#Tramp On The Street

[bobdylan-n-jonimitchell]

Joan Baez “Tramp On The Street” Struggle Mountain, Palo Alto, CA, 1969.

“When the battles are over and the victories won Everyone mourns for the poor man's son Red, white, and blue and victory sweet And they left him to die like a tramp on the street”

[chelledoggo]

gggggGOD WHY ARE CARTOON DOG COUPLES ALWAYS SO ADORABLE ;~; 💖

[thegreatyin]

damn this whole getting a ship stuff is really time consuming and resource intensive

you and me both anon

[curlsincriminology]

I was definitely like an evil street cat in a past life

[half-eaten-deodorant]

Asshole

[oakendesk]

book cover - 13 French Street - 1951

Dom Lupo

Barye Phillips repainted a very similar cover in 1957 - Little Tramp

[bgresearch]

Lady and the Tramp (1955)

[a-teardrop-of-the-sun]

oh boy tumblr i can't believe i forgot to tell you that on sunday(!!) night at barely 8pm, i saw a middle-aged man

stop in the street in front of an innocent busker just trying to sing a mediocre job of acoustic pop,

fully take off his shirt, and so (in addition to a judicious sampling of his butt crack) reveal to the entire street,

his GIANT – i mean truly one foot high and the width of his whole back (to the point that my nearsighted ass could see the fine details from half a block away) – FUCKING TRAMP STAMP of the name

~SAOIRSE~

(^artist's recreation)

[musicmoviefan]

Oh yeah!! One of many reasons I love Bruce and E Street!! ❤️‍🔥🔥❤️‍🔥🔥🥰🎼🤘🫶💖🎸🎷🎉🥰♥️☮️💗

The Legendary 1979 No Nukes Concerts

[cujus]

[yuthana]

Vintage retro car litho tin. Lady and the Tramp. Disney cartoon bus Japan tin friction powered. Masudaya <MT> Modern toys brand. made in Japan 60s.

https://www.ebay.com/itm/225549038403

Buy now on ebay site.

[choslut]

˖ ࣪ ، ◞ せ⌇ INKED. featuring s. geto.

↻ geto enjoys his job for this exact reason… he gets to give pretty girls like you your first ever tattoo.

tags : tattoos, slight masochism, dirty thoughts, suggestive actions, possessive behaviour, tattoo artist x florist trope, voice kink, dirty talk, praise kink, latex kink (if you squint), implied fingering, marking (literally and figuratively), implied virgin!reader, slight dubcon // wc. 1.1k

author's note : the longest one of the series… and possibly the longest author’s note too. i want to thank everyone who’s supported me throughout this event from the day i released the masterlist all the way up until the last work today!! i know i’ve said that every one of these have been my favourite but why not save the best ‘til last… this very specific image of geto haunts my (wet) dreams 🤤🤤 thank you again for all the support, because of you guys, i managed to go from 200 to over 900 followers !! 💓💓 i can’t thank you more, and i hope you enjoy this last work. this has been luna, and thank you for reading!!

pspsps …. you might want to stick around for my upcoming kinktober. it’s going to be a thriller…

“i would’ve never striked you as the type to want a tattoo, sweetie.” GETO looks at you over the frame of his glasses, eyebrow quirked as he confirms your appointment on his laptop. “and especially not one of this… calibre. is it your first time?”

you nod shyly, eyes averting from his gaze. he looks at the sheet of paper with your desired design on it, and the corners of his lips quirk upwards. a tramp stamp. totally not your type upon first glance. 

he’s looking forward to this. 

you’re a sweet enough girl. you wear denim miniskirts and baggy floral t-shirts, and your face is almost always bare, save for a few coats of mascara on your eyelashes and the occasional touch of lip gloss to make your features pop. you work in the flower shop across the street, and the only way geto can describe you is cute, and definitely not the type to want such a striking design tattooed on your lower back. it’s in such an intimate position, and he can’t help but feel a tiny bit jealous for the lucky fucker who gets to run their hands all over it whilst he-

“it’s not too… extreme, is it?” you bite your lip nervously. “my friends told me that i should do something out of my comfort zone, so…”

he tears his eyes away from the sheet of paper to look up at you kindly. “it’s beautiful. come this way, we’ll get started now.”

“since it’s your first time, i’ll try to take things slow.” you’re lying flat on your front on the table, skirt pulled down an inch and shirt riding up your stomach. geto stands beside you, rolling up his sleeves and donning his latex gloves before prepping the stencil. 

you have such pretty skin, he notes. beautiful and untouched, with such a pretty arch in your spine. he would’ve loved to imagine you positioned like this in different circumstances, but for now, he’s your tattoo artist and you’re his client, so his job is to make you feel as comfortable as possible. 

so, to soothe your nerves, he runs his latex-clad fingers along the arch in your spine, splaying his hands across your lower back and smiling when he feels you shiver as a disinfectant wipe comes into contact with your skin. 

