly looked at the other choices, and none of the others seemed to resonate with him the way that one did. So he pocketed it before Eugene noticed he was lingering, and hid it in an old shoe he had in the closet when he got home.

When he first came home with the ring, he couldn't stop fantasizing about how he would ask you, what he would say, what you would say. But he hadn't been in any rush to ask, and he hadn't really thought about it much after that, he just knew he wanted to spend his life with you. He had almost forgotten all about it until you told him about Tommy's plan earlier that day. But now that his brother had him thinking about it again, the idea of officially making you his and calling you his wife made him feel excited.

He walked through the front door and kicked his boots off before he made his way down the hallway and into the kitchen, where he saw you drying some plates and putting them away. You glanced over your shoulder when you heard him enter the room before turning back to your task.

"Little longer than ten minutes," you teased. You were drying your hands on the dish towel when his arms snaked around your waist and he buried his face in the back of your neck. You squirmed, his grip loosening so you could turn around and gently circle your arms around his neck. "What took you so long?"

He shrugged and leaned down to press a chaste kiss where your neck met your shoulder.

"Just got to talkin'," he murmured, pressing another kiss in the same spot. You hummed and tilted your head to the side a bit, closing your eyes.

"I was thinking, maybe we should throw them an engagement party," you whispered, trying to stay focused as his lips brushed along your neck, his scruffy beard giving you goosebumps. "I can ask Carrie to help, she loves that kind of thing."

"That'd be nice," he mumbled in agreement, flipping his head in the other direction so he could continue his torture on the opposite side of your neck. "We can have it here."

"Yeah," you sighed as you shifted your weight, trying to ignore the ache growing between you legs. "I thought we could - "

You inhaled sharply when he pinched the skin of your collarbone between his teeth, leaving an angry red mark there. Your fingers found their way into his dark curls, gripping them tightly as your breathing became shallow.

"Hm?" he asked, hiding his smirk against your skin.

"Thought we could do it outside," you mumbled, quickly finishing your thought.

"Whatever you want," he said, his voice gravelly as he pulled you into him roughly, earning a small yelp from you. His lips latched onto yours, softly humming against your mouth, the warm exhale from your nose fanning gently over his face. You pulled away, breaking the kiss as he began slowly walking you backwards towards the stairs, his eyes dark as he stared you down.

"Maybe Julia's class can make decorations. I think Maria would like that," you said breathlessly, gazing up at him, meeting his heated stare. "What do you think?"

Joel gave you half a smirk when the backs of your legs bumped up against the lowest step.

"I think you better get up to bed right now before I toss you over my shoulder and do it myself," he said lowly, sending a shiver down your spine.

A playful grin spread across your face as you turned on your heel and raced up the stairs, Joel following hot on your trail, taking them two at a time.

You barely pushed the bedroom door open before his hands were on you, eagerly skirting over your hips and up your arms before coming to rest on your jaw, cradling your head in his hands tenderly as his tongue slid between your lips, reveling in your warmth. Being with you always felt like home to him, it was where he was always meant to be.

"So beautiful," he mumbled against your mouth before he pressed his lips against yours again, his fingers gripping your head a little tighter, like he was afraid you would float away.

Your fingers deftly worked on undoing his jeans as he continued to walk you towards the bed. Just as you were about to reach below his waistband, he scooped down to pick you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips, clinging to him as he softly placed you both down.

He lifted his head up a fraction to look down at you underneath him, his thumb gently stroking your cheek, looking at you with admiration. His eyes flicked up to the open closet door, the urge to confirm the shoe with the ring in it was still in its rightful place, that you hadn't accidentally found it.

"What is it?" you asked him breathlessly, noticing how his attention had been stolen away. He quickly brought his gaze back down to you with a sly smile.

"Nothin'," he said with a shake of his head, then leaned down to part your lips again with his tongue, curling his fingers along the back of your neck, deepening the kiss with slow, leisurely licks inside your mouth. Your fingers danced over his broad shoulders for a moment before you made your way down his chest and stomach, pausing to gently rake your nails through the coarse hair at the top of his boxers, then plunging down to wrap your hand around his stiff cock.

He groaned softly into your mouth when you gave him a squeeze, his hips shallowly thrusting forward into your hand as you stroked him up and down.

"Slow down," Joel gasped, tearing himself away from your mouth and flexing his fingers around your wrist, stopping you. "Wanna take my time with you tonight," he drawled, taking your hand away and pinning it lightly into the mattress.

"Joel," you whined, lifting your hips up from the bed, frustrated. He tutted and shook his head.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you. You know I always do," he said huskily, his mouth latching onto your neck. "Wanna take care of you for the rest of my life," he added quietly, his voice muffled against your skin and lost in the sounds of your moans. You tipped your head back, your free hand sliding through his thick curls, fingernails raking against his scalp just the way he likes.

He let go of your hand so he could lift your shirt over your head, followed quickly by your bra. Slowly, his eyes swept over your bare chest, his knuckles brushing against your nipple and watching as it perked up in response, then once he was satisfied, did the same to the other.

"So soft," he muttered to himself before diving down and sucking one into his mouth, the tip of his tongue flicking against your nipple before he flattened it against your sensitive skin, licking slow, hot stripes up and down. He lifted his mouth from your skin and blew gently over the wetness his tongue left behind. You gasped at the sensation, your cunt clenching around nothing as he switched sides, giving the same attention to your other breast while his fingers roamed around your waist, then dipped down to squeeze your ass and hips.

You whined his name and tugged on his hair, begging him to touch you, vaguely wondering why he was in the mood to take things so painfully slow, but you were unable to form a coherent thought other than why are my fucking jeans still on?

"Joel, please," you whimpered, pathetically jutting your hips upwards, trying to find friction against him to no avail. He finally released your breast and looked up at you, your chest heaving, hair a mess and your eyes glazed over, already looking completely wrecked. He smirked at the sight and pushed himself up, hovering over you.

"Alright, sweetheart, I'll give you one," he said, much to your relief as his hand came between you to pop open your jeans. He pulled down the zipper and you hooked your thumbs into your belt loops, helping to pull them down as quickly as you could and kicked them off. His eyes glanced down, feeling his cock twitch when saw the dark spot leaking through your panties.

He looped his fingers around the sides of your underwear and pulled them off, then flattened his palms on the insides of your thighs so he could admire the mess he made of you. He ran his middle finger up the length of your seam, testing the waters before dipping inside, marveling at how soaked you were already. His eyes drifted up to your face, mesmerized as you writhed underneath him, your eyes screwed shut and your brows pinched as you focused on his second finger entering your aching cunt.

"Oh, fuck, Joel," you whimpered, snapping your eyes open just to find him already gazing down at you, his eyes dark and filled with want. You rocked your hips forward, trying to make him go faster, but he continued to slowly pump both fingers in and out, in and out, curling his fingertips as he reached inside, brushing against the spot that he knows makes you fall apart.

"That feel better?" he breathed, and you nodded, clutching the sheets in your fist as the fire in your stomach began to burn, the warmth creeping up your chest and neck with every plunge of his fingers. His thumb brushed gently over your clit and you cried out, your body stiffening underneath him as you felt your orgasm steadily approach, your breath coming in short gasps when he finally began to circle the swollen bundle of nerves.

"Faster," you croaked, tipping your head back, but he shook his head and continued his torturous pace.

"It'll feel better this way," he said, and you groaned. "Do you trust me?" he asked, and you brought your head back down so you could look at him again.

"Yes," you whispered, watching as his eyes lit up and a smug grin spread across his face.

"Then let go," he ordered. You inhaled sharply as you felt your walls clench down and your release drip down his fingers, your orgasm slowly ripping through you with a strangled moan. You reached out and grabbed his wrist when it became too much, your body relaxing onto the bed and your eyes fluttering shut.

He slid his fingers out, earning a hiss from you before he popped them into his mouth. You opened your eyes weakly as you watched him suck his fingers, his other hand palming his erection over his jeans and looking down at you panting beneath him, his gaze dark.

"I need more," he murmured as he shimmied down the bed to settle his face between your legs, his hands sliding up your shaky thighs to pin them down to the mattress.

"Wait, Joel," you told him breathlessly. "Too soon, I - it's too much," you said, pulling feebly at his hair. He ignored you, too lost in his own thoughts, the fantasy of making you his and calling you his wife consuming him.

He licked a stripe through your folds, his tongue plunging inside briefly before taking another long, slow drag. You wiggled under his hold with a gasp, your body involuntarily trying to squirm away from overstimulation, but his large hands pinned you down as his tongue probed further inside you.

