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lawsend · 11 months

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Murder at Vista Heights Chapter 1

Series: Law’s End

Episode 1: Murder at Vista Heights

Fandom: The Royal Romance (loosely, there’s not much canon in here. I've just borrowed the names).

Pairings: None yet

Word Count: 2,524

Rating: MA

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

A/N: Thanks to @harleybeaumont and @karahalloway for prereading and bouncing ideas with me.

“Riley! Riley! Come here!”

Riley Brook’s head jerked up from the keyboard she’d been furiously typing on, her lush auburn brown curls bouncing freely, her deep emerald eyes wide. Her gaze darted from the source of the interruption, who was standing on the other side of the room waving his arms at her, to the coworker sitting at the desk across from her who looked completely disinterested as he lifted a shoulder and brought a sandwich to his mouth, lettuce and mayonnaise falling onto his desk.

Gross. That’s what the break room was for.

She carefully closed the lid of her laptop before walking across the newsroom. Goddamn if she was going to let any of these vultures scoop her story or copy her work.

“What’s up, Max?” she asked as she approached the over-exuberant freelance photographer who often hung around the office.

His cobalt blue eyes sparkled with excitement as he ran a hand through his short, russet brown waves and practically danced in place, “You told me to tell you if anything interesting came across the police scanner!”

Riley grabbed his arm, her fingers sinking in almost painfully as she glanced around the newsroom in panic. Dragging him into the empty breakroom, she glared at him, “Keep it down! It’s not a scoop if everyone knows!”

“Sorry! Sorry!” He lowered his voice and leaned closer to her, “The seventh precinct was just called out to investigate a homicide!”

“The seventh precinct?” Her eyes widened, “That’s Liam’s beat! Did you get the address?”

“Of course!” He dangled the keys to his midnight blue Chevy Tahoe in front of her, “We can take my car!”

She deftly swiped the keys right out of his hand, “Fine. But I’m driving!”

“But-“ he tried to protest but she was already striding for the door. He quickly gathered his equipment bag and stumbled after her.

Sliding into the passenger seat of his own vehicle, he glanced over at the woman in the driver’s seat, “It’s my car, Riley…”

“Don’t be a baby,” she admonished him as she put the car in gear and flew out of the parking garage, “Besides, I like to be in control.”

“Yeah….” His eyes tracked across her face then dipped down her body, a flush creeping across his cheeks before he turned toward the window, “Just try not to sideswipe anyone this time.”

“That wasn’t my fault!”

“Which time?”

“Any of them!”

Max wrapped his hand around the grab handle above the window and held on for dear life as the Tahoe careened around a corner, “You know the murder victim isn’t going anywhere, right?”

“I want to get there before that asshole Neville! He’s not scooping me again!”

“Okay….” Max squeezed his eyes shut and said a quick prayer as his vehicle jolted over a curb.

The Tahoe skidded to a stop in front of the Vista Heights apartment complex. Riley hopped out and made a beeline for the crime scene.

“Are we really going to just leave her in the middle of the street like that?” Max yelled after her.

Riley answered him over her shoulder without slowing down, “No one’s going to tow it right now. The cops have bigger fish to fry. Come on!”

He hesitated only briefly before grabbing his camera and scurrying after her. He glanced back at the SUV doubtfully, but the sight of Riley’s retreating back spurred him on. He could always bail out a towed vehicle. Riley never waited for anyone or anything.

He kind of liked that about her.

By the time he caught up to her, she was leaning over the caution tape as she tried to get anyone’s attention, “Excuse me? Excuse me?”

“Stay behind the tape!” a uniformed officer yelled at her.

“I know that…” she muttered as her eyes scanned the area until she spotted a familiar face, “Liam! Liam!”

Detective Liam Rys turned his gaze toward the crowd as a voice he knew all too well screamed his name. Shaking his head, he strode over to the caution tape with his lips pressed firmly together, “I’m at work, Miss Brooks. How can I help you?”

“Sorry, detective,” she gave him a look that was half repentant and half teasing, “I was wondering if I could get a comment, or at least the name of the victim.”

“You know better than that, Riley. This is an active crime scene.” There was a slight edge in his voice as his eyes flicked over her shoulder to take in Max as well, “You both need to get out of here. Wait for the press release, like everyone else.”

Riley tipped her head back to look up into his face. At five foot seven, she was tall for a woman, but he had a couple of inches on her. The tailored suit he was wearing fit him perfectly and gave away his family background of wealth and privilege. He wasn’t buying Armani suits on a detective’s salary. His raven hair was cut short, not quite military short, but close. His onyx eyes held several emotions, the primary of which was annoyance.

“Are you still mad?”

“I was never mad, Riley,” he glanced at Max then leaned forward so only she could hear him. His breath tickled her ear, “But fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. I’m not falling for your tricks a second time.”

Goose bumps cascaded down her spine at the memory, “It wasn’t a trick, Liam.”

“Hm,” he pulled back with a smirk, “Right. That’s why my case ended up on the front page of the Cordonia City Ledger the next day.”

“Coincidence.”

“I don’t believe in coincidences so move along.”

“But-“ she watched his retreating back with a frustrated exhale.

Max’s gaze swung from Riley to Liam then back again, “Whatever happened between the two of you anyway?”

Riley shrugged, “Nothing that wasn’t mutually beneficial.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning none of your business!”

“I was just-“

“Max, look!” she punched him in the arm as the body was wheeled out and loaded into the back of an ambulance.

Max brought the Canon EOS Rebel up and started clicking furiously.

Riley’s eyes swept around the crime scene, looking for anything that would help her identify the victim.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? If it isn’t the scruffy underdog and her mangy sidekick.” The voice was like nails on a chalkboard.

Riley turned with disdain toward the biggest pain in her ass. Neville VanCoeur, the highest-ranking journalist at their rival publication, The Cordonia City Herald. He had curly, dirty blonde hair that he kept gelled so thickly to his head a hurricane wouldn’t move it an inch. His face was fixed in a permanent sneer unless he was on camera, and he’d had it out for her since day one.

Probably because she’d turned down both his sexual advances and his job offer. “Scruffy underdog isn’t the insult you think it is, Johnny Bravo.”

Max erupted into gales of laughter as Neville stiffened, “Who is Johny Bravo?” he sneered, making Max laugh even harder.

“Your long-lost twin, ass wipe,” Riley smirked at him before turning her back to scan the crowd, looking for a neighbor that might talk.

Neville’s response was lost as Riley made her way through the throng of onlookers, hoping for anyone that knew which apartment the murder had occurred in. No one knew anything.

She stomped her foot on the ground in frustration as her eyes fell on the spot the ambulance had been. “Hey, Max, I have an idea!”

Max listened and a mischievous grin spread across his face, “I’m on it!”

He quickly found Neville’s photographer and sidled up to him, “Dude! There’s a delivery entrance open around back! I got some amazing shots!”

“Really?”

“Really!”

The man’s eyes narrowed in suspicion, “Why would you tell me this?”

“Oh, am I not supposed to?” Max acted startled, “I’m new at this. I thought we all helped each other out like that! Isn’t that how it works?”

“Sure, kid. That’s how we do it,” the guy gloated, “Thanks for the tip!”

Max watched the photographer whisper to Neville who looked gleefully around before sneaking around the parking lot to the back of the building. He gave Riley a thumbs up.

Riley waited for Max’s signal, then found a uniformed police officer, “I’m sorry to interrupt but I just saw that reporter go around back. Aren’t they supposed to stay on this side of the caution tape?”

“Yes,” the man was obviously annoyed, “Thank you ma’am, we’ll take care of it.”

“Any time, officer,” she smiled disarmingly at him.

Riley and Max ran back to the Tahoe, giggling the whole way.

“That should keep him busy for a while!” She laughed as she climbed back into the driver’s seat.

“So, we can get to the coroner’s office first, I presume?”

“Of course!” She started the car and threw it in reverse.

“Be careful with Estelle!” Max yelled at her as the car went up onto the sidewalk.

“Sorry, sorry!” She put it in drive and made her way carefully away from the crime scene. Curbs were one thing, she didn’t want to hit a pedestrian, and the street was now full of onlookers.

They drove in silence until they were clear of the crowd. Max relaxed into his seat with relief, but it was short lived as Riley gunned it the moment they were back on open road.

“Jesus, Riley! I want to get to the coroner’s office as a photographer, not a body!”

“Have I ever killed you before?”

“No…but there’s a first time for everything!”

Riley was quiet for a moment, then her tone turned serious, “Can I ask you something?”

Max’s face lit up at what he thought was a change of subject, “Sure Riley, you can ask me anything!”

“So, I’ve been wondering….Why did you name your car Estelle? That’s an old lady’s name, isn’t it?” She took her eyes briefly from the road as he answered.

Max gave her a flirty wink, “I like older women.”

Riley rolled her eyes as she returned them to the road, “Grandma old?”

Max’s face fell, “No…no, that’s not what I meant!”

“How old are you, Max? Twenty? Twenty-one?”

“I’m twenty-three, Riley. I’m a grown ass man.”

“Sure you are.”

“I’m only five years younger than you, you know.”

“Only,” she snorted, “Five years is an entire college career and then some.”

Max let out a frustrated exhale as he shifted in his seat, “Whatever.”

They pulled up in front of a small, nondescript building situated behind a UPS hub and across from a warehouse in the industrial district. It was a squat, one story structure made of faded brown brick with a row of tiny windows stretched across the front and a red windowless door in the middle. Actually, the door was just off center, a detail made her want to knock it down with a wrecking ball.