“i’m just prepping the skin, and then i’ll transfer the stencil. it’ll feel a little cold at first, but hopefully it’ll help calm all those pesky nerves. does that sound alright?” you nod. “good girl.”

shit. it just slipped out, the praise, but then he notices that your muscles start to relax. you like praise. good to know, for next time. 

time seems to pass slowly as geto works his magic, plastering the stencil onto your lower back. it’s affecting him, your reactions, and when he finally reveals the potential placement of your totally out-of-character tramp stamp, he has to physically restrain himself from groaning out loud. 

the placement — it’s fucking dirty. 

geto decides to check up with you before finally starting to prep his equipment. “are you sure about this? it’s your first time, so it might hurt.” he chuckles lightly. “scrap that. it will hurt, but i’ll try to make it quick so that you feel the least amount of pain as possible.”

“i…” your voice dies in your throat when you feel his fingers trace the outline of your preeminent tattoo. “ ‘m a bit nervous. never done this before.”

“mm, i know, angel. you have such a beautiful body… i’d be honoured to mark it up some more next time.”

oh. you know (read: think) there’s no underlying intent to his words, but the way his honeyed voice purrs behind you has a stream of wetness start to build inside of you, and you try to discreetly clench your thighs to quell the dull ache in between your legs, praying that geto doesn’t notice. 

he does. if he wasn’t mistaken, this might just be your kink: being left merciless whilst someone toys with your body. he doesn’t overstep though, just teases, running his hands along your bare legs. “how about here next time? i could ink a pretty little flower on your ankle, or maybe some initials… yours, of course.”

geto rathers he mark his initials on your ankle, but again, boundaries. to stop himself from saying anything that’ll have you bolting out of the studio in a millisecond, he finally sits in his chair, picking up the needle and scooting towards you. “are you ready, sweetheart? this is going to hurt, so tell me if you want me to let up at any time.”

you won’t. he knows you won’t, because the feeling of his fingers on your skin is intoxicating for you given the way your toes begin to curl in your flats as he steadies his hands on your lower back. “relax, love. it’ll hurt less.”

the needle pierces your skin, ink blooming as geto begins his work. the feeling… it’s strange, given the fact that it’s quite literally repeated pinpricks on your back. but it feels strangely good paired with geto’s hands on your back, and his smooth voice praising you all the way through. 

“oh, you’re doing such a good job for your first time, love. i’ve never seen anyone react so well.”

“does it feel alright? wouldn’t want to cause any harm to this precious body of yours.”

“i’m almost finished. you’ve been such a good client, i wouldn’t mind inking you again.”

all of it goes straight to your head, and the pain of the needle is replaced with instant euphoria as your mind fills with lewd images of geto fucking you in this exact position, hands on your lower back in the same way as he eases inside of you. and his voice, good lord, his voice… he would totally talk you through it, his rich grumble echoing in your ear as he guides you to orgasm. 

“you’re taking it so well, aren’t you, baby? that’s my good girl.”

“fuck yes, angel, just like that… oh, you’re so damn perfect.”

“you’re close? cum for me, baby. need to feel you, atta girl…”

before you know it, a moan slips from your lips, and you immediately dread geto’s reaction. 

“did you just…?”

your cheeks are on fire. “n-no! sorry, it hurt a little bit there. i should be fine though, you can keep going.” 

he quirks an eyebrow. “well then, the fault is mine entirely. allow me to make it up to you? i’d feel horrible for hurting you, after all.”

your slight nod is all he needs and suddenly he’s finishing up and wrapping your tramp stamp before prying your thighs apart and slipping his latex-clad fingers into your dripping panties. 

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© choslut 2024 — do not copy, repost or translate my works without permission. chain divider by @/cafekitsune.

[tgsclassics]

When actress Barbara Hale enrolled in college, she had every intention of joining the ranks of the best commercial artists. Instead, she posed for them. Hale appeared in several magazine advertisements, and was one of the original Dr. Pepper girls.

[quarterlifekitty]

The screech I scrumpt at tramp!soap oh my god I’m unwellllll I love them I adore them they’re everything to me and I greatly appreciate you sharing your thoughts thank you :)

Can I ask and pls ignore me if you want about tramp!soap getting territorial? He’s perfectly happy to let other dogs from the neighborhood come around, even tries his luck at friendliness with price and nik once or twice, but when another stray starts sniffing around sweet innocent lady’s house? Practically glued himself to her side and sleeps in front of the doggy door. Maybe even sneaks along on a walk to the park with lady’s owners, jumping in right on time to keep her (and her owners by extension) safe? Sweet innocent little lady has never heard a growl like that but she’s not sure she disliked it and really how could her owners not start leaving out food and water for the stray who saved them

Keep scrumpting baby!!!

I’m gonna do a bit of twisting on this one, hope that’s ok!

I imagine your owners are a little protective over you, of course. You’re just a sensitive little girl to them, they got you when you were just a puppy! And your breed makes you smaller than street mutts like Soap. So when they notice him hanging around, they do try to chase him off, worried he’ll hurt you. They even think about calling the dog catcher, but ultimately decide against it.

Soap isn’t even a little discouraged. He’ll dig his way under any fence he has to if it means he gets to see his lady again!! Maybe he even calls you lassie. Because I’m unoriginal!!!

