#and wasn’t expecting a call from little Madeline

[artificialroux]

maddie swallowed hard, staring at the blood on her hands. if this was survival, then why did it feel like they were already dead?

notes and lore about my yellowjackets oc, she's still currently in development as i wait for s3 to be finished. post layout heavily inspired by @puppybutcher.

MADELINE "MADDIE" SHEPHERD ( lamb drawn to the slaughter. )

played by olivia scott welch

PRE-CRASH

born madeline annabelle shepard, first name derived from the greek name magdalenē, which is associated with mary magdalene, a disciple of jesus who came from magdala.

maddie grew up in wiskayok, in a busy but loving household as the middle child of three sisters, constantly overshadowed by their academic and athletic achievements.

she was raised surrounded by faith. church on sundays, whispered prayers before bed, the quiet presence of religious symbols in her childhood home. it was something her parents believed in fiercely even if they weren't at church every day of the week. something that was supposed to make sense, supposed to make her feel safe, but for maddie faith was never simple.

she wanted to believe—really, truly believe—but it never settled into her bones the way it did for others. she tried. god knows, she tried. she went through the motions, clasped her hands together in prayer, recited the words with everyone else. but deep down, she always had questions. what if god wasn’t really listening? what if he was, and he just didn’t care? what if there was nothing at all? doubt crept into the quiet spaces of her mind, but she never spoke it aloud. because faith was supposed to be unshakable. and maddie? she was always shaking.

at age 12 maddie was diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder, right as she was entering middle school. it had been building up for years—stomachaches before big events, trouble sleeping, overthinking every little mistake—but it wasn’t until she started having more frequent panic attacks and struggling to focus in class that her parents took her to a doctor.

the diagnosis made sense to her, but it didn’t necessarily make things easier. she wasn’t the type to talk about it much, not wanting to be seen as fragile or difficult. she learned to manage it in her own ways—through routines, distractions, and throwing herself into hobbies—but it was always there, a quiet weight she carried.

spirit in her step, fire in her smile—wiskayok’s heartbeat on the sidelines.

from a young age, maddie was drawn to cheerleading. she loved the way it made her feel—like she belonged to something bigger than herself. she wasn’t the loudest or most outgoing cheerleader, but she had a natural talent for movement and rhythm, and she worked hard to perfect her routines. her sisters would sometimes help her practice, holding her steady as she tried out new stunts or braiding her hair before competitions.

on game days, she especially loved cheering for the girls' soccer team, the energy of the field fueling her own as she called out chants and pushed herself to keep up with the intensity of the game.

the weight of representing wiskayok was pressing on her shoulders—but even then, she never imagined it would be the last time cheerleading truly felt like her world.

maddie hadn’t expected to go to nationals. only a few of the senior cheerleaders were chosen to accompany the soccer team, and with so many girls ahead of her, she figured she’d be cheering from home. but when the final list was announced, her name was there. it felt unreal—one last big trip with the team before graduation, a chance to prove herself on a bigger stage.

she was nervous, excited, ready. boarding that plane, all she could think about was the game, the routine, the thrill of it all. she never imagined none of it would matter.

WILDERNESS

i don't belong here.

the first thing maddie registers is the heat. it rolls over her in waves, thick with smoke, stinging her eyes before she even opens them. something heavy is pressing into her chest, making it hard to breathe. the air smells like burnt plastic and fuel—and blood, and she hears muffled screams all around her. she blinks, vision swimming. everything is sideways. the world has tilted. the seatbelt digs into her ribs, keeping her suspended at an unnatural angle. maddie chokes back a sob, throat tightening with panic.

the screaming is getting louder. she has to move. her hands fumble with the seatbelt, fingers numb and shaking. the buckle won’t—fucking—budge. her breath comes too fast, too shallow, she can’t breathe, she can’t—then it snaps open. she falls forward, catching herself against the seat in front of her. her limbs feel like they belong to someone else, unsteady and sluggish as she stumbles into the aisle. bodies. so many bodies. some still, some barely moving, some missing parts that should be there.

after the crash, most of the few cheer members were killed on impact because they were sitting towards the front of the plane, either from the plane breaking apart, being thrown from their seats, or being crushed under wreckage. maddie stands frozen in shock after running out from the plane—she now was completely alone in a group that wasn’t hers to begin with.

she saw reminders of the other cheerleaders in the wreckage—a stray pompom, a crushed megaphone, a jacket that belonged to one of them—and it made her queasy. this makes her relationships with the soccer girls more complicated. she has no one who truly understands her old world, so she either has to integrate with them or be left behind. it pushes her toward lottie’s influence later on—looking for purpose in all the senseless loss.

maddie clung to scraps of warmth as the wilderness unraveled her.

maddie becomes closest to lottie in the wilderness. while she connects with others, lottie is the one who soothes her anxieties in a way no one else does, offering a strange but undeniable sense of comfort. their bond deepens during doomcoming when lottie quietly braids some strands of maddie’s hair—just like her sisters used to do for her. it’s a small but intimate gesture, one that makes maddie feel seen in a way she hasn’t since the crash.

after the crash, her faith became something else entirely. at first, she prayed like never before. desperate. hollow. raw. she begged for a rescue, for warmth, for safety, late at night when no one could hear. she prayed for the souls of the ones they lost, even the ones they had to eat. but the more time passed, the more survival demanded of them, the more god felt like silence. she watched as lottie’s influence grew, filling the void where faith had once lived.

maddie wanted to resist, wanted to hold onto what little she had left of the faith she grew up with. but she was tired. she was hungry. and she was afraid that if she let go, she’d have nothing left. so she followed. not blindly—not like the others—but because she needed something to hold onto. maybe lottie was right. maybe there was something in the wilderness watching over them. maybe faith wasn’t about god at all. maybe it was about survival.

but even then, doubt never fully left her. it was always there, lingering beneath the surface. a quiet, gnawing thing in the back of her mind. because if there really was something out there—if something was listening—then why did it demand so much from them? and if it wasn’t god, then what the hell was it?

the lamb wasn't ready, but the wilderness was.

after weeks of winter, food runs dangerously low, and the group begins to truly fear starvation. the tension has been building for weeks, whispers of sacrifice hanging in the cold air. maddie, already weighed down by guilt and a growing sense of detachment, starts to believe she is meant to be the one to go. she tells herself it would be easier this way—that if she gives herself up, maybe the others will survive, maybe the wilderness will be satisfied. she offers herself to be eaten instead of participating in the hunt. the guilt of survival, the desperation, and lottie’s growing influence all collide in that moment—she truly believes it’s the only way to atone.

but when the others refuse, when even lottie hesitates, she’s forced to keep living, to reconcile with the fact that she’s not ready to die. because now, she isn’t just surviving—she’s waiting. for what, she isn’t sure. but the wilderness isn’t finished with her yet. this changes her, deepens the conflict within her—between faith and fear, between surrender and survival.

ADULT TIMELINE

played by victoria pedretti

she tried to outrun the wilderness, but in the end, it was always waiting to take her back.

maddie had spent years convincing herself she’d left the wilderness behind. she built a life that was quiet, structured—something she could control. a career helping children, a marriage she thought was love, a world where the past couldn’t reach her. she had been young when she married him, blinded by devotion, desperate for something safe, something certain. but love turned to control, affection to manipulation, and soon she found herself trapped in a life that felt just as suffocating as the wilderness.

by the time the yellowjackets returned to her life, so had the unraveling of everything she had tried to build. the divorce was already in motion, a bitter, drawn-out fight that left her feeling hollow. but that emptiness was nothing compared to what came next. the hunt. the blood. the whispers of the forest that had never really let her go.

at first, she tried to hold on, to remind herself that she wasn’t that girl anymore. but the more the past unraveled around her, the more she felt it creeping back in. the fear. the hunger. the aching knowledge that some things were never meant to stay buried.

[dclovesdanny]

Dcxdp

Biofam 4/5

Maddie didn’t speak to her father, as did her sister. Unfortunately, that made it hard for them to contact their favorite uncle, but when they left at eighteen, they both agreed it was for the best. Even after they found out the old man was dead, they didn’t reach out, unsure of what they would say.

That was then.

Now, with shaking hands covered in ectoplasm,(god her baby was hurt, she had been hurting her baby, THOSE BASTARDS IN WHITE HURT HER BABIES) she dialed the number that she had never managed to forget.

“Hello, who is this and how did you get this number?” The British accent soothed a part of her she hadn’t noticed was tense.

“Uncle Alfred.” Maddie could barely choke out his name, hands still shaking. “I need help.”

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Me, You, and Baby, Too

Summary: You and Joel have always wanted kids, but didn't want to rush into having them until you both were ready. After a surprise at his job, Joel realizes there's nothing more he wants to do than put a baby in you as soon as he gets home.

Pairing: Husband!Joel Miller x Wife!Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 4.1K

Warnings: SMUT (18+), unprotected p in v sex (it's baby making time, so hush), oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, big ole fat and nasty breeding kink (.... don't look at me it's bad), creampie, cum play, talks of starting a family, calling Joel "Daddy" (in the sense you want to have his babies, but also 🤷🏼‍♀️), Sweet soft Joel who loves his wife and would give her the universe if he could, honestly with just the way Joel is talking about makin' babies, I think I'm pregnant

A/N: It's that time of the month where Madeline ovulates and writes feral breeding kink smut!!! 🤪 Okay I am so nervous to post this because I have never written for Joel before and I'm worried it's trash with a capital T, but after re-watching TLOU, I need 2003 Joel Miller carnally, so here we are. This is also inspired by @mrsmando post about 2003 Joel Miller constantly keeping you barefoot and pregnant because it made me unwell, and no lies were told. (thanks for ruining my life mimi) 🤠 ANYWHO I hope you guys like it, and if not, I'll shut up and go back to writing Javi and Frankie and pretend like this didn't happen

There were a lot of stereotypical answers that you expected from your husband when you asked him how his day at work had been:  

“Good.” 

“Fine.” 

“Long.” 

“My knees are killin’ me.” 

“Tommy did somethin’ fuckin’ stupid again.” 

“Better now that I’m home with you.” 

So when Joel arrived home today after a new job he had started with Tommy on a bathroom renovation, there were few things that could have prepared you for the response your husband had when you asked him how his day had gone. 

“Hey, honey. How was your day today?” You smiled, watching Joel stroll in through your front door, kicking off his work boots at the entryway, beginning to put away his things before strolling into the kitchen to greet you. 

“Pretty good." He paused, leaning in for a quick kiss before making his way over to the closet before speaking again. "Saw a real cute baby today.” 

You could practically feel your heart skip a beat as you looked up from the vegetables you had been cutting up for dinner, tightening the grip you had around your knife to make sure you didn’t drop it in shock. 

Out of all the things for Joel to bring up on the first day at a new job, a cute baby had been at the top of the list.

Not floor plans. 

Not timelines for the project.

Not something stupid that Tommy did. 

Not even what he had done today on the job. 

The top news that Joel Miller had to report back to you about his day was the sighting of a cute baby. 

You and Joel had always agreed that you’d wanted kids, and your husband had been not only adamant, but genuinely excited at the prospect of becoming a dad. But only being a little less than a year into your marriage, the two of you had decided you didn’t want to rush into anything, and when the time felt right, you’d both know it. 

But one by one, as your friends began to announce their pregnancies, baby showers, and pictures of their adorable newborns, you couldn’t help but deny the baby fever starting to burn hotter and hotter inside you with every passing day. 

You’d brought it up in passing a few times with Joel, talking about your friends who had kids, or a cute mom and her children you saw walking around in your neighborhood, and while he had always had a positive response to what you had to say, you just had a feeling that now just wasn’t the time for the two of you yet, and that was okay.  

But here you were, standing in your kitchen, jaw practically scraping the ground at the notion that your husband had dropped just about the least subtle hint ever that babies weren’t just at the forefront of your mind- they were on his, too. 

“Awh, really?” You asked, shaking your head to snap out of your shocked state, returning back to dice the onion you had been working on before Joel could turn around to see you after finishing hanging up his things in the closet, trying to subtly coax more information out of him. 

“Yeah.” He smiled, joining you in the kitchen, wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you closer to his chest for a soft kiss to greet you, “The family we’re startin’ the bathroom reno for just moved in. Had their first baby a few months ago and just hadn’t had time to work on fixin’ things.” 

“So they’re already putting the baby to work with you and Tommy?” You teased, raising an eyebrow at Joel playfully, giving him a quick peck back on the lips as he laughed at your sass. 

“Cheap labor.” Joel shrugged back, playing into the joke, “Nah, she woke up from her nap while Tommy and I were runnin’ through some measurements so her mom brought her out for the last lil bit we were there. She was damn cute, too. Just smilin’ and laughin’ at everything.” 

You were glad Joel’s arm was still wrapped around your hip, because you were convinced if it wasn’t, you were about to melt to the floor into a puddle, watching how soft and sweet Joel was talking about a cute, smiling baby. 

“Well a cute baby definitely sounds like a very nice perk of being on the job.” You smirked, trying to play it cool enough to keep your heart from bursting out of your chest. 

“Yeah.” Joel replied softly, quietly pausing for a moment, watching the gears turning in his brain, carefully calculating his words before he spoke. 

“You okay?” You asked, looking up at Joel, knowing your husband well enough that he had something on his mind he was trying to work up the confidence to spit out. 

Joel looked back down at you, big brown eyes locking with yours as his grip around your waist tightened ever so slightly, tongue swiping against his plush bottom lip as he took a long, deep breath in and slow exhale out.  

“Honey, what is it?” You asked again, now slightly concerned with how nervous your husband looked in his stoic silence, reaching up to gently wrap your fingers around his arm, thumb stroking his skin. 

“I want one.” 

You froze, worried that your heart may have actually stopped as you looked at Joel, making sure that you had really just heard what he had said. 

“W-what?” 

“I want one. A baby. I- I know it’s been a while since we’ve talked about it, but I’ve been thinkin’ about it a lot, and seein’ that baby today, it just- shit, I just couldn’t stop picturin’ what it would be like to have one of our own I guess.” 

If you weren’t a puddle before, you sure as fuck were now.  

An overwhelming sensation of nerves and excitement began thrumming through your veins, your heart beat pounding in your ears as your face grew warm and a smile started to spread between your cheeks. You were almost certain you had to be dreaming, asking again to make sure that someone needed to come and wake you up and send you back to reality. 

“Joel… Really?” 

“Yeah, really. Nothin’ I want more. I know I ain’t gonna even be close to the perfect dad, but I know you’ll be sucha good mom, and I’ll be damned if I don’t want some tiny lil versions of us runnin’ around. Couldn’t think of anything that would make me happier than that. Like I said, I know that we ain’t talked about in a while, and if ya aren’t ready yet that’s okay but I-” 

Before Joel could even finish the rest of his thought, you were pressing up to plant your lips to his with passionate intensity, hands roaming up his chest before cupping his jaw and the scratchy stubble of his cheeks while your stomach flipped with arousal and want, already feeling a damp patch beginning to pool in the cotton of your underwear. 

You pulled away, kisses traveling along his jawline and up his neck until you were nipping at his ear, the hot breath of your words whispering against his skin. 

“You wanna make a baby, Joel Miller?” 

“Fuck-” Joel groaned, reaching his other arm around you grab at your ass, pulling you in tight enough to feel the bulge beginning to grow under the denim of his worn jeans, pressing against your thigh.

“‘Cause there’s nothing that I want more than to make you a daddy.” You smirked, looking up to watch Joel’s eyes darken with lust, jaw going slack as a low groan rumbled in his chest, his once half hard cock now fully erect and straining against his zipper, trying to keep from giggling watching your husband try to string together any sort of thoughts to speak. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ-” He moaned, running his hand over his face to try and regain his composure to keep from busting right then and there. “You- fuck, you sure, baby?” 

“Mhmmmm. Don’t think I’ve ever been so sure of anything in my whole life. So sure,” you paused, softly pressing your lips to his between words, “that I think we should go make one right now.” 

Your adamant confirmation was all it took to set off something almost animalistic in Joel, crashing his lips back into yours in a messy clash of tongues and teeth, gripping his hands under your thighs to hoist you up around his hips and lock your legs behind the small of his back. Without ever letting your mouths part, Joel was already halfway to the bedroom before you had even realized it, playfully giggling at how frantically he was carrying you down the hallway, your bodies bumping against the walls and door frames, too focused on desperate and needy kisses for any sort of spatial awareness. 

Finally reaching your bed, Joel carefully laid you down, letting your back fall into the mattress, leaving your lower half to hang off the edge before your husband was on his knees, settling himself between your parted thighs. 

You sat up on your elbows, watching as Joel tightened his grip around the meat of your legs, peppering kisses up the inside of each across your soft skin before coming face to face with your core, planting another soft kiss there before letting his fingers ghost over your heat, still covered by your jeans. 

He rapidly worked at the button of your pants, shuffling them down off your hips to reveal your underwear, now absolutely soaked with arousal from the prospect alone of Joel knocking you up and carrying his baby. 

“Jesus Christ, baby girl, look at ‘cha.” Joel tutted, admiring how the cotton of your underwear clung to the outline of your cunt, sticking to the puffy and swollen lips of your pussy from how wet you were. “Haven’t even touched ya yet. This all for me, darlin’?” 

Just as you began to try and answer, Joel took one of his fingers, barely dragging it over the damp fabric before beginning to rub soft circles over your covered clit, eliciting a pathetic whimper from you at the electric sensation.  

“F-fuck- It’s all for you, b-baby.” You stammered, moaning even louder as a second finger joined the first, pressing more pressure into you sensitive nub as he nudged each of your legs to drape over his shoulders, his free hand tugging at the waistband of your underwear, making you instinctually lift your hips as he yanked them off your legs to crumple in a messy pile with your pants. 

“Prettiest fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever seen.” Joel mewled, running his fingers up and down through the weeping seams of your folds, toying with your entrance while draping his arm across your hips to hold your squirming lower half in place. “Wants me to fuck her full of me and fill her up so bad, huh?” 

“P-please, Joel. Want you to fill me up so badly.” You whimpered, staring down at your husband, a devilish grin spread across his face, licking his lips as his eyes darted back and forth between your blissed out face and the glistening mess between your thighs. 

