#no matter how emasculating

[goldengodcannibal]

Spent my ENTIRE full hour 10 break growling about how there wasn't an available charging stall for my car, only for a car to pull out of a stall in the last 5 minutes, to reveal that there was actually an available stall next to it the entire time.

😐

[cerastes]

Habe you ever had a "did we even play the same game?" moment with someone?

My favorite game ever used to be Metal Gear Solid 4, it’s still up there in my top favorites, and this time at a party I met a guy that said he didn’t like MGS4 because he felt like it ruined Snake as a character and that it misrepresented him. I asked if he could elaborate and his response was that they took this Rambo dude, this super manly war hero and emasculated him into a weak old man.

I need you to understand that Solid Snake was without exaggeration fundamental in my growth as a person: I am from a latino country, grew up in what’s widely considered the wrong side of the tracks in the middle of nowhere, being macho, manly, tough was incredibly important to me, because that’s how it was in there, and Snake (plus “The Knight In Rusty Armor” by Robert Fisher) basically made me question all of what I’d grown up thinking up until then, because Snake isn’t a badass because grrr manly beef jerky I kill and swear, he is this incredibly solemn guy who hates what he can do, but is the only one that can do it, and if he doesn’t do it, then nuclear war happens, or worse. There’s a whole angle of expectation as a narrative arc in regards to Snake: Meryl expected a glorious, boisterous war hero, Otacon expected a grizzled, badass action hero, Liquid expected Himself But Better In Every Way, Ocelot expected a tool and nothing else, Naomi expected a callous and cold killer… And they were all wrong, he is, ultimately, an exhausted man that cannot stop no matter how much he wants to stop, because if he does, the world might likely go up in literal flames.

So to hear this self-proclaimed superfan of Snake say this just made me skip anger and go all the way to pity. In-universe, those in the know of Snake worship him as an actual God of War, and it’s a common thing that gets addressed in-universe: The whole point of MGS2 is that Raiden could never have won if he tried to be Snake, because you don’t want to be Snake. Snake hates being Snake. Snake isn’t manly because he beat a tank on foot one on one, Snake is admirable because he does the right thing, even if he’s breaking down molecule by molecule as he goes and he wants nothing more than to fuck off and raise dogs in the arctic, but keeps on going anyways because he can do something about it. The most important message he imparts on Raiden and Meryl is Don’t Be Me; Create A World Where Snake Doesn’t Need To Exist.

I felt pity because if you feel like MGS4 misrepresented Snake, then you really and explicitly are exactly the kind of fodder PMC nobody that feeds the proxy wars in MGS4. I think only by skipping every cutscene you can come out thinking that way. The only thing super about him was ficial.

[laine-is-pomegranted]

You won’t do it, no balls (like curly).

Jimmy x co captain Y/N smut, or head cannons NSFW and SFW. Anyways you ate your last Jimmy fic!

Jimmy Headcanons ! (NSFW & SFW)

c/w - jimmy being jimmy

a/n - thinking abt doin headcannons for all of the mouthwashing crew.... lmk if that would be something you guys would wanna see... also sorry about this being so short.

wc - 408

(image not mine)

Safe For Work Headcanons !

huge on pda! always has a hand on your waist or the small off your back or an arm around you. not really in a cutesy "i love my partner so much i need everyone to know how much i love them" way but more in a "i need to keep my dog on a leash" kind of way.

contrary to popular belief, i think he is actually very well groomed. he thinks very highly of himself so i think it would only make sense that he wants to make himself appear extremely put together.

uses cremo's 'bourbon vanilla' bodywash and their ' spice and black vanilla' cologne.

love language is definitely acts of service or gift giving.

he hates telling you that he loves you because it makes him feel like you have a level of control over him and he can't stand it. however, he is constantly doing things for you.

your car needs repairs? he's under the hood. you need help moving something? he's doing it by himself and will NOT let you help.

smokes camel crushes. used to use chewing tabaco because pony express doesn't allow cigarettes onto the ship due to them being fire hazards, but stopped after realizing you could taste it in his mouth. now he just uses nicotine patches while on the ship.

listens to divorced dad rock. think hinder, theory of a deadman, my darkest days.

much bigger fan of cats than he is of dogs.

Not Safe For Work Headcanons !

slightly above average dick size, not huge though. quite girthy, though.

not a fan of you riding him, he says it doesn't feel as good as missionary or doggy but in reality it makes him feel emasculated having you on top of in a 'position of power'.

a huge sadist (shocker). he's constantly spanking or hitting or pulling hair.

LOVES making you cry during sex. whether its from overstimulation or just straight pain, it doesn't matter.

really big on choking too.

not very big on bondage or restraining you. he likes to feel you grabbing at him and writhing around under him. it gives him a huge ego boost to know that he doesn't have to tie you down to keep you from squirming away.

bites and leaves hickeys frequently. he enjoys the thought of there being physical marks on your body that show that you're his.

very vocal in bed. he's not necessarily *loud* perse but he talks and groans a ton.

[trash-and-trash-accessories]

I love Spike so much. He's the most character of all time. But it's more than that. He's more than bleached hair, a pretty face, and bloodlust. He makes sense. The character makes sense.

He's William. He's still, despite it all, William Pratt, the god-awful poet and pathetic wet cat of a man under the thumb of mommy his whole life. He just wants to be loved and held and to satiate his unending bloodlust. He's not the big bad. He's pathetic.

He's burnt out on all the plots and schemes. Plots and schemes are Angel's thing. Serving some grand evil purpose is Darla's thing. Cruelty is Drusilla's thing. William Pratt is a poet and a mama's boy who just wants a strong woman to love him and tell him what to do. He's tired. He's so tired of the plots and schemes.

Sure, he knows how to have a good time, he plays kitten poker and sells demon eggs to the highest bidder but that's a matter of making money or hanging out with friends. It's not what he WANTS. The only thing he wants is to be loved by someone who loves him back. The problem is, he's toxic and obsessive. He doesn't fall in love. He becomes consumed. His whole world revolves around the object of his obsession. So when he's with Drusilla, he's the big bad evil guy doing schemes. Trying to impress her with extreme violence and death. Because that's what Drusilla is into. Torture and death. She's Catholic. And a vampire.

He also tries to impress Angel by killing Slayers because Angel is into Slayers and Angel and Spike canonically slept together don't at me. This man is bisexual.

When he's with Buffy he's a loyal dog. A bad boy, a part of the demonic world, but a dog nonetheless. He's a soulless monster but his obsession with Buffy turns him into one of the good guys. It's not natural for him. He feels it happening and he fights against it, but he's madly in love with her and he will be and do whatever it takes to impress her and make her love him back. He's obsessive.

He knows it, and he doesn't like that side of himself. He doesn't like that he's a pathetic dog. Sometimes he pushes against that side of himself. He tries to be a good person, for real. Not just a pathetic stalker of a man.

But he can't fight it. He is what he is.

And unfortunately that is a soulless vampire.

Hence that one scene that I pretend didn't happen.

But despite being definitionally evil, he can't stop being consumed the person he's obsessed with. Buffy wants him to have a soul. She wants him to not be the monster he is. So he rips William Pratt from his grave and resurrects him for her. He goes through hell to put his soul back inside his body for her. It takes her a long time to accept him again after what he did.

But he's the good boy now. He's a good dog.

Only she doesn't see him that way. In the end, he has her trust. Her love. She cares about him and sees him as her equal. As someone she can trust. She can't trust her friends because they're messy and constantly fucking up and betraying her because they don't understand what it is to be The Slayer. To have a human body and a human soul, with demonic power inside, and the divine mandate to sacrifice yourself for others, to save the world. No matter what that does to you.

Spike has a human soul, a demon inside him, trauma, and a divine mission to save the world. To sacrifice himself for everyone.

Spike is the only one who understands Buffy, and maybe the only one who ever will.

He's the perfect culmination of all her other relationships.

He fucks. Unlike Angel, Spike can fuck. He can experience joy alongside her.

He respects her strength and isn't emasculated or intimidated by the fact that she's stronger than him. He loves that she defeated a god. Unlike fucking Riley.

He's lived lifetimes worth of traumatic experiences. But he isn't currently experiencing an ongoing mental health crisis like Faith was.

And he likes poetry!

They even have the same ex boyfriend!

In conclusion He and Buffy are both the most character of all time and the narrative's favorites and therefore they are both perfect for each other and have the potential to be extremely toxic together and I'm so happy for them, I hope she pegs him, I know he would love that.

[idiotsonlyevent]

i've seen people talk a lot about how chilchuck is a caretaker, but he tries really hard to hide it - and how it seems like he probably wouldn't ascribe that label to himself - and i was wondering why until i remembered the genderbend extra!

here, woman chilchuck leaves the party because of her family - presumably because she wants to be with or take care of her kids and husband..... y'know, the things that man chilchuck is currently Not Doing? and its not because his family Isn't important to him, because it obviously is! and that's when it hit me:

many people have discussed how chilchuck is allergic to being emotionally vulnerable in-part because of the way half-foots are treated.... but i think there may ALSO be some gendered expectations associated with caretaking and being emotionally vulnerable that make him reluctant (at least earlier on in the series) to be open with others, especially about personal matters. especially when he's already being infantilized and dehumanized, being 'emasculated' (whether by other races'/cultures' standards or his own - unclear) is another thing he cold be trying to avoid by putting up his colder, more distant 'i'm only in it for the money' worksona.

[twistedwonderlandimaginesblog]

Hi~ Can I request Leona, Sebek, Vil and Jamil with a fem s/o who “bosses” them? That “I fear nothing but my girlfriend/wife” dynamic

I love them, but I feel like no one bosses them! (even Sebek and Jamil, who only obey Malleus/Kalim, but I feel like no one else would boss them around)

I love your writing, kisses kisses :³ <3

– Mel

Jamil Viper:

For Jamil it truly depended on how you worded your requests. If he felt like you were bossing him around it’s a quick way to build resentment in the relationship. He didn’t mind helping you out every once in awhile when he wasn’t busy, sometimes even doing tasks he knows need to be done before you request it, but forcing that into an obligation would rub him the wrong way. It’s a matter of respect and while he might not be able to demand that from Kalim, your relationship was a choice he could make of his own free will, and he’d do what he had to so he could protect his sanity.

