#Length: <5000 Words

[harry-potter-archive]

Your Move, Draco by chachisoo

Description: Complete (9 Panels)

Summary:

Through a subtle touch, Draco accidentally challenges Harry to a flirting match that turns out to be more than he can handle.

Published: Archive of Our Own; 2019 Last Updated: Dec. 31, 2019

[laugtherhyena]

Finally past this "bump" on the chapter 21 writing road or whatever you wanna call it

[7loveneverfails]

I might be planning some research to write a novel of the life of Elijah.

I might have a note on my phone....

[emmyrosee]

Hey so

This is really dumb, and kind of ridiculous, and it’s the most first world problem I’ve got, but when you make requests, please do not demand a length.

Like I totally get it, you want your idea to come to life and I’m so excited that you trust me to do it, but please remember that length comes from inspiration and I have absolutely no indication of how long something will be, so making a demand may do more harm for the piece than good.

Idk, it’s super dumb and I know that, but I just want this to be a place of thriving creativity, and if you have a length you’re expecting for one reason or another and you do not trust me to do it, please feel open to write it for yourself and tag me if you so desire.

Thank ya, baby 💖

[simpscripts]

Now I get to decide if I want to stop this chapter at 7,000 words or do the whole thing I originally planned as one long ass fucking chapter.

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 10 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After just two days back home, Bradley takes you on a second date. He wants more, and you don't seem to mind when he can't keep his hands and lips to himself.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, Bradley being boyfriend material

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

"Shit."

It had been such a long time since Bradley wore anything other than a flight suit, a khaki uniform or gym clothes, he had no idea what he was supposed to wear to dinner tonight. You mentioned weeks ago you thought Italian food sounded nice for a second date, and he agreed wholeheartedly. He managed to snag a table for the two of you at Salvatore's, and he was absolutely prepared to drop over five hundred bucks, but his clothing was becoming a situation.

After spending the entire day with you yesterday, Saturday morning was a bit of a reality check. He was trying to work through three loads of laundry while he sorted through a box of mail. There was nothing sweet in there like the packages you and your class sent to him while he was deployed. It was mostly bills that had already been automatically paid online, mortgage statements, and junk. Then he started folding laundry, somehow expecting some articles of clothing that weren't threadbare tee shirts or tropical print button downs to jump out at him.

"Why don't you have normal clothing?" he asked himself as he picked up his phone now that it was late enough to text you. He wanted to make sure you were okay with grabbing a drink before the dinner reservation which wasn't until 7:45. But when he unlocked his phone, instead of zero new messages, he found a picture you sent seven minutes ago. 

"Oh my god," he groaned softly, dropping onto his bed next to some unfolded laundry. You were in your own bed wearing his favorite sweatshirt and a bright smile.

Good morning, Handsome. Last night felt like a dream, but your sweatshirt is real, so it must have happened.

He scrambled to write back, clothing crisis forgotten. God, he wanted to be in that bed in the worst way. Things would definitely get out of hand pretty quickly, but he knew those first few kisses would be the sweetest things. After last night at the beach, waiting for a few more dates was going to be the challenge of his life, but he wanted you to know he was in this for the long haul. Especially after you mentioned that you thought he may have ghosted you.

Hey, Gorgeous. My sweatshirt looks way better on you than it ever did on me. Did you sleep in it?

He hit send and then wished he hadn't asked that question. He sounded like a horny twenty year old. It was bad enough that he had to practically beg you to go inside your apartment last night while you were kissing his neck, but he didn't want to embarrass himself.

Of course I did. It smells like you. The only thing better would be having you in my bed, too...

How the hell was he supposed to wait until this evening to see you? He tossed his phone aside. His blood felt like it was on fire, and he was sweating. Never before had he wanted to move this fast from a first date to making things official. But he knew you. He'd been working up to this point for months. And the Thai dinner with Prosecco on the beach wasn't really a first date. That felt closer to a reunion with a girlfriend than anything else. The only thing missing for that to have been true was a sleepover instead of him taking you home for the night. 

He was too many steps ahead right now. You hadn't yet done the drive down to Coronado from Mira Mesa for yourself, but he already caught himself wondering if you'd consider moving in with him in the future. "You need to relax," he ground out through gritted teeth. "You'll scare her away." He cracked his neck and forced himself to fold a stack of underwear before picking up his phone to reply.

I don't want to rush things, but your bed does look very comfortable. I'm confident we could get cozy there... You're making me blush. I need to get this conversation back on track. Cocktails before dinner at Salvatore's? I'll pick you up at 5:30?

A few minutes later, you responded with a photo of you still all snuggled up in bed, smiling and giving him a thumbs up in his shirt.

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

"Just in case," you muttered, making sure your bedding was straightened and your room was tidy. You left Bradley's TOP GUN sweatshirt folded on your pillow, but you certainly wouldn't mind having the man himself in your bed tonight. Your fingers and toes tingled when you thought about it. You bit your lip and scooped up his shirt, inhaling his scent one more time before you realized he would be here any minute.

When he knocked on your door, you set it back on your pillow and glanced at yourself in the mirror as you bounced past it. Cocktails and dinner at Salvatore's would have been a major splurge for a night out for you, but Bradley selected the restaurant. All you did was mention Italian food, and he really ran with it. You'd have been happy with some pizza and breadsticks, simply excited he remembered you mentioned Italian food at all, but this called for your littlest black dress and your brightest red lipstick. 

"I'm coming!" you called, going as fast as you could in your black heels, giggling at the double meaning. You had to compose yourself before you could open the door, and when you did, you were met with the actual man of your dreams.

"Hey, Gorgeous." Bradley's crooked little smile faltered a bit as his gaze slid down from your eyes to your lips, but he didn't stop there. He was shamelessly checking you out as a pretty shade of pink crept up into his cheeks, and you did a slow turn for him. 

Your skin felt warm as you met his eyes after doing a full circle. His lips were parted as you whispered, "Hi," and reached for his hand. As soon as your skin met his, he pulled you closer to him. "Bradley." His lips were on yours as he backed you up into your apartment until you softly met the wall behind you. He was big and warm, and you were holding his left hand while his right one came up to your face.

He broke the kiss by tipping your chin up so you were looking at him. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," he crooned softly. Your lipstick was smudged along his mouth, and his tongue darted out to taste it before he said, "I'm fucking crazy about you."

His rough thumb dragged along your bottom lip as you said, "And you've never even seen me dispose of a spider for you."

"Baby," he rasped. "I'd probably propose."

A shocked giggle escaped you, and his crooked grin was back as he kept you there against your wall with your door wide open. You reached up and ran your fingers along the collar of his oxford shirt before tugging on the fabric until his lips were on yours again. You let your head tip back against the wall as he devoured you, tasting your lips, tongue and teeth before his forehead came to rest gently on yours.

"You know," you gasped, trying to catch your breath, "I thought all your emails were sweet and romantic."

He chuckled as he pulled away from you. "I was hoping I was doing okay in person, too."

You shrugged playfully and tried to spin out of his grasp, but his hand was still wrapped up in yours. He followed you to your coffee table so you could grab your purse as you casually told him, "You're even better in person than I thought you'd be."

"Oh yeah?" he asked, pulling you close again. "You like my stupid looking clothes and how I can eat three meals for dinner?"

He was so endearing, you didn't know how to handle him. So you kissed him again and whispered, "I like all of it." You let your fingers trail along his shirt buttons as you said, "You look nice in this, but I can already tell you're more comfortable in your colorful Aloha shirts and jeans. And I love that you can eat three meals for dinner, because we ended up sharing everything last night."

"Let's go," he coaxed, leading you toward your door. "I'll let you pick whatever you want to try at Salvatore's. I don't usually like sharing my food, but there's just something about you, Gorgeous. You make me feel comfortable."

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

You tried to tell Bradley twice that he still had some of your lipstick smudged on his face, but he just shrugged and said, "Good," in response both times. If he didn't mind, then neither did you. It couldn't be any more obvious that he was with you when the exact color that was on your lips was also on his. You listened to him hum along to the retro oldies station as he merged onto the coastal highway while you took a minute to fix up your own smudged lipstick.

He grinned over at you as you put your makeup away and said, "Come on, Baby. If you didn't want it on my face, then you wouldn't be putting more on your lips."

Every time he made a bold statement like that, you wanted to cancel dinner altogether and take him to your bedroom. "I never said I didn't want it on your face. It looks good." 

He reached out blindly for your hand, and you grabbed his immediately. "You did tell me you wanted me to kiss you as soon as I saw you."

"Yeah," you muttered. "Don't stop doing that." You knew things with him were going to get physical pretty quickly, but you'd never been quite this attracted to someone before. You drew little shapes on his palm as you asked, "How was your first night back in your own bed after so many months away?"

He groaned softly. "Epic. Fantastic. I don't fit very well in an extra long twin bed."

"No, I would imagine you don't," you said with a laugh as you watched him drive his Bronco in the evening sunlight.

He licked his lips and grinned as he said, "Would have been better if you were there though."

The eruption of butterflies in your belly left you biting your lip. You wanted to respond, but you needed to be able to make it through dinner before you were hanging off of him again like you were last night. That's when he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed your knuckles, treating you to his mustache there. "Feel like getting a drink or two in the lounge first? Maybe a bottle of wine?"

"Mmhmm," you hummed, ready to go anywhere he took you. As soon as he parked, he jogged around to help you down, letting you slide against his body with your hands on his shoulders. You wobbled a bit in your shoes, but he kept you steady.

"You good?" he asked as he leaned in, his lips brushing the side of your neck as his arm wrapped around your waist.

"So good," you promised. "Never better."

Bradley kept his hand right there on your hip as he led you along the sidewalk toward the restaurant. The lounge was packed; this was definitely a popular weekend date night locale. Couples filled the space with noisy conversation, but you could hear Bradley perfectly as his lips found your ear when he said, "There's an empty stool at the far end of the bar." He gave your hip a little squeeze as you headed for it, and he leaned on the bar next to you. "Why don't you pick out a bottle of wine or whatever you want? I'll go let the hostess know we'll be hanging out in the lounge."

When you agreed, he kissed your lips like the two of you had been at this for years, not just since yesterday. You weren't the only one who watched him walk away in his snug pants and Oxford shirt that somehow showed off his biceps. He was just that good looking. When you saw him without a shirt on, you'd probably faint and need him to revive you. When the bartender came over, you were chuckling to yourself at the idea of having sex with Bradley while he kept his shirt on to save you from that fate.

"Can I get you a drink?"

