#and yet where is he? sitting on the toilet in the bathroom because he hates feeling left out.

[lemonlover1110]

𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄!

Toji Fushiguro

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Warnings: Pure Fluff, Razors, Shaving

Summary: Toji refuses to shave, and his girlfriend refuses to kiss him. She takes matters into her own hands to kiss her boyfriend's beautiful face again.

Discord 18+ - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Toji has to shave at least once per week, or else kissing him becomes a hassle. Toji’s problem is that he’s lazy, and he doesn’t like to shave. He claims it’s a waste of time and energy, and you argue about it because it prickles on your skin when you kiss… Or do anything else.

Yet, Toji complains when you refuse to kiss him. Throughout the day you randomly kiss him, something that the man has grown accustomed to, but when you notice a stubble, you avoid it. Toji notices the lack of love, and he hates it. He isn’t the tender one in your relationship, but during the sudden decline of affection, he tries to be. However, when Toji tries to kiss you, you put your hand over his mouth.

“You need to shave.” You tell him, and he frowns. You have no idea what you’ve done by declining his kiss– Oh, you’ve started a battle that you cannot end.

Rejecting his kiss is a sin in his eyes, and he’ll make sure you repent. He’ll let his facial hair grow, and you assure him that you won’t kiss him until he shaves. One of you will give up after some time without kissing, and he’s sure that it’ll be you. He won’t kiss you until you agree to kiss him with a beard (a stubble since at the bare minimum he trims it, he isn’t sure that a beard is the look for him).

He’s right, you’re a weak weak woman. By the second week, you want to jump on him and give him all your love. But he won’t listen to your pleads of shaving. You take matters into your own hands after a month.

“What’s that?” Toji asks, eyes looking up from his phone to find you holding a white plastic bag. Maybe he wouldn’t ask if you weren’t dangling it in front of him. You grab his hand and attempt to pull him up from the couch, and he stands up, a bit reluctantly. He smirks as you lead him to the bedroom, commenting, “I like where this is going.”

But then you take him to the bathroom, and force him to sit on the toilet. You get two things out of the plastic bag: shaving cream and a razor. He furrows his eyebrows before shaking his head, “I’m not doing it.”

“But I am.” There’s a certain look on your face, and he doesn’t dare challenge you because he knows that if he does, your relationship might come to an end. 

You open the faucet, and you splash cold water on his skin, causing him to jump up a little. You get shaving cream all over his beard, before you grab the razor. You swipe the razor in an upward movement on his skin, and he whines, “If you’re going to do this, at least be careful and don’t cut me.”

You cut him again, and he whines again. It takes a couple more cuts before he grabs the razor from you, and goes to the mirror to do it himself. You smile at him through the mirror, and he swears it’s a demonic smile. You got what you wanted in the end.

You watch every movement through the mirror, and when Toji is finished, you squish his face. Toji scowls, and you peck his lips. You kiss him over and over again, and his face softens. You kiss his cheeks and all over his face. He would almost hate that you’ve won, if you weren’t so loving.

“I love kissing your little face.” You take a break between kisses before continuing, and Toji smiles. He has to push you off, although he’s a bit disappointed at his own actions. He wants to let you kiss him all day long, but he can’t. He has to interrupt you. 

He says, “I have to grab some bandaids.”

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

He's been at Steve's house a week before he manages to gather up the courage to ask.

He shuffles into the living room, Steve's old slippers on his feet, Steve's old pajamas hanging off him. He'd lost weight in the hospital. And hadn't gained much back yet, still in too much pain to really have an appetite. But this, it needed doing. He needed it done.

"Steve?" He asks, throat clicking, voice scratchy from underuse. Steve looks away from the tv immediately, hits the mute button, eyes wide and on Eddie.

"Hey. You okay?" He asks, turning his whole body on the couch, towards Eddie, giving him his full attention.

Eddie just nods. Slowly. His eyes going unfocused, staring at the floor.

"Eddie?" And Steve's in front of him now, he hadn't even heard him get up.

"Hmm?" He hums in his throat, eyes still feeling foggy.

"Did you need something?" Steve asks, Eddie's eyes focus, the concern in Steve's voice bring him back into his body. He looks at Steve, nods, says,

"I need you to cut my hair." His lip trembles, he digs his teeth in.

"You... what?" Steve's confused. Rightfully so. Eddie swallows around the fire in his throat, tries to explain it to Steve. This thing he can barley figure out himself. Has a half formed idea at best. He wipes at his nose with the back of his hand, Steve steps a little closer.

"It's just- it keeps- I keep laying on it. And it... pulls. And I'm sleeping and it pulls and I wake up and I can't breathe and it's-" he inhales, sharp and shakey and then Steve is there, his hands on Eddie's shoulders.

"Okay. It's okay. I'll do it. Whatever you want Ed's." He pulls Eddie upstairs, into his bathroom. Stands with him in front of the mirror, scissors in hand.

"Where do you want it?" Steve asks, his eyes meeting Eddie's in the mirror. Eddie takes a deep breath, brings his hand up, winces at the pull on his ribs but keeps going.

"Above my shoulders. But like... I wanna still be able to tuck it behind my ears?" He's not sure why it comes out as a question, but Steve just nods, Eddie sees his lips twitch into the start of a smile before dropping again. He reach up, drags his fingers genlty through Eddie hair.

His stomach sinks, his hair is gross. He hasn't washed it in days. Too tired. Too much pain. Too much effort.

"Sorry my hair's gross." He mumbles, lips barley moving.

"It's not. It's fine." Steve assures him, his voice soft, sections out a small lock of hair, he looks at Eddie in the mirror again.

"You're sure about this?" He asks, he looks sad. Eddie hates it. But also doesn't. Because it means Steve sees him, understands him, and how important his hair is to him.

But it doesn't matter right now. That his hair is a peice of him, a peice of the Eddie he'd built to keep himself safe. A peice of his armor.

"I'm sure. Please." He isn't begging, exactly, but his hands fist in his pajama pants, and it feels like it anyway.

"I'm gonna go just above your shoulder at first okay? And then if you want more off we can do that." Steve waits for Eddie to agree and then starts cutting.

Eddie closes his eyes when the scissors sink through his hair. Keeps them closed as Steve works. He stops a few cuts in and tells Eddie to wait there. Eddie sits on the toilet seat as he waits for Steve to come back.

He brings a radio with him, clicks in one of the tapes Eddie made him, and gets back to work. Eddie's eyes stay closed. He finds himself smiling as he listens to Steve hum behind him. Scrunches his nose when Steve full on sings a few times.

Not because he's bad. He's got a really nice voice actually. Eddie loves listening to him sing. But if he didn't scrunch his face he might to do something else instead, something stupid, with Steve so close.

It only takes a couple songs before Steve's hands are on his shoulders, gentle, reassuring, an anchor.

"Okay. It's done. Or at least. Might be. I can take more off if you need me too." His voice is soft in Eddie's ear, Eddie can feel the heat of his chest on his back he's so close.

He opens his eyes and feels his heart flutter in his chest. His head swimming a little. His hair hadn't been this short since junior year. He can see Steve watching him in the mirror.

"Good?" He asks, dragging his lip into his mouth and letting it go again.

"I think so." Eddie says, feeling a bit dazzed, a bit dizzy. And then Steve fucking reaches up with both hands, tucks Eddie's hair behind his ears genlty, his fingers moving down his neck to rest back on his shoulders.

"I could take another inch. It'd still fit behind your ears." Steve's eyes are moving over his head, like he's doing some complex math equation. Eddie wants to cry. His chest tight.

"Okay. Take it." He says, Steve's eyes move to his in their reflections again.

"Yeah?" Steve asks, reaching up and smoothing his hand over Eddie's hair. Eddie nods.

"Yeah. One more inch." He breathes the words out, like he just needs them gone, out of his mouth. Steve smiles at him, untucks his hair from his ears and starts cutting again.

Eddie watches him this time. Watches the way his tongue sticks out as he concentrates, measuring Eddie's hair between his fingers before he cuts. His tongue peaking out between his lips, brow furrowed in concentration.

Eddie watches him and tries to convince himself he actually wanted it shorter. And maybe he did. But he knows too, that he didn't want Steve to stop touching him. Steve's eyes meet his in the mirror and he smiles again. Eddie looks away. His cheeks burning.

"Okay. You're done Munson." His voice is teasing, it makes Eddie's stomach flutter.

"Thanks. Harrington." He teases back. Too soft. He knows. But he can't help it. His voice is stuck in his throat. Steve snorts as Eddie turns, takes a step toward the door.

"Actually. Can I-" Steve stops, his hand curling around Eddie's bicep, stopping him there. Eddie looks at him. Waiting.

"Can I wash your hair for you?" Steve asks, his voice quiet, Eddie barely hears it over the radio.

"My...?" Is Eddie's articulate reply.

"Please? It'll make you feel better. I- I think." Steve stammers a bit, always so endearing when he does that. Eddie loves when he's flustered.

"I uh... yeah okay. If you want." Eddie shrugs, tries to act normal. Like any of this is normal. And Steve fucking beams at him, that beautiful smile on full display.

"Okay cool. Just uh... here you can sit here while I get this cleaned up and get a towel and I'll be right back." He's talking fast, his hands flailing and jumping around as he talks. Eddie just nods, smiling at him as he watches him toss Eddie's chopped hair into the trash. Watches him take a lock of it and tie it in a knot, tells Eddie he'll put it somewhere safe. So they'll know when it's fully grown out again.

Steve wipes up the counter and disappears, comes back with two towels a few seconds later. Instructs Eddie to sit on the floor. He sets a towel down for him to sit on and lays the other over the side of the tub.

Eddie lets Steve guide him. His hands gentle as he lowers Eddie's head back over the tub, asks if he's comfortable, Eddie hums an affirmation. Steve makes sure the water is warm, not too hot, because Eddie doesn't like hot water. He gets it perfect. And then starts pouring water onto Eddie's hair.

Eddie's not sure where he got the cup. Or if it was already there for some reason. He means to ask but Steve's fingers sink into his hair and his brain short circuits. The shampoo smells amazing. Minty. It tingles against his scalp in the best way as Steve's fingers move in slow circles.

Eddie's eyes fall closed. He's sure he makes some obscene noise but Steve is kind enough not to comment. His fingers working magic in Eddie's hair. He rinses with warm water, the contrast from the cool minty feeling making Eddie shiver.

He hears Steve laugh a quiet laugh as he does and smiles himself. He hears another bottle pop open and closed and then Steve's fingers are back. Working the conditioner into his hair slowly, massaging it into his scalp as well. His hands moving slowly, with a purpose, for what feels like hours. He pulls back eventually, fingers dragging slowly through Eddie's hair as he goes.

"I'm gonna let that sit for about two minutes and then we'll rinse okay? You doin okay? Not in pain are you?" Steve all but whispers in Eddie's ear. The radio is still playing in the background. But Eddie couldn't tell you a single fucking song that had played since Steve started touching him.

"I'm good. Kinda tired. But that might just be your magic fingers." He peaks one eye open, watches as Steve laughs, shakes his head. He closes his eye again and laughs too. Only it wasn't a joke. Not really. Steve's fingers were magic. Just like the rest of him.

Steve hums along to Queen's Radio Ga Ga as they wait, Eddie tapping out the beat on his thigh as Steve hums and sways. The song ends and Steve scoots closer.

"Ready?" He asks, turning the water back on.

"As I'll ever be." Eddie deadpans, scooting back a bit from where he'd slid down.

"You're not gonna try and put products in my hair and blow dry it are you?" Eddie asks as Steve starts pouring water over him, fingers moving quicker now, moving his hair around to get it clean, he snorts again.

"No. Just wanted to get you clean." He says, pouring one last cup of water over his hair and turning the tap off. He grabs at each side of the towel under Eddie's neck and lifts, pulling Eddie up and wrapping his hair in one smooth motion. Eddie's eyes land on him and he can't help it.

"So my hair was gross. I knew it." He sighs, watches Steve's nose crinkle.

"It really wasn't that bad. But you thought it was. So i figured this would help." Steve shrugged, like it was nothing. Eddie bit his lip as Steve patted and scrunched his hair in the towel, being careful not to pull.

He claps his hands down on his thighs and helps Eddie get back on his feet. Pulls him genlty to stand in front of the mirror again and smiles soflty when Eddie takes the towel off his head and drags his own fingers through his hair.

It's short, leveled at his chin, a little above when he tucks it behind his ears. And he feels... better. Lighter. He shoves his hands up into the back of it, taking a deep breathe when his fingers drag over his neck, it makes him shiver.

"Fuck. I'm gonna be cold now." He mutters, chuckling in his throat, he hadn't thought about that.

"I'll keep you warm." Steve's voice is soft, when he speaks. The tape in the deck clicks and goes quiet as they stare at each other in the mirror.

