#fonts drive me insane

[fluxydrawings]

sure ill post this. i spent too much time on this

[thegreatestheaver]

traveling and also having ocd is not a good combo 0/10 I don’t recommend

[hua-fei-hua]

once more reading a big fat typography book in the school library instead of studying and every so often it strikes me how similar the genshin font is to garamond in places. maybe this is a "guy who's only really stared at serif fonts for the last three months" kind of situation tho

[chryzure-archive]

notebook, pen, genre, tw and coffee owo??

notebook ; how many notebooks do you have? do you write in them?

i have… so so many… after counting, i have 21 notebooks!! and yes, i do write in them! it’s good to get my brain unstuck + i’ll paste little doodles i’ve made into the notebooks as a way to motivate myself ^^

pen ; what's your favorite font to write in?

currently, it’s either eb garamond, caudex, or times new roman (i know, i know <//3)—BUT, literally just this morning, i was thinking i’d go trawling through some of the downloadable fonts and see which i prefer—bc i find that when i switch up the font / the page color, i’m able to write better!

genre ; what's your favorite genre to write? is it the same your favorite genre to read?

hmm, i think i’d say magic realism set in a relatively modern time (late 1800s to present) is my favorite genre to write—definitely with elements of horror and fantastical tragedy! and as for if it’s my fav genre to read, i’d say it’s definitely one of my fav genres to read! i also like a nice, pure horror novel (gothic or supernatural). i currently haven’t really been feeling fantasy though—magic realism feels much more grounded and satisfying for me!

tw ; what's the darkest theme covered in one of your wips?

that’s a difficult question… i think tackling the different way people experience grief + how some will go down a self-destructive path might be the darkest theme, since it ties into the way people will use anger as a crutch until it warps them as a person.

coffee ; what's your favorite beverage to drink while writing?

taking this screenshot directly frm the app bc.. i have issues, BUT THIS ONE:

[brainrotcharacters]

Me frankly I'd go insane tryna write this. The others can take this one

Logan and Wade's relationship post movie is slow burn in the most infuriating way cause they have so many hang ups about the relationship

On Logan's side: He fell in love with Wade first. Which mortifies him cause 1) Wade is still in love with Vanessa 2) they're roommates in a one bedroom apartment with Blind Al until he gets his life together in a parallel world where he's technically dead and his SSN is donezo 3) Wade Winston Wilson is probably the most embarrassing person to have a crush on, let alone be in love with. Logan will defend him to heaven and hell and back, but even he knows it's crazy to fall for the Blowjob Queen of Sasqatoon.

He's fully aware of his feelings but tries to squash it down, acts like he hates Wade's guts. Even though every morning he wakes up early to make coffee for the both of them before Wade wakes up. Even though he's memorized what's his favorite gun cleaner and oil are, then stocks them up before Wade even notices his supply is running low. Even though he's the most at peace when Wade and Laura are having Girls' Night in the living room, wearing face masks and watching A24 horror films, while he's kicking back with Blind Al in the kitchen, sipping shitty beer.

On Wade's side: He has no idea Logan likes him. Or, better to say, he has no idea WHY Logan would like him. He might be gods perfect idiot, but if 2+2 = 22, then if someone tells you to shut up and stabs you in every argument to be had, they can't possibly LIKE like you. So even when the initial hostility of being new roommates dies down, he takes the domesticity they find together a side effect of being a Wolverine over the age of 40 with a teenage daughter and no active income in sight. "Beggars can't be ungrateful bastards who couch surf for free" and all that jazz.

Wade is also still hooked up on Vanessa. She'll always be his soul mate, and that will never change. So they try to talk it out. They go on a couple dates. They try to work something, anything out, but in the end they both agree it just isn't right anymore. They still love each other, but that doesn't mean they should be in a relationship. They both deserve better than to be stuck in the past.

So by the time Wade is single for real, Logan is already set on them not getting together. Previous points aside, he's no rebound chick. He just got promoted from Worst Wolverine to Okay-est Wolverine (via the coffee mug Laura got him from etsy) -- so he's absolutely NOT fucking gonna be a sloppy bitch and make a move on his roommate after he got out of a whatever the fuck situationship with his ex-dead, ex-fiance.

When they finally get together, it's so far down the line and so slow-burn, that they genuinely don't know how they got there. All they know is that they share a new one bedroom apartment together, alone (but Blind Al lives on the same floor of the complex) and that they are so far gone in domestic bliss that they're arguing with each other over how to properly assemble a pet condo for Mary Puppins.

[foundationsofd3cay]

i used to think that i would die in my sleep but now i know it will be from CODING MY FUCKING SPACEHEY PROFILE

[thund3rthighs]

Why do certain writers use tiny font? Like I can't fucking read the fine print fic you've written, got me feeling like

[suboficialflores]

My coworker gave me a printout about dyslexia accessible fonts, which is great

But my (very-likely-autistic) ass could only focus on the fucked up kerning

[dangerpronebuddie]

.

[computerpeople]

i love warren so much

[archivedible]

i literally had a dream where i drew renfield and posted it to tumblr even though ive never watched the movie. just bc i keep getting 'liked by archivedible' renfield posts on my dash 😭

don't let your dreams stay dreams anon . . .

its a good film anon ...

draw the fanart anon ....

