#need to make a side blog for cars and my wife

[audi0visual]

I wonder how much official drive merch there is. anybody know? anybody more hyperfix-y than me who has a list...I must BRING pookie HOME...with ME...

aka: I got a ita bag. and my irl best pookie @sukusweetsb sent me a driver shirt and I squealed

[sugrhigh]

FAMILY TIES - ( m.s & c.s )

REQUESTED**

summary- you, matt, and chris go to a bruins game with the kids

warnings- none i don’t think!

girl dad!matt and boy dad!chris

a/n: i tried so hard to write this well and im still not sure if im satisfied, but i hope u enjoy!! kinda short but i think after this weeks podcast we all need a bit of fluff lol

@cutenote @rootbeerworshiper @bb-1s-blog @rileysturniolo @mbbsgf @sturnlova @angelworldspost @l9vesick @st7rnioiossblog

“it’s ridiculous that you always wear my clothes better than i do.” matt speaks, interrupting you as you stare at yourself in the full-length mirror.

you’re in one of his many bruins sweatshirts, which is a little too big for you so you have one side tucked into the pocket of your jeans.

you pad over to give him a quick kiss, hand pressed to his chest. “you still look very handsome.”

“thank you, babe.” he gives you a tiny pat on the ass, which still to this day makes your cheeks ignite.

your daughter, eve, comes flying around the corner into your bedroom moments later, almost running right into her dad. she’s all dressed up for the occasion too, clad in her mini bruins jersey.

“woah, slow it down there partner.” he scoops her up into his arms easily, and her eruption of laughter makes you smile.

“can we go now?” eve says through giggles.

“you don’t want to wait for uncle chris and parker?” you ask knowingly, and she sighs, leaning her small head against matt’s chin.

“i guess.”

as if on que, there’s a loud pounding on the front door, and you hear it open. eve’s face lights up, and she claps her hands together in excitement.

“they’re here, they’re here!”

“we’re here evie!” chris calls back, and the smile is clear in his voice.

matt sets your daughter down so she can run for the stairs, the both of you following closely behind her.

parker is hiding behind chris’s legs, one hand grabbing onto his dad’s black cargos for safety. the second eve comes rushing toward him, though, he opens right up as always.

they hold each other tightly for a second as you finally reach the bottom of the grand staircase, which gives you time to pull chris into a quick embrace too.

“good to see you, as always.” you grin, and he matches your expression.

“i can never turn down some family time.”

matt chuckles a little, clapping his brother on the back as they hug next. “you just want an excuse for me to drive so you can get a drink.”

“well, i can’t turn that down either.” chris jokes back.

“alright, who’s ready for some hockey?” you ask, mainly to eve and parker, who both bounce around with each other happily.

“me!”

“me too!”

you herd everyone into the car and get the kids situated in their respective booster seats beside chris. there’s always an extra in your vehicle, just in case parker is around, which is often.

you love the little guy. he really is like a mini version of his dad, and chris’s wife is gorgeous too, which also shows in his face. you were so upset when you found out she was sick, but she insisted you guys needed to go enjoy without her, so here you are.

most of the drive to the garden is spent singing along to the radio and keeping eve and parker in check. as cute as they are together as cousins, they’re also trouble. to be fair, they’re only three, so it’s in their nature.

you used to think that eve got her rebel streak from her father, but matt insisted it’s a trait that came from you. as the time went on, you realized that she’s definitely inherited it from your side of the family.

thinking about it makes you grin a little bit to yourself. she’s definitely equal parts of you and matt.

eve’s voice interrupts your thoughts, almost like she knew what was going on in your brain.

“are we there mommy?”

“almost, i promise.”

“pinky?” parker chimes in next.

“oh, of course.” you fully lean across the center console so you can extend your pinky finger to him.

he loops his own little hand with yours and shakes it, and you do the same with eve.

it seems like only seconds later you’re pulling into the arena’s parking deck, and the kids start kicking in their seats eagerly.

chris unbuckles them and helps them out into the chilly air as you round the corner of the car. thankfully they’re both all bundled up in their outfits, even complete with their little matching bruins beanies that matt had picked out months ago.

the whole walk toward the entrance, chris and matt take turns swinging parker and eve between themselves, and you’re all still laughing as you approach security.

matt scans the tickets and suddenly you’re meshing with the crowd, keeping the kids close as you head for concessions first.

the rink is all lit up as you finally make your way to your seats minutes later, equipped with two beers, two sodas, and two tubs of popcorn.

the kids munch happily from their seats as they watch warm-ups, just a couple rows back from the glass. you can’t help but beam, sneakily taking pictures of the two of them together because it just warms your heart.

“looking at the two of them kind of makes me want more, you know.” matt leans over from the seat on the other side of you, breath tickling your ear.

you nudge him playfully, though it makes your pulse skyrocket as you turn to look at him.

“just say the word.”

it’s his turn to go slack-jawed, and he has to clear his throat to force himself to stop thinking about the possibility of more children with you, the woman he fucking adores.

you’d never really talked about it after eve, since you were both so hyper-focused on her as new parents. plus, she’s always had her cousin every step of the way.

but maybe she’d like having a little brother or sister of her own.

“maybe they can stay at chris’s place tonight?” matt thinks out loud.

“let him drink that beer a little longer and i’m sure you can convince him.” you grin as you take a sip of your own.

a few minutes later the arena gets dark as the announcer hypes up the crowd, and you’re (mostly) all on your feet cheering once the bruins skate onto the ice.

parker is piggy-backing on chris’s shoulders, arms flung around his neck as his dad supports him. you’ve got eve on your hip so she can get a good view as well, watching the players while the spotlights focus in on the rink.

her eyes are as wide as saucers, like she’s totally entranced by the noise and the movement.

“daddy, look!” eve points at them excitedly, leaning in your arms so she can glance over at matt.

“i know baby! isn’t it cool?” he feeds into her enthusiasm with a wide grin.

your heart soars as you transfer her into matt’s arms, watching as he ruffles her beanie a little bit so she shrieks with laughter. it’s precious, watching him treat her like the little princess she is.

the national anthem plays shortly after, and the game officially begins. you watch as he points out players to eve, telling her different fun facts about each of them.

chris is bopping parker around on his back to the beat of the music, and he smiles along with his dad.

for a moment, you’re completely consumed by your own thoughts, so thankful for this little found family of yours. you turn your head to look at matt, and he meets your eyes immediately.

“i love you.” you mouth, unable to contain your smile.

“i love you more.” he mouths back.

[torturedtypewritersdept]

blue eyes + bruises - part four

✯ pairing:

doctor!rafe cameron x fem!reader

✯ summary:

a tragic car accident looks like it'll be the end for you, but dr. cameron is here to make sure that doesn't happen.

✯ warnings:

mature themes, mentions of anxiety, nostalgia, and fear, car accident, death of a spouse (not rafe or y/n), major surgery, injuries, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, etc.

✯ a/n:

nothing!! please don't engage if you have a hard time with any of these topics <3 this was origianlly posted on my old blog @/illicitfixations, @/lovelornanonymity back in 2021/2022 and i have rewritten + reshared it here :)

m.list

—

You laid on your back at an incline, fluffy pillows behind your head, as bits of light peeked underneath the door of your hospital room. You wanted to roll over, but every time you moved it felt like every nerve ending in your body was being ripped out of its designated home only to be replaced, rolled up, and smashed with the weight of a thousand bricks. You were in more pain than you had felt in your entire life and these days it seemed you felt like this more than you didn’t. You were brought out of your thoughts by the shadow of footsteps breaking up the light that peered in underneath your door and you smiled – Dr. Rafe Cameron reporting for duty. 

“How’s my favorite patient this morning?” 

Rafe asked, taking in your sleepy form as you attempted to turn over, hearing the sound of his voice and his knock on the mahogany door. You turned your head and smiled slightly at the tall drink of water of a man that stood at the end of your bed as he picked up your chart and Jenni moved to monitor your vitals. You’d only been earthside again for a week but he hadn’t left your side since except to sleep and eat and for the life of you, you couldn’t understand why. 

“What time is it?” 

You grumbled, eyes squinting but letting out a giggle as Jenni moved behind Rafe to open the blinds letting the sunlight beam in and assault your corneas. 

“It’s bright and early, sleepy head. We’re sitting at a whopping six am.” 

He responded with a chuckle as you shielded your eyes with your hands from the sun that now infiltrated the room. He was kind enough to take a seat in front of the window, his muscles casting a shadow over your eyes. You were thankful. Rafe had been up since 4 – making rounds and going over the logistics of your upcoming surgery, again. Even though it was an operation he had performed a hundred times over, he needed to know that this would go smoothly – images of you coding on the table during the last operation you had filled his brain. What if it happens again, what if he can’t save you this time? He continued to ask himself as the anxiety wrapped its ropes around his rapidly beating heart like a lasso. 

“What are you doing waking me up so early?” 

You rolled your eyes, faking annoyance at the gorgeous man in front of you – you couldn’t kid yourself, you counted down the seconds and hours until you’d see him again. You knew how pathetic that was and you were sure that he probably had a beautiful wife and a million other patients that were fawning over him every second of the day, but you couldn’t help it – Rafe felt warm and peaceful and he felt like home even though you had only known him for a few days. 

“I know, I know – I’m sorry. But, I wanted to come talk to you about your injuries and just what your treatment plan is going to look like from here on out. Before we do that though, how’s your pain?” 

Rafe sat parallel to you with his hand on your head, concern written over his features though keeping a bright smile plastered on his face. You were convinced no one else could smile like that, you called it the Rafe Cameron smile – because it only belonged to him and you hoped incessantly that you would one day too. You answered him, pushing those thoughts away as quickly as they had come. 

“About an 8.” 

You stated in a near whisper, grimacing as you tried to shift in the bed. Looking up at his brutishly charming face, you melted as you felt his hands stroke the hair above your forehead. The truth was that you had been awake since the moment Rafe had stepped foot in the hospital, maybe even before, it was like your body knew when he wasn’t near though you barely knew each other at all. It could’ve been that or the immense amounts of pain the left side of your skeleton was in. Every few hours, just like clockwork, the pulsating throb of your broken bones made itself known again. Rafe holds out his hand to you as he helps you adjust where you sit in your bed, moving to press the correct button and moving the top of the bed further to allow you to sit up just a bit more. 

“I know it hurts, sweet girl. I’m sorry. Jenni, let’s give her a dose of morphine.”

He spoke nonchalantly but with a tenderness that you had never heard and you were thankful, he made you feel like you weren't just another patient – like he actually gave a shit. You were sure he really did. You reached for his other hand, giving it a thankful squeeze and he smiled - the Rafe Cameron smile. 

Jenni moves around Rafe effortlessly; fast-paced enough to get the job done but at such a level of ease you’re sure she’s barely moved. She makes it look easy the way she cares for you. Rafe lets go of your hand and it seems like he’s unwilling, the softness in his eyes gives him away. But, he can’t hold your hand all day, he has to care for you too. Though, he wishes more than anything he could do it all simultaneously. He fiddles with your blood pressure cuff, igniting the machine and ordering it to take a new read. 

“So, you're gonna tell me why I've got this thing sticking out of my leg?” 

Rafe chuckled at your remark, glancing down at the metal frame protruding from the sides of your thigh and lower leg. 

“Sassy in the mornings, huh?”

He joked back at you and you cast your eyes down to your lap. 

“Sorry, not much of a morning person.” 

You replied half-heartedly, eyes locked on your hands as they lay in your lap against the white blanket that covered your non-injured leg. The truth was sleep had evaded you ever since you came off the ventilator and the neck brace had been removed; the extra mobility and breathing on your own had left every fiber of your being hurting; even to the tips of your hair. You weren’t mad to be awake – well, you were – but more than anything you were frustrated beyond belief at the pain and the entirety of the situation you’d found yourself in. Though, Rafe and Jenni definitely seemed to be a silver lining. The other part that has made you so angry was that there is a lot of your life from before that you can’t remember. It’s left a hole much larger than you can really fathom deep within your chest. 

“You’re okay, sweet girl.” 

He stated, smiling ear to ear as he continued rubbing your hair away from your forehead. 

“We can start with the easy stuff – as I'm sure you already know, and I can tell you do by how much pain you’re in, your left side was mostly affected in the accident. Your femur and tibia were the main sources of injury, they were both broken in multiple places so we took you into emergency surgery and put pins in it and connected it to these two frames. It was all pretty fast action so we could get your internal bleeding under control and other emergent injuries under control.” 

He stated in a way that you could understand and not get lost in the sterilization of it all. 

“How long will I be in this frame? Is it forever? Surely it can’t be.” 

You questioned, feigning humor and Rafe grabbed your hand, gently stroking it as some kind of form of comfort. 

“No, it’s not forever, I promise. You’ll be having another surgery in a couple of days that’ll remove the hardware and insert screws and a plate into both your femur and tibia. We will also be focusing on fixing your pelvis and kneecap, which were both badly broken, as well.” 

He replied. 

“All of this will be done at the same time?” 

You asked, eyebrows furrowed together in confusion as your eyes moved upward and met Rafe’s blue ones. He nodded his head yes. 

“It’ll take close to nine hours.” 

He replied. 

“Gosh, Rafe, I’m sorry to make you work for that long. That must be difficult to do.” 

You squeezed his hand and gave him those sweet, sad, kiss me eyes. His heart almost exploded at the thought that you were in for such a long recovery, yet cared about how long he was working. This girl is an angel from heaven, he thought. 

“It is difficult, sweet girl, I won’t lie. But, luckily for you, I’m the best there is.” 

He said, throwing a wink your way. He watched as blush rose to your cheeks and you smiled shyly. 

“Will this be the last one? Surgery – I mean.” 

You questioned him after a beat of silence with a hopeful look in your eyes. It crushed him to disappoint you, but the damage to your hips and leg was extensive and it would take more than one surgery to fix it. 

“No, unfortunately not, sweet girl. I’m sorry. You have some torn ligaments in your leg, as well so you’ll need at least one more, depending how bad the breaks are when I get in there today. I’ll do my best to make sure it’s only one more, okay? You have my word.” 

You frowned at the thought that you just had more and more surgery you needed to undergo. Truthfully you were still fuzzy on all the logistics of your injuries, but you knew they were bad. Rafe had briefly explained to you a couple of days after you woke up that your injuries were extensive, you just didn’t know this is what he had meant when he said it. So, here you were, three days later, getting prepped to be miserable for the next six to eight weeks. Rafe took in the frown that sat on your features and it made his chest hurt – you, here with only a doctor and a nurse you barely knew to provide you comfort – he couldn’t imagine how you felt, how scared you must be, how lonely and sad it must be. How could your family leave you here like this? Didn’t they care at all? He noticed the way you fiddled with your fingers and the way your eyes were locked on your hands – you were nervous. He would be too if he was in your shoes, surgery number two ahead of him, more bones broken than not, unable to leave the bed on his own, and no one you cared about in sight. He only hoped to provide you with half of the comfort that you gave him.