And maybe if you return his affections, you start sneaking out later in the evenings to see him. Your owners have gone to bed, and you go through your doggy door, prancing through the back yard to go to your little meeting place where you kiss, and cuddle, and talk about puppies.

But Soap isn’t there tonight. There’s another stray. One that growls. One that chases and nips at your heels until you’re backed into the corner of the little fenced in yard. By now the barking and yipping has woken up your owners, you see the bedroom light turn on.

It’s then that Soap makes it to you, having sprinted from a few houses down when he heard you so distressed. He growls and bares his teeth as he dives between you and the other stray, arching himself in as fierce a manner as he can manage. They tumble in a mass of fur and fangs and wild eyes, Soap managing to sink his teeth into the neck of the other stray as your owners come out of the back door, robes in hand with a flashlight.

The other stray bolts, looking worse for wear. You start tending to Soap— bitten up and bruised in his own right, his hackles starting to lower. You lick and soothe over the sore marks. It’s clear to your owners that the stray that they’d been trying to keep off of their property protected you. And it’s not like they can pretend it’s not the sweetest thing— seeing you curl up with him, nuzzling noses between your comforting little kisses.

He becomes a much more permanent resident in the back yard since they’ve stopped chasing him away. And he wants to stay closer in case that stray comes back. He stays in your doghouse (you’re too much of a good girl to ever really get sent there anyways) for a few weeks, your owners leaving out food and water for him. And you love being able to run outside and see him almost any time you want!!! Every time you get a treat, like a slice of ham or some jerky, you dash outside to share it with him.

Until one day, you coax him inside. He’s wary, and he’s right to be, because your owners are gonna wash the fuck outta him in the bath when he least expects it. But before that? They present him with a collar. A bit bigger and thicker than yours, a deep teal color dying the leather. A silver tag with the house address on it. A new bed— much too big for just you alone. And you take him to show him the fireplace— your favorite place in the whole world. His tail thumps against the carpet when he finally settles fully, in his first real home.

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 29 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Your hormones are raging to the point of distraction, but Bradley channels that energy toward a purpose: christening the new Bronco. When the two of you attend Mickey's birthday kegger, Bradley realizes everything would be easier if his friends knew you were pregnant. Hopefully the first visit with your new doctor will set your minds at ease instead of making you more anxious.

Warnings: Swearing, smut, pregnancy, angst, fluff

Length: 6000 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

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

You woke up to your alarm for work on Friday morning, groggy and nauseous with a growling stomach. "Roo?" you asked, popping up in bed when you realized he wasn't there. The house was silent. His spot in the bed was cold. You groaned and rolled over to grab your glasses. You needed to eat something immediately or the vomiting was going to start.

Still wearing your underwear and shirt from last night, you shuffled to the kitchen and downed a full glass of water and the plate of peanut butter crackers Bradley left out for you. "Roo?" you asked between bites. You opened the sliding glass door, but he wasn't in the backyard. When you turned toward the front door to see if the Bronco was here, something caught your eye through the front window. "What the hell?"

You grabbed the throw blanket from the couch and wrapped it around yourself as you shoved the last cracker into your mouth. When you opened the front door, you saw your husband and your dog in the driveway. Bradley had moved the Bronco to the street, and he was wearing gym clothes and hosing down the cement slab. 

"What is going on?" you called out, squinting against the early morning sunlight as he waved to you. "What are you doing?"

Bradley was smiling brightly as he dropped the hose next to the industrial sized broom and started running toward you. "You have to hear it, Sweetheart." He was fumbling with his phone. "The most beautiful words." He thrust the phone in front of you as a voicemail message started to play.

"Hi, Bradley, this is Terry from the Ford dealership. I'm just calling to let you know your new Bronco is here."

You groaned as he bounced on the balls of his feet, and Tramp wandered past your legs and back inside. "I still don't understand why you have the hose and broom out...? Are you cleaning the driveway? For the new Bronco?"

"Yes," he replied as if he was talking to a very small child. "I wouldn't want to bring it home to a mess. I want it to feel welcome."

You closed your eyes as he put his phone away and let his palm come to rest against your belly. "It's barely even light out, and you're cleaning the driveway for our new car to feel welcome."

"It's not just a car, Baby Girl. It's a Bronco. And I was too excited to sleep."

You opened your eyes and kissed him before you shook your head. "I can't imagine how you'll be when we start shopping for baby stuff."

His brown eyes lit up as he rubbed your belly. "As soon as you give me the green light, I'm ready to go. I can't wait to decorate the nursery. And I really think we should talk about getting a contractor to work on the attic."

You held up one of your hands, trying to keep the blanket wrapped around you. "Can we just do one thing at a time, Roo? When are we picking up the Bronco?"

He kissed your cheek and moaned. "I knew you were as excited as I am. We can go right from work later today."

"Okay," you agreed with a shrug before shuffling back inside and leaving him to finish cleaning the driveway.

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

It was Friday, Bradley's wife was pregnant, he was about to pick up his new Bronco, and everything was perfect. A little too perfect. He tapped on your office door as soon as he got out of his afternoon lecture, and when you opened it, you looked upset.

"What's wrong?" he asked, ducking inisde with you and closing the door. He cupped your face in his hands and stroked your cheek. "What is it, Sweetheart?"

