#Backpacks with multiple compartments | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pubes-xxx3 · 1 month ago

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i haven't written fanfics in forever but this came to me in a dream after seing more and more Tom Taylor/Cregan content.

i'm not a native speaker and i'm not willing to go to length to write proper english, so this is all i can offer.

this fic is loosely inspired by my own backpacking trip where i was stuck in a train somewhere in austria and things would've been so much better if they ended up like this:

A Game of UNO

everybody has had a crush on a stranger on public transport, right? this is a story about how briefly meeting one of the most handsome men ever has turned your life upside down (always wanted to use that cringe sentence somehow lol)

warnings: a bit of smut, fingering, cunnilingus, handjob, blowjob, semi-public 'sex'

words: ~8.5k

this is set in the modern world, somewhereon the tracks of eastern europe.

also loosely inspied by this story from toms insta because if that man was sitting in front of me in a train, i would forget myself

https://x.com/tomtaylorfiles/status/1832120778034237528?s=19

you struggled as you tried to squeeze past multiple other patrons trying to find an empty seat, your backpack getting caught on door handles or in tight spaces as you tried to be as little of a nuisance as possible.

it was only your second week of backpacking, yet you already had enough of it. currently traveling from croatia to slovenia, you were already struggling with the scorching august heat.

it was hot.

you felt sticky.

your travel-buddy injured himself and had to cut your backpacking trip short.

the last thing the universe could grant you was a decent seat near an open window, preferably without anyone getting into close proximity to you.

just as you finished that thought you reached the end of the train wagon.

an annoyed sigh left your lips as you tried to shimmy around, your backpack trapping you once again in the narrow hallway leading past the secluded compartments of the train.

once you managed to make a 180° you were met with blue eyes from the other end of the hallway.

most people managed to find some place to sit, so you were able to get a clear view of the tall brunette smiling at you.

“no seats?” he asked, and you shake your head. “nothing available i fear…” you said as he approached you, double checking the seating-situation through the glass doors of the compartments on his way over to you.

“i guess we’ll have to take the floor then” he said as he hauled his own backpack off his shoulders, letting it fall to the floor with a thump loud enough to make you fear he put a hole in the floor of the old train.

you eye him carefully as he opens one of the many zippers of the backpack to pull out some random cardgame “you know how to play?”

by now it’s obvious that he does not plan on enjoying the train ride separately, so much for nobody getting into close proximity.

you shake your head.

“i only know mau mau…” you admit ashamed.

his confused eyes met yours as he was about to settle on the floor, his lips pulling into a smirk.

“what, like a cat’s noise?”

you sigh again as you struggle to take your backpack off, “no… I mean it does sound like it, but it's a lot like UNO. just with different cards.”

as you finally managed to let your bag fall to the floor, you let out an annoyed huff before you dropped to the floor yourself, propping your back against your tightly packed luggage.

“i would show you how to play but my brother took the deck of cards with him”

“where is your brother?” the strange man asks as he sits down as well, and you couldn’t help but notice how his muscular thighs bulged under his linen shorts.

“had to take a plane home.” you tell him

“we wanted to backpack through the EU together to celebrate his graduation but the idiot broke his foot on a hike not even a week after we left home.” you keep on rambling.

while you were talking the guy in front of you started to dig through his backpack without lifting his gaze from yours.

“well, i’m sorry to hear that. hope he’s having a quick recovery.”

you can only nod as you watch random stuff from his bag fall in his lap as he’s going deeper into it.

“i’m y/n by the way, sorry for blubbering around.”

“it’s fine. i’m cregan” he answers as he triumphantly pulls another cardgames’ box from gis luggage before placing it between you on the floor “nice to meet you!”

as you realized what he’d searched his bag for you couldn’t help but smile “i thought since you knew a game like UNO, might as well try the real thing.”

nodding and smiling at him, you grab the deck and start shuffling the cards while he stuffs the few stray items back into his backpack.

“may i ask where you’re from? i’m guessing the UK but i’m not sure… i’m not that great with accents” you say as you lay out the cards for each of you.

“well, i guess its not that hard to tell in my case” he laughs “i’m from northern england”

“so scottish?”

“not that far up north”

he smirks at you and you can’t help but laugh, his eyes wandering over your frame as you’re distracted with sorting your cards. he does the same, laying down a red 7 on the foundation card.

“your turn”

“IN WHAT UNIVERSE ARE YOU ALLOWED TO PUT TWO BLACK CARDS ON TOP OF EACH OTHER?”

his loud voice erupts through the train. it’s not the first time either, so at this point a few other travelers peak through the glassdoors to glare at you.

“what do you mean?” you laugh, acting innocent as he rambles about rules of the game you “clearly didn’t know or at least didn’t care about”

by now you were at the sixth round of the game and you had multiple disagreements about certain rules. the first few times were accidental, as you really did play a bit different than him, but by now it was out of principle.

the way his eyebrows carved into a deep frown each time, his hands frantically flapping around as he explains how fundamentally wrong you are with no real vigor to it: it was endearing to watch.

“i’m sorry cregan, but that's how i was taught to play” you shrug “it’s just like last time”

his lips are pressed into a tight line as he looks up at you again “it’s alright” he sighs as he puts down his last card “because i would’ve won anyways”

your mouth falls open as he snickers to himself, collecting the cards from the floor and plucking your remaining stack from your hands.

“one more round? i have to get off in two stops” he asks as he shuffles the deck once again

“sure” you smile, even though you would prefer it if he stayed.

the next stop comes and multiple people get off, as this is the last stop before crossing the border to slovenia.

a frown forms on your face as the first fat drops of rain hit the windows and the sky darkens considerably.

the rails snaked themselves through the scenic mountains of the balkans for quite some time now, but the sudden change of weather made the rocky slopes loom over you scarily, as if the sky was trapping you in and crushing you in the valley of two mountains.

the rain got heavier as you left the last town behind and it took only a few minutes before the first thunder erupted from the skies.

UNO was the last thing on your mind right now and cregan seemed to notice your change of mood.

“hey, it’s just a bit stormy. no need to worry.” he smiles at you as he reaches over to reassuringly grab your hand, squeezing it lightly to get your attention.

as your eyes met, the train came to an abrupt halt in its tracks.

the lights flickered for a moment and you held onto his hand tightly as you waited for someone to tell you what was going on.

soon enough the train attendant came by and tried to explain what was going on, the only thing you understood was that there was some rubble covering the tracks and that you had to wait.

great.

cregan reassured you that it would be fine and probably just take a little time, but after almost an hour passed you started to grow restless.

“listen, i know you are worried right now, but maybe we should try and get your mind off of this.”

as he spoke, he rose to his feet and offered you his hand once again. a blush crept up your neck and covered your cheeks at the suggestive tone in his voice.

you grab his hand quickly, letting him pull you up and standing a bit closer to him than really necessary.

“what do you have in mind?”

“you not hungry?” he asks through his mouth full of soup.

your eyebrow twitches as you sip your tea from a flimsy plastic cup “no, thanks for the drink tho”

apparently his idea of getting your mind of a thunderstorm rocking the still train was a lot different than yours.

as he pulled you to your feet in the hallway of the train wagon, you had realized how most of the compartments were empty by now. he had taken your backpacks, hauled them into the luggage racks of one of them before turning around smiling.

a chill went down your spine as he stepped closer, taking your hand in his once again before shooing you out the door again.

“let's get something to warm you up. your hands are freezing.” with that he started to lead the way towards the dining car.

you can’t help but feel a bit disappointed.

was it like you to just fuck a random stranger on the train? no.

did the last two hours of playing and laughing with cregan convince you that you actually liked that strange british guy? absolutely.

the way he talked to you, his laugh vibrating in your chest every time you used a proverb the wrong way while trying to seem savvy, his gaze always holding yours but scanning over you every time you looked away.

it made you crazy about him.

you also couldn’t help but notice that his thick thighs weren’t the only enticing thing about him. his choppy brown hair and stubble framing his face nicely, his shirt tightening around his chest every time he straightened his back and shoulders, and most importantly: the way he listened to everything you had to say with a look of genuine interest while staring you down.

it made you tingly all over again, thinking about the intense eye contact you held with him (something you usually struggled with).

your thoughts were disrupted by the noise of cregan's plastic spoon scraping up the rest of his suspicious looking soup.

you watched as he liked the spoon clean before tossing it away with the rest of your disposable cutlery, as you were also finished with your tea.

“can i do you for another one?” he offers, considering he had paid for your first drink already you just shook your head.

“thank you though. i think we should get back to the compartment, i don’t wanna leave the luggage alone for too long”

“fine, you can go ahead. i’ll get something for myself and then i’m right behind you”

by now almost two hours had passed since the train stopped. two hours you spent with the sweetest young man, telling you about his family and his travels.

you can’t help but sigh again as you reach the compartment, trying to think of the least awkward way to ask him for his number.

the inside of the train had cooled down considerably over the past few hours and you shiver as a draft brushes over your bare shoulders. trying to reach your bag to cover up was to no avail, as cregans considerably larger backpack was blocking yours.

you struggle as you try to free your sweatshirt from the bag one more time as the door slides open.

“need any help with that?” cregan asks as he shimmies past you to place a glass bottle down on the little desk below the window.

“yes please… it’s freezing and i can’t turn down the AC in here.” “here let me…”

he reaches past you and you duck, shying away last minute as his chest brushes your back.

he throws you a dark gray bundle rather than handing you your luggage. you frown at first before realizing he gave you a piece of his clothing to cover up.

you don’t comment on it, just pulling the soft half zip sweater over your head to not draw any further attention to your very prominent blush.

your nose is flooded with his smell, a nice combination of pine-scented deodorant and his personal musk. the soft wool of the sweater warms your skin quickly and you smile as your hand brushes over the small wolf emblem resting over your left pectoral.

“thank you…”

you smile down at him where he sat down next to the window, but before he could reply you frown at the beverage he brought with him from the dining car.

“is that… red wine?” you ask bewildered “what, were they out of any hard liquor?” you mockingly ask him as he takes the bottle to unscrew the cap.

“no, well… the train attendant came in as you left and informed us that because of the thunderstorm they can’t do any work on the railway. we’re gonna be here for a while so i thought we might as well get cozy” he smiles at you sheepishly.

you can’t help but roll your eyes at the news as you plop yourself in the seat next to his “maybe you should’ve started with that” you sigh before reaching over to grab the bottle from his hands

“it’s a nice idea though, let’s get comfy…” you smile at him as you take a swig from the bottle, the sour taste of cheap wine flooding your tongue.

“cheers!”

the compartment is filled with giggles and laughs as you finished half the bottle together, passing it back and forth between you.

“so, wait… you’re telling me you realized it was a musical after you had to audition for it with a musical number?” you spurt out as you wipe a tear from the corner of your eye.

apparently, cregan stark was a theatre kid. you also learned that his last name was stark, and that he comes from a family of gifted sportsmen, him being an aspiring ice hockey protege apart from his gift for theatre productions at his university.

“it wasn’t supposed to be a musical when i first got the script, i swear!!” he laughs as he takes another swig “who would expect a pop-musical production of King Lear?”

you shrug as you take the bottle from him again “i don’t know man, but still…” trying to remember what witty remark your drunk brain had prepared for him you look past him out the window, watching the rain pour down and forming small streams down the rocky side of the mountain.

“what was your favorite play? like, were you ever the lead or something?” your eyes find his again as you try to keep the conversation going, hazily reminding yourself that there was still something you wanted to ask of him.

“i was romeo once, in freshman year” he smiles shyly “don’t even know why i got the part, i was to nervous to remember any lines”

“they probably just wanted a handsome face for their lead” you giggle “the story wouldn’t make any sense if romeo wasn’t smoking hot”

“that's not true…” he says before taking another swig.

“yes it is, i mean come on… they were super young, they were basically told that they could be with anyone but the other, and they had to be super hot to find it enticing to run off with each other instead of just carrying on with their families rivalry”

you ramble along, remembering the lecture you held about this english class back in highschool

he looks confused as you carry on with your lecturing before putting a hand on your arm to pause you “no, that makes total sense and stuff, but i meant the part about my cast.”

now it’s your turn to look confused, partially because you couldn’t follow him but mostly because the warmth of his hand seeping through his sweatshirt was a welcome distraction

“i wasn’t cast because i was handsome”

“are you fishing for compliments now?”