Leona Kingscholar:

Leona just listened because he doesn’t feel like arguing. It would be far more beneficial to just begrudgingly listen to your demands than to fight back against them, a lesson he had learned both from the other women in the Sunset Savannah and more specifically his sister-in-law. He will make himself scarce quickly after if he sensed more demands were coming but since you were his woman, there was a part of his ego that told him it was his duty to see you taken care of. He had never understood it until he was dating you, but now he felt a little sympathy for men who didn’t have a secret spot they could sneak away to for some peace.

Sebek Zigvolt:

Before you’re together it would’ve annoyed Sebek, but once you’re dating he takes everything like a well-trained puppy. He’s a good listener, nodding at even your most outlandish requests and determined to fulfill them in some way. He’d go to the ends of the earth for you if that’s what you wanted. Malleus would have to remain a rung higher just because of his duties but you were still someone incredibly important to him. He wanted your happiness above his own, therefore he’d do everything he could to be there for you.

Vil Schoenheit:

Vil doesn’t quite consider it bossing around, moreso a mutual respect for each other which allowed you to talk freely. You asked him to do things for you as frequently as he requested your help, so it was a mutually beneficial request system that had you both taken care of. He had always found himself attracted to strong personalities, not feeling emasculated by your directness and instead preferring it as he’d never want to be considered a useless, do-nothing partner.

[hadesoftheladies]

Opinion: We Need to Start Talking About Violent Feminist Activism Seriously

while i do not think that females are as violent or would be as violent as males without patriarchal obstruction, i think it's mostly the emasculation of women (female socialization) that leads to this demureness that perpetuates female subjugation. we often frame femininity as something that inhibits consciousness-raising, but it is actually far more frightening and deeper than that. femininity and its practices inhibit female self-worth which in turn causes women to devalue themselves. this is why women are not accustomed to fighting for themselves, like every other animal (male and female) on this earth. women are so used to "lying down and taking it" because it is something they are primed to do. the danger of femininity isn't just that it deforms our bodies or divides us from each other, it is that it physically and mentally disables our ability to fight back.

i have often neglected to mention alternative methods in my separatist posts, but separatism is not the only way we can enact large-scale societal transformation. it is the only nonviolent way.

the truth of the matter is, as much as we make jokes and fantasize about killing men, the reason most women and girls "behave" when it comes to men and men do not "behave" when it comes to women is because women simply aren't feared, despite the fact that we have the power to become a threat. even in feminist circles such as this, talk of women physically harming men is seen as taboo, as something that can be easily used against us. so we have to constantly disclose that we aren't serious. i think this is part of the problem.

the other word for fear is respect. men cannot respect or revere men they do not fear on some level. in a twisted way, in order for women to become human to men, we have to get scary. we have to hold real power over them and become intolerant to them.

this doesn't necessarily have to be done strictly in violent ways. resisting femininity can range from allowing ourselves to frown and even scowl in public, not being hospitable toward men, not complimenting, affirming, validating or cleaning up after them. but the point of combatting female socialization is resisting the role of women in patriarchal society: sexual object, or in other words, victim. it is the victimization of women that men find especially erotic. that's why consensual sex isn't enough for them. they are fuelled by female terror.

in short, gyns, i'm saying the time has come when we should aim to put the fear of god in these bastards. the only way they will view rape as badly as they view cannibalism is if there is a constant looming threat of brutal social castration. they need to fear social punishment, which is difficult because half of society is made up of men that approve. so how can the other half, women, make it so that the other half are afraid to do so?

which brings us, ironically, back to separatism and also gender non-conformity. in order for women to reach a place where we can defend ourselves using violence and not get taken ten steps back for killing/maiming a rapist, pedo, abuser we need women to have access to ironclad female solidarity.

male solidarity is what keeps the status quo intact, and female solidarity is its only worthy counterpoint. the reason patriarchy is so strong is because of female solidarity with males rather than intra-community solidarity. this is the weak point of patriarchy, it's over-dependence on women on a cellular level. society as we know it, patriarchal or not, will fall to shit if women refused to participate in its core structures. literally the only reason children are still being born, raised and schooled in the face of men's destructiveness is because of women. men can destroy as much as they like and a society will still function for the most part because of the resilience of women. literally the biggest economic problems societies face come from male criminality whether from upper or lower class men. the only reason any of it still functions is because of women. women are the glue of the home themselves, the basic unit of society. take women away, and i promise there's nothing fucking left.

for this reason, the biggest de-radicalization tools patriarchy employs against female liberation are marriage/co-habitation with men, femininity and religion and i will get into the details why briefly:

-marriage/co-habitation often results in the woman's isolation from female community or larger society because the man strategically makes himself the central focus/recipient of her resources (health, attention, energy)

-femininity keeps women focused on male approval as a source of power, further encouraging female-female competition and destroying solidairty

-religion and romance are explicitly androcentric, focusing on framing men as the only possible givers of life, purpose, fulfillment and meaning to women while simultaneously demeaning, obscuring and devaluing the fact that women are oftentimes the primary sources of human life and love

now see that all three do three very important things for de-radicalization: they frame men as sources of life, meaning and vitality as opposed to a threat or disadvantage, isolates women from their true selves (devaluing their friendships, erasing their history and contributions, distorting their nature), and pits women against each other. to sum up, centering men and then erasing and isolating women from each other and themselves.

but we won't scare men by psyching ourselves out of what's going to be necessary to defend ourselves. in order for women to be mobilized to take power men have no authority to deny them, we have to cultivate strong, nearly unbreakable self-esteem. we need to esteem ourselves so highly that we never question whether or not we should feel entitled to a better life.

that's why refusing to emasculate yourself is the first step. decolonizing your mind of its male-centeredness and no longer seeing yourself as subordinate, inferior or less worthy to a life of freedom than him.

the second step after de-centering men within yourself is to quickly center women. that's where separatism comes in. not only does this also aid you in decolonizing the rest of your mind, but it gives you the courage to go for better rather than settle for what men say you deserve. seeing that actually, men aren't vital at all to a wonderful life. throwing yourself into female centricity and replacing male hegemony with female history, philosophy, culture, literature, all of it. but not just on a mental level, on an interpersonal and financial level as well. this boosts you economically and empowers you buy giving you that independence necessary to make demands.

then when it comes to the dire, when men retaliate as they are prone to do, you don't hesitate to punish them for it. you don't hesitate to make it cost them. whether that's in organized feminist cyber attacks (doxxing, phishing, DDos attacks, etc). you make them see themselves as potential victims. where what they do to others can also be done to them. where they fear being poisoned, disappearing, outed, isolated, killed.

this kind of organized self-defense will not happen without female solidarity. we already have examples of women coming together to beat abusive men up and get rid of the threats themselves when victims of male violence fear state retaliation too much to defend themselves. female solidarity can substitute for state neglect. it is the only thing that can. the king of the pride doesn't stand a chance against a pack of lionesses. and the state cannot punish all its women lest it destroy itself entirely. governments know that restricting women restricts their economy, so killing masses of women is just not feasible.

female solidarity is the missing piece, and that's what the status quo continually tries to dismantle. also, non-violence in the face of our oppression has never been a virtue. it is something the patriarchy has counted on.

the lie of femininity is that men will respect or care for us once they see how we suffer and how beautiful we are. we think they will set us apart as sacred if they are in love with us. but the truth is they will only respect us if they fear us.

anyways, i'm just thinking out loud here, and these are all generalizations. i'll need to make a whole other article where i break this down on an infrastructural level.

[intersexfairy]

with how we're all aware of how toxic masculinity leads men/boys to harass, assault, and abuse other men/boys, you'd think the fact they can be harmed by patriarchy and misogyny wouldn't be a controversial statment. *especially* marginalized men. but alas, many people have taken the "identity" in identity politics so literally, they just end up ignoring and reinforcing the harmful things they claim to be against.

also if you think the pain of the men harmed by toxic masculinity isn't a big deal because they're men... that is. that is literally you believing in toxic masculinity. like i thought we all knew part of toxic masculinity is that men shouldn't feel pain, they shouldn't cry, they can't ask for help or be truly hurt, etc. etc. and if they do any of these things, then they're not real men and not only deserve to be emasculated, but deserve to suffer. you just switched it to they are real men so they deserve to suffer.

and even though again, this is extra harmful for marginalized men, i shouldn't have to say that for you to care. if you only give support to people harmed by these systems when you think deserve it, you're always going to end up propping these systems up at some point. maybe you should stop that.

also. to any man reading this who feels like their pain doesn't matter: it does. you deserve to exist in a world where you're safe to be yourself and feel emotions, and get genuine protection and support. we all need to exist in that world. none of us deserve this hell.

[coconut-dreamz]

gorgeous

"you've ruined my life, by not being mine" || tom blyth x actress! reader

a/n: i'm baaaack, with more ts and love for tom blyth

you should take it as a compliment that i got drunk and made fun of the way you talk

you were at out at a local bar with some of your cast mates from tbosas. you were sitting with rachel and you were mocking tom's british accent. the two of you were laughing at your terrible impression. "why does he say that! it's so funny!" rachel laughs.

