#i am so not the right person to do this oof

[supernotnatural2005]

Imagine sending Jensen a thread of filthy texts whilst watching him perform a gig 👀

AN: This was purely based off of this gif set. Because hot damn!!! 🥵🥵

Warnings: Language, suggestive texts, smutty thoughts - 18+ ONLY

Main Masterlist

Jensen's Masterlist

You stood at the back of the crowd, figuratively keeping your head down as you quietly supported your boyfriend’s band, Radio Company. 

Jensen had a lot of fans, even in your hometown of Austin, and you wanted to keep a low profile so as not to draw any attention to yourself. You were not a celebrity by any means, maybe now by proxy because of your relationship with him, but still, you liked to maintain your privacy. 

Jensen just handled the attention better; he was a natural. Maybe it was for the fact he’d been in the limelight for the better part of over 3 decades, but you think it was also because he was just so genuine. You truly admired him for it. Supernatural had created such a loving and welcoming fanbase that exceeded even beyond the show's eventual end. 

It was incredible to witness and even be a part of for the last few years. So it was no surprise to you that they would support him with his other talents. 

You watched on in astonishment, as per usual, as he sang the last lines of their song—Drowning. One of your personal favourites because it showcased just how beautiful Jensen’s voice really was. He never ceased to amaze you, even now, nearing the 4 years you’d been together.

However, you too enjoyed keeping him on his toes. It was only fair. Though, the way he looked up there, glistening with sweat from his efforts and from the August heatwave up here in Austin; his sleeveless arms gloriously tanned and toned, his longer locks damp and slicked back with a casual hand and bearded jaw. He was only to blame for what you did next. 

You pulled out your phone as the band took a mini break to take a drink and talk to the crowd and opened your text thread with Jensen. 

‘You have no idea how hot I am for you right now.’ 

‘What I’d give just to kiss you, to touch you, to taste you.’ 

‘I’m so wet for you I can feel it between my thighs, every time I move.’ 

‘I wish you could come find out what you do to me.’

The words kept coming, flowing through your thumbs as you tapped away at the keyboard, sending one after the other, getting filthier and filthier with each one. 

‘Fuck, I’m so horny I’d let you fuck me in the restroom after your set.’ 

‘Would you like that baby?’

‘Feel your big cock slip so easily inside me?’

You bit your lip, blushing at your boldness and the increasing wetness between your legs. You were only torturing yourself at this point, but as you looked up, you saw your boyfriend’s frown and him reaching for his phone in his jeans pocket. 

Your heart began to race, heat, other than from the warmth of the room, licking up your spine, tingling your fingers through to your toes. You watched his face go from confused to bewildered to mad. His jaw ticking and the tightening grip on the device were telltale signs you’d pushed his buttons. 

His eyes flicked quickly to where you stood in the back, flipping you off with a look that would only intimidate the unexpected. But you knew differently. That was a look that said, “You’re going to be punished for that when we get home.” The thought alone sent another thrill of excitement through you.

AN: oof 🥵😅 just a quick little impulsive imagine that hit me. But can you blame me! Look at him! 😍 (also as a side note: i have nothing against his wonderful family, this is just purely fiction.) As always, feedback is much appreciated! 💕

[maxedes]

german terms of endearment for your fanfics

i‘ve recently stumbled across some fanfics about german drivers (mainly nico & seb if we‘re being honest) and quite a few liked to use german terms of endearment. thing is, that they mainly use words that aren‘t really used in germany & sound a little strange. like „liebchen“ which i have never heard anyone say irl & which frankly just sounds like bad german from an american n*zi movie. or „mädchen“ which just means girl & can be used as „mein mädchen“ (my girl) but does kinda sound like something your weird toxic first bf would say. so to make everyones lifes a little easier: some german pet names that actually get used with a little context:

Schatz (treasure)

probably the most commonly used term in german. everyone & their mom uses it for romantic partners. can be used in any situations. i think there are people who forget their partners name because they just call them Schatz. to make it even cuter you can say „Schatzi“ but use carefully since that could easily sound condescending. same goes for „Schätzchen“ which in theory makes it cuter but actually mainly sounds like a guy talking down on you.

mein Herz (my heart)

emphasis on the „mein“ just calling someone a heart is a strange thing to do. you can also say „Herzchen“ but same problem as „Schätzchen“

Liebling (my beloved, my dearest)

this is what everyone thinks liebchen is. from personal experience i‘d say it‘s a word more often used by older people but could work.

Engel/chen (angel)

actually alright. maybe also use „mein“ in front of it. „mein kleiner engel“ → my little angel

Baby / Babe (same as english lol)

gets used rather frequently. same implications as in english

Hase / Hasi (bunny)

not inherently romantic/sexual. a cute one.

Maus/i (mouse/little mouse)

has been vERY popularized by the kids™️ and i mean that in the sense that quite literally everyone & everything gets called „maussss“. maybe to the point where it‘s been a little overused.

Schnecke / Schnecki (snail)

or schnegge. but with that your easily in a little creepy territory. schnecki is kinda cute though. i think my mom used to call me that so it doesn‘t have to be romantic. also no, i don‘t know why you would call someone snail as a cute little nickname and no it doesn‘t have to relate to their general speed (walking, driving or thinking)

Spatz / Spätzchen / Spazl (sparrow)

i don‘t know what germans have with this bird but it is popular. the last version „spatzl“ is mainly used in southern germany. it‘s what my parents call each other so if someone tried to call me that my toenails would curl up and not in a good way.

Dicker (fatty)

not to be confused with digger/digga which comes from the word but is more used like „bro“ (yeas i know what it looks like a first glace, pinky promise thats not what it is). only fun if used endearingly.

Sonnenschein (sunshine)

for my seb girlies (gn). it‘s a pretty long word though so probably not something to call someone on a regular basis

in conclusion: most of them are still bad and maybe even a little icky. i think the real way to go would be an inside joke or just a shorter or cute version of their name. german really isn‘t the language to be romantic in, in spite of what göthe might what you to think. i literally couldn‘t think of any more so i googeled & saw some of the most disturbing pet names imaginable.

[dudethatsmyundeaduncle]

Y'all heard that song "one of your girls" by Troye Sivan its Pining TimKon coded. Cuz like:

"Give me a call if you ever get lonely I'll be like one of your girls or your homies Say what you want, and I'll keep it a secret You got the key to my heart, and I need it Give me a call if you ever get desperate I'll be like one of your girls"

[shirefantasies]

One of my besties is hyping me up to ask a new coworker out but I have never done that before I am do a frighten

[fragglerockopinions]

The worst thing about suffering is that it still hurts when the danger is over but no one cares about it anymore because it shouldn't hurt. No one will ever say "I'm sorry that happened to you" especially when they barely say "I'm sorry that's happening."

[foxgloveinspace]

saw your tags on my post and i hope you find that ‘spark’ to really go feral over sleep token again! they’re so much fun to be batshit crazy over, there’s just so much going on and they all seem like such genuine dudes i can’t get enough

that post was sparked by seeing a video of vessel sobbing through the end of ascensionism and like i was so done for after that. like physically shaking so i figured i needed a break for a bit 😂

also i think that altar sounds like an awesome idea! as soon as i move my dresser into my new place i’m setting up an altar on it

1). i am trying so hard to get it back, for real for real. I lit the candle I associate with them this morning, and thinking about the *altar thing has helped a bit.

2). share a link👀?? if you still know the video?? even if you don't know the video still, maybe send some others?? I would like to be a menace over them lol.

3). * I am now going to info dump to you about my sleep token altar a bit. Cause I am thinking too much about it lmao.

(readmore cause this got long and something... 'tragic' happened.)

(a little.. background, I am currently irl in the closet for everything including witchy stuff lmao) So far my idea for stuff on it includes: a small back prism, a small whale statue, a small apple pendant (each to represent the three albums). A bottle of oils (the little one I made, but also maybe something like the prayer oil we talked about). The candle I associate with them. I'm kicking around getting the incense holder if it comes back in stock on their website. bones/teeth (wolf, I'm thinking wolf). I'm thinking it'll be a little place on my main/working/creative altar. I might also try to find a tarot deck that i associate with them, I think that would be fun. something else I have been thinking about, but it would be so freaking expensive to do, is making a rosary with the 'offical' -

shit.... fuck shit fuck. I think I just spoiled myself on accident cause of google. I didn't see much but i think an old pic of vessel came up, but fuck google man. I went to google the official scythe pendant and google change sycthe (yes misspelled like that) to members for some reason, I am so confused and actually mad. Ok. I think I have forced my brain to forget. worst google fuck up ever.

ok, so ... trying to move on... I want to make a rosary with the official scythe pendant, some tahitain pearls and some black amber beads. I think that would be so pretty, and nice to hold and maybe wear. ( i know traditionally you don't wear them, but like.... I am making one to a band/fictional god lmao, it's not traditional at all.) but that would be very pricy for a piece of jewelry and I would probably never wear it cause of that haha. it would be like 400$ to be able to get the supplies.

[spikeisawesome456]

.

[aeolianblues]

.

[indefiniteavatar]

So basically, in a case about him shoving money at someone so they shut up about him. . .he can’t shut the fuck up himself. I would say something clever and funny here, except the sad part is that this is just so normal in current politics that it’s just. . .not hilariously absurd behavior anymore? Not to say that it’s not absurd - it is beyond such, but it is just. . . predictable, I suppose.

