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dcxdpdabbles · 5 months

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Hey, I dont know if you are currently acepting asks but... Please can you write something with Clockwork/Alfred? I'll give you a cookie?

I really love how you write and i cant find fics with this ship

Danny gets a cryptic message from Clockwork the night that he, Sam, Tucker, and Jazz are supposed to go on a three-week College tour road trip.

A trip that they were going to use to decide where the three graduating students planned on going to college. Jazz was coming along to ease their parents' worry, mainly as a voice of reason. She had taken time off of work and classes just to make this happen.

It had taken months to plan.

So cryptic messages put a damper on the mood. Granted, all notifications from Clockwork were cryptic, but that didn't make this any less stressful.

He had just sat by his bed, leaning his back onto his lower bed frame and mattress, when he noticed the glowing sticker note on the carpeted floor.

"What does it say?" Sam sighs, closing her suitcase. She was kneeling a few feet away from him, double-checking their luggage. "A warning about the trip? Insight of an upcoming trial? Oh, let me guess, one of us is pregnant?."

"It's me, isn't it?" Tuck asks from where he's lying on Danny's bed. He places a hand under his chin with a sigh. "I've noticed a glow in my reflection lately. Danny, you're the Father."

"Shut it, Tuck." Danny laughs, turning the glowing sticky note over. "It just has an address, a date, and a time. Nothing else. I think he wants us to go there when the day comes."

Jazz walks in carrying a tray. She insisted they all take some bedtime tea to help them get enough rest for the drive. She recently started making her own blends after much research and experimenting. Danny loves it and always begs for a jar of her tea whenever he visits her. "What's going on?"

"We have to add a stop to the road plan," Sam sighs. She takes the black mug covered in white laughing sculls, nodding in gratitude to the redhead. "In one week, we have to go to Gotham."

"That's doable. We'll be going through Bludhaven by then. We would use the following two days to go sightseeing a few cities over, but we can sacrifice one of them to head to Gotham instead." Jazz hums, mentally going over their planned-out map that she likely memorized.

Danny groans, carefully resting the black mug with white constellations on the floor beside him. "I really wanted to see the hot springs resort, though."

"Member next time, Danny." Tuck pats his head while his own black mug- this one with little game controllers- is held carefully in his other hand. "After the baby is born, we'll go again."

"Why are you stuck on the whole baby thing?"

"Danny, that's no way to speak to the father of your children, especially while he's carrying," Sam chided from her corner. "The stress is bad for the baby."

"Please stop."

"But Danny," Jazz cuts in, sitting across from him. She crosses her legs underneath her, and her black mug with white books completes the set. "You should be supportive of Tucker in this very delicate time."

"I'm going to Go Ghost and never come back."

"I knew you be a deadbeat dad," Tucker tsks.

The four burst into impish laughter; the ease of the teasing joke and the calming tea rekindled the mood of excitement, even with Clockwork's glowing sticky note being shoved into their luggage to be revisited in a week.

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

"Are you sure this is the place?" Danny asks again, leaning forward to where Tucker is driving.

Jaz looks around in fascination at the large houses and spacious yards they pass while Sam sleeps beside Danny in the backseat. She just finished her turn driving for seven hours and wanted to catch up on sleep.

Personally, Danny thinks she shouldn't volunteer for the first shift- they set out at four in the morning to keep to their road plan- but he knows no one else would do it if Sam didn't.

Neither Fenton works well before nine a.m., while Tucker needs help seeing in the dark, so he always gets the day shift.

Tucker's grip on the steering wheel tightens as he grits through his teeth. "For the sixth time, Danny, this is where the GPS said to go. I am literally staring at the icon move on the map as I drive."

"It's just....look at this place! It's rich people. I think they call the cops on us for driving through here." Danny defends, knowing his consent doubts driving his bed friend up a wall but unable to stop fretting.

"I don't think they call the cops....but I think we should move as quickly as possible." Jazz advised as the houses started to grow in both size and property amount. "We're almost there."

"Why would Clockwork want us to come here?" Tucker hissed as their old beat-up fan made a turn into a road that had the trees cut into arches above their heads. It was so obviously fancy that the three got highly uncomfortable. Even Sam's house wasn't so drenched in wealth, and this was just the front entrance.

"Maybe he wants us to investigate a haunted mansion." Danny offers, "Since we're in the area and all."

Danny leans back in his seat. He glances over at Sam; upon noticing the blanket she was using had slid down, he reaches over to tuck her in.

It's just as he sits back that his enhanced sight catches the faintest outline of a man in the trees, crouched down on a branch and watching them. Danny's heart spams, but he has no time to react further as the van moves on and the man's figure disappears in the floral.

"Holy shit!" Danny swears loudly, causing Tucker to jump and tilt the van.

"Dude!" Tucker hisses, "Don't do that! You scared the shit out of me."

"Sorry, sorry." Danny places a hand over his heart, trying to calm the rapid beating. "I think I just saw a demon. Pretty sure that's what Clockwork wanted us to investigate."

"A demon?" Jazz whimpers, eyes flickering all over the trees with unease. "Are you sure it was a demon?"

"It looked liked like a one," Danny responds. "I highly doubt some guy will just go around dressed like a bat for fun."

" Great. Just great. A demon, that's going to be so much fun to deal with," Tucker complains, pressing on the gas more. They don't call him out as the feeling of being watched becomes suffocating.

The sooner they're out of the open, the better.

The end of the driveway opens up to a grand manor that would have made any noble Lord green with envy. Tucker drives around the giant fountain, pulling up to the park in front of the stairway of the main entry.

He squints out the front window as he loops before gasping. "Is that Clockwork?"

The Fenton Siblings each press their noses to the glass of their windows when they come to a complete stop. Both gasped at the exact same time and in the same volume at the man who was casually waiting for them at the door.

It's obviously Clockwork, but he's not in the form they are used to. Not the flouting child, not the sticking middle-aged man, or the aged old entity. No, the form Clockwork uses is a man in his early fifties, with the grace of a sliver fox and, oh, not a ghost.

"Hello, children," Clockwork says, walking down the stairs to meet them. The three are staring at him with slack jaws, half out of their vehicle but lingering in their doors just in case.

Sam snores.

"I'm ever so glad you have come." Clockwork continues, his green eyes flickering with mirth. A smile pulls at his lips, causing laughing lines to appear around his eyes, and it complements his warm bridge skin. He is not blue. "Not a moment too late. Punctual as ever, Jasmine."

"I- ugh, thank you, sir." Jazz shutters before getting her wits about her. "Why did you call us?"

"I will be delaying your trip for the next week." Clockwork lifts up a hand as if to stop any complaints this announcement may cause, which isn't really necessary, seeing as none of them can find the strength to speak. "I will, of course, make it possible to make up the time lost. I just need you four to act as my children for the next week."

"Why?" Tucker's voice is barely above a whisper.

"I can only keep this form for seven days, as I am not a halfa, but in that time, I hope to woo a man. He is a family man through and through, so if I can show him that I am more than capable of caring for a large family, it will help me in the long run." Clockwork then shrugs. "Plus, I need an anchor, and what better than four virgins?"

"Hey!" Danny shouts offended.

Clockwork raises a brow. "Am I wrong, Daniel?"

"No, but you didn't have to expose me like that," Danny grumbles.

"Who are you trying to woo?" Jazz asks, trying to steer the conversation back on track.

Clockwork's cheeks gain a reddish hue, and the three eyes practically pop out of their socket. They never knew the time god could be so...human. It's jarring. "Alfred Pennyworth. The butler of Wayne Manor, four houses down from our manor."

"A butler?" Tucker repeats slowly, "You, the god of time and overseer of all that is, has been, and will be, want to seduce a butler?"

"Yes. He is the love of my core," Clockwork nods determinedly.

Well, who can argue with that?

"Alright." Danny agrees. "So what's our cover story?"

"Yes, my four children- all adopted- and I have recently decided to go learn about our family roots and visit our ancestral home. Only to remodel and check out the family records, we will be out by the end of the week to our next grand adventure. We are old money but one that faded from importance due to lack of contact with the rest of high society. To remedy this, I will be taking you to high-class events." Clockwork sighs dreamily. "We were invited by the Waynes to a gala tomorrow night as a welcome-back party. There, I will see Alfred."

"Alright. And the demon?"

"Demon?"

"A man in the driveway that looked like a bat." Danny helpfully says, even though his voice wavers slightly.

"Oh, you mean Bruce. Yes, that's Alfred's son. Don't worry; he can not cross our driveway. I put a spell that causes humans to forget why they were coming here if not invited by us. Also, he is not a demon. He is a human who dresses like a bat to fight crime. Bruce's children dress like birds to help him."

There is silence that sounds louder than it should as they all take in this information. Clockwork smiles at him, mischievous and graceful in equal parts as they try to make sense of the weird kid Alfred the Butler has.

"I'm going to need a lot of stress-reducing teas for this week." Jazz sighs.

"We can go buy some for you tonight," Clockwork promises, pulling out a black card and grinning with all his teeth. "We're old money now, darling."

"oh my god."

Master Post Link

#dcxdpdabbles #dc x dp crossover #Woo thy Butler my Lord #Old Timers #Fake family #Clockwork is human and here to simp #Bruce was checking out the new neighbors. He's suspicious of them #Team Phantom just wanted to check out colleges

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blingblong55 · 4 months

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Rewards -Simon 'Ghost' Riley NSFW

Photo credits: @ave661

Based on a request:

So like.. here me out bro.. (I thought about this while doing dishes-..) Olderbf!ghost (23) x college!fy/n (20) Y/n was stressing about a paper that was half her overall grade,when she found out she made a 100/100 ghost took her shopping and went out on a date (the man needs his own reward to doesn’t he? Also now it takes place after their date) so when she was busy with extra work at her desk ghost came behind and started messaging her boobs.. so they went to the couch and cuddled as she sat in his lap she felt something poking her “hey ghostie? Is that your phone in your pocket?”“No love I don’t have my phone on me right now” And so she was flustered as he began to hold her hips and dry hump her (dry humping is one of my fave things 😘) anyways after their little “fun time” the next morning they had brunch (the rest of this isn’t important I just wanted to add it) they had brunch with some friends and ghost became touchy.. resting his hand on her thigh.. grazing her pantie lines.. after all he wants to reward his smart collage girl 😘😘

---- F!Reader, smut, older!bf Ghost, uni student!reader, dry humping, MDNI, thigh fucking ----

A/N: sorry it's short...but I hope ya like it :)

Finals week, books, lots of hours staring at paper or a screen, coffee and him, what a way to study. After long hours of taking the test, you come back home to him. You walk in and he is already waiting by the door. "So?" he asks nervously for the grade of the exam. "Seventy-five out of seventy-five." He smiles and wraps his arms around you, spinning you around as he does so. "That's my girl," he puts you down and gives you a big kiss.

After much talk over dinner and many kisses later, you went back to studying for the next exam, he was on the sofa next to your desk. Watching in awe as you study. You look at him and smile before going back to studying and that was enough to make him stand up, walk behind your chair and place his head on your shoulder. "Number nine is wrong, think again," his voice soft. Simon begins to let his big strong hands wander to your chest, cupping your boobs and massaging them. You lean back and close your eyes, he chuckles. "Let's go to the sitting room and cuddle, yeah?"

One simple nod from you and now, he and you lay on the couch, watching some shit comedy special and having lazy laughs throughout the night. Your warm back to his cosy chest, his lips meeting your neck, you smile and snuggle to his touch. Moments like these were rare, especially during such a stressful week but Simon always managed to make it so special for you.

His large hands go under your shirt once more, and he plays with your boobs, adoring the softens of them as he looks at the screen. You shift close to him and then you feel it, something hard poking your bum. "Hey, Simon? I think you left your phone in your pocket again," you look back just a little and catch him grinning. "S'not my phone, lovie," he nuzzles his face to your neck and kisses it. "…Oh," your cheeks flushed as you understand what was poking you. His hands, travelling down to your hips, he begins to dry hump you, his hardened cock being grinned at you. You let out a soft and needy moan. "Simon~" From your lips, a whisper leaves. "Shh, it's okay, lovie," his voice lower and darker as he lets out a grunt.