[mrsimpurity]

CLAWS AND MARKS

pairing: logan howlett x fem!reader

summary: getting logan’s name tattooed on you earns you a very unexpected reaction

wc: 2k

cw: smut (nsfw), oral (fem receiving), p in v, cum play, questionable relationship dynamics, reader has a tattoo, logan’s claws come out

a/n: writing this was… an experience! pls don’t do this i’m pretty sure you’ll get an infection of some kind 

It's quite late. Heading to sleep is the only thing on your mind on this early September night. Your bed is warm, and so is your boyfriend’s embrace, so you rarely sleep in anything else besides your underwear. 

You pull down your flimsy shorts and step out of them in a hurry to get under the warm sheets. You’re left in simple black panties and, well, something else.

“What’s this, kid?” Logan asks, eyebrow raised in question. Shit. You turn your head to see him staring at your ass. You can’t quite decipher the look on his face. Is it anger?

“Oh, just something silly me and the girls did last night.” you snicker, looking back at your own butt. A fresh tattoo, which is still a bit red, takes up a small space on your right asscheek. And it reads “Logan” in a serif font, little twirls decorating the capital letter. You can’t help but feel embarrassed at the aftermath of the two margaritas you had last evening during your weekly girls night. 

Logan approaches you with careful steps, still looking awfully intimidating (in your defense, he pretty much always does). Standing behind you now, he grabs the globes of your ass. You’re facing the wall, cheeks red. You can feel the smirk on his face as he kneads the fat, rubbing a thumb across the ink on your body. 

“You really did that for your old man?” your nerves slowly start dissipating, the tone in Logan's voice developing a sultry note. 

“Mhm.” you answer, still a bit unsure.

“Fuck.” is the only thing you hear being mumbled behind you before Logan picks you up by the hips and throws you on the bed. He’s like an animal, you think to yourself, with the way he grabs your legs and drags you to the edge of the bed while getting on his knees. Your panties are off you in a second, your bare cunt exposed to the chilly air. But the open window isn’t the only thing contributing to your goosebumps - the look in Logan's eyes is not one to be forgotten.

To say you feel like prey in a predator’s claws would be an understatement. The ink on your body ignited something long forgotten in him, something that connects him with his roots, a fucked up need to mark you. 

Logan’s mouth latches on your clit and you’re brought out of your trance as he sucks on the swollen nub. His hold on your thighs is unbelievably strong. He's holding you down as you squirm under him, submitting yourself to the pleasure his mouth brings you. His tongue licks up a long stripe between your glistening folds and sets on your puffy clit again, the kitten licks he places making it impossible to stay still. 

Your moans get louder and louder and your elbows can’t keep you up anymore. You fall back on the bed and close your eyes. The loss of one sense only sharpens the rest, Logan's hot breath on your pussy captivating your mind.

You’re dreaming, you’re sure. The sound of Logan lapping up your juices, tongue entering your hole, is possibly the most erotic thing that’s ever blessed your ears. 

You don’t hold back anymore, you just can’t. You let your whines slip past your lips oh so loudly as Logan's nose pushes up against your clit. He himself is entranced, by your sweet arousal, by the lewd sounds you’re making.

And fuck, does he get painfully hard by listening to you moan and thrash under his hold. Even thinking about the tattoo for a moment drives him insane. He has to have you.

You’re teetering on the edge of your release as Logan licks circles around your clit. Your breath comes out in short pants. You’re under his mercy, begging him with helpless cries to relieve you of this painful teasing.

“Logan, please.” those are your final words before Logan's tongue flattens out against your swollen nub. Your orgasm crashes over you as you cry out his name. But he doesn’t falter. He's licking and kissing, his face and beard covered in your juices. Helping you ride out your orgasm, he places slow pecks on your clit and massages your folds, rubbing them between his fingers.

You’re propped up on your elbows, staring at him like a deer in headlights. He can’t wipe that fucking smirk off his face. You feel scrutinized, like you’re under observation and he’s trying to decide how to further destroy you.

“You scared, doll?” Logan asks.

You gulp and curse yourself for acting like this. You have no idea what’s come over you, or him for that matter, but you just can’t shake off the fear creeping up on you.

“Of course not, Logan.” you whisper. He’s close to you now. Impossibly close. His lips are touching yours, you’re breathing into his mouth.

And then he’s kissing you, like a man gone wild. It feels like a fever dream, the way his thumb caresses your cheek in the most heartwarming way possible, the action in such contrast with the way his tongue enters your mouth, captivating you. He's hungry for you, he can’t get enough. You’re moaning into his mouth now, further egging him on. He grunts, strengthening his hold on your face as his tongue explores your mouth, leaving you breathless.

And before you know it, the familiar sound of metal passes dangerously close to your ears. 

His claws just came out.

In a heartbeat, you’re pushed down on the bed again, Logan's huge frame towering over you. The shadow of his shiny adamantium claws on the ceiling almost urges you to murmur a quick prayer under your breath.

“Lo, what are you going to do to me?” you ask.

You barely squeak it out, looking up at him through your eyelashes, but he almost cums in his pants right then and there.

“Oh, baby. Thought you weren’t scared, hm?” His tone is teasing, almost sarcastic. He's asking you this while slowly dragging the blunt part of his claw down your navel, getting dangerously close to your cunt. It’s like you’re trapped, you can’t move for the life of you unless you want to get hurt. The sense of impending doom creeps up your neck again and you’re truly left at his mercy this time, you think.

So then why are you getting even wetter?

“You’re killing me here, doll. Don’t you want this?” his question is dangerous, if nothing else.

“More than anything.” Your needs betray your mind, what you just said registering a minute later, the all too lustful part of your brain working overtime to please your body. 