I guess this is how I feel about politics lately? Either I get mad at everything or I try to laugh at everything and normally that works because politicians usually aren’t so tragically stupid so very often, but now I just kinda have to chuckle at the particularly eyeroll worthy things like this, and try to ignore everything else or my brain will explode.

[screampied]

“tch, what are you doing.”

“hugging you.”

“i’m not stupid. why are you hugging me,”

sukuna grouses, his entire vast frame growing stiff. it was always like this with you. every few seconds, you’d be talking to him about literally anything and out of nowhere, your human arms just wrap around his waist. the demon stands still with the most repulsed poker-face, yet he doesn’t attempt to pry you off. for whatever reason, your warmth was surprisingly .. comfortable. you’ve got the cutest smile contorting against your features. burying your face into the center of his chest, the demon sighs, flicking your forehead. “oi brat, i asked you a question.”

playfully wincing at his gesture — you have a tiny pout. “you looked like you could use one,” and your arms briefly tighten around his slim torso. “also, usually when someone’s hugging you, you’re required to hug the other person b-”

“don’t tell me what to do,” and you gasp, feeling strong arms pull you in close. with an oof, you land right into his soft padded chest. your cheek tenderly rubs against the various ancient markings that paint and decorate his skin. the ‘hug’ only lasts for about three seconds before he pulls away, pretending to feel ill. a mere drama king. “disgusting. got me participating in such a revolting, humanly act. think ‘m gonna be sick.”

“oh, don’t be dramatic,” you tease, leaning into his touch. you’re met with a crimson-red glare but you could spot the vague pout forming against his lips if you squinted. out of all the pesky humans he’s encountered, no one was ever tolerable or worthy for his attention.

no one except . . . you.

a simple gesture as hugging makes him feel mushy ‘n soft inside and he hates it. loathes it, that dumb carefree grin that cheeses against your lips, the cute glimmer sparkling in your eyes. so irritating, so . . adorable.

as you rest your chin against his chest, you let off a tiny huff. “do demons not hug each other?”

“not in this way,” he murmurs, feeling an awkward lump brew in his throat. sukuna’s eyes suddenly avoid yours and you grow curious. not only that, but his body language changes. your softness was making him nervous.

he swears a plethora of inaudible curses under his breath, remaining rigidly stiff and refuses to move his beefy arms another itch. your arms wrap around him again and a huffing sigh makes his tense shoulder lower. with a grumpy grunt, his eye twitches and a single fang bares below his top lip, a sign of cute stubborn annoyance. “ack, you’re squishing me, human. release me at once.”

your chin swiftly rubs against the soft fabric that made up his personalized kimono before deadpanning. “not until you hug me back.”

“i am hugging you back.”

“no you’re not,” you giggle, burying your face inside between the opening slit of his clothing piece. his body heat tepidly radiates against you and you’re engulfed with his loud natural scent. the demon’s almost always naturally warm, your personal heating pad. he shoots you a vexing glare, nostrils flaring up in exasperation before his arms awkwardly pull you closer. “hey, not s- so tight, ‘kuna.”

“now you wanna complain? you’re gonna take this hug,” and you giggle, feeling him gingerly shove you into his broad chest, squeezing you tight.

sukuna sassily rolls his eyes at the audacity,

he’s never been one to participate in such ludicrous, but if it was with you, maybe it wasn’t that bad. sukuna stares down at you, a weird soft feeling pooling its way into his heart — after a while, he unwraps his arms from your body, ruffling your hair. “stupid.”

with a cheeky grin, you wrap your arms right back around his torso, nuzzling against his chest like you were a kitten. with a gruff groan, his arms suddenly mirror you, slinging around your waist, pulling you close tightly. how annoying, he’s starting to enjoy this little thing called ‘hugging.’

sukuna slowly adapts to the warmth of your body against him, a faint smile creeping on his face at your next adoring words. “love you ‘kuna.”

“you’re gonna experience a deadly cough in five days, brat.”

“huh?”

“hmph. i said . . i love you too.”

[hurtspideyparker]

If Civil War didn't end in divorce and everyone lived together Part 2

Read Part 1 and Part 3

Tony: Why is Underoos mopping the ceiling?

Sam: Told him since he's sticky that's his chore

Bucky: It's only fair he helps out around the house

Tony: Hm. Makes sense

-

Vision cooked dinner:

Peter: *pushing around food to make it look eaten*

Natasha: *surreptitiously spitting into napkin*

Steve: *taking small bites with tons of water*

Bucky: *just stares at full plate*

Tony: Well this is disgusting, I'm ordering pizza

-

Sam: C'mon man stop moping around, you gotta get yourself a girl

Bucky: Ok.

Sam: Ok? Okayyyyy! I know-

Bucky: Give me your phone

Sam: Oh you got a number in mind already hotshot? *hands phone over*

Bucky: *ring* Hi Sarah ;)

Sam: BOY-

-

Peter: Ned thought you would seperate your colours from your lights but he also thought you'd be homophobic so I don't pay him much mind cuz clearly I'm more of a superhero expert than him but he does have a 2% better average than me in history so like maybe you do hand wash your clothes and that's why I asked what underwear you wear because-

Steve: *listening intently with apprehension and alarm*

Natasha: I can't believe you found the one person on Earth who talks more nonsense than you

Tony: I know right, it's incredibly unnerving. I'm planning on adopting him

-

Peter: Mr. Stark I have to tell you something. I think Vision is a... *whispers* pervert

Tony: Um, why?

Peter: He keeps floating through my room without knocking! He saw me changing, he saw my nipples !

Tony: Well if anyone's a predator here it would be you. I mean showing your nipples to a 2 year old? Deplorable.

Peter:

Peter: Oh god, I'm the pervert...

-

Bucky: Y'know animosity isn't good between teammates. I think we should spend more time together

Sam: Am I being punked right now? Where's the camera

Bucky: I'm serious. I think it would be healthy for us to bond

Sam: Okay fine I'll bite... what did you have in mind

Bucky: Wanna go for a run?

Sam: *slams door in Bucky's face*

-

*staring at Bucky's sparkly clean metal arm*

Bucky: Dishwasher?

Peter: Dishwasher :)

(later that day)

Bucky: I've decided to let the child live

Peter: YoU wHaT?!

-

Thwip

Tony: Who took my coffee cup, It was right here

Thwip

Bruce: Um, has someone seen my book? I just had it

Thwip

Steve: I could've sworn I was holding a pen a moment ago

*giggling from the ceiling*

Tony: Young man I will take those webshooters away if you use them for shenanigans and rascality

Peter, muffled: Mr. Hawkeye told me to!

Clint: Oh so you're just gonna rat me out like that?

Peter: Sor- OOF

*falls out of ceiling vent*

-

Sam: You're in my spot

Bucky: There are no spots, it's a common area

Sam: Well that's my spot

Bucky: Did you buy the chair??

Sam: No, but everyone knows that's where I sit. Right Steve?

Steve: Oops I forgot something in my car, be right back *leaves*

Sam: Still my spot

Bucky: Still not

Sam: *sits on him*

Bucky: WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU ALL THE COUCHES ARE FREE-

Sam: IT'S MY SPOT YOU CAN'T TAKE A MAN'S FAVOURITE CHAIR-

BUCKY: YOU HAVE ISSUES GET OFF ME-

(one hour later)

Steve: Hey so turns out I don't have a car! Isn't that funn...

Sam & Bucky: *Squeezed awkwardly on the chair together*

Steve: I think I left something in my car

-

Steve: Leave the bedroom door open when you have Vision in there

Wanda: UGH you're so protective

Tony: Teenagers, am I right? Caught Pete reassembling my particle accelerator at midnight because he needed to neutralize a miniature nuclear bomb he nabbed off some guy he neglected to tell me was trying to kill him

Steve:

Steve: Wanda y'know what do whatever you want

Wanda: Really?

Steve: Yes just keep being normal. At least I can read about our issues in a parenting book

-

Thor: Ah, new warriors I see! Good to make all your acquaintance. But why are you so grumpy my friend?

Bucky: *glaring*

Peter: He's always like that. It's um, P- P- PMS? Wait -

Natasha: Yes it's PMS

Wanda: He's got it bad

Steve: *genuinely concerned* Bucky you didn't tell me something was wrong. What can I do to help?

Bucky:

Bucky: I like chocolate

-

Wanda: Welcome to the first annual girls night! This place reeks of men, so I thought we needed some women time

Pepper: Why is Vision here?

Wanda: I get sad when he's gone

Natasha: Why is Pietro here?

Pietro: Slay queens

Wanda: Moral support I think

Maria: Why is Peter here?

Wanda: He looked really upset when I said he wasn't included and I felt bad

Wanda: Anyways... yay girls! Who wants me to paint their nails?

Peter: ME ME ME

-

Steve: Pancakes or waffles?

Natasha: Pancakes

Steve: Good because I don't have a waffle maker

Natasha: Then why would you ask-

Steve: It's important for your voice to be heard, as team leader I value your opinion

*2 minutes later*

Steve: Good morning Clint, pancakes or waffles?

Clint: Waffles

Steve: Oh no.

