#and plan for earplugs in a month or two

[jensownzoo]

The sounds of calling tree frogs are just so soothing to me. Almost makes up for the sticky humidity.

[flemingology]

Biggest Little Fan | Jessie Fleming x Reader

In which: you take your daughter to her mum's football game for the first time

Warnings: none

WC: 1.6k

A/N: based on this request. Realized I am not good at writing the kid dynamic. I don't know if I'll do it again but I still hope you enjoy!

Divider: @cafekitsune

Amelia, you and Jessie's 5-year old daughter, had started picking up an interest for football the last couple months. It was almost inevitably really, seen the household in which she grew up. You and your wife had kept your daughter away from football in her first couple years, wanting to avoid that she became a thing in the media – like you had seen happen before to other players and their children.

Nonetheless, she had been nothing but nagging the both of you to go see one of Jessie's games. "I want to see mama kick the ball," she would claim excitedly. As much as you were fond of the idea, it took a little convincing to get Jessie on board. Although she loved the idea of her wife and her daughter coming to watch her games, both adorning shirts with number 17 and Fleming on the back, it was more the whole footballing environment that worried her. The noise, the people, it could get really busy and loud in a stadium and she knew her daughter was prone to be overwhelmed.

A couple weeks after it was initially mentioned, though, you'd finally been able to convince her. You had pushed her out the door the morning of matchday with the promise of bringing earplugs for Amelia, the koala teddy she brought everywhere with her that Jessie got her after she came back from Australia from the World Cup and a couple toys just in case she would get bored in the family box.

Your wife and you had struggled quite a bit with getting pregnant before it eventually worked out. After 3 failed IVF rounds, you were ready to give up, but Jessie convinced you to go for one more try. And as she promised, the fourth time was successful. You couldn't have wished for a better, more caring partner than Jessie during the 9 months. Now, though, it was like you fell in love with her again and again every other day. Jessie caring for you was one thing, but seeing Jessie care for your daughter had you feeling ways you don't think would ever be replicated by anyone or anything else.

Jessie would get quite insecure from time to time about how much time she spent away from home. Before Amelia was born, you two had grown accustomed to spending time away from each other, but ever since you had your little girl Jessie seemed to struggle with it a lot more. Endless Facetime calls from across the world would never ever come close to the real thing, but they would have to make do for the time being.

That's why, even though she only reluctantly agreed to the plan of bringing Amelia with you for the first time, she couldn't contain her excitement about the prospect of having her daughter in the stands for the first time. Occasions like these didn't come around too often, especially since you didn't travel around the world anymore to watch your wife now that you had a daughter. So to have a game in Portland on a time and day that worked out perfectly for you as a family, you really couldn't let the opportunity pass.

Your usual routine of getting ready for Jessie's matches now included getting your daughter ready too. Instead of bringing Amelia to your or Jessie's parents, she stayed with you throughout the day. You were both wearing matching Portland kits, your wife's name on the back. You knew how much Jessie loved seeing you wearing her last name on your back, let alone her daughter of 5.

Before you knew it, it was time to leave and you and your daughter found yourselves in your car, making your way to Providence Park. You'd left quite early, not wanting to be stuck in Portland traffic, which you knew would have driven your daughter crazy. Forever impatient – a trait she'd definitely taken over you –, it was never a good idea to be on a drive with Amelia during rush hour.

You parked in your usual spot in the family car park, making your way over to Jessie's family box. Her parents and sister were already there, neither would they miss the opportunity to watch their daughter and sister play football, especially now that they didn't have to watch Amelia for once. You held your daughter comfortably on your hip, her outstretched arms immediately looking for her grandmother when you said hello to Jessie's mum. You let her take Amelia while you said hello to everyone else, mingling a little and having a drink before you made your way over to your seat and waited for the match to begin, Amelia sitting proudly on your lap.

Your daughter couldn't contain her excitement when the teams walked out and she saw Jessie, jumping up and down in your lap and clapping her hands when the league anthem sounded in the stadium. As part of her routine, Jessie looked up towards her family box before she walked to her spot on the field, shooting the five of you a small wave before taking her concentration back for the following 90 minutes.

The game went by quick, your daughter asking you questions every now and then about what was happening. She was surprisedly interested, not sparing her koala teddy or toys a single glance – up until Jessie was subbed off in the 80th minute, then she found it a little harder to keep still. Elysse proposed to take her off you for a while, entertaining Amelia for the remaining couple minutes of the game. Not long after, the referee blew the whistle, signaling the end of the match that ended in a 2-1 win for Jessie and her teammates. She didn't get a goal or an assist, but she had been instrumental in her team's build-up play and you knew that she would be happy with her performance.

The team made the lap around the pitch and made sure to thank the fans that had come out to see them, signing a shirt or taking a picture every now and then. You were enamoured with the way Jessie interacted with kids, it had always been a topic of conversation between the two of you before you had Amelia. She was so good with kids and whenever you would see her interacting with her mascot, or children that had come to see the game, you felt a strong sense of domesticity overcome you and simply couldn't wait to have one of your own. Standing here, Amelia on your hip animatedly telling you about how she thought her mama was so cool playing football, you couldn't really believe that this was life.

Before long, Jessie and her teammates arrived at the family section and players started to climb over the bars to make their way to their family and friends. Jessie lingered a little with Janine's family before she made her way over to her family, engulfing her parents and Elysse in a big group hug. She hadn't seen them for quite some time, football wasn't a particularly forgiving job so she was happy that she got to see them whenever she could. Amelia grew restless quite quickly and kept poking you and asking to be put down, but you knew Jessie liked the little moment of peace with her parents so you relented.

After a couple more moments Jessie managed to wriggle herself out of the conversation and eagerly made her way over to you both, a big grin forming on her face when she noticed Amelia sitting on your hip. Your daughter stuck her arms out for Jessie to grab and you let her, your wife smoothly taking her from you and settling her on her hip. "Mama, I watched you the whole game!" Amelia exclaimed, looking on with wide eyes at your wife, proudly telling her everything about the game that she noticed and remembered. You watched on as they interacted, your feelings overcome with pride as you thought about the little family you and Jessie had created.

A couple minutes later, Jessie put Amelia back down as she asked to go play with Elysse, the both of them now running around the family box as Amelia's giggled could be heard throughout the whole block. Jessie moved closer to you and pressed a quick, sweet kiss on your lips. "Thank you for coming, thank you for bringing Amelia. I loved it more than I thought I would," she exclaimed, leaning her head on your shoulder as you affectionately rubbed her back.

You pressed a kiss against her crown before speaking up. "I knew you'd like it. I loved it too, it's really nice to think about the little family we've created together."

Jessie looked up at you and you couldn't miss the unshed tears in her eyes, quickly wiping them away before they could spill. "I'm proud of this. Of us. We did so good," Jessie said, intertwining her fingers with yours. You both watched as Elysse was now running around with Amelia on her shoulders.

"We did very good. I love our family and I love you, Jess." Jessie squeezed your hand. "Forever."

[thehereticdiaries]

WKTO: Holy Fuck, that's Ateez

Summary: You and your best friend have made it to the concert you've been looking forward to for MONTHS: Ateez! You have an amazing time, but at the end of the night you want nothing more than to crash onto the hotel bed. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately?) those plans get interrupted.

Mix of tweets, texts, and written story! Let me know if this is any good, it's my first try at an smau.

Series Masterlist

"Y/N, come on I need you to help with my eyeshadow," Chelsea complained from the hotel room's bathroom.

"Okay, okay. Honestly, why did you even pick a look you know is beyond your skill set?" You grumbled, grabbing both of your makeup bags and dragging your best friend out into the main room.

"Because I have you!" She grinned at you and plopped on the floor in between the beds. It took you a little under an hour to do both of your makeup looks and get dressed {idk how to do makeup irl sorry if this isnt enough time}.

"Damn, we look so good!" You gushed as you checked your outfits in the mirror.

"Hell yea we do! But what now? We still have, like, seven hours until we need to leave."

"We sit in silence and go on tiktok until it's time to go," you said while grabbing your phone from the bed. "Just make sure you don't let your phone die. We have power banks, but we should leave at 100%."

"Excellent plan." Chelsea mirrored your actions, sitting next to you on the small loveseat against the wall. First thing's first: you needed to post a photo of your outfit.

Seven hours passed by very quickly with the help of edits and compilations. You buzzed with anticipation while you waited for the Uber in the lobby.

"Chelsea I am literally going to explode," you bounced on your heels in excitement.

"No because same. I can't believe I'm going to see them with my own two eyes," she grinned and smacked your shoulder repeatedly. You swatted her hand away, looking at your phone when it vibrated.

"Yes! Uber's here, let's go." You corralled her out the door and into the car. The driver, a lovely middle-aged woman, thoroughly complimented your outfits, letting the two of you ramble on about Ateez. There was no way in hell she would remember all of their names, but she was very sweet and nodded along in all the right places.

"Holy shit, this place is huge," Chelsea whistled at the size of the stadium. You tugged her into the entrance line, chatting with the other ATINYs.

"I love that you added San's anarchy symbol! Isn't it going to smudge, though?" A pink-haired girl behind you asked.

"I went on some cosplay blogs and found a really good primer and setting spray. The person that suggested them goes to conventions as Sukuna, Akaza, and Kankuro and their paint lasts all day," you explained, pulling up the photos the cosplayer posted.

The venue employees finally opened the entrances, stealing your attention from the girl behind you. Your impatience grew stronger the closer you got to the security line. You didn't really expect to find a spot at the barricade, despite Beomgyu's teasing. But you had luck and Chelsea on your side, and she managed to worm her way up front, dragging you along with her. At 7 o'clock on the dot, the lights dropped and music blasted from the speakers.

After their final goodbyes, Ateez disappeared backstage. The overhead lights blinded you as they powered on. Your cheeks hurt from smiling so hard and your throat hurt from screaming for three hours straight.

"That was better than amazing. That was life-changing. A true religious experience," Chelsea sighed dreamily. You hit up the merch booth before heading outside to wait for your ride back to the hotel.

"Are your ears ringing as bad as mine?" You leaned your head on Chelsea's shoulder.

"Oh definitely. We really should have listened to Hyeongjun and Yuna and gotten earplugs," she agreed loudly.

"You're shouting." You pinched her knee as emphasis. She rolled her eyes and pulled you to the Uber that parked nearby. It was past 11 when you got back to your room and you were starving.

"I'm getting DoorDash, what do you want?" Chelsea asked from where she splayed out on the floor. The two of you ordered an excessive amount of food, sitting in a comfortable silence while you waited.

"David will be here in five minutes with our food, go wait in the lobby." You glared at the older girl.

"Why me? I'm comfortable."

"You still have your shoes on. Just go, please," she whined and shot you her best puppy eyes.

"Fine. You're lucky you're cute." You grabbed your room key and trudged down to the lobby. You tapped your foot impatiently, looking around at the artwork on the walls. A group of very familiar faces entered from a side door, and your eyes widened to the size of dinner plates.

Despite your best efforts, you couldn't keep your eyes off the idols. You sat like a deer in headlights. Did you want them to notice you or did you want to launch yourself into the sun? Yes. Well, they did notice you, but they were much more subtle with their glances.

Before Hongjoong could stop them, Seonghwa and Yeosang approached you.

"Hi! You're an ATINY, right?" The eldest was the first to speak. You nodded, unable to form a coherent sentence. "Were you at the show?" Again, you nodded.

"Skipping the small talk, did you know we were staying here? Did you follow us from the venue?" Your jaw dropped at Yeosang's questions.

"No! No, of course not. I booked a room here a couple weeks ago because I found a deal on Groupon," you quickly explained yourself. "I'm so sorry if I freaked you out, I swear I didn't know."

"Looks like Hongjoong and Jongho were worried for nothing. I'll let them know," Seonghwa smiled at you before turning back to his other members. The others eyed you with a mix of apprehension and interest. You were very aware of Yeosang standing two feet to your right.

"How did you like the show?" Yeosang titled his head, waiting expectantly for your answer.

"It was amazing. I had so much fun, it was unlike any other concert that I've been to," you praised, feeling shy under the idol's gaze.

"I'm glad to hear it."

"I knew she was at the show." You jumped slightly when San suddenly appeared next to Yeosang.

"You knew?" The older boy furrowed his brows.

"Mhm. I recognized her hair and belt." You flushed as their eyes trailed over your body. You awkwardly clasped your hands in front of you to hide your exposed midriff.

"Are those real?" San gestured to the symbols on your thigh and hip.

"The one on my leg is. This one is paint."

"It held up really well," Yeosang noted. You fumbled over your own thoughts. You were practically short-circuiting at this point and couldn't figure out how to continue the conversation.

"Are you Chelsea?" A man wearing a DoorDash hat handed you the large bag of food when you nodded.

"That's a lot of stuff for one girl," San teased.

"It's not just for me. Chelsea is my friend, we ordered on her account. Speaking of, I should really get back to my room. I'm sure she's wondering where I am." You began a hasty retreat.

"Wait, what's your name, then?" San asked before you could turn to the elevator.

"O-oh, I'm Y/N."

"Well, Y/N, we're having breakfast at the cafe across the street tomorrow at 9. If you're interested, you can join us. Bring Chelsea, too." You gaped at the idol, unable to process the invitation.

"Uhm, okay. Yeah! Sure, I'll talk to Chelsea about it. Uh, gooodnight," you stuttered and scurried away to the elevator.

"Goodnight, little ATINY!" San called out just before the elevator doors closed.

Permanent Taglist: @furfoxsake22 @babygirlskz98 @miniverse-zen @holly-here @corgilover20 @eastjonowhere @bookswillfindyouaway

Series Taglist: @staytinyluv

[antlerclxws]

CHLOE CHARMING HEADCANONS!

- She is autistic! She often uses noise canceling headphones or earplugs during sword practice, the sounds of the swords hitting each other makes her teeth grind.

- Lesbian! But not very out and open about it, Chad is the only one that knows apart from Red but she is certainly trying to come out! Mostly on her own terms.

- Has ADHD (Audhd girlie!) and often forgets to eat meals when really hyper-fixated on something, like her history books or her swords training, a lot of the times Red does have to remind her or bring her small snacks in between her breaks

- After coming back to the present time with Red, her relationship with her mother was very protective(?) in a way. She was a little worried about being away from her mother and would take many opportunities to be back with Cinderella. It took months for her to get a hold on the idea that her mother was safe again.

- Chloe is a chronic clothing stealer, her closet is full of Red’s clothes even though they stand out so bright in her closet and color scheme. It makes her laugh to have people shoot her some odd looks as they see bright red with golds, whites and baby blues. It serves as a reminder in Chloe’s mind that Red loves her, enough to share her clothes with her.

- Uses ASL! Since Chloe has some bad meltdowns sometimes when too overwhelmed or simply overtired, she uses sign language and has been since she was a kid and King Charming taught it to her! The entire Charming family uses it to communicate with Chloe when she goes nonverbal and Red is actively on her way to becoming fluent in it to understand and aid Chloe better.

- Her and Chad used to be double trouble when they were kids, they would run around the castle in races and narrowly avoid knocking over a servant or two in the process. They would make anything a competition; Who could get to dinner faster, who could read a chapter of Mom’s favorite book faster, who loves Mom and Dad more, so on and so on!

- Chloe’s favorite place to go on a date is to the museum!! She likes to look at all the museum of cultural history has and she loves to go on long rants about some of the exhibits there. Her second favorite place is a botanical garden because she likes how peaceful there are, and Red loves taking her any where when they’re allowed to.

- Chloe still wonders about Wonderland, even more so now that they’ve come and gone in the past. She doesn’t want to get Red upset with her by asking after them but she still thinks about it from time to time. (“Did flamingo feathers always taste good?”)

- She is actually one of the biggest sort of advocate for anything if she or someone else needs it, even if it means being a bit mean to get there. Chloe doesn’t find it fair that she has to ask for certain things and have people get a bit snotty in response, although it’s Auradon, what should she expect with women like Audrey’s grandmother?

- Chloe age regresses! A coping mechanism sometimes for her mind when she’s too stressed or too anxious, she has a mental age range of around 7-9 and tends to only be around her brother or Red when she does regress, she’s only comfortable around them.

- Chloe was actually the one to first ask Red out instead of Red asking her out! She did it at the enchanted lake, it was a planned hangout where they were supposed to swim, but her nerves made her too nervous to even get near the water. She asked Red to be her girlfriend while they were sitting at the edge of the water, blurting it out so suddenly that it made them both stare at each other with wide eyes.

(She did go for a swim after, practically dunking herself under so she didn’t have to hear Red reject her at first, but she never did. So she had a girlfriend AND soaking wet clothes.)

[padfootagain]

Black Dog Neighbour

Hi everyone ! Today, we’re answering a request made for my 6k followers event by @nobodyshomearchive : “hi hello lovely xxi have been hooked to your blog lately, and to say that is an understatement in all honesty. congratulations on 6k followers <33 so for your celebration can i get an enemies to lovers (ouh massive surprise 👀) with sirius black (preferably post azkaban but it's okay if you don't want to!) cause i'm literally so head over heels for that man. and i'm loving your something good series :) again, congrats and feel free to ignore the request if you don't feel like writing it/it doesn't hit your creative spot.

have a great day/night hun <;3”

Thank you so much for your request, and I hope you like this! I didn’t do post-azkaban Sirius, because he doesn’t exist in my brain. I have been in denial for so long, the Potters are living their best lives, didn’t you know?!

Anyway, still went for post-Hogwarts and post-war Sirius, simply didn’t include anything referencing to Azkaban or… anything canon compliant, to be fair. But as per usual for me when it comes to this character…

Hope you like this! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Sirius Black x reader

Warnings: A small warning for an ex being an arse and showing up drunk on your doorstep (there’s nothing violent, but you do physically push him away, so heads up on that, just in case). But the rest’s cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuute!!!