“Hey, look at me. It’s okay, I promise. I know it’s daunting and scary, but I’m going to get you through this, okay?” 

His voice soothed you and so did his words – this stranger whom you knew virtually nothing about outside of his profession, made you feel safe and cared for and loved more than any of your family ever had. You were almost thankful they didn’t show or they didn’t care, even though it did make you feel unloved and pathetic. 

“We got this, okay?” 

He spoke again, voice lingering on the question – needing you to tell him that you were in this with him – that you trusted him to help guide you through it all. 

“Okay. Are there other injuries that need surgery or is it just the leg?” 

You asked and he put his hand in yours, giving it a squeeze. 

“No – you had some internal bleeding and damage to your abdomen, but we operated and fixed those issues. You also had some head trauma, broken ribs, and whiplash which were all treated when you came in. You’ll start physical therapy in the next few days to get some of your mobility back. The sooner we can get you moving, the better.”

You simply nodded in his direction, giving him a sweet smile as he brought your hand into both of his, giving it another reassuring squeeze before exiting your room. Your heart longed for him the second he disappeared from your line of sight.

-

“You ready, sweet girl?”  

Jenni asked you before pulling up the guard rails and giving you a hair net to place on your hair. You simply nodded your head in response, nerves racking your body as she began rolling you out of the room and down the corridors of the hallway. 

It all seemed like a blur – the doors that lined the hallway, the rolling of the wheels underneath the bed you laid on, squeaking incessantly. You could tell the bed was heavy as the nurses struggled turning it around the corner as you sat outside the operating room. They pushed you inside, transferring you to the operating table and beginning to move quickly around you stretching your arms out by your sides and you could feel the pit in your stomach building, the knot, the fire, the ache of the anxiety that began to swirl within you caused your breath to quicken. The nurses continued to probe you, trying to get you as comfortable as possible and the feeling of their gloved hands on your skin was too much. Jenni watched as your lip trembled.

“N-no, n-no – stop!” 

Suddenly, Rafe’s blue eyes came into your view as he stood over you, a scrub cap with teal blue and white cartoon sharks on his head and seafoam green scrubs covering his body. Tears rolled out of the corners of your eyes and he placed his gloved hand over your cheek. 

“y/n – sweetheart?” 

He questioned, softly as he stood over you.

“I-I’m scared, Rafe.” 

Your voice trembled and it broke his heart into a million pieces. 

“I know, sweetheart. But, I’m right here. I’m gonna be with you the whole time, okay?”

He reassured you.

“What if it doesn’t work?” 

You questioned. 

“It’ll work, I promise. I do this kind of surgery all the time. I’ll put the bones back together and then we just have to wait for them to heal, okay?” 

He squeezed your hand again, wishing he could unhook you from every machine you were connected to and pull you in for the world’s longest hug. One where he’d rub the back of your head and pool your hair into his hands. But, he couldn’t. He was on OR time and everyone was gathered here so he could fix the broken parts of you and that’s what he intended to do – fix you. You simply nodded and let the medical team around you work diligently as they prepared to put you to sleep. 

-

It was late afternoon when you woke up, the sun still bright as it peered through your window. You slowly opened your eyes to see none other than the sweet dreamy doctor you were so fond of sitting next to you in the plastic chair by your bedside. 

“Rafe?” 

You questioned, wondering if it was really him sitting there or if it was a dream. Your eyes felt heavy, so much so that you could barely hold them open.

“Welcome back, sleepy head.” 

He stated with a soft smile as he stood from the chair and made his way over to you, sitting on the bed with his feet on the floor and his torso turned towards you. He brought his hands up towards your face, brushing the baby hairs that had escaped your braids away from your forehead. You stared at him for a moment taking in the baby blue’s that sat in front of you before letting out a sigh of relief. 

“Hey.” 

You whispered. 

“How did it go?” 

You questioned, voice raspy. Rafe leaned over to the table beside you, grabbing a styrofoam cup filled with ice chips and a plastic spoon. 

“Here you go sweetheart, this will help your throat.” 

He said, motioning the spoon into the cup and pooling a piece of ice onto the plastic cutlery before moving the spoon to your lips and letting you suck on it for a moment continuing on to answer your question. He smiled a bit as you let out another sigh of relief, the ice soothing the dryness of your lips and mouth. 

“Everything went great, sweet girl. Your surgeon says your leg is gonna heal up perfectly.” 

He whispered reassuringly, giving you a wink and putting his free hand in yours and giving it a squeeze, rubbing soothing circles into the skin on the back of your palm where your IV sat. 

“You think he’s right? I heard he’s a little cocky.” 

You uttered and The Rafe Cameron smile broke out of its prison again and you could’ve sworn you melted right there. 

“He is a cocky little shit, isn’t he?” 

He agreed, laughing along with you for a moment before he convinced you to rest again. Your eyes drifted closed to the hum of his laugh and for a moment things didn’t seem so bad. 

—

taglist:

as always, if you'd like to be added to or removed from the taglist, please shoot me an ask or comment on this post so i can keep track <3

@maybankslover @inthelibrarybtw @luvrcndy @silkylovey @yagirlwrites @obxbabygirl @rafeecameronsbitch @klutzy-kay24 @roseczbalt @akobx @allsmilesreally7 @wtfdudesblog @urdreamgirl12

[daisies-daydreams]

I’m in desperate need of a desperate Miguel who worships the very ground his wife walks on 😔🙏 BRO IS HUGE AND I JUST KNOW. I JUST KNOW HE WOULD LOVE TO BE LIKE A CAT AND MAKE BISCUITS ON HIS CHUBBY WIFEY. And the ASSets are just sprinkles on the cake. So let’s just say chubby wifey puts on a whole cute outfit and her hair is cute and everything. They go on a date and Yk she gets stares and compliments..BUT MIGUELS POSSESSIVE ASS IS LIKE ‘keep looking..keep saying stuff..BUT THIS ASS IS MINE’ Yk. And then it ends with Miguel bending us over at a 90 degree angle and possible 180. How does he do it idk. Science.

Adore You (Miguel O’Hara x Plus-Size!Wife!Reader)

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x Plus-Size!Wife!Reader Category: Fluff/Smut (18+) Warnings: Jealous!Miguel, Swearing, Manhandling, Oral Sex (F!Receiving), Vaginal Fingering, Mating Press, Full Nelson, Unprotected P in V Sex (You know the drill), Rough Sex, Slight Exhibitionism, Creampies, I'm Not Fluent in Spanish Word Count: 5.5k+

A/N: Hi hi! Thank you very much for your request! I love husband!Miguel (that man has my whole heart I swear). I hope you enjoy! 💕

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DNI

The valet’s cheeks flushed the second you stepped out of the car.

“G-Good evening ma’am,” the thin man stammered. You flashed him a friendly smile as you smoothed your hands over your dress, your breasts nearly spilling out from the tight-fitting clothing as you adjusted yourself. Your eyes sparkled as you looked up at the luxurious restaurant before you - a large marble building laced with ribbons of ivy. You smiled when your husband, Miguel, came beside you and gingerly laid a hand on your hip.

“Happy anniversary, cariño,” your beloved whispered with a bright grin [honey]. You beamed and turned around, your hands gliding over his muscular forearms. Miguel’s eyes softened as you raised yourself on your tiptoes and puckered your lips. He smiled and dipped his head down to capture your lips in a warm, tender embrace. His brows furrowed when the valet cleared his throat.

“Right,” your husband muttered as he handed the man his keys. The valet thanked him before climbing into the large, black sports car. You squeaked as Miguel’s hand glided from your hip to the globe of your ass.

“Mi amor,” you whispered loudly as your cheeks flushed [My love]. Your husband chuckled.

“What? I’m just escorting my lovely wife inside,” he mused with a wink.

“Mhm,” you hummed with raised brows. Miguel pecked your forehead as he kept his hand over your bum while leading you inside. You looked around in awe at the several marble pillars that lined the walls of the restaurant.

"O'Hara, party of two," your husband said to the hostess at the front desk. The blonde woman nodded before grabbing two thick menus.

"Please follow me!" she chirped. You smiled at your beloved as the two of you were escorted to the back patio. The sound of piano music combined with the casual chatter of the guests filled your ears as you stepped back outside. You gasped when you saw a table set by the balcony: a bottle of wine neatly placed on the side, a card resting on a plate, and rose petals sprinkled across the white table cloth.

"One of our servers will be out momentarily. Enjoy your evening!" the woman said as she clasped her hands together.

"Thank you," you grinned before she turned and walked back inside. Your heart warmed as Miguel took your smaller hand into his.

“Do you like it?” he asked before kissing each and every one of your knuckles. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you nodded.

“I love it. Muchas gracias, mi vida,” you sniffed [Thank you so much, my life]. Your husband smiled and cupped your cheek.

"De nada, mi amor," he whispered [You’re welcome]. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach as Miguel stepped over and pulled out your chair.

"Mi señora," he hummed [My lady].

"Gracias, mi caballero," you giggled as you took your seat [Thank you, my gentleman]. Miguel kissed the top of your head just as your waiter strolled up to the table.

“Welcome to Le Jardin de Marbre! My name is Mark and I’ll be taking care of you this...fine evening,” the dark-haired man lilted as his eyes grazed over your form. You felt Miguel shift behind you before Mark's smile fell. He cleared his throat while your husband took his seat. “Would the two of you care for any other drinks besides your wine?” the waiter asked.

“Yes, I'll have a water, please,” you replied. Miguel simply nodded with a short grunt. Mark grinned before popping open the bottle of red wine. You gasped as the cork flew over your head and over the balcony.

“Ah, I’ll get it later,” the waiter laughed nervously. You giggled while Miguel’s furrowed his thick brows. Mark leaned close to you while he tilted the neck of the bottle over your sparkling glass.

“Might I say you look wonderful this evening, ma’am,” the bold man whispered. You flushed a little as you gazed back down at the menu.

“Th-Thank you,” you muttered. You blinked as you shifted your gaze between your glass and the bottle. “Um, that’s good,” you piped up. Mark looked down to see that he’s nearly filled your entire glass.

“Sorry about that,” he said with an apologetic smile. Miguel raised a brow as he poured his drink next. Mark's hands shook as your husband's frown slowly shifted into a deep scowl. The server placed the bottle down before stepping back.

“I’ll go get your waters,” Mark said before quickly turning on his heel. You took a small sip of your wine, the slightly sweet flavor washing over your taste buds as you turned your attention to the card in front of you.

“Would you like me to open it now?” you asked.

“I'll leave it up to you,” he smiled before taking a sip of his drink. Your heart skipped a beat as you carefully ripped the envelope open. You pulled the card out with a giddy smile as you straightened in your seat. You smiled as you opened it, a small postcard slipping out. You eyed it briefly before your attention was stolen by the words in front of you:

“Mi Cielo,

Words can’t describe how much love I have for you. Every day I’m thankful to have you as my wife-my beloved. You make my heart glow when I wake up next to you every morning, when I get home from work, when you hold me after I’ve had a long day. You are so precious, (Y/N), and I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with someone as incredible as you.

Te amo mucho, mi vida. Feliz aniversario.

Sincerely,

Tu gran oso”

Tears streamed down your cheeks as your bottom lip trembled.

“Lo siento, mi amor. I didn’t mean to make you cry,” Miguel cooed as he brushed his thumb over your cheek [I’m sorry, my life]. You shook your head.

“No, it’s okay. I’m just so, so happy to have someone as amazing as you in my life,” you beamed. Miguel’s eyes softened as he slipped his hand into yours again.

“Gracias, bella,” he murmured [Thank you, beautiful]. “Did you see the little gift I left in there?” Miguel asked with a sparkle in his eye. You glanced down at your lap to see the postcard staring up at you. Your heart raced as you picked it up, admiring the picturesque image of Niagara Falls. You curiously flipped it over.

“Make sure to bring your raincoat ♥️”

You gasped and looked up.

“You mean…” your voice trailed off. Miguel smiled brightly and nodded.

“I was even able to book the same suite. It’s only for a long weekend, but I know those few days will be well spent with you, mi vida,” he cooed as he kissed your hand. You couldn’t stop yourself from getting up and wrapping your arms around your husband, your heart brimming with joy.

You’ll never forget that day he took you to Niagara Falls. It was a complete surprise when Miguel knelt down on the deck of your hotel room, the rumble of the falls filling your ears as he asked you to spend the rest of your life with him.

“Te amo mucho, gran oso,” you sniffed [I love you very much, big bear]. Miguel cupped your cheek before pressing another tender kiss to your lips.

“Te amo mucho, conejita,” Miguel beamed [I love you very much, little bunny]. You bit your lip as you pulled back and took your seat. Your heart pounded against your sternum as you pulled out the small box from your purse.

“My gift isn’t as big,” you said a little sheepishly. Miguel parted his lips as you handed the box to him.

“Oh, bebé. You know I’ll love any gift you give me,” he cooed [baby]. He leaned in closer. “Size doesn’t matter, right?” Miguel smirked. You rolled your eyes and laughed.

“Right…it’s how you use it,” you reply with a wry grin. Miguel shook his head as he chuckled.

“I love your quick wit, conejita,” your beloved hummed. You leaned forward on your elbows as you watched Miguel start to unwrap his gift. You bit your lip as he pulled the lid off with a quiet "pop". His eyes lit up when he saw a silver watch glisten beneath the dim candlelight. You squeezed your hands in your lap as he slipped it out of the box.

“Oh, hermosa,” Miguel breathed as he slid the watch against his wrist [beautiful]. You bit your lip a little harder as he admired it. “The very first gift you gave me,” he murmured softly. You nodded as you rubbed the back of your neck.

“I know you said that you’ve been meaning to get it fixed for a while, so I stopped by the jewelers last month,” you said. Miguel clasped the watch over his wrist, smiling as he observed the hands of the little clock tick by.

“Thank you so much, (Y/N),” Miguel smiled as he leaned forward. Your heart skipped a beat as you met him in the middle, your lips slowly caressing each other in a loving embrace. You sighed as he cupped your cheek, your heart fluttering as his warm lips sweetly brushed over yours. You pulled your head back when someone nearby cleared their throat.