-

Some of these were based on requests (ex. more Sam & Bucky, dad Steve w/ Wanda) so if you have certain dynamics you enjoy let me know !

[emmaspolaroid]

so I guess I convinced myself living with my bf’s family wasn’t too bad - because I would 100000% rather live with them than with my family - but the other day we were talking and he was like listing all the things that were rough ab the situation and I was like okay yeah maybe my nervous breakdown was actually kinda justified and I wasn’t being a sensitive baby lol

anyway we have to go over there tonight to do laundry and spend an obligatory amount of family time there and I’m like… really dreading it tbh haha

[roosterforme]

Do You Wanna Touch Me? | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You had been working at the bar for six months. And you'd been crushing on Rooster since the first night he handed you his credit card, called you Babydoll, and asked you to start a tab for him. And it only got worse from there, until one night you asked him about more than just his drink order.

Warnings: Fluff, swearing, age gap, and smut

Length: 5800 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

This was written for my Top Gun Rocktober playlist! Check out my masterlist for more!

"Oh, my god," you whined softly, drying and polishing the rack of pint glasses in front of you as Rooster Bradshaw came strolling into the bar. "Fuck me," you sighed, barely able to keep your eyes off him as you fumbled one of the glasses.

"Yeah, you'd like that," Lizzy said with a laugh as she cut up some lemons before the Friday evening rush.

You didn't even know you spoke out loud. That's how much of a ridiculous crush you had on that big, sexy man. But he strolled right past you on his way to the pool table, barely even sparing a smile in your direction. 

"I really would," you told her, watching the flex of his bicep as he high fived Hangman. It wasn't like your coworkers didn't know you had a thing for Rooster. You'd been working here for six months, and you'd been crushing on him since the first night he handed you his credit card, called you Babydoll, and asked you to start a tab for him. And it only got worse from there.

He still occasionally called you Babydoll. He never called Lizzy or Jasmine by a pet name. Just you. And you held onto that little glimmer of hope that it meant something. That maybe one day, he'd look at you as more than just one of the bartenders.

"What's wrong with you?" Jas asked, waving a hand in front of your face. But then she looked where you were staring, and she asked no further questions. "Oh. Rooster's here."

"He sure is," you added, forcing yourself to focus on the customer in front of you who looked impatient for a drink. As you finished pouring him some tequila shots, you looked up eagerly, and Rooster met your eyes. It had been a solid week since you'd seen him, and he just always looked so good.

You pushed the shot glasses across the bar and collected payment, trying to stay as cool as you could. Because Rooster was heading your way now in his snug vintage wash jeans and bright tropical shirt. 

"Hey, Babydoll," he rasped, and your whole body clenched with need as your eyes fluttered closed. When you met his gaze again, he was leaning on the bar, closing in on your personal space. 

"Hey, Rooster," you replied, sounding a lot calmer than you felt. When he smirked and looked down at your shirt, your heart pounded even harder. Your name was embroidered on your Hard Deck top, just above your breast. He knew your name, but he always called you Babydoll anyway. So was he just simply staring at your tits?

He cleared his throat and asked, "Get me a beer? Please?" 

"Am I starting a tab?" you asked, reaching for one of the pint glasses you'd just finished cleaning. He responded by humming and sliding his credit card across the bar. He held eye contact with you while you expertly pulled the perfect pint of his preferred beer. The way his lips parted in a soft smile that matched yours, the twitch of his mustache...it all felt like foreplay that had been going on for months.

"Thanks," he muttered when your fingers brushed against his. He winked at you before turning back to the pool table, leaving you with his credit card and a desperate need inside of you.

As you set up his tab, Jasmine ran her hand along your lower back so you wouldn't bump her as she walked behind you. "Why don't you just invite him to join you in the bathroom and fuck him out of your system?" she joked. 

"Because," you sighed, "that would only make me pine harder. Getting a small taste of him would be worse than nothing at all."

"Oof," Lizzy replied. "You're a mess over Bradshaw."

"I wonder how old he is?" Jas asked.

You hummed and shrugged, watching him drink his beer across the room while you shook a vodka martini. "Gotta be at least thirty five."

"Ask him," Lizzy said. "Next time he comes over, ask him how old he is."

Your cheeks were warming up. He was bending at the waist, playing pool, and you were taking way too long to serve this martini. "No. What if he thinks I'm being rude? Or worse...what if he catches on that I like him, and he shuts it all down."

"Fine," Jas said, uncapping some ciders. "Next time Rooster comes up, I'll wait on him."

But that really didn't sit well with you. Rooster always came to you for his drinks, anytime he could. You liked that about him. You liked his attention. Jas wouldn't pour his pints quite as well as you could. You knew so well how much foam to let spill and how close to the top of the glass you could get. You loved pulling those pints of lager for him. And you loved pouring him bourbon when he asked for that instead. You knew which brand and that he liked it neat. You didn't have to ask. He didn't have to tell you.

No, you should always be the one to wait on him. And when he finished his pint and strolled back up to the bar after Phoenix beat him at pool, you stepped in front of Jasmine. "I got it," you said confidently, and Jas walked away chuckling. This time Rooster eased himself down onto an empty stool between two women who looked at him like they'd just won the lottery. But his eyes were on you. 

"Lager or bourbon?" you asked, and you were rewarded with those perfect, white teeth and his deep laughter. 

"You got everyone's regular drinks memorized?" he asked as you reached for his empty glass. But he didn't let you take it. He kept one hand on the glass for a few beats while your fingers met his. 

He was making you feel bold tonight. He was even more gorgeous up close like this, with a few gray hairs at his temples and some laugh lines around his eyes. His eyebrows shot up, and his smile faltered when you said, "No, Rooster. Not everybody's regular drinks. Only the hottest guys. Lager or bourbon?"

He grunted and swallowed hard. "Dealer's choice." Then he finally let you take the empty glass, and it was a good thing, too, because you needed to turn away from him. You took a few extra seconds to reach for the bottle of Wild Turkey. Your nipples were hard, your skin felt like it was on fire, and you were turned on just talking to him.

When you turned back to face him, his gaze was neutral again. You uncapped the bourbon and poured it for him, neat. 

"Thanks," he murmured, moving like he was standing to leave. 

And then your mouth worked before your brain, and you said, "Anytime, Sexy."

You watched him pause halfway out of his seat, his eyes dipping down to watch you nervously lick your lips. If he left for the pool table, you really were going to have to let Jasmine wait on him next time. Embarrassment flooded your veins, leaving you uncomfortable with a sheen of cold sweat on your neck. But he eased himself back down onto the stool and kept his eyes on you. "Alright. Babydoll."

You laughed softly, pulling out some glasses for the woman who wanted two cosmos. Rooster sipped his bourbon and kept his focus on your face and your body. He grunted as you took a shaker in each hand, and as you poured them out at the same time, he asked, "What's your favorite drink?"

He was hyper focused on you now, leaning in just the slightest bit further as you served both pink drinks. "To have or to make?" you asked, taking more orders.

"Both. I want you to tell me both."

You smiled at him, and he matched it right away. "Nothing is more fun to make than an expertly crafted Bloody Mary, but those are best as breakfast cocktails."

He nodded, accepting your answer, and then he asked, "And what do you order when you go out?"

You shrugged. "I don't often get to have someone make my drinks for me, but when I do, I usually order a Manhattan."

"A Manhattan?" he asked, balking at your answer. "How fuckin' old are you, Babydoll? People in their seventies drink those things!"

"I'm twenty three," you told him, laughing so hard you were doubled over. He looked delighted when you were finally able to stand up straight again. Your smile was still bright as you leaned on the bar until you were only two feet from his face and softly asked, "How old are you?"

The song on the jukebox changed as Rooster rubbed his mustache and said, "I'm a lot older than you are." His little self deprecating laugh just made you want to get closer to him. He looked amused by you and also resigned to the fact that he thought his age was something you wouldn't like about him.

"How old?" you asked again, biting your lip. 

His brown eyes found your mouth, and you thought for a moment that he was going to kiss you. Oh god, you wanted him to, so badly. "I'm thirty eight."

You hummed softly as Phoenix came to stand next to him, and you started to get her favorite kind of beer ready. 

"You coming back to the pool table?" she asked Rooster, but he just grunted something about needing to finish his bourbon first. When you handed Phoenix her drink, Rooster told you to put it on his tab, and he looked relieved when she walked away.

"Thirty eight," you said, watching him down the remainder of the drink in his glass. "That's why you're so good at flirting? You've had time to practice?"

He coughed a little bit as he set his empty glass down on the bar top. "Babydoll, I'm fifteen years older than you."

"So?" you asked, pulling another perfect pint for him. "You don't want to flirt with me?"

"Now wait, that's not what I'm saying at all. Just surprised you don't want to flirt with someone your own age."

"I don't like boys my age," you told him fearlessly. "I like men."

"Oh, hell," he groaned, taking a long sip of his fresh beer. "Just look at you. You're gonna get yourself in trouble if you don't find a nice guy."

He looked flustered now. You were making Lieutenant Bradshaw flustered. His cheeks were pink, and he kept sipping his beer, avoiding your gaze. He looked adorable and boyish, and you didn't know quite what to do about this. Or about the fact that talking to him was making you wet. 

"Hmmm," you hummed, and his eyes met yours immediately. "Are you a nice guy?"

