#protect women of colour
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Excuse me WHAT
Why the hell wasn't this trending?!
#it's so important#afganistan#protect afganistan women#I only found out because a MEME tg channel posted a screenshot about it#misogyny#btw if anyone reblog/comments saying something Islamophobic then you will be blocked#women rights#human rights#feminism#protect women#protect women of colour#human rights violations
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true feminism will continue to include trans women and women of colour rather you like it or not btw
there will always be people advocating and fighting for those you don’t think deserve it btw
you can’t erase years of history and actual science just because you don’t like it btw
your transphobia won’t stop people from transitioning btw
#rat drops the mic#feminism#actual feminism#protect trans women#protect women of colour#have a backbone and actually fight for your community#do some research into what trans women and woc have done for feminism#put some fucking respect on trans women and women of colour#you fucking freak
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It’s always astonishing to me that we trans people are called every grotesque name in the book, but the terfs and people who hate us want to look down everyone’s underwear (including children!!!) to justify and confirm for themselves what is in there. WTF is wrong with those people??
YES MA’AM!
#fuck terfs#leave trans people alone#protect trans lives#protect trans children#stop demanding to look down everyone's underwear you absolute psychos#protect women of colour
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I think it's interesting that Kazui, Mr "My Father wanted me to be a Strong Man" is the only prisoner so far who's Es cover thumbnail is just the different shades of a solid colour.
Yes, blue is the colour of his prison uniform, but I also don't think its a coincidence that they chose the blue = boy colour for our guy over here.
On a similar vein, I think it's interesting how Yuno's two colours are Blue and Pink, especially with their specific placements
The Pink part of Yuno is her Body, which makes sense seeing as that's what her (male) clients are paying for, not Yuno, but the Body and Personality that they enjoy - whether that be for sex or for dates or both.
The Blue part of Yuno is her Brain, aka: where the real Yuno lies. The Yuno that says lines in Teardrop like:
“Poor naive little girl”? So off the mark, what's it to you?"
"INNOCENT? I'm so not that."
It makes me think that the reason why Kazui only has the one colour is because, while the thought of acting different is there - his "dreams" - he feels like they could never be reality, it's not even an option to him, therefore it isn't shown. Only his traditional man facade is there
#does this make sense i hope it makes sense#im playing mister obvious here i think and im aware but look okay i just wanna share my discovery because i rlly like 0207 parallels ...#mars when gender roles in society and the consequences they have on people#i didnt mention but yeah i think the pink = girl colour being yuno's prison colour is also not a coincidence at all#like her name litteraly translates to gentle (and honest) but like!!! thats litteraly why they chose pink as a girl colour in the 1940s#because they viewed pink as a delicate (gentle) colour which suited their “dainty women that need to be protected” idealogy#milgram#kazui mukuhara#yuno kashiki#milgram analysis#i think it counts
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sorry for art-class-critique-posting again but one thing thats been very fascinating to see from my classmates and especially from my professors is this like, usually implicit but occasional explicit assertion that a lot of the artistic techniques, styles, and practices i happen to do (such as quick, unblended brushstrokes, paint drips, etc) are inherently "masculine". i personally am secure and comfortable with myself as a gender nonconforming woman so it doesnt affect me one way or the other much but i also can't help but feel like.......... do you think maybe the reason you dont see as many young woman art students doing these techniques might be because they feel a bit insecure or uncomfortable having their womanhood called into question just because they were a little more aggressive with their brushstrokes? of course abstract expressionism and movements of its ilk where boys clubs (as were most artistic movements in the history of time) and theres a lot to unpack with that but i dont think leaning into the idea that women only paint neatly with careful paint blending and soft colours is the way to go about this.........