“This building is depressing,” Max muttered as he climbed out of the Tahoe.

“You always say that.”

“It’s always true!”

“Considering what it is, that seems appropriate,” Riley responded as she made her way into the building and down the hall to the morgue, bypassing the reception desk which was thankfully empty.

“Come in!” a voice called in response to her knock.

“Hey, Dr. Lee!” Riley greeted the woman with the lab coat.

“I told you to call me Hana,” the doctor was shorter than Riley, with warm caramel colored hair falling to her shoulders, deep brown eyes and an upturned nose.

“Sorry…Hana…I was wondering if you knew anything about the murder at the Vista Heights apartment complex earlier today.”

“Just brought him in,” Hana swept her hand toward the body on the table, “the cause of death seems obvious, but you never know. All homicide victims are autopsied, as you know.”

“Who is he?” Riley craned her neck trying to get a better look. The man on the table looked to be in his mid to late forties with jet-black hair and sharp features.

Max hung back near the door. He had no desire to see the dead body.

“You know I can’t tell you that,” Hana admonished.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Riley shot Max a meaningful look, her eyes darting from his to a manila folder laying on Hana’s desk, before stepping closer to the other woman. With a slight pout, she reached out and rubbed a hand down her upper arm, “Forgive me?”

Hana flushed slightly as a shy smile spread across her face, “It’s fine, I know you’re just doing your job.”

“And you’re just doing yours. I respect that.” Riley’s eyes flicked over Hana’s shoulder as Max closed the folder and gave her a thumbs up. “You said the cause of death was obvious?”

Hana hesitated, “I really shouldn’t say…”

“I promise to keep your name out of it.”

“I mean…it’s going to be out there soon enough anyway. I don’t think it’s a huge secret that gunshots were fired just prior to 911 being called. That’s all I can really say.”

“Thank you!!” Riley knew about the gunshots because Max had heard that much on the police scanner. It was nice to have confirmation though. “We’ll let you get back to work!”

“Riley?”

She paused on her way to the door, “Yeah?”

“Are you going to be at the bar later?”

“The Beat?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

“Of course!” she grinned, “There’s been a murder! Where else would I be but the bar all the cops hang out at?”

“Okay, maybe I’ll see you there.”

“That would be awesome!” Riley gave her a wave then exited the room. The moment they were back in the car, Riley turned to Max and demanded, “Well?”

“Well, the victim’s name was Trenton Hayes, he was shot dead in his apartment.”

“Trenton Hayes…Trenton Hayes…” she searched her memory, “Isn’t he some kind of wall street tycoon?”

“Yeah, I don’t really keep up with that type of stuff.”

“Really?” Surprise pulled through her, “You’re a Beaumont.”

“Not a very good one,” he laughed humorlessly, “My contribution to the family empire consists of spending the money…”

“Okay….” She didn’t know what to say to that. She smacked him on the shoulder as she drove, “Well, look the guy up!”

“I am!” He swatted her hand away as he typed into his phone, “Oh, shit! I’ve seen this guy before!”

“Really? Where?”

“I took pictures of him for this PI I work with sometimes.”

“What? Why?”

Max shrugged, “I don’t know. He pays me to take photos sometimes, or hack into shit. I wasn’t following the guy; I was following the woman he met with!”

“Who was the woman?”

“Katie Sloan.”

“Wait! The wife of William Sloan? As in, the head of Sloan Enterprises?”

“Yeah, that’s the one!”

“Holy fucking shit! Who is this PI? We’re going to talk to him right now!”

“Walker and Son Investigations, it’s on Canal Street.”

“Hold on!” She yelled as she yanked the wheel and skidded into a U-turn, “Canal Street, here we come!”

#trr au #writeblr #maxwell beaumont #liam rys #drake walker #riley brooks #trr fandom #trr fanfic #the royal romance #no canon #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #trr au fanfic #crime drama #angelasscribbles #Law's End #laws end #cordonia city

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gloryride · 9 days

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22 from the soft prompts for Virgile and Panam 🥰

AAAAAAH i'm so happy you asked this prompt with them because i have this idea in mind since forever but i never put words on it, so thanks ♥♥

[soft otp prompts]

22- Write about a member of your ship giving the other a special gift.

Camp Freedom is an old abandoned corpo resort from the 2040s along Lake Tahoe, taken over by the various Nomads clans passing through, becoming a popular recreational spot for all Nomads families, now run by statics from the Jodes. It was in this place, a little out of the way of deckchairs and potential visitors, that Virgile and Panam sat to watch the sunset. He'd told her stories of his childhood, and she'd wanted to see what it was like. Sitting on a bench, Panam's head on his shoulder, Virgile grinned, happy at this moment, so perfect. Plunging his hand into the inside of his jacket, he pulled out a small wooden box, weathered, polished a bit by the sand, with no embellishment other than an engraving in the shape of a vague S. Still curious, Panam straightened up, left the scoop of her boyfriend's neck to observe the container and already reached out to touch it, to take it. "Is this for me?" She smiles, amused, but her voice betrays a form of surprise.

Virgile doesn't answer right away. His azure eyes are riveted on the box for a moment, immersed in his memories, before he jumps up and puts the box between Panam's and his own. "It's a gift I've wanted to give you for some time, a present dear to me. Open it."

Inside, on a bed of faded blue synthetic silk, lay a necklace—a simple gold chain with a small heart as a pendant. Panam ran her finger over the heart with delicacy while Virgile watches her tenderly and then strokes her hand.

"This belonged to my mother. My father gave it to her after I was born because it was a miracle we survived because of … you know, her heart and mine. I always saw her with it around her neck." a wistful smile passed over her face.

For a few moments, he remembers his mother sitting in her armchair, him at her feet reading, or the two of them side by side watching an old film. Her blue eyes were like his, and she looked at him with tenderness. He had never forgotten his mother, who was gone too soon. But he realizes Panam is waiting for him to continue talking, so he shakes his head to compose himself. "Sometime before she passed away, she gave it to me, telling me I'd give in turn one day. I've always kept it, and the box has been one of the few things I've been able to take with me." he felt his beloved's hand squeeze him, a wave of gentleness washing over him to extinguish the sadness of his memories. "For a long time, I thought I'd keep this necklace for myself, that I'd end up alone. I never thought I could be happy after my forced separation from the Jodes. NetWatch, my life in Night City reinforced that idea."

He looks up at Panam, but she never leaves his sight. Then, she strokes his cheek to comfort him. "Hey, that's all in the past." The warmth of her hand and the softness of her voice remind him why they're here, why this gift. A sigh of ease escapes his mouth before he continues. "What I mean is, I never thought I could be happy one day, or find someone. And today, I'm here, with you, at the place of my best memories. I'm happy."

Placing the necklace back in its box, Panam hugs Virgile and kisses their cheek and nose before really kissing him. She finally settles back into the hollow of his neck, where she places a final kiss, and closes her eyes. "I am too, you know. And it means a lot to me that you'd give me this gift."

They remain like this, alone in the world on the shores of Lake Tahoe, as the sun races on, giving way to night. A light breeze brings them back to reality, and Panam straightens up with a mischievous air he always finds irresistible. "Can you put it around my neck?"

"Wait, I wanted to tell you one more thing." He takes the box in his hand and stares at it, even more nervous. "There's a tradition in my old clan. When you give an object of high sentimental value like this, it means … let's say it's a promise that you want to spend your life with the other person."

He feels Panam's hand move up his chin to meet her golden gaze, but he's unable to guess what she's thinking. " Virgile, are you… Are you proposing to me?" he nods a little too quickly and loudly because he's so nervous. Then put it around my neck, silly."

The last word breaks as tears fill his face. Tears of happiness as he smiles, then laughs…

♥♥

#cyberpunk 2077 #otp : highway to love #oc : virgile sarto #panam palmer #oc x panam #panam x oc #sometimes i write #oc ask #finally put words on this part of story <33 #bc they deserve an happy ending #and i give them <33

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jungle-angel · 1 year

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Hard Day’s Night (Miles Miller x Reader)

Summary: Miles has been to hell and back, but you never fail to show him what heaven looks like

BIG SMUT WARNING!!!!!!! 18+ only, minors DO NOT INTERACT

Miles ran a hand through his hair, hoping to God the other desk clerk would show up for his shift. Every last square inch of him ached, his head, his neck, his feet and his shoulders. His eyes had begun to sting, the weight of the previous night on his mind along with the nightmare that had kept him up until sunrise.

“Miles?” asked a familiar voice, a low southern drawl that was only heard every so often throughout the hotel.

Miles snapped awake when he felt the hand tapping his elbow. “George, I’m so sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t even know I was asleep.”

“Son, it’s perfectly alright, I understand,” Mr. Lawson assured him. “I didn’t sleep so well myself.”

Miles felt a little better but the embarrassment still lingered, hanging over his head like a little shadow that followed him everywhere. “I take it Richie didn’t show up?” Miles croaked.

“No and I think today’s the day I’m gonna cut him loose,” George answered sternly. “I can understand being absent for lengthy periods of time for health or family reasons, but the other day somebody caught the little devil out back smoking that skunk grass some of the longhaired folk like to smoke.”

“Was it you?” Miles asked him. “Maybe Tripp? Or Dan?”

