#everything they do goes against them somehow and im tired of it but i know it’s not ever gonna stop
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steinwayandhissons · 1 year ago
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why do i do this to myself every time (reading comments under am posts)
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iliveinprocrasti-nationn · 11 months ago
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the urge after a rough shift to find and report that one person who joined a wildlife rehab ‘to relieve their instinct to nurture and cuddle animals’ or some shit and posts photos and videos of them irresponsibly home-rehabbing possums
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cal-daisies-and-briars · 2 months ago
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For your newest make me write. Im in a huge complete supernatural/fantasy like AU mood here recently so my requests are going to be towards that this week. Also both of them are supposed to be 15 emojis apiece so can we pretend they are if they are not? (Kinda sorry about all the zombies…but feel free to sub everything to vampires or another WIP if you want)
🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟🧟(Im so ready for the Maddie/Buck reunion and ensuing shenanigans. I think by the time you get to to this that the new chapter *may* be out that goes over that. But im also enjoying other aspects of the story as well. I very rarely read bathena start fics so their relationship developing is exciting for me to see as well).
🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸🩸 🩸(Spoilery for those not caught up BUT OMG BUCK WHAT DID YOU DO?!?! I was not ready for that!)
Woohoo 90 total sentences for monster fics!
45 for 🧟 (THANK YOU!!!):
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 “Just… Be careful.”
Chim thinks he probably should listen to her. But he also knows he likely won’t. 
▪️▪️▪️
If anything, Chim gets worse. And that might be problematic if his feelings were one-sided, but after dinner, it becomes more or less obvious that they are not.
They do dishes together. A chore Chim usually finds tiresome, but now is somehow fun. Christopher and Denny have already begged Maddie, Hen, and Karen to have a sleepover together. Something Chim finds somewhat redundant, seeing as every day forever is a sleepover here. But Chris wants to sleep in Denny’s room. 
“Please,” Karen had insisted when Maddie had asked if they were sure it was okay. “He finally gets to have friends his own age. Chris can have as many sleepovers as he wants.”
So Maddie is off kid duty tonight. 
“Other than movie night,” she asks as they’re finishing up with dishes. “What is there to do around here in the evenings?”
“You got something against movie night?” Chim teases.
“No!” Maddie insists. “Just exploring my options.”
“Well, there are games,” Chim says. But then he has another thought. “Or the roof.”
“The roof?” Maddie asks. 
“Yeah. We’ve got chairs up there. We can steal your brother’s stereo. It’s great for looking at the stars. Now that the light pollution is gone.” 
Chim wonders if this is too weird. Too forward. Too intimate. Too much like a date, if the world was normal enough to afford dates. Actually, scratch that. He knows Hen has set up a date for Karen up there, under the stars. On their wedding anniversary. God, what is he doing?
“That sounds really nice,” Maddie says. “Would you… Would you want to do that with me?”
God, obviously.
“I’d like that, yeah.”
---
45 for 🩸 (Buck's gonna Buck!)
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“Neither am I,” Eddie says. “Okay?”
Buck nods, still a little weepy. 
“Okay.”
💧💧💧
As tired as he is, Buck can’t really sleep for very long periods. A wound to his front and a wound to his back means nothing is comfortable. Eddie helps set him up on an assortment of pillows to prop him in just the right position, but it’s still a more or less futile effort. He manages to get a little bit of rest when his pain medication sets in, but otherwise, he’s awake and uncomfortable. 
Brought down to reality by his conversation, Buck really gets a chance to think through what he’d nearly done. Not the killing part - which he’d been more focused on before - but the dying part. And the more he thinks about it, the more he thinks about just how right Eddie was. He doesn’t want to die. He doesn’t want their life together to be over just as it finally started.
He really let that compulsive need to fix everything almost get him killed. Maddie was right. He needs to deal with this properly. This pit of dread that lives in his chest that says he is going to lose everything horribly. That says life will never be safe again. He needs to address that head on, and not by trying to be one step ahead of every possible danger. He needs to go back to therapy. He will, he decides. The minute he’s physically up to it.
“I’m sorry,” Buck says again, later that night, when everyone is sleeping and Buck is laying awake beside Eddie. He knows he’s probably going to be saying it for a long time. 
Eddie blinks awake. “Hmm?”
“I’m sorry,” Buck repeats. 
“For waking me up?” 
“No, for everything.”
Eddie sighs. “I forgive you. I’ve already forgiven you.”
“But I’m still sorry.” 
“Buck,” Eddie complains. “Don’t do this. This doesn’t help. Believe me, I know.”
“I’m going to go to therapy,” Buck says. 
“That’s a good idea,” Eddie says. “We could both use therapy. Do you think there are vampire therapists?”
“If there’s not, there should be,” Buck replies. “They’d have the corner on the market right now.”
“Exactly,” Eddie says. “And surely some shrink out there got bit?”
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hesitatingspirit · 3 months ago
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I. Boy v. World
it feels like the world is against me sometimes.
and i dont know how to make it clear that i just want to be left alone. say hi my name is adam nice to meet you please dont hurt me im just a boy please i just want to be treated like one of you. you dont have to even talk to me but if you refer to me just maybe say he but if not its okay & i’m still too aggressive. say nothing at all and i’m just too difficult to even bother with at all. loser from the start, this is an eternal summer and you’re god’s least favourite cold-blooded experiment. strap in and enjoy the ride: you’ll be here for a long time.
If I am offended by someone calling me a woman, I am too much. I am one of those trannies that makes everything about them, the spitting image of the blue-haired, big-mouthed, angry-faced caricatures of trans individuals created by the right. If I am not offended, I am making a bad name for my fellow trans siblings by not standing up for myself when people misidentify me. I am normalising the idea that people are allowed to “mess up” on purpose, label me as whatever they want. I can never win: The only way would be to never get misgendered again. To not even have it be a possibility…
But we all know that this can never happen.
No matter what I do, I am always wrong,
because what did I expect when I chose to do this?
I mean,
Everyone knows how the world feels about people like me.
What DID I expect?
Would it have been easier for me to just stay a girl?
Easier for which one of us?
The world is run by spiders weaving complex webs of lies and careful misinformation, all vague enough to seem true to those who only catch the news in passing and parrot it at work, conversing at the water coolers. But being wrong is a disease, and baby, it's contagious: Mask up and shut your mouth and maybe even your ears too.
They are just trying to provoke me. They want to make me step out of line, so when I finally say “hey im a bit uncomfortable” They can finally say
I knew there was something about him!
He is one of those, he lied!
He DOES make his identity his whole personality!
No. It seems that my identity has become YOUR personality,
because my gender defines everyone but me:
The way people react to my face usually tells me all I need to know.
I can recognise a cold gaze from around the corner,
through a brick wall and from a mile away
I'm a psychic, honey, and I'm never gonna change,
so dont shoot the Messenger, okay?
and it goes like this it goes
boy with mustache makes a face when stranger calls him a girl
boy with mustache apologises for the trouble in case stranger noticed
stranger scoffs i dont see why it's such a big deal you can't expect everyone to understand
boy says i know and i’m sorry
boy goes home and forgets what he looks like.
It kinda goes like this:
different place wake up with a different face who am i today well everyone sees different things
but you know me i ride my own wave, this is My summer soundtrack
i am a skateboarder i am a stoner i am a rockstar
i am a bleach blond baby boy abandoned by god and i will never die again
mask after mask name after name
another ring around my eyes after another night awake
bags full of sleep deprived weekends staying busy with a racing head
lids heavy with the memories of endless nights
it’ll weigh me down ‘til i’m lowered into my early grave
and all the brick roads and sunsets up in my favourite singer’s hometown will never hit me the same
ghosts see the world differently,
ever so slightly colourblind
translucent lids half-covering eyes that have grown so tired from all they’ve seen
an eternity an observer
an eternity more to go
the people who care what you look like or hate what you listen to aren't really people that should be in your life anyway. so i don't care too much when they cut me off.
i don't care at all,
i just find it so insane that somehow i'm hurting people by being alive. by breathing.
if i enjoyed the shapes of the words she and her in your mouth if i enjoyed the twang of their sound waves if i could love the way the words hit my eardrums then my existence would be pure, a gift from god and i would be a miracle
but because i stand up for myself
because i have committed the crime of wanting to be happy
i am irredeemably evil
forever unclean,
stain on society and a file best left unopened.
top secret, confidential. don't ask, don't tell, but tell them what you don't know, tell them what you want to think. don't ask, don't tell, but they’ll always ask, and you’ll always tell.
“we don’t talk about her anymore.”
“she went crazy.”
“i heard it was drugs that did it.”
“i heard it was schizophrenia.”
“i think she was into witchcraft.”
god forbid a boy want to be loved: god forbid i avenge my death.
porcelain is so easily cracked,
you don't think i have a right to self defense?
i have to crawl out of my grave because this city is all i know. and this place can get so damn cold.
my rebirth will be slow. it will be terrible. and it is commencing.
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sehodreamsthoughts · 4 months ago
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i’m having a sungchan brainrot day and he always radiates.. would fuck u so hard it hurts type of roughness.. like irl it’s not fun but in theory cervix fucking is kinda hot yeah🫣🫣 he’s so hot it hurts me and i just know he’s big… 🤕🤕 i need him so bad my new hc with him is single dad sungchan with a daughter and he meets u and u get along really well with his daughter (thinking possibly ur some type of teacher for her and sungchan doesn’t like you at first but he tolerates u because his daughter adores u) but idr think about having another kid with him or anything cuz not to get too personal but im not a “big fan” of pregnant reader n pregnancy and stuff in fics.. im okay with breeding kink stuff but that’s about as far as it goes for me most of the time
do u wanna tell me more about ur wonbin dream?🤭🤭 also divorced dad eunseok sounds kinda🫠🫠 /pos.. i so see that sort of idea with someone like fuma too although i think of more like established businessman.. with a wife.. for fuma and reader is not his wife 🫣
- 🥟 anon
I'm also not a big fan of pregnancy 😭, I love breading kink but I can't read pregnant reader 💀
Oh god, Sungchan with a daughter that is the light of his life, he would be so tired, a bit grumpy of how tired he is, hiding it pretty well from his daughter but having a hard time with you who notices everything. You'd ask him if he needs anything only from his tired eyes, and he'd be so rejecting because he doesn't have time for anything else with his busy life. Still, the minute you step into his house with your comfy clothes and he hears the echo of your voice in his living room he KNOWS why he was so rejecting. You're so fucking pretty he feels a sudden warmness filling him, recognizing the long forgotten sensation of wanting.
He thinks it is useless to feel all that since you're so young and you have so many things to do with the freedom he doesn't have anymore.
However, he doesn't know how he got into that position. His daughter had forgotten to cancel your class, not being at home, and he had invited you in only to give you a cup of coffee before sending you your way. Somehow, you'd be over his kitchen counter, showing him a little wound you had, not minding that you were lifting your long skirt to your knee, and then, teasingly, like a sincere joke, going further to your thigh.
"Do you think it's funny to tease an old man like me?" He'd say, looking away.
He doesn't enjoy being a joke, but hearing your laugh in his kitchen makes him so happy. He feels young again, and before he notices it he's already between your thighs, taking your face between his hands and not letting you go until you become the joke with how much you're squirming under the hands of an experienced man.
Everything is rough, fast, and crude. He doesn't take any of your clothes, just moving your underwear to the side and pushing his fingers to prepare you. When you ask him to just put it in he answers with a "Such a smart girl doesn't know what patience is" and a hand on your throat to make you stay in your place, "I guess you'll be the one receiving a lesson today".
You thought for a second that he was all words, until he proved you that indeed, with him you'd be learning about patience. He's torturing you with the slow pace of his fingers fucking you. He makes scissoring motions to make you relax, and it doesn't matter how much you beg him to just fuck you, he doesn't give in.
He's a serious man— a real man, able to contain any urge to make sure you take him good.
Later you understand how important the virtue of patience is. He's so big you cling to his shoulders, biting your lip to not cry of pain because that pain feels so good you don't care that you're going against your limits at accepting such a big cock inside you. Also, the way he makes you feel so secure in his arms, an assurance not any of the dumb boys you've fucked before in your life had. He's not softer than them, and he's so deep you know he's ruining you for any other man, but you don't care. Jung Sungchan fucks so good, you don't care that he has a daughter, a daughter that is your student, or that he's slightly older than you, even less how ungroomed he looks some mornings when he leaves his daughter under your care.
Who would care when the man can push your legs higher and knows exactly the perfect spot to thrust at to make your mind go numb.
Okay single dad!Sungchan is so hot, I have a weakness for DILF!Riize 😭
Oh god my dream, it was an intense one, I can even remember it now because I felt the pain even when I woke up 💀
I'll write it as a you narration because I feel weird using the first person 😭
TW: NONCON
You were deep asleep, tired of your exhausting routine, when you felt something pushing your legs open. You couldn't decipher what it was, or who, letting them do it before drifting back to sleep. You were so tired, nothing could really wake you up.
However, such pain would wake anyone up.
You opened your eyes and left a painful sound out when your walls were forced open by it, hard and thick, not giving you a second to think before it went all the way in.
In the darkness of the room you could recognize his longish hair, his slim figure, even his plush pout shooing you so you didn't make too much noise.
It was definitely him.
"Wonbin, it hurts" you hissed, closing your eyes again because you wanted to cry, "please pull out, please" you begged, one of your hands going to his strong abdomen to push him away.
Your nails scratched him by accident, and you apologized for marking his perfect skin.
"it's okay" he reassured you in a whisper, sliding his member out to then shove it all inside again, obliging a cry to leave your lips and your teeth to recklessly press against each other.
"it hurts!" There was no sign of pleasure in your voice, or in your body. Taking him should be, by what everyone says, a blessing, but the shattering pain filling your body made it impossible to describe as that.
He didn't stop. Your hands were useless at pushing him away, and your legs trembled, begging to shut and not let him stay between them anymore. You couldn't even breathe, air not filling your lungs before going out, searching for a way to relieve your body unconsciously.
The sounds leaving him were so different to yours. He left soft sighs, calm, placid, and his head fell back when he found exactly the rhythm he liked the most, even more, in a tightness he never thought he could enjoy.
When you were awake you had pushed him away so many times with the same words, he was afraid he couldn't feel the satisfaction of having you anymore.
If only you could enjoy it too.
The burning sensation when he finally pulled out made you doubt you could find that bliss ever again.
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fatalitylikeghosts · 2 years ago
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Left Over
I still feel the burn of it, bile at the back of my throat, clawing its way through my insides, racking my body with tremors as I spill myself out onto the cracked alley floor. Bricks biting against my fingertips, holding on for dear life as the world spins out of focus and I am hurling through it with no anchor, no focal point. I don’t look too closely at what I’m hacking up. Its a mess of black and blood and everything I don’t want to see. Im pretty sure somethings moving in it. I felt it slither between my teeth, a parasite my bodys finally rejecting, even if it kills me. And for a moment I think it is. Killing me. The detox of a lifetime as I realize I’ve never been sober. All the pills and poison they’ve stuffed me with, day after day like cotton filling out a corpse. I’ve never been without it. My heads pounding but its never been this clear. And so I let it take me, I let my body purge itself while I hold on blindly and pray to whatever god is listening that I make it to the other side. The come downs a bitch.