You looked at him in a daze, realizing you meant to choose a bottle of wine. You blurted out what kind you liked best, and with a nod and a smile, he turned to fill your request. And that's when you finally looked at the menu and realized the bottle was more than a hundred and fifty dollars.

"Oh shit." But it was too late. He had already opened it and was heading your way with it. You scrambled in your purse for your wallet, cringing at the idea of Bradley seeing the bill when you could have simply ordered a cocktail instead. Just as the bartender was pouring out a bit of the wine for you to try, you found your credit card successfully. And that was also when Bradley came back.

"They'll come get us when our table's ready," he said. "I told them it would be easy to find me since my date is the most beautiful woman in the restaurant." He watched the bartender pick up a second glass and said, "Oh perfect, you found some wine that you like."

You nodded and tried your best to pass your credit card across the bar undetected with your hand covering it. "I sure did."

Bradley's eyes followed your hand as he took a sip of the wine. "What are you doing?"

"Nothing," you told him, picking up your own glass with your other hand. You tasted the wine and nodded at the bartender, and then he filled up both glasses while Bradley reached for your credit card.

"That's not necessary, Gorgeous. You can put that away."

You waited until the bartender walked off before you shook your head. "Let me pay for the wine. I was distracted and just picked a random bottle before I looked at the price, and then it was too late because he already had it opened. It's expensive."

Bradley looked completely unfazed as he eased your card from your hand and tucked it back into your wallet. "I don't care about that."

"I do," you said softly in your embarrassment. "I don't want you to think that's what I expected."

Bradley laughed in response. "First of all, I would never think that. And second, I was on that aircraft carrier for so long, and this wine tastes so good, and you look so pretty... I don't even want to tell you how much I'd be willing to pay for that bottle of wine and our dinner."

You simultaneously felt better and a little warm. "Okay, fine. But next time we go out for dinner, we're getting burgers from In-N-Out, and I'm paying."

His smile grew as you sipped your wine which really was quite good. "So that means you want to go out again?"

You rolled your eyes up at him where he stood, his hand brushing your knee where it was crossed over your other leg. "I'm about to make an In-N-Out reservation right now."

"Perfect," he replied. "Which night? I have to work late a few days next week to get caught up on everything I missed while I was away."

"You're ridiculous," you told him with a laugh. "How about Wednesday?"

His fingers toyed with the hem of your dress as he said, "Wednesday's good. You also need to let me know when I can visit your classroom again." His words were so sweet, and his gaze was sincere, but the feel of his fingertips inching along your skin above your knee was something else. 

You set your glass down next to your purse and reached for his hand, letting his fingers slip underneath your dress as you met his brown eyes. When he teased your skin with his rough hands, you reached for his shirt, and Bradley came willingly. Salvatore's didn't provide the two of you with the same level of privacy as the beach last night had, but you didn't really care, and he didn't seem to either.

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

You had the softest skin. How was he supposed to keep his hands off you? And that red lipstick made your little pout when he teased you even more delectable than he could have imagined. And he'd been doing plenty of imagining for the last few months. He'd imagined you in a variety of scenarios with him, but so far being with you in person surpassed everything his vivid thoughts came up with.

When he mentioned visiting you at work, you treated him to the silky soft feel of your skin, and then you literally grabbed the front of his shirt and tugged until he was kissing you. Oh god, he was never going to recover from this. He had to wrap his hand around the middle of your thigh to keep himself from going any further as you moaned softly into his mouth. He was absolutely starving and a little dizzy from the wine, but he was thinking about skipping dinner in favor of the solitude of the Bronco right now.

"Mr. Bradshaw?"

Your tongue was slowly tasting his when you jerked away from him as the hostess strolled over. Embarrassed, you turned toward the bar as Bradley grunted in response at the young woman who told him the table was ready for the two of you. And maybe that wasn't a bad thing, because feeling you up in the middle of the crowded lounge wasn't something he'd feel good about later. At least not on the second date. He'd bring you back here in a few months and see if the two of you even made it to dinner.

With a smile, he reached for your free hand after you picked up your glass. You halfway hid your face against his bicep as the hostess picked up the bottle and led the way through the lounge and into the restaurant. Bradley kissed your forehead and murmured, "If I could keep my hands off of you, this wouldn't be a problem."

You peered up at him through your lashes. "Hanging out on your couch alone is sounding better and better."

"Fuck," he groaned softly as you released his hand and took a seat at the table set for two which was overlooking the bay. Bradley pushed your chair in, and his thumbs met your bare arms. He took a few deep breaths before taking the seat opposite yours and accepted one of the menus as he listened to the specials while he looked at your face. He muttered some sort of response, and then the two of you were alone.

You emptied the remainder of the wine between his glass and yours, and then Bradley watched you lick a little droplet from your thumb as you smiled at him. "So which three dinners are you planning on ordering tonight?"

It took him a second to realize that he was holding an open menu even though he hadn't looked at it once. He cleared his throat and said, "Definitely some homemade spaghetti and meatballs. The last time I ate spaghetti, it was overcooked and sad, and I had to go back to my bunk and think about you to make myself feel better." You covered your mouth with one hand while you laughed, and it was the most charming thing he'd ever seen. "I'm so serious, Gorgeous. I got a plate of soggy noodles, and literally the only thing that made it better was imagining you teaching your class about military grade jets and aviation."

Your pretty eyes were glittering as you told him, "I keep extending my lessons on the topic, and you are completely to blame for that. After the first time you responded to us, my students asked about you every single day. They are completely enamored with you."

"Yeah? Just them? Or you too?" He knew his words were reminiscent of the way you'd tried to blame it on your kids when you asked him to send you a picture so you could see what he looked like.

"Hmm." You pretended to peruse your menu. "I'm thinking about the ravioli. Or maybe the penne with vodka sauce." Your foot tapped his leg beneath the table, and he had to fight the urge to reach under and touch your skin again. You were teasing him in every way right now, and he was absolutely loving it. When the waiter dropped off glasses of water and some freshly baked bread, he asked if you wanted anything else to drink.

"You want another bottle of wine, Gorgeous?" Bradley asked, deciding to tease you right back.

"Absolutely not," you told him, looking at him like he had two heads before kindly telling the waiter, "No, thank you."

He was still laughing when he picked up a piece of bread. "So we'll get spaghetti, penne and ravioli?"

"You don't have to order what I want," you told him, your foot still running along his calf while your expression dripped with innocence.

"No. I want to though." It was kind of fun spoiling you with something as simple as dinner. Vanessa would have made a comment by now about how much she hated the slightly kitschy, over the top restaurant, even if the food was supposed to be immaculate. You didn't seem to mind one bit that he ordered three massive entrees and intended to finish whatever you didn't. Vanessa always got embarrassed, but all you said was that you were excited to try all three.

There was never a lull in conversation. You actually listened to Bradley when he was talking, and he could have listened to you all night.

"So you know how last night I mentioned... that I'd never really thought about dating someone in the military who deploys for work?"

"Yeah," Bradley rasped, not sure he loved where the conversation was heading.

You looked a little apprehensive as you said, "I was thinking about it more last night after you dropped me off." 

"And?"

You kind of shrugged and said, "I think I'd actually be okay with it, as long as it's you. It almost feels like we got some big, scary thing out of the way already, you know? And I could always write to you, because I kind of loved doing that. And yes, Bradley, I am also completely enamored with you."

It was almost a shame that the food arrived then, because as you started to cut into an enormous ravioli, all he could think to say was, "I'm completely enamored with you, too."

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

You were so full from dinner, you didn't know how Bradley could walk. He ate at least two times what you did, and then he insisted on ordering a piece of cheesecake. When you caught sight of the bill, you tried not to gasp, because it was more than you spend on groceries for a whole month. But he handed over his credit card and signed his name without even breaking conversation with you. And now you were discreetly grabbing a handful of mints on your way out of the restaurant as he held your hand.

It was late, and you knew he was still tired. He mentioned briefly that he had a lot of chores to do this week amidst some late nights at work, but you didn't know how you'd be able to wait until Wednesday to see him again. When he started up the Bronco and headed in the direction of your apartment, your mind flooded with questions, but he asked you one first.

"I already have plans tomorrow, but I don't think I can wait until Wednesday to see you again. What time do you usually get to school?"

"7:20."

"Okay. And what kind of coffee do you like?"

You couldn't stop smiling as you told him what you usually ordered on the rare occasion you had time to stop at Starbucks. You kind of already felt like he was spoiling you.

"Have you memorized everything I've ever told you?"

"Yep," he replied, his handsome smile evident in the street lights. "And I've gotta say, you're one of a kind, Gorgeous."

You honestly didn't want the ride to end. The fact that there was no buffer of traffic to add to the twenty minute drive made you pout a little bit. Bradley's deep voice layered over the music playing on the radio while he held your hand was intoxicating, but you made a disappointed sound as he parked in front of your building.

When he released your hand to kill the engine in the near darkness, all you could see was his handsome profile. "You thought the drive would be too much for me," you whispered. "But when I'm in the car with you, I don't want it to end."

He cleared his throat and softly said, "Well, we don't have to get out quite yet if you don't want to."

Your pout turned into a grin as you unbuckled your seatbelt. "I can tell you still need to catch up on some sleep. I don't want to keep you out too late, Bradley."

He chuckled and undid his own seatbelt. "Why don't you come a little closer and say my name again."

As you eased yourself onto your hands and knees, you scooted across the seat and whispered, "Bradley," with a little laugh.

"Closer?" he asked, and you crawled over to him until you were able to kiss his cheek.

"Bradley."

He turned his head so his lips met yours, and he whispered, "Closer," against your mouth.

You were immediately in his lap, your hands resting on his chest as the steering wheel met your lower back. Your lips found his scarred cheek just like last night, and you kissed your way along his mustache and the side of his nose. You let your hands drift slowly down over his abs until they met the leather of his belt, and you whispered his name one more time.

His big hands closed around your wrists as he groaned, "You really love teasing me."

You nodded and said, "I really do," as he guided your hands up to his shoulders and around his neck.

"You're really good at it, Baby. All those pictures of you in your bed are enough to get a man through a deployment and then promptly kill him once he's on dry land if he can't touch you immediately."

He kissed the inside of your arm, and you scooted your body a little closer to his. "You can touch me." Your words elicited a deep groan as he slid his big hands along your bare arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He kissed your lips, swiping his tongue against yours as his fingers trailed down your sides. You almost cried out when his thumbs grazed the sides of your breasts before he gently squeezed your waist and your hips.

You could invite him to stay over. You didn't think he'd turn you down if you did. But all you could manage to say was, "Bradley," between kisses.