Logan retracts his claws and flips you over on your tummy.

“Ass up.” it's a command.

And so you follow his orders, getting on all fours. You feel as if you’re expecting a punishment, but it’s a little more exciting than it should be.

You hear shuffling behind you and soon enough, Logan's briefs are discarded on the floor, his hard cock slapping against his stomach as he frees himself. You gulp again, this time in anticipation rather than fear.

Logan grabs a hold of your hip with one of his hands as he pushes the tip of his cock past your folds. He sinks himself inside your warm and inviting pussy. The chuckle he lets out at how wet you are is loud enough for you to hear and a red tint creeps up your cheeks again.

“You’re always so fucking tight.” Logan mumbles behind you as he begins thrusting inside your cunt. Your walls are squeezing him like a vice and he feels like a virgin that’s about to burst. You’re ravishing, a sight for sore eyes - on all fours for him, ever so obedient, his name imprinted on your skin. Your moans accompany the sound of his balls slapping against your ass as he picks up the pace. It’s like a crude, fucked up harmony that you want to listen to for the rest of your life.

“Harder, please, Logan.” you plead, having absolutely lost your mind. His cock is buried deep inside your cunt and the head of his cock thrusts up against the gummy spot inside you. You can feel him in your tummy. 

His girth twitches inside you at those words and Logan complies, he himself too lost in pleasure to tease, to even speak. He only pulls out completely and slams himself back inside you, too close to his own orgasm. You’re arching your back, fucking yourself on his cock with all the energy you can muster. His hips roll against you with vigor, a visceral need you’ve never felt exude from him before.

His fingers reach down to rub circles on your puffy clit and you whine as the pleasure becomes too much for you.

You clench around his length and he grabs your hips for support, the two of you chasing the unforgiving and much too intimate wave of ecstasy. His thrusts don’t falter, your pussy clenching greedily around him, only making him go faster. 

“You were made for me, baby. This pussy was made for me.” his words absolutely fucking finish you. Your gummy walls clamp down on his cock as you orgasm, feeling him twitch inside you before his release also comes. You moan out Logan's name like a prayer as his thrusts get sloppier. His seed is warm and you feel full. His hands are roaming all over your ass, grabbing the fat and kneading it. His cock twitches inside you again.

Right. The tattoo.

Logan carefully pulls out of you and you whine at the feeling of emptiness as his cum slowly drips out of your pulsating hole and onto the sheets. Too lost in the moment, Logan puts two fingers inside you. Unsuspecting, you moan at his touch, too sensitive.

“Fuck, Lo.” you pant out as you finally realize what’s happening. Logan smears the remnants of his release right on the tattoo of his name. He does so with such loving touches, it’s almost comical. You’re still catching your breath, trying your best to lean into his touch as he runs a thumb over his creation and leans down to press a loud smooch on your ass.

“Pervert.” you giggle behind him.

“But you love it.” he sneers.

Touché.

Drained of all energy, you finally collapse on the bed, facing the ceiling. Logan hovers above you, massaging your limbs attentively. He places a kiss on both of your hands and another trail of kisses from the valley between your breasts down to your navel. Finally, he comes up to face you. You rub your nose against his lovingly and his lips finally encapture yours in a kiss almost too sweet to believe.

“Did I tire you out, baby?” he asks, scared of having hurt you while being too lost in the moment.

“No. You know I trust you.” Logan smiles against your mouth at your words and places a kiss on your nose while grabbing your hand to hold in his.

Logan sneakily lowers himself down your body to face your pussy. He places a small kiss on your cunt, that smirk of his making a dangerous appearance again.

“Then let me taste you again.” Logan says with the same intimidating tone that started all of this, the one that foretells an engulfing, alas frightening, erotic escapade.

And so you let him. By the end of the night, you’re stained of him, every inch of your body belonging to this man, the tattoo no longer feels as significant. 

Because the mark he’s left on you is much more visceral. And no orgasm can compare to the natural feeling of obedience which enthralls you when you lay eyes on him. A feeling perfectly sculpted to match his animalistic urges.

[a-blonded-life]

i just think that everyone should listen to blue rev by alvvays

[biorg]

I hate that Tumblr does this to gifs now..... Be normal and enlarge them to fill the text post like you used to.

[ghostlyfleur]

okay but steve harrington + shy! innocent! crybaby-ish reader where he is like play fighting with her and tickling her to the point where he’s pinned her down and she’s laughing so cute! but secretly, the weight of her boy on top of her and his hands all over her thighs and stomach, is making her rlly rlly wet 🥹

she’s like “steveee stop tickling me!” bc she can’t take it anymore and he does! but he also fully takes his weight off of her which makes her start huffing and whining for him to come back, grabby hands shooting out at him. steve is confused, ofc, like “honey i thought you wanted me to stop?” and she’s so embarrassed covering her face, squeezing her thighs and almost, if not, crying in frustration.

steve pulls her hands off her face to see her eyes, laying back down on her body when her legs spread open again, looking at her to explain further, but all she can do is whine that “it hurts s’bad stevie”.

he’s confused for a moment but then he glances down and her ridden-up oversized t-shirt reveals the wet spot forming on her panties. he presses a big kiss on his angel’s lips before cooing on her mouth, lightly touching her clothed cunt, “aw honey you wanted me to stop bc your lil pussy got all wet f’me, huh? is that what you were trying to say?”