"I just wanted you to feel better. But I'll gladly keep you warm too. Whatever you need Eddie. I- I mean I'm here. For you. Not goin anywhere." He shrugs after he mumbles through his little confession, his eyes on the floor when he turns to Eddie.

"I feel better." Eddie whispers, bites his lip and decides to be brave.

He steps forward, into Steve's space, Steve lifts his head, hazel eyes darting around Eddie's face. Eddie hears his breath stutter when he leans closer, presses his lips to Steve's cheek, firm.

Wanting no doubt in Steve's mind that Eddie means this. Means to kiss him. Means to pull him into a tight hug after. Means to hum happily into Steve's neck when Steve pulls him close, arms wrapping around Eddie's skinny frame and holding him tight.

"I'm not going anywhere either." Eddie breathes into his shoulder, presses another kiss there, into his shirt, like a promise. Steve squeezes him tighter, Eddie thinks he might be crying. His chest fluttering against Eddie's as he breathes shakily.

"Can I sleep in your bed tonight?" Eddie asks, lets Steve pull away a bit so he can see him. Eddie was right, there are tears in his eyes, but he's smiling as he looks at Eddie.

"Yeah. Course you can. You can sleep there every night if you want. Forever." Steve says, nuzzles into Eddie touch as he wipes tears away from his flushed cheeks.

"Forever huh?" Eddie teases, kissing acoss Steve's cheeks genlty as he laughs, it's wet, and wobbly, and Eddie is so fucking in love with him already.

"Yeah. Forever. Or however long you want me I guess." He shrugs again, dismissive, as if he really thinks Eddie would ever give him up.

"Forever sounds good to me. Not fucking letting you go now I've got you." Eddie whispers, his hands holding Steve's face, Steve's hands on his wrists, holding him too.

"You're gonna keep me forever?" Steve asks, his lip trembling as he looks at Eddie with hope in his teary eyes.

"Forever and ever, if I can." Eddie nods, and it seems to break Steve. He sighs, grabs at Eddie's pajama shirt and tugs him forward. Their lips crash together, a little rough at first, their teeth clicking until Steve seems to calm and slow down. His lips move genlty against Eddie's, soft and slow, and when he pulls back he's smiling again, his crooked little half smile that Eddie loves so much.

Steve scrunches his hair a few more times and then drags Eddie upstairs, gets them both comfy in his bed. And he holds Eddie as they fall alseep, pressing kisses into his hair and against his temple before sleep takes him.

Eddie wakes up warm. Drapped across Steve's chest as the sun hits them. He feels lips press into his hair, smiles when Steve makes exaggerated kissy noises. But he keeps his eyes closed, nuzzles deeper into Steve as he feels his fingers press into his hair.

Eddie hums as they drag through a few times, nimbly untangling rats or snags as they move. He sinks deeper into Steve, his heart fluttering as Steve's hand moves through his hair genlty, scratching at his scalp as he goes, before settling against the back of his neck, his thumb moving in slow cirles against the newly exposed skin.

Eddie whimpers into Steve's chest and snuggles closer, Steve keeping him warm, just like he promised. Eddie couldn't wait to spend forever with him.

[starlight-library]

Impromptu dates | LN4

pairing: lando norris x sick!bookworm!reader

summary: a bookworm & f1 driver + stomach bug = the best lazy date ever.

warnings: none!

fc: none!

wc: 859

Most people hated being sick.

It’s understandable that people hated being sick. They don’t feel. They feel gross. They feel off. The list goes on and on on why people hated being sick. Especially people who are more independent and hate the idea of someone else taking care of them. Which you understood as it hit a bit too close to home.

Which is why as someone fiercely independent as you are, people never understood why you enjoy being sick. 

You could never find the words to explain it when people ask you on the spot. You try and try yet you’re never happy with your answer and people never quite believed you which was fair but you didn’t care. You enjoyed it when you were sick. 

Not violently ill, which you emphasize. You did not enjoy running a super high fever, or running to the bathroom, or having your head constantly over a toilet vomiting up basically nothing. That was not fun. You enjoy the kind of sickness where you can’t go out into the world for a day or two. Maybe a low grade fever that’ll pass or a quick stomach bug that’s out of your system fast but you still take the precaution and stay indoors. 

Why?

Well that’s because it means you can stay under the covers after a shower with your kindle in its little tablet holder. Page turner remote in hand while having your water and drink of choice (mostly iced coffee), and some white noise as background noise. It was truly perfection for you.

Yet it was Lando’s hell.

Lando, your boyfriend, hated when you were sick. It meant no cuddles. No hugs. No kisses. Any physical contact was on halt and it was already torture given his schedule so the rare time he did get to see you in person and you were sick? He was miserable. Sure, you two video called but it just made him more sad that he wasn’t there to take care of you even if you swore that you didn’t need someone to take care of you. He refused to believe it so he would send you meals and medicine. He refused to let you pay him back so you’ve learned to accept it without the guilt weighing on your shoulders. It was a nice agreement you two had silently made and nothing really could beat this.

Until now.

There was a month break in between Singapore and Austin and Lando was going to soak up every second he could get and it was fine till somehow you caught a stomach bug. Lando refused to leave which also meant he caught the stomach bug.

You’re happily half laying/half sitting next to Lando against some pillows under a weighted heated blanket. You have one of his sweatshirts on while sipping your iced coffee and looking at your kindle while Lando tosses and turns next to you. You tried offering him medicine or some crackers and soup but he’s turned all the options down but now it seems he’s settled down. You look over and are greeted with the same green-blue eyes you’ve grown to pick out of the crowd in a moment. You see the curls sticking to his forehead and gently you push some out of the way and smile. “Hey.”

“How are you drinking iced coffee right now?” The Brit asks.

You shrug before smiling, “I don’t know. Guess I feel better after cleaning my stomach out and taking some medicine unlike someone.” Poking his forehead, you giggle while he huffs slightly and moves his head away. You hear Lando grumble something about the medicine tasting bad and you roll your eyes. “You’re such a big baby.”

Lando pouts slightly grumbling he is not a big baby before you return to your book. You look back hearing a huff and raise a brow. “Yes?”

“How do you just lay here and read and do nothing? I’m so bored yet too tired to get up.”

You shrug, “I just get really engrossed in my books sometimes I forget to even eat or pee.”

“You what!?” Lando sits up a bit in surprise before laying down and whining at his upset stomach.

“Oh come here.” You start.

You shift and sit up a bit more and reach over and rearrange your nightstand. You move your drinks further back along with your tablet holder before grabbing your TV remote and turning the TV on. You watch Lando lay there for a moment before shifting closer. He tosses and turns before slowly he settles on his stomach letting a soft sigh of relief out. Wrapping his arms around your waist, the Brit nuzzles his face into your stomach before settling down and looking at the TV. Lando flips through some apps and television options before settling on ‘The Hangover’.

Settling back down against the pillows you run your fingers gently through his hair while you go back to your book, the movie becoming background noise for you. This is how you two spend the evening and it’s the best impromptu date and now becomes your go to date.

[ghostheartfelt]

what’s cap. price's reaction to you finally being pregnant after you both had been struggling the past year to actually conceive? you both had been wanting to have a baby together, but it didn’t work out well in your favor until poof! a sudden miracle.

*:･｡☆ warnings: undertones of infertility.

*:･｡☆ notes: captain john price x female!reader

—✩ A BRIEF INTERRUPTION✩—

word count — 1.3k

[feels so short.. i hate it.]

a/n: here’s a smaller little one shot that sort of invaded my mind. i’m running out of ideas and am running on the comfort of pregnant!reader, especially where the hope of fertility had started to be lost :’) any requests are completely welcome! this is just quick n cute.

You're kneeling down on the bathroom floor, your legs lay off to the side as your head hangs low, your eyes wide with shrunken pupils.

Accompanied by trembling fingers, you pick the stick up and off the floor, blinking away the tears stinging your eyes and blurring your vision.

It was a pregnancy test.

A choked sob leaves your throat watching the one faint pink mark turn into two faint pink marks.

Positive.

You were pregnant. You were having John’s baby. You both had been wanting one for the past year, and even after the several doctor appointments addressing the unlikelihood of fertility for the two of you, it happened.

“Oh my god…” your lips quiver as you smile.

Even after all the tears and the false hope, it happened.

Rather than picturing living off rich and bubbly champagne in a house with a crystal chandelier and natural stone flooring, you pictured raising a family with your husband.

You pictured walking along a beachside shore, holding your sleeping baby against your chest with his hand in yours.

John Price was your biggest supporter, showing you nothing but love and affection upon you both finding out the chances of having a baby was close to impossible.

He held you against him and palmed his hand in your hair, pressing kisses to your cheeks and the sides of your nose as you shivered, holding back your sobs.

John sat beside you all night as you cried, unable to get a blink of sleep until eight in the morning as he explained how he’d never leave you just because you weren’t able to conceive his offspring. That he loved you and prized you nonetheless.

Your hands fling open the cabinets under your side of the sink and you rummage through medical supplies and wash rags stacked inside, flinging items off into the corner and creating a mess of you and your husband’s bathroom until you find a small box.

You pick up one of the sticks, a sigh of relief leaving your lips as you grip the counter top above you and lift yourself up.

“Please,” you whisper to yourself as you sit yourself on the toilet and thumb down your black panties and wiggle them off to ring around your ankles. You lean forward as you hold the test stick underneath you.

. . .

You hold up the two tests, both holding the same symbol, and yet you still debate driving down to the nearest drug store to purchase another box, but instead you just leave the messy bathroom and into your bedroom.

Usually, you wouldn’t call John while he’s at work, but you knew he wasn’t on deployment, so you pick up your phone off the marshmallow sherpa blanket and punch in your passcode.

When his contact is pulled up, you call him and press the phone against your ear, seating yourself on the edge of the bed.

It rings for a few moments.

John had been in a debriefing meeting when you called, but he took in consideration that it was important, and swiped it over to answer the call after he stepped into a corner within the room, asking for quiet from the Task Force.

“John?” your voice croaks on the other line, he’s quick to notice.

“Love? Wh’s the matter?” Genuine concern was as thick as honey on his tongue. “Did somethin’ bad happen?”

You run a hand through your hair, sniffling softly. “God—god, no. Everything’s fine.”

There’s a pause.

“Actually—christ, I’m sorry if I was botherin’, I just…” you bite your lip and rub your sweaty forehead with the palm of your hand.

“I know y’wouldn’t call me if it weren’t important.” Your husband says calmly. “J’s tell me wha’s on y’mind, we’ll discuss it after my meeting.”

Your heart practically sunk in your chest at his words. “Meeting?” You repeat.

“Don’t.” He sighs. “I promise, it’s fine. Talk t’me, honey.”

Soap nudges Gaz with his elbow. “Tis’ the lad’s woman. Pretty lass, ‘ll tell ye that.” His knee is bouncing with his other leg draped on top.

Price turns his head a moment, eyes staring him down before he turns and brings focus back to his phone call with you.

You take a sharp inhale, swallowing your nerves into the pit of your stomach as you lick over your dry lips.

“John, I’m—…I’m pregnant.” you manage to choke out through happy tears.

His muscles tense and his eyes widen at your words. If he wasn’t surrounded by his coworkers, he swore his eyes would be watering to the brim—although he did feel them stinging as he refused to allow himself to break tears.

“Y’serious, love?” His voice cracks a little. It makes your heart flutter to be able to hear the smile in his voice from behind the cell phone.

“So serious,” you reply in a sharp whisper. “We’re having a baby, John.”

He says your name lovingly and you feel weak at the knees even hearing it just over the phone.

Your hand grips the hem of your grey tank top before you press a hand against your belly, lifting your head up into the air to take in the moment. “God, I wish you were here right now.”

That breaks him. He’s got tears in his eyes now as he feels his emotions bubble in his throat, a hand dragging up to pinch the skin on the bridge of his nose.

“I..I know, love, I know. Me too.” He manages to choke out. “Do you—“

You softly shush him through the phone. You knew you were keeping him from something important—it was a miracle altogether that you got his attention pulled from his meeting in the first place.

“Cap?” Ghost raises a brow under his balaclava watching the man’s shoulders tense up.

“We’ll discuss after the debriefing, alright? Love you,” you hum.

“Wa—“ he raises his voice a bit higher than the prior whisper he’d been committing to, though he’s paused in his speech at the sound of the disconnecting signal coming from his phone.

You immediately have your back meet the comfort of your bed, grabbing a pillow to clutch to your chest as you roll around and kick your feet, the long-awaited feeling of happiness causing your adrenaline to rush through your chest.

He takes it off his ear to look at the “call ended screen”, the profile picture of you—in your heart-shaped sunglasses—both at the beach with Price’s lips against your cheek causing the rotting smile plastered on his face to stretch farther.