He knew he was pushing you to your limits, but he couldn't stop. He felt like a man possessed. He alternated between licking and nibbling at your sensitive cunt, trying to avoid your most sensitive area until he knew you could handle it. Only when he finally felt your legs relax under his palms and heard your breathy moans of encouragement did he venture up to press his tongue flat against your clit. Your fingers tugged at his curls, his eyes rolling to the back of his head with a moan. He always loved it when you pulled on his hair. He sucked your clit into his mouth, swirling it around his tongue slowly, trying to drag out the pleasure as long as possible.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes. The pressure building inside you too intense. You felt like you were vibrating, Joel's expert hands and mouth making your body pulse and thrum, your breaths shallow and sharp.

You tried to say his name, but it came out as a pathetic whimper instead. The way he lapped at your fluttering cunt was making you dizzy. You were hyper aware of how rough his facial hair felt on your raw skin, a stark contrast to how soft his tongue felt on your folds. The muscles in your stomach began to clench as you felt yourself rocketing towards your second orgasm.

Joel felt you twitch under his forearm and knew you were close. He pressed his face further into you, thrusting his hips into the mattress to find some relief while he sucked and nibbled on your swollen clit, your moans morphing into high pitched cries, fingers frantically grasping and slipping through his curls.

Your back arched off the bed, tears trickling down your cheeks as you fell over the edge, your body jerking underneath him while you screamed his name. His hands clutched your legs, trying to keep himself attached as he worked you through it.

He finally pulled back with a gasp when you managed to writhe away, desperate to give your trembling body a break, completely overwhelmed. You each panted for breath as you stared at one another for a moment, your legs still shaking from the aftershock.

"Christ, Joel," you rasped, your voice hoarse as you wiped your tears away with the back of your hand.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he said, running a hand through his hair before wiping his mouth, his gaze softening as he took in your wrecked state. "Can't get enough of you."

"I can see that," you teased, the corners of your mouth turning upwards into a smirk. Your eyes flicked down to his pants, noticing his cock straining painfully against the denim. "Come here," you whispered, beckoning him with your arms. He grinned and quickly pulled his shirt over his head before kicking off his boxers and jeans. He crawled up the bed slowly, hovering over your body. You ran your hands gently over his arms, sending a shiver down his spine, before grasping the back of his neck and pulling him down for a deep kiss. He moaned against your mouth, his lips gently massaging your own while his tongue gave you a taste of your arousal.

"Are you sure you can handle it?" he asked, looking down between your bodies where your hand was directing his cock to your entrance.

"We're gonna find out," you said with a sigh, feeling his thick head notch against you. He pushed forward and you gasped at the familiar sting of being stretched open. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he pressed on, slowing giving you every inch of him before bottoming out with a groan of relief.

"Fuck," he whispered, resting his forehead in the crook of your neck while he took a moment to just appreciate the feel of you. You wiggled your hips slightly underneath him to get more comfortable as your body relaxed and adjusted to his size.

"I'll never get tired of that feeling," you murmured into his hair.

"Hope not," he said, lifting his head up with a smirk. He held your gaze as he slowly dragged his cock in and out, in and out until your head tilted back and your eyes slid shut, your lips parted as you gasped softly each time he pushed back inside. He nibbled tenderly at your jaw, fucking you with deep, long strokes while your legs wrapped tightly around his waist, pulling him closer each time.

"God, you feel so good," you moaned, yanking his face up and kissing him messily, your fingertips digging into his skin. He kept up the slow pace, savoring the feeling of just being close and intimate, while each powerful thrust caused tip of his cock to make contact with the most sensitive spot inside you, stoking the flames and pushing you to the edge.

"Fuck, I love you so fuckin' much, you know that?" he gasped, his lips hovering above your open mouth as he gazed down at you, watching your eyes glaze over with each slow drag, in and out. "D'you - shit - d'you see what you do to me? Huh?" He gripped your jaw when he saw your eyes begin to flutter close, fingers pressing into the soft flesh of your cheeks. "Look at me, sweetheart. Need you to look at me," he begged, his climax quickly approaching but he refused to pick up the pace, enjoying the slow way he was fucking you way too much.

"Yes," you whispered, forcing your eyes open to give him what he needed. He nodded, loosening his grip on your jaw and letting his hand fall limply. He looked down, watching as his cock disappeared inside you and coming back out, coated in your slick. He groaned at the sight and glanced back up at you, your gaze still transfixed on his face, just as he asked.

"Can't believe you're really mine," he muttered to himself in disbelief with a small shake of his head, his eyes roaming over your face and chest. "Can't believe I'm the one that gets to fuck you."

"I'm yours," you whimpered, biting down on your lower lip as you felt your body begin to tense up, like a band ready to snap.

"Yeah?" he asked hopefully, his wide eyes locking back onto yours. He knew you didn't mean it the way he wanted to hear it, that it was just something you said in the heat of the moment, but he didn't care. He allowed himself to have the fantasy, anyway.

"Just you, only you," you babbled, knowing exactly what he liked to hear. He clenched his jaw and took a deep breath, fucking into you a little faster now.

"Keep talkin', just like that," he said through gritted teeth, his arms wrapping around your ribs as his hips snapped into you, eliciting a low moan from your throat.

"N-nobody else, all y-yours, only want you," you rambled before the band snapped and your vision went spotty. You cried out and clenched down around him, the intensity of a third orgasm depleting all your energy and almost immediately, your muscles went slack.

"That's right, good girl," Joel said, watching you fall apart under him. "All mine. Mine - mine - mine!" he grunted, each word punctuated with a harsh thrust before pulling out just in time to come all over your stomach, watching in a daze as each burst of his hot spend coated your soft skin.

He collapsed next to you, both struggling to catch your breath. Your arm draped over your eyes and you contemplated falling asleep just like that, not even sure you had the strength to stand anyway. After a moment, he reached over to his nightstand to snatch up a handkerchief, and he gently cleaned you up as your breathing stabilized. Gingerly, he lifted your arm away from your face, brushing his thumb over your cheek, then your swollen lips before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"Wow," you whispered hoarsely, finally opening your eyes. He chuckled and nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, wow," he said, laying back down next to you. "That was somethin' else," he added, rubbing his palms roughly over his face.

You rolled onto your side, wincing at the soreness in your legs and hips already, and draped an arm across his body.

"Where did all that come from?" you asked sleepily, nuzzling your face into his chest. He shrugged.

"Don't know," he lied as he rubbed small circles across your back. You hummed, accepting his response without a second thought. His eyes drifted back over to the closet briefly before reaching over and turning off the light, tugging the sheets over your bodies and resuming the circles on your back until he heard your breathing slow, confirming you were asleep.

He stared in the dark at the ceiling, thinking about how and when he should ask you to marry him. He didn't want to take away from Tommy and Maria, so he figured he should put it off for a while, but that didn't stop him from closing his eyes that night and dreaming about what it would be like to be your husband.

Tag List: @chiogarza, @sparklejumpropequeen-777, @shotgun-shelby @partyofone3413 @nana90azevedo @ninaminaromina @untamedheart81 @taz-97 @nastiasnow - lmk if I missed anyone or if you want to be removed

[joelscruff]

(not a request, just wanted to share💗💗💗💗💗) I saw this on a prompt list “I wasn’t ready to say goodbye” and why is this so bfs dad joel and reader😢 my heart ughhhh

also yes to the glasses

words (boyfriend's dad!joel x f!reader) 18+

ik you said this wasn't a request, anon but this inspired me so much ;-; get ready for sadness. combining this with a request from @rrrrosie: Okay, boyfriends dad has been on my mind like crazy! Like I swear I’d just slip and tell him ‘I love you’. And he’d totally try and not say it back even if he wants to because he knows the situation they are in is so messed up. But omg he’s such a SAFE character. Idk Maybe this is a request?? Idk 😭

this fic is a direct sequel to "prove it". you can find the other fics in this series on my masterlist. and here's my kofi if you'd like to leave a tip!

summary: you and joel are left reeling from your boyfriend's discovery. rating: 18+ explicit (minors, do not interact) warnings: daddy!kink, oral (m receiving), praise kink word count: 2.2k

it's been a week since you last saw your boyfriend, since that moment in his car where you'd suspected he knew what was going on between you and his dad. it's been one long week of anxiety, worry, sadness, and now - acceptance.

joel hasn't texted you since that night and you have no idea if something happened, if your boyfriend went home and confronted him. you figured it might take a few days for them to sort out their issues, but a week? a week with complete radio silence? it's so uncharacteristic for them to be so distant, especially your boyfriend who you thought would've come back to give you a piece of his mind.

you've now accepted that things have changed. what exactly that change is, you don't know, but you're desperate to find out. the distance from your boyfriend has been welcome, even a relief, but the distance from joel...your heart aches just thinking about it. you want him to hold you again and tell you everything will be okay.

so when you show up on their front porch on a sunday afternoon you're not sure what to expect. you ring the doorbell and wait, biting your lip and fidgeting while you wait to see who'll greet you.

you feel warmth flood your chest when joel opens it, a soft smile spreading on his face when he sees it's you; he looks tired, like he hasn't slept properly in a few days, "hi."

you don't say anything, just rush forward and wrap your arms around him tightly, feeling tears already stinging in your eyes. it's been a whole week without seeing him and the emotions you feel are almost too much, all the worry you'd felt bubbling to the surface again as you bury your face in his neck.