He tipped his head back against the headrest and whispered, "I love the way that sounds." His eyes were glittering in the darkness as he looked at your face and your body, and you remembered his text message from earlier.

I don't want to rush things

It was hard for you to remember that yesterday in your classroom was the first time you touched him. The first time you heard his voice in person. As much as you wanted to lean in close and ask him to stay, instead you kissed his ear and said, "You promised me movie night on your couch. When?"

"Friday?" he asked, kissing along your neck. "Let me end the week with my Gorgeous girl?"

"Yes."

You were afraid you were going to melt right out onto the pavement when he opened his door, but he helped you down and kept his arm wrapped around you. Bradley walked a half step behind you in the darkness all the way to your apartment. While there was no expectation that he was going to join you inside, you ended up pinned against your door, because it didn't seem like he was quite ready to leave yet either. 

He was eager. You could feel it as his lips found your neck again. He smiled against you as he whispered your name in that deep raspy voice. "Since you don't like surprises, I'm telling you right now that you should expect to see me in the parking lot at your school on Monday morning. Sound okay?"

"Oh god, yes," you whined as he released you. There were so many things you wanted to tell him as he put a foot of space between your bodies, really giving you a chance to see his pink cheeks and the way he was breathing deeply. You blurted out, "I'm falling so hard for you."

His crooked little grin was back as he nodded at your door. "Lock it behind you. And when you get in bed, in my sweatshirt, send me another selfie."

"I will," you promised, and you did exactly what he said. A minute after you texted the photo, you got a message back from him.

I think I'm falling even harder.

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

I'm so obsessed with them. She was so concerned about that bottle of wine! And he really wasn't lol. Coffee and burgers and a couch date coming up. This story will be 18+ soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 11

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@horseslovers2016

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

@daggerspare-standingby

@nessjo

@trickphotography2

@lyn-js

@marve2014

@furiousladyking

[tomicscomics]

07/26/2024

When the carnivore diet gets out of hand.

JOKE-OGRAPHY: 1. In this Bible story, Jesus and His disciples go to rest on a mountainside, but a big crowd of followers tracks them down. They want to hear more of Jesus's cool Jesus-words and see more of Jesus's cool Jesus-deeds. Jesus asks Philip what they can feed everyone, and Philip replies incredulously that it'd cost 200 days' wages to buy everyone something little. Of course, Jesus was only testing his faith with one of His many Jesus-tricks. Then Andrew appears, escorting a kid who offers to share a few fish and some loaves of bread. Jesus accepts the food and passes some out to everyone, and somehow, there's plenty for over 5000 men (not including families that might have been with them). When Jesus asks His disciples to clean up, the leftovers fill twelve baskets -- way more than they started with. The people are all wowed, dazzled, and amused. 2. In this cartoon, I inject an extra bit of dialogue into the story. When Andrew introduces the boy, Jesus assumes Andrew is suggesting they eat the child, causing Andrew to panic until the boy clarifies his true purpose. Of course, Jesus only said this to test them, for He Himself knew what He was going to do (John 6:6), and is just being super hilarious.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: This cartoon is a Tomics "Second Coming," where I've taken an ancient comic that was already resurrected, and redraw it once again. You'll notice through these iterations that it's gone back and forth between length, but the pacing remains roughly the same throughout. The first version features my ancient desaturated style in all its boring wonder. The second features brighter colors but strangely greenish skin, and also a shorter and more to-the-point format. I think I prefer the longer version for setting a scene, but I could go either way -- and I have! Anyway, it's a very exclusive status for one of my comics to be redrawn twice. Maybe one day I'll redraw it a third time, but for now, how does it compare to its past selves?

[hellofriendhawke]

yes yes i know a chapter should end at wherever the author feels is appropriate of course or just however much they want to write, I'm asking how much are you, a reader, most comfortable reading for a single chapter. Like if I had a 250k fic fully written out would you prefer I divide it into five 50k word chapters or fifty chapters all about 5k in size?

[diminuel]

I did some doodling, now the plan is to get dressed, move the guinea pigs to their outside enclosure, make a cup of tea and write 1000 words of Lord of Amara.

After that I'll draw a Stinky Child comic page, then another 1000 words etc until I'm at hopefully 5000 words which I feel is an acceptable chapter length. I don't know how much story will happen but admittedly, we're in a bit of a "anything could happen" stretch of the LoA story. I know what happens but not exactly how I'm going to get there... Which is a bit scary >w<;

Edit 1: Got a bit carried away and did 2600 words. Half of the chapter done! (In terms of word count goal...)

Edit 2: Six pages of Stink Child comic done (since I wrote over 2000 words I allowed myself to draw 2 pages.) 5 more to go. But now it's fic writing time again. 1000 words. Let's go!

Edit 3: Got to 4000 words, then had dinner, now I'm drawing another comic page.

[tinosawruswrites]

Jealousy

Week 1: Jealousy (One-shot)

BG3 Baddies/Lilith Hell Discord server Fanfic prompt

Word count: ~5000 words

Synopsis: Astarion ponders over his irritation upon seeing Alina (Tav) sharing friendly intimacy with Gale (and Shadowheart) and attempting to deny that it stems from jealousy.

Tags/Warnings: Named Fem! Tav (Alina), OC Tav with backstory and defined personality, rogue half-elf Tav, spawn Astarion, side character Gale, Shadowheart, Lae’zel and Scratch, jealous Astarion, mild spoilers for the end of Act1, angst, fluff, mentions of abuse and torture, mentions of scars from abuse/torture (back and forearms), allusions to Astarion’s past abuse, smut, penis in vagina sex, pretentious ponderings of things and feelings, endless musings and vague dialogue attempting to create subtext.

Additional notes: Huge thanks to Zaria's The Rabid House Server and those who helped by betareading and giving me grammar lessons! You know who you are! <3

It was a calm evening for once. The group was on their way towards Moonrise, taking a long rest after spending the whole day traveling over the mountain pass. Everyone was at ease, mostly, or pretending to after the dud that was the gith Créche.

Lae’zel in particular. The warrior was uncharacteristically absent, her head full of things to solve after finding out about Vlaakith’s deceit. She sat sternly at the far sidelines of the camp, deep in silent meditation, uninterested and unbothered by the others relaxing by the fire.

Astarion felt he didn’t have much in common with Lae’zel, but found himself in a similar sort of – albeit entirely different and entirely self inflicted – kind of inner turmoil.

He watched as Alina laughed with Gale near the campfire. The two sat side by side, practically glued to one another. The sight made Astarion’s mouth go uncomfortably dry and he took a slow sip from his wine goblet, holding back the grimace that formed from the sour taste of vinegar hitting his tongue.

His eyes followed the way the wizard’s hand fell on the half-elf rogue’s shoulder all too casually for his liking.

Too close.

Too familiar.

Too intimate.

But why?

He had been intimate with her, way more so than the wizard could ever hope to be.

He’d successfully seduced her and bedded her in the forest some weeks ago. After that night, he’d approached her again during the tiefling party and she had agreed to share his bedroll on more than one occasion ever since.

Hells, she sometimes approached him – the shy, timid Alina approached him, for a heated midnight tryst!

That, if anything, meant something and yet… it might have meant nothing at all.

He lowered the goblet from his lips, glaring daggers at Gale’s back from the shadows he sat under. He wished his stare would somehow sting the wizard enough to force him to keel back and remove his grubby fingers off of Alina, but nothing such happened. The wizard kept touching Alina, and the painful stings kept assaulting his own heart instead.

The way Gale could be at such ease near her, so openly enthusiastic about his boring, fringe interests and hobbies while being so godsdamned sincere about himself annoyed him to no end.

How could someone be so reckless?

How did he manage to survive this long without putting up a front and maximizing the others interest by careful analysis and then providing what the other sought according to said analysis? To him, Gale’s haphazard approach to social interactions was severely lacking and somehow the wizard was still winning and by the looks of it, bloody enjoying himself.

Astarion fixated on the hand that slid to gently pat Alina on the upper back. A spot he knew she was sensitive about anyone seeing in particular, with the ragged scars accumulated under her merciless debt owner littering the full length of it and all.

A spot, he had never directly touched as of yet himself either, and whenever he did so indirectly, made him uncomfortable, prompting him to remove his hand lest he push on her limits too hard to drive her away…

After all, she was self-conscious enough to hide them at all times, even when they had their little midnight meetings.

And there was Gale. Resting his stupid magic hand over Alina’s back so stupidly casually, not a care in the world.

The stinging in his heart began to burn like it had actually managed to carve a tiny hole through his undead flesh. He closed his eyes, lifted the wine goblet back onto his lips and took another bitter sip of the vile liquid in order to wash away some of the pain.

Gale had never laid with Alina, but was somehow closer to her, while he had, and his presence was reduced to sitting in the shadows at the edge of camp.

Not because nobody wanted him near the campfire, no. He was allowed to, maybe even welcome, but something kept him at bay.

Deep down, he knew why this was, but acknowledging such a thing would mean admitting defeat, and he was very keen on not doing so.

It was a frivolous little thing, an irritatingly ardent feeling that had made its existence known to him right after he had slept with Alina the first time. It was supposed to be a simple performance, a perfect illusion that would secure Alina’s heart under his ministrations, but each following night they shared, it became increasingly more difficult to keep the mask of indifference on his face.

He might have been intimate with Alina, but had never shared true intimacy with her.

That was the plan and it was working, so why did he still feel like he was losing? And to a socially awkward wizard no less??

“Either the wine in your cup is sour enough to crease your face, or it’s the other way around.” Shadowheart mused from the side rolling her own wine goblet in hand.

Astarion forced his face into seduction mode, easing any and all tension from his face like a magic trick.

“What ever do you mean?” He asked lifting his brows at the cleric.

Shadowheart raised her own brows up in tandem, giving him one of those sly knowing looks of hers.

“Oh, I just ought to point it out, since my wine was starting to taste oddly sour in your presence. Jealousy is a bad look on you, to be honest.”

“Jealous?? Me?” Astarion retorted with a dry laugh and his eyes fell back onto Gale and Alina.

He was about to take another sip of his wine, but froze as he witnessed Alina leaning against Gale and giving him a partial hug. Shadowheart watched as Astarion’s grip tightened around his wine goblet, threatening to break it if it was anything else but metal.

“Mmh-hmm.” She hummed swaying closer.

“For an over two centuries old immortal being you’re surprisingly clueless about things. Or just playing dumb. Which is it, actually?”

“Things? What things, girl? Be more specific,” he spat back at her.

He got another knowing look from the half-elven cleric.

“I wonder...” Shadowheart mused, now standing right next to him.