You let out a needy moan and then licked your lips. "I am so fucking horny."

Well. At least that was better than there being something wrong that he couldn't take care of. You turned your head slightly and took his thumb between your lips, and Bradley grunted. "Holy shit. You're not kidding." He was met with another soft moan and your fingers on the fly of his khakis while you sucked. He had to grab you to make you stop before you had your hand down his pants. "Okay," he whispered. "Here's what we're about to do, alright?"

You nodded, looking up at him like you trusted him completely as he removed his thumb. "Tell me."

"If you're ready to leave, we'll stop and pick up Bronco number two and drive them both home, and then I'll do whatever you need, okay?"

You sucked in a deep breath, and your voice shook. "Okay."

Bradley carried your work bag for you, and when it was just the two of you in the elevator, he wasn't sure how you managed to make it through the day. You were a mess. You had him pinned to the wall, one hand at the back of his neck, the other resting on his abs, and you were kissing him like you would at home in bed. 

He wanted this. Badly. Your tongue stroked against his as you traced his scars with your fingertips. Every little gasp and sound you made went right for his cock. "I need it so bad," you whispered, pressing your lips to his mustache. "God, Roo."

"Fuck," he groaned as the elevator started to slow. "I'd take you right here if I could."

You were whimpering as the doors slid open revealing Maverick. Bradley desperately tried to move your hands to more suitable places on his body, but you just pressed your cheek to his chest and smiled as you said, "Hey, Captain Mitchell."

He smirked and replied, "Lieutenant Commanders."

"Sir?" Bradley croaked, taking both of your hands in his and pulling you out of the elevator. 

Maverick shook his head, and Bradley expected that he would get a text this weekend, but he'd deal with that later. Hand in hand, you and he ran toward the Bronco, and he quickly got you inside and buckled your seatbelt. But you lured him in for more kisses with your fingers in his hair. 

"You taste so good," you whined, licking his lips and tongue. 

"Shit." He was hard now, and he was going to have to try to get you to behave on the short drive to the dealership. Bradley wrenched himself away from you and tucked your hands to your sides. "I love this, I really do, but you need to try to behave for like thirty more minutes."

He ran around to his door, wrenched it open, and soon he was pulling out of the parking garage. You had your head tipped back and your eyes closed as you whispered, "I can't explain it, Bradley, but all I can think about right now is your cock. Just huge and delicious. Fucking me and making me scream."

"Jesus, Baby Girl," he gasped, nearly driving off the road. 

You turned toward him, eyes wide now. "And I swear to god, you have never looked hotter than you do right now. I want to put my mouth on you."

This was doing nothing for his raging erection as he adjusted himself at a red light. When he saw your hands coming his way, he grabbed them and said, "Absolutely not. Sit on them." You whimpered, but you did as you were told and tucked your hands beneath your thighs. "Now listen closely, Sweetheart." The light turned green and he gunned the accelerator. "I love this enthusiasm. So I'll tell you what we're gonna do. When we get home, we're breaking in the new Bronco."

"Yes," you gasped, biting your lip and nodding. "Fuck me in it."

"I sure will," he rasped, unsure how he was going to manage your hormones for the next eight months. He really hoped this elevated sex drive meant everything was healthy for you and the baby. 

As he pulled into the Ford dealership, the bright cherry red Bronco was parked at the front of the building, and he sighed when he saw it. "There she is. Isn't she gorgeous?"

You unbuckled as soon as he parked. "It'll look even better when I've got my pants pulled down inside of it."

"Damn straight," he growled, climbing out his door and adjusting his pants the best he could. You came running to his side, and the two of you walked into the building, trying your very best to act normal. Bradley wrapped his arm around your shoulders and kissed your temple as you took some deep breaths. "You're doing great, Sweetheart," he muttered as he flagged down Terry who left him the voicemail message.

"You're back for the red Bronco!" he said as he headed over. "Why don't you step into my office so we can sign the final paperwork and get the keys."

Bradley felt you link your fingers with his, and the two of you sat side by side while Terry printed out some pages and rambled on about the extended warranty. You kept glancing at Bradley out of the corner of your eye and squirming in your seat. And if you thought he looked hotter now than he ever had before, then the feeling was completely mutual. You looked so damn good, even struggling through your morning sickness, that he wanted to get his hands all over your body. 

When your teeth sank down into your lip as you looked at him, he thought about sweeping everything off Terry's desk, telling him to get the fuck out of his own office, and nailing you right here. God, you'd make the prettiest sounds, too.

"How does that sound?" Terry asked, looking from you and then back to Bradley.

"I'm sorry, what?" Bradley replied, trying his best to get his libido under control. "I missed what you said."

Terry smiled serenely like he didn't know he was practically in the middle of a porno right now. "Would you like me to show you all the controls and interior features? Go over how everything works before you drive off with it?"

"Nope. I think we'll be fine figuring it out on our own," he replied immediately as he grabbed the proffered pen from the other man. He scribbled his signature on the bottom of the paperwork and then passed it to you to do the same. "You ready to get busy, Baby Girl?" he asked as he stood. 