#its an interesting bias i dunno. im not mad or anything but i feel like its a bit of an internalized misogynistic ideal that like#well i guess its been around since like. the dawn of art history as a field. but like these boxes put around women artists#i think its a little bizarre in the year of our lord 2024. i feel like a girl power childrens cartoon from 2004 having to be like#women can do anything a man can do you know.......... they can be any sort of way...... like i thought we knew this.....#its fascinating. my professor joked that keeping all your old sketchbooks is a thing men artists do? mostly as a joke about her husband#which is fine but it was also a bit of shrimp colours to me. shrimp artist gender expectations#i dont think my gender has a lot to do with old sketchbook hoarding habits. i keep mine because I Will Forget Everything otherwise#although i also think everyone should keep all their old sketchbooks forever if they can and its safe to do so#but thats a separate opinion LOL its a bizarre world out there. like i said im just a gnc woman but so often i feel like one of those like#thirst trap vine boys biting my lip and holding up a sign saying STOP MISOGYNY#i need to protect women (runs into heavy traffic) type situation i find myself in every day <3
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ive seen people say that the only reason people care about this is that it happened to someone white, and beyond the fact that this is bullshit and ignoring all the facts that actually transmisogyny is a serious issue and that countless trans women have been deleted without anyone giving a shit even when tumblr is like their only access point to any sort of community because news flash trans girls are pushed out of real life spaces even more brutally till they only have onlines spaces which they are still harrassed in, clearly you see how the fact that the ceo of this website is personally doing this changes it's character. like no one gave a shit about the months of harassment that predated this but let's be real the only reason the vast majority of people care (because i have already seen shit where people are saying 'well she was problematic so she deserved it') is because of the fact that the fucking ceo of this site is repeatedly publicly digging himself into this hole. if she was silently deleted no one but some trans women would give a shit and no one would give a shit about the months of harassment. it's just so fucking cynical to go "well people only care because she's white" because they fucking don't. like fuck off
#transmisogyny#this is a mess but fuck off#like her being white matters of fucking course it does#but be serious if you think that's the only reason people give a shit#because that's bullshit#hell i even think the only reason the ceo went so far and so personally is because she's white#but like come on you are not protecting trans women of colour by going well actually she sucks and is white lol
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Marjut Rimminen, {1987} Some Protection
#film#gif#marjut rimminen#some protection#1987#female filmmakers#short film#animation#photos in films#documentary#people#women#1980s#colour#drawn animation#uk#neon lights
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men who use white women as an excuse to make misogynistic jokes/comments. kys
#ameera speaks#theres a line between men of colour who are commenting on how white women use their whiteness to oppress them#and if you read this and conclude that THATS what im talking about youre intentionally reading this in bad faith and idk what to tell u#theres nothinf a 'male feminist' enjoys more than shittinf on white women. not making any actual commentary of how their whiteness is a f#factor in their behaviour but instead they use white to protect themselves from backlash#t/rfs do not touch#i saw a video of a white woman speaking punjabi and in the comments were brown men 'why even bother marrying a brown girl'#and ive decided im tired of men forcing us to compete with eachother and im tired taking the bait#i hope the men that commented that die and i hope the woman in the video has an amazing life#obvs this does not include racist white women. et etc erc i cba type out a full terms and conditions for this#ik other people may disagree but me personally im more comfortable woth white women than i am pakistani men and thats not insignificant
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I am triggered by mothers day. Annually. It's my shit to work on my peeps. We do not need to cancel mothers' day or keep it out of public places and never again discuss it because someone MIGHT be triggered by it.
Someone might be triggered by dogs, does that mean we ban people with service animals from communal therapy spaces? No. No we don't. We don't even have special dog free ones because THOSE PEOPLE HAVE A RIGHT TO BE THERE.
We can accommodate people more privately who have allergies and phobias, but those people DO NOT have the right to demand others be denied access. We had this talk about 'but what if lesbians make women uncomfortable' a few decades back and before that it was racial. The answer is you work on it. We do not deny access to people who would otherwise be fine being there because someone is uncomfortable. Even extremely so.
Women are not in need of coddling against anyone not confirming to someone's ideal of women's gender expression. Do not be ridiculous.
you know i think i’ve come to the conclusion that the answer to “but what if a cis woman is traumatized by men/male presenting people/whatever?” irt safe spaces is this: if you can’t be in the same room with someone you assume to be male or a man without feeling triggered, it probably means you have a lot more solo therapy and healing to do before relying on group therapy or other communal healing.
because how do you decide who gets to stay and who gets kicked out based on a cis woman’s trauma response? is it based on appearance? should intersex women with facial hair not be allowed because beards are triggering? should butches and studs not be allowed because masculinity is triggering? should talk broad shouldered trans women who don’t want to voice train not be allowed because low voices are triggering? is it based on identity? should a pre transition trans man who came out two days ago not be allowed because he’s a man? is a nonbinary person with a full beard and deep voice allowed because they are not a man?
because if you base your entire set of rules for who’s not allowed in the safe space on what makes cis women uncomfortable or triggers them, you’ve just made that space unsafe for trans people. and you need to decide if you’re ready to own that.