He slowly pulls his trousers down, lifts your skirt and removes your panties. "Lovie, let me fuck those pretty thighs, yes?" He asks as he begins to let his cock slowly get in between your thighs. His thrusts are slow and nice, his fat cock and balls hitting your thighs. "This is what my smart little girl gets," his voice is lower now. Your hands holding yourself from falling off. His moans so deep and hot, "Fuck, R/N, the things you make me feel," he moans, his cock twitching with anticipation. Your soft thighs are the perfect warmer for now.

His cum, leaking and painting your inner thighs with the sticky seed. You were more than aroused but he wouldn't reward you just yet, after all, good girls pass all their exams before getting the big and warm reward.

The next morning, as you celebrated yet another successful exam, your friend group all went out to brunch. He of course joined and throughout much of the meal, his warm hands played with your thighs. Caressing them, giving them a nudge anytime he felt your hands wandering on his belt. He knew your tricks all too well, and he took had some under his sleeve. He drags your chair closer to his, his thumb playing with the pantie line, giving you looks and teasing neck kisses.

He knows how to get you hot and bothered, so, he begins to whisper dirty jokes to you, telling you plans of what he'll do to you once home. "And then, I'm going to make you scream my name, lovie. Make sure your body is marked by me, my cum all over those pretty tits of yours," he whisper filled with nothing but lust. He can see you squirm on your seat, playing innocent to your friends as he gives you plans on how to make you more obedient.

And that is why you end up tied to the bed, a gag ball to your mouth as he tapes a vibrator to your thigh. Your moans muffled, as he spanks your cunt, smirks and chuckles when you let our cries of pleasure. "It's what you wanted no, to be used and rewarded, darling," he kisses your cheek before slowly fingering your cunt. Your eyes fill with tears as your third orgasm builds up. Your nod only leads him to praise you, "oh that's my good girl," he kisses your forehead and walks away, letting his little toys play with his good girl.

Tags:

@liyanahelena @ghostslillady @unicorngirly1 @under-the-dirt @greatstormcat @goldenmclaren @moonsua1 @rvivienner @krinoid24 @iruzias @frizzseaberries @frazie99 @idkl2ols @katybaby00 @night-mare-owl-79 @saoirse06 @vampsquerade @alxexhearts @juneonhoth @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @defnotlpuluvyou @enarien @Simonssweetgirl @luvecarson @nellsbobells @willowaftxn83-87

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chasedbyatlantic · 2 months

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flawless, joel miller

masterlist summary: IN WHICH — joel miller comes to you hurt and in pain, after realizing that you are the only one that he can find peace with - you're there to welcome him with open arms.

warnings: post outbreak!joel, boston qz era!joel, gender neutral!reader, no use of y/n, frenemies to lovers type trope, angsty to fluff, mentions of blood/injuries/death (lightly mentioned), joel being so sappy i love it, swearing, cute ending. lmk if i missed anything!

wordcount: 2.9k

a/n: i hope u love this as much as i do. i've been meaning to write it for a while, and it's a bit of a diff style from my writing but i love how it turned out! make sure to reblog, like, comment and follow for more! xoxo

—

It had to have been three in the morning by now. When Joel said he was going to be at your place by seven, you believed him. He was a man of his word after all - or at least ninety nine percent of the time he was. He had told you this morning that he was heading outside of the walls after his shift at the "graveyard" (the nickname given to where the bodies of infected were burned), and he would be back just after sunset. You had protested to join him on his well-travelled route, but he had forbid you from going with him. Despite not going with him, he had promised to swing by your place once he was back and drop off any goods he may have scavenged while out.

You weren't sure why he wouldn't agree to let you come, it wasn't like he was your father, or brother, or boyfriend - you guys were friends. Sure, the two of you had hooked up every so often, but that gives him no right to make decisions for you, about what you can do or where you can go. It's the zombie apocalypse for Christ sake, you can do what you want when you want.

You had been up for an extra few hours, it was way past the time you would usually be asleep. You were waiting for that knock on the door, you were waiting for the bickers on why you were awake and waiting for his return, you were waiting for Joel. In all honesty, you weren't sure why you were up. Maybe it was the thought in the back of your head that he was dead, or stranded alone somewhere far outside of the walls.

You had to shake those gruesome thoughts out of your head as you were forced up and toward your window, having to close it due to the newly started rain. As soon as the window was shut, the sounds of pitter-patter were echoed through your entire apartment, the only thing it did was put you on edge. He was probably at home, you thought to yourself, thinking it was too late to bother you and that he would see you first thing tomorrow. You could only hope for that.

You had decided it would be best to go and sit down on your sofa, the one in front of the TV that hadn't worked for twenty something years. It wouldn't hurt you if you remained up for the next little bit, just in case. In case there would be a knock on your door, in case he showed up. You took a seat on the well weared in part of the sofa, kicking your shoes off and cuddling up to the blanket covering the arm. It wouldn't hurt you if you stayed up waiting with your eyes shut, would it?

It was a quarter to five when a few sets of knocks went off at your door. You had shot up from the light rest you had fallen into, mentally cursing yourself for not being able to stay up. Was it Joel? You really shouldn't be caring this much about him, or this situation. You were sure it wasn't anything serious, but this is what friends do for each other, right?

You had gotten up as quick as you could, tripping over your shoes and almost face planting on the ground. Without spending any time to worry about it, you moved over to the door. Whoever it was on the other side, Joel or not, mustn’t have heard you make your way over to the door since there was another set of desperate knocks. It felt like an eternity while you undid all four locks, before swinging it open.

Your eyes could only fall into the gaze of the grey ones in front of you. You weren't sure if he was crying, or if the paths under his eyes were extra watery from the torrential downpour happening outside (though, you wouldn't question him about it). Your eyes had scanned over his saddened face, to the puddle of water beneath his shoes. Your hand had automatically found its way to cup his cheek, your thumb running over his skin as gentle as possible, "Fuck, Joel."

You could feel him soften his muscles when you did this, despite his facial expression remaining neutral, "I gotta come in." He had mumbled, just loud enough for you to hear. You had immediately dropped your hand from his face, and moved out of the doorframe, allowing Joel to enter. It was only when the dull light from your candle lit lamp engulfed Joel that you could really see what had happened to him.

A black eye, a busted lip, small bruises littered around every masculine feature he had. You were going to kill whoever did this to him. "I got clothes that'll fit you, hold on." You had turned and shuffled your way into your room, digging through the drawers when you had reached them. You had a pair of black sweatpants that were too big on you, but would most likely fit Joel. Before leaving the room, you swiped a shirt that was laying in the pile of clean clothes off to the side.

You emerged not long after, seeing the barely-clothed man remove his last sock off his right foot. You two were past the point of being embarrassed in front of each other, you had learned to adapt due to the many years spent surviving together. As you walked past Joel, toward the kitchen, you shoved the clothes into his arms. You wanted to give him a little privacy, so he could hold onto his pride, if he managed to have any left.

Making your way into the kitchen, you immediately got out a mug from your tiny mug collection, and turned the gas-powered stove top on. Placing the mug beside the stove, you had brought over a little pot and dumped an entire bottle of water into it. It didn't take long for the water to boil, so once it was done, you immediately put it in the mug labeled "World's Best Boss" and started to scavenge. You hadn't opened the box of tea you were looking for, you wanted to save it for a special occasion. Tonight was special enough, right?

You had found it after a moment of searching, taking a packet out of the box and moving back over to the living room. Your eyes fell on the emptiness of the sofa, the man nowhere to be found. He couldn't have left, you didn't hear the door open or close. Just before you were going to call out for him, he walked out of the darkness (his limp more noticeable than before). "Put the clothes'n y'ur bath tub, didn't want the floor all wet for ya' to clean." His voice was hoarse.

You shot him an almost unapologetic look as you placed the mug down, dropping the tea bag inside. "Stop worryin' 'bout that, now sit down and let me help." For once in his life, Joel Miller kept quiet and did what you told him. You had wished it would be under different circumstances, but a win is a win. "Now," You began, "I know you like coffee, but this was all I could find."

It had to taken Joel a moment before he realized that there was a warm drink waiting for him, his nose too stuffed to have taken in the scent. It had been a while since Joel had something warm to drink, a while since someone's cared enough about him to make him something like that. Even though he despised any sort of drink other than coffee (and water, of course), he would not complain about this. Not now, not ever. He reached forward for the mug, carefully bringing it back to his lap. "Best boss, hm?"

You could only giggle as you were now opposite of Joel, instead of being on the couch, you had pushed it away and were digging on the floor. Months ago, you had figured out there were two layers of wood that divided you and the person who occupied the apartment below you. That space served as a cubby, so you figured why not use it for its purpose? "You're gonna be jumpin' with joy, Joel Miller." He looked puzzled, trying his best to ignore the immense pounding that came from everywhere in his body. That's when he caught glimpse of what you were holding, headache medicine.

Sure, headache medicine was some measly little thing that probably didn't work as well as it used to anymore, not many people would bat an eye at it before the apocalypse. But now, it was gold. People were sentenced to the firing squad if any guard in the QZ found out about medicine that wasn't recorded, since it was so scarce. "Why the fuck do you have that?" Was all Joel could say, forgetting about himself for a moment, and worrying about you. That's what friends do, right?

"For emergencies like this." You had gotten up from the floor, kicking the wooden plank back into its home before moving over to Joel. You had opened the cap, taking out four. Four would send you into the doctors office if you took them before they expired, but since they expired twenty years ago, they only worked half (if you were lucky) of what they usually would. You had reached out for Joel's hand and placed the pills in there, "Drink tea with'em to help them go down easier."

He listened to you, silent for a moment. After he had swallowed the mouthful (literally) of pills, he broke silence. "I don't want you runnin' 'round'n gettin' shit like that." He was referring to the pills, "You know what happens if ya' get caught." How could even talk this much with a busted lip, you thought to yourself. You repeated the 'if ya' get caught' part to him as you slipped away once more into the kitchen.

Joel called your name out a few times as you left, leaning farther back into the couch each time. By you talking to him, he was distracted. Distracted from the crushing headache, the horrible tension that rose to his lips every time words were escaping from his mouth, the pain throughout his body. He would tell you what happened, when you came back, but only if you asked.

You returned with a small bowl and a rag, something to clean up his face (and anywhere under the clothes he may want cleaned). You sat down beside Joel, on the sofa, "Lay down." He looked confused, not really understanding what you had meant. Not wanting to waste anymore time with those open wounds leaking every so often, you grabbed his shoulders and forcefully (yet carefully) brought him down so his head was rested in your lap.

You could tell that it hurt Joel when you did that by the small grunts he had managed to let escape his lips. You didn't mean to hurt him, not at all, but you couldn't deal with any bickering if he decided to start now. "So, Mister Miller," You began, dipping the rag into the bowl, "How did you get your shit rocked so badly?"

He wasn't impressed by the way you put it, shooting you a quick glare, "Runners." Was all he said. Runners? How could runners do this to him? A million thoughts ran through your head, but you quickly cut yourself short. "Are you-" Joel knew what you were asking, was he bit? "No." He responded, a bit too quick, before continuing his short, yet descriptive, story, "Was with a few people ya'dunno, came across Runners out in a building, they all turned on me'n tried to get out." He paused for a moment, "Four'o them plus two runners on me, would've killed 'em myself if the runners didn't get 'em first."

You could tell Joel was hesitant to tell you, thinking you would see him as weak. No, far from that actually. You could only think highly of the man laying in your lap, for he's how you were thriving in this apocalypse. You brought the dampened rag to the gash on his cheek, he jumped as it was alcohol, and not water, "Don't beat yourself up too much for it," Joel flinched at the stinging sensation, "Your secret's safe with me."

Joel had crossed his arms, his hands brushing past your thighs. You felt as if they lingered too long, maybe it wasn't a passing matter. He's comfortable with you, you know that. This is what friends do, right? You had assessed the other wounds on his face, almost all disinfected completely. The bowl of alcohol now having a slight red tone to it.

After a moment, Joel broke the comfortable silence the two of you were in, "I shouldn't have came. Wastin' all y'ur supplies'n all." This didn't impress you, so Joel had earned a slight slap on his shoulder. "Just let me take care of you, god dammit. How many times have you done it for me?" He was silent after that, knowing. Countless times, after roudy street fights for ration cards, Joel had cleaned you up. Cleaned the blood from your face and stitched the deep gashes that would appear. You were only returning the favour, because that's what friends do.