“No, no it uh....it was Chase, that longhair who we took on as a groundskeeper,” Mr. Lawson explained. “He said he went to go and get some fresh air with his son this morning and could smell it behind the dumpster.”

Miles laughed a little. His new friend Chase, had been known to smoke the grass every once in a while, but in front of his own kids? He had told Miles he’d rather get shot than do that in front of them. Miles had been glad that Chase had taken Benny and Arlo for the weekend, but wished he could be spending more time with his parents and his son.

And especially you.

You had been on his mind all day and for the better part of the afternoon, the littlest things about you filling his mind to keep the stress from getting under his skin. Even now, six years after your marriage, you still gave Miles the feeling of butterflies in the stomach every time he saw you walk into a room.

Miles reluctantly clocked out only when George jokingly told Miles he’d beat him blue if he didn’t take a long weekend. Lucky for him, the Fourth was right around the corner which meant all the city dwellers would be coming to Lake Tahoe for the fireworks and celebrations that would last anywhere between three days and a week.

Miles shuffled his way back to the living quarters he shared with you, his parents taking up residence on the other side of the wall during the season. Miles heaved a sigh when he noticed the room was empty, the tears starting to fall from his eyes. He knew most days you wandered off on your own, sometimes heading off on the hiking trail near the hotel or heading downtown for just a few minutes. Yet somehow, the stress of the day had really gotten to him, weighing him down a little more than normal and making him feel as though he had fallen and hurt himself.

Miles went straight to the bathroom and ran the hot water, sitting on the edge of the tub as he pulled off his shoes, socks, jacket and tie. His fingers fumbled with the buttons on his white shirt, his eyelids heavy from the lack of sleep and the weight still sitting heavy on his shoulders. As soon as he slipped in and turned off the hot water, he felt it all melting away from his muscles, the aches and pains washing right away.

Miles felt his eyes fluttering shut, unable to fight the urge to sleep any longer, his heartbeat and breathing relaxing as he sank further into the water. It was only a second that he had seen the jungle, the rice paddies and the villages where his platoon had been, the people that dwelled there and the baby girl he had helped take care of while her mother and father were being treated by the company medic.

But soon, Miles’s dreams had turned to something better, memories of you, those long summer days and nights spent swimming in Lake Tahoe and of course, the hot, rainy summer night when Benny had been born. Miles felt his heart skip a beat when the memory of that night came flooding back, how shaky he had been, holding his precious little son who was already running and talking back at him.

When he finally awoke, Miles felt much less achy, a little heavy headed but feeling much better as he wrapped the towel around his waist. He went straight to the sink and ran the hot water again, pulling out his old shave kit from the Army that he had kept as an “heirloom”. Bullshit you little knucklehead.....he laughed to himself. You stole it right out from under their noses......

God it felt good when the coolness of the shaving cream hit his jaw, cheeks and neck, slathering it on until he had a coat of it thin enough to get rid of the stubble. It wasn’t until he had finished, washed off his face and put everything away in the medicine cabinet, that he felt a familiar sensation between his shoulders along with a mischievous giggle that reached his ears.

“Hi handsome,” you purred.

“And where have you been all day Mrs. Miller?” he chuckled.

“Out on the trail, looking for plants,” you answered, pressing another kiss to the bare skin on his back.

Miles’s hand trailed to yours as your arms coiled around his waist. “Doing better?” you asked him.

“Much better,” Miles sighed. “I slept a little after I clocked out. Still feel a little achy though.”

You kissed the spot again. “You want me to make you feel better?”

Miles felt his heart jump inside his chest. In those short six years of marriage, he knew what this usually led to. “Y-you want to?” he stammered. He was lucky he didn’t still have the shaving razor in his hand.

“Baby, you took care of me when I was in labor with Benny and after he was born,” you purred. “Let me take care of you for once.”

Miles felt the goosebumps beginning to prick on his skin as you ran your warm hands along his sides, his eyes shutting in complete bliss as your hands slowly went from his sides to his hips, trailing along his stomach and right to his crotch where he felt your hand gently wrapping around his length. Miles let out a blissful moan as you began working away, your gentle hands guiding him into that high that he knew he could only experience with you.

Your voice whispered sweet nothings in his ear as your hand worked away at the now evident hardness inside the towel wrapped around his waist. Miles could feel the heat flaring in his face, his hands, his chest and his stomach as you whispered those sweet but dirty words in his ear.

“Am I being good for you?” you whispered. “Hmm? Am I being good for my handsome guy?”

“You’re too good to me,” Miles whimpered, his mouth parted in complete bliss.

“Oh baby,” you murmured. “You’re being such a good boy for me.”

Miles could feel himself chasing that familiar high, your touches making the butterflies in his stomach almost overwhelming as he keened into your touch. His soft moans and whimpers were music to your ears as your hand worked away at his hardness. Your fingers had begun to feel a little wet, but that was nothing compared to the wetness that was beginning to build between your legs.

“You want a taste of me don’t you?” you cooed. “You want a taste of your pretty little wifey?”

Miles couldn’t take it anymore. He suddenly turned right around, picked you right up and stuck you on the edge of the sink, burying his face in your neck and dying to get a taste of you. You gasped when you felt that hardness enter you and so didn’t Miles.

“Baby,” he murmured as his lips trailed down the curve of your neck. “You’re so perfect......gotta get a taste of you honey.”

You felt him rutting into you, going deeper and deeper until you felt his hips closing against yours, the space between you practically nonexistent. Miles picked you right up off the edge of the sink and carried you straight to the bedroom, laying you down carefully with him still on top of you. He quickly attached himself to your neck but soon rolled onto his back with you straddling his waist on top of him.

“What do you want baby?” you asked him.

“You,” Miles whimpered.

You made a face as if he hadn’t heard you. “What do you want Miles?”

“You....”

“No......what do you want?”

“YOU!” Miles blurted out as a tear fell from his gentle blue eyes and his chin trembled a little.

You smiled lovingly at him as you took his hands in yours, placing them on your hips, slowly swaying back and forth on his throbbing cock, reveling in the soft whimpering and moaning that came from your husband, more so when you began sucking and gently biting at his chest. You felt him thrust up into you when your lips and your tongue brushed against his nipples. Finally, you felt him spill himself right into you, both of you riding out your high until you guided each other back down.

Miles sat himself up, still inside you as he pulled you close to his chest, his nose nuzzling against your reddened cheeks before he placed a kiss on each one. “You’re amazing,” he murmured.

You wanted to answer him but your head was almost spinning as Miles laid you on your back. When you tried to squirm off of his cock, he gently stopped you. “No, no baby,” he pleaded. “Please....please stay.”

You couldn’t say no, not to the pleading look in those eyes. You both laid on your sides, your gazes locked together with the two of you still joined together at the hips.

“Do you remember the last time we were like this?” Miles whispered, brushing a lock of your hair out of your face.

You smiled, recalling the memories in the back of your mind. “I couldn’t forget it if I tried,” you laughed.

“One gorgeous summer day,” Miles murmured. “Six years ago, the two of us.....my mother and father embarrassing the ever living hell out of us. It all led to the best things that ever happened to me.....you and Benny.”

You pressed a sweet kiss to his lips before he nuzzled your face. “I love you Miles,” you whispered.

“I love you too Mrs. Miller,” Miles replied. “I always will.”

#bad times at the el royale #miles miller #miles miller x reader #lewis pullman #lewis pullman x reader

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danime25 · 4 months

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In The Snow

ao3 // normal masterlist // christmas masterlist

*Summary: Ken got so excited by the prospect of seeing snow. Driver shattered his hopes, but tried to find a way to make it up to his boyfriend

*Rating: E for Everyone

*Content/Tags: Fluff

*Status: Oneshot/Complete

“Wake up.” Ken joustled the nearly comatose man in his bed. His boyfriend roused from his sleep and looked up at Ken with a cocked eyebrow

“What?” Driver asked the other man.

“It’s supposed to snow today.” Ken smiled

“It’s Los Angeles.”

“No, but the weather said it’ll snow. Here.” Ken pulled Driver out of bed and showed him the TV. Sure enough, it said that it would snow. In the Midwest. Driver sighed softly,

“Ken, we’re hours… days away from where there’d be snow.” He explained

“But it looks so close on TV.” Ken sighed, “I’ve never seen snow before, and when I was watching that one scary Christmas movie the other day… they had snow.”

“Scary Christmas?”

“Yeah.” Ken mimicked a scary face, “with the ‘ho ho ho’ thing?”

“Oh. A Christmas Story.”

“What story?”

“The name of the movie.” Driver tucked his hands in the pockets of his pajama pants

“Oh.” Ken nodded

“I’ll make coffee.” Driver said a moment later and went into the kitchen. Ken sat on the couch and leaned his head against the arm of it. Driver could tell Ken was slightly upset. Was it really such a big deal to Ken to see snow? Well he could take the two of them out to Lake Tahoe. But he didn’t really have that much money to rent out a cabin and the gas to get there. Colorado? Too busy. He sighed again as he brought two cups over to Ken. He sat beside him and ran his calloused fingers through Ken’s fluffy hair.

“Sorry.”

“For what?” Ken looked up at him

“The snow.” Driver shrugged

“Oh.” Ken nodded, “I wish there was a place where we could experience winter.”