“Captain.” Soap calls out, confusion being evident in his tone as he slightly raises himself up from his chair, palms flat on the long conference table that took up most of the office.

Price turns around and pinches his hat off, letting it fall onto the table as he walks back towards his seat. Soap sits himself back down.

“M’wife is pregnant.” He lets those words seep beautifully off his tongue. “Pregnant..” he whispers incoherently back to himself.

His Task Force was well aware of the struggles between the two of you when it came to the idea of starting your own family, and they made sure to show their support to their Captain.

So, the news was a shock, but a good one. “About damn time she got knocked up!” Soap exclaims, a shit-eating grin spreading across his maw like the Cheshire cat.

“Congrats,” Gaz smiled softly.

“Atta, Captain. Congratulations, ya old chap.” Simon extends an arm, planting rough yet lighthearted pats against your husband’s back.

Laswell had raised herself out of her seat to gently push the Captain's cheek against her lips. “I’m happy for you, John—We all are.”

Alejandro, who had been included as part of their data capture procedure, lets out a subtle chuckle.

“Ay, cheers, hermano.” He offers the captain a genuine smile. “Just wait until you have to deal with that woman’s meltdowns and cravings—my sister was a nightmare.”

Laswell manages a small laugh. “My wife, too.”

“She’s worth it.” Price simply replies back, still spellbound by the piece of information that was amazingly overwhelming.

“‘Righty then, let’s make this quick,” Simon clears his throat. “Shouldn’t keep him too long, ‘sure he wants to go talk to his wife.”

That he did.

“Affirmative.”

[lady-of-blossoms]

「 ✦ whispers of heartbreak 5✦ 」

READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

WARNING!!⚠️: Rape, Forced abortion, bleeding, Angst.

Ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4

the next day when you wake up, you don’t get greeted by the disgusting sight of gojo and Rebecca, instead gojo sits on a barstool by the kitchon island.

"Gojo?" you say confused, as you walk over to the fridge to get yourself Some breakfast.

"Oh by the way gojo, where is rebecca-" you ask but get intereupted by gojo wrapping his arms around your waist intimately.

"Since her baby wasn’t mine there was no point of keeping her in this house. And talking about babies that arent mine, that pregnancy of yours, Abort it, since its not mine" he says as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

you tense up, what the hell did he just say??? "what!? No !!" you nudge him off of you.

"YIN, You don't have a choice..."

you didn't have a choice did you now?, well it doesn't matter now anyways, because you aren't pregnant anymore.

You have no energy whatsoever, you barely eat anymore, and you refuse to talk to gojo, you just hate that you had to abort your first miricale baby.

As you sleep one day, in the middle of the night somebody crawls into your bed, the somebody being gojo, he unbuckles his belt and drags down his pants, he pulls down your panties.

"GOJO?, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?, DONT TOUCH ME!!” You scream

"Chill I’m not even doing anything…Yet" he smirks as he holds your wrists in place keeping you unable to move or do anything else than say stop and cry.

"GOJO, DONT YOU FUCKING DARE, IM TELLING YOU" you scream at him loudly, as you cry and struggle aimlessly to get him to let go of your wrists.

"If he could get you pregnant, than I can too, and nothing will stop me" he thrusts his length into you harshly.

"No…No!…NO!, stop I dont want this. WHY???” You scream as the pain shudders like lightning through your whole body, it hurts, when geto did it, he was much more gentle, but gojo didn’t even try to hold back.

he moans and groans as he thrusts in and out roughly “take that, hngh~, such a good fucking slut"

He moans out as he twists your nipple and thrusts harder.

Tears stream down your face harder than ever, you feel as if he is tearing you apart, why, what did you do to desserve this, the pain of the abortion still hurts, but then this on top, you feel as though you are being punished for something you did in your previous life, you cry, cry and cry, it hurts so much, it burns the only thing you can think about is the pain, is it normal for it to be this painful, probably not, but it doesn’t matter because gojo does it anyways, even though you say no and don’t give consent.

“Stop…stop…no…I don’t want to….why me?….no…consent…." Your words come out slurred as you pass out from the pain and crying.

When you wake up, he is asleep, either his cock still inside of you, you flinch as you pull him out and stand up, the concoction of blood and cum drips down your thighs and onto the floor, leaving a trail behind you as you walk to the bathroom. When you get to the bathroom you look in the mirror and all you see is bite marks, bruises, red crying marks on your cheeks and the concoction dripping down you legs, you throw up into the toilet bowl.

What did you do to deserve this, you keep throwing up until your wheezing and crying, you sit down on the toilet and put a pad in your panties, your not on your period but you don’t want anybody to see the pain and suffering your going through, so you hide it.

You put bandaids on your red and bleeding nipples and puts some clothes on, you walk into the kitchen and get yourself water, it doesn’t taste the same anymore, it used to give you meaning to life but not anymore, three days is what it takes to die from dehydration right?, well that’s a long time but it’s gonna have to go, from then on, no more water.

When gojo wakes up he groans as he feels the throbbing in his cock, he doesn’t understand why, he sits up he’s in your bedroom, he doesn’t remember why, he sees blood on his pubic hair, and he doesn’t remember why, he stands up and follows a trail of red and white stains on the floor, he doesn’t remember why, he hears noises from the kitchen, he walks in and sees you, you look broken with a big cut on the left side of your face under your eye, he doesn’t remember why.

"A-are you ok, Y/n?, what’s wrong?" He reaches out for your arm but you flinch and he retracts him arm back, he doesn’t understand or remember what he did or didn’t do

"You don’t remember do you, well then don’t mind if I drop a fucking bomb of information, you raped me last night, remember now?" You said in a hiss as you stare into his soul with your empty eyes.

Taglist: @qashmer @sukunaspillow

Rape prevention hotline

[scoops-aboy86]

Some Turbulence Ahead

Prompt Used: Summer fling (@thehairandthebanished) and mile high club (@steddiesmuttyseptember) | Some Turbulence Ahead | Rating: E | CW: semi-public sex, a hint of feeding kink, a lil bit of drinking | Additional Tags: chubby Eddie Munson, doting Steve Harrington, friends with benefits, feelings realization, the looming threat of possible unrequited feelings

also on Ao3

It was only supposed to be a summer fling. A natural carpe diem following a harrowing week of near-death experiences—or, as Eddie likes to spin it, a week of Death suffering from near-Eddie experiences. He’d thrown himself at Steve without really expecting the guy to catch him, just knowing him enough to know that Steve would at least let him down easy. 

Only, Eddie still hasn’t hit the ground. 

He’s literally thousands of feet above it actually, slipping into an airplane bathroom after a reasonable amount of time to allay suspicion… Though it’s not like anyone is paying attention. Apparently, when you’re in first class, you can do whatever the fuck you want. 

Including getting your… whatever they are to each other’s pants unzipped under the complimentary inflight blanket and fondling him in his boxers until he’s hard, then flouncing off to the bathroom after a heated whisper about doing something about it. 

Sometimes, Eddie kind of hates Steve. (Not really.) 

He hasn’t bothered to zip back up, so once he’s inside all Steve has to do is lift the bottom of his t-shirt to see where his cock is doing its best to escape threadbare fabric that used to hang loose on him. Still kind of did, before Steve ordered them the full range of snacks that flying the friendly skies had to offer, on the grounds that chewing would help Eddie’s ears pop. And a few rounds of complimentary champagne, to celebrate a long weekend away from Hawkins. Eddie had felt warm and flushed before Steve’s hands started wandering, and now that they’re on him again, pulling his jeans and underwear down together and grabbing hold with a spit-wet palm, he feels goddamn incandescent. 

Steve’s other hand is in Eddie’s hair, guiding him into a hungry kiss but pulling away slightly when he moans. “Gotta stay quiet, babe,” Steve murmurs, then sucks on Eddie’s bottom lip. 

“Fuck,” Eddie whimpers, but softly. It’s not like he wants to get caught in here either and get weird looks for the rest of the flight just because some stewardess saw his blindingly white ass.

Which Steve is now dropping to sit on the closed airplane toilet so he can grope, kneading and tugging him closer with intent. Eddie has to slap a ringed hand over his own mouth to smother the sounds that want to spill out. Jesus H. Christ, if he’d known before Spring Break that Steve Harrington enjoys giving head so much, he wouldn’t have wasted so much gas driving out to Indy on the weekends. Now, threading his fingers through that gloriously thick, soft mass of hair, he knows that he’s going to miss all this when it’s gone. When summer ends and Steve takes it away, to follow Robin wherever she’s going for college… Meanwhile, Eddie hasn’t saved up enough to strike out on his own yet, so. That’s that. 

Not that he’s thinking about the end of things now, with Steve’s tongue swirling around the head of his cock, teasing at the slit, and one of his hands drifting from his ass, pausing to squeeze briefly at his hip, then to his full stomach—which, fuck, that feels good. Everything feels good, sound muted beneath the roar of the plane engines and vibrations off the same moving through him from any surface he touches, and Steve sucking him all the way into his throat like he can’t get enough. Like he’s getting something out of this too, when he’s not even jerking off while he does it. 

“C-close, Stevie,” Eddie whispers through trembling fingers. “Hurry, befoooooh fuck, mm, before someone finds us—”

Steve moans around him, suitably muffled by how full his mouth is but Eddie can feel it all the way up his goddamn spine, and that’s what does it. Tips Eddie’s eyes back in his skull, curls his toes, pops the last remaining champagne bubbles ping ponging around inside of him. And, yeah, they’ve been in the air for a while now, but he feels like he’s flying.

By the time the haze in his head clears up enough to remember he’s in a tiny, tiny bathroom, Steve is already making him look presentable again: jeans back up, spent dick tucked away with a surprisingly tender goodbye kiss, nuzzling briefly at the treasure trail below Eddie’s soft navel before pulling his shirt down to hide his… still unzipped pants. 

Eddie is too blissed out still to devote much thought to that. Instead, he pulls Steve to his feet and pouts for a kiss, which he gets. Long and slow and deep, because he likes to taste himself in Steve’s mouth. He reaches down to return the favor, humming in confusion when he doesn’t feel the expected hard-on. 

Breaking the kiss with a shiver and a soft, overstimulated oh, Steve pulls away and reaches to adjust his slacks. He unzips and pushes them and his briefs down to reveal an obviously used condom sheathing his cock. “It was just in case,” he whispers sheepishly, blushing. It goes all the way down his chest, Eddie knows, unseen beneath a baby blue polo. “For, uh, easier cleanup.”

Stifling the insane urge to giggle, Eddie kisses him again before letting Steve shoo him out to get back to his seat. Steve follows a few minutes later, hair resettled into something more like ‘napped in a strange position during the flight’ than ‘I just inducted my friend-with-benefits-or-whatever into the Mile High Club.’ They exchange conspiratorial grins, giddy over getting away with it, and then a stewardess comes by with a final round of inflight snacks and they get more champagne to go with their little packets of peanuts. Steve pulls out the map of San Francisco, pointing out all the places they want to go that he’s carefully marked down in blue pen. 

The Golden Gate Bridge. AT&T Park. Chinatown, like the movie. Cable cars. Fisherman’s Wharf, Wax Museum, and Pier 39. The Ghirardelli chocolate factory. An old World War Two submarine open for tours at Pier 45, right next to an antique game arcade. Alcatraz. Even the Castro district, which Steve lowers his voice a bit to talk about but still brimming with obvious excitement. They’re going to stay in a nice hotel near Union Square and just be fucking tourists for a few days, courtesy of the inheritance from Steve’s Grandpa Otis that he gained full access to on his twentieth birthday. 

Maybe Eddie is a little drunk, or still riding the high of orgasm a bit… but for just a moment, he lets himself dream that this could be more than just a fling. There’s a real tenderness to some of the things Steve does for him sometimes, in how sweet he can be amidst the bitchiness and insatiable libido. And Eddie loves it all, because… he loves Steve. 

Wants to wake up with him every morning of this perfect vacation, start every day with a kiss and playful bickering about whose morning breath or bedhead is worse, and then just. Keep doing that forever. 

Huh. 

When did that happen?

When had he fallen fallen for Hawkins’ finest purveyor of Family Videos, the Paladin tank who defended young nerds with his own life, a perfect boy with a winning smile and a taste for spoiling his partners? Absolutely crazy. 

It was only ever supposed to be a summer fling.