But I do make it, one day at a time as I learn to walk on two legs 18 years too late. They’re shaking steps but they’re determined and I charge myself right in the direction of everything they’ve ever warned me against. Through the city streets, through the alleyways no one looks down, to the edges of what was supposed to be my home, my haven. Out into the big wide world, against the sun that burns and the desert thats only good for killing. Every signal in my head is flashing like floodlights, screaming to turn back, but I dont. I just keep walking, one step at a time.
It’s easy to pretend in the desert. Hair falls to the floor with a jagged sweep, box dye soaking into the roots, stitching together a version of myself that goes against everything they told me to be. “Fuck you” boots strapped on tight, safety pins through a leather jacket held together by “suck it” seams. I cant see them in the mirror when I’m looking through a mask. I can’t hear them while my gun is singing. Loud and Proud. I can almost convince myself that this is the way its always been.
The pills are gone from my system, a few years gone by now, and the city should be nothing more than a memory. It should be. There’s no explanation as to why I still feel it lurking in my veins, like the bloods still tainted. Like I’ll never be able to get clean. Like somehow I know it will never fully leave me. I can scratch my skin raw, I can choke on vomit trying to force it back out but there’s nothing left to spit up. All thats left are echoes, after images of a life branded to me at birth, like hot iron against supple skin. These are the ghosts they’ve left behind, occupying the shadowed corners of my mind. I can’t always hear them, but they’re always there, they’re always watching. I’ve worn anger until the thread runs thin and I’m tired of the way it fits. I don’t even know who I’m supposed to be angry at. So instead, I ride the wave. I point and shoot. I rush forward like the deserts the only home I’ve ever known, ever will know, and if I try hard enough I can almost convince myself that every step doesn’t burn beneath my feet. But in the end I need the burn, the pain, the way it sinks in deep and taps into the vitals that remind me I’m still alive. And as long as I’m still alive, I keep running.
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strangelysamantha · 3 years ago
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hey, i have a jj maybank request! fem!reader, possible angst!
so basically, y/n is a pogue and gets along with the other pogues (john b, pope, sarah, kiara & cleo) except for jj. y/n is always bright, a total sweetheart and bubbly and jj…hates it.
john b recently opens up a surf board shop on that stranded island that they’re on?? and he leaves y/n and jj alone to polish some boards hoping that they’d get along. jj complains about every little thing y/n does and starts calling her names. she gets really upset and storms out the shop to clear her head. she goes by the water for a swim but a dangerous tide picks her up and jj notices and saves her?? hopefully this makes sense!
the deep end ☆
jj maybank x fem!reader.
warnings: mentions of drowning, jj being an asshole, swearing.
words: 1,674.
summary: jj somehow finds everything you do annoying to the point he criticizes everything you do. john b thinks of a plan that will ensure his two friends will befriend each other. it was working at first, until it wasn’t.
request? yes!
a/n: y’all have such good ideas what the?! thank you for the request! if you enjoyed please like and comment. this is angst with fluff at the end. <3 BTW i am from missouri and have never surfed so i hope i got the polishing of the surfboards correct. :)
my masterlist
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john b always had a plan, well usually he did. if two of his friends were fighting, he would always find a way to get them to get along. he knew that stranding kiara and sarah on a boat together in the middle of nowhere would force them to fix their friendship. so, with that knowledge, he knew that he could do the same thing with jj and you.
you were always nice to jj, he just seemed to get annoyed with you all the time. you didn’t know what you had done, if you had even done something. he just always felt the need to critique you. it became harder and harder everyday to ignore him.
since washing up on the abandoned island, john b was ecstatic for his brand new start. unsurprisingly to anyone, his first idea for creating a new civilization would be a surf shack. he started building it right away. you would occasionally help, but he was determined to do it on his own so he would always send you away.
“okay! john b what would you like my help with? i can do anything you need. just let me know.” you smile brightly at john b, while he stared at you. “listen, i love you. but, i don’t need your help at the moment. you should talk to everyone else.” you frown at his words, “fine. but you better get me the minute you need assistance.” he nodded. “will do.” and with that, you left joining the others.
jj was talking to cleo before silencing upon your arrival. “hey everyone!” you smile at the group in front of you. “hey! how’s john b?” kiara asked. “i think he is good, he’s actually pretty much done.” you play with the bracelet on your wrist. kiara nods, “that’s great.” pope smiles, “statistically speaking, we can’t ensure that his shack will be entirely safe as he built it all on his own.” you stare at pope. “true… we’ll let’s hope it doesn’t collapse on him.” pope smiled at you, glad you listened to his random fact.
jj groaned. “awe, how sweet pope!! you found a girl who wasn’t disgusted by your weird and useless knowledge.” you gasp in shock, “jj! shut up you are so rude.” jj laughs, “it’s just a joke, why do you always have to be so offended?” you glare at jj. “jj it’s not funny, you’re just a dick.” pope sighs. “it’s okay, don’t worry.” you frown in popes direction. you quietly pull away from the group. you walk to an area of sand, plopping yourself down. that’s when john b approached you.
“hey, remember when i told you i would come get you when i needed help?” john b smiled at you. “yes! do you need my help?” you tilt your head to the side, waiting. he nods. “i need you to wax up some of the boards i made.” you nod. “okay! sure.” he walked you to his shack, helping you set up. you began waxing the board, paying attention to the direction and the amount of wax you were applying. john b waits a minute watching you, before he decides to leave.
after a minute, you see jj approaching the shack with john b who held a smug smile on his lips. you shake your head, confused. “friends.” he looked between you and jj. jj held an unamused look on his face. “as my close friends, you will wax these boards for me. you can’t stop until you guys fix whatever feud is going on between the two of you.” john b stands his ground. jj scoffs, “we don’t have a feud.” you nod your head in agreement. “jj is right, his hatred is definitely one sided... it is not a feud.” you laugh softly seeing jj send a glare your way. “yeah okay. whatever guys. just fix it, and if you even try and leave, i’ll send cleo after both of you.” your eyebrows lift in shock. you mutter a quick okay, returning your attention to the board.
jj stares at you, watching you apply the wax. he couldn’t help but get upset. everything you did just made him annoyed. he grabbed the wax, working on the board right by yours. silence falls over the two of you. it’s not awkward or weird, it actually feels quite normal. until jj interrupted it so he could judge you.
“youre doing it wrong. i mean come on.” you stare at jj, “jj please just focus on your own board.” you shake your head, continuing to polish the surfboard. he glares at you. “whatever. just keep doing what you are doing, and then john b or i will fix it after you.” his attention turned back to his board. you rolled your eyes. “i will, thank you.” he breathes in, inhaling the waxy scent. “you are so annoying you know that?” you ignore jj’s words, focusing on the board. he continues, “i mean everything you do. everything you say, it pisses me off.” you nod slightly. “you done?”
“no, actually i’m not.” you bite your lip, fixating on the wax that is spreading along the smooth surface. jj stops waxing the surfboard. you look up to see he is already staring at you. “you know, you act like you are better than us, i mean why do you hang out with us anyway?” jj waits but continues when he realizes you won’t reply. “you are fake, you are so upbeat and bubbly that it’s annoying. you are a double sided two faced bitch who says anything to get in good graces.” you inhale, looking up at him.
“listen jj. we are stranded on this fucking island. TOGETHER. so either drop it and move on, or just shut the fuck up and stay away from me.” you place your hands on your hips, breathing slightly staggered from anger. “everyone speaks so highly of you saying how great you are; but the only jj i’ve met is a total douche. if you hate me so much then just stay the fuck away from me. if you continue you’ll just be wasting your breath and energy anyway.” jj holds back a laugh at your sudden outburst.
“you really think if i had the choice, i would want to be here? especially with you?” jj asked, you already knowing the answer. you stay silent. “exactly. no one can deal with you for that long anyway.” you roll your eyes.
“whatever jj. you win.” you toss the wax to the side, frowning. you don’t turn back to him, you just ignore him. you start to walk towards the beaches seashore. it was getting slightly hot, so you decided to take a dip into the water.
you were salvaging the few moments of freedom you had, before you got john b’s and cleo’s wrath from leaving the scene before mending the friendship with jj. it was practically impossible. what did jj have against you? you tip toed into the water, getting deeper and deeper. you floated at the top of the water; the coolness feeling great on top of your hot skin.
jj truly had the biggest nerve, your mind was overwhelmingly clogged. you felt seaweed scratch against the bottom of your foot, this caused you to jump, your adrenaline levels rising since you thought it was a fish. you try to remain afloat, but the high tide caused the waves to crash right over you repeatedly, being faster and higher than ever. you went above water trying to shout for help, but your mouth was filled, causing no sound to come out. you thrash against the water, kicking to stay afloat. your throat was burning, your legs tired from kicking, and your lungs filled with liquid.
a pair of hands wrap around your stomach, dragging you out the water. you were placed on the warm sand. “shit.” jj stared at you. your head felt light. jj’s hand began pumping your chest, curses falling from his mouth. “come on, just breathe. please.” you cough, the salt water exiting your lungs, and dropping onto your neck. you gasp for air, opening your eyes to be met with jj’s face. you breathe heavily for a minute.
“jj… thank you.” you sit up, pulling him into a tight hug. your hands wrap around his neck, one of them grabbing his hair. his arms held tightly around your waist. his chest was heaving heavily, shaking slightly. “i hate to be so cliché j, but you genuinely saved my life.” he frowns at you. “i almost lost you.”
jj’s confession confused you. “what?” you say softly, your hand combed through his hair. “look. the reason i’m so mean to you, is because i knew that if i was nice to you, my already intense feelings for you would only amplify.” you frown at him. “you’ve had a crush on me this whole time?” jj nodded. you went to talk, but your friends interrupted the moment.
john b rushed to your side, kiara and pope swiftly behind him. “what happened!! we were watching from over there.” john b pointed in a direction farther away. “one minute you were swimming… the next you we’re gone!?” you wipe your neck, trying to dry it off. “jj saved my life. i almost drowned.” you frown, the group in front of you nodded. “im so glad you are okay.” kiara bent down pulling you into a hug. “i’m glad you are safe now too.” pope joined in on the hug; as well as everyone else.
sarah, kiara, and cleo bend down, reaching for your hands. they help you up, dragging you to your feet. they walk you away from the crowd, bombarding you with questions. “so when you were drowning what did it feel like??” you turn around watching jj, you smile slightly before turning to them. “oh get ready for the amount of details i’m going to give you guys.”
possibly a part two…??? not sure yet :) <3 also!! i’m proofreading this tomorrow since i’m not entirely sure if it has errors or not! ily!!
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mbti-notes · 3 years ago
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hi i’m an istj. i fear the problem im going to describe is resolved by being more Te proactive and taking on more leader responsibilities and failing. just typing that out makes me feel burned out and miserable. anyway i get involved with groups that align with my values to get things done but it always feels like i somehow join things that aren’t as efficient as i’d want them to be or stagnate. at the same time that i have strong opinions about what to do i resent having to take on more responsibility to enact it. i want to be part of an established, moral, process/group but it seems like everything is in flux all the time. just making sure: is this Te-Ne dysfunction ?
Your question is about type development. An important aspect of type development is understanding the weaknesses and flaws of your type, in terms of the ways that your type tends to misuse functions. You seem to believe that your problem boils down to a simple lack of desire to lead in group situations (weak Te?), but it probably goes far deeper than that.
Si-Ne problems often manifest as a general aversion to change, specifically, unwillingness to change how one looks at a situation, which would then significantly alter one's approach to it. Imbalance between Si and Ne becomes a very unhealthy stubbornness when one is also prone to Si-Fi loop that thinks in terms of pure absolutes. In essence, you believe what you believe and you want what you want, and nothing and nobody can break through that mental wall. Perhaps not even you.
Auxiliary development is meant to help with Si extremes and Si-Fi loop stubbornness by making you care more about empirical facts (Te) than your frustration (Fi). It isn't always easy to develop the auxiliary function when you come to believe that it interferes with what makes Si feel most comfortable (e.g. "just typing that out makes me feel burned out and miserable"). If using the auxiliary function feels so "tiring", it doesn't mean that you should avoid using it. Quite the contrary. It's an indication that you haven't yet learned to use it properly, which means further development is necessary.
Te wants efficiency, that much is true. However, what separates immature Te from mature Te is how exactly one conceptualizes "efficiency". When Te is immature, one has a very rudimentary understanding of how to be efficient. For example, one is likely to believe that efficiency is achieved through assertiveness or even brute force, i.e., "making" things happen despite all the obstacles in the way. Is it any wonder that using Te feels tiring, then? You're essentially forcing yourself to swim against the current. Si doms are painfully aware that their energy is finite, so they quickly run out of steam.
However, Te isn't really about mustering up energy. This is not what makes TJs smart, strong, and formidable. Mature Te conceptualizes efficiency as reducing the amount of energy required whenever possible, which is why they have a lot of energy to take on very heavy workloads - some people call it "working smart". This is done through facing the empirical facts of a situation head on and learning to work closely with them, which makes it far easier to make them work in your favor.
Your problem requires a two pronged attack:
Are you able to change how you look at situations in order to improve your approach (to address Si-Ne imbalance)?
Are you able to face the empirical facts of the situation and work with them rather than against them (to develop better use of Te)?
Wanting to be part of a process/group that aligns with your values in order to enact some good in the world is an admirable thing to strive for. Presumably, the other people involved in the group have the same sense of mission, otherwise, they wouldn't have joined. However, what you fail to take into account is that people aren't generally single-minded.
Human beings are complex because they are motivated by a multitude of factors, whether they realize it or not. They are full of psychological conflicts, contradictory desires, irrational impulses, old baggage, and unconscious bad habits. And when you bring people together, all that stuff comes out and creates complicated entanglements. A "group" only becomes a "team" when it is able to overcome those psychological obstacles together, and it can be a very long process of learning how to maximize strengths and mitigate weaknesses in every individual member. That's why a lot of groups simply fall apart. While your intention to join the group seems simple and straightforward (because Si-Te is admirable in its ability to keep things simple and straightforward), other people's intentions might not be so simple. If you fail to take into account the irrational aspects of human nature, you will cause yourself needless suffering.
Your frustration with people is likely a manifestation of your unrealistic expectations of them. Perhaps you aren't able to understand people who don't resemble you, let alone work with them. And you will certainly be doomed to fail if the only way Te knows to deal with individual differences is to force everyone to become more like you. That's an impossible task, not because it requires the energy of a thousand suns as you assume, but because you're choosing to fight against reality. Mature Te would advise that you should first face down the empirical facts of how people operate if you hope to discover the most effective way to influence them. Your repeated experience of feeling disenchanted with groups tells you that you're missing an important piece of knowledge about groups and how they operate.
I'll give you a very simple example from my own life. I used to gather with a group of 30-50 people once a week to conduct planned discussions. The discussions never really started on time despite everyone being in their seats because people weren't focused enough at the start of the session. There was often whispering and sidetalking and such that would go on for about half an hour before the room felt settled and focused.