Summary: God, you hate that guy next door. Bloody annoying neighbour with his noisy motorcycle, his loud friends, his annoying laugh, his charming smile, his amazing hair, his effortless way to sport sexy leather jackets. He’s insufferable, you hate him to bits. The fact that he’s a talented wizard who can magically change into a dog to guard your door when your ex comes bothering you again will not change your first impression in the slightest, by the way. You still hate him to guts. Probably…

Word count: 4592

Sirius Black Masterlist – Main Masterlist

Sirius fucking Black.

Your neighbour, aka worst enemy, aka the person you despise the most on earth.

He is loud. He is annoyingly pretty. He is getting on your fucking nerves... again!

Of course, it is Friday night, which means that his stupid friends are over for a “boys’ night”. What a scam…

In consequence, you are currently casting sound-proofing spells all over your walls in an attempt to shush their idiotic laughs. And especially Sirius’s; his unmistakable bark-like laughter, loud and boisterous and absolutely prone to draw a grin from your face even if you don’t mean to. By Agrippa’s hat, you will soon either cut his throat or call for an auror. Or maybe you could burst into his apartment and shout into his face just so he can see how bloody annoying that is. Or kissing him to shut him up sounds like a plan, too…

You shake your head, grinning at your own genius idea. Sirius and his friends are being rudely loud again, when you have already told them a thousand times – which is to say every Friday for the last six months, since Sirius moved in the apartment next to yours – that the walls in this old building of Diagon Alley are too thin, that you can hear everything going on in Sirius’s apartment despite sound-proofing spells… and that they need to keep it down past 11pm because you have work the next day. The absolute dread of working in retails does not, by any means, spare the Wizards and Witches of this world…

You look through your apartment for the object that would make the most noise. You give a few items a try, but settle for the good old pan and spoon. Ha, what precious allies these two are, never failing you.

You add a little spell to amplify sounds – just for good measure – find some earplugs, and then proceed to bang the shit out of that pan, right by your common wall with Sirius’s apartment.

It goes on for five full minutes before you manage to catch the quietened sound of something against your door…

And sure enough, when you stop and take your earplugs out, someone is banging at your door.

“Y/N!” a voice that you easily recognize shouts. “STOP THIS FUCKING NOISE!”

You open the door wide, and have to bend to the side to avoid Sirius’s fist as it misses the door.

“Merlin! Sorry! You’re okay? I didn’t touch you, right?” Sirius asks with anger instantly replaced with worry.

“I have amazing reflexes.”

And anger is back into his dark grey eyes again...

“What the fuck are you doing in there?! Are you mental?!”

“I don’t know, Sirius. I didn’t notice anything over the cacophony of your friends shouting into my ears all night!”

His jaw clenches, and you hate yourself for noticing the trembling of the muscle there, and finding it terribly attractive…

“And you had to make all this ruckus instead of simply walking three meters to my door and nicely ask us to shut our mouths because…?”

“Because I’ve asked you dozens of times, this has been going on for fucking months, Sirius!”

He rolls his eyes, and Merlin do you want to punch him straight across the jaw… his very sharp, very pretty jaw…

“We’re just having a nice evening…”

“And I am trying to sleep!”

“It’s barely midnight!”

“I work tomorrow, you asshole!”

“Ermm… guys?”

“WHAT?!” you both exclaim, turning to face a shy-looking Remus.

“Sorry about the noise, Y/N. We’ll be more careful next time. We’ll leave for the evening.”

“You don’t have to leave…” Sirius complains, but James is already walking out, helping a drunk Peter to cross the corridor.

“It’s late, anyway. Lily’s gonna worry, I was supposed to be home twenty minutes ago,” James argues, and Sirius has to yield.

“Alright, see you on Sunday, then!” he shoots his friends a grin, and the group waves at you.

You rudely ignore them, crossing your arms before your chest. And as Sirius turns back to you, his frown is icy and he quickly matches your stance.

“You’re such a pain in my ass, Y/N…”

“And you’re a jerk.”

“Asshole.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“You’re one to talk!”

“Oh, you talk plenty enough for both of us. And loudly so!”

Before he can reply, you’ve stepped back into your apartment and slammed the door.

You hear him pestering after you for a moment, then nothing, and finally a door slamming.

Well, that went well…

You are in trouble.

Big… huge trouble.

Your ex has just stepped into your shop, and you don’t know how to react.

You didn’t break up in a horrendous way, on the contrary! He wanted the two of you to remain friends, and you simply didn’t, worried that you wouldn’t be able to get over each other if you stayed in touch. And by the look he gave you as he stepped inside your shop ten minutes ago, and the many glances he’s thrown at you since, you’re pretty sure that you were right about this.

It's not like your relationship was terrible, by any means. Josh was nice, reliable, but also… not for you. You didn’t have much in common, at the end of the day, and if his personality and looks were nice, it was hard to build a lasting relationship on… nothing. It was for the best that you called it quits.

And as if your day needed any darkening, Sirius Black chooses this very moment to step into your shop. You don’t wait for him to aim for the counter to take out a large pouch in which you have gathered all the ingredients for his friend’s monthly brew. He smiles at the sight, moves towards you. And you hate yourself for the leap your heart makes as he comes closer.

“Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi.”

It’s the first time you speak to each other since the ‘spoon and pan incident’, and you both hesitate. How are you supposed to act now? Apologise for being petty and kind of a dick? Ask for his apology for being a dick? Act like nothing happened?

“Thanks for Remus’s stuff,” Sirius says, voice quieter than usual, gentle, asking for a truce.

Outside, it’s snowing, winter claiming the streets of London, and there are little snowflakes caught in Sirius’s hair. It looks lovely.

All of a sudden, you’re longing for some eggnog, and some pumpkin pie.

His fingers are cold when they meet yours, tips brushing over your knuckles as he picks up the bag, and you hate your own heart for stammering.

“No problem. You know the drill,” you tentatively smile, while Sirius hands you some silvery Sickles.

“I would also need pearl dust, please. Here’s the amount.”

He hands you a parchment with quantities written on it, four small packages to be prepared separately.

“How many hearts do you intend to break with so many love potions?” you joke, turning around to get to work.

The brass scale is set on a small table, pushed right against the wall, behind the counter. It is an easy task for a professional like you, measuring quickly while Sirius laughs.

“No one, thankfully,” he replied.

“Oh… some Amortentia, perhaps? Trying to figure out who your crush likes?”

“No… nothing like that. It’s the properties for invisibility that I’m looking for.”

“If you plan on breaking into Gringotts, I don’t want to know.”

Again, a loud laugh. And you wish you could hold back your smile, but you can’t, the sound is too infectious for that.

You’ve forgotten that your ex is here, you’re reminded of his presence only when you turn back towards Sirius and he’s standing right behind your tall neighbour, a bag of potion ingredients in his hands.

You avert your eyes, and Sirius frowns at the sight. He glances over his shoulder, spots your ex, but says nothing. You only notice how he tightens his hold on the pouch.

“Pearl dust’s quite expensive,” you tell him, handing him the phials, before announcing the price.

“That’s alright.”

He hands you the galleons, takes the vials, but doesn’t step away just yet.

“You… you’re okay?” he asks, and you’re not sure what to do with his expression. It’s somewhere between annoyance and genuine concern.

“Yeah, sure.”

He nods, like he’s disappointed. He’s not bringing up The Incident, and so you won’t either.

“Right, good day.”

He turns in a hurry, not waiting for your answer, but you notice the way he throws a look back before stepping out into the street, snow falling over his dark coat and dark hair again. You hate how your eyes linger on his frame until he’s out of sight, walking down the busy street, but you can’t help it…

“Hello, Y/N.”

You’re brought back to Earth as your ex speaks, and you turn to him, your smile turning from genuine to polite.

“Hi, Josh.”

“How are you?”

“Good! Do you need anything else?” you ask, pointing at the ingredients he’s put on the counter.

“Huh… no, nothing else.”

“That makes two Galleons, 5 Sickles and 3 Knuts, please.”

He hands you some money, and you hand him his change. You see him hesitating, before diving.

“Look, I… I came here hoping to see you.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, I… I’ve been meaning to tell you. I’ve been thinking a lot lately, about what happened, and… Look, I know I could have done better when it came to us. And I thought… perhaps… if you were willing to give me another chance…”

“Josh…”

“Just… hear me out...”

“No. I’m sorry, but no. We… we were not compatible, that’s all. I like you, you’re nice, but… It won’t work between us.”

Slowly, he nodded, apparently defeated. And when another client cleared their throat behind him, he finally left.

What a mess of a morning…

It is Friday night, and the Marauders are keeping it down. You are surprised by it, but you can only praise these men for being, for once, well-behaved. 11:30, as you slip under the covers, ready for some well-deserved rest before waking up too early to open the shop in the morning. You are ready to fall into Morpheus’s arms and abandon yourself to slumber when someone knocks on your door.

You ignore the sound for a while, but it starts again, and again…

And you thought Sirius was making some efforts. You were ready to commit murder…

You stand up, grab a bathrobe and walk to the door, ready to throw hands with Sirius at this point. Only… only, when you actually open the door, it’s not Sirius who’s facing your wrath.

It’s Josh.

“What… What are you doing here?” you ask, too stunned to think about being polite. “It’s almost midnight.”

But then he looks up at you, and you notice at once that he’s been drinking. His eyes are glimmering, he sways slightly before finding back his balance…

“Josh…”

“Y/N, I… I know that now is not the time, but… please, give me another chance. Please…”

“Josh, we’ve talked about this. Us… it’s over. We’re not getting back together. I’m sorry.”

“But I can try and be better. I’ll be better, let me show you.”

You push him off when he staggers forward, trying to hold you.

“Josh! Stop it!” you raise your voice, trying to get him to let go.

“Please…”

“I said no! Get off!”

He’s finally letting go, but doesn’t take a step back. Instead, he leans against your doorframe, not stepping inside, but making it impossible for you to simply go back in and close the door.

“Josh! Go away! I’m sorry, but this is over between us. You have to leave me alone!”

“But I don’t want to! Y/N!”

“Hey!”

You’re both distracted by the new voice that comes shouting through the corridor. Sirius is standing before his front door, wearing a Queen t-shirt and some dark sweatpants, in what you guess his is nightly outfit. Still, when he comes nearer, hair tied in a bun, glowering, he looks intimidating, tattoos all over his arms on full display, traces of ink peeking above the collar of his t-shirt.

You think for a second that he’s going to make a scene because of how noisy you are right now, not ironic at all given his habits of messing your sleeping schedule, and you’re ready to get angry at him, because this truly is the last thing you need tonight, when…

“You leave her the fuck alone!”

You’re too stunned to react when Sirius comes to stand right by your side.

“She told you to fuck off, so you fuck off!”

“Who the fuck are you?” Josh replied, words a little slurred.

“Her boyfriend,” Sirius lies, but it works wonders, as Josh becomes suddenly very pale. “Now, you fuck off, or I’ll throw you out of the building.”

“You? With him?” Josh asks as he turns to you, and you feel pity for the pain in his eyes, but you don’t regret leaving him.

“Yeah. He’s my boyfriend. Now, please, Josh… leave me alone.”

But he shakes his head.

“I can’t. I can’t. I still love you…”

Sirius looks at you, but you shake your head.

“You have to leave me alone and move on.”

“No… I… I’ll come back later…”

Sirius notices your worry, it almost looks like fear, and he doesn’t hesitate when he grabs Josh by the collar.

“You listen to me now, dickhead,” Sirius growls, it’s almost animalistic, and you’re frozen by this threatening tone of his. “If you set a foot in this building again, if you go see her at her shop, if you so much as breathe in her direction or step in the street she’s in, I will come for you, and I will make sure you can never bother her again. Do you get that?”

“You’re bluffing.”

Sirius grins, something twisted and terribly dark, and even you shiver when he speaks again, voice low and terrible.

“I fought for the Order during the war. I’m a Black. Trust me, you don’t want to fuck with me.”

Slowly, Josh nods, struggling to swallow.

“So… will you leave her alone?”

Again, Josh nods.

“Good boy. Now get the fuck out of here.”

He’s barely released Josh that he’s sprinting down the stairs, stumbling and catching himself against the wall, before disappearing.

But you don’t see that. You’re staring at Sirius, and seem unable to look away.

“You’re alright?”

You’re startled by the softness Sirius’s voice is now wearing, such a stark contrast with the threatening tone he wore a minute ago.

“Y/N? You’re okay? He didn’t hurt you, right?”

“What? No… no, I’m fine! He just… showed up and I couldn’t get rid of him.”

“Yeah, I figured.”

“Thank you,” you whisper as he gets closer.

“You’re sure you’re alright?”

“Yeah, just… a little shaken, I think.”

Slowly, Sirius nods.

“Hey, no need to worry, okay? I’ll keep an eye out tonight. He won’t bother you again. And if he does, in the coming days or weeks, and I’m not around, then you come and tell me. I’ll give him a good fright, and he’ll leave you alone.”

“Thanks but… why would you do that for me? You hate me.”

Sirius chuckles at that, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t hate you. You’re annoying, but I don’t hate you.”

“Oh…”

His touch is infinitely gentle when he rests his hand on your arm.

“You can go back to sleep. Don’t worry, he won’t bother you again tonight. I promise.”

Slowly, you nod, a little too stunned to complain or argue or discuss what has just happened. Instead, you walk back to your apartment, lock the door, and go back to bed, thinking about the way Sirius’s hands looked gentle without his rings…

You’re in a hurry this morning. Your brain has not finished to process everything that has happened last night, but this will have to wait. You must rush to the shop, and you can’t find your bloody wand…

Ha! There! What is it doing under the couch? Never mind, you need to hurry, and you need to hurry now!

Only, when you open the front door, you almost trip onto a large black door sleeping on your threshold. A huge black dog, as a matter of fact.

“What in Merlin’s beard…?!”

His ears perk up at the sound of your voice, and he looks up at you with dark grey eyes that remind you of someone…

But it’s impossible, of course. That must be his dog, though. Since when does Sirius has a dog though?!

The animal slowly stands, a real giant, all dark fur and intimidating growls, until he’s shaken some sleep off its frame, and then he looks up at you, as if expecting a command.

“Hi,” you say, feeling foolish, but finding nothing better to say.

The dog merely comes closer, slowly, ears down in submission, as if he’s worried to scare you away. You hold out your hand, and he hurries to rub his snout into it, licking your fingers.

You giggle at the sensation.

“You look intimidating, but you’re a good boy, aren’t you?”

He barks in agreement, and you give him scratches as a reward.

“Who do you belong to, huh? Are you Sirius’s dog?”

The dog merely licks your fingers again.

“You look the part, at least. You fit the motorcycle-and-leather-jackets aesthetic.”

A few scratches more, and you finally remember that you are running late…

“Shoot!”

You lock the door, hurry towards the stairs. But you stop the dog when he tries to follow.

“No, no, no! I’m going to work, you stay here. I’m sure Sirius will be back soon. You stay here.”

The dog blinks, but sits anyway, letting you go.

For the whole trip to the store, you wonder who this dog belongs to, and who would let him sleep outside like this. If he really did belong to Sirius, he would hear about this…

Your day is a weird one.

After arriving almost late, but not quite, you spend your morning being busy and running around the store looking for the right ingredients for various potions and clients. And yet, several times during your shift, you feel someone looking at you.

The first time, it’s Sirius, who’s squinting on the other side of the glass door. He looks away the second your eyes land on him, and you’re almost certain that he blushes, although you didn’t think it to be possible to make Sirius Black blush.

The second time, it’s the black dog again, who remains sitting by the door under the falling snow for about ten minutes before leaving.

The third time, it’s the dog again, you see him being petted by a customer as she walks out of the shop.

But if the dog belongs to Sirius, then you guess that he’s been around several times throughout the day, which seems odd. Also, you want to chastise him for leaving the animal alone in the cold for extended periods of time throughout the day. Is he heartless?!

So, as you go home that night, you leave your coat in your apartment before heading to Sirius’s.

He answers on the second knock.

“Oh! Hi, Y/N!” he grins a welcome at you. “Need anything?”

“Yeah… I wanted to talk to you, if you have a minute.”

He merely nods, moving to let you inside.

You’ve been here a couple of times before, but you still appreciate the warm atmosphere of the large space that forms his living room. A huge Gryffindor flag is hung across the wall on the right, while windows let you see falling snow over the roofs of Diagon Alley on the opposite side of the room. A large chimney surrounded by comfortable armchairs and sofas, along with a soft red carpet seem to call for you.

“So? What can I do for you, Y/N?”

You turn to him again while he points at the sofa, silently inviting you to sit, but you remain standing. You cross your arms, and he frowns at the sight.

“Where’s your dog?”

Your tone is sharper now, and his frown only deepens, brows knitted together.

“My what?”

“Your dog. Huge. Black. Looks like he could bite my throat off.”

“I don’t have a dog.”

“Really? He’s been following me around all day. He was on my threshold this morning…”

“…Y/N…” he tries to interrupt you, but you don’t let him.

“No! Listen… Thank you for what you did last night. I was really… Thank you. Josh wouldn’t leave and you were most definitely helpful. But let’s be clear, I’m a big girl, and I can take care of myself! I don’t need your protection or anything, got it?”

You wonder why he’s smiling now, but he is all the same.

“Got it. Was just trying to be helpful.”

“You were.”

“Good.”

“Good. But your good action doesn’t mean that I’m going to accept any harm coming to this cute dog of yours!”

“I thought he wanted to bite your throat off.”

“He looked like he could. He was pretty sweet, though.”

“Hmmm…”

“Anyway… what’s wrong with you!? Leaving him outside all night and then in the street while it was snowing!?”

“Y/N, relax. I don’t have a dog, let me explain.”

“Then whose dog is it? Cause we have to find his owner, I’m going to throw hands!”

Sirius laughs, his usual, bark-like laugh, and your puzzled by the sound. It resembles a bark even more than usual.

