#and I think this is another occurrence of that

[sometimesanalice]

Call My Bluff

Summary: Rooster and Hangman have always attracted attention wherever they go. You aren't jealous, it’s just getting hard to ignore. It’s a good thing they're more than happy to remind you just who you belong with.

Pairing: Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Female Reader x Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin

Length: 5.8k

Warnings: smut and a dash of angst (mdni)

(author's note: this fic is set in the Up the Ante universe, however it can be read on it's own!)

You knew you were staring- casually observing, one could argue- but it was hard to pull your gaze away from Jake at the bar.

He had gone to get another round of drinks for everyone more than ten minutes ago. It was a busy night at the Hard Deck, but not that busy. It really shouldn’t have surprised you though to realize why he was held up, especially with the way his tight white t-shirt was offsetting his end of summer tan. He’s always been too damn charming for his own good, especially when it was paired with that deep rooted sense of southern hospitality.

It wasn’t a rare occurrence to see Hangman getting hit on by another woman. However, it was the second time that night he’d been approached by the same woman with all too interested eyes and an enticing smile.

“If I didn’t know better,” Rooster says, sliding up to you and squeezing your hip, “I’d say you’d look like you were jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.” It comes out a bit too short to be believable.

He just gives you a knowing look, amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. “Well, you know I think you look gorgeous in pretty much everything. Including that particular shade of green.”

You let out an annoyed huff and take distracted sip of the remnants of your drink, which was now mostly melted ice cubes with an essence of gin.

Bradley just chuckles lightly and takes a quick glance around the room before pressing a quick kiss to the side of your head.

“I’m sure I could think of a couple ways to distract you," he offers.

You’ve been enjoying this something with them over the last few months. The three of you fell into everything so easily, but it wasn’t something you’d put a label on yet. You’ve always been the type of woman who likes having all the answers, but with them- with this- for the first time in your life you were ok with not having them.

There were electrifying nights the three of you spent together. And there were peaceful nights you spent home alone. There were times it was just you and Rooster and other times when it was just Hangman and you. There was time spent in beds and out of them. There were sunny days spent on the beach. There were hours spent taking road trips and exploring your new state. There were nice dinners out and quiet nights in. There were reservations made for two and there were tickets bought for three.

It was a new dynamic for you, and something you’d never could have expected. And you’ve been happy.

Really, really happy.

But over the last couple of weeks, it’s been hard ignoring the voice in the back of your head that has been filling your brain with all the what-ifs.

What if this isn’t working for them the way it was working for you.

What if this causal arrangement you have with them isn’t enough.

Or worse, what if you’re being selfish with them.

As you watch Hangman with that smooth smile on his face- but without a trace of those dimples you know so well- as he talks to the pretty girl near his elbow, you can’t help but wonder if this something – with him, with them- comes with an expiration date.

The room feels too small with the crowd of people- with their loud chatter and booming bursts of laughter- and all the too big thoughts swirling around in your head. Everything feels like too much, from the rings of ceramic mugs on the ceiling to the string lights and model planes around the bar to the patches covered walls.

“I’ll be right back,” you murmur, stepping out of Bradley’s grasp.

He hums, letting you know he’d heard you, giving you your space before drifting over to the pool table where the rest of the Daggers are gathered around.

And then you walk straight out the front door and leave.

You’ve been home for less than an hour when you hear a set of car doors shut with a heavy thud outside of your house. And there’s no question in your mind about who it could be.

The two quick, sharp raps on your front door only a few moments later confirm what you already knew.

You’d turned your phone off the moment you’d gotten in your car, wanting some time to yourself, not in any kind of mood now to be around other people. The only thing you could think of had been getting home so that you could simmer in peace. You had just wanted to get your head back on right without feeling like the walls were pressing in on you.

You open the door to see Rooster standing there looking pissed. His big arms crossed over his chest, jaw tight, and lips pressed firmly together in a flat line. Jake is just a step behind him, leaning against the porch post with his poker face already in place, a pretty picture of nonchalance.

“We tried calling,” Bradley rasps, the words clipped and short. You can tell he’s trying to keep his temper in check, but there was no missing the storm cloud behind his eyes.

You blink at him and drum your nails on the side of the door, giving him a flippant shrug. And Jake lets out a low disapproving whistle that grates on your already ragged nerves.

Rooster lifts an eyebrow at you like really. He’s always been the more hot headed one of the two of them. You know this cold shoulder act of yours is pushing his buttons, and you’re surprised he hasn’t called you out on it yet.

Not that you’d probably answer him anyways.

The last thing you want to do is talk.

It was why you left in the first place.

You didn’t want to talk. You didn’t want to think. And you really didn’t want to deal with your feelings.

Sex was easy. Sex was fun. Sex wasn’t complicated.

Everything else is exactly what you’d been trying to get away from, and instead all you’d done was have it delivered directly to your doorstep.

“I don’t remember inviting either one of you over,” you state, coolly, doing your best to feign indifference.

Rooster’s mouth drops opens, but Hangman is quicker on the draw. “And yet, here we are,” he says, stating the obvious, then mirroring the same brazen shrug you’d given the glowering man in front of you. “Guess the question is, are you going to let us in?”

You know without a doubt that if you said no they’d respect your decision and walk themselves right back to Jake’s truck and out of your drive away. You could have your space to simmer, just like you’d wanted.

What you’d thought you wanted.

…

Or.

Or maybe you just needed to remind yourself what exactly this is. Since there’s not much room to think when you’re too busy coming.

You drag your gaze from Bradley’s smoldering whiskey brown eyes to Jake’s all too observant sea green ones, before spinning away from them to saunter down the hallway towards your bedroom.

Knowing you still have the full weight of their twin stares on you, you reach for the hem of the oversized shirt from your college days that you’d thrown on the second you’d arrive home and tug it up and off, dropping it on the floor right before you turn the corner and out of their view.

There are a few noises you’re able to pick out in the too quiet of your house over your thundering heartbeat as you flick on the switch to the lamp in the corner of your room. The click of the front door being shut and the deadbolt turned into place. The sound of their sturdy soled shoes being toed off at the entry. The low baritone of Hangman’s murmured drawl, although the words that are spoken are too soft for you to make out.

And then the one you’d been anticipating the most, their weighty footsteps coming down the hallway to your bedroom. They’ve always teased you about it, with all of the soft pinks and creamy neutrals, and how it looks too sweet, too pure for a woman who enjoys taking two cocks as much as you do. But you’d seen the gleam in their eyes and the gears turning in their heads when they’d help you set up your pretty white wrought iron bedframe; it was the one thing they’d never commented on, especially since you were more than happy letting them tie you up to it.

You’ve just shimmied out of your panties- still bent at the waist- when you hear Bradley groan behind you. You linger there a moment longer than you need to, making sure he gets a good look at you like this. From reflection in the mirror that’s hung on your wall, you can see that the irritation is still rolling off of him in waves, but so is the heat of his want as he watches you stand back up with greedy, appreciative eyes.

Turning back towards him you let him take his fill of your naked body, one hip temptingly tipped to the side, daring him to be the one first to make a move.

Rooster slowly drags his heated gaze over you before he pulls his t-shirt over his head in that one-handed way that men do before pitching it off to the side. His broad chest is already starting to turn your favorite shade of flushed pink.

“How can a girl as pretty as you be so goddamn frustrating?” he mutters as he flicks open the button of his tight jeans. Only unzipping them enough to release some of the pressure off his visibly hard cock in a way that shows you just how turned on he is.

You feel high off of your own self-satisfaction as it twists and swirls in your chest.

“I think she just likes keeping us on our toes,” Hangman drawls, entering the room. A slight look of amusement coasts over his handsome face as he looks from you to Rooster. Clearly content to wait for the two of you to work whatever’s going on out of your systems.

You skim your fingers up your body and cup your breast in your hand. “What? You don’t think you can keep up, Rooster?” you challenge. He tips his head back up towards the ceiling and forces out a breath through pursed lips. And you’re tempted to see just how far you can push him.

“Oh, darlin’,” Jake chuckles, shaking his head, “You’re determined to trouble tonight, aren’t you?”

“And if I am?” you taunt, rolling your nipple between your fingers. Two sets of eyes hone in on the motion, but no one makes a move. “But if you both are just going to stand there, I’ve got a vibrator that works just as well- if not better.”

You’re trying to goad them. You know it and they know it.

Rooster struts up to you, grabbing a handful of your ass and hauls you against him. He’s thick and firm against your stomach. “If you’re going to act like a brat, then I’m going to treat you like a brat, baby,” he murmurs into the hinge of your jaw, “Now, get on the bed.” He punctuates the order with a swift, firm flat-handed slap.

And for the first time since you’d left the bar, you grin. Feeling entirely too pleased with yourself, even with the lingering sting of his handiwork.

This. This is what you want.

You want demanding fingers and the scrape of teeth on your skin. You want messy mouths and generous tongues.  You want fast and hard and filthy and rough. You want to hear their heavy breaths and moans and curses. You want to give and to take, only for them to reward you with more.

You want as much of them as you can have, for as long as you can have them.

Bradley basically herds you to the bed while Jake watches on with a smirk, not that you needed much convincing anyways. The second you’re stretched across it, Bradley is on top of you wedging himself and those wide shoulders of his between your thighs.

There’s no build up, no gentle lead in. Rooster’s mouth is set on ruination.

He’s had you enough times that he knows exactly how to flick and circle and lave over you in a way that will end with white noise in your ears and starbursts behind your eyelids. His tongue is unrelenting on your clit, showing you no mercy as you start to quake under his touch.

It’s dizzying how fast he’s gotten you so spun up. Your breaths are coming out ragged and uneven as your fingers dig into the fabric of your gauzy duvet. And every time you whimper, he rewards you with a groan that only ripples up and throughout your keyed up body.

You’re right there, so so close to unraveling.

And then he pulls his mouth off of you, “Why’d you leave?”

A shocked gasp escapes you. At the timing of the question and the way he bites the fleshy part at the crease of your thigh.

“Bradley.” You keen as he sucks the very same spot, like he wants to mark you as his own.

“C’mon now, Bradshaw,” Jake tuts, from where he’s leaning against the door jamb, “Our girl was so close.” His ankles casually cross over each other, looking right at home as he watches you get eaten out by another man.

Rooster scoffs. “She can come as much as she wants, after she answers the damn question.” He brings the hand that had been gripping your hip over the center of you. “How about this,” he says, sinking a single thick finger into you, “Consider this a show of good faith.”

And then he has the audacity to send you a smirk.

“Fuck you, Rooster,” you huff, tilting into his touch. Bradley just hums and rolls his eyes, because he knows you well enough to tell when you actually mean it and when you don’t.

“You could be,” he reminds you. Then crooks his finger just enough to show you how devastatingly good it could be if he wasn’t set on edging an answer out of you.

You roll your hips trying to take more. To get him to give more. Anything to get you to that heady place again, where the only thing keeping you grounded in the moment is their bodies against yours.

“That’s it, sweetheart, keep riding his fingers.” Hangman’s hot gaze roams all over you as he crosses the room to sit down on the bed next to you. He reaches out and runs a big hand down your sternum, you arch into it offering more of yourself up to his touch. You know he’s feeling every jump of the muscles in your stomach under his heavy hand as he rests it in the soft space under your bellybutton.

You suck in a breath when Bradley teases you with a second finger. He only allows you one heartbeat of hope before he denies you that more, more, more you’re desperate for.