“Wait.” Driver got up from the couch and flipped through his laptop. When he found what he was looking for he threw his jacket on, and threw Ken’s jacket at him. Ken quickly got up from the couch and put the piece of clothing on quickly. Driver ran out to start the car and Ken followed after him. He managed to get the seat belt in just barely before Driver put the car into reverse and they went off to wherever it was that Driver was taking them. Ken had only driven with Driver once before, and it was such a smooth ride. He wondered a little bit about why he drove with such… passion to wherever it was that they were going. After saying ‘Oh Mattel’ more than once on the drive, the couple arrived safely.

“I love it.” Ken said with a smile, “Where are we?”

“Let’s go inside.” Driver replied, turning the engine off and getting out of the car. Ken followed him and as they walked in Ken felt cold. Not cool, not chilly. Cold. He shivered a little bit and Driver took off his jacket, placing it on Ken’s shoulders.

“Aren’t you going to be cold?” Ken asked

“I’ll be fine.”

“Okay…” Ken looked over at a giant desk that said ‘Rentals’ and tilted his head. Driver went over there and came back with two pairs of skates. Ken looked at them for a second before watching Driver as he slipped his shoes off and put the skates on. Ken tried pushing off the floor and moving like he was on roller skates, but fell face first.

“You have to… be on ice.” Driver sighed and did his best to help Ken back up onto his feet. He stomped across the floor, with Ken a couple steps behind him. They made it onto the ice and Driver managed to get a good glide in before looking behind him. He stayed in the blue lane and watched as Ken stepped on the ice. Ken started slipping again and Driver did the stupidest thing he could do at that time and did a whole lap around the rink before stopping behind Ken. “Do what you did before… in the locker room.”

“What?”

“Like you’re on roller skates, just push off,” Driver said as he moved away from Ken while saying the words ‘push off’. Ken pushed off again but kept his legs straight. He tried to keep them in but his feet seemed to move against him. Then there he was, down on a full split on the ice. Thankfully it was a gradual slide rather than a fall on his ass. Driver tucked his hands in his pockets and made a loop around Ken. Ken sat on the ice as kids moved around him, giving him a look of ‘get out of my way’. He was amazed with the way that Driver slid across the ice with such grace. He made it look effortless. Almost like how Barbie made roller skating look. After seeing Ken on his butt, Driver went over to help him, using the wall to get him onto his feet. Driver took Ken’s hands and while watching his back pulled Ken along to get him used to the feeling of moving across the ice. Ken watched as he moved forward and Driver encouraged him to push with his feet. He let go of Ken for a moment and Ken made it a couple of feet by himself. He seemed more content either leaning up against the wall or sitting on the side of the track. Before he totally got off the ice, Driver stopped next to him at an angle where the ice collected and hit Ken’s feet. Driver took the pile of ice that laid on the ground and put it into his hand.

“What are you doing…?” Ken asked, only for Driver to carefully sprinkle the fragments over Ken’s head. Ken looked up at it with a smile and let it hit his face.

“It’s like it’s snowing.” Driver replied. When he was done sprinkling Ken, Ken pulled him into a quick kiss. Driver returned the kiss with a careful peck and looked at his partner. Ken smiled back at him with a blank expression. Driver took his hand and let him skate by his side. Ken makes it one lap around the ice rink and decides to call it for the day. Driver promises him he’ll only be a couple more minutes, and Ken heads to the locker room. Sure enough, Driver comes in less than 10 minutes later with sweat collected at his forehead.

“Are you okay?” Ken asked

“Yeah, just wanted to see how many times I could make it around the rink in 5 minutes.”

“Wow.” Ken whistled a little bit

“Let’s go home.” Driver nodded

“Okay… and thanks.”

“Thanks?”

“For finding a way to let me see snow.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Love you.” Ken said with a smile. Driver gave Ken a quick kiss on the cheek and wrapped his arms around the other man as they walked out of the rink.

#driver x ken #drive #drive 2011 #ryan gosling ken #barbie #barbie movie #barbie 2023 #my writing #my fic #fanfiction #fanfic #ryan gosling character #ryan gosling #the barbie movie #kenergy #barbie the movie #ken x driver #12 days of goosemas

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thiswasinevitableid · 11 months

Text

Resurfaced (Sternclay)

To close out mermay, here's the winner of the "mers and humans on water" poll: A mer rescues a drunk human who fell off a yacht (or was pushed?). This fill is NSFW.

Barclay is ten years old the first time he’s seen by a human.

His home near what humans call the Apostle Islands means there are many tourists in the spring and summer, and his moms taught him from a young age how to keep himself camouflaged or out of sight. Which is why he ducks behind a red-brown rock as voices barrel down the beach towards him.

“Give it back!”

“Why? I took it, it’s mine now.”

“Yeah, finders keepers!”

“You didn’t find it, you took it!”

All three voices belong to children, and so he doesn’t dive right away. Human kids don’t carry weapons. As far as he knows.

“So what? You gonna come take it back?”

“Please just give it back? It’s a library book.”

“It’s a library book” the second voice rudely mimics the first. “Figures, right Katie? Joseph has no friends so he has to spend all his time with books. Whoops!”

A book comes flying over the rock, and Barclay catches it before it hits the water. The cover has a black and white picture of a monster head sticking out of the lake below the words Monsters and Mysteries.

“Hey! I, you, if the library bans me forever I, I’ll tell my mom.”

“Pfft, whatever. My dad’s your dad’s boss. C’mon sis.”

Two sets of footsteps fade away, but the third comes closer, underscored by short, controlled breaths. Like someone trying hard to stay calm instead of crying.

“Please don’t be ruined.” A face pokes over the rock; a human boy, about Barclay’s age. Who nearly falls into the water when he notices Barclay.

“Ohmygosh. You scared me.”

“Sorry,” Barclay holds out the book, “it didn’t fall in. Did get kinda splashed when I caught it but I think it’s okay.”

The boy, who he assumes is Joseph, holds the book to his chest, relieved, “Thank you so much.” Eyes blue as the summer sky flick down to the water.

Barclay hopes holding perfectly still will keep him from noticing the tail.

“Are you a mermaid?”

“Uhhhh”

“You are.” Joseph swings his legs over the edge of the rock, book in his lap, “are there others in the lake? Are you the only one? Are there monsters down there too?”

“I’m, I’m not really supposed to talk to humans. If people find out we’re here they might hurt us.”

The human goes silent, staring at the book, then at Barclay, and then looking around at the bank and the lake.

“If I promise not to tell, can I stay and talk to you?”

He shouldn’t. But the boy seems so nice, and he’s smiling at Barclay in a way that makes him feel like fins are fluttering in his belly.

“Only if you let me see the pictures in your book. I want to see what other parts of the land look like.”

“Deal” the boy holds out his hand. When Barclay just stares he adds, “you shake it. That’s how we know it’s an agreement. Do mermaids not do that?”

“We bow.”

Joseph bows, then extends his hand again. Barclay returns the motion and takes it.

—------------------------------------------------------------

Technically, Joseph is alive when he hits the water.

But as he struggles to right himself, to make sense of what’s happening, he understands he was dead the moment he set foot on the boat. He should have been warier, should have listened to his gut. He was just so proud.

He kicks for the surface. He’s a good swimmer, which is probably why they plied him with congratulatory gin and tonics before shoving him overboard. All the same, he’s gulping down air in a matter of seconds.

Something small zips into the water to his right. Even drunk, he has the presence of mind to drop below the surface after the third bullet hits the water near him.

He’s in the middle of Lake Tahoe, in the dead of night, with no other boats in sight and no fewer than five trained marksmen shooting at him.

Logically, he should just decide if he’d rather be shot or drown.

He dives as deep as his current coordination will allow and begins a desperate, determined swim to shore.

—-------------------------------------------------------------------

This is Barclay’s favorite spot for a night swim; there’s no way to see it from the road, and the water is always just the right temperature for cooling off after work. Which is why he’s annoyed to hear humans and the faint hum of a motor in the distance.

He sighs and dives beneath the water, figuring they’ll pass by soon enough. In the moonlit, dark water, a shape floats towards him. Another mer?

No, a human. A human that isn’t swimming but sinking.

Barclay swims forward, catching the figure in his arms. The nearest boat is too far to swim to while carrying him, so he busts his tail to reach his little beach where he keeps his sandals, hauling the human onto the rocky shore.

Two years ago Barclay’s friend, Indrid, declared that they should all learn CPR so that they could help drowning humans. After all, they live in/on a popular tourist destination. Barclay was pretty sure at the time that this was all so Indrid could invite local ranger Duck Newton over to give the course and spend an afternoon staring longingly at him, but he paid attention all the same.

He’s glad he did, because after only a few moments of it, the man is gasping and coughing lake water all over his nice suit. As the man continues spluttering, Barclay quickly puts on the woven bracelet that gives him legs.

The mostly-drowned man sits up, blinking. When he sees Barclay, his hand grabs Barclay’s shoulder with as much speed as he can muster.

“Did anyone see you?”

“No. Your boat was kinda far away when I pulled you out, and their lights were facing the other way. Do you want me to try and flag ‘em down?”

“No! No, no that’s” he coughs, “that’s not safe. I need to get out of sight. We need to get out of sight. If someone realizes that you rescued me you’ll be in danger.”

Barclay has zero desire to be in danger or in an argument.

“My place is just around that bend, on the edge of town. C’mon.” He helps the soaking man up, steadying him as he wobbles side to side. When they reach his houseboat, he glances to make sure no boats are nearby and then ushers the human inside. The instant he indicates a kitchen chair, the man collapses into it.

“Do you need me to call 911?”