“I will sweetheart, promise. Gotta taste you first though, baby. Gotta make sure you’re nice n’ready for me. ‘Cause once we start, I ain’t lettin’ you outta this bed ‘till I knock you up.” 

With that, Joel was diving between your legs, lapping you up in long and firm strokes, pressing against your clit in the way he knew would make you fall apart under his tongue. While he would have loved to have spend hours just like this, making you writhe under his touch, drinking up your arousal like a wandering man parched in the heat of the desert, Joel had one thing on his mind, and one thing only- 

To get you pregnant.   

Joel began to intensify the pace of his tongue, swirling and sucking around your clit as two of his thick fingers pushed into your heat, sliding in and out of your entrance with ease from how wet and worked up you were. Curling his fingers ever so slightly, you cried out as Joel bumped against your g-spot, pushing against the soft, spongy spot as his tongue worked its magic. 

You could feel the arousal shooting through your veins, heat beginning to bloom in your stomach as Joel fucked you with his fingers and mouth, shooting your hand down to grab fistfulls of his thick, brown hair to brace yourself for your impending orgasm. 

“J-Joel, oh fuck- Fuck, baby, I’m c-close. Don’t stop, please, don’t stop.” You whined, pussy beginning to flutter around Joel’s fingers, the tightening only egging him on further to get you to cross the finish line. 

With just a little more pressure of his tongue, Joel could feel your cunt clamping down around his digits, watching the pleasure shoot through your body as you came, your orgasm crashing through you like a tsunami. 

As you reached your high, Joel drank up your arousal, not faltering in his pace, too focused on your pretty cries of his name being chanted like a prayer to do anything but keep going and making you feel good. 

Truth be told, Joel had gotten so lost between your thighs, the only thing stopping him was the tensing feeling between his, so pussy drunk and determined to fuck you full of him that he was worried he was about to cum too if he didn’t stop. 

Pulling off you, Joel frantically stood up, racing to undo his belt and jeans, yanking them down his legs in tandem with his boxers as his cock slapped against his stomach, precum already pearling from his tip, desperate to be inside of you. His shirt quickly followed his pants, ripping it over his head as his broad body caged yours under him, helping you to scoot back on the bed until your head hit the pillows, trailing kisses up and down your body the whole way. 

As Joel kissed and nipped at your skin, you quickly shuffled off your top and bra, leaving you bare beneath him, moaning as his tongue flicked against each of your newly exposed pebbled nipples, grouping your breast and kneading the soft flesh in his palms. 

Even though you had just came, you could already feel your cunt starting to clench around nothing, desperate to feel Joel inside of you, to stretch you out with his thick cock and fuck you until you couldn’t think straight. But with the way your chest was heaving and breath shaking from your orgasm, you could barely muster out the words you wanted. 

“J-Joel, p-please, baby. P-please.” 

You snaked your hand between your bodies to reach for Joel’s cock, wrapping your fingers around his length and swiping your thumb over his leaking tip, a low groan rumbling in his chest as you stroked him, trying to guide him to slide between your legs and ease your ache. 

Lowering his hips, you moved your hand and let his replace it, Joel pumping himself a few times before guiding his tip between your folds, collecting your slick to coat his cock, using every last ounce of self-control he had as his eyes locked with yours, wanting to see your face as he pushed inside you. 

“Please, what, darlin’?” Joel teased, knowing damn well what you were begging for. 

“Need to feel you, Joel. Need you to put a baby in me.” You moaned, reaching up to grab his face, your palm rubbing against his stubble as your fingers tugged on the curls at the nape of his neck. 

With one more pump, Joel lined himself up with your entrance, sliding into your heat, the sweet stretch and sting of his length making the breath hitch in the back of your throat, filling you up inch by inch until he bottomed out inside you with his tip just kissing your cervix. 

Joel couldn’t help but smirk as he watched your mouth fall open, parted lips letting a soft moan escape while your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head at the newfound sensation, giving you another moment to adjust before he began to slowly roll his hips, dragging his cock in and out of your core. 

“Christ, baby girl, so wet and tight. Like this pussy was made just for me. Made for me to fuck ya full of me until it’s got no choice but to fuckin’ take.” Joel groaned, reaching down to grab your thighs, pinning your knees to your chest, stretching you open to take Joel even deeper, practically feeling him in your stomach with the position he had you in. 

“Joel, oh my god- fuck, you feel so good. Fuck, baby. Want you to fill me up so bad.” You whimpered, Joel now beginning to pick up his pace as he thrust in and out of you, continually punching in that perfect spot over and over again, leaving your brain bordering on short circuiting. 

Joel’s fingertips dug deeper into the flesh of your thighs, pushing your legs down just far enough to be chest to chest with you, the sweat dampened curls of his forehead brushing against yours as your mouths met in an electric kiss, catching each other’s muffled moans with each snap of Joel’s hips. 

“Yeah, sweetheart? Want me to fill you up? Fuck a baby into you? Let everyone see what a pretty momma you are, carryin’ our kid?” Joel grunted, picturing you, months from now, belly round and tits swollen, pregnant with your baby, wondering how many you’d let him give you, because fuck, he’d keep knocking you up until he had nothing left to give. 

Each push and pull of your bodies against each other felt more and more electric, an undeniable coil tightening in your stomach with the way Joel was pounding into you and the hairs at the base of his cock were brushing against your clit, already feeling yourself beginning to teeter on the brink of pleasure once again. 

“Yes, fuck, fuck- yes, Joel. I wanna have your baby. Want you to knock me up so I can make you a daddy. Please, baby, please.” You were all but sobbing at this point, your fingers digging into the tan and sweat sheened skin of Joel’s broad shoulders, overwhelmed by the lewd combinations of Joel’s heavy pants in your ear and wet squelching of your pussy as his pelvis flushed against yours repeatedly. 

Joel could feel you beginning to tighten around him, pussy sucking him in with its warmth and wetness, ready to clamp around his cock and milk him for all he was worth. 

“That’s it, darlin’, I know you’re close. Gotta cum for me first though, baby girl. Gotta feel ya soak me before I stuff ya so full of me, I swear t’god, you’ll be drippin’ outta me for days. So fuckin’ full that I’ll get you pregnant right now.” Joel groaned through gritted teeth, leaning back to reach and grab your leg, wrapping it around the small of his back before you lifted your other to join it, locking your ankles to keep him as close to you as possible. 

“Joel, oh my god, fuck baby, fuck, I’m gonna- fuckfuckfuck-” 

Suddenly, your orgasm was rushing through every inch of you, crying out as the pleasure hit you like a freight train, choking Joel’s cock with your pussy, unable to do anything but relish in the white hot bliss that had you nearly floating out of your own body. 

While Joel would have kept fucking you until the sun went down, the truth was he was relieved to feel you cum, spending every second since your agreement in the kitchen trying to keep from finishing until he was balls deep inside you and you were soaking his cock as you reached your high. The realization that now was his chance to make good on his promise, to fill you up and fuck a baby into you, ignited something primal, feral, in him, pounding into you at a punishing pace as he could feel himself teetering on the brink of collapse right with you. 

“That’s my girl. That’s it, cum all over my cock, baby. Shit, I’m gonna cum too, fuck- gonna fill this tight lil pussy up so goddamn much, give you a baby, make you a momma, oh fuck!” 

With one final stutter of his hips, Joel let out a strangled moan, flushing his hips against yours as he milked himself of every last drop, painting your warm, wet walls with hot ropes of his spend, making sure nothing went to waste. 

He couldn’t help but but press even further into you, plugging you with his length and fucking his cum as deep as he could into your cunt to make sure it took, collapsing on top of you with his cock still buried in your heat, letting your chests heave together in sync as you both caught your breath. 

Joel was convinced he had never cum so much in his entire life, afraid that if he pulled out, that somehow he’d have more left to give, and sure as fuck wasn’t going to risk letting anything coming out of him end up not inside of you. 

Well, not until your muffled grunt rumbled beneath him. 

 “Joel, baby, I love you but you’re kinda squishing me.” You huffed, giggling to yourself as you watched your husband come-to in real time out of his post-orgasmic state, immediately offering a half muttered apology as he rolled off you, sitting back on his knees to admire the shiny and slick mess between your legs. 

“Fuck me…” Joel murmured to himself, eyes wide as he stared at your pussy- wet, puffy and soaking with your arousal, bringing his fingers to your spent hole as he watched a dribble of his cum begin to leak out. Gently scooping it up, he collected everything he could, pressing it back into your cunt before pulling his hand out. Crawling up the bed to lay next to you, Joel wrapped you up in his arms as the little spoon, peppering ticklish kisses over your back and shoulders, making you burst into laughter. 

“Joel, stop! That tickles!” You squealed, squirming in his grasp, trying to defend yourself from his unrelenting attack of soft, plush lips and scratchy beard dancing across your skin. 

“Don’t laugh so damn hard, or all my hard work’s ‘bout to come out!” Joel teased, giving you a playful nudge, pulling you in even closer. 

“Stop making me laugh, then! Plus, I think you came enough to put quadruplets inside of me, so I think we’ll be okay.” You snorted, Joel joining in on the laughter. 

“Baby, I don’t think I’ve ever came that hard in my whole goddamn life.” Joel sighed, shrugging as you rolled your head up to look at him and that stupid goofy grin he got whenever he couldn’t contain his excitement about something. “God, I love you.” 

“I love you too, Joel.” 

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, Joel slowly bringing his arm to rest across your stomach, thumb slowly tracing careful circles on your skin. 

“You’re gonna make such a good mom. I’m the luckiest man alive that you wanna have a family with me. Still not really sure what I ever did to deserve it.” 

“Joel! You’re gonna make me cry! And this is before pregnancy hormones, ya jerk.” You tried to laugh, choking back the tears welling in your eyes. 

“Yeah, what a jerk, your husband tellin’ you how much he loves you.” He teased back, planting a long kiss on your temple, before pressing another one to your lips. Another wave of soft silence followed, watching Joel’s face scrunch in a calculated concentration. “How big of a crib you think I gotta make? I don’t know ‘bout a rockin’ chair, but a crib can’t be that hard. I gotta measure the guest room tomorrow.” 

“Honey, I don’t even know if I’m pregnant yet, you don’t need to have a crib built tomorrow.” You teased, laughing at Joel, despite the fact his mind was already thinking about a baby room and accessories had you melting. 

“Sweetheart, what did I say earlier? I ain’t lettin’ you outta this bed ‘till we know there’s a baby in there.” He smirked, nodding at his hand still splayed across your stomach, “So you better get comfortable, ‘cause if it’s up to me, there ain’t a chance in hell we’re gettin’ anything but a positive pregnancy test at the end of this month, and we'll sure need that crib nine months from now. Never hurts to get a head start."

Tag List: (Sorry if I tagged you and you don't wanna be tagged, just let me know!!)

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper r @nastiasnow @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[its-time-to-write]

chapter 5

guys I got confused and apparently I’ve had chapter five done for a while and the chapter I’ve been stressing over is actually chapter six??? I’m so terribly sorry! But here it is lol, I’m still a bit concerned I’ve written myself into a corner but I’ll post chapter six on Monday if not sooner.

table of contents

at least I’m trying

Jamie’s the one driving the car, but he’s actually worried that he’s about to be a murder victim. He’s never been a big fan of true crime, so he’s not entirely fucking thrilled that he’s going to be come one but he supposes he probably deserves it and anyway, maybe death isn’t so bad in the grand scheme of things.

Except he wants to actually hold Clare and buy her things and tell her he loves her and never leave her ever.

So maybe death-by-Madeline is actually so bad in the grand scheme of things.

“What the HELL is your problem?” she asks, and she’s actually expecting an answer so Jamie has to think fast. What the hell is his problem? No- what has he done in the present for Madeline to come straight from Milan to chew him out?

“What exactly do you mean?” he asks carefully. He needs to make sure Madeline knows he isn’t fucking hostile or some shit, and that maybe if he handles this right she can put a good word in with you.

He knows he’s reaching, but hey. He’s made it this far in life.

Madeline glares at him. “I mean, where the fuck do you get off showing up like this? Are you trying to take Bean? Because let me tell you, only one of us was at the birth and that shit was fucking gross. But the ones who showed up are the ones who get to take care of her, not some deadbeat father who’s too busy kicking a ball and fucking models to actually care about anything.”

That offends Jamie, but it terrifies him more than anything else. Because yes, he wasn’t around, but he didn’t know. And now he does fucking know and he has to actually see if he’s a good father or if being a piece of shit truly is genetic. 

But he can’t imagine treating Clare even a fraction of the way his father treated him, so he’s hopeful.

He says, “I just want them to be taken care of,” and Madeline sighs.

“You can’t keep dragging her around, Tartt,” she reminds him as if he didn’t remind himself a year ago before thinking fuck it and calling you. It was supposed to go different. He was supposed to tell you he loved you and wanted you back and was done being a fucking idiot, except he got freaked out so he clammed up and left. And maybe that’s the strongest evidence as to why he should just leave the whole thing alone.

Jamie says, “I’m not,” but it feels like he’s trying to convince himself at this point.

“Being a parent is a lot of responsibility,” Madeline says.

He says, “I know,” then realizes he’s driven them to your street. He parks where he knows you can’t see him and waits for whatever Madeline has to say next.

She pinches the bridge of her nose. “She still loves you a little bit, you know. That’s why this whole thing is such shit. I truly think she’d take you back if she could trust the fact that you wouldn’t leave her, and I actually fucking think it would be good for her. But you’re the fucking worst so it isn’t going to happen, obviously.”

“I’m not leaving,” Jamie says. “I wouldn’t do that to Clare.”

Madeline says, “You’ve met her twice,” and Jamie gets her point. Because yeah, he’s met her twice and he loves her but that’s not really a reason to try to patch things up with you, and that’s what Madeline’s really saying, so Jamie says, “It’s not because she has our baby.” 

“Oh, is it not?” Madeline asks in her most sarcastic posh voice. “Then by all means, enlighten me as to what you think you’re doing with my best friend other than re-fucking her up.”

She’s got bags under her eyes, partially from Milan and partially because she’s just tired too. It’s her firmly-held opinion that you deserve the whole entire world and nothing less, but there isn’t much she can do to give it to you. She can try to protect you, she can threaten Jamie and torment him and bring you coffee and help put Bean down for naps but she can’t take the entire weight of it off of you. 

And she was being completely fucking honest when she said she thought Jamie would be good for you. He was the best when you were together, always taking care of you when no one else would, and Madeline worries sometimes that you’ll never let that happen again. 

“You don’t NEED a man,” she’d said more than once, “but if you wanted one just to take your mind off things or to buy your dinner I have a whole list.”

“I’m pregnant, Madeline,” you’d reminded her to which she’d just grinned and said, “Babe, there are real men out that who love that shit.”

You’d never taken her up on her offer because she knew, down in her core, that you were waiting for Jamie. She never, ever brought it up because she also knew you would be mortified to admit it. And that even though you wished for it deep in your soul, you also knew it would never happen.

“I’m not going to re-fuck her up,” Jamie says firmly, and if this were less serious of a situation he sees at least three ways he could turn that sentence into something dirty. “I have a plan.”

Madeline raises an eyebrow. “I find that hard to believe,” she says. She reaches for the door and shoulders her away bag. Jamie watches her walk up the street and to your house without looking back once.

—

The first thing Jamie does is call Georgie because he actually does not have a plan. He has a vague idea of sweeping you in his arms and kissing you and that’s about it. He just can’t for the life of him figure out how to get there.

But his mum’s been on the other end of this, so she’s got to have some wisdom for him which is why Jamie calls her before he’s even out of your neighborhood.

He starts talking before Georgie can even say hello. He tells her the whole thing and about the fact that he’s an entire father out of nowhere and he has no idea what he’s even doing but there’s a part of him that wants to quit football and yes mum, he knows he’s being fuckin’ dramatic but he just wants to get his point across yeah? And by the time he’s done explaining that he just wants to make things right and permanent, he’s back inside his big empty house and wishing he were over at yours instead.

Georgie sighs and says, “I love you darling, but you’ve really fucked it,” and Jamie feels awful.

“I just don’t want to be like Dad,” he says quietly and Georgie says, “Jamie Tartt, you are nothing like that man. You’re my sweet, sexy little baby and you’ve grown up so much since you’ve been away. Don’t you ever think you’re like him.”

She’s right, Jamie knows that, but still. “So what do I do?” he asks.

Georgie’s silent on the other end of the line for a moment. Jamie doesn’t know if she’s hesitating or thinking but she says, “Now Jamie, I can’t promise this will work for you. And you need to make sure you’re listening to what that poor girl wants every step of the way. But I can tell you what I used to wish your father would do for me back in the day.”

Jamie digs around his house for a pen and paper because what’s the good in being England’s best striker if you can’t go for a long shot?

—

You’re not surprised Madeline is at your door, but you are surprised that she hasn’t been back to her flat yet.

“Your flight got back hours ago,” you say, baffled. She just shrugs. “Customs was an absolute nightmare,” she responds and you know she’s lying but you don’t question it. You just wave your hand vaguely to the guest shower that doubles as Mads’ second home and pull out a takeout menu. 

Clare is on the brink of sleeping through the night, but she still isn’t quite there so you just do not have the brain space to cook a real dinner. It’s not like Madeline cares, anyway.

By the time the food arrives, Madeline is out of the shower and laying on the couch with Clare as she recounts her trip, carefully omitting how much time she spent with Keeley fucking Jones. You know you shouldn’t hate her, but god, every time you see or hear her she just says one insensitive thing after another. So you don’t pry when Mads clearly skips over something; you only press when you know it’s about whoever her mystery fling was, which she is less tight-lipped about.

It’s only after you’ve both eaten and Clare is (mostly) asleep for the night that she asks far too casually, “You’re not thinking of getting back together with Jamie, are you?” and you nearly choke.

“I beg your fucking pardon?” you laugh and she lifts a shoulder in a shrug.

“I think he’s going to try something,” she says. “I just don’t want you to get hurt again. Just because he wants you back doesn’t mean he’s going to fucking change. It’s really not the same shit, you know.”

You say, “Yeah, I know,” because you do. But if he’s going to volunteer to be awake late at night so you don’t have to, you might just take him up on it. Especially because you think it would be a much-needed humbling experience for him.

“What if I did?” you ask while Madeline sips her wine. “What if I did take him back?”