She extended an arm towards the way he was facing, pretending to scan what Astarion was looking at, as if she didn’t have the insight to what he was so miffed about.

“Oh! I see it now.” She exclaimed and settled to focus on Alina, who had her head rested against Gale’s shoulder in the distance.

“That’s what’s got you so worked up.” She looked Astarion in the eyes, the gleam in her green irises shining arrogantly bright over her clever assessment.

“That’s absolutely ridiculous. What I have with her is more than boring, innocent cuddling.”

“Oh trust me, I and the rest of the camp are well aware.” Shadowheart stepped back with an unimpressed half-smile on her lips.

Astarion smirked.

Alina was the quiet type and didn’t make much noise, unless a situation really called for it. Even her speaking voice was soft and tender, and she preferred to stifle herself even when she was in terrible pain. In contrast to this, she was surprisingly loud when she was feeling good – and Astarion knew how to make her feel way better than just good.

The morning after the tiefling party had been an extremely embarrassing event for her, when the others subtly brought it up to her during breakfast. After that, he’d made it a thing to let her howl out his name in the middle of the night every once in awhile, just as a reminder who she was tumbling with.

Astarion grinned a smug toothy grin, once again frowning at Gale’s turned back.

“Tell me then, dear Shadowheart, what is it that I’m so jealous about, if I’m so intimate with her already?”

“I think you know exactly what I mean.”

Shadowheart stared at him without blinking and took a long, slow drink of her wine. She tasted the wine before swallowing it and peered inside her now empty cup.

“Oh, would you look at that. All out of wine. I would ask for a refill from your bottle, but I know you’d just say no. Then again, I don’t think I’d actually want any. ‘Sour grapes’ and all.” She flashed him a brilliant smile before swaying away and joining the others near the campfire.

Astarion scoffed at the cleric, finished his own wine and remained scowling in the shadows in his own bitterness.

---

As the evening progressed, Astarion witnessed Shadowheart shooting glances back at him while pretending to be drunker than she was and leaning towards Alina, cuddling her excessively. The half-elf rogue would become flustered, but accept her companion’s innocent appearing clinginess nonetheless.

Astarion rolled his eyes at the cleric’s antics, ignoring the blatant spite thrown his way, well aware of the game she was playing.

Two could play that game, but something prevented him from stepping in and participating. He knew it would be a simple win for him – To saunter over, say “hello darling,” sit next to Alina, pull her against his body and nobody would even dare to approach her the rest of the night, no doubts about it.

But it would be a sour win on his part, because it wouldn’t be just a silly game to him at that point.

Shadowheart leaned to hug Alina, resting her head over the rogue’s shoulder to make direct eye contact with Astarion. He watched as the cleric played with Alina’s hair and how she returned the sentiment with a couple friendly strokes of her own.

Astarion just smiled at Shadowheart, feigning calmness in front of her adversarial behavior.

Much to his delight, Scratch the dog suddenly appeared and bombarded Shadowheart with a slobbery storm of affectionate licks as revenge for not paying enough attention to him.

The cleric pulled away from Alina, both hands sheltering her face from the onslaught of jealous canine love. Astarion chuckled with his book in hand, watching Shadowheart trying to fend off the furry fiend, resorting to running away altogether.

Alina laughed at Shadowheart’s mock panic and Astarion felt all the more better for it.

---

After nightfall, Astarion waited. He laid still in the silent dimness of his tent, waiting for Alina to come to him, if she ever would. He stared up at the purple fabric ceiling of his enclosed resting quarters. A lonesome wax candle provided a comfortable amount of light to ease the cold darkness of the night.

It had been a couple days since their latest meeting and he was hoping she would come by for another night of passion, especially after what transpired earlier that evening. He had a lot of things on his mind he’d want a distraction from.

He thought about how it felt when he saw Gale being so close to Alina, looking so intimate without ever having to take his clothes off or throwing himself at her.

He thought about the conversation with Shadowheart and the hesitancy he felt despite clearly being in the right.

He was right.

Because if he wasn’t, then he’d lost not only to her, but to himself as well.

The shuffle of fabric and a familiar form sliding inside his tent snapped him out of his head. A relieved smile grew upon his lips when he laid his eyes on Alina. The half-elf rogue smiled back at him, her cheeks already red.

“Hi,” she said shyly.

“Good evening, darling.”

“Do you mind some company for tonight?”

“You know I never mind if it’s you, darling.”

“You are allowed to say no if you aren’t feeling it, you know,” she countered sweetly, taking a seat next to his feet.

He said nothing to her offer, instead choosing to admire her form to further drive in her welcome status in his presence.

Alina turned to admire the solemn lonely candle glowing on the small nightstand at the corner, allowing Astarion a moment to take her in. She was donning her regular loose camp clothes: A white, long sleeved collar shirt, basic brown trousers and simple leather shoes.

An unassuming combination, that was worn more for comfort than style, hiding away most of her surprisingly curvy body.

Astarion lifted himself up to his elbows and hooked up one of his knees, giving Alina a seductive look.

“So, looking for a cuddle?” He blurted without thinking.

Alina turned her head to him, eyes wide in mild surprise.

Astarion reeled for a couple fateful seconds and attempted to remedy his momentary breach of character. He cleared his throat and fixed his smile.

“Cuddling sounds nice.” Alina tilted her head with a smile.

“Oh, but surely, you’re looking for more than just a simple cuddle, aren’t you, you sweet little thing!” He purred and watched as Alina’s cheeks grew in color.

She giggled.

“I was wondering if you’re hungry, actually.”

It was a silly question. He was always hungry. Such was the nature of being a vampire. It was still kind of her to ask such a thing, because it wasn’t a question as much it was an offer.

Astarion kept smiling and nodded. He pushed himself up to sit. Alina nodded and crawled closer. She laid herself next to him on the bedroll and scooted flush against him. He took position over her, like so many nights before.

Alina’s golden eyes blinked up at him calmly. Her gaze was relaxed and her body at ease under him despite what was to come. It was in stark contrast to their first feeding session, back when they barely knew each other and all he cared about was rebelling against his master.

Alina had been afraid. She had been tense and could barely mask the shivering of her body when he took his first drink of her delicious life blood. Since then, she’d grown accustomed to it all, the slight pain, numbness and subsequent wooziness afterwards.

Astarion had gotten better at the biting thing himself, finding a comfortable position, able to break skin without too much pain and drinking just enough to sate himself and little enough to not make Alina too ill.

He took one of her hands into his, kissed the back of it and laced their fingers together before leaning in. He rested their joined hands against the side of her head and heard a small hum escape Alina’s throat.

He could have just drunk from her wrist, but both of her forearms were littered with the same destructive marks from her debt owner as her back was. Another spot he had rarely seen and touched directly, fully covered up by her long sleeves even now.

Sensitive. Painful. Intimate.

Alina turned her head for him and exposed the column of her neck, revealing a faint set of bite marks from earlier feedings. Astarion trailed his nose along her freckled skin, hovering over her pulse point, inhaling the intoxicating scent of fresh apples and vanilla that lingered on her body and clothes.

Among her scent were hints of paper and ink, Gale’s cologne, wine and Shadowheart’s perfume.

He felt the stinging in his heart return and felt an urge to retaliate.

He could just bite harder than usual and make Alina feel a smidgen of the burning, stinging pain he was feeling inside his cold hard chest.

That, if anything, would serve her right for making him feel this way.

The sharp ends of Astarion’s fangs pressed against Alina’s subtle flesh, his breath ice cold and heavy on her skin. He opened his maw wider, ready to let the beast take over and punish her, but pulled back moments before it could.

What good would come of him inflicting more pain on her than necessary?

He was in pain and wanted her to know it. But had Alina not suffered just as much as he had already – as proven by the scars she carried on both of her forearms and back?

And unlike him, still showed him kindness, gave him comfort, forgave his shortcomings?

Astarion paused.

Those were all characteristics that pulled him towards her in the first place, what made her so malleable and quite frankly, easy to manipulate. It was also why she was so well liked by the whole camp, him included.

She was…sweet. Truly, and honestly sweet.

He couldn’t hurt her like that, shouldn’t hurt her like that.

He blinked a couple times and ran the fingers of his free hand across the side of her neck as if wiping away loose strands of her hair. The hand that clutched against his gripped harder for a moment. A signal of her continued comfort. Alina’s eyes remained closed, blissfully unaware.

She trusted him so blindly, but he could barely even grin in her presence without feeling like a fraud.

Astarion’s heart ached.

Alina was so close, and yet so far.

And no matter how many times he shed his and her clothes off, he knew that that kind of closeness would only ever be skin deep.

He swallowed and pressed a long kiss against the bite scars on Alina’s throat – like a wordless apology, seeking forgiveness for a sin he had committed against her.

He kissed her neck again and again, each time sinking lower beneath her collar, trying to make amends the only way he felt he could.

Eventually, Alina turned her head to peek at him. She raised herself slightly and brushed a hand through the side of Astarion’s face, a curious look in her eyes.

He smiled at her, hoping to come off as genuine enough.

“I find myself extremely peckish for more than just your neck tonight, darling.”

“You do?” She grinned at him, the corners of her eyes crinkling from joy.

“Hmmm.” Alina kept smiling and tilted her head, inspecting Astarion’s face.

“We can get better acquainted once you’ve had your fill.”

“You know I never have my fill, not when it’s you, sweetheart.”

“Oh, you romantic you.” Alina grinned and rested her head back down, her neck fully exposed once more.

Astarion chuckled and decided not to dally any longer. He leaned back in, sinking his fangs into her neck confidently. Alina tensed momentarily, but relaxed after a while, rubbing her thumb soothingly against the hand she was still holding firmly.

Astarion sighed against Alina’s skin, tasting the heavenly nectar in his mouth, swallowing it with big earnest gulps. This was what he wished his wine goblet was filled with whenever he drank and not that rank, vile bile they carried along backpack loads of.

He reveled in her taste and the pleasant hotness that brought his body back closer to life with each swallow.

Alina’s pulse grew more erratic and he knew it was time to stop. He pulled away, licking long languid lines over the two new punctures on her skin. Alina giggled and Astarion began to kiss down towards her open collar again.

His body was practically singing to him – his usually cold limbs felt warm and lively, his skin more sensitive. All his other senses were more keen and sharp as well, his eyes able to spot the tiniest of motions, his nose the smallest of differences in scent, his ears hearing every stifled little sound.

Astarion sucked on the skin at the edges of Alina’s shirt, then bit on the fabric, playfully yanking on it with his fangs. Alina’s pulse remained high and her breathing heavy. She brushed a hand through the back of Astarion’s head, playing with the loose curls at the nape of his neck.