But he wasn’t the only one in the room capable of giving you exactly what you wanted.

“Jake, come on, fuck me.” You look up at him from under your lashes, hoping he’ll be the one to cave first.

“You’re a regular poet laurate, aren’t you,” Jake states, shaking his head at you.

You shoot him a glare. “I’ll write you a haiku later, just make me come.”

You feel a puff of air over your cunt from Rooster’s amused chuckle. It causes you to clench around his finger, but it’s not enough to get you there.

You try to reach for Hangman’s cock, still confined in the snug jeans he was wearing. He doesn’t even give you the chance to undo the top button before he catches your hand in his. “Nuh-uh, greedy girl, none of that.” Hangman presses the palm of your hand over his length, showing exactly what you’re being denied. “Not sure you’ve earned this, not after your disappearing act.”

“Not you too,” you pant. Weren’t sure if it was the weight on your chest or the sheer want of them that was making it hard for you to get a proper breath.

“Yes, me too. I don’t think you realize just how much you worried the old man,” Jake drawls, “You know that can’t be good for his heart.”

The old man between your trembling thighs takes the opportunity to rub his mustache over your needy clit, the friction of it almost makes you jump out of your too tight skin. And for an all too brief moment your mind blanks as need ricochets throughout your body, the only thing you can think of is how desperate you are to come.

Jake collects your other wrist in his warm hand and brings them up above your head. He leans over you, with your faces only a few inches apart you can smell the peppermint of his favorite mints on his breath.

“Leave them up there for me,” he murmurs. It’s a command that’s dressed up like a request.

He pauses a moment and searches your eyes, asking you a silent question with the resolved dip of his chin. You answer by curling your fingers into the edge of your mattress, it’s your first concession of the evening. The only one you’re planning on making.

Jake gives them a quick squeeze before he lets go, “Good girl.” His southern accent is smoother and richer than honey against your ear, it makes your toes curl in response.

“Oh, now you want to behave,” Bradley grumbles into your inner thigh, his slightly chapped lips scraping against your oversensitive skin. “Don’t forget, I’m still waiting for an answer, baby.”

His fingertip on your clit isn’t teasing anymore, now it feels like a taunt.

“Next question.” You dig your heel into his shoulder blade, urging him for more, but he doesn’t budge an inch.

Neither one of you are ready to fold.

You can feel the sweat starting to collect behind your knees where they’re resting over the overheated skin of Bradley’s shoulders as he alternates between slow, shallow thrusts and a featherlight touch of his calloused fingertip against your clit. Every now and then- if he’s feeling generous- he’ll treat you to his tongue, dipping out to taste and tease you.

Rooster takes his time in that thorough way of his to get your legs quivering and quaking. He keeps you teetering there, perfectly and precisely balanced on the edge. Not enough to get you off, but just enough to keep a steady flow of wetness dripping out of you. You don’t need to see his hand to know you’re making a mess out of him. Out of yourself. And probably out of your duvet.

Your body feels like a house of cards, just one breath away from toppling over. gust

“Jesus,” Jake says, his voice husky and rough, “I won’t ever get tired of seeing you like this.” His eyes feasting on your body that’s displayed just for their hungry gaze.

But he might, that voice in your head taunts you. They might.

You press your forehead into his denim covered thigh, it’s all too much and not enough all at once.

This wasn’t what you’d imagined when you’d invited them inside. You’d envisioned hand mussed hair and skin-on-skin and their flushed, satisfied faces. And so far, you were still the only one naked.

“You’re not… This isn’t…” Your fingers flex as your arms strain with the effort to keep them where they are raised above your head. “Why are you still dressed?” you hotly demand, not ready to forfeit this one-sided fight.

“I’m just here for the free show.” Hangman circles his finger lazily around your bellybutton. “You’ve been so determined to be so tight-lipped all night, but that pretty pussy of yours is sure making a lot of noise for a woman who hasn’t even been properly fucked yet.”

You’re hit with the realization that he’s giving you a taste of what you’d been dishing out since the moment they’d arrived, always one to give as good as he gets. It was just as hot as it was infuriating. Because that’s the thing about knowing how to push someone’s buttons was that they knew exactly how to push yours in return.

“You better watch your mout-ah.” You might have sounded almost convincing if Rooster hadn’t pumped three thick fingers into you suddenly, stretching and spreading you around them. You gasp and arch off the bed at the sensation. It’s the most he’s given you all night.

Jake tsks, flashing you his dimples. “But I’m having fun watching his mouth instead,” he says, nodding his head towards Bradley. “Speaking of, you got a little something on your chin there, Bradshaw.”

“That’s because arguing gets her wet.”

You can’t even deny it because the evidence is right there for them both to hear in the slick sound of him thrusting his fingers back into you. You press your head into the bed and try to arch your hips, but Jake’s firm hand pushes them back down, making you whine.

“Rooster, please, I just want to come.” And if it sounds like begging, it’s because you are now.

“And you know what I want, so it seems we’re at a stalemate.” You try to hitch your right leg open further, but Bradley hooks his arm around your thigh and pulls it back in, keeping you in place. “Baby, I’ve got all the time in the world. I’m a patient man. For as much fun as I’m having here trying to get an answer out of you, I’d much rather be coaxing orgasms from you instead.”

The frustration swells and crests inside of you. You’re tired of being toyed with when all you’d wanted was to not have to think for a while.

“Bradley, you can’t seriously expect me to want to have a damn heart-to-heart when your fingers are literally inside of me,” you fume.

“Ok, then.” He pins you with a pointed look and withdraws them, finally calling your bluff. “Can you please tell us what the hell is going on now?”

Jake tips your chin up to look at him, the congeniality replaced on his face with seriousness. “As much as I try to avoid agreeing with him, I think you owe us an explanation for why you left without saying a single word to either one of us, darlin’.”

“I didn’t realize I answered to you,” you say, haughtily. Not proud of yourself for getting short with them when they don’t deserve the heat of your irritation.  

His eyebrows pull together in confusion. “Hey now, you know it’s not like that.”

“What’s it like then, Jake? It’s not like you’re-” you cut yourself off, pressing your lips tightly together.

Of course he doesn’t let it slide. “We’re not what?”

Him and Rooster exchange a look over the top of you when you don’t elaborate further, some unspoken understanding passing between them. The mood between the three of you shifting immediately.

Hangman tugs you up just enough for him to maneuver himself behind you and cradles you back against his chest, his arms winding themselves around your waist. As Bradley rests his chin on top of your thigh, his thumb making soothing circles on the swell of your hip, “We’re not what, baby?” And you’re not sure you’ve ever heard his raspy voice so soft before.  

The silence stretches as you war with yourself. They know you well enough to know you need a moment. You’d made a career for yourself knowing the right words- the strategic kind- but when it came to communicating your feelings, you’d always found it so much harder to string them together.

This is the exact conversation you’d been trying so hard to run from, but you didn’t want to play games with them anymore.

Sharing your emotions makes you feel a thousand times more vulnerable than being naked in front of them ever has. With them you feel sexy and powerful and wanted, especially when you’re pressed between them like you are now. It’s a different kind of intimacy entirely letting them see the confusing mess of what’s going on inside your mind.

“Does this have anything to do with Rooster teasing you about being jealous earlier tonight?” Hangman asks, lifting an eyebrow. “Because you should know by now that I only have eyes for one girl.”

And there it is- bullseye. 

Your gaze slides over to Bradley, “You told him about that?” He shrugs a broad shoulder, which jostles the thigh that’s still draped over it.

“He was concerned when we realized you weren’t at the Hard Deck anymore, we both were.” Jake cups your cheek and turns your face back to him, encouraging you to rest your head on his shoulder.  “I asked him to fill me in on what I’d missed, because I thought we were having a good night up until I came back from the bar to learn you weren’t anywhere to be found and not answering your phone.”

The wave of guilt that washes over you makes your stomach churn uncomfortably. You’d been so inside your own head that you hadn’t taken even a moment to think about how they’d feel about your impulsive retreat. At the very least, you should have sent a text before turning off your phone.

You chew on your lower lip for a moment, before speaking, your voice quiet and tentative, “You can’t be jealous when you don’t have any real claim to someone.”

It’s not like you can be frustrated at anyone other than yourself. You were the one who wanted to try and keep things discreet. Casual. Because of your job and theirs. People talked enough on their own without you wanting to give them any more fuel to add to the smoking embers.

The rumors of your favorite aviators’ hook up had followed them for years since that first time it happened in Florida, just not many people knew that it had been you from the very start. You’d all kept in touch, but infrequent nights spent tangled in sheets before returning back to your real life was different than all of you being stationed together for the foreseeable future.

The ambiguity of what you all were to each other had chafed at you tonight in a way it never has before. It wasn’t something that you’d all talked about together before. After seeing the interest on the other woman’s face, you couldn’t deny that her and Jake had looked good together. But what you’d been most struck by was just how content and at ease he looked leaning there with an elbow at the bar.

It wasn’t a secret those closest to you all there was something going on between the three of you. After all, Bradley was affectionate and Jake was objectively the least subtle man on the planet. It wasn’t something you were hiding; it just wasn’t something you were actively trying to broadcast to all of NAS North Island.

But for the most part, they’d been following your lead since they knew you liked to keep your cards close to your chest. And while you liked to consider yourself an enigma, they were both looking at you right now like you were a book that only they were fluent in reading.

“‘Real claim’,” Jake repeats back to you, slowly. Like he’s not believing what he’s hearing. “Oh darlin’, where’d you get that idea?”

“Is that what this is all about?” Rooster’s eyes are intense as he looks at you. “Just because we’ve been keeping things casual doesn’t mean this thing between all of us isn’t the real deal. I’m not seeing or sleeping with anyone else. And I don’t want to.”

“I’m not either,” Hangman adds, running his hands along your sides. “I’ve got my hands more than full with you and I like it that way.”

You knew that they weren’t and they knew you weren’t too. Sex has always been the easier thing to talk about. That particular discussion had ended with the mix of their cum dripping out of you and too many orgasms to count.

But what happened if having fun turned into wanting more. You didn’t know how long they’d be fine with this dynamic, with splitting time and attention.

You look from one to the other. From green to brown. “And you’re both truly fine with sharing? I need you to be really honest with me.”

Bradley tilts his head at you, and asks, “You don’t think we’ve talked about this before?”

A surprised laugh almost slips out of you at the mental image of them hashing out their feelings during the commercials between some game on TV, but he’s looking at you so thoughtfully that you know he’s being entirely serious. The fact that this was something they’d already discussed between themselves on their own was news to you, especially considering you felt like you could barely get the words out yourself.

“I had no idea,” you admit, not sure whether to feel sheepish or not.

Jake tangles the fingers of your right hands together. “The way I see it is that even when you’re not with me, I know you’re with someone I know and trust, who cares about you just as much as I do. Someone who’s going to look out for you the same way that I would.”

You almost expect him to tack on a joke at Rooster’s expense at the end, a bit of banter or something to liven the mood, but he doesn’t. And the weight of his words sinks into you.

“And when we’re together? When it’s the three of us?” You reach out with your other hand to run your thumb along Bradley’s jaw, needing to touch him too.

“You know us pilots, we’re a competitive bunch. But we also work as well on our own as we do as a team.” Bradley explains, running his hands along the outside of your legs. “And what we do here together with you, it just feels like an extension of how we are up there.” Jake squeezes your hand in agreement.