“what? no!” he frowns at you “i looked like an egg back then, had a buzzcut and all that…”

he leans back in his seat comfortably as he holds the bottle out for you “but thanks for saying i’m hot anyways” a grin spread over his lips at your flustered expression.

“you really are” you tell him as you reach for the bottle, cregans fingers brushing yours. instead of pulling away he holds the bottle between you, nudging his fingers against yours and squeezing your arm where his hand still layed.

his eyes scanned over your face before he spoke again “you would make a nice juliet yourself” “are you calling me pretty?”

he scoffs “now you’re the one fishing for compliments” “i’m not! i just wanna hear you say it” you laugh, leaning a bit closer.

cregan leans in as well, and you’re sure he can smell the cheap wine on your breath

“you’re very pretty” he mutters as his gaze flickers to your lips, “especially with the wine staining your pretty lips”

you lick your lips out of reflex before you meet his gaze again.

“can i kiss you?” he asks at the same time as you, resulting in a snort from both of you

“i’m taking that as a yes” his lips met yours, his hand leaving your arm to cup your cheek delicately.

he pulled away almost as quickly as he pressed the kiss onto your lips, which left you confused

“that was only a peck… you gotta kiss me!”

before you could complain any further he came onto you again and this time, it felt like a real kiss.

his hand on your cheek guided you towards him and your lips met again, at first only moving carefully to try and find a comfortable rhythm until you slotted against each other perfectly.

he kept pulling away just to reconnect your lips quickly, only taking a second to breathe before filling your body with warmth again.

you don’t remember who incorporated tongue first, you just know that he had the most delicious taste to him.

the more heated the kiss got, the closer you tried to get to him. the bottle of wine was long forgotten on the floor of the compartment as you finally took a leap and broke the kiss for a moment to climb into his lap.

you barely manage to straddle his thighs in the narrow seat, so cregan quickly flips up the armrest to make some room for you.

considering how hesitant you were earlier to even play cards with him, you certainly changed your biases quickly as you scoot up in his lap until your chest grazes his.

he looks up at you through his lashes as his hands find their place on your jeans clad thighs “is this okay?” you ask him nervously as you push some of his hair back

“i can get off if i’m to heavy, i just thought-” he cuts you off by pulling you even closer, his chest now pressed to yours and his hands wandering up to grab your hips.

“you’ll stay right where you are, understood?” you can merely nod before cregan pushes another kiss to your lips, this time there's no hesitation to push his tongue into your mouth. the faint taste of cheap red wine making you dizzy.

your hand pushes into his hair once again, this time to grab it as your other finds its way to his waist, ghosting over the hem of his shirt before dipping your fingers underneath to feel his hot skin.

you can feel him shiver beneath you as you push yourself even closer, your nails skimming up and down his side. his hands started wandering as well, first lighty massaging your upper thigh before he resorted to plainly grope your ass.

it was a welcome surprise to feel his fingers indentations on your flesh even through the thick fabric of your jorts, his initial roughness soon turning into soft guidance of your hips against his pelvis.

as the kiss you share turns more and more desperate, whimpers and grunts being swallowed by the others mouth, your hands keep wandering all over his upper body. you couldn‘t decide whether you wanted to map out his entire body with your fingertips or just hold him impossibly close.

at some point, cregans left hand had slipped underneath your (his) sweater to hold you even closer by your lower back, your core being held in place while his right continued to guide your hips in a leisurely paced grind over his hardening length.

feeling the compartment heating up, sweat forming beneath his broad palm pressed to your skin, the desperation on his tongue being thrust into your mouth, you decide you need to take a breather before things get on to well to quickly.

reluctantly, you pull your head back and with that, leave cregan to desperately pant into the crook of your neck where he rests his head. you look up to the luggage rack above you, trying to focus on anything but the delicious burning sensation the drag of cregans hardened cock against your vulva has left in your lower belly.

your regained focus is ripped from you almost immediately as cregan slowly pulls down the zipper of the half zip to latch onto your pulsepoint.

a hand quickly shoots to his disheveled hair, grabbing the brown strands tightly. the whimper passing his lips is almost pathetic, his eyes closing tightly at the pull of his hair.

it took all your willpower to actually hold him back by the hair on his nape instead of just crashing your lips on his again, his mouth reddened and shimmering with the remainder of your combined saliva.

cregans eyes meet yours, glossy and pupils blown wide from excitement.

“i think…“ you whisper „i think i need a moment“ at this point your hips have stilled completely, yet cregan still held you tightly by your lower back and arse

“alright sweetheart…“ he pauses for a moment, trying not to focus on the throb coming from both his hair being pulled and your thighs tightly trapping his hips in place underneath them

„i didn‘t push it to far, did i?“

„no, you actually pushed it just right, probably a bit to well…“ you chortle as you loosen the grip on his roots, having calmed your breathing just enough to settle comfortably an cregans lap without feeling the need to restrain his burning touch.

a big smile stretches over his lips at your words and almost immediately, his hands start to wander again. you roll your eyes as he tries to shake your regained composure from you. with a smile on your own lips you lay your hands on top of his.

cregan hesitates for a moment, thinking you‘re asking him to pause his movements again. to his surprise, you do the opposite:

you slowly guide his hands to the slope where your thighs meet your hip, his fingers spreading over your hipbone and his thumbs resting comfortably on your lower stomach, perfectly framing your little pouch beneath your bleach washed jorts.

“i think we can take it a bit further now… only if you want to of course, i don‘t wanna pressure you to do it if you don‘t feel like it!“

you start to ramble again, nervous to ask for such intimacy from someone you met mere hours ago. cregans thumbs slowly start to caress where they can reach, inching closer to the zipper of your pants, wiping any doubt from your mind as your eyes meet once again.

“stop worrying so much“ he tells you, the sweetest tone to his voice „i want this just as much as you do, so please…“ his hands grip your hips tightly as he easily maneuvers you off his lap to sit on the seat next to his „do me a favor and take of your pants.“

he says it so matter-of-factly, you almost feel stupid for not starting to undress on your own accord. worry clouds your mind for a moment as you glance towards the glass door to your compartment, but as if he had read your mind cregan was already on it, closing the blinds and lowering the curtains of the small windows next to the ‚isle-seats‘ facing the hallway of the train.

you quickly loosen the button and pull down the zipper of your pants, wiggling out of the thick fabric and purposefully ignoring the damp stain on the inside of your pants‘ crotch-area as well as the wetness tracing between your thighs.

cregan also takes notice of your newly revealed skin, watching hungrily as you nervously press your knees together. technically, you want nothing more but to get the buff man in front of you between your legs.

practically, you can‘t help but think about how dirty the seats must be and how little contact you want your bare skin to have with the dusty upholstery.

“why don‘t you sit down?“

too embarrassed to admit your squeamishness concerning the hygiene of public textiles, you spew out the next best excuse that comes to mind

“i don‘t wanna leave a stain“

cregan snorts as he watches the deep blush creep up your neck and cheeks, hands clasped tightly in front of you

“don‘t worry about that“ he says as he pulls his shirt over his head to place it over the middle seat for you to sit down on.

as he stretches his arms upwards to free himself from the fabric you can feel the flame in your lower belly rekindle. you knew what to expect from the way his clothes hugged his bulging muscles, yet you didn‘t imagine him to be this beefy. his muscles laid bedded underneath soft fat, yet could still be made out clearly whenever he moved. a trail of coarse dark brown hair spread over his pectorals and down to his navel, the soft happy trail disappearing under the band of his boxers peeking from his shorts.

the sight of him made you salivate a little, trying not to think too intensely about what it might feel like to have his front rut against yours.

as if he was trying to stop your train of thoughts, cregan guided you backwards slowly until you sat down atop his discarded shirt. you could feel the remaining warmth of his body heat through the thin fabric of your slip, the gusset most certainly soaked through with your arousal and leaving a moist print on the fabric.

practically vibrating with excitement you followed his every move with your eyes as he slowly knelt in front of you, his hands reassuringly rubbing up and down your plush thighs to coax them to open up to him.

you did as instructed, slowly spreading your legs only to draw in a sharp breath as he slips between them, his waist nestling neatly between them to keep them spread.

“i want to try something… do you trust me?“ he asks, his breath ghosting over your face, drawing you in to lean closer

„yes“

lips are pressed against each other once again, desperately clinging to another as if kissing was their only purpose.

carefully, your hands start to explore his now naked upper body, enthusiastically roaming his back only to rake down through the thin layer of hair towards his navel, not missing the opportunity to grace over his nipples to cast gooseflesh over his body and draw a breathy moan from him.

the thought of cregan being so sensitive to your touch filled you with excitement, slowly starting to inch your waist closer to the edge of the seat to connect with his pelvis again, your core desperately clenching around nothing.

cregan didn‘t keep you waiting much longer, slowly trailing his lips from yours towards your neck, continuing to suck a dark mark into the same spot he tried to claim not to long ago.

this time, your hands found their way into his hair to try and bring him impossibly closer. the welcome throb of his hair being pulled send thrills down his spine, only spurring him on to let his lips wander and map out the skin of your neck, marking every sensitive spot with a loving bite as well as an apologetic lick over the forming bruise.

you don‘t know how much time passes until he detaches from your neck completely, your mind hazy with the way his touch seemingly has left permanent marks on your skin.

without a doubt, you could still feel his lips trailing your neck, his hands going from massaging your thighs to ghost over the hem of your knickers before finding your chest, his palms perfectly resting on the swell of your tits with an occasional flick of your nipples with his thumbs.

cregans previous touches were all but forgotten when he pressed one last peck to your lips before leaning down between your legs, now resting on his hunches.

he eyed the wet spot between your legs with a soft glimmer in his eyes, now on the same level as your soaking cunt as he was leaning down. his broad shoulders nudged your legs apart even further, his arms circling them from underneath to gain further control as well as softly caressing the outside of her thighs soothingly.

slowly getting the idea of what he wanted to try so desperately, your breath grows quicker.

his eyes found yours again as he started to trail stray kisses along the insides of your thighs, nipping at certain spots just as he did on your neck. you try to clench your legs to chase the friction you try to chase so desperately, but he restrains you from doing so.

his shoulders keep your legs propped open as he finally lowers his head to press his open mouth to your covered vulva. an excited gasp leaves your mouth as his tongue pushes forward to add to the wetness of the fabric stretched over your middle, tasting your arousal through the cotton.

„fuck“ is the only thing you manage to utter as he laps on you over the fabric once again, this time accompanied by a pleased hum.

„can i take them off? please…“ his desperate eyes seek your gaze again, pleading to finally expose yourself fully.

the thought was tempting, but the little voice of reason in the back of your head did not want to shut up. this was already a far more intimate situation than you ever thought yourself capable of, but you couldn‘t seem to fully let go.

you slowly shake your head, worry clouding your mind about how he might react to the rejection. „can i keep them on please?“ you don’t even know why you were asking, it was your decision after all. yet you still felt relieved when he nodded in agreement.

“totally fine by me. is it okay if i keep going?“ he asks with his cheek rested on your thigh, his hands stroking your calves soothingly.

“yeah, please keep going“ you basically repeat after him

it doesn‘t take cregan long to get back into his previous position, his hand coming up between your legs to assist his mouth by you pulling the gusset of your panties to the side before diving back in.

the first contact between his hot tongue and your glistening lips was electrifying. he started of with a broad lick right through the middle, parting your lips with it as well as gathering your sticky wetness on his tongue.

“you taste so fucking good“ he mumbles as he closes his eyes for a second, letting your flavor melt on his tongue before diving back in and tracing his tongue upwards again, slightly gracing your clit before closing his lips around it.

you hold onto the armrest for dear life as he starts suckling on your engorged bud, swiping his tongue over it in a harsh rhythm that soon becomes too much too quickly, forcing you to stretch out your hand, grabbing his hair once again.