Permanent tag list: @hotluncheddie @lawrencebshoggoth @sofadofax @irishvampireboy @oatmilk-vampire

@wheneverfeasible @hamiltonswiftie @grtwdsmwhr @yesdangerpls @theseaofdespair

[ifimdreaming]

Can you do something with Nolan Moyle ?

blurb!

im drunk

nolan moyle x reader

summary: you get very drunk and call nolan to come and pick you up (cw: mentions of throwing up, and drinking obviously)

authors note: this is not edited whtasoever its 3am rip

word count: 1.1k

-

It had been such a long time since youve gone out on a friday night and you were not about to leave because your friends decided to abandon you before midnight.

the club was starting to get busier and you were starting to forget how many drinks youve actually had by now. Just being able to dance with strangers and not worry about school or work or anything else was actually such a relief

After dancing to song after song by yourself, you squeezed your way off the dance floor to grab a seat at the bar. You were feeling a lot drunker than you normally would get and suddenly everything was catching up to you. You hadnt even found a seat at the bar yet before you begin tripping over your feet. you stumble slightly, and feel someone grab your arm as you almost reach the ground

“woah, you ok sexy?” an unfamilair voice says as you feel a hand placed against your back. This is exactly why you hated going out without nolan

“um. Im fine. thanks” you say shortly, trying not to let him get the wrong idea.

“yeah? you need another drink?” the tall blonde says and the hand he placed on your back begins moving lower and lower

“yeah no thanks. Im actually going to find my boyfriend” you lie, ripping his hand off of you as you run off quickly. and youre just silently praying you dont fall on your way down the long dark hallway to the bathroom

Being alone in the bathroom with the sounds of music and people now distantly murmuring in the background made you feel suddenly very vulnerable. The realization that you were in a crowded bar, alone, and you hadnt even told nolan you were going out tonight was fianlly hitting you. so you decide to give him a call

“Hello?”

“Nolaan? H-hiii”

“Hello? …Wher-” he starts and you cut him off, knowing hes probably about to ask a million questions just from hearing your inebriated voice. And honestly, rightfully so 

“I-im at the club! Im. im d-drunk” you say, “some guy cuaght me b-but im ok. Its ok”

“What? Where are you?”

“Um im. Imhere im just. Im drunk”

“Ok. just send me the address and ill come get you. Can you do that?”

If your mind was in its normal state you would be thanking god for how sweet of a boyfriend nolan is in this moment. But alas the alcohol is taking over and almost everything he is saying is flying over your head

“Where are you?” you say, forgetting you were in fact on the phone, and nolan wasnt at the bar with you.

“Im getting in my car. I have your location so im coming to get you alright?  Just please dont drink anymore, Ill be there in like ten minutes” he says and just the mention of alcohol makes you feel suddenly extremely sick to your stomahc 

You run into the bathroom stall, throwing up probably more than half of what you drank tonight.  nolans voice quietly echos through your phone that is now sitting on the grimy bathroom floor

“you there? What happened?” he asks worriedly

“i t-threw up” you say remorsfully. Suddenly your dizziness is gone, but an instant headache follows

“Yeah i thought so” “just try to relax ok? Im almost there just dont hang up the phone so i can find you”

-

“Nolaan?” “are you there?” you ask after just silently sitting on the phone while he is on his way to get you 

“Im here. Are you in the bathroom?”

“I-im. the toilet…”

“Ok just gimme a minute” he says and hangs up the phone, worrying you

Not even ten seconds later the bathroom door swings open and you see nolans feet from underneath th stall door

You push open the stall excitedly as he walks towards you, lifting you up slowly from your crouched positon beside the toilet.

“Hiiiii” you say with a giggle

“Hey baby. You ready to go?”

“S-sorry i got drunk… im...” you start, but are too tired to continue. You droop your head slightly against nolans shoulder as he maneuvers your arm around his neck, helping you walk out to his car

“Lets head home ok? And we can talk about what the hell happened in the morning…” he says with a laugh, shaking his head

“C-can we go home?”

“Yes baby.. I just said that” he says, unlocking his car and opening th epassengers side door. He is being as gentle as possible as he helps you into the car

nolan always looked insanely attractive when he was concerned. his eyebrows are slightly furrowed and his lips pursed as he buckles your seat belt for you, and you just watch him intently as he takes  care of you

“Hi” he says to you after noticing you just staring intently at him without a word

“can i have a kiss?” you ask keenly and face wrinkles as  a smile grows on his lips

He takes your face in his hands an dplaces a loving kiss against your forehead, and then squishes your cheeks in his hands

you wiggle your face out of his hands, “i meant on the lips..” you say with an exaggerated frown and pouted bottom lip

“Oh did you now?” nolan smiles and grabs your waist in one hand, stroking your hair softly with the other as you close your eyes in anticipation. he leans in towards you leisurely before moving his head to the side, blowing a wet raspberry against your cheek

 He giggles at your disgust and closes the car door, retreating to the drivers side.

“You have to admit that was pretty funny” nolan says, looking over to see you with your arms crossed over your chest, dramatically protesting his actions

“Im not talking to you!” you look over to your boyfriend as he drives you both home 

“Youre talking to me right now..” he says cleverly. Undeniably winning this feigned argument

“Then i, well you- then you dont talk to me then” you say,  nolans eyebrows contort as he hides a smirk and youve confused even yourslef with that sentence

“ok …lets just get you home baby..’ he says with a laugh and you huff in response

nolan places his right hand on your thigh as he drives, his strokes on your leg alleviating the annoyance of your dizzy mind and aching stomach

You place your hand over his and sink deeper into the passengers seat, basking in contentment as your drunken tiredness takes over

-

-

[stratossphere]

chores | v.v

jackass!girl reader x ville valo

ville’s trying to get laundry done, but you can’t help yourself.

warnings: smut, handjob, oral (m. receiving), reader bothering ville at the end :)

word count: 3.8k

a/n: this is kind of in relation to some asks i got, but not exactly so i might still do another one for those, but this is something to hold you over for now ;)

— —

Sometimes, you really hated your job. Sure, you appreciated the fact that it kept you financially afloat, and as much as you hated to admit it, you really enjoyed working behind the camera because it gave you a chance to actually be creative for once in your life. Working on the Jackass set, however, did about the opposite of that, and was about the least rewarding job you could possibly think of. It was hard to celebrate your victories when the object of your job was to get a beer funnel up someone's ass as fast as you could.

So, after a long day of listening to your friends be vile and disgusting for hours on end, you were really looking forward to going home. Ville was home with you for the next few days before his tour picked up again, and you were basically bouncing on your toes as you headed into your apartment knowing that he was going to be there all day and all night without a single interruption from anyone else.

However, once you actually came into your apartment, Ville was nowhere to be found. Usually he had one of the CDs in your living room playing, but the living room and kitchen were both dead silent when you walked through. Confused, you called out Ville's name as you glanced out at the balcony to see if he was outside smoking (which would've been unlikely, considering your apartment was too shitty to care about whether or not any smoke ended up outside).

"Here." He sounded preoccupied when he called back to you, and you frowned when you traced his voice back to the bathroom in your bedroom. Neither the shower nor the sink was running, and yet you could hear water sloshing around as you walked closer to where he was hiding. It then clicked when you heard him start humming, and you let out an exasperated sigh as you finally entered the bathroom.

There, kneeling on your bathroom floor with his back turned to you, was Ville Valo, famous rock star and songwriter extraordinaire, washing his clothes. In the bathtub. You ran a hand over your face, leaning against the door frame as you watched him aggressively scrub at his Black Sabbath shirt.

"The walk to the laundry room was too much for you?" You asked, letting a little bit of snark bleed into your voice as you watched him turn around to finally face you. He had a cigarette stuck between his lips, and you could see the four butts that he'd already collected in your bathroom sink to his left.

"Washing machines are for fucking pricks." He said disinterestedly, turning back to his work in the tub. You wouldn't have ever soaked your clothes in that tub no matter how much someone paid you, because you’d had a lot of drunk people do a lot of gross things in that tub, but clearly he was unbothered by the thought.

"Are my clothes in there?" Suddenly you caught a glance of your 'I ♡ Sluts' shirt in his hand, and you frowned deeply at the realization that you could actually see multiple items of your clothing in the soap-frothed water along with his.

"Yeah. Two birds, one stone or whatever." He said, holding up said shirt and showing it to you for proof. If it hadn't been for how disgusting you knew the apartment you lived in was, you would've been touched by the fact that your boyfriend was literally hand-washing your clothes for you while you’d worked all day. However, you just couldn't stop imagining all of the gross things that had occurred in your bathroom on a lot of drunken weekends.

"Ville." You groaned, moving over to sit on the lid of the toilet to watch him. As much as you didn't want him washing clothes the way that he for some reason liked so much, it was kind of fun to watch him do it. It was like having your own personal maid who also happened to be smoking hot. "Bam puked in that tub last weekend."

"You should stop having parties in here. It's turning into a shithole." He responded thoughtfully, glancing at you for a split second with a 'take my advice' look on his face. You scoffed, because your apartment was way beyond being a shithole by this point. Hell, you couldn't use the microwave and the coffeemaker at the same time without blowing the fuse in both the kitchen and living room. Plus, he was one to be talking on the subject of shithole apartments.

"I'll take it into consideration." You said dryly, reaching out and tucking the hair that was falling in his eyes behind his ear. It was getting almost ridiculously long, but thankfully he'd seemed to have kicked the habit of stuffing it all under a beanie for days on end until it was disgustingly greasy as of late. "I missed you."

"Missed you too, my love." He was clearly a little too focused on the task at hand to pay attention to you, so instead you just slid right down to the floor, sitting so that your back was leaned directly up against his and crossing your legs.

"How was your day?" You decided against talking about yours, because you were sure that he wouldn't enjoy hearing about all of the gross things you’d been doing all day. Ville had a habit of only finding gross things funny when he was the one doing them. It kind of reminded you of Bam, in a way.

"Boring. I fixed that stupid fucking coffee maker, though." His words were almost drowned out by the sound of the drain sucking water down when he pulled the drain plug, but even then you could hear the irritation bleeding through. The coffee maker had been broken a lot of times, and as of late, it had been putting more coffee grounds than actual coffee into your cup when you tried using it. "Also, Bam called the landline about seven different times."

You looked back in surprise, feeling your heart jolt because there was only one way that he had known it was Bam in the first place. "You didn't pick up, did you?"

His silence gave you your answer. You groaned, crumpling against him as you pictured Bam jumping into his car as soon as he'd gotten off the phone with Ville. There went your days to have him to yourself.

"I wasn't going to listen to the goddamn phone ring for another fucking hour." He defended himself at your groan, turning slightly so that you shifted on his shoulder to where he could look at you. "He said to tell you that you’re a ‘skank-ass-bitch’ for not telling him and that he hopes Jeff Tremaine decides to cut your shit from the movie."

"He's such a sweetheart." You muttered, letting out a soft sigh as you took the cigarette from between his lips and then took a drag off of it. "He must really be craving your dick in his mouth."

"That's not funny." Once the tub had completely drained, he turned away from you and turned the faucet back on, beginning what you assumed was the task of rinsing the soap out of all of your clothes. You rolled your eyes, both because he wasn't paying attention to you and he was such a downer, before getting a bright idea and smirking to yourself.

"You know who else is craving your dick in their mouth?" You asked suggestively, quickly reaching up to put the cigarette out in the sink with the rest of them before turning yourself around so that you could sit facing his back and wrap your arms around his waist. You watched his hands falter where he was messing with the faucet, and then he took a deep breath.

"I'm doing something." He sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than he was you. You rested your cheek against his shoulder blade as you slowly slipped your hands under his shirt, dancing your fingers across the warm skin of his stomach. You enjoyed the way his breath caught in his throat. Usually Ville was pretty good about keeping himself under control and not letting you see just how affected he was by your touch (which was sometimes a little irritating), but now it seemed as if he was lying it directly at your feet.

"Mhm." You acted like you cared, continuing to move your fingers south until you were at the metal buckle of his belt. You pulled it open the way you had so many times before, listening to the clinking sound and the matching rasp of his rapidly-increasing breathing rate. "Soak the clothes again."

"Y/n, love—" He tried to sound frustrated, and his hand had completely stilled on the faucet by that point, but you could feel the way the muscles in his abdomen were flexing under your touch. He wasn't fooling anyone. You allowed yourself to grin like an idiot as you pulled his belt from each of his belt loops because you knew that he couldn't see you, entertained by his reaction to your actions.

Once his belt was completely removed, you tossed it to the side before returning your fingers to the button of his jeans, getting it open and then very slowly undoing the zipper. He wasn't wearing any underwear (which you could never understand, considering he always wore tight, low-waisted jeans), and you could see that despite the fact that he was trying to play it off as if he didn't care, he was completely hard. You grinned to yourself.

"Did you think I wasn't going to notice?" You hummed against his shoulder, biting gently at his skin as you ghosted your fingers over the tattoo on his stomach. You weren’t touching him yet on purpose, and you could almost hear the frustration in his voice as his breath caught in his throat once more.

"No, but I did think you were going to have enough decency to let me finish what I'm doing." He said in a strained tone, tilting his head to the side so that he could look at you as you started to move away from his back and around to his side.