“Your water, ma'am,” Mark said as he placed your glass onto the table. "Sir," he said to Miguel with a bit more flat tone. You slumped back in your chair before realizing you haven't even looked at the menu.

"We still need a few minutes," you said to your waiter.

"Of course," Mark said with a bright grin before excusing himself. You and Miguel relaxed as you opened your menus. You smiled at the way the candlelight flickered in Miguel’s soft, brown eyes.

Tonight couldn’t have been more perfect.

+++

You patted your napkin over your mouth before sinking into your seat with a satisfied smile.

“That was the best food I’ve had in a while,” you sighed happily. Your husband quirked one of his thick, dark brows.

“Even better than my cooking?” Miguel asked. Your eyes widened.

“Oh, um, well-“ your husband started to chuckle.

“Don’t worry, hermosa. I know my cooking’s terrible,” he snickered. You giggled.

“I mean, I was going to say something…” you lilted. Miguel placed a hand over his chest as if cradling a fresh wound.

“Ouch,” he replied.

“You said it, not me,” you shrugged before taking another sip of your wine. Miguel chuckled, his eyes half lidded as they raked over your form.

“I think this wine’s making us both a bit too bold,” Miguel smirked. Your cheeks warmed as he gently reached beneath the table and laid his hand on your knee. You bit your lip as a wave of heat swept through your core.

“Maybe that’s not such a bad thing,” you replied with a low whisper. Just as Miguel tilted his head and leaned forward, Mark’s shadow loomed over the two of you.

“Your bill, sir,” he said as he set the paper down on the table. Your love made no effort to hide his annoyance as he took the receipt.

“Thanks,” your husband said. He pulled out his credit card after the server briskly walked away. Miguel sighed and rose from his seat. “I’ll be right back,” he whispered with quick peck to your cheek. You grinned and watched as he walked back into the restaurant.

+++

Miguel hummed as he strolled towards the restroom. It’s been so long since his heart has felt this full. Your smile, your laugh, the smooth, gentle touch of your lips against his all made him feel more complete. Miguel wore a bright grin as he pushed the restroom door wide open.

“Did you see the juicy ass on that chick sitting next to the balcony?” Mark loudly whispered. Miguel froze and lingered in the doorway when he saw two waiters at the urinals.

“Dude, I know. I’d love a piece of that cake…if you know what I mean,” the other server chortled. Miguel narrowed his eyes. Okay, there’s a lot of people out on the patio. Surely they weren’t-

“And that tight, black dress-fuck. Can’t imagine how those pretty tits would look while she’s-“

Both of them whipped their heads around when Miguel let the door slam behind him, a deadly glint flickering in his eyes as his jaw tightened.

“Excuse me, I couldn’t help but overhear your conversation,” he said while straightening his shoulders. Mark frowned as his eyes grew to the size of dinner plates.

“O-Oh,” he simply replied as he awkwardly shuffled in place. Miguel tilted his head, his muscles bulging beneath his crisp suit.

“H-Hey man. We didn’t mean any harm,” the other waiter said as he hastily zipped up his pants. Miguel scoffed and narrowed his eyes.

“Well, I suggest you speak about my wife with much more respect-or any woman for that matter,” he spat. Their faces grew cherry red as Miguel tugged on his jacket. “Now, if you’ll excuse me gentlemen, I’m going to go home and make love to my beautiful wife,” Miguel said as he tugged on his jacket. He scowled as he turned on his heel and stomped back outside.

+++

You blinked as Miguel strolled up to the table. To say he looked enraged would’ve been an understatement: his nostrils were flared, shoulders tensed and face glowing a bright cherry red.

“Miguel, what’s wrong?” you asked as you placed a hand on his large arm. Your husband paused as he glanced towards the glass doors. His eyes became half-lidded as he took your hand into his before pulling you up. You squeaked as he reached down and cupped his other palm against the globe of your ass.

“M-Miguel,” you said in a loud whisper as you nervously glanced around. You could’ve sworn you saw him smirk as the waiter rushed up to your table. Mark’s hands trembled as he threw the credit card and receipt down.

“Thankyouhavealovelyevening!” he squeaked before running back into the building. You furrowed your brows before grabbing your things.

"I wonder what happened to him?" you wondered aloud as you slipped your cards into your purse. Your face glowed with heat as Miguel squeezed your supple ass with more force before guiding you across the patio.

“Miguel, people are looking,” you whispered as your eyes scanned the crowd.

“Let them look,” he replied with a low rumble as he opened the door for you. You tilted your head down as waiters, patrons, even the receptionist stared as your husband escorted you to the front of the building.

Miguel didn’t even need to say anything as the two of you made your way towards the valet stand, the man’s face beet red as you approached. He quickly snatched your keys and rushed to get your car, nearly tripping over the curb in the process. You glanced up at your beloved, his face twisted with even more fury than before. You bit your lip as you turned around and rested your hands on his chest.

“Miguel, bebé, please tell me what’s wrong,” you pleaded while rubbing your palms against his white button-up. Miguel’s shoulders remained stiff as you rubbed his chest, your bottom lip poking out every so slightly. "¿Por favor?" you asked [Please?]. He frowned and glanced away as the valet rolled up with your car and scrambled towards you.

“H-Have a good evening,” the man said, his face completely drained of all color. You gave the valet an apologetic smile before you slid into the black, polished car. The tension on the ride home was nearly unbearable. Miguel’s jaw clenched and unclenched as he kept his eyes on the road, his large hands gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned pale. The sound of soft jazz playing on the radio did little to ease the knot of anxiety tightening in your chest.

Did you do something wrong? Did he actually hate the gift you gave him? He put so much effort into booking the restaurant and the place the two of you stayed where he proposed to you…and what did you give him? A repaired watch.

You felt completely deflated by the time Miguel pulled up to your apartment complex.

“We’re home,” he said in a subdued voice. You nodded, your heart sinking into your stomach as you unbuckled your seatbelt. Your shoes clacked against the sidewalk as the two of you made your way to the front door.

“Evening, Mr. and Mrs. O’Hara,” the doorman Ben said.

"Evening, Ben," you said with a small smile. Your throat tightened when Miguel wrapped one of his bulky arms around you and pulled you to his side. You frowned as the two of you stepped inside, his grip unyielding as you walked into the elevator. You felt Miguel loosen his hold on you, allowing you some space to step back.

“Miguel, what-” you gasped when he pinned you against the wall and captured your mouth in a wet, sloppy kiss. Your breasts rubbed against your strapless bra as you felt him slide his tongue past your lips, his wet muscle tangling with yours as something hard poked at the inside of your thigh. You panted when he pulled back, his pupils blown and drinking in your curvaceous form.

“Y-You’re not mad at me?” you blinked. Your husband furrowed his dark brows.

“Mad? Why would I be mad at you, mi ángel?” Miguel purred as he rested his hands on your hips [my angel]. You gripped the lapels of his navy blue jacket as he began to grind his hard cock against your clothed pussy. You bit your lip as a pulse of arousal shot through your core.

“Te deseo, Mami,” your love groaned [I want you, Mommy]. You gasped as he rubbed his hard, throbbing cock against your crotch while he kneaded the supple flesh of your waist. “God, you have no idea how much I wanted to rip this dress off your body and fuck you right on that patio,” he rumbled and nipped at the shell of your ear. You shivered as Miguel trailed his lips over your pulse.

“Miguel,” you panted as he ground his hips against you, your clit throbbing against the fabric of your silky panties. Your husband pulled back as soon as the elevator dinged.

“Mi amor, por fa - te necesito,” he husked as he dipped his hand beneath your chin and tilted your head up [My love, please - I need you]. You felt your inhibitions quickly dissolve as a wave of heat pulsed through your core.

“Soy todo tuyo,” you whispered as you laid your hands over his chest [I’m yours]. You moaned as he bared his teeth against your neck and slid his hands over your plump ass. You squeaked and ducked your head into his broad shoulder when he slapped your rear, the slight sting sending ripples of arousal through your heat.

“I’m going to make sure you never forget this night,” Miguel growled as he kneaded your supple cheeks in his massive palms. Your heart raced as he picked you up by your waist and carried you into the penthouse. You dropped your purse on the tiled floor as you threaded your fingers through his dark, silky locks. Miguel groaned as your lips met in a passionate dance, your tongues gliding across one another with a soft squelch. You hungrily devoured each other’s mouths in a heated kiss as he kicked the bedroom door open. You squeaked at the sudden noise and tensed in his arms.

“Lo siento. I didn’t mean to startle you,” Miguel whispered, his plump lips dancing over yours [I’m sorry].

“It’s okay,” you murmured gently, your hands falling down to wrap around his thick neck. Your husband's eyes raked across your body as he laid you down on the plush, king-sized bed. You dug your nails into the back of his neck as he suckled over the nape of your neck, his deft fingers rolling the skirt of your dress over your hips. He sucked in a sharp breath when he laid eyes on your clothed sex.

“See what you do to me, bebé?” Miguel groaned before taking your hand and trailing it down his shirt. Your breath hitched when you felt the heavy, hard cock twitch against your palm. You bit your lip and mewled as your love nipped at your soft skin.

“Papi, fuck,” you gasped as he slid your thong to the side and rubbed at your slick, puffy folds with his digits. You husband rumbled as he spread your pussy lips apart with his thick fingers.

"Mm, tan mojada," Miguel groaned with a smirk [so wet].

"Please, Miguel," you swallowed thickly as you spread your legs as much as you could. Your husband licked his lips as he locked eyes with you.

"Don't worry, baby. Just need to make sure you're stretched out for my cock first," he rumbled. Your mouth opened in a silent moan when he suddenly sank two of his thick digits inside your tight, weeping hole.

“Oh my God!” you shivered and gripped the sheets as he curled his fingertips against your sensitive, spongey g-spot. Your gummy walls clenched around his two digits as Miguel chuckled. He parted his lips as he massaged your hip, his eyes lit with a deep, primal hunger.

“That’s it, bebé. Keep making those pretty noises for me,” Miguel grunted as relentlessly thrusted his fingers inside your plush cunt. Your eyes widened as he kissed down your chest and stomach before hovering his lips over your mound.

“S-Shit!” you moaned and arched your back as your husband dipped his head down and eagerly suckled on your bundle of nerves. Miguel grunted against your juicy slit, your arousal smearing over his broad chin as you ground your hips against his face. “M-Miguel, baby,” you groaned as your love flattened his warm tongue over your engorged bud.

“Tan bueno - sabe tan bien,” he growled against your wet folds before lapping at your clit [So good - tastes so good]. Tears of pleasure pricked at the corners of your eyes as Miguel continued to fuck your tight pussy with his thick fingers.

“Bebé,” you choked as you felt his digits stretch you out while he swirled his tongue around your bundle of nerves. Your jaw went slack when he curled his fingers inside you again, letting the intoxicating pressure linger for much longer.

“Make a mess on my face, Mami,” your husband urged with a low growl. A high-pitched cry left your swollen lips as Miguel eagerly pumped his fingers in and out of your tight, slick hole, the tension in your lower belly growing tighter and tighter.

“S-Sí Papi - just like that,” you encouraged him as you fisted the crisp bedsheets. Miguel groaned as your arousal dripped down his chin and neck, his tongue painting bold, wet stripes from your stuffed hole and all the way up to your clit. Your eyes rolled back as he pumped his fingers even faster while puckering his lips around your bundle of nerves.

“M-Miguel!” you squealed when he suddenly pulled his fingers out, leaving your hole puckering and begging for more. A bolt of pleasure struck through you when he started to hastily unbuckle his belt.

“Lo siento, mi vida. I can’t wait anymore,” Miguel growled as he shoved his slacks and briefs down in one swift motion. Your cunt fluttered when you saw his thick, heavy cock spring free, a thick bead of precum adorning his flush tip. Your husband's eyes remained on your dripping cunt as he shoved his jacket and white button-up onto the floor. Your mouth watered as you stared at the mortal Adonis standing in front of you, his rippling muscles tensing as he pumped his girthy shaft.

You gasped as he quickly climbed on top of you and cupped his palms against the back of your knees. You squealed when Miguel pushed your legs towards your shoulders, your puffy tummy poking out as he nearly folded you in half.

“Ah!” you cried as he slammed his cock inside you in one fluid thrust. Your legs tensed in his grip as you tried to adjust to the sudden fullness inside you, his girth stretching your tight hole with a delicious burn.

“Eyes on me, conejita,” Miguel murmured, his hot breath falling over your face and neck. You glanced through the sheet of tears that blurred your vision, your body quaking with pleasure as you felt the head of his cock kiss your cervix.

“I want you to make as much noise as you'd like. Don't worry about the neighbors...for tonight, it's just the two of us. Okay, Mami?” Miguel rasped before nipping the shell of your ear. You whined as your walls ached for the sweet drag of his veiny cock. You nodded vigorously as you bit your lip, the heaviness of his cock deliciously weighing in your tight hole.

"Such a good little wife," Miguel grunted as he pulled his taut hips back. Your heart skipped a beat as Miguel rested his forehead against yours before he sheathed his cock down to the hilt.

“Fuck!" you choked as you felt the slight sting of his cock molding your walls to its shape.

“God, I love how your tight, perfect pussy grips me,” Miguel murmured as he rocked his hips back and forth. His breath hitched as your walls squeezed his veiny shaft. Your cheeks burned as he wrapped his lips around yours while he thrusted into you at a rapid, sloppy pace.

“M-Miguel!” you screamed and wrung your hands in the sheets as your lover pounded into your cunt, each drag of his cock deliciously stretching you out more and more. You squealed as Miguel squeezed the back of your knees, his balls slapping against your plump asscheeks. You shivered as he released a deep growl, his cock throbbing and twitching between your swollen, gummy walls.

“R-Right there Papi!” you yelled as the bulbous head of his cock perfectly grazed over your g-spot. You threw your head back as your husband leaned forward and wrapped his lips around yours while he desperately pounded into your raw cunt.

“So good, so good to me," he panted. You moaned as you felt your cunt already starting to clamp down on his shaft.

“M-Miguel, wait! I’m gonna-” you were cut off when he pressed his lips to your neck, his hips snapping against yours and making your thick asscheeks clap loudly.

“Cum for me, conejita,” he grunted. Your bottom lip trembled as the tight knot in your belly suddenly snapped.

“MIGUEL!” you screamed as your slick walls clenched around his girth. Miguel’s thrusts stuttered as your pussy squeezed his cock in a vice grip, your slick gushing past the stuffed seam of your raw, tight cunt.