Sirius heaves a sigh, shakes his head, apparently hesitating, but eventually, he takes a step closer.

“You have to promise me that you won’t tell anyone about this.”

“Why?”

“Because if you do, I might be arrested.”

Your eyes grow round.

Oh dear… the…

“…Potion. The potion! You’ve done something illegal with it!”

Sirius laughs again.

“The pearl dust you mean? It’s just a trick for my godson, for Christmas. How do you think the presents get under the tree without anyone carrying them in? The fellow is a rascal, standing watch all night to catch Santa red-handed. We need to get more and more creative each year. No, don’t worry, it’s nothing like that.”

“Oh… but then… what are you talking about?”

“Do you promise that you won’t tell?”

“Have you killed someone?”

“Of course not!”

“I don’t know, you were pretty… scary last night.”

“Did I scare you?”

“No… but Josh was ready to faint.”

He laughs again at that.

“I haven’t harmed anyone.”

“Okay… then, I promise.”

Sirius hesitates some more, before warning you not to freak out. You don’t have time to question him though, he’s already transforming into…

“… the black dog!”

You gasp at the sight, but you don’t back away when Sirius approaches under his animagus form. Instead, you reach out for him, giving him a few scratches between his ears, making him wiggle his tail happily.

“Oh wow… you’re an animagus! This is beautiful…”

He laughs as he changes back into human, the sound still somewhere close to a growl.

“Am I a good boy, then?” he teases, making you laugh. “No need to call for the animal welfare…”

“But… what were you doing around the shop today? And last night? Did you sleep on the porch?”

Sirius averts his eyes, and you have to double-check, but you’re certain that he is blushing right now.

“Ha, that… I didn’t mean to look like a creep or anything. But I… I was worried your ex would come back. Just wanted to check on you, ‘s all. I didn’t follow you around or anything! I just… went to check that you were alright at the shop a few times.”

“Why?”

He looks up at you with a slight frown, as if it is obvious, as if you’re stupid for not guessing.

“Because… I was worried about you.”

“About me?”

“Is it so surprising?”

“You hate me.”

“Again, I don’t hate you. You’re simply annoying the shit out of me. I like it, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh.”

You blink, trying to make sense of all this, and Sirius looks at you with amusement.

“Is that why you were quiet last night? To not bother me?”

“Oh, the boys weren’t here. Busy week. We’ll be back at being insufferable next Friday.”

You roll your eyes at that, but Sirius laughs.

“I’m joking! I understand, okay? We’re too loud. We’ll keep it down from now on.”

“Right, okay…”

He bit his lip, ran a hand through his hair, in what you guess is shyness. God, you would have never thought to use this adjective to describe him. His rings catch the warm light of the fire burning in the hearth as he moves his fingers through his hair.

“Look, I… I’m sorry for the other night. Actually… for all the other nights. We’ll be more careful next time,” he says, and you raise an eyebrow in surprise.

You never thought you would hear an apology from him, even less so an earnest one, and yet…

“Thank you, Sirius. I’m sorry, too. It was petty and uncalled for.”

“No, you… you were right.”

He heaves a frustrated sigh, runs a hand through his long dark curls again, rebel strands falling before his eyes. You hold tightly onto the sleeve of your hoodie, refraining the sudden urge to push the curls away from his face, brush them behind his ear…

“Look, I… I don’t want us to be on bad terms,” Sirius goes on. “Could I make up for being a dickhead by buying you some fancy Christmas drink? My treat. As a token of good faith and a sign for peace in our building?”

He offers you his open palm, and you shake hands with a smile adorning both of your faces.

“Deal.”

“Any afternoon free this week?”

“Wednesday?”

“Then, I’ll buy you the fanciest cocoa I can find. And even some pumpkin pie, if you’re nice.”

“Sounds good.”

You’re reluctant to pull away but have to let go of his hand.

“Actually… scratch that,” Sirius shakes his head. “Would you go on a date with me?”

Your eyes grow round.

“A date? With you?”

“Yeah. On Wednesday?”

“But… with you?”

“Don’t act so surprised. You really think I play bodyguard for just anybody?”

You laugh at that, you can’t help it, even if you’re still quite stunned by the whole situation.

You weight your options, but then you look at him again, and the answer you want to give is obvious, even if he gets on your nerves all the bloody time…

“Okay. A date. On Wednesday.”

He grins, bright and infectious.

“Great! Awesome!”

“Great.”

“Great.”

You remain staring at each other for a moment, both of you trying to hide your excitement, until you finally clear your throat.

“I should…” you begin, pointing at the door.

“Sure… busy day?”

“You can’t imagine.”

“Hmm…”

You hurry towards the door, feeling overwhelmed by his nearness.

“See you on Wednesday then!” he calls after you as you reach for your own door.

“Sure! But it better be the best hot chocolate I’ve drunk, or I’ll ask for a refund!”

He laughs, and when you turn one last time towards him, Sirius is leaning against his doorframe, staring at you with a grin on his lips and mischief painted all over his features. He winks, and your heart skips several beats.

“Oh, don’t worry. You won’t regret this.”

*********************************

Taglist :

@reg-arcturus-black @hells-escapees @omgrachwrites

@wolfmoonmusic

[another-nihilist]

Please comment or reblog for my selfworth:

Idea for a boldheart fanfiction- feel free to add to it!

It begins post movie when Bal is in his tower and wants to plan a surprise for Ambrosius.

But since Ambrosius is literally glued to his side, it's literally impossible. And he kind of likes his boyfriend always being with him so he wouldn't tell Ambrosius to give him space.

Instead he pretends to be nimona with these easy steps:

1. Get earplugs and put them in his ears

2. Blast full on freestyle Jazz and pretend to enjoy it.

3. A pink Streak for the hair, just to be on the safe side.

At first it works, with Ambrosius even telling him that he would never fall for such a cheap Ballister Imitation. At least until Nimona opens the door.

Ballister meanwhile focuses on planning his suprise, as he doesn't hear the two.

So from Nimonas and especially Ambrosius point of view:

1. Ballister being apathetic and kind of lethargic, doesn't seem to register anything around him.

2. Ballister listening to very loud freestyle Jazz

So of course it doesn't take Ambrosius very long to drag Ballister away from what he was doing. Nimona is along for the ride and doesn't resist when Ambrosius literally orders her to take them to the hospital as fast as she possibly can.

Meanwhile Ballister wants to convince these two that he is completely fine but makes the mistake to not address the prank.

Ballister: Ambrosius there's really no need for that, I'm fine!

Ambrosius: you were listening to freestyle jazz, have a pink streak in your hair AND didn't react to me and Nimona for full five Minutes!

Ballister: Nimona, will you at least believe me? Ambrosius is not your boss you know?

Nimona: I don't know Boss...How many arms you've got?

Ballister: Two of course. What a question..

Nimona and Ambrosius: *Blankly staring at him*

Ballister: *realising what he said, eyes going wide*

Nimona: *flying faster*

Ambrosius: *pulling Ballister closer promising him that they'll find out what's wrong with him*

Then they crash land in the doctors office. The doctor literally sees that Ballister is fine. But doesn't want to tell that to a panicking Goldenloin and a feral shapeshifter. Therefore they send Ballister an apologetic look before diagnosing him of mental exhaustion and prescribing him a month of rest.

(Basically much needed holidays, after rebuilding an entire kingdom.)

Ambrosius takes Vacation too, because with Ballister being like this he will not take any risks.

Also because he is now the one in charge he will definitely show his newfound lack of impulse control.

*at the grocery store*

Todd: Hey Ballister!

Ambrosius: *shielding Ballister from having to look at him* *growling*

Ballister: *sighting* is that really necessary?

Nimona: No need to look Boss, you're on a well deserved break.

*Ambrosius beating up Todd in the background*

Also a full month of Ambrosius and Nimona full on fussing over Ballister and a lifetime of increased protectiveness so he doesn't ever again get into a state where he hears freestyle jazz.

And Ballister learning to otherwise organising suprises for Ambrosius and of course succeeding.

Also please add something to that post 🙏

[chibikyo]

Day 9 - Sensory Deprivation

Stryker x F!Reader

Reader learns that Stryker would like to cuff her after making a dumb joke. After careful discussion, they explore some new kinks together. I.E. - Stryker puts reader in handcuffs, a blindfold, a gag, and earplugs and sees how many times he can make her cum Warnings; Sensory deprivation, consensual bondage, mentions of safe sex practices, safe sane and consensual, reader almost uses safeword, aftercare, overstimulation

**************

It had started with a joke, something about Stryker using his handcuffs on her, though Y/n couldn’t remember the exact wording. She’d expected him to laugh, but when she’d turned her head there was a deep blush on his face and he had dragged her to their bedroom for some of the best sex they’d had to date. Later, Y/n had asked him if he thought about tying her up, and he’d admitted that he hadn’t considered it before, but he was seriously considering it now.

It had taken a few more weeks for her to actually convince him to try them. They’d discussed limits and safe words and Stryker had insisted on going out to get actual leather cuffs, padded and comfortable so they wouldn’t hurt her. He’d returned with significantly more than just cuffs and had blushingly admitted that he just couldn’t help himself now that the dam had burst open. Y/n carefully went through the purchases, ensuring nothing was outside her comforts, then had insisted Stryker cuff her to their headboard and fuck her into the mattress. 

That had been a few weeks ago. Tonight was their six month anniversary and Stryker had requested something special for the occasion. It wasn't often that he managed to outright ask for what he wanted, but he was getting more comfortable with it and Y/n could admit she was excited for the scene he described. It had taken some planning, ensuring there were ways for her to safeword, but Stryker was good at planning so that was easily remedied.

That is how she found herself cuffed to their head board tonight, reminiscent of that first time, though with a few additions. Stryker had been so gentle as he’d placed each piece of the ensemble, checking in and testing each planned safety. He’d placed the ball gag first, received a thumbs up for his verbal check in. Next came the noise canceling earplugs; two taps with his hand on her ankle got a second thumbs up. The final piece was a silk blindfold, taking away her ability to see him. She’d startled when she felt his warm fingers on her ankle, stroking gently before tapping twice, another thumbs up. She also tested her reach, knocking once on the headboard to ensure she could still do so. She was to tap out S.O.S. to safeword out, though they’d agreed he would stop everything on the first S. She was only to continue tapping as an added safety, in case he missed the three taps.

Already she felt floaty, the only sensation she could feel was the brush of his cargo pants against her leg as she felt him pull away. She tried to call him back, but the ball gag muffled her words to only a few desperate sounds. Anticipation coiled hot in her gut as she waited for what came next. They had discussed things in advance, so she knew what he might or might not do, but not when or what order. Time trickled by, with no sound or sight she couldn’t tell how long it had been yet.

She jerked again when she felt his fingers grip her thigh, lips pressing against her forehead softly. She could feel a vibration against her skin, knew he was likely talking her through things despite the earplugs blocking his voice, and it made her heart flutter with affection for him. He trailed feather light kisses down her skin, each point of contact sending shivers through her. He spent several minutes just sucking little bruises into her neck and shoulders, hands stroking up her arms soothingly. He knew each sensitive spot, lips hitting those areas with a marksman's accuracy, but without her other senses the touch was so much more pronounced, like static electricity as it set her nerves on fire.

She moaned through the gag as he kept going, lips closing over her left nipple so softly she wanted to sob. He suckled lightly, licking and teasing as his other hand came up to mirror what his tongue was doing. He’d loved just how sensitive her breasts were, loved to bite and squish and tease and she was already getting wet from just this. He clearly wasn’t in a hurry, alternating between each breast until she was quivering beneath him, her first orgasm already building steadily within her. She nearly screamed when he attached the first clamp vibrator, the soft buzzing setting the sensitive nerves ablaze. The other one followed a moment later, Stryker squeezing her breast together just to watch them bounce as gentle vibrations pulsed through her.

There was a huff of air against her belly as he moved lower, hands returning to the infuriating light strokes as he kissed a trail down her torso, stopping just above the start of her crease. She felt his hands grip her thighs, easing them open, grounding her with his steady grip. She would have begged if she could, desperate for him to touch her. She jerked when she felt wisp of air on her wet cunt, cooling the slick that had already leaked out. That bastard! She tried to squirm away, but he held her legs tight and then she gasped as he pressed his tongue flat against her clit, lapping at it with slow, deliberate drags of his tongue. 

Stryker held her down through her first orgasm, lapping at the slick that came spilling out of her as she shook and quivered and whined so sweetly behind her gag. He’d threatened more than once that he could spend hours eating her out, and he intended to get at least a second orgasm from her before he moved on to other stimuli. She was beautifully flushed now, nipples puffy and red, her cunt twitching from overstimulation as he pulled back, teasing her clit with the rough pad of his thumb. He nuzzled the soft skin of her thigh reverently.

“Wish you could see how lovely you look, gorgeous.” He whispered, making sure to exhale softly so she’d feel his hot breath on her skin. He gave her a moment to come down, waiting until she was still under his hands, before diving back in for a second round. He groaned as he ate her out, pushed two fingers into her soaking wet hole, suckled her clit knowing it drove her mad. She thrashed, the gasps and moans so wanton they went straight to his cock, hard and aching inside his pants though he ignored it in favor of reaching down to tap her ankle. She stilled, tapped once on the headboard then thumbs up  to ensure he heard and saw her greenlight. Reassured, he dipped back in like a man starved.

‘Oh god! Oh god, I’m gonna cum again! I can’t!’ Y/n thought, gag still preventing any words from escaping as Stryker adjusted the vibrator against her clit, turning it up higher. He had made her cum twice more with his tongue, until she had actually felt tears in her eyes, before he’d reached up to remove the earplugs. She’d whined, grateful for the return of one of her senses, but then he’d started talking and she realized it wasn’t a mercy.

“Such a good little slut for me, gorgeous. Going to make you cum again, honey.” Stryker grunted, his free hand coming up to toy with the nipple clamp. He’d turned the vibrations up on those as well, tugging and groping them every so often causing her to groan and whimper under his torturous hands. “Bet I can really make you scream this time, so loud even that gag won’t muffle the noise. Slut like you probably can’t wait. You’d beg me for it.” It was too much, the constant vibrations, the filthy words, she was going to cum again, her entire cunt aching and swollen and overstimulated. She felt him grasp one of the clamps and clenched as he ripped it free with a sharp, firm tug and she really did scream as her orgasm struck her like a truck, rolling through her and out of her quivering pussy. She felt something gush out as her back arched up from the bed, drenching the sheets beneath them, nearly missing the punched out groan from Stryker as he stroked her thigh.

“Gods, Y/n, you just squirted. Fucking soaked, gorgeous, holy shit.” She felt his tongue against her hole again, lapping up the flood of slick and it was too much, her hand striking the headboard in a single sharp note before she jerked it back. It was enough though, Stryker pulled up, hands reaching out to undo the gag and pull it out. It was soaked in drool and Y/n’s lips were as puffy and red as her nipples when the ball popped free.

“Are you good, Y/n?” Stryker asked, reaching for the blind fold.

“Wait.” Y/n croaked, feeling his hands still. “It was just a lot. Need a minute, but I still want to keep going.” She felt his fingers slip between her, squeezing, lips hot on her own as he kissed her softly. He unhooked the other nipple clamp, turned it off, tossed it over with the other toys. Y/n moaned gratefully.

“When you knocked, I was worried I’d hurt you.” Stryker admitted quietly. “If it’s too much I won’t be upset. This has already been more than I ever expected.” “You were perfect.” Y/n laughed. “Just, can we leave the gag off? Cuffs are fine, blindfold good, but my jaw hurts.”

“Of course, gorgeous.” Stryker kissed her again, chuckled as she chased his lips and they spent a few seconds just making out before Stryker pulled back. “Been wanting to hear you anyway. Miss those sweet little moans and gasps, honey.” She felt him pull away, whining at the sudden lack of contact, and he immediately reached out to stroke her calf. “One second, gorgeous, just gotta get ready for you, okay?”

“Okay. Trust you.” She murmured, letting out a sigh when she felt him climbing back up, positioning himself between her legs. She felt his cock slip between her lower lips, hot and hard and leaking against her puffy clit. He let his cock drag across her entrance a few times, savoring just how wet she still was.

“Gonna fill you up real good, gorgeous.” Stryker groaned, lining the tip up with her entrance and pushing in slowly. She was wet and gaping, the slide easy yet still snug around him as he sank into her to the hilt. She let out a choked off moan, body trembling as he began an easy pace, thrusting leisurely inside her, enjoying the warmth of her walls clinging to him. “Such a well behaved little slut, aren’t you? So eager to be filled up with my cock, huh?” “Kurtis!” She gasped, face flushing deeper as he began to pick up speed, his hands reaching up to play with her abused nipples and savoring how she whimpered with pleasure.

“Tell me you want me to fill you up. You wanted the gag out, so I want to hear you beg me to give you what I know you want.”

“Kurtis please! Want to feel you leaking out of me! Please cum inside me, fill me up with your thick cum!” Y/n begged. She heard him moan, felt his hands on her hips, and then he was fucking her for real. He pushed her legs up and out, pushed in deeper, his thrusts growing harder and faster and hitting so deep inside her. For several long minutes all that could be heard was the slap of skin, the low grunts and groans slipping free from Stryker’s lips, and the desperate pleas from Y/n as she begged for more. “Harder, please, Kurtis, so close! I’m gonna cum, please!”

“That’s it, cum for me, gorgeous! Cum on my cock!” Kurtis groaned, feeling her tremble around him as she came a fifth time. She squeezed him so tight, her muscles spasming as she moaned his name and that was it. He stilled, deep inside her, as he felt his own orgasm crash down around him. He felt his cum filling up the spaces inside her, pushing out around his cock as he pulled out. It dribbled out of her as her cunt fluttered, gaping and red. 

He unhooked her hands, slowly lifted the blindfold off of her, giving her time to adjust to the light. Her cheeks were wet with tears, expression soft and fucked out. He stroked her cheek as he pulled her into his arms, murmured sweet nothings into her ear as he cleaned her up and gave her a few sips of water. She sighed, burrowing into his arms and his warmth with a contented sigh.