“careful!“ you tell him „i‘m- haa… a little sensitive“

as you push his head back a little he mumbles an apology before placing a parting kiss on your clit. cregan lays his tongue flat against your hole, the new sensation making you gasp his name aloud.

picking up on the signals your body gives him, the shiver running up your spine as well as the gooseflesh covering your legs, he starts prodding his wet muscle into you slowly, careful not to overwhelm you.

pushing himself into you with slow, languid moves while the crooked bridge of his nose softly nudges your clit is what really sets you off. you can‘t help but grind your pelvis upwards slowly, matching the slow strokes of his tongue against your inner walls.

your breath shudders with every swipe and press, his hands found their place between your thighs once again as he uses his left to keep your slip out of the way and his right to carefully assist his tongue.

as the knuckle of his pointer finger breaches your hole you yelp loudly, as you were not used to the sensation. you faintly remember asking your ex to perform cunnilingus, only for him to laugh and explain how dirty women were down there (obviously complete bullshit).

cregan didn‘t seem to think you were dirty in any way. his movements got bolder and more intense, chasing after your pleasure just as intensely as you were doing yourself.

an occasional moan , often followed by some slurping sounds, passed his lips as he eagerly swallowed each wave of wetness gushing out of you.

his tongue was soon joined by a second finger, and as cregan kept pressing against your g-spot while slowly scissoring you open your legs came up to press against his ears, locking his head in a shaky hold as your moans grew louder by the second

“you have to keep quiet” he whispered, momentarily parting from your pussy

his fingers kept prodding against the rough spot inside of you while he looked up at you, watching as you nod slowly.

“i’ll try…”

cregan smiles and gives your mound an awarding peck before he dives in again. his tongue laps at your clit once again and you’re back in your throes of pleasure, pressing your thighs together again to keep him there.

he picks up on the hint immediately, matching the strokes of his tongue with the pumping of his fingers.

your eyes roll back as you bring your hand to your mouth, trying to keep yourself from moaning out loud again, reducing your pleas for him to finally have mercy on you to muffled whimpers

the air grew tense with your approaching climax, with cregans tongue drawing continuous whimpers from you.

he must’ve felt you growing more tense by the second and before you could protest again, he went from one broad lick over your clit to sucking it between his lips gently.

it was enough to finally push you over the edge, your orgasm hitting you hard as you felt the familiar warmth rushing down your spine, pulsating between your legs. you kept your legs closed tightly around his head, fingers trembling in his hair as you spurred him on to keep sucking, your pelvis grinding against his face roughly in order to ride out your orgasm as best as you could.

cregan complied gladly, keeping his lips closed around your bud as well as his fingers pressed to your g-spot. he was breathless, with his nose pressed tightly into your mound and his mouth still occupied.

he enjoyed himself, the noises of the occuring thunderstorm being muffled by your luscious thighs and your juices coating his palm, slowly trailing down his arm.

the constant pressure slowly became to much for you to handle and your hips stilled, your hand pushing cregans head back from where he was still latched to your core.

the moment your eyes met, you couldn’t help but smile at his flushed state.

cregans stubble was sticky with your arousal, his lips swollen and puckered as he breathed heavily.

“was it good?” he asked teasingly, his cheeks bright red from the heat.

“the best” you reply, still a little breathless. “you did so good baby” you tell him, his shoulders tensing at the praise while a soft hand brushes back his hair.

“keep calling me that…” cregan says as he slowly pulls his fingers from you, licking them clean as he raises to sit next to you once again.

you weren’t sure whether it was the slight buzz from the red wine, or the pleading look in his eyes that encouraged you to straddle his lap again, but you did so swiftly.

your lips crashed against his instantly, giving you a taste of your own arrousal as his tongue immediately found yours.

without a second thought you brushed over his prominent bulge with your knuckles, earning yourself a whimper from the brunette.

“can i touch you baby?” you whisper against his lips, your fingers teasingly slipping under the waistband of his shorts

“hmm… fuck, yes…” cregan answers breathless, your hands immediately fussing with his pants to pull them down enough to finally get your hands on him.

the desperation in his voice only spurred you on as he was pleading for you to touch him, whimpering loudly as you freed him from his confines and took him in your hand carefully. “please…” he croaked as your cool fingers sent electrifying shocks down his length, but you were too occupied with the sight between the two of you to decipher what he wanted, needed.

as expect from a guy his size, he was big. not neccesarily the longest, but definitely girthier than you were used to with a beautiful pink tint to the weeping tip.

dreamily, you brush a thump over his slit, smearing the precum he already leaked and earning another low moan from cregan.

you started to stroke him, the soft skin moving under your fingertips as you mindlessly wondered how beautiful his color would look on your lips, glossed up with makeup in the same way his tip glimmered with cum

“so pretty…” you whispered as he throbbed in your palm, urging you to speed up your movements while adding a little flick of the wrist to it.

as his moans grew louder you shut him up with a kiss, lips and tongues sloppily crashing together as cregan started to thrust into your fist, your hand barely able to close around his dick.

he was gripping your hips tightly, pulling you closer again until he could feel the bottom of his tip pressing against your mound, a beautiful hot sensation of thrusting up into your closed palm while grinding against your pubic bone, his moans resonating in your throat as he kept your lips on his by the back of the neck.

despite his efforts you pulled away slightly while keeping your ministrations on his dick up.

“do you wanna cum baby?” you ask softly, his eyes never leaving yours as you could feel him throb again, precum trailing down your fingers with how much he was leaking

“yes, please..!” he urged you on, his hands gripping your sides as he pressed another messy kiss to your lips “can i come in your mouth? please sweetheart, please put your mouth on me”

you couldn’t help but coo at his begs, adding some speed to the movement over his length.

his pleas were answered by actions, not words as you pressed a parting kiss to the corner of his mouth before you climbed off his lap, his hips straining from his efforts to hold back his thrusts into your fist.

your chest tightens as you look up at him, his cheeks are flushed red with his chest raising and falling rapidly.

you give him a few more strokes until he looks ready to cum, his skin tensing beneath your touch and his moans of your name growing louder with each stroke.

“look at me baby” you tell him, and his eyes find yours in an instant.

slowly sticking out your tongue, you press it to his throbbing tip accompanied by a delighted moan as the taste of him spreads over yout tastebuds.

his face contorts with pleasure as you carefully wrap your lips around his dick, gliding down until your lips meet your hand.

your mouth stretches over his girth and it takes a few attempts for you to comfortably start bobbing your head, the prominent vein running down his underside pulsating against the press of your tongue.

his hands find your head and reluctantly prepare to get your face pushed further into his lap. instead you find yourself delighted by the gentle caress of cregans fingers on your temple, his knuckles brushing some loose strands from your forehead before he runs his fingers through your hair.

as you look up at him through your lashes, sight slightly hazy with the remaining tears of your orgasm, you find him staring at you.

the intensity of his gaze as well as the comforting weight of his palm resting reassuringly in your hair elicits a low moan from you.

cregans eyes widen with surprise as you moan around his cock, the low vibrations in combination with your tongue gliding over his tip once again send familiar shocks through his lower abdomen, he feels his lower back tingling as he realizes his release is approaching rather rapidly.

„hold on-“ he tries to warn you, but with the way you hollow your cheeks and make an effort to swallow his dick completely, there is no way he can manage to form a coherent sentence.

you feel your pussy clenching with excitement at the sound of cregans pathetic moans, a new wave of arousal slowly dripping down between your thighs as you close your eyes again. concentrating on not gagging, you give it your best to take all of him in, imagining the way he would feel inside your cunt as his tip hits the back of your throat at the same time your nose burrows itself in his stomach.

his happy trail tickles your nose as you swallow him down completely with a delighted moan, cregans grip in your hair tightening slightly as he closes his eyes with a loud moan.

his orgasm crashes down on him and without a chance of holding back he softly grinds upwards into your mouth as his cum spurts down your throat. your hands hold onto his thighs tightly as you meet his shallow thrusts with the bop of your head, eyes closed with concentration as you try to drag this out for him as much as you can.

it doesn’t take long for him to slowly guide your face away from his dick, his chest rising and falling quickly with heavy breaths.

“guess you really wanted to return that favor, huh?“ he teases as your eyes meet once again, your chin glistening with the remains of your spit and the bit of cum you didn‘t manage to swallow.

„i did…“ you whisper quietly, voice hoarse from the strain on your throat „did you like that baby? did you like eating me out so much for you to cum this quickly?“ you tease as you slowly get up again, pushing yourself up by holding onto his thighs to stand in front of him.

the blush on his face darkens as you use that nickname again, seemingly having a rather intense effect on him

„thank you“ he whispers, his hands coming up to rest on the back of your thighs. you step closer to cregan, your knees pressing against the seat between his legs as you brush his hair out of his sweaty forehead.

you as you look down on him, your eyes scanning over his still-sticky face, his big eyes glistening with remaining tears of pleasure, his chest still darkened by a deep blush, the weight of reality starts to set in with you.

did you really just do that, get down on you knees in front of a stranger after he ate you out like a man starved?

but he wasn’t really a stranger to you, was he? after how much you talked, laughed and played around together?

cregan seemed to notice the panic settling into your stomach, his eyebrows drawing together with worry as your eyes dart around the compartment.

“what’s wrong sweetheart?” his hands reassuringly rub the sides of your legs, trying to calm you down as he tries to meet your gaze

“i’m just…” you bite your tongue as you think about it for a second “i think i’m just a bit overwhelmed is all… we just did this in public, and without protection-”

“i’m clean if thats what you’re worried about”

“it’s not, but thanks for letting me know”

cregan looks a bit helpless as you keep brushing your fingers through his hair to calm your nerves.

“i’m not the type to do something like this out of the blue, which probably sounds super cheesy but i’ve truly never done something like this, and i never thought i would do it with some stranger on the train”

nodding slowly as he tries to follow your train of thoughts, cregan leans to the side to kiss your wrist without breaking eye contact

“do you regret it? i didn’t want to pressure you, i swear! i just thought that we got along so well and then we made out-” you stop him by pressing a kiss to his hairline

“i never said i regretted it, it was great!” a smile stretches across your face “i’m just a bit surprised by this whole situation, thats all. i really enjoyed this…”

“i’m glad to hear it” he sighs as he leans back in his seat, tucking himself in and closing his pants before reaching his hand out

“now- why don’t you get dressed and come sit down again? i think we’ve still got some wine left, and you still need to finish that story about your theater play in highschool” you smile brightly at cregans words as you gather your pants and the one shoe that came loose throughout your snogging session and put them back on while he stuffs the soiled shirt from the seat into his backpack to exchange it with a clean one.

you’re glued to his side immediately as he sits back down, one leg thrown over his and your arms hugging his tightly.

cregan laughs at the sight of you, slowly caressing your leg while you rest your head on his shoulder, looking up at him through your lashes.

the evening goes by faster than you had anticipated, but with your laughter filling the compartment, neither of you realized how quickly time flew by.

you were in the middle of another make out break, cregan slotted between your legs as you tussle his hair some more, when the train suddenly recoiled. his head shot up immediately, trying to see anything out the window despite the darkness limiting his sight.

as the train suddenly jerked forward and started taking up tempo, you realized that the rain had stopped. the sky outside the window was as clear as ever and with a heavy sigh, your eyes met cregans.

“you’re getting off at the next stop?”

“yes…”

“oh… you should get ready then, it can’t be that long until we’re there” you mumble, trying to force a smile as you push yourself up and cregan out of your lap.

the realization hits you that this whole afternoon, the idea of you two being so intimate with each other and possibly forming more than a physical bond was over now.

cregan raises from his seat reluctantly, avoiding your gaze as his bubble was burst well.

“i think i’ll go to the bathroom, be back in a second…” he sort of tells himself before leaving you behind in the compartment.

it feels cold to be left behind like this, even though he hasn’t even gotten off the train yet. as cregan returns to you you start taking of his woolen hoodie, only to be stopped by his hands resting on your shoulders.

“keep it. please.”

he looks down on you sternly and before you can protest, an announcement over the speakers tells you that the next stop is coming up.

you tear up immediately and press yourself face first into cregans chest, hugging him tightly around the waist while his arms wrap around your shoulders.

“thank you for today” you say, muffled by his pectorals.

“no, thank you sweetheart. i had the best time with you today.” he whispers into your hair before pressing a kiss to your forehead, the train slowly coming to a halt.

“i guess i’ll see you around?” cregan asks hopefully.

“maybe… goodbye cregan.”