The human slowly, methodically ptas his body and examines at his limbs, “Am I bleeding anywhere you can see?”

“Hold still a sec?” Barclay kneels, checking the man’s back through the chair and gently holding his head to make sure there’s no injuries hidden by his black hair. There’s something familiar in the shape of his face and the sharpness of his eyes, but Barclay’s been all over the place; he could have seen the guy, or his brother or something, at one of his earlier jobs.

“You’re good.” He stands, “I’m gonna get you some dry clothes. Then we should…call the cops?”

A slow shake of the head, “No. I wouldn’t make it out of the station. I, I’m sorry, I know you’re just trying to help but I’m a little on the backfoot myself.” A pause, followed by a casually wary tone, “how did you even find me?”

“I was out for a swim. Helps me relax after work.”

“Seems a little dangerous, swimming alone where there aren’t other people.”

Barclay smiles to himself, “I guess. But I’m the strongest swimmer in the lake.”

He ducks into the bedroom, pulls a pair of grey sweatpants and one of his Donner Lake sweatshirt from the dresser. When he returns to the kitchen, the human is on his feet, studying a picture on the wall.

“Here you go. If these don’t fit, lemme know.”

“Thank you…”

“Barclay.”

A slight smile, although the human is still looking at the photo, “I’ve only ever known one other person with that name. I’m Joseph. And these are the Apostle Islands, aren’t they?”

“Yeah. I grew up around them. Uh, around there.”

“I used to vacation there every summer with my family.” He adjusts the frame slightly so it’s perfectly straight, “it’s funny, this looks like a spot I used to go all the time…”

It can’t be. This can’t be his Joseph.

The human turns, slowly, and Barclay realizes Joseph’s previous scrutiny was only surface level to determine if Barclay is a threat. This is burning attention, like an osprey sizing up a dive.

“Did you ever happen to save someone’s library book?”

Barclay’s heart catches fire, “Yeah. Yeah I did. He was a real nerd too.”

Joseph beams at him and now he sees it, can’t deny that the smile is the same one that always felt unfairly bright and smooth for a teenager. Barclay cautiously opens his arms.

Joseph hesitates, “I’m soaking wet.”

“Merman.”

In two, wobbly but determined steps, Joseph is in his arms, stiff as driftwood.

“I fucked up” the human whispers into his shoulder.

“Getting the sense it’s more like you got fucked over.” He pets Joseph’s hair, “either way, you can stay here tonight. I’ve got a spare room, and I don’t start work until noon tomorrow so I can make us breakfast.”

Joseph looks up at him with a sad smile, “Twenty-two years and you haven’t changed, big guy. You’re still nicer to me than anyone else.”

“Jesus, has it really been that long?”

“We moved to California the year I started high school, so yeah.” The tension in his spine is melting like snow, “Christ I’m tired. I was drunk when I went in the water and then in full fight or flight and now I think I might pass out.”

“Then get changed and I’ll show you your bed.”

“But I want to know where the legs came from!”

Barclay chuckles, “We’ll talk about it tomorrow, okay?”

Joseph nods and steps away to pick up the sweats. Then he turns, and for a moment Barclay is in the water of Lake Superior, sun setting as his new, human friend asks if he can come back and see him again.

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow. I promise.”

—---------------------------------------------------------------------

“...So, yeah, turns out if one of your buddies has some enchantment skills and also a desire to get the fuck away from his family, he’ll make you both disguises with legs.” Barclay stretches the legs in question out on the deck; Joseph agreed to eat breakfast out here since there’s a hammock chair that means anyone looking for him would just see a vaguely human shape in the shade.

“Amazing. Are there a lot of mers who do the same thing?”

“If they have access to it, most at least give it a try. But plenty of us decide we’re happy in our home turf, or only use the charm in the nearby town. I just wanted to go see more of the world, and I ended up here once I found out some of my friends also migrated this way.” He offers Joseph the plate of muffins, “what about you? If it’s not too much of a sore spot.”

His friend takes a long sip of his coffee, “Like I said, I started working for the FBI about ten years ago. They wouldn’t put me on unexplained phenomena no matter how many times I asked because I was “too valuable” to waste on chasing ghosts and boogeymen. I’d just made the biggest bust of my career; arms trafficking, the kind where the corruption goes all the way to the top of certain places. Some pretty high-profile arrests happened as a result. My bosses bosses boss invited me out here to celebrate, saying he wanted to toast and honor the best agent he’d ever seen.” Joseph traces foot on the deck, “turns out he’s part of the whole thing and wanted to make sure I didn’t fuck up anymore of his deals.”

“Oh, Joseph, I’m so fucking sorry.”

“I just feel so stupid for not seeing it as the set-up it was. I’d worked for years and never got much recognition because agents of my level are supposed to be high caliber, why would they praise me doing my job? And that’s on top of everyone thinking I’m a crack-pot because I believe in monsters and mermen and thus treating my genuine insights as flukes. I was so proud of myself for pulling this all off that it blinded me.”

Barclay scoots closer and, on a hunch, rests his head against Joseph’s thigh; when they were boys he’d lay with his head in the human’s lap and talk for hours, and Joseph always seemed to like having him there.

“It’s not your fault they’re fucking corrupt assholes.”

“Mmm” Joseph sips his coffee again.

Barclay tries a different tactic, nudging his leg with his elbow, “amazed they got you out on the lake. You must know about Tahoe Tessie.”

That gets him a smile, “Oh I do. Had I not been being used for target practice, I’d have been worrying that my thrashing around trying to swim while drunk would attract a lake monster. Assuming one is in here.”

“Not a big one.”

“Wait, what?” Joseph sets his cup down, “are you serious?”

“Yeah. They don’t get any bigger than my tail; and it’s why no one ever gets a picture of one. They’re easy to miss.”

“Incredible.” Joseph peers into the water like one might surface and steal a muffin.

Barclay smiles, “If you want, after work tomorrow I can show you some.”

His friend looks happy for the first time since hauling him from the water, “That would be wonderful, big guy.”

—--------------------------------------------------------

“Are you sure there isn’t a monster in there?” Joseph stands on the shore of Lake Superior, summer heat warring with an undiagnosed anxiety disorder as he stares at the dark water.

“Positive. Besides, promise I’ll protect you from any pike that show up.” Barclay swims a lazy circle on his back, and Joseph must admit that he looks more than capable of the job. Between this summer and the last one, his friend has undergone a growth spurt and is now sporting muscles to go along with his height (length?).

“Okay. But if anything bites me I’m out.” He wades in, at once embarrassed at his own fear and glad his friend doesn’t judge him for being thirteen and still convinced there are lake monsters.

His family has come back every summer, though mercifully after he turned ten his dad got a better paying job and he didn;t have to play nice with the old bosses shitty kids. Barclay has been here, waiting for him, every July. Joseph spends so much time at the water that his mom teases him for the lake air being the only thing that can coax him away from his summer reading.

To be fair, he and Barclay do read on the beach together. His friend has gotten into historical novels, but seems most interested in the romantic subplot, talking about all the dates he’ll take someone on when he finally starts dating. This only adds to the pile of evidence that the mer would be a great boyfriend.

But he’s stuck in the lake, and Joseph lives several hours away. So he lets his crush lurk beneath the surface of his mind and hopes it won’t come back to bite him.

This is safe. Barclay says this is safe.

Joseph is on a paddleboard near a rocky patch of the lake, tossing nori strips into the water in the hopes of a small lake monster coming for a snack. He is on a paddleboard. On a deep lake. In which there are monsters.

But Barclay says it’s safe.

He could have taken a kayak, or even a canoe, but then Barclay couldn’t rest his arms on the board or reach out and playfully flick water onto Joseph’s legs as easily. And all Joseph wants is to make it easy for him to be close.

“Here they are. Hey guys.” Barclay swims slowly back from the board as two, narrow, reptilian heads break the surface. They’re grey-brown, backs mottled like rocks spattered with water, and they’re not even half the size of his paddle. The larger of the two takes the saturated nori in its teeth and chews. The other bumps the snack with its nose, then swims to the board, bumps it, and then tries to bite it.

“No, no, here buddy.” Barclay herds it back towards the food as its larger friend dives beneath the water. As it takes the nori and swims in an excited oval, four more heads emerge.

“Ohmygod.”

“That’s what I was hoping for. Usually one or two test how safe it is, and then the rest follow. Kinda like birds.”

Not wanting to disappoint the flock, Joseph tosses more seaweed in the water. Little teeth snap them up, dive, and then return for more. After a while, a few of them become full enough that they move to exploring Barclay and himself, burbling when the mer pets the tops of their heads.

One watches its companions getting attention, then shifts its yellow eyes onto Joseph and glides through the water to him. For a miniaturized version of his recurring nightmare, it’s very cute.

He reaches out and runs his fingers over smooth skin. The creature burbles, then sniffs the air, going stiff when it sees the open box of nori strapped to the board.

Joseph smiles, “Okay, you convinced me-AHSHIT”

He hits the water, the monster capsizing the board in its attempt to leap onto it. The scales bumping his legs, the water over his head barely a week after almost drowning, the surprise, all of it makes panic flood his system.

Then he’s breathing air, strong arms wrapped around him and an even stronger tail between his legs, keeping him afloat with ease.

“Man, if I knew they liked those so much, I woulda brought more. Last time I used kale chips.” Barclay chuckles, then rubs their cheeks together, something Joseph hasn’t felt since he was thirteen and missed more than he ever had words for, “you good?”