“Mierda,” your husband breathed as you unraveled beneath him [Shit]. You babbled as your cunt pulsed; every contraction sending an overwhelming wave of bliss over your trembling form. You moaned as Miguel continued to thrust his cock inside your weeping cunt, your arousal sticking to the front of his thighs as he groaned above you. Hot tears rolled down your puffy cheeks when Miguel suddenly pulled out and flipped you onto your stomach.

“Miguel?” you breathed as your heart raced. Your squealed as your husband pulled you up and wrapped his arms beneath your knees.

“Unphase the blinds to level zero,” Miguel rumbled. Your eyes widened as he lifted you up and immediately sheathed you down on his stiff cock, your slick pussy swallowing his length whole.

“¡P-Papi!” you gasped as he carried you over to your wide bedroom windows, the holographic blinds slowly fading to reveal the neon glow of Nueva York. Your thighs shook in his bulky arms as he froze just inches from the window. Your heart raced as you gazed at the lewd reflection of yourself in the crystal glass, your hot breath fogging against the clear surface.

Your jaw went slack as Miguel started to thrust into your wet heat, your gushing cunt squelching with each snap of his hips.

“Look down there, mi amor. Look at all those men who will never be able to fuck you like I do,” he rasped as he bounced you on his shaft. Your eyes glazed over as you gazed down at the streets below. You’d be more embarrassed had you not just cum on your husband’s dick…but there was a tiny part of you that indulged in being claimed by your beloved. “They’ll never get to hear your pretty moans, feel your soft, perfect pussy grip their cocks,” Miguel growled as he nipped at your neck. You dug your nails into his forearm as he pounded into your cunt with no restraint, his breathing growing ragged and arms tensing beneath your legs.

“Say you’re mine, (Y/N),” he groaned before puckering his lips over your pulse. You moaned as shook in his hold as you tried to swim through the haze of your ecstasy.

“I-I’m yours, Papi!” you screamed. You gasped as Miguel raked his teeth over your hickey.

“Who do you belong to?!” he snarled. You sobbed as your cunt greedily sucked in his cock with.

“I belong to you, Miguel!” you moaned loudly. You mewled as your arousal leaked onto the floor.

“Good girl, good fucking girl,” your husband groaned as he kissed your cheek before thrusting even faster.

“Mmmm-Miguel,” you slurred. You screamed silently as he sank his teeth into your shoulder, the slight sting mixing with the intoxicating pleasure that rippled through your core. Your throat tightened as his cock dragged along your soft walls, your slick dripping down the inside of your thighs and gliding over your jiggling asscheeks.

“Gonna cum for me again, hm?” Miguel husked before tracing the tip of his tongue across the fresh bite mark.

“S-Sí, Papi,” you whined. You felt him smirk against your shoulder as he kept you in front of the window, your heart racing at the thought of someone seeing the two of you in such an intimate position. You moaned as his thrusts began to falter, his hot breath falling over your exposed skin.

“M-Mig-!” you shouted as your vision was flooded with white.

“Yes, that’s it Mami. S-Soak this fat fucking cock with your sweet cum,” your husband rasped as you threw your head against his shoulder.

“Fuck,” you sobbed as a wave of pleasure rushed through your heat, your pussy squirting all over his massive, swollen cock. Miguel groaned as he squeezed your legs.

“So close,” he hissed through gritted teeth as his cock twitched inside your fluttering walls. You gripped your hands over his as your body jiggled with every powerful snap of his hips.

“Por fa Papi…fill me,” you whispered breathily. Miguel grunted against your neck as he slammed you down on his cock for the last time. Both of you moaned as he painted your slick walls white with thick, heavy ropes of his seed. You felt Miguel shiver behind you as his cock throbbed, his warm cum splashing against your swollen cervix.

“Yes,” Miguel growled deeply as he kept your back pressed to his chest. You swallowed thickly and shuddered as his cock began to soften inside you, thick beads of his cum swelling and dripping down the curve of your ass. The air was filled with your deep, heavy breaths, your bodies coated in a thin sheen of sweat.

“That was…wow,” you didn’t even have the mental capacity to describe what just happened. Miguel chuckled softly and nodded.

“Yeah,” he grinned and pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder. You squealed as he gave your legs another gentle squeeze. “Activate blinds to ten,” Miguel called out. The windows soon fogged up with the holographic blinds again as he took a step back. Your eyelids began to grow heavy as he carried you to bed. You whimpered when your giant husband laid both of you down, his cock softening between your raw, oversensitive walls. You sighed as you felt his hands mindlessly wander across your body, his lips grazing your neck every so often.

“Do you want to take a shower?” Miguel murmured as his lips dancing over your pulse. You sighed.

“Actually, could we just stay here for a little bit?” you asked and slightly turned his face. The corners of your husband’s eyes crinkled as he gave you a gentle smile.

“Of course, mi amor,” he purred and pecked your lips. You returned his grin as he kept you against his chest, his large, bulky arms wrapped around you like a cozy cocoon. You kissed his bulging bicep before tracing your fingertips across the many dips and curves of his arm. Miguel sighed as he nuzzled his face against your neck, his warm breath tickling over your pulse.

“Te amo mucho, (Y/N),” your beloved whispered before gently kissing your cheek. You sighed as you relished in the way his lips lingered on your skin while you closed your eyes.

“Te amo mucho, Miguel,” you murmured softly.

----

Thank you for reading! 💖

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The Duck Pond: Alden Parker x Reader

Tagging: @kmc1989 @mandy426 @caffeinatedwoman @elefrog25-blog @toheavenwmydrms

Companion piece to:

Pillow Talk - Alden realises he's a shitty husband.

Two Points For Honesty - Alden makes a confession about his time on the run with Viv.

Wild Flowers - You confront Viv about what happened with Alden.

You’re not in your office when Alden comes to find you at the end of the day, the lights are off and the door is locked. Through the glass panelling he can see the spring wild flowers sticking out of the trash can, a tulip wilting over the edge and he knows in that moment that Viv has been to see you.

This situation between the three of you, it’s becoming untenable. His case is no closer to being solved and the longer it goes on…

Well he worries about there being a marriage to come back to because as tortious as he’s finding her presence, it must be a thousand times worse for you.

He finds you on a bench by the duck pond the two of you like to visit on Sundays. You always bring a small bag of frozen peas because it’s nutritious and the ducks love to play with them.

There’s a pink pastry box from the Flamingo bakery by your side and your fingertips are covered in powdered sugar. He sighs because this is another one of your stress behaviours, if it’s not smoking it’s donuts and from the size of the box he knows you’re going to be bouncing off the walls when you do decide to come home, if you decide to come home.

“One of those days huh?” He says as he picks up the box and takes up residency in it’s space. He sets it back down on his lap, feeling the weight of one donut remaining.

“Yea.” You reply, gesturing towards the box. “I got you a Boston Cream, I was going to bring it home with me but...”

You aren’t quite ready to go home yet because the apartment you share, it doesn’t feel like the sanctuary it used to, it hasn’t since that whole mess with the Raven started. You’ve been working hard, trying to get back into that mindset but it’s hard when the place keeps getting invaded.

First by Viv after the Raven took her, then the FBI, Alden with his secrets and Kris with his letters. It doesn’t feel like your refuge anymore, the sanctity of it’s been broken and you’re not quite sure how to fix it.

“Can we stay somewhere else tonight?” You ask him, your cheeks colouring as you make the request. “I know it’s stupid, but I just need to be somewhere where it’s just us, where there’s no memories of anything else, anyone else. I just need…”

You need him, him to remind you that you’re a priority in this relationship, that everything Viv says isn’t true, that you’re not just a placeholder to their inevitability.

Alden’s jaw clenches as he looks out across the duckpond and you feel something inside you just die, because you know what’s coming next.

“I can’t, there’s a stakeout tonight…”

He trails off unwilling to say the next part and he doesn’t have to because you know he’s spending the night in a car with his ex-wife, talking about old times, rekindling that flame. She’s right because there it is, that inevitability.

“Ok.” You say, your voice barely more than a whisper as you raise to your feet. “I forgot I need to be somewhere…”

“Lisa…” He calls out after you but you don’t respond you just keep your head down so he can’t see the tears on your cheeks as you walk away.

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[zepskies]

Jacklesverse Bingo 2024-25 Masterlist

Oh, I'm very excited!

It's my first time participating in a bingo, and @jacklesversebingo felt very much up my alley! 😄

Note: All stories will be released on my Patreon first.

Stories:

(**Notes 18+ only and/or smut)

Basic Instinct** - Alec McDowell x Reader

Summary: You and Alec adapt to the realities of a human/transgenic relationship, especially during your pregnancy. 

[Sequel to Being Human]

Prompt: You whisper in his ear, and he breaks into a smile.

Maybe More Than Enough - Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: You’ve been a friend and ally to the Winchester brothers for years, but you and Dean break new ground while on a stakeout to catch a witch.

Prompt: Window—Letter Opener—Binoculars

Lost Time** - Russell Shaw x Reader

Summary: When Russell takes longer than usual on a job out of town, you realize how hard it is to live half a life with him.

(Sequel to Every Second Counts)

Prompt: "Are you trying to get us in trouble?"

The Honorable Choice** - Dean Winchester x OFC

Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse.

Prompt: Western AU

Series Complete

Outlander** - Dean Winchester x OFC

(Sequel to The Honorable Choice)

Summary: Dean Winchester has been stripped of his military rank, but he’s living happier with his new wife, trying to adjust to a new life in her tribe. What will it take for her people to accept him, especially when the battle for her heart might not be completely won? 

Prompt: Western AU

Series Complete

Lost in Translation** - Soldier Boy x POC!Reader

Summary: Living with this man isn’t easy, and you’ve absolutely had it with him. Supe or not, you’re one step shy of kicking him out. Will he try to make it up to you?

Prompt: "Whatever you're going to ask, the answer is No!"

Against the Wind** - Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

Prompt: True Mates

Series Complete

Red-Eye - Jason Teague x Reader

Summary: Your best friend is getting married. Naturally, you’re running late for your flight back home to good old Smallville, Kansas, and so is the handsome stranger who saves you.

Prompt: Running late for the same flight.

⬆️ COMING IN MARCH

Over the Bridge - Beau Arlen x Soulmate!Reader

Summary: Your car is teetering on the edge of a rickety bridge. When Sheriff Beau Arlen arrives at the scene to help you, he realizes that for the first time in his life, he can hear his soulmate’s thoughts.

Prompt: “I’m gonna take care of this, but until I do, I need to get you somewhere safe.”

⬆️ COMING IN MARCH

Between the City and the Stars** - Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: In the fall of 1945, Dean is having a difficult time assimilating back into civilian life after the War. He’s visiting his brother Sam in New York City, where he’s beginning to build up his law firm. At two minutes to closing time, you interrupt their evening to solicit a solicitor. Your request? You need help in order to divorce your husband.

Prompt: Historical Epic

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[2346khith]

My name is Ahmed Bakr, a Palestinian. I live in the Gaza Strip. My least wish is to save my wife and children (Neven, Khaled, Joan, Aida, and Musk) from certain death. I write these words and ask for your help. I do not know whether we will be able to survive. This is my last message to you as a human being and the story of my life and my family since the beginning of the war. My son (Khaled) is his age. (8) years old and suffers from enlarged liver diseases, infections, and anemia from contaminated food and water. We are unable to treat him, buy medicine for him, hold a baby no more than two months old, and I am unable to provide her with milk, pampers, or even supplies for small children. My children need food and treatment. We are deprived of the food we love. Our mental health is deteriorating and very destructive, and we need hygiene supplies in the tents. I was displaced from my home from the north to the south, to Khan Yunis, then to Rafah, and then to Nuseirat. I was injured by an occupation sniper while searching for a living for my children. I endured carrying water, searching for wood to light the fire, and bringing food for my children because there was no gas for long distances. Long, all day long, surrounded by devastation, bloody missiles and shattering shrapnel. We endured constant fear day and night for a whole year without any peace or comfort. I do not know where to take my children. Our lives are very painful and difficult, and every time we miraculously escape death, I want to help everyone who can help us, those with compassionate hearts. We live in the heat of tents and under the blazing sun. My house was completely demolished after years of effort and fatigue and building our house. Then, one night and one day, everything disappeared and my children’s room was completely burned and demolished. Even our car was not spared from the bombing, as we had all the wonderful means and tools. For the sake of a decent life, we started roasting our food over the fire despite the fatigue and heat. We are still standing despite the bombing, hunger, and severe shortages. We need your help. At this Save My Children event, we invite you to share our story with your friends and families with clarity and support. Your sensible words and prayers provide strength to endure these difficult circumstances... (Your donation) can make enough difference in our lives. We depend on your support and your standing by our side through this traditional ordeal, boxing, to restore hope and safety to Hayat and her family. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for considering my application. Your support and donation are very important to me and my family

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For those who see this please, visit their blog and reblog their blog’s posts so they  get more attention and if you have the money to spare please donate.

Also I apologize, but I do not have the ability to donate to you. Trust me if I had the ability I would but I don't and I can't. I have no bank account or credit card to transfer money to and no job to gain any money. Every time I ask my parents to help they shut me down so this is the only way to help you. Please forgive me.

[jeewrites]

Hold Fast | Ch. 7 Coffee & Donuts

Rating: Mature for chapter (Series is Explicit, this blog is 18+ MDNI)

Summary: It's a rainy day and Frankie is bummed about everything going on with his ex-wife Vanessa and the impending change to the custody agreement. You convince Frankie to go with you for some coffee and treats. Reader has a car named Blue.

A/N: Thank you to everyone who's still reading the series! Life things, grief things, a lot happened since the last update, but I am going to see this series through with Sweets and Frankie. (I've actually written the last chapter believe it or not, but I just need to uh, get them there!) Thank you always for being the best beta @bloviating-vy <3

Word Count: 1.5k (it's mostly fluff y'all)

Chapter Tags/Warnings: TF AU, no y/n, fictional description of custody arrangements, aggressive driving, brief mention of wedding/anniversaries/honeymoon, Tom owns a bar called Redfly's, Pope owns a gym, alternating POV

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It seems like everyone has the same idea as you, crowding into the latest ‘it’ coffee shop, a warm beacon on this grey, drizzly day. Scrunched together at a two-top you could see the noise and crowd grating Frankie’s already low mood, despite the six shots of espresso over ice cradled in his hand. He picks at the pain au chocolate you’re sharing.

“You gonna pick out all the chocolate and just leave the pastry for me?” you joke, trying to lighten the mood.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, slouching back into his chair and taking a large gulp of his coffee. It is a damn miracle he is not vibrating out of his seat into another dimensional plane. Six fucking shots of espresso.

