#might post these more frequently instead of waiting for the end of the week and posting a single batch

[jadevine]

Preindustrial travel, and long explanations on why different distances are like that

Update March 1, 2024: Hey there folks, here's yet another update! I reposted Part 2a (the "medieval warhorses" tangent) to my writing blog, and I went down MORE of the horse-knowledge rabbit hole! https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/741423906984951808/my-post-got-cut-off-so-i-added-the-rest-of-it Update Jan 30, 2024: Hey folks, I've posted the updated version of this post on my blog, so I don't have to keep frantically telling everyone "hey, that's the old version of this post!" https://thebalangay.wordpress.com/2024/01/29/preindustrial-travel-times-part-1/

I should get the posts about army travel times and camp followers reformatted and posted to my blog around the end of the week, so I'll filter through my extremely tangled thread for them.

Part 2 - Preindustrial ARMY travel times: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/739342239113871360/now-for-a-key-aspect-that-many-people-often-ask

Part 2a - How realistic warhorses look and act, because the myth of "all knights were mounted on huge clunky draft horses" just refuses to die: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/732043691180605440/helpful-things-for-action-writers-to-remember

Part 3 - Additional note about camp followers being regular workers AND sex-workers: https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/740604203134828544/reblogging-the-time-looped-version-of-my

--

I saw a post on my main blog about how hiking groups need to keep pace with their slowest member, but many hikers mistakenly think that the point of hiking is "get from Point A to Point B as fast as possible" instead of "spending time outdoors in nature with friends," and then they complain that a new/less-experienced/sick/disabled hiker is spoiling their time-frame by constantly needing breaks, or huffing and puffing to catch up.

I run into a related question of "how long does it take to travel from Point A to Point B on horseback?" a lot, as a fantasy writer who wants to be SEMI-realistic; in the Western world at least, our post-industrial minds have largely forgotten what it's like to travel, both on our own feet and in groups.

People ask the new writer, "well, who in your cast is traveling? Is getting to Point B an emergency or not? What time of year is it?", and the newbies often get confused as to why they need so much information for "travel times." Maybe new writers see lists of "preindustrial travel times" like a primitive version of Google Maps, where all you need to do is plug in Point A and Point B.

But see, Google Maps DOES account for traveling delays, like different routes, constructions, accidents, and weather; you as the person will also need to figure in whether you're driving a car versus taking a bus/train, and so you'll need to figure out parking time or waiting time for the bus/train to actually GET THERE.

The difference between us and preindustrial travelers is that 1) we can outsource the calculations now, 2) we often travel for FUN instead of necessity.

The general rule of thumb for preindustrial times is that a healthy and prime-aged adult on foot, or a rider/horse pair of fit and prime-aged adults, can usually make 20-30 miles per day, in fair weather and on good terrain.

Why is this so specific? Because not everyone in preindustrial times was fit, not everyone was healthy, not everyone was between the ages of 20-35ish, and not everyone had nice clear skies and good terrain to travel on.

If you are too far below 18 years old or too far past 40, at best you will need either a slower pace or more frequent breaks to cover the same distance, and at worst you'll cut the travel distance in half to 10 or so miles. Too much walking is VERY BAD on too-young/old knees, and teenagers or very short adults may just have short legs even if they're fine with 8-10 hours of actual walking. Young children may get sick of walking and pitch a fit because THEY'RE TIREDDDDDDDDDD, and then you might need to stay put while they cry it out, or an adult may sigh and haul them over their shoulder (and therefore be weighed down by about 50lbs of Angry Child).

Heavy forests, wetlands and rocky hills/mountains are also going to be a much shorter "distance" per day. For forests or wetlands, you have to account for a lot of villagers going "who's gonna cut down acres of trees for one road? NOT ME," or "who's gonna drain acres of swamp for one road? NOT ME." Mountainous regions have their traveling time eaten by going UP, or finding a safer path that goes AROUND, so by the time you're done slogging through drier patches of wetlands or squeezing through trees, a deceptively short 10-15 miles in rough terrain might take you a whole day to walk instead of the usual half-day.

If you are traveling in freezing winters or during a rainstorm (and this inherently means you HAVE NO CHOICE, because nobody in preindustrial times would travel in bad weather if they could help it), you run the high risk of losing your way and then dying of exposure or slipping and breaking your neck, just a few miles out of the town/village.

Traveling in TOO-HOT weather is just as bad, because pushing yourself too hard and getting dehydrated at noon in the tropics will literally kill you. It's called heat-STROKE, not "heat-PARTY."

And now for the upper range of "traveling on horseback!"

Fully mounted groups can usually make 30-40 miles per day between Point A and Point B, but I find there are two unspoken requirements: "Point B must have enough food for all those people and horses," and "the mounted party DOESN'T need to keep pace with foot soldiers, camp followers, or supply wagons."

This means your mounted party would be traveling to 1) a rendezvous point like an ally's camp or a noble's castle, or 2) a town/city with plenty of inns. Maybe they're not literally going 30-40 miles in one trip, but they're scouting the area for 15-20 miles and then returning to their main group. Perhaps they'd be going to an allied village, but even a relatively small group of 10-20 warhorses will need 10-20 pounds of grain EACH and 20-30 pounds of hay EACH. 100-400 pounds of grain and 200-600 pounds of hay for the horses alone means that you need to stash supplies at the village beforehand, or the village needs to be a very large/prosperous one to have a guaranteed large surplus of food.

A dead sprint of 50-60 miles per day is possible for a preindustrial mounted pair, IF YOU REALLY, REALLY HAVE TO. Moreover, that is for ONE day. Many articles agree that 40 miles per day is already a hard ride, so 50-60 miles is REALLY pushing the envelope on horse and rider limits.

NOTE: While modern-day endurance rides routinely go for 50-100 miles in one day, remember that a preindustrial rider will not have the medical/logistical support that a modern endurance rider and their horse does.

If you say "they went fifty miles in a day" in most preindustrial times, the horse and rider's bodies will get wrecked. Either the person, their horse, or both, risk dying of exhaustion or getting disabled from the strain.

Whether you and your horse are fit enough to handle it and "only" have several days of defenselessness from severe pain/fatigue (and thus rely on family/friends to help you out), or you die as a heroic sacrifice, or you aren't QUITE fit enough and become disabled, or you get flat-out saved by magic or another rider who volunteers to go the other half, going past 40 miles in a day is a "Gondor Calls For Aid" level of emergency.

As a writer, I feel this kind of feat should be placed VERY carefully in a story: Either at the beginning to kick the plot off, at the climax to turn the tide, or at the end.

Preindustrial people were people--some treated their horses as tools/vehicles, and didn't care if they were killed or disabled by pushing them to their limits, but others very much cared for their horses. They needed to keep them in working condition for about 15-20 years, and they would not dream of doing this without a VERY good reason.

—

UPDATE January 13: Several people have gotten curious and looked at maps, to find out how a lot of cities are indeed spread out at a nice distance of 20-30 miles apart! I love getting people interested in my hyperfixations, lol.

But remember that this is the space between CITIES AND TOWNS. There should never be a 20-mile stretch of empty wilderness between City A and Town B, unless your world explains why folks are able to build a city in the middle of nowhere, or if something has specifically gone wrong to wipe out its supporting villages!

Period pieces often portray a shining city rising from a sea of picturesque empty land, without a single grain field or cow pasture in sight, but that city would starve to death very quickly in preindustrial times.

Why? Because as Bret Devereaux mentions in his “Lonely Cities” article (https://acoup.blog/2019/07/12/collections-the-lonely-city-part-i-the-ideal-city/), preindustrial cities and towns must have nearby villages (and even smaller towns, if large and prosperous enough!) to grow their food for them.

The settlements around a city will usually be scattered a few miles apart from each other, usually clustered along the roads to the city gates. Those villages and towns at the halfway point between cities (say 10-15 miles) are going to be essential stops for older/sick folks, merchants with cargo, and large groups like noble’s retinues and army forces.

Preindustrial armies and large noble retinues usually can’t make it far past 10-12 miles per day, as denoted in my addition to this post. (https://www.tumblr.com/jadevine/739342239113871360/now-for-a-key-aspect-that-many-people-often-ask )

[babeilovemonsters]

You know what? I'm so BORED of big monsters. Okay no, I absolutely love big monsters. Monsters that tower over you. But when I'm in a size kink mood, and I specifically want shorter monsters, absolutely zero content. So you know what? I'm making my own.

I can probably do a bigger post about different types eventually, but today, I want fae.

I want a short fae. A piskie, pixie if you're not Cornish like I am.

They stand at no taller than 1ft, usually only 13 inches, and live mostly in trees. Their skin feels more like scales, similar to the bumpy, rough texture of a bearded dragon, with tiny spikes, and often comes in green, orange, brown, and other such colours, and smoothed down their back is much softer than up towards their head. They have big, pointed ears on the sides of their heads, similar to a deer's in shape, with thin, jagged ends, mimicking that of a leaf. Their wings are also very reminiscent of leaves, but aren't for flying. While their bones are hollow like a bird's, they don't actually fly, but rather glide. That being said, they can hold their air time for quite a long while, travelling up to half a mile with the right height and wind strength. Their claws are sharp and perfect for climbing, and their feet are also similar to a lizard's, so they can still grab on. They have small, wirey thin tails, for keeping balance in the treetops, only reaching to their knees. Their eyes are big, and dark, perfect for spotting little details under the blanket of nighttime. Being omnivores, they have both sharp and flat teeth, similar to a dog's.

Some choose to wear clothing, fashioned out of leaves, ripped fabric, litter, and even wooden armour. But not all find dignity in covers, and so choose not to. This is a respected practice, so long as they keep their sexual deeds private.

Their genitalia is able to be concealed, hidden in their sheathes until horny enough to awaken and slide out on their own. The females are larger than males, and tend to be thicker in muscle mass. Males are smaller, thinner and faster, but not as strong. Thus, females are often the ones in charge. They aren't mammals, and ultimately lack breasts, laying eggs instead. During breeding process, the fucking is normal, until the eggs are fertilised. After the females are successfully bred, they'll wait a few weeks for the eggs to develop enough, before taking down some unfortunate mammal, usually a human. Y'know, cause these fae are cold blooded. They aren't warm enough for the eggs. All the currently pregnant females deposit their eggs via an organ reminiscent of a female hyena (if you know, you know), and keep this incubator nearby, before either letting them go or eating them when the job is done. Depends on how they feel.

Because of this, it's not uncommon for female fae to fall in love with the human. But it IS uncommon for the males to. The males don't really have a need for the human. But you know how it is. Maybe they just get curious, or have a human kink. They're not instinct driven animals, they're people too. They might just like humans. Hell, the human doesn't even have to be the incubator for a fae to fall in love! They might fall for someone who frequents the woods quite often. Maybe the human feeds the wildlife, or plants flowers in the trees. Maybe they bring their dog(s) every day, and the fae find it cute. Everyone has their individual reasoning.

Personally? I wouldn't wanna be an incubator. Sounds hot in concept, but realistically thinking, I wouldn't be very comfortable. But I'd love to feel a gaze on me in the woods. It starts very slightly, probably just a squirrel or bird, I think. But then I start getting that feeling more intensely. Sometimes the feeling follows me. Sometimes it starts the moment I enter the woods, like something was waiting for me in those trees. Sometimes I'd notice little flowers or berries put in specific patterns on the path ahead, always the same exact paths I take every day. I'd start leaving gifts in return, like little ribbons, or beads. I'd start noticing them delicately placed on the branches in decoration, and keep the collection going.

I just think it'd be nice. Having something wait for me every day.

However, piskies do tend to stay in 'packs'. I say packs lightly, as they are on the same wavelength as humans, probably moreso, and some aren't comfortable being compared to an animal. Sensitive topic. But point is, they stick together. You'd REALLY need to be someone special to have one leave it's family to accompany you, though definitely expect requests to visit.

Fae are smart. Incredibly smart. It'd find ways to get around, especially as small as they are. Maybe it'd hide in your bag? Or in the hood of a baggy jumper? Maybe it'd sneak alongside, hiding in the trees and bushes near the path, while keeping an ear out for your breathing and footsteps in order to navigate your location. In your house, perhaps it'd hide in the walls when company is around, giving nothing more than flash of mystery and wonder to your guests as they catch the slightest glimpse. It'd find ways to hide, while never really leaving your side. They are incredibly loyal, after all.

Most, but not all, piskies are asexual. They're not very sex focused. Of course, some are definitely kinkier than others, and they do get sexual pleasure, physically. Some are comfortable with the idea. Some are indifferent. Some are very much against it. But sex is rarely their first instinct. It's mostly food or games. This means you would probably have to initiate something. They'd do their absolute best, of course! But it can be difficult for something of their size to really do a good job. They weren't exactly built to satisfy monsterfuckers of other species. Maybe sex isn't their forte. You can definitely work with it! Some are wonders with their tongues, such long and agile muscles usually used for licking honey out of beehives, while others have more joy in using their hands and arms to reach in and drag their nails delicately across the insides.

But hey. If you can get a fae to love and trust you that much, you can do what you want with it. Cuddle, play, fuck... Just make sure your fae is comfy, and they'll never want to leave.

Hey, isn't it supposed to be the other way around? Damn, treetop piskies are pathetic, huh?

[chippedchina-teacup]

Summary: Lunch with Sirius is never as much fun as it is with Regulus.

Word Count: 2,817

Warnings: Drinking, Sirius is still an ass, cheating is briefly mentioned, an ongoing affair between Regulus and reader, Sirius being judgmental

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A/N: Late again! I promise I don't mean for things to end up being posted a week late, I've just had a crazy few weeks. I did have a bit of free time at work yesterday, and I set up my writing/editing/posting schedule for the next year or so, which means that I can tell you that sometime around the end of May I'm planning on hopefully opening request for shorter fics and one shots.

Happy reading,

Elinor

Sirius had reluctantly shown up at the restaurant (Y/N) had asked him to meet her at, plopped himself down at the bar, and promptly ordered himself a glass of whiskey, he wished he hadn’t shown up at all. By the time (Y/N) arrived, that wish was being made spectacularly obvious. He leveled a stormy glare at (Y/N) as she smoothed her pencil skirt and sat down in the wooden chair her back to the wall. The large graphic floral print Sirius had been staring at from across the restaurant for the past fifteen minutes or so as he sat at the bar was, he could see now that he was sitting so much closer, was the same one he vaguely remembers seeing a photo of on the front page of (Y/N)’s paper. He wondered if she came here frequently, or if it had been suggested by someone from work.

One of the waitresses, a pretty girl with red hair and an anxious air about her, hurried over to take her order. Giving the menu a cursory glance, (Y/N) offered a kind smile at the waitress, waiting for her to take out her notepad and pen, “I’ll have the harvest salad,” she paused giving the her a chance jot down her order, “and if you could have the kitchen switch the candied walnuts for the pecan praline, that would be perfect.” The waitress nodded, sent a slightly guilty smile in (Y/N)’s direction, and narrowed her eyes ever so slightly at Sirius’s smirk as he raised his whisky to his lips.

“That should be no problem, ma’am,” the girl responded, glancing up as she finished writing, “Anything to drink?”

“Sparkling water,” (Y/N) offered an encouraging smile to the waitress, who turned her attention back to Sirius where he was sitting rolling his eyes melodramatically. That answered that question, then, she came here at least somewhat often. He couldn’t really be surprised by it either, the restaurant they were in was exactly the kind of place (Y/N) would frequent.

Not even bothering to look at the menu, Sirius took a long drink from his glass, draining it of its contents, the ice clacking against his teeth, and gave the waitress an obvious once over. He might have tried something with her after lunch, but she had already seen him with his lovely fiancée, and the glare she had sent him when she recognized that he was the one flirting with the bartender earlier…there was no way he could see it working out, even for a couple of hours. Instead he turned his attention back to her unasked question, noting with a smirk (Y/N)’s raised brow and obvious annoyance with him. Long gone was the faux affection she had forced at their engagement party.

“Fish n’ chips, love,” he ordered, knowing it would likely annoy the woman sitting across from him. It was a staple he knew would be available, but it was also probably the least interesting thing he could have ordered. One of the many things Sirius remembered from the few years spent together at Hogwarts had been exactly how much (Y/N) loved food. She never wanted to pass up the opportunity to have a new and exciting culinary experience, and during school, she and Regulus would often explore muggle London, Galway, Dublin, Cornwall – anywhere the pair had heard there might be something new to try. So of course Sirius order fish and chips, it was just one more way he could aggravate (Y/N).

Swirling the ice in his glass, Sirius caught the waitress’s attention just before she could walk away to give the kitchen the orders, “And another one of these, too,” glancing briefly at (Y/N), Sirius could see her rubbing her temples trying to stave off a likely very quickly approaching migraine from being in his presence. “I seem to have run out.” He smirked at the waitress once more, a pang of guilt in his chest at the sight of (Y/N)’s obvious exhaustion.

Once upon a time Sirius and his friends had dubbed her the ‘Ice Queen’ after she had been caught in the crosshairs of a prank that had been meant for Snivilus in his fifth year. Even at just eleven years old, (Y/N) had had the grace and countenance of someone much older. Her eyes were like ice as she glared at them from where they stood in the middle of the hallway, her black and green Slytherin robes drenched in a combination of pondwater from the Black Lake, and frogspawn that James had somehow managed to sneak back into Hogwarts with during their last unsanctioned trip to Hogsmeade. It was at that precise moment, when her eyes met his, that Sirius felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room – when he knew he was going to fall in love with her. And then he did exactly that. Not simply from the stories Regulus would tell at the dinner table when prompted by their mother, their father fighting a smirk behind his whiskey.

There was something about (Y/N) – something that would have the whole world eating out of the palm of her hand if she had wanted. It was something that was so distinctly Slytherin, and yet he wasn’t put off by it in the way he probably should have been.

He didn’t wonder at that moment if she held the same despicable values as his family, he didn’t wonder if her family was like his, and he didn’t wonder why she was friends with his brother and Snivilus. He was four, nearly five, years older, a Gryffindor, her best friend’s estranged older brother – he had been kicked out of his parent’s house less than two years later, and watched from afar as his younger brother and the girl he had no business being in love with became friends – became more than friends, dancing around their feelings for each other in the complicated web of deceit and unchecked ambition they both thrived in.

None of this had stopped his heart from skipping a beat and the world around him from freezing in place when he saw her.

But, because he was him, and (Y/N) was (Y/N), and his brother – his too perfect younger brother, the one he had abandoned to the cruel machinations of their mother – was still his brother, he couldn’t stomach the idea of telling her all this, of pouring his heart out to her in some abandoned hallway and having her scoff at his confession, of laughing at him and telling him to fuck off, or placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, smiling that kind smile he had never associated with Slytherin and telling him she was in love with Regulus. It was this final idea, perhaps the cruelest and most likely of them all, that would have broken him beyond repair.

So he didn’t say anything.

He spent years, pining after her. Feeling like a fool as every relationship crumbled to ash, and he fell further and further into the familiar comforting embrace of the bottle. It was perhaps the only time he had understood his father – it was easier to forget your demons when you could hardly remember your own name, but the thing about demons is that they are always there, waiting for you.

In those years Sirius had spent pining after the only woman he could never have, he lost his job “Get some help Sirius,” his sergeant had said, calling him into his office, “I can’t have you drinking on the job,”, he’d turned in his badge then, walked out of the station, and gone straight to the nearest bar. When word had reached his mother, she had shown up at his apartment and had a fit. She screamed for hours about how he was disgracing the family name. Eventually she had gotten a strange look on her face and left.

When his mother had once again shown up to his apartment  for the second time he had been passed out on the sofa, clutching an almost empty bottle of cheap pineapple rum – the bottle was plastic, and the cheapest thing at the liquor store and tasted like it, he hadn’t much cared either way. Walburga had wrinkled her nose in disgust and zapped him, her lips had twitched with amusement as he had jumped up spilling the rest of the contents of the bottle over himself as he tripped over his own feet.

“Sirius,” Walburga scoffed, rolling her eyes, “Get up,” her eyes narrowed as she realized he was only half dressed “put your trousers on,”

“What?” Sirius ran a hand through the tangled mess of dark curls on his head, grimacing at the headache pounding at his temples. Walburga gritted her teeth, seething at the state of her eldest son – it was a disgrace to the noble and ancient house of Black for him to conduct himself in such a way.

“You heard me, Sirius,” Walburga fought the urge to hex him, if he was anything like his father, and she highly suspected he was exactly like Orion in this particular matter, doing so would get her nowhere with him in his current state.

---

Of all the things Walburga could have told him that morning – had it been morning? It very well could have been late afternoon with the way things had been going – that he would be married to the woman he had loved from afar since he was fifteen; a woman who couldn’t stand him – who likely resented his very existence at this point – was far from what he expected. This woman, (Y/N), whom he had humiliated in public during a party that was meant to showcase their relationship, to showcase how well matched they are – a laughable idea, to the 28. A woman who was very much in love with his younger brother – who had had him entranced from the moment he first saw her – was the woman he was engaged to and here he was nearly never sober and in the arms of a different woman every night. As his heart lurched in his chest, her stumbled his way to the kitchen sink, ignoring his mother as he passed her, turned on the tap and bent his head to get a drink before harshly turning the water off and grabbing a half full bottle of bourbon he’d left on the counter at some point in the last week.

The guilt he felt immediately after calling her a bigot, seeing her freeze before being escorted out of the room, the fire in his brother’s eyes, it had been paralyzing. Only a few moments before, they had looked, to the clueless outside observer, like the perfectly happy couple they weren’t. Two people who actually wanted to be together, and he, in his drunken state, had said the stupidest thing he could have ever said.