"Plus," You added now, "we can just scavenge more stuff the next time we take a vacation from this place." If you taking out medicine for him didn't piss him off, this sure as hell did. Without thinking, he reached forward and grabbed your wrist, the wrist that was cleaning up his purpled lip. "Ya' ain't goin' out there, not now, not ever." You had shooed his hand off from you, brushing the comment off, "Can't protect me forever, boss. What's a little fun anyway?" You shouldn't have had the playful grin on your face, but you couldn't help yourself.

Joel could only give you an unhappy look, knowing that you couldn't be stopped with it, as much as he might've tried. He wasn't in the mood to fight you, he wasn't ever really in the mood to fight you. Joel had sat up without a warning, almost causing whatever was left in the bowl to go flying. This earned a whack from you.

"Uhm, ow." He muttered, maybe you shouldn't have done that, added to his pain and all. "Gotta get goin', though." He didn't want to say that, you could tell. It was the tone that he said it in. You could only meet his gaze for a moment, "Stay the night." When someone was hurting like this, how could you say no. How could you turn your best friend away, and let him go home, when he wasn't okay?

You weren't expecting Joel to agree to stay, or at least not cave in without any convincing. It was strange, really, he was acting different. It had to have been the drugs that you had given him, you thought to yourself, maybe it had something that made you nicer to the people you're close with.

You had helped the man up, and left the dirty rag on the table. That was tomorrow (well, when you woke up)'s problem. You took his arm and wrapped it around your shoulders, helping him walk better. You would mother him about his limp and legs when he was recovered. Joel was holding onto you as he moved in sync with you to your room.

Once you got there, you had let go of him. He looked at you for a moment, before turning away. "Can ya', uh, help with my shirt?" He asked. You could only nod your head, maybe a bit too quick for your liking. "Yeah, o'course." Then, following what you just agreed to do, you grabbed the hems of the shirt Joel was wearing and helped to slide it off of him. This is what friends do, right?

You tried your best not to stare, you really did, but the marks on his chest pulled you in. After taking a moment longer to let your eyes linger, you pulled away and helped him under the comforter. "I'll take care'o those tomorrow." You had turned to make your way the door, to sleep on the couch, to give Joel as much space as he could. He grabbed your wrist, though, before you were able to get too far from him. "Can you, er, stay?"

Joel wasn't looking at you when he asked that, he was looking anywhere but. You wanted to stay, really did you, but you felt like you couldn't. "Listen, Joel, I want to, bu-" You were cut off by him interrupting you, "Please." Please. Joel Miller doesn't say please. This took you almost by shock, but you tried not to show it. You only nodded your head, and moved over to the other side of the bed.

You could feel Joel watching your every move, but you didn't care at this moment. You removed your pants, but kept your shirt undergarments on. You would call today a day of victories, not for Joel, but for you. He had listened to you so much, and didn't fight it. You wish it was under different circumstances, but a win is a win. You knew he wasn't up to his usual par, but it still counted.

It happened with a blink of an eye. First you were hesitant to get into the bed with him, not wanting any mixed signals to be sent at the current moment, next you were laying right beside him, and his current good arm wrapped around your waist. If Joel was happy, you were happy. The sounds of rain made it better, made it more peaceful for Joel. He could relax, and take his mind off of the pain he was feeling. This is what friends do for each other.

—

flawless, the neighbourhood

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wileys-russo · 2 months

Note

Alanna kennedy "did you just call her babe?" Café

secrets out II a.kennedy

you woke to the sound of your alarm, blinking tiredly and reaching out blindly for your phone. smacking around on the nightstand for a moment you eventually found it, tapping stop and exhaling deeply.

you draped an arm over your face with a wince as there was a gust of wind through the open window causing the blinds to swing and a ray of sunshine to hit you right in the face.

blinking a few more times and rubbing at your eyes you let out a large yawn as the body in bed beside you shifted, a long tanned and tattooed arm stretching over your stomach where your shirt had ridden up.

you glanced beside you with a smile seeing the blondes eyes closed as her nose twitched every now and then, lips parted ever so slightly as she breathed steadily in and out, not even stirring at the sound of the alarm to your amusement.

pushing the duvet off you a little with a stretch your fingers absentmindedly traced the little pieces of art sporadically scattered across the defenders arm. you could tell she had started to awaken as her grip tightened and you continued your tracing.

you knew she was properly awake as her arm accidentally moved upwards, her knuckles grazing your naked chest as you shook your head.

"good morning alanna." you spoke with a knowing smile as the taller girl rolled over a little more hiding her face in the pillow as you knew her own lips would be curled into a smile of their own.

"lani!" you laughed as her hand moved now definitely on purpose, slipping even further up your shirt and squeezing your left boob.

"mm i'm still sleeping, this is shaping up to a fantastic dream." the defender sighed rolling onto her side again and keeping her eyes closed but sure enough there was a smirk on her lips as she repeated her previous action and you pushed her away.

"very charming kennedy." you pushed at her shoulder as she cracked one eye open, arm wrapping around your waist again and pulling you into her, embracing you properly as your nose tucked into her collarbone and you placed a gentle kiss to the warm skin.

"good morning." the girl mumbled and you laughed as her hands moved again, this time to squeeze teasingly at your ass as you pushed away from her.

"you're insatiable its eight am." you tutted, sitting up and running a hand through your hair pushing it to one side of your head. "yeah and? perfect time for a morning quickie." the australian grinned now properly awake as she moved you on top of her.

"not when we've got plans at nine lans." you patted her chest with a condescending smile as her own grin was wiped off her face. "what! since when?" she propped herself up a little on her elbows with a frown.

"brunch and the sunday markets with the girls, and we need to drive separately so you have to take me home first." you reminded as the blonde let out a long and tired groan. "you did hear me say quickie right? emphasis on the quick." she tried again, tattooed hands sliding slowly up your thighs which straddled her hips.

"mm nothing quick about anything with you lani, your pace is terrible on and off the pitch." you smiled teasingly, grabbing her hands right before they could dip beneath the waistband of your underwear and pushing them away.

"excuse me!" the australian scoffed in offence and before you could blink she'd effortlessly flipped you so you were now pinned beneath her. "what i might lack in pace i make up for both in strength and stamina, you'd know that better than anyone babe." the blonde grinned wolfishly as her lips ghosted yours and you shook your head.

"i told ras to pick me up for breakfast, she'll be at mine in half an hour." your hand pressed against her chest as she chased your lips for a kiss, apologetic smile on your face as the blonde flopped down on top of you, face buried in your shoulder with a groan.

"well why would you do that!" she huffed rolling off of you and sitting back up with an annoyed glare. "because my post game plans didn't include waking up not in my own bed and we organised breakfast on friday!" you laughed in defence as alanna let out one final long and loud groan, throwing off the duvet and slipping out of bed.

"you and your little social battery are killing my sex life i hope you know that." alanna sighed dramatically with a shake of her head and a stretch. "oh sorry was the six orgasms last night not enough for you kennedy?" you raised your eyebrow in challenge as she padded back over toward you.

"only two of those were mine, pillow princess." the defender smirked teasingly, leaning over you to grab her phone and stealing a kiss as she did. "pillow princess!" you scoffed in disbelief as the australian shrugged.

'hey, i didn't say i was complaining about it babe."

"whats that on your neck?" hayley frowned as you slid into her car, trying not to let the shock register on your face and silently cursing a certain blonde defender you'd just kissed goodbye about ten minutes earlier.

"nothing, just a birth mark." you flipped your hair to the side she was inspecting as the older girl hummed, slight smile on her lips as she decided not to push too much and changing subjects as she pulled out of your driveway.

"of course she's late." alex sighed with a shake of your head as you, hayley, esme, chloe and ellie sat around waiting for alanna who was yet to arrive.

"i'll go order, no help all of us being grumpy and caffeine deprived." you smiled, the coffee dates all too regular among your group of friends as you knew their orders mostly off by heart.

"how is it you can't remember your shorts but you remember the entire teams coffee order?" ellie teased as you stood, shoving her head to the side as you passed her and headed for the counter.

the shorts issue in question was once again alanna's fault. waking up after one one of the first times you'd fallen into bed with her you both realised you'd overslept and were running late, hurrying to get dressed and look half presentable as you zipped off to training, separately of course as nobody but the two of you were aware of your arrangement.

not having planned anything out you had to steal clothes off the blonde aussie which given your glaring height difference was easier said than done, alanna's kit shorts more like jorts on you you'd had to abandon any at all and go with a pair of bike shorts instead.

whatever that arrangement was though both of you seemed to be too scared to ask. some days it was merely a text at three in the morning, manchester blurring past as one of you zoomed over to the other and you'd spend the night together but gone again by the time the sun rose.

other days you'd spend nearly every waking hour messaging back and forth, sneaking off for dinners together or catching a movie after training, dismissing invitations to hang out with your friends with half assed excuses.

"well well well, look who finally decided to show up!" chloe started a slow clap as alanna arrived, rolling her eyes and bowing sarcastically. you gestured to her coffee which sat beside yours as she took the empty seat on your left, smiling gratefully.

"thanks babe." she subtly squeezed your knee under the table but the nickname was not as easy to hide. "did she just call you babe?" ellie was right onto it with a raised eyebrow as alanna paused mid sip, eyes darting to yours apologetically at the slip up.

"yeah, so? she's an aussie they're far too friendly!" you joked to try and cover up but it didn't seem you were going to get off that easily. "mmm but i don't call you babe? am i not aussie enough for you?" hayley smiled smugly as alanna glared at her from the corner of her eye.

"you can call me babe if you like ras, didn't know you'd be so hurt!" you quipped back teasingly as alanna's hand again squeezed your knee but you knew this meant something different all together.

"right. so the matching hickies is just another friendly aussie tradition we've missed out on then?" alex smirked at you from the other end of the table as you winced.

"and the sharing clothes? lani i too would love to have a browse through your wardrobe if you're in such a generous giving mood." esme grinned tugging on the string of the hoodie you wore beneath your puffer vest which was in fact not yours.

"AK...hm those don't seem like your initials now do they?" ellie flipped your wrist over and traced the letters embroidered on the sleeve as alanna let out a deep sigh from beside you, both of you well and truly caught out.

"you will need to save all your questions for the incoming press conference after we've had a coffee and some food!" the australian warned sternly, but her arm wrapped around your shoulders protectively pulling you a little closer as whistles sounded around the table and your face blushed bright red.

"see i told you they were together, you owe me fifty bucks greenwood pay up!"

#woso #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso community #woso imagine #alanna kennedy x reader #alanna kennedy #woso blurbs

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roosterforme · 2 months

Text

Always Ever Only You Part 31 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley didn't like the fact that you'd soon be leaving him for a work trip to Annapolis. Being apart was hard enough before, but he knew it would be worse now. His thoughts start to manifest, and he wonders if he'll ever be enough of what you and the baby need.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, pregnancy topics, angst, fluff

Length: 4900 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order. Always Ever Only You masterlist. Gorgeous banner by @mak-32

Bradley sat on the living room couch in his boxer briefs with a plate full of peanut butter crackers and a glass of ice water. He'd been doing his due diligence by making sure you ate several small meals throughout the day and fucking you as soon as your eyes welled with tears when you reached for him. He could tell now when you were about to throw up just as easily as he could tell when you needed to get off. It was amazing how unprepared he was for dealing with all of this, but none of it was putting a damper on the constant excitement he felt.

"Okay. Next slide," you said as you hit the spacebar on your laptop which was open on the coffee table displaying information he could barely understand. He held up the plate and let you eat a cracker before handing you the glass of water so you could take a sip. Then you handed it back to him and took a deep breath before diving into the information on the new slide.

You'd been at it for hours, trying to get your parts down perfectly so you could spend the upcoming week rehearsing the presentation with Cat before you left for Annapolis. Bradley came back from playing golf on Sunday, and you and he had a quickie in the laundry room literally while you helped him out of his sweaty clothes. Afterwards, when he tried to get in the shower, you guided him to the couch instead as you said, "Don't shower yet. You smell so good, it'll motivate me to practice my slides."

And that's how he ended up where he was. "You're doing great, Baby Girl," he whispered whenever you paused to eat some of your snacks. "I'm so fucking proud of you."

Bradley marveled, not for the first time, over the fact that you married him. You were the smartest and most capable person he'd ever met, explaining things in such detail that only the most intelligent people in the Navy could possibly comprehend you. All while also wearing his rings and carrying his baby.