"what are you two laughing about?" tom's walks over from the other side of the table. "nothing" you both mumble out, sharing a look. "sounded like you were having a lot of fun earlier" he adds, you laugh at this. "sounded like you were having a lot of fun earlier." you repeat in a british accent, mimicking tom.

rachel bursts out laughing at this. tom just gives you two a look like you'd both gone insane. "making fun of me now?" he asks, as you lose it. "maybe," you make out between laughs. "that's not very nice." he says in a jokingly stern voice. "sorry, we just think your normal accent is so funny." rachel explains as you continue to laugh.

exasperated, tom leaves, going to find the company of people who won't laugh at him when he speaks. this causes the two of you to laugh even harder.

you should think about the consequence off your magnetic field being a little too strong

somehow, you always found yourself gravitating towards tom. whether you're on the opposite side of the room from him, you always find yourself right by him within a matter of minutes. he had a weird pull on you.

you had been talking with an actor that played one of the background academy students when you heard tom's laugh from across the room. it distracted you from the conversation you were having. she seemed to have noticed your lack of attention and just smirked. "go ahead," was all she said and nodded her head towards tom. you thanked her and left towards him.

he smiled as he saw you approaching the group, opening his arms to you for a hug. you sighed contently as his arms around you. "how are you?" he whispered in your ear. "better now that you're here." you admitted

and i got a boyfriend, he's older than us he's in the club doing, i don't know what

your boyfriend had just texted you telling you he was going out with some friends for the night. it was morning for you, being on the opposite side of the planet from him. hearing that from him, you knew you'd probably be seeing some headlines of him in the morning, or night for you.

things were strained lately, with you being busy with back to back projects and him, honestly not doing shit. it made him feel emasculated knowing you were currently the it girl and he was just known as your boyfriend. he was a bit older and no longer in his prime and no longer booking big projects.

you're so cool, it makes me hate you so much whiskey on ice, sunset and vine

you were on a break from filming so you, rachel, tom and josh decided to go to la and soak in some sun. you four were out at dinner. and tom was telling you all about what it was like filming for billy the kid.

he was nursing a whiskey and ice, recounting all the notable parts of filming. it made you so jealous. he was just so damn cool. this was not helping your giant crush on him.

you've ruined my life, by not being mine you're so gorgeous

you and tom were sitting in your trailer, just basking in the peace and quiet. it wasn’t everyday that you got to sit and relax and enjoy some coffee and mediocre croissants.

it killed you knowing that tom wasn't yours. you even broke up with your loser boyfriend. "god, you're so fucking gorgeous." you mutter under your breath while sitting with tom enjoying coffee. "what was that?" he looks up from his book. "huh, oh nothing!" you blurt out, not realizing you said that out loud, taking a sip of your coffee.

i can't say anything to your face 'cause look at your face

"hunter, why's he so damn gorgeous. i can't handle it!" you shout to hunter. you were all gathered in some local bar. you longingly stared at tom from across the bar. "girl, i don't know. tell him yourself." she answers blandly. "i can't! nothing ever comes out of my mouth when i try to talk to him. he must think i'm some type of weirdo!" you exclaim, annoyed by the beauty of that gorgeous, gorgeous man standing across the crowded room.

and i'm so furious at you for making me feel this way but what can i say? you're gorgeous

"oh my god! i'm so mad!" you randomly shout as you third wheel rachel and josh in rachel's trailer. "what is it now?" josh asks, tired of your antics. "we all know it's tom. it's always tom." rachel answers for you. "i'm so furious that he makes me feel this way, but he's not mine!" you dramatically flop onto the couch.

josh shakes his head hearing this, "then tell him how you feel!" he advises you. "i can't! he's too gorgeous for me!" you reply, fake crying into the pillow. the two roll their eyes at your dramatics. you should take it as a compliment that i'm talking to everyone here but you

it was finally the end of filming, so the director threw a wrap party. you waltzed around the room, talking to nearly every single person. everyone but tom.

"why won't she talk to me? is she mad at me?" tom asks hunter. she gives rachel a knowing grin. "i don't think she's mad at you, but you should ask her yourself." rachel adds, pushing him towards you.

tom decided he had enough of you ignoring him and walked towards you, interrupting your conversation. "hey, can i talk to you?" he asks, you simply nod, too nervous to speak.

and you should think about the consequence of you touching my hand in the darkened room

he grabs your hand and leads you to a dark corner of the venue the party was being held. "did i do something wrong?" he asks, a concerned look on his face. "no! not at all!" you exclaim, trying to alleviate his thoughts. "i've just been feeling nervous around you lately."

if you've got a girlfriend, i'm jealous of her but if you're single that's honestly worse 'cause you're so gorgeous it actually hurts

you weren't sure of tom's relationship status, he never mentioned anything about having a girlfriend and you never mentioned anything about being in a relationship either. not that you even were in one anymore.

a part of you wanted him to be single, but a part of you hoped he wasn’t. it was honestly worse if he was single. it probably meant he wasn't interested then.

ocean blue eyes looking in mine i feel like i might sink and drown and die

you stare into his blue eyes. you never realized how blue they were. they were like oceans. all you wanted to do was swim in them, or even drown in them. they were so gorgeous, just like him. "have your eyes always been so blue?" you ask aloud, staring deeply into his eyes.

you make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah there's nothing i hate more than what i can't have

you loved spending time with tom. he made you happy. but there was always a sad feeling that's fill your heart when you thought about how he wasn't yours.

"are you single, tom?" you break the silence after your precious confession. this question shocks tom for a moment. "yeah, why?" he asks a little confused by your conversation now. "can i kiss you?" you whisper out, inching closer to him.

he doesn't answer and instead slams his lips onto your own. after a few moments of passionate kissing, you pull apart. "you don't know how long i've been waiting to do that." tom whispers, his face still only inches from you. "god, you're so gorgeous" you mutter out.

[thebabblingbrookenook]

Love To Hate You

Pairings: Anthony Bridgerton x Female Reader

Summary: Anthony Bridgerton has been your favorite rival since college. Nothing gets your blood pumping quite like getting under his skin. No matter how much you love to see him squirm, you hate the defeated look on his face at someone else's hands. You never thought you'd see the day when your only worthy opponent would become you're most exciting conquest.

Warnings: 18 & Older - Oral, Rough Sex, Degradation, Praise, Strong Language, Spanking

Word Count: 5.6k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three days.

                That’s how long this merger had been at a standstill.  You’d spent the last 72 hours listening to a room full of grown men performing a metaphorical dick measuring. It was a miracle that your eyes weren’t permanently rolled to the back of your head.

                The only thing keeping you from telling your pompous asshole of a boss to swallow his pride and make a few concessions was the palpable irritation radiating off the man seated across from you at the conference table.

                Anthony Bridgerton.

                Since your college days, you had lived to needle this man. He wore every expression clear as day across his annoyingly handsome face. It was so easy to rile him up, and even more rewarding to spar with him when he came back at you with his sharp, alluring tongue. He had proven himself a worthy opponent – someone who was not only willing to play with you, but who was capable of leaving you a panting, sweaty mess under his designer shoe.

                The crease between his brow deepened with every idiotic word that left his associate’s arrogant mouth. Something about this man’s tone pissed you off. He spoke with the authority that Anthony was allowing him to possess, but it fit him just as poorly as that knock-off suit that stretched too tightly across his bulky shoulders. He would never wear that power like Anthony. Anthony earned his arrogance and wore it like the fucking king he was.

                This guy needed to be humbled in an embarrassingly public way. Bonus points for the emasculation he’d feel once you shredded his ego to a bloody pulp with the ace you were hiding up your sleeve. Not only would this shut up the blundering idiot still talking out of his ass, but it would also piss Anthony the fuck off. It wasn’t hard to imagine the shade of red the tips of his ears would turn as he tried to reign in his temper.

                Squeezing your thighs together under the table to suppress your arousal, you turned to your rival with a knowing smirk.

 “Bridgerton, I knew you were reckless, but I never thought you were sloppy. You’ve clearly taken your eye off your company if you’re letting Vickers here run unsupervised around your kingdom.”

                His shoulders stiffened in delicious frustration at the sound of your voice, but his lips turned up mischievously as he took you in.

“Careful, darling. Do you really want to play that game? I can assure you; my eyes see all.” The aforementioned eyes slid down to where your legs were pressing together in desperation beneath the table. “Every. Single. Detail.”

Fuck. Why did his voice have to be so hot?

Shake it off, bitch. Your pussy can get hers later. Right now, you need to focus on your takedown.

“Oh, is that so?” You smiled back at him, willing him to take the bait.

You didn’t miss the way his eyes lingered on your chest just a moment more than was polite.

“I’m a man of my word sweetheart. And control is my drug of choice.”

Oh, this was too good. He was about to lose his mind when you yanked away his high and sent him spiraling into a bad trip.

“So, you were aware that your associate signed contract amendments on your behalf? And if I had to guess, he didn’t read them fully because according to these documents… Anthony Bridgerton consented to the 40% increase over the first 12 months. And then an additional 20% based on profit margins.”

The color drained from his face as your words hit home. A chill ran down your spine at his utterly lethal expression. You were used to his irritation. Intimately familiar with his anger… but this was different.

You could feel it the moment the last shred of restraint left his body. His already dark eyes turned almost black when he fixed them on his target.

“Is this true, Luther?” His voice was deceptively calm, but you could sense the predator lurking beneath the surface.

“Of course not,” Luther lied. “Are you really going to believe this manipulative bitch over me? That’s what she does. Why do you think Morrison hired her firm for legal representation. She’s a lying cun- …”

“STOP TALKING!” Anthony roared. “Finish that sentence and I will shove my foot so far up your ass you’ll be tasting leather.”

The room was deafeningly quiet now. A rush of wetness flooded between your legs when Anthony turned his gaze to you, and you couldn’t stop the little gasp that escaped your lips. Anthony may have gotten his high from control, but you thrived on chaos. And this was the very definition of playing with fire.

“Contracts…” he said, thrusting his hand toward you in a demand.

Victory was all but dancing in your eyes as you slid the papers under his waiting fingertips. Checkmate. This round went to you,

After a diligent assessment of his forged signature, his fingers curled into fists, crumpling the paper in his grasp.

It would be easy to prove the signatures invalid, voiding the contract and rendering it moot. But God, was it worth it to bask in the absolute manic energy he was barely keeping contained.

That simply wouldn’t do. You wanted to see him erupt.