"God yes," you moaned as he took the two sets of keys from a rather stunned looking Terry. "Let's go."

The two of you ran back out to the Broncos, and Bradley groaned. "Oh, hell yes. A hot wife, a baby and two Broncos. Someone pinch me."

"Just get in," you commanded, shoving him toward the red one. "You can deal with not knowing the controls, and I'll meet you at home." 

Bradley let you take the keys out of his pocket before he climbed inside the new one. He took a second to inhale that fresh, new car scent. He ran his fingers over the leather steering wheel. Then he kissed the keys and cranked the engine, barely taking the time to adjust the mirrors before pulling out onto the main road behind you. 

It took eight and a half minutes to get home, and the sun was dipping lower in the sky, but it was by no means dark outside when Bradley pulled in the driveway next to you. Your movements were sure and intentional as you unbuckled your khaki belt while you walked around the blue Bronco and went straight for the back door of the red one. 

"Are you coming?" you asked with desperation as you climbed in the back and looked at him still sitting in the driver's seat. You were on your knees on the seat, pulling your uniform pants and cute underwear down your thighs. "Please?"

"Holy fucking shit." On all fours. On the backseat. Back door open. You were just asking for the fuck of a lifetime, and he was going to give it to you.

"Bradley?"

He killed the engine and left the keys on the dash as he climbed into the backseat behind you. It was roomier than your shitty Honda, but he still had to work with what he had. "I got you, Sweetheart," he promised as you folded your arms and let your head rest on the seat with your gorgeous ass up in the air. He tasted you there, running his lips and mustache down through your soaking wet pussy while he undid his own belt.

You sighed in relief as you pressed slowly back for more pressure, and as soon as he had his hard cock hanging out the front of his pants, Bradley took your hips in his hands. You tasted and smelled delicious and familiar as he licked and kissed you everywhere as his hands slowly crept around to your belly. His fingers stroked you softly where he knew your tattoo was, and he licked you from hole to hole. 

"You're really worked up," he murmured as he kissed along your ass cheek and swiped his fingers through your pussy.

"I told you, Daddy!" you moaned, and he coated his cock up with your wetness and his precum. Then he got himself in position behind you, glancing around to see if any of the neighbors were out and about. But it didn't matter. You were already too far gone. He reached behind himself and closed the door a few more inches before it hit his boot, and then he covered your body with his own.

As he slid his cock slowly inside your pussy, he could already feel you clenching around him. When he bottomed out, you were whimpering pathetically. "Roo."

"Shh. I know, Baby Girl. I'll take care of it."

You nodded beneath him, glancing back as he kissed your perfect cheek. "I love you."

Bradley's heart melted even as he started to slowly thrust. He kissed your shoulder through your uniform shirt and wrapped one big hand around your belly. "I love both of you," he promised. Then he patted the seat right next to your folded arms. "In a few more months, there's gonna be a car seat right here. And I can't fucking wait. I can't wait to meet our baby."

"Daddy," you whined, and he planted his palm on the upholstery and held your body as he started to fuck you harder. He knew you wouldn't feel better until you could barely walk, and right now that's what he wanted, too. He thrusted harder as the sounds got more obscene, knowing anyone could see what was happening right now if they looked this way. You turned back with an absolutely delighted expression on your face and whispered, "Watch where you're bracing your foot."

Then he really let you have it, spanking your pussy lightly with his damp fingers and making you squeal while you clenched around him. He turned your head with his other hand so that your mouth was pressed to your forearm, hoping to muffle some of the noise before returning his palm to the upholstery. Oh, you were close now, and so was he, but he'd spend all night out here fucking you with this steady rhythm until you got what you needed from him. Because you always gave him everything.

As he stroked your clit with his middle finger, you whined his name, and your legs started to shake. "Come on, Baby Girl. Come on," he coaxed, pushing himself deep and staying still while you squeezed his length and shook beneath him.

A pitiful cry of Daddy was all he heard as you started milking him for everything he was worth. He rolled his hips until he was done, and then he gently wrapped his hand around your neck and guided you so your back was against his chest. He kissed your ear, letting you hear how he was panting to catch his breath while he said, "Baby number two gets made in a Bronco."

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

Well. The red Bronco now smelled like new car and filthy sex at the same time. And you had Bradley's cum all over your uniform pants. And your nipples hurt from rubbing against the backseat. But you felt incredible as Bradley closed up the doors, locked it and patted the hood before leading you to the house with his arm around your waist.

"All better?" he asked, slipping the key into the lock as you rubbed your face against his bicep. 

"So much better," you replied as Tramp greeted both of you. "In fact, I think I'm going to go relax in the bathtub."

When you tried to walk away from him, Bradley grabbed your hand. "Whoa. Not so fast." He yanked you gently back into his arms. "First of all, now that the new Bronco has been appropriately christened, you get to take a set of the keys." He dropped them into your hand as he kissed your forehead. "And second, I read about taking baths during pregnancy, and you can't have the water as hot as you're used to."

You gaped up at him. "You read about it?"