“goodbye…” as the train fully stops you sway lightly in his embrace.

you let him go without hesitation and step aside so he can take his backpack, with one last look over his shoulder he waves at you before squeezing out the department and towards the exit of the train.

you close your eyes for a second taking a deep breath while trying to calm yourself down.

this is so stupid you think to yourself as you gaze around the empty department, until a flash of color catches your eye:

cregan hat forgotten his UNO deck.

in a second, you scurry to find a pen and hastily scribble something on the cardboard box.

you can hear the doors opening and before you know it, you push open the window and lean out on the platform, scanning the crowd for the tall man.

“CREGAN!” you yell out as you spot him, cigarette and lighter in hand, his nose and eyes suspiciously red.

he scans the platform for a second before he strides towards you quickly, the doors already closing after the waiting passengers boarded the train.

before he can catch his breath or ask any questions, wasting the little time you had left, you pull him towards you by the neck and press a quick peck to his lips.

the two of you part with a smack as the train picks up speed and you toss over the little red pack of cards, which he catches against his chest.

you simply grin at him as his confused figure gets smaller and smaller in the distance, slowly backing away into the confines of the train, smilling as you let yourself fall into your seat.

cregan stands at the platform, looking after the train as it passes by and slowly disappears into the night.

confusion is clear on his face as he looks down on the little cardboard box in his hand, turning it in his palm.

“fucking hell…” he laughs out as he stuffs it into his backpack, finally lighting up his cigarette as he makes his way towards the exit of the platform, smiling ear to ear at the message you messily scribbled down.

call for a rematch :) xxx-xxxx-xxxx

will there be a rematch one day? who knows. but i hope you enjoyed this as much as i did while writing it.

love ya

#cregan x reader #modern cregan stark #cregan stark #hotd cregan #tom taylor #train #smut #strangers to lovers #house of the dragon #hotd au

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year ago

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the something blue

lilac, chapter sixteen

a/n: i gotta admit, I felt pretty proud of myself back when i came up with the title for this chapter. really clicking into that big brain of mine, giving it multiple meanings

summary: Casting one last glance over your shoulder at the celebrations still in full swing, you slowly made your way out front to where your car was parked among all of the guests’.

warnings: lumberjack!frank castle x reader, angst, lumberjack AU, past domestic violence, crazy ex trope, wedding, kidnapping, crying, violence, cliffhanger

word count: 917

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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As you pulled open the zipper on your backpack that was momentarily resting on the wobbly porch bench, a small smile tugged at your lips as your gaze washed over the dancing figures distantly in the garden. Softly lit by the twinkle lights strung from the trees, you caught sight of Donna, in the middle of the grassy dancefloor, swaying closely with a man about a head shorter than her, the strong embrace she had around him smooshed his face far into her bosom. Twirling around, she caught the eye of both Otto and your father who were off to the side, dancing as if they were in Studio 54.

Shifting the tupperware of cake under your arm, you fished out your phone from your bag’s front pocket and began to type out a message.

Y/n: Finally done! Hope you’re not asleep yet because I am on my way!

And just a few short moments later, your phone plinged with a reply.

Frank: Don’t worry, sweetheart. I am wide awake.

Smiling softly to yourself, you tucked your phone away, nearly shoving it into the folded-up cotton of the underwear you’d rid yourself of just minutes earlier when you had dipped inside to grab your stuff from your room.

Closing the front compartment, you slung the backpack over one shoulder and smoothed a hand down over the deep green velvet wrap dress that enveloped your curves, hugging you and cascading off like a waterfall.

Casting one last glance over your shoulder at the celebrations still in full swing, you slowly made your way out front to where your car was parked among all of the guests’.

With gravel crunching beneath your modest heels, you neared your vehicle, tugging your bag around to your front as your fingers fiddled after your keys. Halting just as you neared the door, you glanced down a moment before finally finding the keys at the very bottom of your bag.

But just as you fished the jangly bundle out and moved to unlock your car, heavy pairs of footsteps rustled in the gravel behind you.

Absentmindedly glancing over your shoulder, assuming that it was just a sleepy wedding guest ready to go home, you instead spotted two big, rough-looking individuals that you didn’t recollect from the day’s festivities. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, your words ended up muffled as they rushed and closed the gap between you, one of them clasping a palm over your lips, nicotine staining the harsh flesh and burning in your nostrils.

The cake and the keys tumbled to the ground with your backpack soon following suit as they grabbed you, lifted you off your feet and hauled you towards a close by dark van you hadn’t even blinked at before. You tried to get free, kicking and screaming in their grasp, but all your struggles granted you was the loss of both of your shoes.

As they threw you into the back of the vehicle, the tumble itself onto the cold metal floor left you breathless and aching, the alarmed words, “what are you–,” escaped your lips just before one of the men stepped in after you and the other slammed the door shut. Sitting down on the small bench on the side wall, his hands dipped into a duffle bag as you squeaked, “let me go!”

Not even casting a glance off in your direction, he just conjured a roll of duct tape as you soon felt the van begin to drive off.

Leaning in, the man captured your wrists and began to bind them up.

“This must be a mistake, I-I think you’ve got the wrong person,” tears rolled down your cheeks as he moved to restrain your ankles, “i-if you just stop and drop me off, I promise I won’t go to the authorities,” you trembled like a leaf on the grimy floor, “please, just let me go!”

“Shut up, bitch,” he shot back coldly.

Casting a glance over your shoulder at the small window that looked to the driver’s seat as well as the night’s swallowing darkness they speeded into, you tried to ask, “w-where are you taking me?”

“I said,” the man looming above you growled before he tore off another piece of tape and forced it over your lips, “shut up,” soon following it up with a dark cloth bag that he tugged over your head.

Disappearing into the void, you had no idea how long the bumpy car ride took. Could have been an hour, could have been a day. The time was impossible to decipher as all you could feel was the paralysing terror that ravaged every inch of your being.

But at some point, the van did roll to a stop and you heard the doors again be ripped open.

A shrill yelp muffled against the tape as you felt numerous rough hands grab a hold of you and haul you out. Your balance was non-existent as your bound feet met freezing concrete, the bruising grips being the only thing holding you upright.

It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the harsh fluorescent light after they ripped the dark hood off, a few strands of your hair following with them in the action.

You were in a parking garage of some sort, but that discovery wasn’t what made you nearly faint. It was the familiar, suit-clad man standing before you with his ring-adorned hands shoved casually into his pant pockets.

“Hello, doll.”

#lea’s writing #lilac series #lumberjack!frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #the punisher fic #frank castle fanfiction #the punisher x reader #frank castle fluff #frank castle series #lumberjack au #frank castle hurt/comfort #frank castle angst

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touyas-multi-purpose-saline · 2 months ago

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DAY XXI. — SELF-HARM

cw: SELF-HARM, Gore, Graphic Descriptions of Bodily Harm, Violence, Threats, SUICIDE Threats, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Abusive Relationship, Body Horror, Blood, Graphic Descriptions of Human Body, Unhealthy Relationships, Yandere, Slight Mention of Vomit, Controlling Overhaul, Uncomfortable Scenarios, General Dark Content Not Suitable for Immature Audiences. READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. 18+ ONLY!

author's note: This day is extremely graphic and disturbing. This is not meant to be a healthy depiction of a mental illness of a self-harming individual. Overhaul is clearly unstable romantically and using violence against himself as a way to control the Reader. Please be considerate and kind to individuals who self-harm and do not let this form a stereotype. There are parts of this fic that are based on personal lived experiences. They were triggering and horrific. I do not condone unhealthy behavior in any aspect! This is STRICTLY fiction! Do not force yourself to read if you're uncomfortable.

word count: Approximately 1.6k words.

Boyfriend: Where are you? (13:52)

Boyfriend: Answer your phone. (14:26)

You missed a call from Boyfriend.

Boyfriend: Now. (14:28)

Boyfriend: Where are you now? (14:49)

You missed 2 calls from Boyfriend.

Boyfriend: Where are you? (14:55)

Boyfriend: Who are you with? (14:56)

Boyfriend: Are you cheating on me? (14:56)

Boyfriend: Tell me. (14:56)

You missed 17 calls from Boyfriend.

Boyfriend: Attachments: 3 Images. (15:31)

Boyfriend: My blood pressure is getting dangerously high again. You’re the one doing this to me. If you were being a good girlfriend and answering me, I would be healthy. (15:32)

You missed 24 calls from Boyfriend.

Boyfriend: The thoughts are back. I’m getting sick. I’ll kill myself if you don’t answer. (15:59)

Boyfriend: Attachment: 1 Image. (16:00)

Boyfriend: I’ll cut my throat in front of you. Answer me, or else you’ll be the one who killed me. (16:00)

You missed 38 calls from Boyfriend.

—

A laugh echoes in the car whenever you fling yourself out, waving and howling with your friends. They bid you farewell, and all of you immediately do multiple really quick slaps of your thigh that end in waves goodbye. Your best friend snorts before honking the horn a couple of times, gripping the gear shift and putting it into reverse. You step back, watching them roll away from the tiny and cracked parking lot of your apartment complex. They accidentally hit a pothole, which makes all of you cackle whenever the car bounces, but you get a deadpan from your best friend before they kick it into drive and start to officially pull out. Watching them drive off, turning onto asphalt and speeding away, finally starts to cement the exhaustion seeping into your bones.

Your hair feels gross whenever you swipe it back, sticky with chlorine and sunkisses. A groan leaves your lips before you slowly pivot around, scratching the dome of your head and yawning. The trek back to your pad sucks, and ascending the stairs sucks even more. But soon the stairwell ends with a scuff of your flip flops, and you’re hobbling towards your door. The sling backpack crossed over your chest feels heavier with each step, so you readjust it and sigh. Your sopping wet towel and swimsuit are in there, and it feels like the water weight never fully left them. Another groan, and you almost wail to the heavens whenever you realize your keys are stuck in the front zipper of the bag. With a heaving breath, you lazily swing it around and fumble with the zipper.

You’re relieved to see your keys, wallet, sunglasses, and phone happily tucked in its confines. Great. Glad you didn’t misplace those—you're always doing that. You fish out the keys, but you don’t close the compartment again and don’t turn the bag around. Too much work, and you’re focused on dangling the keys and shoving your key into the lock and turning. It clicks, you smile with a million dollars, and you push the door open to cross the threshold.

Ahh, home sweet home. The smell of candles and incense wafts into your nose despite being doused, and you can’t help but steal a few more breaths while you close the door with the sole of your flip flop and walk in. You kick off your flip flops while you struggle with removing your bag, but you manage to snag it off, so you toss your keys onto the key rack and start digging around for your wallet and phone. Your fingers curl around both, so you retrieve them and let your bag sag again. The coffee table coughs whenever you plop the wallet down, but you pay it no mind before you touch the screen of your phone. Since you left to go swimming, you kind of just chucked it in the backpack and kept it there, so you probably missed some notifications. There’s a slight sense of dread that itches at the back of your mind, but you feel weird thinking that. It’ll be fine. It’ll be—

The screen lights up.

The backpack thunders to the floor, basketballs hitting brick walls, and you stare in abhor at your phone.

13 texts and 82 missed calls from—from, they’re from, from—

Kai.

That dread you’d felt really does start to sink into your pores, and the distinct feeling of needing to cry starts to crawl up your legs. Noo, no. This is the worst time yet. He’s never done this many calls or, you pause, he’s getting worse. Kai’s become so paranoid, so controlling—no, he’s thoughtful and caring, that's what he told you—of your life now. No. He’s just being considerate. He cares about you, but maybe it’s just a touch too overbearing. No, it’s not. You shouldn’t think things like that. Your hands are shaking. You can’t think. Oh, God, you can’t—

Kai left voicemail. He left. Voicemail. He.

Your whole body is clenching whenever you unlock the screen and weakly locate your phone app, the red 82 a terrifying face to stare at. You swallow, you can’t swallow, you swallow, and click and head for the voicemail. 44 voicemails. You click on the first one.

“You told me that you would always answer your phone if I called. Didn’t you say that you would always be there for me? Why are you ignoring me? You didn’t tell me you had plans today. Angel. Angel, I’m getting—Getting. Angel, I…”

That one ended. Your mouth is cotton. Another one.