He sat as patiently as he could while you meticulously finished your presentation, but as soon as you went over the final slide and closed your laptop, he was up off the couch. And this time he was the one ready to start whining for you. "Can we go to the bedroom?" he asked as you looked at the notes in your binder and put them in a different order.

"Hmm," you hummed, shifting a few more sheets around. "In a minute," you mumbled, but when you bumped into him, you smiled. "You're hard, Bradley."

"Baby Girl," he moaned as you rubbed yourself against him. "Your presentation was way too sexy. Let's go get in bed."

You were laughing. "If you thought it was sexy now, just wait until the admirals get to see me do it in uniform."

"I'm already jealous," he whispered, coaxing you along with his fingers at your back. When he wrapped his hands around to the front of your body, he said, "I can't wait until you have a baby bump."

"I can," you told him softly as you climbed into bed and looked up at him where he stood. "What if I look hideous?"

"You couldn't." His response came quickly, because he didn't have to think about it at all. "You won't. You'll still be perfect."

He ran his fingers along the necklace he'd given you and played with the charms as you asked, "Even when I'm huge and miserable and nine months pregnant? And when I'm all lumpy looking after the baby is born?"

Bradley leaned down and kissed you softly. "You threw up on me yesterday after you burst into tears and yelled at me for leaving Tramp's leash on the porch, and I still wanted to make love to you. I don't think you have anything to worry about."

You groaned and then started laughing and curled up into a ball on your side. "I'm sorry I'm such a mess right now."

"Don't apologize. I know you didn't mean any of it," he replied with a chuckle as he slid into bed behind you and pulled the covers over both of you. "And I'm ready for you to have a belly, because you'll look adorable. And it also means we'll be closer to meeting the chicken nugget for real. The ultrasound pictures are cute and all, but I can't wait to see the little nugget in March."

"You just like calling it that, because it's a Rooster joke," you said as he wrapped his arms around you and kissed your neck. "I'm surprised you're not trying to design a chicken themed nursery."

"Hey," he grunted next to your ear as he worked your yoga pants and your underwear down over your butt. "You promised me we could do airplanes for the nursery," he reminded you, guiding his fingers over your thigh to your tattoo. He traced it from memory as you sighed softly before he felt you spread your legs wider for him. Bradley smiled as he ran one fingertip down your slit, discovering that you were already wet for him. "Baby number two can have a chicken themed nursery."

You moaned his name as he slipped one finger inside you, but he didn't hear you argue about his fantastic idea.

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

You were completely scatterbrained at work all week, and you could tell you were making Cat nervous. You'd probably be making Bickel nervous too, but he had so much faith in you, he was completely at ease. The fact that he was sending the two of you to Annapolis for the week on your own was a testament to that fact.

"You'll do great, Lieutenant Commander," he said when you were in his office to give him a final copy of the powerpoint presentation. "Pretty soon you won't even need me around since you could run the lab yourself. Just bring back all of that funding so we can keep the pilots up in the air for as long as possible."

"Yes, sir," you told him with a smile as he tapped through your slides. He made a few comments, and you took notes, but his trust in you and the Top Gun program always made you feel confident.

"This looks great. Call me during the week after you give your presentations."

"We will," you promised, and when he dismissed you, Cat was on you as soon as you were back in the lab.

"What did he think?" she asked, tapping her fingers on the counter. "Did he hate it? Do we have to redo it? You've been so weird all week that it's making me feel weird too!"

You laughed, because for the first time in weeks, you were feeling slightly normal. "He said it's great. We're ready to go."

"Oh," she replied, her fingers relaxing immediately. "I just really want to get a promotion," she whispered. "I really need a pay raise."

"I know," you reassured her. "We'll be fine. I know all of the slides by heart. Bradley has been spending hours practicing them with me."

Cat snorted. "Yeah, something tells me that's a bit of a stretch."

"What do you mean?"

"I've seen you and Bradley in the cafeteria all week," she replied, giving you a knowing look. "Five minutes around him and the two of you go sneaking off. But I guess if I had unlimited access to Jake like that, I would also be 'practicing for hours'."

You knew discretion wasn't your strong suit when it came to your husband, but Cat wasn't going to even humor you trying to deny it. "I've been trying to get as much of him as I can now since I'll have to go days without."

She nodded and said, "We'll have fun though. Maybe we can go out one night for drinks."

The last thing you wanted to do was make her feel like you didn't want to spend time with her in Annapolis. "That would be really fun," you replied with a tight smile. You'd figure it out. Just like you'd figure out how you were going to deal with your parents when you saw them for dinner while you could barely eat.

When you got home from work on Friday, you parked the red Bronco in the empty driveway and let Tramp outside. You were already packing for the trip when Bradley got home. He came into the bedroom and just looked you up and down with his hands on his hips.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" you asked as you stacked up your underwear and some of his shirts that you'd use as pajamas on top of your uniforms on the bed.

"Well I got used to you practically ripping my clothes off as soon as you see me. I half expected you to be waiting on the porch with your panties in your hand."

You laughed. "I'm sorry. Do you want to go back outside and I'll meet you on the porch?"

"Yeah, kinda," he replied, still staring at you with hands planted on his narrow hips. You could feel your saliva pool on your tongue as he smiled, his mustache twitching to one side. "I was just getting used to your pregnancy hormones."

You had to swallow hard as he shifted his weight and dropped his arms to his sides, but the flex of his biceps got you, because you could see his tattoo. He was several feet away, but you swore you could smell him. Your body clenched with need as he ran one hand through his hair, and your voice came out as a needy moan when you said, "You look good, Roo."

When he met your eyes, you could see that your words had some color rising in his cheeks. His lips parted softly, but you were in his arms before he even got a word out. "So the hormones are still in full effect?" he grunted.

"Oh yeah," you whispered, threading your fingers through his hair. "Or maybe it's just how I always am with you."

You were kissing along his neck, inhaling his incredible scent as he rasped, "Sweetheart, I'm going to miss you and the nugget so much next week."

After that, your bedroom was a mess of articles of khaki clothing flying in every direction. Bradley barely got your underwear down your thighs before you were begging for him, and he fucked you while he was still in his boots and uniform pants. Bent over the side of the bed with your face pressed to the bedding next to your travel toiletries bag, you'd never felt as adored in your life. His hands were soft on your hips, and his mouth was feather light as he kissed your spine and between your shoulder blades.

"I love you so much, Sweetheart," he crooned, bringing you closer with each deep thrust. Then his hand was soft on your belly as he whispered, "Love you," over and over again until you came.

You were still bent over the bed a few minutes later with Bradley still inside you while he ran his fingers up and down your arms and kissed your right shoulder. "I think perhaps I should pack a vibrator or two for my trip?"

"I think that would be wise," he replied with a soft chuckle. "Let's get you packed, and then we can take a bath and eat whatever you and the baby want for dinner."

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

Bradley opened his Amazon package on Sunday morning while you sat on the bathroom floor in front of the toilet. Your flight was in a few hours, and he had no idea how you were going to make it to Maryland in your current state. He was unboxing everything he could find that was supposed to help with morning sickness so you could take it with you.

"Just go play golf, Roo," you moaned through the open door. "I can get Cam or Maria to take me to the airport after brunch."

He sighed as he dropped a pack of lollipops on the bed. He had already invited himself to brunch with your friends. While he made the occasional cameo, he was by no means a regular when it came to you eating that avocado toast, but he wanted to spend as much time with you as possible today.

"I'll be the one taking you to the airport, Baby Girl," he replied as he walked into the bathroom and knelt behind you. "I want to be around you this morning."

You looked at him over your shoulder with watery eyes as you wiped your mouth with toilet paper. "You want to be around this?" Your voice was sarcastic and raw, and he smiled immediately.

"Always." He kissed your forehead and said, "I'm adding the packs of peanut butter crackers to your suitcase along with the candy I bought. And I got you a pregnancy pillow to help you sleep once you have a belly."

You moaned and said, "I was just going to make you be my pregnancy pillow."

He rubbed your back while you threw up and said, "Well now you have two."

After Bradley loaded your suitcase and gigantic plastic tub of stuff for your presentation into the red Bronco, he helped you finish getting dressed. "There's literally nothing in my stomach now," you told him while you sucked on a ginger candy.

"Yeah, and that's not a good thing. Are you going to try to eat your gross breakfast?"

"I'm so hungry," you whimpered. "If we don't leave soon, Cam will order my meal for me and start eating it if I'm not there."

Bradley snorted as the two of you walked outside when you were done saying goodbye to Tramp. He steered you to the passenger side door and buckled you into the new Bronco. "I haven't driven her since we brought her home," he said wistfully, running his hand along your thigh and enjoying the new car smell. You looked really tired, and the last thing he wanted to do was send you off to Maryland, but you seemed excited about giving the presentation and seeing your parents. "I might drive it while you're gone so she and I can miss you together."

You gave him a watery smile. "I don't even want to leave you."

"You'll be fine," he told you with a kiss. "You've got your vibrators."

The way you rolled your eyes made him laugh as he walked around to the driver's side door. When he cranked the engine to life and backed out of the driveway, you gasped. "Have I been that horrible to you?"

Bradley took your hand when you reached for him as he drove down the block. "What are you talking about?"

You burst into tears. "I haven't been appreciating you enough. You think I'm just going to miss your cock."

He was trying so hard not to laugh as he turned left, really enjoying the feel of the second Bronco. "Sweetheart, I don't think that at all. You're doing all the hard work right now, not me. And my cock is yours for the taking."

But you just cried softly as you said, "I'll be better when I get back. I promise. And I'll miss all of you. Every little bit."

Bradley was still wiping away your tears as you wrapped your arms around him when you got to the restaurant. Your emotions were absolutely all over the place right now, and he knew better than to take any of it personally at this point. When the hostess told him that the rest of his party was already here, Bradley was surprised to look up and see Bob at the table with Maria and Cam.

"Oh," you gasped as you and he headed in their direction. "Oh my god, I fucking knew it."

Maria hopped out of her seat to give you a hug, and she seemed a little nervous as she said, "I hope you don't mind that I invited Bob to come too since you said Bradley was coming."

"We don't mind," you told her immediately, and Bradley gave Bob a fist bump while the other man blushed. "It's always nice to see Bob," you said as you bent to kiss his cheek, and his blush grew deeper.

Then you sank down into the seat between Bradley and Bob as Cam said, "I feel like I just crashed a double date. I didn't know it was 'bring your own aviator to brunch day''."

"I'm sorry," Bradley replied as Cam bit into a piece of cinnamon toast a little aggressively. "I only came so I could take this one directly to the airport afterwards."

"I think that's sweet," Maria said with a smile as she so obviously tried not to look at Bob. Bradley also noted that neither of them denied the words double date. "Mimosas for everyone?"

You hummed quietly while Bradley started to panic, but you smoothly said, "None for me," while you looked at the menu as if you were going to order something other than avocado toast. "The time zone switch is already going to mess me up enough later."

Bradley drank a mimosa with his stack of five pancakes to seem as inconspicuous as possible, and the conversation was pretty good once Cam calmed down about being aviator-less for the day, but soon it was time to get you out of there. And not just because it was getting late.

"You okay?" Bradley asked on the walk back to the Bronco as you grabbed his hand.

"I don't know," you mumbled, wrapping your free arm around your stomach. "I miss being able to eat. But I don't really have time to get sick again right now."

"Come on," Bradley coaxed, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. "I outfitted the glovebox with some plastic bags just in case, but now I'm fucking worried about you being in Maryland without me."

You cried softly the whole way to the airport, but you tried to tell him you'd be okay. If you felt like this after every meal, you wouldn't be able to function until Friday night without him looking after you. It wasn't fair. He was already feeling pretty useless, but this just made him feel bad. Maybe he could figure out how to use his time wisely this week to help get things ready for the baby.

As he parked at the curb in front of the airline departures door, Bradley realized Jake's car was in front of him. Cat was hugging Jeremiah while Jake unloaded her luggage, and Bradley leaned down toward your belly without delay. "Gotta make this quick, little nugget," he said, kissing you through your shirt. "Be good for Mommy, okay? I love you, and we'll talk again on Friday when you get home."

You ran your fingers through his hair, and Bradley wanted nothing more than to curl up on your lap with your attention on him for the rest of the afternoon, but that wasn't an option. Instead he kissed your cheek and whispered, "I'll get your stuff from the back."