His mother had been about ready to kill him right then and there and had her hopes for the Black family not rested primarily on Sirius and (Y/N) getting married, she would have. And in that moment, he wouldn’t have done a thing to stop her.

Claire, his future sister-in-law and a fellow Gryffindor born into a family of  Slytherins, had, in fact, tried to kill him, two grown men struggling to hold her back as she struggled against their grasp, arms stretched outward as she attempted to claw at his face, before being knocked out by a well-placed charm from Anne, who had resorted to grabbing her wand to calm her younger daughter when her son’s grip on the young girl’s arm had begun to slip.

Neither Kieran nor Regulus had been particularly keen on holding Claire back, and the two exchanged a brief look when her body went limp like a ragdoll between them. Regulus shifted the young girl’s weight into his arms and disappeared up the stairs, one of the maids following. Sirius didn’t see when his brother came back down the stairs – he did remember thinking that his brother seemed so at home, so at ease, in this house with these people.

When Joseph and Orion had dragged him into the study, where his father had yelled and screamed and threatened to hex him to oblivion for the next few hours, Joseph remained sitting, calmly and quietly, behind his desk, his eyes reminding him of (Y/N)’s as he kept his breathing perfectly under control.

Sirius had felt like he was sixteen again, being scolded like a misbehaved child. The only difference was that his mother had not been the one doing the threatening.

He didn’t quite know if he should be glad Walburga wasn’t in the room or not. The pain she likely would have inflicted might have been a somewhat welcome, albeit incredibly painful, distraction from his own agonizing guilt at having humiliated (Y/N) in such a horrible way.

He remembered hearing his mother in the parlor clearing the room of any guests that had remained behind at the spectacle, and Anne, he knew, had escorted her daughter away to somewhere else in the house. The look of mortification and hurt in her eyes the only thing his alcohol-muddled mind would allow him to focus on.

---

For the past few months, Sirius had been trying his goddamned best to forget what he had done. Nothing had worked, not even his usual philandering and drinking had worked to dull the memories of what he’d done – what he continued to do.

On the nights when he couldn’t sleep, the nights when it didn’t matter how much he drank or who he fucked or how many packs of cigarettes he smoked, the only thing he could think of then, were her eyes.

Her eyes had been like ice in school, something Sirius now knew she had inherited from her father, but they had still been bright and full of life. That last time he saw (Y/N), on the train with his brother and Snivilus, they had held a spark of mischief as she laughed and smiled and joked with her friends, making plans for the summer and planning where they would all go for the school holiday and when and where they would meet. 

When he had seen (Y/N) across the great hall during meals she had always been happy, smiling brightly and engaged in some passionate debate with Snivilus about potions or the dark arts – her interest in the later subject, Sirius later learned from Lily, having far more to do with the defense against such things than the practice of them – or with Regulus about charms or wandless magic – something the two of them excelled at – or the history of it and how muggles attributed certain things to certain myths, and her eyes had sparkled.

Sirius was brought out of his reverie by the quiet thunk of plates being placed on the table. (Y/N) had paused in whatever it was she had been saying as the waitress placed the food down, and then the drinks. Nodding at her in acknowledgement that they had everything they needed for now, and placed her napkin neatly across her lap, just as she had been raised to do.

“As I was saying,” (Y/N) continued not caring, or not noticing, Sirius’s look of bewilderment, “I’ve set up an appointment at the Ministry,” she paused, taking a sip of the sparkling water in front of her, “you never told me if next Thursday will work for you, but whether we need to reschedule or not, you need to be there on time.” Sirius shook his head, and blinked rapidly, confused, and still slightly spaced out.

“What?” he asked dumbly and immediately cursed himself for not paying closer attention to what she had been saying.

Sighing, (Y/N) pulled her agenda out of her handbag, “I was saying,” she placed the small leatherbound book on the table between them, flipping to the page where she had written down the details for something in the margins, her delicate script scrawled neatly across the page in incomprehensible lists of letters and words that meant nothing to him, even as she flipped the agenda around for him so that the words were no longer upside down.

“I was saying that I have an assignment the week of our original appointment at the ministry,” she pointed out the calendar on the next page with the end of her pen, “and the next week, we have the last appointment with the florist about the flower arrangements.” She ran her pen down the page, coming to a stop at the word florist, while Sirius’s attention was stolen away by something else.

In the column next to the one denoting the appointment (Y/N) had meant for him to see, were three words that sent his heart plummeting.

Date Night - Regulus.

Sirius gestured to a passing waitress, “I need another drink.”

Taglist: @bleepeats-15 , @corawithfanfiction

[jameselroy]

hey, is that SEAN TEALE i saw going for a walk in SOUTHSIDE? no, it’s just JAMES ELROY, a THIRTY year old UNEMPLOYED ARMY VET from CHICAGO.  HE/HIM identifies as CIS MALE and BISEXUAL. they seem DETERMINED and FORGETFUL, always reminding me of calloused hands from playing the drums, records piled up in the corners, and forgotten mugs of coffee. they’re most frequently seen at CLOCKTOWER RECORDS going on about JAZZ MUSIC AND TALKING ABOUT ALL SORTS OF MUSIC and that’s okay because it’s been their thing for TWENTY YEARS. you’re going to love them! 

Bio: (tw army, injury, medical, foster care, adoption, drugs, anxiety)

James and his sibling were born to a mother that was much too young. The only thing she cared abut was her boyfriend of the week and where she would be getting her next hit from. By the time James was four, him and his sibling were placed into foster care. While they were younger, the two of them were put into the same homes but one day when James was five, they were ushered into different cars. James' last glimpse of them was when the car he was in pulled away, never seeing them again. Finally at the age of nine, James was adopted. His new family stayed in Chicago before moving to Coyote Valley when he was ten years old. The one thing that kept James sane during his childhood was music. He stared to collect old records and even took to playing the drums, which he was incredibly good at. Playing in the school jazz band all four years of high school. There was no doubt that James wanted to make music his career and soon after high school, he was enrolled in college to study music composition and percussion. However, as he went into his second year, James began to doubt himself, and without telling anyone, he dropped out. Enlisting in the army instead. James was great in the army and for the first time in a long time, he felt like he belonged somewhere. And he would go on to serve a total of eight years before deciding it was time to get out and see what else the world had to offer. However, luck was not on his side, and just a few mere weeks before James was supposed to get out, his troop was ambushed on a mission. James had been too close to the explosion and was severely injured, for a brief stint of time, they weren't even for sure if he was going to make it or not. He spent a month and a half in a hospital overseas, waiting until he was stable enough to be flown back to Coyote Valley. And once he was, James spent over another month in the local hospital for both his injuries and for rehab. For the most part he was okay, however, he was diagnosed with a TBI. The TBI does affect his memory quite a bit. Causing him to forget things here and there- which always seems to a be a gamble of what he might remember one day to the next. There is also quite a bit of PTSD and anxiety that has resulted from not only his accident but his time serving overall. James has been back in town for four months now and spent a few weeks couch surfing between friends before answering an ad that Pru was looking for a roommate. Now he's trying his best to just find some sense of what his new normal is like. Between navigating his injury and trying to find his way back to who he used to be. Or well, who he might be now.

Misc

Has quite the vinyl record collection, most of it being old jazz and swing music. Which is what he prefers to listen to over more modern day stuff. Also very much so into The Beatles.

Used to play baseball and soccer in high school and still loves to watch them on tv. With the hopes of making it to a game or two at some point.

Probably drinks way too many cups of coffee but then often forgets where he placed his cup, which ends up with him making another cup and before he knows it, there's three cups of half drank coffee sitting around his and Pru's place.

Swears by post it notes- It's the easiest way for him to try and remind himself of things and sticks them around the house. It's truly how he's able to make it through most days.

His balance is also slightly affected by his brain injury and tends to trip over a flat surface.

A very mellow and laid back and easy going guy, even if he tends to be a bit anxious from time to time.

If he sees a dog on the street, you better bet that James is going to stop and pet it.

Wanted connections

Ex partner/fiancé: The two of them were high school sweet hearts and dated on and off. They continued to date while James was in the army and he even could have proposed at some point as well. They intended to get married once James was done serving however, once James was stateside and they got wind of what was wrong with James, they called everything off. The how and why is something that can be plotted out and if there might be any chance to save their relationship or not. Sibling/Half Sibling: The two of them were place into foster care together but when James was five, the two of them were separated and it was the last they had seen of one another. Exes Friends/Unlikely friends Army Buddies Music buddies (maybe a band together???) Neighbors Friends/exes who ended on bad terms Give me all the things!

[phantasinsomnia]

⟢ THE PHANTASMS

learn more about us deceased . come inside , dear wanderer .

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ ❪ 則 ❫ BEFORE YOU INTERACT . . .

「 preludio 」 DULZURA ── although i am admittedly rather formal and tend to stray from using childish terminology , i will act out at times with those i consider close friends . you may spot brainrot , along with other silly ways of acting when i am around said users . in general , don't hold me to one personality . i can be childlike and teasing with those i am close , and i will be formal with those i wish . if you cannot tolerate silliness , please see yourself out .

「 danza 」 LENTITUD ── be polite . i may be frequently online , but that does not mean that i am actively working on requests often . if you place an order , do be mindful that you must be willing to wait . at times , i will deliver orders quickly . waiting time may range from minutes , to hours , to days , and maybe even weeks in the worst case scenario . on top of that , i am a bit of a procrastinator , admittedly , so that does not help .

「 interludio 」 PACIENCIA ── if you wish to become mutuals or friends , it is suggested you reach out via DMs . i do try my best to keep in touch with all who wish to be my friends , so if you have a desire to know my socials , i can answer you in DMs . of course , it should go without say that neither party should be obligated to say yes . if i find you to be problematic , a nuisance , or too involved with drama , i will refrain from interacting too much with you . please respect my choice .

「 merengue 」 ESCAPISMO ── i do not wish to involve myself in drama . not yours , not anyone's . unless the drama you are bringing involves me directly on a personal level or affects the community , do not drag me into your troubles . i will not be a mediator because you find yourself between a rock and a hard place . please respect my choice and do not thrust me into problems .

「 fin 」 DOMINIO ── i am here simply to post graphics and to have a silly , fun time . at the end of the day , don't be a bothersome nuisance and we'll get along perfectly fine . if you don't agree with the set rules , simply wander away into another blog .

DO NOT INTERACT

⌗ if . . .

you are anti-LGBTQ+ . reasonably simple and self-explanatory . if you hold hatred towards this community , please see yourself out . i am an ally of the community and if you fit into this criteria , i will soft-block you .

you are racist . self-explanatory . i will block you if i find you to fit into this criteria .

you are a pedophile , a zionist , xenophobe , a proshipper , or support any of these . please , i do not wish to interact with anyone who supports or belongs in this category . i will block you .

you are here to simply hate and judge . i am not here to be belittled because my style does not fit your tastes or please them . if you do not like my work , bite your tongue and don't be rude . additionally , i block freely and reserve my right to block if i deem you a nuisance instead of just telling you off like i might otherwise .

credits to @ianrkives for the divider . the phantasms observe all .

[licially]

Inflammable Devotion. [Lucaby]

// A random angst fic for @blogplutocrat's Lucaby, I finally decided to post it on here after some consideration. Be warned, it is quite corny and the ending is lacklustre at best.

From whence the fire started, burned down the house. The fire raged forth and forth came a frantic and exhausted figure, screaming out something lost to the rage. The overheating of such magnitude had her scrambling through the household, her heels nowhere to be seen as the planks beneath her increased in heat. The middle of the clock tower boasted no hiding place, and if there is it’s highly improbable he’d be anywhere above. Right?

“Rocky?! ROARK?!!” 

Her shouts, briefly interrupted by the smog that acted second hand to her already blurring vision, as she reduced to more a crouch in hopes of finding him. 

Wherever he may be.

Her voice strained, on the verge of a meltdown, as she continued calling out for her lover’s response. She’d been knowing of this place ever since childhood: a core memory of her first times being friends during a service where Rocky and Freckle met Lola by complete accident.

They’d been regularly meeting up here every week ever since they both ran into each other, and it’s where they’d share everything: secrets about their families, occasional sad times with one another, hugs and kisses from both of them alike, laughter and, sometimes, anger. Throughout it all, after the church was left abandoned, they’d be here at all times, a gentle reminder of the origins of their relationship.

Now it’s nothing but an effigy of their past selves, and soon to be a murderer and funeral.

She stared back at the familiar window, where she had spent half her lifetime sitting - singing tunes and waiting for him - and found it blocked by the rubble that ripped out from above it. Her one reliable way in and out of the tower is now blocked.

The other exit? Around a burning hole in the floor and straight out of the front door where a staircase would be. One that led to the top, and somewhat frequently visited by the two as they traveled up the tower and looked out of the windows towards St. Louis, or by the farmlands that stretched into the never-ending horizons, or towards the sunset.

She precariously tiptoed her want through the lukewarm floorboards, watching out for anything that would endanger her life on the floor. 

Yet she didn’t see a falling support beam that fell over her head.

She didn’t see it coming, nor did she expect it.

Nor did she expect Rocky to hold up the wooden stick of fire, as she gazed at a daze.

“GO MS DELUCA!”

The enigmatic knight in shining armor screamed through her quiet admiration, as he held it for long enough for her to run towards the exit: a straightforward path towards the light from the outside, only made clear from the vast contrast of the blast furnace of the interior.

However, she wasn’t letting him go just yet. Despite the heat and the already collapsing infrastructure she didn’t want to lose Rocky over something that can be more disposable than his life. She stood back, amidst the flames, and grabbed onto Rocky’s fur as his other arm that was holding up the beam soon found its fabric burning.

“WE CAN GO TOGETHER, C’MON!”

She yelled, the building shaking with every second passing. It seems the higher roof is bound to collapse any time soon.

This time Rocky didn’t resist, and instead made a run for it alongside Lola as the two chased each other out of the ensuing fireball that was burning. A million thoughts and prayers passed through her head in an instant, looking up for anything that can protect them from anything that might disrupt their chances of escaping this hell.

As they kept running, Rocky without his jacket and shoes given that they both caught on fire, Lola slowed down a little because of her overexposure to the smog, causing her to cough as a reaction from the pollution from ashes as Rocky soon reached the start of the staircase. 

He looked back, seeing Lola struggling to keep up with him. He felt a wave of heat and anxiety overcome him, as he needed the both of them out of that place. The creaking continued, as he sprinted into action immediately. 

He reached back to Lola, and with an inaudible ‘excuse me’ exhaled, carried her like a bride towards the exit. The fire reached an ultimatum, as the bell’s distant chime soon thundered down a wreckage of death and destruction. Its collapse soon sent another wave of dust blooming in every direction, as the duo quickly ran out the door into the open air. 

Soon it was a run for survival, as they ran back out of the residence, behind the wooden fences that stood between it and the road that led them back home, and through a big clearing towards the left side.

They both breathed a huge sigh of relief.

Death couldn’t catch up to their one life.

Yet it feels like all eight other lives have been lost.

The flames amidst the tower of inferno burned down, as the night sky sundered by the crackles and illuminating the very fabrics. One of such was time, as for the other was a duo of scared cats running away to save themselves from a demise they wasted all eight of their lives on.

The bright yellow cat, reduced by the flames, exhausted by the stamina, roughed around the edges more than the support beams of the tower, had seen what the afterlife had to offer. Lola had barely escaped the chaos with some quick thinking from both her and her fiance; Rocky. From a slanted hill, slightly facing the church, they both sat there. One unconsciously doing so, the other silently watching.

She didn’t know what to do anymore.

This place: 

All of its memories, 

All of its intricacy, 

All of their lives.

Everything they’d built together; a smile, a slight nudge, silent laughing and crying, an embrace, a dance amidst the chaos.

Reduced to a point of no return.

She didn’t have much to fear, yet her one and only fear kicked itself alight after a mishap with a candle. She needn’t blame the person responsible, and she cannot blame the architecture of this abandoned church after it’s been desecrated for years after the churchgoers moved out of this quaint town.

She heard the roars of the fire even from afar. Although damp, it was still a death scream.

The church bell soon finally hit the ground for one last time.

The same dull tone that they’ve accustomed themselves to after meeting there for so long.

Now ringing out something that dissolved into the charred scars of the past

She aimlessly stared at Rocky, her charred hands brushing against his hair. 

Past all of the time she had been sitting outside, watching the scattered embers dance, she had been trying and trying to get Rocky to wake up. So far, everything had little to no effect, and it only made worse by her emotional state.

She had two definitions of everything, and both laid in front of them; one ablaze, the other presumably unconscious.

Feared dead.

She hasn’t heard anything from him.

She leaned closer to him to see if anything pointed to a sign of life: breathing, a pulse, or a response.

She held her hand over his nose, to see if anything faint was picking up. Knowing him, he was a silent sleeper. A complete 180 from his destructive behavior and oftentimes explosive personality. 

Yet here he’s making no such notion towards any of those. Even back at the burning tower, he had a look of fear in his eyes.

A fear uncontested by his fearlessness.

A fear that overtook his line of thinking.

A fear, whose lethal potency finally absorbed itself through to Lola as she soon felt nothing blowing against her finger.

“Rocky?”

She felt her words vanish into her emotions again, as she moved onto the second sign of life that she knew about: his pulse. 

Her hopes dwindled further and further, he tended to be the person who got himself into much, much more trouble than he could handle on his own. On a daily basis, he’d be back rarely with his entire suit intact, save for whatever he had on him at the time. They’d gone through about three violins together already, about 30-40 jackets, and 20 odd hats, the latter of which was painful to try to find a person willing to recreate that hat. She still held hope that he’d be safe from his business’ multiple red flags and subsequent dangers, and without fail he’d be back in her arms safe and sound. 

Yet today that faith was tested.

She leaned closer towards his chest, his shirt dirtied and scratched from the fire.

Her left ear lowered to mask the sounds of the crackles as she pressed her other ear against his chest. Even through all of the troubles, it felt soft. It felt like a home outside of home, it felt like an uninterrupted cool breeze on a hot day. 

Even now, she could still feel that sense of everything. She hoped that ‘everything’ would be the same.

She heard nothing.

No rhythm in his heart. No life.

Nothing.

She hesitated in a moment of dread. 

Her thinking of hope turned into a sea of what-ifs. What if she left this place sooner? What if she never pulled him back here at all, thus saving his life and hers? 

Then, the tears came rushing out.

Her sobbing, masked by the still ongoing embers from beyond, took her towards the point of no return. She’d been everything towards him, and he’s been everything she had hoped for. Her entire life ran itself through her mind as she weeped and sobbed onto Rocky, still laying there facing up into the partly cloudy skies. 

She hugged him, as she sobbed louder and louder. Her nose became stuffed, as she held him closer to her and clinged onto any sort of life from him at all. Even though it didn’t seem like any was there to begin with.

Bewildered, her head began to spin from all of the loud crying.

She felt her body exhaust all life into it, she pleaded to anything that could save her from this nightmare. She didn’t want to be alone yet again, she never wanted it. 

Why did she have to think of such an idea?

Why did she pull him back here to begin with, even though they’d both moved on from this place as a whole?

Her world began to spin. Her headache had been creeping up and down ever since they made it outside, but it was made worse and worse.

Why? Why? All of these whys and what ifs, all of her sobbing, all of it.

They unite, in grief.

She stopped. It felt like… a weight was lifted off of her somehow. 

Her eyes remained closed, yet…

She can’t hear the fire anymore. The winds– seeming stopped.

Her hands seemed to be holding to Rocky still, right?

Reluctant, yet still shaking, she opened her eyes.

“Ms Deluca?”

Rocky soon met her eyes, very much alive and confused, in a room far from any fire, nor any grass field. He was far from anything, far from dead. The room was lit unevenly by a window, towards her left, and the birds outside soon chimed into her hearing instead of the haunting fire.

She looked down, soon realizing they were both in pajamas and that she kept holding onto Rocky, in the same position she had held him in that dream. She let go of him, slightly embarrassed and more confused than anything. How did she wind up back here? Why was she in a whole different… place?

“You’ve… held onto me and cried for an hour straight. I’m getting worried about you. Are you… alright?”

She put her hands on his face, just a bit less confused than before but she was blissful. She was relieved she got to see him again. 

“I… I’m sorry.”

She choked slightly, and embraced him again. This time, softly, and more quietly as her hopeful flame burned on. 

[count-von-kit]

A friend of mine calls it "drop everything and read".

For the last two weeks I decided to do this thing where, because of how stressful work has been, once I clock out at the end of my shift I mentally clock out as well. I work from home, so I stare at a computer from 8-5 doing data entry. I am also a writer, so add in the additional time of staring at my non-working computer from 5pm up through 11pm or sometimes even midnight. It's not entirely kind on the eyes, but also my attention span scattered quicker than the little dust sprites from Spirited Away. Between that and the frequent writer's block I decided to do something a friend of mine calls "drop everything and read".

I know the benefits of reading, especially as a writer. But I remember I was already apprehensive because it made me feel alone and isolated. In some instances it also felt like I was forcing that loneliness onto myself and using it as a not so great way to escape, as I once told my therapist. It felt obligatory and forced when I was doing it earlier this year - like I was doing it because "well everyone else is busy, so I guess I'll do this instead of sitting around waiting". But this time around I didn't feel that way. It was something I genuinely wanted to do. I genuinely wanted to experiment on myself, and make note of the changes. For context, in some cases my work gets to be stressful to where I have an inability to disconnect, and because of how I grew up it becomes extremely difficult for me to detach from such things at an emotional level and it kind of ruins the whole evening or weekend for me. I don't like to vent to my friends often, so most of that emotional distress gets bottled up. I decided in that instance that once I clocked out of work and tended to my household chores I would drop everything and read. From when I finish my chores right up through bedtime. You could view that as roughly 5-6 hours worth of reading time. My cat was very much a fan of me doing this because he likes to lay beside me, so there were very few cons when I decided, "Fuck it. Let's do this."