“Hey,” you say softly, placing your hands over his. “It’s going to work out. Might be hell for a bit, but we’ll get through it. I'm here for you, okay?”

Frankie perks up at the we. He hadn’t said it in so many words but you could tell the custody change demands from Vanessa were stressing him out on so many fronts. It was frustrating enough strategizing with his lawyer, not to mention his worry about being enough for Gabi, doing a good job as a dad, and the thought of juggling full-time custody along with his job. But also how it would impact your relationship. Despite the reassurances you'd given him that you considered him and Gabi a packaged deal, you knew he still harbored doubts, plagued by insecurity.

When someone jostles you hard enough to nearly spill your coffee, you abruptly stand up. The coffee and pastries are doing shit all to improve his mood, but you still have one trick up your sleeve.

“C’mon, let’s go,” you declare, chucking the half-mangled pastry into the trash. The poor lamination of the dough didn’t make this one worth saving. Frankie slams the rest of his espresso and shuffles towards the door behind you.

Even though you’re driving, Frankie hustles over to open the car door for you before sliding in on the passenger side. You know how defeated he’s feeling when he hadn’t insisted on driving this morning. Frankie always wants to drive.

Frankie quirks an eyebrow at you when leaving the shopping center, turning away from the direction of his house. You just shoot him a cheeky wink as you continue driving in comfortable silence. Trundling along in no particular hurry.

Eventually, you pull into the completely deserted student parking lot at the local high school. Puddles dot occasional parking spots and the air is thick with moisture. It’s no longer raining outside but the clouds hang heavy, occasionally spitting, threatening to pour again. You gently pull to a stop near one corner of the lot and grab your phone. He’s not sure what you’re looking for as you scroll through your music app and the car idles.

You finally look at him with a shy smile as you click your phone back into its holder. “You trust me, Frankie?”

“Umm, as long as you’re not about to murder me and dump my body in the ditch over there, baby,” Frankie responds looking around with hesitant but soft eyes, open to whatever you are trying to do to cheer him up.

“Awesome,” you exclaim, perking up, caffeine pumping through your veins. You flip off the A/C and traction control and hit play on your music app. Classical music starts to build on the car’s stereo system. “Hang on!”

You floor it.

Frankie is pretty sure you threw the car directly into second gear, screaming down the long side of the parking lot before executing a perfect pendulum turn around one of the light poles. Whipping the rear of the car around before accelerating towards the middle of the lot and pulling the e-brake briefly, deftly maneuvering the steering wheel before stomping on the gas. Your car dances with you in beautiful arcing donuts. Exiting the last revolution, you rev the engine, before charging towards another light pole at the far end of the parking lot. The tires squeal as you drift around the light pole and floor it again. Frankie’s gripping the oh-shit bar with his right hand as his left presses into the roof of the car. He can’t even let out a yelp as you punch the gas and the air out of his lungs.

He has enough of his wits about him to count the revolutions in the next set of donuts, an impressive 1440 degrees before power sliding around the perimeter of the parking lot for good measure. It suddenly occurred to him why you had red tape marking the 12 o'clock on your steering wheel. You finally drift the car to a stop in the middle of the lot.

You look over and grin at Frankie, looking far too much like a Benny grin, before asking him, “How ya feeling now, baby?” You reach over to take a sip of your coffee, not a drop spilled in the chaos. You eye him with such innocence as if you didn't just pull the ridiculous stunt you just did.

“Uh…” Frankie lets out a hiccuped laugh, still clutching the grab handle, slowly lowering his left hand from the roof. Adrenaline and caffeine coursing through his body, fizzing and sparking up his esophagus that escapes into a giggle?!? Perhaps six shots of espresso was a bit excessive. He feels a slow smile spread across his face, grinning like a maniac back at you, surprised, amused, touched at your antics to cheer him up.

“Better,” he punches, all air and no menace, trying to hold in more unruly giggles.

“Hmm, that's a no,” you smirk at him before pedaling the gas a few times, looking for any sign he wanted you to stop. When he continues grinning at you, you throw the car in reverse, dancing with the e-brake, clutch, and gas pedal, whipping donuts in reverse, once, twice, before throwing it into first and gunning it to drift figure eights around the light posts. The car slips and slides across the wet pavement, the smell of rubber and rain thick in the air, as you maneuver the car with absolute focus and control.

Frankie’s better prepared this time, enough to appreciate your agility and skill as you work, dance really, with your car. It is sort of like a dance, Vivaldi’s music swirling up and up, crescendoing, as you spin the car faster and faster. He lets out a whoop and you smile, alert eyes on the road, before letting one out yourself. As the song crests and falls, you powerslide the car around a light pole and cruise to a stop, allowing the car to idle, breathing heavily from wrangling all that torque and excitement.

“Better?” You glance at him again, eyes playful and sweet.

He grins wide this time, “Yeah, baby, much better. Always better with you.”

You reach out and slide your warm hand into his, squeezing lightly. “Good.” You pause for a moment before adding quietly, “Thanks for trusting me.”

“You know what would make it even better?” He smirks, dimples dancing, eyes bright again.

“What’s that?”

“Let me drive.”

You jerk your hand back from his and playfully shove him, “FRANCISCO MORALES. Blue is MY baby. Only I get spin her like this.”

Frankie knows better, but he presses you anyway with pouty lips and puppy dog eyes.

“Absolutely not, Morales. Maybe, maaaybe after we’ve celebrated our 5th wedding anniversary, THEN you can drive her.” Your eyes widen in panic at the slip of the word wedding. You hadn’t talked about the M word yet.

Frankie furrows his brows in mock seriousness and he can see your panic rise, worried he may have taken it the wrong way.

“How about after the honeymoon?” he negotiates, his voice like a purr. He knows what he's doing. You release a nervous giggle that sets Frankie off, laughter bubbling up from his throat until you’re both cackling with tears until one of you snorts. It was definitely you.

“First anniversary,” you giggle back, hiccuping and wiping away happy tears.

“Deal.”

You shake on it, but instead of releasing your hand, he pulls you in closer for an espresso-laced kiss.

When he finally pulls back, cupping your chin between his thumb and index finger, your soft eyes search him before asking, “You really feel better?”

“Yeah.” He offers a warm, touched smile. He tilts your chin up to him as he presses one more chaste kiss on your lips.

“Wanna dance one more time before we go home?” You arch one eyebrow, one hand on the steering wheel, one hand on the shifter.

Home.

“Hell yeah,” Frankie grins back at you. He thinks maybe you have an inkling, and know how everything is better in his life when you’re there. He’s already home. You’re his home.

Frankie hits play on your music app. As Vivaldi resumes over the speakers you launch Blue down the parking lot, full throttle, tires screaming, a blue streak of rubber and rain.

End Note: The song Sweets puts on is Vivaldi's Winter from The Four Seasons. She hits the gas at the 0:40 mark.

Example of Pendulum Turn Handbrake Turning in Rally Driving

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[ladamedusoif]

Coming Home (Dave York x F!Wife Reader)

A Merry Fic-Mas - December 20

Part of A Merry Fic-Mas: A Pedro Boys Holiday Fic Calendar - click for masterlist!

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Pairing: Dave York x F!Wife Reader

Word Count: 2000

Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)

Warnings: No use of Y/N; no physical description of the reader; reader is Dave’s wife; loose canon (implied changing to end of Equalizer 2, justice 4 Dave); soft!Dave; oral sex (M and F receiving); facesitting; unprotected PiV sex; mild breeding kink; reader is on birth control (not discussed); dirty talk

A/N: Despite having been in the Pit for some time, this is my first Dave story and, well… things escalated. I’m a sucker for soft!Dave (go read @wildemaven’s gorgeous Holi-Dave stories!!) and for the idea that this man just fucking loves his wife/partner. In this story you can choose to read the wife as Carol, or a second wife - whatever you prefer.

He makes his way through baggage claim quickly, expertly dodging the crowds of people clustered around the carousels looking for their luggage. The airport is decorated for the holidays, but Dave pays no attention to the illuminated Christmas trees atop each baggage belt, nor to the animatronic Santa Claus and elves greeting passengers in the arrivals hall.

Experience has taught him that a carry-on is preferable in most circumstances. Travel light, travel smart, and save valuable time at each end. He takes a strange pride in knowing that he’s back at his car before most of the people on his flight have even begun to identify their bags.

Dave is tired: physically, mentally, emotionally. He has started to wonder how much longer he can do this for: the time apart, the unspoken agreement not to discuss the other side of his work at home, the fact that - while you know the broad contours of what he does beyond the DIA, and probably more details than he’d like - he has to be incredibly careful with what he says, to avoid the possibility of you becoming an accomplice in the eyes of the law.

He starts the car, swings by the drive-thru just on the way out of the airport campus to pick up a coffee and some donuts, and then - finally - gets on the road.

Dave York needs to go home. He needs you.

***

It’s still very early when he pulls into the driveway, the sky as yet untouched by the brightness of the coming day. Dave lets himself in and drops his bag in the hallway, taking off his shoes and treading carefully as he makes his way upstairs, lest he wake the girls.

He gingerly opens the door of your bedroom and tiptoes inside. You are still asleep, your back to the door, nestled into the pillows and duvet. Soft, warm, and safe.

You have always been his safe place, his comfort. He longs for your softness, your warmth, the way he feels like nothing and no one on earth could ever touch him when he’s buried inside you.

Still fully clothed, he climbs into bed beside you and wraps an arm around you from behind, kissing your neck, your shoulders, and the skin of your upper back, exposed by your slip nightdress.

It doesn’t take long before you’re woken by Dave’s mouth seeking out every inch of your upper body. You turn to face him.

“Hi, my love. You’re home. Aren’t you early?”

Dave caresses your waist and hips, dark eyes looking at you with pure longing. “Only by a day. I just wanted to come home as soon as I could.” He leans down and sucks on your neck, making you writhe and whine with pleasure. “I wanted to come home to you.”

You hum with satisfaction and begin to unbutton his shirt, fingers working their way down towards the waistband of his pants. “That so?”

Your husband kisses you deeply, greedily, hard as you undress him, his tongue seeking entrance to your mouth and exploring it like it’s the first time.

He kicks off his dress pants and shucks off his shirt and under vest. You take in the sight of him, wearing only his black boxer briefs: his impossibly broad shoulders, his soft but solid tummy, the strength of his arms and his thighs, his beautiful face.

Your Dave.

The wetness is already starting to pool between your legs.

You straddle him, feeling his hard cock brush against your pussy as you hitch up your chemise. Dave reaches for you, hands gripping your thighs.

“Let me welcome you home properly, Mr York.”

His eyes widen as you peel off your nightdress and fling it into a corner of the room, leaving you completely bare and astride him. You lean forward, trailing your mouth down his chest and tummy. Dave pants and moans with pleasure, hips bucking a little and creating delicious friction against your clit as you work your way down his body.

You palm his cock, still inside his boxers, before carefully tugging them down. His dick springs free: hard, thick, heavy. Perfect.

Dave looks down at you and quirks an eyebrow. “You got plans, Mrs York?”

“Mmmm.” Your tongue flits across your lips, as if you’re admiring a delicious meal. “I got plans. But they’re gonna have to be quiet, Mr York, unless you want two little girls interrupting them.”

Dave chuckles and lowers his voice. And then he feels you. Tongue licking a stripe up the length of his cock, before playfully lapping at the base. The wet plumpness of your lips around the head, gently sucking on his erect cock and swirling your tongue and taking him inch by inch into your mouth as you hollow your cheeks.

“Fuck…fuck. You’re fucking incredible, baby.”

You smile to yourself at his praise. “I like giving my husband head, what can I say?”

Dave lets out a half-chuckle, half-groan as you work his dick with your hand, tipping him closer to the edge. It’s too soon. Too quick. He doesn’t want to come in your mouth, one way or another.

He motions with his head and you release his cock with a parting stroke.

“I need to taste you, baby,” he murmurs, already looking somewhat wrecked. “Get up here. Sit on my face, will you?”

You feel a little uncertain. It’s been a while since you’ve done this - sitting on his face, that is. Dave loves eating your pussy. But this… this is less frequent.

“Are you sure, baby?”

He looks at you in disbelief. “Never been more sure of anything. And do not say anything about your body or your weight. You’re fucking perfect. I need you, need to take you.”

Dave’s eyes are dark with lust, but not without that certain softness only you and the girls ever really see. Your heart swells at the sight and you shift forward to straddle your husband’s face, Dave carefully holding you in position and urging you down so that he can really taste and smell your sex.

“There’s only one condition,” Dave murmurs.

“Oh?”

“You’re going to have to be really quiet for me, too.”

Easier said than done when you have those lips and that tongue taking you apart with enthusiastic precision. Dave grunts and moans softly into your cunt as his mouth forms a tight seal around your folds, tongue flicking across your clit over and over as you grip the headboard with one hand and hold the other firmly across your mouth to stifle your cries.

He breaks away for a moment to slide a couple of fingers inside you before resuming his work, tongue pressing deliciously on your clit while his thick fingers fuck you, finding the sensitive spot he knows will trigger your release.

“C’mon, baby,” he groans, voice muffled between your soft thighs. “You’re so fuckin’ close.”

He can feel your pussy fluttering and tightening around his fingers, feel the wetness running onto his hand as he gets you off. You’re teetering on the edge - and come hard, all over his mouth and nose, screaming his name into the palm of your hand.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” Dave purrs as you catch your breath, sitting up to caress and kiss your breasts as he moves you over and off him, onto your back. He grabs handfuls of you as his mouth roams all over your naked body, hips rutting against you and hard cock pressed against your mound. “I missed you. Missed your taste.”

“You going to fuck me, David?” Your voice is hushed, breathless, ragged: still boneless and taken apart, needing him to put you back together.

Dave’s dark eyes sparkle as he reaches down and spreads your legs wide. He gazes at your soaked pussy, puffy and ready for him, and smiles at the sheer mess he’s already made of you.

“I’m going to fuck you hard, babe. You tell me if it’s too much, okay? Just fucking want you. Fucking need you.”

You whine with arousal, affirm his instructions, and he shifts forward, one hand stroking his cock. He parts your folds with the other as he lines himself up to take you for the umpteenth time. Even so, the stretch of him as he enters you always makes you catch your breath a little.

Dave’s broad body hovers over yours as he bottoms out with a hiss, desperately trying not to make too much noise. “Jesus. You…fuck.”

You wrap your arms around his broad back and focus for a moment on the feeling of your husband stretching you, filling you, having you. “What is it, baby?” Your voice is a sultry whisper and it goes straight to Dave’s cock.