But even stepping away from you for a minute while you cuddled Jeremiah so Cat and Jake could have a minute to themselves was a lot for him, and seeing you with a child in your arms now was making him feel very protective. Jeremiah smashed his little palms against your face, and you laughed and carried him closer to Bradley. "I think he wants to say hi to you, Roo," you whispered while Bradley ran his thumb along the child's soft cheek.

His body buzzed with excitement as he glanced down at your belly. "This is what I'm really excited for," he told you, and your eyes were so soft as you looked up at him. "The three of us are going to be amazing." He kissed your cheek. "Now hand Jeremiah back over so I can give you a proper goodbye."

Bradley gave Cat a little wave as Jeremiah climbed back into her arms, and he watched as you gave Jake a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. He whispered something in your ear, and you laughed, and Bradley honestly got a little jealous that the seconds were ticking away before you and the baby would be leaving him alone. Jake could just take a backseat right now.

When you caught his eye, Bradley knew he must have looked annoyed, but it was just like when you and he left for your honeymoon all over again. "Baby Girl." His voice sounded a little stern, and you responded to his call like he was your magnetic north, practically flying back into his arms.

Face tipped up to look at him, you said, "I'll miss you," but he didn't let you say anything else. His lips collided with yours as he held you close, hands drifting lower on your back until he was stroking the sides of your belly with his thumbs.

He wanted to keep you at home and give you anything you needed as he tasted your tongue and your teeth. You moaned softly into his mouth and broke the kiss. Bradley cupped your perfect cheek in one hand and let his forehead come to rest against yours. "Promise me you'll try to eat little meals all day."

"I promise," you whispered breathlessly.

He nodded so that his nose bumped the side of yours. "I packed you peanut butter crackers and ginger candies and ginger tea bags and lollipops. Just try to take it easy, okay?"

"I will, Roo."

He closed his eyes and squeezed you a little tighter. "I really don't want the two of you to leave." Tears stung his eyes as he held onto you, and your fingers on his neck and in his hair calmed him down a little bit.

"I'll text you nonstop, okay?" you whispered. "I'll let you know what's going on and how I'm feeling, and then we can talk each day when you leave work."

He nodded. "Just please, take care of yourself. I love you so much."

"I love you, Daddy."

He grunted but reluctantly released you, and you stroked your fingers along his cheek. Then you turned toward your luggage and the plastic bin while Jake held Jeremiah who was now in tears as Cat started to walk away. And when you reached for that heavy bin, Bradley almost shouted.

"Sweetheart," he said as calmly as he could, reaching out to cover your hand with his. "It's heavy."

"I'll take one side," Cat said casually, and you looked up at Bradley with a little smile.

"I can manage it with Cat," you promised, pecking him on the lips one last time before you lifted one end of the bin. Bradley watched nervously as you and she maneuvered through the door, listening to your voice as you told him you loved him and would miss him.

"Damn it," he grunted, leaning back against the Bronco once you were out of sight.

"Angel will be back on Friday. Chill," Jake drawled next to him. "I've never seen someone so pussy whipped in my life, old man."

Bradley glared in response before he spoke. "You're literally holding your girlfriend's son. You wanna rethink that last part?"

Jake chuckled and kissed Jeremiah's forehead. "I never said I wasn't bad, I'm just saying that you are absolutely the worst. You'll be pouty all week at work while she's gone, and you'll eat cereal for dinner every night."

"No, I won't," Bradley pouted. "Are you taking care of Jeremiah all week?" he asked, trying to change the subject, but Jake's answer surprised him a bit.

"I'm sharing Jer duties with Uncle Hondo," he replied easily. "Gotta make this whole thing work out if I want to take things to the next level."

"Next level?"

Jake smirked and started walking back to his car. "You're not the only one who can mate for life, Rooster."

Bradley stood there for another beat while Jeremiah got buckled into his car seat. That's what he did alright; he mated for life, and now it hurt when you weren't with him. His deployments sucked, and this week was going to suck, too. But he didn't want to eat cereal and pout nonstop if he could help it.

"You wanna come by one night? We can lift and take turns playing with Jeremiah and get a pizza or something?"

Jake studied his face and nodded. "Yeah. Thursday?"

"Sure," Bradley replied before climbing back into what was really your Bronco and starting the engine. Now he just had to keep himself entertained until Thursday evening. He turned on one of your playlists and drove home to Tramp and an otherwise empty house.

"Take a walk?" he asked, reaching for the leash, and the dog went ballistic as he jumped up and down in front of the door. "Relax. You can't be like this when the baby gets here. You'll need to be well behaved all the time." Tramp slammed his rear end down on the welcome mat like he knew what he needed to do already. "That's better," Bradley told him as he clipped the leash onto his yellow collar and took him around the block and down to the beach.

These walks were decidedly a lot more fun when you were here laughing and talking nonstop and dancing ahead of Bradley on the sidewalk. And now he was thinking about you pushing a stroller next to him while he had Tramp on the leash. Bradley stumbled as he imagined a baby with the cutest face looking up at him while you smiled and talked about the future.

The reality that this exact scenario could be happening come springtime hit him in the chest and took his breath away. "Let's go," he told Tramp as his excitement mixed with the anxiety he felt nearly all the time now. Because one thing was absolutely certain: Bradley didn't know how to be a dad. You told him it would come naturally. You promised him you weren't lying about that. But if he could just remember a little bit about what it felt like to be a kid with two parents, he figured this feeling would go away. All the excitement in the world wasn't going to prepare him for what came next, and he didn't want to disappoint you or himself.

It wasn't even dark out when he got back, but he did come up with two projects that would hopefully keep him busy for the evening while he tracked your flight to Annapolis. He didn't like thinking about his shortcomings, especially when you weren't home. He changed into some gym shorts and went upstairs into the rarely visited attic space and started looking around. Then he took some photos and some measurements, and then he started to rip up the ugly flooring while imagining how nice it could be as a bedroom for his kid. Or maybe your parents could stay up here when they visited. Maybe it was big enough to be two rooms.

When his phone vibrated in his pocket, he took it out immediately to see that you had texted him.

Baby Girl Bradshaw: We landed. It's so late here, and I threw up in the bathroom near baggage claim, and I'm starving, and I'm horny, and I miss you.

He was fumbling with his phone, about to call you or text you back and remind you not to try to carry that heavy bin, but then you sent him a photo. He laughed as he looked at the bin stacked up along with your suitcase and Cat's luggage on a trolley.

"That's my girl," he muttered, leaving the attic partially torn apart and heading downstairs as he wrote back to you. If you would just take care of yourself all week and come back home to him as soon as possible, he was sure he could figure out what he needed to do. Everything was easier and made more sense when you were together.

He made a bowl of cereal, annoyed that Jake had been right about that much, and he told you to call him once you were settled in your hotel room. Then he took out the pink and blue striped notebook that came with the Amazon shipment and flipped through the blank pages. He found one of your fancy markers in your nightstand, underneath some of the handwritten notes he'd given you and the album of wedding photos.

Bradley sat down on your side of the bed and wrote Baby Bradshaw on the cover of the notebook before tossing the marker back in the drawer. He lounged back on your pillow and thought about what he wanted to write before picking up a pen and getting started.

I guess I should start at the beginning. Hi, I'm your dad. I only just found out about you pretty recently, but I'm already excited to meet you. And it's kind of weird that right now, I hardly know anything about you, but by the time you're reading this for yourself, I hope I'll know a lot. I already love you.

When his phone rang with your specific ringtone, he answered right away, setting the notebook aside as soon as you said, "Hi, Roo."

"Hey, Sweetheart. Tell me about your flight."

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

He's going to be the best dad, and their child is going to be so loved. But those doubts are so real and can be scary. I hope BG makes it back unscathed. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 32

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dilemmaontwolegs · 3 months

Text

Not A Verstappen: Lights Out {5}

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: The most anticipated race of the year is here, and the most controversial, Las Vegas GP. Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, fluff, angst, injury WC: 3.5k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six

Round Twenty Two - Las Vegas

Kristian sat on a weight bench, flipping through the pages of the motherhood magazine he was reading. Every so often he would look up and give some guidance until the tips became a nuisance.

“I should have fired you,” you muttered as you rose up from the last lunge.

“You say that a lot but you should keep your back straight,” he shot back, grating you further with the slow scrape of the page turning. “And keep your feet in line with your hips.”

“Can we play some decent music at least?” you whined between the gulps of water you swallowed down. The training was far less intensive than they used to be with everything focused on just maintaining fitness and health rather than a goal weight or strength like before.

“Nope,” he chuckled, clearly enjoying being able to boss you around the gym again. “Baroque is good for the baby.”

“Bullshit.” There was no way the classical music meant anything to her, she was only the size of an avocado - or so Lando said. He had an app that he checked daily and uploaded photos onto as a keepsake.

Kristian turned back to the start of the magazine and turned it around, tapping the title of the article. “So you think you know more than Harvard scholars now, Spitfire?”

He took your silence for defeat and pointed to the pool door. “Twenty lap cool down and then it’s breakfast.”

Your stomach grumbled at the mention of food and you grabbed a towel as you passed the door to the changing room. Breakfast didn’t feel like the right term since it was well past lunchtime. The whole Las Vegas schedule had screwed your body clock with the late night practices and qualifying rounds but you were grateful it was the last night of it.

Lando and Charles had been fast asleep when you slipped out of the room. Something had disturbed you from the dream you were having and despite the room being pitch black with the thick blockout curtains your body could tell it was daytime. Thankfully Kristian was already awake and happy to move your fitness session up a few hours.

Cool water washed over you as you dove into the tepid pool and started to glide along the surface. One, two, three, breathe. One, two, three, breathe. The monotony was therapeutic and you didn’t even bother to keep count of the laps - your mind was elsewhere.

You had been dead on your feet in the wee hours of the morning after you finally left the track with Lando and Charles after qualifying finished. They still had adrenaline flooding their systems and had no hope of sleeping when they sunk into the couch cushions and pulled your exhausted body over their legs.

You were in a drowsy state, half asleep but half aware of the other two chatting quietly together. Their hands had softly caressed your skin, brushing your shirt up so they could feel the warmth of your abdomen beneath their palms.

“She’s so beautiful, Cha, and she’s carrying our kid. I don’t think I have ever been this happy in my life,” Lando hummed as he rested his head on Charles’ shoulder and smiled at their hands.

“We are very lucky to have her,” he agreed as he kissed Lando softly.

“So…” You tasted the mischief in Lando’s drawn out tone and it stirred some energy back into your body. “When can I start calling you daddy?”

Charles’ legs shifted beneath you with a groan and you willed your eyes to open as his cheeks flushed pink. “Mon cher...”

“You can call me papi chulo,” Lando smirked. “It means-”

“I know what it means,” Charles choked, knowing exactly who had taught him that too. “Carlos is a menace, but if anyone is going to be papi chulo it’s me.”

You nearly swallowed a mouthful of water as the memory of what had happened next led to a lapse in your count and you pulled yourself out of the pool with a splutter. Those two had a lot to answer for.

“Here,” Kristian said as he tossed a bottle of water to you. “Try not to drink from the pool.”

“What would I do without you?” you asked dryly.

“I don’t dare to think about that,” he joked before he said your favourite words. “Let’s go eat.”

You stared at the egg on your plate before pushing it away with disinterest. Charles looked up from his own plate and frowned at the rare sight of the food that remained on yours.

“Would you like something else, mamie?”

You smiled at the new endearment and watched Lando cut an avocado in half before passing one part over to you. The vibrant green flesh did look delicious but when you held it in your hand you could only think about the bump that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere. You hadn’t noticed it before changing into your swimsuit but when you peeled the tight layer off in the gym's changing room you had frozen. The mirrored wall caught your side profile under glaring fluorescent lights and there, just below your belly button it swelled ever so slightly.

A hand waved in front of your face and you broke away from the memory to see both your boyfriends watching you with worried frowns. One of them had obviously spoken to you but you couldn’t recall hearing them as you stared at the avocado.

“You’re crying,” Lando murmured as he swiped away the tear on your cheek. “What’s wrong?”

“She’s this big already. Our baby is the size of an avocado. She’s so tiny,” you said with a small laugh, raising the fruit higher for inspection. They looked at you like you were a little crazy and it wouldn’t have been the first time that was suspected but you pushed the chair out and placed the avocado back on the table. “Come, I want to show you something.”

