#pock-galliard
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jeanbie · 2 years ago
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i loved ur modern porco teen hcs !! can you please do a part 2?
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MODERN! PORCO HEADCANONS #2 ★ masterlist.
⏤ some more pock headcanons for you ^^ think i'm running out of teenage headcanons, maybe next time i'll graduate him to uni level :P enjoy anyway! thank u for sending me this!! part one here!
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porco really likes junji ito artwork and for christmas, annie didn’t know what to get him so she got him an art collection book of his stuff which kinda set him off
he really likes sci-fi books
constantly changes his music taste but he never downloads any music nor does he have any playlists - he just listens to whatever the day gives him through pre-made playlists and radios
he started liking his lifeguard job significantly more when he got promoted from baby pool duty to adult free swim (hot chicks)
but i think porco actually really likes kids, he likes how honest they are and how much fun they have with anything they have
he’s quite easily led by what he hears and reads online so eventually he made the commitment to just erase majority of his social medias - all he uses now are instagram, snapchat, bereal and he cut down on his reddit usage (congrats pock)
he hates reading the news
he’s still kinda pursuing design engineering (uni is just around the corner) but he’s still got that interest in aviation - he thinks he might look into aviation engineering or aerospace engineering or something like that
he can still handle his drinking quite well - zeke is older and says that’ll come in handy when pock goes to uni
he always picks the skin around his fingers when he feels anxious, which seems to be a lot these days
and he gets nervous rashes over his chest sometimes
he likes rock climbing and bouldering in his spare time, and took it up with reiner when he confessed he didn’t really wanna do it alone
he’s more of a dog person than a cat person and is that guy who always wants to sit with the dog at the party or wants to stroke the dog that’s walking across the road
thinks that burger king is better than kfc and will die on that hill (and he’s dying there alone)
always wishes he had a younger brother like zeke and eren
he loves eren a lot and likes to indulge in eren’s interests sometimes to try and imagine what it could have been like if his mom had pushed out a third one after porco
really wants tattoos but he gets bored of things too quickly and he thinks he’ll end up hating all of them
only types with two fingers on a keyboard (he’s so me)
likes jazzy, soul ballads 
one time, he thought he had a crush on pieck, and they danced together at prom and they discovered that porco is a pretty good dancer
wants his hair to look like john wick some day
he’s afraid of mice and rodents
wants to travel outside of his hometown for uni but is always afraid that one day he might not be close with his friends back home anymore and that makes him really sad
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quiveringdeer · 2 years ago
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gloriousporcodenial · 2 years ago
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Life is a Spiderweb (6)
Author's note : I did take a lot of time for this, I still think it's a bit sloppy but there it is ! Good luck with the angst ! Also if you notice any mistake, you can tell me in the comments !
Chapter 3 : But we're just soldiers
You took a sharp breath, and crossed your arms over your chest, but you did your best to remain calm. You didn't want things to escalate into an argument with Porco again, you knew you had to control your annoyance.
"You did ask me to stay away, but your behavior has been quite odd, Porco Galliard. Can you explain this to me then ?"
"What ? I owe you no explanations on what I do, mind yourself !" Porco growled. You sudenly began to think that you had made it all up, that maybe it had all been coincidences. But there was still a chance, a slim chance, that it wasn't the case. You straighted a bit, gaining a more confidance stance, and looking straight into his threatening glare, you replied with all the conviction you could mimic as you pushed away your doubts.
"Is that so ? Because wherever I look, you're there, staring at me from afar or walking almost at arm's reach. I've been avoiding you, I kept my promess, but now you're the one that won't leave me be. Even if you don't talk to me, you're always in my sight."
You could see as you spoke that the blonde man's anger slipped away, replaced by a new emotion that you never saw on his face. His frown relaxed, his lips lightly parting as his grey irises broke eye contact with you for half a second, before locking with them again, filled with what resembled confusion.
"So tell me what you really want, Porco, because your attitude since I obeyed your demand has not been matching your words." You added.
And this time, he remained speechless. You held back a victorious grin, happy to see that the answer wasn't as easy for him as you had feared. Your guts were right, you were glad that you had managed to pull out this small bluff, because in the end, he really had been acting odd. You weren't imagining things. But as seconds passed, you realised that his confusion was slowly growing into something bigger. He remained silent, but you could see his thoughts rushing in his eyes that kept jumping from you to an invisible spot somewhere. You could hear his breath, usually slow and almost inaudible, becoming more sharp and rapid. You didn't want him to panick, he was probably overthinking this now.
"Don't worry, I'm not angry about it."
He focused on you again, looking worried, and you gave him your warmest smile. But in return, you only saw his face twist in affliction.
"I can't do this..." he whispered. The distress in his voice broke your heart. Of every reactions he could have had, this one was the most unexpected.
"Porco ?" You asked, taking a step toward him. He looked away from you.
"We're... We're just soldiers. Anyone might die anytime once we'll be out there."
You heard him take a deep breath, before he turned his face toward yours again. There was something in his eyes that made you incredibly sad. Something that looked like despair. You suddenly wanted to take him in your arms, to shield him from whatever was hurting him.
"You asked me what I want... I'd love to talk to all of you. I want to make friends, to create bonds. You really seem like a very sweet person... We would certainly get along well..."
He had leaned toward you as he spoke, and suddenly, you noticed he was very close. All your confidence from earlier had melted beneath the softness of his gaze, captivated by his voice. It was the first time you really noticed how beautiful he sounded when he spoke, but maybe it was only because for the first time, he was speaking with gentleness to you. You felt your cheeks heating up, why were you so shy now ? Was it the slight longing in his eyes?
"But I can't. I can't get close to anyone here. I'm not strong enough to loose someone."
You caught a glimpse of his hand near your face as he moved back. Had he been trying to caress your cheek ? You caught yourself wishing he had.
"Is that it then ?" You asked.
Porco noded slightly. You had bursted his shell open, and he had suddenly poured into you a truth so deep that you had almost felt the world rumble around you. A fear, so heavily human that it resonated into you.
Of course, soldiers were meant to die young. You knew your life would be short when you joigned the training scouts. You had not really been thinking about the grieving, but maybe you were used to see those around you die, of hunger, cold or disease. Poverty was as merciless as the titans, then again, Death wears many masks. But in the end, it's always the same, isn't it ?
"You're so stupid !"
He turned around suddenly, frowning again, only to meet your soft smile.