"Nope." You hummed, popping the P sound as you leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips. You pulled back away slowly, watching as his eyes followed yours intently, before he started to move back so that his back rested against the tub and his legs were stretched out. "I worked all day, and I expect to have you legs spread and waiting when I get home."

"You and your fucking jokes." He grumbled as you laughed and kneeled between his legs so that you could wrap your arms around his neck, your lips trailing down his throat as you inhaled the scent of his cologne and the cigarettes that he'd been smoking.

"Come on! That was a little funny." You grinned at your own joke, and he just shook his head before grabbing your face and pulling you in for a real kiss, his tongue pushing slowly into your mouth as your hand started to push between the both of you. His frown lost purchase as you finally wrapped your fingers around his cock, his lips falling away from yours in a gasp as he groaned softly.

"Sweetheart. Slow down–"

"I just wanna suck your cock, baby. Please. Been thinking about it all day." You whined as you pressed a wet, sloppy kiss to his lips, looking at him with a slight pout as you continued to stroke his cock. You could tell by the way his eyes fell shut that your words were working, and you gave him one more kiss before you broke away to sink down to the bathroom floor. The blue tiles weren't exactly spotless, and if you hadn't been so eager to get him shaking and moaning you wouldn't have been sinking right down onto my stomach like you were, but you would think about it later.

His eyes opened when your hand came off of his cock, and you grinned knowing you had him wrapped around your finger as you rested each of your arms on his thighs. Looking up at Ville, you felt your heart swell at the look of love in his eyes as he met your gaze, and then you were really okay with being on your dirty bathroom floor.

You ran your tongue along the underside of his cock, finishing it off by running it around his tip and tasting the salty tang of his precum as you listened to him let out a shaky breath. He gathered your hair up into a messy ponytail in his fist, starting to push your head down until you parted your lips and sank your mouth down on his cock, aided by his pushing hand until he was in your mouth as far as you could comfortably take.

"Fuck. Fuck, Y/n." He moaned as you began to suck softly, his free hand gripping the rim of the tub as he pulled at your hair with every bob of your head. Your tongue swirled around his tip with every rise, but other than that it remained sliding against the vein on the underside of his cock as he put slight force against the back of your head. "You look so good with cock in your mouth."

You hummed at the praise, sucking a little harsher and feeling the way his cock twitched in your mouth at the change in sensation. Ville had always been pretty vocal during sex when he let himself, and with the addition of tile walls that exaggerated every sound by tenfold, the bathroom was quickly filled with the steady stream of sounds falling from his lips mixed with the sound of his cock hitting the back of your throat over and over again.

You moved your head up to suck on his tip, which always earned you moans from his lips that you couldn't have attempted to recreate if you’d tried, and felt his grip in your hair tighten by tenfold, making your scalp tingle in a way that pulled a whine of your own from deep in your throat.

"Ugh, you're gonna make me cum if you keep doing it like that." Ville grunted, which was funny considering that was exactly what you were aiming for. He always liked to draw things out and take them slow, but sometimes it was fun to see just how fast you could get him fucked out and spilling over the edge. Which was what you were doing now.

"Cum down my throat." You popped off of his cock just for a second to utter those words, giving him a coy smile before you were sliding him right back into your mouth, starting to bob your head quicker where his grip had gone lax in your hair due to the fact that his entire body was getting more and more pliant with every lick and suck.

"Oh, shit. Just like that." He began to thrust his hips up into your mouth as you let your jaw relax so that he could do so, his hand re-tightening in your hair as his hips started to shake and jerk on their own. Pretty eager actions for someone that had insisted that they were too busy to take a break long enough to get sucked off.

Not long after, the pitch of his voice was increasing and his breathing had gone ragged as he continued to meet every bob of your head with a buck of his hips. You could feel his cock twitching in your mouth as you swirled your tongue around the head once again, and then he let out a long moan.

"I'm gonna–" He didn't even get a chance to finish his sentence before cutting himself off with a gasp as he came in your mouth, his cum hitting the very back of your tongue and then sliding down as he painted the back of your throat. "Goddamn."

You continued to suck softly until his heavy gasps for air turned into groans of discomfort, pulling off once you were satisfied with his state of disheveledness and holding eye contact with him as you swallowed. His chest was heaving with the effort of catching his breath, and he must've at some point haphazardly reached out behind him to turn off the faucet so that the tub didn't overflow, because that's where his hand was still resting.

"Whew. Thought you were going to pull my hair out." You teased as you pulled back up onto your knees, his legs still spread around you as you held yourself up with your hands on his shins. He rolled his eyes.

"You know what my favorite part of you sucking me off is?" He asked as he tucked himself back into his pants, keeping those dark-rimmed eyes on you the entire time. Before you could even open your mouth to retort, because you knew exactly what he was going to say, he beat you to it. "No talking."

"That was a compliment!" You pretended to sound offended as you moved back a little bit so that he could get up and turn around, stretching his back out as he surveyed the tub full of your clothes. He chuckled.

"For who? Yourself?" He turned back to look at you where you were still kneeling on the floor, reaching forward to smooth the hair that he had ruffled up with his tight grip against your head.

"No! For you." You said obviously, taking his hand when he offered to pull you up to a standing up position. "I was complimenting how strong you are. And how handsome."

He was clearly trying to suppress a smile as he continued to give you an unamused look, and you attempted to break his concentration by wrapping your arms around his waist, resting your chin on his chest as you looked up at him.

"You're much prettier than I am handsome, love." He mumbled, his smile cracking even wider when your hands slid under his shirt and brushed against his sides soft enough to tickle him slightly. "Give me ten minutes to finish this and I'll take you to the bed, yeah?"

"I still gotta shower. There was a lot of puking today." You admitted, giving him a kiss right after you said that just to add to the appeal. He recoiled slightly, looking grossed out.

"You didn't puke, did you?" Despite the fact that you’d already made out a couple minutes earlier, he wouldn't let you kiss him again, and then of course turned back to the soup of clothes in the tub before you could even defend yourself.

"I rinsed my mouth with mouthwash!" You protested, leaving out the part where that mouthwash had also been vodka. There were limited options on set, okay? "And it was only once. They were throwing dead animal guts at me."

"I don't understand why you do that job. You're much more talented than those idiots." He muttered to himself as he knelt back down to start swirling the clothes around in the water to rinse the soap out of them. If only you had a camera on you. The scene in front of you would be a great picture to send to Bam to show him what he was missing. You grinned at the compliment.

"Aw, honey. That's so sweet." You crooned, standing behind him and running your hands over his shoulders. No matter how many times he said them, even the smallest of his compliments still managed to make you weak in the knees. "It's like you want head a second time."

"Sweetheart. How can your sex drive be so high after you had dead animal guts thrown at you?" Ville chuckled, glancing over his shoulder at you as he started to wring out some of the items of clothing in the tub. You located his cigarette pack sitting on the floor by the door, and you reached down to pull one out before grabbing one out of your own pack in your back pocket and pulling out your lighter.

"I've been working my ass off. I had to sit there and think about you naked all day." You complained, leaning down to stick his cigarette between his lips before putting your hand in his hair to pull his head back so that you could light it for him. You then did the same for yourself, taking a short puff and blowing it out of the already-stuffy bathroom. Ville did no such thing, instead blowing his smoke out directly in front of him and leaving a heavy cloud of smoke trapped in the shower.

"How do you think I feel? I've never seen such a wide array of sex toys, and my father owns a sex shop." He was referring to the bottom drawer of your dresser in your room, which he had clearly been going through again, and you threw a hand in the air as you sat down on the edge of the tub so that you could still talk to him despite his attention being 99% on the clothes in the tub.

"You're gone a lot. What do you expect me to do?" You pointed out, running your foot along his side and watching as his eyes darted to yours for a split second with mock-irritation shining inside of them. "And if you want me to use them on you, you know all you have to do is ask."

"That's very funny." He said in complete seriousness. No sense of humor, that one. "In no way will you ever be using a dildo anywhere near me."

"You're so dramatic. Obviously I wasn't talking about that kind of stuff." You rolled your eyes, leaning your head against the wall and yawning. It really had been a long day, and despite how fun it was to watch your boyfriend hand-wash all of your clothes, you were kind of an impatient person. "Would you let me cuff you up?"

"Y/n. Laundry first. Then all of that." Ville shot you a genuinely irritated look, and you almost laughed at how serious he was about the stupid laundry. You let out a sigh, blowing your cigarette smoke at him and then crossing your arms.

"Fine. But you have to promise that you're going to do the thing tonight, okay?"

[starry-nights12]

Boots

One Word Prompt(Ekko's POV)

It was windy while we sat under the bridge. The thunder rumbled and cracked in the night sky.

Jinx held my arm, rested her head on my shoulder, and kept her eyes closed while the rain pelted our faces.

Listening to rain was one of the things she and Silco used to do together. I hate Silco but my love for Jinx outweighs it. If doing this makes her happy then I'll do it for her.

Jinx held my hand as we walked to my room. She took off my jacket and let the scarf drop on the floor then led me to the bathroom.

I went to take off my soaked shirt but Jinx put her hands on top of mine and shook her head.

She put her hands on my shoulder, sat me down on the toilet seat, and took my shirt off for me.  She kneeled in front of me and held one of my boots.

"You don't have to. I-"

Jinx scoffed. "You think I don't know that? "She took off one shoe "I'm doing it because I wanna take care of you." She took off the other one.

She then used my knees to help her stand up. Her hand cupped my cheek, "You're my angel."

Pride always swelled in my chest whenever we referred to each other as mine. I could have never predicted that that one day she would ever call me hers.

I tugged on her waistband and she took the cue to sit on my lap. My hand slowly rubbed her thin waist. "I love you, Jinx."

Jinx simply smiled and stroked her thumb across my cheek.

Warmth flowed throughout my body when her soft lips were lightly pressed against mine. Our kiss was brief, so I chased after her for another taste of her sweetness.

Her lips were planted more firmly but were still gentle. Her lips continued their caresses against mine.

She wasn't doing anything lascivious yet my heart was comparable to the storm we witnessed.

She kissed my nose when we separated. Her eyes half-lidded expressed the same feeling I had for her.

I unfasted the strap below her leather crop top and peeled it over her head.

⋆｡˚ 🌨 ˚｡⋆｡🌩˚☽˚｡⋆

Out there, no one knew where she was. She was a looming threat to Pilties. An inspiration to some Zaunites or hated by others for starting the war.

The truth is, she didn't give a shit about any of them. She laughed when I told her about The Inxes

She wasn't interested in politics. She wasn't trying to send a political message. Everyone wondered what her next master plan would be.

She was currently leaning against me, splashing while making her toy shark attack a rubber duck: chomping sound effects and all.

I closed my eyes and leaned further into the tub. Only in my dreams I thiught we'd ever be happy with each other again.

I had it planned out.

Take out his goons first. Silco was a coward. He was always hiding behind paid muscles.

Sevika and Jinx were his most deadliest. I would have to kill them first. After them, Silco was next.

It would have been easy.

If I had my way, I would have relished the sound of Silco's skull cracking against my metal pipe. I would have bashed his face in until it was unrecognizable.

I restrained the smile that wanted to reveal itself. She suddenly became quiet and moved away from me. Even with my eyes closed I knew she started to stare at me. She does that sometimes.

Whenever I was half awake, I could feel her eyes on me. I'd wake up and they'd be the first thing I see.

I opened my eyes to see her holding her legs. "You know it right?" She tilted her head. "That I do. I really do."

Since I was smiling for a different reason, I allowed it to spread. My finger combed through her wet hair, "I know, Jinx."

Jinx mirrored my smile. She encircled her arms around my waist and nuzzled her head on my chest. I reciprocated the hug, my thumb rubbing circles on her back.

We've been dating for almost three months and she hasn't said it.

It went from "like-liking" me to "I do, too." It was essentially her way of "I love you."

But I understand.

She feels like everyone she loves will eventually leave or die because of her. I figured her verbally saying the words out loud for her will...well... jinx it.

The irony could never escape me. 

The girl I planned on killing for years became my girlfriend. If anyone hurt her, I would have to kill them myself.

I had my chance and I hesitated. With how things played out afterward, I'm glad I did.

[baka-bakeneko]

Hate Me - River Ward x Fem! V Reader [NSFW]

Prolly 'cause there's no one around me numbin' all my pain

tags: Ex-inmate River Ward, angst, love/hate relationship, bitter feelings, slight choking, Dominant River Ward, submissive V, love bites, taking orders, hatefuck, doggystyle, dirty talk, degradation, name-calling (good girl, big girl, little bitch, baby, filthy slut, bad girl, Val), double orgasm, cumshots, hurt/comfort

word count: 4.06k

synopsis: River Ward, recently released from Night City Prison, asks V to pick him up. There's some unresolved shit, obviously.

a/n: how we feeling River lovers? we in the trenches yet?