“Yeah. You didn’t tell me you had plans. Do you see other men? Is there another man in your life? Am I just a piece of meat to you, angel? You’re more than that to me. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted and more. So why are you being so bad?”

There are more. You randomly click this time. While the voicemail plays, you drop your notification screen down and start reading the text messages. Horror and dust dances in your gaze.

“I feel like I’m about to get sick. I’ll find you. Did you think you could escape from me? Did you really think you could leave your husband, angel? I’ll make sure you can’t leave me anymore. I’ll slice your ligaments off. I’m so sick. I can’t feel my stomach. You’ve made me sick with your disease. Why are you doing this to me? I don’t want to hurt you. I. I think you don’t understand me. You’re—mine. Mine. We belong together—meant to be mine, my wife. I. I can’t let you escape anymore. I will—”

You end the voicemail before it’s done—41 seconds out of 2 minutes and 57 seconds. The images of Kai’s bloodwork is a monster that has you petrified, frozen to stone and chalk underneath its penetration, underneath the reality. The numbers are rocketing up. You did that—you’re stressing him out, making him worried. Did you forget to tell him you were going swimming with your friends? Everything is spinning, choreographers and calibration. You stumble forward, falling to your knees, head whiskers away from splitting on the edge of the coffee table. You click on another—the last one.

“I have a better idea, angel.”

Silence for 16 seconds before it ends. You feel like you can’t breathe, what was a comforting haze of burning wicks and scents becomes poisonous mustard that makes you hack and gag, cracking your ribs. Tears are already leaving your eyes, stinging your cheeks as you shakily open your texting app to finally respond to Kai.

You don’t get the chance to before—

Boyfriend: Attachments: 1 Image. (17:03)

Boyfriend: Come to me right now and I’ll put it back to normal. (17:03)

Vomit is in your throat, pouring lungs and heart out from the bars of your teeth, and you’re choking and sobbing. Frantic thrashes of your mind pump everywhere, mushrooming, and your eyes are peeled back into your head and your sight is glued to the screen. You start yelling, the sounds caught in your uvula, and you’re shuddering.

Kai’s arm is on the screen. What was left of it. Mangled, twisted, dog bites and bitter and waxy burns. Parts of his flesh are flayed back, lolling like a tongue in warm summer air, and you hiccup. Blood is drenching his arms, his pants, his jacket, the floor, flecks of blood on his sneakers. You can see every single tendon, all of them strings, pale and taut, and they’re stretched out in vicious smiles, glaring at you. His bones are cracked, splintering like broken tree limbs, shooting high into the sky, dusty, moldy. Warped fingers, zigzags and bent upside down, his fingernails tearing off of the fruit and juicy as they dangle helplessly at the cuticles. Veins are slapping everywhere, tentacles, confetti on a piñata, the fat white and soggy. His muscles pinch together, rippling into shapes, triangles, squares, intricate bows over the gaping wounds, wrapped around the limb.

And you’re gasping, clenching your stomach, bile in your nose, strings of pool water and snotty fireweeds over your top lip. Darkness, shadows, the house is sinking in on you, you’re mud in the ground, clay.

Your phone throbs.

You blink salt and saline.

Boyfriend: Come home. (17:05)

The phone clatters to the floor, shattering dreams, worms under your skin, twisting around and hopping to the door, to Kai, to your boyfriend, husband, to save him from being sick because of you, you’re claws and feral on the ground, Kai the only destination.

And you don’t look back.

#my scoville lit.#yandere bnha #yandere bnha x reader #yandere mha #yandere mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #overhaul x reader #yandere x reader #kai chisaki x reader #chisaki kai x reader #yandere overhaul x reader #yandere overhaul #yandere kai chisaki #yandere chisaki kai #yandere kai chisaki x reader #yandere chisaki kai x reader

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candycandy00 · 1 year ago

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The Trade Part 3 - A Dabi x Reader Zombie AU

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Smut. 18+. Zombie Apocalypse AU. Oral, stripping, voyeurism, handjobs. I know I said part three would be the final part but it got too long!

The following week was more eventful than your past several months in the woods combined. The most notable change was the number of zombies wandering into the woods. You ran into them occasionally before. It’s not like they were a particularly rare sighting. But now you were seeing multiple zombies each day. You avoided most of them, either climbing trees until they passed you by or simply going the long way around a certain area. A few times you had been forced to kill them.

You also ran into Touya more often, three times in one week. The first time you found him in his camp, the sound of jangling metal cans alarming you before you even saw him. A group of zombies were stumbling over the wires to get to him, the biggest group you’d seen since you’d stopped going near cities. There had to be at least twelve.

There were already five dead at Touya’s feet, and he was swinging his bat like a madman, screaming curses at the zombies as dark, dead blood flew through the air. You hurried over and killed a couple yourself, but he really hadn’t needed your help. Once he’d calmed down, he’d seemed happy to see you. Almost immediately, he’d offered a trade. You could rest in his camp and eat a hot meal with him in exchange for a handjob. It was a hell of a deal, so you accepted.

You sat beside him on a log as he watched the small fire, his pants open, his cock hard and standing straight up. You carefully stroked his length, using the precum leaking from his tip as lube. You started slow, then worked up speed as he moaned for you to go faster, harder. His head was tossed back, the scarred flesh of his neck exposed and somehow alluring.

The way he groaned and reflexively thrust his hips up against your hand excited you. And when he finally began twitching in your grip, you knew he was close. Just before the first shots of cum escaped, you suddenly leaned over and wrapped your lips around him, catching the warm fluid in your mouth.

You heard his surprised voice saying, “H-hey! You don’t have to do that…”

But his voice died away as you used your tongue to clean him up. When finished, you sat back up and wiped your mouth.

“I thought this would be better than avoiding stepping in it all night,” you said, trying to sound indifferent.

He stared at you for a moment, as if trying to figure something out, those beautiful blue eyes making you feel self conscious. “I’m not complaining,” he finally said, then stood up from the log.

The second time you ran into him, you were fleeing four zombies that had cut off your path in the woods. You had slammed your heavy backpack into the head of one of them, but apparently not with enough force to destroy its brain, as it had simply climbed back to its feet.

You were running toward a tree you’d passed earlier that looked easy enough for you to climb but still high enough that the zombies couldn’t reach you. As you fled, one of them had grabbed hold of your hair and pulled you back. You screamed and thrashed, losing your composure. You hadn’t been in this much danger since the early days of the outbreak.

Suddenly the zombie’s grip had loosened, and you turned to see Touya, smashing the brains of all four of them in quick succession. When they were all dead, you stood there, shaking.

Touya had only said, “Come with me,” and led you to his camp. He gave you food and water and didn’t ask for anything in return. He even let you sleep there that night without any sort of trade involved.

Now you were on your third encounter. You’d found his van in the woods, and walked around it until you spotted him, messing around with a small side compartment. When he looked up and saw you, his eyes went wide. He suddenly took hold of your arm and pulled you closer, then pushed your back against the side of the van. The backpack you’d slung over one shoulder fell to the ground.

You were surprised, because he’d never been this aggressive since that first time he found you looting his van. His body was so close to yours that you could feel his body heat, and he placed one hand on the van beside your head.

“I’ve been thinking about you,” he said, and there was a hunger in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before.

Your heart was beating so fast that you were sure he could hear it. But you kept your voice steady and said, “Oh? And what kind of thoughts were you having about me?”

He leaned his face closer to yours. “I was just thinking how I haven’t really touched you yet. Not the way I want to.”

You couldn’t stop a blush from spreading over your face. What had gotten into him? Had he been feeling lonely? Or was he just frustrated that there had been no trade last time? You gave him what you hoped was a flirty grin and said, “Are you proposing a trade?”

He nodded. “Let me touch you, wherever I want,” he said in a husky voice.

Your own voice sounded small and nervous by comparison as you asked, “What will you give me in return?”

His lips found your neck, just barely brushing over your skin, his metal piercings grazing over you in a way that sent shivers through your body. “Anything you want,” he answered, finally kissing your throat.

You swallowed, trying desperately to keep calm. “Okay,” you said in a quiet voice, and that’s all the confirmation he needed.

His hands moved over you greedily, sliding under your tank top and then under your sports bra, shoving them both above your breasts so that he could squeeze and grope the exposed flesh. Then his hands were unbuttoning your denim shorts. One hand slipped inside your panties, fingers eagerly parting your slicked folds to reach the hypersensitive nub within.

You moaned, your hips instinctively bucking off the side of the van and against his fingers as two of them pushed inside you while his thumb stroked your clit. His mouth was still on your neck, but it was moving down toward your chest, where it eventually closed around one hard nipple.

“T-Touya…”

He glanced up at you, but said nothing. His tongue ran over your breasts as his fingers pumped in and out of you. When your legs began to tremble, you put both your hands on his shoulders to keep from collapsing. His thumbnail lightly scraped over your clit, and you came on the spot, clenching around his fingers and moaning his name.

Your legs gave out, and he quickly caught you in his arms, holding you steady until your orgasm passed. Then he stood back to give you space as you panted to regain your breath. When it was over, you buttoned your shorts and pulled your bra and shirt back down as Touya went back to work on his van.

“So what do you want for the trade?” he asked, a little more sheepish than usual, as if he were embarrassed.

You sat down on a nearby rock and watched him tinker in the side compartment. “I want you to tell me more about you, where you’re heading, who you were before all this, that kind of stuff.”

He looked over at you with a surprised expression, clearly not expecting that. He sighed and closed the compartment, then walked over and sat on a log across from you. “How about I answer five questions for you?”

“Deal,” you said, your mind already forming the questions. “For starters, what was that all about just now?”

He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

“As soon as you saw me you were all over me,” you told him. “That’s not how you usually do things.”

He averted his eyes from yours, staring at the ground. “Two days ago I found some zombies eating someone at the base of a tree. There wasn’t much left of the person at that point. Just bones and gore mostly, and a few strands of hair… the same color as yours.”

In your mind, you could picture the scene, and you could see how he would have jumped to conclusions. “So you thought I was dead.”

He nodded. “You sleep in trees. I thought maybe you fell out in the middle of the night, maybe even broke your back and couldn’t move while zombies gathered around you.”

A grizzly fate, and probably true for whoever the poor soul was that Touya had seen. But thankfully, it hadn’t been you. You felt a familiar heat in your face when you realized what his words meant. Suddenly his desperation for you took on a different meaning.

“Got another question?”

“Yeah,” you answered, gathering your thoughts. “What did you do before the outbreak?”

“You mean like a job?” he asked. “Not really anything to be honest. I’d just got my license to do piercings at a tattoo parlor, but all this shit happened two days before I was supposed to start.”

Looking at him, at the various piercings dotting his face, his answer made sense. You tried to decide on your next question. You really wanted to ask how he got his scars, but you didn’t want to be insensitive. Above all, you didn’t want him to think the scars bothered you. If anything, the opposite was true. You found them intriguing.

So you went in a different direction. “Why didn’t you want to stay with your family during all this?”

Touya stared at you for a moment, his blue eyes seeming to darken slightly. “I don’t get along with my old man, and he’s in charge of the whole household, even in a situation like this. He’s used to bossing people around I guess. Being a politician and all.”

You’d never been very interested in politics, so you probably wouldn’t have recognized his father if he told you his name. But you had always heard stories about “dirty” politicians. You couldn’t resist asking, “Was he the good kind of politician or the corrupt kind?”

Touya held your gaze as he said, “The kind that beats his wife and kids.”

Your mouth fell open, but you had no idea what to say. You thought for a moment, but all you could come up with was, “I’m sorry. That’s terrible.”

Touya shifted on the log. “Yeah, I know. And before you ask, I did try to get my mom and siblings to come with me. I didn’t just run off and abandon them. But they felt safer with him I guess. He’s supposedly trying to be a better person lately. Not that I’m buying it.”

You decided to drop the matter of his father and ask about something else that interested you. “How many siblings do you have?”

His expression lightened a little. “Three. All younger. One sister and two brothers.”

“I’m surprised,” you said with a laugh. “You don’t give off big brother vibes at all.”

Touya laughed too. “Took years of practice, trust me,” he joked. “And oh yeah, that was your fifth question.”