“But how is this going to work? It’s already complicated enough when there are only two people in the equation.”

“You’re the one calling the shots here. You’re in charge and always have been ever since that first time in Pensacola,” Rooster reminds you. “We’re both here because we don’t want anyone else. This doesn’t need to be complicated. Whether you’re with him or with me or we’re all together. It’s already working just fine when you aren’t going ghost on us and ditching us without saying a word.”

You know you’re going to have to make it up to him. For as confident and sure of himself as Bradley Bradshaw is, you know the spots where he’s tender and tonight you were careless with them. You’re just grateful he’s going to give you the chance to make things right by him.

“We’re good. This is good,” Jake promises, leaning his forehead against your temple.

You feel like your heart might burst from the sheer affection you have for the two of them.

“I’m sorry about tonight,” you say, apologetically.

Hangman’s lips skim your cheek. “It’s water under the bridge, darlin’. But if you need space, tell us. Don’t just cut us off like that, ok?” You nod in agreement. “So what do you need from us? Do you want to call us your boyfriends?”

“I think I just…” You pause to mull over your words. They already were in all the ways that mattered, you just weren’t sure whether you were ready to define it entirely. At least not yet. “I think I just need to know that you’re happy. Just like this. With how we’ve been doing things.”

“Baby.” Bradley croons. So sweetly, so indulgently. And you get the first real smile you’ve seen from him since he arrived on your doorstep. It’s your turn to smile when he drops a kiss to the top of your thigh. “Are you happy?”

The answer is easy.

“Yes.”

He looks over at Jake. “And are you?”

Jake has his chin propped up on your shoulder. “I’m happy,” he confirms, kissing the spot behind your ear that always makes you shiver deliciously.

“And I definitely don’t have anything to complain about.” Rooster says, gesturing to his spot between your legs. You lightly tug on his hair and he laughs. “Yes, sweetheart, I’m happy too.” He reaches for your hand and presses a kiss to the back of it.

“So I was the only one overthinking things?”

“You sure were,” Hangman agrees, “You and that big brain of yours.” He trails open-mouth kisses up your neck. “Now have you straightened out your shit or are we going to have to do it for you?” he asks into the shell of your ear. You can feel the grin he’s wearing, and you’re positive if you turned to look at him you’d see those dimples of his.

“No promises,” you sing.

Because where’s the fun in that?

“There she is,” Bradley murmurs, honeyed and soft. A sigh escapes you when you feel his tongue along the inside of your thigh, even as your heart starts to race.

“That’s our girl.” Jake tips your head back, lips a whisper away from yours and desire reflected in his green eyes. “Here’s what’s going to happen. You’re going to kiss me until he makes you come. And then I’m going to fuck the attitude out of you while you apologize to Rooster for being so mouthy. We’re gonna remind you what it’s like to have two aviators wrapped around your little finger. Sound good?”

He doesn’t give you a chance to reply as he slips his tongue into your mouth at the same time Bradley licks into you. And you know this time you won’t have to beg for an orgasm, you’ll probably have to beg them to stop serving you them.

You feel yourself melt into them. The tension you’d been carrying since even before the bar fades with every one of their touches. Happy and content in knowing that they’re yours just as much as you are theirs.

And true to his word, you’re kissed through an orgasm. And another. And another.

That night, there are two mouths that never leave your body once.

Two sets of hands that are just as capable of keeping you grounded as they are giving you pleasure.

Two warm, strong bodies that give and take then hold you throughout the night.

Two men who- one day very soon - might possibly share your whole heart.

Many thanks to the person who sent me this ask! I had fun writing this one! Thank you for reading!

Many thanks to Jordan ( @gretagerwigsmuse ) as always!

If you want more of them, here is the fic that started it all!

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[hyunebunx]

💝 with jisung 🤭

˖˙ ᰋ ── 💝- 'a sudden kiss to catch the partner off guard'

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. genre: fluff

﹙ʚɞ˚﹚. a/n: manaa <33 i hope you enjoy this as much as i loved writing it <3 thank you sm for requesting!

It wasn’t a rare occurrence to drop by and find your boyfriend creating, brainstorming for another song while strumming his guitar or tapping a pen on the table to the rhythm created in his head. Inspiration struck at the oddest of times, not giving him a break no matter how spent or exhausted he was. And you had to understand – when the creative juices were flowing and he was in the zone, nothing and absolutely nobody mattered until he finished the song.

You find yourself in his room, sitting across from each other on the floor as you’re listening to your boyfriend go on and on about this new idea of his, strumming random chords on his guitar as he struggled to find a note he was satisfied with.

His fluffy brown hair bounces everywhere as he talks, glasses dropping a little too low on the bridge of his nose as he hasn’t raised his head from the instrument since you came in, half an hour ago.

“I’ve had this melody stuck in my head since yesterday but I can’t seem to get it out.” He hums, in hopes you might recognize it or help him somehow. He’s out of luck because truth be told, you stopped listening ten minutes ago.

You loved his creativity and passion but sometimes, like right now, you just needed his love and affection and Jisung has been too busy to notice.

“How about a snack?” You ask, standing up to which your joints thank you joyfully.

Jisung mumbles a quick ‘yes’, granting you his attention for a split second before he’s back to his guitar, hunched over in concentration.

The house is empty except for you two, with Jisung’s roommate, Minho, away on a family trip. You’d never thought you’d miss his loud and over the top laughter but now, when your boyfriend was barely paying you any attention, its absence pains you. You never realized how lively Minho kept things around here – you need to show your appreciation when he returns.

You linger longer than necessary in the kitchen, preparing snacks and drinks for the both of you before shuffling back to Jisung’s room, thankful the door was left ajar with how full your hands have gotten.

The moment you step inside, Jisung’s head snaps up with the most endearing smile stretched across his face, glasses a little bit crooked. “Baby! I got it! Hear me out, please!”

His happiness lights up the room in such a way that almost blinds you, his smile contagious and making it hard to resist the urge to smother him with your love. Jisung has never given you a warning, for if you got one, you might’ve prepared yourself better before falling head over heels in love with him. Though, you can never prepare for these things. Love sneaks up on you the moment it finds an opening, when your guard is down and the last thing you expect is being hit by cupid’s arrow, right in the heart.

Looking back, you don’t think you ever stood a chance. You were doomed from the start, when Han Jisung walked in the room you were in, a few years ago, laughing loudly with the previously mentioned roommate. Your heart has been his ever since, the sound reeling it in and never releasing it.

He’s babbling on, excited, as you set the plates down on his dresses, making your way towards him with a newfound purpose. When you lean down to get his attention, he tilts his head up with a dazzling smile, still talking and oh so unsuspecting of your next move.

Without warning, you peck his lips, causing the words to die on his tongue as he freezes, reflexively kissing back the second time your lips meet even if his brain hasn’t caught up yet.

“Sorry,” you whisper against his lips, his mouth agape in surprise as you stare right into his hazy eyes, “you looked too adorable, I couldn’t help myself.”

The loud sound of the guitar tumbling out of his grasp startles you, and you look down in concern while Jisung doesn’t even seem to notice, too enthralled to care. Your kisses always had that effect on him, and he’s sure they’ll continue to do so no matter how many years pass. You had him wrapped around your little finger after all, the victim of the spell your love cast on him the moment he set eyes on you.

“Ji?” You shake his shoulder lightly before crouching down to return his guitar. “The song, baby?”

“What song?” Is the first thing he manages to let out, clearing his throat as he finally comes to.

You giggle, and that’s all it takes Jisung to set the guitar aside and pull you to him by your waist, cushioning your fall as you collapse onto him before his lips are on yours again, kissing you passionately.

For a moment there, he forgot his own name. How was he supposed to remember whatever song he came up with when you used your evil powers to steal all of his attention? Though, he supposes you can’t steal something that’s always been rightfully yours…

[mindless-existence1]

Sub Gojo is a Virgin and you take his card

Summery: When you and Gojo start dating he's definitely acts all experienced, newsflash he's not. So when it comes to your first time he's a bit apprehensive. But eventually you get to rock his world.

REQUESTS OPEN PLS SEND! REQUESTS OPEN FOR FLUFF AND KINKTOBER AS WELL.

Authors note: This was run to write but took so long istg. This is a reader who has a dick but that's the only thing relating to gender or physical appearance. Enjoy!

For a while now your boyfriend Gojo has been acting....strange. He's always been cocky, calling himself "the honored one" and acting like he owns the world. Even when it comes to dating he seems to be the most experienced in the feild. He sure acts like it.

But a few weeks ago to were making out during movie night- a semi regular occurrence -and you thought 'finally a good time to get steamy with your mega super hot boyfriend which you love dearly'.

But when you attempted to take it further he immediately stopped you. Gojo's infinity went up, which it's never up around you, this caused your hand to be pushed away from him and you stopped having contact entirely. He seemed flush and almost embarrassed by the hand that was moving higher up his thigh.

Gojo quickly rushed out a mumbled excuse about wanting to watch the movie. It took him a minute to take down the infinity so the two of you could cuddle again. What was weird is that you could tell the boner he had was hurting, it was straining against the fabric of his pants as he failed to hide it.

But you didn't wish to push as to not make him uncomfortable. If Gojo didn't want to take the next step then you guys weren't going to take the next step. But it has been weeks since then and you've be together for a while and yet...nothing. What surprises you the most is how he's gone this long without sex.

Before you started dating he seemed to be with a new girl every night and now nothing. You know Gojo isn't cheating on you so how has he been able to hold himself back, and why?

That takes you to now, the two of you were cuddling on his bed just doing your own things on your phones. You couldn't pay attention to whatever you were looking at though. "Hey Satoru, can I ask a question?" You ask turning slightly so you were facing him.

"Well you just did but I'll let you ask another one." He chuckles as you roll your eyes. Gojo puts down his phone and props himself onto his elbow. Despite feeling self continous out of your mind you decide to ask your question straight up.

"Why haven't we had sex yet? Is it something I did or what?" You start to ramble slightly, suddenly everything comes pouring out. After a few second Gojo leans forward and catching you in a kiss the effectively shuts you up.

"You could have just asked nicely you know? Didn't think you were this desperate." He teases you again but this time his voice wavers and he seems unsure of himself, very un-Gojo like. "Well whenever I tried to start something you pushed away." Your basically pouting against his lips now.

"I- well um" Gojo stutters out some nonsense and turns his head away slightly in embarrassment. "I just thought maybe you didn't want to." Gojo's excuse is weak at best and he knows it. You notice his weird behavior but can tell something is going on.

"Well how about now, I want to. Do you?" Your questions makes him fumble but he nods his head. You put a hand on his cheek and lean in to kiss him, Gojo responds but can't match your pace.

When you move to sit on Gojo lap he outs his hands on your waist. After a minute of making out you slowly kiss his cheek and move down towards his neck. "Y-, Y/n wait." You keep kissing the same spot on his neck that you know makes him squirm.

Humming out a response you stop your attack on his neck so he can talk. "I- ummm I've never..... you know." Gojo makes a motion with his hands that almost makes you chuckle, but you feel this isn't a joking situation.

It does take you by surprise tho, what does he mean he hasn't done anything? The Statoru Gojo, the honored one, the one who brags about how much a ladies man he is, who has girls fawning over him day and night, is a virgin?  He must have taken your silence as a bad sign by the way he lightly pushed at your shoulders.