Madeline sets down her glass with a clink. “Then I think you’d need a plan,” she says seriously.

—

Madeline’s plan consists of specifically detailed criteria Jamie must meet before he’s redeemed as a trustworthy person. It includes signifiers of emotional intelligence, maturity, and a general sense of stability that has been previously dispelled. She writes everything down and sticks it to the fridge with a magnet, right under Clare’s ultrasound photos. 

“If he can well and truly change, then he’s allowed back,” she says, and you agree. 

And for the first time, you allow your hope to come to the surface.

Meanwhile, Jamie’s finished his own list. Everything his mum would’ve like to see his dad do and everything Simon actually did do to win her over. It’s a wide range, that’s for sure, from flowers to grocery shopping to fucking cooking which he definitely hasn’t done since he was twenty-one but he knows how to fucking read, doesn’t he? Cooking’s just following instructions and he can do that pretty well on the pitch, so it probably is the same thing. 

He’s awake all night. All he can think about is how much he misses you in the bed next to him, and then around four in the morning he gets really fucking worried that all of this is just selfish and he should actually just leave you alone.

So instead of trying to sleep (because apparently it’s useless) he makes a cup of coffee and goes for a walk. 

He walks all the way to the green in the dark and goes to sit on a bench, except it’s already occupied.

“Mornin’ Jamie,” says Ted. “Bit early for a walk, ain’t it?”

Jamie just looks at him. “You’re awake too,” he points out, and Ted shrugs.

“Just a little jet lagged,” he replies.

Jamie knows that’s bullshit, and he says it. “You’ve been here long enough, coach.“

Ted shrugs again. “Guess it never really leaves you.”

He doesn’t say anything else but he doesn’t seem like he’s trying to get rid of Jamie, so Jamie sits down. A few minutes pass before Ted says, “Henry wanted to talk, so I woke up to FaceTime him. Then I couldn’t go back to sleep because I just miss him so dang much.”

Jamie says, “Same coach,” without thinking, and now it’s Ted’s turn to give him a look. Jamie ignores it and says, “I got a kid. Couldn’t fucking sleep thinking about her and her mum, you know? I just want to be fucking… involved but it’s all weird, like.”

“Weird how?” Ted prompts. He has enough questions to fill a black hole but he’s sure it’ll come out sooner or later so for now he’s just going to listen. 

Jamie leans back and stares at the sky as it begins to lighten. “Pretty sure I’m still in love with her. I sort of fucking suspected when I were with Keeley, but it weren’t till I saw her again that I knew for sure. But I don’t want to be fucking selfish and shit, so now I think I should just leave them alone.”

“Is that what she wants?” Ted asks as if he hasn’t had this conversation with himself a million times and moved to stinkin’ London to try to prove that he wasn’t selfish himself.

Jamie lifts a shoulder. “She doesn’t want me to leave again.”

Ted says, “Then don’t.”

next chapter

[ever-after-high-alistair]

Twisted Memories

The cool breeze of Ever After caressed Raven's pale face, sending fresh air wafting through her nose. After a long day of Apple's relentless pressure after legacy day, she needed an escape. Crunching of the fallen leaves and quiet animal chatter calmed Raven, her heart rate slowing. 

“But it’s not sweet enough, earl gray!” 

Raven heard an outburst of a familiar voice she felt comfortable around. She followed the distinct chatter, leading her to Wonderland grove. There sat Madeline Hatter, surrounded by tea cakes, cups, utensils of all shapes and sizes, and her very own table. 

“Hey Maddie” 

Raven said, sounding almost unsure. She was careful not to scare Maddie by cutting through her peaceful silence. Maddie was never silent herself, and Raven felt as though she was the only one who was by her side. Her presence never scared Maddie, but rather excited her. 

“Hey Raven! It’s about time you were almost late!”

“You were expecting me?” Raven questioned. 

“No. Now sit, eat, drink, eat, and sit” 

Raven chuckled, pulling out a round chair from the opposite side of Maddie. She helped herself to a teacake, studying the madness and beauty of wonderland grove. She traded glances with Maddie, darting her eyes away and back to the huge blue leaf hanging by. 

“Don’t worry about legacy day, all is well and this too shall pass” maddie giggled 

Raven was startled hearing about the very same things she was thinking about on her way. 

“How’d you know?” 

“The narrators told me” 

Another tea cake was scarfed down by Raven, looking around once more. Maddie seemed to know everything. She knew how she felt, and she comforted her when no one else did. But Maddie needed some comforting too. Raven remembered the curse, like many things, caused by her mother. The reason maddie was sitting across from her at that very moment was because of the destruction her mom caused. 

“It’s ok Raven it’s not your fault” 

“Huh?” 

“The curse wasn’t your fault” 

“Oh.”

There was a long pause. There wasn’t much else to say, awkwardness filled the air. But Maddie didn’t seem to mind, no long face, no discomfort was coming across on her side, so why should Raven feel that way. 

“Maddie, can I ask you something?”

Silence filled the air, persisting Raven to carry on. 

“If it’s ok, tell me about Wonderland” 

Maddie's hair bounced with excitement when asked about her safe haven. She was soul tied to her home, and made it quite clear. 

“Ok ok, sit down o little one, let me tell you”

Wonderland was a topsy turvy twist of madness, when me and my friends weren’t climbing tumtum trees in the jubjub forest, we were at my dads tea shop with endless possibilities for pies, sweets, and tea. We would stay out till the sky turned purple and Lizzie was called back into her palace by her mother.  

Maddie's story came to a stop, taking a break to sip more tea. Raven didn’t want to persist and make maddie replay the memories from her old abode. But nevertheless, she still continued. 

And when school came around, we all stuck together like treacle sticks to the top of your mouth. Every hour gets madder than the last. And I have yet to figure out what was in the mashed potatoes. Kitty always hated school, cause she had to take a break from her naps. And after, she dozed off on a tumtum tree branch before you could even say flibbertigibbet. My favourite pastime was watching the dodo birds and crochet porcupines get tired of kittys pranks and go home for the night. Off to have the sweetest dreams and count the teacup shaped stars that danced across the sky. And when we were younglings, the guards would get sick of our antics and keep us outside, away from the precious diamonds and family heirlooms the Card Castle possessed. We’d live everyday like that, with madness pulsing through our veins. 

“Sorry Maddie” Raven managed to slip out 

“Don’t be! If I didn’t get sent here, I wouldn’t have met you!” 

Raven felt like maddie was truly a wonder. They sipped on tea and laughed with earl gray until sundown. The air went from warm and crisp, to cold and heavy. They made their way back to the school, with their conversation still stuck in Raven's head. 

“Good night Raven” 

“Good night Maddie”

______________________________________________________________

Ok this one is a little bit new, also sorry for the title I tried my best so hopefully its not cringe. Also the italics is Maddie narrating. Their friendship isn't talked about enough for me. Thanks for reading and feel free to given me any suggestions.

[duck-ducks]

Thomas rents a semi truck that he affectionately nicknames Dolly.

“Dolly” however, just so happens to be a very embarrassed, very unamused, undercover Optimus Prime.

 She was a beauty. 

Gleaming red paint, newish tires, and a cute face like decal on the steering wheel and grill. 

And now she was all Thomas Winston’s, for the short foreseeable future as she was a rental from the company he worked for and in fact they had insisted that he take the very nice and somewhat new looking truck for his next haul. For half the price he would have expected too.

Why they specifically wanted this truck to get a bunch of crates of rocks, who knew and honestly who cared. The engine ran nicely and she drove smooth as hell. Thomas wasn’t about to complain about the oddities a bunch of pencil pushers had about which trucks were to pick up some shiny rocks.

Getting on the highway this early ensured the road was damp and empty. That worked out pretty well for Thomas, he was quite fond of just driving on the open road with just he, himself, and him. The only sound being the engine running, the tires on the road and, the radio quietly playing some country song about how great red dresses and beer are. 

It was perfect.

Now all he needed was a name for the truck.

Thomas had nicknamed every truck he rented no matter how long he was in them, some little thing would stick out about the truck, the job, or just general events. Thus far the only thing was the insistence that this particular truck be taken on the haul but nothing nickname worthy so far.

He patted the steering wheel. “We’ll find something to call you, I'm sure.” 

The song on the radio ended and the host began talking way too excitedly for this early in the morning, just as he thought to change the station the next song began. A song he knew well, it was one of his daughter’s favorites, Jolene by Dolly Parton. Madeline was all grown up now but when she was little she would dance around the kitchen and living room with Sherry, the most beautiful woman in the world that he got to call his wife, while Dolly Parton played.

Dolly had first played first on a radio that had both cassette player and cd player while matching brunette heads twirled and hopped around and then later on an ipod speaker, some of that hair a little grayer and now on a bluetooth speaker that you can talk to, a single all gray head swayed and hummed. 

It was always Dolly that he would come home to then and after this haul was done he hoped it would be Dolly that he came home to now.

Jolene ended, and with a few words from the radio host played ‘here you come again.’ 

“Well how about that? You know this will be my last drive and I hope I’ll be hearing a lot more like this once I’m home more." The little face on the steering wheel didn’t look back at him. “Dolly is as good a name as any and you seem as good a truck.” and thus it was decided the pretty red truck would be Dolly.

~~~

 Optimus was not amused by this development.

He didn’t like that he needed a driver for the long drive. He didn’t like that none of the agents who knew what he was didn’t have the right license to drive him so that had to get someone else, which meant he would have to go the entire drive stuck in his alt mode and unable to talk, thankfully it could be made in one day.

To make matters even worse his high command had insisted he keep his internal comm on just in case something happened, so whoever was on monitor duty could hear everything that his driver said.

Including his delightful new nickname. 

He was unable to voice his annoyance while his driver was still around however he was currently working on a scathingly worded email to his two dear “friends.”

And because the universe would not grant Optimus any peace. “I ain’t making fun of you Prime, I mean I wouldn’t want to hurt your feelings you’re just a purty little thin-” Ironhide wasn’t able to fully finish his remark before Ratchet silenced him via what Optimus hoped was a fist to the side of the head. “Hey! I thought medics weren’t allowed to cause harm!”

“Don't worry I’m sure the thickness of your helm will have protected you.” technically they were only supposed to contact Optimus if there was an emergency, but Ironhide as one of his oldest friends decided it was his duty to make fun of him whenever the chance was given. Ratchet was but an innocent bystander to the scoffery and was coming to his rescue- “Obviously you have to be careful with your words around someone as delicate as Dolly Prime.” Optimus could hear the laughter in Ratchet's voice.

“Dolly Prime, name granted to him by the great Thomas.” Ironhide never did know when to quit.

Optimus was tempted to end the open comm. Nothing was happening, it was early and dark and there was no danger. He could just reopen it if anything were to happen.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have sent him on his own. I mean I would be devastated if anything were to happen to our beloved Do-” 

His rationalization and the self preservation of his sanity won. He clicked the comm off.

~~~

 A couple hours later he and Dolly had arrived. 

The whole thing had seemed strange as soon as he had pulled into the parking lot. 

The place was creepy. Crates upon crates of these blue rocks sat inside the warehouse, various people in suits stood around by all the exits and a man in an even fancier suit had talked to Thomas while the crates were loaded onto Dolly. 

Fancy suit man had introduced himself as senior director Hendrickson, he didn't say what he was the director of but he had bought Thomas lunch from a local grocery store and asked that he not leave while the truck was loaded as they intended to be as fast as possible. 

Sitting a distance away he could see a couple people talking in the direction of Dolly. They didn’t look like they were talking to each other, they also didn’t look like they were interacting with each other at all, just talking at the truck.

~~~

 Being loaded was an uncomfortable affair. Humans tended to forget, even when talking to him, that he could feel every time they touched him. Most would step in little crevices to lift themselves onto Optimus, stack things unevenly, and tell him things he was certain they wouldn’t have told other humans. He was sure if they worked efficiently he could have been back on the road much faster but they insisted that their way of doing things was superior to any of his suggestions. Stubborn little things humans were, it was sometimes a blessing but currently a bit of a curse. 

Agent Fowler had not been assigned to this particular matter and that in of itself meant a little more discomfort for Optimus. Fowler was good at convincing his fellows to seriously consider Optimus’s opinions on the little matters. Such as not stepping on his tires to give themselves a little lift when he had foot holds for that very reason damn it. 

He knew this trip was important, he didn’t want to send only humans to deal with the energon collection. It was a bit unstable in its solid crystal form, should anything happen, such as the appearance of a decepticon, he would be more comfortable being able to handle it himself.

Having said that, He was not about to suddenly become fond of senior director Hendrickson putting his foot on the front of his grill. He was uncomfortable, he had dirt in his seams and he couldn’t talk louder than a whisper in fear that his driver would hear him. How much trouble would it bring if he told senior director Hendrickson off, if Optimus just told him where he could shove it. How much damage would that really do to human relations? The director has had to deal with the twins before, with Sunstreaker he knows how belligerent an annoyed cybertronian could be.

Thomas’s unimpressed voice stopped Optimus from making a minor mistake in mild enemy making.  “There's dirt on your boots. I don't want to return her all dirtied up.” Her, while Optimus still didn’t fully understand human gender customs he had become used to being referred to with masculine pronouns, It didn’t really make much of a difference to him besides straying from the usual. The way Thomas said ‘her’ was with an underlying fondness to it. He must say it a lot in a way that speaks of love without outright saying it. “I wouldn’t want to make a bad impression on anyone even if I wont see them again, and bringing back a truck with muddy footprints on the grill isn’t all that great of a thing to do now is it?” 

senior director Hendrickson sheepishly removed his shoe from Oprimus’s grill. Thoroughly chastised the man begrudgingly mumbled an apology only partially directed towards the one he had his gross shoe on.

Optimus would have liked to thank Thomas alas he was stuck playing an unliving truck. 

“Well Dolly, it is time to head back from whence we came.” Thomas patted his side as one would pat the shoulder of a friend. Optimus elected to not consider that he might have been patted like a dog. “Anything else I need to know about before I go?” He asked.

senior director Hendrickson shook his head and made his blessed exit. 

~~~

 Back on the road Thomas would put in his two cents that this drive back felt different. How so he didn’t quite know yet but he would figure it out before the end of this circuit. 

The radio was significantly less interesting now only playing obnoxious new age country that was teetering on the edge of becoming pop. it wasn’t the worst but now it was grating even after such a short time. The radio knob seemed a bit finicky when Thomas tried to turn it. It didn’t really turn like it should and it turned back almost immediately and hadn’t even changed the station at all. 

He took a moment to glare at the knob just to visually show his disappointment to the inanimate object before trying again to change the station. It changed to static and nice and smoothly as if it had been working the whole time, changed to some slow orchestral music.

It wasn’t the kind of music he would normally listen to but it was alright enough.

It certainly wasn’t, however, the kind of music that went with almost hitting a deer in a semi truck.

Which was what happened. 

A lone deer barreled into the road in the direct path of Dolly. Thomas was not going to be able to stop before he hit this deer. It was going to become a wet red smear on Dolly’s grill making much more of a mess than senior director Hendrickson’s shoe. Thomas in the short two seconds that he had to process and act to the deer had very few choices and no time to make said choices. 

The truck swerved. Thomas had not moved the steering wheel and the truck swerved, there was a loud clicking, metal on metal slid together moving apart and back together and a large hand extended from the passenger side pushing the ground to prevent the cab from tipping.

The deer continued running across the road disappearing into the woods on the other side. Dolly straightened out steadily, speeding back up to the speed limit.

“Oops.” the voice hadn’t been loud yet Thomas had heard it as if it had blared over the radio. The noncorporeal voice was not nearly as much a shock as the truck moving on its own.

Thomas no longer had his foot on the gas pedal. Dolly continued driving steadily down the road, thankfully there weren’t many others on the road at this time. 

Thomas was tense and unmoving. “This isn’t some bluetooth remote control shit is it?” it wasn’t really a question. Thomas wasn’t an expert on technology, he didn’t know the ins and outs of the internet or how coding worked, his daughter had to help him set up Sherry’s smart tv and despite having been there for the entirety of the set up he still didn’t fully understand how to use it. This he knew was not that kind of thing, this wasn’t something a human could make into a truck. What Dolly actually was he didn’t know, man made it surely wasn’t. “What are you?”

~~~

 What if he said nothing, what if he just dumped Thomas off on the side of the road and let senior director Hendrickson deal with the entire situation. It was an option. He could do that and just make a comm to headquarters letting the human department know where he had left the poor old man they had involved in this mess. 

Optimus wasn’t going to do that, it was a useless train of thought because Optimus was never one to let others deal with difficult situations if he was involved or could involve himself.

“My name is Optimus Prime. I am an autonomous robot from the planet Cybertron. I mean you no harm.” he had been told before that his usual introduction came on a little strong, nonetheless it was the quickest way to establish who and what he was.

“What the hell is an autonomous robot and why are you a truck?!” His “driver” was not understanding. Perhaps because Optimus was in his alt mode, the other humans had seen him in his bipedal form before he had explained what he was. That may have played a part in their understanding during the distress that is finding out about extraterrestrial beings that have taken harbor on their planet. 

“My name is Optimus Prime and I am an Autobot soldier who has taken refuge on your planet.” Thomas was making him nervous. He was slowly folding his arms and his face was turning from shock to a more stern anger. 

 A similarity between cybertron and earth is that on both planets the government really does ruin everything.

“I don't understand what you are,” Rude, what was there not to understand. “but you can move on your own so why am I here?” a reasonable question, even Optimus didn’t understand the humans insistence that he needed someone in his passenger seat. What was the point? He had been driving without one for years and never had any problems but then the government got involved and he was no longer “allowed” to drive on populated roads without a real human driver.

“I must apologize for startling you but the agency that I am harbored by insisted that I require a human driver.”

“Why didn’t they send someone who already knew about you?”

“They were unable to get somebody with a CDL license fast enough.” It was true. Apparently most of the agents with the licence were on either vacation or already away on assignment. Optimus had assumed incorrectly that they would leave him be for once but fate wasn’t that kind. 

Thomas started to relax. He sat back in Optimus's seat and looked around as if he was looking for oddities in the cab. “An alien robot. Huh.” he scoffed.”My last day working and I got the revelation that aliens exist. My daughter would love this.”

“I have found that many of our young human friends do find delight in the discovery of other living beings beyond their galaxy.” 

“Beyond our galaxy. Huh. you’re far from home aren't you?”

“Very. we are not quite sure where our planet resides now, it is dead and no longer in the orbit it once was.” Optimus had wondered before if humans could feel cybertronian fields or if they were just very perceptive. Cybertronians would act sad to show empathy but they didn’t truly feel the sadness they portrayed. Humans did, they would feel the emotion and confide in eachother with sharing experiences of the same or similar to the situation. The melancholy on Thomas’s face showed an understanding of some kind. He could tell that Thomas wanted to ask more about this, every human did they wanted to know about another planet and how one died.

“No, cybertronians have taken an array of different alt modes from land vehicles to air crafts as well as a few boats. We are a diverse transforming species. After arriving on your planet we took the form of non sentient vehicles to blend in and hide from our main enemies as well as any others who may want to cause us harm. Although we have made a many friends among your species, we have seen the cruelty of which humanity is capable.” 

“I take it by ‘we’ you mean there are more of you, are you all trucks?” It was said in good casual humor. A segue into a conversation less heavy was appreciated.

Thomas had many questions, many of which Optimus got to expound upon more than usual when it came to the introduction of other planetary life. 

It was calming, the frustration of the day melted away in the explanations of histories of his beloved planet and mechanical living technicalities. Even the traffic that had built was of no remark on Optimus’s now created good mood. 

Until.

“Ah, our drive is almost over.” It was a pity, Optimus was so enjoying the calm. Pulling into the driveway he reminded Thomas to put his hands back on his steering wheel. He’d prefer not to have to fill out the NDA paperwork. What would it hurt if one soon to be retired older man knew of his existence and he was already going to be in trouble about turning his comm off. Explaining the entirety of the situation to Thomas only made him laugh for a reason unknown to Optimus. 

Maybe a little louder than necessary. “I do believe me and Dolly had a mighty fine time.” He forgot about the nickname. And of course there was Ironhide slowly creeping his sorry aft into Optimus’s line of vision. Oh what's that? Ratchet just behind him why not. “Well Dolly! This is where we must part ways. It was a pleasure.” The bastard just patted him. Dog or friend he really wasn’t sure. 

Optimus should have just suffered through the paperwork.

 Maybe they would meet again one day, for now Thomas just wanted to get home to the most beautiful woman in the world who would be dancing around the kitchen to Dolly.