"Love is priceless. I want to cry every time one of our comrades die. I want to feel the tearing pain every single time. Grieving is deeply human. I want to cry, then get back on my feet with the memory of them and their love, tears rolling on my cheeks as I slay my way through titans. What are we fighting for if it isn't for love ? Family, friends, comrades, lovers... That's what makes us alive. I want to die crying because I'll miss everyone. I want to love you all, because love is what makes life worthy. And I'll accept every single tear that I have to shed. I'll have a short life, but I will live it more intensly then anyone could imagine."
Porco looked at you, silently. You couldn't tell what was going on in his mind.
"You're right. Everything comes with a price..."
His gaze was incredibly sad as he looked in the distance, lost in his thoughts.
"I can't just go to war and expect to leave it untouched. Every soldier has a fight to die in, even if they return I guess..."
This statement that was barely an audible mumble remained with you. You didn't uderstand it fully, you were certain of that. But Porco never elaborated. After that conversation, he had apologize for his behavior. You were glad to be right, he had been intentionally pushing others away.
But not anymore.
The next morning, as you were having breakfast with Marco, Jean, Connie and Sasha, instead of heading toward his brother, Porco stopped by you.
"May I ?" He asked, motioning toward the empty spot on your right.
"Sure !"
He took place next to you, to your greatest joy. You glanced at him discreetly during the meal, noting small details about him. His jaw looked strong while he chewed, it made him look quite manly and rough in a way, but his upward nose softned his features. He listened to everyone, looking at them with a stern expression, but his grey eyes had something tender. You realised that you were smiling always a little more whenever his gaze would focus on you. But his face seemed to relax whenever he did as well.
He did not speak more with others, but he remained closer then usual, listening to everyone, to who they were. His face softened, and after a few days, he smiled gently from time to time. You were happy to see this change in him.
"Soooo, what's going on with Porco ?" Sasha asked you with a mewing voice.
"Mh, Porco ? I guess he's finally opening up." You said, before noticing her amused smile.
"What ?"
"There's something between you two, right ?" asked Krista.
"What ? No ! Why would you say that ?"
She and Sasha giggled before your confusion.
"You're really that oblivious ?" said Ymir with a mocking grin.
The four of your were working out together this morning. Everyone had been dispatched in small groups and you were far enough from others to be able to talk without beeing heard.
"Oblivious of what ?"
You were slightly annoyed to see them all giggle again, exchanging accomplices looks.
"Come on, what's the deal ?" you pouted.
"Oh... So you're not aware..." Ymir stated.
"Well... It seems that Porco has a little crush on you. We thought that you could tell us more about it..." Krista explained. You looked at her, dumbfounded.
"Everyone kind of noticed that." Ymir added.
"Why would you all think that ? "
You were confused. Porco had been more friendly with everyone for a while now, but you didn't thought that there were any signs of this kind to notice. Although, you didn't really dislike the idea. You wondered if you had been caught staring at him a bit too much as well.
"Well... He always smiles when he looks your way. And not like those little smiles he does to everyone, when it's you it's different !" Sasha explained excitedly.
"He looks happier when it's you !"
"During training too, he's always looking at you." Ymir added.
"You're exaggerating..." You said.
"Mh, look around then."
You quickly glanced behind. You had seen Porco with Marcel, Reiner and Berthold, so you quickly found their group, and were surprised to see that Ymir was right.
"That doesn't mean anything ! Bring proof to the table !" you claimed, smiling maybe a bit to wide.
"It's just the addition of all these small details that gives him away. Keep an eye open for these clues and you'll see it too !"
That evening left you sleepless. Your thoughts were all turned toward Porco. The most unsettling was to acknowledge that you were hoping that they were right. You liked how he smiled at you now, you liked that he sat next to you to eat. You couldn't deny that he was very handsome, and you always felt your breath more heavy when your eyes would meet. Just thinking about him made your face heat up a bit, and you decided to go get some fresh air.
Outside, everything was calm. The cold wind made you shiver, but at least your cheeks were cooling down.
"Can't sleep either ?"
You were startled to hear him behind you, and jolted up. Porco chuckled lightly.
"So, what's keeping you up ?" he asked, catching you off guard.
"Ah ! I'm, er... Too hot." You stuttered, blushing.
"Indeed." he whispered.
"And you ?"
He looked at you, smiling sadly.
"I guess I shouldn't think too much like that. But our training is almost over now."
You remembered the conversation you had with him many weeks ago. Soon, you will all be soldiers, and the countdown to your death would begin.
"Are you scared?"
He nodded silently. A lot seemed to be going on inside his mind, but his lips remained shut. You looked at the night sky, hidden by thick clouds. You shivered as another gush of wind tossed your hair around your head.
"You're cold."
You turned toward Porco again. His eyes were softly looking at you, his hair partially undone. He took off the jacket he was wearing over his pyjama to cover you.
"Not very smart to go outside without anything warm." He smiled gently, and for a moment, you just looked at him. You were lost in his eyes, reading him. There was sadness inside of them, a bit of fear. A few emotions you couldn't name, and an immense softness that filled you with warmth. You lost track of time, mezmerized by that light in the grey irises, that neverdying blaze that reached for you desperately. You felt as if an invisible force was pulling you toward him, an inevitable attraction. Slowly, his face came closer, but you couldn't tell if he was the one leaning or if you had moved toward him.
You felt his warm fingers brushing your cold cheek. You closed your eyes, focused on the rough skin of his fingertips tracing their way toward your ear, entertwining with your hair.
And swiftly, his had pulled away, and you opened your eyes only to catch a glimpse of his face turning away as he went for the door.
"We should go back to sleep. It's cold."
He left quickly, but you remained frozen. You only caught a glimpse of it, but a small drop had traced it's way on his cheek. And his voice was tight when he left.
Maybe your friends were right. Maybe he liked you. And maybe he was afraid to lose you.
Days flew by, and even if Porco was getting along with everyone, you couldn't help but notice a certain sadness in him. And it kept growing.
The ceremony arrived. You could finally make your choice. You were glad to see that all of your friends had joigned the survey corp as well. Even Porco.
"So excited for tomorrow ! It's going to be our first day as soldiers !"
"Can't wait to be away from Sadies !"
"I hope we'll go outside the walls soon !" You added excitedly. Marco laughed.
"Ah, Y/n is still eager to taste the freedom outside the walls !"
"Who isn't?" Eren asked, smiling widely.
You noticed as everyone cheered that Porco remained away. You knew his concerns, and walked toward him, even if you didn't really know what to tell him to brush away his worries.
"It's fine, we're not going out just yet." You smiled.