"Fuck," he groaned, adjusting himself in his seat. "Sometimes."

"You're always pretty sweet to me," you whispered. "What's it like when you're not a nice guy, Rooster?"

You wanted to touch him for more than a few fleeting seconds. After six months, you thought you were going to. His long, thick fingers were just resting there in front of you. But then Fanboy came to the bar and asked you to close out his tab. And then you had to help Lizzy pour a massive round of shots. And then when Rooster asked you to close out his tab as well, you did it with a pout on your lips. 

As you slid his credit card, the slip he needed to sign, and a pen across the bar, he smiled at you. "Aww, come on. Don't give me that look. You know how it is."

"I don't, actually," you replied, watching him sign the credit card receipt for you. "How is it?"

He looked up and studied your face. "You're too perfect to mess with, Babydoll. Too young. Too pretty to touch."

You chewed on your lip and squeezed your thighs together. You had to know. Your voice was soft and unsure as you asked him, "Do you wanna touch me?"

He didn't meet your eyes again as he scribbled on the receipt and then left it and the pen for you to collect. He stood up from his stool, gave a quick salute to his friends and then headed for the door. 

You moaned helplessly. You blew it. He thought you were just a kid, and you never stood a chance. And now he'd probably never even look at you again. 

But when you picked up the receipt, you read one word written there under his name. YES.

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

When you strolled into the bar the next evening, you got right to work. You had no idea if Rooster would show up, and you weren't sure if you even wanted to see him or not. You'd torn off the bottom of his credit card slip and taken it home with you. That little scrap of paper on which he'd admitted he wanted to touch you was hanging on your bedroom mirror. But it was the fact that he was probably never going to touch you, even though he was more than welcome to, that was making you frustrated. 

"What's wrong with you?" Lizzy asked as she arrived a minute later. "You look hot."

You glanced down at your Hard Deck top, denim skirt and beat up sneakers. "I look the same as I always do," you told her, continuing to dump buckets of ice into the cooler behind the bar. 

"Maybe it's your makeup," she replied. "I think you're hoping Rooster comes in tonight."

You rolled your eyes. "I always hope he's going to be here. He's pretty. I like looking at him."

"I'm not going to dispute that," Lizzy said as she cut up the lemons again tonight. "But I think you actually like him. Not just the way he looks."

You didn't respond, because it didn't matter. You'd keep the flirtation to a minimum the next time you saw him. The last thing you wanted to do was make him think you were desperate. He wanted to touch you? He could go right ahead. But you weren't about to beg him to.

As the bar got crowded, Jasmine showed up as well. The three of you got into a nice rhythm. A lot of the aviators were back again tonight, and you were serving them drink after drink. And then it was like you knew he was there before you saw him. After you handed a couple their drinks, your eyes automatically shifted toward the doorway, finding it filled with Rooster's big body. And he was already looking at you. 

"You want me to wait on him?" Lizzy asked you softly as Rooster approached the bar. 

But you just shook your head and reached for two different glasses, holding them up as he took a seat in front of you. When he pointed to the pint glass, he said, "Lager. Please."

"Sure," you replied, setting the smaller glass aside and pulling a perfect pint of beer for him. "Start a tab?"

"Nah, I'm not staying long tonight," he told you as you placed the beer in front of him without meeting his gaze. "Just wanted to see you and get one drink."

"Mmkay," you said. But when you pulled your hand away, he reached for it. 

Stunned, you let him take your hand in his large one, and then he asked, "Does this mean you're done flirting with the old man now? You got it all out of your system yesterday?" His eyes were guarded, cautious, and he held onto your hand, expecting an answer. 

You shook your head slowly, running your fingertips along his rough calluses. "I was just getting started."

A crooked little smile danced across his lips. "I am too old for you, Babydoll. And it's a shame."

Your heart jumped in your chest, hand still tangled up with his on the bar top. You could hear Lizzy and Jasmine working extra hard to take all the orders, trying to give you a moment here. So you smiled back. "You think you're old. So what? You expect me to call you Daddy?"

"Shit," he grunted, squirming a bit in his seat but keeping your hand in his.

When he didn't respond right away, you leaned a little closer, one eyebrow raised. "I asked you a question."

His eyes were wide, and that little grin was back. "I could be a... Daddy. Maybe for the right girl."

You pulled your hand free of his and planted both palms on the bar top and leaned closer to him. "And just how is a girl supposed to know if she's the right one?"

But his cheeks were tinged with pink once again, and he looked flustered. It was flattering, such an ego boost. You were the one who made him like this. But he wasn't responding now, and you needed to help Jas pour some chardonnay for the impatient ladies at the end of the bar. You sighed and said, "Well, I work until eleven. So just think on it."

But he wouldn't let you leave. Rooster reached for your hand again, but this time he was the one leaning closer. "The right girl would be one that I can't seem to stay away from. You said you work until eleven?"

"Yes," you replied softly, his large hand completely covering yours on the bar top.

"Right. Then ask me again if I want to start a tab."

You pressed your lips together, trying not to giggle. "Would you like to start a tab, Rooster?"

"You're damn right I would, Babydoll. I can't get enough of you. Think I'll just hang here until eleven. If that's okay with you."

This time you did giggle. "Yeah. That's okay with me." As he pulled his wallet out and handed you his credit card, you asked, "Bourbon or lager?"

"Make it a Manhattan."

"I've been told these drinks are for people in their seventies," you said with a straight face as you reached for the vermouth, secretly pleased he wanted your favorite. "You're only thirty eight."

"Listen," he said, watching you fix his drink. "You said you don't like boys your own age. And maybe I'm a little older than you, but all the parts are still in working order."

You felt giddy. When you set the glass down in front of him, you couldn't help but ask, "Does that mean you'll let me take you for a test drive?" 

You had to work to keep an innocent expression on your face as Bradley's blush deepened. He took a sip of his Manhattan, licked his lips and said, "I don't do test drives anymore."

"Oh," you said with a little pout. "You don't?"

"No," he replied a bit cautiously, taking another sip of his cocktail. "I'm getting too old for that. I like at least a little bit of commitment from the driver. Don't wanna feel like I'll get dinged up."

You shivered at his words, mesmerized by his voice and his demeanor as he looked down into his glass. Could you do more than a test drive? Of course you'd thought about it. You were crushing so hard, you'd imagined what it would be like if he was your boyfriend. But you'd barely even let yourself hope for a one night stand. Even that much seemed too good to be true.

"Oh," you said again in a softer tone. When he glanced up, his dark eyes were no longer guarded, and he was looking at you warily. Without giving it much thought, you pushed up onto the bar and leaned until he met you halfway in a kiss. It was just the softest brush of your lips against his. But the sound he made and the prickle of his mustache on your skin left you wide eyed and out of breath as you eased yourself back down. "No. You're too handsome to get all dinged up. I'm a great driver."

"Yeah," he said with a little laugh. "I can already tell. And that's what I was afraid of last night. There's just something about you, isn't there?"

"You have a thing for me?" you asked him, gripping the edge of the bar top. "Because I definitely have a thing for you." You had stopped breathing now, and your heart was pounding in your ears. 

With a little grin, he said, "Yeah, I do, Babydoll."

"Well, what are we going to do about it, Daddy?" you asked with another giggle as Jasmine thrust a bottle of prosecco into your hands. 

"We're going to go out my Bronco the minute your shift is over. We'll figure it out there." 

You nearly dropped the bottle when you met his eyes. "A quickie?" you asked softly, but you were sure he heard you.

"No," he groaned, running his big palm along his mouth and shaking his head at you. Then he finished the rest of his Manhattan in one gulp and pushed the glass your way. "Nothing about this is gonna be quick. I'd like to take my time, especially with someone as perfect as you."

You sounded like a feral animal, thighs clenched together and gripping the bottle of prosecco with both hands. 

"Shit," Rooster grunted. "You're making it hard to just sit here, Babydoll."

"Hard?" you asked with a grin. 

"You'll find out."

After another embarrassing noise, you had to excuse yourself to the other end of the bar for a few minutes. Jesus, you needed to keep your job, after all. But his eyes followed you everywhere. Any time you looked his way, he was transfixed on you. When you pulled a pint of lager and set it down for him, he whispered, "Thanks, Babydoll," sending shivers along your skin again. 

"Anything else you want, Rooster?" you asked him sweetly. 

His gaze dipped down to your chest before returning to your face. "Nothing I'm allowed to have inside the bar."

"At least not when we're open to the public, sir," you replied, giving him a little salute that had him reaching for you across the bar. But you managed to skirt away from his grasp with another laugh. 

"You coming back over here?" he asked between sips of his beer. "I didn't get a chance to ask you if you'll make me a Bloody Mary for breakfast tomorrow morning."

"Breakfast?"

"Yeah. Breakfast," he confirmed with a smile. "At my place?"

You pressed your lips together to keep from screaming. "So since this isn't a test drive, what are my options, exactly? Am I looking at a lease? A financing package?"

"I'm sure you'll know what you want to do when the time comes. And I'm going to need you to stop saying package right now."

"Just go," Jasmine told you suddenly. "It's after ten, and you're useless. You and he have had hours of foreplay already. Go."

"Are you sure?" you asked, already reaching for your bag and Rooster's credit card.