~~~

[eahgalpal3]

An imperfect apple part 1 🍎 By Madeline Coral 🪸

In the world of Ever After High, there has always been a standard for both the royal and the rebel students who intend to follow their destinies. For the Royals, it is to show pose, grace and decorum, even if they hang glide from their towers like Briar Beauty does. As for the rebels, it is to show their skills at either being the zaniest, nicest or the evilest rebel that they can be. Yet, even with these standards, it wasn’t too uncommon if one of each group had a secret they would hide from view. Whether a big bad one or a secret romance with a royal or rebel. Still, for some, both the royals and the rebels would agree that when it comes to expectation, it is important to practice and rehearse.

One royal who has put this standard into practice fully is none other than Apple White, the daughter of the famous Snow White, ruler over all Ever After. From the day she was born, Apple White had always been “perfect” just like her mother. And with the help of her mother, along with her princess classes at Ever After High, Apple was primped and polished to be beautiful, kind, graceful and most importantly, perfect. Of course, Apple was happy do everything because as the future queen, she knew she would have to eventually.

One day, as Apple was working on her thronework suddenly, her mirror pad rung loudly. Apple soon stopped and looked up with her glasses to see her mother’s profile on the mirror pad then quickly got up from her bed. Fixed her hair, makeup and dress then sat at her desk. She made sure her posture was as perfect as the queen she was expected to be before finally answering her mother’s call.

“Once upon a hi mom!” Apple said joyfully.

“Hello Apple pie!” Snow White greeted warmly. Suddenly, Snow White noticed that her daughter was wearing her bright red glasses.

“Oh dear!” She stated

“What is it mom?” Apple asked.

“I hope you did not wear those glasses today, Apple sweetie!”

Apple then went to her mirror and saw she was still wearing her glasses and quickly placed them away.

“No worries mom, I just use them inside my room when I’m doing my thronework.” Apple reassured.

“Phew!” Snow sighed “That’s a relief! Because as the rhyme goes!”

“Glasses are for rooms not for classes!” They both said together.

“After all us Whites have an image to protect my little cherub!”

“Yes, mother!” Apple said smiling.

“Now then my little dove. I’ve looked at your progress for this week and I must say I am fairy happy with the progress you’ve made!”

“Why thank you mom, I…”

“However, Apple pie. I have noticed that there are a few problem areas we need to work on.”

“Like what?” Apple asked

“For example, there was only 6 pictures of you being kind and or beautiful on My Chapter and not the usual 10 pictures that you usually are tagged in for the week.

“Well, it is the weekend so I should be able to get 4 more photos in.”

“Your grade in Chem-Myth stry class is now a B+ .”

“But mom it’s still an B+, isn’t it?”

Suddenly, the motherly queen glared at her daughter with a glare that made Apple’s skin crawl.

“But I can do better!” She assured nervously “On all of those things!”

Snow White smiled “You’re your mother’s daughter! Of course, you can.” Snow White said confidently.

“And while you’re at its Apple my dear,” She said, “Do review the hair care chapter of your Queenly Guidebook.”

“Yes, mother.” Apple says ashamed as she strokes her curly blonde hair.

“And do smile my dear! Smile! Frowning makes you look too pale!”

Suddenly, a beep came from Snow White’s phone

“Hello” she answered “Yes… yes… no….no… Yes.”

She then turns to her daughter and says “Sorry, Apple pie, I must run! Do have a productive weekend! Love you, bye.”

But before Apple could say anything back her mom hung up immediately.

“love you too... mom.” Apple said to herself.

Soon Apple fetched her guidebook and looked in her mirror. As usual, she ran through the whole check list of what a future queen should look like. She then saw in her mirror the glasses she had placed away not to long ago. Carefully sh picked them up and placed them on her face to look at her reflection. She grazed through the picture in her guidebook of a all the different queens and how each one had no frame or trace of glasses on their faces.

“ Were there any rulers who wore glasses?” She thought to herself. Yet, before she could answer herself, suddenly her roommate Raven came in through the door. She then quickly hides her glasses in her side table drawer, picks up a textbook then proceeded to act natural.

“Hey, Apple!” Raven says

“Oh, hi Raven!” Apple says smiling from ear to ear.

Raven smiled “Studying hard I see!” she says

“Yep, you know me! Study, Study, Study!” Apple says.

“Yeah, and you’re even challenging yourself by doing it upside down!” Raven points out.

Apple soon sees that her textbook is upside down and places it back into position.

“whoops! How did that happen?!” Apple said.

“I’m guessing someone’s mom called today?” Raven said.

Apple sighed “Yeah.”

“What did she say this time?”

“She says I need to improve on my photos, Chem myth stry grade and apparently my hair.”

“Well, that’s ridiculous? Your hair is perfect as usual, you have enough photos on the Mirror net and it’s just a B+. Besides, Professor Rumpelstiltskin never gives As!”

“Trust me I know!” Apple said sadly.

Then Raven got an idea to help of Apple’s problems to be solved.

“Well, I know where we can take care of your hair problem at! Plus, it may give you a chance to relax from the pressure.”

Raven soon dragged Apple from her bed having them both walk out the door.

[ilovesjamesbb]

Please Don't Leave Me (Pt. 14)

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Mature themes, violence

Dark. Cold. Alone. The only words that went through her head. The only sound in the basement was the constant dripping, of what she didn't know. Water, gas, blood. Everything was a blur. 

Everything was going well until it wasn’t.

“Christian, we are gonna be late to dinner, Warner and Madeline are gonna be waiting for us.” I called into the bedroom. I heard no response and I huffed. He was always doing something and I never knew what it was. 

“Christian.” I called again but as I made it into the bedroom he wasn’t there. What the hell was he doing now? I walked to the other side of the apartment and I saw his office door was open. Great, he's working… I pushed open the door and the chair I expected him to be in was vacant. I was about to leave the room when I saw the desk drawer hanging open, a key in the lock. That’s weird. I was going to just shut the drawer and leave but I looked down to see photos of me. Photos before we met. Photos of me at the grocery store. At the club with my friends. Me at SHIELD, Fury with his hand on my shoulder. Photos of me at the coffee shop I visited every morning before work. What the hell? I then looked to see a file that read…

HYDRA - MISSION 1677

I picked up the document with shaky hands and opened the first page. 

TARGET: Y/N L/N

My breath hitched. 

FEMALE

DARK HAIR

DARK EYES

SHIELD SPECIAL FORCES 

PROFILER

What is this?

TARGET IS DANGEROUS. PROCEED WITH CAUTION.

MISSION: TERMINATION

I looked down in the drawer to see if there was anything else and I saw two guns. It looked like there was a place where another gun should be but nothing was there. 

“I really wish you hadn’t done that.” Christians voice sounded in the room. I didn’t turn around. I knew there would be a gun pointed at me, the missing one. 

“I think we are gonna have to raincheck on that dinner.”

“What do you want from me? What is this?” I still haven't turned around. I didn’t wear my gun anymore, thinking I was safe to go on a date with my boyfriend. 

“It’s a mission. Nothing personal.” He said detached. I whipped my head around. 

“Nothing personal? We’ve been dating for almost a year. This isn’t personal? We’ve gone to galas, got an apartment, we..we had sex.” I said, realizing the magnitude of the situation. Tears started to well in my eyes. 

“Perks of the job.” He said menacingly. I didn’t know the man standing in front of me. This has all been a lie. 

“You really thought I loved you, didn’t you? Everytime I held your hand, got you flowers, everything I kissed you…” He approached me, circling behind me.

“Everytime I made you scream my name…” I shivered as his breath hit my neck. 

“If you’re going to kill me, do it.” I said, eyes closed. He laughed. 

“Oh no, killing you wouldn’t give the satisfaction I crave.” He grabbed my neck roughly so that I could see his face. 

“Basement, now.” I didn’t move. I couldn’t. He started to choke me and pushed me forward. 

“I won’t say it again. Be the obedient whore I know you can be and get in the fucking basement.” I let my legs carry me to the basement door. I slowly walked down the stairs and my eyes never left the wall. There were shackles hung from the ceiling and two from the floor. I had never been down here before, it was always locked. Christian said it flooded badly and I didn’t find a need to go down there. A drain lay directly under the shackles. He was going to torture me. 

“What, I thought you liked a little bondage?” He joked again but none of this was funny.

“Put them on. Feet first and then hands.” I moved toward the chains and I couldn't do it. I needed to fight back.

“Don’t think I don’t know what’s going on in that pretty head of yours. There is no use fighting back. I will get what I want.”

“And what is it that you want?” I bite back bitterly.

“Intel. Lots of it. Access to SHIELD database. Everything, you name it.” That was his game. How could I have been so stupid? What was I thinking? I should have run a background check, something, anything.

“I won’t do it.” I said, standing my ground. 

“I hoped you would say that.” Before I knew what was happening he hit me with the butt of the gun. Immediate pain flowed throughout my skull.

“Shackles, now.” Still, I refused. The beating started and I couldn’t tell when it ended. I wish I could say I got numb to it but I never did. At some point I made it into the shackles, hanging from the ceiling. His face was in mine. 

“You can’t escape me, Y/n.”

Bucky could hear screaming and he shot up. It was y/n. She was fighting something. His senses were in overdrive. Nightmare. 

“Y/n. Shh.” I tried to call for her first knowing that waking someone from a nightmare can be dangerous. Nothing. 

“Stop! Stop, please! Christian!” She cried. At that moment I was so furious. Christian had hurt my girl enough. At this point she was gonna hurt herself. I sat up and I grabbed her wrists. 

“Y/n. It’s okay. You gotta wake up, doll. He’s not here.” Her eyes flew open and she tried to move away from me to the headboard. I have never seen her look so scared, it broke my heart. 

“That’s it, doll. It’s just you and me.” I tried to calm her down. She stopped struggling and she just cried. I wrapped my arms around and put her head to my chest. When she finally calmed down I realized we still didn’t have on our clothes. I went to reach to the floor to grab our garments and she clung to me. 

“Please don’t leave me.” Doesn’t she know by now that I would never leave her? 

“Okay, doll. I was just gonna grab us some clothes but I’ll stay right here.” She nodded content. She was still shaken up. 

“Nightmare?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Memory. It was a memory.” She sniffled, almost sounding detached. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” She lifted her head to look into my eyes. She looked hesitant. 

“I wanna know all of your dreams and all of your nightmares. I’m here for you.” I said caressing her hair away from her tear stricken face. 

“It was the night I found out Christian wasn’t who I thought he was. The first night he tortured me.” I hummed listening intently. Hoping she would go on. 

“The worst part is the beatings and… the physical pain wasn’t even half as painful as the betrayal I felt.” Her eyes were welling up again. 

“He can never hurt you again, y/n”  She nodded. I knew he was still out there and I knew I was gonna kill him. I let her rest her head down. She wanted to talk more about it in the morning. As she fell asleep in my arms I vowed yet another thing to her. 

I would kill Christian Valentino and I would enjoy doing it. 

PLEASE COMMENT AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU WANNA SEE NEXT

[itsnotgray]

cracked spines and pre-wrap au - meet our girl!

meet our athletic trainer (in training), literature obsessed girl- cassandra!

her full name is cassandra madeline clark

born december 12, 2004- so she turns 19 this year!

everyone calls her cassie (jj calls her cass or mads though)

she’s majoring in kinesiology, and minoring in english

she’s a student athletic trainer, specializing in football and hockey

she’s a sophomore

she only worked with the hockey teams last year, but was convinced by a boy in one of her classes, one colston loveland, to work with the football team this year.

she’s really enjoyed it- sometimes preferring the slight anonymity she has within in the confines of the large facilities

she starts to get really close with a few of the boys, and starts building her own little friendships with everyone

aside from jj mccarthy- somehow, she’d never had to work with the star quaterback, and honestly didn’t expect to at all this season.

until the maryland game

however- the introduction wasn’t all what she pictured, and leaves a bad taste in her mouth

in contrast, jj’s determined to change the negative view he knows she quickly formed on him

and that is where i’m starting off cassandra’s and jj’s story!

[jupiterpiss]

Father!

Father Paul Hill x Fem!OC

Author’s note— This is just an intro to a series I’m coooking up. This does take place some time in the late 1970’s early 80’s.. so keep in mind. Mildred Gunning doesn’t exist sorry folks :(( I got no description cause idk what to say.. anyway enjoy!

Warnings— Mention of pregnancy, vomiting, got some people to proof read but there could be some mistakes (I made this at 1 am), oh and descriptions of a hot priest

She feels like vomiting.

Her stomach churns and twists violently, like the waves that crash not too far from her, the sound tuning into a distant static noise she desperately tries to comfort herself with. Her girls aren’t too far away, running about as high-pitched giggles leave their lips, cheeks rosy and eyes bright as the morning sun as they play.

She’s unsure of what they’re playing, ‘tag’ she supposes, but she can’t pay much mind to it as another wave of nausea rolls through her. Her hands squeeze down harshly onto her thighs, framed bent over as she prepares herself for her breakfast to leave her. Though, it seems quite stubborn.

“Madeline,” she starts, blowing a huffed breath as she tries to compose herself, “Honey,” she tries again, though her calls to her daughter fall upon deaf ears.

Kids, kills them to listen to any sort of authority figure.

She attempts a deep breath but fails, instead gagging and coughing, “Jesus, Maddie-” she tries once more, but doesn’t get to finish her speech. Luckily enough, she gets a loud “yeah?” from her eldest daughter, her small hands pushing back any free strands of hair over her small face.

“Honey, oh je- okay,” she decides trying is useless, and instead remains helpless. She’s sure she’s a sight to behold for all those attending mass this morning, her gagging like a cat with her two little girls running around paying her little mind as they fight each other with sticks. Better then them running around naked and her crying, she supposes. Something her poor mother went through when she was little. Fourth of July wans’t the best time in her household that year.

“Hey? You okay?” A voice calls out, a sweet one. Feminine. She reconzies it as one of her fellow neighbors. Reconzises a flash of black hair and light skin, can guess the rest of the woman’s features that she has engraved into her brain after years of living just two doors down.

She only nods, “Yeah, fine, uh, just gonna’ vomit is all,” she explains, desperate to land a horrible joke that only crashes and burns. Worth the try she supposes.

The neighbors nods slowly, unsure, “okay.. You sure?”

She nods again, “morning sickness, usual pregenat lady stuff, it’s fine.”

They nod, seeming to understand. It wasn’t unusual after all, early trimester meant a one way ticket to the toilet for a few weeks. With that they slowly walk away, going up the steps of mass as they watch her with concern etched in their soft features.

The sun is beaming done on her, seemingly sucking up small amounts of help the breeze brings as she desperately tries to ease the clench of her stomach. She wishes the sun away, hopes a cloud goes over it because what the hell sun? Don’t you see i’m dying here?! It seems the sun, or God, had heard her mindless calls because suddenly the sun is gone, vanished out of air.

She looks to the shadow casted across the grass just above her, expecting to see just dim light but instead sees a figure, a tall one at that. She pays no mind to it, instead giving a small head shake, “it’s okay, I’m okay, just a small dizzy spell,” she explains.

“If being hunched over the grass is ‘okay’, I’m scared to see what is ‘great’”, a low voice jokes, timber and soft. She only laughs, brows rising momentarily before dropping again. She slowly tries to move around, going to face him as she attempts to stand to her full height.

“I’m fine,” she says slowly, trying to reassure the collared man before her (though it’s weak), “It’s okay, just a little morning sickness is all.”

He hums at that. “Seems it.”

“No one ever quite prepares you for the amount of times you’ll be tasting your eggs and bacon when pregnant,” she attempts at another joke, “good to go back for secon-” she cuts herself off as another rush of nausea rolls through her.

“I’m sorry,” she slowly doubles down, setting her hands back on her knees, “ I’m sure mass is about to start, you should go-”

“No, no it’s okay, mass can wait. Much more important matters at play here” he bends down with her, crouching as he hands her a cup of water. A part of her takes note that if he already have a glass of water in hand, he had taken notice of her state much earlier, but she casts the thought aside.