“Too much?” Stryker asked, eyes shining with worry. Y/n shook her head.

“Perfect, Kurtis.” She replied. “Everything was perfect. You were perfect.” She emphasized this by sharply poking his chest. He laughed. “Could use a bath, though. Sore.” She added.

“Anything for you, honey.”

[delopsia]

Whispers In The Dark | Bob x Reader x Rhett

Word Count: 8,700  Cross Posted on AO3 Warnings & Notes: 18+, AFAB!Reader, poly relationships, unprotected sex, playful bickering, a dash of hurt comfort, threesomes, oral (reader giving and receiving) Rhett and Bob both going down on you at once, thigh fucking, sex in the back of Rhett's truck, not so subtle plotting, a toy car crash, and some pointless fluff.

Vacation.

As your Google search defines it, a vacation is 'an extended period of leisure and recreation, especially one spent away from home or traveling.' A time to escape from work, enjoy yourself and spend a couple of days forgetting all of your work-related worries. Going to bed and waking up late, exploring the world around you, and buying souvenirs you don't need.

A vacation is not the time or place for waking up by yourself because Royal Abbott cannot stand to let your boyfriends spend the weekend without working them half to death. Nobody wants to hear a mid-fifties woman ask if you're sure the clothes you're wearing are appropriate for men to see you in. And as much as you love Amy, nobody wants to spend their vacation babysitting her while her father and grandparents fuck off to God knows where.

With a melodic tune, your phone lights up. Natasha's name flickers across the screen. You're better off getting a hotel up by Grand Teton like you were originally planning.  

Even as your fingers dance across the screen, typing out a response, you can't figure out how you wound up here. Visiting Rhett's parents and picking up the last of his belongings was only meant to be an overnight thing. But Royal had a ranch hand quit, and so Bob and Rhett agreed to stay and help for one day.

You've been here for fucking three, going on four. Leaving a little over a week to maybe visit Grand Teton, like you've been planning for the past six months. It's hard to get Bob away from the Navy for a weekend, never mind two whole weeks. You and Rhett had to fight with your workplaces to get the green light, and now, all of that effort has added up to this.

A big waste of fucking time. 

I'd hate to ask them to leave if they're not ready to go themselves. The pleasant send-tone is drowned out by Cecelia's raised, shrill voice echoing up the stairs. Quickly blanketed by Royal's heavier one, booming throughout the hallways, rattling the doors. Another day, another argument. 

You nearly miss the next notification tone. Too busy shoving your head beneath what smells like Rhett's pillow. The next time you visit the Abbott ranch, you're bringing earplugs. You say this as if Bob hasn't yabbered my ear off about Grand 'Talon' for the past six months.  

The doorframe trembles as Royal's voice tears through the silence. Always one to remind you of where you are. Sincerely, you hope he permanently loses his voice.

Rolling to face the wall, you pull the covers up a little higher, burying your face beneath them. Rhett and Bob should have been back by now, but as the room grows darker, you wonder if they're going to come back at all. Maybe Royal's already worked them to death in the fields. 

At least these sheets smell like them. Rhett's soft, woodsy musk and remnants of Bob's warm, expensive cologne clinging to the fabric. But the bed's not as warm as it usually is with them in it; there aren't a myriad of arms and legs tangled with yours. Bob's cold nose isn't pressed into the crook of your neck; Rhett's cheek isn't smushed against your forehead. 

These sheets can only do so much.

You can almost feel Bob's arms winding around your waist, strong and confident as they secure you to his chest, nuzzling his face wherever he can comfortably fit. But that puff of breath against your sensitive neck...

feels a little too real.

"'s just me, sweetie," Bob murmurs, winding his arm around you. Deft fingers curl between your waist and the mattress, pulling your back flush to his chest. You don't remember feeling the bed dip or the old oak door squeal open, but he's here. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Completely bypassing the customary 'are you okay's and 'how are you feeling?'s. If there's one thing about Robert Floyd, it's that he doesn't see the point in asking pointless questions that only eat up time. 

"I don't know," squirming until your legs can comfortably tangle with his, still damp from a shower. How long has he been back?

The bedroom door squeaks, and those heavy footsteps that follow can only belong to one person. "What's goin' on?" Drawers slide open and closed; the metal handles rattling against the old painted wood. 

"Somethin's got our baby upset," vaguely, you can feel Bob tilting his head to look behind himself, the lack of warm breath against your neck leaving your skin unusually cold. 

Abruptly, a drawer shuts, the floor creaking as Rhett comes over to the bed. It's the first time you've seen him all day, wearing nothing but a pair of old jeans; water drips from the curls peeking out from beneath his ears, fresh out of the shower. 

The mattress sinks as he crawls up to join you, settling between you and the wall. His lips find your forehead in silent hello. Chapped and bitten, an old habit that rears its ugly head every time he comes back here. Words are hard to come by; the room so quiet that you can hear when Rhett scratches at his jaw, disturbing the stubble there.

"Can we...?" you wish Rhett were closer, so you could hide your face in his chest while you speak. "...maybe not spend our entire vacation here?" 

"Baby, we never canceled our plans," Bob's voice vibrates against your spine, rattling all the way down to the tips of your toes, "what made you think we weren't going?" 

"Well, we haven't exactly stuck to our original plans," it comes out a little rushed. Like you only have a few fleeting moments to say what you want, "and now I've hardly seen you two for the past...what? Two? Three days?"

Rhett's eyes flicker, looking toward Bob; you can only assume it's a shared look because you can't exactly turn to see for yourself. The corners of his lips downturn, "I'm sorry," and you can practically feel the frown when he kisses your forehead again, "we can still go, yeah?" 

The end of that is more directed toward Bob than it is toward you. Visible in how he slightly lifts his head to look at the man curled against your back. All of a sudden, Bob's letting go of you, bare feet audibly hitting the floor. 

"The hell you doin'?" Eyebrows knitting together, Rhett sits up a bit, prompting you to roll onto your back to see what's going on with your own eyes. 

You hadn't been expecting to lay eyes on Bob's boxer-clad ass, but who are you to complain?

"Looking for this...ah," he produces a laptop from the suitcase he's rummaging through, tucked safely between the neatly folded clothes. One of these days, you and Rhett really need to talk him into getting a proper computer bag. 

It's open before he's even sat down again, the fan roaring to life so loudly that you think it may take flight. A stray arm ventures out across your belly, securing itself around you as Rhett squirms closer until his cheekbone is pressed against your shoulder. 

"Grand Talon, right?" You're glad Bob's double-checking because something is amiss here. 

"Teton," there's a strain in Rhett's tone, carrying the burden of months worth of gentle corrections that never stick. You're starting to think that it could be a great excuse to buy trinkets you don't need and place them around Bob's little office space. 

Give it five minutes, and he'll start calling it Talon again.

Fingers dance across the keys, a blur right before your very eyes. Pausing for the piss poor Abbott wifi to work, tapping impatiently on the edge of the screen. The screen changes. Click. Tapping again.

"Is the internet that bad?" You ask with a yawn. To be fair, you've yet to try asking Cecelia for the password; mobile data has been enough to get you by as of late. 

"I get better reception when I'm a couple thousand feet in the air," as he says that, the page loads in. 

With prior context, you already assumed he was doing something related to your original trip, but you're still surprised to see that familiar lodge homepage. The same one you've looked at so, so many times over the past few months. All three of you are supposed to have been there by now; you should be laid up on an unfamiliar mattress, wasting time. 

But here you are, laying in Rhett's barely functioning childhood bed, listening to Royal and Cecelia's argument burn out. 

"Do you think we could make it if I got a last-minute room for tomorrow?" Eyes never leaving the screen, darting back and forth.

Rhett yawns, breath tickling your shoulder, "if it's as close as I remember it bein', then yeah."

Click.

Click click. Screen flash. Lightning-quick typing. 

Click.

Click click. A grin wires its way across Bob's face as he turns the laptop to face you. 

He's placed a room reservation for tomorrow. 

"Not sure how thrilled Cecelia's fixin' to be," he chirps, turning it back toward himself, "pretty sure she was makin' plans for us." 

"Yeah, well, I'll tell her it's because her lounge pants were too scandalous," curse your quick tongue and its innate ability to spit words out before you're sure if you should say them.

Rhett sits up. Bob grabs him by the hair. 

"I told you I heard her makin' them goddamn remarks again," Rhett hisses through clenched teeth, squirming as he's led back onto the mattress. It never fails to amaze you how easy it is to control him once you've got a hand in those pretty curls. 

"And the last thing our baby probably wants to hear right now," cautiously, Bob releases him, "is another argument." 

Melodramatic, Rhett huffs, but he doesn't make to move again. A storm brews behind those dark blue eyes, raging seas that threaten to drown you if you peer into them for too long. The same cannot be said for Bob, always has been better at controlling those eyes of his. But his clenched jaw gives him away, that small, telltale vein in his neck bulging. 

"You're horrible at hiding that vein." Leave it to Rhett to leave it up.

"At least I don't look like I'm about to commit a homicide."

For a moment, you're afraid Rhett's going to jump clear across you and tackle him to the ground like he has so many times. You don't need any magical ability to know that's exactly what's flickering through his mind.

"Now that I've dug myself a grave," turning his affections towards you, Bob reaches out to graze his knuckles against your temple, gently stroking, "what do you two say we get out of here for a little while?"

You're unsure of what he means by that, but you nod anyway, "where are we going?"

"Walmart," together, in perfect unison.

They've been planning this. 

A trip to fucking Walmart.

"Bunch of small-town losers, the whole lot of you," but even with your half-hearted complaint, you find yourself getting out of bed to pull on some clothes. 

It's not necessarily cold out, Wabang is quite comfortable on summer nights like these, but you still reach out and steal Rhett's big, comfy black hoodie that's been sitting on your suitcase. 

Bob's eyes flicker with the slightest complaint. 

Rhett reaches over and snatches that US Navy jacket from him. The black zip-up, with 'Navy' written across the left arm in big white letters. "Problem solved," absolutely beaming as he wriggles into it. 

"You two are something else," but there's a fond smile on Bob's face as he slips his glasses on, careful to mind the lenses. 

Out in the hallway, you're met with a blanket of darkness that never seems to end. Rhett steps past you, taking your hand on his way, and with remarkable ease, guides you through it. You're not sure where you're going, but it's easy to fall in tandem with his step. A soft left and you're looking at the staircase.

On the living room couch, Royal's completely knocked out. Snoring, still dressed, his hat laying discarded on the floor. Laying the wrong way, the brim flat on the floor threatens to warp its shape, but Rhett makes no move to fix it, so neither will you. 

Keys jingle. Bob opens his mouth.

"Absolutely not," Rhett's quicker. "You drive like an old lady." 

His old ranch truck looks so out of place compared to Bob's. That little old '01 GMC Sierra looks cute until it's placed right next to a monster of a Toyota Tundra. It's going to look even stranger next to Rhett's current vehicle once you get it back home. 

"I've missed this old thing," its scrap value probably isn't worth the gas and time it took to drive here, but you can hardly complain. The cowboy practically has heart eyes as he clambers into that old driver's seat. 

"I'm convinced you'd marry this truck before you marry us," you can't help but tease as you settle into the middle. Bench seats need to make a comeback, so couples like you can equally sit up front and not fuss over who winds up in the back. 

The engine roars to life just as any other vehicle would, refusing to show her true age. "Those rich assholes won't even let me marry both of you," that big hand of his lands on your knee, squeezing it. Like clockwork, Bob's hand lands on your other one, doing much of the same.

Always evening things out. 

You don't remember there being a Walmart nearby, but in the year since you've last been to Wabang, they've built one along the outskirts of town. Bordering a flourishing uppity town that's been getting a lot of business due to a newly constructed highway. 

It's strange to see so many cars over here; nice ones too. Modern vehicles that look like they couldn't be more than five years old, big, glistening trucks that Rhett so lovingly refers to as Pavement Princesses. For it being ten o'clock at night, this store is pretty busy. 

"Both of you," already, you know what Bob's about to ask; hasn't even let you fully get out of the truck yet. "Hands. Now."

You're rolling your eyes, but you hold your hand out for him to take anyway. Rhett, however, fusses like a small child, whining as Bob laces their fingers together.

"Why do you do this to me?" He grumbles, but there's a smile fighting its way across his pouting lips. 

"Because keepin' you two together in a store is like herdin' cats," you hate that he's got a point. Store runs have been nothing but chaotic until Bob practically started leashing you.

Someone inevitably wanders off for one thing and gets distracted. Someone else picks up the things you need by memory, only to learn that they've already been put in the cart. Someone, cough, Bob, winds up with the list, wondering where the hell you and Rhett went. 

The hand-holding only lasts so long. Carts are always necessary with these two men, and like a pair of kids, you've got to have a hand on it at all times. 

"I don't wander," Rhett grumbles, and you can already see his eyes skittering about the signs, looking for his favorite aisle. 

You'd beg to differ. "We've found you in the toy section three trips in a row."

Admittedly, Bob's not much better. Their mutual toy car collection is truly something else, with Bob's Matchboxes and Rhett's Hot Wheels. Almost every store visit ends in a new member being added to the family. Nerds.

"Can I convince you two to get snacks first?" You can see the chip aisle from where you're standing, and you can hardly tear your eyes off it. Something, anything, sounds good compared to Cecelia's stale veggie straws and off-brand cheese crackers. 

Two pairs of blue eyes land on you.

And they're both silently telling you 'yes.'

These aisles are massive, never seeming to end, even when you're standing dead in the center of them. You don't recall the last time you've seen this many variations of chips, spicy, extra spicy, toasted, odd flavor combinations that no sane man comes up with. Bob's already found his beloved barbeque chips, Rhett's...staring at Bob, eyebrows knitted. Flicking over to you, then back to him.

All these variations, and yet no matter where you look, you can't find your favorite. They're not where you'd usually expect them to be; they should be at the very end, alongside the rest of the brand. What if...

oh.

There's a slot for them on the bottom shelf. Completely empty. 

"Of course," leave it to you to want the one thing they don't—

"You know," Bob's staring at the cart, expressionless, "I have no memory of doin' it, but evidently, I picked you up a bag and put it in here already."

Because there they are. Evidently, the last bag and Bob's impulsively grabbed them for you without thinking twice. 

"Y'have a hell of an autopilot system, Playboy," Rhett's absolutely grinning as that nickname rolls off his tongue; he's finally picked what he wants. Jalapeño Cheetos. Go figure. It was either that or pork rinds. 

"I am beggin' you to quit callin' me that."

"Then you best get on your knees because you're doing a shit job at beggin' so far." 

You really, truly, cannot take them anywhere. 

The toy aisle is where you assume you'll go next, but they completely bypass it. You're all talking, commenting on the different things you pass by; Rhett lays eyes on toddler cowboy boots and absolutely loses his mind over the size difference, but neither of them explains where they're off to. They see the aisles, you know they do because Bob comments on the silly shelf of plushies called Living On The Veg, but they don't stop. 

And the only place they seem to be headed is toward...camping gear?

"What are we doing?" Context clues aren't enough; you can't figure this one out.

"Looking for an air mattress," Bob says as if it's plain as day; why wouldn't they be looking for an air mattress? 

...did he book a hotel or a camping ground?

Rhett's several steps ahead of you, already halfway down the aisle, by the time you step foot into it. Arms folded across his chest, peering up at the top shelf. Eyes scanning, searching, knows exactly what he's looking for, just doesn't know where it is.

"Found it," standing on his tip-toes, he takes down a box you hadn't initially noticed. 

An air mattress designed for truck beds. 

"Am I missing something?" You don't...what?

And this time, when two sets of blue eyes, one pair a sweet baby blue, the other so dark that they look black, it hits you.

They're planning something.

"This feels like a plot to kill me."

"It is."

"It's not," Rhett groans, running his hands through his hair, "what about watching the stars in the bed of my truck screams 'I'm going to kill you tonight' anyway?"

Bob's chuckling is the only thing sound you can hear in this quiet, neglected little field. You suppose Rhett was the only one who cared for this part of the pasture because it doesn't look like anyone's touched it since he moved out. Wild shrubs, briar patches that you've narrowly avoided stepping in. 

"Without context, you two taking me out into a field at midnight, and insisting I get on an air mattress that you shoved in your truck bed, is a little strange," but while you speak, you're trying to figure out how the hell to get up here.

Rhett hopped up just fine, but you're not sure how to make the jump. 

"Hold on, hold on," Bob's glasses fall low on his nose as he bends down to pick you up, "I've got you, sweetie."

No matter how many times they do it, it still feels strange to be swept off your feet as if you weigh nothing. He places you right on top of the air mattress, careful eyes watching as you squirm up to sit next to Rhett. As soon as you're settled, he hops up, moving with such ease. Muscles flexing with the effort, the veins in his hands so fucking prominent that you might start drooling like a dog. 

"How long have you two been planning this?" The back of the truck is hard against your back, the window pane digging into your shoulders, but you don't have a single complaint. You physically can't, not with them snuggling up to you the way they are. Rhett's head coming down to rest against yours, Bob's arm sliding around your shoulders. 

"Since we got here," Bob's confession is so faint that it's nearly lost in the breeze. 

Rhett's head tilts, eyelashes fluttering against your cheek. "Y'get a lot of time to brainstorm in these fields." 

Funny, it's been hard to hold a single train of thought cooped up in the old Abbott home. Someone's always needing a favor, Cecelia's constantly got things to say, and you've got to hear those things whether you like it or not. 

"I think they offered to give Rhett his truck back so they could get free labor out of us," there's more Bob's trying to say, but his sentence is punctured by a yawn that he can't talk through. Jaw nearly unhinging, eyes scrunching shut; you've no recollection of when his hand wound up on your knee, but it loosens, falling further between your legs. 

Involuntarily, you shiver.