You were in the midst of your plan to stoke the flames when Luther all but did the work for you,

“She’s lying Anthony! Come on, mate. You know me!”

“I do know you,” Anthony deadpanned. “You’re the same conniving, slippery bastard you’ve always been. And we are most certainly not mates. Apparently, you’re also a moron! Do you honestly believe I can’t decipher between my own signature and a fraud? It’s right fucking here in bold black ink, you twat!”

Luther opened his mouth to argue like the true dunce he was, but Anthony silenced him with his glare alone. The danger in his slow, deep voice all but purred over my skin.

“Get. The fuck. Out of my sight.”

“You can’t just fire me! I helped you build this fucking company. You’re nothing without me, Bridgerton!”

“I can, and I just did.” His careful, composed mask was slipping back into place and you already missed his rage. “You’re done here Luther. There won’t be a single person in this industry willing to work with you after I’m through.”

Shoving back forcefully, Luther pushed up from his rolling chair and straight into the woman carrying a try full of coffee orders for the room. It all happened so fast and there was absolutely nothing anyone could do to stop it.

The tray flung from her hands, dumping its contents onto Anthony’s broad chest and waiting lap. He stood abruptly, cursing under his breath, hands frantically trying to shoo the scalding liquid from his body.

When the woman’s hands reached out to assist him, your entire body froze. She was touching him, and you fucking hated it. You were also unsure of how he would react to the blunder. Luther deserved his wrath, but this poor girl did not.

Your heart did something funny in your chest when he gently gripped the wrists of the panicked, trembling woman in front of him.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Bridgerton! It was an accident. Are you okay?!”

“Jeannine…” he soothed. “Jeannine, it’s okay. I’m perfectly fine. Maybe a little wet, but unharmed. So, there’s no need for tears.”

Ugh… Now she was looking at him like she’d just fallen in love with him. You mean, kind of like you were 30 seconds ago? Shut up, brain! Don’t look at me like that. You saw nothing, and I don’t want to talk about it.

Anthony rubbed his hands up her arms to reassure her once more. “I could use a new set of clothes. Could you send for something for me?”

She beamed at him. “Of course, sir. I’ll get anything you’d like. That’s what I’m here for.”

Eye roll. Of course she had called him sir. And he undoubtedly loved every second of it.

“Thank you, Jeaninne. You’re truly invaluable. You know my sizes, and you know what I like, so I have no doubt you’ll choose something that flatters me.”

“That won’t be hard to do,” she blushed up at him.

His answering smile made you want to smack it right off his face. Charming bastard.

“Buy yourself something as well. Anything you want. Cost is no problem. I fear your pretty white blouse is ruined now.”

Yeah, you scoffed. Ruined and conveniently see through.

Jeaninne gave him one last embarrassed smile before retreating from the room. Before she reached the door he called after her.

“Oh, and Jeaninne… If you wouldn’t mind calling security to have them escort Mr. Vickers from premises.”

She replied with a nervous nod before fleeing the room.

You could cut the remaining tension with a knife. Everyone unsure of how to breach the standoff.

Predictably, it was my boss, lulled into a false sense of superiority, who decided to brave speaking.

“Well, well… It looks like the infallible Anthony Bridgerton isn’t invincible after all. It seems my attorney has managed to get underneath all your armor and hit her mark. How does it feel, Bridgerton?”

“How does what feel?” Anthony feigned interest, still wiping coffee from his trousers.

“To know you’re no better than the rest of us mere mortals. You’re just an arrogant boy who was handed his daddy’s company when he didn’t deserve it. Edmund would have never made a mistake like that one.”

Shit.

A small fleck of insecurity washed over Anthony’s features. He recovered quickly, but you saw it. It was an expression that was so out of place on him that for a split second he looked like another person entirely. Someone younger. Less larger than life, and more vulnerable.

It made you uncomfortable. You were the only one who was allowed to push Anthony’s buttons, and even you never wanted to tear him down that far.

Anthony opened his mouth, no doubt to tell your rotund boss to fuck all the way off, but it was your own voice that filled your ears.

“That’s enough! Mr. Morrison, you’re out of line. Don’t pretend to know anything of Edmund Bridgerton. That man would never have even granted you an audience. That’s how beneath him you would have found yourself. If I were you, I’d consider yourself grateful for even getting through the door.”

This meeting was getting out of control quickly. If you knew Anthony, and you believed you did, he was about to cut his losses and scrap the entire deal. He didn’t need this partnership. He wanted it, but he sure as fuck didn’t need it. And from where you sat, that was a dangerous place to be.

If you wanted to cash that big, fat commission check that only came after the ink was dried, you needed to do damage control.

“I think we need to take a breather. Everyone out!”

Mr. Morrison actually had the gall to laugh in your face.

“And I think you need to learn your place. I like you because you’re such a ball busting bitch but make no mistake – I’m the one in charge here. I pay you, not the other way around. So, I suggest you sit down and shut up while the men finish their conversation.”

The air in the room was charged with barely restrained fury. Whether it was yours or his, you couldn’t be sure. Mr. Morrison may have started this war, but Anthony Bridgerton was the one who finished it.

“Speak to her like that again and not only will I cancel this partnership, but I will buy your company outright and dismantle it piece by piece. I’ll sell it for parts while you watch your life’s work burn to ash. Did you think I didn’t know your proposal was a measure of last resort for you? I don’t need you, Mr. Morrison. Make no mistake – I’m the one with the real power here. From my vantage point, you’re the one who needs to learn their place.

Holy fuck…

If Mr. Morrison didn’t get the hell out of this room immediately, he was going to become intimately acquainted with your naked body, because – HOT DAMN! You were pretty sure it was the part of the story where the enemies were about to become lovers.

The look on Morrison’s face would have been funny if your clit wasn’t throbbing to within an inch of its life!

Walking to the door, you opened it and stepped aside, gesturing for him to make himself scarce.  “We can reconvene on Monday. I think calmer heads will yield the best results, don’t you?”

It surprised you when he didn’t try to argue. Anthony’s threat must have done its job.

Closing the door behind him, you locked it and tapped the high-tech keypad to cloak the space in privacy. The floor to ceiling glass immediately turned opaque and the sounds from the surrounding offices disappeared into silence.

You turned to find Anthony leaning against the large boardroom table, arms crossed over his toned chest. His eyes narrowed on you when you took a step towards him.

“I know you’re pleased with yourself, but I didn’t take you for the type to stick around to gloat.”

What a clueless jackass… He had no idea what was about to happen. The two of you had never crossed this line before, but you didn’t think you could survive another second in his presence without your mouth on him. Did he not feel this too?

God, this was going to be so embarrassing if he rejected you. It was a very real possibility. It would make perfect sense with the antagonizing nature of your relationship for him to even the playing field. Was it wrong that it turned you on even more to think about him putting you in your place?

“Shut the hell up, Bridgerton, and take off your pants.” Straight to the point was always the best approach with this man.

Genuine surprise colored his cheeks.

“I beg your pardon?!”

“You have been a raging dick for the past three days. If that vein in your neck is any indication, you’re going to stroke out before we can finish this deal. I’ve put way too much work into this project and spent way too much time in a room filled with guys staring at my tits for me not to get this bonus check. Now, take your fucking pants off so I can suck some of that stress out of you.”

“You’ve been thinking about my raging dick for the last three days, haven’t you?”

The smug turn of his perfect fucking mouth was almost enough to make you change your mind. It felt a bit too much like he was gaining the upper hand.

“And you’ve been thinking about my ass bent over your desk since I stepped foot in here on Wednesday. Don’t act like you don’t stroke yourself to sleep at night to thought of hate fucking me.”

Your fingers went to the buttons on your blouse and started to slowly reveal the lacey black bra beneath. You felt him go still.

“What are you doing?” he asked, voice dropping to a sinful register.

“Giving you a better look,” you smirked “Every time I looked up today your eyes were on my tits. Touch them. They feel even better than they look.”

“You’re being serious right now…” he quipped. “What makes you think I would ever want to touch you?”

“Well, for starters,” you said, inclining your head toward his straining crotch. “Your cock looks like it wants to tear through those trousers to get to me. Or had you not noticed?”

You watched, mesmerized as his hand came up to rub himself over the restrictive fabric. Those pants were your new arch nemesis.

“If you want to rid me of my stress, it would be as easy as getting in your car and not coming back. You are the absolute bane of my existence, you know that?”

His surly words were doing nothing but egging you on.

“Maybe…” you purred, stepping into his space. You brought his warm, strong hands up to splay out over your waist. “But I’m also the object of all your desires.”

He growled in your ear when you leaned down to lick the protruding vein running up the length of his neck.

“This changes nothing between us. I still think you are the most infuriating woman on the planet.”

The heat of him looming against your stomach was too much to resist. Your fingers gripped him firmly until you felt him twitch in your palm.

“Are you going to fuck me or not, Bridgerton? If not, I think I saw your brother at the end of the hall when I closed the door.”

You made to pull away from him when his hand locked around the back of your neck, pressing you firmly into the sizable bulge resting between you.

“Don’t you fucking dare. We both know you would eat my brother alive. You’re not that kind of cruel.”

“No,” you agreed. “I’m your brand of cruelty, Anthony. I think someone designed me just for you. The arrogant, entitled prick in need of someone to put him in his place. I’m your comeuppance, baby. Now be a good boy and serve your penance.”

His forehead pressed roughly into yours, trapping you to his gaze.

“You never learned how to shut this smart mouth, did you? You’ve been lashing me with that tongue for 10 fucking years.”

The tongue he just accused of bringing him pain jutted out to show him pleasure, stroking over his kissable lips.

“You don’t want me with my mouth closed, Bridgerton.”

“I don’t know,” he teased. “A little peace and quiet might be a nice change.”

“No,” you said, shaking your head. His pupils blew wide when you dropped to your knees in front of him. “You want my mouth wide open, baby. If you want me to shut up, then fucking make me.”

His fingers threaded into your hair yanking your head back to force your attention on his face.