She gulps some down, hoping the liquid would push down her rising early meal, “Thank you.”

He gives a curt nod in return, “‘Do not withhold good from those to whom it is due, when it is your power to act.’ Proverbs 3:27. It’s best to make sure you keep hydrated, especially with child.”

“Ah, just a cup of water, but thank you, Father,” she gives a soft smile, slowly trying to straighten out her back from her hunched state

“Think you’ll be okay?” He tilts his head, big brown doe eyes looking up at her in concern, a small frown tugging at his lips. Her brow twitches.

“Mhm,”

He keeps her gaze before slowly going back up to his full height, towering over her like a massive tree, and giving her one last look before looking over to her two little girls. They’ve stopped playing tag now, too focused on ripping grass out of the ground.

“Madeline, Kateylin, go inside please,” he calls out softly, pulling the girl’s attention towards him. They don’t protest nor think twice about listening to the priest, taught to never question a man with such authority before they’re running towards the mass.

He looks over to the pregnant woman again, eyes soft as he holds out a hand, willing her to grab it. She does, giving him an appreciative smile before he brings her along to mass as well, going up the steps slowly as a means to not stir her motion sickness too much.

“You act as if I’m about to burst,” she teases.

“Looked as if you were back there,” he pokes back, canines poking out as he smiles at her and his smile only seems to widen when she gives a soft chuckle.

He leads her to her usual seat in the small church, the same appreciative smile on her soft lips as she looks up at him and takes her seat beside her daughters, with her usual soft expression. The one reserved for him, the same one she held for her husband at one point long ago. That has long passed however, the look is now only for him.

He steps away, going to the front. It’s there he takes a moment to look at everyone in the church, take in the sight of it. For everyone there God has brought in for him to care after, to care for and guide. He looks at the watchful eyes of those who seek the Lord in his own, faces filled with hope and eyes bright.

He looks over to the pregnant woman one more time and it’s then that sun seems to sweep through the windows just perfectly. She’s glowing, he’s sure of it. Whether it’s the sun, the pure love that emits from her or from the child that grows within her, she’s glowing nonetheless. He’s sure that a hallo is around her head, and can almost trace it out with his eyes. A pure angel.

An angel inside the church he helped build, in the town he was helping flourish. The same angel growing his child, that fostered two little girls that surely weren’t his but he was certain to grow into angels just as their mother.

He calms himself then, feels himself too focused on the matter of what’s to come rather than what’s here now.

He takes a deep breath, then begins mass.

[sunflowerromcom]

The Summer We Met

A Ted and Rebecca AU

Rebecca Welton had never enjoyed the idea of cooking until she had children. The thought of shopping, prepping, and putting together an abundance of ingredients to make something just for her was entirely off-putting, and even more so when she was married. Her ex-husband had criticized her enough over what she wore and ate enough as it was. The last thing she wanted to do was give him ample opportunity to criticize her domestic skills or lack thereof.

But then they’d divorced and a little over a year later, her doctor called her to confirm that all the planning and injections she’d endured over the last couple of months had all been worth it.

She was going to be a mother.

From that moment onward, her perspective on many things changed.

Culinary skills being one of them.

It wasn’t enough to have meals planned and stowed away like she had done for herself over the years because, as she would come to realize, a child’s palette was a finicky thing. Having the ability to whip up something while being conscientious about nutrition in it had become a necessity once her eldest grew into a toddler and even more so with the arrival of her twin girls a few years later.

She didn’t want to be one of those mums who ordered everything or one who relied on their nanny to take care of their children's needs for her. She wasn’t so posh she couldn’t learn to make her mother’s shepherd’s pie or quick, simple things like eggs, and bake jammy doggers for Christmas.

Of course, in the beginning, her cooking had been less than to be desired. Thankfully, she had more than ample opportunity to practice throughout her pregnancy, as her mother practically lived with her during her last trimester. Even as exhausting as her mother could be, Rebecca had no idea what she would have done without her help.

As she expected, the moment her doctor placed her beautiful daughter in her arms, she knew she wanted to be the sole person who provided for her.

And Rebecca had been for the last seven years.

“America,” her mother exclaimed, dropping her glasses along with the papers Rebecca had given to her back to the table. The bewildered look on her face made her bite the inside of her cheek. “Why on earth would you want to drag my grandchildren to that god-awful country?”

Rebecca opened her mouth to respond, but the scampering of little feet on the marble floor had her abruptly closing it.

“Mummy,” Madeline said, her soft voice carrying only so far that Rebecca kneeled to hear her better. Her daughter’s warm brown eyes gazed sweetly up at her. “Can we…” she trailed off, a little breathless from running. Rebecca brushed a lock of her gingerbread-colored hair behind her ear, admiring the way the English summer sun filtered in from the windows and cast honey tones throughout it while she waited for her to continue, “can we watch Bluey?”

“Where’s your sister?” she asked, because normally where there was one twin, there was usually the other.

“In the living room,” she said, pointing a little finger beyond the kitchen.

“Yes, you may, darling, but breakfast will be ready soon, so just for a little while.”

“Thank you,” she breathed oh so sweet and soft before she smiled and lifted on her toes, reaching her hands up and pursing her lips to give Rebecca a kiss.

She laughed lightly and placed a light kiss on her daughter’s lips. Rebecca’s heart constricted, watching her youngest hurry off, still in her pale purple pajamas, her ponytail swishing behind her, her butter yellow blanket with little rainbows tucked tightly against her side as she called out, “Mummy said okay, Poppy!”

“Sausage, who is this man?”

This man.

Rebecca’s heartbeat began to thunder, and she did her best to ignore it as she straightened and met her mother’s eyes. In the background, she could hear the distant Bluey theme song playing and see Juliette still painting outside. Knowing they wouldn’t be overheard, she answered with an honest, “The girls’ father.”

Her mother stared at her for a beat. “You told me the donor identity was sealed.”

Rebecca reached for her cup of tea on the counter next to where she had fruit set out to make them all fruit bowls to go with the quiche her mother had made. “Yes, well... there’s not much money can’t buy.”

Her mother sat back, her eyes intent on hers. “Let me get this straight. You plan on taking yourself and the girls to middle America so you can… what? Get a glimpse of the man who assisted in their creation?”

“That’s the gist of it, yes.”

There were other reasons, and her mother knew about them all. That she wasn’t bringing them up, told her a lot. Told Rebecca that she understood why.

“Alright.”

Rebecca blinked at her. Even if her mother understood, Rebecca had frankly expected she’d have to put up more of a defense. She’d even practiced what she would say when the time came more than the lines she had for a role in Twelfth Night in her second year. “That’s all you have to say?”

“What? You’re a grown woman. I trust you’ll take all the sensible precautions to keep my darling girls safe.”

“Of course I will. I have a house and a car. We’ll be fine.” She took the bunch of raspberries on the counter over to the sink to wash them. She watched her mother pick up the printout of the house she rented. Her eyes scanned the description. The modernized farmhouse home came fully furnished with cottage décor and high-end amenities, with two stories and a finished attic that had been renovated into one big open area that had been turned into a playroom.

It had three bedrooms, one king-size bed in one room, another a full-sized bed, and two double beds in the other. Stunning open arches separate the kitchen, living room, and dining room with hardwood floors throughout. The kitchen was spacious and lovely, with exposed brick and turquoise cabinetry and large garden windows. The living room had oversized cozy-looking couches with quilts thrown over the backs and a Smart TV. They’d have Wi-Fi so Rebecca could keep up with work, air-conditioning for those hot Kansas nights, a washer and dryer, and a dishwasher. Everything they could possibly need. “I was hoping you might come along. Not the entire summer, but a week or two?”

“Of course you were. Who else will help you with the girls?”

Rebecca rolled her eyes as she shook her head.

More pattering of little feet came then. Rebecca looked around just in time for Poppy to come running around the counter.

“Mummy, Mummy, Mummy,” Poppy cried, while running towards her, her arms outstretched for Rebecca. Rebecca leaned down just in time to scoop her up into her arms. “Can we swim today?”

“Swim?” She laughed. Poppy’s smile grew as she nodded, and Rebecca pressed a kiss to her sun-kissed baby girl’s cheek.

They’d spent nearly every summer day that it had not rained in the above-ground pool since she had it built two years ago. They built the stone base in the corner of the backyard. Large stepping stones were placed from the deck to its steps and were illuminated at night by garden lights. It’d been a hit in the summers with the girls, including Phoebe and Nora, and while the deepest part only came up to Rebecca’s hip, it was refreshing even for the adults.

This year had been no different.

Two weeks into the season, she and the girls already had a nice summer glow to them.

Rebecca sat Poppy down on the counter, gently tugging the bands that barely held her blonde hair that had come loose from the pigtail braids Rebecca had done up after her bath the night before. Rebecca leaned forward and kissed the tip of her daughter’s nose, making her giggle.

“When it warms up a bit more, we can.” She reached up and brushed her fingers through Poppy’s bangs before running them carefully through her hair.

The sound of another set of bare feet filled the room, then suddenly the sensation of her shirt being tugged. “I want up, too, Mummy.”

Rebecca smiled in amusement and lifted Maddie up to sit beside her twin, then went back to fixing Poppy’s hair.

“Can I have a berry?”

“You may,” Rebecca nodded at Maddie, who gave one to Poppy before taking one for herself.

Rebecca smiled, feeling for her girls filling her heart with her love for them both at how sweet her girls were with one another. Though they had always been that way. Since the day they’d been born, they preferred to be together. Cried when they were separated for a prolonged period of time. Cuddled each other when they needed a bit of comfort, the only exceptions being Juliette and Rebecca. Not until this last year had they begun to do things on their own or sleep in separate beds, and even then, Rebecca would wake some mornings and find one of them had snuck in with their sister during the night.

As fraternal twins, they were not identical. Where Madeline had dark hair and eyes, Poppy had light blonde hair and light hazel eyes spattered with specks of Rebecca’s green. They were, however, the same height. Both held firmly in the sixty-five percentiles, whereas Juliette had been in the ninetieth for their age.

It was almost certain Juliette would be as tall as Rebecca, but she thought the twins might be just a little over average.

Their personalities and temperaments greatly differed. Maddie was her lover, and Poppy was her fighter. But together, they were one another’s comfort and support, and Rebecca hoped beyond all hope that the love they held for one another continued into their teens.

When Rebecca finished with Poppy’s hair, she wrapped an arm around each, squeezing them together, kissing them noisily on their cheeks, drawing giggles from them.

When they were both breathless with laughter, Rebecca drew back, smiling down at them both. “Alright, let’s go tell your sister it’s time for breakfast.”

She set them both down on the floor and followed as they giggled their way to the back door. And for the rest of the day, conversations of fathers and trips to America were put on hold for the time being.

***

Two weeks passed entirely too quickly for Rebecca. Before she knew it, their holiday in Kansas was upon them. It had been a mad dash over the last week, what with meeting after meeting at the club, making sure Leslie had everything he needed to run it without her, and get them all ready.

Rebecca had booked an overnight flight, hoping the girls would sleep through the duration of the trip. She was certain Juliette and Poppy would sleep easily enough, however; Madeline, being her lightest sleeper, might need a bit of coaxing back to sleep throughout the night. Thankfully, she was little enough that she would fit in the pod with Rebecca if it came to that.

Her best friend sat in the middle of her bed, one of Rebecca’s pillows in her lap, her eyes watching Rebecca cross and recross her room while she packed.

“You’ve got Poppy’s bunny?”

Rebecca paused and pointed to a peach-colored, child-sized tote bag at the end of the bed. “Packed in her carry-on.”

Inside each bag, she had each of the girls pack one toy and a book they wished to take on the plane. Poppy had her plush bunny with soft white and brown fur and impossibly enormous feet, and because Poppy brought her stuffy, Madeline packed her own favorite plush, a pig they affectionately called Hammy. Juliette chose the Walkman Keeley had given her at her last birthday party, which was apparently back in style and all the rage, along with a stack of Taylor Swift CDs.

“What about Juliette’s backup glasses?”

Rebecca smirked. Her friend thinking just as she had when she first started packing. Essentials first. Her daughter was notorious for taking off her glasses and losing them, only to be found hours later. “In their case, which is in my purse.”

She picked up her tea from where it sat on her dresser and took a sip. She glanced down at her watch just to be sure it wasn’t getting too late, but they still had eight hours before their flight. Plenty of time.

“I can’t believe you’re taking my sweetlings away from me all summer.” Keeley stuck out her bottom lip, feigning a pout.

Rebecca’s own lips turned down. Keeley wasn’t the only one upset by her plan. They’d spent every summer together for the last six years after she and Keeley became fast friends at her own charity gala when Rebecca broke down in the loo. She’d just had Juliette three months before. She’d felt extremely self-conscious wearing a dress after having just had a child and spending every day in leggings and tee shirts, not to mention guilty for leaving her baby girl alone with her mother when all she wanted to do was be at home cuddling her. Keeley had walked in, saw the tears welling in her eyes, asked what was wrong, and after Rebecca tearfully explained how she missed her daughter and hated her exhusband who just had to show up uninvited, had given her a tight hug that Rebecca was very unused to, called her ex-husband a bunch of names that made Rebecca laugh through her tears, then promised her she’d looked fit as fuck.

She and Keeley left the gala together that night after Keeley appropriated a bottle of champagne for herself, and then it was back to Rebecca’s, where she introduced the young woman to Juliette.

They’d become their own tight-knit little family of sorts. Roy came into the picture a little later with his niece, Phoebe, who was only a few months older than Juliette. Then the twins a few years later.

“You’ll have Phoebe and Roy,” she said, smiling at the snort it brought out from her friend.

“I know, but it won’t be the same. It won’t be as bonkers without them all running around singing Let It Go and that fucking Bruno song at the top of their little lungs. They’ve even got Roy singing it in the shower now.” Rebecca let out a light laugh at that, knowing how easily both songs could get stuck in her own head. After a pause, Keeley looked up at her, her face set into a rare serious expression that had Rebecca raising an eyebrow. “You don’t have to do this, you know? So what if you never knew him? The girls will get it. You just need to talk to them.”

“I know they would,” Rebecca said, closing her eyes, her head falling back in a bit of exasperation. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation. They’d had it many times since the day The Sun had come out with a reprehensible headline that Juliette’s schoolmate had shown her at school. Her daughter had been so devastated that the nurse had called Rebecca to come to get her. She’d taken one look at the paper the nurse handed her in explanation and felt her heart sink lower than she’d ever thought it capable. They’d come home, had a cry, and snuggled together and eventually, Juliette told her how it all happened. “I would just rather take them away for the summer if these are the stories they’re going to continue to put out. I don’t even know why they started watching me again.”

“Probably because your shithead ex just had another child.”

Rebecca made a face. The man was going to be six feet under before his children would graduate. “Whatever it is, I’m going to do everything I can to spare the girls from it, and if it means leaving the country, so be it.”

“And that’s completely fair,” Keeley began, nodding, “but taking them to meet a man that may want nothing to do with them?”

Rebecca sighed, knowing there was a real chance of that very well being the case. However, Keeley had it all wrong, thinking she’d ever march her girls up to the man without having a conversation with him herself.

She moved away from her suitcase and let herself fall on the bed beside her friend.

Before she could explain, Keeley had her arm wrapped around her shoulders. “Babes, I’m worried about you. I don’t think this is the best idea.”

“That’s just it, though. I have a plan, and it’s nothing like you’re thinking.”

“Then tell me what the plan is? And maybe why you looked him up in the first place? This isn’t because of what that little shit said to Jules, is it?”

That little shit had been the same little git that had given Juliette the paper and had started referring to her as sperm baby.

Rebecca had thought there would be no greater pain than when she had walked in to find her husband cheating on her. Because it hadn’t just been the betrayal, but the lies, the deceit, the coldness afterward. It exposed her to re-live that pain every day following, as more and more of his lies and affairs came out on the front page of the papers.

However, years later, holding her young daughter to her chest after she had cried herself to sleep over an article that should have been no one’s business but her own, Rebecca faced a new depth of pain. It was a mother’s pain that felt unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. The one job she’d been adamant about never failing—protecting and loving her children with all that she had—she was doing a shit job of it. It was because of her that her child was hurting, and it was a pain and guilt she felt deep in her very being.

She had kissed the crown of her daughter’s blonde head, and from that moment forward, promised that she’d make amends for it all.

While the little shit had been the catalyst, Rebecca did it for her girls.

Rebecca shook her head, willing the tears to keep from falling as the emotions from that day had risen in her. “No, not because of what he said.”

Keeley tilted her head at her, her look knowing, calling her out on her bullshit. Rebecca should have known she wouldn’t have been able to keep that from her.

“At first, I suppose the incident at her school had been what initially led me to find him.” She blew out a breath and felt Keeley’s arm tighten around her. “At first, I just wanted to see who he was. I wanted to be able to tell Juliette something about him. And I admit there was a bit of curiosity about him I had myself. To see where Juliette got those big brown eyes, and where Poppy got those adorable dimples, where Madeline got…” Rebecca trailed off, thinking of her youngest and how her soft brown hair, her dark eyes, and bright smile were the spitting image of the man in the photographs she received, “all that she is.”

Keeley laughed. They’d always joked that the father, whoever he was, had to be good-looking because Madeline had a beautiful uniqueness to her she could only have gotten from her other parent. “If any of them take after their dad, it’s her.”

“I’m not going to take them with me to meet him if that’s what you’re thinking. They’re going to stay at the house with my mother. I’ve had Leslie set up a meeting with him. I’m going to sit down and introduce myself, work up the nerve to tell him about them, and then—”

“Hope like fuck he doesn’t sue you for all your millions.”

Her shoulders slumped. For someone who was normally a floating ray of positive fucking sunshine, her friend could very pessimistic. Besides, from what Rebecca had gathered about him, he didn’t seem to be the litigious type. “I don’t think he’s that kind of man.”

“How do you know?”

“I…” She raised a finger and held it up, considering how deep she was already in this plan of hers. She dropped her hand with a sigh. In for a penny, in for a pound. “I might have hired a private investigator to look into him.”

Keeley’s eyes widened. “You didn’t!”

“I’m not daft, Keeley. I’m not going to go bloody meet him, nor let the man near my children without knowing he’s not complete sod or, you know, some kind of serial killer.”