He links his fingers at the small of Barclay’s back and takes a deep breath, “I’m good.”

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Joseph and Barclay are laying on the deck of his houseboat, feet dangling above the water, playing what Joseph always referred to as “Quid Pro Quo;” he’ll ask Barclay a question, then Barclay will ask him one in return. It came about after they first met; they were each so interested in the other’s world that they needed some kind of system to keep from just talking over one another.

They certainly weren’t asking these kinds of things, though.

“Hmmm” Joseph rests his hands behind his head, “most spontaneous thing I’ve ever done…well, there was one night where I was so exhausted from work that I spent two hours on the, um, giving end of a glory hole.”

Barclay breathes out something in mer, then says, “Everyone on the other end better have treated you right.”

“More or less, which is about what I wanted.” He turns to find Barclay blushing in the porch light, “what’s a fantasy you were too embarrassed to share?”

The pink on his cheeks deepens, “Uh. So. For a long time I used to fantasize about getting caught in, like, a fishing net. By a researcher. And then they’d spend all this time touching me and examining me and get me off while being kinda detached but still…still make me feel like I was special. Turns out I’m not the only mer with that idea; they sell a special net just for that kinda scene, but I always chickened out before asking someone to use it on me.”

“Can I see it?”

Barclay swallows down a low, soft purr, “C’mon, it’s inside.”

When they reach Barclay’s bedroom, the mer takes a garment box from the closet and opens it. Inside is a cloak of fishnet with little crystals woven in here and there, and as Barclay reverently lifts it out, Joseph runs a finger over a section and finds it far softer than anything used at sea.

“I can see why you bought it.” He traces his fingers up the net and over Barclay’s knuckles, “that’s a new color for your nails.”

Usually his friend paints his fingers and toes in bronzes and greens. Tonight they’re metallic black and blue.

The grip on the net tightens, “It’s a thing mers do when they’re into someone. Mers from the sea actually have scales that change color to reflect what’s on their mates' tails. Lake mers don’t, so we use make-up and flowers and, uh, stuff like that.”

Joseph takes his hand, “These look like my colors, big guy.”

“They are.” Barclay’s voice is painfully shy, “I had such a crush on you when I was thirteen, and when you didn’t come back the next year I’d float on my back and dream up all the ways we might be able to find each other again. I never really stopped daydreaming like that, even when I left home and that’s how, uh, how the net fantasy cropped up. I thought maybe you’d be on a research boat somewhere and haul me up accidentally. Then I got carried away and discovered I really, really liked the idea of being your catch.”

“You are a catch.” Joseph snickers at the pun as he strokes Barclay’s beard, “I didn’t think someone trying to murder me could lead anywhere good but, well, it dropped me right back into your arms.” He steps a half-inch closer, tips his face up, and kisses Barclay. The mer whines low in his throat and presses against him, clinging to him through the net still in his hands.

“Joseph” it’s barely a word and entirely a plea.

“I’m right here.” He brushes Barclay’s hair from his face, “tell me what you need.”

“You.” Barclay dips his head down, rubbing their cheeks together.

“And if what I want is to examine my catch?”

Brown eyes go huge, “Fuck, yes, babe please-”

“Then get changed for me, big guy. Wait, do we need to do this in the water somewhere?”

“No” Barclay yanks off his shirt, “I’ll be okay in my mer form in here for at least an hour.”

Joseph waits patiently as Barclay sits with his back to the wall and removes his bracelet. The mer drapes the net over his shoulders and slips his arms through two loops.

“Uh, Joseph? I think this is gonna take both of us.”

He grabs the directions from the box, and soon the net is stretched against Barclays chest, trapping his hands at his shoulders and cascading under him to loop around his tailfin. Joseph checks to be sure nothing is too tight, then stands.

“Ready?”

“If you don’t start right now I’m gonna fucking die.”

Joseph runs a hand over his own hair, pushing it into some semblance of order, then stands toe to tip with Barclay’s tail, “Now, merman I have never seen before, any and all agency rules state I should hand you over to my superiors. Who I definitely still report to.”

Barclay chuckles but plays along, trying to writhe away from him.

Joseph gently steps on his tailfin, “Hold. Still.”

The mer moans, manages to make his full lips tremble when he says, “You’re not gonna turn me in?”

“No. Those small minded assholes wouldn’t appreciate you. Wouldn’t see you for what you are: the most perfect, gorgeous specimen I’ve ever caught.”

That gets him a full-throated moan, so he crouches at Barclay’s side, tracing his fingers over trapped fists, “Here’s what we’ll do instead; I’ll examine you for my notes. If you’re very, very good while I do that, you’ll get a reward.”

“Yes” Barclay whispers, tail twitching, “baby, please-”

“Not quite” he runs his hand over Barclay’s chest, “right now my name is ‘sir.’ Understood?”

“Yes. AHFUCK, yessir” the mer smacks his tail into the floor as Joseph pinches his left nipple.

“Much better. Now, since it’s the part of you most unlike a human, and something I definitely haven’t spent a lot of time staring at, I’ll start with your tail.” He straddles the lower half of it, tenderly petting the iridescent bronze and green. It’s always reminded him of a Muskie’s scales. Maybe sightings of “monster fish” in the Great Lakes are really mers…

Focus, Stern,

“Let’s see…very muscular. Lots of power for something so beautiful.” He skates his hands up the tail, “pattern and coloration suggest camouflage–hmm, was that a sensitive spot?”

“Uh huh. I mean yes, sir.”

Joseph concentrates his touches on that section of scales, scooting up Barclay’s tail as the mer moans and the scales ripple and part.

“Amazing.” He dips his fingers into the opening and Barclay groans happily. The inside of the slit is ribbed, and the deeper he pushes his fingers the louder Barclay becomes.

“Fascinating. I assumed there’d be an appendageOH, oh there it is.” He laughs as a prehensile shaft curls around his thumb, “it’s happy to see me.”

“You have no fucking idea, sir.”

“Then enlighten me.” He continues fucking the slit with one hand while the other strokes Barclay’s dick.

“I, it, it can basically move on its own, on, on instinct. Used to, fuck” he claws at the net as Joseph fucks him harder, “I used to imagine making you suck it, it could fuck your throat without you having to work for it, all you’d have to do is be a nice little holeOHfuck”

Joseph smiles as he draws the head of the dick further into his mouth. It does seem to have a mind all its own, caressing and gently prodding his tongue and cheeks as he sucks it.

“Fuck, sir, please, if you keep fucking me both ways I’m, I’m gonna cum in like ten seconds.”

He doubles his efforts, and that ends up making it five seconds before something slick and earthy spills down his throat. Barclay is moaning, voice higher than he’s ever heard him.

Joseph sits up, wiping his mouth, “That was very good, big guy.”

Barclay smiles at him.

“Now: do it again.”

“FUCK!” Barclay thrashes in the net as Joseph fucks him deep and strokes him roughly, leaning in to kiss his neck, then his cheek as a tear streaks down it.

“Still good?”

“So good, sir, please, wanna be good for you, wanna, fuck.” He cums all over Joseph’s hands and his own tail, whimpering when Joseph pulls his hands away.

“That’s enough research for one night.” Joseph stands, undoing his shorts, “do you want your reward?”

“Fuck yes I do. Sir.” Barclay’s eyes gleam as Joseph steps out of his clothes and plants his feet on either side of the mers tail. He tangles his fingers in chestnut hair and shoves Barclay’s head forward, gasping as he eagerly sucks his dick.

“Good boy, oh very good boy” he braces his free arm on the wall, “christ your mouth is amazing, now I am for sure keeping you all to myself, the, the thing I wasn’t planning at all on before, ohgod” his orgasm barrels toward him at record speed, “yes, that’s it, right there, ohmygod, Barclay, Barclay.” He cums hard, releasing the mers hair as he shudders and moans.

A beard tickles his thigh, “Always wanted to do that.”

“Glad to help.” He flops down to the floor, undoing the net until Barclay is able to remove the rest himself, “in retrospect it’s good we had those years apart. If we’d started doing that in our teens we’d never have gotten anything done. Just lain on the beach and fucked.”

“Man, now I’m wishing I had a time machine.” Barclay teases as he cuddles into Stern’s arms, draping his tail over his legs, “but yeah. I mean, I don’t regret how I spent the last two decades. Just really, really wish they’d included you.”

“Me too.” Joseph turns so they’re face to face, “I meant what I said the other day about living around here permanently. It’s not like I can go back to my old life. And I’m not sure I really want to. So…maybe we could make up for those missed years?”

His merman rubs their cheeks together, “Took the words right outta my mouth.”

#agent stern/barclay #sternclay #taz amnesty #mermay #terato #human/monster romance #monster boyfriend

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thatbanditqueen · 1 year

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Based on the comment section between you and @whositmcwhatsit on that ask 👀 what palm springs girl 🫣 and any interviews you mind sharing of him on downers that i can listen to? I’ve never really paid attention I don’t think

This is a 1972 interview where I can REALLY tell his is fucked up....

I found it here and orginally got that link from @lynettethemadscientist's amazing compilation of interviews and film links....

As for the girl... warning the guys say she was 14, but she was actually 18 and @whositmcwhatsit very kindly added a newspaper source in their reblog.... here is the excerpt from Alanna Nash' Elvis and the Memphis Mafia book .... as a side note, anything Alanna Nash wrote or interviews she did should probably be taken w a grain of salt.