“You are such a fucking brat. You’re practically begging for someone to teach you a lesson. Is that what you want? Do you want to learn your lesson?”

With all the innocence you could muster, you challenged him one last time.

“I’m an exemplary student. I’m hungry for knowledge, sir. Practically ravenous.”

If he was holding on to his restraint before, it was all gone now. His fingers tightened in your hair, sending a pulsing need to your attention hungry cunt.

“Take my dick out and stick out your tongue. I’m going to fuck that pretty face until you’re crying all over my lap. How does that sound? Do you want to choke on this cock for me?”

A whimpered “fuck” left your lips when he sprang free in front of you. You couldn’t think of anything you wanted more right now than to take him down your throat until he was a mindless mess. Licking your hungry lips, you leaned forward eagerly for a taste, but he pulled you back again.

“I asked you a question. Run that mouth one more time and answer me.”

“Yes,” you nodded enthusiastically. “Please, Anthony. I want to choke on your cock. I want to learn my lesson.”

A visible shudder ran through him at your confession.

“Good-fucking- girl. Give me your tongue.”

For once, you obeyed without protest. If you didn’t taste him soon you might actually die.

His hand guided the warm head of his dick along your waiting tongue. His hissed breath matched your rising desire, and you moaned in pleasure. You needed more. What was he waiting for?

“Any day now, Bridgerton.” Antagonizing him was second nature at this point.

With one exasperated thrust, he slid into your mouth effectively cutting off your air supply. His quick, deep pumps had you gulping around his length. Your eyes were already streaming down your face. The fuzzy, euphoric feeling of oxygen deprivation was starting to dance behind your eyes. Your lungs burned with the need to inhale but there was not a chance in hell that you would stop this.

His needy, frantic movements were setting your blood on fire. Your imagination never could have conjured the sounds rumbling from his throat. If this is how you died, you would do so proudly and with a smile on your face. Your tombstone would be emblazoned with bold lettering that you died doing what you were made to do – choking on Anthony Bridgerton’s perfect dick.

Just when you feared that you would have to admit defeat and beg him for mercy, he pulled free from your greedy mouth leaving you a saliva-soaked mess. His labored breathing was going to be your undoing. Getting a rise out of Anthony Bridgerton had always been your preferred pastime, but this way by far your favorite way to do it.

“Is this what you wanted,” he asked. “Do you think you’ve learned your lesson yet?”

You smiled up at him, eager to poke the bear at every turn.

“Nope…” you said, popping the p in a way you knew would annoy him. “You’re a shit teacher, Bridgerton.”

Fire ignited in his rich brown eyes and your pussy all but cried out for help. The promise that one look held was enough to have you clenching around nothing, wishing he was buried inside you.

You let out a groan of satisfaction when he slapped his cock across your face.

“Did I say you could put your tongue away? Stick it back out and leave it there. I won’t tell you again.”

Desperate to taste him again, you did as you were told. He quickly rewarded your obedience with more slaps along your tongue. It was so dirty and debasing, but you loved every minute of it.

His leaking tip was smearing the salty promise of his relief all over your tastebuds. You almost came on the spot when he spit in your open mouth, coating himself thoroughly on your outstretched tongue.

“Wrap your pretty lips around my cock and swallow that.”

For fuck’s sake! You actually might not survive this.

“That’s my good girl,” he praised. “Look how gorgeous you are when you’re doing what you’re told. Now put your hands on my thighs and hold tight. I’m going to ruin all your pretty makeup.”

Before you even had a chance to brace yourself, he was pumping back into your mouth at a relentless pace. It didn’t take him long to find a pattern that was pushing him towards the edge of his release. After a torturous onslaught of punishing thrusts, he rewarded you by holding you down on himself, burying your nose into the hair at the base of his shaft. The scent of him there was blindingly erotic, and you wanted to cover yourself in it. When he thought you had earned a breath, he would drag you off him and leave you gasping for air before starting the pattern over again.

The pressure building at the apex of your thighs was maddening. Removing one of your hands from his thigh, you reached down to ease the aching. No sooner had you moaned in pleasure around his cock did he take it away from you. You instantly felt bereft at his absence.

“Put that hand back on my thigh. I didn’t say you were allowed to touch yourself. That pussy is mine. It’s mine to touch, mine to lick, and mine to fuck.”

Your brain wanted to be obstinate, but your pussy – she wanted to be owned.

But old habits die hard. When he pushed himself back over your tongue, you scraped your teeth along his shaft in warning. It was enough to do damage, but it definitely got his attention.

Sometimes being a brat pays in spades.

Two strong arms snaked around your waist and hauled you to your feet. The abruptness elicited a surprised yelp from you, and you found yourself splayed out face down over the cool surface of the conference table.

His hands found the slit in your tight pencil skirt and ripped upward until the fabric gave way and your panty clad ass was on full display to the room.

The heat from his toned body and his sinful scent invaded all your senses when he folded himself along your back to growl into your ear.

“Why do you insist on testing me?”

Honesty was the only way you could respond.

“Because you’re the only one I’ve found who can handle the challenge. I love that you’re always willing to play with me, Anthony.”

Your hips started to push back into him involuntarily. There was so little separating your neglected, needy cunt from the one thing it wanted most. The tantalizing friction that his rigid erection provided, along with his deep throaty growl was enough to spur you on.

“Come on, Bridgerton. Give it to me. You know you want to.”

“You don’t deserve it after the stunt you just pulled. Only good girls get fucked when they need it.”

You couldn’t help but goad him. “Well, what do obstinate little bitches deserve? I’ve earned my punishment, Ant. Now fucking give it to me before I find someone else to do it for you.”

His leg pushed open your thighs apart even wider leaving you open and vulnerable. It also prevented your throbbing clit from finding even a modicum of relief. The force he used to drag your soaked panties down the ground had your heart racing all over again. You needed him to fuck you into this table until you couldn’t see straight.

His control was slipping again. It wouldn’t take much more to push him past his limit. If you really wanted to, you could have him pounding you with one strategically worded sentence.

As much as you wanted that, you enjoyed your game. You wanted to see what he’d do when left to his own devices.

You screamed, first in shock, and then in pleasure, when his hand smacked against the skin of your ass.

“Fuccckkkkk,” he groaned. “You filthy little whore. You liked that. I can see that hungry, perfect pussy searching for my cock. You’re dripping down your legs, baby.”

Something about the tone of his voice when he called you baby had your heart misbehaving in your chest. It sounded almost reverent. Like he was proud of you for how much your body begged for him.

“Count and tell me you’re sorry,” he instructed.

“One,” you complied. “I’m sorry, Anthony.”

“Tell me why you’re sorry.” His tone was an order.

“I’m sorry you weren’t man enough to handle a little scrape of my teeth.” The rush you got from needling him was unparalleled.

The next blow was even harder than the last and had you lifting onto your toes. If he thought this was a punishment, he was sorely mistaken. You could easily become addicted to his discipline.

“Two,” you moaned. “I’m sorry, Anthony.”

“Tell me why.” The strain in his voice was a dead giveaway to his level of need.

“I’m sorry I embarrassed in front of the boys today. They probably don’t respect you now.”

That earned you a smack right across your dripping core. It was the perfect mixture of pleasure and pain. You felt like you could pass out from the adrenaline rushing through your system.

He asked you again and again why you were sorry, and each time you provoked him a little more. Your entire backside burned with the memories of the sensations his hands had left on you.

He asked you a final time.

“Why are you sorry, baby? Be honest.”

“Honestly,” you paused, braving your next words. “I’m not sorry. Not even a little bit. We should have done this a long time ago.”

One big hand curled around your throat and lifted your back to his front. His lips crashed into yours for a searing kiss. His other hand slid down your stomach and pressed into your clit with the perfect pressure. His fingers circled you as you moaned into mouth.

“Anthony,” you cried. “Please, fuck me. I need you. I can’t take it anymore.”

His body pushed yours back down to the tabletop and with one swift movement he was buried to the hilt. The stretch was exquisite. How had you gone so long without knowing the feeling of his cock moving inside you? That had to be some sort of crime against humanity.

You were both too far gone. It was impossible to savor it. It was quick, filthy, and hurt in the best way possible. His hips drove you so hard into the edge of the table that the bruises were likely already forming. The sounds the two of you made together were obscene. Skin slapping against skin. The desperate protest your wet heat made when he left your body for a fraction of a second and the whimpered thank you it made when you clutched him back into you.

His voice was the thing that truly sealed your fate. He was vocal and he wasn’t shy about it. His groans. His curses. His generous praise. He left no room for doubt. You were bringing him pleasure and he was lost to the euphoria.

“Fuck! Oh, fuck…” he hissed. “I’m gonna come. Come for me baby. Milk this cock with your tight little cunt.”

As if on command, you could feel the orgasm begin to swell. Your muscles clamped down on him, holding him prisoner inside you. You pulsed around him, and you could feel him get impossibly stiffer as he spilled himself into you.

“Yes. Yessss,” he cried out. “That’s it baby. Ride it out. I’m right there with you. You feel so fucking good.”

Breathing was hard, and your legs were seconds away from giving out on you. You winced at the pain when he pulled from your body. His release trying to follow suit, dripping down your thighs. You were a fucking mess.

His fingers collected your combined orgasms, pushing it back inside.

“Ah, ah, ah,” he tutted. “You’re going to keep all of my cum right where it belongs. I���m claiming this fucking cunt, baby.”

His fingers moved from your core to your lips. They were slicked with the evidence of what the two of you had just done.

“Suck,” he ordered.

You were done fighting him. At least for today.

Opening wide, you sucked his fingers into your mouth and tasted the two of you together on your tongue. A little hum of pleasure was all you could express. He had well and truly fucked you.

“Good girl.”

He straightened your body, righting your clothes and wiping the hair back from your sweaty face.

“Don’t move. Stay just like that.”

He moved away from you, gathering something from the other end of the table. When he reappeared at your side, it was with his phone. He pulled the camera up to snap a photo of your sex drunk face and then lifted your skirt again to document the damage he did to your ass.