Far as results go, last week I noticed great benefits to my mood. Nothing shocking about that. This week, while I wasn't so lucky in the mood department, I was able to still feel accomplished in some degree. From Monday through Friday last week, and Monday and Tuesday of this week, I plowed through books 1-5 of MDZS [the core story, not counting the extra chapters]. Five books in a span of seven days. I found the only real downside was that I couldn't stop thinking of all the characters when I went to bed, and in some cases it made it difficult for when I wanted to daydream about my own stories. But as far as everything else went it left me feeling a bit better. I mean, outside of getting brushed off at work I did have the urge to sit down and work on my story. So that already shows me what I was trying to gain from my experiment.

I haven't noticed much else as far as if it has necessarily helped with lifting my frequent bout of writer's block. Normally I try to draft things by hand because I find myself too distracted at my personal computer which only adds to my struggles. But what I did notice is the will to write returning to me along with a kindling of inspiration. I feel nurtured in some way because of this. So as I gradually continue with this I am hoping to at some point finish more to my story and/or start posting my fantasy project. I guess we'll see where August takes me. Sometimes it's necessary to just give a middle finger to all the happenings and life, and drop everything to simply read. Work might be shit at times, but it cannot keep my from reading about my gays.

[parasaparaluman]

Love Story

March is now over and so is our prenup shoot. But guess what, we're far from over from being busy. Laira and I work hand-in-hand in working through our remaining pre-requisities for our wedding and for our honeymoon in Palawan. This is good stress though as we're enjoying that we're building our memories together.

Now that it's April, we have just celebrated our last anniversary as girlfriend and boyfriend while we'll be celebrating my birthday this weekend. Our anniversary went great - we used the spa voucher that was given to us by the parents of one of Laira's students. It was a "premium" experience as we're given a private couple room complete with a shower area and a.. wait for it.. jacuzzi. Yes, that's right. I've been longing for a jacuzzi ever since especially when I didn't get to experience one in La Bella due to fatigue post-shoot. What's surprising though is since it's right after a massage, the water in the jacuzzi has to be hot but unfortunately, it was too hot for us to really enjoy it.

Was the experience worth it based on the price you paid for it? Probably. If you rarely go to spas and you wanted the full experience then I guess the price is justified. But if you frequent spas such as Nuat Thai or call in a home service and don't mind an oily body after the session, then it will just fall under a good experience that we might never try again unless offered by someone else.

I'd like to compare this to our ever-favorite, Ace Water Spa. For just around 6000, you'll already have 2 entries in the spa, a hotel room, a breakfast buffet for two and if my memory serves me right, 2 500-peso voucher that you can use at their rooftop resto-bar or at their cafe. So between this and The Spa, I might be comfortable saving up for Ace Water Spa instead - you'll get the whole day for you to do whatever you want at their premises (nearby as well) rather than being limited just for ~2 hours.

We were supposed to eat at Modern Shanghai due to good reviews but as we've already eaten Chinese food in TuanTuan on our exact anniversary day, we've opted for CIBO but seeing later on that most of the reviews mentions that it's overrated and expensive, we ended at Banapple as they're now offering a smaller serving of their delectable ribs. We also went back to Toby's Estate but sadly, I mistakenly ordered the wrong drink. It was a Chai Chocolate - it has ginger which while is "okay" for me, it was not a fun drink at all.

We strolled around SM Megamall afterwards hoping to finally purchase my wedding shoes but after a few realizations such as a hard-shelled shoes can be a bit uncomfortable depending on the thickness of the socks you're wearing as well as on how you walk, I decided to do a bit more research rather than jump the gun that day.

This week, we'll be dining at Senor Pollo again after so many years (this is the restaurant we ate on our very first date) and try to check if there are Rastaclats still in Landmark. As for the Omniverse Museum, I missed their 4.4 sale that will supposedly save us 1000. Here's to checking again on what other activities that we can do around the area.

There's so much more in store for this month. We'll also be having a get together with my cousins in BGC to try some good ramen and meet with Laira's family prior to the wedding.

Bring it, April.

[originalpackersandmoversblog]

Going to a Different City? Methods for Arranging Free Moving Cartons for Relocation Let's face it:

Moving is not as inexpensive as it appears. The price of your move varies depending on various factors. On the top is the distance and another is the family merchandise you need to move. Moving boxes and packing supplies are two additional moving expenses. You can likewise employ the packers and movers in Jabalpur to decrease your moving weight. You still want to do it yourself and get moving boxes.

You can arrange for moving boxes from various locations to reduce the estimated cost of moving cartons by employing some ingenuity and physical labor. By using old boxes instead of buying new ones, you'll save money and help the environment in the long run.

Most importantly, what is your move's distance? In general, these free moving cartons will work well for a local or short-distance move. However, if you are preparing for a long-distance move, you will need to be more selective when selecting the free moving cartons.

Free and powerless pressing boxes are one of the most outstanding purposes behind broken or harmed things during the migration. Assuming your free moving containers are created from powerless material, you could get the free boxes yet you would pay parcel more to fix your wrecked effects.

Size matters… You shouldn't go out and grab every one of the containers or think you want since they turn out to be free. Be trustworthy when choosing boxes of a particular size. Usually, this means a few small, medium, and large boxes. Correct? Well sort of. You absolutely require these sizes; anyway you want unsurprising estimations for each social affair. In the event that by some coincidence, you end up with an emphasis of boxes of different sizes, you may suddenly find that this presents stacking and pressing challenges and finally doesn't use your open moving space gainfully. Thus, since you are prepared, we should investigate.

Although this is not the complete list of places to get free moving boxes, the ideas below should give you a good start and possibly all you need. If nothing else, they should awaken a few more of your creative synapses.

Craigslist

This web-based business community can be an unprecedented spot to find free moving boxes. Ask about the free section of Craigslist for people who are getting rid of their crates. Because that's when a lot of moving is taking place or has taken place, you'll probably have better karma if you check before or after the end of the week.

FaceBook

Has a Commercial center region where towns and organizations have packs that fill in as obliging resources. You could post that you are looking for nothing but moving boxes and check your post every few days for responses. There's no telling. You might find someone clearly that requirements to discard their cases or you might find someone who knows someone who will dump.

Find Someone Who Just Moved A person frequently moves from one location to another. Additionally, the unenviable task of separating all of their moving boxes and placing them in the reuse containers is on the minds of those who are just moving in. Take a look at your neighborhood or the high-rise building. Perform some observational cruising throughout your region. Try not to be too modest because the people who are just moving in probably can't wait to get rid of their moving boxes.

Wine and Bear Shop: The Wine and Alcohol Store is a great place to find free moving boxes. These retailers get colossal quantities of moving toward demands every month. These cases will in everyday be solid and by and large around strengthened and standard sizes. Various months liquor stores have a greater number of boxes than they understand how to make due. Along these lines, don't be tentative… basically ask the owner or boss. Most of the time, they are happy for you to go and get the crates from them.

Local gatherings Nextdoor.com: Marketplace on Facebook, and other similar online gatherings may be the most striking. This is a private, free, informal community for the surrounding area and neighborhoods. There is a group section on the website where people frequently post items they want to get rid of, such as free moving boxes. There is a good chance that someone just moved in and is looking for someone to come get their stack of moving boxes.

General Retailers: You should think about enrolling in this general class. Regardless of where you live, you are probably not far from a retail establishment. Every day, stockshipments arrive at these businesses. Also, like any other person, they probably would be happy for you to travel to them and get them. With a little planning, you can narrow your search to the kind of store that most likely carries the kinds and sizes of moving boxes you're looking for.

Bookstores: If you live close to a bookshop, these establishments can be excellent locations for free moving cartons. These holders will overall be more humble areas of strength for yet… the grounds that books are significant. Make an excursion and ask your close by book shop when or what days of the week they get their movements. Make sure to check with the schools and college book stores in your neighborhood.

Markets consistently receive a large number of shipments, which is obvious. Finding boxes that are sturdy enough for your turn is the test in markets. Also keep in mind that supermarket boxes can change a lot in size and shape, making them difficult to stack and taking up a lot of space, and that many of them get wet, weakening the cardboard. Additionally, if they have contained food, there is a possibility of vermin entering the box. Moving boxes that cost nothing are probably not your best bet. However, if you check with your superior, you will most likely discover that you are permitted to visit.

Only need to pack the straightforward catch. Call a Jabalpur movers and packers company to let us know what you need. Alternately, if you want to make sure you get the right boxes for the job, stop by our Packing Supply Store.

[hurrayprilmusic]

Alright! I'll try to be detailed (especially about the good parts) so bear with me

For context, I was 27 when I received penile-inversion vaginoplasty, and I had been on a wait list for 3 years. My recovery was much worse than average, and it was still completely and totally worth it.

I spent a lot of my recovery time alone, which added another layer of difficulty. If you can have someone to take care of you, especially for the first 6 weeks, you'll have a much easier time than I did. That being said, I did get through it.

I'm going to save sex for the end, so that the post ends on a high note. Feel free to skip right there. For the curious, though, here are my experiences with:

Dilation

Honestly not that bad. My surgeons guidelines were to start at 15 minutes, 3 times a day. Timelines vary between clinics, but the need to dilate becomes less and less frequent as time goes on, until eventually you settle on once a week, after a year. Still only 15 minutes per session for me.

The first 6 weeks are the worst: You're so tired, and all you do is sleep, eat, and dilate, and the dilations suck. They're bloody, and (for me at least) nerve wracking. I was so scared of damaging the area. For the first 6 weeks, you also need to properly clean out after dilating with iodine, and then saline. It's just a lot of work for someone who is completely exhausted.

In the moment, I felt so overwhelmed by it, but the worst doesn't last that long, and you're not going to have to worry about anything except dilating, so you buckle down and get it done.

At the beginning, you really need to keep on top of things. Your pussy can absolutely close up if you don't dilate often enough. It's an easy chore, but you have to make sure you do it.

As time goes on, things relax, especially after a year. I have definitely accidentally not dilated for over a month, and things were pretty tight when I started again, but I didn't lose any depth. Your mileage may vary, and you should still try and keep on top of things, but one bad month shouldn't be the end of the world. There isn't good long term data on dilating and depth loss over time, so the doctors tend to be really strict. Anecdotally, much more strict than is absolutely necessary.

Recovery

As I said, mine was much worse than average. It sucked. Really, really bad. The first 6 weeks were the worst 6 weeks of my life, by a lot. This was mostly due to my personal-life circumstances at the time. As I mentioned, I was alone for a lot of my recovery, which meant I had to take care of everything myself, including cooking and cleaning, all while I was barely conscious, and I was at high risk for seizures.

I bring this up because despite it being really horrible for months, I would do it again in a heartbeat. I wouldn't even have to think about it. I would go through that again every year if I needed to, but I don't. It was one time, and now I have the benefits forever. And most likely, your recovery will be orders of magnitude easier than mine!

My main advice is: have someone who can visit every day, and eat as much as you can. I was running a 2k calorie deficit for the first 3 weeks post-op. Don't do that. Please, for the love of god, eat. Protein is important, but so are calories. Should I have drank every room temp vanilla ensure the hospital gave to me? Yes. Would it have been better for me to eat an entire bag of Doritos for dinner instead of eating nothing at all? Also yes. EAT.

If you have a parent, a partner, friends, or some combination who can — every day — bring you food, give you a hug, and take out the garbage, you're golden.

Other than that, the advice I wish I had been given was: massage your internal scars, too. They tell you to massage the scars around your labia, but they didn't mention to me that the scars inside might need some TLC, too. I happened to have very large, very raised scars that made dilation and penetration difficult, and sometimes painful. It took me about 18 months to figure that out, and start working on it. As of now, it's much less of a problem, but I wish I had started on the process sooner.

Complications

The complication rate for vaginoplasty is fairly high (over 70% if I remember right), but that's mostly because of a couple very minor culprits. I was lucky enough to experience both of them.

Hyper-granulation tissue is when the body creates too much of the tissue it uses to heal wounds. This is more or less a non-issue. A small application of silver nitrate to the area every couple of weeks will clear it up in no time. It's gross, and you need access to a doctor to apply the nitrate, but it clears up quickly, and you never have to worry about it again.

Wound separation sounds a lot scarier, but it's not a big deal either. My stitches popped, and my wound began to separate right at the entrance of my vagina. As it turned out, it was an inch long, eighth inch wide, 4 inch deep gash. Not knowing that this was common, and not a big deal, I freaked out, and ended up stressing myself out more than I needed to. A small application of polysporin twice a day and time was all it took. My body eventually closed the wound all on its own. It resulted in fairly gnarly looking scar tissue immediately after, but with regular massage and time, I can barely tell anything happened now. The worst part was honestly that it delayed my recovery by a month. I wasn't allowed to fuck until 4 months post-op instead of 3. Damn. Oh well.

Speaking of, how about we move on to something more fun?

🌺🌸🌺 ~~ Sex ~~ 🌸🌼🌸

(⁠灬⁠º⁠‿⁠º⁠灬⁠) It's really nice

This section is mostly going to be detailed descriptions of t-girl boning, and gushing about how good it is. Feel free to skip it if that doesn't appeal to you.

Before surgery, I did not enjoy sex. I liked being intimate with people, but the actual sex part felt shitty. For some reason, I wasn't expecting this to change, but that was pretty silly of me. Even when I was giving oral or receiving anal, my dick was a constant presence, and made it hard to enjoy myself. Post bottom surgery, all forms of sex have been more fun, even when my genitals aren't involved.

One of the first times I had sex post-op was with my long distance girlfriend who came to visit. I was having some issues that were making penetration difficult, so we just made out and frotted. Feeling her dick rubbing between my pussy lips, slowly getting more and more slick as my juices overflowed and our genitals became a warm pool of pleasure. Amazing. 10 out of 10.

Your sensations come back slowly (I'm still getting sensation back), and even still, 5 month post-op, I could enjoy being eaten out. The heat of her breath rolling over my pussy, landing on my clit. The soft pressure of her tongue. The wetness growing up on over my labia. The sensation of a finger being slipped into me, and the rush when she hit my g-spot. Again, 10 out of 10.

It took about a year before I could start feeling things other than pressure inside the vaginal canal. The first time I could actually feel a dick slide in and out of me was mind-blowing. Not just a feeling of fullness, but skin on skin, rubbing inside of me. Holy hot damn. And when she came inside me? Feeling each throb of her cock? The sudden burst of warmth? The cum spilling out of me as she pulled away? I'm getting flustered just thinking about it.

About a week later, I had the first time experience of having an internal vibrator in my pussy going crazy —feeling every shake and tremble — while a woman gently held my head over the edge of a bed and throat-fucked me. A few months after that, I got to experience one woman delicately playing with my insides while another devoured my tits. I've made out with a girl for hours, and then been wet enough on my own that she could fuck me without any extra lube.

Having a pussy is fucking amazing. Bottom surgery made those things possible for me. I'm so happy I get to live the rest of my life with my pussy.

AND it keeps getting better. I'm still getting sensation back, and I'm more than 2 years out. My friends who got the surgery before me say they're still getting new sensations after 4 years. I would have been happy with my sensations at 5 months, so 4 years of extra sensitisation is nuts.

It's more than just sex, though. It was easy to say I didn't mind my dick while I was forced to have it. I just got really good at ignoring it. But now, I'm more confident, my clothes fit better, I have more motivation to stay healthy, I don't have to worry about tucking, it's easier to feel beautiful, and I get to fuck like a maniac in the exact way I want to.

I wasn't sure I wanted bottom surgery when I signed up for the wait list. Immediately before getting it, I was unsure if it would make much of an impact on my life. Over two years post-op, I can say it has been almost as important to my sense of well-being as HRT or social transition. It feels like an honest to goodness miracle.

Trans rights, trans thriving, and if you're trans, I love you

I've been seeing a lot of mtf bottom surgery posts floating around recently. I thought I could share my experience, but I do not feel like typing it all out unless someone (even just one person) actually would like to read about it.

Short version: oh my god so worth it holy smokes

Let me know

[tstwitterupdates]

I feel like (imo from being a creative and having life get in the way) Thomas plotted out s2 and how it was supposed to go a long time ago and then his whole fricken world changed. Cause like, first it was the production company, then Joan and Talyn, then several health scares, then a relationship and a breakup, and, obviously, and entire pandemic and a hurricane ruining part of his studio. And that's just the stuff externally. So I get why it's taking so long, cause he wants to make it perfect, and he can't change his plans for s2 at this point, because it will ruin basically everything. Plus, with Into the Unknown and the among us videos, right, it's clear he's trying his best to put content out there. So I can understand where he is.

I think I'm just frustrated because I miss when we had stuff like Thomas and Friends content, like Real or Fake Anime or Joystick Joyride and stuff. I feel like the Sides/Cartoon Therapy wait would be less painful if we were getting a bit more content on that end, you know? Cause while it's been a long time, I still feel like it would've mitigated the pain seeing him a little more frequently. Plus, I think Roleslaying would feel less odd if there was other content going out around as often as the once-a-week uploads for a month or so, rather than it being basically all the content we see from him, now.

I know Thomas is also getting to a better place with bulk recording an the like, and I'm genuinely still excited to see what's coming up. It just sometimes feels like Thomas is hyperfocusing on the big projects, and not letting himself enjoy the stuff that makes the bigger projects feel more substantial, if that makes sense.

i kinda agree im not sure i haven’t made up my mind on this. i liked the videos with his friends before but they’ve also gotten so extra that i no longer watch them either, im now one of those fans just waiting for sanders sides. but i do wish he would make simpler fun things either small sanders sides episodes or small vlogs. i miss his vlogs. but mostly because of nostalgia, those things made me company through the worst years of high school lol. anyway getting off topic.

i do think thomas is trying his best, i do not doubt that in the slightest. but even when you try your best if you don’t have a good strategy the results might not be the best. but i dont know what their strategy is so i can’t judge i guess.

more asks and replies under the cut

yeah like. they pushed the limits of what they could do with what they had back since accepting anxiety. and then they got better equipment and staff and stuff and instead of saying “now we can do the same things in less time and with less effort” they went “now we can do even bigger things that push our limits just as much!”

which is their decision to make not mine but i assume that’s where some of that stress might be coming from.

yes i agree with all of this. there’s some blogs that have posted criticism or defenses against criticism that i just find incredibly mean spirited or that make good points but phrase it in aggressive ways i don’t like.

i think whichever opinion you have it’s best to be open minded. acknowledge our own feelings and talk about them without attacking anyone. it’s okay to feel frustrated and angry and then we’re responsible about what we do with those emotions. and i think it’s cool to talk about them with other fanders that have felt the same. just stay open minded about what others have to say and then make up your mind about how much you agree or disagree.

and keep in mind that we know nothing about how thomas and co work. on both sides. like you cant claim their workflow is perfect nor claim it’s horrible because we just don’t know. but we can say we’re feeling disappointed or bored or annoyed or whatever because those are our own feelings.

yeah again this is my blog and i post what i want. and im doing my job by tagging and warning them.

and also thomas is a grown man in his thirties who has been a social media personality for, what? maybe almost a decade? im sure he knows how to be responsible about it and not go digging to read criticism of his work to get hurt by it. or at least i hope so. if he doesn’t then that’s out of my hands as well. and the hundreds of people supporting him on the replies of all his tweets more than make up for a handful of blogs that make angry posts every once in a while.

yes that’s understandable. but i still don’t know. if thomas has these personal problems that are so serious that they cause his content to come sooo slowly and still cause him to have this much stress then he should probably just take a huge actual break. and let us know about it. without necessarily telling us the reason of course.

if after Putting Others First or the last Asides he had said “hey im going on a hiatus for big projects like sanders sides and cartoon therapy while i figure stuff out, but i’ll film x kind of content because it requires less effort and i enjoy it” or even that the entire channel is going on hiatus, and then he came back like a year later and said “okay we’re back first thing we’re doing is writing the finale script!” or whatever then that would have been less frustrating than this. even if it had taken the same 3 years. because at least afterwards you know that he’s better and the wait would be worth it. at least that’s my opinion.

[mrsalwayswrite]

The Arrangement (Ivar x reader x Hvitserk)

Oh boy, so I don’t normally write smut but this idea came to me and would not let me write anything else. So here we are, friends. (I’m honestly so nervous to post this.)

A huge shout out to @geekandbooknerd for beta-reading this for me and listening to my ranting. You are the best, you beautiful person!

Warnings: SMUT, some feels, Ivar being Ivar 

Words: 5200

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius​

 The fierce, blue eyes of Kattegat's king surveyed the Great Hall, full of people as they ate the evening meal.  Jovial conversations, yells for more ale, the pop and crackle of the large fire, even the fist fight that broke out…. none of it attracted his attention. No, instead his clever mind wrestled with one simple problem. Something he was certain no other man ever had to worry about. This problem had lately been at the forefront of his mind, slithering through his thoughts like vipers, distracting him from his duties. Weeks now he mentally wrestled with seeking a solution. Wracking his brain as what to do. He even considered going to the Seer, but quickly rejected that idea. The Seer only ever spoke in riddles and it would only further muddle his already troubled mind. He cursed the gods with his lack of a solution, for putting him in this predicament. 