You were surprised. “What? Really? I thought that was four!” You went back over the conversation in your mind, and realized that you hadn’t counted when you asked what kind of politician his father was. You sighed dejectedly. “Oh yeah, I guess it was five.”

Touya grinned. “That completes our trade then.”

You were about to speak again when a loud gunshot rang out in the distance and put you and Touya both on alert. You both sat there perfectly still, listening. It was a rifle shot. You’d heard it occasionally over the past week, always far enough away that it didn’t directly endanger you, but too close to ignore. You glanced at Touya to find him wearing a grim expression.

“Fucking idiots,” he muttered. “What kind of moron keeps firing off a gun? That’s why there’s so many zombies in the woods lately.”

“I think I know who’s doing it,” you told him.

He looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to go on.

“The night before we officially met, two guys approached me in the woods. They had rifles. They knocked me out, tied me up, and made it clear they planned to rape me. I managed to get away and hide from them. Haven’t seen them since.”

Touya’s face had shifted from curious to disgusted. “Fucking animals. If you see them again try to lead them to me. I’ll bash their fucking balls in with my bat.”

You smiled at the thought. “Thanks. But they had a lot of weapons, including those rifles. I think they’re the ones firing the gun. I think they’re luring zombies to the woods on purpose. Maybe to smoke me out.”

He grinned again. “I can deal with their rifles. Don’t worry about that.”

After talking with him a few minutes more, you stood up and walked over to the van to retrieve your backpack, then pulled it onto your shoulders.

Touya glared at you. “What are you doing?”

You shrugged. “Leaving?”

He frowned. “There’s more zombies out here than ever. You just told me you were almost raped by two guys with guns who might still be after you. Are you seriously gonna keep doing this alone?”

You were quiet for a moment, then said, “I didn’t hear any offers to let me stay.”

He sighed. “You need an invitation? Fuck it. Fine.” He stood up and looked you in the eyes. “Stay. At least until the gunshots stop and the zombies thin out. Stay with me.”

You thought you might melt into the ground at that moment, but instead you dropped your backpack onto the ground and went back to sit on the rock. “Okay,” you said, then flashed him a smile. “So what’s for dinner tonight?”

He laughed. “Get off your ass and help me make a fire first, freeloader.”

The two of you worked together to set up camp, not knowing at the time that your fragile sense of safety was about to be demolished in a few days.

********

Three days later, the two of you parked the van in the woods, set up the wires and cans over the doors, then walked to the river to wash up. You decided to take turns bathing while the other kept watch, since there were so many zombies around.

Touya went first, stripping off his clothes without a moment of hesitation and walking into the water with his soap. You tried to avert your eyes, but your gaze kept being drawn back to his toned, scarred form.

“You can look at me,” he called from the river, wearing nothing but a grin, “just keep one eye on the woods!”

“Yeah, yeah,” you called back, scanning the trees for movement. Touya’s bat was lying at your feet.

“You might as well,” he said, drawing your eye back to him as he was lathering up his hair. “I’m definitely gonna be looking at you when it’s your turn!”

You blushed and said, “Pervert!” But you were smiling.

When Touya was finished, he dried off and dressed, then stared at you until you sighed and began peeling off your clothes. He watched, of course, though he had the decency to remain quiet. You didn’t feel as embarrassed as before, maybe because he’d seen you naked twice before, or maybe because you were just becoming more comfortable with him.

You entered the water, which only came to about mid-thigh, and soaped yourself up. Even though Touya was keeping watch, old habits died hard, so you watched the woods as well. You had a strange feeling that you should hurry, so you quickly rinsed off and went back to the riverbank to dry off. Just as you were pulling on a clean pair of shorts, you heard it.

Jangling cans.

Touya heard it too. He picked up his bat as you pulled a T-shirt over your head, not bothering with a bra. He’d already shoved your dirty clothes in his own bag, so the two of you dashed into the trees, toward the van.

You didn’t make it far. Just a few yards into the woods, you both spotted them: zombies, spread out all among the trees. You didn’t have time to count, but there had to be at least fifty.

Touya backed up to stand right in front of you, the bat clenched in both hands. You pulled the knife from your thigh holster. The zombies had already noticed you and were closing in.

You leaned close to Touya and asked, “Should we go back and cross the river?”

He shook his head. “No, they’d follow us and we’d just end up trapped on the other side with no supplies. We should try to break through them and get to the van.”

You nodded, but you definitely didn’t feel great about that plan. Your strategy had always been about evading danger, not fighting it. You could handle a couple of zombies but the sheer number of corpses shambling toward you now with their outstretched arms and snapping teeth made you want to sprint in the opposite direction.

Touya took his eyes off the horde long enough to look at you over his shoulder. “Don’t worry,” he said, “I’ll protect you.”

Dark clouds were gathering in the sky, and as heavy raindrops began to pour down over the forest, Touya shifted the bat to one hand and took your hand in the other. Then, he ran into a narrow gap in the zombie herd, pulling you with him.

Tag List:

@crunchtits @jabberwocky-92 @myst1cfish @missrosegold @dreamybxnny @hotvillainapologist @faetheral @touyasmaid @dabislittleprincess @cutebutdelulu @snowprincesa1

#dabi x reader #dabi smut #touya x reader #dabi #touya todoroki #x reader #bnha x reader

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mtyout · 4 months ago

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99PERCENTHANDMADE

Welcome to our journey through the great outdoors, where adventure meets the artistry of craftsmanship! In this blog post, we'll explore the essential gear that enhances your outdoor experience, starting with the perfect hiking backpack. Discover how a well-designed hiking backpack can elevate your trail adventures, keeping your essentials organized and within reach. Next, we’ll delve into camping backpacks, tailored for those overnight excursions into the wild, where comfort and practicality are paramount.

Hiking Backpack

When planning your next outdoor adventure, having the right gear is essential, and a quality Hiking Backpack is at the top of the list. A well-designed hiking backpack not only carries your essentials but also ensures comfort during your journey. Whether you're a seasoned hiker or just starting, selecting a backpack that meets your needs can make all the difference.

A Hiking Backpack is particularly useful for long trails where you need sufficient storage for food, water, and other gear. Unlike standard bags, these backpacks are crafted to distribute weight evenly, reducing strain on your back and shoulders. Look for features like padded straps, adjustable waist belts, and various compartments to keep your items organized. Investing in a Camping Backpack that is 99 percent handmade ensures that you’re supporting craftsmanship and durability. Each piece often reflects the care and attention that goes into its construction.

When choosing your Hiking Backpack, consider how long your hikes will be and what items you'll need. Packs come in various sizes, and finding the right fit ensures your comfort and balance. Additionally, look for waterproofing features to protect your gear from unexpected weather changes. Remember, each adventure is unique, and personalized packs can cater to specific hiking scenarios.

Camping Backpack

When it comes to outdoor adventures, having the right gear is essential, and a Camping Backpack is at the forefront of this necessity. A quality camping backpack not only provides ample space to carry your essentials but also ensures comfort during those long hikes in nature.

Choosing a Camping Backpack involves understanding the specific needs of your journey. If you're planning a multi-day hiking trip, you'll want a pack that offers sufficient capacity while being lightweight. Look for backpacks that include features such as adjustable straps, ventilated backs, and multiple compartments to keep your gear organized.

It's worth exploring what makes a 99 Percent Handmade camping backpack truly unique. The handcrafted approach allows for personalized touches that mass-produced models often lack. From intricate stitching to unique fabric choices, these backpacks embody both functionality and artistry.

Ultimately, investing in a quality Camping Backpack is about enhancing your outdoor experience. The right backpack will make your trips more enjoyable, allowing you to focus on the beautiful landscapes and the tranquility of nature rather than being weighed down by an uncomfortable pack.

99 Percent Handmade

When it comes to outdoor adventures, having the right gear is essential. With a focus on quality and craftsmanship, 99 Percent Handmade offers a stunning range of products designed for hiking and camping enthusiasts. Each item is crafted with care and attention to detail, ensuring that your experience in nature is as enjoyable as possible.

For those who enjoy camping, the Camping Backpack from 99 Percent Handmade is a must-have. Its thoughtful design and spacious compartments make it easy to organize camping gear, food, and personal items. You can trust that everything is made with durability in mind, ensuring your backpack lasts through multiple trips under the stars.

What sets 99 Percent Handmade apart is their commitment to exceptional craftsmanship. Each hiking and camping backpack is made with a deep respect for outdoor enthusiasts, ensuring that you have a reliable companion for all your adventures. If you’re looking for gear that resonates with both style and functionality, check out https://www.99percenthandmade.com/.

In conclusion, embracing the outdoors is made easier with a Hiking Backpack or a Camping Backpack from 99 Percent Handmade. Experience the difference of incredible craftsmanship and explore nature with confidence!

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4veslil · 2 months ago

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Headcanons | Paul Lahote | You're Paul's SO and Neurodivergent

A/N: Hello! I thought this would be a great way to introduce myself to tumblr! I am currently writing a slow burn Paul Lahote Fic but to engage with the Twilight Fandom more I decided to do this! If you are interested in my VolturiOC/Paul Lahote Fic though here's the link! This is my first time doing Headcanons but please bare with me! Also if you have any requests I am willing to write for every Twilight character for preferences, imagines (<1.5k words), blurbs, drabbles etc. I will NOT write smut, not comfy with it and even if I did put an dni, children aren't stupid, we all faked our ages online once upon a time. All I ask is dni if you are underage! This blog 18+ only! Thank you for clicking on this and hopefully, I will hear some requests soon! Without further ado, ENJOY! ★ MASTER LIST HERE ★ P.S. Bullet points with a * is based off my own ND. Hope you don't mind!

This is new territory for Paul so he does what he does best- panics, gets irritated that he's panicking; get's angry when he can't calm down; goes for a run before finally, finding himself sitting at a library computer (in that order).

He sits at the library for hours researching before he's got a notebook of information on neurodivergence and enough questions for you to find it endearing.

He also takes out a few books written by people with ASD and ADHD and reads them front to back before skimming through them again to take notes.

When you get back home he's ready and puts you in the hot seat.

By the end he knows the normal stuff like favourite foods, animal and colours but also the textures you avoid, your quirks, your favourite fidget toys, what makes you overstimulated; everything that makes you tick.

You woke up the next morning to Paul ripping the tags off all your clothes, letting you know he's ordered new pillows for the living room to replace the velvet ones; he also got reusable cotton pads for the bathroom.

He keeps a hairband on his wrist for when your hair tickles your neck and causes your tick*

Paul also ordered some special ear plugs. He gets multiple- one for your backpack, one for his car's glove compartment and one pair to have on his person.

Paul also asked what your favourite fidget toys are and did the same as the earplugs.

Paul got you matching keyrings with the same fidget toy attached. His is black and yours is your favourite colour.

Paul knows a diary, schedule or to-do list doesn't work with you. He makes household tasks sound like a secret Pack mission, he makes chores fun.

Paul makes sure to put post-its about the house, sets your reminders on his own phone and reminds you gently. He knows you getting annoyed at the reminders isn't personal.

He double (more like triple) checks his notebook before he gets you something.

All his gifts have something to do with your special interest

Any clothes he gets you have tags removed and washed with your favourite detergent before he gift wraps them.

Paul is more than prepared for a break down, he doesn't try to touch you during those.

He knows not to feel rejected when you flinch away or say no to a hug. He just smiles and makes sure not to be too loud or make sudden movements around you.

Paul asked about masking and he could tell you were lying when you said you don't mask around him.

Paul takes you hiking to a secluded place in the forest and phases into a wolf if you've had a bad week. He lets you lay on him and read, just so you can unmask and relax. You find it easier to unmask when he isn't human.

You can go quiet and Paul learns to get comfortable in the silence, silence used to be the calm before the storm, now he sees it as the storm passing by at a distance.

Paul knows you hate touching carboard that's been in the fridge or freezer, after food shopping you find he's opened everything and repackaged it.*

Paul speaks straightforwardly, his communication is clear, especially when it's important or knows you're already overstimulated/overwhelmed.*

When you meet the Pack Paul hates how confused you look when some of the banter goes after your head- he tells you not to force yourself to laugh, says he finds it funny when you don't humour the boys.

The Pack started taking advantage of things going over your head, when Paul pointed it out you shrugged it off because it was only a bit of banter.