to which she responds something like “wanted y’to stop ticklin’ me, not to stop touching me :,(“! steve finds his lovely girl so adorable, he makes sure to take good care of her afterwards, like always! maybe even mocking her just a bit from getting so turned on from a little tickling 🫠

holy shiiiiit — normal sized font below the cut

this is definitely soft dom!daddy!steve…

like he’s so doting and caring and careful and affectionate, always spoiling and praising his angel, being all playful and funny and silly like he always is— and the two are best friends, don’t get it twisted! they’re dating, but they’re still the best of friends… they banter and play fight and mock each other, share secrets and personal thoughts and feelings and they gossip together, play pranks on each other… all the good best friend things…

so they’re very close. very. loyal and devoted and completely obsessed with each other. as much as steve’s sweet girl loves to dote on him and take care of him, it’s more so her stevie’s self-assigned job to care for his baby.

and so steve buys her flowers, takes her on cute dates, is always looking out for her and can’t help his casual dominance, tying her shoes and carrying her places sometimes and brushing her hair and treating her like a little doll, his little doll. slowly acclimates her to what being in a relationship is like, he’s so so patient.

but he’s so hungry for her, it drives him insane how oblivious she is to the affect she has on him, how fucking adorable and clueless she is but also so very eager to please— because that’s all she wants, to be stevie’s good girl, to make him feel safe and loved and cared for, to make him feel good. but she gets greedy easily now… now that steve has ingrained in her mind that he truly wants her and loves her, that he’s all hers, that he wants to spoil her, marry her and make her his little wife, and spend his entire life with her!!!!!! her! his best friend! his person! they’re soulmates after all!!!!!!

her shyness stays, it’s just who she is (and steve finds it so fucking cute he has to constantly hold himself back from cooing at her all the time), but she’s just so horny for her stevie and doesn’t know how to say it ‘cause she’s so embarrassed and flustered and unsure and finds it hard to voice her needs and wants, so it manifests into tears. whenever she wants something from her stevie she gets all soft and small and pouty, grabbing at him and whining and holding his fingers to get his attention, and steve coos at her, can’t help it, his sweet angel girl so needy, and he always wants to give her the world, right? that’s his baby! she deserves to be spoiled! but her stevie is very clear in his rules— you have to speak up, tell him what you want, communicate. that’s very important to him.

and yeah, in theory his angel thinks it’s perfect, the communication and attention and how safe it makes her feel, but she physically can’t speak up when her stevie is making her feel all these sweet, intense, pretty feelings that she’s never felt before, even though she knows her stevie, her daddy, will always give her whatever she wants 😖 she just gets so pouty and teary-eyed and huffs and puffs, crossing her arms or stomping her foot like a spoiled brat until she’s so desperate bc her stevie is adamant she has to tell him what she wants before he does anything, that he’ll give her whatever she wants if she asks for it, that she whines and mumbles and asks him “pretty please, daddy” and steve is gone.

when her perfect, incredible, dreamy stevie is playing around with her, after she teases him or mocks him or they pretend-fight, or when they’re joking around, he’ll tickle her ‘cause she has the cutest little giggles, even though her laugh is kind of weird— sometimes loud, sometimes silent, sometimes she’ll fall down from laughing so hard. still, he loves it. it’s his favorite sound in the world, along with her little needy noises. it’s always different and funny and steve loves finding out what kind of laugh he’ll get out of his sweet girl that day, so he tickles. and if there’s one thing about his angel is that she loves using him as a weighted blanket, loves his weight on her, pressing her down and molding their bodies together, so that coupled with how his hands are all over her body, fingers gripping her and poking at her, his bulge rubbing against her, she gets needy. wet. very greedy. but if her stevie gets up or pulls away or sits back????? away from her????? she’ll turn into such a crybaby, like it’s the most insulting thing he could ever do, to pull away.

and steve knows. he knows how much she’s taken to steve being all over her, making her feel good, letting her explore and learn what they both like, being the only one to touch her and her him, but she still carries this air of innocence and softness and inexperience that drives him up the wall. the little looks she gives him and the shy smiles and the eagerness. she’ll be the horniest little minx, crawling up his lap and rubbing her cunt against his thigh, but will also hide her face and whimper and get all shy even if steve is balls deep inside her.

the duality of her never fails to disarm him completely. steve definitely tickles his angel sometimes when he wants to rile her up and get her needy for him— he thinks she’s clueless about it, but soon it turns into this thing where steve has pretty much conditioned her to turn into a needy little mess whenever he starts tickling her— she gets wet instantly now.

[roosterforme]

Always Ever Only You Part 28 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: As parents-to-be, you and Bradley start to get used to a new kind of routine. You've somehow replaced nights out at the bar with nausea, exhaustion, and a seemingly never ending ache for your husband. And he's showing you with his words and actions how ready he is for whatever comes next.

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

Length: 5000 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

On Monday morning, you woke up to Bradley in his uniform making coffee and toast when you wandered into the kitchen in nothing but his old UVA shirt. "You're up early," you mumbled with a smile, and he dropped the teaspoon he was holding onto the counter. 

"Hey," he crooned, rushing over to you and touching your belly like you were made out of porcelain. "How did you sleep?" he asked, kissing your forehead. He was fresh out of the shower, his skin still warm and his hair damp. 

"Okay," you whispered. "I'm starving."

"Yeah? You think you can eat?" he asked, already pulling you toward the toaster. But you were burying your nose in his neck and inhaling deeply before kissing his scars, making your glasses go crooked on your face.

"You smell so good."

He chuckled. "I just used your body wash like I always do."