#please stop being ridiculous#it's really not something we should be pretending is reasonable to demand#because it isn't#apparently cis women are so delicate we must be protected from facial hair wide shoulders and small breasts#because ooooooh scary#and thats justification for denying people the right to be places#lgbtqia#lgbt#my mother is flat as a board#and I have a small beard#on my face not the other kind#and somehow women of colour are told they look trans more often than white women#wonder why that is#that was sarcasm by the by#and yes butch lesbians ate being harrassed about being in women's spaces again#stop speculating about other people's genders and sex#youre bad at it and it changes nothing#bioessentialism is pseudoscience
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The most radical/metal insult of all time (tw):
"There is nothing that will from your mouth in life that is as nourishing as your corpse."
... 🙄
#anti fascism#anti capitalism#fuck trump#fuck elon#protect women#protect trans kids#protect people of colour#protect the poor
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#phonecase#mahjong#colourful#chinese style#funny#protective#iphonecase#silicone#white#cute#girl#boy#3d#women#men#Cover
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Girls of colour and trans girls are called "women" when they're kids because they are seen as dangerous adults fully capable of understanding harm and therefore deserving of harsh adult treatment and sentencing
Men of colour and trans men are called "boys" as a process of infantilization. They are seen as being too stupid to make their own decisions and incapable of being true adults. [MOC are ALSO called men just as much, in order to diminish the harm they've faced (calling a black 15 year old a man) and to frame them as adults who deserve a harsh sentence.][Trans boys are ALSO called men in order to frame them as dangerous and predatory adults.]
White cis men get called boys to diminish the harm they've caused - this wasn't a 24 year old who knew what they were doing, he was just a little boy. Boys will be boys!
White cis women get called girls in order to frame them as more innocent and in need of protection, and also to frame them (and, often, other women) as being so young and stupid that they require adult male supervision.
Nonbinary adults are framed as whatever fits the narrative most in that moment: dangerous adult man, or silly little girl.
EDIT: this is by no means a comprehensive list of how gendered words are politically used against different groups of people. This is a small list. Women are also called men, and men are called women, for various reasons, including to demean them, to discredit them, or to paint this as dangerous. This is not meant to be a whole list, and in fact leaves out several key aspects of how gendered words are discursively used. If I were to write a comprehensive list and explanations it would be a whole book.
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the category of “woman” has since its inception been bound up in fundamentally racial, cissexual, and class terms. “Woman” has never once been a category that all women belonged to, not because they aren’t “actually” women but because gender is a structure that mediates access to personhood, and being granted personhood has historically been a privilege reserved for the very few (white, bourgeois, cis-heterosexual, perisex, etc). JKR is not being a hypocrite by saying, on the one hand, that she wants to “protect women,” and then on the other attacks women of colour, trans women, intersex women, and so on. she is participating in the centuries-old Western tradition of policing the boundaries of gender and thus who gets counted as human. expressing incredulity at this supposed hypocrisy is just revealing that you have not engaged with even introductory level writing on the subject, which is why the charge of hypocrisy is not only unhelpful but actively obfuscates the oppressive structure of gender
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Secret Talents | Arcane Women
Request for arcane women discovering you have a hidden talent.
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characters: ambessa, caitlyn, grayson, mel, sevika, vi
cw: Ambessa's is suggestive
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Ambessa Medarda - Dancing
She's sitting there in her chair, eyes fixed on you as your body moves to the music Ambessa picked specifically for you. You take care in each movement. The extensions of your arms and legs draw her in. She has a drink in one hand as the other, empty hand awaits your approach. Her eyes scan your body as you walk towards her, gaze lingering on your hips. When you had agreed to give her a lap dance, she had no idea how enticing you would be.