"I know.... I know..." he whispered, but his eyes were tormented and his hands shaking. You tried to soothe him, but he barely listened to you. After speaking alone for a few minutes, you remained silent, and gently took his hand in yours. He didn't react when you did, so you stayed there, drawing circles on his skin.
"I need to go." He snapped after a while, and hastily left the room, leaving you concerned.
You didn't see him again in the evening, nor the next morning. You were worried as you put on your gear. Finally, as you left for your first mission, he arrived, all set up, but his face was emotionless. He didn't say a word to anyone, not even you.
You were sad as you walked outside, your heart heavy. The old and cold version of the blonde man was back. You activated your left trigger to climb a roof, and began moving around in the air. But when you tried to use the right side of your equipment, it didn't work, and you crashed toward the ground, a scream leaving your lips as you felt your blood drained from your face. Pain rushed in your leg as you hit the dusty pavements, and you were quickly taken to the infirmary of the barracks.
Your ankle was only sprained, but you were going to need some recovery time. You were frustrated, longing to leave the walls, but you knew that it was only a matter of time. You couldn't understand why your gear had betrayed you like this, they had been thouroughly checked the day before. As time passed, your boredom grew, you couldn't wait for your friends to return and tell you about their first day. You also wanted to talk with Porco, he was probably very nervous in the morning, and would be very concerned to hear about your injury.
But that day, nothing was meant to go right. You heard the news, and your heart stopped.
The colossal titan had attacked again.
You never had a day filled with as much anxiety as today. You couldn't go there. You just had to wait and hear who had died. All your friends were on the first line and you couldn't help them.
Even Porco.
Suddenly, you regretted not going to him in the morning, to talk to him. Suddenly, you regretted every opportunity you had to spend time with him, because now might just be too late. You understood why he had been so cold and distant, so scared to get attached to anyone. You knew that if Porco died today, you were going to drown in remorse. Because you had let yourself fall a little too hard for him, forgetting that he was going to live a short life as well. Maybe shorter then yours.
So when he arrived, alive and well in the evening, you bursted out in tears, limping out of your bed to grab him by the neck and hug him tightly. You cried in his arms, relieved that he was alive. He held you close against him, not letting go. Once you calmed down, you finally realised that he was shaking uncontrollably against you, his fingers digging in your back, sobbing with his head buried in your shoulder.
"Porco ?" You called, trying to wipe out your own tears with one hand. "What happenned... Please, answer !"
His voice was muffled by your shirt, and you had to push him away firmly before he finally released his grip on you. His eyes were wide in horror as he looked at you, tears pouring out from his eyes as he quivered.
"Porco, please, tell me what's wrong!" you pleaded, terrifyed. You thought about Marcel, praying for his brother to be still alive.
"It's Marco..." he moaned between his sobs, before putting his hand over his mouth to supress his wails, unsuccesfully. You felt your own eyes watering again.
"What is it?" You pressed him. His legs gave in as he slid on the floor, to your feet. You crouched in front of him, cupping his face with your hand, gently. "Please, tell me, Porco..."
You already knew what he was about to say. You realised why he had said that he wasn't strong enough to loose anybody. He was tearing up just in front of you.
"He's dead..." he answered, before breaking down and crying, his whole figure shaking. You were crying too. You knew it was part of the life you had chosen. You knew that it was going to be like this until you die too. But the pain was immense. And yet... You were relieved that it wasn't him.
You managed to calm down after a while as you noticed that your friend's state seemed to be worsening. You were now concerned with Porco, was he too sensitive for this life ? He was almost choking, barely able to take his breath between sobs and cries. His voice was broken from his despaired weeps, infiltrated by sheer horror that made you shiver. The more you paid attention to him, the more you were frightened. What had he seen to be in such perdition?
"Porco... What happenned ? Look at me, please !"
The fear in your voice must have reached him, because he obeyed, trying to regain control over himself, in vain. His eyes were haunted, guilty, drowned in absolute distress.
"I don't know what to do..." he moaned, overwhelmed. You were desperate to find a way to help him cope with all of these emotions. You plunged your eyes into his, trying to figure out what to do. You could read the struggle he was going through, to talk or to remain silent. There was something from today that he needed to say, but was afraid to let out. Something that made you shiver. You were torn between your curiosity and fear. Did you want to hear it ? From the look in his eyes, you had a feeling that it would completely disrupt something. It was going to scar you. And as much as he seemed needy to tell you, Porco looked terrifyed to speak. He was desperate, lost. You were as well.
What had he seen ?
> A : You console him, without digging further. (12) > B : You make him talk, you need to know, regardless of the consequences. (13)
Previous chapter (3) : Chapter 2 : Contradictions
Taglist :
@missmajdastark; @maisurii;
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dressycobra7 · 15 days ago
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@brave-and-gentle @wintrrxxo @sundew199 @reinersluvrr @shat-on-the-dick
Contact Names .ᐟ
ʚɞ: levi, eren, armin, jean, porco, reiner, erwin
note: you ask them what your contact name is on their phone !
warnings: cursing, suggestive, crack, kys joke in porco’s, f!reader
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I BLOCK MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS
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seeingivy · 1 year ago
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how to fight 
roommate eren x f!reader 
battleships sink beneath the waste (of you and eren)
**read the mini series masterlist here 
content warning: baby (LOL), porco + pieck softness, porco x y/n family feud, someone calls hitch a snitch, fight between u and eren :( 
an: sorry for da holdup. I was trying to map out how I want the rest of the things to go before I write the rest of the chapters but I think i’ve got most of it down. fun things in store :D and for the anons who are requesting scenes and dialogue for this story in the ask box....all in good time you guys. im taking very detailed notes keep it coming. 
previous part linked here
You lean over, pressing your fingers against the side of Ethan’s cheek, his breath ghosting against your hand. You swear he gets bigger every time you see him, his tiny hands huge compared to when you saw him last. Therapy is expensive, your best friend's newborn baby is free. 
Porco’s big eyes, Pieck’s soft nose - the perfect mix of the two people you love the most. Something about him - his life being confined to Porco, Pieck, and occasionally you and Gabi- was soothing. He doesn’t have to worry about these things - about your friends ditching you, having a crush on your roommate, who is dating a girl you can’t help but hate. 
You hear Ethan’s breathing hitch in his sleep, the thought leaving your mind, as he turns over on his side to face you. His fingers are clutched around yours, his hold soft. You silently wonder what else he’ll inherit from them. Pieck’s smile, Porco’s ashy blonde hair, the distinct Galliard dimples. 