MARTY LACKER: That year, ’71, was when the overdoses started. The worst one happened after a show at Tahoe. Sonny told me about it. Elvis saw this girl in the second row, and he was really taken with her. She was a teenager. Real innocent. A nondrinker, nonsmoker. Didn’t even wear makeup. And she was crazy about Elvis Presley. She and her mother would drive to Vegas to see him. And her mother was with her at the Tahoe show.

Elvis waved to her from the stage, and after the show, he told Sonny to bring her backstage. She sent her mother home, and she stayed with Elvis that night and, actually, for quite a bit of his engagement. He’d give her pills so she could keep up his hours.

One night after the show, they went to Palm Springs. Elvis was taking Hycodan, which is a narcotic, analgesic cough syrup. In large doses, that stuff’s dangerous. Elvis and this girl were drinking it out of champagne glasses. They didn’t go to bed until about four A.M., and when they did, they took their Hycodan with them.

By one o’clock the next day, Elvis wasn’t up. Sonny banged on the door. And when Elvis didn’t answer, he went inside. It was like a meat locker in there, Elvis kept the temperature so low. Sonny said Elvis was sprawled across the bed lengthways, and his breathing was real erratic.

Well, Sonny freaked out and went and got Hamburger James. And it took a while, but they eventually got Elvis up, and slapped him back to consciousness. Then he took some Ritalin and came out of it.

The girl was another story. She was in much worse shape. They couldn’t slap her awake, and she barely had a pulse. Sonny said she was dying right there in front of them.

They phoned Dr. Kaplan and he came up there and called an ambulance. He was shocked at how far gone she was, and he warned them that she probably wouldn’t make it. She was already turning blue. Elvis was telling him what to do, you know, “Just give her a shot of Ritalin and shell pop out of it.” I think everybody was pretty disgusted by that. But he used to just hand out Ritalin tablets to all of us in the late sixties. Elvis was just Ritalin nuts. He always thought no matter how bad you got, that’s all you needed. He also thought it was a good way to wake up.

Charlie was there, and he and Sonny followed the ambulance to the hospital. They pumped the girl’s stomach and hooked her up to life support, but Dr. Kaplan was still saying he didn’t think she’d live. But Elvis just waved it off. He said, “I told her not to drink so much of that.” And he went in the bedroom and called Colonel Parker and John O’Grady, I think, and Dick Grob, to make sure the Palm Springs police stayed out of it and that it didn’t hit the papers. And then they came up with this plan that if she did die, Charlie would take the rap. He’d say she was his date, and he’d given her the stuff.

Elvis and the Memphis Mafia

Well, something like seventeen hours later, the girl came to. Charlie and Sonny went to the hospital, and Sonny said when he touched her arm, she came halfway off the bed and started hissing at him like a wild animal. It scared the shit out of him. The doctor said she was suffering from oxygen deprivation to the brain. Elvis paid her hospital bill, and he had Joe get in touch with her mother and offer her some money. But the mother wouldn’t take anything. She said they’d never sue. They didn’t want to hurt his image.

The thing is, Elvis never got in touch with that girl. Didn’t go to the hospital and didn’t call her when she got out.

Later on, Joe ran into her and her mother again in Vegas. They were there for the show, sleeping in their car. He got a room for them at the hotel, and Elvis paid for it. Sonny went to see her, and she told him she didn’t hold Elvis responsible. But Sonny said her whole personality had changed.

Elvis and the Memphis Mafia

LAMAR FIKE: I think this thing with the girl in Palm Springs got really close to Elvis, and the fact that she almost died scared the water out of him. And I think he thought, “Holy shit! I really got off lucky here! So let’s not bring this up anymore. I don’t want to think about it.”

But pretty soon he was back to his old ways. Elvis could pick out a girl in the third row, six chairs over, and say, “She’s going to go down tonight.” And he’d be right.

BILLY SMITH: He had a lot of fear there. At first, it was fear that “God, if she had died!” And then it was, “That dumb bitch! She could have jerked me down right with her and ruined my career!” He totally denied the fact that he was the cause of it.

MARTY LACKER: Elvis was a very selfish person in some regards. He did what he wanted to do, and he didn’t give a shit the way it affected anybody else.

BILLY SMITH: I think to some extent Elvis lost touch with the feelings of other people. He changed from humble to hard. Deep down, Elvis was a good person. He was just a victim of a lot of things that changed him and made him the way he was. He got more depressed in later years. The drugs enhanced the pressures, made them seem a lot worse. But he didn’t deal with them directly. Instead, he chose to take more drugs.

There were a lot of times I hoped he would snap out of it and become the strong individual that I’d seen in the earlier days. When he really wanted to, he could still focus and say, “Hold it. This is the way it’s going to be.” But he did that less in the later years.

pages 517 - 520

I would like to point out that this was 1971!!!!!!!! And all those boys just kept on working for him......

The worst part of reading this for me is that yes, its scary and horrifying, but I also know if I was in active addiction drinking hycodan I could absolutely see myself wanting to share that with a play mate, get them on my level, and not thinking about how my tolerance was accumulated over many years and my own study of pharmacology.... when you are doing that level of drugs you become completely desensitized to what is normal and not normal behavior. I also relate to wanting to use my power to get someone else to take the fall.... Elvis was the first mega rock star in many ways, he didn't have anyone ahead of him whose example he could really follow.... Rudy Vallee? Bing Crosby? Johnny Cash didn't stay sober until 1992.... in many ways, through the shortfalls of his management, his film career, his drug addiction, Elvis was our sacrificial lamb to rock stardom... a Shakespearean tragedy....

The truth is, while I haven't lived that level of success or lifestyle, I can relate to Elvis in every aspect of his being, which is why I forgive him (is it my place, no, but I am one of his fans, so maybe yes?). Is it weird that I want him but also see parts of myself in him???? But also, when I write him in fic, I must confess that he is always an amalgamation of my own fantasies and my character study of him......

Sorry Bri - this got away from me, as it usually does.... here is a happy photo of him from 1977 to remind us it wasn't all dark, from Hawaii where he had luck kicking drugs for short periods of time....

xoxoxo Norah

#elvis darker side #enabling enablers #poor charlie though

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the-w0nder-beards · 1 year

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#mine #photography #california #travel #photographers on tumblr #nature #landscape photography #landscape #california photography #keep tahoe blue #Tahoe #winter photography

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josiebelladonna · 15 days

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My whole life, I’ve been looking for the warmth of Carson City in 1998 again. Where’s the beach?

I may seem like a sturgeon but I live in a sardine can.

The straits off the coast beckoned you. I still have the faded daguerreotype of you plastered on my arm to guide my way. The blue lights are turning me on.

Diablo canyon becomes you.

your silver is my gold. your olive skin in the martini of my hand.

black hair floating on the ocean surface. He’ll survive when I get there.

you’re the eclipse over the lush woods, the moon set over the Dead Sea, the fullest beauty that I could ever imagine.

my wish to feel the ocean within you will never come true until I leave Malaysia 370 times.

the water is cold to which I lay low in Crater Lake, and I surface in Lake Tahoe.

I’m like a volcano how I swim to the surface and the fire burns on the crown of my head. Maybe I’m the devil?

drowning in fire.

your belly up and I want to kiss you there. I know you’re soft. I feel your silken voice on the back of my neck and I bet you think of me.

would you rather spend the night in the museum or the aquarium?

I make gourmet fish food… does that bother you?

I make gourmet fish food and I have the secrets locked away under the chest drawer. All my memories are bound within there.

I was born on the beach and I lost my way back to the ocean. The salt on my face, the great wide abyss enshrouded with the wind, the clotted of kelp, and I find the smallest tide pool on the side of the road, hoping to find that old sailor again.

the challenger deep resides within me and I’m afraid of you falling in.

I buried my heart under the Golden Gate Bridge and revived it under the Brooklyn Bridge only to keep it a secret with the Gulf Stream.

meet me in Miami where we can dance under the realm of flare guns and stone down some bastards.

don’t swim in the Irish Sea (just don’t).

my heart broke when I was taken. My heart broke more when the ice expanded over the waters and kept me from returning. I vowed I could never feel anything again when the house in the sticks burned up in oblivion.

You’re fascinating. Come here.

the dragonlord rides the kraken for a couple of guilders and you go back in that kitchen for a good time and a pot of boiling water.

pools of blood where my love used to lay are worming their way into your lungs.

the most beautiful veins crowned with tentacles to the point my face turns blue with optimism.

I knew I would find the sea again when my grandmother protected me from the territory. I had the map in hand when my grandfather slipped away from the straits.

there better be a heaven.

#aquatic/mermay-related limericks i wrote late last night 🤷🏻‍♀️#poetry #prose #words words words #mermay #lyrics #limerick #text

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archoniluthradanar · 1 year

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Daughter's Day : a sequel to Father's Day

A man and woman entered the castle through the front door, just like a tourist might when led in by Heidi to their ill-fated demise. They walked the long badly-lit corridor, then entered the elevator that took them to a lower floor. The doors slid open, and the pair strode past the secretary, who protested vehemently in Italian. The woman took the hand of the man walking beside her, leading him deeper into the snake pit.

"Stay close to me," she hissed the warning to him.

The handsome young man smiled and held her hand tighter. "I'm not afraid, sweetheart."

"I know you're not. You never were. That's why I fell in love with you." She stopped walking, and turning to the man, gave him a kiss.

