tex 🖤

𝚃𝚎𝚡𝚊𝚜𝚃𝚎𝚊𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝙼𝚊𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍

Tex/Texas — 🖤 — '96 — 🖤 — asexual/demiromantic — 🖤 — Two Spirit

Ao3 🖤 Asks 🖤 Charity Commissions are now OPEN!

Hangster

IceMav

TG/TG:M rare pairs

Hollanov

Top Gun Bingo event!

(tentative list) Tex works coming in 2026: HERE!

WiPs

married in vegas hangster au - coming very soon!

Jake has a problem.

(Or, alternatively, Jake downloads Grindr, gets himself a smoking hot fuckbuddy, and maybe falls in love.)

It's me, Tex...again. (:

I'm writing the married in Vegas au (lovingly named Can't fake that) and had this 3rd of fwb already written, so I figured i'd tide you guys off with some heat.

From the latter half of this chapter pretty much till the end of the entire fic will be pretty filthy, so beware the tags being updated with each installment!

Well lol

Across both ao3 accounts its 479,633 words altogether!

🖤

Jake and Bradley met one early morning on the beach after both of them couldn't sleep. They share a look, that look—the haunted, faraway stare born from years in the sandbox (or other places) seeing the worst horrors of the world.

At first they're cordial. A friendly sort of jerk of the chin in greeting, like ships passing.

Until one day Bradley is too deep is his memories, nightmares clawing at the walls of his mind and making them feel too real, that he doesn't notice Jake is there. Jake notices that Bradley looks stricken, dark circles under his eyes and hands trembling in his lap, staring out at the water, not like a surfer analyzing the waves but like he wants to just...wander into the depths and not come up for air.

So Jake, in his stubborn, protector glory, saddles up right next to Bradley and states, "we should surf together."

Just once. Just to try it out.

Bradley stares but nods, silent as a ghost.

They paddle out a good ways, and then just—sit there. Jake knows talking always feels like a double edged sword, so he doesn't bother asking Bradley anything. Just calmly sits beside him as they rock gently on their boards, watching the sun rise over the horizon, painting the water a beautiful array of oranges and yellows until it fades into an almost iridescent blue.

Bradley doesn't say a word until they make it back to the shore, soaked and chilled to the bone, but shoulders noticeably less tense. "..Thanks."

Jake waves him off. "Same time tomorrow?" Like it's that simple.

And they just—keep doing that. Meeting up in the early morning, before the sun is up, and paddle out a good twenty yards out and just sit there and watch the sunrise. Eventually they do start talking, but it takes awhile. Mostly simple, generic topics at the beginning, throwaway comments about the weather or recent sports scores, or even about what they ate the day before.

It takes much longer to broad the topics of their tours, and even it's choppy, fractured by anger and anguish and held tongues.

One morning they end up getting breakfast nearby, and Bradley tangles his feet with Jake's under the table like it's second nature. Like it's perfectly normal, an earned intimacy over countless mornings spent learning how the other works and operates.

And Jake?

He curls his foot a little tighter around Bradley's ankle and smiles into his coffee.

oH!

🛌 What's a trope you haven't written, but want to?

Wingfics!! Or like, some type of winged variety (I actually dunno the name of it? LOL) but i've always loved reading them and never had the courage to try one myself ;-;

thanks for playing ^^ 🖤 hope you're doing well!!!!!