You woke up to a phone call on your holodex; squinting your eye as you sat up, you answered before looking at the caller ID.

"H-Hello?" You asked, rubbing your temple as you swung your legs over the edge of your bed.

"V," a voice began, one that sounded vaguely familiar but felt like a distant dream, a could have been. "I'm sorry, did I wake you?"

You shook your head, pushing to your feet and blinking slowly before acknowledging the face on your holodex. "River."

"Yeah," he said sternly, his voice low and metered. "Sorry, I didn't know who else to call."

It'd been a while since you spoke to River. You remembered when you two last saw each other. He was so upset with being so late, he was barely able to save Randy. And you...you just dragged your feet to aid him.

His dismissal of you was almost heartbreaking, so blasé in passing and swearing that you and him were done. Whatever hope that brewed between the two of you at that moment soared and crashed in a half life.

He gutted you emotionally. And you could tell by the difference in how he looked at you now that you'd done the same to him. You failed him.

"I-It's okay," you shrugged, taking a timid step in your own apartment.

Suddenly your knees were at newborn strength, the wave of your crush on him returning even after his rejection of you.

"What's up?" you asked, working up to walking to your bathroom.

River took a deep breath in, then out. "I was wondering if it'd be possible for you to pick me up somewhere. Joss isn't answering and I don't really have anyone else to call."

You blinked slowly, holding the edge of the sink as you stared into the mirror. From behind you, Johnny glitched into the room and stared back.

"So you're his last resort, even after the shit you did to him. Christ, V."

You waved away your nuisance and tried to breathe. "I got you. Where do you want me to pick you up?"

"Place called Red Dirt Bar, heard of it?"

You glanced back over to Johnny then nodded. "Yeah, I heard of it."

"Meet me there, like 30 minutes," River said, crossing his arms tight over his chest.

"Okay, I'll see you there."

The line went dead as soon as you agreed; gripping the edge of your sink, you felt a disgusting bile crawl up your throat. The guilt came back in a sudden rush, chilling the back of your neck as you hung your head.

"Even after you fuck him over, he still calls." Johnny added, glitching to sit on the toilet. "He's got it bad for you, V. Even when he shouldn't."

You shook your head. "That's not it, Johnny. I owe him this, I know it. I fucked everything else up for him. Least I could do is give him a ride."

Johnny scoffed incredulously, turning his head away from you. "Don't blame yourself for what that sicko did, V. He strung up Randy and those other kids...that shit still haunts me."

You righted yourself and turned to face Johnny. "And think of what that did to River. His nephew almost died. And all because I couldn't figure the facts out sooner."

"You're not the cop, here, V. If mister detective couldn't figure it out, then you shouldn't put the blame on yourself."

You grimaced, a sound of disgruntled disbelief escaping your mouth. "I gotta get ready, I'm gonna go get him."

You sat in your car, your heart beating erratically out of your chest. You didn't know what to expect picking up River, but you knew that this would be the last time he'd ever speak to you.

Your fingers drummed on the steering wheel, pulling into the bar lot and parking your car in front of the door. You stared out of the windshield at the bright red neon sign, gulping at the thought of leaving your car.

'Come inside.' River texted to you as you told him you were here.

Your nerves electrified a second time, making your hands clammy as you climbed out of the car. It wasn't often that you had to face your problems so head-on.

To squash a personal beef with zero confidence backing you up. You walked into the bar, scanning the near-empty place before noticing River sitting at the bar counter.

He was dressed in his signature leather pants and red shirt, no longer wearing the jacket as it sat on the stool to his left. Another gulp lodged in your throat as you walked up to the foreboding man and slid into the seat to his right.

River's shaved head was fresh, the stubble on his chin new. He smelled of aftershave and he spared a glance to you.

"What're you drinking?" He asked, his voice still a metered tone.

You nodded to the glass in his left hand, righting yourself to face the counter. "Whatever you're having."

River nodded, blinking half-mast before raising his glass to the bartender. "She'll have a double rattlesnake."

You spared a polite smile at the bartender as he acknowledged the two of you; he fastened the drink at his place at the far end of the bar then slid the glass down to you.

You grabbed the glass, held it between your clammy hands as you exhaled shakily. You rolled the cool glass between your palms, trying your hardest to not say much.

River hummed next to you, his eyes narrowing at your profile before downing the last fifth of his drink.

"You look good, V," he said, turning slightly in his seat.

You blinked nervously, glancing over your shoulder to meet his gaze then back to your drink. "You do too, River."

He huffed at your response, rolling his tongue back and forth in his mouth before resting his mechanical hand on your shoulder. River used his weight to swivel you around to face him, but your eyes stayed glued to his lap.

"Do I, V? You sure about that?" He began, his voice holding an ounce of venom.

So this was how it was starting. You nodded meekly, not wanting to meet his gaze. "Y-yeah."

River grabbed your chin and forced you look meet his gaze. His eye was narrowed, his optic cinching in scrutiny. The saliva in your throat was congealing now, turning to a glob lodged in the back of your throat.

He gave your face a once over then scoffed mirthlessly.

"You look like you've seen a ghost, V."

You opened your mouth to respond but River shook his head.

"You're the last person I wanted to fucking call, you know that."

At that, your eyes flitted with the sudden stinging threat of tears. You didn't know that you'd react that way to him.

River exhaled deeply, lining his thumb along your bottom lip. "I thought you were good, V. I thought you could help me."

Your bottom lip began to pout out but River folded his thumb against it. "Don't do that. I can't up and forgive you for that."

"I-I know..." you managed.

River gulped then, dragging your bottom lip down to reveal your bottom teeth before letting your chin go. He scoffed and turned back to the bar counter.

"Another drink over here," he called out, holding his hand up to get the bartender's attention.

You watched as he hunched forward, taking a few deep breaths as his shoulders rolled up and down. You started to turn back to the counter, let him wallow in himself, but River returned to his place before you.

"You fucked up big time, V. You know that, don't you?" He bit out, his tone threatening water in your eyes.

You nodded. Johnny appeared in the bar booth directly across from the two of you, grimacing at the series of events.

"You are such a puppy for him. Look at you, V, crying for him."

You ignored your brain worm, unconsciously leaning forward into River. He held his hand out to your shoulder again, shaking his head at you.

"I don't know what to fucking do with you now," River said with a grimace, his top lip curling back with a sneer. "I look at you and I want to be so mad, but..."

His voice trailed off and he turned to the presence of the bartender refilling his drink; the man spared a few glances between you and River then left without another word.

"Randy's alive," he said finally. "He's got a long journey ahead, but goddammit V, if we'd been three minutes sooner..."

Your bottom lip quavered then and River didn't stop it. He leaned in to sigh in your face, his nose nudging against yours.

"When I close my eyes, I see how it could've been with you. Then I remember what happened and I'm torn."

You tilted your chin up, almost ready to kiss him but he tore away from you.

"I'm sorry, River. I can't say that enough, I-I..."

River groaned just before you, resting his forehead to yours with a deep breath.

"You do look good, though," you offered in a whisper. You couldn't offer to say anything else, knowing it'd be a backhanded compliment on his part.

"You do too," River responded, pulling away again to grab his drink.

He downed the glass in a large gulp then nodded at your drink. "Finish up, I'm ready to go."

River instructed you where to drive from the bar, out to the river that cut through Night City.

He climbed out of the car and leaned against it, waiting for you to follow suit. You did so, keeping some distance between the two of you.

"I shouldn't blame you..." River began, crossing his arms tight before his chest. "It's just that it's easier that blaming myself."

He tilted his head up to the sky, shut his eyes tight. "I almost got Randy killed, V. I almost let that bastard win."

You reached a hand out as if to console him, but it fell back to your side. "But you didn't."

"In the nick of time," River shook his head up at the sky. "I was too busy wasting time with you that I forgot what my priorities are."

You turned to face the river. That hurt. You didn't meant to be a distraction, just like River wasn't meant to be that for you either.

"I thought about it a lot, when I was locked up, about what I'd say to you in this moment and now it all comes out wrong."

You looked over to him then back at the river, holding in whatever you wanted to say. This seemed more important to him than forgiving you.

"I liked you, V...fuck, I like you. I want to hold you and scream at you and kiss you and...shit," River turned his head away from you as his chest rose and fell in another huff. "I can't gauge myself with you. I'm scared of what I want more from you right now."

His confession caused you to freeze, not knowing what he meant by that statement. You tried to breathe easy but it came out shaky.

River pushed off from your car and exclaimed a frustrated yell across the chasm of water. You jolted at the sound, how his fists tightened on the rail. His back flexed in a way that was foreboding, intimidating.

He'd gotten thicker since he was in prison. His entire demeanor was on the cusp of something darker than before.

Your fingers trembled against your forearms, not making any sudden movements to the man before you. River turned around to face you, his brows casting over his gaze as he cut the distance to you.

Your breath reeled in as he came closer, stiffening to his presence just before you. His hand grabbed at your throat, his fingers edging along your skin as if weighing the thought of choking you.

River pulled you in, his eyes half-mast, as he smashed his lips to yours. You gasped your mouth open, taking the sliver of affection he offered.

Johnny's voice echoed in the back of your mind, you were putty for this man, no matter how he treated you. You wanted to be in with him and anything he offered to get there was something you'd take.

River's hand drifted down to brace your collar, slowly pushing you away from him. "Get in the car, V."

You withheld a whine, keeping your face unfazed as you walked around the front of the car to climb in the driver's seat.

You waited for River to get in, then gripped the steering wheel of anticipation of the next location. River was cold now, calculated and quiet as he pulled his seat to recline all the way back.

"Come here," he ordered softly, lifting your center console and patting his thigh for you to sit.

You carefully followed his direction, moving over to sit in his lap then sliding your knees on either side of his waist.

River gulped, raising his head to look at the sight of you sat on him. He sat up and reached for your shirt, peeling it off of you with little resistance from you.

You folded your arms to your chest, your hands ghosting along his jaw as he glared at you from under his brow. He placed his hand on the back of your neck and forced his lips to yours again; River's other hand wasted no time wading down the front of your pants.

You clenched at his hand, his fingers slipping between your hips to touch your already-wet pussy. River sucked on his teeth as he pulled away, scoffing with a dark smile at what he found.

"You been wet the whole time?" He asked lowly.

His voice was such a gravel, a condescending tone that you almost didn't answer him. But you nodded meekly.

River's dark smile grew, his eyes raking up and down your body. "You been wet since I called you?"

You shut your eyes, embarrassed by his accusation. Still you nodded.

"You still like me," River offered, leaning further to kiss your shoulder. "I guess I'm not the only one conflicted then."

You relaxed an inch, allowing River to kiss along your shoulder while his other hand began to scrub at your clit. You released a whine then, tilting your head back to the ceiling of the cab.

"I want to fuck you so badly," he muttered against your neck, enveloping a patch of skin with his tongue and lips.

He sucked in, suctioning your skin against his teeth before he tenderly bit at your flesh. Your hands went for his shoulder and wrist hanging from your jeans respectively, trying to ease the confusing rush in your stomach.

River being all over you made you feel stuck in a vice, the shame he made you feel now stripped away with how good he felt against you.

"Take these off," he ordered softly, referring to your pants.

You reached for the waist of your jeans and wriggled them down your ass until River leaned you against him to push them to your ankles. He waited as you pulled the legs of your pants over your shoes and to the floor of the car.

"Good girl," River praised, returning his hand just against your clit with his mouth to your neck again, starting on a new wet spot.

You spread your legs out on his lap, allowing him further touch on your pussy. You felt his cock through his jeans, braced hard against his zipper.

You curled your arm around River, now holding him to you as he dotted your skin with hickeys. He placed his hands on your hips and rocked them forward, making you notice his strained cock again.

"Do you want to fuck me?" He asked against your skin, taking another long drag of his tongue.

You nodded again, now panting as River stopped scrubbing at your clit to pet at your inside thigh, the soft skin wetting with his fingers.

River returned his gaze to yours, tilting his chin to urge a kiss from you. "I can't promise I'll go easy with you."

"Okay," you managed to whisper before his lips.

River swallowed deeply, his mouth opening to accommodate yours then forcing his tongue inside. You crossed your other arm around his neck and shifted closer on his lap, feeling River's hands slide down the backs of your thighs.

He kissed you deeply, his breaths rolling with yours, causing your chests to rise and fall in unison. River rocked your hips softly against him, straining his groans into your mouth before he shifted to rest you on the car seat.

A growl began to grow deep within his chest, his soft lids now squeezing shut as he bit at your lip.

You winced, pulling back to catch your breath before returning to him. River forced your hips against his sheathed cock, grinding into you and causing you to whine again.

"Sorry," he grimaced, pulling your arms away from his neck and flopping back onto the passenger seat.

"Roll over," River ordered, grabbing your hips and immediately aiding you with his request.