“Oh my God, if you hired a PI, then that means you have a picture! I want to see him!”

Rebecca groaned, then rose to her feet, knowing it’d be no use to keep them from her. She crossed the room to the other side of the bed, where she left her phone beside her suitcase. “Fine, but you have to promise not to laugh.”

“Why would I laugh—Oh,” she paused, holding up a hand to her chest, “is he like a four out of ten something?”

“He’s most certainly not a four.”

Rebecca tapped on the screen until she had her gallery up and the few hidden pictures she’d downloaded on her phone into a hidden folder, making sure the girls wouldn’t be able to see them. She handed it over to her friend and awaited her reaction.

“Ohmygod, Rebecca!” Keeley looked up at her with wide eyes for half a second, then dropped her gaze back down to her phone. “Is this really him?”

Rebecca went over to the door to her room, glad that her mother was outside keeping the girls entertained, and shut it lightly behind her, letting her weight fall back against it. “It is.”

“I’d call him a goddamn eleven with that beard of his.” She must have swiped from the picture of the full beard to the one that was a few years before of him completely clean shaved. His coach’s profile photo was on the Kansas University website. “Aww, I think he has such a kind face. God, Maddie is definitely that man’s child. I see Poppy’s nose for sure and aww, look at that smile… There are Juliette’s dimples.” The next thing Rebecca knew, Keeley was looking up at her with tears in her eyes. “I don’t know why I’m crying,” she said with a laugh, wiping away a few tears that had fallen.

Rebecca went back over to the side of her bed not covered in suitcases and this time put an arm around her friend. Keeley’s head fell on her shoulder. Rebecca’s gaze dropped to the picture. The feelings she felt when she first had a look at them still fluttered in her belly and squeezed at her heart. She hadn’t known what to expect, but the relief that came from seeing a kind-looking face staring back at her filled her with hope for not only her but for her girls.

She was a firm believer that you could tell a lot about a person by the way they looked, and the way they presented themselves to the world, and Ted Lasso radiated optimism and happiness. He didn’t look like a man who would turn them away if he met them tomorrow or ten years from now. And that feeling she had about him only solidified when she read through his coach’s file and watched his silly videos on YouTube.

Again, her friend was right in sync with her train of thought, asking, “What’s so funny about him, though?”

Rebecca took her phone, pulled up another app, and typed in his name. She tapped on the first and most popular video, handed the phone back to her friend, and waited.

But the laughter never came, only a pull of her lips up into a wide grin. “Aww, he’s sweet. His accent sounds a lot like that guy from Sweet Home Alabama.” Her friend’s brows drew together then. “If you have all this, why do you still want to meet him? I mean, the man looks like he’d be a complete cinnamon roll… though, I guess you don’t want to go introducing them before you prepare the man.”

Rebecca tapped her nose. “That and a few interviews and a silly dancing video in a locker room with his team doesn’t tell me much beyond the fact that he cares about his job.”

“No, but it tells you he’s not bad to look at with that beard of his.” Keeley bumped her shoulder against hers.

She took the phone back from her and gazed down at the man in the photo, swearing to herself her heart wasn’t thumping any harder in her chest just from looking at him. “He is rather handsome.”

“Don’t go falling for him while you’re over there,” Keeley said, slapping her playfully on the thigh. “One proper pounding from the father of your babies and I’ll never see you again.”

Rebecca made a face. “He’s recently divorced. If he’s anything like I was after mine, I highly doubt he’s looking for anything even remotely close to a relationship. Not that I would be interested.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I’m not.”

“I’m just saying he’s the father of your children. Your three adorable girls. You’re telling me there’s absolutely nothing attractive about how beautiful your babies are when your stuff gets mixed with his?”

Her cheeks filled with heat. She rose from the bed to continue with her packing. “Good God, Keeley, not when you say it like that.”

“Think about it, babes, you’ve had his—”

She closed her eyes, her hands flying up to her temples as shook her head. “Yes, yes, yes, I know what I’ve had. Can we please talk about anything else?”

Keeley laughed. “Did you pack your vibrator? I have a feeling you might need it.”

Rebecca reached over, grabbed a throw pillow, and lobbed it at her.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Chapter 3- Easier Said Than Done

Summary: Frankie's been by your side through some of the hardest moments in your life. Three years have gone by, and now there's no one you want to see less when you find yourself at your lowest.

Word Count: 4.1K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname)

Warnings: Angst, yearning, mentions of death, sick parent, descriptions of a panic attack, hospitals, teenage Frankie's back at it again making it impossible for us to hate him!!

A/N: Hello, my name is Madeline and I am unable to stop writing gut wrenching angst and yearning. (Hi, Madeline). Maybe one of these days I'll stop sobbing like an idiot when I write, but I fear that day may not be coming any time soon

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

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You, Spring of 2006, Age 17

Most people say it’s the smell of hospitals they can’t stand. For you, it’s the noise. The constant chaos of voices, monitors, sirens, carts clattering as they roll across the never ending linoleum floor drives you insane. Even when it’s quiet, it’s still never silent. There’s always an ever present reminder looming in the distance to not get too comfortable. The inevitable fear that something could go wrong, and have you wishing that all you had to listen to was the ambiance of continual pandemonium. 

That’s why it’s such a relief when you hear the quiet ping of your cell phone resting on the edge of your chair. It’s enough to drown out everything else for a little while. 

Frankie :)))))) 

Hey where r u?

Game starts soon and I cant find u 

Katie and Morgan said they havent seen u either 

R u ok?   

You

Yeah I’m ok. 

Dad passed out and hit his head. Mom wasn’t home so I had to take him to the ER. 

Called Coach K in the ambulance to tell her I won’t be there. 

It’s times like these that it takes everything in you to remind yourself that missing big events to keep your dad alive is better than going to big events without him being here. But when you’re decked head to toe in your soccer uniform, sitting on the edge of your seat in a crowded emergency room instead of getting ready to start the last game of your senior year, it’s hard not to feel a little bitter about it. 

You read back over Frankie’s texts as you wait for his response, doing the quick math in your brain before frantically typing back. 

You

Wait, didn’t you have to work tonight? Are you at the field? 

Frankie :)))))) 

Called off work weeks ago 

U really think I would miss ur last game? Cmon Kenz 

Guess its not a surprise anymore. Surprise! lol 

You hope the nurse passing by doesn’t notice the way you’re grinning like an idiot at your phone, biting down on your bottom lip to keep your smile from growing so wide it’ll hurt your cheeks. You re-read the last three texts over and over, your face growing warmer each time. You’re not sure why you’d expect anything less. It still never fails to make you feel like your heart is seconds away from bursting at the seams. 

Of course he came. 

So lost in your train of thought, you hadn’t seen a fourth text pop up across your screen, only the fifth text of “???” that preceded it. 

Frankie :)))))) 

R u at memorial or westwood hospital? 

??? 

You 

Memorial. Why? 

Frankie :)))))) 

Be there in 15 

You 

Frankie you don’t have to do that 

Frankie :)))))) 

2 L8! Already leaving! See u soon! 

The tears welling in your eyes were most definitely ones of relief, joy even, that Frankie cared enough to attempt to make it to a soccer game you weren’t even at, let alone forgo a night’s worth of pay to drive himself to the hospital to see you. 

Your momentary excitement comes to a sudden stop as onslaught of bodies rush into your room to examine your dad. You’re quick to realize you’ve once again been caught up in a stampede where you’re nothing but another person in the way. An invisible presences that means nothing to anyone in this room. It makes the once blissful wetness welling in the corners of your eyes start to sting with a vengeance. 

But you’ve come very quickly to learn that crying doesn’t help anyone, especially when you’re not the one dying. 

You try not to let it hurt when your mom doesn’t even acknowledge the fact you’re sporting the jersey of the team you were supposed to start playing with twenty minutes ago, like you had brought your dad to the hospital in your uniform because that and your cleats were the easiest thing to throw on before you called 911. It’s even harder to try not to scream at the fact she barely pays your presence any mind, not even so much as a ‘thank you’ for getting your dad to the hospital in one piece. What’s the most painful is that you’re positive that she, or anyone else, even notices you’re gone when you slip out the door.

You’re here so often that the hospital staff don’t mind that you pace up and down the rows of the waiting room. Sure, they’ll be sending you a bill for the hole you’re burning through their carpet eventually, but that’s not today’s problem. 

Right now, part of the reason for your frantic pacing is to cool off some steam so you don’t say something you’ll regret about your dad’s cancer having the audacity to ruin the most important soccer game of your life to date. 

You’re also here so often, the hospital staff know Frankie. So much so, that your favorite receptionist, Cassandra, has more than definitely broken several hospital rules to let Frankie stick around long past visiting hours when you’ve needed it most. That’s why all she has to do is give you that look to break you from your vicious cycle of pacing to let you know when he’s arrived through the sliding glass doors of the front entrance. 

Most times, he at least makes it a few steps inside before you notice him. Tonight, he’s barely halfway through the door before you’re wrapping your arms around him in the tightest hug you have to muster. He pulls you in even tighter. 

It’s then that the reality of it all starts to set in. Your best friend had to drive to meet you at the hospital because he’s the only one that remembers you have a soccer game tonight. Your dad is in a cyclical pattern of slowly dying that leaves you feeling like a terrible person for even wishing things were different. You’ve spent the past nine of your seventeen years of life only knowing a world that revolves around cancer. For nine years, you’ve never complained that this is the way your life has been. Tonight, you’ve decided that the weight of the world is un-fucking-fair. 

Tonight, you’re not the one dying, but crying seems like the only reasonable thing left to do. 

You should be embarrassed by how loud your sobs are, how quick the damn breaks once your body finally lets you give into the pain. These are the kind of tears that make your whole body shake, the ones that make your chest hurt because you can’t catch your breath, gasping for air like some poor, lifeless fish, begging to be thrown back to the sea. 

Frankie’s seen you cry before, but not like this. You should care about how your tears are staining the fabric of his t-shirt, how he’s the only thing keeping you standing while your body feels like it’s about to give out underneath you. You hadn’t said a word to each other before you’d collapsed in his arms in a sobbing heap, but right now you don’t care. You can’t. 

You’re sure words are exchanged at some point as he practically carries you out to his truck, at least giving you the decency to finish crying without unwanted eyes in the waiting room glued to you, but right now, you can’t remember. 

You’re not sure how long it takes you to get back to the point of being able to breathe at a semi-normal pace, but something tells you that Frankie will hold you for as long as you need him too, crying or not.

He gently strokes your back, his thumb tracing over the fabric of your jersey as it draws small circles over and over, a sweet and simple dance of his fingers that steadies you just enough to keep from flying away. 

“It’s okay, Kenz. It’s okay.” It’s melodic the way Frankie coos it in your ear, like he’s trying to hush a fussy baby fighting sleep. It’ll take time, persistence and patience, but lucky for you, he’s got all three in spades. “I promise you’re okay. I’m here.” 

“This fucking sucks.” It’s not elegant or graceful, but it’s the truth, and right now, it’s all your brain can process. 

“I know it is, Kenzie. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s not fair. I don’t wanna spend the rest of my life worrying that this is the last day I see him. I just want life to be normal. I just wanna go play my stupid fucking soccer game. It’s not fucking fair.” You ball your fists against Frankie’s chest, pounding into him like he’s the one responsible for your hurt and anger. He’s not the one you need to take it out on, but he’s all you have. You hope he knows it’s not his fault he’s become your emotional punching bag as he takes blow after blow, despite how weak your swings are. You’ve got no strength left to fight. 

“I know. It’s not fair. It’s not fair, MacKenzie.” 

He takes it all until you have nothing left to give. You’ve lost a game no one ever has a chance of winning. Defeat is the unwanted trophy life rewards you with, but Frankie stands at the podium with you. He’ll take the hits if it helps ease the blow. 

“Will you be okay if I’m gone for five minutes? Just five, I promise, and then I’ll be right back.” His question catches you off guard, breaking you from your agitated state, nodding your head just enough to give him the permission he needs to race back through the doors of the hospital as you climb into his passenger seat. 

His truck gives you the kind of familiarity the hospital doesn’t. It’s hard not to find irony in the fact you feel safer in his piece of junk car where the wheels could give out beneath you at any moment than you do in a building that is built for saving people’s lives. Maybe it’s because his truck is filled with the memories of moments in life that make you feel like things are going to be okay. 

With the way Frankie’s breathing as he jumps into the driver’s seat, it’s hard to think he’s not back in less than two minutes, rather than five. He doesn’t say a word to you as he cranks the ignition, only a little prayer under his breath that now’s not a time his engine has chosen to give out on him. He doesn’t let you ask any questions until you’re already on the road. 

“Frankie, what’s- Frankie what are you doing?” 

He’s got that crazed kind of look in his eyes he gets when he’s hellbent on making something happen. He always likes to say that you’re the stubborn one. It makes you wonder the last time he’s taken a good, hard look at himself in the mirror. 

“I’m taking you to your game.” 

He says it so matter of factly, like his response to nearly kidnapping you out of the Memorial Hospital parking lot shouldn’t warrant any questions. 

“What?! Frankie! I can’t just-” 

“The doctor in the room said he’s stable and he probably won’t be conscious for the next few hours anyways. Your mom said it’s fine. I’m not letting you miss out on this. You deserve to get to play, Kenz.” 

You’re not sure at that moment if you want to kiss him or slap him across the back of the head. Maybe it’s a little bit of both. 

“Frankie, I-” 

“I’ll turn around and take you back if you want me to, but I don’t think you want me to turn around.” 

God, maybe you do want to kiss him. 

“I hate you, Francisco, I hope you know that.” 

“I know. It’s okay, you play better when you’re angry, anyways.” 

It’s always the little smirk in the corner of his mouth. The one he makes when he knows he’s right. It’s the same smirk he makes when he greets you after you’ve scored two goals to help your team win the last game of your high school career. The same one he gives you when he buys you ice cream to celebrate with two scoops of cookie dough instead of one, because you won’t stop laughing at his stupid joke about your big appetite for winning. 

That night, you fall asleep on his couch, too tired to drive back to the hospital, too scared to sleep in your house alone. You’re not sure if you mean to doze off with your head resting against his thigh like some sort of makeshift pillow. It’s easiest just to blame it on the fact you’re too exhausted to get up. But as you close your eyes and drift to sleep, you’re almost sure that the only muscle Frankie dares to move is the one that pulls the line of his lips into that same smirk you’d rather die than live without. 

You, Present

You’re shocked your initial response to seeing Frankie Morales for the first time in three years wasn’t immediately slamming your front door in his face and telling him to fuck off. 

That’s what your body wanted you to do. For as badly as it did, your some part of your brain wouldn’t let you. 

It’s probably the same, stupid part of your brain that won’t let you stop staring at him, either. 

He looks good. Way better than you’d like him to. It doesn’t seem fair that he somehow manages to find a way to return home more handsome than when he left. It happens every damn time. You swear he does it on purpose. You don’t know how he could, but that’s what you tell yourself. It makes it easier to hate him. 

“I didn’t know you were home.” 

It’s probably the worst thing you could have said to break the awkward silence stewing between you, because you both know it’s a dirty lie. But at this point, you’re far past granting Frankie the privilege of being a part of the truth- you’ll give him your version of the truth that you want him to hear. You’re not letting him have the upper hand. 

“Yeah. I uh- got home this morning.” 

Good to know the best either of you could do was reduce your relationship down to nothing but lying. If that’s the game he wants to play, then so be it. 

“Drive was good?” 

“Yeah.” Lie. “You?” 

“Fine.” Lie. 

For as much as you know the lies hurt, it’s the curveball you hit him with next that you hope stings the worst. 

“I didn’t think you were gonna come.” 

Because that was the truth. The way his face drops tells you the guilt ridden punch you’ve socked him with hits exactly where you want it to. You want the truth to hurt more. You want it to hurt just as bad as the way his truth hurt you. 

“Of course I was gonna come.” 

It’s a poor attempt at a swing back. He showed up with a knife at your gun fight. He knows well enough you won’t show him any mercy. 

“Wouldn’t have been the first time you hadn’t shown up for something important, Frankie.” 

“Your dad’s fucking dying MacKenzie, what makes you think I wouldn’t be here?” 

“Well, he’s been dying for the past three years so I’m glad you’re deciding to show up when it’s convenient for you.” 

That one shuts him up real fucking fast. 

His jaw ticks as he takes a deep breath, staring up at the sky like there’s something written in the clouds that will give him instructions on what to say next. There’s not much he could say at this point that would shock you, but Frankie never ceases to be full of surprises, whether you like it or not. 

“I’m- fuck- I’m sorry, Kenz. I’m sorry.” 

That shuts you up even quicker. 

It shuts you up because you know he’s not lying. The truth is buried in the way his voice breaks at the start of your name, the way the “K” trembles off his tongue and shakes in the back of his throat. 

Your heart is mangled in your chest, hearing him say the two words you’d never thought you’d get and realizing you can’t accept it. 

“Sometimes sorry isn’t enough, Frankie.” 

Neither of you are sure what to say. It’s tough to tell if the fight is over because Frankie’s stabbed you to death and you’ve unloaded every last bullet you had, or if you decided to put your weapons down and walk away before any casualties have occurred. While it’s hard to deny it’s the latter of the two options, at least the first one would have been the honorable way to go. 

“Honey, is that Frankie at the door? Let him in, MacKenzie, don’t make him stand out there!” 

If there’s one thing you can always count on your mom for, it's that she’ll never fail to have impeccable timing, for better or worse.  

You don’t intend for the sigh you let out to be as loud as it is, but it certainly makes it clear to Frankie you aren’t happy about obliging to your mom’s request. You expect him to pass you like you don’t exist, entering your house to greet the two of the three family members who still care about him enough to not burn a hole through his chest every time they look at him, but he doesn’t. He waits for your okay, frozen on the porch until the subtle shrug of your shoulders signals you’ve given him the all clear to pass. He wants to know you’ll at least let him through unscathed for now. 

You follow behind him as he enters your house, trying to ignore the fact you’re entranced by the dark brown curls that still tickle the nape of his neck as he walks, or how the width of his shoulders nearly stretch from one end of the door frame to the other. You’re starting to regret not letting him follow you in  instead. 