"shhh, it's okay," he whispers, rubbing your back soothingly, "i'm sorry."

"joel," you whimper into his jacket, shutting your eyes tight and letting a sob wrack through you, "daddy."

he seems to stiffen under your touch at the name, and when you pull back to look at him you're beyond confused to see that he seems uncomfortable, grimacing a bit as he pulls out of your embrace. you feel your mouth downturn into a frown, tears spilling down your face.

"you don't want me to call you that anymore," it's a statement, not a question. you can sense the truth of it in his body language, in the way he looks at you now like he's about to break some awful news to you, "this is over, isn't it?"

he exhales deeply at the question, "come inside," he says softly, tugging on your arm and urging you to follow him, "let's talk."

nothing good can come from this.

you walk down the hall slowly, joel leading you with your hand in his as you reach the staircase and begin to climb. you assess the house a bit, looking around for any sign of your boyfriend.

"he's not here," joel says quietly, "he doesn't live here anymore."

you're not sure what to make of that, eyes still scanning the house once you reach the upstairs hallway. you and joel head for his office, a path you've crossed many times before but never in such a state of dread. something bad is going to happen, you can feel it.

you enter his office and settle on the couch, crossing your arms and watching him shut the door behind you. he doesn't bother to lock it; if what he said is true, your boyfriend won't be interrupting you this time.

"why can't i call you daddy?" you ask immediately, voice firm and serious, trying not to let the tears still flowing down your face completely betray you.

he sighs, squeezes the bridge of his nose under his glasses and walks over to you. he nudges you, quietly asking you to make room for him to sit beside you.

"a lot has happened," he says softly, reaching out to take your hand and squeezing it gently, "i just...i need to talk to you like an adult."

it's only then that you realize he hasn't used a single one of your pet names when he's spoken to you. no baby, babygirl, angel, nothing. it's almost like he's being too formal, like this is some kind of business transaction and not a real conversation.

"what happened?" you breathe, tears still streaming down your face, "what did he do? does he know?"

he almost laughs at your questions but without any humor, shaking his head slowly and reaching into his back pocket to show you his phone, "he looked at our messages."

your blood runs cold; you and joel haven't texted that much but your messages are more than enough proof for your boyfriend to have realized what was going on.

"oh god," you murmur, "so he...he knows knows."

"he knows you call me daddy, yeah," he says quietly, voice slightly rough with anger, "he said i was a sick man."

"you're not," you say immediately, shaking your head and inching forward a bit more on the couch, "joel, you're not. i want it just as much as you do, you know that."

"i know," he closes his eyes then, takes a deep breath, "anyway, he said he couldn't look at me the same anymore. said it made him sick to his stomach. not just because it was with you, it was everything as a whole," his mouth twists and you can hear raw emotion in his voice, "he moved out, i don't know where he went. i just hope he's alright."

"i don't give a fuck about him," you reply coldly, "i could care less."

"you're not his father," joel replies, shaking his head, "he's hurting, i hurt him."

"by doing what? so i call you daddy, so fucking what?" you feel anger begin to burn in your stomach, "yeah i cheated on him but that's on me, not you. you didn't do anything."

he pulls back from you, releasing your hand and standing up to walk over to his desk. you watch as he settles in the chair across from you and tilts his head back to look at the ceiling.

"it's wrong," he says, voice breaking at the words, "i know it feels good but it's wrong and it has to stop."

you look at him with an expression of pure disbelief, brow furrowing in sadness and confusion. he looks over at you once, just once, and you see he's fighting back tears just saying the words.

"you don't mean that and we both know it," you whisper, shaking your head, "this is more than some silly game we play together, you know that."

he takes a breath, leans forward and puts his head in his hands, "don't say that," he murmurs, voice muffled.

"we care about each other," you continue, standing up and walking over to the chair where he sits, "joel, why the fuck do you think i call you daddy? really?"

he slowly pulls his face up from his hands to look at you, tears swimming in his eyes, "don't," he breathes, "please."

"you're the only person in my life who's ever truly taken care of me," you kneel down so you're at his level, reaching forward to take both his hands in yours, "yeah you fuck me, you use me when i ask you to, but you protect me. you hold me. you listen to me and you kiss me and you mean it." you drop his hands and slowly ease your palms over his thighs, squeezing gently, "i feel so safe when i'm with you, joel."

you hear the low rumble of a groan in his throat as he looks down at you on your knees, thumbing his thighs. "what are you doin'?"

"just let me take care of you," you whisper, tears drying on your face as you reach forward to pop the button on his jeans, "please, joel. just this once and then i'll leave."

you can see the protests burning behind his lips but he doesn't say any of them. he watches as you pull down his zipper and take his cock out, already half hard. he'd said last time that he was always turned on by just seeing you, hugging you; it hadn't been a lie.

"just feel it, don't think," you whisper, then carefully wrap your lips around the tip of his cock.

he hums immediately, jaw going slack as he watches you swallow him down, already growing harder in the wet heat of your mouth. you feel his hands in your hair, pulling you closer as you slowly bob up and down. it's different this time; he's not the man who protects you and always gives you what you want. he's just joel, your ex boyfriend's father who deserves a quiet moment of pleasure for himself.

he whispers your name; not a pet name, your actual name. it's rare for either of you to just be completely yourselves in a moment like this. there's always been the added sexy addition of the power dynamic, the words that separate you both from being on the same level. but that's not what this is.

"just like that," he whispers, "fuck, that feels good."

he's fully hard now, the head of his cock bumping against the back of your throat. you do your best not to gag, holding him there and swallowing around him as his hips buck gently. you reach up and thumb the v of his hips, still half hidden by his underwear. your eyes are hooded and hazy but you can see his soft belly and his happy trail, all the parts of him you love most.

you pull off to take a few breaths, drool spilling down your chin as you slowly stoke him, looking up at him with a soft smile as he peers down at you. you lean forward and press a kiss to the fat head, lap up his precome and revel in the way he moans.

"tell me when you're close," you breathe, then take his full length in your mouth again and start to bob up and down a bit faster, nails digging lightly into his skin.

he holds your hair firmly, helps you move back and forth on his dick as you give him what he needs, "i love your mouth so much," you hear him groan softly, shakily, "you're so fucking perfect."

tears sting your eyes but you're not sure if it's from your actions or his words. either way you feel your throat tighten around him and he groans again, low and deep.

"gonna come," he warns you softly.

you nod but don't remove yourself from him, just take him as deep as you can and hum around his length, urging him on. it only takes a few more bobs of your head before his hand is tightening in your hair and he's coming in your mouth.

"fuck," he groans out, trembling beneath you.

you wait until he's stopped coming to slowly pull yourself from his cock. he looks down at you, looking more tired and sleepy than he had when he'd first opened the door for you. without him asking you to, you open your mouth and show him the thick globs of his come pooling on your tongue.

"swallow." he whispers.

you do as you're told.

there's a few moments of silence as you carefully slip him back inside his pants and do him back up. his hand stays glued to the back of your head, thumb stroking you gently back and forth as he watches you. he looks exhausted, it makes your heart ache.

"i still want you," you breathe, squeezing his thighs through his jeans again soothingly, "i'll always want you, daddy."

"i know, babygirl," he breathes, barely a whisper, "but you need to give me some time. please."

your grip on his thighs loosen as you peer up at him. he's looking at you with an expression you've never seen before, truly pained and full of sadness. it hurts to look at.

you feel yourself nod slowly, "okay," you whisper, voice shaky, "if that's what you want."

he doesn't say anything else, just watches as you ease up from the floor and walk over to his office door, turning back to give him one last glance before you leave.

"i love you," you whisper, soft and sincere, "but you already know that."

you shut the door behind you and shuffle quietly down the stairs. part of you still expects to hear sound effects from some game coming from your boyfriend's room, but there's nothing. you take a quick peek inside on your way to the front door, eyes widening when you see that the whole room has been cleared out. his gaming set-up is gone, his clothes, even his bed.

the emptiness makes you understand why joel is hurting.

just as you reach the front door you suddenly hear footsteps coming from behind you. you turn, surprised to see joel appear on the stairs.

"joel?" you ask softly, confused.

he walks toward you and fully embraces you in a tight hug, holding you close to him in the way you love most. you hug him back immediately without any hesitation, squeezing his body and making sure he feels just as safe and protected as you do.

"i wasn't ready to say goodbye," he whispers, still holding you tight.

you let him hold you for as long as he needs.

[doki-doki-imagines]

Okay so I'm NOT the anon who requested the lin keui trio +earthrealm defenders reaction to y/n asking them to eat pineapple to make their cum taste better.