"I get it if you don't want to anymore." He rushes out, before he pushes you away you bite down onto his neck. Gojo whines and his arms go slack on your shoulders. "It's ok baby, that just means I get to take carre of you tonight."

He feels your hot breath on his skin and flinches slightly, "Yes- fuck please." Gojo's begging falters in embarrassment but makes your core twist. Your pants start to get tightens and you make a move to slip your hands under his shirt.

Before you can get underneath the fabric an invisible force pushes you away. Although his infinity isn't as big as normal it is still covering Gojo in a way that keeps you from touching him. It takes you by suprise but by the way he reacted he seems suprised to.

"Fuck- please I can't control it I'm sorry-" Gojo babbles out nonsense as the infinity wavers, cutting in and out. "Oh but Satoru I can't make you feel good if you keep this up." You purr near his ear. He chokes on a moan and rambles out more apologies.

"Common pretty boy, don't you want me to make you feel good?" The nickname causes him to falter which results in the infinity falling down as well. The second you know it's off you quickly lean in locking Gojo in a kiss.

He whines in it when he feels your hands rubbing up on his torso. Gojo's breathing gets shaky, he fumbles to taking his shirt off. You chuckle, "It's ok Satoru, just calm down. Let yourself enjoy it." He weakly nods his head.

Gojo's pale chest is flushed a deep red, with a swift moment you brush your hands over his perk nipples. He whimpers at the foreign feeling, "How do you want to do this baby?" You voice is smooth like honey, you're  kissing up and down his toned chest.

"I- I want you to" Gojo fumbles to get the words out, embarrassment evident in his words. "Common pretty boy just use your words." Your tone makes him grip the back of your shirt.

He mumbles something under his breath you cant hear. "Use. Your. Words." You voice is sterner than before and it makes Gojo gulp. "Fuck me," after a heavy breath "please."

His desperate voice makes your dick get harder. When you starts to pull at Gojo's pants he lifts his hips to help you. Under your breath you say 'there you go.' “Someones excited” You smile, tracing the bulge through his boxers. “All for me?” You tease into his ear, slowly moving your hands to palm him.

Gojo let's out a deep moan at the feeling. “Hurry up.” He whines, bucking his hips up into his hands. You pull at his boxers, bringing them down past his knees and let him kick them off.

You look down to where Gojo is trying to close his legs but can't with you between them. “So pretty but you gotta keep your legs open baby.” You tell him while puts hands on his knees and keeping them open.

"Sorry.” He whines at being so exposed and keeps his dead down cast. His hands are desperately holding onto you. One griping your shoulder, the other tangled in the hair at your neck.

Gojo vaguely registers the sound of a lube bottle opening but doesn't process it till he feels your slick hand on him. He gasps in suprise but it quickly turns into a wavering moan.

After a minute of prep you line yourself up to thrust into him. "I'll go slow, promise." He nods his head in understanding. You slowly slide in, careful to not hurt him.

"Fuck- so full." Gojo mumbles out more curses while leaning his head down onto your shoulder. He grips your shoulders when you fully thrust in. He arches his back at the feels and you can see the tears bubbling up in his closed eyes.

"Doing so good for me." He whimpers at the praise. You slowly start to thrust your hips faster as Gojo starts to to get used to the feeling. One hand grips his waist and the other starts to pump his length.

He can feel the pleasure bubbling inside him, his legs shake from where they are wrapped around your waist. Gojo can tell he looks pathetic but he can't bring himself to care when you are treating him so well.

Somehow you must know he's about to come from the way you smile and lean in to bite at his flushed neck. After another minute of pleasure he can tell you are getting close to and starts babbling incoherently.

"It's ok, promise. Just let go." He whimpers with a tight grip on your forarm. "Fuck, fuck, fuck I can't. S-so good." A high pitched whine tears through his throat. Your hips thrusts faster into him to match the pase of you hand on him.

The sheet beneath you gets pulled and crumpled from how hard Gojo is gripping it. For a split second you think it might tear, the worry is thrown out the window from how pretty he looks like this.

Tears run from his bright eyes and down his flushed face. There's a light coat of sweat that covers his torso and shaking legs. The moans pouring from his lips are sinful music to your ears. "Cumming- I'm, I'm cumming." He mumbled between gasps of air.

"Good boy just let it go. I've got you." With a final thrust of your hips and hand he comes with a choked off moan. Following suit after him you still your hips, just barley moving your hands to help him through the after shocks.

Your panting breath and Gojo's quiet whimpers are all that can't be heard in the room. You slowly set down the wobbly legs you were holding moments before.

When Gojo doesn't talk you start to worry, "Satoru? You ok?" He nods, moving a hand to his chest where just a minute earlier he came all over. "I feel gross though, aren't you supposed to give me princess treatment after this?"

Although his voice is horse and shaky you can hear the joke in it. You chuckle and shake your head. "Of course only the best treatment for you princess." You joke back giving him a kiss on the cheek with a smile.

[goblinontour]

Alone, Together

cooking, eating, fucking

part 1

warnings: lawyer!alex, smut, just normal fucking, alex & his cocobolo (less this time, but still present)

word count: 7.2k

It was a rare occurrence that Alex was cooking. You perched on one of the bar stools at his island, watching him with an amused smile. The kitchen was immaculate, each appliance gleaming as if it had never seen anything but coffee and reheated takeout. Because, that was the reality. Today, though, there was something simmering in a pot that had your curiosity piqued.

“Is this a special occasion?” you called out, leaning back casually, arms crossed.

He glanced over his shoulder, a smirk playing on his lips. “Nope…Maybe. Just thought I’d waste some time like a normal person.” he said, stirring the sauce with exaggerated motions. “Though honestly, I still think it’s a dumb idea.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You still think cooking is just a fancy way to waste time?”

He turned back to the pot, his shoulders relaxing as he stirred. “Exactly. Why spend an hour cooking just to spend another hour eating? I’d rather order in and only waste half of that time.”

“Right. You know, Alex, then you’re wasting someone else’s time cooking for you.” you pointed out. 

He chuckled, a warm sound that echoed in the space, and turned to you, eyebrow raised, as he set the spoon down momentarily. “But they’re getting paid for it, so it’s not wasting time. Simple economics, babe.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help but smile. “Only you would make that argument.”

He leaned back against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. “And only you would let me win it.”

“Or it just means you’re being lazy.” you countered, tilting your head playfully.

“Lazy? I like to call it efficiency. Lazy or efficient, you decide.” He shot you a grin before returning to the pot, his brow furrowing in concentration. “Speaking of efficiency, how’s the case with, uh, Henderson was it? How’s that going? Any breakthroughs?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “Not as much as I’d like. He’s being uncooperative, as usual. I swear he enjoys dragging things out just to test my patience.”

Alex nodded. “Sounds about right. You should hit him with a motion. It might scare him into cooperating.”

“Yeah, maybe.” you replied, leaning forward. “But I don’t want to show all my cards too soon. Plus, I might need to save that for when he really pisses me off.”

He laughed, the sound warm and rich. “Just don’t let him get under your skin. You know how I feel about letting clients dictate the pace.”

“Right, right.” you said, smirking. “I remember that time you told a client they were being ‘insufferable’ during a meeting.”

He feigned innocence. “I was merely being honest! He needed to hear it.”

You shook your head, still smiling. “Honesty doesn’t always get you a good outcome.”

“Maybe not, but it does feel fucking good in the moment.” he winked, his eyes sparkling. 

As he continued, you felt a sudden impulse to be closer. You stood up and moved behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist. He paused mid-stir, humming softly at your touch, leaning back slightly against you.

“Hey there.” he murmured, a hint of surprise in his voice. He left the whisk in the pot, placing his hands on top of yours, rubbing over your knuckles with a gentle rhythm. “What’s going on?”

“Just wanted to be close to you while you do…whatever this is.” you said, resting your chin on his shoulder, feeling the warmth radiating from his body. 

He chuckled softly, glancing back at the sauce, steam curling up to meet his face. “It’s my attempt at culinary greatness. You know, a chef in the making.”

You snorted. “Sure, let’s go with that. I’ve seen you master a coffee maker, but cooking is a whole different level.”

He turned slightly, meeting your gaze with a teasing smile. “You underestimate my skills. I could be the next Iron Chef, is that what it’s called? Or, at the very least, I won’t set off the smoke alarm.”

You wrapped your arms a little tighter around him. “I have faith in you, sort of. What’s the secret ingredient, Chef?”

Alex glanced over his shoulder, a playful smirk on his face, his dark hair slightly tousled. “If I told you, I’d have to kill you, eh?” he quipped. “But it’s mostly just me hoping this doesn’t end up in the trash.” His expression turned slightly more serious as he leaned into your embrace. “So, are you gonna tell me what you wanted to share? Because I’m really hoping it’s what I think it is.”

You hesitated for a moment, feeling the weight of your news settle in your stomach. “After dinner. I promise it’ll be worth the wait.”

He sighed dramatically, though the twinkle in his eyes didn’t fade. “Fine, but you’re making me curious. It’s not like you to keep secrets.”

“Just focus on your culinary masterpiece.” you teased, pressing a quick kiss to his shoulder before stepping back to let him work.

He turned back to the pot, a contented smile still on his lips as he continued stirring. “I can do that. But you know I’ll be expecting the details afterward.”

“Deal.” you said, settling back into your stool, anticipation bubbling beneath the surface as you watched him move about the kitchen, an unexpected domesticity woven into his actions. 

Dinner was over. Alex had just set his fork down with a soft clink against the plate. He wiped his chin and mouth with his hand, trying to catch the little specks of sauce that clung to the stubble along his jaw. The sauce had smudged slightly, and the way his lips quirked up made it clear he didn’t care about perfection. Just getting the job done.

You were still finishing the last bite of his extremely mediocre spaghetti. Spaghetti you appreciated nonetheless, more for the effort than the execution. He wasn’t even pretending to wait for you to finish. His eyes were already on you, full of expectation, his fingers drumming lightly on the table.

You sighed, glancing up at him. “What?”

“Tell me.” he said, his voice soft but eager, as if he’d been holding back for the past half-hour and was finally letting it spill out.

You raised an eyebrow, shaking your head with a half-smile. “My god, Turner, you’re like a child.”

“Come onnn.” he groaned, leaning forward a bit, his elbows resting on the edge of the table. “Please, tell me, tell me, tell me-”

“Okay! Okay, I’ll tell you.” you interrupted, laughing as you set your fork down in the almost-empty plate, still dotted with remnants of sauce. “Impatient as ever, I see.”

He grinned sheepishly, leaning back again in his chair, fingers still fidgeting with the edge of his napkin. His foot tapped lightly under the table, like he could barely contain himself.

“So,” you started, taking a breath, “about the firm-”

“Our firm?” he cut you off instantly, eyes bright with excitement.

“Yeah, our firm…” You paused for a moment, letting the words settle in the air between you. He was watching you so closely now, his brows furrowing just a little as if trying to anticipate what you were going to say next. 

You exhaled slowly, trying to find the right way to put it. “So, I was thinking…what if it wasn’t ‘us’ but…‘you’ and ‘me’?”

His smile faltered for just a second, and he blinked, processing. “Go on.” he said, though there was a slight tightness in his voice, like he wasn’t sure where you were going.

“We find an office together.” you continued, choosing your words carefully, watching the way his fingers stilled on the napkin, his eyes fixed on yours. “We share rent, expenses, everything. But…I am me, attorney at law, and you are you, Alex Turner, attorney at law. Both free to practise as we see fit.”