 But this morning as he lay in bed, willing the pain in his legs to diminish, a solution came to mind. It was so simple, something he should have considered long ago…. but one that required trust. Something which admittedly was not his strongest suit. But for this solution to work, to gain what he yearned for, he must trust. There was no other way. It was like the gods came to him, spoke into his mind during his slumber, explaining what he must do. Though he trusted no one completely, there was one who he could trust with this solution. And the rewards…. oh, the rewards would be well worth it. 

 Besides, it could be fun. 

He observed where his brother sat at a nearby table, talking and laughing with some of their warriors. A broad grin lit up his face as he freely drank and shared stories. Although Hvitserk seemed to be fully invested in the conversation around him, from where Ivar reclined on his throne, he could see the way his brother's gaze darted frequently to another table nearby. Quick looks, never lingering, almost indiscernible from how his gaze shifted to his companions around him. But Ivar could see it. Many times he had witnessed his brother's secret looks. Now was the time to test it. 

 With a sharp order, Ivar sent a nearby thrall to summon the other Ragnarsson. Hvitserk glanced at Ivar with a confused expression before giving a single nod. As he rose from his spot at the tables, Ivar had a nearby thrall fill up his ale horn, eyes shifting from his brother to the one who continued to unknowingly entice the elder Ragnarsson. When Hvitserk stood at the bottom of the dais, leading up to the thrones, Ivar waved his hand, signaling for his brother to sit on the throne next to him. The Queen's throne. Your throne. 

 Surprise flashed across the face of the flaxen-haired Ragnarsson, eyes darting between the two thrones for a moment in surprise. Ivar wondered if thoughts of their beautiful mother crossed his brother's mind as he saw the throne as often as they did his own. After a second, Hvitserk shrugged and seated himself on the other throne. Silence persisted as they nursed their ales. 

 Looking over the crowd, Ivar returned his gaze to the one person who, beside his mother, he was most devoted to. You were smiling in a way that made his heart clench and his lips twitch, wanting to mirror your joy. He never understood your need to mingle with others during meals instead of remaining on your throne. At times, jealousy reared its head in his mind, but you always returned to his side, to his bed, sharing the latest gossip you heard or a particularly funny story. He would grumble but never admit how he enjoyed listening to you, or how he used that gossip to his benefit. 

 Now you sat with a few women he recognized as wives to wealthy traders in Kattegat. A baby lay in your arms as you spoke with enthusiasm to one of the women. With the light from the flames dancing across your face and the joy radiating from you as you cooed at the baby in your arms, Ivar knew there was no one as beautiful as you. Even more so than his mother. Every day he still found himself in awe that you chose him, you agreed to be his wife, that you loved him. It was enough to make him feel invincible. To conquer the world and lay it at your feet as an offering. 

 Without moving his head, Ivar peeked over at his brother, unsurprised to see him staring in the same direction. The horn of ale at his lips helped mask where his lingering gaze lay, but Ivar could see. He knew. 

 "I see how you look at her." Ivar said nonchalantly. 

 "Who?" Hvitserk questioned, eyes pretending to roam over the Great Hall. 

 Ivar smirked, fingers lightly tapping on the armrest of his throne. "My queen…. y/n."

 "She is a beautiful woman. Is it wrong now to admire someone so clearly blessed by Freyja?"

 "Ah, but I see your mind. You want to do more than admire, dear brother."

 Hvitserk shifted uncomfortably, head snapping to the side to eye his younger brother warily. "What is this, Ivar?"

 The young king leaned back, smirk still in place. After a tense moment of watching Hvitserk squirm, he dropped his voice so he knew only his brother could hear him. "I have a proposition for you."

 "What?"

 "I need your help with a…. sensitive matter."

 The flaxen-haired Ragnarsson scoffed. "Is this Ivar the Boneless actually asking for help?" 

 "Will you help me or not?" He sharply retorted, trying to force down the rising anger that bubbled under his skin. 

 "Of course." He said with a sigh. "What is it?"

 Ivar pushed off his throne, tossing back the rest of his ale and handing his horn off to a nearby thrall. "Come. We will discuss this in my bedroom." 

 He did not wait for his brother, already leaning on his crutch as he walked down the steps and down the corridor to the royal rooms. He hoped his plan worked. He needed it to work. Even if it meant trusting his brother with what was most precious to him. 

 *****

 Your steps were sure as you left the Great Hall and walked down the corridor to your bedroom. You had seen Ivar and Hvitserk leave the evening meal some time ago, but assumed they went to discuss important matters somewhere quiet. So, you stayed to talk with your friends, something you cherished. It was important to you that even though you were their queen, they could be comfortable in your presence and feel free to speak to you. Plus, you enjoyed the juicy gossip passed around. 

 One of the guards opened the bedroom door for you. You nodded a brief thanks and walked in…. only for your feet to stutter to a stop after you entered. Surprise flooded you to see your husband and his older brother both in your bedroom. Ivar reclined on his favorite, wide chair near the lit fireplace but what was most perplexing was how Hvitserk sat on the end of your bed, elbows on his knees with a guarded expression. 

 "My wife will not be needing your assistance tonight." Ivar stated to the thrall who had followed you into the room. "You may leave us….and inform the guards we do not wish to be disturbed for any reason."

 The thrall glanced over to you, since she was yours. The routine of helping you undress and prepare for bed, a regular occurrence most nights. At your murmured acceptance, she nodded her head and left, closing the door behind her. 

 "Is everything alright, Ivar? Have you heard something from your spies?" You quickly asked once the three of you were alone. Worry gnawed in your stomach. He had confessed to you late one night that there was a nearby earl he thought might try to attack and overtake Kattegat. 

 "Come here, my love." He held his leather-clad hand out for you to take, something you did without question. He guided you to stand between his open, brace-covered legs. With his other hand, he tapped his lips, a cheeky glint in his eyes. You giggled but obliged, pressing a sweet and tender kiss to his mouth in response to his wordless demand.

 His hands on your hips, he looked up at you with devotion in those piercing blue eyes. A sight that made your heart melt every time without him even having to say a word. 

 "What is going on?"

 "You know I love you, yes?" He softly questioned, still staring up at you like you were the moon and stars. 

 You cupped his cheek, his sideburns tickling your fingers. "Of course. And I love you."

 "Mmmm…. the gods have given me wisdom as how to solve our problem."

 "Our problem?" Your brows furrowed, confused by what he was talking about. 

 He pointedly looked at your belly then back up at you. 

 Then it hit you, and your heart broke a little at the heartache in his gaze. "Oh, Ivar, I told you…."

 "It's been a year, y/n." He interrupted, the grief slipping into his voice, even as he struggled to hide it. "We've been trying for a year and there is nothing to show for it. I never thought I could pleasure a woman until you came along and I hoped…. I hoped I could give you a child. Our child. But it seems the gods still will not grant me that ability. I need an heir, and I want to see you grow round with a child. I want a family with you. Something I never dreamed of before."

 Realization dawned on you as to why Hvitserk was in your bedroom. Eyes wide, you peeked over your shoulder at the other Ragnarsson, who was staring at the ground between his feet, then looked back at your husband. 

 "Ivar…."

 "Hvitty has agreed. He will be my cock and plant a baby in you in my name."

 This time you fully turned around to stare at the flaxen-haired brother. "Hvitserk, are you sure you want to do this?" 

 Gods, this sounded like something your husband would force his brother to do. Actually, you were beyond astounded that Ivar would even let another man touch you. Before your thoughts could follow that trail, Ivar's voice brought you back. 

 He chuckled darkly, an edge to his tone like he was confessing someone else's secret. "My brother can barely keep his eyes off you whenever you are around….and when I told him my idea, he agreed without hesitation."

 You witnessed an adorable blush rise to Hvitserk's cheeks as he rubbed the back of his neck and mumbled under his breath. For a moment he looked like a young boy again, caught staring at his latest crush. It was so innocent and precious. Yet with the rumors you heard from some of the women of Kattegat, you knew he was far from innocent. There had been a handful of times you secretly noticed the Ragnarsson's heated gaze on you, but your mind played it off, thinking he must have truly been looking at someone else or he was just admiring your dress. Now your mind flipped through those memories with a different lens. 

 After giving your husband's hands a quick squeeze, you stepped out of his embrace. Heart hammering away in your chest, you watched the elder brother with a new understanding as you approached. This time you did not miss the way his eyes raked over your form or how he licked his lips almost in anticipation. The shiver that rolled down your spine startled you, but not unpleasantly so. 

 Almost in a mirror image, you stood between Hvitserk's legs, his hands automatically landing on your hips, just like how you stood with Ivar; but the way his hands felt unbound by leather and almost hesitant to touch you, was a reminder this was not your husband. After a moment, you cupped his face, his beautiful brown eyes meeting yours with such naked want in them, heat coursed through you.  

 "Are you sure, Hvitty?" You whispered.   

 "I'd be lying if I said I haven't thought about laying with you." He confessed, a naughty smirk teasing his lips. His voice stayed low as you two traded secrets. "Are you alright with this…. arrangement? I know you love my brother, and I don't want to ruin that. Not for either one of you."

 You continued to stroke his cheek as you pondered his question. There was no doubt that you loved Ivar with all your heart. He was the love of your life and you knew you were his. Hvitserk easily was the brother you always wished for. You enjoyed his flirtatious teasing, especially when it made the jealous side of your husband come out because the sex after that was always mind-blowing. The blond was someone you trusted wholeheartedly. Your life was perfect, you were happier than you ever thought you would be. But there was one thing you always imagined, one thing you silently yearned for. So it was with that in mind, your answer, your decision was an easy one to make. 

 "I want a baby."

 His smirk grew, "I'll try my best to help with that."

 You laughed. "Oh, so gracious of you."

 He winked cheekily, taking one of your hands to kiss your palm slowly. 

 You shifted to meet your husband's cool gaze, with Hvitserk's hands gently kneading your hips. "Ivar, you are certain this is what you want? This won't cause jealousy between you and your brother?"

 Ivar scoffed. "Why would it?"

 "You threatened last month to gouge a trader's eyes out for staring at y/n too long." Hvitserk deadpanned. In the next second, he leaned over to lay a kiss on your hip meanwhile, his hand shifted to grab a handful of your ass cheek. You squeaked, surprised by the bold move in front of Ivar. As you tried to wriggle away, he only chuckled and pulled you to sit directly on his lap. It should not surprise you anymore how strong Hvitserk was, but somehow it always managed to catch you off guard. Though your mind certainly took notice of the bulge in his pants underneath you. 

 "He was talking only to her breasts. He is lucky I did not take at least one eye for his disrespect." Ivar leaned back in his seat. "You agree to this, my love?"

 "I do." You answered. 

 "Excellent. Come here for a moment." He beckoned you to him once again. 

 Hvitserk released you, not before palming your ass as you stood up. You swatted at his hands, but the smile on your lips let him know you were not truly upset. 

 That smile only grew as you glided over to your husband. For all of his anger and wrath, none of it ever touched you. Instead he treated you delicately, reverently. As if you were a dream and with one wrong move, you would vanish. Or a goddess he vowed to continuously worship. You thrived under his tender touches, drawing you further and further into the ocean of his profound love. 

 He guided you to stand between his legs again and for a brief moment you felt like a ball the brothers were taking turns passing back and forth. You dashed the thought away before it made you giggle. 

 "I have one condition for our arrangement." Ivar said, intently watching your face. His finger traced the edges of your lips, as if to memorize them. "Only I own your mouth. I was your first kiss. So as I live and breathe, only I get the pleasure of your kisses. Hvitserk can kiss and touch you anywhere else but there. Agreed?"

 You nodded mutely. The growing desire in his eyes caused your womb to clench and fire to begin warming your veins. 

 "Brother?"

 "Agreed." Hvitserk said from his perch on the bed behind you, his voice sounding a bit gruffer than a minute ago. 

 Ivar turned those piercing, passionate eyes back to you. "My love…." He placed a kiss to the valley between your breasts, allowing his face to linger there a moment. You carded your fingers through his loosened hair, feeling his hands gently holding your hips. When he looked up, gone was the sweet, loving devotion in his eyes, replaced with something wicked. "Shall we teach Hvitty what you like first?"

 "What do you have in mind?"

 "Take off your dress."

 "I need help with the laces." You reminded him as he was the one to demand your thrall leave earlier. 

 "Ah, you are right. Go to Hvitserk, he will help."

 Obediently, you walked the few steps back to the elder Ragnarsson wondering what game your husband was playing, but you could not deny the excitement thrumming in your veins. Without a word, you turned around to allow him access to the lacing on the back of your dress. You thought he would hesitate or his fingers would tremble knowing your husband was watching on. Instead they deftly plucked and tugged at the laces like he had done this many times. Once your back was exposed, his hand traced down your spine, causing you to shiver under the sensual touch. 

 Holding the front of the dress to your chest, you made your way back over to Ivar. Standing in front of him, his hands claimed your fingers from holding your dress to entwine with his own. Immediately, your dress slipped down your body to pool at your feet, leaving you completely bare before the two Ragnarssons. 

 Ivar's hands landed on your hips but instead of pulling you to straddle him, like you expected, he slowly spun you around and had you sit on his lap, facing his brother. What met your gaze was the wolfish look of Hvitserk, staring at you like you were something he wanted to devour. Ivar's hands slide up from your hips to cup your breasts as if offering them to his brother. 

 "Look at you, my goddess, my wife." Ivar whispered against your skin as he left hot, open-mouth kisses along the column of your throat. You could not help but whimper, your body so in tune with his. He barely had to touch you before your body begged for him to fill you. A dampness already coated your core. Without taking his eyes off of you, his hands fondling you in the way that made you breathless, he addressed his brother. "Is she not perfect, Hvitty? A goddess begging to be worshiped."

 "Gods, yes. Perfect."

 Normally you would be embarrassed by the praises. Now though, you felt like a lamb being toyed with by two wolves. Trapped by the lustful gaze of one and the feverish touches of the other. 

 Ivar's hands continued to fondle and pluck at your nipples, causing your head to fall back onto his shoulder. "That's right, you love these perfect breasts being played with, don't you?"

 "Ivar…." His name was a needy whine coming off your tongue.

 "Yes, my love. So sensitive. Just imagine it's Hvitty's mouth on them." 

 An unexpected, wanton moan escaped you at the thought. Your hips started rolling against your husband's lap, desperate for friction. 

 "Open your eyes." Ivar whispered into your ear. "Look at Hvitty."

 You obeyed even though your body demanded to close your eyes and wallow in the pleasure Ivar could induce in you. As your gaze locked with the elder Ragnarsson, you felt one of Ivar's hands skim down your stomach to part your legs, exposing your core. 

 Instinctively, you started to close your legs only for Ivar to tsk and bite the junction of your neck and shoulder. "Don't be shy. Let him see that sweet pussy." 

 Your legs fell back open, allowing his hand free reign to touch you where you most needed it. Your body automatically arched into his hand, silently begging for more. Sweat already began to dampen you as the heat burned hotter under your skin. 

 "I swear Valhalla is between her legs, brother."

 Hvitserk spoke up, his voice coming out rough and husky. "Touch her, Ivar."

 "You hear that, y/n?" Your husband teased, licking a stripe up the column of your throat. "Should I touch you?"

 "Please." You begged, too far along to care how needy you sounded. 

 He chuckled darkly, his hand dipped to your core, cupping and teasing you. You tensed as his skilled fingers played with your folds and clit but never entering you. He could tease you for hours, leave you on the brink as you begged for relief. It was a favorite game of his. You started to grind against him, your blood boiling with desire and the need for relief. 

 Somehow, he always knew when you were close, as if it was a sixth sense. 

 "She is close, Hvitty. Her pussy is weeping to be filled." He squeezed your breast, causing you to loudly moan.

"Do you want my fingers or my cock, my queen?"

 "I want you, beloved." You answered in a breathy sigh. 

 His teasing ceased, almost making you whine. Gently, he cupped your chin, turning your head to gaze lovingly into your eyes. It always seemed to astound him that you desired him, not just physically but as a person, as a friend, as a lover and a soul mate. He pressed a sweet kiss to your lips, pouring in all of his devotion in a way you understood since words always failed him. 

 Slowly you rose to your feet but instead of walking away, you turned to face him. This was a dance the two of you had done before. Knowing what he wanted, you straddled his lap without fear of the wide chair breaking under your combined weight. This was not the first time you had made love on this particular chair by the fire. 

 Still gazing at you in awe and adoration, Ivar cupped your breasts. His thumbs teased your nipples. A low moan fell from your lips as your head tipped back. His mouth then descended on your chest, first leaving small kisses before taking one of your peaked nipples into his mouth. 

 "Ivar…." You groaned. "Yes, yes."

 In an action well practiced, you were already reaching between your bodies to fumble with the laces of his pants. Without hesitation, you sank down onto him, being filled in the best way possible. Your lips sought out his, drawing pleasure from his mouth just as much as his cock. Your tongues swirled as your hips rolled. It was delirium. This pleasure he could bring out of you. It was all-consuming. No matter how much he teased, he was always gentle and reverent when it came to worshipping you. A slow, sweet burn that sunk into every fiber of your body, called forth your very soul to dance with his, just as much as your bodies writhed together. 

 You unlocked your mouth, throwing your head back with a loud moan as your pace increased, riding his cock, seeking your peak. His growls and words of praise only spurred you on. 

 Finally it came, crashing over you, eliciting a cry of Ivar's name loud enough the guards outside the door probably heard. Three more quick thrusts and you could feel Ivar spill his empty seed inside you. His head dropped onto your chest, both of you panting and sweaty. 

 "You're mine." He murmured against your skin as if reminding himself or branding the words into your naked skin. "You're my goddess, my queen, mine."

 "Always." You whispered back. 

 After both of you came down from your erotic high, Ivar leaned up, pressing a toe-curling kiss to your already swollen lips. 

 "She's ready for you, brother." He loudly announced. 

 It was then you remembered Hvitserk in the room. So caught up in making love with your husband, you had momentarily forgotten what was to happen. You stared down at your husband, silently asking him if he was sure. 

 Ivar rolled his eyes but caressed your cheek with his calloused fingers. "It's alright. Besides, if you don't go take care of him, he'll probably blow his load in his pants soon."

 You smiled, kissing him once more before carefully rising off his lap. As you turned to look at the flaxen-haired warrior, never before had you felt the seductress until now. With your husband's seed spilling down your thigh, you slowly walked the few paces to stand in front Hvitserk. With each step closer, his ravenous gaze devoured your nakedness; a predatory look that made your thighs clench and put a quiver in your belly. 

 "How do you want me?" You softly asked, standing before him. 

 He swallowed thickly, fists clenching and releasing before he cleared his throat and answered hoarsely. "Lie down on your back."

 Embracing the inner seductress in you, you crawled across your bed, giving your husband and his brother a spectacular view of your ass. Nerves aflutter, you laid down on your large marital bed. Yet you could feel the longing ache between your legs growing the more you thought about what was to come. 

 Soon, Hvitserk hovered above you, completely naked. Although you loved your husband and his body, the sight of Hvitserk in all his glory made your mouth water and core clench in anticipation.  

 "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen." He confessed, barely above a whisper. "Gods…." His mouth landed on your neck, lavishing his affections using both teeth and tongue. Sweeping downward, his ministrations continued, drawing soft cries from you as he equally used his mouth and hands to caress all the curves of your body. Each touch, each caress, each bite and lick, all felt like he was trying to get himself drunk on the feel of your soft skin, your scent and the sounds of pleasure coming from you. 

 It did not take long for you to begin writhing underneath him, clawing at his back, utterly at his mercy. This desire he invoked in you was molten and drugging. Your eyelids fluttered closed as you fought to remember to breathe. 

 Pulling back slightly, he lined himself up. Then instead of gradually easing into you, he slammed into you until he was fully sheathed in your womanhood. A cry left your mouth at the same time as he groaned. You expected pain but instead your body readily welcomed the intrusion, hot and wet, waiting for him. 

 He pressed his forehead to yours, remaining frozen, giving you both time to adjust. "Gods…. this is Valhalla." He whispered with a touch of awe in his voice. 

 You rolled your hips; your body begging for more, for release, for him to bring you to new heights. "Hvitty…."

 "Say my name." He grunted, a slow thrust accompanying it. 

 "Hvitserk." 

 "Again." This thrust was a little faster and harder. 

 "Hvitserk."

 "Say it." 

 His name rolled off your tongue in a gasp as he slammed into you, stars appearing in your vision. "Hvitserk."

 As a key unlocking, your fervid gasp seemed to unleash him. In the next moment, he began thrusting with abandon, almost animalistic in his pleasurable fury. He grabbed your hips, lifting them off the bed to begin pounding into you like a man possessed. 

 Never before had Ivar done anything like this and to your surprise…. you liked it. A lot. 

 Your hands clawed at the bed, desperate for something to hold onto. Cries of pleasure flowed freely from you. An inferno lived inside of you, threatening to burn you with ecstasy. Sluggishly you opened your eyes to be met with the sight of Hvitserk cradled between your thighs, sweat glistening on his flushed skin as he rocked into you, sending jolts of electricity each time. Those brown eyes stared down at you like he wanted to own your body and soul.

 With a silent scream, your peak overwhelmed you. Your eyes slammed shut as your back arched, delicious waves of pleasure making your mind cease to function. 

 Hvitserk followed quickly, a growl splitting the air between you as his thrusts stuttered to an end and his seed filled your womb. He all but collapsed on top of you after, both for you sweaty and sated. 

 "Did I hurt you?" He asked, his voice raspy and content. His head laid on your chest, his body seeming to be the only thing to keep you from floating away on waves of bliss. 

 "No." You mumbled languishly, too pleasure-drunk to say more. 

 He tipped his head to look at you, a lazy smirk on his face. "I really want to kiss you."