She unlaced their hands and reached to unbutton her shirt for him.

Astarion followed along with each opened button, kissing down the line of skin that revealed beneath the parting shirt. Alina let out pleased little gasps as he went, her hand falling behind his head again, petting through his hair soothingly.

His own breathing had grown heavier and his body was slowly reacting to Alina’s growing arousal. Yet, a part of his mind was still occupied by the way Gale and Shadowheart clung themselves to Alina, seemingly more intimate with her.

He might have held her body, but her heart was out of his reach.

His mouth fixated over Alina’s sternum, just above where her beating heart laid. His fangs dragged over her skin, the maw within him hungry to dig itself deeper and sink its fangs into the ever beating muscle.

He became aware of himself again after Alina let out a pained whimper and he saw the small bleeding scratches that his fangs had left on her chest.

He met Alina’s gaze, silent panic rising inside of him. He tried to smile it off, but felt the edges of his lips drag downwards instead.

“...Astarion?” Alina asked with worry.

Astarion panted.

He felt out of breath despite not needing to breathe at all.

“Were you still hungry…?”

“Yes, that’s it. I was just…”

He was in pain again. A deep, stinging burning inside his chest, coiling around his heart like thorny vines that were on fire. He swallowed dryly, almost missing the sour wine he had downed earlier.

He snapped back to it again when two warm hands cupped each side of his face, turning his head. He came face to face with Alina. She looked patient as a saint, kind like an angel.

“You can have more if you want,” she said softly.

“I…”

He stared into her eyes without blinking, studying the calmness of them. Her pupils were blown wide as she studied him back, her whole demeanor giving off a sense of tender affection.

With that he let Alina guide him back towards her throat. He inhaled the coppery remnants of the previous wounds and nuzzled against them.

His stomach felt comfortably warm, his vampiric hunger sated for tonight. Drinking more of her blood would help to keep it that way longer, but would do little to ease the tightness in his chest.

But admitting to something else would mean losing the game.

Astarion hesitated and kissed the wounds, then bit back through the fresh fang marks, slightly missing and punctured another set crookedly beside them. Alina let out a stifled whine. Astarion pushed Alina down against the ground, once more drinking from her like a desert during a rainstorm, unquenchable, insatiable.

He pulled away when Alina’s pulse began to dip, knowing he passed the line of comfort for her. A red tainted string of spit connected his lips to her neck. Two sets of fang marks now decorated the side of her neck, blooming red from irritation and spilled blood.

Alina panted slow and heavy, her eyes clearly more unfocused.

“… Any better?” She asked weakly.

He nodded.

His stomach felt fuller, but his chest tighter than before.

“How are you feeling…?” He asked barely above a whisper and Alina blinked up at him.

She looked paler, but her cheeks were still somewhat flushed.

“I’m fine, just a little woozy.” She smiled.

He nodded and managed a tiny smile himself.

“Fine enough to ‘get better acquainted’?” He teased.

Alina flashed him a grin and nodded.

He hadn’t lost the game.

---

Discarding both of their clothes came easy to him. Astarion did so swiftly and without any trouble, an art he had over two centuries of time to perfect.

Astarion left Alina’s shirt on as he always did, to ease her mind off of the scars on her back and forearms, even if he wouldn’t mind seeing them.

Since when did he feel this way?

He’d seen them back at the grove with everyone else. Deep, ugly gashes running every which way up and down her back. Hideous to look at. Her forearms were no better, and if it weren’t for Gale, he and everyone else would have been spared from knowing what grotesque scarring from consistent and regular torture looked like.

At the time, he felt lucky his own were just a morbid poem his master carved onto his flesh over the course of a night. A long, agonizingly painful night, but just a single night nonetheless. Still, he couldn’t bare thinking of actually seeing the scar himself and was partially glad, he probably never would have to.

Alina panted beneath him. His hips moved against hers in languid motions, controlled and automatic. Astarion had both of his hands clasped with hers on each side of her head, their fingers tightly intertwined. She was looking directly at him, her golden eyes filled with desperate want.

Her body felt hot and sweaty against him. Her core was slick and swollen from arousal, making it easy for him to keep up his pace. Alina whimpered and moaned quietly beneath him, either conscious of her own voice and purposefully keeping it down, or too tired to let the world know how good she was feeling.

Even without her usual vocalizations, Astarion knew how good she was feeling. The subtle trembles of her body, the way her back arched when he aimed his hips a certain way… It wouldn’t be difficult to force her voice out, but tonight, it didn’t feel appropriate.

Instead, he drank in the quiet noises of pleasure that slipped past her lips, satisfied by the private secrecy it gave to their little rendezvous. He smiled and increased his pace to edge her further. Alina’s jaw gaped and she let out a pitiful gasp. Her hands grasped his even tighter, her nails digging into his skin.

He smiled, enjoying the view of their group’s resourceful, witty leader rendered into soft, quivering putty in his hands.

Alina squirmed under him, a telltale sign of her approaching release.

Astarion’s flesh yearned its own release, his abdomen tightening in preparation as he watched Alina’s pleasure contorted face. It was like clockwork these days. Watching Alina as she came apart in his hands did things to him, things he never thought he could feel with another person.

Every movement came automatic to him, practiced to perfection like a rigorous dance. No room for self-expression, lest it break the fantastic illusion he was projecting. He felt himself slip away, but was immediately yanked back into the moment by hungry kisses.

Alina licked her way into his mouth, skillfully pulling all his attention back to her. She was growing so close, the way her wet folds clasped his strained length confirmed it.

He let his focus slip away in the moment, knowing once Alina reached her peak, he’d get his – a treat he got to experience almost without fail with her.

Alina’s hands slipped away from his lazy grasp and winded over and around his neck and shoulders, pulling their bodies flush together. Her soft, ample chest squished against his toned chest and her plush thighs pressed harder against his sides. One of her hands settled behind his back, while the other tangled lovingly into his hair.

His own confused hands felt around the bedroll before instinctively wrapping under Alina’s back, holding her tight.

She broke the kiss that had continued all this time and panted right next to his ear, her voice whiny and desperate.

“Astarion…!” Alina whimpered and Astarion felt a jolt run through his spine.

He rocked his hips harder and Alina’s legs fell wider apart. Her voice threatened to grow in volume and pitch, but Astarion got overwhelmed by an increasing need to keep all of this moment to himself. He sealed her mouth with his own, capturing each and every moan between his lips.

He tasted every corner of her mouth, already knowing each and every inch of it, still not bored to explore through it all over again. Alina kissed him back fervently. Her tongue pushed boldly past his back into his mouth, unafraid of the sharp fangs that might scrape and make her bleed.

Astarion moaned when he felt one of Alina’s hands stroking through his curls and lightly yanking at the strands every now and then. The hand over his back was digging its nails into his skin, a slightly painful, but welcome feeling he’d grown to enjoy.

Finally, Alina’s breathing grew erratic and her movements shaky. Astarion smiled against her lips and brought her over the edge, soon following suit. Alina’s pleasure bloomed around him, heated wetness convulsing around him as he spilled inside of her. His hips shook against her, their rhythm broken and uneven. He hummed against Alina’s lips, the blissful heat of his own orgasm washing over him.

Both of them stilled, the silence around them filled only by their heavy breathing and the occasional wet sound of their conjoined bodies still moving against one another.

Astarion moved to separate their bodies, but Alina wrapped her legs around his lower back, trapping him in place. She cupped his face with both hands and kissed him slowly. Astarion blinked in surprise and eased into Alina’s wordless demands, allowing her to shower him with more physical affection.

Usually he parted their bodies quickly after everything was done, like finishing a smooth, clean business transaction with no further clauses to fill. It was how he used to go about things. A neat modus operandi to keep things simple and to prevent himself from getting too involved.

Alina was an exception – “a regular”, as he sometimes thought to himself. He found himself slipping further from his own rules each night he spent in Alina’s embrace, lured in by her sweet nature and the gentle allure of her touch.

She caressed his cheek with a thumb.

“That felt good.” Alina said softly.

“I am well aware. You were about to wake up the whole camp again…”

Alina’s happiness died and turned to embarrassment. Her blush reached all the way up to her pointy ears.

“No I wasn’t.”

“Oh, yes you were, sweetheart.”

“I held back.” She claimed.

“Correction. I held you back.”

“Maybe.” Alina peeked to her side, feigning ignorance.

Astarion chuckled.

“I am in control of you darling.”

“Are you?” Alina tightened her legs around his lower back and rolled them over.

Astarion let out a little whimper, staring up at Alina in shock. She sat upon his hips with her back straight, hands drawing lazy patterns on his abdomen.

“You’re more than welcome to prove me otherwise.”Alina smiled and leaned down over to him.

Astarion smiled and remained where he was, allowing Alina to pull him into another slow kiss. He relaxed against her, thinking through her statement and forgot about it altogether, melting into her kiss.

All thoughts about Gale and Shadowheart were gone, pushed off the cliff of his mind into the pit of obscurity.

Alina was here, in his arms. He had her all to himself, and she had him all to herself.

He had lost the game to himself.

[angelic-dew]

So you do alphabet lists? Can I get J, R and P from the nsfw list for Sanemi and Rengoku?

please and thanks 🤍

# NSFW! J, R, P !

▸🍓・yuri's thoughts :: i'm alive! not for long though.

▸🍰・pairing :: Kyojuro R. x afab reader ⁞⁞ Sanemi S. x afab reader — {you/your pronouns | separately done}

▸✖・trigger warnings :: nsfw. semi-public sex. rough sex. teasing. implied vaginal sex.grammatical errors. || minors gtfo - 18+ content. proofread.

⮚ 𝐊𝐘𝐎𝐉𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐊𝐔..

[J]ack off :: masturbation headcanon

I don't see him doing it often, if he needs relief he can always seek you out; it's pointless to rub one out if you are in the picture. However, when he is away from you, craving your tender touch.. he can't help himself but seek his own pleasure, the lust quenching his thirst for you.

Kyojuro can't help but envision you, the haze in his eyes can almost drive him breathless as he dips his head back. His precious gold locks fall after him perfectly as his grip tightens around his hardened length. No matter how satisfying this may feel, no matter how much his touch sends him over the moon, with every stroke. Nothing can compare to the pleasure you can provide him.

[R]isk :: are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.

He is a bit iffy when it comes to risks. He's playful when it comes to doing the deed and wouldn't mind if you mixed a few things up; but, he cares about your pleasure more than his, he wants to make you feel toe-curling pleasure as he indulges himself in you. Rengoku is definitely what one may consider 'shy' when it comes to risks, since he prefers to prioritize your comfortableness before all else.