His mouth twitched at the corners as he leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the table, narrowing his eyes just a little, like he was trying to see the full picture. “Separate firms…under one roof?” he said slowly, tilting his head, brow furrowed.

“Yeah.” you nodded, gaining a bit of momentum. “Why not share a ride? You do things your way, and I do them mine. Not partners, exactly…”

“Solo practitioners…together.” he completed, his voice quiet, almost like he was speaking the idea into existence. He sat back again, running his fingers through his hair, ruffling it more. His lips parted, and for a moment he didn’t say anything, just stared at you with a half-lost expression, as if trying to see all the angles of this new idea you were offering him.

You bit your lip, waiting, your heart hammering just a little. “What do you think?” you asked softly, not sure how he would take it.

He stared at the table for a moment, his fingers drumming lightly again, then he exhaled a long breath. “I, uh-” He paused, looking up at you with a bit of that boyish uncertainty you didn’t see often. “I mean…yeah, I think it could work. I really do. But…” He trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.

“But?” you echoed, feeling a knot tighten in your stomach.

“I guess I always pictured us doing it together. Like, actually together, as partners. Officially. You know, Turner &…” He waved his hand in the air, as if searching for the name that belonged next to his. “I like the idea of having you with me.”

His eyes softened, that vulnerability creeping back in as he let his hand drop to his lap. He shifted slightly in his seat, his leg bouncing under the table in a nervous rhythm. 

“Look…” you said, leaning in, trying to ease the weight you could see settling in his features. “It’s not that I don’t want to be with you. I do. But I also want to be…me, you know? You run things your way, and I need to run things mine. No compromises. It doesn’t mean I don’t want us to be-” You stumbled, feeling the weight of what you were saying. “I mean, this way, we still have each other. We still share everything.”

He nodded slowly, his gaze dropping for a second before finding yours again, that intensity returning. “Yeah, no, I get it. Really, I do. You just want-” He scratched his jaw, “You just want your space to work how you need to work. And we’d still be in the same place, so…yeah.”

You exhaled, relieved to see him processing, though the uncertainty still hung between you. “Exactly. We’d still be together. Just…independent too.”

He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head. “Leave it to you to make independence sound romantic.”

You smiled, the tension starting to ease from your shoulders. “Well, it kind of is, isn’t it?”

He raised his eyebrows, looking at you with a glimmer of amusement. “Okay, fine. I see the appeal. Solo practitioners together.” His eyes flickered to yours again, more sure this time. “I can live with that.”

You smiled, letting out a breath you hadn’t realised you were holding. “Good. Because I really think this could work for us.”

He pushed his chair back slightly, standing up and moving around the table toward you. As he approached, he bent down, his hand resting on the back of your chair as he brought his face closer to yours. “You know what? I think we’re gonna be just fine.” He kissed you lightly, his lips still tasting faintly of the spaghetti sauce, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“An A for effort for the meal by the way.” you teased, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes.

He grinned, his eyes warm and soft now, all traces of tension gone. “Next time, we order in.” He tilted his head, a slow grin spreading across his face, the flicker of excitement behind his eyes growing brighter. “Solo…together.” he repeated, testing the phrase out on his tongue like it was something new he hadn’t tasted before.

He took a step closer to you, his hands still on the back of your chair, but his voice was gaining momentum. “Solo together…That’s actually…perfect.” His eyes locked onto yours, lighting up with an energy you could feel sparking through the air between you.

You could practically see the wheels turning in his head, the idea catching fire. “No one stepping on anyone’s toes…” he continued, his voice rising in enthusiasm. 

You opened your mouth to say something, but before you could get a word out, he grabbed your hand, pulling you up from the chair with surprising strength. “This is it!” He was grinning now, practically glowing, his excitement infectious as he tugged you toward him.

Before you knew it, you were up against him, your hands pressed against his chest. He didn’t stop there, though. In one swift movement, he lifted you up, his hands firm around your waist as he effortlessly placed you on the table. The cold surface under your thighs was a sharp contrast to the warmth radiating off him.

“Alex-” you started, a laugh escaping your lips, but he was already kissing you. His mouth crashed against yours, hungry, eager. You barely had time to process the intensity before he pulled back just enough to whisper against your lips.

“Solo…together.” he murmured between kisses, his hands now cupping your face as he pressed closer. “I love it.”

His breath was hot against your skin, each word punctuated by another kiss. You could feel the warmth of his stubble brushing your cheek as he moved from your lips to the side of your neck, his voice a low, breathless murmur. “We’d be our own bosses…No one telling us what to do…”

You gasped softly as his hands slid down your back, gripping you tighter, pulling you even closer to the edge of the table. Your fingers tangled in his hair, holding him close as his mouth found yours again.

“And-” another kiss, deeper this time, his hands roaming, the intensity between you building with every second, “we’d still get to come home to each other…Every single day.”

He pulled back just long enough to look into your eyes, his pupils dark, his face inches from yours, breathing hard. “Fuck, this is such a good idea.” His voice was rough, unrestrained. “No compromises, no pressure…but still together.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, a breathless sound caught between the rapid beats of your heart. “I’m glad you like it.” you managed to get out, your voice shaky but full of warmth.

“Like it? I fucking love it.” he growled, his mouth finding yours again, more desperate now. His hands moved to your hips, gripping you firmly as he kissed you harder, his breath hot and ragged. 

You could feel the excitement vibrating through him, the way his body pressed against yours, each kiss deepening with the weight of his growing anticipation. “Solo practitioners…but always together.” he murmured against your lips, his voice filled with something close to awe, like he couldn’t believe how perfectly the idea fit.

The table creaked beneath you as he leaned into you, his hands sliding under the hem of your shirt, fingers splayed against the small of your back. His kiss was urgent, full of need, like he couldn’t get enough of the idea, of you, of everything that was spilling out between you.

“We’re going to be unstoppable.” he whispered, his voice a low, husky rasp. “You…and me.”

Your head was spinning, your fingers digging into his shoulders, holding on as his kisses grew more fervent, more insistent. His hands roamed over your body, pulling you against him like he wanted to fuse you together. Every word he spoke between kisses buzzed with that same electric energy, his excitement fueling yours.

“We’re going to be so fucking good at this.” he said breathlessly, pulling back just enough to stare into your eyes. His gaze was intense, almost overwhelming in its rawness. “Just you and me…killing it, every single day.”

And before you could respond, his mouth was on yours again, his body pressed against you, leaving no space between you as his hands gripped your waist, lifting you slightly as if he was trying to get you closer, as if you weren’t already as close as you could be. 

Alex’s excitement grew like wildfire, his hands moving with purpose as he reached for the plates still scattered on the table. With a quick sweep, he pushed them to the side, the sound of ceramic sliding across the wood sharp in the air. You barely had time to react before he gently but firmly guided you down, your back hitting the surface of the table. His body hovered above you, his face inches from yours, eyes dark with hunger.

You felt the heat of him pressing against you, his hips grinding into your thigh, the hard outline of him unmistakable even through his clothes. His breath was ragged, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of your neck as he groaned softly into you.

“You’re eager.” you managed to say. 

“You bet.” he whispered, a smile curling at the edge of his lips as he pressed his mouth to your neck, kissing his way down your body, even through the fabric of your shirt. His lips left a trail of heat as they moved lower. 

His hands slid over your hips, gripping you with a mix of tenderness and desperation, fingers brushing just under your shirt as he kissed his way further down your torso. His stubble grazed your skin as he paused at the hem of your jeans, his breath warm and steady against your stomach.

“Fuck- I wanna fuck you here.” he murmured, his voice thick with need. He pressed his face into your belly for a second, inhaling. “Can I fuck you here?” he asked, his voice low, rough, a plea that sounded more like a demand in its urgency. 

The question hung between you, his hands stilling on your waist, his thumbs tracing small circles against your skin as he waited for your answer, his eyes locked onto yours. His breath came in shallow, uneven bursts, his body tensed above you, ready to close the space between you in a heartbeat.

You swallowed, your breath catching in your throat as his gaze never wavered. “Yes.” you whispered, the word slipping out before you could second-guess it. 

His lips twitched into a grin, but it was hungry, almost feral. “God, you have no idea how much I’ve been thinking about this.” he growled, kissing your stomach again, teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. His hands were already moving, deftly undoing the button of your jeans, tugging them down your hips with a quickness that made your breath hitch.

As your jeans hit the floor, he kissed lower, over the curve of your hip, his hands kneading the flesh there before he pressed himself harder against your leg. You could feel him, all of him. 

He hovered over you again, eyes locked on yours as he nudged your legs apart with his knee. The friction between your bodies was maddening, and you could feel his impatience in every twitch of his muscles, every shallow breath. “I’ve wanted you like this, right here, all night. Now I'm just waiting until I’ll get you on my desk…in our office.” he whispered against your ear, his voice a low, hoarse rasp as he kissed along your jaw, his body pressed into yours so firmly you could barely breathe.

You couldn’t help but smirk. “Your cocobolo?” you asked, the absurdity of him obsessing over his desk even now making you bite your lip.

He lifted his head just enough to meet your eyes, his expression full of dark amusement, a cocky grin spreading across his flushed face. “That’s right.” he murmured, his voice a low, sultry growl as he leaned closer, his mouth brushing yours with every word. “Fucking on my fucking cocobolo.”

The way he said it made you laugh softly, but before the sound could fully escape, he giggled, too, vibrating against your lips. It was that kind of infectious, unguarded laugh that made your chest warm, the kind of laugh that only Alex could pull off mid-seduction, somehow. 

His hands roamed over your body, tugging your shirt higher, fingers brushing your skin, sending sparks wherever he touched. He pulled back, just for a moment, his eyes flicking down your body, taking in every inch of you laid out beneath him. “Look at you…” he muttered, almost to himself, his voice low and reverent. “Fuck, you’re perfect.”

Without waiting, he kissed you again, deeper this time, his teeth grazing your bottom lip as he tugged it gently, making you gasp. His fingers slid down your sides, hooking under your underwear, dragging them down as he pushed you further back on the table, the edge digging into your back but you barely noticed, too focused on the way he was looking at you. 

His hands were on your thighs, spreading them further open, his mouth back on your neck, murmuring into your skin. “I need to feel you.” he whispered, his breath hot and ragged against your ear as he rubbed himself against you, his erection pressing hard into your thigh through his pants. “I need to be inside you…right now.”

His desperation was palpable, but there was something tender in the way his hands gripped you, in the way he kissed your collarbone. Alex’s breath came out in sharp, ragged gasps as his hands fumbled with his zipper, the sound of it cutting through the heavy tension between you. His eyes never left yours, as he freed himself, his cock hard and straining in his hand. There was no hesitation, no teasing now. Just pure urgency.

He pushed your legs further apart, the rough edge of the table biting into your skin as he positioned himself between your thighs. And then, he was inside you. The force of it knocked the air from your lungs, his cock filling you completely, stretching you in a way that sent a jolt of pleasure-pain through you. You gasped, hands flying to grip the edge of the table as it wobbled beneath you, creaking under the weight of his movements.

He didn’t hold back. His hips snapped forward, driving himself deeper into you, fast and rough, his breath coming out in sharp, uneven pants. The table shook beneath you with every thrust, the sound of it scraping against the floor barely audible over the wet sounds of your bodies colliding, over the ragged groans that escaped him every time he buried himself inside you.