Your hands braced the shoulders of the passenger seat as you looked back at River. He peeled the bottom of his shirt up, holding the hem between his teeth before impatiently shoving the waistband of his pants down.

River lined his cock up between your cheeks, slipping his head further down before meeting your wet entrance; he snarled at the temptation, his arm circling around your waist to line you up on him.

"Deep breath," he eased out before pushing himself in, causing you to grip the shoulders of the seat and bracing as he slid further inside.

River's cock was hot and thick, his tip slowly pushing past your g-spot and instantly bottoming to your cervix. Your ankle turned in with a soft wince, your knees viced together.

"Easy," River muttered, planting his knees between yours and pushing a bit further for his hips to come flush with your ass.

You whimpered, your hand reaching out to stop him. "T-that's too much..."

River cooed, leaning in as he let his hem from his mouth. "Poor V, too much for you?"

He patronized though he was considerate to pull out an inch. "I thought you were a big girl, so tough."

Your brows scrunched at his words, a mixture of shame and embarrassment along with the bit of pain in the midst of hot pleasure.

"We're just getting started, baby," River seethed, his mouth pressed directly to your ear. His tongue tempted out, violating the shell of it before pulling back to grab the back of your neck.

River held your waist further up, his fingers going to your clit but not touching it. He started an easy pace, one that continually shifted you on the leather car seat.

Your chest started to heave the more you got into it, feeling River's hot body skirt over you while his cock slid in and out.

His hand curled around to the front of your neck, bending over you to tilt your head up to meet his gaze.

"You're a filthy little bitch, aren't you?" He hissed between strokes.

Your eyes watered, staring up at this man that you loved, hated. You nodded meekly and River's eyes went opaque as coals.

His fingers trailed up your chin before prying your mouth open.

"Answer me," River barked, slamming his hips hard into you and causing a loud whimper to escape your mouth.

"Y-Yes," you answered, tears suddenly streaking your cheeks.

River growled again, easing out of you and returning to his steady pace.

"You love me, don't you?" he asked, his breathing turning to a hot pant as the cabin windows began to fog up.

"Y-y-yes," you cried out, feeling his fingers curl over your teeth as you drooled on his digits.

River pulled his fingers from your mouth to kiss you harshly, his other hand rubbing softly at your clit.

"Do you like being fucked like I hate you?" He asked as he pulled away. "Do you like being fucked like a filthy slut?"

Your eyes squeezed as you moaned out, feeling caught up in the combination of sensations enveloping you. You nodded eagerly, hoping that speaking your truth would make it all slow down.

"Fuck," River gasped, leaning in to kiss you again, violate your mouth with his tongue. "I love you, V. Fuck, I love you."

His confession tangled you with his conflicting actions, his hand on your throat, his harsh thrusts. You braced a hand out to slow him down but with another stroke, you were done.

You came on his cock while he pumped, moaning into his mouth and agreeing with his sentiment; yes, you loved him too. You loved that he fucked you like he hated you. Yes, you wanted him this whole time.

The more he pumped, the more the ecstasy lingered, dragging out your high with the heat in the car.

"Now apologize," River growled into your mouth, his hand on your throat tightening an inch.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you whimpered, suddenly coming again and drenching your thighs with your wetness.

"You were a bad girl, weren't you? Say you were a bad girl," River panted.

Your back caved in to the seat, angling your hips up to take more of him in. "I was a bad girl, I was a real bad girl."

River pulled you in for another long kiss. "Bad girl, that's right. But you're my good girl, now."

Your tongue lolled out of your mouth, following River's thrusts as the pleasure started to sting throughout your body. "I'm a good girl."

"Fuck yes, you are," River huffed, releasing your throat and forcing you down by the back of your neck. He thrusted out of sync, panting a little more before hissing and pulling out.

You lost the strength in your knees as he let you go; turning over in the seat, your chest was painted with long strings of River's cum.

He came on your chest, then angled down to your belly before pumping his cock a few more times to sprinkle some of his cum on your clit.

"Shit," River exhaled, bracing a knee between yours on the edge of the seat.

His large body took up over the half of the car, the way he was hunched over you. You caught your breath just as he did, watching as he pulled his pants back up and buttoned them.

River leaned away from you, his back awkwardly hitting the windshield. "I'm so sorry, V. I-I got carried away."

You still stared at him, a sudden furrow of your brows threatening fresh tears. Then you were crying.

"Oh fuck, Val," River cooed, reaching out to brace your face.

He shifted into the seat and allowed you to drape over him while you cried into his chest.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I tried my hardest, I did!" You unraveled before this man you hated, loved.

Cherished.

"There wasn't a moment I wasn't thinking of saving him, I didn't mean for all that to happen," you heaved into his chest.

River shushed you softly, his hands going to soothe your back and shoulder.

"It's okay, V. I put too much pressure on you," River finally said while you tried to catch your breath. "I shouldn't have gotten so upset with you. It's that rat bastard's fault."

You took a few sniffling breaths, glancing up at River with his eyes glistening now.

"I shouldn't have pushed you away. I needed you and I pushed you away." River stretched his neck to kiss your forehead. "I'm sorry for doing that."

You sniveled against his chest again, feeling his arm curl around you with a comforting squeeze.

"I do love you, V," River offered after a few moments of silence. "Even at the end of the disgusting bitterness I held against you, I still love you."

You let it sink in for a moment, letting his confession pass with another beat before you nuzzled your head just beneath his chin.

"I love you, too, River."

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

(me, hiding behind my hand with the 😗 face) i know i did that poll but i never said i'd only do one of the options

look, sometimes i like soft but i needed river to be a hardass for a moment, just to see if he could.

also @almightywdm and @vox-monstera come get y'alls juice; river followers eatin' good today or somethin'

[itsamatterofhonor]

Starter for @ranchloved

He was hurt. In more ways than one. He couldn't move much in his current condition and depended on Silva for pretty much everything, which he hated. In, also, more ways than one. Silva had only come to him for his son, had bedded him for his son. He hated him for it. Silva played with his heart, said Jake had never loved him, and then had even shot him. Silva was right about one thing, no one would believe Silva shot him after he had taken care of Jake. He had to blame it on the son too, which had ran away much to his dismay.

Jake wakes up to the smell of dinner. He groans in pain as he shuffles on the bed and opens his eyes. Silva is walking in with a bowl and sits by his side. He glares at him as the man tries to feed him and he just looks away refusing the meal. One, he could feed himself. Two, he would not eat from what he had to offer.

Silva leaves after trying a few times and leaves the bowl behind. After a while he gets hungry so, with a sigh and rather reluctantly, he takes the bowl and starts to eat. Its not nearly as good as his own but its edible. After he's done he tries to get up but, instead, hisses in pain and feels like sobbing. Not from the physical pain but the heartache.

He sits on the bed with difficulty, hissing and holding his side. He wants to go to the bathroom because he knows he can't leave just yet. He depends on Silva for that. He stands up holding the blanket around his waist and starts walking around. Until he stumbles with Silva. He doesn't say a word, he just growls at him. "Where's the toilet. And don't say you'll help me because I don't want your filthy hands on me."

[ranchloved]

He was hurt. In more ways than one. He couldn't move much in his current condition and depended on Silva for pretty much everything, which he hated. In, also, more ways than one. Silva had only come to him for his son, had bedded him for his son. He hated him for it. Silva played with his heart, said Jake had never loved him, and then had even shot him. Silva was right about one thing, no one would believe Silva shot him after he had taken care of Jake. He had to blame it on the son too, which had ran away much to his dismay. Jake wakes up to the smell of dinner. He groans in pain as he shuffles on the bed and opens his eyes. Silva is walking in with a bowl and sits by his side. He glares at him as the man tries to feed him and he just looks away refusing the meal. One, he could feed himself. Two, he would not eat from what he had to offer. Silva leaves after trying a few times and leaves the bowl behind. After a while he gets hungry so, with a sigh and rather reluctantly, he takes the bowl and starts to eat. Its not nearly as good as his own but its edible. After he's done he tries to get up but, instead, hisses in pain and feels like sobbing. Not from the physical pain but the heartache. He sits on the bed with difficulty, hissing and holding his side. He wants to go to the bathroom because he knows he can't leave just yet. He depends on Silva for that. He stands up holding the blanket around his waist and starts walking around. Until he stumbles with Silva. He doesn't say a word, he just growls at him. "Where's the toilet. And don't say you'll help me because I don't want your filthy hands on me."

a parent would do anything for their child, would endure the worst, would give up the one thing they loved the most - if only to know their child was safe. silva was no exception. he loved his son with all his flaws, no matter the crime he committed. had he made mistakes? surely, but he couldn't change it now. joe was who he was & even if silva was angry & disappointed in him, but he still wanted him to be safe. even if that meant giving up the one thing he'd yearned for all his life.

jake.

for the past twenty-five years, silva had fought with himself, trying so hard not to give in to the urge. jake put a desert between them, it was clear he didn't love silva. he never did, no matter how much felt for him. for the longest time he thought jake might, but after they ..reconnected, after jake refused to even look at him now that he was satisfied & sober, silva knew. he thought the sheriff would ... that he would.. help him. that their love was undeniable & wonderful & that their night of passion would make him realize that so he'd show mercy on his son.

for him.

but he was wrong. there was no love in jake's heart. not for him, not for anybody. so .. he'd picked up the pieces of his broken heart & went to salvage the relationship with his son. send him off on his merry way to mexico. after that? he didn't know. he only had the ranch left now. but of course jake didn't give up. he'd never meant for it to go this way. hurting jake was the last thing he wanted to do, but he'd seen no other way. jake was too stubborn for his own good.

he still was, now, fighting his every move. stop it, please let me love you. he set the bowl aside, there was no force-feeding jake, he knew that. soup was left behind in the room while silva went to check on the horse jake brought, making sure it was bound in front of the house, safely. when he came back inside, he almost bumped into the other, too lost in thought until his voice rang in his ears.

"you can't be walking." soft hiss covered in concern, arms shooting out instantly to hold him, but they ..hover when he growled. his words cut deep, his brow twitching. "you'll hurt yourself and stay longer. is that what you want? i don't think so." if jake hated him as much as he said, he'd let silva help him. arms finally closed the distance, pushing his body underneath his arm & against his side, jake's arm over his shoulder to help lift his weight, his own arm around the sheriff's waist as he helped him walk to the bathroom.

jake could fight, he could growl & hate him, but he'd see this through until he was healthy enough to leave. probably forever. "hate me, but i will help you until you are better."

[safetycar-restart]

Alright bestie, let’s have some 💧💧 for Marcus:

Im thinking he has a shy bladder? And also maybe a previous dom who didn’t care about his boundaries or feelings? So you want to try holding in public, and he’s really uncomfortable with that (because he won’t be able to use a public toilet if he safewords) but he’s afraid you will ridicule him, so he goes along with it. You both go to a cafe and get him an extra large coffee and you make sure he drinks the whole thing, then go walk around a park. He’s getting really full and squirmy, whimpering from how badly he needs to go. He’s super anxious about wetting himself in public, and really uncomfortable, but too afraid to say anything. Eventually his tummy starts to get swollen and distended from how full his bladder is, and it’s really starting to hurt, but he’s too scared to tell you…I’ll let you take it from there…

GAH THIS IS SO GOOD BUT SO ANGSTY WHY MUST YOU DO THIS TO ME (just kidding please continue to do this to me I love this)

Firstly, Marcus genuinely loves watersports. He enjoys it so much, loves the desperation and the feeling he gets when he just can't hold on anymore. And he loves to watched while he struggles, loves to have someone else to clean him up and comfort him when it's over, someone whose arms he can crawl into once he's cleaned up.

So he's so excited when you say you're into watersports, and he can't wait to try it with you. You're much more attentive than his previous dom was, and so he has no doubt that watersports will be even better with you.

He's imagining spending a day at home with you, getting more and more desperate as the day goes by until eventually he's leaking on your lap, crying and begging for permission and ending up sprinting to the shower were he absolutely soaks himself. And then he gets endless cuddles and praise.

But then he'd discussing it with you and your first suggestion is that you two go out together and he isn't allowed to use the bathroom until you get home. It's just one of many suggestions, and if he said no then you would have just moved on to another idea without a second thought.

Except that's not what Marcus's previous dom was like. His old dom would always be very specific about their wants and was never willing to compromise. He learned he always had to agree to the first suggestion, as that was what his dom really wanted.

So he said yes. Even though he knew he didnt want it, he agreed to it and you set a time and place.

He regrets it the moment he starts to get desperate. He wants to go home immediately, wants to sit on the couch with you and hide in your arms and play video games until he can't hold it, where he's safe in his own home. But he can't, because that would make you unhappy.