One method of addressing the problem arose organically. Whoever was the main speaker simply started shushing people and it became a thing. Sometimes, it would even escalate to calling people out, like a teacher scolding a student in a classroom. This definitely made the social atmosphere less inviting and more tense. Sure, people would shut up after being called out, but they became less focused due to seething with resentment. Power struggles aren't great for group morale, especially if it's supposed to be a group of equals coming together for a common cause.
It all sounds quite childish, but these kinds of judgments are useless. You can call people childish, inefficient, incompetent, etc etc, but it doesn't solve the problem. And, worse, being judgmental blocks you from understanding people better and working with them. Perhaps an ISTJ would see this as a "mess", an "inefficiency" that wastes time, and evidence of bad character when people break the rules.
However, if you change the way you look at the situation, you might not be so quick to make such judgments. Actually, it's kind of weird for a bunch of people who know each other well to enter a room and immediately sit down quietly. Humans have a natural tendency to socialize as a way to strengthen interpersonal bonds. Isn't group cohesiveness a good thing, since it encourages better cooperation? If you are able to see the benefits of their chatty behavior and how it contributes to group cohesiveness, then instead of fighting against it, you would think of ways to harness it.
The real problem wasn't inefficiency; inefficiency was merely the symptom. The more primary problem was that a lot of people joined the group not just to "get things done", but also to make friends. The structure of the event denied them from fulfilling that important need and then they were more likely to act out. This problem was discovered when people had a chance to talk about what was frustrating them, which meant that the group had to make space to conduct some uncomfortable conversations.
To address the problem, the group eventually decided that the first 15 minutes would be devoted to socializing and allowing people to catch up, with the explicit promise to get down to business when the time was up. Some people brought drinks, others brought snacks. Some even showed up early to have more time to socialize. It enlivened people and enriched their relationships. Being "officially" allowed to get the chattiness out of their system, they were better able to sit down and focus on the planned agenda. The meeting felt like fun rather than a chore. And if you're interested in a cause, don't you want to recruit more people to support it? Making things more fun is one good way to attract support. You can look at it as wasting 15 minutes OR you can look at it as a 15 minute investment.
Solutions to human problems require:
cognitive empathy: figuring out what's really going on inside people's heads (in Te terms it means working only with the empirical facts of the situation, rather than indulging negative Fi judgments)
strategy: taking the time to work with people and figuring out the best way to help them get over obstacles (in Te terms it means investing energy early and wisely to maximize your returns later, rather than putting effort into the wrong places or only stepping in to tackle mere symptoms of the problem)
creativity: harnessing natural human tendencies to produce something useful or worthwhile (in Te terms in means taking what's already there and transforming it into a NET positive, rather than getting too fixated on every little negative detail and losing sight of the bigger picture)
Te can be a great function for dealing with human problems as long as you overcome the immature aspects of it, such as impatience, bluntness, or inflexibility. Every person is unique, so every group is different. Let go of the idea that there is only one way to approach a problem/conflict and you will start to be more creative in your approach. By accepting the fact that things are always in flux and using empirical evidence to understand and predict how change works, TJs become much more effective and efficient at everything they do. When it comes to people, meeting someone different from you is an opportunity to learn how to deal with that kind of person. The more knowledge you have of human psychology under your belt, the better you get at dealing with people's weird or negative tendencies. If a strategy works, use it again. If it doesn't work, adjust it to fit their psychology better.
In your situation, you see the problem as people being inefficient, so your inclination is to step forward and do something to "make" them more efficient. Humans aren't built with the prime directive to be efficient. They're not machines. Their psychology is messy, so trying to force them to behave like a machine is to force them to go against their psychology. In other words, you're choosing the least efficient approach. The more efficient approach, though it requires more intelligent thinking on your part (you want to become more intelligent, right?), is to properly understand the more primary problem of what's really causing them to be so inefficient in the first place. That is the way to discover the right strategy. If you are able to target those obstacles at the very root, efficiency improves more naturally.
Oftentimes, working smart doesn't require you to step up and be THE leader for everyone. As an introvert, it's probably more comfortable for you to work behind the scenes to talk to people, get a better idea of what they need and/or what problems they're experiencing, and incrementally remove the obstacles that are preventing them from focusing on what they should be focused on. You can't fix everything all at once, so just do what you can to fix what you are able to fix at any given point in time. It's a process and some progress is better than no progress.
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not-me-simping-for-blasty · 4 years ago
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bakugou thoughts pt 2001847471 :)))
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- if u go to the park, and somebody is like, walking their dog n the animal barks at y’all??? bakugou is barking back. mans full on squares up, n barks at the dog until it backs off
- he rarely gets into shows/series, but when he finds one he likes, he’ll only watch the first few episodes and then make u watch the rest with him. he’ll always say sum “if i dont watch with you, then i gotta make extra time for your needy ass. ‘m prioritizing my fuckin’ time. it doesn’t mean anything, shut up.” ...... he’s lying. it does mean something. it means he wants to share the things he likes with u
- pls he’s so smart, and generally pretty aware, but sometimes he’ll just do something so duMb. like, u kno that thing that happens sometimes with hair?? like, when it sticks to ur fingers and no matter what u do, u can’t get it off?? bakugou is literally breaking his wrist a foot away from u, shaking his hand back and forth and cursing soooo loudly. u just gotta go up to him and gently remove the hair from him like “oh honey- no.”
- peanut gallery comments. lots of them. mans will sit fully dead silent, not talking for the whOle day, but the second u do something embarrassing?? like trip??? suddenly he has a LOT to say ..... smh men
- animals just always like him. its absolutely unexplainable bc he’s so loud n moves super suddenly,,, but the amount of street animals that follow him home is ridiculous. srsly. sometkmes he even has other people’s pets trying to follow him home
- respects absolutely no one n that somehow strangely makes him the most respectful u’ve ever seen??? like- he hates everyone the exact same so u won’t ever catch bakugou in an act of discrimmination
- he can’t draw at all but if u asked him to draw something, it’ll be the same skull every single time. it’s a good skull, but it’s soooo obvious he learned how to draw it from a tutorial in the midst of his emo phase
- will fully make fun of others for baby-talking around their s/o, n then just fully go home n look at you like “tired.” “hungry.” “kiss.”...... like okay baby man, maybe try putting a full sentence together before u start trying to run your mouth. hypocrite.
- probably sleeps like the dead. contrary to popular belief, i absolutely do not believe he’s up at every single noise. man’s could sleep thru an explosion, im sure of it. that being said tho, it’s probably actually hard for him to turn his brain off n fall asleep. he prob goes to bed so “early” bc he has to wind down for a good hr or two until he’s ready to actually sleep
- he’s got a vendetta against salespeople. like, if his phone rings with some bullshit about a product? if somebody, god forbid, tries to walk up to your door? fully frothing at the mouth annoyed. will chew out any employee who’s too underpaid not to listen to him
- eats like an absolute animal. no rlly, its bad. holds his spoon with a fist and digs at his meal like its the gold rush. the worst table manners you’ve ever seen rlly
- he gets sorts antsy if he sits for too long, so he’s always off doing random shit. like, u’ll look out the window n he’s just like, raking the .3 leaves from ur driveway, probably trying to guess where the wind will be so they wont blow back
- ik this with my heart and soul okay,,, bakugou has never had a conversation with u that wasnt from exactly .2 meters away. like,, if he’s comfortable, then he’s just close all the time. like he’s waving his hands around and yelling and you just have to take his face in ur hands and go “im literally right here. ily but pls tone it down for the sake of my hearing.”
- very much guard dog behavior when y’all go out. absolutely will not leave ur side for even a second, like, at a bar or during a concert. even if u go to the bathroom he’s like, leaning against the wall and waiting right outside the door
- gets absolutely bitchy about your phone blowing up while you’re hanging out. its not that he’s suspicious that ur, like, cheating on him, it’s just that he doesnt understand why u’d even leave ur phone on in the first place since he always has his turned off when ur around. if he gets annoyed enough he’ll fully take the phone out of ur hands, say sum “yeah, you don’t fuckin’ need this anymore. you’re done with this.” n toss it across the room while he kisses u senseless
- tbh his ultimate love language is 100% playfighting. v much would go heart eyes if u even seemed like u might try n wrestle him. obvi u dont win, but his favorite is how u laugh while he pins ur hands above ur head
- he sneers at other angry people. will fully, fully sit there like “jesus christ, they need to calm the hell down. annoying as shit- fuckin’ loud too.” ....... -i. who’s gonna tell him
- silent conversations with ur eyes. no rlly. if y’all are with friends and somebody says something questionable, bakugou is immeadiately turning to u, eyes hardly even shifting but u just know he’s hurling insults in his head
- he doesnt realize his own strength sometimes. like- he knows he’s strong, but if u ever open a door n ur like “woah, careful, this is heavier than it looks” bakugou is .2 steps behind u practically ripping the damn thing off it’s hinges. he’ll look at it, huffing like he doesn���f even understand the issue
- he rlly likes when u call him by his name. pet names are fine, but he srsly is super soft for the simple stuff. like when u look over at him, all excited, smile wide like “hey katsuki, u gotta see this! c’mere!”
- his road rage is severe. no rlly. bakugou drives like every day is a race n he’s one win away from going formula one. you’re pretty sure that the only reason he passed his license test is bc the instuctor was too terrified to tell him no
- bakugou probably does that thing where if you’re sitting on the counter top, watching him cook, he’ll stand between ur legs. hands on ur thighs or resting on ur hips while you tell him about your day
- can’t explain this one, but he doesnt kill spiders. he takes them outside. says sum “they eat ticks, idiot. what- you actually want a fuckin’ blood disease? Hah? ‘m not gonna kill it. motherfucker’s gotta earn his keep before dyin’ just like the rest of us.” while he v gently picks the spider up into his hand and walks it outside
- ik that his one cheat food is sugary cereal. like, he’s a health freak, but the one thing he can’t help but make a concession for is sugary cereal on the weekends
- he’ll sometimes get in this over-stimulated mood where everything pisses him off, n the only thing u can do is leave him alone. u learn this quick bc his anger doesn’t discrimminate and if u push him even after he tells u what’s up?? pls bakugou will lash tf out. at u. like, ik y’all like to write it but that whole “it’s okay- it’s just me. just look at me.” thing does not work with him,,, u literally gonna get merc’d if u try
- he’s probably a guy who’s gonna be super big on passing touches. like he drops his hand on ur head when he passes, or bumps his shoulder into urs when he laughs. no footsies tho. too sappy even for him- pls if u tried to initate that he’d crush ur toes under the table aHAHAHA
- feeds every street cat he comes across. is probably super fond of the ones with a bunch of scratches/scars on them. he’d die if u knew, but one time u caught him feeding a scratched up calico n going “bet u beat his stupid ass, right? that’s my girl. we always win, huh?”
—/—
surprise suprise,, my brain rlly never shuts the hell up about this man
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head---ache · 3 years ago
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HI SAME ANON CUZ. THOUGHTS GO DRR but! yk that got me thinking like. WE DO GIVE SM ATTENTION TO DETERMINED and look good reason hes sonadow in a nutshell /J
howver im thinking of more ways the other sonics could have breakdowns, and do correct me if any of this is like not in character bc i love to ehar abt ur au!
ok first kindness – i think he would like have a goal for him to go to everybody weekly to ask if they need anything for him to help with (usually daily actually) and when he doesnt reach that "goal" he might think of himself as like less of a good friend bc he isnt helping enough which could SO turn into overworking and just!! BREAKDANCE OR BREAKDOWN WOO
chill i think would just do not as much as the others, opting o always lay down and just be calm n. chill! and maybe cux of that sometimes he thinks that he isnt as useful as the others sometimes but i jus think hes probably the least most mentally ill cuz hes like "no time for sadness when you swagness" (thats probly his motto)
energetic would deffo think hes too annoying to all of them but like!! he has too much energy!! he has to burn it off soMEHOW so theyre just like "no another time not now" and its like hes just!! he probably starts getting kidna sad but like he has other friends to play with, right?
determine is a bomb abt to EXPLODE and like!! he has pure anxiety, he always needs to know shadows and also his friends locations and they have to tell him or else he just starts panicking and cant function until he sees them again. also with how he blames himself for everything, probably has a tendency to apologize all the time so theyre confused cuz hed be with vanilla, cream, n amy and hed accidentally knock somethin over and go "im so sorry I shouldn't have done that why did i do that i should leave" and shadow probably has to calm him down the most
competitive is 2000% existing because he says he "needs to be better than everybody else" when its just "i want to prove to myself im good enough" when he cant, he doesnt know if he is bc like!! only shadow can race against him and they always tie and he probably ends up pushing himself So Hard that shadow has to just make a competition out of getting rest or else competition dead straight won't sleep until hes perfected this, gotten better at that, made sure he didnt lose any skill on something, or etc bc he still wants to prove to not just himzelf but to everybody hes good enough so they can confide in him!!
ok thats all (IDK IF I FORGOT OTHERS IM JUST. THINKING ALSO WATCHING TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES SO IM LIKE. GRATUITOUS COOL VIOLENCE OR WRITING. HECK YKNOW)
ANKAZOANZIQDNSOFNSKX YES!!! THESE ARE MY BOYS!!!! NO CORRECTION TO BE MADE THESE ARE T H E M !!!!!
Also, I usually draw them with the same other characters a lot, like I usually draw Competitive with Knuckles, and Knuckles at first just goes along, fights Competitive and everyone happy, but then it's like weeell he kind of has a very important emerald to look after, and everytime Competitive looses he wants a rematch and it just gets tiring. But like, Competitive feels the need to prove that he is strong and capable! So they get stuck on his loop.
Then there's Energetic and Amy, he kind of just shows up, looking to burn some energy, and at first she just lets him, but she isn't really pleased with having him running around in her house, he starts bumping into things and breaking some other, and even if he is sorry he just can't stop moving! Amy then starts trying to get him to stop, or to just get him out of the house but she also feels a little guilty because she knows he doesn't do it on purpose.
There's also Determined and Shadow, we all know Determined follows him around and tries to protect him all the time, but it starts to intervene with Shadow's life as well. Rouge is kind of annoyed by it, and it causes trouble at GUN, and Shadow's an introvert, so being followed around isn't really his favorite thing. I just imagine Shadow just walking while Determined is not only behind him, but looking around, suddenly making Shadow stop if he hears anything weird, or sees anyone suspicious, but it's actually nothing. Shadow would try to get him to leave him alone, but Determined always has the 'what if's.
Finally there's Chill, Kind and Tails. Tails is very busy, trying to find a solution for this five Sonics thing, but it's a little hard with two out of five always distracting him. I imagine Kind offering to help, at first Tails let him, but something goes wrong and he's like 'haha never again' and then Kind is just left to stand behind Tails, waiting to be given a task, while Chill isn't actually helping at all, he's using all the space just laying around, if Tails ever needs him he's okay with helping??? But he doesn't really put all his effort in, so in the end it's as if he did nothing. It's not that he doesn't want to help, but like, why ask him? Kind is already there and eager to help.