“You look perfect. Absolutely wrecked.” He turned the phone to show you the picture.

He was right about the wrecked part. Your mascara was streaked all down your face, and your lips were swollen and red from the rough assault he made on your mouth. And you had the matching red hand shaped wilts on your ass cheeks to go with it.

“You’re welcome,” you teased.

“For what, exactly?” He was trying and failing to hide his smile

“I told you I could suck the stress out of you. You look much more relaxed now. Borderline happy even. It’s kind of creeping me out.”

His next words took you by surprise.

“Thank you.”

A loud buzz sounded and Jeaninne’s voice filtered into the room.

“Mr. Bridgerton… Your clothes have arrived, and your lunch is waiting for you in your office. I ordered your favorite.”

You couldn’t help the eyeroll as you continued to button your top.

“Thank you, Jeaninne. You’re the best.”

“You’re shameless,” you accused

“What,” he shrugged. “I like to see how often I can make her blush.”

You huffed in disapproval. The poor girl was probably in love with him.

“Can I ask you something?”

You turned to look him in the face at his sudden change of tone.

“Sure,” you replied. “Ask away.”

“Do you respect me?”

You eyed him in shock. That look of vulnerability was back and you loathed it.

“Is this about what I said earlier? About me embarrassing you in front of your team?”

His silence was the only answer you needed.

“Do I seem like the type of woman who would put your cock in my mouth if I didn’t respect you?”

“No, you don’t.”

“Good.”

You gathered your briefcase and strode towards the door. You only stopped at the sound of his voice.

“I respect you, too.”

“I know,” you smiled. “You wouldn’t play so well with me if you didn’t. Get your shit together, Bridgerton. I’ll see you first thing Monday morning with revised contracts. I’m sure Morrison is chomping at the bit to get this settled after your little pissing contest today.”

Your hand was on the doorknob when he spoke again.

“You want to respect each other again next week?”

You shot him a playful wink before sauntering out of the room. You would most definitely be respecting the hell out of him as soon as humanly possible.

If you were lucky, maybe you could get him to respect you a little less.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@eleanor-bradstreet @faye-tale @musicismyoxygen84 @heeyyyou @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @queenofmean14

[listofwhyyouloveher]

can u do the greasers gf where shes short and she has to climb countertops , ask her greaser bf to get her something she cant reach

Summary: The Outsiders x Short!Reader

Warnings: none

Author's Note: none

PONYBOY CURTIS

Pony's kinda short too, so you two can experience being small together

Although he can't get things from the top shelf for you through his height, he's really agile and lean so he can jump and get it

Finds it so cute and funny when you climb on top of counters or ask him to get something for you

Always has a step stool for you to use around his house because he doesn't want to inconvenience you.

JOHNNY CADE

Johnny's relatively tall and so he's used to getting things for other that they can't reach.

Luckily he loves you a lot and he's ready to do anything for you, so you barely have to call out his name before he's helping you get something high up

Likes feeling depended on so he'll remove any step stools/ladders around his place so you can ask for him instead

Likes to tease you and pretend he doesn't know what you're asking of him, like "do you want that one? Ohhhh, that one?? No?!" He knows what you want but he likes teasing you.

SODAPOP CURTIS

Sodapop is a fucking flirt, he will make your life harder because your so short compared to him

Likes to make your height difference known by leaning on you, picking you up or pretending like he can't see you

At the end of the day though he finds you being short so cute and adorable and loves doing things to help you

Asks you to get things from the high shelves for him because he likes seeing you get all frustrated because he thinks it's cute.

STEVE RANDLE

Steve calls you his "personal arm rest" as a joke because he loves to lean on your head because you're so tiny.

Tries to pick you up and carry you over anything that you have to climb or jump over even if you tell him you don't need it.

Loves cuddling with you because you're the little spoon and he gets to give you big hugs while you sleep

Tries to make everything accessible for you but likes to indulge in his teasing once in a while and watch you struggle to get something for a bit before stepping in.

TWO-BIT MATHEWS

Two is a really amazing lover in the sense that if your his girl he's taken into account anything that might cause you an issue.

He's already pulled things you'd need onto a lower shelf and has a stepping stool in an easy to spot area.

That doesn't mean he won't crack a joke or two at you expense, they're never too serious and always end in a "love you even though youre tiny" or something like that

Can't get enough of you, always a hand conveniently resting on your shoulder or head because he really wants to be close to you

DARRY CURTIS

Darry loves having a short girlfriend because he finds it really cute and refreshing from the greaser girls always in high heels to appear taller

If you need to get something down from the high shelves, instead of getting it for you, he'll pick you up to let you grab it. They don't call Darry "Superhero" for no reason.

Likes how you're mature even if you look cute and small, it helps that he doesn't have another kid to take care of and instead a mature partner that could help him

He'll always protect you, doesn't matter if it's cussing out a greaser for trying to put a move on you or beating a soc that jumped you

DALLAS WINSTON

Dallas likes girls that can stick up for themselves and look good, so if you're innocent looking with a lot of spunk, he's already got an eye on you

Doesn't care to help you get things from tall shelves because it doesn't bother him that you struggle a bi, he's helping you "build strength" or smth

Every once and a while he'll help you get something and he basks in the praise you shower onto him, so he secretly puts more things on the top shelf.

It's good that you're not taller than him because he's not super tall himself and you don't want him to feel emasculated (God forbid 🙄)

[soft-mafia]

Very Wrong Place, and VERY Wrong Time

warnings: nsfw, oc insert, fem reader, smut, VERY risky sex, established relationship, fingering, daddy kink, Buggy detaching his dick, kind of short, not really proof read

a/n: I’m backkkk I’ve finally came out of hibernation and burnout and I decided to whip up sometime spicy

Buggy still couldn’t believe that Y/n was on a lower level than he was. I mean, he was glad he hadn’t been freezing his butt off in level 5, but how was his girlfriend’s bounty higher than his?! What the hell did she even do?! It wasn’t fair, and frankly, emasculating. That all wouldn’t matter though as soon as they got out of here. Buggy was running up the staircase to level 2, with Y/n, and Mr. 3 in tow.

Galdino had to make one of his wax boxes for them to hide in until all of the beasts cleared out of the way.. which proved to be longer than initially thought. “Why the hell are they just sitting around?!” Buggy growled in a whisper, looking through a little peep hole. “We can wait until they’re asleep, then we can run.” Y/n suggested. “No way. That’s too risky, they’d wake up to a pin drop there’s no way all three of us are getting past them.” Mr. 3 replied.

“I can fight them off. I can keep them distracted while you two can run-” Y/n started, but Buggy quickly interjected.

“WHAT?! There’s no way in hell I’m letting you do that!” He growled, looking down at her. She furrowed her brows and squinted at him, “‘Letting’ me?”

He pressed his lips together, breaking a nervous sweat before looking back out through the peep hole, “Uh— let’s just wait for them to go away. There’s no harm in waiting, all of the guards are busy somewhere else anyway..” he gulped. Y/n sighed and leaned against the wax wall.

They had been sitting there for what seemed like forever. Galdino had taken a nap, Buggy was leaned against the wall, and Y/n rested on his chest, nestled between his legs. One hand rested on her waist while the other was gently brushing his fingers back and forth on her cheek, occasionally messing with her hair. It felt so nice to hold her in his arms after all of this mess, to have her cuddled up to him like the old times.

She moved her head up to rest against the crook of his neck, her hands coming up to rest on his chest. He swallowed quietly, perhaps he was a little pent up from being in this prison, or a bit frustrated from all of the bullshit he had to go through, but the way Y/n was rubbing up on him right now was making him antsy. He gently put his hand on her jaw and tilted her head up, placing a kiss on her lips, it was such a relief, like getting a sip of cold, fresh water after a good run. She looked up at him with her big eyes. “You ok, baby?” He asked quietly, softly, his words ghosting against her lips.

“Yeah.” She whispered back at him, hands moving up to hold his shoulders. “You’re so warm. I haven’t held you like this in so long..” He chuckled quietly, giving her another kiss, holding her jaw, his other hand moves lower down her body, down her hip, fingers moving into the hem of her pants, “Captain- not here.” Y/n whispered, looking over to where Galindo was napping. “Come on he’s sleeping!!” Buggy hissed, “Just a quickie, please!” He squeezed her hip, a pleading look in his eye.

“F-Fine.” Y/n bit her lip, moving back to straddle Buggy’s lap, she kissed Buggy’s bottom lip then looked back up at him, “Let’s hope he’s a heavy sleeper.”

Buggy grinned before pulling her in for a sloppy kiss, “Oh Y/n, you beautiful, beautiful girl.” He whispered, pulling her pants down below her hips along with her panties, “Be quiet for me?” He smirked. Y/n nodded and bit her bottom lip, watching Buggy detach his hand so his fingers could toy with her clit easily, she buried her face into his neck again to stifle her moans, whimpering against his skin, making him shutter and let out a soft breath, “Atta girl.” He kissed the side of her head, moving his fingers back and forth, his palm cupping over her pussy as he got her clit nice and wet, “Yeah, I know you’ve missed me.” He smirked, gently slapping her ass with his free hand, then rubbing soft circles around the area.

“Look at how wet you are for me, such a little slut, ready for my cock huh?” He teased, whispering in her ear as he continued to toy with her clit. Y/n let out a muffled whimper while grinding against Buggy’s finger, her hips moving on their own to get more pleasure, twitching and trembling. Buggy’s free hand moved to pull the hem of his pants down, low enough to where he could free his hard, throbbing cock, his thick blue pubic hair was a fluffy mess, “Gotta stay quiet for me, ok?” Buggy whispered to her again, before slowly guiding her hips onto his member.