Convince him it'll be okay though, coax him through it all and slowly trail your fingers along his V-line. Your touches are gentle yet so enticing. Teasing him in each and every one of your ministrations as he whispers sweet praises and timid words into your ear. "Are you sure about this, sunshine?" he spoke softly as you felt his erection pressed firmly against your thigh. His arm was wrapped around your waist as his free hand began to caress your soft skin, leaving behind sweet, lingering touches that pleased your heated core. You want him now, don't you? He'll just have to take you behind the building.

[P]ace :: are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.

I'd say our Umai King is definitely one to start off slow and gentle, making sure he isn't hurting you at all. He cannot bear the sight of hurting you right off the bat, it simply won't sit right with him - so he tries his best to calm your nerves with his reassuring words and soft touches. He loves you, and in moments like these you're irresistible to him; he must let you know that you're perfect every second of every day, even in moments like this.

His hand would grip your waist, his thumb brushing over your delicate skin; the feel of him is so gentle, too gentle. It's as if you're made of delicate porcelain, he can't afford to break you. His other hand is acquainted with your soft cheek, caressing it playfully as he whispers into your ear, almost too quietly. "Mmm—Does it feel good darling?"

⮚ 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐄𝐌𝐈 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐙𝐔𝐆𝐀𝐖𝐀..

[J]ack off :: masturbation headcanon

Meat beater 5000. I need not say more; as soon as it hits him, he has to just whip the entire thing out. No second thought or regard for anything else, get rid of the issue and he can go about his schedule peacefully. (well not peacefully, we know how Sanemi is). He won't actively seek you out if he does pop one up, not even a second thought to do so; until he starts craving for your touch to suffice for the warmth that's missing.

It's easy to say that the wind hashira indulges in his own pleasure quite frequently when he has the time to do so. Whenever there's an erection he just can't leave alone, he has to get rid of it in some way or another. That's until he's in his private chambers, his hand firmly holding the base of his cock perfectly in his hands as if the two were made for each other. He rubs away at his tip, red and bulbous with anger as he begins to bite his lip, his chest beginning to rise up and down rapidly. His breaths are growing sharper, heavier. He misses the way you make him feel, the way you'd take away the stress and help the waves of pleasure wash over him. He needs you more than ever now, won't you fulfil a selfish request?

[R]isk :: are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc

Yes, yes and yes. He is willing and ready to try out anything that's steamy, new kinks, new things to spice it up? He is willing to test out what he likes and dislikes from it all. He does enjoy the experimenting factor of it all, but he would also enjoy the thrill of having (semi)-public sex. There's a certain excitement that wants him to push his limits with you, wants him to see how far he can take it until you snap beneath him.

The eldest son of the Shinazugawa family can be considered sadistic at times when it comes to having his way with you. His hands would crawl along your soft skin, his touch rough yet needy as he brushed his lips against yours; the grin on his face would be imbedded in your memory as he enticed you to take him. His words were so gentle, yet his hands displayed the complete opposite. "Oh doll, you're so fucking pretty—i gotta have you now." he whispered devilishly as a teasing hand began to caress the skin near your lower region. The lust in his eyes for you were evident, and were also so in his words. Won't you help a man in need?

[P]ace :: are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.

R-O-U-G-H. say it with me now, ROUGH. Sanemi could get lost in his pleasure, he wants his cravings to be met with immediate action. That doesn't mean he's wild with it though, sure he may be rough on you but he makes sure you know that he loves you in the process. Making you feel like you're wanted and loved with a few words of encouragement in between.

Your legs are messily thrown over his shoulders, and his pace doesn't seem to get any slower, in fact, it's gotten even faster as the minutes tick by. How much stamina can one man have? You feel like you've gone senseless by now, he has already filled you with his first load, the gooey remanence of the past round leaked out of your poor, abused entrance. A hand gripped your waist forcefully, you're sure there will be bruises there by morning as another hand cups your breast; fondling with your nipple teasingly. You two are hot and dripping with perspiration, you're a mess, yet he has the audacity to speak up, "Mmm! yeah, darling, you're so fucking pretty like that, stay like it, please."

© angelic-deww - reblogs are appreciated ! <3

[221castiel]

For research-

[dc-marvel-crossovers]

To celebrate and promote DC/Marvel crossovers, we’re hosting a “fanworks of fanworks” event!

Participants create fanworks in various mediums of existing crossover fics. The idea is to connect a community of writers, artists, and appreciators of DC/Marvel crossovers.

More under the cut, or in doc form here.

How it Works:

Writers submit a bookmark of their existing DC/Marvel crossover work (one fic or series per submitting author) to an Ao3 collection. Writers will also need to create at least one fanwork (any medium) of another author’s fic, but that comes later; see step 2. After bookmarking your fic, complete this form.

You do not have to submit a fic to participate! Participants sign on to create up to five fanworks of submitted fics, within the following categories: playlist, art, collage/moodboard, remix fic, timestamp/sequel fic, and podfic. Details below. If you’re interested in fanworking (but aren’t submitting a fic) and you want an email with a ping once the submission period closes, put your email on the list here! 

Writers and fanworkers are encouraged to share ideas and promote each other’s work!

Guidelines for the Event:

Writers will be able to indicate which types of fanwork they’re okay with their fic receiving. Each fic submitted will receive at least one fanwork, but can receive up to one of each type. A fic cannot receive more than one of each type of work.

If participants choose to create more than one fanwork, they each need to be for a different fic — you can’t sign on to do more than one type for the same fic. Participants can do more than one of a type (as long as they’re for different fics). For example, you can do playlists for up to five different fics, or a playlist for two fics plus a remix for three fics.

Any crossover of Marvel and DC is eligible — no restrictions on content, pairing, or length. But keep in mind that if people don’t want to read your fic, it’s less likely to get multiple claims.

A fic with more than one author can be submitted by one of the authors, even if a co-author has submitted a different fic of their own. The writer who submits the fic is solely responsible for participation and fanwork creation.

Timeline:

January 1 - Fic submissions close; reading window opens! Participants are encouraged to read all the fics in the collection before choosing which ones they’d like to fanwork. 

January 14 - First round claims — for writers only, to guarantee that each fic gets at least one fanwork.

January 21 - Open claims start. Once your claim is confirmed on the Big Spreadsheet you can start creating/posting immediately.

February 29 - Tentative deadline for posting fanworks. If a lot of people express interest we may set up staggered posting dates.

Types of Fanworks:

All fanworks need to be posted on Ao3 using the “inspired by” feature. If you need help embedding images or whatever else, we can help you figure that out, but you do need an Ao3 account. 

Original art. Digital preferred, but if you’d rather create traditionally and then scan to upload, we can work with that. 

Collage/moodboard. You can use a simple grid layout, or get more creative with it. These should have at least nine elements involved. 

Playlist. At minimum, ten songs. These will get posted to Ao3 either using a screenshot of the track listing, by typing out each track name/artist, or embedding the playlist. You can also include cover art, explanations of why you chose each song, snippets of lyrics, links to each song on YouTube, etc, if you want to get more in-depth with it. 

Timestamp/sequel fic. Maximum 5000 words. Fill in a scene that takes place during the original fic but did not make it into the original story, or write a sequel. 

Remix fic. Maximum 5000 words. Put your own spin on the plot of the original fic. Keep the original characters, but you can add additional characters to a scene, or see how one character making a different choice would change the whole plot, or reverse their roles, etc. 

Podfic. This one is pretty self-explanatory. Ideally, podfic should be complete by the end of the posting window, but if you’re working with a long fic and want to break it up, make sure you have at least one chapter posted. 

Questions? Message us on tumblr or email dc.marvel.crossover.mod@gmail.com

[ckret2]

do you have an estimate for what the current published wordcount of goldilocks is? i'm curious, i think somewhere around 300k maybe? i don't know if you have chapters in different docs or anything, so if it's inconvenient to look please don't go out of your way to give me a number, i understand ^^

Yeah, all my chapters are in different docs.

I try to keep each chapter around 5000 words, and when I miss that mark I more often go over than under, so average chapter length is probably somewhere between 5000 and 6000 words. Based on that, at 57 chapters, we're probably between 285k and 342k words. So yeah, 300k is a good guess.

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 5 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley is thankful every day of the year, but over Thanksgiving weekend, you and the Nugget give him even more than he anticipated. When he takes you back to the scene of the crime for your first wedding anniversary, he shares more of his notebook with you.

Warnings: Fluff, smut, cum play, swearing, pregnancy

Length: 5000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. 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.

"Why is it so crowded?" you whined, pushing a shopping cart behind Bradley as he wound his way through Costco on Monday.

"Because everyone is doing the same thing we're doing," he said as he grabbed whichever turkey he could get his hands on. "Shopping for Thanksgiving dinner."

You were exhausted and tired of getting jostled around. You were getting close to the end of your second trimester, and you felt like you could curl up in the shopping cart and fall asleep. Today was also the first day of your annoying new routine of visiting the ladies' locker room after work to change out of your maternity tent. At least you got to talk to Phoenix for a few minutes. She even made a fuss over your belly and called you cute. But there was no way you were leaving base in your new uniform.

When you looked down at yourself in your stretchy tank top, even you could tell that your sore boobs looked bigger. You caught Bradley eyeing them up so frequently, it was almost comical. When you called him out on it, he would grunt some sort of response while his cheeks turned pink. And every time you let him take your bra off and do as he pleased, he was a rock hard, needy mess almost instantly. But he was also gentle and tentative, almost bringing you to orgasm with his mouth on your breasts alone.

You moaned softly, and he turned to look at you with wide, brown eyes. "Excuse me?" he asked, eyebrows shooting up. "You okay back there?"

"Yeah," you whispered breathlessly. "You know how much I love my Costco Daddy." Now you were thinking about the time you earned a spanking during one of your shopping trips, and you didn't know how you were going to make it home when your husband looked so fucking good in his uniform.

"What did you call me?" he asked playfully, his hands coming up to his narrow waist as you slumped against the cart and whined.

"Costco Daddy." This time you said it loud enough that a few people turned to see what you were talking about, but you didn't care. 

"I guess we should hurry up then," Bradley remarked casually, but that was pretty impossible to do when the store was as crowded as it was. You watched Bradley fight his way through the produce area so he could grab carrots and sweet potatoes, wearing a little smirk on his face the whole time. You tried to push him with the cart when he was taking too much time picking out a can of cranberry sauce, and he just chuckled but didn't budge at all.