“Why are you staring at my kid like that?” 
You turn to find Porco glaring at you, his permanent ever annoyed look pressed on his face. He’s going to get wrinkles by the time he’s thirty. 
“Praying he doesn’t get your receding hairline, Galliard.” you whisper, your hand moving back to Ethan’s little tuft of hair. 
“I get you’re having some whole crisis thing but do you have to take it out on me? You’re freeloading in my house right now.”
At the sound of Porco’s voice, significantly louder than your quiet whispers, Ethan eyes immediately flutter open, his tiny little cries filling up the space of the room. 
“Good job, Pock. Now he’s crying.” 
“Shut up.” 
Porco rolls his eyes at you, reaching to take Ethan from the crib. He’s lifted him up, whispering soft coos into his ears as Pieck rushes in the room, her fingers swiping the tears off of Ethan’s cheeks. Sparkling black hair, soft smile - the same as when you met her. 
After a few minutes, Ethan calms down, his tiny little eyes fluttering back to sleep. You take him from Porco, who begrudgingly hands him over, and set him back down in his crib. You linger for a few seconds, your face pressed against his crib as you watch his listen to his breaths, his tiny chest moving up and down with each one. You only move when you’re forced to - by Pieck linking her arm with yours, leading you downstairs. 
“Who woke him up?” 
“Twerp.” 
“Pock.” 
You both turn to glare at each other, as Pieck hands you the plates to set at the table. You and Porco move around each other, shoving each other each time you pass by.  
“He’s trying to kick me out. After I so graciously dropped everything to come spend time with you guys. Babysat your kid for free.” 
“He’s your godson. You should have come sooner. And stop using my kid to run away from your problems, Y/N.” 
Three days ago, Eren told you that he thought the two of you were a mistake. That he was dating the girl who in all senses of the word was everything you weren’t and he had been. Off and on, for a while. Screw you for wanting to get away from that, be surrounded by two people who actually wanted you around.
You couldn’t face Eren. You couldn’t handle him making you breakfast in the morning, listening to the music you liked, brushing his hand against yours when he walked past you. So you decided you weren’t going to. Not until you had to. 
So you picked up your keys and drove two hours to Marley, to visit Porco and Pieck. And their five month old son, Ethan. Your godson. 
“Leave her alone, Porco.” 
Pieck squeezes your shoulder as the three of you settle into the table to eat. You can feel the tears rising to your eyes, the thought of returning and leaving the little bubble you were in for the past few days, to find Hitch and Eren in your apartment. 
“I just wanted to see you guys. You always made me feel better. Ethan too.” 
You look up to find Porco looking at you, his expression uncharacteristically soft. Somehow his annoyed face is better than this. 
“Hey. Want me to beat him up, twerp?” 
“You can’t hit a girl, Porco.”
“Clean out your earwax. I meant your roommate, but I can get Snitch if you want too. Pieck’s got real bony knuckles, I’m sure it would hurt.” 
“It’s Hitch, honey.” 
“Same thing. Who names their kid a verb?” 
“Pock, a lot of names are verbs. Like Bob or Sue.” 
“Being a smartass isn’t a good look on you babe.” 
You press the back of your hands against your cheek, wiping your tears off, as you laugh at Pieck and Porco’s bantering. You don’t miss the way Porco tangles his hand into hers, Porco raising Pieck’s hand to press a kiss to it to shut her up. You remember the first time he did it, on that stupid bench you met them on years ago. 
Pieck moved into the house across from you, when you were in the third grade. She was four years your senior, a very cool seventh grader. You distinctly remember her marching over to your yard, big black combat boots, right to where you were playing with Gabi. 
You saw her the next day at school, her ankles tangled over each other as she sat alone on the bench outside your classroom. Alone. You walked over, pushing yourself into the seat next to hers.
“Hi Pieck.” 
“Hey kid. Enjoying recess?” 
You nodded, playing with the ends of your hair as she looked down at you. Some part of her was always intimidating. Like she was ice cold. But the way she smiled was soft, the lines by her eyes spreading when she did. Contradicting, in every sense of the matter. 
“Yeah. Did you make any friends yet?” 
“Just one. His name’s Porco.” 
“Don’t you want more?” 
“Not really. He’s all I need. Him and you, of course.” 
You remember your heart swelling in your chest - the thought of a seventh grader, big and mighty, wanting to be friends with you. The two of you sat in silence, swinging the ends of your legs on the bench. 
You had always appreciated that about Pieck, even at eight years old - that the two of you could sit in the quiet, without having to say anything. Porco idled by a few minutes later, taking the seat directly next to Pieck. 
“Who’s the twerp?” 
“My friend, Porco. This is Y/N.” 
He nods, wordlessly splitting the peanut butter and jelly sandwich he had in half and handing one piece of it to Pieck. You never understood it, the gesture. Or when they started dating. You just remember one day, their hands were pressed together on the bench. They never let go after that. 
You’ve tried to make sense of it. At their wedding, right before Pieck walked down the aisle, you turned to Porco and asked him why he gave her half of his sandwich, sat with her on the bench, pressed his hand against hers. You figured he’d say something cheesy you can tell his ugly kids. 
“I just felt like I knew her forever. I saw her on the field, staring at the sky, and just wanted to be near her.” 
You still didn’t understand, but you nodded, turning your head back down the aisle that Pieck was going to walk down in a few seconds. 
“Don’t settle till you find that guy.” 
“Which one, Pock?” 
“The one who knows the second he meets you.” 
“You’re corny. I hope your vows are better than this.” 
And they were. You feel Pieck reach over the table, crushing your knuckles in her hand. You look up at the two of them, at the soft little life they live. Sweet tea in the summer, hands pressed together, no other people involved. Except for you, of course. 
“I’ll leave after dinner, guys. I should go back anyway. But I might come back the second I see him.” 
“I’ll leave the door open, kid.” 
“Thanks Pock.” 
You feel the tears welling up in your eyes, again, this time falling down your cheeks. The two of them get up from their chairs, their arms around yours.  You squeeze their arms, focusing on this sensation as you brace yourself for your return home. 
Therapy’s expensive, but violent threats and your best friends are free. 
You jam your door into the key, making it back to Shiganshina a little close to midnight. You thank your stars for Eren’s soccer practices being early in the morning, which virtually guarantees he’ll already be fast asleep in his room. 
You swing the door open, flicking on the hallway light as you silently move around. You find that the apartment is slightly messier than usual, Eren’s things strewn all across the room. You leave for three days and he thinks he owns the place. 