I also like to think about interactions between the Sonics! Because some of them are kind of opposites, like Kind and Competitive, or Chill and Energetic (or Chill and Determined), so it's fun to imagine things like Competitive going around showing everyone how strong and fast he is, and Kind's just like 'well you're not being very nice' and Competitive doesn't really know how to react???? Or Determined being all worried over something, and desperately trying to fix it, and Chill just being like 'dude chill, you're exaggerating way too much' So that's interesting too, even more considering it's quite literally just Sonic talking to himself:)
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bakugohoex · 4 years ago
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uwu hcs for jean and eren with a s/o who’s bold in giving affection but gets easily flustered when they’re the one receiving it 😗
“now whose the flustered one”
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paring: eren yeager x female reader, jean kirschtein x female reader
cw: implies nsfw, kissing, heavy flirting, fluff
word count: 2400+
a/n: sorry for the lack of content, but i hope you guys like this, im trying to get through all the requests before i go on hiatus but hope you like it any comments will really benefit, also i didnt read it properly but its a headcanon sort of, idk sorry im tired 
summary:  in which giving affection to the boys always leaves them swooning but as soon as they do it to you, you become an entire mess in front of them
↞ back to attack on titan masterlist
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eren yeager
You had known Eren since day one of the cadet corps, both meeting one night out on the barracks. You had seen him around whilst in the cadet corps, but you talked to Sasha and Connie a lot more than you did him and his two friends who always seemed to follow him around.
But the one encounter late at night had bloomed a friendship where you both became closer than anybody realised. Now two years later, on the brink of graduating and joining the survey corps you and Eren were partnered up to spa with the boy, the consistent teasing and flirting for two years flowing out from your mouth.
“Aww is Eren not able to beat a girl.” You mock going in for a punch, he dodges but cocks his head backwards in a laugh.
Looking at your much shorter frame, he goes in for a punch himself, “I’m capable of beating anyone Y/n, that includes you.”
You’re the one to laugh this time, arching your back to miss the swing of his fists, “maybe you’re going easy because you like me, it’s fine a cute boy like you, I might let you win.”
He blushes but tries to hide it with his fists raised, “like you, I could never.” The back and forth continuous on, everybody in their own worlds except Armin and Mikasa, the latter being annoyed at how you hit him.
“Come on Eren, aren’t you going to try harder.” You tease before you feel him grab your arm and flipping you to the ground, he stood on top of you his feet planted beside your waist.
An idea popped into your head as you quickly grab his arm dragging him down on top of you, you heard Mikasa shout his name but you both ignored it. His body on top of yours, you smirk feeling his hands on the sides of your body. He encased your body in his own and you leant up to meet his ear.
“Baby if you wanted to get me in this position, all you had to do was ask.” You kiss the side of jaw the blush on his face evident. Mikasa and Armin had come up to you both, confusion at how you both just stayed there.
The flirtations had been a common occurrence, you weren’t just naturally flirty with everybody you happened to have a soft spot for the boy and maybe a teensy crush. And the only way for you to let it out was through teasing and flirting which he seemed to enjoy a lot.
“Eren are you okay? Did she hurt you?” Mikasa speaks worriedly grabbing the top of his shirt to get him up, his cheeks visible to everybody.
You laugh getting up yourself, “Mikasa I’d never hurt the pretty little thing.” His eyes flash, widening at how easily you can flirt and tease at him, evidently a rush had gone somewhere else with how he grabbed his jacket from the floor covering his lap.
“Eren you shouldn’t put dirty things on your clothes.” Mikasa spoke about to grab it.
“I’m fine.” Eren muttered back, he watched as you walk a way a grin on your face at how at ease you were.
It wasn’t till after you all got back to the barracks that he could sort the downstairs problem and all he could imagine was you. A happier grin on his face he joined everybody for dinner, the bread being stale and the food being grim to say the least but the first thing he notices was how you, Jean, Marco, Connie and Sasha were on the table with Armin and Mikasa.
He shrugged it off grabbing the food and going to the table, “where were you?” Mikasa questions ready to give her his seat, but he instead sits beside you. You hadn’t noticed him listening to Sasha about food and hunting a smile on your face.
“I had to sort something out.” You nearly jump out of your seat at the sound of his voice a laugh echoing through your ears at how close you both were. His arms touching your own.
“Sort something out yeh.” You muttered lowly, it was barely audible but Eren heard and as much as he loved the flirting, he needed to give you a bit of your own medicine.
He moved his face towards your ear, his hot breath fanning your ear. “You created a problem for me, so I had to sort it somehow…” his voice becoming even more quieter, “how about next time you help me yourself?”
You had watched the boy grow, watched everything for two years and now at the sound of him knowingly flirting back, knowingly acknowledging something was there. You heart fluttered and a heavy red scattered across your cheeks, you felt warm and in heaven.
He moved his head ready to start a normal conversation with everybody else, nobody having paid attention except Mikasa who always kept an eye on the boy. For her sake, you hoped she didn’t like him because you knew you were not letting him go. “Now whose the flustered one.” It was audible enough and your head spun out how he knowingly knew that you were blushing at his comment.
You could barely speak; he expected a response but was instead brought with your wide eyes and flabbergasted face. “i…i…”
No words came out and with Jean on the other side of you trying to gain your attention you stayed frozen. “Did someone break Y/n?” Jean mutters, Marco laughing at how dumbfounded you were.
“I…I’m fine.” You seethe out trying to cover your face with your hair, “I need some air.”
You weren’t trying to get away, but you felt embarrassed, they had known you for two years as a major flirt even more than Ymir was to Historia but the way you had easily got flustered over a proposition. It was humiliating to say the least.
You rushed out, moving past the people. You had been holding in a breath that you quickly let out, the warm air hitting your skin, you leant against the building, looking up at the stars before you heard a cough beside you.
You turn and see Eren, the boy looking down before meeting your gaze. “I shouldn’t have said that and I’m so…”
Interrupting him, you began to speak yourself, “you don’t need to apologise, I just didn’t expect it I thought you didn’t know of my feelings towards you.”
He smiles coming closer to you, he brings his hand to your jaw making you look up at him, your back pressed against the wall. His other arm against the wall trapping your head, “Y/n you’ve been flirting with me for two years you really think I’m that unaware of anything.”
You tried to turn your head away, but his grip made you face him, “I thought your only focus was killing all the titans, or you liked someone else and were trying to let me down easily.”
“I’m not a dick to lead a girl on for two years Y/n, I needed to get over some stuff and then everything happened, and we’ve nearly finished this whole thing and I realised in a couple days we’ll be in the survey corps and fighting titans and I might not have another chance to say this. But I love you.”
The last three words were a whisper, but it was all you needed for you to grab his hair pulling his face closer to yours. He closed the gap in an instant, his hand removing off your jaw and onto your waist, it was a sweet kiss, filled with love and lust. His tongue licking your bottom lip for access, which you allowed, soft moans came from you both. Hoping nobody would see but that was the last thing on Eren’s mind as he relished in the way your tongues moved together. It was as if you were both made to fit into each other. It was a needed kiss and the turmoil the would come made it even sweeter.
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jean kirschtein
The survey corps was the worst place to ever flirt ever. You and Jean had only just finished training and you were both thrown into the deep end with the first scouting mission, of course you and Jean had unhidden feelings, but it was always just flirting. Heavy flirting especially from you but just flirting.
The female titan being uncovered made everything become even more chaotic and finally when you both had gotten some sort of peace in where the main base of the survey corps were. You were spending it with your friend hoping no more disorder would come.
You sat at dinner, chewing at the bread as you leaned against Jean. He would often let you lean against him just to know that you were there, and to everybody you acted like a couple but you both knew that neither of you had admitted any feelings. You talked between yourself as the others had left themselves before it was just the two of you. They knew that once you two were deep in conversation nobody was every going to break past the two of you. Which was evident as you realised everybody had left.
“Where did everyone go?” You gestured to the empty dining area.
Jean looked around, you both had been in your own world, talking about everything you two possibly could, “they must’ve left.” He shrugs grabbing the glass of empty water. “You drank my water.”
“I was thirsty.” You try and gain sympathy, but he rolls his eyes at you.
He drops the glass looking at you again, “I wish I spat in it.”
“Gross but if you’re into that.”
“You’re terrible Y/n, I hope you know that” He mutters shaking his head, you had still been leaning against him but as you stretched, he knew what was coming.
“Come on pretty boy, let’s go on a walk.” You gesture about to stand up.
“Pretty boy, really.” He mutters but you could sense he had a thrill from hearing the words.
You pout standing up and putting your hand out, “would you rather me call you horse face?”
The nickname Eren had given him a plague on your tongue, he whipped his head to face you. Taking his hand in yours, he was a lot taller than you, but you liked the height different, it made you feel safe. “If you call me that I’m never talking to you ever again.”
You laugh at the boy before speaking, “I don’t need you to talk, just little moans will do it for me.”
He always admired your boldness, both your feelings there but never told to each other. It wasn’t like you two had even kissed yet and this had been going on for two years now. Of course your flirting always left him a mess, many nights along in his room thinking of you. Sometimes you came too close to him your breath on his neck, or it was how in your normal clothes you left a couple buttons shown to see your visible chest. Or even better how you said bold words that to anyone would only be reserved for a couple.
He knew how outspoken you were but you both had just not gone down to talking about your feelings. He himself never went to the extent you did but he loved watching you flirt with him and even make him jealous occasional by touching Eren’s arm.
He knew if in a relationship, you doing that would make him fuck you in an instant but right now he couldn’t do shit. He could only watch you flirt with  him, you both had arrived outside, the breath of fresh air hitting you both.
You saw some of your friends, seeing Connie try and fight Sasha for some meat presumably. You dragged Jean the other way, wanting him all to yourself. “You’re awfully quiet, what happened am I too pretty that you’ve gone quiet?” You giggle pulling him along the narrow alleyway, he admired how you occasionally looked around to make sure he was still following even though you were the one holding his hand.
Finally getting into the open area, you sat on one of the steps waiting for him to join, you undid a few buttons. His eyes fixated on your hand movement, “I don’t bite you know, unless you’re into that.”
A blush creeped onto his face, he shut his eyes to surpress it but to no avail he became a mess under your words. He sat beside you quietly, trying to think of what to say before an idea popped into his head, “a pretty girl like you shouldn’t be spending so much alone time with me, I might ruin you.”
“Ruin away.” You taunted back waiting for a comeback, he smirked facing you your head rested against his shoulder whilst looking up at his face. He was a pretty boy, you could imagine him ruining you, you had been known back in your town as timid and quiet, but it was really because nobody really took an interest in.
But Jean, he was perfect having come up to talk to you and as time went on you grew comfortable enough to stop being timid and be the loud outspoken person you are today. And it was all down to the hot head.
He touched your thigh rubbing is fingers up and down, a friction making you tense up. He had never gotten this close, never done this before but you liked it. “I bet you’ve spent countless nights thinking about me, you enjoy taunting me because it gives you a thrill, but both of us know that when we’re alone you’re just a hot mess…” He paused taking a breath, “just for me.”
You knew he was right, the nights tossing and turning not able to sleep, with thoughts of him touching and kissing you. Your cheeks erupted in a flush on embarrassment. You were the one to get shy this time, he grabbed your face, moving his lips closer to yours whilst speaking, “now whose the flustered one.”
He edged closer and closer before you closed your eyes and kissed him softly, the fireworks that erupted inside of you made you melt under his touch. He guided the kiss with his hand, making sure that you were comfortable but satisfied by it all, it deepened with his hand grabbing your thigh to bring you closer. You could almost feel his own thighs beneath him, his teeth tugging at your lip to gain access for his tongue. You obliged with ease, the movements of both your tongue perfectly balanced with soft moans erupting from your mouth. You felt dazed but enjoyed every second of it, because you had finally gotten the kiss you had dreamt about.
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kashimos-hajime · 3 years ago
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no regrets (8/8) | r.b.
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summary: For the first time, he thinks of a future he could have, and someone who loves him, and there’s something bright in his heart. Or, Reiner finally understands what peace is.
WARNINGS: MANGA SPOILERS!!! angst, mentions of violence, we get our happy ending :) pairing: reiner braun x fem!reader word count: 6.7k
a/n: welcome to the last chapter!! thank you so much for being on this journey with me. there are a few callbacks to previous chapters so see if you can catch ‘em all heheh 
masterlist
crossposted on ao3 x
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Few months ago ymir asked if I could let her write one last letter to krista, and I did let her. I stood over her shoulder the whole time, watching her pen down all this sappy shit and I kept thinking about you the whole time, behind those walls. What you were doing, what you were thinking. Maybe if you thought about me. I dont know.
I’m starting to see the appeal of wrting what youre not strong enough to say to a persons face. I never thought Id find myself on the other end of this stick. for some reason, I thought that I could stop myself, resist the temptation, or maybe that I didnt feel for you as strong as I thought I did once I was away from you. I was wrong.
What do I even say? I mean shit, I can barely see, my limbs are barely in tact, and all of it—shiganshina, it haunts me, even though I cant really remember it that well. Half of it goes black and then I remember hearing your voice, I remember Bertholdt, I remember you screaming.
You couldve walked away. why didnt you walk away? It doesn’t make sens. Why did you think to cut me out? Why did you try to save me? Im trying to make it make sense inmy head. It’s not working.
Fuck I dont know what I was thinking when I asked for a paper and pen. Why am I asking you questions? Its not like ill ever understand. At this point, I think it’s pity thats letting Zeke let me waste ink on trying to write straight. He doesn’t know what im doing, but thats better this way. Better than sleeping—better than eating. I just wanna talk to you and this is as close as I can get. Its my own damn fault, but I dont care. 
I completed my mission. After this, im done. ill give up the rest of my term. I dont want any of that glory anymore. I dont want to be a hero. Im just done.
Fuck, my head hurts so much. I dont really know if what im saying is making sense. Im hoping you never read this.
im sorry. I wish I could explain it to you some day, but chances are, ill be dead soon. Whether for treason or because they need to pass on the Titan, and I wont be able to see you again. Which means youll never know how sorry I am. How much I
Thats okay. I dont think youd believe me now even if I did say anything.
I remember your dream to live by the lake with a bunch of kids. You know I started to wonder if youd mind if they were our kids, not just some orphans who needed a home. I’d imagine one of them with blond hair. Imagine them swimming in the lake.
Never told you that was my dream too. Never knew i could have a dream of my own, something only I wanted and not just something to further marleys damn agenda, til I knew you. Sounds stupid but its true.
I think youd like Marley, if we weren’t sworn enemies. Just want you here with me right now. make me sleep easier knowing you’re there when I wake up. 
Dont want secrets either. Fuck I miss you so bad. I feel s o tired all the time. 
I rember when i first saw you all could think about was how you were the most prettiest girl id ever seen. I don know if you know thats why I tried to distance myself. Knew I couldn’t get distracted from my mison. happened anyway. Wish I could tell you that. 
wish I could tell you I love you. Wish I could see the look on yur face when you try lobster for the first time. Youd love it. Not sweet, but tons of desserts here too.