(It wouldn't of course, but that doesn't matter, he doesn't know that)

You watch a movie in theatres with him and then head to lunch. By the time he reaches the restaurant, it's getting bad. If he was home, he would be able to wait a fair while. But he's not home and he's so scared of wetting himself and he hates public toilets at the best of times.

You, meanwhile, have noticed his distress but think it's because he's getting desperate, which is the entire point of this so you don't say anything.

He's gotten himself in an awful situation now, because even if he safe words out, he doesn't know if he can make himself go at the restaurant bathroom even though he's so desperate and doesn't want to wet himself.

You ask for his colour again, because he's not acting like he usually does when desperate, and he takes a bit too long to answer for your liking. So you ask if he's okay, if he wants to end this, if he wants go go home.

He looks up at you and you see tears in his eyes. Instantly you're calling the waiter and asking for the bill. You don't care the food is only half eaten and that Marcus technically hasn't safe worded yet. You are ending this right now.

You tell him he can go to the bathroom if he wants, that you won't be upset.

But to your surprise he shakes his head and says no, he cant. That's when you realise he has a shy bladder. Your break breaks for him, feeling like you've failed him as a dom because you didnt realise his discomfort earlier.

Later, once he's back home and safe and feeling okay, you'll ask him why he didnt tell you that originally and work out how to make sure this never happens again. But for now your main priority is making sure Marcus is alright.

You ask Marcus if he can make the drive home, and he doesn't know.

Well, he does. Logically he knows from experience that he should be able to hold it until you get home quite easily. But he's panicking and not thinking straight and he just wants this to be over.

You end up going into the family bathroom with him, locking the door behind the two of you and hugging him from behind, taking his cock out for him and letting him lean back against you. He's able to let go then, focusing on the warm of your chest against his back.

And then it's right home with him and tomorrow you'll have the discussion that needs to be had.

Mostly, Marcus feels so guilty because you treated him so well. You helped him every step of the way and weren't even a little disappointed. He realises then that he could have been honest from the start and he could have had an amazing watersports scene with you in the safety of home but instead he forced himself to try your very first suggestion and ruined the whole day.

It's a tough lesson, but he won't make the same mistake twice.

[rpf-bat]

Samy x Joel (if okay!?) (platonic or romantic is up to you) with either 12 or 15 and feel free to make it a bit angsty ❤️‍🩹😌

12. “No one’s ever done this for me before…”

15. “It’ll take more than that to get rid of me.”

I managed to work them both in there! This wound up being 1,074 words. I hope you like it :)

Samy was so happy that he’d been able to score tickets for the Rammstein concert. 

The opening act, Duo Abelard, had been better than he’d expected. Now, they were breaking down their equipment, in order to set up for the main act. He couldn’t wait to hear the infamous German band play. 

“Hey, Taz,” Samy blinked, turning to his side, “is Joel not back from the bathroom yet?”

“Nah,” Taz shook his head. “Maybe the line was long?”

“Maybe, but it’s been like half an hour,” Samy frowned. “I would hate for him to miss the first song.” 

Secretly, Samy had another reason to be disappointed. When he’d first invited Joel to the concert, he’d meant it as a date. But, Joel had missed that memo, and suggested inviting Taz and Vilme, too. 

Or maybe he didn’t miss the memo, Samy thought, frowning. Maybe he’s just not interested. 

“….Do you want to go look for him?” Vilme suggested. “I mean, I would do it myself. But if he is still in the men’s bathroom, then that’s obviously not someplace I can go.” 

“Right,” Samy chuckled. Maybe there was a reasonable explanation. Maybe Joel had gotten in line for beer on his way back from the bathroom. But, Samy just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. 

And so, off he went, towards the back of the venue. What he saw when he got near the toilets, made him realize that his instincts had been right. 

A young man - probably somewhere between eighteen and twenty- was sitting on the ground, with blood pouring from his nose. 

One of his friends was trying to wipe the blood away, while the other was pacing back and forth, muttering angrily. 

“I can’t believe he fucking punched you!” the guy cried. “You just wanted a picture with the singer from Blind Channel! Is that too much to ask?”

What…?! Samy stopped in his tracks, unable to believe his ears. 

“He thinks he can get away with that, just because he’s a celebrity? We should go beat him up for you,” the other friend suggested. 

Fuck, I really need to find Joel before they do, Samy realized, dark eyes going wide. 

He turned a corner, and entered the mens’ bathroom. That was where he found Joel. 

He was pacing back and forth in front of the sinks, clearly freaking out. His eyeliner was running, like he’d shed a tear or two. 

“Dude, what the hell happened just now?” Samy cried. 

“I…I messed up,” Joel mumbled, clearly agitated. “Fuck. I really messed up. This is going to reflect so poorly on the band…Niko and the others are gonna be so angry…”

“Hey,” Samy said in the calmest voice he could manage. He reached up, and put a reassuring hand on Joel’s shoulder. 

The blonde stopped pacing immediately. 

“Joel, I know you wouldn’t just punch somebody for no reason,” Samy said seriously, looking his friend in the eye. “You’re not that kind of guy. So, take a deep breath, and tell me what happened.” 

“I…I was using the urinal,” Joel explained. “I was literally in the middle of taking a piss, and suddenly this random stranger taps me on the back. It really startled me.” 

“Seriously?” Samy’s eyes widened. 

“Yeah!” Joel cried. “He wanted a picture. Normally, I don’t mind posing with fans. Obviously Blind Channel would be absolutely nothing without our fans. But…”

“But when you’ve got your dick in your hand, that’s not the time to ask!” Samy interrupted, flabbergasted that the fan could even think that was appropriate. “You’re not working right now. This isn’t a meet and greet - it’s supposed to be your personal time.” 

“I told him no, and he didn’t want to accept that answer,” Joel sighed. “I just wanted to pull my pants up and wash my hands! But, he wouldn’t leave me alone.” 

“So, you had to get physical, in order to get him away from you,” Samy realized. 

“I can see the headline in the tabloids tomorrow,” Joel moaned miserably, burying his face in his hands. “Joel Hokka Beats Up Teenager.” 

“I don’t think he was a high schooler or anything,” Samy shook his head. “Probably a university student. Definitely old enough to know better.” 

“It was still wrong,” Joel sighed with a guilty look. “I don’t ever want people to think that I don’t care about my fans. Of course I care about them! But…”

“But that dude crossed a line,” Samy nodded. “Shit, man. In a way I’m kind of glad that my band isn’t quite as big as yours yet. I can still leave my house, and live my life here in Helsinki, without people acting like fucking lunatics.” 

“…I made myself look like a lunatic,” Joel said sadly. 

“No, it’s understandable that you reacted the way you did,” Samy assured him. “But look, man, we need to get you out of here. I heard that guy’s friends talking. They said they were going to come back here, and try and fight you.”

“Two against one?” Joel scowled. “That’s hardly fair.”

“Don’t worry,” Samy shook his head. “If they find you in the crowd tonight, it’ll be two against two. I’ll back you up.”

“Really?” Joel gasped, red creeping into his pale cheeks. “No one’s ever done that for me before…”

“Yes, really!” Samy insisted. “What kind of friend would I be if I didn’t defend you?” 

How could I possibly judge Joel? Samy thought to himself. How many stupid bar fights did I get into, in the first few years of being in Lost Society? I was a drunk idiot. But, Mirko and Arttu always jumped in to help me, even when it was totally my own fault. 

“I wouldn’t blame you, if you told me I was on my own,” Joel mumbled, staring down at the bathroom floor. “I wouldn't even blame you, if you said you didn’t want to go to a concert with me ever again. I mean. You watched me make a fool of myself tonight.” 

“It’ll take more than that to get rid of me,” Samy smiled, putting an arm around Joel. “Come on. Let’s get back in the pit. The show’s about to start.” 

“Samy, I…,” Joel hesitated, looking choked up. “I don’t deserve you. As a friend, or as….”

Samy froze. 

“….As what?” he asked hesitantly.

Could it be that Joel was interested in him after all? 

[distopea]

I want to know a bit more about Oliver's daily life! When he's not attending clients, how does he spend his day? What kind of place does he live in? Does he have any other relatives/friends/etc? How often is he performing and dancing? Or any other ideas you have yet to share about him! 👀

@cantuscorvi

His daily life, without thinking about his escort life for Oliver, is quite decent these days, even if he's tight about money. Yet, the main goal remains the same; he has to be active! He moves around a lot. 

Most of the time, he will wake up (not that early) and exercise in his living room, mostly to stretch his muscles and be sure that he doesn't have anything broken (he needs to be thoroughly careful with that anyway). If he has something in the fridge, he will definitely make himself some mocha coffee, with a salty breakfast and fruits. 

When he doesn't have dancing lessons (and then spend perhaps half of his day there), he will go to different stores depending on the mood. He likes to hang out in record stores (he loves vinyl), clothes stores, decorative stores, and then he will spend some time in a cosy café to get his daily dose of sugar; cakes with milkshake, or whatever sweet they have on the menu, and read something or listen to music.

During the late afternoon, Oliver will either spend time with acquaintances he knows from the dancing school (those who are terribly not aware of his other life), or have a walk by himself. He particularly likes to eat something out. He doesn't mind the kind of food, but usually he will prefer sitting down in a park and enjoying large snacks because he's more into junk food (restaurants are often too expensive and he hates not being able to afford it). 

If he still has energy, Oliver will go to bars or clubs and might end up coming home only very late at night (if not in the morning.)  

For his apartment, Oliver has found a place where he feels finally at home and cosy. It's only one bedroom, but it's enough space for him (he doesn't like to invite people there after all). Right away, you enter the open kitchen with the living room (the two most spacious spaces), with a bar to eat and a place to watch movies and read. 

There's a corridor on the left side of the living room, with three rooms. At the end of the corridor, the bedroom can be found, small but enough to have a rack of clothes and a large bed. On the left of the corridor, separate toilets and, on the right, his bathroom (old, but at least with a bathtub!). It's also very important for Oliver to have plants and carpets a bit everywhere. No photos to be found, though. 

[kalyri]

Yet another “I suddenly remembered” from me—after midnight when my brain just decides to randomly go off on its own, wandering through memories.

This one’s got transphobia and I hate it.

I was a trucker for the last four years of my life, and during my… second year? I think? Yeah, I was in my automatic instead of the manual. Anyway, I’d worked all day, probably close to 10 hours driving so like a 12 hour work day. Pretty typical of my mid to late work week at the time.

And I wanna say I was in Alabama. I could probably tell you exactly where this Pilot was, but I’ll leave that out. Anyway, I was exhausted, I was hungry, and I really had to pee, so I went into the bathroom. And I tended to sit in there for a good long while because walking the half a mile from my truck to the store to pee wasn’t something I wanted to do more than twice in a night. So I’m sitting there and I’m not paying attention to anything, people come in and leave. It’s a bathroom, most people are in there for 1 of 2 things.

Well, suddenly someone’s banging on my door. I make a noise, like mm? And she says something but I don’t fucking know what it was, I’m hard of hearing. So I ask her to repeat it and she says it again, but still not loud enough and I said “I don’t know” or something. Idk. I had no idea why she was knocking on stall door, there were like 4 stalls and I was the only one in there before she came in.

So I think nothing of it, but she’s being loud with her children—what I assumed were two boys at the time. She leaves soon after and then maybe five minutes later someone else comes in and pounds on the door and asks me a question. I ask him to repeat it and he does: “what’s your gender?” In more words than that, but you could tell he was uncomfortable. And I asked him why? He said he just needed me to answer and then like the bottom dropped out from under me. Because I could simply answer what he wants to hear—but I instead say “why does it matter? I’m using the toilet.” And he tries to get me to answer again, I don’t and he sighs and leaves.

And I continue scrolling like Facebook or tumblr or ao3 or whatever and then I think about it—I’m in Alabama… they could call the cops on me, lol. So I say fuck it, wash my hands, and leave. And I can feel eyes on me. The ladies behind the check out counter—my plan of getting McDonald’s goes out the window and I leave through the trucker entrance. And I call my mom. Because I’m shaking.

This lady knew nothing about me, but made an assumption based on the only thing she could see—my work boots. And then made another assumption on the only thing she knew—the pitch of my voice, which isn’t high on a normal day, and definitely wasn’t that night because at the end of a long work day, the last thing I want to do is mask for strangers. So I don’t.

I’m non-binary. Visibly not feminine, but not exactly masculine. I was wearing jeans, tshirt, and my work boots—which just looked like low-rise hiking boots because my feet are weird and I can’t wear calf high footwear.

Like it doesn’t surprise me that it happened. Some people are just hateful and refuse to mind their own business. But it’s so much different when it happens to you. And I was reminded of that just a few minutes ago because my brain just likes to throw random memories at me for no reason some days and today it was that one.

I made a point of avoiding that truck stop for at least a month afterwards. There’s a few more on that stretch of interstate that are better anyway…