As you move to put the dirty dishes in the sink, you hear Eren’s door swing open immediately, cursing yourself for choosing the loudest chore to complete. You should have just put his hoodies in the laundry or something. 
“Y/N?” 
His voice is hoarse, like he’s struggling to get the words out. You look up and find him inches away from you, his arms pressed into the chair. His green eyes are marked by a rim of pink, his shoulders slumped over. 
“Hey Eren.” 
He leans over, pressing his forehead against your shoulder and squeezing. His eyes are still half closed, blinking the sleep out of his eyes. You can smell his minty soap wafting off of him and lean back against the counter to distance yourself from it. 
“Am I imagining you or are you really here?” 
“Really here, Eren.” 
You feel his hands tense on your shoulders, his fingers lightly pushing into your skin. 
“I haven’t seen you in three days.” 
“I went to see Porco and Pieck for the weekend.” 
“It’s Tuesday. You could have at least let me know before you left.” 
You hum in acknowledgement, still rinsing the dishes in the sink. You try to focus on the sensation, the warm water splashing against your wrists and the cold plates against your hands. You try to ignore his words, each one leaving stinging, burning, agony in your chest. You’d run back to Porco and Pieck’s now if he wasn’t standing right there. Even the smell of him is petrifying. 
You feel him forehead get heavier on your shoulder, pushing farther into you. 
“I was worried about you.” 
Screw him. Screw him, his stupid words, his sweet smell, and his sad little face for making you feel this way. For wanting to reach forward and press yourself against him till he felt better. For him to wrap his arms around you, press featherlike kisses to your cheeks until you felt better too. You shrug him off, the movement making him stand up straight. 
“Sorry Eren.” 
“It’s okay. You wake up Porco and Pieck with your morning concert while you were there?” 
You clench the plate pressed in your hands so hard it shatters, the glass spreading across the length sink. 
“Screw you, Eren.”
“What?” 
“I’m so sick of you making fun of me all the time. If something I do annoys you, you should just tell me instead of making passive aggressive comments.” 
You watch the confusion spread across his face, as he leans over to take your hands out of your sink, where the shards were still lying against the drain. You pull your hands back, pressing them into your sides as you can feel your searing growing in your chest - in anger, irritation, hurt.
“Hey, what happened? You could never annoy me, peaches. I was just teasing you.” 
You shake your head, pressing the heels of your hands against your eyes. No. You were not going to cry in front of him. 
“Hey, hey. Talk to me. What happened?”
“You happened. I’m not something for you to laugh at Eren. I have feelings too, you know?” 
You push past him, swiping your things off the counter, and slamming your door shut behind you. You feel bad about it, leaving him there when he was just trying to comfort you. But that’s just the thing. The hand that burned you can’t make it better, can it?
next part linked here
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mulberrysilk · 2 years ago
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Illicit Affairs | Z. Yeager
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Zeke Yeager x f!reader
summary: an unspoken love hidden from others. An involvement with the Zeke Yeager was akin to a sweet dream. It was reckless and was bound to be tragic with what the Wonder Boy’s ambition will bring. Yet, every time, none dared to speak the three words that might change everything or nothing.
cw: canonverse. unprotected sex, hinted corruption kink, secret relationship. creampie, possessive Zeke Yeager, kinda angsty? praise, zeke calls reader good girl. Zeke is only soft to reader, okay i guess this fic is lowkey sweet but more so bittersweet
wc : 5.3k
a/n : it has been very long while and I'm mid away S4 part 2 of AOT but am now watching Bleach just cause. So here is a Zeke fic that's been sitting in my drafts for a long time with a lot of other drafts. I will also start posting some fics when I make an ao3 acc! Again, I'm sorry for being gone for a long time but I'll try to write more because I do miss it and I miss interacting with everyone here too.
Special thanks to @iwaasfairy for beta-reading this! ♥︎
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That’s thing about illicit affairs  and clandestine meetings and longing stares
It’s born from just one single glance but it dies and it dies, and it dies
A million little times
“How about you?” The ravenette nodded at your direction, a gentle yet playful smile adorning her face. The sleepy and calm look in her eyes was ever present but now had a shimmer of curiosity. 
“What about me?” 
“Have you been seeing anyone?” Pieck’s grin widened, especially when you froze momentarily. All fell eyes on you now. 
You nervously laughed and played it off by pouring yourself another serving of wine. Little did you know, two pairs of eyes were curiously keen to know the answer, they stared at you with anticipation, and Pieck knew this. 
“Yeah, let me know, so I could beat him up. Give him a good scare,” Galliard smirked, clenching his fist and flexing his bicep to further his point. 
“You won’t have to scare anyone,” you interjected immediately but like being shot with an unexpected arrow to the back or as if being caught sneaking around to steal something, you tensed. The all too familiar burning stare made your skin prickle and your body shiver. Swallowing the lump in your throat and maintaining your composure, you continued. “There’s nobody.” 
To make it even more believable you offered your friends a smile.
The blond across you exhaled as if he held his breath. “If there was somebody, she would tell us. We don’t have to pry like this.” 
Pieck pursed her lips, eyes teasing and in disbelief. “Oh? Well, I’m just teasing her, Reiner.” 
You chuckled and reached to the back of your neck, your senses tingling from the knowing feeling of what it’s like to be in his presence. 
“Plus, people know better than to go after our Y/N.” Porco huffed, leaning back into the cushioned booth seat,  a strand of ashy blond hair falling from its slicked body. “We’re not letting some good for nothing idiot anywhere near her.”
“How protective of you, Pock.” Pieck mused, your ears not picking up a lot as your head buzzed with the effects of wine. “And do you think you’re not a good for nothing idiot?” 
He was here. You could feel him. As you stared into the glass, the still body of deep red reflected your face. 
“Hey, kid.” A hand gently squeezed your shoulder. The warm touch made you shudder as your teeth clenched. Don’t call me, kid. Something about that made your heart sink a little and yet his touch lingered as everyone acknowledged his appearance. 
“What’s Pieck tormenting you with this time?” He asked, voice void of sarcasm one would really think he was serious but that’s him. He says some things seriously with a humour he only understood. 
“I’m not tormenting her,” she giggled, glancing at you as Zeke causally stood behind you, not taking a seat in the booth you four were sat. “Just asking about our dear little crybaby’s love life.” 
“Oh?”
“There’s not much to tell because she claims she doesn’t have one.” 