But I'm about to be the non-anon that requests a follow-up of the lin keui trio +earthrealm defenders reaction to seeing y/n EATING pineapple right in front of them afterwards to make their(y/n's) cum taste better.

Or even just for your name to say "I had pineapple" and guage reaction.

Fun ask, last time. Fun answer, too! Thank you for writing it. No pressure on this ask, love your work!

author note: sequel of this. I don't think I should laugh so much doing these kind of hcs LMAO. Also thanks for your kind words!!

tw: vulgar language, some suggestive but nothing nsfw is described.

If you like what I write consider tipping on my ko-fi

Johnny Cage: -He would do the nose flick and smile from one ear to the other. -Johnny is so showing off, he just misses the peacock's tail being wide open and he would be perfect. -"You'd really do anything to be eaten out by me, mh?" He says trying to block the new smile by biting his lower lip "Amazing technique, right?" -Best advice: fuck the arrogance out of him. It won't work but at least it will be a fun time.

Kenshi Takahashi: -He…he can't see you. -Kenshi understands you are drinking something, but he really can't tell what's inside. -"I have been drinking pineapple juice lately." You say trying to sound as smooth as possible. "That's good, it has excellent anti-inflammatory properties." He replies kissing your forehead. -Kenshi knows from the moment the fruit name rolled out from your lips where things were going. -Did you try to tease him? Send him a message? Too bad, ask nicely or even better, beg. He won't give up for anything less.

Kung Lao: -He looks at you with such as big smirk… -"So, are you getting ready for later?" Lao whispers in your ear, hands sliding toward your backside. "Yeah, I have to meet with Raiden." -1HKO. -Seems only right to tease him back.

Raiden: -He stutters a bit when he sees you gulping down a cup of the juice. -"You don't have to exaggerate. I appreciate the feeling, but don't hurt yourself." He says before softly knocking your foreheads together. -This guy can be so overwhelmingly sweet.

Liu Kang: -He looks at you, sitting on the kitchen chair while you gulp a big glass of pineapple juice down, your back towards the stove. -"I know what you are doing. You are so silly" He chuckles "Bend." "What?" You reply unimpressed putting the now empty glass on the counter. -"Bend." Liu Kang says again, but his voice is full of mirth. "Or what?" You challenge him. -It all happens in a second. You bat your eyes and you feel his strong hands on your forearms pushing you around and bending you down. "Or I'll do it. Let's see if the juice benefits already worked on your body." -They did not. But if you knew challenging authorities was so fun you would have done that way earlier!

Geras: -"I appreciate the effort, it warms my heart knowing my partner would go to such an extent, but-" He pushes away the glass from your lips "There are different diets that have the same effect. I know you hate pineapple juice." "Geras, I love you." You choke a bit on your spit, hating the taste in your mouth. -He chuckles at your words "It's my pleasure." -Geras doesn't have to look at the future to know you'll never drink that ever again.

Bi-Han: -The scowl is permanent on his face, but this time he isn't angry. -There is a tiny voice in the back of his mind screaming "they would do anything for you, for your pleasure!" -Bi-Han basks on the idea that his partner is wrapped around his thick fingers. -If you don't make any mistakes during the day you'll receive your prize in the evening…

Kuai Liang: -Well he drank it with no problem so he doesn't mind if you do either. -May want to try that dumb thing of crossing glasses but he ends up being too forceful making juice go down more on your face than your mouth. -You laugh so Liang isn't worried. -"Your shirt is stained, it will be a mess if we don't clean it up. Let me help you remove it…" -The shirt was soon forgotten.

Tomas Vrbada: -"At my three we both drink. 1, 2, 3-" "W-Wait I have a better idea…" Look neither of you likes pineapple juice that much and this looks more like torture than anything else. -So…Tomas put a finger at the bottom of your glass, pushing it towards your lips to make you drink a sip. -And then he kisses you! Sucking your lips and therefore the juice out of your mouth. Tomas also spills his juice on your neck, licking it up while hands travel south. -Look he is doing it for the both of you! A new way to enjoy such a mid beverage! -The fact that he wanted to fuck you senseless since tomorrow morning is totally not correlated.

[thebiggerbear]

So Close

Summary: You meet Colter and Russell at the morgue to help them gain access. Had you known how this was really going to go, you might have pushed Colter's call to voicemail.

Pairing: Russell Shaw x Female!Reader; Russell Shaw x FBI!Female!Reader

A/N: I have zero idea what this is. My muse demanded I type this out after watching the morgue sneak peek scene and at this point, I'm giving her whatever she wants. I have never seen this show, know nothing about the characters and any relationships they may have or their background stories, only vaguely know what the premise is, and I'm waiting to see the episode like everyone else. And yet, the muse still put me to work. She can be so brutal sometimes.

I wouldn't call this speculation for 1x12 because I have no idea what's happened before it yet. Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine. Full text in italics is dialogue from the morgue scene.

Warnings: mention of dead body; angst

Word Count: 2096

Sequel | Series (please let me know if you would like to be tagged in the series or any future Russell or Tracker works)

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat

This work was recc'ed by @winchestergirl2 here.

You met Colter and Russell Shaw at the morgue, telling them that you were only doing this one small favor and that was it and only for Colter. Colter, as always, understood. Russell, not so much.

The older man turned to look at his younger brother. “I thought you said she’d be a big help to us on this one.”

Before Colter could answer, you narrowed your eyes in Russell’s direction. “I’m putting my job at risk helping you,” you snapped.

And still just as infuriating as ever, he gave you a smile, that teasing gleam in his eye. “It’s good to see you again, Y/N. You are looking…” He worked his fingers into the all-too familiar gesture of approval, giving you a glance over. 

“Go to hell, Shaw.” You spun on your heel and started marching towards the building. “Let’s go,” you barked. “We’re on a timeclock.” 

You never looked back to see if they were following you but you heard Colter mutter not too far behind you, “You mind not pissing her off until after we get to see the body?” 

“Yeah,” Russell quietly agreed, sounding far more serious than he had a moment ago. As a matter of fact, he sounded a little down, which made you wonder what was really going on. You already knew of the strain between the brothers so them working together was odd in itself but Colter hadn’t given you details when he called you and you hadn’t asked for them. You hoped this case they were working had nothing to do with anyone who Russell might… You forced away the thought and renewed your focus on the task at hand. You weren’t here for anything pertaining to that. You needed to keep your mind clear, and your eyes and ears open. 

Once you were all inside, you noticed an older woman sitting at the reception desk. You were about to walk in and pull your badge, ready to lie your ass off and give your official spiel when Russell held a hand up. “I got this,” he assured you both, before waltzing right in. You and Colter exchanged a look before following him.

The woman glanced up briefly and saw you all approaching before going back to her computer. “What can I help you with?”

“Hi, um…” Russell glanced down at her nametag as Colter moved to stand next to his brother, sporting a small smile. “Yolanda. Well, that is—that’s a beautiful name.” You slowly shook your head and crossed your arms. He was seriously going to try to charm his way in? Well, this ought to be fun to watch.

You weren’t surprised when she barely spared him a glance before going back to typing.

And of course, that didn’t deter him one bit. “Sadly, we, uh, we heard about Len Claimans. Recently deceased and, uh, we just need to see the body.”

That caught the woman’s attention as you expected it would. She immediately turned to face him and slipped her eye glasses onto her head. “What for?”

“How do you like working here?” You nearly smirked at the increased pitch in Russell’s voice, betraying his attempt at bullshitting and also a small case of nerves. It was almost as if he’d never lied before. Funny that. 

From Colter’s expression as he watched this trainwreck up close, he had to be thinking along the same lines as you, but more so wondering why this was even being attempted with you standing right there.

“Huh?” Russell continued. “I get a good vibe from you, you know. Kind eyes — helpful eyes, I like that.” You bit your lip to keep from saying something you shouldn’t. Russell had never been what you would call a good flirt, but he certainly was dialing up the charm to try to compensate. 

Too bad the charm didn’t seem to be working. Yolanda’s eyes immediately transferred to Colter. “What’s he talking about?”

Colter shook his head and turned to look at her. “The body might be connected to the disappearance of another man,” he explained. You noticed Russell glancing back at you out of the corner of his eye and you arched an inquisitive brow in his direction which made him immediately focus on Yolanda again, nodding along as his brother talked.

“Oh.” Yolanda looked regretful for a moment before going back to her computer. “I’m sorry, but unless you’re family, I can’t let you back there.”

Knowing this was the point Colter needed your intercession, you began to step forward but immediately froze when Russell snapped his fingers and spoke up. “I didn’t mention.” He gestured between him and Colter, giving Yolanda a smug grin, almost as if he had finally found the ruse that would work. “Cousins.” 

If you could have facepalmed right there without anyone seeing you, you would have. Wow. How was he so bad at this? And why didn’t he just let you do the talking? Or his brother for that matter?