"Yes," Lizzy confirmed. Then she looked at Rooster who was already standing up and told him, "Pay your tab next week. And get her out of here."

"My pleasure," he rasped, and you practically ran for the opening in the bar, ducking underneath the counter. And when you stood up again, he was right there. He was so tall and broad, and with a coy smile, you slipped his credit card into the pocket of his jeans. When your fingers trailed closer to his zipper, he grabbed your wrist gently. 

"Just checking for myself to make sure all the parts are working," you mused as he raised your hand up to his lips and kissed your knuckles gently. In the middle of the crowded bar. Then he wrapped your fingers around the back of his neck, and you pulled him down for a kiss. 

He kept it pretty clean as he promised, "Wait until we get outside."

"Now," you demanded, pulling him along behind you by his shirt collar. As soon as the cool, night air met your hot skin, he had your bare thighs in his hands, and your back was pressed against the side of the building. "Oh my god," you gasped. Your body was pinned between the siding and Rooster, and the rough denim of his jeans was rubbing you deliciously through your underwear. 

"I told you I'm not going to rush," he whispered, pressing into you as you held onto his shoulders. He teased you with that delicious mustache and his lips on your neck before he kissed your ear and said, "Now, I'm gonna need verbal confirmation, Babydoll."

"Yes!" you nearly shouted. "Everything!"

He chuckled next to your ear and asked, "You wanna fuck in my Bronco?"

"Yes," you moaned so loudly, you were sure Jasmine and Lizzy could hear you. 

"I don't have any condoms with me," he said, looking you in the eye. "Do we need them?"

"No, I'm clean, and I take the pill," you said, leaning in to kiss his lips. He tasted you, running the tip of his tongue along yours before pulling his lips away. 

You whined for him, but he was undeterred. "I need you to tell me that you'll come home with me and make me that Bloody Mary in the morning while I make you breakfast."

He already wanted you to sleep over with him. He wanted to make you breakfast. He didn't want to have a one night stand. He was waiting for an answer. "You'll have to let me know if you want it traditional or extra spicy."

"Fuck," he grunted before his lips came crashing against yours. His big hands held your thighs wide as he rolled his hips gently against you. 

"Rooster," you moaned against his lips as he let you gently slide down his body until your feet hit the ground. 

"Please call me Bradley," he whispered as he wrapped his hand around your waist and quickly guided you across the dark parking lot. 

When you saw the Bronco, you ran the last little bit hand in hand. His laughter mixed with yours as he unlocked the door. "Come on, Bradley," you sang, looking up at him over your shoulder before climbing up onto the driver's seat on your hands and knees. "Do you wanna touch me?"

"Babydoll," he moaned, keeping you still as he guided your skirt up over your butt and around your waist. You cried out as he kissed the backs of your thighs. He slipped his fingers inside the thin strips of lace fabric that made up your thong, and you couldn't ever remember being this turned on before. 

"Bradley!" you gasped loudly when his lips and tongue met the globe of your rear end. He slid the lace to one side and kissed your slit from behind until you were panting. You might cum. You might actually have an orgasm on your hands and knees with your ass in his face. Boys your own age couldn't get you like this no matter what they did.

He gently swatted at you before palming your ass and saying, "Get in the backseat."

Oh yes. He was about to show you what else his age and experience had to offer, and you were already shaking with need. "Yes, sir," you whispered, and you heard him mutter a string of obscenities as you scrambled onto the backseat. As he slid the driver's seat forward and climbed in the back, you carefully pulled your underwear down your thighs. He helped you and then pressed the lace to his nose before pulling you onto his lap. 

"I've thought about this so many times when I touched myself," you blurted out as he teased your clit with his thumb. "Bronco sex," you whined, head tipped back, enjoying the perfect pressure he applied to your body. "Bronco sex with Bradley Bradshaw."

"Forgive me, Babydoll," he whispered, voice harsh. "But last night was the first time I jerked off thinking about you. Too afraid to go there before that, thinking there was no way in hell you'd want me."

"I want you," you swore, meeting his eyes in the near darkness. If anyone else was out in the parking lot, you couldn't see them. And you didn't care if they could see you, because he was slipping one thick finger inside you. "Wanted you for so long. Months and months."

"Jesus, you're tight," he groaned, sliding your snug top up to your chest as you rode his hand. "And you skipped a bra tonight like a good girl."

"Bradley," you gasped as he cupped your bare breast in his big hand. He lazily swirled his thumb around your nipple before bending to take you into his mouth. "Oh my god!" 

Your orgasm was already building. You had only been in the backseat with him for a few minutes, and he was still fully clothed. But now you were riding two fingers, and his thumb was delicious against your clit. As he licked and sucked on your breast, you started to clench. 

"Damn," he muttered against your body. "Already?"

You just nodded before guiding his lips up to yours, and you came as you moaned loudly against his mouth. "Bradley." You raked your fingers up into his hair and kissed him. He was hard through his jeans, and when he withdrew his fingers, you felt them trail up your body. 

"You're so pretty," he whispered, pulling your top over your head. "You'll look even better in my bed."

You wanted him to fuck you here first, but you'd be lying if you said you hadn't already thought about his place and what he might make you for breakfast. And as you sat straddled his hips in nothing but your skirt up around your waist and your sneakers on your feet, you felt adored by him. He was kissing a trail down between your breasts and rubbing his thumbs along your thighs. 

"Bradley," you whined, rubbing your pussy against his jeans, already feeling a little wrung out. "Please."

The street light at the corner reflected in his eyes, letting you know he was looking at your face as he raised his hips and unzipped his jeans. And a few seconds later, they were down around his knees along with his underwear. Your lips met his as you felt the velvety soft tip of his cock resting against your core. As you kissed him and tugged on his hair, he throbbed for you. And suddenly you weren't in such a hurry either. 

"Let me make you feel good," he whispered, and as you slid down around him, Bradley guided you with his hands on your hips. "You're so wet, my god."

"You always make me wet, even when you just talk to me at the bar," you admitted softly, your voice shaking as he kept pushing deeper inside you. "Oh. You're huge."

"Am I hurting you?" he asked, pausing where he was. But you just shook your head and rolled your hips slowly until he was completely inside you. He kissed you softly as you gasped and got used to him. "I don't wanna hurt this sweet pussy," he whispered next to your ear. "Perfect."

And then he brushed his knuckles along your clit and leaned his head back, watching as you rode him. "Take it off," you gasped, and he let you push his shirt down his arms and pull his tank over his head. You explored his broad chest with your hands and his shoulders with your lips. He was warm and rough and oh so sweet. His chest hairs brushed against your nipples as he guided your hips with his hands.

"Bradley?"

"Hmm?" 

You wrapped your hands around his neck and kissed his lips. "Fuck. So good." He felt delicious, his big hands everywhere, sliding up to span your back and keep you close. He fucked you in long, fluid movements that just got faster and faster. His pubes were coarse against your clit. His little grunts and words of praise kept you going as you started squeezing around his cock.

"Don't stop, Babydoll," he coaxed as you got closer. When his lips met your sweat slick chest again, and he pulled your nipple between his teeth, you came for him.

"Oh!" 

As your legs shook and your fingers went loose in his hair, Bradley fucked up into you until you were screaming his name. 

"Good girl," he grunted, and suddenly you were on your back along the seat with your legs spread wide. He fucked you with long, hard strokes that made your tits bounce and prolonged your orgasm. His lips were everywhere, and you were surrounded by his voice in the dark, holding onto his biceps as he came inside you.

You scrambled to get your mouth on his as you both caught your breath together, and as your heartbeat started to return to normal, you pressed a dozen soft kisses to his lips, one after the next. "Will you take me home?"

His hands stilled on your thigh and your neck. "Yeah," he said with a tone of sadness. "I can drop you off at home."

When he started pulling away without so much as another kiss, you reached for him, keeping him firmly inside you. "No, no. Take me home with you, Bradley."

"My place?" His voice was still soft, but it sounded hopeful now.

"Of course," you reassured him, and his kisses returned. "I'll spend the whole morning tomorrow making you Bloody Marys with little heart shaped garnishes."

He smiled against your lips before he said, "I'd like that, Babydoll."

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

The Hard Deck was pretty busy the following evening, and you were so physically exhausted from your night with Bradley, you could barely keep up. The Sunday crowd was keeping you on your toes, and Jasmine wouldn't stop asking you how your night ended. 

"Did you go home with him? You did. I can tell," she said as you just shrugged at all of her questions. "Are you going to see him again? Come on! Tell me!"

When you saw movement on the other side of the bar top, Jasmine's eyes went wide. "Hey, babydoll." The deep rumble of his voice was so distinct, you didn't need to look at him to know it was Bradley. He had whispered dirty, sweet things in your ears all night and all morning. You knew the sound of his voice by heart now.

When your eyes met his, you reached for a pint glass and filled it with his favorite beer. "Hey, Bradley. Wanna start a tab?" you asked with a soft smile.

You giggled as he reached for your hand and tugged you closer. Then he leaned across the bar and kissed you as his nose brushed against yours. "For you? Always. And don't close the tab until your shift ends."

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

No more test drives. I'm sure she's already considering her options to make him hers permanently. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls and @mak-32. Also, the pretty banner was made by Mak!