Paul pretended to leave it but roughed up the Pack (more than usual) when they were sparring, or would accidentally ram into them while running.

The Pack say he's whipped when they see memories of Paul letting you pet him in wolf form.

At Christmas Jared gets you a pink collar with studs for him, teasing you of course. While you're confused (and distracted) Paul yeets it at Jared's head.

When he gives a gift- of course it's something from your latest hyper fixation.

You get overwhelmed at the Pack's beach hang outs. You are not familiar with everyone's imprints and you get anxious.

You both sit a little away from the Pack and their imprints, silently laying together or drawing in the sand.

Paul always makes sure you're included in the conversation when someone approaches.

He holds you tight in his arms when you're feeling agitated because he knows you like to be squeezed, it grounds you.

Of course, when he found this out he ordered you a weighted blanket.

Paul wants to know everything, all your likes and dislikes- what's safe and what's not.

Paul smiles ear to ear when you tell him he's listed in the "safe" category, he notes it down with a smug expression.

But his face (half-)teasingly drops when you joke he's a close second to your all-time, favourite movie character.

He loves how your mind works, sometimes out of the blue you'll say something so off topic and he'll make you explain where you got that- he's fascinated by it and how easily one thing links to the other.

When the bad days happen he makes sure to just be there, knowing not to touch you- that you just want him by your side.

On those days he makes all your safe foods and separates them on the plate based on your specific eating criteria. He doesn't entirely understand but doesn't tease you for it either.*

He shares your safe food list with Emily because he knows you get embarrassed about eating in public- you used to get teased about how plain and boring it was.*

He goes back to the public library to look up the quiet shopping hours at your favourite stores and what restaurants have your safe foods.

Paul wants to understand everything about you and where it comes from, he fills up one notebook after the after and doesn't let you peek inside.

You try to reason they're all about you so you should get to read them, he still refuses.

The day you finally manage to get a hold of his notebook, you close it after reading the first page. On it is written: "Notebook #3 - everything I know about future Mrs Lahote"

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anwiel13 · 11 months ago

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The Rammstein festival backpack in the "Reise Reise" design with multiple functions:

two large side pockets

large patch front pocket with included poncho

bottom with straps for attaching sleeping mats or sleeping bags

detachable hip belt with pocket – can also be used as a single fanny pack

lid compartment with additional document pocket outside and inside

foldable comfortable seat mat (approx. 39 x 30 cm)

key ring with carabiner

practical rain cover for the backpack

large laundry net with cord stopper

padded back section with laptop compartment in the back

dimensions: approx. 60 x 30 x 20 cm; approx. 40 l volume

material: 100% polyester

#Rammstein #Rammstein merch

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investmentassistant · 5 months ago

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How to travel without luggage: a guide to minimalist adventure

Traveling without luggage might sound daunting at first, but it offers a liberating experience that can enhance your adventures. Imagine breezing through airports without waiting at baggage claim or seamlessly hopping on and off public transport without struggling with bulky bags. Traveling light is not only more convenient but can also save you money and reduce travel stress. Here’s a guide to mastering the art of traveling without luggage.

Embrace the minimalist mindset

The first step to traveling without luggage is adopting a minimalist mindset. This means being intentional about what you bring and focusing on necessities. Start by asking yourself what you truly need for this trip. Consider the weather, activities, and duration of your stay. For a weekend city break, you might only need a few clothing items, toiletries, a smartphone, and a wallet. Many travelers find that they can fit everything into a small backpack, making the journey hassle-free and mobile.

Choose the right bag

When traveling without traditional luggage, selecting the right bag is crucial. Opt for a versatile, durable backpack or a crossbody bag with multiple compartments. Ensure the bag is comfortable for extended periods and has secure closures. A small, 20-liter backpack can be ideal for short trips, offering enough space for essentials while being compact enough to carry comfortably throughout your journey.

Pack multi-functional clothing

The key to packing light is choosing versatile clothing that can be mixed and matched to create multiple outfits. Opt for lightweight, wrinkle-resistant fabrics that dry quickly and can be worn in different settings. Choose a reversible jacket or a pair of pants that convert into shorts, allowing you to adapt to various climates and situations with minimal clothing. Consider items that serve dual purposes, such as a scarf that can also be used as a blanket or a sarong that doubles as a beach towel.

Use packing aids

Packing aids like compression bags and packing cubes can help you organize your belongings efficiently and maximize space. These tools allow you to fit more into a smaller bag while keeping items accessible and neat. Using a compression bag for clothing and a small packing cube for toiletries can significantly reduce the volume of your packed items, making it easier to manage on the go.

Simplify your toiletries

When it comes to toiletries, less is more. Opt for travel-sized products or multi-use items to save space and weight. Consider solid toiletries like bar soap, shampoo bars, and toothpaste tablets, which are not only compact but also help you bypass liquid restrictions at airports. A single solid soap bar can replace body wash, shampoo, and even laundry detergent in a pinch. This minimizes the need for multiple bottles and simplifies your packing list.

Leverage technology

Take advantage of technology to reduce physical baggage. Instead of carrying books or maps, use e-readers and digital maps on your smartphone or tablet. Store important documents, itineraries, and tickets in digital form to keep your paperwork minimal. Download travel apps that offer offline access to maps, translation services, and local recommendations, ensuring you have everything you need at your fingertips without the bulk.

Plan for laundry

If you’re traveling for more than a few days, plan to do laundry during your trip. Many accommodations offer laundry services, or you can pack a small, portable clothesline and some detergent to wash clothes in your hotel room. A quick hand wash and air-drying can keep your limited wardrobe fresh and clean, allowing you to travel light without sacrificing cleanliness or comfort.

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womenbagusa · 1 month ago

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Women’s Leather Handbags for Every Occasion

Women’s leather handbags are more than just accessories—they’re an extension of personality, style, and practicality. Whether it's a sleek clutch for a gala night or a spacious tote for work, the right women bag can elevate your outfit and make every occasion special. The world of women’s handbags is as vast as it is exciting, filled with best-selling purses that cater to every need and taste. From the trending red heart purse making waves in fashion circles to timeless classics, this article is your guide to finding the perfect leather handbag for any occasion. Let's dive into the essentials and uncover the ultimate picks to complement your life.

1. The Versatility of Women’s Leather Handbags

Leather handbags are renowned for their versatility. A good leather women bag transitions seamlessly between roles—be it professional, casual, or glamorous. This section explores the adaptability of leather bags and how they meet different lifestyle needs.

Imagine stepping out for a coffee date with a chic crossbody bag that comfortably fits your essentials. Later in the day, you switch to a sophisticated tote for a work meeting, carrying your laptop and notes. These best selling purses exemplify versatility, making leather a favorite material for everyday use.

Among the trending options, the red heart purse stands out as a bold statement piece. Its playful yet elegant design suits a variety of settings, from casual brunches to evening outings. With proper care, leather handbags retain their charm and last for years, adding unmatched value to your wardrobe.

2. Choosing the Right Leather Handbag for Work

A professional setting demands sophistication and functionality. Leather handbags designed for work should strike a balance between practicality and elegance.

Totes and structured satchels are often the top choices for professional women. A high-quality leather tote with multiple compartments keeps essentials organized, from your laptop and planner to personal items. Best-selling purses in this category often feature neutral tones like black, beige, or navy, ensuring they pair effortlessly with formal attire.

If you're looking to make a bold yet appropriate statement, consider accessorizing your work wardrobe with a red heart purse. Pair it with muted clothing for a professional yet fashionable vibe. This section provides tips on identifying durable, stain-resistant leather finishes to ensure your bag withstands daily use.

3. Evening Elegance: Handbags for Glamorous Nights

Evening events call for handbags that exude luxury and charm. Clutches, wristlets, and mini crossbody bags made of premium leather are ideal companions for formal gatherings or romantic dinners.

Best-selling purses in this category include metallic-toned leather bags with intricate embellishments or sleek designs. The red heart purse can transform into a whimsical accessory for evening occasions, especially when paired with monochromatic outfits.

This section will guide readers on choosing the right size and design for evening bags, ensuring they carry only the essentials—like lipstick, a phone, and keys—while making a bold style statement.

4. Casual Chic: Everyday Leather Handbags

For everyday use, women’s leather handbags must combine comfort, style, and practicality. Crossbody bags, hobo bags, and backpacks are popular options for casual outings.

This section explores how to select handbags that complement relaxed, laid-back outfits without compromising on functionality. The red heart purse fits into this category as well, adding a pop of personality to your casual ensemble. Highlighting brands known for crafting the best-selling purses in this category ensures readers have plenty of stylish options to consider.

5. Seasonal Favorites: Leather Handbags for Different Weather

Leather handbags are versatile, but seasonal considerations play a role in their selection. This section focuses on choosing handbags that align with changing weather and trends.

From earthy-toned slings for autumn to bright, playful options like the red heart purse for spring, this guide helps readers stay on-trend while ensuring their bags can withstand seasonal elements like rain or heat.

6. Caring for Your Leather Handbag

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wastelandmoony · 2 years ago

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Déjà Vécu: Chapter Four

Chapter Four: Mop Head & Co.

Characters: Remus Lupin/Reader, Sirius Black/Reader (no use of y/n), James Potter, Petter Pettigrew

Summary: Transferring to a new school is tough, it's even more difficult when you find out you're a witch.

Warnings: Minors DNI, 18+ only!, angst, anxiety/overwhelming feelings, language

Read on AO3

Companion Playlist

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September 1st, 1971

“My brave little witch,” she cooed, straightening the strap of her daughter’s leather bag, “be sure to write us as often as you can—“

“—we want to hear about all of your classes, and please tell Professor McDonegal we send our best,” her father added.

“McGonagall, dad. And I’ll write every week, Mum, I promise,” she leapt into her mothers arms, getting in one last hug before she boarded the Hogwarts Express. She could feel the tension in her mother’s shoulders as she inhaled the comforting floral scent of her hair. This world was new for all of them, she just happened to be the only one that got to stay in it. Boarding school had never even been considered by her parents; she had perfect marks in every class, she’d never had any behavioral issues, sending her away wasn’t in the cards.

———

The letter arrived in late July, coming as a shock to her parents, but for her it was vindication. Though raised by Muggles, she had always known she was different. At age 7, she had unintentionally levitated the backpack of a bully at school, terrifying him to the point of tears. No one had seen except for a handful of other children, the cries of “magic” and “witch” were brushed off as youthful exaggeration when called to the teachers attention. The strange outbursts would happen when she became too emotional, whether it be good or bad. It would start in her fingertips, feeling like an electric current that could not be contained, sending sparks pulsating through her hands.

When an older woman in a tall pointy hat arrived at their small flat in Surbiton, she was afraid that everything this strange lady was saying was just a practical joke. There isn’t such things as wizards, and magic, and wands…right? The turning point was when the woman transformed into a small tabby cat in front of their eyes. She thought her parents would keel over right then and there, but instead they sat on the floral couch, clutching their hands, mouths agape. The questions flowed freely shortly afterwards: How safe is this school? How expensive is it? She’ll be there for how long?

She hadn’t uttered a word since the older witch arrived, just watched in silent awe as she confirmed all of her childhood suspicions. Professor Minerva McGonagall, as they had come to learn, was the Transfiguration instructor at Hogwarts, the school she would soon be attending (if her parents approved, that is). She’d never even been to Scotland before, and now she was to be shipped away to the highlands to learn potions and charms? There was a war raging in her body as excitement and nerves battled for dominance—and excitement was winning.

As her parents ushered the professor to the door to depart, they were still asking a multitude of questions trying to wrap their non-magical heads around the bombshell that was just dropped into their lives.

“Excuse me, ma’am?” She interrupted softly from behind her mother, gazing up at the the witch’s stern but kind eyes, “are you…is this real?”

Professor McGonagall crouched down and took her hand, “Yes my dear, this is all very real. Hogwarts is very excited to welcome you in September; I believe you’ll do great things.”

And with one small reassuring smile, she vanished from their doorstep.

———

Pushing her way through the cramped train corridor, she peered into each passing compartment in the hopes of finding an empty one. After multiple failed attempts, she finally found a deserted room towards the back. Dumping her bag onto the seat, she ran towards the window. It was cold to the touch as she pressed her forehead against it, waving to her parents on the smokey platform. Her mom was crying as they turned around to leave, dad throwing a reassuring arm around her quivering shoulders.