 "You know the one rule." You reminded him, brushing a hand over his frazzled braids. 

 He hummed, then with a mischievous glint in his eyes, he leaned forward and licked your lips. At first you just stared as he grinned at you, but giggles soon fell from your mouth. 

 "Hvitserk! What did I say?" Ivar demanded, walking over to sit on the opposite side of the bed. 

 Hvitserk rolled his head to look at his brother, but kept it on your naked chest. "I didn't kiss her. You never said anything about not licking her lips."

 Ivar rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath, as he unstrapped his braces and flopped onto the bed. His hand reached out for you, possessively tugging you out from underneath his brother and into his side. Not that you minded. You immediately curled against him, your eyelids straining to stay open. 

 "I'm alright." You answered the question you could see lingering in his eyes. "Just sleepy now."

 He smiled fondly down at you, leaving a gentle kiss on your forehead. Sleep called to you as you lay in your husband's arms. So wonderfully relaxed, your muscles were loose and your womanhood ached in the best way from the lasting effects of your pleasure. 

 The sound of movement made you tip your head to the side, only to see Hvitserk getting off the bed and reaching for his clothes. 

 "Where are you going?" You asked, your voice lethargic as if already infused by sleep. 

 Those brown eyes jumped from you to your husband and back. "I figured Ivar would want me to leave now so you two can go to sleep."

 "Stay, Hvitty. The hour is late." Ivar replied, running a hand up and down your bare back. "Besides I plan on this arrangement until y/n is with child. You can stay with us."

 With a tilt of his head, the brothers regarded each other for a long moment before Hvitserk chuckled, tossing his tunic back to the ground and crawling into bed in just his pants. 

 "Thank the gods. This bed is ridiculously comfortable."

 You smiled, rolling over so your back was pressed to Ivar's chest, snuggling closer to him. His arm settled around your waist comfortably as he placed a kiss on the back of your neck. Snaking a hand over the covers, you reach over and entwine the elder brother's fingers with yours. Hvitserk startled initially but quickly brought your hand to his lips, a brief kiss on your knuckles, then laid it back on the bed, keeping your fingers entangled. 

 Sleep found you within minutes, tucked between the two Ragnarssons, one being your husband and the other who would give you a child. 

 Your last thought was wondering if Fate would allow this arrangement to work….and maybe continue. 

[hokiis-writing-dump]

Little Fire Plume (Pt.5)

Gender Neutral Reader, Child!Reader x Diluc(PLATONIC), Reader has a pyro vision, slipped some of my own headcanon in here :)

CW(?)// Abandonment or Neglect (Not sure which it’d be tbh), angst at the end :)))))

So once you return to the manor, you are super confused on what Albedo meant.

You keep it secret as he requested, but you noticed that Albedo visits much more often, claiming he “Might’ve found out why (Y/N)’s ‘vision’ is so unstable.”

Eventually he shows you the markings on your back via a sketch

It like a pyro symbol, but there is a golden diamond shape similar to one on Albedo’s neck in the center of it and there are swirls around it.

After testing thing’s out with various things that contain cryo and hydro energy, he noticed that whatever it is, or you yourself, seems to deactivate once coming in contact with cryo or hydro.

Though he’s starting to think that it’s just you that seems to be shutting down once coming in contact with it because you seem so tired after.

Diluc is picking up on the fact that Albedo whisks you away much more frequently after the day he let you play with Diona.

Albedo claims it’s just because of him trying to figure out the constant fire hazard you are, but Diluc just doesn’t believe that quite as well.

So once Kaeya starts also coming along with to take you with Albedo, Diluc decided to start following you. Which led to...well.

“Kaeya, Albedo. What are you doing with (Y/N)?” Kaeya nearly jumped out of his seat once he heard Diluc creeping up from behind at Albedo’s lab in Dragonspine. Albedo sighed, slowly turning to face Diluc.

You, still being oblivious to the possible seriousness of the situation, had no idea that Diluc was slightly trying to intimidate them both. “Papa! Mr. Albedo was telling me about the pretty design on my back!” And then you slipped that out. Great.

Diluc was beyond confused, but then Albedo nodded towards Kaeya, and they both knew they had to come clean since this was Diluc’s kid.

So here we are

Diluc is trying to be as understanding as possible, but once Albedo explains the whole homunculus thing, he can feel his heart drop

(My personal headcanon is that eventually Albedo will have to be called back to whatever remains of Khaenri’ah, and since you are a homunculus, that includes you, dont ask me to explain it here i got it from a friend okay, but maybe in another post i will)

Diluc is beyond upset that he’ll have to forfeit you to something you don’t even know exists, and neither of you will have a choice.

You’d leave with Albedo at that time, and that’d very likely be the last time you’d see Diluc.

In Diluc’s mind, you are his child, by blood or not. Having to give you up seriously breaks his heart because he’s already been with you for years.

Albedo explains to him that they’d seemingly be on auto-pilot and unable to break out of it.

Diluc looks over at you, and he feels like a few tears might fall there and then. When you look back at him, you just smile and wave.

He hates this.

He hates that he might, no, that he WILL lose you.

He hates that this is what you have to be, whether you like it or not.

A thought in the back of the Diluc’s mind says to leave you. Turn away from you and just forget you exist to make things easier when you leave him.

But he doesn’t want to do that to you, because someone your age wouldn’t understand why their father up and left them without a word. (HA he went to get milk)

He decides he needs time for it to sink in, so he asks for Albedo to care for you in that time.

It’s been about a week since you last talked to your father, and you miss him greatly. You keep asking when you can see him again, and Albedo can only answer with “Eventually”

A month later, you start losing hope to see him again, because now you haven’t seen him in Mondstadt at all.

And finally at months since you’ve seen your father, you give up. You’re young and can’t handle a wait that long. You decide to instead cling to Albedo more often since he’s been taking care if you during the time, and you sometimes slip out calling him “Dad”. He never protests it, and even smiles at you sometimes when you do it.

Though you swear sometimes the mechanical ticking of a clock behind you.

One day, Albedo just stops in the middle of an experiment, and you start to become more and more tired.

And there is a woman with short blonde hair and a tall creature behind her at the entrance to the cave Albedo’s lab is in.

HI HI peoples so I hope this chapter isnt too all over the place, im pretty sleep deprived at the time of writing this and hoping that it’ll still come out somewhat well, the next post witll take me a much longer time since thats gonna be a big one, and possibly the last Little Fire Plume post! Enjoy your days and nights :D

[lacheri]

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I do not consent or allow this to be posted on Tik Tok, or any other social media

pairing: switch!Eren and switch!fem bodied reader

content: college au, OnlyFans/sex work, masturbation (m), praise kink, oral (f and m receiving), squirting, penetrative sex, drug and alcohol use, classic college party, Eren is down horrendously bad, I believe in long haired Eren supremacy, minors DNI

summary: when jean finally convinces eren to crawl out from under his rock to join society on instagram, he finds there’s a whole lot more than just pictures of food. there’s you.

wc: 15.4k (I know it’s a long one, hope you enjoy tho)

Eren Jaeger had recently found himself in a very, very deep hole. It all started innocently, when one of his best friends Jean had convinced Eren to crawl out of his hole and create an Instagram to join society.

“C’mon Eren,” Jean had teased over a week ago as they studied out on the lawn of their school. “You have no idea what you’re missing out on. No one even uses Facebook anymore, it’s all for moms who want to brag about little Timmy’s genius for figuring out one plus one equals two.”

“What do you even do on Instagram?” Eren’s brows knitted together in confusion, Jean whipping his phone out to show Eren exactly how to use it.

“You post pictures,” Jean navigated to his profile, tapping and sliding down to show Eren all of Jean’s shameless selfies.

“Of just yourself?” he breathed, not comprehending the appeal at all. Don’t people look at his face enough?

“Well, you can post anything you want, that’s the beauty of it. Plus, when you’re not doing that, you get to see and like other people’s pictures.”

“But it says here you follow, 1,536 accounts? And you have 5,000 following you back?” Eren asked incredulously, surprised about how popular his friend’s online persona was. “How do you even know that many people?”

“You don’t,” Jean shrugged, making a few taps to his home page as posts began to load up. “Celebrities have Instagram, our friends have Instagram, fuck, every attractive person on the entire planet has one.”

“How do you even find these people?” Eren’s questioning never seemed to end, the concept out of his comprehension. Facebook was one thing, he personally knew every single one of his friends and family there, and honestly he really enjoyed people just talking about their day to day ordeals.

That’s when Jean forced Eren to hand his phone over and download the app. Jean snapped a quick picture of Eren, to which Eren had no reaction time to. Before he could protest, Jean had already uploaded the candid with some random song lyrics as the caption. To be honest with himself, Eren had to admit that Jean had taken a very flattering picture. He had his knee brought to his chest while his arm dangled over, back slumped and relaxed while he sat on the blanket they had set down before lounging there, hair in his signature sloppy man bun. It was mid day, so all the shadows casted behind his body as the sun’s rays illuminated every high point and contrast of his stoic face.

After a few follow backs from his friends, Armin and Mikasa, he had accumulated a few dozen likes, and Eren couldn’t help the feelings of instant gratifications wash over him, “Okay? So, now what?”

“Now,” Jean began to instruct him, putting the phone back in Eren’s hands after showing him the basics of social media. “Go to my page, and start following whoever you want from my following list. There’s some really hot girls.”

And when Eren laid in his dorm bed that night by himself, he did just that. He really didn’t want to give Jean the satisfaction of showing him who he followed, or why he decided to. His finger scrolled and scrolled through the following list on Jean’s Instagram, hitting the follow button on a few bands he really enjoyed. But then, his hand stopped at one username in particular. The avatar showed a pretty girl, smiling brightly into the camera, sun’s golden rays blooming behind her hair.

Eren tapped on the username, and the first thing he took note of was the bio. ‘Connoisseur of mimosas and rock and roll’, he had to smirk at that, what a simple sentence to sum yourself up with. His eyes flickered to the link in her bio, titled, OnlyFans. He titled his head, Jean hadn’t mentioned what OnlyFans was? Did everyone have an OnlyFans too, like Instagram? He tapped on the highlighted link to be met with a page of prices. What the fuck was so exclusive about it that he had to pay ten dollars for a single picture? As he scrolled down a bit more, he noticed the pricing rising to the final payment cost.

“200 dollars for a personal Snapchat and to talk to me every day?” he read aloud, mouth open in disgust. “What the fuck is this?”

He hit the done option in the upper left corner, returning to the Instagram page in question. He tapped on the first photo, the girl’s back facing the camera, completely bare as her hair trickled down the center. She was sitting in a pretty pink bath, floating flowers all around, staring out a window, captioned, ‘wishing you were here’. His gaze lingered on the dips of her waist, before scrolling down to see the girl in some more clothing. This one was a much prettier picture, glasses set on the brim of her nose while she sat comfortably at a wooden table in a library. She stared directly into the camera, a pretty smile on her face while her hands sat perched under her chin. Some books were open on the table, and Eren took note of the quilted skirt peeking out from the under the bottom, her knees tightly crossed. ‘finals week is going to be the death of me, thank the universe for coffee’.

Eren back tracked out of the photo after double tapping, trying to drink in a comprehensive idea of what exactly people were paying so much money to see. He scrolled, and landed on his answer. The girl sat on a stool, phone angled in the mirror to take in her frame, wearing nothing but black lingerie and heels with a smirk on her face, the caption simply, ‘follow me on OnlyFans, link in bio’.

‘Hey Jean, what’s OnlyFans?’ Eren typed a quick text to his now mentor, patiently waiting as three bubbles appeared from his friend’s end.

‘Lol I see what you’re using Instagram for now, Jaeger’, was Jean’s only reply, and Eren could feel himself getting frustrated. Before he could type back an angry text, those bubbles popped up once again. ‘It’s basically porn, you pay for people’s pictures and videos’.

‘Why would someone want to do that? It’s free almost everywhere else’.

‘Because, young grasshopper, girls are hot and I’m trynna see some titties’.

Eren rolled his eyes at his friend’s stupidity. Deducing that Jean was obviously one of these paying customers, Eren felt a little more secure in himself as he tapped the follow button on the girl’s page. What he wasn’t expecting though was a notification informing him she had followed back, followed quickly by another one liking his only post. Eren couldn’t hold back a blush, heart thumping in his chest. Did this girl think he was good looking?

The thought didn’t sit for long as yet another notification popped up, this time a comment. The girl had simply put a heart eyed emoji, followed by a fire emoji. Eren retreated in haste back to her profile, analyzing every picture and caption.

That had been a month ago, and now Eren had a full blown addiction to the website, more specifically her Instagram. Eren was even paying for her OnlyFans now, making excuses that the money he spent would be used for coffees and lunches anyhow, and he really had to nip his caffeine addiction in the butt so he might as well spend his cash on her.

She had just posted a photoset, one of many on her page, completely naked aside from a gold necklace adorned on her neck, a simple initial of ‘E’ rested prettily on her collarbone. It was like she knew Eren was devouring her social medias on a daily basis. It was all for him, Eren had concluded. There was no coincidence that she had followed and liked his own page, it was all fate and meant to be. Eren had figured out how to DM someone, thanks to Jean showing him how to during one of their classes, and he had taken full advantage of the girl’s inbox. Unfortunately with no reply or read receipt to even prove she had received his messages, introducing himself and showering the girl with compliments. Oh, Eren was down bad. He even brought himself to pay out the $50 tier on her OnlyFans for the month, tired of entering his card information for every daily post.

His dick twitched hard as he drank in her form, curvaceous and beautiful and feminine. It wasn’t even like he just wanted to fuck her either, if he needed relief like that he’d just hit up one of the handful of girls he had saved in his contacts. Eren Jaeger wanted to take this girl out on a fucking date. They had so much in common, they were practically soulmates. She liked and followed all the same bands Eren did, posted on her stories all about her favorite foods and her zodiac sign. While he didn’t really believe in that shit, his Google search history of checking if Aries was compatible spoke to something completely different.

And then Eren began noticing something. How the library she frequently posted pictures in was the same library on campus. All the restaurants she went to were in an hour radius of him, half of them being his usual hangout spots. She lived locally, which thoroughly surprised him. Had he seen her around before? No, definitely not, he would’ve definitely remembered her pretty face. None of the girls that he knew looked like her, and if Eren didn’t know what a woman’s body felt like, he would’ve sworn her body was made of plastic.

Eren was practically an expert at Instagram now, and had plenty of opportunities to follow other beautiful women, but he chose not to. He felt guilty one night as he maneuvered through another pretty girl’s pictures, quickly retreating back to the comfort of his favorite girl’s instead. This was one of the reasons Eren had fought getting online for so long, whenever he found something he liked, he got obsessive.

His attention was drawn back to her naked photos, and he slipped his hand under the fabric of his sweatpants as he began to fuck his fist to her pretty image. All for him, he panted as he imagined what she would look like in front of him, beautiful and begging for his touch.

“Thank you so much,” you smiled graciously at the Starbucks employee in front of you, taking your large iced coffee from his hands.

“No problem, have a great day!”

You tossed your hair behind your shoulder as you turned around, the smile still vibrant on your face. Today was a good day, you decided almost as soon as you woke up. After studying for finals for nearly two weeks straight, you finally had a day off to enjoy yourself. Your best friend, Sasha, had convinced you to go on a small shopping day with her. You eagerly agreed that morning, toothbrush forgotten in between your teeth as your fingers rapidly tapped away to schedule a time. You were running out of sexy outfits for your OnlyFans content, and frankly, you really need some new summer clothes. Spring was drawing to a close, and you couldn’t just wear hoodies and leggings all year round, no matter how much you wanted to.

The mall was about two blocks away from the Starbucks, and as you chugged down your coffee, you slid your phone out of your back pocket of your jeans to see multiple notifications from Instagram. Just more people liking your posts, and some DMs, but you just rolled your eyes. You got tired of explaining on your stories that they were broken, and Instagram had no intent on trying to adjust it so you’d be able to view your messages and reply. You sighed, slipping it back into your pocket as you made your way through the entrance of the shopping mall.

Sasha was seated at a table in the cafeteria near the entrance you had just walked through. She jumped out of her seat, a wide smile on her lips as she strutted up to your form.

“You ate without me?” you pouted, smelling the leftover scent of pizza wash over you.

“Yeah, but don’t worry, I’m still hungry,” Sasha waved her hand. This girl had the fastest metabolism of a person you had ever met, so her statement didn’t really phase you.

“Okay, so, before I spend all my money and forget, we have to go to the lingerie shop,” you stated, stomping your way to the escalators.

“I’m guessing your OnlyFans is doing good?” she asked, knowing just how expensive this certain store was as she lingered behind you.

“Dude, you literally wouldn’t believe it,” you sighed dreamily. “If I had known how much money I’d be making, I would’ve done it way sooner. You should seriously consider making your own.”

“Nah, I’ll just let you have the spotlight on this one,” she snickered as the both of you stepped on the moving staircase. “Are they all creepy old men?”

“No, surprisingly, there’s a few people I have classes with that follow me,” you gossiped. “You know Jean from economics?”

Sasha nodded, eyes widening, “No fucking way, he’s my friend! I’m not that surprised though, he’s always talking to girls and asking for their Instagrams.”

“He’s never even talked to me, right? But he buys every single post I put out! Which is crazy, considering it’d just be cheaper for him to buy the subscription,” you shrugged, stepping off the escalator and walking shortly afterwards into the lingerie store. “That’s what most my viewers do, anyways.”

“Seen anyone else interesting?” Sasha hummed, eyeing the various garments surrounding her in intrigue.

Your eyes honed in on a strappy bright red one piece, “Just a few of his friends, I think. One of them is pretty cute, actually, but he’s only got one picture up.”

“You talking about Eren?”

You nodded, eyes lighting up, “Yeah, do you know him? I’ve never seen him around campus before.”

Sasha was beginning to plot, “Yeah he usually hangs out with Armin and Mikasa, but he goes to a lot of house parties. You know, actually, I think Jean is throwing one soon. He rented a cabin for after finals, you should come!”

“Won’t that be weird?” you scrunched your face, picking up the red one piece and moving onto the next garment that caught your eye. “Like I said, I’ve never even talked to him.”

“Yeah but you know Mikasa and me,” she raised her thumb towards herself. “Eren will be there too.”

“All I said was that I thought he was cute, Sasha,” you laughed her off. “But I’ll think about it. Text me the details and I’ll let you know if I’m free.”

“Something tells me Jean would be very happy to see you there,” Sasha chuckled, you giggling in response to her suggestive comment. The two of you picked through the selection of skimpy clothing, taking it up the cashier to check out.

You walked out of the store together, giggling over small banter. Your trip to the mall was quick after that, and in the end you held a grip full of medium sized paper bags, walking outside the mall with Sasha.

“Oh, hey!” Sasha suddenly quipped, placing her bags on the sidewalk, pulling her phone out of her crossbody bag. “We should take a picture!”

“Sasha I’m not even wearing lipstick,” you half heartedly complained, getting ready to pose next to your best friend.

“Literally, you’re so fucking hot,” she deadpanned, turning her head to look you directly in the eyes. “Shut up and get in, bitch.”

You threw your head back in laughter, leaning in on the left side of her frame, pushing your hair framing your face behind your ear. You smiled widely while Sasha did the same, hearing a soft click of her phone, indicating the photo was taken. Your phone vibrated in your pocket, bringing it out to see a notification stating she had posted it to her story. You’d repost it to your story later after you grabbed food, you decided, the conversation turning to the topic of where the two of you would eat before heading back to your apartment to get drunk in celebration of your semesters ending.

Eren and his two friends sat crowded in Jean’s dorm room bathroom, passing around a blunt. He could hear Connie coughing harshly as it was passed to Eren, the boy taking a deep drag of the backwoods cigarillo. Exhaling slowly, Eren brought his phone out of his hoodie pocket to open it up to change the song playing, his phone instantly opening to Instagram.

Distracted now by his favorite obsession, he glanced at the stories section, her name front in the line, glowing in that now familiar pink and purple circle. Eren couldn’t have tapped faster, and when he did, his mouth hung open.

“Yo,” Eren spoke loudly, shoving his phone in Jean and Connie’s faces. “Sasha knows this girl?”

“Yeah, they’re like best friends,” Connie quirked an eyebrow. “You don’t know her?”

“No, I just saw we had mutual friends,” Eren’s eyebrows knitted together. “How come we’ve never hung out with her before?”

“I don’t know actually,” Jean said, exhaling the blunt after it was passed to him from Eren’s fingertips. “I had a class with her this semester, she seems nice.”

“You’re only saying that because she’s hot,” Connie chuckled. “I bet you’ve never even talked to the girl.”

Jean’s face ignited in a fierce blush as he found interest in the ceiling tiles, “Shut up. It’s harder to talk to girls than it looks. You should know that, Connie.”

“Hey! I talk to girls!” Connie leaned up from his seated position on the floor.

“Idiots,” Eren sighed, rolling his eyes. “Neither of you have any game.”

“Not all of us are as gifted as you are, Eren,” Connie protested, a smirk spreading across his lips. “You could talk to a fucking mouse and it’d figure out someway to talk back.”

Eren rolled his eyes again, harder this time, “You just talk to girls like they’re human beings, it’s not that fucking hard.”

“Oh yeah? Betcha’ won’t be saying that whenever you see that girl around,” Jean teased, finally passing the blunt to Connie in the rotation, Connie muttering something about hogging it.

Eren shifted uncomfortably on the closed toilet seat, “Whatever, Jean.”

“Speak of the fucking devil!” Jean shouted, scaring the very high pair of boys at the suddenness. “Sasha just texted me asking if she can bring her this weekend to the cabin!”