"Someone's sensitive," Rhett muses; his eyes flicker up to you, watching carefully as a devilish hand slips between your legs. Even with pants on, you can feel it clear as day; the heat radiating off their big palms like two blazing infernos. 

"Subtle," you grumble, "real subtle."

But again, it's impossible to truly complain. because Bob's pressing a kiss to your cheek, sleepy-eyed and so utterly fond. As soon as you've turned your head, he's dipping down and stealing a proper one from your lips. Once, twice, until he's hooked, can't bring himself to draw away for a third time. 

It's only been an hour since the last time he kissed you, but it feels like it's been centuries since the last time you felt these soft lips dance with your own. So long since the last time you've found the taste of that peppermint chapstick on your tongue. Can't remember the last time you've felt the cold metal of his wire frames bump into your cheek.

A second pair of lips brush at your exposed neck, familiar stubble tickling you, sending you gasping. Such a faint noise that shouldn't be audible, but Rhett's chuckle tells you otherwise, brushing his scruffy jaw against your skin just to get another rise out of you. 

Blindly, you feel around, searching for and tangling your fingers in those messy curls. Merely serves as an incentive for him to move closer, swinging his leg over to straddle your thigh as he nibbles at the soft spot just below your ear. A burning tongue soothes over it when he's done, making you squirm, unintentionally pushing up into his groin.

"Oh."

Such a sudden little noise has you and Bob breaking away, mouths agape as you turn your attention to the cowboy perched on your thigh. You've made a mess of his hair. What usually stays tucked behind his ears now cascades against his cheeks. 

He's yet to notice that you're looking at him, eyes closed, lips agape as he tentatively grinds against your leg, eager for some sort of contact. Even as you lean forward, he doesn't notice. Not until your lips are brushing against his, and those eyes flutter open for a fleeting moment, snapping shut once more when you close the gap.

"Didn't expect for you to be the first one to crack, shug," there's a soft clack as Bob sets his glasses down on the roof of the truck, the only place they're safe from being smushed. 

There's the faintest of grunts against your lips, Rhett's determination to express his annoyance easily overtaken by the sudden attention he's being given. Nose bumping into yours as you lazily tangle together, kiss after kiss, never lasting longer than a few seconds before a new one is started. 

Curious, your hand wanders up to feel how much he's worked himself up. Only expecting to find him semi-hard, but he's solid as a rock under your palm, eagerly pushing up into it. "Jesus, Rhett."

"Don't 'Jesus, Rhett', me," he fusses, jolting as you squeeze the outline of him through his jeans, "maybe you two have been fine, but I've been hard all fuckin' week." 

You truly believe that if there were an actual scale to measure sex drives, Rhett would break it every time.

Such an unfortunate thing for him, but fuck if a few days without getting off doesn't make him the most pliant thing you've ever seen. It's so easy to push him back until he's off your leg and you're able to sit up on your knees properly. There's only a small gap between your back and the truck window, but Bob fits into it just fine, his arms winding around your waist. 

One wandering hand cups you between your legs, and all of a sudden, you're the one who's gasping. 

You're thankful Rhett's not wearing a belt for once, makes it so much easier for you to pop open his button and yank down the zipper. And he's falling right into your open hand, nothing else there to restain that heavy, dripping cock of his. 

"Didn't," licking his lips, "didn't intend to wear those jeans for more than a few minutes."

There's an uncomfortable coldness as Bob takes his hand away from you, bringing his hand up to Rhett's agape mouth and hooking a thumb inside. You're sure Rhett would gripe about it if not for the visible pressure being applied to his tongue. 

Just as he's closing his lips around it, Bob's pulling away, skin absolutely glistening with saliva. Reaches right down to encase your hand that's already wrapped around Rhett's cock. Wickedly, that wet thumb finds his sensitive, plush head and starts to rub circles into it. 

Rhett's mouth opens with a surprised gasp. Not a sound comes out at first.

And then you find yourself blessed with the sweetest, whiniest wail you've ever heard from him. Left leg thumping against the air mattress as Bob draws spiral after spiral. It's been a while since the last time you've seen his head tilt back like that, so overwhelmed that his eyes have bolted shut, can do nothing more than take it.

Shaky hands reach down, batting all of your offending hands away."Mean." There's no venom to it. He tries, but there's none there to give.

"Like a damn faucet," only when Bob mentions it do you realize that his thumb is absolutely soaked. Only able to look at it for so long because now, that same hand is pushing past your waistband. Dripping, pre-cum covered thumb to your clit. 

Slower than how he assaulted Rhett, but those short, tight spirals against that swollen little bud are downright menacing. 

"Absolutely fucking mean," you find yourself grumbling, "God, shit, Bob!" Squeezing your legs together does nothing.

"What?" Chill as a fucking cucumber. 

You don't realize you're making noise until Rhett's quieting you with his mouth, swallowing down those faint sounds that ripple out of your throat. Impossible to stifle, always finding a way to slip past your futile resistance. Your hips are squirming on their own accord, but you can't make Bob move a damn millimeter. 

Circle after tantalizing circle, unrelenting. You've still got your pants on, and he's already playing one of his best cards.

"Stop, stop," and he comes to a screeching halt; even Rhett freezes. You are going to lose your goddamn mind, need a moment to catch your breath. "Not like this."

"No?" Bob's composure may be perfectly maintained, but no amount of self-control can hide the hardness resting against the curve of your ass, twitching when you grind against it, "you wantin' somethin' else?"

"Want more," cut short by a curious, momentary pressure on your clit, "at least get my pants off first."

Fingers hook into the brim of your pants before you're even done talking. You have to get off your knees in order for Rhett to slide the garment past; he goes to toss them, but Bob catches them, neatly folding them. Midway through tucking them off to the side, he freezes, whites of his eyes flashing. 

"Fuck, of all the days that you could be wearin' those panties," and it takes you until the end of the sentence to realize that Rhett's lips aren't moving.

You hadn't thought much about it when you put them on, but now that you think about it, you remember that they're Bob's favorite. Pale pink, with little white polka dots and the tiniest of bows at the top. Rhett bought them for you at random a few months ago, and you fear a second pair may be enough to give Bob a heart attack.

"Swearin' sounds good on you," Rhett teases, "Playboy."

What you don't expect is for both of them to make a move to get between your legs. Rhett on your left, Bob on your right, both equally surprised by the actions of the other. Neither yields. 

Two pairs of eyes ask you to cast the winning vote.

"I..." you're grasping for straws here. Bob is the one who ate you out last, but he keeps looking down at your panties, where his hand is toying with that little bow. But Rhett's practically drooling like a dog, merely held back by a thin, invisible leash that could snap at any time.

Fuck, how are you meant to decide when they're looking up at you like that? Pleading, hopeful, like you've just hung the moon and the stars in the sky, and they want you to hang their paper stars up too. 

"I can't decide." 

They look at each other. Words are shared, but their mouths never open. 

Then, slowly, as if a sudden movement too fast will shatter the moment, they lean down. A pair of lips find each thigh. One is soft and leaves faint, peppermint-flavored imprints, the other chapped, the cracked skin tickling your sensitive thigh.

Your back smacks into the sharp edge of the truck. It should hurt, there'll likely be a bruise in the morning, but you can't feel a goddamn thing. All you know is that kisses slowly trail up your overwhelmed thighs, leaving little marks behind to keep them from getting lost in you. 

That is...

that sight is fucking something.

They hardly fit; the higher they reach, the closer they have to squirm. By the time their combined breath tickles you through that thin polka-dot fabric, they've got hardly any room. Cheeks squished together, Bob's unable to fight his dopey grin, and it's leaking over onto Rhett. 

It's Bob who moves forward, dragging his hot tongue up the fabric that separates him from you, but only once. Impatience seeps through the seams as he pulls them to the side, tentatively kitten-licking your clit. 

Rhett's staring him down. He's aware of it, peeking off to the side. As if one more lick is going to result in a surprise wrestling match right here and now. When Rhett doesn't move, those eyes finally close, at peace enough to use the rest of his tongue. Broad, flat strokes that leave you wanting more, to reach down, grab him by the hair, keep him right there.

Slow as molasses, Rhett leans down and attaches his lips to Bob's vulnerable neck, sparking a little, surprised whimper. You can't see it, but the tremble in Bob's tongue tells you that Rhett's sucking on the little vein that pokes out behind his ear, the sensitive one that always begs to be left littered with marks. 

One, two, three audible kisses are pressed to it before Bob twitches away from you with a gasp. 

They switch.

Where Bob was careful, Rhett's absolutely fucking messy. Sloppily lapping at your quivering entrance, his tongue is short, but he fucks it into you anyhow, giving you something to clench around. From that alone, he's panting as hard as you are, drenching you in his hot breath when he works himself up to give your swollen little bud some attention too.

His focus gives Bob the opportunity to return the favor. But even when he has reason to assault those weak points where Rhett's collarbone meets his neck, he doesn't. Instead, pressing soft kisses that lead from beneath his ear down to the juncture of his neck. Gentle, offering warning before he starts to shower that lovely, scar-mottled collarbone with attention. 

Rhett's eyes flicker up at you, fluttering. You don't know if it's from his desire to eat you out or the love being peppered into his neck, but he's absolutely drooling into your pussy. Saliva runs down his chin, each swirl of his tongue around your clit marked by a faint wet noise. Enough for Bob to collect on his fingers, using it as a lubricant when he eases a finger into you. 

"Fuck," is that you who's talking? It sure doesn't sound like it. "You two are something else." The synchrony of amused chuckles you receive is pretty enough to count as a melody. 

Bob's fingers are thicker than Rhett's; you can already feel the stretch as a second one eases inside. You don't know what you did, but Bob's already sensed that slight discomfort. Distraction comes in the form of a familiar 'come hither' motion, massaging a familiar bundle of nerves that sends you jolting up into Rhett's mouth. 

"Please hurry up," on a normal day, you'd beat around the bush about it, but the heat blossoming between your legs is enough to have you bypass that completely. "Please, before I lose my ever-loving mind."

Rhett pulls away and reaches into his back pocket, revealing a quarter. Had that been there this whole time? Not that you're complaining, but couldn't he have flipped that damn thing before?

He flips it with his thumb, the small piece of metal dancing through the air, then dropping onto your unsuspecting belly with a soft thunk.

Tails. 

On reflex, Bob falls to his haunches, sending you and Rhett bouncing. Damn air mattress. "'ve got condoms in the—"

"Don't need 'em," Rhett's already got his shirt halfway over his head, revealing that wonderfully sculpted chest built from years of hard, manual labor on the ranch. He pauses and looks up at you, having spoken too fast; you shake your head no. 

Bob's the one to tug your panties down, careful to place them somewhere safe. Somewhere between that and you rolling over onto your belly, you catch the faint murmur beneath his breath, "uncouth." 

"I don't know what that means," Rhett hums, tracing his blunt nails up your ass, "so it can't hurt me."

"You two are going to be bickering, even when we're six feet under in our separate graves, aren't you?" When you went into this, you knew what you were walking into, but even now, you're amazed that they manage to keep it up. Even as Rhett's cock is gently slapping against your wet cunt, seconds away from opening you up with it.

"I'll make sure you get buried with earplugs," Bob says as he settles between you and the truck's rear window. An awkward squeeze at first, but once you're situated, it's perfect. His lap perfectly comfortable to rest your head in, barely concealed bulge right there for you to run your palm over. 

A retort burns on your tongue, but it slips away when you feel a plush cockhead press into you. The stretch normally burns a bit without lubricant; Rhett's too goddamn thick for his own good, but your wetness is already drenched in his saliva, makes the initial slide easy. Manages to sink a good inch or two inside before you feel that uncomfortable stretch again. 

"Bobby—"

"Catch," Bob's already heard, understood, and acted before Rhett's gotten more than a word out. A packet audibly tears as he pulls out of you, audibly slicking himself before sliding right back in. 

Rhett's nails trace up your spine, tickling. "Better?" 

"Better," you breathe.

It's hard to think as he eases into you, inch by slow, careful inch, splitting you wide. Can hardly focus on popping open the button on Bob's jeans, and how the hell are you meant to? Rhett knows the angle his hips need to be at in order to hit all those nerves on his first pass in, distracting you with idle tracings of invisible shapes. 

"Here, sweetie," Bob's even gentle when he bats your fumbling hands away. He's quick to undo his jeans, never one to insist that you give him attention while Rhett's fucking you, but always willing to let you if that's what you want. 

And here you think Rhett's the monster of the relationship. 

It never truly hits you until you watch him slide out from his confines. How long it takes him to get all the way out. You'd swear at the sight, but you're distracted by the comforting sensation of Rhett's hips coming flush with yours, bottoming out.

Rhett whistles, "and here you two say I'm the pain in the ass."

Your hand looks remarkably tiny as you take hold of him, incapable of standing up to all nine inches of him. His usually light-pink tip is now an angry red, completely neglected up until now. Bob's pleased grunt is lost to your own gasp, taken aback by the teasing thrust into you. 

"Rhett," your warning is anything but.

"'m sorry," another short thrust, hardly enough for it to count as one, but the strokes gradually become longer and longer, "strugglin' to hold myself back with this little pussy of yours."

Lubricant dribbles over your hand, Bob gently taking hold of it to guide up and down his length, coating himself. Where the slightest breeze has Rhett dripping precum like a leaky faucet, Robert needs a little outside assistance, or else he'll rub himself raw. 

Rhett's hands slide across your hips, taking hold of them; your only warning before he really draws back. It's still not enough to count as a long stroke, but it has you whimpering anyway. So thick that he drags against that bundle of nerves without any effort at all.

"So good for me," he groans, already pulling back again, "y'gonna take care of Robby while I fuck your little pussy, hm?" 

His sentence is punctuated by a hard thrust, sending you jumping forward, the sound of your skin smacking echoing through this deserted field. Your cheek presses against Bob's lower belly, mouth opening to suckle at his head, whimpering around him. Every thrust has the truck rocking, sending you fluttering around Rhett's cock like a goddamn butterfly. 

"Jesus," grunting above you, Bob curls his hand around the back of your head, holding onto you, "usin' me like a damn—hah! Pacifier." 

Rhett's working up a rhythm, and it's the worst possible one he could be going for. Each snap of his hips punches a noise out of your throat, hips angled to drag his thick, dripping head against the gooey spot inside your cunt, never once letting it escape the attention. Fuck, fuck, fuck, you can't think straight.

The hands gripping your hips leave you no room to squirm or writhe; you've no choice but to arch your back and take what he gives you. Can feel the truck moving with each heavy thrust into your dripping pussy, unrelenting. Stimulating that sweet spot of yours like it's his fucking job, offers you no time to recover.

"This what you needed, hm?" He grunts, swallowing down a uniquely pitchy groan, "you been missin' gettin' filled up by us?"

Your only response is to hum around Bob's cock, trying your damnest to properly suck him off, tongue caressing the underside, cheeks hollowing. Labored breathing through your nose with every inward thrust because there's not enough room in you for air and both of their cocks. 

"Just like that, sweetie," Bob's voice is raspy, unnaturally so, "shit, baby, just like that."

Rhett drops down to curl his big body around yours, muscled chest against your back, cheek resting on your shoulder. One arm wraps around you, the other dipping down between your legs, calloused fingers finding your neglected clit. So sensitive that you quiver around him, eliciting a gruff noise that vibrates around your ear. 

"'m gonna cum in you, doll," that's not a warning; it's a promise, "fill you up until you're nice 'n full, then let Robby have his way with your poor little cunt." 

The length in your mouth twitches, breaking your suction. You fear that even the neighbors down the road can hear that loud, filthy 'pop.'

"That what you want?" Pressing kisses into your cheek, Rhett just keeps talking, "hm? Want us to ruin you until you need us to carry you 'round all day tomorrow?" And fuck if that doesn't have you clamping down around him like a damn vice, downright ripping that gasp out of him.

You don't know when you started reaching down, but your hand never gets to reach Rhett's and urge it faster because he's already quickening to match his pace. Short, quick strokes that have your brain rattling around in your skull, mouth popping off of Bob to gasp for air. 

Bob's gathering you up, urging you to bury your face in his soft belly and just cling to him, "c'mon baby, c'mon," and you don't know which of you he's talking to, but there's something snowballing between your legs. Tight, boiling hot.

You're muttering a name, can't quite tell if you're saying Rhett or Robby, maybe both, but you're chanting without thought. A fog settles into your head as you feel yourself start to tighten, that boiling heat washing over everything around you. 

Rhett's getting twitchy, ruining his rhythm in such a way that you whimper into Bob's stomach, almost there, almost there, almost there. "Come on, doll," his voice strained, hips stuttering, "cum on my cock for me."

It hits you so hard that it takes you a moment to catch up, hearing Rhett's pleasured gasp and Bob's sweet coo before you feel it. Body going taut as you cum around that still-thrusting cock, vision blurring as everything goes warm and fuzzy. Rhett's hips are stalling, and you can't comprehend why until you feel that first hot gush of cum flooding your swollen cunt. Filling you up until you're sure it's leaking out. 

 Your high fades, leaving you limp against this air mattress, lungs burning for a full breath of air, but unable to lift your head out of Bob's warm body. Hands stroke the back of your head, kisses are peppered over your back. Who's doing what and where is anyone's guess.

"You alright?" Is that Bob? Rhett? 

Weakly, you nod. Hands find your hips, working together to roll you onto your back again. There's an ache you didn't know you had, brought on by the angle Rhett once had you in, soothed by the comfortable air mattress beneath you. 

Bob's hard length catches your eye. Too heavy to stand up, instead resting against his hip, right there for you to reach out and stroke. 

"Y'don't gotta do that, sweetie," he chuckles, but he twitches in your hand all the same.

You need a moment to find your voice, "want you to cum." 

"You heard the little lady," there's Rhett, crawling up to lay next to you, "c'mon, want you to cum too."