You nearly bump into him with how quick he is to freeze once he sees the state of your living room. In the past few weeks, it’s made a terrible transformation from the space you once knew to a makeshift hospital room. The hospice workers had crowded your house with beds, oxygen tanks, and a wheelchair your dad refuses to sit in, an endless puzzle of enough supplies to let your father die in his own home, rather than the cold, sterile wasteland of the nearest hospital. 

You’d been able to ease yourself into your dad’s decline. You’d watched the months leading up to now as his body became weaker and sicker, reducing down to nothing but bones and deep, dark set eyes. You were a first hand witness to how cancer had greedily sucked every ounce of life he had left in him, taking and taking until he had nothing left to give. 

Last time Frankie saw your dad he was in remission. He looked good, healthy, even. That was three years ago. Frankie would have never imagined barely being able to recognize the man that was the closest thing to a real father he’d ever get. 

You want to scream at him that it’s his own damn fault he’s this shocked when he comes face to face with the shell of the man your dad used to be. But with the way you can practically see the guilt oozing out of Frankie with every step he takes towards the near lifeless body lying in the misplaced hospital bed in your living room, you can’t help but let your empathy get the best of you. 

“Hi Frankie, how are you? It’s so good to see you, honey.” 

Even though your mom knows you’re seconds away from wanting to dropkick Frankie off the face of the earth, there are few things she’ll ever let get in the way of her warm and welcoming demeanor. 

Frankie’s still borderline speechless as your mom grabs the tray of cookies he’s been awkwardly toting before she embraces him, arms still glued to his sides like he’s too afraid to move. The way she’s got him in the hug gives him no choice but to stare at the unsettling image of your dad over her shoulder, barely strong enough to turn his head to see what all the fuss is about. 

“H-hi, Mrs. Anderson. I’m okay. It’s good to see you, too.” 

“Is that my Frank the Tank? C’mere, kiddo. I was hopin’ I’d get to see you.” 

The past few weeks have made you shed enough tears to last a lifetime. Never once did you expect the thing that would make you cry the hardest out of everything you’d been through was hearing the long lost excitement in your dad’s voice upon Frankie’s return. 

It’s childish, the way you storm upstairs and slam your bedroom door behind you without a word, heat seething through your veins at the way your dad was so quick to forgive, welcoming Frankie back into his home like a day hadn’t passed, like he had been there right alongside him every step of the way through his descent. Your blood boils at the fact your father can’t be bothered to remember that Frankie had been nowhere to be found for three fucking years. Not a text, not a call, not even a “Frankie says hi!” through his mother four doors down. 

You can deal with the embarrassment of throwing a full blown temper tantrum later, but that’s more tolerable than spending another second in the same room as Frankie.  

“Well,” your dad huffs, his face grimaced with sarcasm as he looks back and forth between your mom, Frankie, and the empty presence you’d left behind, “that went well.” 

“Sorry about that, she’s um-” 

“She’s fine. Just stubborn.” Your dad grumbles, cutting off your mom with the best attempt he can make to raise his arm from the bed and wave her off. 

“No, I uh- it’s fine, I just- I should probably get going, don’t wanna take um- take up too much of your time.” Frankie’s heart sinks in the uncomfortable silence, quietly cursing himself for the mess he’s made. 

“It’s what, 8 o’clock in the morning? You got a bingo game at the senior center you need to get to, young man?” 

“No, I just-” 

“Perfect, no is the only word I needed to hear.” Your dad weakly smiles, gently patting the edge of the bed for Frankie to join him. 

Your heart winces hearing the heavy footsteps a floor below you from your bedroom, knowing the direction they’re heading is only further into your house and not back out the front door where you’d prefer him to be.

Thank goodness your dad has lost the ability to speak loud enough for you to hear the words that follow the thumps of Frankie’s feet. 

“Frankie, I’ve lived a very happy life. There are few things about it I’d change. But you know just as well as me that my daughter is the one who so lovingly inherited my stubbornness. Lucky for me, God knows I’m stubborn enough not to die until you and her figure this out. Unlucky for the both of you, that my time for stubbornness is starting to run thin.”

@chaotic-iguana @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog @itsokbbygrl

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @jolapeno @ovaryacted

@amanitacowboy @mystickittytaco @anoverwhelmingdin @greenwitchfromthewoods

@witchofthedeepwoods @ericamarie093 @readingiskeepingmegoing @whimsiwitchy @whoaitspascal87

@vickie5446 @katw474 @ravenpoe67 @inthedarkestnight @brittmb115

@harryscherrysugar @wonderpillar @sunnytuliptime @pasc4lfuzz @yesjazzywazzylove-blog

@javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[georgiesgirl1223]

8 Ball, Corner Pocket

Drake x MC

What happens when the pair find themselves out together?

Word Count: 3313

Warnings: NSFW 18+, nudity, masterbation, oral sex, sex, teasing, language, smut.

It was their second night in Shanghai as part of Liam and Madeline’s engagement tour. Becky was enjoying getting to learn more about Hana’s culture and she even managed to impress her father. But something was missing, she was growing tired of following the rules and regulations of the court and feeling like a farm animal being herded from one royal function to the next with all the other mindless sheep that call themselves royals. Not that she didn’t want to be there, she wanted to clear her name of the treacherous accusations against her, plus she needed to be there for Liam, they were meant to be together and clearing her name would let them do so. Although, Becky sometimes just missed her old life. Going out to a bar, having a few drinks with friends, seeing what kind of trouble they could get into, but sadly that wasn’t her life anymore. Now it was all about dressing up and getting noticed. That’s why when Becky ran into Drake on her way back from her romantic boat ride across the koi pond, she jumped at his offer to have some drinks and play some pool. Becky was feeling reckless and she just needed to get out and let loose.

“Hey Roberts” Drake grabbed onto her by her shoulders before Becky nearly collided with him.

“Oh, hey Drake. Where are you off to so late?”

“I came across this little hole in the wall bar, where I saw a pool table. Care to join me? The whisky is strong and there is zero chance of being recognized”.

“Sounds exactly like what I need right now”.

“Well let’s go. I want to get a few games in before they close”.

Becky followed Drake along the crowded streets until they came upon this bar, that if you weren’t looking for it, you’d surely walk right by it without even noticing. They entered the establishment and Drake led Becky up to the bar.

“How did you find this place?” Becky asked giving him a pointed look.

“Oh, you know. There’s plenty of time to walk around when you’re not expected to show up at every courtly function”Drake chuckled as he waved over the bartender.

“Leave it to Drake Walker to sniff out the whisky” Becky quipped as she gave him a playful nudge.

“Two glasses of the 12-year Macallan on the rocks please”. 

The bartender nodded and left to fetch their drinks as they both looked around taking in their surroundings. After receiving their drinks Drake whispered something to the bartender as Becky sniffed the brown liquid in her glass. 

“What was that about?” she asked with an arched eyebrow.

“The pool table is through there” Drake extended out his arm to point towards a door in the back. “I just wanted to make sure that we wouldn’t be disturbed” he said nonchalantly as he took a sip from his glass, not wanting it to seem as he wanted to be alone with her. 

“Let’s do this” Becky said as she jumped off her barstool and tugged at his collared shirt.

They entered the back room together and Drake shut and latched the door behind them, securing their privacy. The small room was dimly lit, with neon bar signs hanging along the walls adding an extra burst of light.

“So, what are the rules Mr. Walker?” she teased, taking a sip of the liquor, walking to the table.

Drake strutted over to the wall beside the table and retrieved two pool sticks, handing one to her. “I’ll let the lady break first, then the shot only counts when you land the ball in a corner pocket”.

Becky bit her lower lip as she thought about her next question. “And what are the stakes Walker?”

He shrugged. “I figured we were just playing for fun”.

“What’s the point if the winner doesn’t get something for their victory? How about the loser has to do whatever the winner asks?” She held out her hand to shake on the agreement. “What do you say Walker?”

He ran his hand through his hair slightly embarrassed, slightly afraid of what would happen if she wins. Drake looked up at her and locked his eyes with hers, both filled with determination, as he shook her hand. “You’ve got a deal Roberts. Now rack them up” he said gesturing towards the table.  

Becky bent over the table to rack up the balls, as she purposefully rubbed her ass up against his groin, the hem of her wrap dress riding up her thighs, teasingly rolling her hips as she placed the balls in the rack, a deep growl escaping Drake’s lips.

Drake couldn’t deny that Becky was a gorgeous woman and yes, he’s had thoughts, but she couldn’t think of him in that way, could she? He reluctantly moved to the other end of the table to watch her. She playfully ran the pool stick though her fingers before bending over to line up her shot. From his point of view, he could see the pink lace of her bra peak over the fabric of her low-cut dress. As she took her first shot, the balls clamored together, scattering over the green felt of the table. Two stripped balls sank into one of the corner pockets. She looked up at Drake, noticing his shocked expression.

“What?”

He closed his mouth and threw up his hands. “Nothing, nothing”.

She walked around, reading the table, analyzing her next shot. As she walked around Drake, Becky ran her hand across the back of his muscular shoulders and down to graze his ass. His body jolted up at her touch, he could feel his pants growing tighter as his dick hardened at the thought of being with her. Becky spotted her shot, leaning over the table and arching her back ever so slightly as she drew back the wooden stick before connecting it with the white cue ball which shot into the purple stripped ball, sailing it into the far-right corner pocket. 

Drake ran his hand down his face. “What are you going to make me do Roberts?”

Becky gave him a frisky smile as she lined up her third shot, missing the corner pocket by an inch. 

“Looks like I’m up” He scans the table before leaning over getting ready to shoot. 

Before he could Becky was standing next to him, leaning into him “Don’t miss” she whispered before running her warm, wet tongue around the shell of his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. Somehow through that Drake still managed to sink the solid orange ball into a corner pocket.

“You’re going to have to try harder than that Roberts”.

She placed herself between him and the table reaching her hands to trail them down his broad chest before roaming to the twitch in his pants, palming him gently through his pants as she lifted herself up on her tiptoes to lick his lips. “I’ll keep that in mind”, their lips nearly touching, a groan escaping Drake’s mouth as he threw his head back. She backed away, eying him as she walked to the side opposite him. He tried concentrating on his next shot, that was until he saw her toying with the knot of her wrap dress, slowly unraveling it. His eyes traveled up to meet hers, which were already watching him intently. Becky watched his eyes visibly darken as she opened up her dress and let it slide off her shoulders, revealing the soft pink lacy bra and a matching lace thong that barely covered her increasingly wet pussy. She didn’t know what it was about Drake, but she wanted him, bad. She knew wanting him was wrong, but she needed him, needed to feel his rough strong body against hers, she needed a release away from the life of a being a royal and he could give that to her.

Seeing her there barely clad, Drake fumbled his shot, sending the cue ball sailing through the billiard balls, not hitting a single one. “What are you doing Roberts!”

“Playing to win” she said with a wink as she planned her next shot.

“Okay. So that’s what we’re doing now?”

Becky shrugged as she made her play, sailing one of her striped balls into a corner pocket. 

Drake decided that he wanted to try and beat her at her own game, so he started slowly unbuttoning his shirt, shrugging it off revealing his glistening bronze skin and his perfectly chiseled chest and abs, making Becky’s jaw drop. 

“See something you like Roberts?” he teased.

“I haven’t seen the whole thing yet” Becky bantered.

They continued with the game mercilessly teasing each other along the way, until it was Drake’s turn and he only had the blue #2 ball and the black eight ball. He easily shot the blue ball in the corner pocket. “This is it Roberts, if I make this you’ll be at my mercy. Eight ball left, front corner pocket” Drake called out. Becky knew this was it and she had to pull out all the stops if she wanted to win, so she pushed herself up, sitting on the left, front edge of the table. Spreading her legs over the pocket she slipped one hand under the band of her thong, gently rubbing circles on her sensitive nub, biting her lower lip as soft moans fled her lips. 

“Roberts!” he growled.

Becky ignored him, reaching her other hand up to massage her breast, the friction of the lace heightening her pleasure and she cried out again. All Drake could do was watch in amazement at this beautiful woman spread out, touching herself for him. He clenched his pool stick with one hand and grabbed onto his manhood with the other, giving it a few tugs through his jeans. He needed to have her, he couldn’t stop thinking about how it would feel to touch her and now was his chance. Drake shook his head trying to clear the image of her from his mind as he sank the eight ball into its designated pocket. He tossed the stick on the table in a huff and walked up behind her, grabbing her by the shoulders, his bare chest pressed against her back. Startled by Drake’s reaction Becky’s hands froze. He pulled her in close, his hot breath tickling her earlobe. 

“Do you have any idea how much I want you. What you do to me?” Pressing harder into her so Becky could feel the growing hardness of his dick pressed against her back. A burst of heat washed over her body thinking about how big he was, thinking about how he would feel deep inside of her, and she gasped. “Oh, and I do believe I’ve won the game Roberts” his voice low and deep, she could feel the growl reverberating in his chest. 

“So, what does the winner get?” she asked looking up at him, his pupils blown out with lust. 

“You” he groaned as he crashed his lips onto hers, his tongue rolling around hers in a heated kiss. “But first I want you to lay back on the table and continue”. Becky crawled to the middle of the table, laid back on the felt and spread her legs to give him a better view. She slipped her hand under the pink lace, her fingers roaming her wet folds.

“Ohhh!” she groaned out, one finger plunging into her cunt. Her back arched and her hips bucked when she added a second finger. Drake sat back watching her body writhe in front of him as she inched herself closer to an orgasm. He sipped his drink as his hand rested firmly on his groin.  

He couldn’t take it any longer. Fuck decorum. He wanted her, and she wanted him. Drake strut up to her, running his rough hands up her legs as he grasped her hips, playing with the band of her panties. 

“Drake” she whispered. 

His hands roamed up her sides and over her breasts as he leaned over her trailing hard kisses across her chest and down her stomach, working his way to her inner thighs, the smell of her was intoxicating. Drake ran his hands back down her body, giving her goosebumps, as he hooked his hands around her thong, yanking it off, letting it fall to the floor. Drake returned his head in between her legs, her hands running through and gripping at his dark hair. 

“I wonder if you taste as sweet as I imagined” his tongue traversing her folds lapping up her juices. “Mmmm” he breathed out as his tongue dove into her warm wet center. 

“Fuck! Drake!” Her hands pulled him in closer, bucking her hips on his tongue. “Ohhh!” She yelled out. “Mmmm, yeah”.

He placed one firm hand on her stomach, pressing her into the felt tabletop attempting to still her. “Fuck Roberts” you taste so sweet. He replaced his tongue with one finger, bobbing in and out, curling as he hit her sweet spot, his lips suctioned around her clit.

Waves of heat washed over her body as he slipped in a second finger. “Drake! Fuck I’m going to cum Drake!” She felt him smirk against her clit as he kept going, ushering her closer to her orgasm. He growled out as he felt her muscles tighten around his fingers as she came, her juices dripping down his hand. Drake stood as he slowly removed his hand, watching her body convulse on the table, a few stray whimpers leaving her throat. Ignoring her shaking body and her weakened muscles Becky sat up wrapping all of her limbs around his hard body. Her hands encircling his neck, pulling him in close for a hungry kiss, tasting her juices mixed with the whiskey on his tongue. Drake responded by drawing her in closer, one hand trailed down her spine, unhooking her bra, while the other got lost in her hair as he deepened the kiss. Becky broke the kiss trying to catch her breath, her chest heaving. “I need you Drake” she said breathlessly as she nuzzled in his neck, kissing and nibbling down to his breastbone, her name parting from his lips in a lustful groan.

“Here?”

“Mmhhmm” she said as she kissed up his neck, lips roaming over his Adam’s apple and chin, biting his lower lip.

He’s thought about this moment for so long, he’s wanted her ever since he found out she was in Cordonia. But he always imagined their first time, if there ever was a first time, to be more romantic. He couldn’t deny his feelings for her any longer. Feeling her lips and hands roam over his body, he gave into the temptation. “Oh, Roberts” he started, running his hand down her cheek, “I need you too. I’ve wanted you for so long”. He kissed her again, more passionately this time, filling with something other than just lust. Becky reached down and undid his belt, letting it hang to the side. She then undid the top button of his jeans before slowly unzipping them. Her hand dove down, eagerly reaching under his boxers to wrap her fingers around his thick, hard dick as she shimmied off his pants with her feet. Drake gasped at her touch, the way her soft skin felt gripping on to him was better than he imagined. 

“Boxers off Walker”.

Drake backed away to slide the confining clothing from his body, Becky leaning back on her arms, taking in the sight of him. His eyes hungrily roamed her naked body and suddenly she felt so self-conscience, attempting to cover herself up.

“What?” She asked him, afraid that something was wrong.

He shook his head “Roberts, you are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen”. That made her smile and relax. He repositioned himself in between her legs, running his fingers along her thighs, wrapping her legs around his waist. “I’m going to make you scream my name” he said as he teased her wet opening with his tip.

Hearing him say those words sent a shiver through her body at the thought of what was about to happen. Drake laid her back on the table, leaning over her as he slowly inched into her. She felt her walls spread and contract as he entered her. As soon as he was in, Drake have a few slow pumps before quickening his tempo. His big hands held onto her tits as he repeatedly pounded into her wet pussy. “Fuck Roberts. You’re so tight” he breathed out as he tweaked her nipples into hard peaks.

“Ohhh, fuck, Drake!!” She cried out as her body writhed on the table. He felt her walls tighten around his cock, telling him that she was close. 

Drake withdrew his throbbing cock from her wetness. “Get up and bend over the table” he commanded.

Becky’s never seen that commanding side of him before and it turned her on. Her body, weak and trembling attempted to slide off the table. As soon as she was on her feet, Drake whirled her around, pressing on her back to bend her over the thrust deep inside her. One arm was around her waist holding up her smaller frame as the other pulled her head back by her hair. His thrusts came hard and quick. 

“Fuck Drake. Ohhhh fuck!!”.

“That’s its Roberts, scream my name!” His voice a deep growl. He pulled up her body so her back was arched, planting kisses across her back as he continued with his thrusts. “Fuck Roberts you feel so damn good!”

Her walls began to tighten again as she yelled out his name, a chant from her lips as she came. “Drake! Drake! Drake!”