Y/n had to squeeze her hand over her mouth to stifle her noises, his cock was thick, it had been so long since he’s fucked her she’s forgotten how girthy he was. Buggy grunted softly under his breath at the way she clenched around him on impact, “Shhh shh, relax.” He whispered, rubbing her back gently with one hand as he slowly eased her down to the base with the other, “There we go.” He grunted, then swiftly pulled Y/n’s hand away from her mouth so he could replace it with his lips.

As he moved her up and down on his cock, silently yet rhythmically, their lips molded together, sucking on the other like they were each other’s life support. Y/n’s hands slung around his shoulders, she moved her hips while bouncing on his cock.

He groaned quietly into the kiss, letting his penis detach so he could get deeper into her, hitting all of her sweet spots, letting her whimper into his mouth, “Fuck I missed this.” He growled into the kiss, giving her ass another gently slap, gripping onto her hips as he thrusted his cock deeper into her. “Ah..~ Captain..” Y/n moaned, their eyes locked for a moment before their lips locked again. Buggy had to make sure to keep her quiet, to make sure they could get away with this for as long as possible, but to also hurry it up to save himself from the embarrassment. His new friend wasn’t going to be napping forever, after all.

Buggy groaned, letting Y/n rest her head against his chest to stifle her noises while he leaned his head back and grit his teeth, picking up his speed, perfectly concealed within Y/n’s walls whenever he would thrust deep. He kept her steady, feeling her trembling and twitching beneath his grasp just urged him to keep going, the feeling of her trembling on his cock made him go crazy, closer to orgasm. “Captain.. I-I’m gonna cum.” She whispered breathily.

“Do it.” Buggy growled softly, commanding her to spill her juices on him, even though he loved her to bits, he was still her captain. Y/n arched her back, biting down on her bottom lip as she came, her walls clenching and fluttering around him, a sweet feeling between her legs as her pussy squeezed around his fat cock. Buggy smirked, that helpless look of orgasm on her face made him feel pride, he was really the only man who can ever see Y/n like this after all.

“That’s my girl, now let daddy do his work.” Buggy chuckled hoarsely, gripping her hips, his fingers gripping into her ass, he groaned deeply at the feeling as his cock moved in and out, he knew he had to be quick as he could hear the faint slapping noises grow louder. Y/n was still fluttering around him, still trembling on him, he grunted behind grit teeth as he tilted his head back again, beads of sweat running down his forehead and smearing his makeup.

He growled, then buried his mouth into the top of Y/n’s head to stifle a guttural grunt before releasing his thick load deep into Y/n’s pussy. They both panted heavily, Buggy was drenched in sweat and seeing stars. Y/n was leaning against him, still trembling, holding onto his slightly damp prison shirt, he smoothly pulled his cock out of Y/n and attached it back to his body, pulling up his pants shortly after. “Ahhh.. that felt so much better.” Buggy groaned, forgetting to whisper which led to Y/n quickly covering his mouth, pulling her pants up with her other hand, he did the same thing— although his hand was placed over top of Y/n’s.

“Shut up!! He’s still sleeping and we’re a fucking mess!” Y/n hissed at him, her cheeks still flushed from sex. “Sorry! Sorry!” Buggy croaked, his words muffled by her hand slapped over his mouth.

They both glanced over at Mr. 3, who was thankfully still asleep. They both sighed quietly in relief. Y/n fanned herself with her hand, “This is awful.. they had no showers here in the first place now I’m even more sticky thanks to you.” Y/n’s complaints couldn’t help but make Buggy chortle, he leaned back against the wax wall with his arms behind his head, tufts of fluffy blue pit hair peeking out from his torn sleeves, “Oh don’t be such a drama queen. I promise I’ll run you a cold little bath once we get back to the Big Top.” Y/n gently slapped him on the chest, “Put your arms down, your pits stink.” She frowned at him, putting a hand over her own face. “Don’t talk to me like that when you’re sitting there full of my cum you little brat!” Buggy snapped loudly, which earned a small groan from Galindo across the box.

Y/n and Buggy both turned to look at him with wide eyes as he stirred awake. “How long was I asleep? Are the beasts gone—“ he quickly covered his nose, “Buggy put your arms down, we’ve talked about this!!”

Buggy growled and sat up straight, “YOU GUYS ARE SERIOUSLY JERKS!!!!”

[thegoogoomuckkk]

in another life pt. 1 -> in another life, where would you two meet? -> kento nanami, kiyotaka ijichi, satoru gojo, shiu kong, suguru geto, sukuna ryomen

nanami wouldn’t consider himself a sensitive man, but he is methodical, traditional, & good at what he does. baking is so soothing to his poor head, overwhelmed with thoughts of the future, financial stability, how on earth he’s going to work up the courage to ask out his favorite regular customer. . .you know, important, crucial things. but that all melts away when he bakes: of course, bread is his favorite, but he’s capable of nearly anything, you imagine. he knows that you have a soft spot for his sweets, so each morning he arrives at his little café so, so, so early to provide a new freshly baked good for your choosing. scones, cupcakes, croissants, cheesecake bites. . .he’s a simple man, but for you, he’s imaginative, creative, loving. 

& when he does finally ask you out, of course you’re over the moon. he’s so stoic that you really couldn’t tell whether he liked you or if he was just being polite, but he clears the air on your first date, telling, or rather showing you how serious he is about his affections. to nanami, actions have always spoken louder than words. 

kiyotaka, in his heart & soul, cannot be anything but who he is, & that is a personal assistant. some men have aspirations to run companies, prosecute criminals, create laws, scam poor people out of money, etc. but not kiyotaka. he doesn’t find it emasculating in any way, he just is a subservient guy. he’s never more comfortable than when helping someone else. he loves a checklist, a set of goals, organization, all his pens in order of favorite to least favorite, a fresh legal pad on his desk each morning, errands to run, things to do. the chaos of it is oddly soothing to him. he’s one of those people that goes stir-crazy if there isn’t something to be doing constantly. he reads, he gardens, he takes care of a cat probably (a dog is just too irresponsible of him, at least that’s what he says, really he just loves cats). 

but you teach him the joy of slowing down, relaxing. “the world isn’t going to end if you take a day off of work, kiyo.” wow, he thinks. that thought had really never occurred to him. would it really be fine? probably not, but you have him convinced. not with his preferred method of logic & reason, no he’s far too head over heels for that. all you have to do is bat your lashes & smile & he’s putty in your hands. 

attention seeker 101. the world has to know satoru somehow, if not as the best sorcerer, then surely taking his clothes off will do the trick. satoru practically invented the term striptease. he’s a natural performer. think sleek designer suits, custom-made costumes, & perfectly tailored outfits that cling to his body just right before he dramatically sheds each layer. 

he’s lazy with it, too, not really pole dancing, not really doing the routine, just prancing around on stage, showing off. puts that stupid body glitter on ‘cause he always has to pull attention from anything & everyone else. gets upset when his regular clients don’t show up & tip him. never gets fully naked, at least not for free, & not in front of all these people. but if there happened to be a pretty girl who happened to want a private show, he happened to be willing to oblige. 

shiu is too good at his job, excelling in high-stakes situations, that’s his gig. poker games for the rich & famous. he’s so calm & cool no matter the tension at the table, probably hiding a gun somewhere in the perfectly fitting suit. he takes his role seriously & always dresses impeccably, whether it's in a sleek, tailored suit or classic casino dealer attire. he can always tell when a player is bluffing, always. 

he’s not looking for a relationship, but a friends-with-benefits situation with one of the cocktail waitresses is right up his alley. that little dress you wear—if you can even call it a dress—has him uncomfortably shifting his pants. right at the table, too, so unprofessional. probably makes you double date with toji & his girl of the week, then argues with toji for hitting on you, not only when you’re on the date, but right in front of toji’s girl. 

suguru is a scuzzy man who associates with other scuzzy men in order to get his scuzzy money. on the surface, suguru is the perfect politician—charming, eloquent, seemingly dedicated to the welfare of his constituents. has a vast network of informants who gather dirt on everyone around him. he knows every weakness, every secret, & every skeleton in the closet of his political opponents. loves making those cringey commercials degrading his opponent. ultimately, he’s the dirtiest politician, he believes idealism is futile. dark money & shady business is what geto deals in. but don’t worry, he keeps you safe from all of that. 

he is a master of shifting the blame; if & when something goes wrong, it’s never his fault, except for sex scandals. . .he welcomes those, if anything. especially yours. it’s not necessarily scandalous, but he is unabashed when it hits the news. 

sukuna will kick your ass, I know you’re surprised by that because he totally doesn’t give off those vibes at all, not in the slightest. that’s why he became a bouncer at some high-end club, because he is a nice, sweet guy that doesn’t haunt your martini-infused nightmares/wet dreams. hates the fake id kids, not ‘cause they’re drinking, but because they’re so fucking stupid. 

“really? 123 tokyo street, tokyo? you’re a fucking moron, get outta here.” 

sukuna doesn’t tolerate any kind of nonsense. if a fight breaks out or someone gets too rowdy, he’s quick to step in & settle things with minimal effort, in fact, he almost likes it when fights happen, gives him something to do besides checking id’s.. his intense gaze alone often stops arguments before they escalate, but if things get physical, he can easily throw someone out without breaking a sweat. sukuna may seem like he’s always brooding or annoyed, but he enjoys the control & authority of being a bouncer. he likes being the one in charge of keeping the peace—or rather, maintaining his version of peace. it’s a power play for him, & he thrives on it.

he’s not approachable, & yet that doesn’t stop you from approaching him. he’s not as easy as you hoped he’d be though; he’s hesitant to date someone from the bar he works at. it takes him quite a bit of convincing for him to even take you on a date, but once he does, he’s hooked. 

will I ever stop posting two part headcanons? no but pray that I will, for my sake did you like it? -> here's my masterlist -> want something more? ask me for it

[scorpioluvvr]

5 WAYS TO RECEIVE PRINCESS TREATMENT

1. Stop dating broke men

Rule #1. You cannot allow yourself to entertain men who do not have the means to provide for you AND your future children. Think of the life you want your kids to have, and if he cannot provide that then he gotta go. You’re getting your life together, achieving new goals, glowing up mentally & physically, and you mean to tell me you’re dating a man who cannot provide for you? You’re not serious about yourself if you’re willing to date a man who cannot give you the life you deserve.