“Fuck-” he groaned through clenched teeth, his hands gripping your hips so tightly you could feel the bruises forming. His pace was relentless, his cock slamming into you over and over. “You always feel so good…so fucking tight.”

You couldn’t form words, couldn’t do anything but hold on as he pounded into you. His eyes were wild, locked on yours as he watched your every reaction, his mouth falling open in a breathless groan each time you clenched around him.

The table rocked beneath you, on and on, the legs threatening to give way, but neither of you cared. It only spurred him on, made him thrust harder, deeper, his hips grinding into you with a roughness that bordered on desperate.

His hands roamed over your body, one sliding up to grip the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him as his mouth crashed against yours in a brutal, hungry kiss. His tongue was hot and demanding, his teeth scraping your lips as he kissed you like he was trying to consume you entirely.

The pace was maddening, his hips never faltering, each thrust hitting deeper, harder, making your body tremble beneath him. 

“Alex-” you managed to gasp out, your voice barely more than a breath, but he cut you off with another hard thrust, a groan escaping him as he felt you tighten around him.

“I know-” he breathed against your ear, his voice rough, barely holding back. “I know, baby…I’m close too.” His movements became more frantic, more desperate, his body trembling as he drove into you, pushing you both closer to the brink.

Any control he might’ve had moments ago slipped. His hands were everywhere. Gripping your thighs, pressing into your hips, sliding up your sides. He needed to feel every part of you, to hold you closer. 

“Fuck.” he groaned, his voice a low rasp as he buried himself deep inside you again, harder and faster. He was losing it, his rhythm faltering as he got lost in the sensation, in the heat of you around him.

Your legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, feeling the way his cock stretched you with every ragged, unsteady thrust. His face was buried in the crook of your neck, lips brushing your skin as he cursed under his breath. 

You could feel him trembling, his body straining as he teetered on the edge, each thrust messier than the last. His mouth found yours again, a desperate, sloppy kiss that was all tongue and teeth. The heat between you was unbearable now, overwhelming. 

“Fuck, baby...I’m gonna come.” he groaned, his voice breaking as he thrust into you hard, hips slamming into yours with a final, urgent rhythm. His body tensed above you, his breath catching in his throat as he lost himself in the overwhelming sensation. His body shook with the force of it, his hands gripping your waist tightly as he spilled into you, warmth flooding between your legs as he gasped against your skin.

For a moment, it was just him, messy, overwhelmed, trembling above you as he rode out the waves of his orgasm, his cock still pulsing inside you. His breath came in heavy, ragged bursts, his forehead resting against yours as he slowly came down, his body pressed against yours in the most intimate way. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart against your chest as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips. 

“That…” he whispered, barely able to form the word as he nuzzled his face into your neck. “That was…Jesus, that was…” He trailed off, too overwhelmed to finish the thought, his body still draped over yours, warm and heavy, but instead of slowing down, he rolled his hips again, a slow, deliberate thrust that made you gasp. He didn’t stop.

You could feel him still hard inside you, the slick heat of him moving against your sensitive walls as he resumed his rhythm, slower at first, but with that same intensity building all over again. 

“You didn’t come yet.” he whispered. His lips grazed your ear as he spoke, his hips bucking into you again. “I’m not stopping until you do.”

You moaned softly in response as he picked up the pace, his thrusts becoming more insistent. The table beneath you creaked again, the wood groaning under the pressure of his movements, but all you could focus on was him, the way he felt inside you, the steady, relentless rhythm of his hips, pushing you closer to that edge.

His fingers slid up your sides, brushing under your shirt to find the bare skin of your waist, gripping tightly as his mouth found yours again. 

“I love you.” he groaned into your mouth, his voice hoarse as he pushed deeper, the sound of his cock sliding in and out of you loud and wet in the small space between your bodies. “So much.”

Your hands flew to his hair, nails digging into his scalp as your body arched against his, a moan spilling from your lips as you felt the tension coil tighter inside you.

Alex was laser-focused on you, his cock pounding into you harder with each passing second. “Come on, baby.” he whispered, his lips brushing your ear as he thrust deep, grinding into you just right. “Let go. I want to feel you come…Please.”

That was all it took. The pleasure that had been building finally snapped, your body tensing beneath him as the orgasm ripped through you. Your muscles clenched tight around him, a cry breaking from your throat. 

Alex groaned at the feeling of you tightening around him, his grip on your hips tightening as he slowed his thrusts, riding out the aftershocks of your orgasm. “There you go…” he breathed and he kissed you softly. “That’s my girl.” he murmured against your lips. 

He stayed there, buried deep inside you, still hard, his hips barely moving in slow, lazy circles. He groaned softly, but you could sense something building again, the tension in his body still present, still tight. His fingers dug into your hips just a little harder, his breath hitching, and without warning, his hips jerked forward, instinct taking over as he thrust deep again, making you gasp.

“Shit-” he muttered, his voice shaky, almost surprised. He didn’t stop, couldn’t stop, his body reacting on its own, still desperate for more. You could feel it too, the way his cock twitched inside you, his muscles tightening, and you knew he was close again. 

“Oh- oh god…” he gasped, his voice catching as he thrust into you hard, the pleasure building too fast, overwhelming him. He pressed his forehead against your shoulder. His entire body tensed, a ragged groan tearing from his throat as he came again, barely able to process it, barely able to hold back. His release hit him fast and hard, his cock pulsing inside you as he spilled into you once more. 

“Oh-” he groaned, his voice breaking as his hips bucked one last time, his body shaking as the second wave of pleasure crashed through him, leaving him breathless and overwhelmed. 

He stayed like that for a moment, completely still at last, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath, his cock still twitching inside you as the last of his release emptied into you. His fingers were trembling, his muscles slack as the intensity of it all finally hit him.

“Fuck...I didn’t-” he started, his voice cracking before he could finish the thought. His chest was still heaving as he looked at you, the dazed, wide-eyed look on his face betraying just how overwhelmed he was. Slowly, a lazy grin began to spread across his lips, like he was finally processing everything. “I didn’t think I’d...come like that again.” he muttered, shaking his head slightly. “You…you’ve got me all kinds of messed up.”

You couldn’t help but smile back, your own breathing still unsteady. “Oh yeah?” you teased, your voice still breathless but playful, a little proud even. “Didn’t think you had another one in you?”

His grin turned more wicked and he opened his mouth to say something more, but before he could, you clenched around him reflexively, your body still sensitive. The reaction shot through him like electricity. He tensed, his whole body going rigid, and a groan slipped from his throat as he closed his eyes and his hands clutched the edge of the table, unable to take any more.

“Shit- don’t…I can’t.” he gasped, his voice trembling. “I can’t take any more.” He pulled out quickly, wincing as he did, his legs unsteady. “Not again...you’ll break me…I’ll die.”

You chuckled softly, a shiver running through you at the sudden loss of him, but the sight of him stumbling back from the table, almost collapsing, was too good. He looked utterly spent, but there was something ridiculously cute about it.

“Not so cocky now, huh?” you teased, smirking as you shifted on the table, watching him try to steady himself.

Alex shot you a half-hearted glare, though his smile was still there. “You keep doing that, and you’ll have to carry me out of this room.” he muttered as he staggered toward the nearest chair. He grabbed it, dragging it over with a dramatic sigh and practically collapsing into it with a groan. “I swear, I was two seconds away from my knees giving out.”

You laughed, still lying on the table, legs trembling slightly as the last waves of pleasure still lingered. “My poor, poor man.” you teased, throwing him a mock pout. “The table wasn’t so bad though, was it?”

Alex leaned back in the chair, still catching his breath, and gave you a lazy grin. “Oh, no complaints.” he said. “I mean, it was touch-and-go there for a second, but I think the table and I made it through.”

You rolled your eyes, letting your head fall back against the table, and let out a sigh of contentment. “Good to know I wasn’t the only one doing all the work.”

He shot you a playful look. “Oh, come on, give me some credit. I’d say I held my own pretty well. My knees would disagree, but they’re quitters.”

“You’re the one who wanted to fuck here.”

“Fair point.” he replied. As he sat, his hands absentmindedly reached down to tuck himself back into his pants, his fingers moving with a casual ease despite how shaky he still was. Once he’d zipped up his pants, he groaned, shifting in the chair as though trying to get comfortable.

Without a word, he reached for the buttons on his shirt, popping each one open slowly, his chest still rising and falling with every deep breath. He shrugged the shirt off his shoulders and pulled it to the sides, letting the cool air hit his skin as he leaned back. 

“Much better.” he muttered to himself, his head rolling to the side to glance at you. His chest glistened slightly with sweat, his skin flushed, and his breathing was still a bit unsteady as he sat there, letting the shirt hang loose on his arms like he’d given up entirely on any formality. 

“Cooling off?” you teased. 

He chuckled, eyes half-lidded. “Trying to. You’re too damn good at making things…hot. God…I’m wrecked.” he muttered, half to himself.

You snorted, your whole body feeling warm from the banter. “Next time, maybe pick a less risky location, Mr. Turner.”

He laughed, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees, and shaking his head. “No way. The danger’s part of the fun.”

You laid there for a moment, staring up at the ceiling. “You know,” you said, voice still a little hoarse, “You’re dripping from me all over your floor now.”

Alex looked at you, dazed but amused, his eyebrows raising slightly as if the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. “That’s fine.” he replied, waving his hand dismissively as if it was the least of his worries. “The floor’s seen worse.”

“Worse than this?” you asked, raising an eyebrow, trying not to laugh.

“Oh definitely…absolutely.” he replied, sitting up slightly as he looked at you with mock seriousness. “I’ve dropped coffee, spilled stuff...once I even dropped a whole sandwich, oh- and, you won’t believe this one, one time I kicked over a glass of wine trying to catch a football. You’re just adding to the legacy.”

“Okay.” You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all. “Glad to know I’m in such good company.” you said with a chuckle, too exhausted to argue, and shifted slightly, your body still feeling heavy from everything. 

The mess of the moment didn’t seem to matter as much as the calm after the storm, both of you still caught in that lingering post-high. 

“You know, as much as I’d love to keep chatting about your floor’s sordid history I-”

“I need a shower.” he interrupted, his voice rough, like it took every bit of energy to speak, as if even just that required effort.

“Yeah, that. Me too.” you echoed softly, still not moving from the table, your limbs too relaxed to even think about standing yet. You both stayed like that for a few more seconds. “Come on, get up.” you said, finally mustering the energy to sit up on the table, your legs still feeling shaky. “If you’re going to shower, you need to move.”

Alex was glued to you like a second skin. His damp hair, still slightly mussed, was pressed against your shoulder as he half-draped himself over you. He wrapped one arm around your waist, fingers absently tracing the curve of your hip as he nestled his face into the crook of your neck, so close you could feel the soft puffs of his breath. 

“Tired?” you asked, running your fingers lazily through his hair.

He let out a low hum, not bothering to lift his head. “Maybe, a bit.” he mumbled into your neck. “I just like you like this.”

“Like what? Barely able to move under the weight of your body?” you joked, but the affection in your voice softened the words.

“Exactly.” he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke. “Just want to be close to you...Is that a crime, counsellor?”

You smirked, shaking your head. “Not yet. But you’re on thin ice.”

Alex chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your shoulder. “Noted. Guess I’ll have to be careful. Wouldn’t want to be thrown out of bed for being too affectionate.”