Shit. And the ring on your finger. ill put a ring on your finger. I promised. i swear ill go home and buy a ring for the moment I see you again. Might not be pretty but will do the best I can.
Olnly wnat only wnat only want to see you again and beg for your forgiveness. Let you know if I had a choice, I wouldnt have done it. Would take it all back, nd stay. i wanted to stay, stay with you and the others. I used to want to spend the rest of my life in those walls, now I think im sick and tired of them dividing people who arent even that differnet.
My eyes are beginning to burn. Worse because the skin is sitll growing back. Fucking hell god I miss you. miss your smile more.
I know i dont deserve your forigvneess forgiveness. I want you to be angry with me. I deserve as much, and I cant ask you to, but 
With love,
Rienr
You fold the letter, eyes closing as your fingers trace where the ink bled, the old tear stains wrinkling the paper beyond measure. Some are older than others, and you trace over his name again, your eyes burning, your throat tight enough to suffocate.
You’re leaning against the wall as everyone disembarks. They had taken Eren off first, Hange and the others getting ready to depart for the city while Connie and Jean lift a covered stretcher too white for the vivacious girl that lays dead beneath it.
They pass you silently, and you catch sight of a certain captain approaching, his pale eyes nearly swallowed by the shadows haunting his face.
“Captain,” you say, straightening. Placing the letter back into the tin, you slide it back into your pocket as he folds a green jacket over his shoulder. You give him a nod.
“You made it out alive,” Levi observes. He stops beside you, eyes more focused on what’s ahead. No doubt he’s not looking forward to having to take Zeke to wherever he needs to go—somewhere far, far away from Eren. You cross your arms. 
“It’s good to see you, too, Levi,” you intone. Sighing, you step in beside him and look out at the Walls you can’t see in the distance, your entire body wrought with a strange fatigue that’s only sewn into muscles by adrenaline leaving the body. “I think I’m going to stay.” He tilts his head to you, eyes flickering to your face, and you mirror the shift, your arms tightening. “I can’t leave this unfinished. Not after Liberio.”
“The farm will have to be abandoned,” he points out. “The kids, too.”
“I’ll make sure I move them where someone can take care of them. Somewhere north, far away from the brothers,” you assure, although still, your heart begins to sink and you close your eyes, exhaling deeply. “I have to hope they understand.”
Levi only nods, and you open your eyes as he wordlessly takes the jacket off his arm and offers it to you. Grasping it wearily, you open your mouth to ask questions but he only sets off, back towards the cabin where Zeke is still being held, and you snap your jaws shut, looking down at the jacket.
When you unfold it, you swallow the hard rock in your throat at the blue and white slipping beween the folds of olive green before there’s a sharp whistle. Looking up, you see the carriages already beginning to load up, and you glance back at the door where the captain has disappeared through before jogging down the ramp.
You slither your arms through the sleeves and shuffle the fabric along your frame as something thumps against your thigh, and you frown, reaching down into your pocket and coming into contact with something smooth and hard.
Withdrawing, your lips part at the green bolo tie gleaming in the lights of the port and you, without another thought, pull it over your head, letting it fall against your breastbone. 
“For your services to the Survey Corps.”
There’s no time to second-guess now. No time to debate.
“Good to have you back,” Hange murmurs as you walk towards the carriage taking Mikasa, Armin, and the others back to the city. You tug the lapels of the jacket tighter around yourself and flash them a weak smile. 
The Wings of Freedom on your arm feel like a brand, and it prickles your skin as you climb in after them.
.
Distantly, he remembers flashes. 
Eren reaching forward for Zeke, the exhaustion ripping him every which way, the sound of ODM gear whizzing in his ears as he tries to make sense of the punctured sensation in his armour.
How he had softened his nape, intending to die then. At least, let his death have some meaning, he had thought. Let him make one last effort to repent for everything he did to Paradis, and to his friends who’d been more family than his own mother.
He slips in an out of consciousness for the next few days. He doesn’t know what is up, what is down, but he does recognize his surroundings blearily, the way his head spinning somehow slowing when he presses his temple to the wooden floor.
How can he almost hear your voice in the echoes of the panels, countered by someone who almost sounds like Annie before he drifts off again.
When Reiner finally regains consciousness again, he wakes to someone crouched down in front of him. Jerking up, he lets out a sound before a palm slaps over his mouth and your face is shoved against his own.
“Shut it,” you whisper fiercely. “It’s just me.”
Your name muffled by your own hand, his eyes begin to burn and you lift your palm away as he sits up and you draw back. You’re dressed in clothes that look like they’ve seen better days but you’re relatively uninjured as you pull back. New lines adorn your face—one of the many prices of their damned war—and you only look exhausted. 
Sitting up, Reiner’s whole body groans as he leans against the wall, but he can’t tear his eyes away from you. Your hands are hovering around his body like you’re scared he’ll collapse and there’s a fracture in your mask.
Something gleams on your finger and his eyes flit to it, his heart lurching when he realizes what it is.
The ring. You’re wearing it. You…
For a moment, a glimmer of their teenage selves shine through and he wants to reach for it—touch it so he can remember what it’s like to be happy. He thinks it’s an awful like now; the swelling of his heart so big he can’t breathe; the way his lungs are static in his chest; how he can’t say anything because there are so many words that want to come out first.
“You’re here. You’re alive,” he finally settles on raspily. Your eyes glint with a youthful pain as you nod.
“So are you.” 
And he doesn’t know who moves first—you or him. Nothing is forgiven as their bodies crash in an embrace that lacks grace, but they cling onto another like the world is ending and they’re the only ones left standing. 
Maybe they are.
He buries his face in your neck, and your arms are so tight around him your fingers dig into his shoulders as your body melts against his and his skeleton sags in his own body.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers against your skin, eyes fluttering shut. “I‘m sorry.” A hand against your neck and an arm around your waist, he wraps his legs around your own and traps you against him. You seem to only sink into him even more.
Is that enough? I don’t want you to hate me.
You suck in a breath, and then it comes out shuddering. “You can spend the rest of what life you have left repenting for making me fall in love with a man who was always supposed to die.”
Softly, in his mind, your voice cools the searing heat of hatred inside him. It’s enough. It has to be.
“I’m sorry,” he says again. It’s like they’re the only words he knows. He can’t remember ever meaning it this much. For him dying, for making you love him, for ever coming to Paradis. For loving you. For loving you. “I’m so sorry.”
“I know. I know.” Your face turns to press against his own. Your lips brush against his jaw and his eyes slide shut, tears rolling down his face. “I read every single one of your letters.” Drawing back, you cup his face in his hands and your fingers smear his tears all over his cheeks as his palm rests against your neck. Thumb stretching up to touch your chin, he feels sobs shuddering in his throat at seeing you again—looking at him almost like you used to. “I can’t begin to understand, but I know you are. And I know you love me.”
Choking, he gasps, “You should hate me.”
“Yeah. Yeah, I should.” You’re crying, too, voice thick, tears stubborn on your cheeks as you give him a watery smile. “I should hate Marley, too. But it’s beautiful there. The water by the sea… I want to be there with you next time. We need to go together, before you leave me alone, okay?”
Reiner doesn’t quite hear you. He hears Marley, and beautiful, and he’s never noticed how beautiful you are when you cry, but right now, it’s the simplest truth he knows. 
“Okay.”
When you tilt his chin up and kiss him softly, something inside him explodes from the gentleness that makes him want to crack in the palm of your hands. It sears him from the inside out, makes him grab onto you like you’ll disappear—this is another dream, isn’t it? 
It has to be. 
You can’t be kissing him again after four years. He doesn’t deserve it. You’re an illusion, something his mind made up to deal with the pain. He’s finally cracked for good, just like Bertholdt said he would, and he’s the devil, not you.
But then you pull away just for a moment to smile, eyes barely open as you look at him with a sad tenderness that wraps him in an invisible embrace, and he is faced with the heart-wrenching reality. 
The sky is falling, you are holding him tightly again, and they’ve lost their years. But you’re here. With him. 
He knows that this isn’t a dream as he feels the coolness of the silver band on your finger and the heaviness in how he knows he hasn’t repented a damn thing. 
Why him?
As you run your hand through his hair, you press their foreheads together.
“And I do want a family with you, by the water if you’d like,” you murmur fleetingly against his mouth and his eyes widen, cheeks burning, entire face crumbling as he turns his face in to your shoulder, crushing you in another brace. Sobbing into your neck, his fingers dig into your shoulders, wrap tight around your waist, squeeze you so close he isn’t sure where you end and he begins and your lips brush the shell of his ear. “Reiner, say it.”
“Please,” he whispers thickly into your skin, and you cradle the back of his head with a hand. He’s nothing more than shambles. “Please, don’t go.”
“I’m not letting you out of my sight again,” you promise. His breath is hot against his own face as you pull his head back and cradle his face again, thumbs brushing away the tears from his red face. “Just a bit more. A bit more and then it’ll be all over, you know?”
And he understands, then, what you want from him. Struggling for breath, for his lungs to stop seizing in his aching chest, he cups your face that turns into his palm on instinct, your face wet with your own tears as, for a moment, they try to pretend this isn’t where they really are.
Like they’re still in that afternoon in Trost, a thousand years ago, with the kids flipping coins into the water fountain and a cream bun between them. Like they’re under the tree, apple juice on your wrist and his lips on yours.
Like it’s those trips to the city, the walks on the Walls. Honey is dripping down your chin and he’s pretending he doesn’t want to kiss you, or there’s grease smeared on his forehead, and you’re reaching up to wipe it off his skin.
Like a thousand moments all at once, and he nods to himself as you brush your hand over his temple. The world outside is startlingly quiet, as if the universe itself stopped everything itself to watch this moment, and Reiner takes a breath that bruises his sternum before he’s holding your left hand where that ring still sits.
And slowly, he pulls it off, whispering as firmly as he can. He’s sure he fails—he’s shaking all over from your presence alone.
“When this is over, I’ll put that ring back on your finger. I promise.”
The smile that splits your face is dazzling. It’s the smile he’s missed since the day he left it.
“We have a lot of things to work out, Reiner Braun.”
And your fingers barely brush his jaw before you’re leaning to press a sweet kiss against his mouth. It’s sugary on his tongue, like honey and apple slices.
.
Your back is warmer when you’re pressed up against Reiner’s. The ship is quiet, and their pinkies are just barely hooked on oen another’s as you stare blankly at the empty space between Connie’s boots. You don’t speak, and Reiner’s gaze is only on you. He can’t look at anything else now that you’re back by his side again.
There’s a cut on your cheek from the fight just half an hour ago, and there’s dried blood along your hands where your knuckles had split open, but everyone seems too exhausted to clean themselves up. 
Reiner himself has a blanket pulled over his shoulders, and he sighs, slouching in his own sack of flesh.
Your head tilts towards him, enough that your temple presses against his cheek. His eyes close and he leans into your touch. Not a word passes by, but their hold on each other’s hands tightens. And Reiner thinks. 
For the first time, he thinks of a future he could have, and someone who loves him, and there’s something bright in his heart. Something that hasn’t burned since he left Marley as a child.
Reiner thinks he doesn’t want to die anymore. He doesn’t want to miss you for another moment.
.
Raising from the steam, you groan, your hands searing from the inside out as you touch your face where you swore every inch of your skin had been stretched, but nothing seems out of sorts as you glance around. Everywhere, all your friends who had turned just as you had are in various states of disoriented. The air is still hissing, crackled with surprised screams and shouts of names as people look for one another across the field. 
It smells like cooked meat and burnt hair, a none-to-pleasant mixture that turns your stomach.
Getting to your feet, you wipe at your face, trying to ignore the weird feeling underneath your nails and the ache seizing your muscles. Trying to ignore the remnants of Eren lingering like a ghost that won’t really leave you alone. You shiver, and a strange cold sweat takes over your body.
He had taken you to the sea, except it wasn’t the shore you were familiar with. There was a cabin nearby, with blonde children running, chasing after one another and a man with golden hair standing on the porch, firewood in his arms as he calls out silently. Or maybe you had been standing too far to hear.
“Eren… where are we?”
“Wherever you think you are,” he had said. “I just brought you where you wanted to be.”
A voice, quiet as a memory, catches your attention. “Here let me help.” A soft wind blows throw the mist, cooling your scorching face as you feel a presence stand behind you.
“Oh, thank you.” You look over your shoulder to see a tall boy, and your heart stops. Mouth dropping open, you stare at his foggy image, but he only smiles fully, a smile so tender it reaches every corner of you as you stumble forward, fingers stretching for him. “Bertholdt!”
His smile grows only that much more, eyes squinting a bit and a flash of teeth before he’s looking at your hand that passes through his chest. All at once, all the hope built up in your chest crumbles, and your hand snaps back, trembling just before him. He lays a hand over your own and your eyes begin to burn, tears slipping down your cheeks.
And then, softly, you barely whisper, “I miss you.”
Bertholdt’s smile merely grows, as if to say everything he couldn’t say before. As if to show he’s at peace now—that your last memory together isn’t every part of him, and your lips press together, trying to stop yourself from shaking.
 Shadows form in the fog, and together, the two look as a freckled boy and another girl steps out of the mist a distance away, beaming like the sun. Connie and Jean stagger to their feet just behind you, and your heart lurches into your throat when you recognize them.
“Marco! Sasha!”
Someone calls your name and you turn around just as arms scoop you up and you let out a surprised noise before settling into Reiner’s arms. Looking over your shoulder to look at Bertholdt, your heart only sinks.
He smiles and Reiner lets out a sharp breath beside you, settling you down. “Bertholdt…” More shapes emerge. A shorter boy accompanied by another taller one, both alike in their features. You recognize one as the Jaw Titan holder before Falco, but the other—
“Marcel!” Reiner chokes out the name, hand stretching out to the fog, but the boy merely tilts his head and waves.
Closing your eyes, hot tears streak over your cooling flesh as you fling your arms around Reiner again and press your face into his neck. He cradles the back of your head, and he feels… somehow weaker, but still, there is that impassable strength in his core that wraps around you as he watches over your shoulder, still clinging on despite your clothes hot enough to burn.
I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive, I’m alive. It’s the only thought in your head. Your last clear memory had truly been the others taking flight, and the pain that had ripped apart your body before sewing it back together again in unjust proportions. Your limbs had been too big, your blood racing too warmly through your head as your legs pumped but your brain screamed to stop. 
Your fingers had sank into Reiner’s legs to pull him down and you had watched—watched Jean take a bite out of him—
You shiver and Reiner’s arms tighten around you instinctively, constricting enough to let you know that his attention isn’t on you quite yet.
Boots shifting on the ground tentatively, your knees feel gummy as you draw back long enough to look at him. He still looks over your shoulder, and you follow his gaze to watch the mist retreat. Bertholdt and the other two boys fall into a pool of fog, and your lips part in a farewell, but it’s already too late.
He’s gone.
A wind sweeps through the battlefield, tickling your sweating neck and cooling your boiling blood.
“Hey,” a soft voice croaks.