He nodded as his cheeks started to turn pink. "Yeah. Just online. You know, just because you like taking baths. And sometimes we take them together.  And I know I told you I wasn't going to start shopping too much yet, but I did order a tub thermometer on Monday. And it arrived yesterday. And I hope you don't think I'm crazy right now."

You squeezed him tighter as you whispered, "I don't think you're crazy. I think you're sweet and smart. You always seem to think of things that I don't. And on that note, would you like to get the thermometer and meet me in the bathroom? Naked?"

He patted you on the butt and whispered, "I'll feed Tramp and meet you in there."

You stripped out of your uniform and turned on the water, but you didn't crank it as hot as you normally would. You dipped your toes in and swirled them around as you thought back to last weekend when you sat in the empty tub and counted for three minutes until your pregnancy test was ready. It was fascinating to you, growing something inside you that made you so reactive to everything. Every time you thought about your upcoming appointment, you got antsy, hoping they would tell you everything looked as it should. 

Bradley kissed your shoulder as his body met yours. "I brought the goods," he whispered as he dropped the floating thermometer into the tub and held up a sleeve of crackers and a bottle of cold water.

You moaned and reached for the food, knowing you should eat something now while you still felt okay. "You're the best husband in the world."

As you shoved some crackers into your mouth, Bradley knelt and kissed your belly. "Hi," he whispered, making a huge smile break out on your face. "It's me again. Just checking in." He kissed your belly button and looked up at you as he said, "Mommy and I are hoping to see you next week with an ultrasound." He paused and pressed one more lazy kiss a little closer to your tattoo as he stared. "Your tits look fucking incredible, Sweetheart."

"Do they?" you asked, looking down at yourself. "They're so sore." 

Bradley grunted and shut off the water after he checked the thermometer. "So what you're saying is I can look, but I can't touch? Because that's just mean." He climbed into the tub and helped you in while you laughed. 

"It didn't hurt too much the other day when you were very, very gentle," you whispered as you straddled his lap facing him. These slightly cooler baths would take some getting used to, but it wasn't too terrible. 

"Got it." You ate a few more crackers as he intently focused on your half submerged breasts like they were about to cure cancer. His thumbs were soft and when his lips met your nipples, you arched your back until you were getting just the perfect amount of pressure. 

You let him kiss and nuzzle around for a few minutes while you played with his hair. When his mustache started to feel a little too rough, you yanked him back, and he stopped. "You're bristly."

He raised one eyebrow. "Do you want me to shave?"

"No!" you gasped running your fingers down his cheek to stroke his facial hair.

"I will if you want me to," he whispered, kissing your palm and pulling you a little closer. You curled up against his chest and hugged him.

"I don't want you to shave, Roo. You're so handsome this way." You kissed his sparse chest hair. "Thanks for getting the bath thermometer and making sure I got a new car. And thanks for fucking me all the time and taking care of everything."

He chuckled. "How can you go from feral and horny to sweet and snuggly so quickly?"

"It's the hormones," you replied with a yawn. "And as soon as I get out of the tub, I'm probably going to fall asleep. So if there's anything else we need to talk about, we have to do it now."

"Just Mickey's birthday party tomorrow," Bradley reminded you, and you groaned. 

"I forgot all about that. I'll have to bring crackers and hope I don't hurl everywhere. And how the hell am I supposed to avoid drinking at a kegger?"

"I have a few ideas."

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

Bradley's ideas were decidedly not the best, but you didn't come up with anything better, so you just went along with him. It was blazing hot out the following afternoon at the beach, and you felt a little bloated in your bathing suit, but your husband literally couldn't keep his hands off you.

"Roo!" you scolded when he came running over to you mid football game while you lounged on your back on a towel next to Phoenix. He dripped water all over your legs before dropping into a pushup position above you and kissing your lips until you giggled. 

"I can't help it," he panted. "I'm obsessed with this bathing suit. You wore it to the cliffs beach the first time you kissed me."

"Gross," Phoenix moaned as Bradley dipped his tongue into your mouth before standing again. 

Then he flopped down on her towel and kissed her cheek as he said, "All thanks to my very best friend."

"Go away!" she screeched, pushing on him until he got up and ran back to the rest of the guys who were all tipsy and trying to tackle Mickey. "He's horrible. I can't believe you married him," she said as she rolled onto her stomach. You wanted to be able to do that, but you were feeling pretty nauseous.  

"We all make mistakes," you replied, trying to discreetly eat another cracker. "Bradley's is the fact that he didn't reapply sunblock yet. I should probably call him back over."

"Please don't," Phoenix moaned. You sat up on your towel and tried to stretch, and then you saw Bob making his way down the beach. But he wasn't alone. 

"Maria!" you called out, waving your friend and Bob's new roommate your way.

Phoenix raised her arm in greeting, and you didn't miss the way Bob smiled down at Maria as she turned toward the towels as Bob headed for the water, catching a pass from Javy on his way.

"Hey," Maria greeted, dropping her bag down next to yours.

"Why didn't you tell me you were coming?" you asked, patting your towel next to you.

She dropped down as she said, "I didn't really know I was. I got home from taekwondo right when Bob was getting ready to come here, and he invited me. Then he waited while I got changed."

You could tell she was looking at him through her dark sunglasses. Interesting. 