He’s barely holding it together. “Your…fuck, your p-pussy.”

“It’s all yours, baby. Feel how tight and wet I am for you - you fuckin’ love that, don’t you?”

“Gonna fuck you now,” Dave whines, unable to hold on any more. He starts slowly but the warm, delicious wetness of your cunt begs him to speed up, to build up to a more intense rhythm.

You forget yourself and whine, prompting him to bring his hand to your mouth. It only serves to stimulate you further as your back arches off the mattress.

“Want to hear you talk to me, babe,” Dave whispers, hips snapping as he fucks you harder and faster. “Quietly. But talk to me. Tell me.”

He loves dirty talk. You’re only too happy to oblige.

“Been missing this dick, baby. Missed you taking me like this - filling me up and fucking me so well.”

Dave’s expression and ragged breathing makes you sceptical he’ll last as long as he usually does. “Fuck. You touch yourself while I was away?”

You bite your lip to hold back a moan. “Yeah, I did,” you whisper, “Made myself come thinking about you, thinking about what you do to me. Thinking about your big cock, stretching me like this.”

He buries himself against your chest to disguise his cry as he fucks you like a man possessed. Your bedroom is taken over by the quiet soundscape of lovemaking: skin on skin, ragged breathing and muffled whines, creaking bed frame, and the lewd sound of your wetness.

“Been thinking the whole time about coming in you,” Dave mutters quietly as he pulls out briefly, turns you into your side, lifts up your leg, and thrusts back into you with ease. “Fucked my fist thinking about it, wishing I was filling you.”

He holds your belly with one hand and grabs your tit with another, bringing his mouth against your neck and shoulder and biting the delicate skin there as you whine into a pillow.

“Come in me, Dave. Fucking fill me up.”

He grunts in your ear as he drops a hand to your clit and traces tight circles over the swollen bud, holding you tight to him as you cry out. “Want to fill you until it takes,” Dave hisses, his rhythm starting to stutter and fall apart as he nears his release. “Fuck you over and over and over, give you another baby.”

You press your face into the mattress as you scream his name, coming undone on his cock.

“You want me to make you a mama again, babe?”

That does it. You come so hard it feels like you might pass out, and the throbbing of your pussy is enough to tip your husband over the edge, too. Dave comes with a moan that’s muffled by the soft skin of your upper back as he cries out your name and fills you with his spend.

***

The sun is up as you tiptoe back to bed from your en-suite bathroom, discarding your light silk robe as you nestle, naked, back into bed beside your beloved.

Dave pulls you close, humming contentedly as you rest your head on his warm chest and idly rub his soft tummy.

“Thank you for coming home early,” you murmur, eyes closing.

He holds you close and kisses your forehead. “I needed to come home,” he whispers. “Needed to get back to you. You’re my home, baby.”

[yet-another-haven-of-dollya]

Do you/Lya/Lyah have any opinion on Avery? I don't think I've ever seen him come up on the blog before.

Right right, of course...

Personally, I feel Avery and the Great Hawk are the two most "lack of content" LIs. I don't know man, I just think Avery has so much potential, their social position, their status, how they have so much money, are they involved in the town's crime system, do they know about the UB or UF and if yes do they benefit from those?... So many questions and yet I can't seem to find answers in the game, at least with just the basic level of a perfect prized sugar baby that goes on a date with them once every week.

I know maybe Vrel had answered those questions somewhere on their blog, but that does not count. I want in-game content and the sole Cafe grand opening event is not enough. Avery has so much potential, I need to emphasize it one more time, and, if I could be so bold as to assume, by getting closer to them, PC can have more opportunities to discover the Town's government system. Big company? Fucking hell they can have a fucking helicopter to come to pick PC up from school, lol show off. Inside influential? Relationship with Quinn? Bla bla economic and political stuffs.

What I mean is, I guess, yeah pirate and Island sound nice, and yeah more religious mysteries and rank-climbing on the Temple server are nice too, minus we still can't fuck Jordan,... But I'm still quizzical at the political system of the town and how they decided to make Avery so unappealing... I will elaborate more about this later since my PCs have different opinions about Avery.

Even if the devs aren't planning on getting too deep into the political or economic sides, maybe I could at least expect something more... emotion-related kind of development? What's in there for me if I don't want the money, but to get closer to Avery and be an actual soulmate-lover-partner? If Avery is only there to be an emergency ATM then they don't necessarily need to be a LI?? What kind of "love interest" can make you stay so uninterested and emotionally detached like Avery? Or is that what actually is meant to be in a relationship with a middle-aged successful businessperson? Okay? If that's so I guess I placed my hope too high. Sorry Avery to me you'll be the first one out if this is a dating game show if you keep up that husband-who-going-for-business-trips-all-year-long-and-getting-cucked-because-the-wife-he-left-home-is-fucking-horny attidude.

Okay now that some of my bitching is over (lol not I can bitch forever) let's proceed on how my PCs see Avery through their POV.

Lya basically doesn't even know he exists. Mind you, her early game phase was confusing, she can't remember just some man she met only once at the Park? And because of the game mechanics, she only grew more and more confused because why the fuck does a man she had never spent time with one day just get out of his car and demand she get in or get beaten?? "I never knew you??" she thought to herself as she frantically reloaded the save file to go in another direction.

Then she came across the social tab only to see "Avery thinks you're insolent." in a tab she never really paid any attention to. No love, just 100% Lust, that's normal, the barbarian in the forest is the same. But there's another scary-looking icon - 100% rage. What? What did I do? He looked like any random man in a car, randomly pulled at her, and demanded an encounter. She never wants a car fuck, she hates car smell, she doesn't even get on a bus if not strictly needed even so she always... Oooooh, she sees, he's special, he has a place in the higher-up Social tabs, among other certain boys at school, this Avery person is a Love Interest, and she fucked up her potential relationship with him even before it started, without her knowing.

Oh well, whatever, he has a fucking "Rage" stat, he seems violent and has angry issues, so he's not a good person, like Robin or Sydney, and fuck it if he looks old enough to be her parent if she ever had one? Judging by his expensive suit and car, he's rich, so if he's so bitchless to the point of beating a young orphan because she refuses him, he can go fuck himself. Lya had more than enough to worry about.

But then stuff happened. The trauma Chobi was spat out, Whitney tried selling her, she saved him only to continue to be bully. She snapped. Lya's first phase officially ended, and she approached her second phase - the depressed phase. She sold Whitney, got Kylar's ass into prison, and then dismissed Avery too, and that's the end of the story. Even now, looking back, she has no regret. She never knows Avery.

Lyah has a more lenient view of fem Avery. He was born with Lya's experience and his creator's - my wish to explore more potential of the world so his attitude toward the LIs is more laid back. He knows how to benefit from them and handle them.

He sees Avery as a lonely older woman and is willing to accompany her as a rented escort, no more no less. And if she wants more sexual things, she'll pay higher, so there's no problem, he's willing to go with her flow. The only drawback of going on dates with Avery is he cannot sleep in Robin's bed those nights. But that's something he can work with, he needs to visit the Hawk sometimes anyway.

If you ask him what he thinks of Avery, Lyah will answer with something like: "I feel kinda sorry for her. She must have been too focused on her career when she was younger and now she's awkward with her own love life. Gaining that much power and wealth in this town as a woman is not an easy task, and she's willing to pay to have some little company, fair and square, is that how I should put it?."

Then he would stop to think a little, and chuckle: "Lucky me, never had a real "parental figure", otherwise it would be pretty awkward to be seen with her, I admit. But, I know as long as I act professionally she won't get mad and target Robin. Also even if she does she won't cause nearly as much trouble as Kylar so I don't see any problem going out with her once every week."

[nickssidewitch]

hi, I see the conversation happening on your blog about the triplets language/attitude towards women and it’s actually something i’ve been struggling with lately. i’m sorry in advance for how long this is.

I’m 24, became a fan of the triplets over a year ago and i’m starting to not be a fan anymore. They’re genuinely pissing me off lately and it’s because of how casually misogynistic they are. I understand you dont agree but i do think you’re giving them the benefit of the doubt because you admire them and giving them excuses. “we know they’re not sexist” we dont know that actually. and even if they have moments of respect for women it doesnt erase the thousands of times they haven’t.

it’s one thing to casually use the word bitch, it’s can be funny and add extra passion to a joke, it’s another thing to use it aggressively as a threat. they often do that. and it’s often nick. nick is one of those gay men who thinks they can’t be misogynistic because being gay automatically doesn’t make them a threat to women or something, it’s sadly something a lot of gay men fall into, but they are still men being misogynistic. it’s not excusable because it’s “part of gay culture”, i know a lot of gay men who would call nick out on his sexism so quickly lol. nick often aggressively yells at women and threatens violence against them. i know he’s not serious or whatever excuse fans give him, it’s not funny to me. he once said, all because a women told matt he looked 13, “im gonna stab that fucking bitch in the fucking face”. that’s insanely violent and not funny? why are you, a man, saying you’re gonna be violent towards a women? or when that women honked at them, nick screamed at her and called her a bitch so aggressively with full anger… and they all thought it was so funny. it’s funny to them to get mad at women and yell at them and call them bitches?

they also all have severe anger issues they need to go to therapy for btw. and fans thinking it’s hot when they throw tempter tantrums is wild to me. adults shouldn’t be just randomly punching things. you do that when you’re a kid and don’t know how to control emotions yet. “they’re siblings they fight” i know, i have 3 other siblings… you stop acting the way they do when you’re teenagers lol.

they also judge women to an insane degree. and not men at all. in one vlog they sat in their car and just decided to judge what women were wearing as they walked by. literally why do you have opinions on what women wear, no one asked. i’ve never seen a women on the side of the road and had an opinion on what she chose to wear that day. it’s giving high school bully like no one asked you to just insult women’s clothes. they don’t care what you think and men shouldn’t care what women wear. “her pants are so ugly” “yeah her pants are trash” do you wanna tell her? should we let the police know the sturniolos don’t like her pants? they’re just so negative about everything women do and their latest car video… legitimately couldn’t even watch it. every single story/complaint they made was about a women. literally every single one. “oh this girl did this crazy thing” (they also love to call women crazy) and we all know the infamous wedding podcast clip, of them completely invalidating their future wife’s emotions and not caring. they love to complain about women, judge women, threaten and be aggressive towards women. it’s not funny. they have so many red flags. again i’m sorry for the length, i’ve just been thinking about this all month and needed to get it off my chest.

😭😭 I totally see your points, but again, majority of this is so unserious. 🤷🏾‍♀️

The joke about stabbing the cashier definitely wasn’t funny.

But, everything else are such reaches 😭🤍

I respect your opinions, because if things don’t sit right with you, then they just don’t sit right with you, which is valid! You don’t have to be a fan if those things throw you off! It’s definitely understandable. 🙌🏾🤍

I personally just think some of these are reaches. And no, I’m not giving them the benefit of the doubt. I’m just not taking them seriously 😭🤷🏾‍♀️

[sailorsplatoon]

Chapter 8 is here! I was pretty excited to post this one. If you've been following my blog, you'll get to see a few familiar names in this chapter that haven't shown up in the fic until now!

First (prologue)

Previous

Next

Read it on ao3!

(Fanfic under cut)

The door slowly creaked open as Four made their way inside. As usual, there were people everywhere. When Four entered, every head turned towards them. 

“I’m home,” they said, as if asking a question.

A roar of elated shouts filled the room as every member of Four’s family rushed over to hug them as once.

“My baby is home! Where were you?”

“Are you alright? We missed you so much.”

“What are these?” Aunt Shina noticed Four’s scars immediately. 

“Don’t worry, I’m okay. There just some scars—” Four’s voice was drowned out by the worried shouts that followed. “I’m okay now, really. Its a long story…”

“Hey, Four, I know you wanted to do a big reveal thing but Deep Cut is outside vandalizing your car.” Acht poked their head through the door.

“They’re what!? How do you know!?”

“They’re streaming it. People are trashing both of us in the live chat. I think they’ve convinced their fans that we have a rivalry with them.” Acht held up their phone, on the screen was Shiver and Frye destroying Four’s car and a very worried Big Man in the background.

“Okay I’m going to go deal with them, while I’m gone you guys get to know each other. Acht, this is my family. Family, this is Acht, my partner. Okay I’ll be back soon bye!” Four rushed out the door.

Acht could feel everyone’s eyes on them.

“Partner?” A woman asked, who they assumed was one of Four’s moms.

“Yes.” They shifted around awkwardly. “It’s nice to meet you all.”

“Come on in. My name’s Nancy, I’m Four’s mom. This is my wife, Alex.” A different woman said, gesturing to the first one as she introduced her. She stepped to the side to let Acht in. “Then there’s my sister Fran and her son Ash, my other sister Artemis, her wife Luna, and their kids Wanda, Ember, Raine, and Jace, Alex’s sibling Birch and their child Kai, her sister Quinn and her kids Vi, Silvia, and Rini, and Alex’s other sister Shina.” Nancy introduced everyone in the family at once, leaving Acht to memorize all their names as if studying for a quiz. She showed Acht to a sitting area with enough cushions for everyone in the family and more. As Acht sat down, they felt like they were on trial.

“So, tell us about how you and Four met.” Nancy sat across from them.

“And maybe how they got all those scars?” Alex said sharply.

“I think that maybe they should be here for this conversation.” Acht was getting nervous. How were they supposed to explain everything to Four’s family on their own? Suddenly, they felt a set of small gentle hands picking theirs up. A young child had crawled over to them and was holding their hand in front of her face.

“Why are you green?” The kid asked.

“Uhh…” Acht didn’t know how to answer. How were they supposed to make sanitization kid friendly?

“Rini, come back over here.” Her mom— Quinn was her name— called her back over and she returned.

“That’s a good question, why are you green?” Alex narrowed her eyes. Acht felt like they were being interrogated. 

“Okay, Deep Cut’s gone but the car is in bad shape. It’s going to cost a ton in repairs.” Four strode in, not bothering to knock. They caught sight of the upset faces throughout the room. “Oh shoot what did you talk about without me.”

“Nothing. We’ve been waiting for you. What exactly happened while you were gone,” Alex said, fuming. Nancy put a hand on her arm to try and calm her down.

“Okay. Kids go play outside.” Four sighed.

“But we wanna know.” A different child spoke up now. Acht was pretty sure his name was Ash.

“I’ll explain it to you all later, but right now the adults need to talk privately, okay?”

“Okay!” With that, the children got up and rushed out the back door. It led to a huge yard adorned with swing sets and stick forts. They would be busy out there for a while.