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[kkvqwrites]

Bedside Manner

Reader goes into labor while Simon's away and calls the first person she can think of. The task force (and some other friends in high places) rally around the couple on the most important day of their lives.

Word Count: 2,587

Characters (in order of appearance): fem!Reader (no use of y/n), Capt. John Price, Kyle "Gaz" Garrick, Simon "Ghost" Riley, Johnny "Soap" MacTavish, Kate Laswell

CW: childbirth, hospital setting, medical procedures

A/N: Am I a Ghost girlie? Absolutely. Am I also a sucker for the found family trope? Til I die. This idea wouldn't leave me alone and I'm so glad I stuck with it. I love the way this came out and hope you like it!

"Dear? Everything okay?"

The captain's voice on the other end of the line sounded worried. Both he and Simon had drilled it into you to never hesitate to call Price if you needed anything while your husband was away, but you couldn't help feeling a bit guilty.

"Um, I think so," you began, willing your voice to stay level and upbeat. "I think I just - oof.." Another contraction hit, stealing the air from your lungs. They were coming more consistently now, and hard enough to stop you in your tracks.

This could not be happening.

"What's wrong? Are you alright? Are you hurt?" You could hear movement in the background, him gathering his things to be out the door and on his way to you.

"I'm fine, John. I just didn't know who else to call. I think the baby might be coming?" The words came out pinched as you worked through the tail end of the contraction. The captain swore loudly.

"Stay put, love. I'm on the way - everything will be alright. Want me to stay on the phone with you?"

"No, no, that's fine. Stay safe and I'll see you when you get here." You hung up before he could argue and fuss like a mother hen.

______________________________________________________________

The knock at the door startled you. You looked at the clock - surely that couldn't be John already. The man lived across town. Not trusting yourself to make it to the door, you called out.

"It's open!"

Turns out it wasn't Price, but Gaz, who stepped into your living room and began taking in the scene. It was a sight to be sure: you, doubled over sitting on your yoga ball, rocking back and forth to try to alleviate some of the pressure in your hips, towel around your neck because you were sweating like a pig, ambient white noise filtering through the bluetooth speaker to keep you calm. For all his usual swagger and poise, Gaz looked a bit frightened.

"Kyle, did John call you? I'm so sorry - I'm sure you were busy-"

"Not at all, I rushed over as soon as I got word." The sergeant came to your side and knelt until he was eye level. "The captain's on his way but I was closer. We didn't want you to be alone any longer than necessary."

"You and your task force are worse than a quilting circle." The jab came with a joking smile, but the smile was cut short by the stab of another contraction. At the sight of your face screwing up in pain, Kyle's eyes got big.

"Can I do something? Do you need anything?" He wrung his hands as he fussed, seemingly unsure whether to touch you or whether you'd bite him if he tried. Admittedly, you weren't too sure yourself.

"Need you to reset - the timer." The words came out through clenched teeth as your muscles tensed and screamed. "Contractions - need to time them."

"The timer - right." He sprung into action, undoubtedly happy to have a defined task to accomplish. As he was fiddling with the device, Price stormed through the door, his demeanor all-business.

"Gaz? What's the situation?" The sergeant hopped to attention as if he was at roll call.

"Got here not long ago myself, Cap. Just reset the timer for contractions."

"Where are we at?"

"Thirteen minutes, sir."

The captain turned to you, assessing you from top to bottom. His expression and his voice softened considerably as he spoke.

"Ready to get to the hospital, love?"

"Can't - they told me to wait until they're five minutes apart." The man looked bewildered.

"And just let you sit here and suffer? Not on my watch. Gaz, grab my keys - "

"John," you interrupted. "I already called. They won't admit me yet. We just need to wait it out."

"Nonsense, love. You wait til I get someone's ear over there. Five minutes my arse." He moved to help you stand, but stopped in his tracks as he took in your face, your lip trembling. "Is there something else?" As if on cue, a fat tear rolled down your cheek, the first of its kind since the pains began.

"This isn't supposed to be happening," you squeaked out. "Not for a few more weeks. Simon's supposed to be here."

The men shared a glance, looking stricken. Price leaned down next to you, a broad hand gently squeezing your shoulder. His voice was soft when he spoke, a renewed slowness replacing his prior rushed pace.

"I know, love. I know it's not ideal, and I know you're scared. I know Simon would give anything to be here, that he'd split heaven and earth to be with you right now. But I also know he'd want you and your little one taken care of, yeah? He wouldn't want you to wait."

You nodded, despite more tears threatening. "Doesn't change the fact they won't admit me yet."

The captain's mouth quirked defiantly. "You let me worry about that. Gaz, help her up. I'll drive."

______________________________________________________________

Simon was tired down to his bones, feeling like a wrung out rag after the most recent mission. Despite that, the man was a ball of energy as he hopped off the plane, desperate to get back to you.

"Someone's antsy," Soap drawled, taking a more leisurely pace. He slid his sunglasses on as Simon switched on his cell phone anxiously. "Got somewhere to be, LT?"

"'Matter of fact I do - home." Simon impatiently hiked his duffel bag higher on his shoulder. "See my wife, eat a real meal. Finally build that godforsaken changing table. Who knew a baby needs so much furniture?"

Soap barked a laugh, but Simon tuned him out as he put his phone to his ear. He'd gotten a voicemail from you, and everything else ceased to matter.

"Hey babe, it's me. I'm not sure when you'll get this, and I hate to worry you. I'm sure it's fine. It's just... I've been feeling some contractions-"

Simon didn't hear the rest, nearly dropping his phone as he broke into a run.

______________________________________________________________

True to his word, Price argued with the hospital staff until you were taken up to a room. You were sure he must have pulled rank, threatened to call people, but he refused to let you worry about it.

The ride had been smooth, despite John driving like a bat out of hell. Gaz stayed in the back seat with you, clinging to your hand and fussing. Later, you'd think it was funny how he seemed to need more encouragement and support than he offered, but at that moment very little was funny.

You had been able to stay in denial for an admirably long time. The past few days, you were able to tell yourself it was just Braxton-Hicks contractions, not the real thing. That even when it became evident the real thing was starting, that it wouldn't progress quickly. That even though it was progressing, that Simon would walk in the door just at the right moment and sweep you into the car and off to the hospital and all would be well. Even when your gut told you to pick up the phone and call the captain, you had managed to make yourself believe that you were wrong, that it was a false alarm, that you still had more time.

Now, here you were, connected to monitors and being poked and prodded by nurses. Medical history, allergies, birth plan, you felt like you were in interrogation rather than a patient receiving care. And if it wasn't the nurses it was the two men standing off to the side, one wringing his hands in worry and one watching the nurses like a hawk and barking questions. The contractions were closer to eight minutes apart now, progressing quickly. Now the situation was very real, and as thankful as you were from the support from Price and Gaz, your heart threatened to shatter at the absence of the one person who mattered most.

______________________________________________________________

"Bloody fuckin' hell, no one will answer their phone!" Ghost barked, ready to throw his out the window. He'd had radio silence other than a second voicemail, this one from the Captain:

"Simon, Price here. Just got word from the missus that the baby's on the way. I'm headed there now. I don't want you to worry about a thing, I won't leave her side. I'll update you as I'm able."

"She knew to call the captain; he's probably with her now," Soap offered from the driver's seat. He'd practically had to arm wrestle Simon for the keys, but ended up convincing him that he'd be able to call for updates if he wasn't worried about driving. Silently, he thanked the saints Simon had agreed; who knows what carnage he'd unleash on the roads as worked up as he was.

"He better be, or I'll - not now, Laswell!" Simon rejected the third call from the station chief since landing and tried Price again. He was sure he'd hear about it for skipping debrief and jumping in the car, but right now he couldn't bring himself to give a shit. When Price's phone again went to voicemail, he was about to go nuclear when the car's Bluetooth lit up with Laswell's number.

"Shite; let me answer it LT." Soap pushed the button. "Laswell, it's Soap. Here with Ghost."

"I know," she said impatiently, her voice filling the space. "I've been trying to call all afternoon. I know what's happening and I'm here to help."

"What? How do you know?"

"Price called me as soon as he got word, asked me to find you. Anyway, you're wasting time heading in that direction; there's a lane closure ahead and you're about to be neck deep in traffic. I've mapped an alternate route for you. Take the next left."

The two men looked at each other in confusion before both starting to speak at the same time.

"Left? That takes us the wrong way-" "How do you know where we're at?"

"Boys! Boys, listen," she continued, exasperated. "Don't worry about how I know, just do as I say. We're gonna get you there as fast as possible. Now turn left!"

Soap cut the car to the left, ignoring the indignant honks of other drivers as he began to cut through the city under Laswell's watchful eye.

______________________________________________________________

"The doctor says you'll be ready to start pushing soon. How are you feeling?" The nurse was genuinely trying to be nice, so you bit back on your retort of how the fuck does it look like I'm feeling? My insides are exploding! and instead chose a weak smile and a head nod.

Once the nurse whisked away, Price was back at your side. You could tell by his expression he wanted to give you a pep talk like you were one of his soldiers about to head into battle, but he was searching for the right thing to say. You broke the silence first.

"I'm scared." Your voice sounded small, the words escaping almost of their own volition. The captain took your hand, blessedly avoiding sugarcoating the situation.