Eren’s heart erupted into a flutter of uneven beats, his face heating up. This girl he had been drooling over was going to be at a party, with him? He suddenly felt like a teenager, the idea of seeing his precious addiction face to face giving him full blown anxiety.

Soft thuds of the bass of the stereo filled the room, catchy pop music drawing Eren out of his stupor to gaze hastily around the room, searching.

“What’s up with you tonight?” Armin had asked him, drawing his attention away once again. “It’s been an hour since the party started and you’ve barely drunk anything.”

Taking note of the full red solo cup in his hand, flickering his gaze between the liquid and his best friend, Eren shrugged and tipped the rim back in his lips, opening his throat and taking large gulps until the cup was empty. “Happy?”

Armin laughed loudly, although only having two strong drinks, his best friend was beginning to feel the numbness of intoxication, “You’re really out of it tonight, everything alright?”

“Yeah I’m fine, just waiting for the smoke sesh so I’m not cross faded,” Eren smirked, lying easily. “Last time I got too drunk and decided to rip Jean’s bong, I woke up in some random front yard with one shoe on.”

Armin shook his head in disbelief, “You really need to start making better life choices, Eren.”

Eren shook the empty solo cup in front of his friend, “I’m trying here.”

Truthfully, the reason Eren wasn’t halfway to getting shit faced was because he didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the girl of his dreams. She still hadn’t shown up yet, and Eren was getting anxious that she wasn’t going to show. Sasha and Mikasa hadn’t shown up yet either, which gave him a resemblance of hope that the three of you were together, and on your way currently to the party. His heart thudded heavily in his ribcage as he heard the jingle of the front door turn, and his attention was fully concentrated on the door frame ahead of him. His jaw dropped at the sight, his breath caught in his throat.

You asked Sasha earlier that day what you should wear to the party, and Sasha had just waved and told you whatever you felt looked the best. Not exactly helpful, you had just decided on black ripped jeans and a low cut shirt, paired with your favorite leather jacket and trusty Vans. You felt incredibly undressed as Sasha drove to Mikasa’s house, watching her modelesque frame saunter out her front door towards the back car doors.

“Mikasa, you could make a paper bag look hot,” you showered her with appreciation, her face blushing in response as she tugged her long sleeved body con dress towards her knees. “Fuck, should I have worn a dress? How nice is everyone else dressed?”

Sasha couldn’t have given two fucks about how she dressed in front of her friends, adorned in blue skinny jeans and a causal crop top, although her face was beat to the Gods, “Shut the fuck up, you’re one to talk about making paper bags look good. Besides, knowing the boys they probably made minimal effort, probably all wearing sweatpants.”

The three of you snickered at this, and Sasha pushed the car into drive and set out on your 45 minute journey into the mountains. Nerves hadn’t set in until you were face to face with the cabin door, nervous that the girls’ friends weren’t going to like you. Putting a brave face on, Mikasa grasped the door knob and pushed it open, the three of you gliding in.

Eren honestly had wanted to drop down to his knees and kiss the ground you walked on. You were the most beautiful creature he had ever seen. Your eyes were searching, for what neither of you knew, until your eyes had finally landed on him. You smiled politely, moving your hand up in a quick wave to both him and Armin.

Eren couldn’t fathom moving any single part of his body, so awestruck by you. Jean shook Eren out of his dumbstricken state with a hard pat to his shoulder, “Why don’t you go introduce yourself, Eren?”

“Fuck off, horse face,” Eren spat, trying to will himself to either make strides towards you or to break his gaze, neither working. “Why don’t you?”

“I’d love to,” he smiled wickedly, inspired by liquid courage to lock arms with Eren and force him closer to the trio of girls that had finally made their appearance. Armin followed behind, Connie emerging out of the bathroom to give his hello’s to his best friend Sasha and company.

Eren could hear his heart beat in his ears as he stopped right in front of you, forcing his mouth closed in a tight lipped grimace. He felt like a fucking teenager with a crush.

“Hi,” you introduced yourself, smiling widely. “It’s so nice to finally meet you guys!”

“Nice to meet you too!” Armin spoke up, oblivious to his friends’ reaction to the fresh pretty face of yours.

Jean and Connie wouldn’t admit it, but they were feeling their own nervousness. Jean’s out of guilt as he scanned your body top to bottom, Connie’s natural shyness kicking in due to the newcomer. Both were able to overcome it though, and offer up their own introductions. Your eyes landed on Eren once again, tilting your head, waiting for his intro.

“I’m Eren,” he swallowed. “Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” you looked down, smiling softly. You raised your hand then, looking up at the boys in front of you, revealing a handle of vodka. “I brought a gift with me too!”

“My kinda girl!” Jean spoke just a bit too enthusiastically. “Shots, shots, shots!”

Connie pumped his fist, chiming in, the rest of the party joining as well as the crowd made their way into the kitchen. Eren purposely hung back, trying to keep as close to you as possible.

“You happen to bring any chasers with you?” he had leaned in, tickling the side of your head with his breath.

“No, I totally forgot,” you sheepishly admitted.

“Looks like we’re all gonna get plastered then,” he chuckled smoothly, sending goosebumps down your body.

“Is it really a party then if at least one person doesn’t have their head in a toilet?” you had easily quipped back, feeling more comfortable now that the introductions were out of the way.

Eren hummed in half hearted agreement, feeling slightly more relaxed himself. Besides, his attention was being grasped by the plastic shot glass being shoved in his hand, as well as your dainty one. The group held up the shot glasses, a few phone cameras capturing the moment to post on their stories, and you all swung your heads back to allow the bitter liquid to trickle down your throats. Eren made a mild face, taking a stolen glance at your own to see your grimace, sticking your tongue out in disbelief at the taste.

Another hour had passed by, and Eren was running out of reasons to follow you around the cabin as you shifted between conversations to get to know the group of friends better. You hadn’t really noticed him trailing behind you, nor did you really care because you were very quickly warming up to Eren. It also didn’t hurt that he looked exceptionally better in person. His hair was lazily swung into a half top bun, wearing a couple of gold chains with his white tee tightly hugging his torso, tucked seamlessly into black ripped jeans displaying his muscular knee caps. Eren was definitely a looker, you shifted your gaze up to his face as he made some witty comment to Sasha, his eyes flickering to your face to catch your reaction.

“Oh my god, there was this one time,” Sasha spoke your name. “She had gotten so high during last year’s spring break, and the two of us and Mikasa came up with the brilliant idea of becoming one with nature. So, naturally, we ran to Walmart and bought this tent on clearance. Turns out it was made for kids, so none of us actually fit inside when we got back to Mikasa’s house. Mikasa and I curled up in a ball, surrounded by snacks, and this smart girl over here decided it was the best choice to just lay out on the lawn and pass out.”

“I wanted to watch the sun rise!” you laughed, trying to quickly explain yourself to Eren’s amused smirk. “And the grass was just so nice that night!”

“The grass was basically straw,” Sasha countered teasingly. “Twenty degrees outside, absolutely freezing. She was MIA for like a week afterwards with a cold.”

You shrugged carelessly, “Worth it.”

Now the two of you had sleeping on lawns in common? Eren scoffed inwardly. Yup, it was official, you were his soulmate. Still though, the topic of why you were so casual in person while your naked pictures existed online tickled his thoughts. He was hoping that somehow it’d get brought up naturally in conversation, saving himself the embarrassment if you were to get offended by his questioning. So far it seemed you liked him, not having said a word about him trailing after you like a lost puppy. Jean had been sending him knowing looks all night, Connie shooting two thumbs up at Eren while Armin looked on in confusion.

Mikasa had strolled out of the bathroom finally, joining the trio who stood casually in the living room, simply stating, “I’m starving. You guys think they deliver pizza out here?”

Sasha’s eyes widened in excitement, “I don’t care if it takes an hour to get here. We’re ordering right now.”

Already ahead of the two, your phone was pulled out in your hands to open up the Dominoes app, punching in the location of the party and placing the order online. Eren watched this all, peering over your hands to see the total.

“Guys, we should chip in,” Eren called out, grabbing the boys’ attention. “We’re ordering pizza.”

“No, no!” you protested, confirming the order. “It’s really fine, my treat.”

“But that’s really expensive,” he frowned, the group all joined together in the living room.

“Don’t worry, she’s got that OnlyFans money,” Sasha waved off Eren’s concern.

“OnlyFans?” Armin questioned, darting his eyes in between Sasha and you. “What’s that?”

Jean hid his blushing cheeks and your eyes flickered to him, then back to Armin, “I sell naked pictures online.”

“So what, a bunch of old guys give you money?” Armin had asked innocently, not judgemental in the slightest.

You giggled, relieved he wasn’t asking in a demeaning manner, “Actually, you’d be really surprised about who you know follows me. There’s a lot of people from school.”

Eren’s blood ran cold as he felt a sudden onset of embarrassment. Did that mean you had known this entire time Eren was one of these followers? If you did, you didn’t let on to it, smiling shyly as the questions ended. Eren hadn’t been done with the conversation, but pride from exposing himself in front of his friends kept his mouth shut.

It was around one in the morning when the party was at its peak. Sasha was being held up by her legs by Connie as she did a keg stand, you and the group cheering the girl on in your own drunken hazes. She tapped the large can, indicating she was finished, Connie settling her down on solid ground as she belched loudly.

“That was fucking awesome, Sasha!” you giggled, throwing your arms up and around her. You were definitely feeling the shots you had been feeding yourself all night, holding your red solo cup high above the girl so it wouldn’t slosh on her.

“You should totally try it!” she encouraged devilishly.

You pouted then, taking a moment to consider, “I’ve never done a keg stand before, what if I can’t do it?”

“I’ll help you!” Eren all but pounced on the opportunity, your smile turning into a tipsy giggle. “It’s not that hard, you just keep chugging until you can’t anymore. I’ll hold you, you got this.”

You lightly blushed, nodding your head at the encouragement, bringing a fist to your chest as a salute, “I’ll do it! We gotta’ put on a cool song though, if I’m going to fail miserably I might as well have a good song to do it to.”

Mikasa volunteered, as she was already DJ, having the best music taste out of everyone in the group. She dug her phone out of her pocket, switching over to a ‘Pursuit of Happiness’ remix. Connie whooped at the choice, and everyone began to chant your name as you hovered by the keg, very nervous. Eren then placed his large hand on the small of your back, leaning in to reassure you once again. You gulped, nodding that you were ready to get into position.

“Okay, so you’re going to lean your arms on the top of the can, and I’ll grab your legs. Like when you were a kid and you’d do that stupid wheelbarrel thing,” Eren easily explained, chuckling lightly. “Use your hands to let me know when you’re done.”

You did as you were told, resting your upper body against the keg as Eren hooked his arms around your calves. He couldn’t help but admire how strong your legs felt in his grasp, and how right it felt to finally have some bodily contact. He had been trying to figure out a natural way all night, and he was bubbling over in excitement, the chance had arisen, glorious in the promise of touch.

You placed your lips hesitantly around the tap, opening it up into your mouth, and began to chug. ‘Chug, chug, chug!’ was chanted all around you, even Mikasa joining in on the fun. Fists bumped in the air, and you felt like the coolest fucking person in the world. Doing a keg stand wasn’t exactly in your goals list, but fuck did it feel like it should’ve been as your ego inflated.

“That’s it, you’re doing great!” Eren’s thumbs brushed the inside of your knees, leaning in to whisper. “Good girl.”

You sputtered around the tap, choking harshly. You removed your mouth quickly to gasp for air, and the tap shot up all over your shirt, jacket long forgotten resting on the sofa in the living room. Eren moved your legs down to the floor quickly seeing this, and wrapped his arm around your waist to steady you as your arm shot out to grab onto something, in this case his other arm.

“You alright?” Jean asked, a look of concern washing over his features as you finally got some air into your lungs.

“Yeah,” you coughed again, blushing in embarrassment. “I definitely made a mess though.”

“I brought some extra clothes with me,” Eren offered quickly. “One of these idiots always manages to somehow spill something within the first hour of drinking. I’ll show you where my bag is at.”

You smiled in appreciation, biting your tongue to accuse him of purposely throwing you off your game with his little praise that had your knees buckling. He unwound his arm, taking your hand and leading you to the staircase by the entryway, your smaller form following behind him as he thudded up the stairs. Three doors greeted you at the top, and he led you into the master bedroom, plainly decorated and lacking personal belongings. You watched as he chucked a duffle bag onto the mattress, unzipping it and going through his clothes. He found a sweatshirt, smirking inwardly as it had been one of his old sports ones with his last name embroidered on the back. Proud he could provide a claim to you, he extended it to you, and you gladly accepted it.

“Well, you did really well in the beginning there,” he chuckled, whisking his stray baby hairs behind his ear. “Sucks about the shirt though. The first time I tried to do a keg stand, I barfed everywhere.”

You laughed lightly, fingering the hem of your shirt, “I guess it could’ve been a lot worse. Still, at least I can check this off my bucket list.”

Eren’s eyebrows shot into his hairline as you lifted your shirt to reveal your bare stomach, and he whisked his body completely around so you didn’t see his reddened cheeks, “You could’ve asked me to leave.”

Behind him, you let a mischievous smirk cross your lips, “Nothing you haven’t seen before.”

Eren’s mouth fell open at your bold statement, letting his words leave before he could stop them, “You know?”

“Of course,” you discarded the sodden shirt to the floor, sitting on the bed instead of tossing the sweatshirt on. “You’re my favorite viewer.”

He caught your movement in the corner of his eye, and he turned his head to take in the sight. Fuck, you were even more beautiful in person. Your bra was white and pretty and dainty, pushing your tits together, accentuating cleavage that Eren wanted to bury his face in. His gaze moved up to your face, smiling so innocently at him as he let out a dark chuckle, “Is that so?”

You hummed, leaning back to expose your form a bit more, feeling confident from the alcohol, “You like every one of my pictures, you buy all my content, you’re pretty cute, of course you’re my favorite.”

Eren’s ego soared as he turned his body completely towards you, taking a small step forward, “You’re just so beautiful, how could I not? I do have to ask this though, how come you never answered any of my messages?”

“Oh, my DMs are broken. Instagram doesn’t let me view them or respond,” you explained easily. “You know, you could’ve hit me up on OnlyFans, I definitely would have answered you.”

A blush crept up on Eren again as he averted his gaze to the floor, “I didn’t think about that.”

You giggled softly, “What’d you send me anyways?”

“I asked you out on a date,” he admitted, growing more nervous. “Told you that you were really pretty. Y’know, stuff you probably get all the time.”

“Most of my messages are from guys trying to take me out drinking and to get a quick fuck,” you scoffed. “Y’know, if the offer is still on the table, I’d really like to take you up on it.”

“Really?” Eren’s eyes met yours in surprise, you watched his Adam’s apple bob along his throat as he gulped. “You’d want to go out with me?”

“Yeah, who else is going to hold me up when I try to do a keg stand again?” you smiled sheepishly, batting your eyelashes. Eren’s hands twitched at his sides, fuck, you were so pretty.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked seriously, his gaze hardening as he felt a wave of possessiveness. In his mind, you were already his girlfriend. You had accepted his date, and he’d be damned if he didn’t try to push his luck further.

Eren had never felt the way he feels right now. He took immediate notice of your blushing cheeks, your confident lean turn into a shy arch as you pushed your body into a hunched over seating position. Eren had experience with girls, that everyone knew as a fact, he was very far from being a virgin. You made him feel like a fucking virgin, heart beating wildly in his chest. All he wanted to do was to grab you and hide you away for his own greedy pleasure, the darkest parts of his mind tickled by the thought. He had laid a claim to you way before he had ever met you, and he wouldn’t let you escape now that he had you here, alone.

You didn’t answer his request, you pushed yourself off the mattress and met his staggering stance halfway. Unknown to his wicked thoughts, his past month of obsessing of you, you leaned up, gently brushing your lips against his. No one had ever asked you this simple question before, instead just taking the action as if they had owned you, and you thought to yourself that you could really love this boy who presented himself so innocently to you.

The soft placement of your lips to his was not enough, and Eren buried his mouth with your own, moving both of his hands to cup your face. He could feel your jaw beneath the pads of his fingertips as you attempted to meet his pace, sensual and passionate. The need for air forgotten for the both of you, sucking in deeply through your noses as the space continued to close between your bodies.

“Gonna take you someplace real nice,” muttered Eren as he pulled away slightly to gaze his half lidded eyes on your fluttering eyelashes, your gaze now hidden from him. “I know you like that one place in the city, I saw your little post of you wearing that tight dress. You looked so fucking pretty.”

Tingles shivered up your bones, a sharp intake of breath as you fluttered your eyes open to take in his deep lustful expression, “I’ll wear it for you, if you want.”

“Wear my necklace too.”

You pulled away completely this time, baffled, “Your necklace?”

“The one with the ‘E’ on it,” he breathed, moving forward to accommodate the sudden distance, his lips meeting the corner of your mouth. You realized then what he was referring to, a small smirk uplifting his kiss. You wouldn’t tell him though that the necklace in question was just some random trinket with no meaning you had purchased, or that you hadn’t even recognized the pretty cursive as a letter. You figured out very quickly Eren’s little crush was a bit more involved than just him attached to your hip at this party. No, it was way deeper than that. All of the likes, the money, the new information of messages made sense to you. Eren had believed you were his, and he had sought out confirmation all night to prove it.

“Okay,” you played along to his fantasy, an expert since it was your job online already to provide this to your viewers. “What else do you want me to wear?”

“There’s this one set of lingerie,” Eren was the one to pull back now, letting his teal eyes trail downwards to your chest, displeased by the lack of skin shown to him in that instance. “The black lacy one, fuck, wear that. You look so fucking sexy in that.”

“You don’t like when I wear white?” you pouted, bringing your hands to rest against the peak of your breasts, framing them like a picture.

“I like anything you wear,” a smirk crossed his features, eyes locked in on your tits. “Or what you don’t wear.”

You were met with two choices then. One, kiss Eren and get dressed and save yourself for your date, or two, fulfill his now present fantasy of his that was beginning to morph into your own. You mentally battled the decision in your mind, feeling the desire curl in your stomach at each option. If you were to give in now, Eren might not want to continue to chase after you, the promise of an actual date forgotten. Not to mention the party of people down stairs, the thud of music softened behind the closed door of the bedroom indicating it was still in full swing. Eren saw your hesitation, and let his hands travel to your elbows comfortingly.

“I know we technically just met,” he started, eyes now locked in on yours in genuine honesty. “But I really like you. You’re all I’ve thought about for the past month, so if you don’t feel comfortable going any further, that’s okay, I’ll wait. I’ve waited this long.”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” you bit your lip as you watched his teal orbs flicker to your mouth. “It’s just — oh God, this is embarrassing to talk about so soon.”

“Shh, it’s okay, I won’t judge,” he cooed, bringing just a hand up to soothe over your cheek.

“I’m not exactly quiet,” you admitted, gesturing towards the floor. “I don’t really want to be the girl who fucks someone at the first party they show up to.”

Eren hadn’t predicted you to be loud in his fantasies, but he was really wishing he had. He held back a groan at your confession, images of what could be filling his dirty mind, “Fuck, okay, no problem. I don’t have any condoms with me anyways.”

“Actually,” you drawled. “I’m on the pill, so as far as that goes, that doesn’t really matter. I’m clean too, I haven’t been with anyone in a long time.”

Boxes were being ticked quickly off of Eren’s checklist, and he let his jaw hang open, “I’m clean too, I don’t fuck anyone without a condom, to be honest.”

I’m going to fuck her raw, is all that was going through his mind. Treat her so good, take her out wearing her pretty little dress and treat her like a fucking princess.

“Please tell me you’re free tomorrow,” Eren pleaded. “I’ll take us fucking anywhere you want.”

“I am, actually,” you batted your eyelashes.

“Cool,” he muttered, beginning to feel drawn into your lips again. As you began to lean back in, a sharp knock sounded at the door.

“Hey! Everything alright?” you both froze, recognizing the voice as Armin’s. Of course he’d be the only one to dare interrupt, and the party below had discouraged him. Eren had taken you upstairs, and while they were all aware of the possibility of the two of you would be hooking up, Armin was more concerned that one or both of you had gotten sick and were in need of help.

“Yeah, we’re fine! Be out in a second!” Eren shouted, feeling suddenly frazzled from the intense interaction between you two. If Armin had opened the door, seeing the two of you locked in together so closely, making out feverishly, it would be completely mortifying. Especially since it wouldn’t be the first time Armin had accidentally seen his best friend in a suggestive situation.

You pecked his lips quickly then, breaking out of his embrace to throw his sweatshirt over your head. Eren was counting backwards in his head to rid himself of the half erection in his pants, nearly impossible as he thought about how pretty you looked in his clothing.

“C’mon,” you tugged at his hand, urging him to follow you back downstairs. “We have a pizza to eat and friends to convince that we definitely didn’t just fuck for ten minutes.”

The group hadn’t made a single comment when you two rejoined the party, only just knowing smirks from Jean and Connie to Eren. Sasha had wiggled her eyebrows at you, and you quickly pulled her and Mikasa into the bathroom to recap what had just occurred upstairs. The girls clapped drunkenly at your news of a date, incredibly excited that their best friend was finally going out with a boy. The night had ended around three in the morning, bodies scattered throughout the house to pass out wherever they pleased. Eren had continued to stay by you the rest of the night, this time, not shy at all as he stole touches to your back. And when it came time to pass out, you felt smugness as he rested his head on your back while you laid on your side on the same bed upstairs, his arm thrown tightly around your waist. Sasha curled up in front of you, your own head snuggling into her shoulder as the room spun you into a deep slumber.