"Mmm," you hummed, still holding onto him as he buttered a piece of toast for you. After a good sleep, you were feeling great, and a smile found your face as you thought about the reminder you set on your phone to call your doctor at lunchtime. "Hey, Daddy?"

Bradley's eyes practically rolled back as he looked at the ceiling and groaned. "The fact that it means two different things now when you call me that is going to drive me insane."

You laughed as you turned so your back was pressed to his front, and you took a bite of toast. Your stomach gurgled and lurched, but you didn't feel like you were going to be sick, so you took another bite. "Do you want to join me at lunchtime today when I call my doctor?"

His hands kept finding their way to your belly, this time slipping up inside the shirt. "I'm not flying today, so yes. Absolutely. You calling from your office?" 

"Yeah. I'll probably stop in the cafeteria and get something to eat and take it back up with me."

"I'll meet you there with a burrito bowl in my hand," he promised, gently stroking your tattoo with his fingertips. 

Bradley drove both of you to work, and you found that you were having a pretty good day. Your toast stayed down. Bickel complimented your work. Cat was making headway on your presentation for Annapolis. But then you froze in place in the lab. In all of the excitement of the pregnancy test, you completely forgot you were going to have to go to Annapolis next month. 

You groaned softly, and then you wanted to scream, because tears started to fill your eyes. The lack of control over your emotions was already a lot to handle, and you were only two days into this thing. You took a few deep breaths and tried to calm down, but the idea of leaving Bradley right now had you panicking. And then you thought about what another deployment would mean for the two of you.

"Are you okay?" Cat asked softly, and you tried to turn your face further away from her as you nodded.

"Yeah. Just fine," you managed. "Can you change the font on the slides to something a little bolder? Make it easier to read from the back of the presentation room?"

"Sure," she replied. "You know what else I can do?"

"What?"

"Sit here quietly and listen if you need to talk about something."

You wiped at your tears before turning toward her. "Thanks, but I'm fine." 

She raised one eyebrow before returning to typing. "Jake did say you were stubborn..."

You laughed in spite of yourself. "I don't even know why I'm friends with him," you replied, but you did know. He took care of you when Bradley was away, when you couldn't take care of yourself. In an effort to change the subject from you crying over your raging hormones and early pregnancy, you asked, "How are things going with Lieutenant Seresin anyway?"

"Excellent," she whispered. "Jeremiah got accepted into the daycare on base," she added. You knew she didn't talk about her son with too many people at work, but you weren't sure what this had to do with Jake.

"Hey, that's great. Now you don't have to drive across town if he gets sick. Especially since I don't even have a car for you to borrow at the moment," you muttered. But you could tell she wanted to say something else. You knew that giving her a few seconds of quiet would make her feel like she could talk about it, and soon she was telling you more.

"Jake prepaid for six months at the new daycare."

Okay. So things were getting quite serious. Then the idea that your own child might one day be enrolled in the same daycare as Jeremiah made you smile. "I told you Jake was a good one."

Cat rolled her eyes and went back to typing, but her smirk was soft, and you knew she wasn't disagreeing with you.

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

"I'm just saying, we should do an old school style keg party on the beach for Mickey's birthday." Nat was talking Bradley's ear off on the way to the cafeteria, but his head was in the clouds. All he could think about was the baby. Baby, baby, baby. He kept adding things to his Amazon cart, and he only found out you were pregnant two days ago.

"Kegger? Yeah, that sounds fun," he muttered, walking a little faster to get to you sooner. 

"Listen, if your wife starts doing a keg stand, I'm not going to stop her," she replied with a laugh. "She's hilarious when she's drunk."

Bradley stumbled. You weren't going to be able to drink alcohol now. Nights out at the Hard Deck drinking out of matching beer bottles were a thing of the past, at least until approximately the end of next March. He had no idea what to say, because he didn't know how long he was supposed to wait before he told his best friend that he was going to be a dad. "Yeah, she's a fucking delight," he said, making her laugh harder. 

He was going to need to have a conversation with you about all of this and figure out how to proceed. Right now he had more important things to do. Like collect his wife, call the doctor, and make sure you ate lunch. When he walked into the cafeteria, he saw you from behind, and he groaned softly. The way you filled out your khakis was always something he loved to see, but then he considered that your hips might get a little wider in a few months, and he stumbled again. 

"What's wrong with you today, Soul Sister?" Nat asked, but she noticed where he was looking, and she rolled her eyes. "Two years ago, I would have never bet a single cent on you ever settling down. And now look at you. Pathetic. In the best kind of way."

Bradley shook his head. You were turning to look at him now, and the way you bit your lip was giving him ideas. You waved to Nat as they approached, and Bradley picked up a burrito bowl for you. "Not today," you told him, wrapping your arms around his waist and looking up at him. "I'm not hungry for that."

"You want a sandwich instead?" he asked, kissing the top of your head as you pressed your body against his.

"I want my Daddy," you whispered softly, and he could see it in your eyes. 

"Jesus Christ," Nat complained. "Not right in front of my lunch. The two of you are repulsive. Don't forget to tell her about Mickey's party." 

Bradley watched his best friend storm off with her lunch tray as you asked, "What about Mickey's party?"

"I'll tell you later. You really don't want a burrito bowl?"

"No. I don't want hot sauce."

Bradley sputtered. "I'm sorry, what? You don't want hot sauce?"

You grinned as he grabbed two sandwiches instead. "The baby is saying no."

He let your words wash over him, and the fact that you were still holding onto him with that needy look in your eyes had him kissing you a little rough. "You want me? Right now?" 