His blue eyes sparkled, even in this dull light. His smile, as always, touched her unbeating heart in a way no one else ever had. When they had first met, she thought him pompous and arrogant. But later, Adara realized that he was just that intelligent. Few men sparked her mind, after all the education she'd received over the centuries. Before him, only Aro...her father... had been one to open her mind to so many things.

"Come on, dear heart, we have to keep moving."

The man nodded and walked beside Adara, hoping for the best. When he lived in London, the women there seemed too bland and uninteresting. Then he moved to America where he ended up in Los Angeles. One day, while looking over shelves in the L.A. central library for books about philosophical science, he had met the most amazing woman. She was beautiful, intelligent, witty, and spoke as if she were from another time.

On their first non-date, they had argued over coffee about their individual views on life, but he noticed she had not taken one sip of her now-cold beverage. When they left the coffee shop, they had almost gone their separate ways, but he had turned and ran after her, then demanded her phone number. Yes, he actually demanded it. And she gave it to him, then kissed his cheek before floating away. She was so graceful, it was as if she floated an inch over the sidewalk. It had to be an illusion, he told himself. But after a year, he knew he was in love with her. Adara Volturi was the woman he was going to marry.

She ended up agreeing with him. "I know you love me," she had said, before hugging him while laughing low. "What's even stranger is I love you too."

Six months later, he had proposed, and they had moved in together. Then they eloped to South Lake Tahoe, marrying one Saturday, with only a few close friends in attendance.

They proceeded on down the corridor that appeared as medieval as they come. The man knew the family was old, but the reality of it was only just hitting him now.

Adara saw several of the guards stop what they were doing to glance at her as they passed by. They nodded at Adara as a courtesy because she was Master Aro's daughter, but they frowned at the man beside her.

The man felt completely safe as long as he was with Adara, but he knew his continuing survival would rest in the hands of her father. Destroying people was something he was expert at, according to Adara. Judge, jury, and occasional executioner was how she had described him. No one was safe from Volturi punishment, not vampire nor human, if they believed you guilty of a crime.

The couple came to a set of heavy wooden doors with large metal doorknockers hanging on each side. Adara didn't bother to use them. She reached out and easily pushed the doors open. Entering the throne room unannounced was something she had done often, never having to ask permission, so why start now.

Aro was speaking with Marcus, when he heard the doors open and turned to see Adara entering. Stunned, he got up from his throne and walked down the three steps to the main floor. She had returned home. His eyes glanced at the man who stood quietly at her side.

"Hello, Uncle Marcus, Uncle Caius." She smiled at both men seated on their own thrones and who also seemed shocked at her return.

Aro walked up to Adara and gazed at her, a wide smile on his face and pleasure in his eyes. "Come to my office, daughter. We will talk."

Adara gripped her husband's hand, letting him understand he was safe here. They followed Aro to his office, noticing several people unfamiliar to her watching them as they passed. Adara was satisfied knowing as long as they were with Aro, no one would dare touch the lone human in the castle.

Once in his office, Aro indicated they should sit on the leather sofa, while he took the chair at his desk. He smiled at his daughter. "It might have been nice had you notified us of your impending return home, Adara. We could have had a proper welcome waiting for you."

"I wasn't sure I was coming back until two days ago. I've been happy for the last three years, Father. And in fact, it was Julian who convinced me to do this. To come here to make my peace with you."

"Julian?" Aro eyes moved to the man sitting at Adara's side.

"Yes, Father, this is Julian Tyler, my husband."

"Husband?" Aro could smell the scent that betrayed the man's nature.

"Humans don't call them mates, Father."

Aro's eyes flashed. "I know what a husband is, daughter, but he is human!" Aro compared the tanned flesh of the human male to the beauty of Adara's iridescently pale skin. His hair was dark brown, with dark eyebrows that framed clear blue eyes. Human eyes. Aro noticed his daughter's hand grasping the human's, as if to reassure him. How touching, he thought. He didn't know she was the one drawing strength from her husband.

When he saw Adara glare at him, he relented and gave her a pleading look. "I've missed you since the day you left us. You do understand I did not force you to return. I could have had Demetri track you down and drag you back home, but I did not." He stood. "Will you not embrace your father, Adara?"

She looked over at Julian, who nodded.

Aro bit back a retort to her action he felt was an insult to him. How could she ask the human for permission to embrace her own father. Instead, he held his arms open.

Adara stepped up to Aro, feeling his arms close around her. She leaned into him, and for a brief moment, forgot her reasons for leaving Volterra. She just held her father tightly, then gave him a kiss on his cheek. Adara stepped back, expecting to see censure in his eyes. There was none. When he gestured for her to sit, Adara moved to re-join her husband on the sofa.

Aro had almost begged for his daughter's forgiveness when she hugged him. He had missed her more than anything, yet could not show any demonstrative behavior in front of the human who was obviously able to give her what he had not. Unconditional love.

No one said anything for three whole minutes. Finally, Aro asked, "Does he know?"

Adara looked at her husband and smiled. She turned back to Aro and replied, "Everything."

"How did this happen?" Aro sat back in his seat, his hands clasped together.

"Julian is English. He moved to America almost five years ago. We met at the public library. Later, he invited me for coffee and we discussed..."

"Argued." Julian said, interrupting.

"All right, love, argued," Adara continued. "about the philosophy of science."

Aro lowered his head to hide his smile. She was still her father's daughter.

"He noticed I hadn't drunk the coffee he bought for me. He's a very observant person. But he still asked me out again. It wasn't long before we knew we were in love, Father."

Aro raised a brow. "And you told him what you are?"

"Not right away. But as I said, he's very observant. He noticed I shied away from direct sunlight. After many dates, he came to the conclusion I never ate or drank. One time, he caught me without my contact lenses on. I had no choice but to explain. I feared once he knew, I would lose him." She felt his hand squeeze her hard cold one. She looked over at him, bumping her shoulder against his playfully. "But he didn't leave."

"Why didn't you change him?" Aro asked.

"Without his permission? I wouldn't do that."

"She asked me, sir, and I refused. That was that." Julian wasn't really ready to make such a literal life-changing decision, and Adara had said she would give him the time he wanted to decide. She hoped he would agree since she did love him, and didn't want to lose him to a wasteful thing like death. In the mean time, they lived in a nice city apartment like any married couple. They had friends, used the onsite pool when it was cloudy out, and gave parties. Adara avoided the sun, food and drink, but still managed to enjoy her life. She and Julian made love as any couple would, with Adara being careful not to lose complete control over her passions. It actually excited Julian when he thought of what she could do to him if she happened to lose control.

"Unacceptable," Aro barked. "If you two remain here, he must be changed as soon as possible, daughter."

Adara glanced up at Aro. "Who said we were staying, Father?"

Aro's eyes went wide. Confusion took the place of annoyance. She had returned to Volterra to what, gloat? Show him what little respect she had for her heritage, her birthright? To force this human on him, then go back to America to live the pretense of a mortal life? He rubbed his forehead, then peered at Adara, his crimson eyes focused on hers currently hidden beneath blue contact lenses. She was home, and had no need for them here, so why hadn't she removed them?

"Father, Julian is my mate, if you will. We're happy in America. If you ever want to visit us, you will be more than welcome. The truth is, I love you so very much. But we can't live this life you've constructed for the coven. If Julian wants to be like us, I'll change him myself. And we will continue to live the life we have chosen for ourselves."

Aro wished he could read them both, but declined to ask. He knew what their answer would be anyway. If he wanted to keep Adara in his life, he had to acquiesce to her demands. If the human made her happy, what more could he, as her father, want. He would have to hope as the years continued to pass, Julian would decide immortality with Adara was better than dying.

"Father, are you all right? You seem very quiet."

Aro stood and walked to the other side of the desk. He sat on its edge, looking down at the couple. "I have decided that you are independent of the Volturi, Adara. I just want you to be happy. I like the idea of visiting you in America. And of course, having you two visit us here."

Adara laughed. HE decided. "Yes, Father, thank you. And Julian, thank you for advising me to come here." She leaned in and kissed him.

Aro rolled his eyes and waited for Adara to move away from the human. He leaned down to be closer to the human. "Take good care of my daughter. If anything happens to her, or if I hear she's unhappy, I will not wait to come after you."

Julian's brows raised, his expression one of amused fear. "Yes, sir. No need to worry on any account. She is as important to me as she is to you."

Aro merely said, "Uh huh. Now if you need money, you've only to ask. Money is never an issue."

Adara protested. "Father! We don't need your money. We just wanted your...approval."

Aro reached down and taking Adara's hand, kissed her knuckles. "You have that, my beloved daughter."

Adara had noticed that Aro was wearing her ruby ring. She felt a pang of regret. As hard as it was to articulate, she placed her hand on Aro's arm. "Father, may I have my ring back? I was sorry I had left it behind. It was supposed to be hurtful to you, but it only hurt me once I realized what I had done. Please forgive me."

Aro removed the too-small ring from his finger, and placed it on Adara's hand. He then kissed the ring before hugging Adara. He murmured in her ear, "Non c'è niente da perdonare."

He rose from the desk. "Now stay with us for a few days. Marcus and Caius would love to see you, I'm sure. Show your mate...your husband around the castle, if you wish. Go into town. Have some fun." He faced the human his daughter had chosen to love. Aro placed his hand on the man's shoulder. "Thank you for bringing my daughter home." Then all three of them left the office to return to the throne room and the other waiting masters.

#the volturi #aro volturi #twilight fanfiction #volturi fanfiction

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