You kick a leg over her lap, body rolling directly in her face, and you see her hand twitch with eagerness. She keeps her hand at her side though, giving you time to work before she completely loses her patience.
“You didn't tell me you could move like this. I'm impressed. Should we test how flexible you really are?”
✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Caitlyn Kiramman - Sewing
Caitlyn comes to see you after training, muttering to herself about the noticeable tear in her trousers. You wait until she removes the trousers and asks her to pass them over to you while she changes into pyjamas. You reach under the bed for your sewing kit and find the right thread colour. Caitlyn joins you in bed, curious as to what you're doing. When she sees that you're sewing up the hole for her, it warms her heart. It's oddly domestic and makes you feel like an old couple that's been doing this for years.
She's quiet as she watches you work, wondering where you learned such a skill. You pass her fixed trousers back over, telling her they're good as new, and she checks your work, thoroughly impressed.
“This is pretty good. How long have you been sewing? I've got a ton more clothes you can fix for me.”
✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Grayson - Puzzle Solving
Being married, Grayson enjoys having some kind of domestic peace. A cozy break from her dangerous job. When she comes home from a rough day to see you sitting at the kitchen table, whizzing through a puzzle book, she feels a protective instinct bubble in her stomach. She wishes she could frame this moment and keep it forever.
She leans over your shoulder, watching as you clear through a page of riddles. You get the answers faster than she could've thought, and she admires your deduction method that you messily jot down in the empty spaces. Your intelligence is a trait of yours that she values highly.
“You should come and work for me. Your brain is incredible, you know that?”
Mel Medarda - Piano
Mel is a fan of the arts, whether it be musical, theatrical, literary or visual. When she finds a book of sheet music among your belongings, she asks you to play for her. She leans on the piano, watching as you play for her. The focused look on your face is adorable, and the natural way your hands move among the keys is enchanting. Your musical talents fuel her own creativity.
Mel asks you to play for her while she paints. Knowing you're playing for her inspires some of her art pieces. If you ever want to pursue music professionally, you have her full support. Until then, your music will stay her sole artistic muse.
“Can you play that piece again? It's my favourite. It reminds me of us.”
✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Sevika - Singing
Sevika's got a soft spot for you. She catches you singing when you think you're alone and stays until the final note. She makes sure you can't see her at first. Then, she makes herself known when you're finished. She lets you know how much she likes your voice. It's like a moment of peace for her.
She asks you to sing for her when you're alone after a rough day. Your voice is like a warm blanket over her. She doesn't want anyone else to hear you though. She's selfish and wants to keep you all to herself.
“You're like my personal little songbird.”
✩♬ ₊˚.✂️⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Vi - Art
She finds a sketchbook of yours with cute doodles in it and asks you to replicate the designs on her gauntlets. She keeps any pieces of paper, folded napkins or fabric that you happen to scribble on. When it comes to more serious and larger pieces, she's relatively well-behaved. She watches you work, uncharacteristically quiet, as she focuses on your movements. She struggles to shut her mouth sometimes, but she really likes seeing your final products, so she behaves.
She brags about your talents and shows off what she's kept of yours. She wants everyone to see how amazingly gifted you are. Anything she finds that has an indicator of your drawing makes it into her personal collection.
“Hey baby, I got new gear. How about you pretty it up for me?”
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thank you for reading!!!
my requests are open!
#arcane x reader#arcane#mel x reader#ambessa x reader#sevika x reader#vi x reader#caitlyn x reader#grayson x reader#mel medarda#✿ arcane#☆ mel#☆ ambessa#☆ caitlyn#☆ vi#☆ sevika#☆ grayson#🖋 mine
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would you ever write about hotch pining after r because he thinks she’s interested in someone else but then she confesses to him that she’s only ever had eyes for him 🥹
You’re shocked Hotch will let them look at him, honestly. When was the last time you saw Hotch receive medical attention? He doesn’t seem happy about it, suit jacket folded in his lap, his shirt cut in three places, most noticeably the left sleeve.
“His arm is definitely broken,” Spencer tells you.
“Do you think he’ll let me give him some comfort?” you ask, the two of you with your arms crossed against the side of the second ambulance, where Morgan undergoes a similarly reluctant checkup for his bloody temple.
“No. You can always try, though. He’ll appreciate the effort.”