When you nodded and whispered, "I need you," he practically hauled you and the food to the bank of elevators out in the hallway. "I'm really horny," you whined when he pushed the up arrow. "Like so fucking horny, Roo. Earlier I was crying about something, but I can't even remember what. And all I want right now is your cock in-"

Bradley smothered your lips with his as the elevator opened, revealing an admiral. It would be better to get a dirty look for kissing his wife than a reprimand for talking about how the two of you were about to get down in your office. Once the elevator was empty, he guided you inside where you just continued to kiss him. Then you led him down the hallway with a visible erection in his pants, and he hid behind you as you unlocked your door.

"You know, there once was a time when you told me I wasn't allowed to fuck you at work."

You closed and locked the door as he set down the sandwiches, and you looked at him with a predatory glint in your eye. "Shut up and pull your pants down, or I'll name the baby Honda Civic Bradshaw."

Bradley tried not to laugh as he worked at his belt, button and zipper. "Come on, Baby Girl. You can't even prove that's where I knocked you up. And if we're naming the baby after a vehicle, it's the Bronco for sure. Bronco Bradshaw, the coolest fucking kid in town."

And now you were laughing as you shimmied your pants down to your knees and treated Bradley to the view of you bent over with your arms folded on your desk. "Just fuck me, Daddy."

He palmed your ass in both hands and whispered, "My pleasure." Your head came to rest on your arms just as he lined himself up, and you sighed in relief when he started to thrust. You seemed instantly more relaxed, the tension melting away from your face. "You needed it that bad?" he murmured, reaching around to gently stroke your clit.

"Mmhmm," you hummed, tilting your head to look back at him. "So bad. I told you I was horny."

"Does this feel good?" he asked, keeping it to a slow and steady pace for now. You'd been like this when you stopped taking your birth control last year, and he vividly remembered coming home one day to find you riding the arm of the couch and begging for him. His fingers tightened on your hip as he tapped a pattern against your clit, making you buck back against him. 

"So good," you whined loudly, bucking back again. This was probably just because your hormones were all over the place right now, but he had no qualms about fucking you at work. Every time he did it, he thought about you sitting in the lab all afternoon with a tight, cum filled pussy. But then he remembered what else you and he were supposed to do today, so he pinched your clit until you moaned, and he fucked you harder. "Roo!"

"Yeah?" he asked, grinning as his hips slapped your ass with each stroke. Your pussy was so wet, his hand felt slick as he rubbed your clit in tight circles that had your legs shaking as you started a high pitched little whine. You sounded like a spoiled brat right now, his name all over your lips as you asked for more and more. 

You were about to come. He could tell. When he rammed himself deep and pressed on your clit, your pussy squeezed him tight, and you grabbed at the edge of your desk. "Bradley!" you gasped, wiggling your ass as you pulsed and moaned. He rolled his hips gently as he came, enjoying the sensation of added wetness and the knowledge that this was all just for fun since you were already pregnant. 

He had a smile on his face as he watched his cum drip onto your underwear before helping you pull it up. Your eyes were dreamy as Bradley tucked your shirt in for you. "All better?"

You nodded and wrapped your arms around him. "Yes, and I'm starving. I hope I can eat."

"Let's give it a try," he whispered, kissing your temple and guiding you to sit on his lap on the desk chair. "Just take it slow." After you took a few tentative nibbles of your sandwich, he asked, "Can we call your doctor before I have to go back out?"

"Oh," you gasped as you started to fumble with your phone. "I set a reminder, but I already forgot! I'm having a bit of a hard time focusing," you muttered. You pulled up the contact information and kissed his cheek, and Bradley listened to you tell the nurse your full name on speakerphone. He'd never tire of hearing his last name tacked on after yours, and instead of digging into his own sandwich, he wrapped you up in his arms. 

You snuggled against him as you told the nurse, "I'm pregnant! I took some tests this past weekend, and they were all positive. I think I'm between five and six weeks along." Bradley rubbed your belly with his big hand while you scheduled an appointment for an evening when he could go with you.

When you ended the call, he handed you his phone. "Enter your appointment into my calendar? I need to have a very important conversation." You took his phone as he pulled you closer until you were straddling his lap, and then he teased your belly with his knuckles through your shirt and leaned a little closer. "Hey, kiddo. I know you think it's fun in there, but can you give Mommy a little break? Maybe let her go the rest of the day without yacking?"

You giggled as you typed away on his phone. "Yes, please listen to Daddy."

When you met his gaze, he buried his face against your neck. "I'm obsessed with both meanings of that word now, Sweetheart."

With a kiss to the corner of his mustache, you said, "The appointment is all set. Hopefully we can see an ultrasound. And I don't even mind the barfing as long as the baby is healthy."

Bradley ran his hand along your hair. An ultrasound. A little photo of the baby. His baby. He squeezed you so tight, you squeaked. "I can't wait. I can't wait for all of this."

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

Bradley was serious about everything. He found crib bedding and paint swatches online, and you had to keep reminding him that it wasn't a good idea to get ahead of yourselves too early on. Every time you brought it up as gently as you could, you ended up with his lips on yours, effectively silencing you. 

"Okay," he murmured against your lips on Thursday morning while he rubbed your back. You were standing in his arms in the kitchen, practically in tears because you spent twenty minutes throwing up as soon as you got out of bed. You started carrying a toothbrush to work with you, because it seemed to be happening more and more now. You were so hungry, you just wanted to be able to eat even a small meal. But now he was talking about cribs again.