His thumb gently drew circles on the back of your shoulder, your heart picking up at the gesture. You raised your gaze from the wine and up to him. His defined jaw and the sinews of his neck as he spoke were the first thing you gathered before moving to his lips, his cheekbones, his nose and his eyes.  You weren’t sure if it was the buzz of the wine getting to you, making you feel all soft and fuzzy but this was a face you had gazed upon many a night. Sometimes you wondered why he hid his handsome face with his golden beard. Not that you were complaining, oh no. The hair that framed his mouth and jaw added a kind of wisdom to him, it made his overall countenance even more unreadable. 
“How is she supposed to have one when you’ve got these two,” he tilted his head slightly to the direction of the two men sat across from you. “…Colt and even the kids, guarding her like a hawk?” Zeke jested. 
How indeed. 
“She could be having a secret love affair?” Pieck suggested with a sly smile, winking at your direction.
But all you could think about was how you disliked it when Zeke called you kid. 
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Soft linen kissed the bare skin of your back and your head rested upon a cloud soft pillow. Your whole body tingled as if slowly being set aflame, sparks ignited with every single caress from callous yet gentle hands. The bitter taste of tobacco lingered on his pink lips that you’d never imagined to be this soft and yet there was a sweetness to them that you can’t quite place but you craved for more. 
His hands run down your sides and paused at your hips, giving them a gentle squeeze, feeling them as if checking that he was really touching you as his lips refused to leave yours. When they did he found himself wanting to kiss every part of you and he had the rest of the long night to do so. Your lips parted slightly with a soft gasp escaping when his lips, hot, kissed and suckled at the curve of your neck. Your legs shivered to close, wanting to rub against each other for some kind of friction but he was between them as he pinned you beneath him, worshipping you with every kiss and caressing you with adoration.
He felt the way your thighs tried to close, squeezing his waist gently. He couldn’t hold back the smirk that formed on his face as he continued to kiss you, bringing his knee up to your mound.
“Z-Zeke!” You had gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders squeezed him at the sudden pressure of where you began to ache.
“That’s a beautiful rendition of my name, sweetheart,” he murmured against your skin. “I’m looking forward to hearing more.” 
Zeke didn’t know what was awoken in him to even try with you. All he knew was he wanted you and that every time you had to leave after being with him and your shared friends, he’d rather go home with you than watch you go. He sought after you in ways he shouldn’t and believed he couldn’t care for. He didn’t know what exactly it was. Was it because his term with his Titan was ending? Maybe he just wanted to live a little? Let loose before he dies? He was too intoxicated by just you to even contemplate an answer, it’s even more difficult when he could feel your supple soft skin beneath his calloused tainted hands, hear your titillating breaths and feel warmth emanating from your body. 
It felt like a crime to be this close to you. To touch you. He couldn’t help but be audacious when he had seen you from across the room, seated by the bar and in  a conversation with Pieck. He had wondered what she had said to you that made you flush and bloom so prettily that the sudden idea of other parts of you being that same shade of flush crossed his mind. He could’ve stayed away. He should’ve. But when you caught him staring at you from afar and you held his gaze, he knew that something was lit aflame. 
Then it happened over and over again. Longing stares, a glint in his eye and a soft nod of your head and a smile to silently acknowledge him. Over and over til small talk became in depth conversations, til soft short touches lingered and became bolder. 
Till it all filled a chalice that was full and now was overflowing endlessly. All that so he could now feel your skin against his, your lips on his lips and be completely and utterly drunk on all of you. 
“T-take these off.” You huffed when you lied back down, annoyed with the fabrics that separated the two of you. 
“Impatient are we?” He grinned, leaning back to full height and kneeling between you. You rolled your eyes at the smug look on his face but when he discarded his blazer and his fingers worked the buttons of his shirt, you let out a deep breath. It was a shame that his clothes hid away such a toned frame, a body that was trained rigorously for years and one that harnessed a Titan. 
“You were the one who kissed me first,” you pointed out, still admiring his physique illuminated by moonlight. 
“I couldn’t hold myself back anymore.” He threw the shirt away before bringing his attention, not like he wasn’t before, back to you. There you laid on his bed, hair beautifully a mess, only in your shell satin slip,pliant and anticipating, looking up at him with those eyes of yours. He wished he could take a picture. 
“See. You’re the impatient one.” 
“Guilty as charged.” He surrendered easily to you and only you. 
Without wasting another precious moment, his lips claimed yours and he would claim it over and over again if he had to. You were sweet. Too sweet. Too much of a good thing that he shouldn’t ruin because God knows the sins he had committed. But at the end of the day, he was also a man. A temptation as promising and as beautiful as you was worth a bite. 
Zeke’s hands roamed the expanse of exposed skin, finding that he adored touching the skin of your thighs as he pushed the satin fabric higher and higher, enjoying the way your breath hitched when he caressed your inner thigh. 
“Have you ever had someone before?” He asked, grey eyes looking through long, pretty, dark golden lashes.
“Why?” You caught your lip between your teeth finding the question amusing as you hid your smirk. “Do you want me to say you’re the first?” 
His hands squeezed your thighs, his jaw tightening as he glared. “You’re teasing.” 
“Am I?” You ran your fingers through his blond hair, pushing it back to see his face. He looked agitated and antagonised, and the way he looked at you like this made you want to push his buttons more. Did it bother him if someone else did touch you? Was he a territorial kind of man? 
His thumbs dug into the flesh of your thighs. “Answer my question.” 
You kept his gaze and let your smile unfold, and he didn’t like that. But you looked so god damn beautiful, smiling down at him like that with your secrets and leaving him on the edge, wondering if you’ll indulge him with what you hid behind that confident expression.
“Why?” You weren’t letting up, your fingers untangling from his locks, his eyes followed  your hand and how it traced your collarbone then slowly down between the valley of your breasts. “You’re wondering if I’ve been touched here?” 
“Yes.” He replied, hands sliding up to grip your hips now. 
“No...and nowhere else.” 
Zeke muttered a swear and your smile remained, finding it amusing how the great Zeke Yeager, the Wonder Boy and War Chief, was acting. You’ve never seen him like this or even imagined him to be like this. 
“Good.” He spoke, moving up so that his face was levelled with yours, his frame caging you. “Because I would make sure you’ll forget whoever it  was.” 
“Didn’t know you were so possessive, War Chief.” You batted your lashes, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth.  “It’s a new look on you.” 
“You are a tease.” 
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“A secret love affair?” Galliard scoffed as if the possibility of it was so far-fetched. He was in denial of it.