You led them to the bedroom and Charles opened his mouth to break the bad news that they didn’t have time for even a quickie. The thought had crossed your mind when you found them still naked and splayed across the bed before breakfast was ready, but they needed to get to the track soon for media duties and to prepare for the race.

“That’s a shame but also not what I came here for,” you admitted as you started to remove your shirt.

“I’m getting mixed messages here,” Lando chuckled as he reached for his own shirt. “But I don’t mind being late.”

“Stop, before I really do make you stay,” you chuckled knowing they would do anything for you. You dropped your shirt and turned sideways while you stared at the reflection in the mirror. “Look…”

Their eyes followed the wave of your hand, the way your palm drifted over your hip to cradle the small bump, and Lando gasped along with Charles soft praise. Knees hit the soft carpet below your feet and warm lips replaced your hand, teasing your skin with kisses. Two heads of dark hair bowed against your stomach and whispered words of promise you couldn’t quite hear, but they weren’t for your ears. Finally they looked up, emerald and azure eyes filled with enough love that you were certain your chest was going to crack open.

You reached for their cheeks and felt the same dampness that coated yours. “She’s real,” you whispered. It had taken a few weeks but finally it all felt real. She wasn’t just a picture on a piece of paper or measurements of a hormone in a blood test. She was real, and she was yours.

“You look like a twat,” you greeted Max with a grin, flapping the collar of his race suit made to replicate Elvis Presley. “You’re just missing the blue suede shoes.”

Max rolled his eyes and ducked his head when you tried to mess his gelled hair up. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

“Oh I am,” you laughed, slipping back into Charles’ side. “I’m actually happy to sit out this circus act.”

Max narrowed his eyes as he scanned your face for a lie or bitterness but all he saw was a bright smile and genuine amusement sparkling in your eyes. A sense of relief washed over him as for the first time since losing your seat you looked completely content and happy.

“I don’t blame you,” he finally replied and looked down at the costume he had been given. He would be glad when all this was over too. “I’ll see you at Omnia?”

The sun had already set on the strip and the temperature was quickly dropping as the hour grew late, and closer to the start of the race. “Maybe, if it’s a boring race I might not even be awake to see the end of it.”

“Fair enough.” He hoped you would be there to celebrate whatever the results were but he knew you were more exhausted in your current state and wouldn’t hold it against you. Christian waved at Max from across the street that divided the hospitality area from the garages and he gave you a quick hug, clapping Charles in the shoulder as he passed. “The Ring Master calls.”

“Drive safe!” He threw a thumbs up over his shoulder in answer and you laced your fingers with Charles’ before continuing to the McLaren garage.

It was strangely quiet for a race that had been hyped up so much over the last year, but you were kind of relieved that there were less people to weave between. It was great that the sport was growing in popularity but it was a pain in the ass trying to get anywhere when you are squashed like sardines in the paddock.

Somehow you still managed to bump into someone.

“Shit, sorry, Logan.”

“That was my bad,” he apologised as he turned to face the direction he was walking, waving back to the fan who had stopped him. His eyes widened when he saw who he had collided with and regret painted on his face. “Shit, are you alright? I didn’t hurt you, did I, or the, um…” he waved a hand to your stomach and you tilted your head wondering who had told him.

“I’m fine, but you knew?”

Logan scratched the back of his neck nervously and shrugged. “The walls were thin in the medical centre.”

You were dumbfounded and the sound that bubbled from your chest confirmed it. “Huh.”

“I haven’t told anyone, and I won’t,” he promised before his name was called and he waved to his PT. “Oh, congratulations though, I probably should have started with that.”

Charles laughed and shook the American’s hand. “Thanks, mate.”

You smiled and accepted the half hug he offered, probably thinking a handshake would be even more awkward. “Thanks, and congrats on your first point too.”

“Not as exciting as a baby.”

“Yeah it is,” you laughed, remembering your first point for Alpha Tauri. “That’s your baby right now.”

His smile grew as he set off to his PT and you carried on your way to see Lando before the race. There was still over an hour until lights out but every minute had been scheduled for media duties, meet and greets, and the driver parade. You wanted to have a few moments of their time before releasing them to the wild.

Charles’ hand slipped from yours as you reached McLaren and he cradled your cheek before kissing you. “Are you alright to get back on your own?”

You rolled your eyes before looking at the Ferrari space four garages down. “I don’t know, it’s pretty far…I might get lost and end up in the Bellagio.”

“If you do, bet it all on Red for me,” he joked. The smile on his face dimmed as he saw the magician and Carlos waiting for him. “I’ll see you after the race, mamie. Je t’aime.”

“Love you too.”

“And Lando too.” He would have preferred to tell Lando himself but he just ran out of time with all the activities his team had planned for race day.

“I’ll let him know, and I’ll even give him a kiss from you,” you teased as you stole another kiss for good measure.

“Any advice from the current world champion?” he asked as he started to back away.

You shook your head. “It’s Vegas, baby, just give them one hell of a show.”

To say the atmosphere in Ferrari was charged was an understatement. There was resentment for Carlos’ car being destroyed and his mechanics gritted their teeth as they walked to the middle of the grid thanks to the penalties for fixing the car. On the other side of the garage, the side where you sat with Joris, excitement permeated the air as you watched Charles’ walk to his car parked in pole position.

You were torn between that excitement and the sadness that had followed you since leaving McLaren. Lando was being too hard on himself again for the bad luck he had qualifying 15th, but he was determined to make his way to the front of the pack. If anyone was going to be called Spitfire in the race, it was going to be him. He was going to dogfight his way forward from the moment the lights went out.

One of the cameras panned the crowd and you spotted him walking up from his spot three quarters of the way down the grid, all the way to the front where Charles was talking to Max. For a moment you were once again hit with the sense of longing to be out there but the feeling washed away as quick as it came.

“Do you want anything to eat?” Joris asked as he looked up from his phone. You chuckled knowing Charles would have sent the reminder text but you shook your head.

“I’m fine, thank you. And you can tell Charles I am keeping hydrated too,” you said with a smile, shaking your water bottle for him to see.

“You can always trust him to worry more about others, even when he’s meant to be focusing on the race,” he laughed as he sent the reply. “Have you thought any more about where you want to go for the maternity shoot?”

Charles had been eager to lock his friend in as the official bump photographer but there was still another four months until it was the best time to have them taken. He was also open to taking photos while you were in labour but you weren't too sure how you felt about that yet.

“Somewhere warm.”

“So no alpine backdrops then,” he chuckled, probably remembering how much you had complained about hiking in the snow last winter.

You scoffed at the idea, an adamant refusal to it. “Not if you’re expecting me to wear something that shows the bump.”

The action around the garages stilled as the guests on the grid were guided away for the formation lap to begin and you breathed a sigh of relief when Charles made it back to the first box without drama. Even Joris released a nervous laugh beside you.

“That’s a better start,” he murmured so the engineers around him didn’t hear.

“Couldn’t get any worse than the last one,” you replied just as quietly.

You held your breath and felt the same rush of adrenalin fill you as if you were right out there in front of the lights with them. Your fingers twitched at your sides, the muscle memory begging them to prepare for action as each red light appeared, then all five were gone. The keen whines of twenty engines accelerating to their limit screamed into the night and you grinned at the sound even though it was muted by the headset.

“Oh, fuck off, Max,” you screamed as he pushed Charles wide and they both went off track before pulling back on with your brother taking the lead. Suddenly your attention was brought to the back of the pack where multiple cars had been involved in an incident, but Lando had managed to avoid it and slip ahead a few places too. “Come on, baby, you can do it.”

Although there had been a lot of complaints about the showy nature of racing in Las Vegas, there was no denying it was a track that offered a lot of entertainment with long straights to overtake and high risk high reward corners too. You could barely sit still with your eyes glued to the many screens around the garage offering almost every angle of the race.

“Ok, I think this race has just redeemed itself,” you commented with a smile as you watched the battles taking place around the track.

“It is pretty amazing,” Joris said with his own excited grin, but shock fell over him and you snapped your head back to screen dreading seeing Charles out of the race again. But it wasn’t Charles.

Sparks flew as the floor hit the asphalt and your brain couldn’t seem to understand why Lando’s car was facing the wrong way. Still it kept skidding along the straight at full speed, spinning back around just before it collided with the barrier at the end of the runoff. Your breath left your lungs with the force of the collision and your entire body stiffened as your ears began to ring loudly. Your stomach lurched as you desperately hit the keys on the screen to select the driver view and you saw Lando’s shaking hands pull his steering console out.

“I, I need to go,” you whispered as you stood up on weak legs. “Can you tell Charles?”

“Xavi can do that, I’ll walk with you,” he said with a shake of his head. His arm looped with yours and stabilised you as you tried to rush out of the garage. They weren’t even stopping the race because he wasn’t on track and that made you feel even sicker. What if someone else went into the runoff?

“Mr Norris,” Joris called out, waving the worried man down. You blinked as you realised you were already in the McLaren garage, but you couldn’t remember the walk there.

“He’s alright,” Adam assured you as he pulled you into his side and thanked Joris for the escort. “I spoke to him after he got out of the car. They are going to the medical centre. Come on, darling, we can go together.”

“He’s alright?” you double checked, your vision blurring with tears.

Adam gave a sure nod as he started back the way you came, except he went towards the medical centre instead of the other garages. “His ribs hurt but he’s tough.”

Max said that when he was a child he would sleep walk, Vicki too. You imagined this was how they felt. Detached. Moving through darkness. Closing your eyes and waking in a new place. You blinked and the concrete path you were on was suddenly linoleum.

“Lando…” you sighed as you found him on a gurney, white blankets tucked in close around him.

“Heeeey,” he slurred happily, wincing as he snaked a hand out of his swaddle to reach for you. “It’s my girls.”

“You’re on the strong stuff, aren’t you, my love?” You faked a smile for him and took his hand, tilting your head towards Adam and the doctor explaining what was happening. You carefully leaned over the bed and kissed Lando until he broke out in giggles and his head lolled lazily back against the pillow.

“They’re taking him to the hospital for some scans just in case there’s any broken ribs,” Adam relayed when he reached your side and gave Lando a kiss on his forehead. “How are you feeling, son?”

“It hurts to breathe, but this is good,” he said, holding up his hand that was connected to the IV bag filled with strong painkillers.

A nurse came and unlocked the wheels on the gurney before asking who was going to ride in the ambulance with Lando. Adam looked at you and nodded, and though you knew he would have wanted to go with his son himself you were selfish and couldn’t leave his side.

“I’ll follow behind,” Adam promised before Lando was wheeled away.

You walked at Lando’s side out of the medical centre and found tv crews waiting, their cameras zoomed in on Lando and capturing his almost drunken state. A little loopy from the drugs in his system, he waved his fingers at the camera. “This will be on Netflix next year,” he laughed before wincing at the pain that flared. “So it’s safe to tell them, ‘I’M GOING TO BE A FATHER!’ and they can’t say a thing.”

Adam froze at his son’s outburst, though it was no secret that he was eager to shout to the world his joy. “Lando…” he growled, looking at your wide eyes.

“What? They aren’t allowed to use the footage for months,” he huffed.

“That’s not Netflix,” you whispered, swallowing the lump in your throat as you watched the tv crew almost tremble with excitement. “That’s Sky TV.”

Click here for the next part.

#charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one imagine #formula one fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 x you

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cloudypariah · 3 months

Text

How to perpetrate and sabotage your own kidnapping: A guide for dummies.

- The creation of the board (and its subsequent discovery)

Summary: Step One: host a brainstorming session with your teammates on how best to kidnap your future abductee. Step Two: have said abductee show up half an hour into the session and begin correcting your entire plan. Step Three: realise at the beginning of their impromptu presentation the target has absolutely no idea that they’re the target. Step Four: fail anyway.

Pairing: Dark!Poly!Task Force 141 x fem!Reader

Word count: 1.8k

Content tags: Dark content - Discussions around kidnapping, tense situations. If this is not your cup of tea, please go and find something different might better suited your palate. This is an 18+ fic meaning minors do not interact with this work. No one has permission from me to repost, copy or translate my work. No one has my permission to put my work into any AI source.

Notes: This is my first foray into the COD fandom and will be the first part in a dark comedy series. Please let me know what you think. Not proofread very well, sorry for any mistakes! Thanks for the motivation @live-love-be-unique !