"We can't buy furniture yet, Roo. We just can't."

"I know, Sweetheart. I'm trying to reel it in."

"We don't even have the new Bronco yet," you reminded him, which would probably just get him thinking about car seats. 

"Soon," he whispered, reaching for the discarded piece of dry toast on the plate next to him. "Take another little bite." 

You nodded as your mouth watered, and tears sprang to your eyes as you nibbled on it. When you swallowed it down, you said, "If you're this patient with me, I might actually die watching you feed a baby."

Your husband buried his nose in your hair and kissed you there. "I'll take care of both of you."

And then, you felt that thrum of desire that was always just below the surface right now. You swore you could smell Bradley everywhere, all day long, even when you were working in your lab. His mustache skimmed the shell of your ear, and your pussy clenched. A soft moan escaped your lips, and his deep laughter gave you goosebumps. "Baby Girl. We do not have time for that right now. And I'm flying all day today."

You pouted up at him. "Not even a really quick fuck?"

"No," he replied as he patted your rear end. "You need to get in the Bronco so we can get on base before we're late. Then later we have to help Bob move into your old place with Maria. Then I'm going to make sure you eat something. Then, and only then, can we have sex before bed."

"You're so mean."

He cocked his head and gave you side eye. "You liked me when I got you pregnant in your shit mobile."

Your eyes lit up. "So you're admitting I'm right? About the backseat?" 

"I don't know what you're talking about," he replied, grabbing the sandwich he made himself so he wouldn't have to leave the tarmac later. "Let's get going."

Bradley buckled you in, and you made it halfway to work before you started to feel nauseous. In an effort to distract yourself, you asked, "What was the excuse you gave about missing out on the Hard Deck last night?"

He winced and looked at you briefly. "I said Tramp got into something and threw up everywhere. I fucking hate lying."

"I know, but it's too early to tell them," you groaned. "And now we need to keep thinking of excuses? I hate this."

"Yeah... about that... Mickey's birthday party is a beach kegger. It was Nat's idea."

You let your forehead rest against the window. "Okay. I mean, maybe I can offer to be the designated driver that night? Or maybe you and I can just keep switching cups while you drink all the beer?"

"We'll figure it out," he murmured. "I'm not worried about that so much as keeping you healthy right now. I'll lie to them about this if I have to."

You nodded as a wave of saliva filled your mouth and made you gag. "Pull over!"

"What?" Bradley asked, already flipping on the hazard lights and stopping in front of a random driveway.

"Oh god," you groaned as you unbuckled, opened the door, and stumbled as you threw up into a storm grate. You heard his door slam as he ran around the back of the Bronco to help you stand there as you continued to vomit next to someone's mailbox and lilac bush. 

Then you heard a man's voice, and when you looked up, there was the homeowner, watering his flowers. "Is everything okay?" he asked cautiously as you heaved.

"Just great," Bradley replied in an upbeat tone that made you want to kick him. "My wife's pregnant."

"Oh... well, congratulations," he replied as you finally stood up straight and gave him a little wave. 

Bradley helped you buckle in again and forfeited the water thermos from his lunch as you groaned, "That was embarrassing. Did you really have to tell him that?"

He kissed your forehead. "It was nice to be able to tell someone. It's not like he even knows us."

"That's true," you whispered, taking a sip of cold water. "This is miserable."

Bradley leaned down and kissed your belly before he said, "What did I tell you about being chill? Mommy needs a break."

You ran your fingers through his soft curls. "Let's just go to work so you don't get reprimanded, Lieutenant Commander."

"Whatever you say, Lieutenant Commander."

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

It was kind of surreal for Bradley, being back at your apartment again. "I haven't been here since I moved your old bed frame out," he mused as you and he walked inside holding hands. The back of the Bronco was filled with stuff from Bob's old place, but he wanted to know where to put things before he started moving boxes in. 

"The bed frame that you broke?" you asked, and then both of your eyebrows shot up. "Just like my car? I'm sensing a theme here when it comes to you and me fucking."

Bradley blushed. He wasn't even going to mention the patio chair or handful of articles of your clothing he'd also wrecked in the process. "Keep it down, Sweetheart. Bob doesn't need to know about that."

"He's not that innocent," you whispered, and Bradley watched his friend blush as Maria patted him on the shoulder. "Or maybe he is."

"Hey, Bob, where do you want all the boxes?" Bradley asked as you walked over to Maria and then disappeared down the hallway. His mind wandered to that first night he spent here with you. The first time you slept together. The first time you made him Marry Me Rooster. The first time he thought he could fall in love with someone who could love him back. He already knew he had deep feelings that night, and now someday you'd be cooking that dinner for three of you. 

"Did you hear me?" Bob asked cautiously as Bradley stood staring into the kitchen. "You can take everything into my room, and I'll sort it later."

"Sure," Bradley replied, nodding at him as he snapped out of his daydream. He ran back down the familiar stairs, grabbed some boxes, and took them back up. He smiled to himself as he recalled carrying you up the same stairs when you'd been drunk enough to scare away any other woman within a five mile radius who even dared to look at him. 

When he strolled back inside, he went to your old bedroom where you were standing with Maria and laughing about something in the walk-in closet. He set the boxes down, went directly to you and kissed you. "Hi," you sputtered, clearly caught off guard but smiling nonetheless. "Everything okay?"

"Yep." He cupped your cheek and kissed you one more time. "Very good. Perfect."