“Who said anything about throwing you out?” you teased, shifting slightly but not making any real effort to dislodge him. “I’m too comfortable to move.”

“Good.” he sighed, his body relaxing even more into yours. “I’m not going anywhere anyway. You’re stuck with me like this now.”

“I can deal with that. It’s kinda nice, actually.”

“Nice?” he muttered, half asleep but still stubborn enough to keep the conversation going. “Just nice?”

“Alright, fine.” you admitted with a smile. “More than nice. But don’t let it go to your head.”

He grinned lazily against your neck. “Too late.”

For a moment, the two of you just lay there, his body practically draped over yours. It was peaceful, the kind of quiet that didn’t need to be filled, but Alex, in true form, couldn’t resist.

“Did you know,” he began, his voice low and thoughtful, “that penguins propose by giving their mate a pebble?”

You snorted, caught off guard. “What? Are you serious?”

“Dead serious.” he replied, lifting his head slightly to look at you with an exaggeratedly solemn expression. “They find the perfect pebble, you know? And they give it to the penguin they want to mate with. It’s very romantic.”

You laughed softly. “Why do you know this?”

He shrugged, settling his head back down on your shoulder. “I don’t know, I think I saw it on some nature documentary. Thought it was cute.”

“So what, are you planning on proposing to me with a rock you find on the sidewalk?” you teased, running your hand absently through his hair again.

Alex chuckled, his breath warm against your skin. “Maybe. If I find a really good one, you never know.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “I think I’d prefer something a little more...you know, traditional.”

“It's sorted then.” he said, his voice low and sleepy again. “No sidewalk rocks. I’ll keep that in mind.”

There was a beat of comfortable silence again, the two of you just enjoying the feeling of being close, the steady rise and fall of his chest pressed against yours. His fingers resumed their lazy tracing over your hip. You felt that familiar warmth flood through you, feeling his quiet need for affection, and you turned your head slightly, pressing a kiss to the top of his still-damp hair. “I love you too, you know.” you murmured softly. 

Alex hummed, pressing his face even closer to your neck, like he was trying to burrow into you. “I know…” he mumbled, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you.”

You paused, frowning a little as you tilted your head to glance down at him. “Thank you?” you repeated, your brow furrowing in confusion. “Why are you thanking me for that?”

He shifted a bit but didn’t move far, his face still pressed against you. “Hmm?” he murmured, clearly not understanding your question at first.

Even though he couldn’t see it, you smiled, brushing a few strands of hair away from his forehead. “Why are you thanking me for loving you?” you asked again. “That’s not exactly something you need to say ‘thanks’ for.”

He was quiet for a moment, and you could feel him thinking, his fingers pausing their gentle movements on your skin as if he was trying to find the right words or come up with a good reason. But then he sighed, his breath warm against your skin, and you could almost feel the smile on his lips.

 “I don’t know.” he admitted quietly. “I just…yeah, I don’t know.”

You let out a quiet laugh, not mocking, just amused by how endearing he was when he got like this. “You don’t have to thank me, Alex. I love you because I do. It’s not a favour.”

He finally lifted his head slightly, just enough so that he could glance up at you with those sleepy, half-lidded eyes of his. There was something so soft about the way he looked at you right then. “I know.” he said softly, his voice a little raw. “But still…thank you.”

You gave him a look. “You’re ridiculous.” you whispered, reaching up to brush your thumb along his cheek. “But I love you, ridiculous and all.”

He smiled, that boyish grin that always managed to make your heart skip creeping across his face. “I’m just…I don’t know. Grateful, I guess.” he murmured, fingers resuming their soft tracing along your hip. “You put up with all of my bullshit. I get clingy, I say weird stuff, and you’re still here.”

You rolled your eyes but your heart was melting a little. “I’m here because I love you, not in spite of all that. Those are the things I like about you.” you said, your tone soft but teasing. “Even the weird penguin trivia.”

“Even that?” he asked, lifting his head more to look at you with a playful glint in his eyes.

You nodded, grinning. “Especially that.”

His smile widened, and he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “I’m really lucky, you know,” he whispered, his forehead resting against yours, “To have you.”

“You’re getting too sappy on me, Turner.” though there was no denying the warmth in your chest. “But...yeah. I’m lucky too.”

He laughed softly, pressing another kiss to your temple before settling back down, his head resting on your shoulder again. “Okay, okay. No more sap. Just...let me be like this for a while.” he muttered, his body curling back into yours. 

“Stay as long as you want.” you whispered, your fingers trailing up and down his back in slow, soothing motions.

“You’re so stuck with me.” he mumbled, already half-asleep again, his breath evening out against your skin. 

“Yeah, you’re basically a human blanket right now.”

“Mmm, sounds about right.” he muttered, his voice fading into a drowsy murmur. He snuggled closer, if that was even possible. “I could stay like this forever…just you and me.”

“Me too.” you whispered. “Now sleep, Turner. I’m not going anywhere.”

a/n: i love him. (yet another version of alex i made up and became obsessed with)

tags: @st7rnioioss @theonlyoneswhoknowsblog @rentsturner @yourstartreatment @avxoxo1 @jqsvi @turnersfav @youresodarkbabe @psychedelicrocker @aacheinthejaw @zayndrider @humbuginmybones @tedioepica

[fleshengine]

What happened to your friend does sound awful, but it doesn't sound like something that's actually unique to trans women. Someone making false claims after a bad breakup and people believing claims of victimization are fairly normal occurrences across the board, especially since people do generally believe it's praxis to believe all victims immediately. The fact that your friends came around in a matter of days is a better than average result.

Hi Velvet, I think this is the second or third time you've come on to one of my posts where I talked about transmisogyny and tagged it as such. Those posts don't get a ton of traction, do you just like... patrol the transmisogyny tag or something?

Anyway I do not feel a need to clarrify myself to you. But I will add that there were a lot of details that I didn't add to the post, stuff I will not be discussing, that solidifies my belief that it was an example of transmisogyny. I'm not at liberty to talk about some of it, and for the rest I honestly just do not care enough to defend myself to you. I lived my life and you read a rant about it.

That aside, do you know how many transfems I know who have been made out to be rapists/mentally ill after they broke up with their partners? Do you want me to list all the normal occurences across the board that have made me personally terrified to show others intimacy? Why is it that when someone says "that trans girl is a rapist!" people believe her but when trans girls say "we keep getting called rapists, this sucks" we get people like you telling us that it's normal to be made out into a charicature and systematically cut off from your entire social group?

Now that I've got that out of the way, let's dig into your word choice.

"What happened to your friend" this voice is so passive it's going 45 in a 50. "What that guy did to your friend" is much more direct and active, that's a sentence fragment that drinks orange juice with its breakfast. I probably would've accepted "what was done to your friend" because even though it's passive it still emphasizes that someone did something wrong. But you didn't even do that. Instead you completely removed the idea of fault from the equation, no one did it, nothing caused it, it was divine intervention that my friend nearly lost their entire support network.

"does sound awful" it doesn't sound like anything. It is awful, through and through. I hate the man that did it even though my friend has forgiven him.

"better than average result" average what? Messy breakup or transfem targetting rumor mill? It was a better than average result, I can attest to the average and it's not good. I'm glad I was there to sway people back to reality.

Moving on, you only addressed one of the two things I mentioned. I said "break up with a trans woman and unperson her" and "unperson any trans woman who's minorly annoying." You completely skipped the whole "a guy tried to tell people I was a gaslighter because I asked him to stop calling my friend a sociopath" bit. The post wasn't even saying that what happened was specifically transmisogynistic (it was), I was literally just talking about how stuff I was hearing mapped onto my life.

I also find it interesting, how you put this in an ask instead of a reblog. A reblog puts whatever I said on your account, an account I've heard you regularly use to support transmisogynists. I'm happy to talk to you more, genuinely I like to argue and you seem interesting enough. But I want what I say on your account. I'm not going to respond to another ask or reblog on this one until you reblog the original. Here I even got you a link.

[angstyandromanticwriting]

Regina George X Fem!Reader Angsty, Cute, and Fluffy Prompt [Sneak-Peek]

• Takes place after the occurrence of the film [2024 ver. with Reneé Rapp]

• Some mild changes made to some elements of the story

• The prompt will be dropping in its entirety on Saturday + There will be more!

• This is another new idea, but does not impact the other ideas I am already writing for!

!TW: Being stuck in a toxic relationship, insult(s), mention of previously being kidnapped, implied suffering from PTSD + Depression + Separation Anxiety + Anxiety in general, mention of previously being abused + injury detail - If I’ve missed any, please let me know ❤️!

Birds’ Eye View/Heart’s Desire

“Are you done, or-?” You inquired, raising your eyebrows, after Regina threw another line of insults at you; you’d told her to rant, seeing she needed it, but…

“No,” she answered, without hesitation, even though she appeared a little exasperated, wincing, before she looked away from you, and sighed heavily, knowing she shouldn’t get you involved with all that was currently frustrating her following her recent arguments with her boyfriend, Shane Olman, especially when you didn’t even know him, and hadn’t ever talked to him, only a recent student at Northshore High School, managing to take on Senior Year after you’d been expelled from your last school. “Yes,” she added, barely audibly, and you would appear surprised, not expecting such an answer from her as you tilted your head partially, a pained as well as skeptical expression on your face; you didn’t want her to feel as if she couldn’t talk to you about all that was burdening her the way you feared she did, hoping against hope - however - at the same time, that she had instead managed to clear her mind a little, until she crumpled, and looked up at you again with a hurt look on her face before she said ‘no’, her voice softer than you’d ever heard it before. “N-No, I’m not, I-.. I’m-..” She shrugged, before awkwardly bowing her head, and you would nod gravely, smiling sadly over at her, before you timidly inched closer to her to gently squeeze her shoulder, prompting her to express relief, her heart skipping a beat, before she glanced up at you again, and felt strong enough to continue just by having her gaze lock with your own in the best way possible. “I hate you,” she spat, her gaze never leaving your’s, whilst you couldn’t help, but smirk in her direction, amused though you knew you shouldn’t be, but it didn’t stop your heart from aching as you wondered who had hurt her the way you could tell that they had, before she’d come back to your Uncle’s ranch with you. “Y-You stink, and I hope an air conditioner falls on you,” she added sharply, clearly through gritted teeth, whilst you appeared taken aback - of all things you thought she might say, that was one of the least you’d been expecting to hear, but it still made you have to fight back a giggle regardless of how it had shocked you, at first, “okay.” She drew in another shallow breath, before releasing it through her nose like you’d told her to, just to try and calm her down when she’d almost broken one of the mucking up shovels you and her had been using to tidy up the horses’ stalls here. “Okay, I - I think I’m-.. I think I’m done, now,” she stated, and you would almost feel disappointed, though at the same time of course you were relieved to know that she seemed at least somewhat relieved, now that she’d slung out yet another insult in your direction, though she wasn’t directing anything of what she meant toward you; she couldn’t.

The thought startled her, just for a moment, as she winced again, and forced a smile in your direction, trying to hide that such a small thing had flustered her the way nothing else ever had before.

“That’s good,” you stated, and she would hesitate, before nodding, and smiling softly over at you, this time the smile was genuine; it was hard not to allow the corners of her lips to curve upward whenever she was around you, “that’s always good - so-.. are you ready to talk about it, now?”