Four found a seat next to Acht and looked around at the remaining people in the room. “Do you remember when I introduced you all to Captain and Eight? And how we talked about the Deepsea Metro? And sanitization?” Realizing that Four was starting with their story, Acht tensed. Four grabbed their hand, squeezing it tight.

“Yes, why?” Another one of Four’s aunts replied, their name was Birch. 

“Well, that’s where Acht was before we met. They were sanitized. That’s why they look the way they do.”

“So they’re okay now?” Shina said slowly, cautiously.

“Oh yeah yeah yeah, absolutely. They still have some physical effects, but mentally they’re totally fine! It’s actually because of that project I was helping Marina with, the Memverse. It was made to help bring back the minds of sanitized octolings.” Four squeezed Acht’s hand harder, not ready to talk about the Memverse again. Acht squeezed back.

“So what happened to you?” Alex asked. Her words were harsh, but it was because she cared.

Four took a deep breath and began. “When I went into the Memverse for a beta test, there was a glitch in the code that caused a being to be formed called Order. Well, technically Smollusk but Order when I met it. But that’s not important. It did this thing called greyscaling to me. What that means is it took away my memories, my thoughts, and my emotions so that it could use me to fight.” Four’s words grew shaky. They felt tears burning behind their eyes. Acht let go of their hand and wrapped their arm around them. “Thank you,” they muttered. “Eight, Acht, Pearl, and Marina were able to save me. They had me climb the Spire of Order— the thing in the Memverse that allows sanitized octolings to regain their memories— and it worked for me too. I met Acht in the memverse while I was still greyscaled. As I regained my memories, I started to realize how amazing they are. They are one of the biggest reasons I’m even here right now.” Four’s tone was softer now, it’s shakiness nonexistent. Acht blushed at their kind words.

“You make it sound like you didn’t do any work to regain your memories. You fought hard. And it’s because of you that I’m even out of the metro.” Acht pulled Four closer.

“And what about the scars?” Nancy asked.

“Oh, we don’t actually know. Marina’s current theory is that because I was in the Memverse for so long, it caused my headset to overheat and burn me. But I’ll be alright, you all really don’t need to worry about me!” Four waved off their family’s concern.

“We’re going to worry about you. But right now I’m just glad you’re home safe,” Shina said.

“Should I go call the kids back in? They’re going to want to play with you, Four.” Birch stood up, walking over to the door.

“Ooh I’ve missed them so much!” Four joined them, dragging Acht close behind.

“I don’t think I like that Acht person,” Alex muttered to Nancy, out of earshot of everyone else. “I’m worried Four is just so attached to them because they were the first person they met after a traumatic experience.”

“I was thinking the same thing. We’ll make sure to talk with Four about it later,” Nancy muttered back.

Every child ran inside at once, practically tackling Four. They all had a million questions, only a small portion of which actually had to do with the topic at hand. Four introduced Acht to each child individually, giving them a refresher on their names. The two ended up being pulled in different directions. Acht was dragged into a room full of instruments by a group of older teens who, upon learning they made music, wanted their help with their band. Four was called over by Jace to see all the stuff he got for his birthday. They felt so bad about missing it, and decided to make it up to him by letting him tell them everything about how it went. They’d buy him an amazing gift later.

“And I got this cool Super Squid action figure, oh and I also got this!” He ran into a corner and unplugged something. Four couldn’t see it yet from where they sat. “Mom got it for me. It’s a VR headset, so you can play all kinds of games on it!”

Four’s hearts sank into their stomach. It was clearly a different headset than what they had used, but it just felt so similar. The memories of that digital world bubbled in their mind. They couldn’t keep the worst ones from resurfacing. “That’s really cool.” Their voice cracked. “You can tell me more about it in a minute, I have to go to the bathroom.” They stood up and ran to the restroom as fast as they could. They refused let their cousins see what they feared was about to happen to them.

****

Acht felt a light buzz in their pocket just as the kids stopped playing. 

“Did you like it?” One of them asked with enthusiasm.

“Yeah, it was amazing. I’m impressed by how good you all are already. Sorry, I think I got a text and I have to make sure it’s not something important,” they said, whipping out their phone. Their eyes widened when they saw the message. It was from Four.

“I need you.” That was all it said. Not good.

“I’ll be right back.” Acht stood up and walked out the door, trying to stay calm.

“Acht, are you alright?” Nancy asked, seeing Acht wandering around the house aimlessly.

“Where’s Four?”

“The bathroom. Why?”

“I think they’re in trouble.” Acht ran down the hall to where they prayed the bathroom would be. They didn’t understand the layout of the house at all and were just hoping they weren’t about to run straight into a closet.

“In the bathroom?” Nancy called back, confused. She ran after Acht, the other family members following close behind.

Acht rushed to the door, now certain they had found the right room. They practically rammed their body into it when they knocked. “Four, are you alright?” 

No answer.

“They’re an adult they can handle themself in the bathroom,” Alex remarked.

Acht ignored her comment. “Four if you don’t answer me I’m going to assume you’re not okay and come inside.” 

Still no answer.

Acht ripped open the door, thankful that it wasn’t locked because they certainly would have knocked it down if necessary. Four was crouched on the ground, staring at nothing, their face blank.

“Shit it happened again. Get the kids out of here, they don’t need to see Four like this,” Acht instructed, joining Four on the floor and kneeling down in front of them. Birch led the children into a different room.

“What’s happening to them?!” Nancy asked, frantic.

“They’ve lost control.” Acht gently placed their hands on Four’s shoulders, ignoring the worried shouts from Four’s family. They didn’t have time to explain. They had to help their partner. “Hey Four,” they spoke soft and calm. “I know you can hear me in there. We’re going to get through this just like we did last time, okay? Just focus on my hands, and my voice, and your breathing. Ready, we’re going to breathe together. In…” they took a deep breath, waiting for Four to take one in return. They did not. Acht kept going. “Out… again in… out… in…”

Four suddenly inhaled sharply, as if gasping for air after nearly drowning. The life returned to their face and tears began to form in their eyes. “Acht…” they squeaked. 

“Good morning, gorgeous.” Acht choked. They wrapped their arms around Four, pulling them into a hug as they began to sob. “It’s okay. I’m here for you. You’re safe,” Acht whispered as Four bawled into their shoulder. 

Four’s family watched from the doorway, unsure of wether or not they should go in. Noticing their hesitation, Four reached out their arm to them as if to say, “Please come, I need you all right now.” They each slowly made their way over, pulling both them and Acht into a hug.

Acht hadn’t noticed when Four’s relatives walked over, they were too focused on Four. But they certainly felt each of them joining in their embrace. And was was amazing was that they didn’t just hug Four. They wrapped their arms around Acht too. 

“Thank you for working so hard to protect them,” Alex whispered into Acht’s ear. “I’m sorry I judged you so harshly. Four cares about you, and it’s clear you care about them. As far as I’m concerned, you’re a part of the family now.”

Acht smiled wide. They hadn’t really had a family since being sanitized. And now, they got one of the best ones.

Four’s sobs slowly died down. While the method wasn’t great, they were still able to get their family to like Acht. This was certainly a success.

[lawsend]

Murder at Vista Heights Chapter 2

Series: Law’s End

Episode 1: Murder at Vista Heights

Fandom: The Royal Romance (loosely, there’s not much canon in here).

Pairings: None yet

Word Count: 2,622

Rating: MA

Warnings for series: adult themes, any given chapter may contain murder, violence, language, drinking, drug use, etc.

My other stuff can be found on my main blog @angelasscribbles here is the Master List.

They pulled up in front of a row of buildings. Walker and Son Investigations sat near the middle of the block; the name emblazoned on a plate glass window that overlooked the street. A dry cleaner on one side, a coffee shop on the other.

“Can you believe I found parking on the street?” Riley gloated as she parked the Tahoe at the curb.

“I’m pretty sure this is tow away zone, Riley…”

“It’s fine, we won’t be in there that long!”

Max heaved a long-suffering sigh, knowing from experience it was fruitless to argue with her when she was hot on the trail of a story. She became focused to the point of being obsessed, stubborn, pigheaded, and bossy.

Not that he didn’t like the bossy part.

She also became excited, exhilarated, and spontaneous. Her eyes sparkled and her enthusiasm was contagious. Despite the abuse and neglect of his precious Estelle, he enjoyed her single-minded determination very much. His adventures with her were worth the risks to his car.

A dark-haired woman looked up from her desk when the bell tinkled as they entered the tiny office. “Welcome to Walker and Son Investigations, how may I help you today?”

Max peered around Riley, “Hey, Savannah!”

“Oh, hi Max!” her face lit up in recognition, “What are you doing here today? Who’s your friend?”

“This is Riley. We’re looking for Drake. Is he in?” Max’s eyes scanned the room, taking in the other three desks in the room, all empty.  

“Yeah, he’s in the back, moving boxes of files into storage,” She lifted her head and raised her voice, “Drake!”

It took a minute but a man appeared from the hallway at the back of the office, “Do you really have to scream like that? You could have just-Oh! Shit, sorry! Didn’t realize we had company!” He wiped his hands quickly on his pants to get rid of the dust and extended one toward Riley, “Drake Walker, PI, at your service! And you are?”

Riley shook his hand as she took in his appearance. He looked to be in his late twenties to early thirties, tall, broad-shouldered, definitely worked out, with chestnut hair that hung just below his ears. His eyes were the color of gold-flecked copper as they bore into her, and his touch sent electricity jolting down her arm. She certainly wouldn’t kick him out of her bed.

“Riley Brooks, I was hoping I could ask you a few questions.”

“Sure,” he grinned at her as he motioned to his desk, “Have a seat. So, what do you need?” He asked as he settled into his chair across the desk from her and Max, “Cheating husband? Lost dog? Background check on a new boyfriend?”

“No, nothing like that,” she laughed.

He leaned forward with a smirk, “So you’re single?”

“I am. Why do you ask?”

“I find it hard to believe that a woman with your…” his eyes dipped down her body and back up, “attributes is single.”

She rewarded him with a coy smile, “I could say the same about you.”

“Maybe we could discuss it over dinner sometime?”

The grin on Riley’s face broadened but Max leaned forward, clearing his throat, “Yeah, she’s too focused on her career for serious dating. Could we get back to the subject?”

Drake barely glanced at Max before asking Riley, “What’s the subject?”

“What do you know about Katie Sloan?”

Drake turned his head to give Max a suspicious look before returning his gaze to Riley, “Who’s that?”

“The wife of Sloane Enterprises CEO, William Sloan.”

Shooting an accusing glare at Max, Drake snapped, “What makes you think I would know anything about her?”

“Because you had me follow her!” Max blurted out.

This time the look Drake gave him was murderous, “Have you ever heard of client confidentiality Beaumont? What the fuck?”

“I….” Max’s shifted nervously in his seat, “Not really…”

“Well, if I did pay you to follow someone, then you’re bound by the same standards I am with regard to client privacy!”

“No one told me that!” Max gulped.

“Savannah!” Drake bellowed at his sister.

“What? I was rushed that day; I didn’t get a chance to cover everything. I sent him home with some paperwork.”

Drake heaved a long-suffering sigh as he muttered under his breath about being surrounded by incompetence before snapping at Max, “Did you read it?”

“No…” Max admitted, “It seemed pretty boring.”

Drake shook his head as he looked up at the ceiling as if asking God himself for guidance. After several deep breaths, he returned his attention to Riley, “Why are you asking questions about Katie Sloan?”

“Because Max photographed her with Trenton Hayes.”

“So?”

“So he’s dead. Someone just shot him.”

Drake froze for a moment, his face expressionless as he gazed at her. “That’s unfortunate for him, but I don’t know anything about it. What did you say you do for a living? You’re not a cop.”

“How do you know that?”

“I know. Now who are you really and why are asking so many questions about a homicide?”

“I’m an investigative journalist.”

“You’re a reporter?”

“Investigative journalist and true crime author.” She corrected him.

“Anything I’ve read?”

“I don’t know. Do you read true crime?”

“Not really.”

“Then I’m guessing not.”

“Well, Miss Brooks, sorry I couldn’t help you, but even if I theoretically hired Beaumont here to follow this Katie Sloan, I couldn’t tell you.” Drake pushed away from the desk and stood up.

Riley stood, but made no move to leave, “If you theoretically did hire him for that, what might be a theoretical reason?”

“Yeah, I’m not doing that.”

“What’s the harm in playing a game of theoreticals?”

“Nice try but I wouldn’t stay in business very long if I went around-“

“I’ll go to dinner with you!”

Drake froze again, “What?”

Max also froze, “What?”

Ignoring Max, she took a step closer to Drake, reaching out and adjusting the collar of his shirt, “I said, if you’ll indulge me in a game of theoreticals for a moment, I’ll go to dinner with you.”

“I….” Drake stood unmoving with his arms crossed over his chest as he fought an internal battle. He already knew what his father would say. And Savannah would probably rat him out if he did it.

Still. The girl was hot.

Max shook his head, “No, Riley, you don’t have to-“

“Shut the fuck up, Beaumont!” Drake finally moved as one hand shot out to strike Max in the chest. Eyes locked on the brunette bombshell in front of him, he licked his lips and then agreed, “Okay, but everything I say is just theoretical, right?”

 “Of course!” Riley fluttered her eyelashes for added effect then asked, “If you were theoretically following Katie Sloan, what would be the theoretical reason?”

“I can’t speculate on something like that, but I can tell you that the most common reason anyone hires a private detective is to catch a cheating spouse.”

“So, William Sloan thinks his wife is cheating on him?”

Drake shrugged, “Theoretically if he hired a PI, that might be why.”

Riley’s eyes widened, her head swiveling between Drake and Max, “Was she cheating with Trent? Because that would be motive!”

Drake held his arms up in front of him, “Whoa now! Don’t be jumping to conclusions! We have no proof of any cheating! And I’ll tell you this because it’s a matter of public record, but if you say the information came from me, I’ll deny it….” He leaned forward and lowered his voice even though they were the only ones in the office, other than his sister who sat watching the whole exchange with amused disbelief, “Trent Hayes and Katie Sloan used to be engaged.”

Riley’s eyes widened, “Oohhh, an ex-fiancée! That’s interesting! Why’d they break up?”

“You’re an investigative journalist, look it up. Shouldn’t be hard to find. She was a fucking heiress before she married the rich guy.”