The train whistle blew, and she fell back into the cushioned bench seat. She had looked forward to this, but the reality of everything was now crashing down.

She was alone.

Maybe she didn’t belong here, maybe all of this was some kind of mistake. She was beginning to hyperventilate, and desperately searched for some sort of distraction. As she dug through her bag to find a book, the compartment door slid open, causing her to jump.

“Oh! I’m sorry, I thought this one was empty,” the sandy haired boy mumbled.

His fair skin was flushed slightly pink, and her eyes drifted towards a scar peaking out from the collar of his sweater. He turned to leave, and she held out a hand to stop him.

“No, it’s okay, you can sit here. I don’t mind,” she offered him a shy smile that he returned in kind as he sat across the compartment.

She turned her attention to her book. Making friends was never her forte, most of the other kids she had grown up with thought she was weird (i.e. the levitating book bag incident), so she found solidarity in-between the well-loved pages of her favorite books.

“’Tis moonlight, summer moonlight, all soft and still and fair; The solemn hour of midnight breathes sweet thoughts everywhere.”

She looked up to find the strange boy staring back at her, the smallest hint of mischief behind his eyes.

“I’m sorry?”

“Bronte,” he pointed at the book in her hands, smirking as she put the pieces together.

The book fell shut in her lap as she gazed back inquisitively.

“You like poetry?” She asked, she’d never met someone else her age that read poetry, let alone could recite it.

He shrugged, the too-long sleeves of his sweater falling over his hands in his lap, “I read anything I get my hands on, honestly, but poetry is easier to digest sometimes. I enjoy the duality of it; it can devastate in a single line, or romanticize the mundane.”

His honesty made her smile.

“I’m Remus Lupin, by the way. Are you a first year too?”

She nodded and offered her name, “I’m a little nervous, I just found out about all of this two months ago.”

“Oh, you’re a muggleborn?”

She nodded again, slowly. After learning about the magical world in July, she did all of the research she could about this other reality hiding in plain sight, though there wasn’t much she could actually find, save for the books she bought in Diagon Alley (her parents didn’t stop talking about the trip for days after). She read about the stigma placed upon blood status, muggle-borns in particular. The list of pure-blood families, or Sacred Twenty-Eight as they were supposedly referred, was etched into her mind. The thought of judging another person based on their blood status was completely asinine, and she had spent the rest of the summer preparing herself for ridicule. She refused to be ashamed. She was a muggleborn, she was special.

Expecting Remus to say something awful, or recoil from her presence completely, she braced herself for rejection.

Instead, he leaned forward slightly, smiling kindly, “My mums a muggle too. Dad’s a wizard, so I got to grow up with both worlds which was kind of nice.”

She exhaled, her chest warming with a fondness for this new boy. Is this what friendship felt like?

As she pondered the notion, the compartment door slid open once again, this time a little too forcefully, startling them both.

“Oi! Pete! There’s free seats here!” A tall spectacled boy called down the corridor. His black hair was a mess, sticking up in random directions haphazardly. He turned to the compartments two occupants and smiled, “Mind if we sit? Everywhere else is full.”

Remus moved his book bag onto the floor, motioning for the other boy to join. She didn’t particularly want more people around at the moment, but was ultimately too afraid to ruin whatever had just begun with Remus.

The black haired boy flopped down, just as two others appeared at the doorway. Another dark haired boy leaned against the doorframe, paler and not as tall, uniform shirt untucked and sleeves rolled up to this elbows in what she could only assume was an attempt at looking cool. His hair was on the longer side, falling over his eyes occasionally. A smaller, blonde kid lingered behind him, peering over his shoulder with small watery eyes.

“Thank Merlin, I thought I was going to have to sit with my cousins up front,” the long haired boy exhaled as he dramatically collapsed onto the bench next to his friend.

The smaller one sat next to her softly, clutching his book bag in his hands. He seemed very nervous, and it made her feel a little better at her own current state.

“We wouldn’t have let you sit with those dirty snakes, right Pete?” The messy haired boy tapped the blonde across from him with his foot. He was well put together besides the mop on his head, with a shiny leather bag with the initials J.P. engraved in gold near the handle.

“Snakes?” She asked, staring at him in confusion.

“Slytherins, “ the paler boy groaned, “My whole family has been Slytherin going back like 500 years or something, so I’ll probably get sorted there too.”

“Bollocks, Sirius. You’ll be a Gryffindor, like me and Pete,” Mop Head adjusted his glasses, shooting his friend a hopeful smile.

She looked across at Remus, who immediately understood her questioning gaze.

“They’re Hogwarts Houses. There’s four of them, and every first year gets sorted into one,” he explained quietly, without an ounce of pity or patronage in his tone.

Mop Head shot a glance over at her, “You don’t know about the houses?”

She shook her head, suddenly feeling ashamed, even though she had promised herself not to feed into predisposed ideas about blood status. In her research about the magical world, she had completely neglected researching Hogwarts, too absorbed in other aspects such as magical creatures and wandlore. The houses didn’t concern her too much; who cares what team she rooted for, they’d all be taking the same classes at the end of the day.

“No I’m—I was raised in the muggle world.”

Sirius visibly tensed in the corner, and Mop Head glared at the reaction.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, pale face flushing and falling to the floor in shame, “habit…”

Turning his attention to her, the boy with glasses smiled, “That’s cool! I’ve never met a muggle before, what was it like?”

“Uh, it was…okay? I guess? I always knew I was different, so it was very validating to be proven right,” she let out a small chuckle, “Remus’s mum is a muggle too.”

The boy across from her nodded proudly.

Sirius looked up, “Did you ever ride in one of those…big, metal boxes with wheels?”

She furrowed her brow, and he stared back at her eagerly, blue eyes piercing through her.

Remus spoke up from across the compartment, “Are you talking about a car?”

She burst out laughing, Remus following swiftly. Next to her, Pete started to giggle as well, glancing around at everyones faces in reassurance.

Sirius looked over at Mop Head, confused and slightly embarrassed.

“Yes, I’ve been in a car loads of times,” she said in between laughs, “it’s the primary mode of transportation where I’m from.”

His light eyes softened when she spoke to him, the corner of his mouth turning upwards ever so slightly.

Remus chimed in, “Have you ever heard Muggle music?” he spoke directly to Sirius, “It’ll blow your mind, mate.”

“Oh! Sorry, we never properly introduced ourselves, did we,” the boy next to Remus said suddenly, “I’m James Potter, that’s Sirius Black,” he pointed to the boy in the corner who saluted in turn, “and this here’s—“

“—Pete,” She interrupted, looking over at the shy boy next to her. He looked up and smiled gratefully. James gave her a questioning look.

“You said it earlier,” she giggled, watching as he recovered the memory.

“Peter Pettigrew, it’s nice to meet you,” the small boy next to her extended his hand. She shook it, smiling back at the grinning face of her seatmate.

Their surnames weren’t lost on her. She recognized three out of the four, they were part the Sacred Twenty-Eight, yet the only one that seemed to have a reaction to her blood status was Sirius. She made a mental note to look up the Black family later.

The next few hours were filled with more laughter and handfuls of new magical candy, something that the other boys took great pleasure in introducing her to. James gifted her his chocolate frog card, explaining the premise and insisting that she could now start her own collection. Not one to be outdone, Sirius handed his over as well, explaining in great detail the wizard depicted on the front. Her and Peter took turns tossing Bertie Botts Beans into each others mouths, gagging audibly when she unfortunately received a sweaty sock flavored one. Out of all of the candy they bought from the trolley, Peppermint Toads were by far her favorite. Remus was hoarding most of the chocolate, stashing some in his bag for later. When she ran out of Peppermint Toads, he reluctantly shared his, smiling slightly when he saw how happy they made her. They learned more about each other, like how James and Peter are neighbors back home and grew up together, and how they had just met Sirius that morning on the platform, though you’d never know it by how close him and James seemed already. When James asked Remus about the scar on his neck, the cabin got quiet as the color drained from Remus’s face. After a few moments, James backtracked, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, it’s okay.”

Remus cleared his throat, “No, it’s just…it’s a long story. I’d rather not rehash it right now.”

James changed the subject quickly, going off about the Hogwarts Quidditch teams (and promptly explaining everything to her without being asked).

Once the train arrived at Hogsmeade Station, the five of them filed out of the compartment and onto the crowded platform. A scruffy looking man in a long brown coat called for the first year students to follow, leading them down a pathway to a fleet of small rowboats bobbing on a lake as dark as ink. Her hands began to shake as she watched some of the students climb in and embark on the next leg of their journey. The fear was slightly irrational, something she was keenly aware of, but dark water would always terrify her to the core. Who knows what kinds of creatures could be lurking underneath? More alarming was the fact that the boats seemed to be maneuvering by themselves, without the use of any oar or motor. Beside her, Remus could feel the trembling of her limbs, and he reached out to intertwine their fingers.

“It’ll be alright,” he whispered, “we’ll all go together.”

It didn’t cease her shaking, but the words gave her a slight boost of courage. He made her feel safe in a way that only her parents ever had.

James and Sirius clambered into a boat the first chance they got, eager for adventure. Peter climbed in after, more cautious but trying to hide it from his new friends. Remus was next, even as he stepped over the ledge of the wooden boat, he never let go of her hand.

He waited at the back, motioning her forward, “I’ve got you, just step over and don’t take your eyes off me.”

She complied, gripping both of his hands as she climbed over, immediately sitting closest to the back. The boat lurched forward and began the journey across the Black Lake, James and Sirius leaned over the front, splashing each other while Peter watched on and laughed.

“Do you think we’ll see the giant squid?!” Sirius yelled excitedly, sitting up straight and peering over the dark waterscape.

Her eyes went wide, “The what?!”

Remus’s foot made contact with Sirius’s ankle, shooting him a look that shut the long haired boy up instantly. She mapped the scars on the back of Remus’s hand, something to keep her mind off the fact that they were currently sailing across a black abyss that apparently contained a massive man-eating (she assumed) cephalopod. How did someone so young have so many scars? As she ran a thumb across a mark on his knuckle, she realized he had never even asked her what she was so afraid of; the semantics didn’t matter to him, he just knew she was terrified and jumped in to help without question. Something must have happened to him, something big, that forced him to see true fear up close. She looked up at his profile in the dim light, wondering how someone so sweet could have been made to suffer so greatly.

The small boat turned slightly, curving around an embankment, and Remus squeezed her hand, “Look!”

There it was.

Hogwarts.

If one hand wasn’t holding onto Remus, and the other gripping the wooden seat, she would’ve pinched herself. It was better than she had imagined. The towering castle glittered in the night, each glowing window sparkling against the lake like stars. The entire boat had gone silent, each of them staring up at the stone turrets in awe.

When the boat finally came to rest at the docks underneath the castle, she almost collapsed; she’d never been so happy to be on solid ground. The scruffy looking wizard from the train platform led the entire group of first years into the castle, up through a winding stairway that seemed to go on forever. As they continued on, she made sure to take in every bit of the surroundings, wishing nothing more than to spend the rest of her days memorizing every crack and stone of this place.

Through her daydream, she failed to notice that Remus was no longer beside her, only realizing it when Sirius bumped into her shoulder as they all came to a halt in front of a set of large doors. A familiar older witch emerged from a corridor and stood in front to address the group.

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall bellowed, “you will now be entering the Great Hall, where you will be sorted into your houses. Following the ceremony, the Start of Term Feast will begin.”

She felt Sirius tense beside her, glancing over to see that he was staring at the floor, his dark hair falling over his face.

“You okay?” She nudged him with an elbow.

He shook his head, “Not particularly…”

“Why? What’s the matter?” She was having a hard time understanding how anybody could possibly be upset at a time like this. They were at Hogwarts for goodness sake!

“I don’t want to be placed in Slytherin…I don’t want to be like…like them…” Sirius mumbled.

“Would it really be that bad?” She shrugged, and he returned a confused expression.

“You’re a muggleborn, you don’t understand what it’s like—“

“—try me, then,” but before Sirius could answer, the large doors swung open, taking both of their breath away.

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