Yolanda huffed out a breath of impatience. She was clearly done with this conversation and quite frankly, so were you.

Russell suddenly leaned forward. “We just-we just need a minute. Or two, you know? I promise we won’t disrupt a thing and then afterwards, maybe, uh, go grab a drink or, uh, somethin’ somethin’.” This time, you did briefly cover your face with your hand. This was just beyond embarrassing. Why did you agree to help these two again?

You could not believe what you were hearing and neither could Colter. You watched as he stared at his older brother before he decided to give it one last ditch effort and played along, turning a strained smile onto the woman.

And as expected, Yolanda finally reached her limit. “No. Sorry.” She got up from her chair and walked away.

Russell let out a disappointed breath. “That was so close.”

“No,” Colter rightfully disagreed.

You’d now reached your limit as well. Stepping forward, you loudly cleared your throat and came to a stop next to Russell. Yolanda turned to look at you, wondering what was coming next from the circus act that had apparently decided to roll into her office this afternoon. You gave her your best professional smile. “Hi there. I’m Special Agent Y/L/N with the FBI.” You slipped out your badge and held it up for her to see before putting it back into your pocket. “My associates here are correct. We’re currently investigating a missing persons case that may be connected to Mr. Claimans’ death. I’m going to need to take a look at the body as well as the autopsy report.”

Yolanda, clearly not believing anything you were selling today, stared over at you, unimpressed. “Do you have a warrant?”

“I can have one sent over to you in the next hour,” you lied. “But right now, we’re on a bit of a timeclock as I’m sure you can imagine.”

She glanced between you three, thinking it over. Russell and Colter looked back and forth between you two.

“Let me see that badge again.”

You grabbed it and handed it to her as she walked over. She studied it and then gave it back to you after a moment. “Ten minutes,” she decided. Both of you ignored Russell’s little smack to the counter and triumphant grin mixed with a quiet “I knew I liked you” in Yolanda’s direction. 

She looked bored. “That’s all I can give you.”

You gave her a nod of gratitude. “That’ll be plenty. Thank you.” 

She nodded and passed next to you to lead the way. You glanced in Colter’s direction and he nodded his thanks. Russell turned to you, his grin all but gone now, the serious tone from before back. “Thank you,” he murmured.

“Sure.” He gave you the beginnings of a grateful smile, his gaze never leaving yours. You could feel yourself being sucked in, almost as if there was a strong magnetic force trying to pull you back in. There was so much going on behind those eyes that looked almost as if they were pleading with you for something — something that you weren’t entirely sure you were ready to give. You were still putting yourself back together, trying to repair the damage that his chaotic whirlwind had caused.

Colter quietly cleared his throat and it shattered the moment, and for that you were grateful. Especially when you noticed Russell had been discreetly moving closer to you. You moved away a bit, making Russell’s jaw tighten and his eyes harden, and started after Yolanda. “We should go,” you told Colter, happy to look upon him once again while you regained your bearings. “We’ve only got ten minutes and I really don’t need an ass chewing from my supervisor because your brother has no game.” 

Colter smirked and followed after you. Russell’s jaw dropped and he appeared alongside you once more, keeping pace with you. “I have game!”

“No, you don’t,” you snorted, keeping your eyes straight ahead, unwilling to look at him.

“Yes, I do. It worked on you once upon a time, didn’t it?”

You leveled a menacing glare on him before turning to look at Colter on your other side. “Why did you ask me to help you again?”

Colter pressed his lips together and decided to keep quiet, focusing on waiting for Yolanda to open the door to the morgue. “I appreciate everything you’re doing.”

Russell leaned closer and murmured to you, “I do, too. And Y/N, after we get out of here, why don’t we go grab that drink I talked about? Just you and me? We can talk and catch up.” You turned your wide eyes onto him. Was he serious? He shot you a charming grin but you could also see the tiny gleam of hope in his gaze.

You ignored the familiar scent of his cologne as it wafted over you and you tamped down the painful memories it induced.

Colter looked like he would rather be anywhere else right then. You wished you were anywhere else right then. You turned your eyes forward, refusing to look at him anymore, not wanting to see any part of his reaction to what you were about to say. “You’re both on a timeclock, remember?” You asked quietly. “After we get what we need, you should go to the spot that's next on your list or immediately chase down any leads. As for me, I have to get back to work.”  You then surged ahead, standing right behind Yolanda and stepping into the room when she opened the door.

After a moment, you heard the brothers enter behind you and Colter muttered to Russell, “You good?”

“Yeah.” You nearly closed your eyes hearing that tone that you were starting to hate once more. “So close.” This time, when he echoed the words from before, there was no false bravado attached to them, no playfulness or humor, only what you detected as regret. 

This time, Colter didn’t say anything in response. Both brothers joined you and you all watched as Yolanda selected a drawer and slid it out. Feeling Russell next to you, you swore to yourself that this would be the last time you would take a call from Colter for a long time. While you liked the younger Shaw, it was the older Shaw you didn’t want to chance running into ever again. 

You stared ahead as Yolanda unzipped the body bag, tensing as you felt the sleeve of Russell’s jacket unintentionally brush against you. So close? Too close.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Russell watching you intently, his expression serious and that regretful look in his eyes once more. You forced your gaze back to the woman reminding you of your ten minute window, refusing to allow any sympathy for the older man on your left. You hadn’t been the one to ruin things between you; you’d only been left to pick up the pieces. You were done feeling sorry for Russell Shaw. 

You took the report Yolanda offered to you before she left and began flipping through it, skimming the text, as Colter took a closer look at the body. From your peripherals, Russell stared at you a moment longer and then moved to stand next to his brother, their backs to you. Sadly, a familiar sight of the man you’d once loved. You blinked away rapidly forming tears and went back to reading.

As much as you hated to admit it, Russell had been right. So close indeed.

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[brucewaynehater101]

So there's a fic that I think you will like. It's called The Definition of Valor by Nerdpoe. Really short, spoiler free summery. Instead of loosing his Spleen, Tim looses his eyes. He makes special gadgets to help him with this, such as a device in is cowl that scans the room he is in and tells him what is where via coded sounds, like say, two low A notes followed by a chirp means there is a wooden desk to the north east of him. He also makes a special computer program for his grapple so when he points it somewhere, it will adjust his aim so he never misses and always attaches to a good spot.

This fic is giving me *so many* thoughts about the potential fall out of this being found out not as soon as Tim gets back to Gothem because he never tells anyone. Specifically it's making me think about Tim who is Bruce's dad not telling Bruce because he doesn't want to worry his son. He doesn't want to worry his grandchildren/siblings either so he puts in colored contacts and wears glasses when his cowl isn't on. The glasses and an ear piece have the same tech as his cowl to tell him where everything is.

How long would it take them to find out? Tim would never tell them, so do they find out on accident because Tim forgot the contacts that are his normal eye color, or because Ras is mad at Tim and tells them what Ras did to Tim? Maybe he got to mad and while ranting at a Rouge (either Harley or Two Face would be especially funny if he's just been hanging upside down and ranting and raving fo 30 minuets already) over one of their traps, he accidentally lets slip that he's blind, or maybe he yells at Riddler, "Nygma, this isn't fair! I've been completely blind since last July and my usual tech that tells me what's around me is getting fucked by your signal jammer! So either read the riddle to me out loud or let me go!" and then later Riddler scolds one of the other Bats for letting the blind one do the visual puzzles much to their confusion.

Hi!!! I love that fic so much! Have you seen the sequel for it as well? It's short, but a great read. I would die for more of this concept.

In that fic, Bruce turns out to be a good dad. While I may hate Bruce, the way that guy handles the situation in that fic is fantastic.

However, I would like a fic where this concept gets a delayed reveal. In the AU, Tim figures out how to function without his eyes.

He engineers technology to read people's facial expression/body language to help him out. It reads words for him, etc.

I wonder what excuse he'd give for wearing the earpiece and glasses all the time. Maybe he says it's another aspect to separate Timothy Drake from Red Robin?

Just Tim gaslighting and girlbossing his way into pretending he can still see. I kind of want him to keep up the ruse for a long while.

When he does get found it, it'd be hilarious if the others forget he's blind. Tim has engineered technology to assist him, but he still can't see. So they'll try to take him to activities they did together when he could see (like star gazing) or they'll ask him what he thinks of the color of their outfit. He also ruthlessly uses his blindness as an excuse to mess with people. If Timothy Drake-Wayne is known to be blind, he'll use it to accuse Luthor of being ableist at every chance he'll get. He also bullies the shit out of governmental agents and companies that don't provide accommodations.

I'm also a fan of Riddler finding out about it, but him just changing his puzzles to be accommodating. I'm biased towards Riddler (I love him so much) so it'd be cool to see the silent show of support like that.

Another AU idea: When Tim blows up Ra's bases, the explosions cause him to become deaf or hard-of-hearing.