Bob hesitates, but slowly, he begins to move. When he settles between your legs, you expect him to immediately guide himself to your dripping, full entrance, but he doesn't. No, instead, he smacks his cock against your spent pussy, entranced by the sight.

"Really did a number on the poor thing," he muses, pushing some of Rhett's cum back into you with his thumb. 

His blunt head pushes into you, opening you up just enough to take the tip of him. On their own, your legs wrap around him, semi-distracted by Rhett's hand that wanders under the hoodie covering your belly. Doing nothing more than massaging, just needs something to do while he snuggles up to you. 

"I've half the mind to make you cum 'round me too," Bob's reaching down to take hold of your thighs, pushing them up until they're flush together, "but I wanna do that tomorrow when we have a nice hotel bed that I don't gotta worry 'bout poppin'."

You don't know what he's doing, and you're about to ask why he's pulling out of you, but then you feel it. A nudge between your thighs, cock sliding between them. 

Oh.

There's something about the way his cock peeks through your thighs that has your head falling against the mattress, dizzy at the sight. Full, heavy balls smack against your dripping entrance with every downward motion, the slight stimulation enough to make you jolt each time. The thick underside of his cock slips between your sensitive folds, opening you back up as he makes a mess of you. 

Saliva, your own juices, Rhett's cum, leftover lubricant, there's so much there that every motion sounds downright filthy, wet. Creating a dizzying, creamy mess between your legs as he carefully fucks your thighs. 

"That too much, honey?" Fuck, why does he have to only call you honey when he's got his dick between your legs, "hm?"

"Feels good," your thighs are going to be so sensitive after this; it'll be a wonder if you can walk up the stairs when you get back.

His thrusts are calculated, smooth as silk as he fucks your poor thighs, cockhead kissing your pussy on each inward pass. Behind his head, the midnight stars sparkle, the perfect backdrop to his messy hair and pink cheeks, eyes clouded as they stare at the sight beneath him. Your pretty face, his cock disappearing between your quivering thighs.

Rhett's lips ghost the shell of your ear, "try squeezin' him a little tighter."

That's exactly what you do. 

The pitchy whine you're rewarded with is angelic, "fuck, sweetie, please keep doin' that."

His hips are beginning to quicken, pumping in and out, rubbing against your sensitive, exhausted cunt. Spent, all there for him to use to get himself off. Smooth thrusts begin to break down, jerky, quickening, chasing a high that you can feel radiating off of him. 

"Come on, Robby," you coax him, reaching out to hold one of the hands gripping your legs, "please cum for me." 

Those twitches are starting up, sudden, quick little involuntary movements of his cock. Pearly white teeth dig into his thin bottom lip, but they fail to stifle the pretty noises you're squeezing out of him. Breathy and needy, you could listen to them every day for the rest of your life. 

Rhett moves his head to rest on the edge of your shoulder, "that's it, Bobby," he coos. One of his hands reaches down between your legs, letting that sensitive cockhead bump into his palm with every thrust, "cum."

And then you hear it, the faintest little "fuck," before he switches angles and presses his twitching mushroom head against your clit. The first rope of cum has you jumping, surprised by the contact. Overflowing, dripping down between your legs like a waterfall. 

You wish your phone was near, so you could have a picture of Bob's blissful face, features so, so relaxed as his orgasm washes through his exhausted body. 

"All over my damn hand," Rhett fusses, but that's easily fixed by running his tongue along his palm, cleaning up the mess made. 

Slow, Bob pulls himself out of your thighs, letting them fall back open. 

You're going to need a long bath to clean yourself up. Don't even want to think about the mess that's likely drying against the new air mattress or how it's going to be cleaned up without Royal or Cecelia butting in.

Bob's bulging biceps tremble as he settles down next to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek, "I love you."

From your other side, there's a jealous whine.

"Hold on, hold on, I didn't forget about you," eyes rolling; Bob sits up, meeting Rhett halfway to give him a proper peck on the lips, "I love you too, shug."

"We're in trouble if Cecelia or Royal heard anything," you breathe, staring up at the star-speckled sky. The house isn't necessarily close, but a loud enough noise can probably be heard from the front porch.

"Not like we have to tell them the truth if they ask," that's a strange statement coming from Bob that you have to double-check that it's actually coming from him. "Those noises were mere whispers in the dark, nothing more, nothing less."

You don't remember too much after that. There's a gap in your memory where you suspect you fell asleep, somewhere between Bob pointing out a specific constellation and Rhett insisting it looks like a penis. You think you wake up when Bob scoops you up and carries you out of the truck. No idea when or how you got inside the cab, but you're being lifted out of it anyway.

And you must wind up in the bath somehow because you wake up completely clean the next morning. Devoid of any of that mess you three had created.  Like it had never happened.

Tiny wheels run up and down your naked back. One is driving up your spine, the other across a sensitive bruise that has formed overnight. The vehicles crash in a whispered explosion, tires squealing through hushed whines in the backs of throats, a little 'psshh' indicating the climax of the catastrophic event. 

"What the hell are you two doing?"

"Waiting on you to wake up," Rhett yawns; admittedly, he doesn't sound very awake himself.

From your other side, Bob presses a kiss to your shoulder, grinning when you turn to look at him, "we're all packed. The final thing we need to get put in the truck is our baby."

It's merely four in the morning. The sun has yet to rise, Cecelia and Royal are still tucked in their bed when you creep past their bedroom door. A goodbye note rests on the kitchen table, promising to stop by to fetch Rhett's truck after you leave Grand Talon.

"Talon, again?" Bob's cheeks pinken at your teasing.

Rhett's head rises from the open refrigerator, chewing on a piece of cheddar cheese that he's just hijacked, "and here I thought you were the one who got fucked stupid last night, not Bob."

You blink, and Bob's halfway across the room, both of them falling to the floor with a loud thump. Rolling around in a fit of giggles as they fight to see who comes out on top. Rhett's a goner before it's even started, Bob's fingers tickling up his sides. Makes it so, so easy for him to roll their bodies over and straddle Rhett's lap.

Bob's got that block of cheese now, "you're lucky we're still in your momma's house, sugar."

God, you can't take them anywhere, can you? Rhett's squirming, trying to fight back, but today is one of those rare days where Bob's true strengths shine through. All those years of maintaining his spot in the top percent of the Navy, all to pin an unruly cowboy to a kitchen floor.

"Alright, alright," bending down, you press a kiss to Bob's temple, "we'll settle this at the hotel, Playboy."

You're halfway out the door before they realize you've stolen their block of cheese. Scrambling to their feet, laughter bounces off the walls as the front door slams shut behind them. Giddy, full of energy that will be burnt out by noon. Energy that will be recharged after their honorary, communal nap with you in the hotel bed. It'll be gone by the time you settle on where to go for dinner. 

So far, your vacation hasn't adhered to Google's abstract definition, but you're starting to like it that way. 

[spacedreamhead]

- credits to this talented person who wasn’t linked on this image (source: pinterest)

bnha x fem. reader

tw: 16+, violence, hacking, age-up characters, mention of blood, slow burn, enemies to lovers trope, strong language

⊹ ⋆ ⊹ ⋆ ⊹ ⋆ ⊹ ⋆ ⊹ ⋆ ⊹ ⋆ ⊹ ⋆ ⊹ ⋆ ⊹ ⋆ ⊹ ⋆ ⊹ ⋆ ⊹ ⋆ ⊹ ⋆ ⊹ ⋆ ⊹ ⋆ ⊹

𝔼𝕩𝕔𝕖𝕡𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕒𝕝

Ch. 1

Your fingers type fast on the keyboard, coding a virus into the international hero commission computer system.

Your plan didn’t go as planned; the firewall of the international system was more complex that any other computer system that you previously hacked.

However, you always have a backup plan.

Beforehand, you create unprotected paths in network systems to gain access through this complex framework. It’s important to mention here that patience is key because you waited weeks, no months for someone who falls into that stupid little trap.

And of course that someone was a dense newbie; are they not undergo special cyber attack courses and learn how so-called Trojans work?

Pff … better for you.

Nevertheless, your thoughts are interrupted by some ringing noises in your right earplug and you look on your security system, checking if someone approaches the dating server rooms. Indeed, someone - a security guardian goes past the room, inspecting just the empty, dark hall.

A self-pleased grin forms on your lips, leaning back in your self-designed chair which be made of old, mouldered cardboards.

„Just a few more hours and you‘ll be out of here“, you quietly mumble, missing the feeling to peacefully sleep on your own bad in your own apartment. „Just a few more hours“, you slowly repeat yourself, closing your eyes for a few seconds to rest your genius mind. You doze off, not noticing the painful loud ringing tone in your earplug and you just shrug it off as a annoying, nasty bug. Though, you hear some voices; some irritating, blustering voices followed by noisy screeching.

„So now we’re looking for a fucking data gap in the system?“

Your bloodshot eyes tear open, hearing every word that is said. Immediately, you shut down your laptop, kicking the cardboards aside and scurry off to the ventiduct. You tap against your visor, visualising the blueprints of the building and resume your escape route. In the meantime, the strangers continue their way to the dating server rooms - to the fucking dating server rooms in which you forgot your delicious cheese-ham sandwich.

„Oh my fucking god“, you rub your nerve-strained temples, „how stupid can I be?“

You quickly crawl along the air shaft because it’s only a matter of time before you are exposed. And indeed, there is a great outcry when the security guard and the strangers see some cardboards frantically thrown aside with a neatly wrapped cheese-ham sandwich beside.

„Oh god, there was somebody in here?!“

„How fucking dense are these security guards? Did you not check the dating server rooms when there’s a data gap in your system?!“

You hold back your nasty laugher, wrinkling your nose because of all the dust in the ventiduct.

„Kacchan, be respectful to the guard!“

„But I‘m fucking telling the truth!“, he nags, „and don’t call me with that disgusting nickname, nerd!“

You pause in surprise because the strangers seem treacherously familiar to you. You zoom in the video, adjusting the pixelated image and look astonished.

Are these strangers the two best heroes of Japan!?

„Shitshitshit“, you murmur in panic, „why are these two fuckers here?!“

„Todoroki, stay outside and secure the area. We have a security housebraking.“

The third best hero too!?, you think bitterly, heaving yourself out of the air shaft and in the next moment you breathe the cool night air into your burning lungs. You have to hurry up, so you won’t be caught — it’s not hard to guess who tried to hack into the international computer system.

„Can I see your security footage?“

„Of course, Deku-san. Please, follow me.“

„Kacchan, stay here. Maybe they will come back to“, his eyes fall onto the neatly wrapped sandwich, „secure their belongings.“

„Don’t order me around, neet! I’ll find out where this dipshit ran off to“, he angrily huffs at his childhood friend and they nod to each other before the green-haired man follows the security guard to the footage room.

Meanwhile, you monitor their exchange and dash into a side street; away from these three hero’s. By then, Midoriya Izuku examines the security footage, analysing all unusual occurrences and instantly stops at one point.

„Why do the lights flicker?“

The security guard presses his lips together, not noticing the dark gaze of the infamous number one hero.

„Repeat the video“, he points at a barely recognisable silhouette, „there he is. This is our burglar.“

He thoughtfully tilts his head, trying to recognise the stranger before an idea flashes his mind.

„Do you remember the incident three years ago when a small piece of the government database became public?“

„And the hacker created his own firewall which has only been partially cracked to this day“, Todoroki asks calmly to make sure they mean the same figure, „yes, why?“

„I think that’s the same person.“

The sudden silence lies heavily between the three hero’s before Bakugou cuts it.

„Found it!“

He moves some server cabinets aside as he sees a disheveled cover panel of an air shaft.

„Where does the ventilation duct go?“

„Which one?“

„The one in the right corner.“

Midoriya looks expectantly to the security guard which replies instantly and the three hero’s move on the spot.

Your heart sinks immediately, hearing loud explosions from the direction you just came from.

„Shitshitshit“, you sprint across an empty street, not looking back because they are hot on your heels. Nonetheless, a detonation erupts beside you and it scares the shit out of you.

„Found you, fucker!“

A quiet screech leaves your lips as you light-footed dodge his attack before the infamous three superheroes stand a few meters away from you.

“You're surrounded, villain!”

A honey-sweet grin creeps onto your facial features, flashing out your pointed canines to intimidate them; or perhaps to reassure yourself that you’re not scared at all — no, not against the freaking three best superheroes of Japan. Instead of being scared, your eyes would sparkle with malicious euphoria if they were not covered by your midnight black visor. You playfully raise your hands upwards, gazing to the professionell hero’s who gather in front of you as a small group.

“Why are we waiting so damn long?”

“Kacchan, we are not allowed to-“

“How often should I tell you to address me properly with my code name during work?!”

The two heroes engage in a heated discussion, forgetting the most wanted villain who is in front of them.

“Midoriya! Bakugou! Stop arguing and concentrate!”, Todoroki interrupts the two quarrels, “he's running off!”

His words make you move, shifting a few gears higher to scurry off. You dodge the incoming attacks from the hero’s, turning into a dark side street. Your lunges burn from the intense race as you promptly inhale the cool air into them before an explosion surprises you from the left side. You stop, wiping away the dirt from the lower half of your face.

„Damn you, freak!“

It crackles loudly on his hands before you hear another detonation. Your vision goes white and on your left cheekbone blooms an incomprehensible pain. It rings in your ears, not noticing how glass splinters drill into your soft skin.

„Oh?“

His ruby-red earths glimmer dangerously.

„You‘re a woman?“

You refrain from making a sarcastic joke, just rolling your eyes and take off your broken visor. You click your tongue, lifting proudly your head and your eyes — your beautiful, pretty eyes shimmer like shining stars at night to him as you raise your right hand in his direction. Unmistakable, white lightnings flashes above your acra, tingling your sudden porcelaneous skin.

His eyes dilate when a bright light envelops you both and impairs his vision; a violent eruption sounds and the floor vibrates under your feet as you use your quirk. A huge torrent of fire, accrued by potential energy, rises on the walls of a house, signalling exactly where you are. Frantically, you keep sprinting and ignore the biting pain in your left cheek before you notice the other rummering steps behind you.

„Todoroki, use your ice and freeze her!“

The addressed hero acts quickly but does not expect his ice to be enveloped in a white light and to be absorbed. In amastement, he stops in his movement, looking closely at you. Midoriya also looks at you in surprise but quickly grasps the situation after a few seconds.

“We don't want to hurt you!”, he immediately calls to you while you furrow your forehead irritated. “We would like to suggest an offer to you!”, he continues to talk when he realises that you are listening to him.

However, you annoyingly roll your eyes and a mean comment lingers on your tongue as you shake your head, extending your hand in their direction. Though, something or rather someone roars loudly, lunging to your figure. Bakugou grabs you from behind, twisting your one and then your other arm as you scream in pain. Tears form in the corners of your eyes, not noticing how hard you bite your lower lip to prevent you from crying when the infamous second hero overpowered you.

“Nah, nah, nah … not so fast, extra.”

You gasp painfully, hearing a treacherous crack in your arm bone. Big, fat tears roll down your blood-smeared cheekbones and a broken sob leaves your sore bitten, puffy lips. The superhero above you put some special handcuffs on your wrists, jolting them to secure their tenacity. These special handcuffs prevent the use of your superpowers and therefore, they significantly slow down your healing process. He easily lifts your up, grabbing your jaw and moves your view onto the other two heroines.

”Kac- uh Dynamite, that wasn’t really necessary”, says the green-haired man calmly, “she is hardly conscious now.” Breathing heavily, an ignorant, disgusted expression forms on your facial features as your bloodshot eyes burn holes onto the body of the symbol of peace.

“When I get out of here”, it’s the first time they hear your voice which resembles so much temerity and venom, “I'll kill you.”

“Oh, really?”

Bakugou painfully squeezes your cheekbones together, eliciting a painful moan from you.

“You’re the first one who dies.”

His deep, dangerous growl vibrates through your petite body and his grip hardens more around your form. Goosebumps creep up your back as you flinch under his firm grip before he snatches your hair, hoisting your head to his furious face.

“Then I'm curious to see how you want to kill me, darling.”

His last word is full of venom as he hits hard your pretty head as you fold like a collapsible mattress in his big hands. His thoughts acted before his mind, altering his previous trains of thoughts and he stares at you for a moment.

“She’s a pain in the ass”, he mumbles as he sees the horrific gaze from Midoriya who stumbles to his side. “It would’ve been better if she was awake”, he rants, shaking his head before he’s calling somebody on his phone, explaining the current situation that they have found the incredible, unbefuckinglievable and perhaps hacker of this incident three years ago.

[cbk1000]

@aemelia is standing over me cracking a bullwhip and forcing me to write about two morons having sex on a luxury train, so here's another little preview of that. The other two previews posted earlier can be found here and here.

But Merlin ruined it for him, by anticipating what had been a brilliant plan, and therefore one which ought to have been safely out of the reach of his brain. All morning Arthur avoided him by moving swiftly along to another car when he saw the dark head entering his, and answering Morgana’s Where the hell are you texts with, Sorry, you must have just missed me till she gave up even sending them. 

Then when everyone disembarked at the village, he hurried back to their room, and found Merlin sat on the scene of the crime. He froze. Merlin was fiddling the phone in his hand all round, but looking up steadily at him, with unrelenting eye contact. “Hey.”

“Hey.” Arthur stuck his hands in his pockets. “I just came back for a shower.”

“Yeah, I figured. That’s why I’m here. Thought you might not get off the train with everyone else, considering the fact that I haven’t seen you all morning even though we share a room and we’re on a train with very limited hiding places.”

Arthur shifted from foot to foot. “I wasn’t hiding, I was having a chat with that couple from California.”

“Oh yeah?” Merlin raised an eyebrow. “So you were stationary, in one spot, chatting to this couple, and I missed you every time I went through every car looking for you? That’s interesting.”

Arthur looked away.

Merlin sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look. I can ask Gwaine if he’ll switch rooms. I could stay with him, and you with Morgana.”