You ready yourself with a deep breath and begin the short walk. It feels long then suddenly over at the same time. The only thing between you and Hotch now is a shoe’s width and the EMT securing his temporary sling.
“They’re making me an emergency appointment,” he tells you.
You fight the urge to rub the toe of your shoe into the ground. “Are you in pain?”
“No. They gave me tramadol.”
Hotch pushed you hard out of the way of a brawl and took blows meant for you in turn. He never lets you get hurt in the field. At first you’d assumed him to be the overprotective boss, and careful of women in the team, but you’ve caught on now that his motivation wells from somewhere deeper.
Hotch loves you. He won’t tell you. You have no idea why.
The EMT says she’ll return and takes her leave. You nod to the patch of metal flooring beside him, legs too tired to keep standing, and Hotch moves over to leave a gap between you suitable for turning into. You sit down with a sigh. Face to face, this close, you can see the different colours of his iris and the scar under his eyebrow clear as day.
“You okay?”
“Are you?” he asks with nothing more than a single short nod.
“I’m worried about you,” you confess. “I wish you wouldn’t do that. I can take care of myself, okay? I don’t like you getting hurt in my place.”
“I’m your Unit Chief.”
“If it were Morgan, you wouldn’t have pushed him out of the way. If it were Emily. And we both know I can hold my own.”
He doesn’t look away from your face. “I know.”
You’re finding it hard to want to scold him. You love him, too. You appreciate what it takes for him to take a fight that was meant for you, and the sentiment behind it. You’d quite like for him to protect you, just not at work. He could glare down potential suitors or argue with people who are rude to you at the grocery store. He doesn’t need to do your job for you.
You raise your hand tentatively to his face, ignoring his confusion as you rake the hair that falls against his forehead back up. “It’s getting a little long for you.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Me too. I keep meaning to do so much stuff but we get home and I get to my apartment and I just sleep for days.”
“I wish I did something that sensible.”
You curl your fingers over his shoulder. Without his suit jacket, you can feel the solidness of his muscle and soft tissue clearly. You rub your thumb in a half circle.
“Why don’t you sleep much? I wish you would.”
His eyes flare momentarily. His only tell, a flicker of movement you can’t miss. He’s surprised by something, your question, maybe your tone. “I do sleep.”
“Not enough.”
“No, I guess not.”
You press your cheek to his arm. Can’t help yourself. He’s this strong, stern guy, so used to trying to save everyone that he barely looks after himself, and it makes you sad to think he’d love you and not want to tell you, because why wouldn’t he? Something in him must stop him from acting on it, but that something isn’t in you, not anymore. “Can’t believe you got your arm broken for me,” you murmur, lips to his shirt. You let out a breath, feel the warmth of it pass onto his skin and his following shudder.
“It wasn’t purposeful.”
“No? That’s good.”
“I would do it again,” he says. “I thought you’d be with Morgan.”
“Morgan’s a big boy.”
“As opposed to me.”
“I want to be here with you. I’m worried about you.” You press your face further into his arm, scared to say it even though you know it’s returned. “I care about you so much, ‘n’ you never let me show it.”
“That’s not true,” —his voice climbs higher— “I thought… You and Derek are close.”
“He’s my friend, Hotch. It’s not like that.”
Hesitant, tender all the same, Hotch’s uninjured arm slinks around your side to hold you, to bring you closer to his side where you’re hiding. You’re much too old for this, and still you have to confess.
“I don’t like him,” you say.
“As opposed to me.”
You laugh at his repetition. Too embarrassed to say anything more on the subject but wanting to cement it in his head, you raise your head and your hand at the same time, knuckle to his jawline, nudging him to one side. You lean up and kiss his cheek.
“Please don’t push me out of the way again,” you say.
Hotch smiles at you, a proper, soft-eyed smile. “I won’t.”
It’s an obvious lie.
“Maybe when we go home we can nap together,” you suggest, heart slamming considering the innocence of what you’ve suggested.
His fingers cradle your side. “You want to?” he asks carefully.
“You can finally get some rest.”
He closes his eyes, resting his face against yours.