Dealer's choice on how much hearing he loses, but I feel like this could be great to explore deafness and misconceptions commonly held in our society.

Tim would probably already know how to sign and lip read (might even know multiple different sign languages), but he would face a few difficulties.

He chooses not to disclose his hearing loss

People often cover their mouths or face away from someone when speaking (which makes lip reading arduous)

Ableist people suck

The world is set up for hearing people, so a lot of issues stem from a lack of accommodations rather than Tim's ability to hear

Tim chose not to tell anyone about the change in hearing for a few reasons: he doesn't trust anyone (especially during his adjustment period) and he doesn't want to be underestimated (wants to prove himself in the field before they try to pull him from it).

As far as technology to help him, the comms were easier to program than other auditory inputs. Since they were designed to transmit clear voices, he merely has to train a program to automatically close caption whatever is spoken (the automatic ones used today are useful, but still make too many errors for Tim's preference. Some also only do words automatically and leave out helpful information like laughing, choking, screaming, computer dings, etc.). Each Bat member has their own designated color. For those he doesn't interact with often, it says their name before every time they speak up.

Tim incorporates the visual overlay into his goggles and glasses. He can read what people contribute to the conversation based on that. It also leaves his hands free so he doesn't need to look down. His wrist computer stores records of what has been said so Tim can go back over it if he misses it. He also has the ability to change where the words appear on his field of vision.

I also hc Alfred is the first to notice that Tim is staring intently at his lips when he talks and has difficulties with the conversation when Alfred changes the way he pronounces words or isn't facing Tim (this is before Tim's tech gets perfected). From then on, Alfred makes a point of facing Tim whenever the teen is in the room. They both don't talk about it until the rest of the family finds out (however long that takes).

Feel free to add more to either AU!

[nomazee]

keep my blankets warm and my name in your mouth

after a night of soaring through belobog's liquor, you finally face the consequences of it on the floor of your hotel room. thankfully, dan heng has experience with taking care of idiots (i.e. you)

dan heng x gn reader — drunkenness, sweet and sappy and sarcastic, dan heng is probably ooc, reader is trailblazer but this is set vaguely in canon & lore doesn't matter, stupid people who love each other but never say it, are they dating or are they toeing the line of cohabitation in the middle of a hotel room?

sequel here

notes: oh gawsh hey guys... yeah yeah it's been forever since i posted but i giggled at all the requests i miss and then instead of doing those i wrote this, but TRUST i am getting back to all of you in a timely manner i love you all thank you so much for sticking with me, i'm coming out with a follower event once i hit 1k (soon) so be excited! love you guys and enjoy

—°+..｡*ﾟ｡*ﾟ+.*.｡.—

Dan Heng is an awful caretaker, really, and you should’ve known this because of his deadpan and often awkward nature. It just never really occurred to you until he’s truly saddled with taking care of a living, breathing thing—i.e., you, drunk and vomiting into a trash can after a spree through Belobog’s bars. 

In your defense, having no memories means having no experiences to your name (other than everything you’ve been through on the Express so far, which is maybe more near-death experiences than you’d like to have), and you heard that being drunk was just something everybody experiences at least once. 

Then, Pela texted you that one time asking for quick tips to sober up, and it dawned on you that you don't even know what that feels like, and then—who cares, really, you don’t have half a mind to think of your tragic pre-drunk backstory when you’re trying not to die of embarrassment as Dan Heng maneuvers you in a way that won’t get vomit on your clothes. 

The cold tiles of the Goethe Hotel en suite bathroom aren’t enough to bring you to full awareness, so you let Dan Heng ragdoll you into kneeling over the trash can and pull any dangling accessories away from your, um, line of fire. 

“Why would you guys let me do this?!” you wail in disbelief, trying to hold back a mouthful of bile but ultimately failing as you cough into the bin again. You’re truly betrayed at the thought that your closest friends wouldn’t warn you of things like alcohol poisoning, and pacing yourself, and how many drinks is too many drinks. 

“I didn't let you do anything,” your friend retorts, because he’s evil and mean and awful at comforting you, “I told you it would be a bad idea. You’re the one that still went out.” 

“Did I puke in front of everyone?” 

Dan Heng pauses, which is always a bad sign. It means he’s thinking, really thinking about what to say. “At the very least, you puked in the snow and not inside the restaurant.” 

A desperate wailing noise escapes you yet again. Life is cruel, and Dan Heng is crueler. He should’ve told a sweet little white lie and you would’ve been none the wiser and a lot less mortified. “Himeko laughed so hard when we found you that Welt had to make her leave.” 

“Just kill me,” you whisper into the trash can, full of your hopes and dreams and the remnants of your dinner and drinks. “I can’t go back to the Express. Execute me and give me a gentle death.” 

“No need to be dramatic,” he says, annunciating his words in that odd little way he does, and it makes you want to kiss him and read a dictionary to you, cover to cover. “You need to drink water, and then brush your teeth. I don’t trust you showering right now so you have to wait until the morning.” 

“Oh, Dan Heng,” you keen, with the grief of a spouse watching their partner go off to war, “you don’t even want to wash my hair for me?! You just think I’m— I’m a drunken slob!” 

“Be quiet,” he commands through his teeth, embarrassment warming him up—you can feel it, the way the tips of his fingers go a little bit warm from where they rest on your shoulder and the side of your face. “You— I don’t think that. You need to brush your teeth.” 

You definitely are not brushing your teeth tonight. You tell Dan Heng as much but he just rolls his eyes and compromises with a travel-sized bottle of mouthwash that he pulls from the cabinet under the sink. He’s so prepared. Or maybe that’s just the hotel staff. Regardless. 

You rinse your mouth out once you’re fine enough to let Dan Heng pull you up to your feet and rest you against the counter of the sink. He has to remind you multiple times to not swallow the mouthwash, and you bat at him childishly for thinking you’d ever do such a thing—except, you definitely would have drinken down an entire mouthful if he didn't say anything. You can’t bear to look at your reflection in the mirror. You just pray to whatever Aeon is listening that there’s no awful stains on your clothes, and that you don’t smell so terrible that Dan Heng goes running the minute he lets go of your arm. 

“Where’s March?” you whine out as he leads you from the bathroom to the main hotel room, trying to gently set you down on your bed but giving up once you immediately fall into it like an ungraceful rock. “She would be so much nicer. You’re mean. Do I smell bad?” 

“I’m not mean,” he tells you, sure of himself and the twist of his mouth as he avoids looking you right in the eyes. “You don’t smell. You need to go to bed. And lay on your side.” Petulantly, and not without some kicks of your legs and flails of your arms, you find yourself situated under the sheets of the hotel bed, sock somehow off your feet now as Dan Heng pulls the blankets right up to your shoulders. 

“I’m on my side now. Do I get a reward?”

“Why would you need a reward?” 

A disgruntled tsk escapes you and you look up at Dan Heng with an exasperated expression. It’s pitiful enough to guilt him into kneeling down beside your bed so that he’s at eye level with you. “Because I went through so much tonight,” you slur out, words starting to mix with each other as a result of your remaining drunkenness and the exhaustion of the night hitting you. “I’ll take a, um— a gold star, or something.” 

“I can give you a cup of water in the morning.” 

Another dreadful wail escapes you. You’ve never faced evil more potent than Dan Heng, and by the stupid twinge of a smile on his face, he knows what he’s doing. You hate how endearing he is, and how he dangles little treasures like this in front of you. You’re brought back to the heat of his fingers from earlier, the gentle touches he left on your shoulders as he let you puke your guts out without even flinching. As much as you joke, you know Dan Heng’s kindness comes from a lack of evil. Comes from a supporting weight against your arms, comes from travel-size mouthwash, comes from staying in your hotel room until you fall asleep and double-checking that you’re on your side. 

In the morning, you’ll take the cup of water, and you’ll take him out for breakfast, too.

—°+..｡*ﾟ｡*ﾟ+.*.｡.—

[thought--bubble]

She Brings The Darkness Pt. 2/2

Michael Gavey X (Goth Classmate Reader)

Warnings Below

Word Count: 1869

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Banners & Dividers by @arcielee

A/N: This was the winner of the 300 followers vote! Sorry it took so long! I hope you enjoy! It was fun to see what you all wanted more of. Plus my bad for not getting this out before starting the next vote LMAO the timing was weird.

This is the sequel to THIS

Warnings: Swearing, Unprotected PinV Sex, Oral female Receiving. a little bit subby Michael, Whining Michael, Whimpering Michael.

Since your little rendezvous in the library, things had gone back to normal. You were yet again invisible, and Michael avoided looking at you at all costs.

You fight with yourself constantly. You had wanted Michael to leave you alone. That was the entire point, but now that he was, it was driving you crazy.

You find yourself seeking him out, in the library, the courtyard anywhere, really. Boring holes into the side of his head or back of his head willing him to look at you, yet he never does.