"I know. But you're doing great - a real trooper. Even with the needle in the back! Simon's gonna be so proud of you, love. And Gaz and I are gonna be right here. Right Gaz?"

"Right, Cap." The sergeant slid back into the room, cup of ice in hand. While the captain had taken point and begun advocating for you with the hospital staff and asking a million questions, Gaz had been dutifully making sure you were comfortable. Anything from getting you an extra pillow for your back, to helping you tie your hair back, to getting you ice chips since you couldn't have food or drink during labor, he was on it. If either man was uneasy about what was about to happen, they dutifully kept it under wraps and maintained their game faces.

One by one, the care team took up positions around you to get started. Price and Gaz got next to you, each taking one of your hands, ready to offer what support they could. You shamed yourself, one last time, for being ungrateful for their presence. A lot of people give birth with less, you tried to tell yourself. He’d be here if he could. 

 The doctor walked in, donning gloves and getting a quick status update from one of the nurses before meeting your eyes. “Evening, ma’am. We’re going to-” 

Her words were cut off by a commotion in the hall, a door slamming and what sounded like some raised voices. Everyone in the room exchanged confused glances, and Price motioned for Gaz to go investigate. He poked his head out into the hall for only a moment before returning with a big grin.

“You’re not gonna believe who’s here."

Then your husband was in the doorway, and then he was at your side, and suddenly those honey brown eyes drowned out every ounce of pain and fear you’d been holding onto, and that warm, calloused hand took yours, and you were ready.

______________________________________________________________

You would have thought it would be difficult to fall asleep under fluorescent lights, with monitors beeping and staff bustling around. But you had never known tiredness like this, and wanted to take the nurse’s advice and rest while the pain meds were still working their magic. The delivery had been uneventful once the show was on the road, and Simon never left your side, his steady presence grounding and his voice in your ear keeping you calm. Then there she was, a baby girl, the most precious tiny thing you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d stared at her and cried for hours, stroking her tiny hand and welcoming her to the world until you could barely keep your eyes open. And so, with a squeeze of your hand and a kiss on your forehead from Simon, you found yourself drifting off. You were aware, as you floated off, of his slow pacing back and forth with your newborn daughter in his arms, of his whispers to her that were too low for you to hear. Of the guys popping in, as unobtrusively as possible lest the lieutenant tear them limb from limb for disturbing you and the baby, bringing him food and coffee and admiring the bundle of joy.

“Doesn’t look a thing like you, Simon,” said Soap.

“Thank God for that,” he replied.

“You should have seen it, Simon really - needle this long, right in the spine!” Price remarked, not for the first time. “She didn’t even flinch.”

“I’m just glad you made it for the gross stuff,” mumbled Gaz.

“Kyle, you’re in the military. You’ve seen arms and legs blown off.”

“Completely different, Johnny. Not the same at all.”

On and on they bantered, brothers in arms stepping into their role as uncles for your baby girl with delight. One of the last things you heard was Simon, his voice thick with emotion.

“Thank you, all of you, for being here. For today.”

“Oh come off it Simon,” replied the Captain. “These girls mean something to you, so they mean something to us. That’s what a family is. Now quit hogging her and let Uncle John have a turn.”

You wouldn’t remember this conversation when you woke up, wouldn’t be able to articulate where it came from, but you’d carry with you the bone-deep feeling of connection with this little makeshift family forever.

[jobean12-blog]

Rooted in Love

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (Plant!Dad Bucky and he's beefy!)

Word Count: 1,740

Summary: You and Bucky run into each other (literally) while plant shopping.

Author's Note: So a few days ago a friend shared the amazing art done by @nalonzooo and I immediately fell in love with her plant!dad bucky! Please go check out her page, it will just make you so happy! Her art was the inspo for this story and will be for the rest of this Universe- which I already plan to do more of! Thank you all so much for reading and thank you @nalonzooo for sharing your beautiful work! And thank you to my lovely friends @witchywithwhiskey @vonalyn and @biteofcherry for your support and help! ❤️❤️❤️Divider by the lovely @firefly-graphics thank you Daisy!🥰

Warnings: Fluffy sweet fluff, plants and Alpine!

You hand the money to the cashier with a smile and gently cradle your new plant to your body before walking off toward the car. You’re not paying attention to where you’re going because you’re looking down and cooing over your new friend, a spider plant, whom you’ve aptly named Spidey.

Suddenly the sun goes out of view and a shadow falls over you just before you walk straight into what feels like a wall.

“Oof, shit,” you mutter, juggling your spider plant and thankfully managing to hold on to it. “I’m sorry!” you quickly add, now looking up.

You can barely see the person behind all the green leaves and fronds but you do hear a deep voice say, “no doll, I’m sorry! I can barely see where I’m going and should probably have gotten a cart. Are you ok?”

Your giggle escapes without warning but you assure him you’re fine.

“Um, do you want some help? I only have one plant so I can take one or two off your hands.”

He stands there for a moment, clearly contemplating you’re offer. “You know what, that would be great!” he says finally. “Can you grab the two smaller ones here.”

His body shifts so you can take two plants that are resting precariously on his forearm.

“Sure!”

You reach over and carefully take them from him, revealing something you were not at all expecting. 

There’s a fluffy white cat curled up in the crook of his arm, it’s blue eyes peering at you with curiosity.

“Oh how cute!” you squeal.

Plant guy chuckles. “That’s Alpine. He’s very friendly so you can say hi if you want.”

Your hand immediately shoots out to rub Alpine gently on the head and then scratch behind his ears.

“He’s so sweet and handsome,” you gush.

After several moments spent doting on Alpine you realize poor plant guy is still standing there holding way too many plants.

“Oh shit,” you mumble. “I’m sorry! You’re totally standing here waiting to go to your car and carrying a whole forest and here I am just petting your cat like it’s nothing.”

“It’s really ok doll,” he says. “I appreciate the help and Alpine loves the attention.”

You try to peek around the large leaves to get a look at this guy’s face but you can’t really make out more than a black hat and the outline of a dark shadow of hair lining his sculpted jaw.

But when he says, “my car is just over here,” and he starts walking to the parking lot you get a better glimpse of the rest of him and can’t help the way your breath hitches.

“Damn…” you whisper to yourself.

He’s tall, with long thick legs and broad shoulders and an ass you already want to grab hold of.

“Well,” he starts. “My keys are in my back pocket and uh…”

You put the plants you’re holding down onto the pavement and hold out your hands. “Here give me a couple more this way you can free up a hand.”

“Good idea,” he says with a chuckle. “I was about to ask you to reach into my pocket but that wouldn’t be appropriate before at least a date right?”  

You bite your lip to stifle your laugh, thinking that you wouldn’t have minded at all.

As you take three more plants from him you get a clear view of his face and you can’t help but stare.

Sparkling blue eyes meet yours, framed by long, dark lashes and as your gaze sweeps over the rest of his face you realize he’s literally gorgeous.

“Hi,” you say far too breathily.                                                                                

“Hey doll,” he answers with a megawatt smile but seemingly oblivious to your obvious appreciation as he opens the trunk and starts to place the plants down.

As he’s lightening the load of foliage Alpine starts to crawl up his arm until he’s settled comfortably on his shoulder.

Once his hands are free he extends one to you. “I’m James, but you can call me Bucky.”

“Bucky,” you repeat, then give him your name. “How did you get that from James?”

He huffs out a laugh. “James Buchanan Barnes is my full name and my family shortened the middle and stuck with it.”

“That makes sense then,” you say lightly.

“Thanks again for the help. I’d probably still be wandering around the parking lot looking for my car if it weren’t for you,” he admits, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink.

“Glad I could help,” you say, meaning it. “You must have a lot of space for all these.”

You sweep your arm out, motioning to his trunk full of plants.

“Yeah, well…I mean sorta. It’s kinda gettin’ like a Tetris game, but I’ll make it work.”

He looks down at your feet, just now noticing your plant.

“I see you got a spider plant,” he says. “New plant parent?”

You nod before starting to bend down and pick it up. He stops you with a soft hand to your shoulder. “I’ll get it and let me walk you to your car at least.”

He grabs the plant and you see Alpine cling tighter to his shirt and shoulder. A few strands of hair fall loose from his hat and around his ear and when he stands again Alpine starts batting at them.

You cover your mouth, hoping your giggle won’t be heard but Bucky narrows his eyes playfully before explaining, “this cat is a menace.”

“Does he behave around all your plants?” you ask. “I bet they’re fun to bat around.”

You start to walk toward your car which is on the other side of the parking lot, chatting as you go.

“Actually, he does. I rescued him when he was just a kitten and started collecting plants around the same time so he’s used to them and knows he’s not allowed to mess around.”

You reach up and give Alpine a soft pat, cooing at him before you continue.

“I really hope I don’t kill this one,” you sigh, now glancing over at Spidey. “I love plants but they don’t love me.”

“That was me too,” he tells you. “It actually took me two spider plants before I got the hang of it. I still feel bad about the first two.”

“This is my third,” you say quietly, making a face. “Third plant. Not spider plant specifically. But to be fair the first two were definitely not starter plants. I don’t know what I was thinking…well, I do. They were really pretty, with these beautiful flowers- I love flowers- and I wanted them so…”

“I get it doll,” he says, “we all like pretty things.”

He looks at you, holding your stare and when you smile knowingly you see the pink creep along his cheeks again.