“Is that so hard to believe?” Pieck smirked knowingly at  Porco’s reaction. His annoyance was written all over his face at the thought of someone else getting to you first. “Well, is it?” 
The ravenette was met with silence and you gave your two male friends in front of you a sheepish smile. You weren’t going to say anything. You couldn’t. Not with how things were. 
Far away from peering eyes and gossiping lips, you were his. You knew that. He made sure you knew. It was hard to not remember when every time you two would meet, your skin would have evidence of your time together. His lips would kiss and brandish your skin with marks that would take days to fade and if they did, he’d make sure  to kiss and nip at you again. 
In the privacy of his apartment, he was yours in the way every woman dreamed a man could be. Dressed in his shirts that smelled like him, you’d wander the rooms, going through his collection of books and sometimes making the two of you meals. He freely doted on you and flirted, took care of you and was a different person with you. On the other hand, Zeke could watch you forever but he had never confessed that out loud. Watching you go about his home as if you lived there too, as if you and him were in a world where nothing constrained him, had glimpses of  a future cross his mind. Zeke reminded himself that they were nothing but fantasies. An impossible dream. 
You were his and he was yours, and yet at the table, or in public, you didn’t know what you two were supposed to be. 
“I’m going to call it a night.” You yawned, slowly getting up feeling your lover's hand slip down your back. His touch was gone briefly and you already missed it. What an idiotic, lovesick fool he’s made you. “We should do this again sometime.” 
“Definitely.” Reiner smiled your way and you returned it, unaware of how his expression softened to quiet adoration but a pair of steel grey eyes knew that look too well. 
“I’ll walk the lady home.” Zeke casually announced, not raising any alarms in anyone’s heads. Meanwhile, your heart skipped when he had said that. 
“Sure you won’t stay? You haven’t even sat down to drink?” Galliard asked, hoping he could take over the duty of walking you home. 
“Just saw you all from the window and decided to drop by. Can’t drink tonight, I have a meeting with the top brass tomorrow morning.” Zeke declined courteously, the younger warriors nodding in acknowledgement.
“There’s always next time.” Pieck chirped, not thinking much of how the blond helped you with your coat. Everyone knew how Zeke took care of you. It’s always been like that ever since you all were young. 
“Next round is on me.” He placed a couple of bills on the table, Porco cheering at the treat as you waved at them and excused yourself for the night, Zeke following you three steps behind.
The streets were empty at this hour, dim yellow lights lit the road with white blankets of fallen snow on the ground and that same white was sprinkled on the rooftops. You could feel his gaze on your back and smell the thick scent of tobacco from the cigarette between his lips. You wished he was closer but you didn’t ask for too much with all the unanswered questions of your relationship with him.
“Where’s your scarf?” He asked.
“Oh, I must’ve—,” 
He draped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close, the intimacy and the sudden closeness catching you off guard. “You’re going to catch a cold if you keep forgetting.” 
“Mhm.” You nodded. That was all you could manage from your shock and fluster. He didn’t pull away after passing four street lamps, he continued to walk by your side as if he should be and as if this was an everyday occurrence, but to you it was so much more. You wished your heart could stop beating so fast so you could really cherish the moment.
“Yours or mine?” He asked when the two of you reached the cross section, his arm still pulling you close to his side, his warmth keeping you from shivering from the cold. 
“I thought you had a meeting with the top brass tomorrow…I don’t want to keep you up.” 
“Mhm, but you will.” He responded with a playful sing song voice all you could was shake your head and softly laugh. 
Your place wasn’t much compared to what he has as Marley’s Wonder Boy and War Chief, and yet when you least expected it he’d drop by, saying he was just passing and then you let him in for coffee or tea which always led to you and him tangled in the sheets. The same goes for his place, except there it felt more like home to you. Somewhere completely safe and guarded. 
“Yours.” You answered, leaning your head against him and he gently squeezed you tightly as a response before turning left, to the direction of his home. 
In the dim hallway, the keys rattled against each other as he unlocked the door, his half embrace around you gone for the time being. You rocked yourself on the balls and heels of your feet watching with butterflies in your tummy as he opened the door. Like a gentleman, he held it open and gestured for you to head in first. 
You shook your head, smiled, and stepped in. You looked around the apartment, very minimalist as always but homey in its own way. You removed your coat and folded it neatly to hang on the armchair. Plain white curtains, sand coloured sofa with matching cushions, a coffee table with books stacked on its surface as well as several folded newspapers from the days before and a crystal ashtray that had been your gift to him. 
The door clicked shut  and locked behind you, you exhaled feeling the comfort of his home wash over you. You turned to him. 
“Should I make coffee for the both—
You didn’t finish your offer as his lips on yours stopped you from doing so. His hands held your waist and pulled you against him. 
“No coffee, just you.” He managed to say in between kisses, his hands sliding down to the curve of your ass and even lower, a signal you knew all too well. You did as he asked, bouncing once so he could support you in wrapping your legs around his waist.  “Good girl.” He hummed with praise, before clashing his lips against yours again, easily carrying you to the direction of his bedroom. 
God, you loved hearing every praise that poured from those lips of his. 
Clothes came off quickly and were discarded along the way. His hands roamed the expanse of your body, caressing every curve and every spot that he had memorised would make you shiver in the sweet way you do. He knew your body and soul, and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you didn’t love him. It was hard not to, especially when you’re lying on your back, breathless from hot kisses and heavy petting, on the edge of anticipation, caged beneath his frame with his handsome face hovering inches away from yours. He’d always, even in the heat of every passionate moment, have a little pause as if just to look at you, to savour the moment. It never failed to make you blush. To be subject to his intense gaze laced with desire and something that you could not read. 
Why did it have to be Zeke Yeager? 
Little did you know, in his head, every time he gazed upon your flushed and glistening face, he wondered about how you could’ve been with Galliard or Reiner, any other man you wanted. The thought of anyone else looking upon you and touching you like this made his chest sizzle with green jealousy. He wanted you to be his and in this moment, when you’re lying beneath him, plush lips parted and waiting for more, he’s reminded that you were his. 
Zeke hissed softly, torn from his epiphany when he felt the softness of your fingers wrap around his length, gliding up and down gently. You lined his cock to your entrance, the man before you amused by your impatience. He could feel the dampness leaking from you on his hot tip and it took everything in him to not grab your hips and fuck you then and there. 
“Z-Zeke…” you whine, pouting up at him. “P-please?” 
“How badly do you need me?” He asked, sliding his length beneath your folds, a breathy moan leaving you as it brushed against your clit. 