"Why am I like this?" You huff to yourself after yet again staring at Michael as he walked through the courtyard. "I am actually chasing Michael fucking Gavey" You rub your hands over your eyes and sigh.

Yet when your feet start moving again, they follow the path set forth by Michael. You can't seem to stop yourself from seeking him out.

When you round the corner, you smash directly into the cause of your ire.

"Why are you following me?" He asks sharply. "I was under the impression we came to an agreement."

You stare back at him speechless. He's right. What do you even say in this situation?

"I .... I ... ummm, " You scramble for words inside your head, but any sensical excuse seems to allude you.

Michael smirks as you stammer. "You don't want me to leave you alone now, do you?" He steps closer to you and tilts his head, trying to get a good look at your eyes. The eyes that were currently avoiding him.

"Hmmmm... seems I may have you hooked. " He chuckles.

Cockyness doesn't suit him, you think, or maybe it does?

"No. I'm not hooked on anything!" You protest with a little too much enthusiasm.

He lifts his eyebrows and smiles. "I've seen you outside of my dorm. Clearly, you know where it is. Meet me there tonight." Michael turns from you and walks away quickly out of sight as you stand there bewildered.

What the fuck just happened?

Michael walks away from you with a cocky stride, yet the moment he is out of view, he wipes his palms on his trousers and shudders.

"What am I to do if she actually shows up?"

The whole thing was his brother's idea. He had called him explaining what had happened between the two of you in the library and your subsequent behavior.

"She wants the dick Michael" His brother had said while laughing. "Give it to her."

It all seemed so easy when talking about it jovially on the phone but actually going through with it? That is an entirely different matter.

Michael was no virgin, thanks to the kindness of a sweet girl at his secondary school who wanted to get back at her cheating boyfriend, but he was far from experienced.

He had gone out and purchased condoms. Cleaned his dormroom and knew his roommate would be out tonight.

Everything is in place. Now he just has to wait and see if you actually show up.

Back in your dorm, you are in turmoil. Do you go?

You decide to go and convince yourself it is for one reason. To get the power back. Somehow, the power has shifted to Michael, and you can't have that.

So you rummage around your closet. The outfit needs to be sexier than last time. You don't want him to sweat, you want him to pass the fuck out. Forget maths. Something extreme. Something to tip the power back into your hands.

You pull out a red and black pleated miniskirt to match the red lacey bra and thong you already chose. With a silky red corset top.

This should do it. You choose a pair of black fishnet thigh highs with little red bows on the bands and strap up your docs.

You fix yourself up in the mirror and giggle, "Michael Gavey prepare to grovel."

You arrive outside his dorm room and stop at the door.

"Knock." You tell yourself, yet your hand doesn't move. "Fuckin knock!"

The door opens, and Michael looks at you with a curious expression and a half smile. "Having trouble then?" He opens the door wider to let you in.

You grit your teeth. Embarrassing yourself before you even stepped foot in the room was not part of the game plan.

"Michael." You turn to look at him attempting to put on your most seductive face.

He falters briefly, swallowing loudly before righting himself and falling back into the cocky boy persona.

It's a battle of wills.

"So why did you want me to come here?" You play with the collar of his shirt, bringing your fingers dangerously close to his neck. You can see the goosebumps cross his skin, but he plays it off so well.

"So we can discuss the ....... situation we have going on. " You cringe as he uses the same words you used in the library. This is as much a game of wits as it is wills, and you may be outmatched.

When he looks at you with another cocky smirk, a smirk that says, "I win." You decided to go with your last move. Your fatality move.

You move toward Michael, quickly wrap your hand around the back of his neck and pull his face towards yours, kissing him harshly. He freezes for just a moment before he starts to kiss you back, the mashing of tongues and lips messy and arousing.

This was not the plan. It was better than the plan. You push him back by the shoulders toward his bed. You know if you get him on that bed with you on top, you have him. He will melt just like last time.

He allows you to push him back on the bed, wrapping his arm around your back to pull you down with him. Your lips staying connected.

You crawl up onto him, placing your thighs on either side of his hips. He pulls back briefly and chuckles before gripping your back tightly and rolling you both over, pinning you beneath him.

"Not this time" He growls before he bites into your neck pressing his hardening cock up against your heat only his trousers and your thong separating the two.

You gasp as you feel his teeth tugging at the sensitive skin of your neck, ripples of pleasure traveling down your spine.

"Fuck Michael" You moan the words overwhelmed by the shock of his aggression and the pleasure he is making you feel.

"I got more," He mumbles as he starts kissing down onto your chest, unclasping the hooks on the corset. He gazes down at your half-naked form with a gleam in his eye. "So this is what you've been hiding under all those baggy clothes"

As he makes his way down to your skirt, you lift up your hips. "No, this we are gonna keep on." He pushes your hips back down onto the bed and pushes your skirt up.

You feel heat pooling in your stomach, traveling down to your core. How are you this turned on by Michael fucking Gavey?

He pushes your thighs apart and looks at your cunt. "Fucking brilliant" Is all he says before he shoves his head between your legs pulling your thong to the side and lapping directly at your clit.

"Oh fuck!" You whine at the sudden sensation.

He reacts to your whines with moans of his own as he continues to lick and suck at your pearl. Your hands travel down to his head gripping his hair and rutting your pussy against his face.

It feels too good and you need more pressure. You're sure you are suffocating him, but you don't care.

"Just like that, just like that." You whimper your legs, clamping around his head. "Fuck, right there, right there!" You arch your back as your climax tears through you, Michael continuing to lap at your folds as you ride out your high.

"Too much, too much." You whine afterward, pushing his head away.

He stands up a little dazed, face glistening with the proof of your arousal.

"Come here." You gesture for him to again join you on the bed, and he quickly obliges, crawling onto your body and slotting himself between your thighs.

When he brings his lips back down upon yours, you can taste yourself, and it only serves to increase your arousal. "Take those off," you whisper, tugging at the waistband of his trousers.

He quickly shuffles them off before turning to pull a box of condoms out of his bedside drawer.

"I'm clean and on birth control." You pull him back towards you. "Let me feel you."

He speechlessly nods at you, eyes half lidded, like he's in a trance.

You spread your legs wider for him.

"Fuck I... I really didn't expect it to get this far" he mutters more to himself than to you.

You can't help but giggle before grabbing him by the shirt and pulling him towards you. "Hurry up and fuck me Michael Gavey"

"uhhh .... yeah..... fuck yeah" He leans forward again nipping at the skin of your neck before pressing the head of his cock against your entrance.

"Fucccccccck," He moans as he starts to push into you, feeling the warmth and wetness surround him.

You grip his hips, pulling him forward, digging your nails into his soft, tender flesh.

"I said fuck me Michael." You growl biting down harshly on his bottom lip.

"Yes," He whimpers as he starts to rut into you, quickening his pace. "So good... so good, " He mumbles into the crook of your neck.

You feel the heat start to pool in the base of your stomach and dig your nails into his back. "Harder Michael" You demand.

He ruts into you harder and whines. "Oh god, oh god"

You feel him batter the spongey spot inside of you and arch your back, the sensation nearly sending you over the edge. "Faster"

"Oh shit, oh shit." He moves faster, and his legs start to tremble at the sheer force he is using. "I'm not gonna make it, fuck I-" He groans loudly. "Oh God"

"Not yet, Michael. Don't you dare." You dig your nails into the skin of his shoulder. "You cum when I say so"

He nods furiously. "Yes, yes, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He pants heavily and whines into the crook of your neck.

You clench your legs tightly around him as you are overcome by your climax. "Fuckkkk, good boy!"

"Please, please." He pants and whimpers.

"Just a little longer." You pull his face towards you and gently kiss him as he whimpers into your mouth. You smile at the thought that you were able to get the power back.

"Cum Michael, you can cum now"

He yells out as he grips your hips tightly rutting into you roughly a few more times before his entire body stiffens and he gasps. "Thank you, Thank you"

He collapses on top of you resting his forehead against your chest, as you stroke his hair.

"Shhh Michael, shh," you coo as he pants into your chest.

"You're mine now"

To be added to taglists please click HERE

[sinner-sunflower]

A HH Lucifer-centric AU 1/22

PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 5, PART 6, PART 7, PART 8, PART 9, PART 10, PART 11, PART 12, PART 13, PART 14, PART 15, PART 16, PART 17, PART 18, PART 19, PART 20, PART 21, PART 22

STORY 2 - Sequel

HOOK: A LUCIFER CENTRIC AU - AO3

Some RadioApple undertones perhaps.

Another idea popped up but I still can't write fully alksjdakljl

I swear this has more plot to it. It will involve the Sins, Luci's siblings, and overlords.

Big idea. Little vocab.

Will link a part 2 when I post it!

--------------

The Hazbin Hotel residents stare in fear as the young Morningstar is having an ugly, one-sided, verbal match with her father.