Their eyes meet in tandem. He regards you softly, like you are the reason the sun rises and the stars hang at the sky. Overwhelmed, you can only cup the back of his neck and pull him into a deep kiss. Your other hand along his jaw, it takes all you can not to pull him into a bone-crushing embrace that’ll send them both to the ground.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” you whisper hushedly against his mouth, throat swelling as he lets out a soft noise of surprise as you pull him into another tight hug. You don’t care that you’re crushing him, just that his heart is pounding against your own chest. “I couldn’t stop myself. I’m so sorry.” 
His eyes widening, he wraps his hands around your wrists and pulling you back just enough to kiss your fingers that crumple against his mouth. Clasping one of his hands in both of your own, you close your eyes and he uses his free fingers to brush the tears off your cheek before reaching into some dented tin you don’t recognize.
Eyebrows furrowing, you feel the heat leave your entire body, sapping your energy too, and your eyes snap to Reiner who steps back, cracking it open and presenting it to you. 
“You’re not the one who has to be sorry. I don’t think I’m the Armoured Titan anymore,” he whispers. “I don’t know if I get the rest of my life back, but either way, I want to spend the rest of it repenting to you in any way I can, if you’ll allow me to.” A weak smile. “Truth.”
Your throat closes up, and you stare down at the ring so protected, gleaming despite the destruction around them. It looks almost out of place amongst the grime smearing your skin, the sweat drenching their skin, the smell of blood and metal clinging to their clothes, but Reiner only watches you with a tenderness you can barely meet. It’s so overtly overflowing with devotion that your heart is resting on your tongue, seizing control of everything. 
You barely nod, chewing on your lip, trying not to cry even harder as his eyebrows rise in relief and he lets out a long sigh.
He lifts the ring out of the tin, snapping it closed before sliding the band back home onto your finger and all at once, everything floods you. The exhaustion, the pain, the hunger, thirst, grief wrapping around your bones and chaining you to the ground.
It’s over.
The minute he put the ring on your finger, it would mean it was over. No more blood, no more fighting.
Just like he promised.
You barely croak out his name before you fall to your knees. You trust him to catch you, and he does.
[THREE YEARS LATER]
Just after the Rumbling had stopped, you had gone back to Paradis alone and came back with three children to a man who was still uncertain in a world that was changing. 
Since then, you’ve learned so much about the world, about yourself, about Reiner. 
How he’s seized by night terrors even now, just like you, and how one thing that soothes it is going out for a walk while the sun still simmers below the horizon, the sky a dark navy blue spliced with orange rays. The intricate details like him making a point to tie his own tie because his father never taught him how or the way he has to chug his coffee so he has enough energy to get through the day.
And some days are horrible, haunting, but now, it is far outweighed by the good. He teaches Xav how to dress smart, takes the girls out shopping. Sometimes, he’s spotted around Liberio with a flame-haired boy riding his shoulders, you trailing behind hiding a smile behind some ice-cream.
Different nations, foods, cultures surround you now—citizens of countries coming to settle down roots, spread cuisine to Marley. The idea before, of humans so different than you but still similar at the root of it all, existing, still blows your mind. The technologies that you had never seen before, languages you’d never heard, sights you’d never seen, had all swarmed you as you stepped into a new world with him.
But there is always one thing you’ll come back to.
Leaning against the railing in the port city Reiner told you was the harbour he had left twelve years ago, and returned to seven years ago, you watch the clouds travel in slow drags across the pale blue canvas hung high above your head. The water spans for as far as you can see, glimmering under the sun and gorgeous enough to take your breath away. You pull at your coat across your chest absently, ignoring the tender growl of your stomach. 
Breathing in the salty wind, you feel your chest expand at the litle fishing boats a little ways out.
Reiner was right. You don’t get sick of the sea. You never will—not of this much water. You still remember the first time you had swam in it, the salt-water making your hair crisp, the cold sweat forming on your your sun-warmed skin.
You feel a hand on your shoulder. Looking up, you spot blonde hair and warm eyes and smile. Your heart flutters a bit. You shift on your feet.
“Hey.”
“Hey.” Reiner leans down beside you, and you clasp your hands, letting the sea wind curl against your neck. Reaching to slip his hand in between yours, he sighs and you lean against his shoulder, glancing at their pile of interlaced fingers. “Are you okay?”
“Of course,” you whisper, although even still, you can feel a numbing at your fingertips. You remember what it was like to be a Titan, even now. The sensations haunt you—flashes of your own mutated body, the grotesque meat of your hands sinking into the ankles of the man beside you, the bloodcurdling roar spilling out of your throat.
Glancing at their fingers, you watch the flashes of silver of the rings play in the sunlight, your band now having a matching counterpart on his own hand. You grasp his hands tightly, bringing them up to your lips and his own grip tightens when you dust a kiss gently along his scarred knuckles.
“No,” you finally say at length. “I’m not okay. Going back to Paradis makes me nervous as hell, but we’ll manage.” He nods slowly, and you let go of his hands to wrap your arms around his neck. His own encircle your waist, pulling you flush against him and your eyes close at the familiar warmth—a warmth you’ve woken up next to most days for the past three years. 
“Have you eaten yet?” he murmurs, and your fingers play with the soft edges teasing at your pads as his nose presses against your cheek. Your eyes flutter at the soft heat emanating from his skin, and you shake your head, melting against him. With one arm still around you, he slants his body away from just enough to pull a bag out of his pocket and it crinkles as he hands it to you. Taking it, you frown and look inside.
A cream bun. You can’t help the crumbling in your expression and Reiner holds your face in his hands carefully, kissing the corner of your mouth.
“Let’s stay positive,” he whispers. “We don’t know the situation until we get there and Historia briefs us.”
“I know,” you whisper and his entire expression eases at your words. His eyes gaze at you as if you’re the sole centre of his universe, and he cups your jaw more insistently, pulling you in for a gentle kiss, one you ease into, your eyes fluttering shut as his tongue traces the seam of your mouth. Laughing, you feel his little nose scrunch and your heart bounds up into your throat as he pulls back only to kiss you again, softer this time.
“Get a room!” A sharp female voice ruins their moment and you pull back just enough to see a red-headed boy running towards them and Reiner crouches down just in time to scoop Xavier up.
“When are you getting married?” he demands. “I was promised cake when you guys got married.”
“I dunno. When you move out of the house I guess,” you tease and Xavier pouts, rubbing at the side of his nose with the heel of his palm.
“Besides, you got cake for your seventh birthday, buddy,” Reiner groans as the boy twists in his arms. “You’re getting heavy. What are you feeding him?” he adds, smiling roguishly at you and you roll your eyes as Alina and Anya approach, sun hats protecting them from the glaring sun. Alina, grocery bags in hand, waves. Anya, who’d been the one to shout, tucks her coin purse back into her bag before flashing you a great big smile.
Only fifteen and seventeen. You can barely recall what it’s like being that young anymore, but you’re grateful they didn’t spend it the way you did. They get to know beauty, and no limits at all. The former comes naturally, the latter is partially because Reiner spoils them rotten.
Alina picks a flower with velvety purple petals from a bouquet she cradles in her arm, extending it to you.
“For good luck,” she says. “And protection.” Your heart melts at her words and you pause for a moment, looking from the gorgeous bloom to Reiner, occupied with the boy in his arms making silly faces at him. Then, without another moment, you sneak the flower behind his ear and he reaches up immediately to hold it against his head, turning to you in surprise. 
“To protect the both of us,” you explain.
“Thank you. I’ll be extra careful now.” He looks at the girls, setting his free hand on Alina’s head heavily and she flushes, smiling grandly. “You three behave while we’re gone, alright?”
You nod. “Listen to Levi.” 
“And listen to your sister,” Reiner adds to Alina and Xavier. The former rolls her eyes, the latter sticks out his tongue. “I’ll miss you.”
This is their home—their family that tumbles together into a huge hug, and you can’t help but stand back, watching how they all seem to merge into one unit, unaware of where one part of their reach ends and another begins.
As Reiner pulls you into the hug, your heart soars through your body, effortlessly pounding in your throat and in your fingers and everywhere at once. Liquid heat pools everywhere as Xavier screws up his face when you kiss his cheek, the same way Reiner does after he’s eaten something sour.
And maybe it’s a bit different, or a bit broken, the shards of their bloody history still poking at their heels whenever they think you’ve forgotten them, and it’s most definitely not perfect, but you would rather have it like this then anything else.
“Hey, guys!” Breaking apart, the family look over to see Armin, Annie, and Pieck walking over. Gabi and Falco meander a little bit behind, pushing Levi in his wheelchair, and Jean and Connie are running not far behind them, shouting at one another. You stifle a laugh and Xavier shimmies out of Reiner’s hold to run towards them. The girls follow after him, trying to hold back their runs but the closer they get, you can tell the more frantic they are to say goodbye.
So this is what they’ve made a peace. Something, you hope, is good.
Annie bypasses them quickly, making her way over to you and you survey her face as Reiner squeezes your shoulder, walking over to their friends. Her blue eyes are fixed on your face, and you feel your lips curving into a smile as she shoves her hands in her pockets. Her hair is swaying in the wind, gleaming flaxen, and you remind yourself, not for the first time, that Armin and Annie’s kids, if they ever decide they want them, will be gorgeous.
Hope for the future, and all that.
She stops in front of you, tucking a strand behind her ear.
“So,” she says at length, “we’re going back to Paradis. I’m surprised you decided to come with us. You don’t owe any of us anything.”
“I know. But… you’re my best friend. You do the talking, I fly the getaway plane, right?”
“Yeah. There used to be a time when it probably would’ve been the opposite.”
You nod, and they stand in silence for a moment, watching each other. Two women who should not have been friends, but were against all odds. You don’t think you would be here today if it weren’t for Annie.
Your heart lurches and you take a step forward just as she does, her mouth open to say something. You throw your arms around her and she lets out a noise in surprise as you close your eyes. Arms coming underneath yours, her hands dig into your shoulders and you smile against soft hair as she sighs, easing into your hug.
“Finally working together on an actual assignment,” you mumble and her head tilts as her small frame shifts, a hand patting you on the back as a sign for you to back up. “Just like we always said we would.” 
Bluntly: “Just don’t do anything stupid.”
“You, too.” Pulling back, the two look at one another for another soft moment before you remember the bag in your hand and you shift the bun up in the bag, extending it towards her. “Want some?” Her eyebrows rise in faint delight, before she’s reaching over, pinching and tearing a piece off. 
You grin and do the same and you gesture for her to come stand by the rails with you, stuffing the bag into your coat pocket. Leaning against the warm metal again, you hear a seagull call. The plane you’ll be flying to Paradis floats on the water, the technicians giving it the final check before you take off.
If anything goes wrong while you help prepare and oversee accommodations for the rest of the ambassador group, you’ll remember to fire the black signal flare, but you trust Historia. You trust your friends.
You glance over at them, all laughing, and you notice that the flower has gone from Reiner to Pieck, who’s taking it out of her dark hair to tuck it into Jean’s, and his cheeks redden as he brushes it more securely behind his ear.
Annie catches your attention again, pointing out idly that they’ll have to separate soon when they finish with the plane, and you tell her to just wait a couple minutes more as Reiner catches your gaze. Setting Xav, who has somehow wormed his way back into his arms, down, he walks back over to you, and his hand trails purposefully over your back before resting at the nape of your neck, a reassuring weight on your body.
“You guys okay?”
“We’re fine,” Annie replies. “You have a clingy boyfriend,” she tells you. 
“I think it’s charming.”
She rolls her eyes. Reiner smiles, and you pat the railing beside you—silent invitation. He leans in on your other side, clasping his hands and watching the fishermen pull themselves to shore, singing a tune to each other—one familiar to all three of them and one that you wish you could get out of your head. 
“Soon may the Wellerman come…”
A faint breeze tickling at your fingertips as a sharp call for embarkment splits the harbour, you simply sigh and look over at Reiner. “I just want these last few moments to last.” His eyes meet yours, and he leans forward to press a kiss between your eyes. Annie lets out a soft noise of disgust and you bump your hip against her as Reiner pulls back.
Closing your eyes and lifting your head to the wind, you can almost imagine the one person missing standing on the other side of Annie, dark hair like spun, stained bronze and eyes like warm chocolate. He’d smile and tell them not to worry in that sincere way of his that makes you believe every word he says—as long as they were careful, they wouldn’t walk into any traps.
Your chest aches, and your lips tug into a heart-wrenching smile as you begin to sing along. Reiner slips a hand in between yours, pressing his temple against your head and you loop your other arm through Annie’s.
She rests her head on your shoulder, listening to your voice, eyes on the sailors bringing in their haul below them. Reiner hums the shanty softly, distractedly, eyes cast across the sea.
You tilt your head up to the sky, at the stars you cannot see but will join one day, and smile.
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jolalibrary · 3 years ago
Text
Stood Up + Salads
Diego Hargreeves x Fem!Reader Words: 1.5k AN: Set with a S1 Diego but not S1 or S2 storyline. For a friend, you know who you are.
He didn’t need to look up when the door goes, he knows it’s you. Because when it rains, it pours.
Diego wonders if he should be more upset about his father, rather than being upset he’s had to see the others. Only for him to take his frustration out on you, consciously or not.
The fact you allow the door to meet the frame with such a loud thud is enough of a signal to him that you’re pissed.
Diego takes a second, thinking of his next steps as he swipes his tongue over his teeth, staring at the punching bag, as if it’s going to provide any answers on what he should do. How he could get out of this. Because if he plays this wrong, which he will, it’s going to spiral. Becoming so much worse than it already is.
A whole lot fucking worse.
And it’s already bad.
Hitting the bag once, twice and then thrice, he pays attention to your footsteps nearing. Not turning, not needing to see if your arms are folded, lips pursed and giving him one of you signature dead expressions. He knows you will be, because Diego fucking knows you and you know him.
And he hates it.
He despises that you know about his tick. About his family. About his upbringing, talent and everything else in between. He hates that you suggested calling off the meal before he did, and he hates himself for agreeing to go even if he knew he wouldn’t attend.
Because he’s decided he hates being happy.
He likes being miserable, likes fighting petty crime without anyone to come home to.
“Asshole.”
Rolling his head, he casts his eyes over you. Finding you exactly as he’s imagined. The only—slight—difference is the look in your eyes.
Sadness. A look which doesn’t suit you. One which stands out to him, because he’s seen it so rarely.
It swirls in your eyes, mixing with your usual shade, darkening them as they pin him to his spot. Or try to.
Letting his hands fall to his sides, he lets out a sigh before he can help himself. And the glare you send him is enough to force him to turn to face you.
When it comes to you, he isn’t sure if he hates how close you are to him physically or metaphorically; not sure if he dislikes it more that he wants to kiss you or let you love him.
“Hello to you too.”
Your lips twitch into a smirk. “You don’t deserve a hello.”
“Touché.”
“Surprised you know that word.”
“Under all this, I’m clever y’know?”
“Are you?” you snap, and you roll your lips together.
Those painted plump lips that’s kissed every inch of him. That he’s woke up dreaming about and gone to sleep pressed against.