#aaron hotchner x reader#aaron hotchner x you#aaron hotchner x y/n#aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotchner blurb#aaron hotchner drabble#aaron hotchner imagine#aaron hotchner fanfic#aaron hotchner fanfiction#hotch x reader#hotch#hotch x you#hotch blurb#hotch drabble#criminal minds
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Prove It, Cowboy
pairing: dodge mason x reader
summary: after the player's ball, you find yourself without a bed for the night until dodge offers for you to stay at his, but when his mom and sister catch you sneaking in they get the wrong impression.
warnings: 18+ minors dni, dry humping, protected sex (p in v), dodge’s mom and sister being kinda invasive about his sex life (?)
a/n: dodge and his mom being so open about her sex life was so funny to me. this is kinda the reverse of a canon conversation... kinda! also i had a dream i went to one of dodge’s rodeos but he was flirting with all the girls so he was my enemy for a few days <3
A midnight sky hung over Carp, Texas when you arrived at Dodge’s house. Dodge put a finger to his lips fruitlessly as the front gate creaked loudly. The curtains of the front room twitched.
A female voice came from inside the house, “Dodge’s brought a girl home!”
Shit.
“That’s Dana,” Dodge sighed, fiddling with his keys and rubbing his forehead with a tight smile. Before he turned the keys in the lock, he turned to you, “Sorry, in advance.”
Your brows screwed together as he guided you inside.
After the player’s ball, Heather disappeared and so you were left without a bed for the night. God forbid you sneak into your own house and face the wrath of your parents.
Dodge came to the rescue.
A sigh fell from his lips at the sight of his mom and sister waiting in the living room doorway with excited smiles and hooded eyes. They behaved more like sisters than mother and daughter. It was sweet.
A dim lamp on the entrance table and the bright colours of the TV cast shadows across the room.
“Hi, I’m Y/N,” You smiled politely despite two pairs of unfamiliar eyes trained on you.
God they must think you’re here to sleep with him or something.
“Hi, sweetheart. I’m Jessica. You want something to drink?” Dodge’s mom raised her glass of red wine, “We’re watching Jeopardy.“
She was a very beautiful woman, cherub cheeks and bright green eyes. Dodge was all hard angles, he must take after his dad.
Dodge ducked into the sea-foam coloured kitchen to grab two waters from the refrigerator.
“I’m Dana!” His sister beamed. She shared an unspoken look with Dodge, who rolled his eyes. Before you could thank her, Dodge rejoined your side.
“She’s locked out and just wants somewhere to sleep,” He quelled their unspoken barrage of questions.
His mom nodded along, as if he was lying, “Okay well there’s spare blankets in the laundry room, condoms in the bathroom...”
“Oh my god,” Dodge cursed under his breath, “We’re going now.”
Jessica and Dana giggled behind their glasses of wine, the right side of drunk, “The book, Dodge.”
She winked with exaggeration, her filter totally gone with the amount she’d drank but she was clearly having a fun night in.
Dodge shook his head with a flustered laugh.
With a hand on your back, Dodge guided you to his bedroom. Your face flushed at the unexpected attention and the suggestive situation.
The two laughed rather loudly, saying how pretty you are and how Dodge will fair with a girl spending the night, for the first time you assumed.
The sound of the women stifling laughter echoed around the house. Dodge closed his bedroom door with a sheepish and apologetic smile.
His room was pretty plain; grey bedsheets, grey walls, rodeo trophies and medals, a bookshelf with framed photos on. It smelt like laundry soap and his cologne.
“I’ll sleep on the floor,” He offered, tossing his backpack onto the carpet.
“Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t bite,” You teased, as you looked at his collection of trophies and books, “Plus they already think we’re fucking.”
Dodge gave a quick laugh, watching you read the spines on the shelf.
“What book was your mom talking about?” You turned to him and his face flushed.
“You heard that, huh?” He mumbled, “It was a joke really. She thinks she’s funny.”
Even more intrigued by his avoidance, you sized him up with squinted eyes.
Dodge cleared his throat, tidying away a pile of laundry sitting on his bed, “They uh… god this is… They used to worry about me with- with girls. They thought I was a virgin because I never brought girls home to meet them or anything… and so for Secret Santa one year I got a book about… women… My mom insists it wasn’t her and that whoever it was was trying to be funny…”
There was a long pause. Dodge shied away from your eyes, his body turned away from you, despite the little air of embarrassed laughter.