It has been a stressful day and Charlie was on a short fuse. Vaggie tried to coax her girlfriend to relax but it didn't work. The other residents, minus Alastor, were too afraid to try because if Vaggie couldn't, how could they.

Lucifer was up on his tower when he was called downstairs to get his daughter to calm down but it just made him the primary target for her frustrations.

Charlie: Dad! Stop! I don't need this. I. Am. Fine.

Lucifer: Sweetie, you clearly aren't. Why don't you take a nap? I know that always helped you to calm down.

Charlie: Know?! Tell me, Dad. What exactly do you know about me after not being present in my life for decades??

Lucifer, stunned: Char-char-

Charlie: Don't call me that!

Vaggie: Charlie, I think-

Charlie: I wish it was you who had just got up and disappeared instead of Mom. At least she would've been there for me from the start!

There was a small gasp from Angel but no one dared to make a sound. What can they even say to that? All that can be heard is Charlie's labored breathing.

Lucifer's eyes narrow and his heart breaks a little (liar, the whole just shattered) but he doesn’t say anything. His shoulders slump, eyes void as his gaze never leaves his daughter.

Charlie seems to realize what she had just said and opens her mouth to say something but nothing comes out.

Lucifer: Of course

The King of Hell says it slowly, almost like he's drunk. (But he can't get drunk. Believe him, he tried. He tried multiple times to drink himself to-

Lucifer: But you're exhausted and I'm sure Alastor can pick up where you left off. Go sleep.

The King gives a strained smile to the group then promptly goes back upstairs.

Once he's gone. Charlie moves to follow but is stopped by Alastor blocking her way.

Alastor: I wouldn't try that, my dear. I suggest you listen to your father and rest. Separately.

Charlie: But-

Angel: Not a good time, toots. You fucked up.

And she did.

--------------

I love Charlie okay!!! I just like to think that the most cheerful ones always have the sharpest tongues when frustrated.

[mylonelydreaming]

I take issue with this idea of Link just "fucking off" and leaving Zelda completely alone before totk. Not even in just a shipping sort of way either, as close friends and him choosing to remain her knight, that makes zero logical sense? It is completely out of character for him?

Link doesn't ever leave Zelda's side. This is canon. "Fucking off" is just not something he does during peace time when he isn't on a heroic quest and being controlled by the player's whims

That's five times it's stated officially somewhere that he is by her side, and that's only the ones I can immediately recall. Botw's full ending and totk's opening together also show us that. We see them together when the story ends and we see them together when it picks back up in the sequel. At no point is it implied they ever parted.

And can we just remember for a second what happens when he's not there, for even a short amount of time, if she is unable to call upon her abilities and therefore defend herself?:

"Fucking off" is a fantastic way to get her killed. The Yiga worship Ganon, there is nobody they want dead more (besides Link), than the last living member of the royal family. They are also not opposed at all to going into villages. They snuck into Kakariko to assassinate Dorian's wife. We just don't see that reflected in gameplay.

Some people will say "it's just his job" to deny they even have a friendship or growth as characters, but want him to... not do the main part of that? "It's just his job" and "he fucked off to the wilderness" are simply not compatible ideas. Either you think Link is just a completely duty-bound mindless command robot or you think he completely doesn't care anymore about that to the point of endangering the person he's supposed to protect. It can't be both at the same time.

Thankfully, it's implied by the wording of master works, the cutscenes and the jpn version that he wants to protect and support her. That this is what he desires, even when the king is dead and he is immediately given the option to not do so anymore. That he is motivated by wanting to see her happy and safe. I'm pretty sure the only way to get him to stop trying to protect her or following her is death, and he has already proven that twice over.

[catt-nuevenor]

The Future

Time to establish what's going to happen from this point forwards.

The vast majority of you have been exceptionally patient this last year, and for that you have my deepest thanks. You've given me the time to not only write a book, but edit it, and send it off to literary agents, something I would have long given up on doing without the continued support of those who enjoy my writing.

Now that the book is off doing the rounds independently, it's time I got back to Myrk Mire.

Originally Myrk Mire was built in ChoiceScript, a scripting language created by the Choice of Games company. Choice of Games control what is done with their script, understandably, they own it. This does pose some restrictions. I can't, for example, release any paid material built using ChoiceScript unless it is directly through their publishing label. If I do publish under their label, I maintain IP or Intellectual Property Rights, however I also grant them the exclusive rights under perpetual license to publish the multiple choice game 'electronically'.

Source: Choice of Games.com

As you can see from the outline above, they do make exceptions for stories published in non-competing formats, and for sequels, prequels, and spin-offs. However, traditional publishing houses might require stricter control over IP, distribution, and exclusivity. It will only become more and more complicated as things progress, and being locked into a perpetual license agreement of any nature is not a decision to make lightly.

As some of you may be sensing from the tone of all this so far, I'm going to be moving Myrk Mire away from Choice of Games and ChoiceScript, and into a new medium/format.

After tinkering, and trialling with a few alternatives, I've decided to go with Renpy. Renpy, while largely used for visual novel style games and stories, provides a very workable framework for interactive fiction, and is an Open Source script, it isn't beholden to publishing contracts, licence cost, or exclusivity.

I'm not going to be diving into transferring Myrk Mire right away, it's a huge piece of writing, in an entirely different scripting language, and as previously stated, there are a lot of changes I want to implement with the cast. Instead, I'm creating a trial story: One Háḟest Day. My Patrons have been aware of all this for about a month or so, and have already seen some previews.

One Háḟest Day takes place in Aldmirham before the events of Myrk Mire, around the time the Main Character and the Wanderers first arrived in town. The reader will have the choice to follow one of the romanceable characters through a single day, with opportunities to explore their lives and relationships before the Main Character and Child come along. I hope it will provide a proving ground for the changes that previously caused debate, and an opportunity for people to try out the new format and interface.

My plan is to distribute One Háḟest Day through Itch.io, working with their early access framework and voluntary payments for such as soon as one of the character routes is ready to play from beginning to end, updating regularly with the other characters as they too are completed, and with additional features as required. Once the full game is complete, I will release a separate full build with a set minimum price that can be discussed with the community as we move forwards.

At the second, I'm aiming for a web hosted format and a desktop/laptop downloadable format, with phone compatibility to come later down the line once things are stable.

I will post production updates and info when I can to tumblr, though a lot of what I'm doing now is very python coding heavy, so perhaps not that interesting?

I've included some screenshots below of very early development, featuring a Character Log and Word Log that I hope will allow readers to more easily navigate the story. I'm toying with the idea of having a Mysteries Log as well that will keep track of snippets of information gleaned from each character's route, but that can be a tinkering feature for now.

Let me know your thoughts, concerns, or excitement, though do keep all messages objective and polite.

[pokeberry5]

your tim is soooooooo beautiful i can’t stop looking at him 😍

do you have any good tim whump fic recs? like the classic comm cuts out when he’s in trouble or really anything

(thank you!! im glad u like my tim art)

(in reference to this, where i mentioned liking whump fics where tim ends up on the ropes alone and his comm cuts out)

i was digging through my reading history to try to find some recs and it seems??? i may have extrapolated fics based on what i wanted to read rip

i did still put some fic recs together! but these are slightly to the left of your original requests. i'm gonna put them in order of relevancy. broad warning to please read the tags on all of these

Little Pig, Little Pig, Let Me In by nierembergia

tim's on the line with damian when suddenly a harmless-seeming interaction at a gala turns sinister (wip)

buy the ticket, take the ride

wherein tim is attempting to deal with things on his own after finding himself alone in vegas, at some point calls jason to "consult" him about blood spatters, and then has to hang up on him because he's getting shot at

the days of theft (no more) by SilverSkiesAtMidnight

gen omegaverse, jason takes tim and in the process snaps the bond between bruce and tim. including this one because the pack bond snapping between bruce and tim has, to me, the same emotional impact of a comm getting caught (wip)

Into the Brighter Night by shoalsea

the set up of this fic is tim manipulating the bats into following a plan he misrepresented and then purposefully going dark, although the majority of the fic deals with the interpersonal fallout of tim's actions (complete)

children of the stars by Scarlet_Ribbons

jason takes tim in because jack drake's a piece of shit and ends up doing his own growing in the process. not sure how to explain why i'm including this without spoiling it, but there is a Big Moment later in the fic that to me is equivalent to tim purposely cutting his comms off to deal with a situation himself (wip)

Call to a Lonely Earth by Drag0nst0rm

in the midst of brucequest, tim ends up on an earth where there are no longer any children and bruce has lost both his sons. i'm mostly including this one because i like it a lot, but—mild spoiler—tim does make a call explaining what he presents as a hopeless situation that he can't be saved from and then hangs up! (first fic is complete but sequel isn't)

also, while it doesn't quite have the same emotional force of what i was looking for, detective comics (1940) #698-99 is where i originally got the idea from and it does feature protective dick and alvin draper!