“And how are you going to explain why we’re switching rooms?”

“I’ll just say you snore and I forgot my earplugs. Morgana has those earbuds that play white noise or whatever. She’ll be fine.”

“Well, I won’t; I can’t stay with Morgana. We’ll kill one another.”

“Fine, then I’ll stay with Morgana.”

“You’re going to share a bed with Morgana?”

“We’re both adults. We can platonically share a bed.”

“Yes, you certainly have a stellar track record of that,” Arthur pointed out, waspishly. 

“Well, Morgana’s dating Gwaine, and she’s a lot smarter than you, so I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Merlin snapped.

“What do you mean ‘smarter than me’, like it’s my fault, when it was your idea!” Arthur cried.

“Well, you could have said, ‘No, Merlin, don’t suck my dick’ like a reasonable person. I’d been drinking and I hadn’t been laid in a while, so you had our brain cell, and you should have used it.”

Arthur frowned down at him. “So you did it because you were drunk?” 

Merlin rubbed his face with both hands. “I wasn’t drunk drunk, but do you think I would have done that sober? When you said you’d never come from a blowjob, the alcohol took over my mouth, and I just blurted that out, and then when you didn’t tell me to fuck off like a sane person, my dick took over from there.”

“So you’re saying that you, an entire, whole, adult man, are not in charge of your own actions?”

“When I haven’t had sex in over six months and someone offers to blow me, no, I am not in charge, my penis is.” He was striving for a light tone, but must have seen on Arthur’s face that it was not landing as he had meant it to; that he was doing more harm than good: all of which was being done to Arthur’s throat, which felt suddenly as hot, and tight, and tremulous as it had in the dining car. He rubbed his face again. “Look, you have to stop avoiding me. We’ve been mates over a decade, and we’ve never let being dumbarses fuck it up before. So either we switch rooms, or one of us kips on the sofa, but we don’t tiptoe round one another, or duck into another car all week every time we see the other one coming, because we were horny.” He clasped his hands between his knees. “It’s just getting off. Stimulation is stimulation and all that. I mean, it was a bit gay for you to blow me, but other than that, you’re fine.”

Arthur scowled at him.

“You kept your socks on, and that’s the first rule of ‘no homo.’”

“Oh, is it?” Arthur snapped. “Well, you had yours off, so what does that mean?”

“That I’m comfortably bisexual and I don’t have to have a crisis about getting a blowjob from a man.”

“I rather think the problem is specifically which man gave you the blowjob.”

[fckyouiwontdowhatyoutellme]

This is so choppy and weird I'm sorry

Imagine if you will Steve, Robin and Eddie at some concert, waiting infront of the location to be let in.

Steve and Robin went together, knowing that Eddie will be there too. Eddie and Steve are in the very beginnings of something but despite Steve being usually super confident in his flirting, he wasn't confident enough to put the moves on Eddie yet.

By the time Steve and Robin arrive at the concert location Steve has already decided to elevate his confidence with some beer and weed so now he's in his giggly, loopy mode and Robin already had it.

Eddie is already there with his guys by the time the other two arrive but he is also not confident enough to approach Steve alone, so he just awkwardly steals some glances towards where he and Robin stand around. He sees Steve whisper something to Robin, while pointing at him and almost has a heartattack when Robin walks over.

"Okay so I am not entirely sure what dingus over there said but he either wanted me to hit you or hit on you, so I am going to do the first one" she says with a light punch to a very confused Eddies arm.

Eddie just awkwardly laughs and waves Steve over to them as well. Steve follows on wobbly legs and falls into another fit of giggles when he almost knocks over Robin. Eddie has already heard of the infamous giggly Steve but witnessing it in person is a hole new level. He is absolutely enamoured.

Within a few minutes Robin and Steve are sitting next to Eddie and his friends on the floor, Robin chatting with the guys and Steve...well Steve decided to flirt.

Unfortunately the only thing his drunk fuzzy brain can come up with is trying to give Eddie a wet willie as an excuse to be close to him. So now Eddie has to deal with a giggly drunk Steve constantly poking his spit wet finger into his ear (failing to actually hit his ear 80% of the time because he's that drunk) and he can't even be mad because Steve looks just way too cute like that.

So Eddie endures the poking attacks on his face, neck, arm, literally anywhere Steve can reach and once he has enough liquid courage himself dares to bite Steve's finger hovering infront of his face. To Eddie's delight that makes his opponent blush like crazy (he ignores Jeff and Grant pointing out that he's blushing as well).

So as the night goes on the two of them are stuck in a poke/biting war and basically all over each other even during the concert. It eventually evolves into sneaking a kiss onto whatever part of the other is closest. Gareth and Robin yell at them to just get a room already to wich Steve simply responds: "Yeah I'm planning on that".

They do get into a room but only with much help of Robin and the Corroded Coffin guys because by now they're both giggly drunk/high messes who can barely walk straight (ha!). Their poking/biting/smooching war goes on the entire way back to Robin & Steve's appartment and when they finally fall into Steve's bed still giggling they manage to sneak an actual kiss on the lips despite being uncoordinated as fuck. After that they're both out like a light and Robin doesn't have to get out her earplugs much to her delight.

They do talk about it all when they wake up all tangled together, still in sweaty beer soaked clothes from the night before and laughing about how stupid their drunk selves decided to flirt.

And when someone asks months later why Steve gives Eddie a wet willie with the fondest look ever on his face, Robin just sighs and tells the story of her dingus and dork and how that became their love language.

[interstellarwizard2019]

🎄🎅🌟Happy (late) Crisis!!!🌟🎅🎄

‘Pologies for the lack of existence on my end, seasonal depression crept up on me lately.🫠

⬇️Story time + doodles undercut ⬇️

Anyways, on the last day of work all hell broke loose/pos. During the first hours of the day (Dec 19) everything was calm, but you could tell that everyone was abuzz for the last day of work because not only were we going to be let off early that day, but also there was a massive party that the company held on the property.

As the day progressed, things immediately started to escalate. People were blowing up balloons and popping them, some straight up brought beer and coquito and passed it around, groups of people both big and small started parrandeando all through the plant, meanwhile I was stuffing earplugs into my ears to try and drown out the noise and focus on my work…and that only last for like 3 hours before I gave up and sat on a small table before picking up a cardboard box and started doodling on it to pass the time.

Even though I was I was planning to do this for the past two or three months, I was terrified that either my supervisor or one of the big wigs would see me doing this and reprimand me. It’s practically mandatory to keep your station clean and clear of distractions, I once put a few stickers on my area and a few months later after they remodeled the plant they removed every the sticker that wasn’t part of the machines.

But uh…when my supervisor came by to tell me to secure my tickets, not only did he not say anything about me doodling on a box, he was also eventually peer pressured into taking a shot.

So uh…yeah. Shit got wild that day. Also I stole some table ornaments from the party afterwards butthatsbesidethepointofthispost!

🎄Merry Chrysler, y’all!🎄

Here’s the doods up close!

Out of four sides, everyone said that the one with dinosaurs was their favorite.🦕🦖🦣

[jaysons-alt]

It's funny what being in the Scouts did to me. I got lucky, ended up in a good troop, and had a great time, but it's affected me in small but noticeable ways.

Most of all has been preparation/packing for things. My ADHD ass forgets things constantly, but I almost always have a few things on my person or in my car or in my vicinity that I brought cause I glanced over the itinerary and knew from experience I should probably have.

For example, I'm going to be out of town at a farm tomorrow & the next day. I need my toothbrush, two pairs of jeans, three shirts, three sets of underwear, four sets of socks, a knife, a hat, and my hiking boots. On me would be my phones, a charger, my nalgene(scout thing) and my license.

Optional bring alongs would be a rope/paracord, my 800lbs magnet, my laptop, and maybe some kind of snack. I should check the weather, maybe I'll need a jacket or poncho. Grandpa's brand of earplugs are itchy, so bring a few packs of my own.

Past me, before scouts, or me, without scouts, would have definitely overpacked, underpacked, and outright forgotten things, and I know that for a fact.

Even on smaller trips, like going to a friend's for DND, I make a mental note to grab things I wouldn't normally. For most people, this is common sense, to some degree, but to me, Scouts taught me what I can survive a weekend, a week, and a month with and without, and what things I can bring to make it easier.

And it also colors my daily interactions. I learned how to interact with adults, how to respect someone's authority and still get my way (I've had my fair share of power hungry senior patrol leaders), how to teach people things, and how to lead others from alongside, instead of from above.

And I don't always realize I'm doing it. I did it by accident when I joined the theatre company at my high school. I wasn't planning to overshadow anyone, or create my own subgroup of technicians, or do the set head's job for him (honestly though why him?). I found that I was doing it subconsciously, and new people were brought to me first, and people were looking for work and to coordinate people. It was nice to step back from it toward the end of production, honestly.

All of this is to say I'm not sure who I would be without the Scouts, and I owe a massive thank you to Mr. Payne for helping me through it and working with me.

TLDR scouts got me and I haven't been the same since

[briamichellewrites]

99

2006. Jason was in class when he got a text message from his father. Bria was in the hospital. He gathered his stuff as quietly as he could and put it into his bag. While he was walking to the door, the professor noticed. He asked him if it was important. Yes, his girlfriend was in labor. That was a very important reason to leave. One of his friends said good luck to him. He thanked him before leaving. Was he nervous? That was an understatement!

Bria was not having a fun time. She was in pain and was waiting to get an epidural. Donna coached her with her breathing. In and out. In and out. The contractions started an hour ago. They were too far apart to start delivery. Her water had yet to break. She leaned forward as she rubbed her back.

“You are doing great. Just keep breathing.”

“I’m cursing Jason right now.”

Muto came back into the room. He came over to them. As a father, he remembered when Donna was in labor with Mike. He had so much respect for what women went through during pregnancy, labor, and delivery. It was the miracle of life. He let them know that Jason was on his way. A nurse came in to see how she was doing. She was in a lot of pain.

Did she want an epidural? Yeah, thanks! She would get that for her. Donna thanked her. Nine months. It went by so fast! It was a roller coaster of different emotions. They went from learning they had a miscarriage to finding out she was pregnant again. She finished three months of rehab before being discharged. Once she got home, she went immediately into planning to move across the country to Cambridge.

It was just a lot easier for them to live together. She moved in with him and his housemates while six months pregnant. They were reluctant at first to have her because she was pregnant. Jason assured them it was only temporary until they found their own place. It turned out not to be a problem. She was respectful of their space.

While they were at school or working, she ran errands for them. She needed something to keep her busy since her ADHD energy levels were high. The only thing she asked them was to not touch her stash of food. They were for when she had cravings in the middle of the night. They agreed not to touch them. Thank you. She bought earplugs, so she could nap during the day when they were usually home. Jason could tell she was trying hard for them to like her. They did.

They had zero complaints. They found a two-bedroom, two-bathroom apartment. After going through the process of being approved, they toured it before agreeing to purchase it. They moved their stuff in, along with all the baby stuff they bought. Did they know what they were having? A girl! Donna and Muto were thrilled to have a granddaughter!

The Shinoda family flew in for a mixed-gender baby shower. Donna and Muto introduced her to everyone. Mike also flew in. He hugged her. She looked beautiful! Her belly was huge! It contrasted with her tall thin body. She only looked pregnant from the front. Jason loved her pregnant body. Her skin glowed. His family accepted her right away. They welcomed her into their big family of grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins.

Once the epidural kicked in, she was feeling a lot better! Jason arrived at her bedside. He put his book bag down on the floor. Did he run over? No, he drove. He just absentmindedly took his bag with him. How was she doing? She was a lot better! On his way, he called Mike to let him know. He was going to get the first flight to see them.

While they waited, her water broke. She burst into laughter because it felt so weird! Jason asked what the hell happened! Donna explained the situation to him. She got up to get a nurse. More fluids were coming out of her. The baby was coming! He was usually calm but he was internally freaking out! She felt her contractions starting again as a nurse came in. Her labor was progressing well. She would likely give birth in twenty-four to forty-eight hours.

Mike got to the hospital just as she started pushing. He had to wait outside. That was fine. He sat down and got out his phone. Brad was wanting to know how things were going. He was busy producing The Departed in Boston. Jayde was visiting him. She was having fun watching everything and talking to the actors when they weren’t shooting.

A half-hour later, he heard a baby screaming. He got up and walked to the room. Muto noticed him and walked over to where he was with a huge smile. Bria delivered the umbilical cord. Jason then cut it. She was then taken to be examined.

When he was finally able to meet his little girl, he had tears in his eyes. She was so beautiful. He was so in love with her and Bria. Hi, I’m Daddy! He handed her to Bria. She looked at her. Her hair was black and her eyes were dark brown. She was perfect. When she noticed he was crying, she started crying. He laughed and hugged her.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

When Mike was finally able to come in, he hugged her. Congratulations! Thank you!

They all wanted to know her name since they kept it secret. She and Jason laughed. It was Ami Marie Shinoda. They all thought it was a beautiful name! Wasn’t that the name they originally thought of? Yes! They laughed. She just wasn’t one hundred percent sure about it at the time. It was a perfect name!

They all washed their hands before they took turns holding her. Ami was wrapped up like a burrito with a hat on her tiny head. For the moment, she was happy. As happy as a newborn could be. Everything was strange. It was cold, bright, and loud. She wanted to go back into the womb where it was nice and warm. But she couldn’t. When she needed or wanted something, she had to cry. Her parents were going to have to learn a lot! She listened to everything going on around her.

The voices were muffled. She couldn’t understand what they were saying. They were just words to her. One voice she heard was her mother’s. She heard it in the womb. Jason told them the story of how he got up in the middle of class. His professor asked him where he was going and if it was important. What did he say? His girlfriend was in labor.

They laughed. That was a good reason to interrupt class. How close was she to her due date? She was a few days overdue. They were going to have her come in to be induced in a couple of days but it happened by itself. Due dates weren’t always exact, right? They were forty weeks after her last cycle. It’s as close as they can get. They can’t predict complications with pregnancy or labor. Yeah. He looked down at his niece. No dating until she was eighteen! They laughed. Nice try, Michael. Nice try. He laughed.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon

[alhadiindia]

Must-Have Items for a Blessing Journey

For Muslims, making the sacred pilgrimage of Umrah is a profoundly spiritual experience. It is a period of devotion, introspection, and seeking Allah's nearness. Careful planning is necessary for a successful and gratifying trip. Pilgrims can organize their belongings and make sure they have all they need for this wonderful journey by making a thorough Umrah travel checklist. We shall provide a thorough Umrah travel checklist in this article to assist pilgrims in making the most of their revered journey.

Travel Documents:

Passport must be valid for at least six months after the date of travel. Obtaining an umrah visa from a Saudi embassy or consulate. copies of vital documents and identification cards.

Flight and Accommodation Details:

Flight schedules and tickets. specifics of a hotel reservation.

Clothing:

Ihram clothing (two white, seamless clothes for men; a modest, straightforward outfit for women). Extra clothing that is appropriate for the climate of Madinah and Makkah. For use in the holy sites, comfortable walking shoes and robes.

Personal Items:

Toiletries (shampoo, soap, toothpaste, toothbrush, etc.). Hair comb or brush. wipes for personal hygiene during Ihram that don't have any scents. Sunscreen and sunglasses are essential for sun protection. A little first-aid pack that includes bandages and common drugs.

Prayer and Worship Items:

For doing prayers in the Masjid al-Haram and Masjid an-Nabawi, use a prayer mat (sajjadah). A compact Qur'an for reading and contemplation. Tasbeeh or Dhikr beads are used to remember Allah. ablution (wudu) water bottle that is portable for use before prayers.

Money and Currency:

enough cash in the local currency to cover trip expenses. Credit/debit cards are used for larger purchases and emergencies. Use a money belt or bag to store valuables safely.

Electronics:

phone and charger for it. Electronic gadget charging adaptor that is universal. Power bank for mobile charging. Use a camera or a smartphone to record recollections.

Important Contacts:

Contact information for Saudi Arabia and your home nation in case of emergency. The Saudi Arabian embassy or consulate's contact information.

Travel Comfort:

During the voyage, you can rest comfortably with a neck cushion and an eye mask. earplugs to block noise while sleeping.

Snacks and Hydration:

Energy bars and healthy snacks for on-the-go refuelling. Reusable water container to keep hydrated when travelling.

Language Assistance:

a small English-Arabic phrasebook for everyday conversation. For assistance, use language reference books or translation apps.

Medications and Personal Health:

prescription drugs, along with a note from the doctor describing their use. Personal health information and any required medical records. During travel, use hand sanitizer to preserve hygiene.

Additional Supplies:

Use ziplock bags to store snacks, papers, and other random stuff. Small bag or backpack for everyday ritual use. Travel Insurance: Valid travel insurance coverage for the entire duration of the trip.

To make sure nothing important is forgotten, it is imperative to double-check every item on the Umrah travel checklist before leaving. In order to make the travel more manageable, especially during the Tawaf and Sa'i ceremonies, it is also advised to bring lightweight luggage.

Remember to concentrate on the spiritual component of the journey and practice real worship and devotion while you make your preparations for the pilgrimage. Physical preparations should support spiritual readiness, fostering a sense of peace and devotion throughout the revered Umrah pilgrimage.

A useful checklist for Umrah pilgrims to use as they get ready for their fortunate journey. A seamless and gratifying trip is ensured by careful planning and preparation, which frees pilgrims to concentrate solely on their spiritual development and connection with Allah.

[thewheelieweirdclub]

The Tassie Trail.

This is the beginning of a different kind of love story, the kind that isn’t celebrated enough. This is the experience that kickstarted a very special bond between us, the collision of two hardy bitches. An eternal friendship started right here on the Tassie trail.

Back in September last year, Sammy and I went on a mate date to watch a small bike film festival, showing inspiring movies of people on two wheels. ‘Lets plan something epic’ we said to one another during the intermission, and so the idea to ride the Tasmanian Trail, a 500km route with 10,000m of elevation, spanning the length of Tasmania was born.