Dodge cleared his throat again, “Super weird, I know. She had kids super young and didn’t want us to make the same mistake. Not that me and Dana are mistakes but it was hard for her. She’s cool about that sorta thing though. Dana’s ex-boyfriend used to stay over all the time and she didn’t care. So if you’re worried, she won’t say anything about you being here or anything.”
Another bout of silence fell between you as Dodge assessed your features, his lips pursed and shoulders tight.
“I think that’s the most you’ve ever said to me,” You laughed and Dodge visibly relaxed.
“No, it’s cool. Not cool but, you know, I wish my family were cooler about sex. My dad saw your name in my phone and reached for his shotgun,” You laughed, “Anyway, a book is probably better than drunk hook ups at the lake.”
“Yeah probably,” Dodge nodded, leaning against the bookshelf, and there was a lull in the conversation.
“Oh… did you read it?” You giggled, a flush of red creeping up his neck and ears, “You did!”
“You can’t prove anything,” Dodge shook his head with a half-cocked smile.
“But you could,” You raised your eyebrows and he furrowed his. It was a joke, he knew that, but Dodge steeled his expression and licked his lips.
“Yeah?”
You kept your eyes on his for a long moment before smiling, “Yeah. Prove it.”
You reached out and rested a hand on his stomach. His abs were tight and lean under his button-up shirt.
One by one, you unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it off his shoulders, running your hands along the sturdy plane of his stomach and chest.
Conflicting thoughts ran through your head. Heather was like your sister and Natalie had been planning to win Panic for years.
Would fucking Dodge Mason, their competition, be a good idea?
Your judgement was clouded by the heat radiating from his skin and the smattering of hair on his chest. His dual coloured eyes watched your face as you stood before him, admiring him.
“I saw you like this at the jump but not up close,” You rested your hands on his shoulders, biting your lip, “Thank you, saddle bronc.”
Dodge couldn’t fight the smile that spread across his cheeks, as a sputtered laugh escaped his lips.
In one movement, Dodge threw you over his shoulder and deposited you on his bed, kneeling over you.
A soft line of kisses traced along your arm to your shoulder. With every press of his lips, you itched to feel them against yours, whining at the wait.
Pink and plump, his lips pressed to the corner of your mouth before he pulled back to look down at you, stilling hovering over you.
Taking his head in your hands, you craned your neck to kiss him. Each press of his lips had you sighing contently and the swipe of his tongue had you moaning.
Dodge licked into your mouth with fervour, tongue and lips colliding with no precision, only desire.
You hooked your leg over his hips and rolled him onto his back beneath you, straddling his hips.
Dodge instinctively gripped your hips and watched with kiss-bitten lips and doe eyes as you discarded your dress onto his bedroom floor.
“You gonna give me some tips, cowboy?”
Dodge groaned, your hands pressing against his chest, as he slowly guided the rocking of your hips against his.
With every roll of your hips, your tits bounced in the lacy cups of your bra. His eyes flickered between your chest and your pink panties, rubbing against his bulge.
Dodge groaned, tightening his grip on your hips, “Lean forward.”
Following his instructions, a loud moan escaped you at the change in pressure against your clit.
“Good girl, you’re doing so good,” He rumbled, rutting his hips against yours in a perfect rhythm. Warmth bloomed in your chest at his praise.
Thank you, saddle bronc.
His muscles rippled and bulged underneath your hands as the slick between your legs dampened the skin of your inner thighs.
Cupping a hand at the nape of your neck, Dodge guided your mouth to his, kissing you with pinched brows and deep groans. Pulling away from the heated make out and pressing a deep kiss to his lips, you sat up and unbuttoned his jeans.
Dodge lay back, stroking your thighs and watching you with bated breath. Pulling him from his trance, you hooked a finger into the elastic waistband of his boxers, twanging the material against his alabaster skin.
A smile twitched at his lips as he slowly sat up and kissed you softly, rolling you onto your back. Dodge pushed his jeans off and lay between your legs, the hard length of his cock pressing into your inner thigh.