“You’re angry—“
“Oh, I’m past angry, Hargreeves,” you says, tapping your foot on the gym floor. “I was angry when I was on my second glass, wondering where you were. I was fuming when I left, embarrassed and ready to hunt you down. Now, now I’m almost murderous.”
He hasn’t been called his surname in sometime. Hasn’t found himself in hot waters, with you at least, in sometime. Even angry, he feels your eyes rake down his frame, following a bead of sweat which falls from his neck down his chest and stomach.
Pulling the gloves undone with his teeth, snaps your eyes back up. And he finds himself smirking at you and his own foolishness simultaneously.
Because deep down he’s known this day would come, where you—like most—tired of him. Finding yourself irritated with his ways, of his selfishness and his impulsiveness.
“Let me have it then.”
He throws the gloves to the floor, shifting his weight as he notices the slight narrowing of your eyes. The way your lips twitch, whether a smirk or a smile, he can’t be sure. Usually, there’s less talking when you’re like this; usually you’re already pinned under him or against something. Now, you don’t even look at him like you’d welcome that.
Diego hates you for that too.
Despises that you have gotten under his skin, throwing him off his game. He’s dated. Well, since Patch they’ve not been constant. Real or permanent.
But you, you got to him. He still doesn’t even know how.
You don’t bend as easily, don’t surrender as you should. You fight him, sometimes tooth and fucking nail, and fuck, he doesn’t hate that about you. He loves that. He loves it when you steal the wind from his sail; when you cut him down. You don’t pander to him, you call him out, and he needs that even if he can’t admit it.
He even doesn’t mind that you sooth the insecurity, recognising when enough is enough. Halting anything before it goes too far, leaves too many wounds. You make him want to try to be a little better, even if he fails most days.
“No.”
“No?”
You snort. “No. Because if I rip you a new one, you’ll find some way to say sorry. And, then you’ll kiss me, and I’ll melt, and then you will forget that you’re an asshole.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever forget that.”
Your jaw tenses, almost impossibly so. “For someone in your position, you have a lot of snark.”
“Be careful, you may hurt my feelings.”
Nodding, your lips twist before straightening to an unreadable expression again. “Oh, don’t worry. I’m done.”
His muscles relax.
And his heart stops.
Yet Diego is somehow, not as surprised as he should have been.
Even if he looks at you, staring at your eyes and hoping to see a tease, a jest. He looks hoping you will change your mind, that he hasn’t successfully pushed another person away.
“Took you long en—“
“Im done talking,” you continue, cutting him off. Taking closer steps, slow ones, full of purpose as you dig your eyes into him. “I’m not gonna ask you to do right by me, I’m not gonna ask for an explanation why you decided to stand me up tonight. Hey, you don’t even have to talk to me.”
His forehead creases, flicking his eyes from your eyes to your mouth.
“Because I know why. You want me without the commitment, without the expectations of being a good person. You want a hole to fuck, so here I am, Hargreeves. You’ve got one.”
Fuck.
He stifles a sigh, especially as your finger press into his chest, nail digging down into the skin as you roll your lips and then he has to focus on not groaning. Especially when you bat your eyes lashes and smirk so condescendingly he wonders if you’ve been sent to test him.
“You want to pretend you don’t crave normal, that you don’t deserve it,” you continue, looking up at him, “I’ll play pretend. Hey, I’ll become the best damn actor in your movie you’ll ever know. But, I’m done talking.”
You place your other hand on his, moving his to your hip as you smirk.
“So, lights camera action, baby. Where do you wanna fuck me first?”
He feels your lips ghost over his. His hand clenching around your hip. Everything inside of him telling to just go with it, to not talk, to not burst open in front of you.
To kiss you.
To throw you down on the mats and not talk for hours.
“I-I’m s-sorry.”
“No. No you’re not,” you says, full of sadness, your expression not changing to match your tone. “If you were, you’d have come to dinner. You’d have stabbed your fork into the salad before I’d have told you I want street food.”
You didn’t move, and neither does he. Your hand spreading over his chest, his hand still on your hip.
“You don’t let yourself enjoy anything, because what? Your dad was an asshole and your brother went to the moon?” You ask, head tilted. “Diego, I don’t give a shit if you’re number two, you’re number one for me. But you have to try. You have to try at least ten percent otherwise it’s just me, forcing you to be with me.”
He never feels forced. Not with you.
You’re sometimes the only thing which is good. Which isn’t fucked, tainted or ruined. You’re good, if not a bit too sweary and a bit too good at drinking. But, you’re… nice, and unwilling to let him settle.
“You’re m-my number o-one too.”
“Cool.”
“I mean i-it.”
“Nice.”
“Baby, c'mon?”
You sigh. “What, Diego?”
Diego. He’s Diego again.
He doesn’t smile, even if he wants too.
He doesn’t kiss you, even if he’s fighting every part of himself.
He just stares, using his other hand to cup your cheek. “I am sorry.”
“Salad at a fancy place too good for you?”
He smirked. “Yeah, kinda.”
“Good. Because it’s too fancy for me too.”
“So why we’re we even fucking going, baby?”
“Because,” you say, defiance in your tone, “it’s what normal people do. They don’t meet over a bad game of darts and several beers, and fuck on a boxing ring. They don’t fight a literal mugger with trained assassin-level knife skills a month after beginning to sleep together.”
Your shoulders sink, your expression softening. “They date, at restaurants who charge too much and hold hands across parks. And for a second, one tiny fucking moment, I wanted that for you. I wanted normal, meet-cute type romance before we grabbed whatever was in a cart and we fucked on my new sideboard.”
His thumb brushed over your cheek. “I’d have liked that.”
“You’d have loved that. But—“
“I’m sorry,” he says again, softer, more meaningful, “I’m s-s-sorry. I really am.”
“I’m still mad.”
“That’s okay.”
“You owe me a fancy salad.”
Smirking, he nods. “Baby, I’ll give you a salad bar if you want it.”
“I don’t like salad.”
“No?”
“No.”
Smirking, he cups your cheek with more purpose. “What do you want then, baby?”
He watches your eyes darken. "Oh."
"Oh, indeed. You have a lot of making up to do.”
145 notes · View notes
rudystopit · 4 years ago
Text
His Little Toy
[yuji itadori x f!reader] 
request: @matildatheaquarius​ : “... the reader being like used like a flesh light for the jjk boys ( preferably yuji or nanami...) 
warnings: NSFW, dom!yuji, handcuffs, overstimulation, rough sex, oral, degrading, choking, spitting, bdsm themes, dubcon/noncon, face fucking, and crying.
wc: 2.2k
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you had been away on a mission for a few weeks. yuji had been texting and calling you non stop the whole time. at one point you just turned it off and left it in the hotel room. once you got back gojo instantly sent you into town to deal with a low grade terrorizing a local school. you didn’t even get a change to see yuji.
which is why your now currently on your stomach, handcuffed to yuji’s bed. you were tired and honestly didn’t care what he was gonna do at this point. you closed your eyes and waited for him.
he licks his lips and moves to your head. you feel his hand push your head to the side so you can look at him. he pushes the hair out of your hair and grabs a fist full. with his free hand he takes his dick and runs the tip over your lips. you open slightly and he slides in without hesitation. you hollow out your cheeks. he starts trusting slowly into your mouth. you only take in just below his tip but he lets out some low groans. you wanted to take more, so you move your head while he thrusted and the tip hit the back of your throat. he pulled out of your mouth and got on his knees.
he grabs your chin. “your my little toy, you don’t get to do things on your own,” you looks at him with innocent eyes. “your my slut and i’m gonna do everything i fantasize about when you were gone. so you just lay there and let me hear your pretty little moans”
you feel his large hand slide up your bare back leaving a trail of goosebumps. his fingers tangled themselves into you hair. he’s straddling your legs and slowly pumping himself as he massages your head, slightly tugging on your hair. his hand leaves your hair now messy hair to rub your back. he put pressure on the parts he knows are sore for from the pervious days.
after a few minutes of him massaging your back, yuji’s hand falls in between your tights. he runs his long finger through your folds. you inhale sharply at the sensation. he presses his thumb into your swollen clit causing you to moan out a little. he rubs small circles into your sensitive nub. you moan louder into the pillows. you feel your self getting wetter and some of the slick runs down onto his thumb. he pulls away even though you whine in protest, but soon he slips two of his fingers into your warm hole.
the slight gussy nosies instantly get him hard as a rock. he pull out his fingers and moves his tip to your entrance. one hand is firmly on your lower back while the other drags the tip through the slick. he slides his dick in at an incredibly slowly pace. you feel his girth stretch you out. you let out a high moan and try to relax. he lets out a low groan when he bottoms out. he feels you tightening around him. he grabs your ass and squeeze the soft flesh.
he starts moving out of you. he feels your pussy trying to suck him back in. he slowly goes back in. he keeps this slowly pace as his hands travel up and down your body. his grips your ass again but this time to move it out of the way. he wants to see his dick go in and out of your heat. you let out a few moans when he manages it hit the perfect spot.
he quickens his pace and his hands move to your hips. you swore his grip could have left bruises. you moan his name at the sudden change in pace. you look back over your shoulder to see him smiling as he watches his hips hit your butt. he’s face is slightly tinted pink as he enjoys who your ass slightly juggles with each thrust. he lets out a few low moans and every few thrusts he quickens his pace. you feel his dick throbbing and his thrusts are more sloppy but if you learn anything about yuji, it’s that his stamina is god level.
you close your eyes and listen to the lewd sounds of skin smacking skin, yuji’s moans and the hand cuffs slightly jingling to the rocking off the bed. yuji pulls almost all the way out then with all of his force slams back in. you could have swore he hit your cervix. you let out a scream like moan as he repeats that a few more times. when you thought he was about to cum, he slows down his pace and does a few more weak thrusts while massaging your lower back. he pulls out and spreads your folds apart and watches you twitch around nothing.
he grabs your hips and pulls them off the bed. your ass in the air and his tip is back in you. one of his hands his gripping your hip while the other is on the base of your neck. he start pounding into you. your mouth falls open and you can barely make a sound before he slamming himself back into you. when you do manage to make sound is a squeak. the hand on your hip let’s go and gives your ass a harsh smack. you squeeze your eyes shut as another one comes back down.
his trust become more sloppy and his moans are more frequent. you can feel his dick twitch in you when he slows down. he gives you are few more rough trusts. “You’re my cumdumpster. I’m gonna fill you up and then fuck you till you can’t walk,” with that he cums. he rides out his high, massaging your soft ass. he pulls out and twists you onto your side.
the handcuffs are pulling in your wrist. He moves your legs so one is crossed over the other. He pushes himself in. The euphoria hit you like a truck. when you were gone yuji looked up positions to hit every spot. You were looking through half lidded eyes and moaning with every thrust. You were putty for him to fuck. He kept thrusting impossible hard and somehow hitting your g spot everything single time. He starts moaning. He watches you tits bounce with everything thrust. His hands move from your hips to you nipples. He twists and pulls and massages the soft flesh. The squishing nosies from your slick and his cum only fueling his lust.
With one swift motion, he grabs your legs puts them on his shoulder. The handcuffs with digging into your skin with every thrust. This new angle allowed yuji to go deeper in you. He pounds you into the mattress. You moan out his name. You feel yourself coming close. The knot in you stomach forming and slowly coming undone with everyone of yuji’s new found expertise.
“Yuji~ im about to-“ you were cut off by your own organism. He stop instantly, not allowing you to ride out you high. You jolted around slightly. He looked down at you with a stare so terrifying and dangerous.
“Did I tell you can cum?” He asked. You nodded no. “use your words, slut,” he grabs your jaw.
“N-no sir,” you stumble out. He pushes you away. He drops your legs to his hips.
“Now I have to punish you,” he says as his eyes scan your body. “It the only right thing to do. I can’t have you thinking you can do whatever you want,” his thumb presses up against you clit. You hiss out. “Remember, your my toy,” he smiles and rubs small circles.
“Yuji~ no too much,” you whimper out.
“What was that, toy? more?” He only goes faster. He slowly starts thrusting while abusing your clit even more. His free hand moving to your throat. He lightly squeezed and your moans were silenced. Your mouth hung open as yuji’s pace quickened. His hand moved up to your jaw. “Keep it open, whore,” a long string of saliva dropped into your mouth. “Swallow it,” you did and opened to show him.
his thrust became so rough that it was starting to become painful. He keep his hand lightly around your neck. You were practically screaming while he just drilled you without mercy.
“Who do you belong to?” He asked through gritted teeth. When you didn’t answer he squeezed on you throat.
you choked out a “you, do.”
“I want everyone else to know, who uses you as a little fuck toy,” he released your throat and gripped onto your hips. His thumb goes faster as you reach your second climax.
“Yuji Yuji Yuji,” you scream out as you cum all over his dick.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” he trusts some more and comes inside of you. He falls on top of you. He’s panting and can barely keep his eyes open. You stare at his pink hair till you drift asleep.
When you wake up the next morning, the handcuffs left a nasty bruise, his hands left some on your neck, hips and thighs and you had a massive headache. Yuji was still asleep next to you. You leans over him and kissed his head.
“I missed you too,” you whisper. A smile creeps on his face. He springs open and pins you down. You wince at the pain shooting through your wrist. “Ouch, yuji, I’m sore from last night,”
“I don’t care, toy,” he kisses down your neck. You try to push him off but he licks your sweet spot. You moan and he smiles against your skin. He kisses the spot more and slowly turns to him biting and sucking on it.  He releases one of your hands, which makes its way straight to his hair. His hand starts playing with your hardened nipples. He rolls it in his fingers. You moan out his name and pull his hair.
He flips off of you and sits at the edge of the bed. When you didn’t follow and turned around. His hand gripped your jaw, a familiar feeling, “come on, cum slut,” he pulled you to him. He pushed you on the floor. you sat in between his legs. He was already hard. You brought the tip into your mouth. His large hand grabs your hair and pushes you deeper. You start choking. Your hands fly up to his thighs and start pushing away.
His free hand grabs your wrists.  “Stop it, your my little fuck toy, you better take this or else im not rewarding you,” you stop fighting as tears prick your eyes. He continues to thrust in and out of your mouth. Tears flowed down your cheeks. He trusts harder and grips your hair. You close your eyes as the tears keep falling. He grunts and his hot cum flows into your mouth.
“Swallow all of it,” he demands through a tightened jaw. You choking and push off of him. You cough and sniffle. He bends down to you and grabs your jaw. “You’re cute when you cry,” he wipes the tears. “Don’t waste any of this,” and his thumb swipes across your lip. “Open,” you do and he puts his thumb in your mouth. You suck on his thumb and he smiles. “Good girl,” he kisses your forehead and pulls his thumb out of your mouth.
You stand up and he pulls you onto his lap. You take his dick and line yourself up. You look at him. “You’re so beautiful,” he tucks some stray hairs behind your ear. You lean into his hand. His hand creases your jaw and holds your chin. He pulls you into a kiss and you sink onto his dick. He moans into the kiss and smiles. He flips you onto your back and breaks the kiss.