To tell you the truth, there was not a whole lot of preparation, but the stoke levels were immeasurably high. I had just purchased my first mountain bike (a dual suspension 2017 Scott Spark) less than two months prior to embarking on this mission, and Sammy had very kindly been lent a Surly ECR, which she’d never ridden before (yikes). We packed very light, using lots of hiking gear that we both already owned, and borrowing gear where we could, even down to shoes and pedals. Very little research was done into the conditions of the trail, we’re both very much of the ‘just wing it’ kind of mindset. We booked a couple of tickets on the redline coach up to the start of the trail in Devonport, and with 5 days off work, and a ‘fuck around and find out’ attitude, we set off on our merry way. 

Day 1.

Very quickly (less than 5 kilometres in), we realised that actually, there is some merit to testing  gear before a trip (I know, who’d have thought?). I had a few bag malfunctions straight off, with the saddle pack being rammed too full, sagging like a sack of potatoes and hitting my rear tyre. A few adjustments every kilometre or so and eventually we were on our way, or so we thought. 

The track notes had mentioned somewhere that it is useful to get a key for some gates that we would inevitably come across, to which we replied ‘that sounds too easy, how do we make it harder?’. Well, the answer is to lift your bike and all the attached gear over multiple head high gates. All of this whilst trying not to wet yourself from laughter. Yes, this is the trip that made me realise that I need to work on my pelvic floor muscles, to avoid having to wear incontinence pads every time I’m around Sammy P. Damn that girl makes me laugh so hard I pee a little. And what better time to figure this out, than when wearing the same pair of bib shorts for 5 days in a row. 

Now, some would say it would be smart to have some bike mechanical knowledge when embarking on a mission this big, and they would be correct. About 30kms in, and pretty much in the middle of nowhere, I could hear an odd hissing sound coming from my front tyre. This is my first bike running  tubeless tyres, and therefore I had no idea how to manage them. But with a can do attitude (something Sammy and I possess to a detriment), I managed to use the force of gravity and some interesting positioning to seal the hole, whilst Sammy provided the laughs. 

By now we had ridden 40km (huge right?!), so it would’ve been rude not to stop in the first town we came across for a big old feed. Burgers and milkshakes seemed to set the theme of the food to come on the trail, which feels good at the time, but in hindsight chicken and banana are not flavours you want to be simultaneously repeating on you whilst pedalling uphill. “I FEEL SICKY”, we yelled to each other in both disgust and amusement, and that wouldn’t be for the last time either.

Old forestry trails opened our eyes to how much logging goes on in Tasmania that we don’t see. These led us to our first camp spot perched on the bank of the Mersey river, opposite some cows. We set up camp, notified our family and friends of our safety with Sammy’s SPOT GPS tracker, and tucked ourselves in (which for Sammy, involves blocking out the entire world with earplugs and a face mask). 

UNTIL about 4am, when I was suddenly woken by bright headlights illuminating the inside of the tent. “Hello, it’s the police, you’ve set off your GPS tracker” I heard coming from outside. I shook Sammy awake and we crawled out of the tent, Sammy still donning her eye mask on her forehead. The police very kindly notified us of our quite large mistake. Sammy believed she had been pressing a button that would send a little wave to the mission followers at home, when she had in fact lifted a flap to press a button that conveyed that we needed non emergent help. This had sent a text to Sammy’s swimming friend Rod, not once, but 7 times. Rightly so, Rod had become concerned and contacted the local authorities, who had sent two police officers on a 78km mission from Devonport to come and find two peacefully sleeping women unaware of their mistake. Not only this, but they had to swap their regular vehicle for an off road golf buggy so that they could tame the trails. Sammy apologised profusely, whilst I giggled equally. Lucky for us, the police officers were incredibly forgiving of our mistake, and informed us that if they hadn’t received the call then they would’ve been sleeping at station with nothing to do (which I’m not sure is such a bad thing at all). 

Anyway, it would certainly give them something to laugh about at station, and we received an education on how to actually use the SPOT tracker. We waved the policemen off and went back to bed, whilst they made the long, complicated journey back to Devonport. 

Day 2.

We probably should’ve know from the start, that today was going to be anything but smooth sailing. Instead of getting our butts out of bed after the whole police debacle we chose to return to slumber until 6am, an interesting choice given the day ahead. We hadn't quite managed to streamline the whole bike packup process and it took us nearly two hours to get the show on the road. We had camped on the northern side of the river, saving the crossing for first thing. I was convinced that there was an easy way across further up stream, so we loaded up the bikes and rode a little up river. I was wrong. Not a good start, but we rode back to where we had started and unpacked the bikes. We crossed first unladen, wading through to find out that the river was waist deep, but luckily not very fast flowing. We returned to pick up all of our gear and carried that across, and then once more to bring our trusty steeds to the other side.

I had my first aqua poo, but we don’t need to delve too much into that.

From here, it did not get easier. For the first hour and an half of the day, we travelled 5km. We were met with steep, unrideable hills, many a fallen tree, and a cheeky bush bash to get us back on track after getting a tad lost. We would later find out that this section of the trail was actually closed due to it’s poor condition, and a tiny bit of track note reading/planning may have informed us of that, but where’s the fun in that, right?

Somewhere along the trail this morning Sammy started to have some knee troubles. She had the bright idea of calling the guys at the bike shop, who tried their best to provide a bike fit over the phone. Somewhere amongst this stop, someone (we won’t mention who) said to us that they knew we were never going to be able to complete this massive challenge, and that we were a little crazy for thinking it was possible in the 5 days we’d given ourselves. This of course stoked the fire within, as there’s nothing that pushes us two more than being told that we can’t do something.

The roads were a very welcome sight, it felt so good to pedal and cover some ground with minimal effort. 80(ish) km into the day and at around 4pm, we arrived at Bracknell. Nothing could get in the way of our ‘can do’ attitude…

…Except for maybe the realistic ladies that worked at the Bracknell petrol station.

We decided to stop and get some absolute treats, including the obligatory flavoured milk. The women working at the convenience store were curious to know what these two dishevelled, hungry, smelly, blood covered (I fell off my bike) girls were up to . ‘We’re cycling to Miena’ we confidently replied, and the reaction we got makes sense in hindsight. This negativity was like pouring petrol onto the flames, but in fairness these ladies weren’t entirely wrong.

We called ahead to the Great Lakes hotel in Miena. The fabulous manager (James) was stoked on our stoke, albeit somewhat mystified at our current location and today’s goal. He offered us the last room with the promise of a hot shower and a chicken parmy at the end. With that, we set off on what we thought was just 40 more kilometres (there was very limited signal to do any research on what lay ahead).

We thanked the ladies for their positivity and set off. A little further down the road, we managed to get some more signal. 40km was in fact correct… if travelling by foot or horse, and there would be a lot of hike-a-biking if this route was chosen. We stuck to the road and came across a road sign to Miena. 59km and 1500m elevation left. So at 6:30pm with the best drum and bass playlist to exist (thanks Josh), we started the gruelling climb up the poatina highway, with spirits as high as the mountain that lay in front of us.

After having already ridden a fair way that day, to say the body was a bit tired is definitely an understatement. After about 2 hours of climbing I had to start breaking it up into half an hour chunks of riding. Sammy P didn’t have any trouble at all, but was happy to pull over every half an hour and allow me to rest a tad. My legs were screaming a me, it felt like I was pulling/tearing butt muscles. I had to get off and walk the bike up the hill a few times. We maintained our positive attitude the whole way up the mountain, a little broken when we reached the top. Still, there was no time to think about that, as we still had 40km to get to Miena and it was already 9pm.

This was probably the longest 40km we’ve ever done. The last 16km seemed never ending. Sammy’s knees hurt so much from climbing that she couldn’t unclip to stop. I felt like I was going to vomit. Despite this, there was an incredible moment during that grim night of riding, where I looked up at the stars and saw the clearest night sky, then saw this kickass ‘yes-girl’ next to me, and thought ‘how lucky am I?’.

At 12:30 am we rolled into Miena, and nearly collapsed through the door of the Great Lakes accomodation. And there they were, such a magnificent sight, two chicken parmies and chips in the oven staring back at us longingly. We deliriously inhaled the food and treated ourselves to a shower (and even washed the knicks). We climbed into bed and set a late alarm for the next morning.

Day 3.

We woke at 8:30 feeling anything but rested. Sammy and I both suffer in the sleep department the night after an epic day on the tools, but we knew we had to keep chipping away at the beast that we’d started.

What better way to start the day than with a milkshake and a big breaky roll. This is the moment that Sammy started making me order food first, due to some ongoing food envy and decision regret. I like to get creative with my order, I couldn’t possibly make it easy for the folks working at the road house. And by difficult, what we’re talking about here is mixing banana and chocolate syrup in a milkshake… I’ll give you a second to recover from this mind blowing flavour combination.

Anyway, after the breakfast that was better than porridge, we treated ourselves to another shower, packed up, and set off for the day at around 11:00am. Within the first 500 metres Sammy and I agreed that we both felt absolutely fucked. Not just body tired, but brain tired too. The fact we were even able to sit back on the bikes was a Christmas miracle. Sammy was not particularly inspired by the start of this ride, which was gravel road through the countryside. I enjoyed seeing the vastness of the landscape, which Sammy described as ‘barren’. We stopped a few times to adjust Sammy’s cleats, in the hope that any small intervention would assist with her knee pain.

We pushed on, deciding that 2 hours of pedalling was enough to justify a lunch break. Let me tell you, this was also the best beef and gravy roll I have ever had, but it also could’ve been down to the fact that delirium had clearly kicked in by this stage.

We ended up taking an accidental detour (we can’t navigate) post lunch, which brought us along side a pretty beautiful lake. This gravel segment didn’t appear to be ridden (and strava’d) by many women, and saw us joining the leaderboard with our Tassie cycling idols, Sofia T and Flukesy.

We had another quite long break on the side of the road, and decided this was the perfect spot for coffee and a chat with Mr B. One hour later and we hauled ourselves back onto the bikes. Soon after doing so, we came across another group of keen blunnie-wearing bikepackers. They told us how hard they had heard the approach and climb was in the direction we had just travelled. We confirmed that they were in fact correct, as this was what we had done just the day before. We got a little ego boost from how impressed the guys were of our achievement, which fuelled our spirits to get us into Oose.

Then came probably the most beautiful part of the trail, and my description probably wont do it justice. The next section of the trail we started as the sun was coming towards the end of its day, low in the sky casting a yellow hue and beautiful long shadows on the path ahead. The trail was marginally technical single track, flowey and mostly downhill. This brought us to the farmland gravel roads that wound through magnificent rolling green hills. Sam wanted to use a ‘pencive’ (Harry Potter, if you know you know) to capture this moment forever, and after she explained to me what that was, I decided that I wouldn’t mind using one of those either.

At the end of the day we rolled into Oose and set up camp in a field next to some cows, proud of our efforts given how depleted we felt at the beginning of the day.

Day 4.

So if there’s one thing I can do well, it’s procrastinate, or ‘fanny around’ as Sammy likes to say. I’m a chronic faffer, its in my DNA, but I know Sammy loves me regardless. We woke up very puffy and quite sore again this morning, looking and smelling like a foot (sexy, right?).

We started off the day relatively positive, but within the first couple of kilometres it became apparent that Sammy’s knees were not so keen on the task at hand. Now I know that this girl is capable of a huge amount, and neither of us like to complain at all. So when I saw Sammy in tears whilst riding up one of the first hills, I anticipated that we were very soon going to have to make some hard choices.

With a huge day ahead of us, and what looked like a few remote sections of trail, we knew we needed to call it fairly early on if it was going to be called. After only 6kms down for the day we perched on the side of the road and had the hard chat. It was the end of the road for the dream team. Sammy’s naughty knees couldn’t be pushed any more. I felt as if I still had gas in the tank and something to prove, so I decided to embark on the remainder solo. I loaded up the bike with all the essentials that had been shared thus far, and with a few tears, waved goodbye to my new best friend Sammy.

Another 7km down the track and the trail had other plans. There was another river crossing, but this one appeared a lot faster flowing and deeper. I unpacked the bike, knowing that it would be easier to cross it without baggage like before. First I tried to find a path across empty handed and failed. The river was too fast and too deep, it took an hour of trying to get across, and me falling in to realise that this was a bad idea and also quite dangerous given I was without signal and now alone. I backtracked 5km and found an alternate route along a gravel road. Down this road I came across a couple of lads that had just flipped their Ute going too fast around a corner, and realised had I been there a minute or so earlier, the day might not have ended so well for me.

I continued onto the sealed main road. It was here that I realised that the highs and lows shared with Sammy were what had made this trip so special, and that it was going to be a lot harder nudging it alone.

I continued on the road through Westerway and ate my feelings in the form of a milkshake (for Sammy) and too many chips. I ducked off road as soon as I could (after being told off by a police car for not being visible enough). This took me through some farm land. Now if you’ve seen black sheep then I want you to imagine how ridiculous the next section was for me. I had to ride through a farm in a field of sheep, but there were hundreds of them, and the more I rode the more they became densely squashed towards the gate I would inevitably need to open. But I was brave and cleared the images of sheep mauling humans from my mind, as I pushed through the literal sea of wool to pass through the gate.

I got back to the road and next came one of the most grim climbs of the trip so far (mentally). The ascent before New Norfolk was unrelenting. I put drum and bass in my ear holes but it just wasn’t hitting right without my partner in crime. So I did what I needed to do and gave her a call. And with that got a much needed pep talk, but also felt like I was still sharing the experience with her, which was funny given she now smelt a lot less like a foot and was the other end of the phone. But this helped spur me on and keep on climbing the beast of a hill. I tell you what, all that climbing was worth it for the descent into town.

In new Norfolk I grabbed an ice cream from the local shop, where I met a fellow cycling frother working behind the counter. The guy there ended up telling me he once rode for 24 hours straight just to see what his body was capable of. This definitely spurred me on and put my negativity in check. I called dad who was with my grandparents and they ended up joining me for the last 10km (on the phone), bringing me into Lachlan. It was here that I made the decision to save some time by sleeping on the park bench in town. It would mean that I would have a much faster pack down for the early start I had in mind for the last day. I was also grateful for the shelter because it rained a fair amount that night. I tucked myself in tried not to overthink what tomorrow would hold, knowing that there was 100km and 2500m elevation left to conquer.

Day 5.

I set my alarm for 6am, and boy did I feel sicky! I slept for a maximum of 3 hours overnight, due to nervousness at what lay ahead, mixed with the fact I was sleeping in a public park in very plain sight. Knowing that I had to get some food down to succeed at today, I took an anti nausea medication and consumed what I could of some more sad porridge.

Now today started uphill and felt like it never ended. I was treated to 6km of fairly well maintained gravel road and then it literally disappeared off the face of the earth. Then what lay ahead was sticky, severely rutted out clay channels that were once driven by cars decades ago. This road was a car graveyard, with carcasses of the fallen strewn along the side of it. The aforementioned ruts were minimum knee high, filled with water and fairly unrelenting. The only break from that was a few sections of 36% uphill gradient. This was the definition of type 2 fun. I was not having the best time during the experience, falling several times straight into the mud. But even writing about it now, I am longing to get back onto Jeffrey’s track and not ride it all over again.

So by 4 hours into today I had ridden a mere 16km, another slow start to the day. And of course this started off the plague of self doubt. There was plenty more ground to cover today if I was going to get this done. I descended down into Judbury and realised that I had nearly burnt through all of the charge on my phone and power bank, and without the map on my phone, I had next to no idea of where I was going.

The Tassie trail is not the easiest to navigate. You’re lucky to find a marker here and there, but it seemed they rarely popped up when you actually needed them. It’s made up of a complex network of old forestry roads, fire trails and sealed roads and relies heavily on having a digital map of some form.

This meant that I would have to endure the next two big climbs without music, and my brain was holding onto that small tool of distraction from discomfort. I ate an old chicken sandwich on the park bench and received another pep talk from Sammy, who I think at this point definitely believed in me more than I did (the angel).

After the refuel and rest, I continued on from Judbury to Geeveston. Now since day one of this trip, when Sammy and I realised how inconvenient bib shorts can be when it comes to peeing, we started to test our ability to pee standing up whilst stretching the leg to one side. Whilst we had convinced ourselves that we���d perfected the technique, we absolutely had not. And it wasn’t until today that I had come to this realisation. So picture this (but not too hard), there I am pedalling, feeling fairly maxed out and leaving it until the last possible second to get off the bike to pee. I disembark and attempt to pull my shorts to the side whilst adopting the required standing position. Flow commences and then almost as quickly, I accidentally let go of the material in my hand. It’s too far gone and this pee is absolutely not stopping for anything. So there I was, half way through the day in essentially a very full adult nappy and I can tell you I was very grateful to be alone at this point (although I know the humour would not have been lost on Sammy).

I continued on, and so did the theme of forestry and walking up steep hills for the day, eventually leading me to Geeveston.

A little pie break in Geeveston at around 4pm filled me with hope, and the realisation that I was very close to the end of the mission. This injected a new (and final) burst of energy into me. Along the trail, about 10km from the end, I came across a lady called Dory embarking on the Tassie trail. Dory had no idea what she was getting herself into (she told me so herself), and was not sure she was going to even enjoy it. What I admired about her was that, although sceptical and a little unprepared, she was giving it a red hot crack, and that’s how my mountain bike got it’s name.

The final descent was the best descent for me. It was an endless down hill, the legs no longer had to do any work and my fate was handed over to gravity. What made it even better was I knew that two of my favourite humans were waiting for me at the end.

What an overwhelming sense of achievement I felt at the end of this epic journey. Mainly because this trail had tested my physical ability, but also my self belief. I know Sammy can relate to this too- my love for bikes became much deeper, and the bar of what I can put my body through is set just that little bit higher after the incredible adventure that was the Tassie Trail.