Settling your hands on each other's heated skin, Dodge kissed you deeply and nipped at your bottom lip playfully. His strong arms wrapped around you, his hand palming at the globe of your ass.
Warm and plump lips mouthed at your neck, teeth tugging the strap of your bra from your shoulder and kissing at the newly bare skin. He unhooked your bra, tossing it onto the floor and laving his tongue at your pebbled nipples.
"Please, need you," You whined, clawing at his shoulders. Dodge pressed a final kiss to your chest before sitting on his haunches and pulling your panties down your legs.
With firm hands on your inner thighs, Dodge parted your legs and bit his lip, staring at your dripping sex. You squirmed under his undivided attention, hooking your calf around his waist and pulling him on top of you.
Kissing him deeply, you pushed his boxer briefs down his hips, dragging your nails across his back once his erection sprung free. The wet tip smacked against your heated skin.
Dodge kicked his boxers off and reached into his nightstand, tearing the foil of a condom wrapper with his teeth and rolling the rubber onto his cock.
Caressing his biceps, you watched as he hovered over you and lined himself against your entrance. You hooked a leg around his hip, gasping into his open mouth as he slowly thrust into you.
Dodge's eyes fluttered shut as his hips pressed flush against yours. A ragged breath escaped his lips, tickling the skin of your neck. Dropping his head to your shoulder, Dodge sighed shakily.
"C'mon cowboy," You rolled your hips, "Buck."
Dodge let out a mix of a soft groan and a laugh into your neck, "You feel really good."
A small giggle fell from you, scratching your fingers through his hair. You bucked your hips again and Dodge clamped a hand on your hip, pulling back and rolling his hips against you.
Picking up the pace, Dodge fucked his thick cock against the sensitive spot deep within your cunt. Sloppy wet sounds echoed around the room with each buck of his hips.
Sweat beaded on your skin as the coil within the pit of your stomach tightened. Your nails clawed at the rippling muscles of Dodge's back, his skin slapping against yours.
Groans tumbled from his lips, pressing heated kisses to your skin, silencing your loud moans with his tongue in your mouth.
Digging your heels into his ass, you tightened your legs around his hips, letting him push one against your chest and his cock sinked deeper into you.
A broken gasp escaped you before his hand clamped over your mouth and his hips stopped, pressing his weight onto you.
The sound of footsteps outside his door and the subsequent flicking of light switches and closing doors alerted Dodge to the presence of his mom going to bed.
Dodge met your eyes, willing you to be quiet, as he continued to fuck you. Your brows pinched together as your interrupted pleasure began to build again, noises muffled by his strong hand.
Pressing his forehead to yours, Dodge slowed his pace and you took the opportunity to turn him onto his back, keeping his cock nestled in your cunt.
A surprised grunt tumbled from his chest and his hands groped at your body, holding you against him. You wasted no time before raising your hips and bouncing on his cock.
Dodge moaned and his eyes rolled back, covering his own mouth. A sheen of sweat on his skin glistened in the limited light. Leaning forward, your clit caught against his pubes, igniting a hotter flame within you.
"Good," Dodge praised, brushing your hair out of your face and watching your tits bounce in his face, "Such a good cowgirl."
He tipped his head back further into his plush pillow and his knees bent off the bed, fucking into you, his body pulling taut at the impending release.
"Gonna cum," Dodge rasped, panting and licking his dry lips.
You couldn't form words, only nodding, meeting his eyes and rocking your hips with the uncoordinated buck of his. The band within you was one thread away from snapping before Dodge gripped your jaw and pulled you into a heated kiss.
White hot bliss coursed through your body as you moaned into his mouth. Dodge mouthed at your unresponsive mouth, too preoccupied with moans of pleasure to reciprocate his kisses.
Dodge pulled back to watch your orgasm wash over you before he hit his peak, white ropes of cum filling the condom as he groaned deeply.
Sinking into the mattress, you lay on his sweaty chest, both trying to catch your breath. Dodge discarded the condom in the trash by his bed and pulled you into his side.
His cheeks and neck were rosy with exertion and he ran a hand up and down your back, "You should try saddle bronc."
Fucked out, you laughed into his sweaty chest, "You should keep that book."
Slowly you drifted into a blissful sleep, bodies entwined and satiated.
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