2. Treat yourself like THE priority, always.

Too many times I see women especially young women putting their boyfriends first in relationships. This creates a lack of balance in the relationship, and causes the man to see you as pathetic for not putting yourself first. Men say that they want a women who puts them first but best believe they truly deeply desire a woman who is “selfish” and looks out for herself. This means you are NOT afraid to lose him. Letting a man know he’s replaceable will cause him to want to impress you more, resulting in him paying bills, buying gifts, expensive dinners etc.

3. Allow him to be in his masculine

A mans job is to protect and provide. Men are responsible for giving, while women receive. Not accepting help or making yourself seem too independent can turn a man off on wanting to take care of you. I’m not saying to not chase your goals and have your own bag, but don’t try to be the breadwinner in the relationship, because this will only emasculate him and make him resent you. This will ultimately lead to your unhappiness babe.

4. Vet These Men Properly

Whether you’re dating athletes, finance bros, entrepreneurs, ceos, etc, ALWAYS do your research. These men could have a whole wife, baby mama, or have been convicted of crimes. It’s so important to make sure you know exactly what you’re getting yourself into. Stalking his entire bloodline on Facebook or his LinkedIn does not make you crazy. IT MAKES YOU SMART. Whatever you find should give you a red light or green light to continue your relationship with him. Your wellbeing is most important no matter how rich he is.

5. Don’t Give It Up So Easily

We see this so often in today’s hookup culture. These high caliber men have options all around them. You think if you sleep with him it’s going to make him want you more? No ma’am. Sleeping with a man early will only make him see you as an easy catch. As soon as you open your legs you’re no longer someone worth pursuing, worth keeping, worth providing for. Make these men wait for your essence, and allow yourself to fully vet them before giving it up. Playing the long game will allow you to present yourself as worth being taken care of.

[alternative-ffa]

Just one step at a time..." you whispered to yourself. Walking had become difficult, but you refused to admit it. Your thick heavy belly pushed against your legs as you waddled. So each step was like lifting hundreds of pounds with each leg. A cane had become a necessity and you wondered if it was even helpful anymore - was it time to use a walker? Or even a wheelchair?

You had finally arrived at the side of your bed, panting in an effort to breathe. You knew you had to sit down. As you turned around to lower your huge fat rear onto the bed, the fat jiggled and swayed. You knew not to move too quickly or the momentum of your weight could topple you over. If that happened, who knows how long you would be trapped on the floor until someone found you?

The weight gain had been happening so quickly you were almost immobile. You never knew which steps would be your last. But you refused to accept it.

You sat on the side of your bed, catching your breath from the short walk back from the bathroom. Going to the bathroom was emasculating, you had to sit down to urinate. It had been a long time since you were able to even reach your penis, nevermind being able to see it.

What surprised you the most was your own lack of concern. You grew fatter and heavier every day - it was only a matter of time until you were trapped by your size, but you never saw that inevitability as a problem. It was just a fact that would eventually catch up with you.

Your stomach growled. Sitting on your bed, you reached down and firmly rubbed the fat of your stomach, trying to calm your hunger. But it did nothing. Grunting with effort you pressed the intercom button next to your bed. The fat of your neck and face muffled your voice as you spoke, "I'd like my lunch now, please."

An affirmative came from the voice on the other end of the intercom, and you sighed. You were unable to lay in bed by yourself, so you waited until help arrived. Granted, the help would also be arriving with enough food to satisfy your exceptional appetite. As you waited, your excitement grew. Your stomach growled angrier and angrier as the minutes passed. It hadn't been longer than ten minutes when your bedroom door opened and a three shelf rolling tray filled with plates of food arrived. You snapped in anger, "I'm starving, what took you so long?"

The servant bringing it in apologized, but didn't take the anger personally. You were always frustrated when you were hungry - it was never personal.

Holding yourself up in a sitting position on the side of the bed was difficult, and certainly not conducive to the gluttonous binge that was about to occur. The servant knew to help you lay down and raise the head of the massive bariatric bed so you were in a supportive sitting position. You hadn't even started to eat yet when a belch erupted - clearing air in your stomach to make room for the caloric foods you were about to consume.

Your daily binging was a private affair. You wanted to dive into the food, but waited until you were alone. Laying in your bed in a sitting position, the head of the raised mattress holding you up, you reached for a plate. It was one of many. You always began eating with utensils, and after multiple plates, ended with shoving as much food as you could down your throat with your hands. Eating caused pleasurable delirium, so you never minded how messy you got. The servants came and cleaned you up anyway. Plate after plate was forced down your throat. You moaned, grunted, and burped. It was an auditory affair as you succumbed to your gluttony.

An hour or so passed, your plates were empty. A loud belch echoed against the walls and you were covered in sauce and crumbs down your double chins and your breasts. The sauce dried in your chest hair as you waited for the servant to return to clean you.

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

request by @brokeaesthetic decided this was probs the best way to go about it 💓

collection of small blurbs for tangerine: reader with fear of spiders, reader pranking him, reader asking what ifs

collection of small blurbs for pietro: reader joking about his hoe phase

— TANGERINE.

wc. 196

People are often one to laugh over your irrational, almost silly fears. In most cases you’re brave - hard as rocks, but the moment you see one of eight-legged insects scatter across your way, you’re out of there. It doesn’t matter how big or small they are, a spider is a spider and you don’t wanna see it.  You’d find yourself calling for your boyfriend, calling in your knight to catch it for you. You hated them, but you’d never kill them. It’s not their fault they’re scary. You’d almost always be out of the room, lingering in the hallway as Tangerine finds and catches the spider in a glass. You would talk to him through the door, pestering with questions - asking if he caught it yet.  He knew never to show you, to only tip the cup out of the window or door - or if it were a spider too large, he’d be keen to take it to the furthest point in the garden, making sure it couldn’t get back in.  Though, he does like it when you need him. He likes to feel needed, even if it’s just to collect a harmless tiny little thing.

wc. 240

Annoying Tangerine was fun, it was easy. Almost anything could piss him off, and often, it was hard not to piss him off. Anything could make him tick, it was just the matter of what way you were going to do it.  In the past, you’d choose to add salt to his tea instead of sugar, or draw on him during the night - often opting for a black, felt-tip goatee or penned, handlebar attachments to his moustache. Sometimes, if you really wanted to annoy him, you’d share how the bikini wax you got earlier that day was from a male cosmetologist. And he’d fall for it every time. But the one that would tick him off most, is when you spoke to him like you were a guy, hitting on him in the crudest ways you could think of.  If he were minding his business, eating a banana while doing work bits on his laptop, you’d always, always say, “what that mouth do, ma?” It was simple, but it never failed to crack you up. Another favourite of yours is to fake bang him when his back is to you, rubbing up on him from behind while you whisper some whacky obscenities.  He’d push you off, calling you a, “fucking freak.” But you wouldn’t let him get the last word because before you let go, you’d call him your good girl, slapping his ass as if to emasculate him further.

wc. 210

Sometimes at night, you’d struggle to sleep - many thoughts swirling your mind. The deep, existential ones were common, but you were far more acquainted with the pestering, silly ones. Random little what if’s popping up. Tangerine would be beside you in bed, settled and almost asleep when you break the silence, asking questions as if there were no filter. Anything ranging from, “Would we still date if we didn’t meet when we did?” or “What if there was a house fire. What would you save first? Like what object or thing would you save?” Often opting to the extremes, like, “If you woke up one day and I wasn’t here, what would you do?” or, “What if I suddenly went deaf and blind, what would you do?” To him, these were silly, pointless questions that are a result of no sleep - but he could always tell they’d mean something to you. Even if it was a stupid thought. So he’d scooch closer to hug you under the covers, soothing over your skin as he sleepily whispers to you - telling you those things will never happen, and that he’d love you no matter what happened to you. Always being sure to punctuate it with the emphasis that you need to rest.

PIETRO.

wc. 430

It was no secret Pietro had been around. His staggering charm and good looks coming to play when it came to bedding women. In other words, he used to be a whore. A few days ago, you and Pietro were in the discussion of what you both used to be like before meeting one another. You chatted and shared stories of your past lives, and upon hearing one of his encounters, you learnt something new about yourself - realising how quick you are to feel envy and jealousy. He shared how he used to have multiple hook ups a day, describing how he’d meet one in the noon, and then a couple girls together at nighttime. It was like he was finding humour in it, laughing about how much of a slut he was. But you were struggling to find anything funny about his stories and it actually pissed you off more than anything. Possessive and territorial - even though you didn’t know him those years ago. So to retaliate, you told him your exaggerated body count, sharing lies of how every day in the month of September, you slept with a new person - telling him in detail the encounters of these strangers. It was all lies, but it helped with the strikes of jealousy you were feeling.  And so today, he pulled you aside, a quizzical look on his face as approached the topic running rampant in his mind.  “You uh–” he starts, a small chuckle escaping as if to release the nerves. “The other day…” he prompts, waiting for you to give him something. “Yeah,” you nod, also waiting for him to give you something - you had no idea what he meant. He rubs the back of his neck like he was stalling, as if he was having a hard time getting the words out. “When we were sharing stories. Was yours true?” You laugh, caught by surprise. You wildly shake your head ‘no’, unable to stop yourself from the amusement. “God, no,” you pause. “Dude, you pissed me off so I lied.” He chuckles, mirroring you. “I pissed you off?” “Yes. So bad,” you hum, emphasising with a stern nod. “Talking about all those girls– you really bothered me, man.” “Aw,” he playfully coos, the sound almost like he was mocking you. “You got jealous?” he teases, a sly smile slapped across his face. “Shut up,” you fight off a grin, pushing him away when he tries to kiss you. “Get away. You probably have chlamydia.” “Yeah, I caught it from you after you slept with all those people.”