Link to Task Force 141 masterlist / Link to COD masterlist

Captain John Price likes to think he knows his men well enough to trust them when his back is turned. Now that itself doesn’t necessarily mean knowing each and every one of their dirty secrets - he definitely wouldn’t come out smelling like fresh daisies if any number of his were revealed - but it does mean that he has the awareness to recognise that they all share one particular secret.

He sees it in the way Lieutenant Riley’s body language shifts when you give him his medical forms to look over, your consideration at offering him the option to disclose only certain personal information making the reserved soldier relax just enough to offer you a low thanks, accompanied with a stare that stretches on for a few moments longer than considered socially polite.

It’s also so amazingly obvious with Sergeant MacTavish. John’s surprised everyone else misses the way Soap’s smile takes a little longer to fade after departing for yet another mission, your swift congratulations on completing yet another physiotherapy appointment - “ Keep it up the good work big guy” - leaving the Scotsman floating on cloud nine damn near until the plane lands.

And how could he forget Sergeant Garrick? The man’s quick to change his tune and focus up, but the captain has observed Kyle absentmindedly rubbing his shoulder, thumb gingerly stroking the spot where your palm was only moments before, your figure long gone as you retreat down the corridor to where you came from.

No, Jonathan Price doesn’t miss a thing about his men. And it only takes two weeks and a long chat in the corner booth of the bar one quiet night - sans you or Laswell - before somehow his place becomes the meeting point for an unusual, though not unwelcome, topic - you.

More specifically, how to keep you.

The wooden shit box of a sports bar was where the first two facts were confirmed amongst them: 1. Every single one of the 141 men wanted you for themselves, but they weren’t above sharing. 2. You weren’t worth killing each other over, not when there was a much easier solution staring them in the face.

John’s house became the go-to place to discuss fact number three - They needed a plan.

It was Gaz who initially suggested the whiteboard after numerous interjections from Ghost and John; from everything to how to keep this from Laswell, to deciding which of your usual hangouts would provide them with the best opportunity to commence your “relocation”, to how to delicately but firmly explain said "relocation" to you once it was complete. Kyle loves his brothers in arms and never regrets a moment where his life is on the line if it means saving any one of them, but his patience began to wear thin when Soap got bored and started using goddamn paper planes instead of words to get his point across. At that Price finally relented and bought the damn thing.

Now, John was expecting you to pop by his place on Wednesday night to drop some papers off. A perfect opportunity, were it not for the fact that the gentlemen were still disagreeing on where to relocate you. However, it’ll allow you to grow more comfortable with him while he has some alone time with you, your presence like a balm on a wound - soothing and necessary (at least to him).

He had been looking forward to seeing you… tomorrow. So when you turn up not just on the doorstep but in the middle of the bloody hallway in his own bloody home halfway through the 141 “guys night”, his secondary action of shitting bricks quickly overrides his primary instinct to eliminate the threat.

He’s on his way back from the bathroom when he sees you standing, familiar folders firm in your grasp - fucking hell, is that his spare key too? - and a sour expression on your pretty face.

Your eyes narrow further when you spot him, striding over with fury rolling off you in small waves. “Captain Price, I know you did not leave these dossiers on my desk just before the end of my work day with a note stating they all need to be completed by the end of the work day.”

John’s senses are briefly overwhelmed by you being so close to him, the sight of you angry having a different effect on him than what you had originally intended. He’s never seen it before, and his hand twitches when you’re less than a foot away - fluctuating adrenaline or the desire to reach out and hold you, he’s not sure which is more prevalent.

He always forgets to not be so obvious around you, but it isn’t as though you usually notice. (He’s not sure if the thought should make him feel sad or grateful.)

The sounds of his men arguing in the background, merely the next room over, are enough to bring reality crashing down hard.

His voice is deliberately loud and stalwart when replies. “You can’t be here.”

“Tough shit. Your lads night can wait.” You lean past him to the origin of what your gut was telling you was the sounds of the remaining 141 members quarreling. It’s easy to slip past Captain Price once your mind is set, the push of files against his chest preventing him from reacting for a few seconds - all the time you need to move down the hallway to where everyone else is bound to be.

John is quick to rush behind you, the arguing noises having swiftly changed to near cartoon-like crashes just moments before you enter the room.

Ghost has migrated to the corner of the sitting area, standing as stiff as a fucking nutcracker, a mountain of crumpled notes and paper planes spilling out from between his arms. (His mask is still on thank god because it’ll hide exactly how caught out he feels, and if there’s one thing Simon Riley cannot stand it’s feeling like a kid with his hand caught in the cookie jar). His eyes instinctually watch your every move, waiting for your reaction.

Both of your gazes drift to the other side of the room, with neither of you failing to notice how the couch cushions are strewn widely across the space, (with one being stuck on top of a bookshelf for some odd reason) to find not one, but two soldiers gecko’d to the standing whiteboard.

Their demolitions expert is currently splayed out on the left side of the board and desperately grabbing the top of its metal frame, his stomach pressed into the cold porcelain and a left leg hitched up in a poor attempt to conceal the incriminating writing.

Price’s protégé is in a similar state. Dear Gaz has his back against the right side, with his arms outstretched to - much like Johnny - cover as much of their group planning as possible, a coloured marker clasped in each fist.

Two deers in headlights.

The sight of his task force is enough to bring back flashbacks of his original conversation with Kate about bringing these men together because Jesus H. Christ, what the fuck was he thinking?

There are a few moments when nobody moves or dares to breathe…

… except for you, of course.

You waste no time walking over to the two youngest members of the 141 as you attempt to shove them off the board. “Move,” you demand, palms pushing firmly against their sides. “I want to know what’s so important to everyone.” When they refuse, you do your best to stare at them, pleading with a pleasantly soft, “Please.”

Yeah, they both do what you say with ease when they hear that, giving you enough space to take in the somewhat smudged scribbles.

You miss the signal John gives Simon, the Ghost moving closer to your position as John quietly locks the door, and when your attention is drawn back to the board after the other two move you also miss all of the knowing looks shared behind your back. This was very far from ideal, but how can they recover from this?

They hope you understand that whatever comes next, they didn’t plan for it to start this way.

Kyle and John call your name but you ignore them, still processing the information written in front of you.

Johnny flexes his hands, preparing for the worst as you step back and say, “This is… bullshit.”

Every single member stops. That was not the reaction they were expecting.

Turning to face the group, you scoff. “I’m not even kidding. Firstly, you’re using guys' night to work, which is horrible for your mental and emotional health. And you should all know better.”

Four sets of brows furrow in united confusion. You don’t let that deter you from continuing, your arms gesturing haphazardly at the whiteboard. “Secondly, this is hands-down one of the worst brainstorms I have ever seen. This is not cohesive in the fucking slightest. Garrick, mark me.”

Kyle chokes on his spit, his brain short-circuiting before he sees your fingers wiggling at one of the markers he’s holding. The sergeant promptly gives it to you.

Your free hand takes turns pointing at everyone else in the room, a verbal command of, “sit down” directed at each man also. Dumbly and cautiously they all do. Ghost places himself at the end of the couch nearest the entrance, John strategically chooses a spot between yourself and the kitchen, and Soap and Gaz sit closest to you, where the two of them can hear you muttering under your breath as you draw what appears to be a massive cloud shape in the middle of the board.

Once completed, you fill your shape in with the word ‘TARGET’ and slam your free hand against the board. No one flinches, but if one were to look closely there would be some eyes widening in response. Johnny swears he sees one of your eyelids twitch.

“So,” you call out, “what do we know about the target?”

There are not only wide eyes looking at you, there are full glances exchanged between your audience.

“Seeing as you had the nerve to not invite me in your little meeting while keeping me on overtime” - Kyle and John squirm at that, and your finger makes a little circle - “we are going to be working on this project together. With all due respect, I’m not asking.”

Surely not…

And it’s when Captain John Price reviews the writing left over from the others that he realises Kyle and Johnny did one thing right during their clusterfuck of a coverup.

They managed to erase your name.

… you have absolutely no idea you are the target.

A piece of writing far in the coroner catches your attention, and your shoulders slump. “The target likes knitting and ‘The Karate Kid’. In another life we would have been the best of friends.” A dramatic sigh leaves you, “Oh well, at least I’ll be able to give you some insight into the mindset of this individual. Any questions?”

Four hands shoot up.

Rubbing your hands together with glee, a maniac smile grows on your face. “Excellent.”

#dark!141 #poly 141 #darkfic #task force 141 x reader #dark task force 141 x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #john price x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #sergeant kyle gaz garrick x reader #cod x female reader #female reader #cloudypariah writes

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sourcherryandsprinkles · 2 months

Note

please do something with peter parker for vday. I miss you writing for him

I started writing this one last year for Valentine's Day...forgive me for the long wait

—

‘’No, you don’t understand, Ned. It needs to be perfect,’’ Peter explained, turning to his best friend for help.

‘’My longest and only relationship lasted about sixty hours, so I’m not really the one to come to for Valentine’s Day gift ideas.’’

‘’Uncle Ben always gave May flowers and chocolate.’’ And Peter always tried to steal chocolate from the box. ‘’But Y/N is Mr. Stark’s daughter, I can’t just buy her flowers and chocolate. She’ll think I’m poor.’’

‘’Didn’t you tell me this morning that you only have five dollars in your pockets?’’ Ned recalled, taking one of the homemade cookies his lola had put into his lunch bag and taking a bite. There was one for Peter too, but he was too busy worrying and panicking.

Peter groaned and hid his face in his crossed arms, frustrated and desperate. Being broke was a second problem to his Valentine’s Day plan. ‘’What am I gonna do? Valentine’s Day is in two days. I can’t not get her anything.’’

‘’If you go back to the roots of Valentine’s Day, it’s about celebrating love. You don’t have to spend money to show someone you love them.’’ Peter opened his mouth, but Ned spoke first. ‘’Even if she’s a Stark and bathes in money,’’ he added. ‘’She didn’t fall in love with you because of your economic status, she fell in love because of who you are.’’

On the big day, Peter set everything up in his living room. May was on a date with Happy, so he had the apartment to himself — until 10pm. He didn’t have a projector, so he made one with a shoebox and a magnifying glass, and hung a sheet to one of the walls to turn into a screen. He made cheese pastas and brought over the single chocolate cupcake he was able to afford.

He was nervous, constantly checking his phone waiting for your ‘I’m here’ text. When he finally got it, Peter rushed to the door, smoothing his button up and fixing his hair before opening. If he was this nervous for Valentine’s Day, he didn’t want to imagine the nervous wreck he would be at his wedding.

Not that he was planning on getting married anytime soon.

‘’Happy Valentine’s Day,’’ you said with a smile on your glossy lips.

Peter said the words back and let you in, gulping when his eyes fell on the small gift bag you were holding. You set it down on the table to take off your coat and boots, revealing a pink sweater and a sparkly necklace that cost probably more than anything in May's apartment.

You followed Peter to the living room, excitement bubbling in your stomach when seeing the frozen image of your favorite rom-com projected on the wall. ‘’You made this?’’

Peter gave you a small nod. Projectors were easy to make. He learned how in a science book for kids when he was nine. May was so impressed when he showed her his ‘magic box’.

‘’It’s not much, but—’’ he started to say, but you shut him up with a kiss.

‘’Stop it,’’ you said, guessing his train of thoughts. ‘’This is the best Valentine’s Day gift ever.’’

You never had another valentine before him — beside the little boys in middle school who sent you cards and heart lollipops —, but Peter’s gift came from the heart. It was thoughtful and personal, therefore meant a lot to you.

After eating the pastas, you handed Peter the gift bag. He was nervous just from holding it.

He slowly pulled out the festive tissue papers and groaned when seeing a red and blue plush toy. ‘’Spiderman? Really?’’ Peter made an annoyed face. He didn't want to come off as ungrateful, but he was getting tired of the jokes with the Spiderman merch he had no control over.

‘’Press his chest,’’ you instructed, ignoring his complaints.

Peter gave you a confused look, but listened. ‘’I love you, my Spidey,’’ the toy said.

You watched his expressions shift from confusion to surprise, Peter’s eyes widening when he recognized the sound of your voice. A genuine smile spread across his face, the small plush taking a whole other meaning. ‘’That's your voice,’’ he whispered, still holding the talking Spiderman plush.

You nodded, the sparks in Peter’s eyes telling you that no expensive gift could have matched this one. He was truly touched. ‘’I know you don’t like when I get you expensive things, so I didn’t get you a new watch,’’ you explained, thinking back at the Cartier watch you hesitated on last week. He would have hated it.