"Roo," you whined softly.

"This is the last thing we need to get," he said, and then he made things even worse by standing behind you with his hands on your belly while you waited in line to pay.

His lips were soft on your ear and the side of your jaw as you gripped the shopping cart. His body was pressed against yours as he asked, "Is she moving around right now, Sweetheart?"

He'd been on a quest to feel the baby doing her somersaults, but he came up empty handed every time. "I think she's sleeping," you told him as his big palms moved around slowly. "You'll feel her soon. She loves it when you're around."

Bradley let his chin rest on your shoulder, and you were treated to his deep, needy sigh. You had no doubt where he was looking as the line started to move up and his thumbs grazed the undersides of your breasts. "As soon as we get home, your shirt is coming off."

"You're obsessed, Roo."

Even when it was your turn to pay, Bradley kept his eyes on you as he loaded up the cart again. The two of you walked to the far side of the parking lot where he insisted on leaving the new Bronco so it didn't get dinged up. Then he got you buckled in while he unloaded everything into the back, but you surprised him by climbing right onto his lap as soon as he was in the driver's seat.

He let his hands settle on your hips with a big smile on his face as you straddled his right thigh. "I don't know what you're planning on doing here, Baby Girl, but it's not quite dark out yet. Not that I mind. I know how much you like it in public."

But you started rubbing yourself against his leg, and he got quiet, his smile remaining intact. You tried your best to keep some space between his upper body and yours while you rubbed your pussy against your husband with two pairs of uniform pants between you. The friction was delicious, and Bradley leaned back in the seat with his hands still on your hips as you whispered, "I couldn't wait until we get home."

He helped guide you along as the rolling motion as you rode him brought you closer to where you needed to be. "I can wait until we get home," he rasped. "But when we do, I want you on your knees with those tits covered in my cum."

"Bradley!" you whined as his hands eased up your sides, grazing your breasts, goading you on faster.

"Take your time," he whispered, and you could feel how hard he was getting. But you didn't even need more time when he looked and smelled so damn good. Your hands settled on his insignia pins and name tag as you ground down harder and moaned his name.

He let you collapse against his body as you came, whining about how horny you were all the time right now until your orgasm started fading away. Then his hand slid down and squeezed your butt and he whispered, "Let's get home. Now."

Bradley helped you buckle in again, and then he took your hand in his as he started quickly driving home. When he needed both hands, he set yours down right on his hard length. You were still in a daze as you stroked him, working him up and making him throb. He grunted your first name which brought you back down enough to unzip his pants as he turned down the block toward the craftsman.

"You still want me on my knees?" you asked a little breathlessly as you got your hand around him, and Bradley's deep chuckle in response gave you goosebumps.

"There is only ever going to be one answer to that question, my love."

You were practically drooling at his words as he parked in the driveway and carefully withdrew your hand from inside the fly of his pants. Then he hopped out of the Bronco with his pants unzipped and his shirt an untucked mess before helping you carefully down onto the driveway. He gave you one of the sweetest kisses of your life which surprised you before he laced his fingers with yours and led you up the walkway at a leisurely pace. 

Once the front door was unlocked, he leaned in, kissed you one more time, his hard cock brushing your pregnant belly through his pants. "Yes, Baby Girl," he rasped. "I still want you on your knees."

You couldn't help but smile as you held his hand a little tighter, and he helped you get into position to give him exactly what he wanted. After he shut the door, you yanked your shirt and bra off and listened to him groan so loudly, Tramp briefly ran into the living room and back out again. After you got Bradley's pants and boxer briefs down around his boots, he lasted about thirty seconds between your lips before he was panting and stuttering.

"B-Baby Girl. Sweetheart." You let him jerk himself off, coating your chest in cum, just like he'd done in the garage last week. Just like he'd done in the shower two days ago. Then you let him play with it, making an even bigger mess before he helped you get cleaned up.

You had the distinct feeling that if you wanted anything in the whole world right now, all you'd need to do is ask him for it while topless, and it would be yours.

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

"I'm trying my best," Bradley growled. The turkey he randomly grabbed at Costco on Monday while you were a horny mess was huge, and it didn't really fit in your fancy baking dish thing.

"How am I supposed to stuff it?" you asked him, pouting in your sports bra, underwear, and I Love Meat apron. He was about an inch from telling you he didn't even care about the turkey and wanted to stuff you instead, but he knew you'd make a face at him since company was coming over. Not that he thought Jake Seresin counted as company. Now if your parents were here today, sure, he'd be on his best behavior. But Jake? Nope.

He shoved the turked into the baking dish and said, "That's as good as it's gonna get. Stuff it, and I'll lift it into the oven for you." 

He kissed your cheek and retreated to the bedroom where he wanted to go over his list one more time, just to make sure he knew what he had to do before Saturday. As he pulled the sheet of paper from his nightstand drawer, he sat on the edge of the bed. He had to find a way to sneak a cake into the house tomorrow and hide it from you. That was going to be challenging. There was also the matter of hiding all of the flowers if he decided to pick them up ahead of time.

"Shit," he muttered, remembering he needed to get the non-alcoholic champagne down from the torn apart attic sometime tomorrow. Maybe you wouldn't notice him messing around up there if he did it later when you were in the shower.

"Bradley!" you called out, your voice echoing down the short hallway. "Come here!"

He was on his feet instantly, heart pounding as he let the paper fall to the floor while he raced for you. "What happened?" he called out, panicking even more when he saw you doubled over as he reached the kitchen. "What happened?" He had his hands wrapped around your biceps, heart climbing up into his throat. You finally looked up at him as you gasped and started to untie your apron.

"She's moving so much right now," you told him, and it took him a second to realize you were smiling as the apron hit the floor. "Maybe you'll be able to feel her."

"Oh," he gasped, relief flooding his system even as he sank to his knees in front of you. When he placed his big hands on your belly and looked up at your perfect face, you slid his hands further to your right side. Bradley leaned in and kissed your wedding rings as you guided him along, and that's when he felt her.

"Holy shit!"

"Yeah?" you asked, voice laced with giddy excitement. "You felt the kick?"

"Yes," he whispered in amazement. Then she did it again, and he scooted himself a little closer, pressing his lips to the spot next to your belly button. "Hey, little Nugget." He was met with another thump that left him smiling. "I love you."

You laughed as you ran your fingers through his hair and let him rest his cheek against your soft, warm skin. "She's doing somersaults now," you told him, and he could feel something like a soft squirm against his hand. "She gets really excited when she hears you."

"Is that true?" he asked softly. "I get excited when I even think about you." He stayed there for a very long time, letting you adjust his hand placement over and over so he could feel her, and he never wanted to let go. He thought about taking you to bed so he could lay next to your belly, but he was afraid his daughter might get too cozy and settle in for a nap.

Bradley was running his nose along in a little pattern where the baby was kicking when you eventually removed your fingers from his hair and said, "I need to start peeling the potatoes."

"I can do that," Bradley replied, and he felt another hard thump. "You're right, Sweetheart. I swear she knows it's me," he whispered, looking up at you again.

"She absolutely does, Roo."

After that, he had his hands all over you. When you left the kitchen to finally get dressed, he went along, too. When you went back to the kitchen to check on the turkey, he stood behind you with one hand wrapped around you. If you found it annoying, you didn't say a word about it, thankfully. When Jake, Cat and Jeremiah arrived, Bradley had his arm slung over your shoulders as you walked to the front door.

"Is she moving around right now?" he asked softly.

You smiled up at him. "I think she's snoozing. I'll let you know when she's back at it again." Then you pulled the door open, and his peaceful little bubble felt like it had been burst as Jake walked in carrying several pies and some coleslaw.

"Happy Thanksgiving, Angel," the blonde said before kissing your cheek. Bradley rolled his eyes as Jake headed for the kitchen with a little grin on his face. A split second later, Cat came in, and then Bradley had his arms full of Jeremiah.

"He might need his diaper changed," Cat told him before she followed you to the kitchen as well. "Now let me finish cooking everything while you rest," she told you with a smile, and Bradley was happy someone who knew what they were doing was here to help you now. And he supposed that the next best thing after feeling his own baby kick was getting to hang out with Jeremiah. 

Jake was digging around in the refrigerator, and he pulled out two beers before nodding at Bradley. "Let's go see how the playset is looking, old man," he said, opening one of the cans and handing it to Bradley.

The playset was almost done, and Bradley would have probably worked on it a little bit more today, but he got so distracted following you around everywhere. "You know, I'm not that much older than you," he told Jake as he carted Jeremiah over to look at the slide.

But Jake didn't seem to be in a teasing mood any longer as he looked at Cat's son in Bradley's arms. "You know... you never really told me how you did it."

"Did what?" Bradley asked, watching two little hands reach out toward the can of beer before he touched the rope ladder instead.

"How you got Angel to marry you. The more I think about it, the less sense it makes."

Bradley glanced back through the sliding glass door where you were sitting at the kitchen island while Cat started to boil the potatoes he'd peeled for you earlier. "You know, if you're going to be an asshole, you can just go home. I'll drive Cat and Jer back to Hondo's later."

"Shhh," Jake told him. "You can't say bad words in front of him. He's learning how to talk now."

"Sorry," Bradley whispered to the little boy who was all smiles. Then Jake's words really started to sink in as he studied Jeremiah's dark eyes and sipped his beer. "You want them to be your family."

Jake was pacing around the patio, rubbing his temple with his fingers. "Of course I do. But she won't go for it. Every time I bring it up, she has some sort of excuse. Last night, after I told her how much I love her, she tried to tell me that I'll grow tired of them and want my freedom."

"Damn," Bradley muttered. 

"What did I tell you about the bad words?" Jake snapped. 

"Sorry." Bradley watched him pace while he thought about how he proposed to you in a dirty storage unit surrounded by cardboard boxes and ugly antique furniture. "I don't know how I got her to marry me, Jake. All I know is as soon as I was holding the engagement ring, I needed it to be on her finger. Like suddenly there was no time to waste."

Bradley knew Jake would be a good dad. He obviously loved Jeremiah. But their conversation was cut short as you poked your head outside and said, "Roo? Will you come help me set the table?"

"I'm coming, Baby Girl."

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

Thanksgiving dinner turned out fantastic with some help from Cat. You saw how comfortable the other woman looked in the kitchen, so you just sat down and let her work. And while everything was delicious, nobody batted an eyelash when you made yourself some carrot sticks to dip into hot sauce. And then you covered your turkey in hot sauce. And you dipped your stuffing in hot sauce.

You were helping Bradley clean up before dessert when you said, "Oh! She's kicking again!"