“You dirty girl,” he smiles and starts slowly keeping pace. You grab onto the sheets. You’re so sore from last night. His hand starts tracing over all the bruises and bite marks on your body. His eyes look like someone who’s admiring a piece of art work. He’s proud of his art. His thrusts pick up when you move your legs around waist. he smiles and grabs one of your thighs. He pulls it to your chest and goes absolutely feral. His trusts are painful, fast and deep. Your screaming his name.
Over all the screaming, moaning, bed creaking, and skin hitting skin, you hear someone pounding on the door. Yuji doesn’t stop. He starts rubbing your abused clit. You grip on the bed like your life depended on it.
“tell who’s ever on the other side the door, who’s fucking you this early in the morning,”  he says through his groans. You start crying out his name. The pounding on the door doesn’t stop. You start coming and your pussy clenching around him, makes yuji start coming.
“Yuji, fuck,” you yell as he fills you up. He quickly pulls out and throws on shorts. He opens the door and megumi’s dark hair and tired eyes stares into the room.
“Wanna join fushiguro?” Yuji chuckles.
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” He yells. “It was all night and now the fucking mornin,” he glares at yuji. “I hate you,” he walks back to his room. Yuji was about the close the door when he hurt megrim yell, “NO MORE PLEASE!! I”M TIDRED!!!”
Yuji turns around and smiles at you. “Oops,” he jumps on the bed. He lays on top of you. You play with his hair and he falls back asleep.
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slasherheadcanons · 4 years ago
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Im feeling angsty yk. So slashers watching their s/o die. Watching them die and how would life go on with out them. Extra points if somehow they come back to life perfectly normal and they are just like "hey lmao" ✨✨✨✨
Oooh! Gotta love angsty stuff. Here you go! Enjoy.
Warning: Slight gore?
•Slashers reacting to the S/o dying then later coming back•
Michael Myers: •When you died, whether it was because of something natural or someone killed you, Michael flew into a blind rage. His heart was hurting, and unable to handle this emotion, he acts violently. He destroys everything that gets in his way. After a long few weeks, he finally stops his killing spree. But he still isn't the same. He sits by himself in your house, staring at everything. He would never admit it, but he loved and cared for you. Now that you are gone, he feels like a part of him is missing. •After a long sleepless month for Michael, he finally brings himself to go outside. He lumbers down the sidewalk, getting lost in his thoughts. Until he heard his name being called. He turns to the person, ready to snap their neck. But he freezes when he sees you standing there with a smile on your face. You looked perfectly healthy and alive. He reaches out, touching your cheek, wondering if your real or just another illusion. When he feels your warm skin against his fingers, his shoulders start shaking a little as he tries to hold in his emotions. You hug him tightly, and he hugs you back.
Bubba Sawyer: •When you died, Bubba was overcome with grief. He howled and wailed in despair as he held your body close. He wailed for hours on end, refusing to let you go. No matter what his family tried to do, he wouldn't budge. He held you close and attempted to get you to open your eyes multiple times. He didn't want to believe that you were gone. But, when reality hits him that you aren't coming back, his heart shatters. He takes you out and finds a peaceful spot on the property to bury your body. Even after burying your body, Bubba is not the same. He is quiet and rarely even makes a sound. He struggles to chase down victims and can't bring himself to sleep in his bed where both of you snuggled up together. Dayton and the twins try to cheer him up, but nothing works •Then, one day, Bubba is out helping Dayton with fixing the car. He stands with the tools in his hand, staring blankly at the ground. His head lifts when he hears another car pull up to the property. He sighs softly, just thinking it another victim to chase down. But when he sees you get out of the car, he freezes. When you see him and smile, waving your hand, he looks at Dayton to see if he was seeing the same thing. Dayton is just as shocked as Bubba. "Bubba! I am back." You call out to him, and that's all it took for Bubba to realize you are alive. He races over to you, picking up in his arms and spinning you around, squealing with joy. He doesn't know how you came back, but he is thankful you did. The whole family celebrates your return.
Jason Voorhees: •The moment you stop breathing, Jason stands there frozen for just a moment before rushing to your side. He shakes you, trying to get you to open your eyes. Silently pleading for you to open your eyes. He continues to try and wake you for hours before he finally brings himself to realize you are not going to be opening your eyes. He pulls your body close to his chest. His shoulders shake as he cries silently, unable to cry out in anguish and grief. He lost his mother, and now you as well. He clings to you for a week at least before finally pushing himself to bury your body. He finds a beautiful and peaceful spot in the forest around the campgrounds and buries you there. After your death, he isn't the same. He either sits by your grave thinking about the times you had together or wanders around the campgrounds, lost in thought. He struggles to find the will to go kill intruders. He feels so lost and alone. •But one day, while he was wandering, he heard someone call his name. He looked around before finding you running towards him with a grin on your face. He freezes in place, shocked. When you stop in front of him, he reaches out to touch your face. Thinking you are just a ghost, he touches your face. His eyes widen as he feels the warmth of your smooth skin. He looks at you as you smile. "I am back, Jason." It was all you needed to say to him. He pulls you close hugging, you tightly to his chest, afraid that the moment he lets go, you will vanish.
Asa Emory (the collector): •When you pass away, Asa tries to pretend that it doesn't bother him. That he isn't affected by your death. But deep inside, he is suffering. He tries to cover the pain and grief he feels with anger. Acting even more violently towards those in his collection. He never speaks to anyone at the college and never lets anyone see his true emotions. He struggles to sleep at night. Every time he lays in his own bed, he is reminded of all the times you would kiss him goodnight or snuggle up to his chest, seeking to be held in his strong arms. He missed everything about you, your touch, your voice, your laughter. He missed you so badly. •One day, he returned home from the college, his eyes drooping slightly with exhaustion. He has barely been able to sleep since you took your last breath. He parked the car in the driveway, sighing loudly. He may have been sleep deprived, but he still picks up on the way the front door is slightly cracked open. He narrows his tired eyes, grabbing his knife from his pocket before slowly and cautiously making his way to the door. He listened closely as he reached the door, hearing some shuffling, he quickly ran in knife raised to face the intruder. But he quickly stops in his tracks, stunned at what he sees in front of him. You stand in front of smiling while holding a tray of freshly made cookies. His eyes are wide as he starts at you slowly, lowering the knife. "Y/n?" He quietly asked in disbelief, wondering if he has finally gone insane. You smile and nod. "I am back now, Asa, and I don't plan on leaving again anytime soon." You respond with a chuckle. He sets the knife down, going over to you. He has you set the tray down before pulling you into his arms, hugging you. "If you ever leave me again, I will find a way to punish you." He mumbles in your ear, trying to sound like he isn't tearing up with joy. You laugh and kiss his cheek. "I have no doubt you will, my dearest bug boy." You reply.
Jesse Cromeans (Chromeskull): •Most likely, you got killed by Preston. So when Jesse learned that you are dead, he is furious. Jesse is terrifying, to begin with, but when he is this pissed off, he is so much worse. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is going to stop him from gutting Preston and shoving them down his throat. He is going to hunt him down non-stop until he is dead. After Preston is gone, he returns to your body which, Spann took care of while he was away chasing Preston. He kicks everyone else out of the room so no one can see him cry. He is a strong man but losing you is just too much to bear. He lost his ex-wife, his child, and now he has lost you. If he could speak, he would be screaming out with grief. It takes him a while to finally agree to bury you. He makes sure you are buried in the most beautiful place and brings flowers to your grave every day. •Now, when you return, Spann is the one who found you while she was out looking for Jesse's next victim. She was shocked to see you. At first, she was thinking, you were just someone else who looked a lot like you, but when you recognized her, she realizes that it's actually you. She quickly rushes you back to Jesse. Jesse was sitting at his desk when Spann barged in. He sighs through his nose, looking up to see why she came in without knocking. But when he sees you come in after her, his jaw drops. He sits there in shock. You smile at him. "There is my handsome man." You say, at that moment he recognizes it's you. He stands and quickly goes over to you, pulling you close to his chest. He forgets all about finding another victim, now spending the rest of the day holding and spending time with you.
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hollyhomburg · 4 years ago
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(warning: overly dramatic) part of me wants to write like- a fucking messy story. like messy as in the m/c is involved with all of the boys kind of messy. like- maybe she was jungkook’s childhood love who he lost touch with when he went to become an idol. and then one day she moves to seoul thinking he’s forgotten about her and thinks “better not bother him- he’s famous afterall” and ends up starting her own life without him thinking that their paths will never cross again. 
she hooks up with seokjin on accident one night without knowing who he is. it’s against his better judgement but he can’t help the fact that sometimes he gets riled up in the way that only a good fuck can settle. a few days afterwords she realizes who he was and decides against contacting him or answering his text messages. ( though she does respond when he writes “i guess you’ve figured out who i am- and in that case- i have to ask you to agree to this” and she’s not an asshole- so she signs the non-disclosure agreement which she sends back to him without comment). 
only a few days later she runs into jimin- or more correctly jimin runs into her getting harassed late at night by a few drunk men. he pretends to be her boyfriend. He’s wearing a mask and a bucket hat and glasses- and despite his height jimin is commanding enough to get them to back off. he ends up walking her home “how do i know you're not trying to walk me home so you can find out where i live?” 
“you’re new here right? dont you know how many cameras there are in seoul” 
“there aren't any cameras on my street” and so jimin sighs, pulls down his mask and turns to a billboard of his face (this one for vt cosmetics sitting outside a closed olive young). imitating his pose for a second before he can see understanding dawn on her face. “see? you really think im going to do something like that?” it’s not every day he lets himself be seen like this- but he has a feeling that for you it’s worth it. but it doesn't get near the reaction that he wanted. 
you curse low, crossing your arms over your chest.  “how the fuck is there another one” and though jimin responds with a ‘what?’ you dont answer. you keep walking, kicking a stone hard enough to hit the billboard. and jimin has to admit this is the first time he’s ever felt lacking in front of a woman. it’s electric and he can’t say he’s not drawn in. 
he walks you home- does not kiss the strange woman who he just met on the cheek even though you’re looking sleepy and soft and vulnerable. jimin is a gentleman. 
it’s not until weeks later that she actually does end up running into jungkook- and she’s shocked to find that their friendship and the pure chemistry they have is still there. they meet up for coffee after coffee and then- she meets the boys, and both seokjin and jimin just try to reign in their over imaginative hearts (and maybe their boners- maybe her and seokjin meet up in some forgotten corner of the company for a repeat meeting- during which seokjin confesses she’s the best fuck he’s ever had). 
everyone can feel the tension between you and jimin. and jimin is the first to confess that yeah- they did meet a few weeks back. and you both pretend you’re not blushing when hoseok teases “wahhhhh thats like a drama” jungkook stoic faced besides her. tugging on her earing and whining to leave. he wants her all to himself- not hat he’d ever admit that. and jungkook- jungkook wishes his heart didn't hurt the same way it had 10 years ago- wishes his schoolboy crush could have just stayed that. 
what's worse- is that Taehyung and yoongi have taken an immediate romantic interest in her. kind of having more of an adversarial situation where they both keep trying to one up the other. Yoongi takes her out on a boat to watch the sunrise in the middle of the ocean, doesn't care about holding her hand in front of the others. yoongi is so sweet and kind; cooks her dinner when she shows up at his house crying for whatever reason (it was jungkook- it’s always jungkook) and when she’s done he kisses the curry he made off of her lips and hands her a water saying playfully. “if you dont drink enough water you’ll run out of tears.” 
“Are you planning to make me cry min yoongi?”
“Only out of happiness hopefully.” 
and taehyung takes her to an amusement park in the middle of the night, so that it’s just them and a few people who follow to run the rides for them. he lets her take cute couple photos and always offers up his oversized jackets for her when she gets cold after riding a wet ride. and maybe she catches him staring at her translucent dress. lets him pull her into a corner of the amusement park and fuck her where anyone could hear or see. “are you sure yoongi could fuck you this good? or seokjin for that matter? don’t think i havent noticed the way he looks at you.” 
and jungkook- jungkook can’t say anything- because he always puts the others first. and namjoon- oh namjoon and you have an incredibly intellectual relationship. Staying up after you’ve all drank yourselves nearly to sleep, jimin curling up on the carpeted floor near you saying “dont walk home alone- wake me before you go and I’ll walk you.” jimin is always saying things like that to you. and getting all protective whenever one of their backup dancers or any other man at the company shows interest in her. 
you and namjoon talk about everything that night- philosophy- love- life- it comes so easy for you to talk with him. and when that night he confesses that he’s never fallen asleep in someone's arms you pat your shoulder and let him lie near you on the wide couch. your hand smoothing up and down his back. and when you wake up in the morning before everyone elce you pretend he hadn’t migrated near you enough that his cheek was up against your chest- and he pretends he doesn't want to record your heart beat and put it into a song so that he can have it to lul him to sleep always. meet up once every few weeks to go on walks together because you both share a love for nature. trips to gardens and parks that feel more like dates than anything.  
and hobi- hobi sees it all happening and tries to stay out of it. rationalizes it that there has to be someone to stay impartial and professional. but you end up becoming friends against his better judgement. you do your work in his studio because you like how he’s always playing music even if he’s not working on one of his own songs, and even then you have headphone and jhope watches you sway and bob your head to whatever you’re listening too. very few people have a sense for beat like you both do- and though you can’t dance- he can see the potential in it. he offers to teach you and you agree and of course you end up fucking in the practice room because hoseok just needed to show her how to move her hips right. 
only- yoongi hears the noises from the studio and goes to investigate, and he’d love it if he wasn’t hurt but he is. So he ignores her for a little while- because he wants to move on- he’s tired of being hurt by her. and then when she confronts him- somehow everyones there and jungkook misspeaks- says some pretty terrible shit that he immediately regrets and when she runs out of course jimn follows her. “jimin just leave” 
“no- not until i know you’re safe” she sighs but then gets angrier when he grabs her hand. 
“no- don’t- don’t do that”
 “do what?”
 “hold my hand unless you have any desire to keep me- to actually love me- then you don’t get to hold my hand” and they walk- jimin grabs her hand and she just sighs- so tired of being pulled 7 different directions. thinks jimin is just interested in sleeping with her- but he’s not- he just wants to love her. 
things get even worse when she and yoongi makeup- decide to try and stay friends, and then jungkook confesses to her and turns the whole thing upside down and someone sees her and namjoon out walking, his arm around her shoulders and suddenly dating rumors are floating around everywhere. and fuck- they’re all fighting. jungkook grabbing her arm “she was my friend first” 
“yeah but i was the one who was romantically interested in her” 
“guess again” 
“that doesn't count seokjin hyung- you guys just slept together that's not love” and before any of them have a chance to settle it out she speaks above all of them (maybe picking up a glass and dropping it to get them all to pay attention to her. “maybe if you stoped and wondered what it was that i wanted you all wouldn’t be pricks right now” and then she just- walks out. dodges their calls- ignores every message. until namjoon turns up at her door and asks her to come see them. everyone nervous before jungkook swallows. looking at her with shining eyes, the face of her first love. “we’ve decided, if you’re okay with it, then we think we can share.” 
(PSA; this fic idea is not free to use!)
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