“Right. So, society pages. Max-“

“Already on it!” He told her as his fingers flew over the keyboard of his smartphone, “Katie Vanderhilt, college graduation…..engagement announcement….inherits grandmother’s fortune….second engagement announcement….wedding to William Sloan….ah, here we go….the gossip page! Hmmm…..just an article saying she suddenly dumped Trent and went on a cruise….no reason given….speculation was that once she inherited all that money, she knew she could catch a bigger fish. Sorry, dead end.”

Riley turned her attention back to Drake, “Is there anything else that I should theoretically know?”

“Can’t think of anything,” he gave her a scorching look, “but if I come up with anything else, we can discuss it over dinner.”

“Absolutely!”

“Tonight at seven?”

“Sorry, can’t tonight.”

“Hey, we had a deal!”

“Yes, and I fully intend to live up to it, just not tonight. Here,” she handed him her card, “call me later and we’ll get it set up! Come on, Max, let’s go!”

“But-“ by the time he glanced up from the card, Riley and Max were already out the front door.

“Dad is going to eviscerate you,” Savannah told him gleefully.

“You could just not tell him…”

“In exchange for what?”

Drake’s head fell back with a sigh, “I’m not letting you drive my car, Sav!”

“Just for one night! It’s my high school reunion! Besides, if I tell Dad what you just did-“

“Fine! One night! But I swear to God, Sav if there’s one scratch on it when I get her back-“

“Oh, cool your jets, I know how to drive,” she turned her head to the plate glass window, “Your new girlfriend just talked her way out of a parking ticket.” 

“Did she now?”

“She did. And she’s parked in a tow-away zone too! You’re going to have to be careful with that one. I’m not sure you can handle her.”

“Shut up, Sav.”

Outside on the pavement, Riley climbed back into the driver’s seat of Max’s Tahoe, “See? I told you it wouldn’t get towed!”

Max shook his head ruefully, “Yeah, well, if that had been me talking to that cop, I would have gotten a ticket and gotten towed! I got to hand it to you….you always seem to get your way.”

“It’s a gift!” She laughed as she threw the car in gear and pulled out into traffic.

“Are you really going to go to dinner with Drake?”

“What?” She glanced at him and then back at the road, “Yeah, why not?”

“I don’t know….he doesn’t seem like your type.”

“Trust me, he’s my type! Besides, a deal is a deal!”

 “I guess,” Max thunked back against the seat with a heavy sigh, “Where are we going now?”

“Seventh precinct!”

“Why?”

“Because we have to tell Liam that William Sloan has a motive for murder!”

“Is that the only reason?”

“I mean….if we happen to stumble across some more information about the case while we’re there then so be it!”

“That’s more like it!” He grinned, his good mood returning at the promise of further adventure.

Built in the early 1900s, the seventh precinct stationhouse took up most of the city block that it sat on. Three stories above ground and two below, the many renovations it had endured over the years made it a labyrinth of hallways, stairwells, and a sometimes confusing mix of old architecture and new. The homicide division was located in a warren of offices on the second floor.

“I need to speak to Detective Rys, I have some information regarding a murder,” Riley told the desk sergeant as they entered the building.

“Second floor,” The officer waved his hand in the general direction of the one lone elevator.

“Thanks!” Riley chirped as she grabbed Max’s hand and drug him away from the elevator and toward the stairwell. Lowering her voice, she told him, “I don’t trust that thing! It creaks, groans, and shakes like it’s hanging on by a thread!”

“Yeah,” Max agreed with a backward glance at it as he allowed himself to be pulled up the stairs, “It probably hasn’t been inspected or maintained in a hundred years!”

“That would be a violation of the fire code,” Riley quipped, “How ironic since the 112 is right across the street!”

“Yeah, well…”

They exited the top of the stairs, made their way down a long hallway, took a right about two-thirds of the way down, and found themselves in a large, open area filled with desks, filing cabinets, and a few scattered couches. The wall to their left was covered from left to right in giant casement windows. Directly across from them were doors to private offices and to their right a myriad of doorways and hallways lead off to places unknown. A water cooler gurgled in the corner.

“Can I help you?” A tall, pretty redhead asked them.

Riley adopted her best professional stance, radiating that she had every right to be there as she replied, “Yes, I’m looking for Detective Rys. Have you seen him?”

“He’s around here somewhere, that’s his desk,” she pointed to one close to the windows, “I’m sure he’ll be with you in a moment. I’m Lilith,” she offered her hand.

Riley took it, “Nice to meet you, Lilith! I’m Riley. Are you a homicide detective?”

“No, just a sketch artist,” she smiled.

“Oh? Are you working on the Hayes case?”

“Miss Nevrakis!” a voice called across the room.

“Oh, that’s me, gotta go!” Lilith gave her an apologetic smile as she scurried over to a desk near the water cooler to talk to the man who had called her name and a nervous-looking woman standing next to him.

“Hey! That’s Liam’s boss!” Riley squeezed Max’s arm, “Aren’t you two related? Go see if you can get any information out of him!”

“I don’t think so, Riley. He doesn’t really like me….”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know, something about our family’s money being tainted and me taking it.”

“He doesn’t take any? No trust fund? Nothing?”

“Nope. Can’t you tell?”

She cocked her head to one side taking in the off-the-rack suit and shoes that had probably come from Mervyn’s or Sears. Bertrand Beaumont looked like every other police detective in the department. Eschewing the Beaumont money, he had risen to head of homicide on his own merits. A good twenty years older than Maxwell, he viewed his young cousin as irresponsible, frivolous, and entitled.

“Okay, fine. But that’s a little judgy. Not taking the money won’t wind back time and fix what your great-grandfather did.”

“That’s what I said!” People fell into two broad categories when they found out he was a Beaumont. They either judged him on his family’s history of having built its fortune from organized crime, or they wanted to use him for his money and family connections. Riley fell into neither of those categories. It was just another reason that he liked her.

“What are you two doing here?” Liam’s voice was so close behind her that she jumped.

Whirling to face him, Riley answered, “Looking for you!”

“I already told you that I’m not giving out confidential case information, Riley.”

“Well, then it’s lucky for you that I’m here to help you!”

“You’re here to help me?” Liam scoffed, “How?”

“I know someone that might have a motive for killing Trenton Hayes.”

Liam’s mouth fell open, “How the hell did you already find out the name of the vic? We haven’t issued any-“

“Detective Rys!” Bertrand’s voice boomed out as he strode across the room, clearly seething.

Confusion spilled across Liam’s features, “Yes sir?”

Bertrand waved a page from a sketchbook in the air, “Do you want to tell me why the main suspect in your murder case looks exactly like your brother?”

[sstan-hoe]

MASTERLIST NO. 2

⍣ ೋ TAGS | BLOGS | WEBSITE | AO3 | WATTPAD

⍣ ೋ TAGLIST | KINKTOBER | VALENTINE'S DAY EVENT| WIP's | NAVIGATION

you are responsible for the kind and amount of media you consume, therefore it is not my problem if you find something you don't like. While I appreciate if you are at least 16, I advice the majority of this blog as 18+

you do not have permission to copy, translate or post my writing on any other website/ app or anything — I do not own the rights to the character = this is for entertainment purposes only! which also means I write when I feel like it.

the rest of my characters and series are on navigation

-> series masterlist

Barber's Production — there is no real summary, these are all stand alone fics which are connected but you don't need to read all of them to understand the concept.

-> multiple!pornstars/multiple!reader | several one-shots | series | smut | angst | fluff

Show Me How — meeting him might be the best to ever happen to you. He showed you things you've never thought you'd try, he learned you to stand up for yourself and be confident. For Bucky Barnes you were an angel, a savior and maybe the one he's been searching for all his life.

-> ceo!bucky/baker!reader | series | smut | fluff | angst

The Devils Den — all you wanted was to go on vacation but your car didn't have the same idea. Almost breaking down in the middle of nowhere you luckily made it to a house with lights. A handsome stranger and his friends offer to help you. They're devilishly handsome…or almost demon like? Something about them entrances you.

-> multiple!incubus/one!reader | series | smut | fluff | angst

They Changed Me Forever — they wanted you, they enjoyed the hunt just as much as you enjoyed being chased. You didn't make it easy for them but it only prepared you that life with them wouldn't be easy.

-> mob!andy/mob!lloyd | series | smut | fluff | angst

Your Arms Are Home — steve and you split over a year ago, but still you end up in his bed most night, he was addiction. Then on the other side there was Bucky; Steve's bestfriend who is always there when you needed him and was the perfect uncle...you need them but one could be your ruin and the other your happy end. You couldn’t have both...or could you?

-> ex husband!dilf!steve/(uncle!)bucky | series | smut | fluff | angst

-> house of the dragon masterlist

Aemond Targaryen

Riding With the Dragon – Aemond wants you to ride with him on Vaghar, but you always avoid it until he makes a deal with you, you take a ride with him and in return he does the thing with the tongue you like so much

-> normal!aemond | one-shot | smut | fluff

Dancing with the Dragon ☆ – aemond doesn't like to dance, but for you, his wife he makes an exception...sometimes and today he decided not to, which leaves you to do the only right thing; make him jealous

-> normal!aemond | one-shot | fluff | smut

My King – Aegon fleed with success and now a new King is needed, Aemond is stepping up as King making you his Queen

-> king!aemond | one-shot | fluff

Be My Valentine

-> modern!aemond | drabble | fluff | event

Thankful for You

-> modern!aemond | drabble | fluff | event

Until all Waters Break

-> modern!aemond | drabble | smut

Paparazzi – life with aemond is always risky...but not just because of his status in society. No, more because he likes doing risky activities...

-> actor!aemond | drabble | smut | angst

The Death of a Prince — After the death of your grandsire, Viserys Targaryen, your relationship with Aemond was hanging on a thread. For you, he was a murderer. For him, you were a traitor.

-> normal!aemond | one-shot | angst | violence

Daemon Targaryen

Special Gift

-> normal!daemon | drabble | fluff | event

-> the last of us masterlist

Joel Miller

Thank God You're Pretty — you love joel, but god he can't cook. Meaning it's time that he learns a thing or two! However having a daughter who finds it quite amusing could make things difficult.

-> pre-outbreak!joel miller | one-shot | fluff

[xxx-sparkydemon-xxx]

My name is Ahmed Bakr, a Palestinian. I live in the Gaza Strip. My least wish is to save my wife and children (Neven, Khaled, Joan, Aida, and Musk) from certain death. I write these words and ask for your help. I do not know whether we will be able to survive. This is my last message to you as a human being and the story of my life and my family since the beginning of the war. My son (Khaled) is his age. (8) years old and suffers from enlarged liver diseases, infections, and anemia from contaminated food and water. We are unable to treat him, buy medicine for him, hold a baby no more than two months old, and I am unable to provide her with milk, pampers, or even supplies for small children. My children need food and treatment. We are deprived of the food we love. Our mental health is deteriorating and very destructive, and we need hygiene supplies in the tents. I was displaced from my home from the north to the south, to Khan Yunis, then to Rafah, and then to Nuseirat. I was injured by an occupation sniper while searching for a living for my children. I endured carrying water, searching for wood to light the fire, and bringing food for my children because there was no gas for long distances. Long, all day long, surrounded by devastation, bloody missiles and shattering shrapnel. We endured constant fear day and night for a whole year without any peace or comfort. I do not know where to take my children. Our lives are very painful and difficult, and every time we miraculously escape death, I want to help everyone who can help us, those with compassionate hearts. We live in the heat of tents and under the blazing sun. My house was completely demolished after years of effort and fatigue and building our house. Then, one night and one day, everything disappeared and my children’s room was completely burned and demolished. Even our car was not spared from the bombing, as we had all the wonderful means and tools. For the sake of a decent life, we started roasting our food over the fire despite the fatigue and heat. We are still standing despite the bombing, hunger, and severe shortages. We need your help. At this Save My Children event, we invite you to share our story with your friends and families with clarity and support. Your sensible words and prayers provide strength to endure these difficult circumstances... (Your donation) can make enough difference in our lives. We depend on your support and your standing by our side through this traditional ordeal, boxing, to restore hope and safety to Hayat and her family. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for considering my application. Your support and donation are very important to me and my family

Show your support for this GoFundMehttps://gofund.me/1d3a37c4

DISCLAIMER: UNVETTED

As this blog’s posts are extremely new, the fundraiser has not had the time to reach someone who can vett it.

€58/€13,000

[2346khith]

My name is Ahmed Bakr, a Palestinian. I live in the Gaza Strip. My least wish is to save my wife and children (Neven, Khaled, Joan, Aida, and Musk) from certain death. I write these words and ask for your help. I do not know whether we will be able to survive. This is my last message to you as a human being and the story of my life and my family since the beginning of the war. My son (Khaled) is his age. (8) years old and suffers from enlarged liver diseases, infections, and anemia from contaminated food and water. We are unable to treat him, buy medicine for him, hold a baby no more than two months old, and I am unable to provide her with milk, pampers, or even supplies for small children. My children need food and treatment. We are deprived of the food we love. Our mental health is deteriorating and very destructive, and we need hygiene supplies in the tents. I was displaced from my home from the north to the south, to Khan Yunis, then to Rafah, and then to Nuseirat. I was injured by an occupation sniper while searching for a living for my children. I endured carrying water, searching for wood to light the fire, and bringing food for my children because there was no gas for long distances. Long, all day long, surrounded by devastation, bloody missiles and shattering shrapnel. We endured constant fear day and night for a whole year without any peace or comfort. I do not know where to take my children. Our lives are very painful and difficult, and every time we miraculously escape death, I want to help everyone who can help us, those with compassionate hearts. We live in the heat of tents and under the blazing sun. My house was completely demolished after years of effort and fatigue and building our house. Then, one night and one day, everything disappeared and my children’s room was completely burned and demolished. Even our car was not spared from the bombing, as we had all the wonderful means and tools. For the sake of a decent life, we started roasting our food over the fire despite the fatigue and heat. We are still standing despite the bombing, hunger, and severe shortages. We need your help. At this Save My Children event, we invite you to share our story with your friends and families with clarity and support. Your sensible words and prayers provide strength to endure these difficult circumstances... (Your donation) can make enough difference in our lives. We depend on your support and your standing by our side through this traditional ordeal, boxing, to restore hope and safety to Hayat and her family. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for considering my application. Your support and donation are very important to me and my family

Show your support for this GoFundMehttps://gofund.me/1d3a37c4

For those who see this please, visit their blog and reblog their blog’s posts so they  get more attention and if you have the money to spare please donate.

Also I apologize, but I do not have the ability to donate to you. Trust me if I had the ability I would but I don't and I can't. I have no bank account or credit card to transfer money to and no job to gain any money. Every time I ask my parents to help they shut me down so this is the only way to help you. Please forgive me.