"I'll help you carry up some more boxes," you told him, your voice sounding a little breathy. He gave you an unamused look as the three of you exited the closet, but he waited until you and he were walking out of the apartment together. 

"You're not carrying jack shit, Sweetheart," he informed you. "I looked online, and you shouldn't lift more than twenty pounds."

You waved your hand in the air and said, "That's not until the second and third trimesters." He watched you walk down the stairs, and then he had to rush to catch up with you in the parking lot. 

"Absolutely not," he practically growled when you reached for a cardboard box. He had you pinned between his body and the open tailgate. "It's not happening." You slowly set the box down and turned to face him, and he squeezed your hip. "What's the point of having a husband who works out all the time if he's not going to carry everything for his pregnant wife?"

You moaned. You fucking moaned his name. "Bradley." Then you were sitting on the tailgate with your legs spread wide and his tongue in your mouth. Your hands were tucked up inside his tee shirt, gripping at his abs and the fly of his jeans. "You turn me on," you whined, wrapping your legs around his waist and rubbing yourself against him. 

"God damn it," he cursed, big fingers gripping the back of your neck as you kissed along his chin and licked his Adam's apple. It was so tempting, taking you in the parking lot like a horny teenager. But it wasn't even dark out yet, and Maria would know exactly what was going on. He wrenched his body back a few inches and shook his head while you pouted at him. "I'll give it to you any way you want it when we get home, but you need to wait."

You let your legs fall away from his body before sliding down from the tailgate. He kissed your little frown, reached inside one of the boxes, and removed three plastic hangers. "You may carry these." You looked up at him and sighed. He stacked up three boxes and carried them up the stairs behind you.

"I still think you're being a little ridiculous," you told him as he watched your ass sway. 

"About what, Sweetheart? Not fucking you in the middle of a parking lot where someone was walking a chihuaha? Or about the hangers?" 

You snorted as you walked into the apartment once again. "Both."

"You need to behave."

Once the Bronco was unloaded, you and Bradley hung out for a few minutes. Maria offered up some beer and said she could order a pizza, but the firm but barely perceptible shake of your head had Bradley saying, "We need to get home and let Tramp out, but thank you."

"Is he feeling better?" Bob asked. "I know you said he got sick yesterday, and that's why you had to skip the Hard Deck."

"No," you replied quickly. "That's why we have to get back to let him out. He's been making such a mess. I think he ate something in the yard that he really shouldn't have."

"That's a bummer," Maria said, and Bradley couldn't help but notice the way Bob was looking at her with his cheeks tinged pink. "We skipping brunch this Sunday since Cam's flying to Pittsburgh for his sister's wedding? Or do you want to make it a girls day?"

You rolled your eyes. "He will bitch incessantly if we go without him. It's not even worth it."

"You're right," she replied, shrugging and letting her arms drop to her sides. Bradley watched you hug your friend and then kiss Bob on the cheek which made him blush even more. 

"Enjoy your new room, Bob. And enjoy the best roommate in the world while you're at it," you told him. 

"Wow," Bradley said, hands on his hips. "That stings a little bit."

"I'm sure she's making a valid point," Maria told him with a smirk.

"Yeah, but I'm standing right here," he said with a laugh as he shook Bob's hand. "See you at work tomorrow."

"Thank you!" Bob called after Bradley as he followed you back out and down the stairs. 

You were laughing as he scooped you up and placed you on the front seat. "You won't even let me carry myself!"

"Do not test me," he warned as he pulled the seatbelt across your body. "Especially since you said I'm not the best roommate you've ever had."

"You're not a roommate, Roo! You were a sexy boyfriend and then a sexy fiancé and now you're a sexy husband." You kissed him and whispered, "And soon you'll be a sexy Daddy. And I just so happen to live with you."

He placed his hand on your belly and murmured, "I can't wait to be a Daddy. Can't wait for your belly to get big. I'm so excited to meet the little bun when we go to the ultrasound."

You were moaning his name again, so he closed the door and made quick work of driving home. The route was so familiar from him doing it so many times when you and he were just starting out dating, and your hand rested heavy on his thigh. When he reached down, he could feel your engagement ring and wedding band under his palm. He would take care of you. He was already getting used to how much and when you needed to eat to avoid the horrible nausea. He was already thinking about hiring a contractor to work on the rooms upstairs. It didn't matter what it was, he'd make sure it was perfect for you. 

And that included fucking you into the mattress if you wanted him to. But when he pulled into the driveway, you were sound asleep next to him. He laughed. "Seriously?" He knew you needed to sleep, so he carefully carried you inside after he let Tramp out in the backyard. 

"What happened?" you asked, still half asleep as he set you down in bed. 

"We're home," he whispered, removing your glasses, shoes, socks and jeans. "Do you think you should eat some crackers?" You just shook your head and rolled toward his usual spot like you were searching for him there. He chuckled as you snuggled against the pillow. "I'll be in shortly."

He took Tramp for a walk and made himself a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. He ate the sandwich while he spread some peanut butter on a few unsalted crackers just in case you woke up hungry in the middle of the night. Then he took a shower and got you to sit up and take a sip of water before he climbed in bed. 

And that's when he checked his phone for the first time in hours. He tapped the icon for the new voicemail from 6:02 pm and listened to a voice tell him something so delightful, he almost woke you up to share it with you. 

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

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

He's ready to go. As soon as he's allowed to talk about the pregnancy, he's going to be hanging a banner up in front of the house about it. The new Bronco arrives soon. Thanks @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 29

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