You sat at a vanity in your apartment bedroom the next evening, applying various makeups to your face. Mikasa had awoken you and Sasha pretty early the next morning, wanting to go home so she could get ready for her job. Eren snored quietly behind you as you tried your best to maneuver out of his grasp, and the three of you cleaned up the cups and plates scattered around the house as a thank you to Jean for the invitation. Sasha had driven you all the way back to your place when you realized you were still wearing Eren’s hoodie, and you smirked. Now he definitely had a reason to get you on this date tonight, you had something that belonged to him.

When Eren had woken up, he truly believed for a few minutes that you had just been a dream. Pictures and videos posted all over Instagram had shown him differently though, the two of you leaning against each other on the leather couch smiling drunkenly on Armin’s story had his heart pounding. His arm was around your shoulders, your head was tilted in the crook of his neck, and then Eren remembered that he was going to see you again tonight. He took a screenshot before the story moved on to a video of the group in a heated discussion about music tastes, a quiet chuckle made its way out of his throat as he recounted memories that would become very fond to him.

He had posted the picture then to his Instagram, a few others followed after that included him and his other friends. Eren tagged all of the people, but most importantly, the picture of the two of you was the first in the line up of the photo set. A few messages hit his inbox after he hit the post button, some classmates asking if you were his girlfriend, because you were wearing his sweatshirt in the photo. He decided to not respond, because as much as he wanted to tell them yes, he knew he’d be jumping the gun. His heart raced as a notification popped up — you had liked the picture, and added a comment, ‘last night was a movie’ with a kiss emoji. When he refreshed the page, your lit up story showed him that you had even reposted his photo set. His ego soared, his affections no longer one sided, and he couldn’t fucking wait to take you out later and show you the best time he could.

Eren had gotten your phone number from Sasha not long before your date, asking for your address and trying to pick out a time to head out to dinner. You tapped a response quickly, and looked at the clock to gauge how much time you’d need to be fully ready. That had been about three hours ago, your body had been scrubbed and shaved, hair curled prettily down your back as you added the final touches of lipstick to your lips. The dress Eren had talked about was laid out on your perfectly made bed, a pretty satin champagne colored fabric, and your apartment was fairly clean, fully expecting his company after the date of all went well. You dressed yourself easily, slipping on black heels when you heard the chime of your phone, letting you know Eren was awaiting you outside.

When the elevator doors chimed open as you walked into your lobby, you saw from the entrance doors Eren leaned back casually against the Uber he had offered to pay for. His attention immediately focused on your form as you exited your building, his gaze flickered all over your body.

“You look incredible,” Eren easily complimented, pushing himself up to stand straight. He leaned in to kiss your blushing cheek as you muttered a quiet ‘thank you’, and he pulled the door handle of the sleek black car, ushering you inside. He slammed it closed after you had positioned yourself comfortably, giving the driver a soft greeting as Eren circled around the back, getting in on the opposite side. The directions were already plugged into the driver’s GPS, and it took less than twenty minutes to get to the restaurant in question.

This gave you enough time to take in Eren’s appearance, and damn if you wouldn’t have allowed yourself to do so, the sight practically mouth watering. His hair hung low in a messy bun, a few complementary strands hanging out to frame his sharp jawline. His torso was adorned in a sheer white long sleeve button up, a small portion of his chest revealed as he had left the top buttons alone, chains hanging against his collarbones, silver in color this time. Black slacks that tightened around his thighs and calves had you biting your lip in appreciation, his legs spread as he took up space in the backseat.

“Staring isn’t very polite,” he had leaned in, taking notice of your devouring gaze.

“Stop dressing like a whore and maybe I won’t stare,” you teased back, chuckling quietly when he swatted your exposed thigh lightly. He kept his hand there for the rest of the drive, enjoying the comfortable silence as the quiet hum of the radio filled in the gaps.

When the Uber had slowed to a stop outside of the fancy restaurant Eren had insisted taking you to, he swung the door open before you had a chance to reach for the handle on your side. He raced to the other side of the car, pulling open the door and extending his hand out for you to grasp onto. You circled your fingers around his palm, and he tightened his grasp as you swung your legs over the flooring, and stood before him. The two of you thanked the driver, and he sped away shortly after. Hand still locked in with yours, Eren led the way inside the opened doors of the restaurant. Inside, a hostess wearing a very classy black uniform greeted the two of you.

“Reservation for Eren,” he spoke smoothly, and your eyes widened in surprise, expecting to have sat and waited for at least a half an hour before you had been seated.

“Right this way,” she smiled politely, two menus in her hands as she welcomed you into the dining area. You followed behind Eren, realizing that this place must’ve been a lot more expensive than you originally had gauged. All the guests appeared in their very best formal attire, and the chatter was soft as the beautiful notes of a piano resounded throughout the space. While you couldn’t pinpoint exactly where the music was coming from, you had a strong feeling that there was a physical player somewhere in the midst, it sounded so clear and professional. When the hostess had sat you down in a booth secluded against the furthest set wall, she smiled politely once more and informed you that the waiter would be with you soon.

“Eren,” you hissed as you sat opposite of his smirking form. “This place is stupid fancy!”

“Don’t worry about it,” he waved easily. “I got it, I promise.”

“How are you able to afford this? I’ve got a little bit of money and even I couldn’t go some place this nice,” you questioned, feeling a small pang of guilt. He was going to go broke trying to treat you to a very nice, albeit expensive, meal.

“My dad is a doctor,” he shrugged, picking up the menu and eyeing over their drink selection. “He sends me money whenever I come around and help around his office.”

“Following in the family footsteps?” you tried at the conversation, realizing you virtually knew nothing about the boy in front of you.

“Nah, I’m more into the business side of things,” he smiled up at you then, showing off his pearly white teeth. “What about you? What are you majoring in?”

You spoke of your major, Eren carefully listening in of your passions and your goals for your future ahead. He was pleased to hear that you were ambitious, smiling as he was enamored by your speech. Not that he minded a single bit about your online job, but to hear that you had a legitimate career goal soothed his worries.

A finely dressed waiter greeted you shortly, introducing himself and taking the both of your orders in one go, and stole away the menus. The rest of the date flew by quickly, tipsy from your cocktails and full of giggles as the two of you got to know one another. Although Eren was already knowledgeable about a number of your likes and dislikes and personality quirks due to Instagram, you had the undisguisable pleasure of learning his right then and there.

“So,” you leaned your elbows onto the table, resting your chin atop of your closed fists. “Tell me, how many girls have you taken here before?”

“Not a single one,” he chuckled lowly, passing the black booklet encasing his credit card as the waiter stopped at the table. “This is actually my first time taking anyone out somewhere so fancy. Usually I just hang out at the more lowkey spots around campus.”

“I would’ve been totally okay with going somewhere like that instead,” you frowned, that same guilt flooding back to your stomach. Eren hadn’t even let you see the bill before he had given it away, so you were completely ignorant as far as how far the total rang up. “You really didn’t have to take me out to such an expensive place.”

He rolled his eyes playfully, smirking as he did so, “Had to take my favorite girl somewhere nice, show you off in that gorgeous dress of yours.”

You blushed, moving your fists to hold your cheeks to try and contain the heat, “Fine, but next time, I want to see one of these ‘lowkey spots’.”

“Next time, huh?” Eren mused cockily.

“Yes, I guess I had a really great time tonight, consider yourself honored,” you giggled half heartedly.

“Oh believe me, I do.”

Eren had walked you to the front door of your apartment like the gentleman he was. Really, he was just trying to procrastinate leaving you, not wanting the night to be over with quite yet. Luckily, you were on the exact same page as he stood awkwardly behind you while you unlocked your front door.

You turned, an eyebrow raised, “Well? Are you coming in or what?”

“Say less,” he sighed in relief, following your sauntering frame inside your apartment. He was initially impressed as you flicked the light switch on the wall up, illuminating your precious space. Very clean and organized, he felt a pang of jealousy, knowing his own dorm room was scattered with clothes and empty water bottles. If he had only seen what your living space looked like before you had straightened up, he might have felt better about himself.

“I have some róse in the fridge,” you offered, making your way to the kitchen. “Would you like a glass?”

“No lie, that’s literally my favorite wine,” Eren groaned. “How are you this perfect?”

You laughed loudly, grabbing two wine glasses from your cabinet, opening your fridge and retrieving the bottle. Filling the glasses generously, you left the bottle on your kitchen counter and turned around, Eren a lot closer than where you had left him a moment ago. You extended his cup, which he graciously took and sipped. You mirrored him, gulping down your own mouthful.

“Y’know,” he started, gazing around your kitchen space. “For all that talk of mimosas in your Instagram bio, I really expected there to be a lot more pictures of you drinking them.”

You chuckled once again, “Believe me, I have plenty of orange juice, vodka, and champagne here. We had such a classy dinner, I thought I’d try and match it with some wine. Besides, vodka brings out the worst in me.”

“Ah, lady in the streets, freak in the sheets,” he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. You rolled your eyes, swatting his bicep harmlessly. “I get what you’re about at brunch with the girls.”

“If I had a nickel for every time Mikasa had to peel me and Sasha off the pavement after mimosas and scones, I’d be fucking rich,” you giggled once again, raising the glass to your lips.

“I’m really surprised we hadn’t met each other before last night, especially because Mikasa and I have been best friends since we were little,” Eren raised an eyebrow. “She’s basically my sister, and never once did she say anything about you, I only met Sasha because Connie’s attached to her hip and they share the same brain cell.”

“If it makes you feel better, I only knew Jean existed because we had a class together this semester,” you shrugged, purposefully leaving out the part where he consumed your content almost as much as Eren did.

“And of course me,” Eren smirked cheekily. “Because I’m your favorite viewer, like you said.”

“Don’t make me regret telling you that,” you pointed your glass towards him in a fake threat.

“It’s okay, you’re my favorite girl, so it evens itself out,” Eren placed his half drunk glass on the counter top, his gaze much more seductive. “Besides, you wore my necklace like I asked, I gotta tease you a little bit.”

“I wore pretty much everything you wanted me to,” you smirked, copying his actions and settling your own cup down.

“Did you now?” he took long strides to stand in front of you, toying with the necklace that he had laid claim over.

“I can show you, if you want to see,” you leaned up with full intentions of capturing his kiss.

“There’s nothing else I would rather do, pretty girl,” Eren cooed, licking his lips before meeting you in the middle. His arms circled around your waist, your hands wrapped around his shoulders as the pace started out slowly. Gentle was not what either of you wanted though, the desperation seeping in fast as his fingers explored your sides.

“Bedroom,” you gasped as he removed his lips and attached them to your jaw. He had no qualms of fucking you right out here in the kitchen, so he made no effort to move. Realizing you had to take the reins, you moved backwards from Eren, smirking as he groaned from the sudden distance. His eyes followed you predatorily as he began to chase after you, your back meeting the wooden paneling of your bedroom door. He attempted to recapture your mouth, but your hand was faster in turning the door knob, and you began to lead him back until your mattress met the backs of your knees.

“Want you to show me what you’re wearing under that dress,” Eren demanded, playing with the short hem that rested on your thighs.

You nodded, giving him the silent okay to take off the fabric encompassing your frame. You turned so your back faced him, moving your hair out of the way so he could unzip the back. His eyes followed as he fingered the silver zipper, agonizingly teasing himself as more and more was revealed to him. Seeing the straps of the black lace he had requested drunkenly the night before, his patience snapped as he pulled the metal piece down faster. You slid the tiny straps off your shoulders at the sweet feeling of release, and Eren’s dick was rock fucking solid as it pooled around your feet, you kicked the silky fabric to the side and faced him once more.

“You’re wearing everything I told you to,” he stated, drinking in the sight of your scantily clad body. “Good girl.”

You bit back an embarrassing moan at his praise, feeling the heat pool between your thighs. It came as such a shock to you to be so reactive to his words, and it came slamming into you that maybe you weren’t as vanilla as you had previously believed. You had a kink! It all made so much sense, why you felt such pride and arousal from complete strangers giving you their attention and compliments online. You yearned for it, craved the affections, and now that Eren stood in front of you, more than willing to shower you with pretty words, all the moisture in your mouth dried up. You wanted him so fucking bad.

Eren’s hands met the naked skin of your waist as his palms etched over your soft stomach. They met in the middle of your back, leaning your back onto the mattress as he climbed on top of you, a single hand coming up to work on discarding his button up. You rushed to help, pads of your fingers working the buttons open until he revealed his bare chest, his chains hanging above you. He worked his arms out quickly, tossing the fabric onto the floor. He brought his lips to yours, this kiss much more desperate and needy than the previous ones. His hands explored every inch of your body, the tops of your thighs to the swell of your breasts. He tugged on the soft lace at the top, slowly bringing the black fabric down to expose the complete fullness of your breasts. A sight familiar yet somehow new made Eren groan, the pads of his thumbs brushing against your pretty nipples, instantly hardening them.

You moaned lightly, throwing your head back and arching your back into his touch. How many times had Eren pictured you just like this?

“I fucked my fist so many fucking times thinking about you,” he confessed as he pressed slow open mouthed kisses to your collarbone. “You have no idea what your pictures did to me, no idea what you’re doing to me right now.”

He leaned his bottom half forward, pressing his thick clothed erection into the meat of your thigh. You let out a whimper, head foggy as his words made your pussy clench around nothing.

“You’re so fucking sexy,” he licked a stripe up your neck, leaving a wet saliva trail as he wrapped his lips around where he could feel your pulse the strongest. “My pretty girl.”

While Eren wanted to talk about what you did to him, all you could think about was what he was doing to you. The want and need that coursed through your veins was like a drug, you could feel him worming his way into your bloodstream, straight to the center of your heart and out to the warmest parts of your body. And you felt like an addict in that moment too, and every moment you would spend with Eren there after. You could feel his kisses as if he was underneath your skin, his entire body pressed against yours. So, so close, yet not close enough.

“Take off your pants,” you demanded shakily, placing your hands at the button of his slacks. He seemed to be on the same page of you yet again, and he followed his instructions without delay. He kicked out of the tight pants with ease, and you were more than pleased to see he had rid himself of his boxers too when you heard the thick slap of his cock meeting his stomach.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, eyes widened. “Eren, that’s not going to fit.”

“Don’t worry,” he soothed your hair back from your face, pressing a sweet kiss to the tip of your nose. “I’ll make sure you’re nice and wet for me.”

He started to move south, licking and giving attention to your right nipple as he did so. While the idea of him giving you thorough attention was erotic, you really wanted to please him for your first time together, unknown to you as Eren had thought the exact same thing, wanting to make you feel so good you’d come crawling back to him for more.

You pushed yourself up into a seating position, Eren’s eyes flickering in confusion as you stood up. This look didn’t last for long as you switched positions, pushing his torso onto the bed as you rested atop of him, feet placed firmly on the ground. His mouth hung open in disbelief as you began to return his assault on his neck, sucking and kissing and even biting along the columns. He let out a shaky groan, unable to hold it back as your hands traveled down his chest to his abdomen, feeling over the muscles there.

“What’re you doing, princess?” Eren questioned teasingly, not trying to get his hopes up on what your plan seemed to be.

“Wanna’ make you feel good,” your eyes flickered up to meet the dark green of his eyes, watching as his pupils expanded as the realization hit him like a brick.

“Fuck, okay,” Eren subconsciously widened his thighs then, bringing himself up to lean on his elbows as your kisses followed shortly behind the trail of your fingers.

Your mouth met the defined muscle of his stomach, and your eyes drifted up to catch Eren’s reaction as you neared closer to his aching cock. His eyes were hardened on you, brows knitted together, he almost looked angry. You kitten licked above his navel, and knew the anger was superficial as he threw his head back, letting out a quiet groan. You leaned your body in closer, pushing your exposed chest against his length. He whipped his head forward again at the contact, his lips opened as he inhaled shaky breaths.

Part of you had kind of wanted to hear Eren beg for your mouth, but the thought had quickly left your head as he entangled his fingers into the back of your scalp, massaging gently as he did so. Without a moment of hesitation, you lowered your face so you were eye to eye with his thick shaft. Honestly, you really hadn’t expected Eren to be this big. You had caught a glimpse of his half erect member tenting in his pants the night before, but as it stood to full attention, you were very much intimidated by the sheer size. You gulped, putting on a brace face as you continued on.

The sound of Eren’s groans growing louder as you licked a bold stripe from the bottom of his base to the tip of his head had stirred your cunt deeply. You were on your knees now, feet tucked up under you when you felt the wet patch of your panties touch the back of your heels. You licked a few more times, your right hand trailing down from his stomach to grip him more upright. You pulled all the saliva in your mouth onto your tongue, and wrapped your lips around his tip while your hand secured a purposeful grip at his base. You started slow, only sucking in your cheeks and moving your tongue along the underside of his head, pumping him at the same pace. You could feel beads of spit meet your knuckles, circling your tongue around the entirety of his fat mushroom tip. You smoothly licked along his slit, collecting his gushing precum and tasting the salty liquid.

Meanwhile as you had just started your worship of his cock, Eren was watching you in disbelief as your eyelashes fluttered along your cheeks, mouth prepping yourself to take in his full length. He had pulled himself into a sitting position now to provide you the best angle he could. He was in complete awe, furrowing eyebrows and his mouth hanging open, he knew in that moment there was absolutely no point of return. He would follow you from here on out, whether it be online or in reality, wherever you would go. Soulmates, he reminded himself while he collected your hair into his fist and away from your mouth. You were his fucking soulmate.

You pressed your knees upward, eyes opening. Eren’s pupils were blown out, his breathing irregular, and you wanted to watch him completely unfold as you angled your head to drop lower onto his shaft, hand working just a little faster.

“Fuck —“ he stuttered, eyes blazing into yours. “That’s it, take all of me, you’re such a good girl.”

You moaned lightly at his praise once again, and Eren’s cock hit the back of your throat. You pulled your lips up slowly, tongue caressing the underside of his member the entire time, and quickly brought your unoccupied hand into a fist. This was the first time you would be trying out this trick, reading it in a magazine since your gag reflex was very strong and this helped soothe the impulse. Eren was not prepared in the slightest as you removed the hand gripping him, letting his dick fall forward a bit more. You took a deep breathe through your nose, spit coating his entire cock now, and pushed your mouth fast back down his shaft.

Eren let out a strangled gasp when your nose brushed against his pelvis, “Holy fucking — fuck. Shit, yeah, just like that. You look so fucking pretty right now.”

Tears were threatening the spill over your lash line and you bobbed your head furiously, taking in as much as you could before you gagged. You stared up at him the entire time, watching his face screw together as you lapped and sucked his cock. Your jaw was aching already from his size, minding your teeth placement as you quickened your pace. You returned your hand to wrap and pump whatever your mouth wasn’t able to reach as you set yourself into a more comfortable pattern. Your other hand cupped his balls, swirling them softly in your palms.

Eren’s fingers yanked you back, his dick falling out of your lips in a soft pop, as you looked up in confusion, “Gonna’ stop you there baby, gonna’ make me cum.”

His hand in your hair guided you back up to his lips, and Eren could taste himself as his tongue pushed through your swollen mouth to enter yours. You moaned into the kiss, so sloppy and messy, you took no notice of Eren’s hands wiping away the leftover dribble on your chin. He yanked you back, a bit rougher this time, and you panted, rubbing your thighs together at the force. He eyed you up, your beautiful tits still on display, the fabric of your lace bra folded underneath them.

“Get naked for me, princess,” he cooed, untangling his fingers from your scalp. You did as you were told, practically ripping the lace set off your body as you soon stood stark naked in front of Eren. He pushed his legs up, joining you. You felt very small then as he towered above you, playing with the tips of your hair, he guided you around until you were forced to lay yourself flat on your back on the mattress once again.

Eren caressed your shins as he stood tall in front of you, never breaking eye contact. You could still see the glistening of your saliva on his cock, and heat continued to pool in between your thighs in anticipation of his next move.

“Look at you,” he whispered, wrapping his fingers on the tops of your bent knees, legs closed together. “So pretty, it almost hurts to look at you.”

His darkened eyes shot down, drinking you all in before settling on your closed legs. With his hands, he gently forced them to part, and he let out a quiet moan at the sight in front of him. Dripping in arousal, almost sparkling and shining like the gem you were, your pussy spread open for him, begging for his attention. His gaze darted up back to your face, trying not to get too carried away as he admired your beautiful body.

Eren let out a dark chuckle, stroking his hands to the meat of your thighs, “You have no idea the things I have planned for us, princess.”

You whimpered, unable to voice a single word. His right hand moved towards your center, and you gasped sharply as he gently grazed your folds with the lightest of touches. His thumb landed a hair above your clit, and you squirmed, desperate now. He circled so slowly on your pearl, gazing on with an inflated ego. Eren wanted you to beg for him, to tell you all about those ideas he had going on in his head while he fucked his fingers into you.

He decided to go easy on you though, you had plenty of time ahead of you to learn exactly what he wanted when it came to the bedroom, he cooed, “I’m gonna’ show you off, just like you deserve. Gonna’ buy you pretty things, treat you like the fucking princess you are — gonna’ be my pretty girl.”

“Please, Eren,” you whimpered, attempting to push your pelvis into his hand, failing miserably as his other one gripped your thigh in place. “I need you.”

“Tell me exactly what you need, baby,” Eren smirked.

“Everything,” you breathed out. “I want you to keep calling me pretty, wan’ you to fuck me.”

“We’ll get to that part soon,” he paused, lowering his head to your inner thigh, getting to his knees on the floor. “Just need to make you feel good first, pretty girl.”