"Is he driving you crazy with his dice collection yet?" Phoenix asked her, and Maria started laughing.

"No, but it was so cute when he unpacked them. He has them all sorted by color, and he told me about his Dungeons & Dragons character while we drank a bottle of wine." Suddenly she stopped talking and cleared her throat. "So, how are you two?"

You gave her side eye as your stomach started to gurgle. You were really afraid you weren't going to make it through the day without being sick. You watched Jake pumping the keg of beer and squirting it directly from the nozzle into his mouth, and you prayed they finished the whole thing before anyone tried to offer you another cup. "I'm fine," you said absently. "I'll be back. Let me make sure Bradley puts on more sunblock."

You grabbed the tube from your bag and headed toward the water as Maria and Nat started to discuss workplace politics. "Bradley!" you called when you got a little closer, but he couldn't hear you over the sound of the waves and the guys all yelling. "Roo!" You waved your hand in the air, and Reuben turned toward you right as he was looking for a receiver to catch his throw. The football spun in slow motion, powerfully thrown, and you gasped as it was headed right for you. It was going to hit you in the stomach.

At the last second, you dropped the sunblock and turned, squeezing your eyes closed and holding out your hand. The ball hit you hard in the hip, and you gasped in pain.

"What the fuck, Payback!" Bradley thundered as he ran toward you, kicking up wet sand as your eyes welled up with tears behind your sunglasses. "Sweetheart! Are you okay?" His big hands were all over you, as you tried to nod. When his fingers grazed your belly, he pulled you close. "Where did you get hit?" he asked, wrapping his other arm around you. 

"My hip," you managed, and his hand dropped lower as he pulled you to his chest. "I'm okay. I just wanted you to put more sunblock on."

Now Reuben came rushing over. "I'm so sorry!" he said, reaching out a hand and placing it on your shoulder. 

You could feel Bradley tense up, and you had to whisper, "I'm okay. It didn't hit my belly. I swear, Roo."

Then he snapped at his friend. "Can you fucking pay attention next time?" 

"I'm sorry," Reuben repeated, and you left Bradley's arms to give him a squeeze instead. 

"I'm fine," you promised him. "Bradley's just protective, and it did hurt a bit."

"I will be extra careful," he promised.

"And I won't wander into the game unless I'm completely ready to play."

"It wasn't your fault," Bradley growled, and now you had to put your hands on his arms. 

"I'm fine," you reiterated. "Just put on more sunblock, okay? I don't want you to be in pain and bright red tonight when I will probably need you for special activities."

That got him to quirk one eyebrow up as you kissed him. "Okay." He bent and picked up the tube and tucked it into the pocket of his cutoffs, and as soon as you wandered away, the football game picked up again.

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

By the time Javy and Jake started the bonfire, Bradley was feeling pretty drunk. Reuben was still keeping a safe distance from him, which was making Bradley feel a little bit bad. It wasn't like he hit you on purpose, but the idea of the football hitting you that hard even close to your belly scared him. A lot. But you were claiming you were just fine, and he believed what you said. You even showed him the exact spot where you said you would be sore and bruised by tomorrow, and it seemed like it was a little closer to your butt than anywhere else. 

Right now, you were laughing with Nat and Maria, and you had a red solo cup of beer on your hand that you weren't drinking. Every time you looked at him a certain way, he pretended to fill his cup all the way and switched with you. It was working out well enough, except that he was getting drunk twice as fast this way.

"Come on," Nat was saying as she pulled on your arm. "Do a keg stand! I'll do one if you do one!"

You gave him the look and he sighed. He hadn't done a fucking keg stand since he was at UVA, and frankly he was too old for this shit, but he knew what he needed to do. "Nat, I can drink you under the fucking table any day of the week."

She turned to him, eyes flashing. "Prove it."

Next thing he knew, he was doing a handstand on top of the keg, one leg held up by Bob and the other by Javy, and Jake was squirting a steady stream of whatever shitty beer this was into his mouth while he tried to swallow it before it dripped down to his nose. Everyone started counting, and he made it thirty seconds before he started shaking his head. Once his feet were back on the sand, he realized his vision was a little blurry. 

When you wrapped your arms around his waist, he hissed. Shit. He never did reapply the sunblock like you told him to. Oh no. Now Mickey wanted him to do another keg stand. 

"Okay, birthday boy," Bradley replied, and you released him so he could have another go. This time, he couldn't remember how long he lasted, but everyone was slapping his sunburned back and jostling him around a lot. And he was drunk. Like really fucking drunk.

"How did he get like this, Angel?" Jake asked as he slung his arm around you. 

Bradley scoffed. "Hey, that's my wife," he slurred as he reached for your hand.

"Yeah, I'm well aware," Jake replied, and then Bradley started laughing when he remembered that you and Jake were friends, and he decided to lay down on your beach towel for a little bit. 

He couldn't be sure how long he was there, but the air was cooling down as the night wore on, and he felt kisses on his forehead. "Baby Girl."

"Yeah, I'm right here, Daddy," you whispered, taking his hands in yours. "Thanks for drinking enough to kill a horse."

He started laughing hysterically as he got to his feet. "You're fucking funny."