Turning toward you, Peter enveloped you in a hug to properly thank you.

Your arms wrapped around him in return. ‘’Even when I’m not with you, you’ll always have something to remind you that I love you.’’

—

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All and more taglist: @kenqki @hawkegfs @gillybear17 @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade @mellabella101 @vxnity713 @bisexualgirlsblog @queenofslytherin889 @thatbxtchesblog @softb-tterfly @ethanlandrycanbreakmyheart @xyzstar @graceberman3 @mikeyspinkcup @jackierose902109 @daisydark @laurasdrey @mischieftom @fanatic4niall @peterholland04 @idkwhattonamethisblogs @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @zoeynicolas @thejuleshypothesis @multi-fandom-bi-bitch @lexasaurs634 @notasadgirlipromise @thejuleshypothesis @katherinejess @rafesgirlstuff @lafleshlumpeater @iamluminosity

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker imagine #marvel #spiderman #tom!peter parker x reader

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gegewrites · 11 months

Text

Dr.house- working after hours. (Smut)

Currently obsessed with this man, he’s been in my dreams for the past 4 days. Barely edited. I’m not a Med student, I’m a film kid. So my two hours of spotty research are prob not all that right.

5/21/23

Your pov-

It was about twelve am, maybe even one. I was sitting in Dr.Houses office. Seated directly in his chair, my elbows resting on the glass top desk, my chin sitting on top of my hands as I looked down at the file in front of me.

Our current patient, Craig Sanders, forty-five, male. He travels often for work. Earlier today he had a heart attack at home, in the garage. Pronounced dead for 7 minutes. Gotta be some kind of record. He’s loosing vision and feeling in his limbs, loss of memory but none of it stays. It comes and goes.

Because I had clinic duty today I didn’t get to fully focus on the patient, only for the beginning. I got to view the scans quickly but was paged to the clinic, so now I’m catching up.

I didn’t look up when the glass door opened, it knew it was house because who else would just walk into a office that has its blinds closed, let alone at 1 am.

“In my chair, now I really can’t ignore you.” He commented, I gave a light scoff as ket my eyes at the paper, not really reading it, just thinking,”shouldn’t you be home?”

“Shouldn’t you?” I looked up at him. he was standing in front of the desk, leaning on his left leg, his grip of his cane shifting, he gazed down at the file in front of me.

“Touché.” He stood for a few seconds longer before we walked away. I didn’t watch him, but I heard his bottle of whiskey open as he poured it into a glass.

“How much sense does this case make to you?” I asked, leaning back in the chair, we was leaning against the desk behind me glass in hand,”his heart is finally semi stable, so It’s not having sn effect of anything at the moment, but , his brains loosing funct-“

“I think I’d be able to think better if you got out of my chair, hiked that pretty skirt up, and sat down on me.” He clicked his tongue,”Should really get my brain going.”

I was kind of taken by surprise, house and I have fucked more times then you can count on one hand. In The Broom closets, his car, his house, on his piano, but never in his office.

I knew from the moment I walked into the office today this skirt was gonna get him. pencil skirt, stopped just above my knees. A dark grey so you could see any lines, which he didn’t. I caught him looking on more then one occasion.

Earlier/11 am-

Houses Pov-

My grip on the head of my cane shifted as I watched (l/n) write on the board. Her writing on the board was fine, she’s been here for nine years, she knows what she’s doing and she picked up this patient. But, I couldn’t keep my eyes in the board or my attention on foreman, Cameron, or chase. No, my eyes and brain were more focused on her ass. I’d occasionally look the board or around to cover it but I kept getting pulled back.

Pencil skirt, Dark grey, tight…and short.

It’s not like she hasn’t worn pencil skirts before, I’ve seen her with one hiked up around her waist as she gets it from behind. first “date” two years ago actually. Wine Red. Nice color on her.

You see this one, this one was different. usually you can see panty lines under tight clothing like dresses or skirts, she’s usually got a slight thong line, and I’ve been looking for it.

“What do you think?” I was taken out by (l/n) question. I looked at her, hands sturdily placed in her hips, and I looked at the white board.

Memory loss, weakened heart muscles, low blood cell count, numbness in fingers and toes, and loss of eye sight, intermittently.

Those were just the main ones.

“EKG, stress test, keep an eye on his ECGs.” I stood up,” get all the cardiac makers. Dementia, Alzheimer’s, and multiple sclerosis. Let’s start there.” They didn’t move, just looked at me,”move, I have to get to the clinic or Cuddy will have my balls.”

“Alright.” Foreman said as he got up from his chair, Cameron and chase followed. (l/n) stuck around for a bit and looked at the board before she followed.

“Hey.” I called to catch her attention, she stopped and looked at me,”that new?”

“What?”

“The skirt, it’s nice.” I let my eyes fall from her face to her hips, where her black button up was tucked in. She grabbed her white coat from the chair at the end of the table.

“Thank you.” She smiled as she turned around,”I saw you looking the whole time,” she started to walk away,”we all saw.”

“Hard not too, especially when it seems like youre not wearing anything under it.” I followed her into my office, she was already at the open door.

“I am, it’s just thin.”

Now-

Your pov-

“Perfect, just Fuckin perfect.” He groaned, relaxed into the rolling chair, his hands placed on my waist. His finger tips pressed in and out of my clothed skin. My pussy was clenched around his cock, buried inside of me as I was sitting tightly on his lap. My thong moved to the side. The record player was on, playing one of his blues records, mainly instrumental.

He popped two of his Vicodin right before he yanked up my skirt, he was definitely enjoying all of this right now. The door wasn’t locked, but the blinds were closed. A little risky considering Wilson is still around, his wife is gonna be mad when he gets home but he’s got reports to do.

I went to rock my hips to get some pleasure but his grip stopped me.

“Greg.” I sighed out and he hummed, pressing his chest against my back.

“Just sit, go over the information.” His hands ran up my shirt, over my breasts as he started unbuttoning it, exposing my skin and black bra. His lips kissed my neck, his beard tickling my skin as he untucked my shirt from my skirt,”you changed a hair product.”

“My conditioner.” I answered as I switched between tests, comparing and contrasting, trying to make things fit.

He stopped talking after that, running his hands up and down my sides, grazing over fabric and my skin.

I drowned out into the music and the feeling of his cock deep inside me, the littlest shift and he’s rubbing into my gspot. He was relaxed back into the chair, glass of whiskey in his hand as the other held onto my waist.

I looked over to the light board, scans of his heart and brain trying to pick it apart from where I was seated…at least I was. I stopped paying attention when I felt his hand slip from my waist, down to my thigh. His middle finger slipped through my lips and started slowly rubbing my clit in a circular motion.

“Please don’t stop.” I begged out in a breath.

“But what’s the fun in that?” He leaned forward, putting his glass in the desk while making sure he was pressed firmly inside me, making a pitiful whimper leave my mouth,”look at his temporal and parietal lobe in the lateral view,” he turned the chair, I grabbed onto the arms,” along with his cerebellum in the inferior view. Look hard.”

“It’s dying, we know that.” My voice had a slight shiver to it, my legs were also starting to tremble, he still hasn’t stopped rubbing my clit.

“Why?” He started rubbing harder, I was getting wetter, my walls fluttering around him, I stayed nearly silent, besides the small gasps which were starting to turn into moans,”he’s started loosing control of his limbs, impulsive reflex’s cause by the brain, loss of vision intermittently, why?”

“Brain death?” My eyes shot from the lateral view to his inferior view,”His brain stem…he had a heart attack a-alone….” My breathing became deeper,”took the family two minutes to get to him, another five before the para-Ah fuck- medics came.” I answered,”the brain lost oxygen when his heart stopped.”

“Alright, keep going.” He rocked his hips up into me, being extra sure to use his good leg only. Now I was feeling it, my hips started rocking down onto him, his finger was moving fast and hard, I could feel my mind slipping from me.

“There’s no-othing we can do.” I kept the moan that was trying to escape out, wouldve felt wrong saying it with a moan.

“Sure it’s brain death?”

“Yes greg.” My eyes closed on their own, my back arched slightly. He stopped moving, completely,”fuck, come on.” He grabbed into my waist, keeping me still.

“You wanna cum, then give me the right answer, his brain is going to die if you don’t. Key word, going. It hasn’t yet.” He spoke close to my ear,”this is why clinic duty sucks, you get lost in the progress of a patient.”

“What?”

“He had a heart attack, we know that. The heart attack is not closely connected to this, so get that out of your head.” His tone was stern,”he’s slowly declining at the moment, recount his history, what does he do for work?” My eyes shifted around as I thought,”is your brain going dead by how deep my cock is inside of you? Should I take it out? Let you think?”

“No!” I yelped out,” he travels for business but he gets his shots.”

“Not all.” He reached to the desk and then handed me the folder whilst pulling me flush against his chest, his palm pressed to my lower stomach as I flipped through to find his travel history,”were was he a few months ago?”

“Mexico.”

“What vaccine is he missing?”

“I don’t know.”

“He got sick in Mexico, had what seemed like a cold, so he was required to get a flu vaccine by his work. It’s not on the list he didn’t feel like he needed to list it.” I blinked a few times.

“So it’s from the vaccine?” The recorded fades out and started playing a new song. He grabbed his glass of whiskey.

“Ding ding.” He threw back the rest of the glass and put it on the desk,” AMAN, found mostly in children. It causing damage to the nerve fibers, which instead of staying in his limbs, progressed to his brain-“

“Which was set off by the heart attack? Being dead for that amount of time set off his immune system?” He rolled his hips into me.

“What do we have to do?” He took the file from me and put it back on the desk,”we don’t act within the next 2 hours, he’s gonna die”.

“His brain is being paralyzed which is mimicking it dying,.plasmapheresis or IVIG, remove the antibodies from the blood.” His finger went back to my clit, regaining the speed and pressure from before.

“Perfect.” He started moving my hips so I started moving them faster, rocking up and down,”oh fuck.”

It felt like electricity was shooting up my spine, simply having his cock inside me gets me so worked up. Moans left my mouth with no warning or control. Slick coated the inside of my thighs and the sounds coming from where we were connected were obscene, but they turned me on even more.

“Gotta start doin’ this to you more, so fucking wet.” He groaned,”Fuckin squeezing me,”

I couldn’t respond, just nodded quickly while ecstasy started taking over my body, my nerves felt like they were on fire. I just kept riding him , my brain focused on finally reaching my climax.

“Greg, m’ close.” I sighed out and he let out a throaty groan. his breathing became a bit faster and so did my movements.

“I can feel it.” His index finger joined his middle finger as he rubbed my clit harshly and quickly,”I know you’re there so just let go. Cum all over my Fuckin cock like I know you want to.”

“Perfect!” I moaned out as my muscles tightened, my grip on the arms of the chair were tight, knuckles turning white. I threw my head back, my eyes were clamped shut, my movements started slowly so he took hold of my hips and kept my pace for me, even with the lack of pleasure to clit, my orgasm was still running through me.

I felt his cock start twitching, his groans becoming louder and more noticeable.

“Hope you took the pill this morning.” He commented, his nails digging into my skin as he finally came. Spilling deep inside of me, keeping most of his cock inside as he filled me up.

Soon he stopped moving me, kept me sat on his lap as his arms wrapped around my waist, holding his hands together as I grabbed one of his wrists. We were both catching our breath in the dim lit office. My body had a tremble to it, and he placed a kiss against my shoulder.

“I’d love to sit here and savor the feeling of your amazing pussy, but I have to clear a businessman’s blood so his brain can start working again.”

I let out a sigh as I shakily got off of him, his cock slid out of me and immediately I felt his cum drip down the inside of my thighs. I grabbed the edge of the desk as he fixed my thong and pulled my skirt back down. I turned around and leaned against the desk as he stood up fixing his boxers and pants.

“I’ll be back in a bit,” he grabbed his cane and started walking away,”we’ll go to my house tonight.”

He left me with that, the door closed behind him and he walked away to the patients room. I sat down in the chair, my thighs pressing together and my head resting on the head of the chair. I don’t think working after hours is gonna be such a bad thing anymore.

#gegewrites #fanfiction #smut writer #dr. house #greg house x reader #greg house #dr.house fanfic #greg house smut #dr house smut #gregory house #house md smut #house md

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