He basically tossed everything into the sink and came running for you with wide eyes. "Where is she?" he asked softly, and you placed his hands for him. A second later, after you kissed the few silver hairs at his temple, he turned his head to smile at you while he said, "There she is."

"I want to feel the baby," Jake said, as he carried more dishes into the kitchen. The way Bradley pulled you in a little closer to him was almost comical; it wasn't like Jake of all people was going to hurt you.

"Just one little kick," Bradley insisted, and you reached out for Jake's hand. But as soon as he was touching you, the baby stopped her round of somersaults.

"I don't feel anything," Jake drawled, moving his hand slightly.

You shrugged and said, "She really seems to like Bradley's voice the most."

You watched your husband absolutely strut back into the dining room with a pie in each hand after that. And he was still grinning as he ate three slices. Even after your company left for the night with containers of leftovers, he looked smug. As soon as he got you snuggled up in bed, he propped his head on his elbow next to your belly and whispered, "You like Daddy's voice the most, huh?"

She seemed to respond by squirming a little bit, and you had to roll your eyes. "Of course she does. So do I."

He smiled up at you before kissing your belly and pulling your shirt down. "I'm going to try to finish the Nugget playset tomorrow, and then Saturday is my favorite day of the year."

"Our anniversary," you whispered with a yawn.

"The first of hopefully a hundred."

You were sound asleep before you could respond. Most of Friday was spent feeding Bradley little snacks while he worked in the yard and shopping online for nursery decor.

"Oh, this looks really cute," you said with a smile as you held up your phone. He came running over to see what you found, only to be annoyed by the U.S. Army themed baby bedding. "It was a joke!" you insisted before switching tabs to the one you actually liked. "This one is not a joke."

Bradley's face lit up as he looked at the pastel airplanes and soft blue and white clouds. "That's perfect," he whispered. "Just what our little girl needs."

"It's kind of expensive."

He just shook his head as he continued to look at your phone screen. "The Nugget wants it."

You were afraid that was going to become his new mantra. The baby had a full nursery worth of items purchased by the end of the day. But Saturday was a different story. When you woke up late and stretched, you realized you were in your bed alone. On your anniversary. Upon further inspection, you realized Bradley wasn't even home at all.

"What the fuck," you muttered to yourself as you stood in the kitchen. Your intention had been to make him stuffed French toast and coffee. You were even going to arrange some fruit in the shape of a heart on the plate, but now that he wasn't here, your idea just felt stupid. You got the fruit out anyway and dipped it in hot sauce for yourself instead, and after polishing off almost an entire carton of raspberries, you heard Tramp run for the front door.

Bradley rushed in wearing snug jeans and one of his tropical print shirts. His aviators were perched low on his nose, and he was holding a bouquet of yellow roses with a smile on his face. You were still wearing his ratty, old shirt, and you didn't even wash your face yet, but he took you gently in his arms and kissed you like you were the most incredible thing he'd ever seen.

"Happy anniversary, Baby Girl," he muttered against your lips. His body was warm from the sun, and he smelled fresh and delicious, and you melted into his arms. 

"Where were you? I was going to make you breakfast. Well, lunch I guess at this point."

Bradley cupped your cheek gently in his hand and said, "I had to get a few things ready for this afternoon."

"Right," you said, perking up a bit. "You said we're going back to the scene of the crime."

"We sure are," he confirmed, stroking your cheek with his thumb. "And I just want everything to be perfect for my girls."

You moaned softly. It was actually impossible to be annoyed with him when he was so sincere with pink tinted cheeks and flowers in his hand. "I'll make you some French toast," you whispered, and of course you ended up arranging the fruit into a heart. And of course you sat on his lap while he devoured two servings of the meal you made for him. 

"When are we going to the crime scene?" you asked as you brushed his hair back from his forehead.

He rubbed your belly and checked the time. "We can leave pretty soon. Go for a drive maybe? Then I'll surprise you with how romantic I am."

You kissed his nose and said, "I'm not even sure exactly what the scene of the crime is. That could be a lot of different places actually. Maybe the parking garage at the airport?" you asked with a raised eyebrow. "Or my old apartment?"

Bradley shook his head. "I don't think I could get Maria and Bob to stop fucking long enough for us to stop by there." You burst into laughter as he added, "But you'll find out shortly."

You let him keep his secrets as you finally got yourself ready to go out. You managed to squeeze into one of your sundresses, but you paired it with a zip up sweatshirt just in case it got chilly later on. When Bradley helped you into the blue Bronco and buckled you in, you asked, "Why does it smell so good in here?" The backseat and tailgate areas were covered with sheets and blankets so you couldn't even see anything, but it smelled sweet and flowery. 

"Don't worry about that yet," he rasped with a satisfied little smile on his face. "Just let me show my wife how much I love her." 

When he started the engine, he had already queued up the enormously long playlist of songs that reminded him of you, and you got to listen to him singing softly as he drove up the coast a little ways while the sun dipped lower in the sky. It was the perfect November day with a few clouds and warm air, and you held his hand while he started to head south again just as your stomach growled between songs. 

"You're hungry," he remarked, and you started hoping he had something planned involving food. "I made dinner, and we'll be there soon."

"You made dinner?" you asked, panic lacing your voice. "What did you make? Is everything okay?"

Bradley started laughing as he turned left. "Okay, made is a strong word. It didn't involve actually cooking anything, I'm sorry to say. But I wanted it to be edible for you."

You sighed and eased back in your seat, and that's when you realized where you were and what he had planned. "Roo," you whispered as the parking lot came into view. There were some orange cones lined up at both entrances, and when he pulled up and hopped out to move them, you read the permit attached to one of them.

SPECIAL PRIVATE EVENT

CITY OF SAN DIEGO

NOVEMBER 28

Then he hopped back in, pulled into the narrow parking lot that overlooked the cliffs beach, and he backed into a parking spot. He looked at you as he shifted into park and said, "The scene of the crime, Baby Girl. You stole my fucking heart."

You loved him so much, it was hard to put into words. "I wonder how many times I've kissed you since then," you whispered as you crawled toward him. "Since the first one, right here in this parking spot."

"Millions, probably. Could use a few more though." He was grinning as he patted his lap, and you were there in an instant. "Happy anniversary."

His words were muffled by your lips, and even with your growing belly, you seemed to fit perfectly against him. Bradley's big hand ran up your thigh and underneath your little dress, fingers stroking your skin with reverence as he parted your lips with his and tasted your tongue.

"I love you, Bradley."

The loud growl of your stomach left him laughing even as his hand made its way up to the lace trim of your underwear. He patted you on the butt and popped his door open. "Let me feed you and the Nugget dinner."

You eased yourself down onto the pavement, and Bradley followed you. When he opened the back door and pulled the blanket off the seat, you found a picnic basket, a cooler and a bakery box. When he dropped the tailgate and helped you climb in so you were overlooking the ocean, he pulled a sheet away to reveal probably hundreds of colorful roses, but most of them were yellow.

Tears filled your eyes as he ran around and unpacked dinner which consisted of carrot sticks, hot sauce, and peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. "I made your sandwich to your exact preference," he promised, also procuring a bottle of non-alcoholic pink champagne from the cooler. "And this is even safe for the Nugget."

You tried not to cry as you sat amongst the sweet smelling flowers with your sandwich in your hand and music playing softly. Bradley hopped in as well, and you felt the Bronco dip slightly as he settled in next to you with his own sandwich. He kissed your cheek just as the sun hit the horizon. You turned so your lips met his briefly before you said, "I'm obsessed with you."

"I'm obsessed with both of you."

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

The sun had set, and you were laying with your head in Bradley's lap, skimming the Nugget notebook which he'd brought along for a very specific reason. You read some of his musings out loud, often laughing at what he had written in there. He let his fingers drift along your belly while My Girl played from the front seat speakers, and he hummed along, occasionally pausing to feel his daughter kick.

Eventually his hand was under the fabric of your dress again, skimming along your embroidered Mrs. Bradshaw underwear, making you gasp softly before continuing up to your belly. You and he were alone in this parking lot where you got married, which was already pretty secluded on a regular day, but the permit ensured he could touch his wife like this to his heart's content.

The soft purple sky was pretty, but it had nothing on you as you looked up at him with wide eyes. "You wrote down some baby names," you sighed softly.

"I did." This was the reason he brought the notebook along. This was something he wanted to talk about when there were no other distractions except for him and you. "What do you think of them?" he asked, heart beating a little faster as he thought about his unborn child.

You read each of the girls' names softly out loud, and of course he still liked all of them, but when you got to his favorite, you read it and paused. "Rose." Bradley nodded, and you smiled, reaching to run your fingers along the plethora of soft petals that filled the back of the Bronco. "I think you like that one the most."

Bradley swallowed hard, holding his hand in place with his palm covering your belly button. "Rose Bradshaw. Yeah, that's my favorite one."

"I like it, too," you whispered, biting your lip with your eyes closed as you set the notebook aside.

"Yeah? You do?" he asked hopefully. "Because it makes me think about how we listened to the song together. Roses. Before you fell in love with me."

You started to sit up, and he helped you. "I remember. You played it for me on the piano," you told him with a smile. "That was the night at the Hard Deck when I scared the other girls away from you, because I was so jealous. I wanted you all to myself."

Bradley's heart felt lighter than air as he collected you in his arms. "I was already falling in love with you," he promised. "You just took a little more coaxing."

As your lips ghosted over his, you whispered, "Rose. Rosie. Yeah. I love it."

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

Okay, so that's a throwback. I love little Easter eggs and throwbacks! The Nugget has a name! Thanks for reading! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 6

@hotch-meeeeeuppppp

@chassy21

@solacestyles

@daisyhollyxox

@blog-name6996

@bcon24

@avada-kedavra-bitch-187

@katiebby04

@marantha

@averyhotchner

@abaker74

@heli991113

@k-k0129

@noz4a2

@shanimallina87

@little-wiseone

@ccbb2222

@xoxabs88xox

@thedroneranger

@cherrycola27

@fanboyswhore9

@xomrsalliej4787xo

@desert-fern

@horseslovers2016

@mattyskies

@hookslove1592

@blahehblah

@sadpetalsstuff

@local-spidey

@schoollover

@lex-winchester

@magicalmorg

@nicole01-23

@jessicab1991

@happyrebelruins

@samsgoddess

@ughthisisntright

@bellaireland1981

@sagittarius-flowerchild

@mygyn

@yuckosworld

@daggerspare-standingby

@nessjo

@trickphotography2

@lyn-js

@marve2014

@furiousladyking