"I know, Roo," you said as you tugged him along the beach. "That's why you married me."

"No, it's not," he swore. "No. No. Not just that. I married you, because I had to."

You laughed as the new Bronco came into view, and Bradley wondered where everyone else was. "You had to marry me?"

"Oh yeah," he replied. "I knew it right away. Couldn't live without you. You're too sweet. And your ass is too fucking fine."

He let you push him into the passenger side door, and he kissed your forehead as you buckled him in. "Oh, Bradley," you giggled. "You're a mess." You were cupping his face gently, and you were going in and out of focus a bit, but he knew he didn't have to worry too much about anything while you were here.

"I love you," he whispered, and you pressed the softest kiss to his lips. "I love you and the baby."

As you brushed your fingers back through his hair, you told him, "Please don't barf in my Bronco, Sweetheart."

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

Bradley couldn't even move until Sunday afternoon. You tried your best not to laugh too much, but the combination of his hangover and the sunburn were perhaps the funniest thing you'd ever seen. He was walking around the house completely naked and holding his head. When you tried to facetime your parents, you had to send him back to the bedroom, and you could hear him moaning the whole time. 

"Do you want more aloe?" you asked him as you munched on a peanut butter cracker. "Or something to eat."

"Stop talking about food," he begged from his spot on his stomach on the bathroom floor. "And if you put more aloe on my back, I need you to do it very softly. Like how gentle I was with your tits, okay?" Then he groaned and lifted his head up from the bath mat. "God, I can't even fuck you properly right now."

You squeezed aloe onto your hands and carefully massaged it into his skin. "That's okay. Maybe you can watch me masturbate later?"

"Fuck! That's like a punishment! My hands are fine. I'll finger you. It'll be great." He winced as you rubbed him a little too hard by accident, so you kissed his pink cheek. 

"Just rest up, Daddy. We have a big week. I need to finish my portion of the presentation for Annapolis."

"I can help you practice it," he promised, petting Tramp when he wandered in to get an update on things. "And don't forget about 4:30 on Wednesday afternoon. That's the most important part of the week."

You combed your fingers through his hair, and his eyes closed as your tummy swooped. "First appointment with the obstetrician," you whispered. Excitement filled you up every time you thought about it, but so did a bit of anxiety. You'd been waiting seemingly forever to get to this point, and as you rubbed your sore hip, your mind filled with negative thoughts. What if they couldn't do an ultrasound? What if you didn't get to see the baby? What if there was something wrong?

"Hey." Bradley was sitting up, and his arms were open for you even though he looked a bit like a lobster. You crawled willingly into his overheated embrace, and if you were hurting him, he didn't say a word about it. "Wednesday, Baby Girl. I couldn't be more excited. Just wait, everything will be perfect."

You were surprised to find that the week didn't drag too much. Work was busy, and Bradley's sunburn was starting to peel. When you were on the verge of tears on Tuesday night because your libido was so insane right now, he fucked you hard in the kitchen while he said, "Next time, please force me to reapply the sunblock!"

"I will," you moaned as you came, delighting in the feeling of perfect release. 

And next thing you knew, it was Wednesday, and you were about to meet your new doctor for the first time. And hopefully you were going to see your baby for the first time.

"Are you nervous?" you asked Bradley as he laced his fingers with yours as you sat in the quiet waiting room together. There were expectant mothers at varying stages of pregnancy sitting around you, and you tried to imagine how big you'd be in a few more months. 

"Excited," he replied, kissing your cheek and ear. "Just really fucking excited. I've been thinking... about starting a notebook. Kind of for the baby? Like how sometimes I like to write down what I'm thinking and feeling for myself."

You nodded. "I love your deployment notebooks. I love what you wrote about me."

He kissed you hard on the lips. "I think I want the baby to be able to read about how much I was looking forward to meeting them. When they're older, I mean. They can read about how I feel like my heart is going to pound out of my chest right now," he said with a laugh. "And how I can't wait to hold them and give them a name. All about how much I love their mom."

Tears filled your eyes as you turned to tuck your face against his neck. "I like that idea." You kissed the side of his neck and told him how much you loved him back, and then you jolted in your seat as a friendly looking nurse called your name. 

"Come on back, you two," she said with a smile. "Hopefully mom and dad can leave with some new family photos."

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

I'm hoping for a family photo in the next part! I also don't know how she's going to survive Annapolis right now. I also can't believe Maria and Bob aren't about to fuck nasty. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 30

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[randommmthoughts]

The way Antinous choose to say 'When is your tramp of a mother gonna choose a new husband'

Not slut - a woman who has many sexual partners - a woman who is very messy or lazy

Or bitch - a female dog - an offensive way of referring to a woman who you think is unpleasant

But tramp - a person with no home or job who travels from place to place, usually asking people in the street for food or money - an offensive word for somebody, usually a woman, who is thought to have many sexual partners

Is so crazy to me. Like, this woman refuses to marry anyone because she's waiting for her husband -with that not being a slut nor the second meaning of tramp- but also provides food and shelter for her people in her palace. For the suitors. The suitors live in her palace. If anyone here is a tramp it's you Antinous.