Eren licked a bold stripe up your pussy as you mewled, feeling a shred of relief as the tip of his tongue circled your clit. You felt a bead of saliva, probably mixed in with your own arousal, travel down the seam of your ass. Eren was starving, and you tasted so delicious, a sweet tart flavor exploding across his taste buds. He flattened his tongue, and looked up to watch your gorgeous face as his lips engulfed your clit.

You threw your head back, eyes rolling into the back of your skull as you attached your hands to your breasts, pulling and tugging on your nipples. He positioned his hands to the back of your thighs then, somehow managing to spread you open even more. The sounds he made in between your folds were wet and sloppy, and he rubbed small circles with the pads of his thumbs into the creases where your legs met your ass.

He never broke away from your face, watching everything unfold before him. Now that you were free from his solidifying grip, your hips were rolling. He watched your ribs expand and fall as you moaned unabashedly, rubbing your cunt into his mouth. Eren had never seen a more beautiful sight, and suddenly, it wasn’t enough to satisfy him. His right hand itched closer to your opening, and you trembled at the prodding of his index fingers. His tongue flopped around sloppily, slurping your bud in between his lips as he entered you slowly, cock pulsing at the feeling of your slick velvety walls greeting his finger.

Here he was, on his knees before you, eyes heavy and swirling because of you. You arched your back as he pumped the single digit in you slowly at first. He felt the tight clench of your walls as his tongue flicked at a certain angle, pleased that he had discovered very quickly how he was going to get you to cum. Eren was impatient, and as much as he wanted to stay between the heat of your thighs for hours if you’d let him, he really needed that orgasm from you. The tip of his pointer finger left you briefly, and you whimpered at the sudden loss, quickly becoming breathless and he slammed it right back in alongside his middle finger. They curled inside of you, brushing right against the soft spongy wall that was your g-spot. You were gushing for him, the sloppy noises of his assaults resounding around the bedroom.

“Fuck, fuck,” you panted, feeling your breasts bounce as he fucked his fingers into you at an alarming pace, tongue following the pattern eagerly. “Oh my god, I’m so close, Eren, I’m gonna’ cum.”

He pulled his mouth back momentarily, voice husky and pleading as he told you, “Cum for me, baby.”

You slammed your hips down onto his knuckles, feeling the underside of his palm and your slick. He had been reduced to curling and angling his fingers inside of you, watching in adoration and awe as you bounced yourself on his fingers, rubbing your pretty pussy against his mouth. Eren had just become a bystander at this point, he was pretty much forced to be stilled as you used his mouth and hands so greedily, feeling an unfamiliar swell in your cunt.

And when your back arched, and your walls clenched so fiercely tight around his drenched fingers, Eren found his forever love. He’d do anything, be anyone, whatever the fuck that was asked of him, to see this sight for the rest of his life. You were vibrating, legs shaking so strongly, Eren had to mentally catch up when he felt a gush of hot liquid soak him. He shifted his gaze down in shock, and holy shit, you were squirting.

You swore you had never orgasmed like this before, it was more than stars you were seeing behind your closed eyelids. It was pure black, absolute nothingness as your brain short circuited. It was like your pussy was taking a deep breath, because when the onset of contractions hit you, you thought you were going to pass out. And poor Eren, who stared dumbly in front of him at how intense your muscles were flexing, was already so deeply in love with you and was confessing his eternal devotion to you in his mind.

When your cunt had settled down, and your hips relented in pushing yourself against Eren’s face and hands, you let out a low moan as he slid his drenched fingers out of you. He stared at his hand, shining with your cum, and flickered his gaze up to you.

“I’m going to fucking marry you,” he growled. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever fucking seen.”

You let out an exhausted laugh, “Would you believe me if I told you that was the first time I’ve ever squirted?”

“I’m buying you a goddamn ring tomorrow,” he placed a kiss to your inner thigh, moving his body up to hover above you. Eren’s hands wrapped around your thighs once again, propping your knees to your chest. He saw the slight trace of fear in your eyes, and he paused, “You okay?”

“It’s just,” you gazed at the point between your bodies. “Are you gonna’ fit?”

Eren leaned forward, feeling slightly relieved, his face still dripping in your essence, and he placed a sweet, romantic kiss to your lips, pulling away to murmur, “I’ll be gentle, I promise.”

You nodded your head, letting the worry roll off your body as one of his hands caressed your cheek, never breaking eye contact with him. The other hand reached in between your centers, grabbing his throbbing cock and sliding himself along your pussy. He was soon coated in your juices, and both of you were letting out quiet moans. As he sunk his tip into your entrance though, you were gasping loudly.

Eren really had wanted to be gentle, he had no intentions whatsoever of hurting you, but he had realized very quickly that you were going to be the one to set the pace in the relationship. Because as soon as half of his shaft was anchored in your heat, your hips slammed upwards to engulf his entire length. He bit back a yelp at the suddenness, fisting the sheets by your waist in a tight grip. If Eren didn’t feel like a virgin before, he sure as fuck did now.

You didn’t realize just how prepped that orgasm had made you, or how sensitive. What you had believed would’ve been pain was insurmountable and mind blowing pleasure, and you smiled in pride as Eren’s jaw fell open. You felt his hands fall from the underside of your thighs, and you took the opportunity, leveraging your legs, and thrusted upwards. Eren bottomed out inside of you, and you winced slightly at the mild pain of his tip meeting the wall of your cervix, the stretch of your walls accommodating him as you fluttered around him.

“You’re so big, Eren,” you moaned out, moving your hands to grasp his flexing biceps. “‘Feels so good.”

Eren was fighting an internal war — go as slow as physically possible as to not bust in your heavenly pussy in three strokes, or give you the best two minutes of your fucking life. Because it was absolutely all way too much, your gorgeous face, your soaked core, the way you gripped his cock so tightly. You were a vixen, Eren’s personal vices wrapped up in one human body. He couldn’t help but take notice of how perfectly your bodies fit together, your pussy made for him.

“Eren, move, please,” you whined, attempting to squirm your hips. He shot a hand down to your hip, stilling you as he gave you a warning glare.

“I’m trying really hard not to cum inside of you right now,” Eren groaned, finally moving his hips. “You’re so fucking tight, baby. Making it real hard for me right now.”

Little was Eren aware of your pussy still on edge from the mind blowing power of your first orgasm, and you mouth lolled open as he slowly fucked you. If you were to touch your clit, or have any type of pressure there right now, it would be over for you as well. You’d have all the time in the future to have long, drawn out sex with Eren, but the two of you were just way too turned on and aroused by each other to have anything but heavy and fast sex. With a slight hesitation on your end, also not wanting to cum so quickly around his length, you rocked your hips into his fastening pace.

Eren chose the latter of his two options then, feeling the ridges of your pussy pulse and flutter around his cock. He pulled all the way back, tip daring to fall out of your little hole, and he flung himself right back in to the hilt. He repeated this a few times, and you were trying your best to hold back screams. Eren was drooling at the sight of your pretty pink pussy taking him, sloppy and messy from his saliva and your cum. He brought his attention to your bouncing breasts, molding one into his palm, rolling the nipple in the center.

Eren’s thrusts quickened dramatically, and he knew that your warning from the previous night had been true. You were screaming, calling out his name and several swears and ‘oh my god’s. This only encouraged him more, ego pretty much stroking his own cock as he plunged into you at a dangerous pace. He knew he was going to fast approach his orgasm, but Eren wasn’t stupid either. He could feel the clench tightening around him as he fucked right into that pretty spot inside of you, the way your breathing changed after a few seconds of that. Eren would become your number one expert, knowing every tell tale sign of your body, and what you were feeling. From one orgasm, he knew how your breathing changed, and Eren was determined to take you to those heights again.

Keeping the flick of his hips at the slamming pace he was at, he brought his thumb to your swollen clit. At the impact, your eyes screwed closed over the overwhelming pleasure. You felt a twinge of pain, just so sensitive from how strong you came before, but didn’t stop Eren as he rolled your pearl in fast circles, putting delicate pressure on the very top. It took maybe three strokes of his cock and a slight unsteady irregularity in his pattern to get you right where he had wanted you — desperate to cum alongside him.

“I’m so close, Eren,” you moaned out, lower body buzzing in anticipation.

“I want you to cum on my cock,” he demanded, a shocked moan crawling out of his throat at the first clench. “Oh, fuck, good girl.”

You spasmed under him, eyebrows shooting up in a furrow as you arched your back uncontrollably, the wave of your second orgasm slamming into you like a train. You could hear the squelching of Eren fucking your pussy as you contracted around him, or as he tried to. It was pure ecstasy, a feeling of wholeness filling you entirely. Half way through your orgasm, he grabbed the base of his cock, sliding out of you as he pumped himself fast above you. You held your legs open, breathing heavily as Eren watched your muscles contract in astonishment. He had never made a girl cum like this before, so hard and so visually. Your beautiful face, eyes encouraging him to cum, was all he needed. His dick was covered in you, his fingers sticky and soaked. It was all so fucking sloppy, and the thought and sight of it all caught up to him.

You felt the hot ropes of cum hit your belly, moaning at the sight. Eren was fucking his fist, cock thrusting in his grip like he had been doing in your pussy. His head hung forward, eyes drinking in the entirety of you. He shot his load on your lower half, stroking himself down after a couple of minutes, breathing heavily.

He eyed the box of tissues on your nightstand, and grabbed a few, languidly wiping his cum off of your abdomen as the two of you tried to catch your breath, or bring a ration thought back into your minds.

“We just had porn star sex,” you giggled tiredly.

“Oh yes we fucking did,” Eren smirked. “Not to like hype you up or whatever, that was the best sex I’ve ever had.”

Your pride and ego swelled as he finished wiping up his cum, discarding the tissues in the bin on the floor. He hadn’t given you much time to respond, asking where the bathroom was so he could grab a rag to clean you up. You were humbled, affection rising in your chest when he returned to take care of your exhausted body. No one had bothered with aftercare before, and right then and there, you knew Eren was a keeper.

“Thank you,” you yawned out, stretching your legs in front of you. Eren hung around a little awkwardly, not sure of what to do. “You can spend the night, if you want to.”

He raised his eyebrows, a smile crossing his face, “Do you want me to?”

You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself back until your head met your pillows and lifted your comforter, gesturing for Eren to join you. And that he did, pouncing on the offer and sliding into bed with you, not hesitating for a second to wrap his muscular arms around your waist. He kissed you gently, pulling away to place his lips on your shoulder as you began to drift off.

You awoke alone in your bed, the bright rays of the sun hazy as you blinked the sleep away. You could smell and hear the sizzling of breakfast in your kitchen, your bedroom door swung wide open. You threw your legs over the mattress, stealing a quick look at yourself in the mirror. You cringed at the mascara stains under your eyes, taking a tissue and wiping underneath your lashes to look presentable enough for the man looming in your kitchen. You discarded the tissue, and slid on a pair of fresh panties and Eren’s enormous sweatshirt you had yet to return, and padded your bare feet across your floor to join him.

Eren’s back faced you, his form only clad in a pair of boxers as he focused his complete attention to the frying pans in front of him. You smirked, leaning against your counter, placing your chin in your open hands.

“Good morning, Chef Eren,” you teased, catching him off guard as he jumped a bit.

He turned to face you, hair a complete mess as a boyish smile graced his face, “Morning, princess. I hope you don’t mind my mess.”

“It smells amazing, so I guess I can figure out a way to forgive you,” you sighed dramatically. “Only if there’s coffee involved, though.”

“Way ahead of you,” he moved his legs over to your coffee machine, a pair of steaming muga awaiting his hand. He grabbed one, a plain white mug that matched the rest of your kitchen set, and set it on the counter in front of you.

“If you’re trying to earn extra credit, it’s working,” you said, dumbstriken.

“Gotta’ show you I’m boyfriend material,” he wagged his eyebrows, turning back to the frying pan before cutting the heat off. “I couldn’t find your plates, though.”

“Cabinet above the sink,” you directed, pulling out a stool from underneath your kitchen bar. “Forks and stuff are in the drawer by the refrigerator.”

Eren nodded, collecting two plates and the necessary utensils from their designated areas. The sight of eggs and bacon made your mouth water, and you were about to get a key made specifically for Eren to waltz in every morning to cook you this glorious meal every single day. You thanked him as he set your plate in front of you, and you dug in.

“Eren, it’s so good,” you complimented after chewing. “You really know how to treat a girl.”

He simply laughed, and the two of you fell into a pleasant conversation. And then by the time mid day rolled around, the two of you had talked all about where you’d be spending the evening. The night had ended just like the one before in mind blowing sex, the morning after repeating itself, and again, and again.

A month later, you had updated your Instagram bio. ‘Connoisseur of mimosas, rock and roll, and Eren Jaeger’. And when it had come time to update your OnlyFans content, you were more than happy to have your own personal photographer to use at your discretion. Just as long as you continued to wear his necklace, Eren would take as many pictures as you needed him to, knowing you’d end up in each other’s beds at the end of the session anyways. And he’d continue to follow you, this time though, you’d gladly send him his favorite pictures for free.

LACHERI © 2021: all writing content belongs to LACHERI. I do not allow reposts or translations. this is my only account.

[strangertheories]

I agree with your post. It's a shame that we can't criticize the show's writing within the Byler community. Also trigger warning for Byler doubt... I wish we could just enjoy the ship without the pressure of it ever becoming canon, and without looking into every single detail that 99% of the time has probably nothing to do with Byler. I feel like I'm the only one but to me it's clear that the writers wouldn't have had Mike confess his love to El if they were planning on making Byler endgame in season 5. It just wouldn't make sense. We now know that Mike being unable to say I love you wasn't because he didn't feel it, but because of his insecurities or whatever bullshit reason they came up with. It's too late for us, but we can still enjoy the amazing dynamic Mike and Will have, and make our own fanart and headcanons like any other ship, and that's wonderful! But it seems like to be in this fandom you have to believe that Byler is endgame, and it's quite tiring. (sorry for the rant I wasn't planning on it lol)

Please give me a second, Byler shippers, this isn't a Byler doubt post! For any Byler shippers reading this, I'm not going to side with the doubt but I'm also not going to try and dismiss it because I think whenever Byler shippers have doubts about canon Byler it's a kneejerk response to try and get rid of it and rationalize it out of existence. I get why, but I think anon raises a good point. I've spoken about this for months and months, but Byler pessimism is a very big thing I feel like nobody talks about. Like we get one piece of bad news, give up and then be sad and venty and genuinely stressed and then we rationalize it and move on but I feel as though maybe we need to actually consider that your love for Byler should elevate the show, not take away from it and make you stressed.

And I know that is so easy to say and I'm not saying you should not feel this way at all, what I'm trying to say is that even if Byler didn't end up being canon (not saying it won't), you can still love this community and eagerly wait for fix it fics and fan art to appear instead of immediately giving up or wanting to leave the fandom. Wanting Byler to be canon is one part of the fandom, but I also think it's so much more than that and it's healthy to acknowledge that and try to still hold love for Stranger Things even if it isn't what you hope for.

Just to put a personal thing here at the end, some followers might have noticed that I've not been posting as much recently. Truthfully, it's because Byler wasn't fun for me anymore. I was stressed out because on one hand I felt super doubtful and never really moved past Volume 2's release and the Mike love confession but on the other, I didn't want to make any of my followers feel scared or doubtful. But I've posted less frequently and re-watched the show and I'm trying to healthily express my honest feelings for the ship, most of which are nice (some of which are critical), and it's been really nice. I expected to kind of be eaten alive for it but everyone's been so nice and I've received a bunch of asks of people who also felt as though they couldn't express this opinion. And it's honestly decreasing my fears for Byler because now I feel more excited than stressed that it won't happen.

Feel free to skip this, but I didn't really know where else to say this; I've gained a lot of followers recently but didn't want to post about it. It feels weird; I have the most followers I've ever had on anything and the Byler tag has hundreds of thousands of followers too, but I just feel so weird about it, y'know? Everything is so quiet at the moment and I'm excited for stuff to ramp up again, but it feels odd gaining followers but with nothing to post about. However this week, I feel as though getting these doubts off my chest has really helped me feel happy. Now I'm excited about Byler potentially being canon instead of just worrying that it might not be happening.

Thanks for the ask and thanks to everyone for being a really supportive loving community. Getting Tumblr was great and I'm glad that this anon and others can find love out of Byler beyond it just being canon in the show.

[silky-stories]

Hey I love your coffee addict for ruv sarv and gracello but what would it be like for whitty, pico, and BF

I’m glad you liked it! Hope you like how this turned out and thanks for the request :D!

———————————————————————

Caffeine Addict S/O

Genre: Fluff :)

Words: 1213

Disclaimer/s: Talk about addiction, mentions of hands shaking and headaches, mention of other addictive substances, slight swearing (very minor)

Notes: For context, the original coffee addict post can be found here :D, also first BF post let's go-

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Whitty

He is... very confused at first

As someone with an absolutely insane and inhuman metabolism, he doesn’t really understand the concept of your body being especially sensitive to something

He suddenly finds himself very concerned though when he looks up more information on the matter and finds out that it could possibly be fatal if you were to push it too far

To be fair though, he looked up what it meant when he had trouble breathing one day and thought he had cancer for a solid couple days, so his research isn't always the best

Despite that though, he's immediately going through the house and trying to purge your belongings of anything that might contain any fraction of caffeine

"This candle is coffee scented. I'm not letting some dumbass candle kill my partner."

He definitely goes overboard until you let him know that it's fine and that you just need to keep an eye on the amount of caffeine that you have in a day and watch your heart

He's still very wary though and probably won't let you drink or eat anything with caffeine in it without him there to watch you for awhile

"Damn right I'm gonna watch you drink it, what if your heart explodes or something?"

He still doesn't really get it and he's relying on what you and Google told him, so please be patient, he's just very concerned about you and wants to make sure that you're safe

If your hands are shaking or you're having a headache or something like that, you better tell him what you want him to do to help or have him leave you alone entirely because he will panic

On the bright side, he will listen to everything you ask him to and really try to do it to the best of his ability

He knows that you know what's best for yourself in this situation, so he trusts you

He'll still be checking your pulse whenever he can though

He does it so often you begin to not even notice it, it's just habit for both of you now

He most likely won't try to help with your addiction unless you ask for his assistance or let him know about your want to break the habit

That's mostly because he doesn't know how addictions work though-

He has a lot of trust in you and knows that you'll make him aware if you know you need his help

Until then though, he'll be waiting and watching from the sidelines, trying his best to keep you healthy in any way he can

Pico

He doesn't really think much of it at first honestly

That's mostly because he's kind of dumb though and literally doesn't even understand what you just told him

"Low tolerance for caffeine? Uhh... get it I guess? I don't really like coffee either so uh..."

Please forgive his stupidity and just explain it how you would to a toddler

It'll take a hot minute but he'll understand eventually

It's suddenly a lot more of an issue to him though when he realizes that it's actually kind of dangerous for you

He ends up doing a lot of research when he's alone after deciding that it's probably something that he should be concerned about

It's fairly factual research, don't worry

He's kind of a dummy but he's learned not to believe everything that he's told by just anyone

You'll find that within a week he's checking your pulse frequently, asking if you need the lights off or for him to be quiet because of headaches, and other things along those lines

He'll always act like it's no big deal and that it's just better for him to check every now and then instead of just hoping that you're checking yourself

"Ya don't need to thank me, 'm jus' makin' sure ya don't go too far an' end up in an ambulance, idiot."

He cares about you a lot and can have a hard time expressing that, so try not to bring up his small acts of concern too often

He'll probably try to remember how much caffeine you've had in a day and just keep it in mind so he can tell you when he thinks you've had a bit too much

He probably secretly throw away or hide things that have caffeine in them honestly-

Once again, please don't hold his dumbness against him, he just wants to help and doesn't always have a filter for his actions

He doesn't really care about whether or not you break the addiction or not since he's had a past of addictive substances as well and doesn't feel that he has any right to judge

cough cough medicinal herbs cough cough

He'll try his best to help if you want to though

Other than that he'll just keep your current state in mind at all times and try to help you in subtle ways

BF (Keith)

If you're looking for the perfect combination of concerned and progressively helpful then you've come to the right place

He is immediately wanting to learn everything he can when you initially tell him about your low tolerance

He's listening really deeply too, trying to absorb as much information as he can before he does more research

The next day he'll be going over the info he found, wanting to confirm the legitimacy of everything he learned

"...the website also said that most decaf coffees still have caffeine in them, that's right, right?"

Expect him to ask you frequently how you're doing, how much caffeine you've had, how your cravings are, etc.

He ends up getting into a rhythm, asking at similar times each day no matter what's going on

If you two are apart he'll make sure to call you to make sure that you're doing alright

He'll also be on the lookout for caffeine-free alternatives of some of your favourite caffeinated foods and drinks

He looks at reviews on them as well to make sure that they're not gross too

He checks your pulse frequently, but after awhile he'll probably buy you one of those fancy watches that'll tell you your heartrate so it's easier for both of you

He still likes to listen to your heartbeat sometimes though, so he might "lose" it for small amounts of time so he has to check it himself

"I must have misplaced it, whoops. Guess I'll just have to check it myself, you know, just to make sure you're alright. :)"

He won't try to force you to break your addiction, but he'll voice his concern about it to you occasionally

He won't try to be inconspicuous with his statements either, he's very honest with you and will let you know when he's nervous about your well-being

If you reassure him that it's fine and make sure he knows that you're taking care of yourself, he'll be happy

He's just worried about you and wants to make sure that you're safe, but he also has a lot of trust and faith in you that you know your body and will take care of yourself

He's just gonna make sure to contribute with taking care of you, you know, make it a little easier :)