She would appear taken aback by your question, her smile faltering a little, before she awkwardly cleared her throat, and nodded slowly, though you could tell she was reluctant to discuss what had been happening between her and Shane recently.

“I guess,” she answered, and you would smile warmly back at her, glad that she felt able to talk about such things with you - it even made you feel a little warm and fuzzy inside, like a sense of pride was washing over you in response to your hope that she seemed to trust you, just as much as you trusted her, and somehow had ever since you’d first met her that day; the day she’d first been sent here by her mother to distract her, and take her mind off of the tense situation between her and Shane, before you’d even started at Northshore High. “But - if we’re gonna talk about it,” she began again, and you would tense up for a moment, wondering what she might be about to say, next; you were always terrified that maybe something bad would happen - that maybe she would up, and abandon you, though you couldn’t imagine why. You always put such dread up to how you’d been kidnapped, and abused the way you and, a few years ago now; you were quite young when it happened, and the nights you’d spent screaming and crying had never left your mind, especially not at night, where your nightmares were at their most vivid moments. For a moment, you remembered your kidnapper coming in to kick at your side for how you’d tried to call your home, after successfully sneaking out of his basement, but that wasn’t the worst of the punishment; he spent every night after that breaking each and every one of your fingers, and he would have moved onto your wrist, or toes, if the police didn’t locate you when they did. You winced at the memory, but you wouldn’t let her see the pain in your eyes as you bowed your head, before she could lock eyes with you again, making her heart sink a little as soon as she realised she wouldn’t be able to lock eyes with you again, if you didn’t lift your head the way you had, before, trying to act as if you were distracted by the next pile of dung you were shovelling up at your feet. “Can we do it whilst we’re mucking up, l-like we are, now?” You appeared taken aback again by her request, forgetting your previous thought as you looked up at her again, forgetting how to breathe for a moment whilst she silently admired your eyes without even realising that she was, trying to tell herself that it was just because it made sense to make eye contact right now, rather than glance down at your lips, or just down at the ground when you were both in the middle of a conversation the way that you were, or had been, now.

You appeared skeptical again, once you’d recomposed yourself, and could finally breathe again, as soon as you remembered how your lungs were supposed to work, ever since you’d been born a few years ago, now.

“I don’t know,” you answered warily, prompting her heart to sink, and eyes to darken a little; it made something ache within her for a reason unbeknownst to her to see that you still didn’t seem to trust her with the shovel, but she guessed she understood after she’d been wielding it the way she had earlier, wanting to either break it or smack someone over the head with it whilst she’d been thinking about her and Shane’s recent argument. It was seeing the hurt on her face - even if it were only there for a moment - that made your heart cave in, as you - without hesitation - took up her shovel, before holding it out to her, and forgetting how to breathe all over again as you waited for her to take it from you. “Here, of - of course we can,” you reassured her gently, a little breathlessly, but you tried to hide that you couldn’t breathe as you tried not to watch her hand as it inched closer to your own, before she accepted the shovel from you, and couldn’t help, but allow the pinky finger of her left hand to brush against the back of your own, prompting your heart to stutter, and you to tense up again as a makeshift spurt of electricity seemed to run down your arm - something you’d never felt before. You wondered if she felt it too, noticing the dazed expression on her face, making your cheeks heat up as you hastily looked away from her again, though you longed to keep your eyes focused on her, and only her, despite your not knowing why you’d even had such a reaction to her skin touching your own the way it had, for a split second.

“Thank you,” she replied, once she’d been able to find her voice again as she smiled timidly down at the ground beneath her, “that was-.. really brave of you, considering.”

You lifted your eyebrows again as you glanced over at her, confused by her praise, but still you couldn’t keep the smile from your face as your eyes glinted a little over at her, prompting her heart to skip a beat again as soon as she felt your eyes upon her, encouraging her more than enough to glance up at you again, her eyes not hesitating to lock with your own as you both faltered in place for a moment, staring over at each other as if nobody else existed anymore, besides you two, right here, right now.

It took her more strength than it ever had before to stay stood where she was, seeing herself in another universe inching closer to you, whilst she lifted her right hand up to your left cheek, only making her heart begin to pound a little as you warily glanced over at her, your heart skipping a beat, almost as if you were picturing the same thing as she was, hardly breathing, just like she was, stood before you, before her eyes darkened, and she awkwardly cleared her throat again to break herself from her previous daze, as well as you from your own as you silently cursed yourself, before digging up at the muck again to try and clear your head somehow, only to fail miserably as soon as you felt her hand upon your shoulder.

“Reg-” You spluttered out, before you even knew her name was slipping from your lips, but before you could continue, she pressed on, determined to show you that she meant everything she told you, whilst she knew you silently doubted some things about yourself, though you’d not even told her her about what had happened to you, when you were younger, and felt more hopeless than you ever had before.

“I meant it,” she cooed, gently squeezing your shoulder as you timidly glanced up at her, wishing you could breathe normally again, whilst at the same time you were terrified of losing the way she made you feel, whenever she was with you the way she was, now, “you’re the bravest girl I know.”

You tried not to shudder, your eyes threatening to fill with tears as a lump began to form within your throat, only making it harder for you to not break down in front of her as you forced a shaky smile in her direction, before bowing your head again as soon as small tears began to form within your eyes.

“Bravest, huh?” You mused, and she nodded hastily, not hesitating at all because she meant every word, and knew she always would. Being hit by a bus the way she had last year had made her feel different; more grateful, of everything, as well as everyone, around her - for a split second, whilst she was unconscious, she swore her life had flashed before her eyes, and it made her feel guilty for almost everything she’d ever done - well, everything, until now.

“You - mean a heck of a lot to me,” she expressed, and you would appear taken aback again, your heart skipping a beat, before you glanced up at her again, and wondered why your heart felt as if it were being squeezed even though at the same time it felt as if it were currently soaring with every word she shared with you, and you’d reacted in similar ways ever since you’d first met her, and began to feel alive whenever she was with you the way that she was, now, “you always have, e-ever since I-.. y’know, got to actually know you, and talk to you, and that’ll never change, I promise - you know that, right?”

“I know,” you reassured her, your voice briefly trembling, prompting her heart to squeeze alongside your own as she frowned, and carefully eased you into a hug whilst you melted into her embrace, and wouldn’t hesitate to return it as you buried your face into her left shoulder, feeling safer than you ever had before as you subconsciously drowned within her sweet scent in the best way possible.

“Good,” she returned gently, “I’m glad.” You both fell quiet for a moment as you tried to recompose yourselves, before she held you at arms length blissfully, her eyes glinting alongside your own. “So,” she chimed, and you couldn’t help, but giggle softly whilst you carefully brushed away any remaining tears, “should we continue mucking, or-?”

You smiled warmly at her, before nodding, and taking up your shovel again, as if she hadn’t had you almost breaking down completely within her arms a brief moment ago.

“I’d love to,” you replied, brighter than she’d ever heard you before, prompting her heart to jump alongside your own as she smiled sheepishly back at you, evidently glad to see that you were happy again, now that she’d admitted to you that you were more than what you thought you were to her, before, “as long as you’re still up to talking about whatever you wanna talk about, as we go?”

She tensed up again, remembering Shane, and the fight he and her had had, earlier today, and for a moment you regretted more than anything bringing up the situation, until she smiled reassuringly over at you again, and nodded, before taking your free hand within her own to soothe you even more, indirectly making your heart pound faster than it ever had before as you tried not to glance down at her fingers intertwined with your own, whilst also silently praying that she couldn’t hear what was currently going on within your chest.

“Always,” she answered, and you would express relief, your expression softening, before you glanced down at the ground again, your cheeks heating up even more than they ever had before, “but before that - where should we start?”

~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed it, and are looking forward to the dropping of the full version! ❤️

[ca-suffit]

i'm often mad when loustat fan said Louis should have killed antoinette himself bc Lestat wanted just to be desir and confident. But it's not true. Lestat stay for decade with Antoinette and the point is it didn't matter if she lived or not because had Louis killed Antoinette, Lestat would picked another person. Louis understand it well and I'm tired of the fandom wanted Louis to always prove himself in whatever Lestat put up on him. Antoinette might be a white woman, I feel like her worst hater are white women... which is weird bc they are using her whitness as a way to hate her. I think they hate her bc she's a woman. Because Lestat's whitness and the fact he's a cis guy never bother his fandom. I can't take those view on Antoinette seriously. I agree she's not an interesting character, just Lestat's pawn. The only upsetting thing is Antoinette, as a white woman, had some agency. She had her own income, her reputation but she throw it away in favor of a man who never give a shit about her. Yes, I understand she was manipulated but it sting. If she didn't become a vampire, and just stay in relationship with Lestat, she would have turn like Serena Joy in the Handmaid's Tale (from the Book who was a soprano).

Antoinette is hard for parts of the fandom to come to terms with bcuz fandoms are mostly made up of white women. It hits closer to home for those characters to exist and be shitty rather than other characters that are more removed from how ppl personally identify.

I come and go seeing comments in all directions about Antoinette and it's bcuz she's a white woman who was complicit in antiblackness bcuz she expected to benefit from it herself in the end. She didn't and it called attention to why she didn't and made ppl reflect on that and feel uncomfortable. It is meant to be a sad story but also reflective and critical of how white women often move in the world.

Louis never could have killed her bcuz he knew that's what Lestat wanted and it was one of the ways he retained any semblance of v mild control in the relationship. As u wrote, Louis doesn't have access to the same protections as any of the white ppl around him, so he's learned how to survive otherwise using other means, even as a vampire. Lestat knows Antoinette upsets Louis and Claudia acts as his mouth piece on it multiple times (illustrating the burden that children often take on with dysfunctional parents, as well as the emotional labor often piled on black girls/women). Lestat keeps waiting for Louis to vocally tell him himself to kill her and he won't, bcuz he doesn't want to verbalize his feelings like that. He's protective of his emotions and feels he's been dismissed a lot on the few instances he's said things out loud to Lestat, so why keep telling him this hurts him when it's obvious?? Why react at all?? It's the only way he can protect his pride and also dig at Lestat's own insecurities at the same time. Lestat and other white characters are used to being loud and abrasive to get reactions, but that's not something the other characters who aren't white can v safely do in return, which is why it's a much rarer occurrence and typically followed by a great consequence to them.

[jacksintention]

.

[eclipseshotel]

I wonder if Wolf Predator and AVP Elder Predator have ever met…

[evilkitten3]

so many problems with hinata's character could've been solved if she was a root sleeper agent

[cuteniaarts]

Behold, my latest and most enamouring new obsession:

Malina, Lady of the Chief of the Northern Water Tribe. As if Red Lotus child OCs weren’t niche enough

[nebulouscoffee]

genuine question does anyone know what to do when you feel like a nervous breakdown is coming? like is there a solid reliable way to stop it or at least prevent it from getting really bad

[seafoam-taide]

i yam thinking abt. my Thing

[mascula-sappho]

are you Marcus Aurelius or a hippie gay in love with his teacher? oh wait

[spottedmischief]

You ever get the feeling that somebody is stalking your blogs when you have blocked them but they keep making new accounts when they get blocked because they have nothing better to do ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[thebirdandhersong]

It's really interesting to explore the place of religion in the Lockwood and Co universe, partly because Stroud sort of paints it as a coping mechanism/blind faith/mental crutch in the books (or extrapolates things like ghost cults, the Combe Carey monks, etc. from it)