Feeling her muscles tighten around him sent him flying over the edge. He groaned out her name as if it were his personal mantra. “Roberts!” He cried out as he spilled his cum inside her, covering her walls. He held onto her trembling body tightly as he rested his head on her back as they both worked to steady their bodies and breath. Drake helped her up as he turned her around to face him, brushing the hair from her face, a huge grin crossing both their mouths. He looked deeply into her eyes and gently kissed her lips before pulling her tight into his chest, stroking her back. Feeling how he held her close, she instinctively wrapped her arms around him, fingers gently grazing the muscles of his toned back as they both came down from their high. They stayed like that, entangled as one, until their bodies returned to normal. Drake reluctantly pulled away from her, picked up her clothing, and handed it to her, a shy smile on his lips. They dressed in a slightly awkward silence until Becky walked up to Drake, placing a hand on his arm as he buttoned his shirt. 

“Drake”.

“Let’s just get back to the hotel, I’m sure you have a long day tomorrow” his voice cold and emotionless. She removed her hand, looking down to hide her pained expression. Drake guided Becky back to the hotel, ushering her through the lobby and into the elevator. 

“Drake. Talk to me. It seems like you just flipped a switch”.

“Roberts, I’ve dreamt about that moment for so long and I just thought it would be…I don’t know…. different. Plus, what about Liam. There’s just so many factors to consider”.

The elevator dings and opens to Becky’s floor, she stepped out into the hallway, holding the door to keep it from closing. “You know Drake, we can figure all that stuff out tomorrow. Why don’t you accompany me to my room? At least for an hour or two.”

Excited and a bit surprised at her invitation Drake steps out into the hallway with her. 

[whencallstheheart]

kvanbooven: I really enjoyed this episode. Fiona being a handy business woman was great. The Faith plot just reminded me of DQMW where michaela had to deal with the prejudice every episode and we know WCTH will just have it as a one and done which made me kinda disappointed. Hickam being the doctor was hilarious. I was also shocked about Faith and Nathan but based on how much they are pushing them, I’m not totally convinced it’s over. I hope it is, but considering we don’t know what happened between seasons between them, I feel like something else might happen. I loved rosaleens plot and how it interconnects with Henry’s. It’s such a good story for him. The only thing is that I don’t think Rosaleen would know Opal unless they want us to believe R was there during s3 just not in screen 😂 I did not see the Madeline twist coming either. Like I knew something was up but wasn’t expecting her to be engaged. Also the E and N look during the dance? And L being called out about surprises is so funny to me. You can just tell by Elizabeth’s and rosemarys reactions when they are talking about it. I hope in future episodes we get to know where rosaleens been all this time since she was a little girl when she “left”

Yes, it was very Dr. Quinn with that plot. And you're so right. Faith gets it from 1 singular patient and will probably never have to deal with it again but Dr. Mike had it constantly for like the entire show with people doubting her abilities as a doctor which was very realistic for the time period.

I think there is still a chance that they could circle around to Nathan and Faith again but they've really been pushing Mike's crush on her. They've been forcing Nathan and Faith but Mike's always been there in the background too. He obviously cares for her so I'm hoping that's the direction they go in moving forward.

Ideally it'd be great if we could get Nathan and Mei together again. She stepped aside for Faith's sake so without her in the picture there's nothing standing in the way of that connection they were building for the entirety of last season. Maybe the writers didn't completely throw that in the trash and are only letting us think they did. Who knows.

The Rosaleen timeline is really weird. She was really young the last time we saw her. She's still young. There do seem to be some missing years between when we stopped seeing her and when she was old enough to be a live-in nanny for some random couple in another town. It's strange. It's so nice to see her again but there's a lot of questions for sure. I don't remember if Molly ever gave any details.

[bloodieash]

“Come in.” Magnus called when he heard a knock on his apartment door. He wasn’t expecting anyone which just meant it could have been literally anyone. But Magnus grinned when a familiar red head poked her head in. “Madeline. To what do I owe this surprise?” 

Maddie only shook her head as she fully entered the apartment, bottom lip caught between her teeth. She crossed her arms and focused on Magnus. 

Magnus was used to being under scrutiny, especially shadowhunter scrutiny, but this felt different. Important. 

He knew Maddie looked up to him, and had since he’d taken her under his wing to teach her magic. But this didn’t feel like his protegee staring him down. 

“You and Alec have a date night tonight right?” 

Tension filled Magnus. 

“Yes, is there a problem with that?” 

Maddie had never given an inclination that she had a problem with his and Alexander’s relationship before. 

“No. No.” Maddie quickly waved Magnus’s concerns and some of the tension left him. “No.” She repeated with another shake of her head. “I was just wondering...” She trailed off. Her eyes darted around for a moment before finding Magnus again. She took a deep breath, straightened her shoulders, and gave a sharp nod. “I was wondering if there was any way I could borrow your apartment for a surprise for Z tonight. Just something nice for you two to come home to.” 

Magnus knew half of what Maddie said was in what she didn’t say, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out what she was leaving out. Still, she looked up to him and he knew she would put herself into harm's way before she endangered Alexander so he couldn’t think of a reason she couldn’t borrow the apartment. 

“How involved is this surprise?” He didn't want Maddie throwing a party without him, though he doubted Alexander would see that as a nice surprise. 

Maddie frowned before she pursed her lips. “Not very...” She trailed off again and shook her head. “Let’s just say if you tell Z about it he’ll figure it out long before you will.” 

And the last of the tension Magnus was holding slipped away from him. If Alexander could figure out what Maddie was planning with what limited information she’d passed along to Magnus then it was most likely related to some tradition they had established long before Magnus was in the picture. 

“I don’t see why not as long as you promise to clean up afterwards.” 

Maddie laughed. “Oh yeah, set up and clean up are absolutely included in the surprise.” 

For some reason that made Magnus nervous. 

Five hours later Magnus’s nerves were mostly forgotten, though they came roaring to the forefront as he stood in front of his door with Alexander. 

“Magnus? Are you okay?” Alexander asked. 

Magnus nodded. “Madeline stopped by earlier and asked if she could borrow the apartment. Said it would be a surprise for us to come home to.” 

Alexander frowned before checking his phone. Whatever he saw made a bright smile break out on his face. He opened the door without preamble and entered the apartment, Magnus quick on his heels. 

Standing in the middle of Magnus’s living room, surrounded by a large pile of pillows and blankets was Alexander’s family; Jace, Isabelle, Maddie, and Elle. Suspended by magic over their heads were five medium sized hooks in a circle. 

“Are you sure?” Alexander asked, his smile no smaller, but a little more nervous around the edges. 

“Well between Valentine and Aldertree it’s not like we’ve had the chance to do this in awhile.” Isabelle started. 

“And the Institute hasn’t felt particularly safe since them either.” Elle picked up. 

Maddie met Alexander’s eyes. “If you’re sure Z, so are we.” 

Alexander crossed the room quickly and pulled the three girls into a tight hug. Jace grinned at them before turning to face Magnus who still wasn’t a hundred percent sure what was going on. 

Jace nodded to himself and pulled a hunter green sheet out of the pile. He passed the sheet to Magnus before pulling another one out, this one must have once been white, but now had pink splotches dotted across it as though it had been washed with something red.

“Hang this on one of the hooks. But no magic.”

“Oh come on he’s tall enough he can do it without even thinking the word magic.” Elle teased when the others broke their hug. She shot a grin at Maddie that had Maddie sticking her tongue out at Elle.

“Yeah yeah I get it I’m short.” Maddie moved over to where Jace was hanging up his sheet. 

Confused Magnus followed suit. Alexander moved closer to help him. While Isabelle and Elle picked up their own sheets. 

Alexander chuckled. “When Maddie first moved to the Institute she couldn’t sleep.” He started. He pulled a thick comforter out of the pile and spread it under the open cone the sheet created once it was hanging from the hook. “The only way she could, is if she had someone with her.”  

“And we were all more than happy to help her out. Even if Alec was a bit reluctant at first.” Isabelle continued. She held up two pillows for Elle to judge. Elle took a moment before she picked the fluffy bright red heart. Isabelle tossed the heart into her cone before throwing the other at Alexander’s back. Jace quickly snatched it out of the air. 

“Of course once Elle and Maddie decided they were going to be parabatai Maddie started only sleeping with Elle.” Isabelle continued. She picked up a regular pillow in a blood red case that matched her sheet cone. 

“And Jace the jealous ass couldn’t handle that.” Elle giggled, ignoring the dirty look Jace shot her. 

“Hang on.” Maddie laughed, green eyes sparking. “This is so not how I remember the story going.” 

“Really?” Alexander teased. He grabbed the throw pillow Maddie was holding out to him. “Seems pretty accurate to me.” 

Maddie gaped at Alexander but in the same moment grabbed another to whack across Alexander’s shoulder. Alexander narrowed his eyes before lunging forward. He dug his fingers into Maddie’s sides and tickled her mercilessly. 

“I yield. I yield!” Maddie screeched between giggles. 

Alexander laughed. He dropped a kiss to the top of Maddie’s head before moving back to help Magnus.

“Anyway,” Jace said with a shake of his head. “We all came to a compromise between Maddie’s need for a sleep buddy and the frankly terrifying gossip group of Alec, Maddie, and Elle.” Jace looked at Magnus when he emphasized the terrifying. 

Elle rolled her eyes. “Once a month we’d meet in the Institute library for a slumber party.” She seemed to deem the cone she was working on with Isabelle, despite the completely untouched one right next to it, done and slipped inside. Isabelle followed her. 

“It took a while to work out the logistics, but once we did....” Isabelle grinned as she wiggled into a more comfortable position. “It became a family tradition.” 

[gay-dorito-dust]

Based on this prompt

Lately you haven’t been feeling the best, mentally to be more specific, and had been avoiding pretty much everyone in favour of staying within the confines of staying in the confides of your measly little apartment in solitary as your mind berates you and your lack of productivity in less then savoury ways; which only furthered your shitty feeling ergo making making the negative Nancy that lived within your head all the more eager in their tirade.

You didn’t have the energy to do much given your current state of mind, not even bothering to change out of your hoodie and sweats that were starting to smell the faintest bit of BO which wasn’t at all helped by your lack of basic personal hygiene. Nor did you have the energy to pick up your phone when what seemed to be the hundredth notification popped up on the Home Screen, the most likely candidate behind this would have to be Adrian, seeing as he was the kind to spam your phone after a missed phone call or unread text. Chris had warned you of Adrian’s constant requirement of communication when you first started to become friends with the black ops team right after becoming their medic and resident shit talker.

It didn’t take you long to figure out that Adrian was on his way because a) it became a with sense and b) his latest text read and I quote 🧜🏻‍♂️Adrian🧜🏻‍♂️: ‘Don’t worry BBFFL- which means best friends for life- I’m coming over to make sure your not dead and or hiding a body without me because how could you!’ So as you waited for the inevitable you managed to summon enough strength to unlatch your window, knowing how much he seemed to hate entering your apartment like a normal individual, before retreating to your bed once more and closing your eyes for a light nap. You felt a light pressure against your cheek tapping once, “y/n”, tapping twice, “y/n”, and tapping a third time before finally opening your eyes, “y/n…fuck I think they’re dead.” What you saw was Adrian invading your personal space. Strands of his brunette hair tickled your forehead, his nose brushing against your own as his glasses framed eyes stared into yours with no thought behind them; almost as though his body worked separately to his mind most of the time which would explain a lot in retrospect. Though if had anyone else came to bare witness they would’ve rightfully assumed that you were going to kiss but considering that you knew Adrian well enough to know that this was quite a common place occurrence and shouldn’t really be looked at any deeper then that.

“I’m not dead you fucking dumbass,” you grunted, blinking away the sleep, “I was just resting my eyes before you came alon- hang on a minute how the fuck did you get in my apartment? I’m pretty sure I Adrian proofed my door from last time.” You shuffled your body so that your back was pressed somewhat comfortably against the headboard. “Your window was unlocked, you really shouldn’t leave it unlocked at night y/n it’s the easiest way of getting killed or kidnapped like Madeline McCann…” you looked over his shoulder to see that your window was wide open and that your curtains have been pushed aside whilst the usual shit that littered your desk now littered the floor; a tell tell sign that Adrian must’ve kicked and or shoved to the floor for easier access. He had the expression of a innocent puppy that hadn’t just shitted on the carpet moments prior, large doe eyes and slightly pouty lips that told you not to be mad at him and you couldn’t be mad, you were too fucking depressed to even feel an ounce of annoyance towards him.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll make sure not to leave my window unlocked ever again. Thank you Adrian for bestowing me with your vast wisdom. Whatever would I do without you.”

“You’re welcome y/n I- wait that was sarcasm wasn’t it? I told you guys to make it more apparent when you’re gonna be sarcastic and or rhetorical! You can’t expect me to understand this shit!” Adrian whined, his shoulders slumped like that of a scolded child’s. Social cues weren’t up Adrian’s alley; that was very much on display upon your first team meeting. He didn’t understand when enough was enough, he didn’t understand rhetoric/sarcastic remarks and he didn’t understand non verbal cues either as far as you were aware that one day you decided to try and teach him when it was cut short as the conversation derailed into a massive debate on how to pronounce the word scone. Which then became a ‘how to steal ducks from a pond without getting caught 101’ lecture.

Even though you were feeling shitty beyond belief you had to thank Adrian for being here and being his goofy self when he had the decision of not to because within the small amount of time since his arrival he had managed to get you to talk more, engage in his antics and appreciate the company of another human being that you normally would’ve despised days prior. “Your right. I’m sorry, I’ll let you know when I’m sarcastic and or rhetorical next time. Though I do have to ask, why are you here really because normally you would be with Chris fucking shit up.” The male’s eyes flickered between emotions for a moment before nonchalantly shrugging, his hand fiddling with your own in means of avoiding direct eye contact. “ I came to check up on you, I haven’t seen you in ages. Chris was the one to encourage me in doing so.” If there was one thing you hated was how self sacrificial Adrian was and how you’d knew once upon a time Chris wouldn’t even think twice in doing the same for him. You never told Adrian this as it would only come across in his mind that you were hating on peacemaker. Which in some cases you absolutely were.

You tightened your hand against his, not entirely use to the moments where he did show his compassion and worry for another human being. It reminded you that at the end of the day he was just as human as you were even if he was a little unstable he still had the best of intentions at heart…sometimes. Some where more morally corrupt then others but that was Adrian and you didn’t want him any other way. “that’s really sweet of you Adri. I just…haven’t been feeling the best,” you tapped a finger against your temple, “up here.” “So you thought the best course of action was to stick yourself in self-isolation thinking it was going to help?” He raised his brows at you as if to tell you how he thought about it even though it wasn’t necessary as you were already aware of how it sounded. “Yeah,” you shrugged, “I didn’t feel like doing anything else at the time.” Adrian then thought to himself for a while before an idea popped into his head and he was quite eager to execute it and began to tug you out of your bed and towards towards the door but was stopped when you let go of his hand cussing him to look at you with a hurt expression. “I’m trying to cheer you up why’d you let go of my hand? Did I say something?” You sighed, pointing in the direction of the widow that was still very much open for a potential burglary and Adrian’s mouth formed an ‘o’ shape and waited patiently by the door as you shut the widow, locking it for good measure and turning off the light before giving Adrian your hand once more so he could lead you to the Sebring aka the vigilante mobile parked out front.

“Adrian, it’s closed.” You told him point blank when you both stopped outside an animal shelter, noting the closed sign that had an adorable picture of a blue staffy and a golden retriever on either side. When Adrian mentioned that he was going to take you somewhere to cheer you up you defiantly weren’t thinking of an animal shelter at the time but found it sweet that his mind didn’t go immediately to absolute carnage like it normally would but right now it just felt like a waste of time coming here for the both of you. “Is it really closed?” Adrian asked as he pulled out something from his pocket and approached the door of the animal shelter, kneeling down so he was eye level with the lock. “Yes it is, there’s a sign saying so and everything.” You pointed out to him as he stopped what he was doing to stare at the sign before looking over his shoulder at you with a grin and a wink before going back to what he was doing prior when he stood up once more and opened the door for you to enter. “Adrian!” You hissed, “what the fuck are you doing we’re gonna get in big trouble and Harcourt and Murn are gonna have our asses.” He didn’t answer you straight away but instead let the door close before grabbing you by the hand again and dragging into the shop he totally didn’t just lock picked and into the back where the puppies and kittens would most likely be stationed.

“Like I said, I’m doing this to cheer you up.” He said as he picked three puppies and three kittens in each arm before handing you the papillon, the shorthair and the sleepy corgi who tried their best to snuggle into your warmth while he carried the rest towards a more comfortable area. “Yeah but I’m pretty Shute getting arrested isn’t gonna make me feel any better.” You coddled the corgi against your chest with one hand as the shorthair slept on your lap with your other hand working overtime to give the slumbering cat and the puppy equal affection. This wasn’t what you had in mind at all but it’s the thought that counts you guessed and from the large smile upon Adrian’s face as the dachshund nibbled at his shoelaces and the Persian and Birman occupied either of his thighs and how softly he played with the puppy without disturbing the kittens sleep. “Do you think Eagly would get jealous?” He mentioned absentmindedly, running his fingers against the Persians fur before doing the same for the the Birman then finally the dachshund that wouldn’t stop nibbling.

“Jealous? Eagly? No I doubt it. Why? Is one of your life achievements is to make an eagle jealous?” You mused, bopping the corgi on the nose gently and watching as it slowly lifted a paw in the air as if to swat you away albeit very cutely. You chuckled to yourself, feeling at ease within a shelter you just broke in and entered on your own accord but with Adrian it felt like another day. You never knew what he was going to do next and you guessed there was some thrill to it. Even if it meant whatever you were doing was against the law. “Maybe, just wanted to test my theory of smelling like another animal and seeing if Eagly would react differently then usual.” You laughed wholeheartedly. Maybe getting in trouble would be worth if it meant getting to see a side of Adrian you never thought to exist. “Fuck you really do crack me up Adri, don’t ever change or I will personally beat your ass.” Adrian smiled at the sound of your laughter, he finally achieved what he came here to do and god did it feel good to see that sparkle in your eyes once more and your lighthearted threats of beating his ass. He honestly didn’t think this would work but he was grateful that it did in the end because it meant that he had managed to pull you from the depths of your own darkness and that in his mind was pretty heroic.