“So how many plants do you have?” you ask with a smirk.

“Umm,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Let’s see…I mean there’s the kitchen and that’s probably one, two, three, four…and then the living room…one, two, three, four, five…” he continues on, talking mostly to himself as he counts and lifts his left hand to finish.

You notice he’s wearing a leather glove and when he’s done getting his final count he looks from you to where your eyes are focused.

“So if I’m counting right that’s over twenty-five plants,” he says sheepishly. “And uh…old war injury.” He twinkles the fingers on his left hand at you with a lopsided smirk.

“A plant connoisseur and a war hero,” you say, hoping your tone comes off as genuine as you mean it. “And you have the best cat!”

He brightens at your words and tugs Alpine from his shoulder, cradling him in the crook of his arm. His tight Henley does nothing to hide the bulge of his bicep and the best you can do is try to focus on how cute the cat is so you don’t blurt out any of the lascivious thoughts racing through your mind.

“He is the best cat!” Bucky boasts.

Bucky leans closer to you, as if he’s telling you a deep, dark secret, his voice low. “I have this plant on my balcony that attracts a lot of butterflies and he’s so good that he won’t even try to swat at them. He just sits on my chair and watches them all afternoon! But never goes after one.”

“Best. Cat. Ever.” You proclaim, scratching under Alpine’s chin. “And I bet they are beautiful to watch.”

“If you love flowers you’d love the plants on my balcony!” he says excitedly. “It’s like a rainbow. And I have this indoor desert rose plant that’s just incredible and my gardenia’s not only look amazing but they smell amazing too.”

Your smile only grows as he continues chattering on about all his flowering plants but he must realize he’s been rambling because he suddenly trails off and his eyes get wide.

“Oh man,” he stammers. “Shit, doll. I’m sorry. That was a lot.” He shifts his weight from foot to foot.

“I don’t mind at all,” you tell him honestly. “I think it’s wonderful. Actually, I’m hoping you can give me some tips to keep Spidey alive.”

You pat the plant pot and then delicately rub one of the long, thin leaves.

“Spidey,” he says with a big smile. “I love that. And I name mine too.”

“Phew,” you say. “Thought I was going to be the weird one on that.”

“Tell you what,” he says. “I’d love to help you keep Spidey alive but only if you agree to meet me for coffee this weekend.”

You tap your finger to your chin, pretending to think it over. “What do you think Alpine?”

The cat blinks at you then meows loudly.

“He said you should,” Bucky interjects. “That was definitely a yes.”

“In that case, definitely a yes,” you say.

“That’s great doll!” Bucky replies with a grin. “How about Saturday?”

“Sounds perfect.”

After you exchange numbers and agree on a coffee shop between your two apartments you say goodbye.

“Thanks again for your help and I’m really looking forward to our coffee date,” he says, then clamps his mouth shut.

He stares at you with wide eyes again. “I uh…I didn’t mean date…what I meant was…”

“It’s ok,” you say softly, stepping closer and kissing his cheek. “I’m looking forward to our date too.”

@randomfandompenguin @book-dragon-13 @hiddles-rose @sebstanwhore @goldylions @littleseasiren @kmc1989 @lookiamtrying

[judesmoonbeauty]

Chaotic Night CE: Jude Jazza

☾ CW: Dub-con/Non-con Behavior: I am marking this as both DC & NC, just in case.☾ MDNI: For suggestive themes. This is a fan translation. 100% accuracy is not guaranteed. Cybird owns everything. Thank you so much for your support, and I hope that you enjoy the story! ☾.

(That person’s back, could it be…)

Kate: Jude?

When he turned around, I saw a wizard’s hat and unfamiliar glasses hiding his eyes —

Kate: This is…..

Jude: Don’t look at me.

Kate: Huh?

Jude: Everyone falls asleep when they make eye contact with me ‘cause ‘o that extract that quack made.

Jude: Can’t get no work done, dammit.

His spitting voice hit my ears as I quickly averted my eyes.

(That’s right, he said he had work after the party, so he left early.)

Undoubtedly, the cursed ability that puts anyone to sleep when their forehead’s touched, has been amplified.

(Even so…..)

Kate: Where’d the hat come from.

Jude: Hah?

(The pressure’s more overwhelming than usual….)

Jude: …..Ellis put it on me in the lounge, dunno, but it’s a costume.

Kate: It looks….kind of like a wizard.

My thoughtless words seemed to have struck a chord with him —

Jude: Does the princess see me as a wizard.

(Oh, no……)

Jude: Then, I’ll behave like the villainous 13th Wizard.[1]

With veins popping out on his forehead, he grabbed me by arm and started walking.[2]

Kate: What, where are we going?!

Jude: ……

Kate: Jude.

He didn’t respond as he dragged me away —

Roughly throwing open the door he tossed me on the bed.

Kate: Oof.

The sound of the door locking echoed out, and the moment I tried to look up.

Kate: Mmph.

The back of my head was grabbed, and I was forced into a pillow.

Kate: What are you doing?

Jude: What was that, can’t understand what yer sayin’.

Kate: I don’t know, hmm.

Suddenly, something is pressed between my legs and I let out a sweet moan.

When I moved my legs around, it seemed to be his knee —.

Jude: If I’m angry ‘n there happens to be someone to torment, then I got no choice but to.

The merciless voice from above stimulated me again between my legs.

Kate: Nnn, please stop.

I try to escape the pleasure by twisting myself from the knee that’s grinding against me.

Jude: Yer lookin’ pleased ‘though sayin’ stop, ya must feel good.

Kate: Your wrong!

The close whispers in my ear, and heat touching my back, made me realize that he had climbed on top of me.

Kate: For now, take your hand off my head.

The moment I touched his hand that pressed me against the pillow, there was strong pressure between my legs.

Jude: What’re ya so excited ‘bout?

Kate: [Gasp] !

Just as I was about to hit my peak from the sweet stimulation, I desperately tensed my legs, but….

Jude: Yer squeezin’ my knees, but yer lookin’ like it feels so good ya stand it.

Jude : With yer face pressed into a pillow, unable to move,

Jude: ‘n bein’ tortured…..yer so perverted.

Kate: I’m not.

Jude: What’s not.

When I heard a sigh his knee moved away, and I felt relief for a moment, but

Kate: Ahh.

His hand that lifted my skirt pressed against my sensitive spot over my underwear, making me come.

Jude: It’s wet here though.

Kate: —!

Jude: Even though I only touched ya a bit, ya came.

Jude: Seriously, yer so masochistic it’s laughable.

(This is so embarrassing, why did this happen…..)

I was so ashamed that tears started to form in my eyes,

And his sharp eyes didn’t miss a thing.

Jude: Yer face is bright red, are ya so humiliated that yer gonna start wailin’?

Kate: [sniffle] , please let me go now! [3]

I thrashed my hands, repeatedly hitting his hand that held my head,

Jude: Ha, weak. Are ya serious?

The instant he sneered with laughter, his hand slid up to my chin, turning my upper body around.

My vision is filled with him —

Jude: Can’t be helped, so let’s end it now. Look at me.

The moment our gazes almost met I quickly covered my eyes.

Jude: Hah?

Kate: I don’t want to.

Kate: If I sleep here, then I won’t be able to fight back while being tormented.

Kate: So I will NOT go to sleep!

I bit my lip knowing that I couldn’t just go to sleep after being humiliated.

Jude: Ya really are an idiot.

He sneered in a low, sadistic whisper.

Jude: There ain’t no way ya could fight back.

Jude: I’ll torture ya till I’m satisfied.

(If I had slept then, this wouldn’t have happened.)

As I lay in bed on the verge of tears, too embarrassed to recall the memory,

His hand grabbed my cheek as he ripped off the sheet.

Kate: What are you doing.

Jude: ….All cured.

Kate: What? Oh, you’re right.

When our eyes meet I didn’t fall asleep, and he looks relieved.

Jude: The anger’s also calmed down, ya were useful.

Kate: Really?

I got so happy when he said that, then I came back to my senses…..

Jude: Looks like ya enjoyed bein’ tormented.

Kate: N-no, I didn’t!

Jude: Ha.

He stood up with a mocking laugh, his profile looking different than usual.

Jude: I’ll torment ya again when I have time,

Jude: When that time comes, be ready.

I watched him leave the room, then collapsed on the bed.

(Next time, I won’t let Jude do what he wants.)

I’m filled with embarrassment thinking about the next time, but

(The truth is,)

—There’s no way I could say that I hated it.

Some subjects were tough to identify in this translation. [1] Although we know this is translated as fairy in EN, due to his costume and context, I chose to keep wizard.

[2] ずかずか “zukazuka” was used here, and has several meanings such as: forward, directly, straight, rudely, without hesitation/permission. However, I opted to just use “started walking,” because I am not confident which of these are meant to be conveyed.

[3] There is no onomatopoeic word mentioned, but since she’s fighting back tears, I added sniffles.

[Event Master List] Dividers: @.saradika-graphics/@.natimiles

Tags: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @letter-from-afar @nateko @cosmowgyrall. @lunaaka

Please comment below if you wish to be tagged in translations!

So, what did you all think??? It's not as gory or smutty as his Villain's Night story event from last year, but it was still good I think! I am telling you we are going to see some freaky bedroom shit in his route and events after this.