“B-bad.” You managed to say, your hands resting on his back. “Please.” Your lips trembled with want, Zeke unable to maintain his composure. “I want you. Need to feel you.” You began to rock your hips against his length, trying to get some sort of relief from the searing ache he had caused. God, he loved it when you were like this. 
Obliging to your cute sweet begging, he entered you painfully and deliciously slow. The heat of your walls wrapped snugly around him, fluttering and tightening at the intrusion, making him groan softly against your forehead while you moaned at the sensation of being finally filled. Each and every time, the beginning was a spreading warmth of euphoria.
Zeke’s teeth gritted against each other and he swore as he bottomed out, remaining still to just feel you. His pelvis pressed against yours, soft moans fell from your lips at the sensation of him inside of you as if all your secret trysts hadn’t made you used to him. How were you able to make him feel like this? So desperate, hot and bothered, and insatiable for your touch and attention. A rough hand gripped your hip, while the other steadied him to prevent him from crushing you with his frame. 
“You gotta let me know if I can move, sweetheart.” There was a hint of tease in his voice but he needed your green light as always. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you. Your arms tugged him close, allowing you that comfort. He listened as you took a shaky breath, your hips wiggling to have a feel. A moan left you as you did, giving him the answer he needed. “I swear,” he muttered, his hands assisting your legs to wrap around his waist. “You’re gonna be the death of me.” He wished that could be true. 
Your heart skipped a beat at his words but that sweetness was overtaken with hot passionate need, when he rolled his hips, cock smoothly sliding between your walls. Your back arched into him, breasts pressing against his chest as you moaned and shuddered at the sensation. God, you needed more. 
“Good girl.” He kissed your cheek, thrusting and began to set a steady pace, all restraint leaving him with the way you tightened around him with the praise as his name fell so sweetly over and over from your lips.  
Shared soft moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. The city outside was silent and the heat of your bodies fought off the cold bite of the winter breeze. Your nails sunk themselves in the skin of his back, the throbbing pleasure within your walls toe curling good. Zeke rather adored the marks your cute little claws would leave, he would always glance at them in the mirror post-sex when he has a chance before his regeneration makes it fade. 
If you had any sort of shame within you, you’d be embarrassed at how you panted and moaned for him. Your desire for him was painfully obvious. His hips rhythmically colliding against yours emitted obscene wet squelching, your cunt greedily welcoming his thick length as you felt every inch of him against your plush walls.
“You’re only this wet for me aren’t you?” He teased, his hand on your hip assisting your left leg to hook around his hips, allowing him to angle himself in the way that you liked that all you could do to respond to him was whine. “That’s it. Good girl.” The praise fell so enticingly smooth from his lips, his pace steady but fast. 
Pleasure bloomed through you, the tightening feeling in your core cooling tighter and tighter, close to snapping. The heat, his skin, his voice, everything. You wanted it. You wanted to be his forever. You wantonly begged for more, your nails carving crescent dents into his back as he rolled his hips over and over with burning lust. This was the closest you’ll ever be with him. The closest he’s going to allow you to be with him. 
“Fuck, I’m close.” Zeke grunted, hips not faltering from its pace and hands gripping your hips tighter. The blond chased his high, slamming his pelvis against yours, driving his cock into your plush pulsating walls and watching how you stared up at him with those lustful heavy lidded eyes. “You’re close too huh?” The sound of his voice made your walls tighten around him, Zeke groaning at the feeling. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart.” 
“You. Want you…make me come please.” You whined, brought closer to the edge when you felt one his hands leave your hip to splay itself over your lower belly, palm pressing against your skin and his thumb against your clit. You moaned out his name, your hips bucking at the added stimulation.
You didn’t have to tell Zeke twice. You were so good. So obedient. So sweet. So cute even like this, moaning and whining with pleasure, your breasts bouncing with every thrust and  the lips of your pussy split by his cock, walls hugging him so snugly. He can never get tired of this, of you. 
Zeke’s pace stuttered. Your walls squeezed him tighter and tighter, so close to your climax. Your voice was getting higher and louder too. His name fell from your lips like chants from a devoted worshipper begging their God to grant them their wishes. It boosted his ego as if it wasn’t already big enough, and he continued to rub circles on your clit, watching your lips part in a silent scream, your eyes shutting as you succumbed to your climax. 
No. He wanted you to look at him. 
The hand that remained on your hip, wrapped around your throat, your eyes fluttering open. Your brows furrowed as you huffed and panted, you looked up at him as if to ask what he was doing. His darkened unwavering gaze told you exactly what he wanted and your shoulders dropped, relaxing as the piling build up of your orgasm doubled. Zeke gently squeezed your pretty neck, surprised to feel your walls tighten around him. Did you like that? “C’mon, just keep looking at me, sweetheart. Let me see you.”
Your head was spinning from pleasure, your thoughts being nothing but how good his hot length moved inside of you and how you were tingling intensely with pleasure. The circular pattern when he massaged your clit quickened and the next thrust he gave kissed your g-spot so suddenly, the tightening coil within you snapped. 
Zeke groaned at the wetness that coated his cock as your walls spasmed around him, sucking him in he could only shallowly thrust, your legs wrapped tightly around him. He was so close, so damn close and  there it was. That drunken lustful look that haunted his dreams and appeared in every impure fantasy. His fingers left your throat, opting to cradle your face as he managed a couple more thrusts before completely forgetting himself, already lost the moment his skin kissed yours. 
You sucked in a deep breath, never breaking from his gaze and watching his eyes shut in bliss. His blond hair glistened in the dim room, strands stuck to his forehead gleaming with perspiration and his soft lips were parted ever so slightly, his face just completely relaxed and rapturous. You were so caught up in your own haze that you didn’t fully register the unfamiliar warmth that bloomed in your insides. 
Zeke doesn’t separate his hips from yours, he instead wrapped his arms around you, wanting to pepper your chest with kisses before nestling his forehead into the curve of your neck, still in his high. You wrap your own arms around him, your hand caressing the back of his head, running your fingers through his golden locks, just relishing this closeness. Your heart was in your throat, torn from saying the three words you don’t dare to say but would die to hear from him. 
The two of you stayed like that for awhile, your body already felt the fatigue catch up. As you slowly drifted to sleep, you could still feel Zeke lazily kiss along your neck. You fell asleep easily, remembering the sensation of his lips on each eyelid and him softly saying that he’ll take care of you before you fully passed out. 
Only then did Zeke slowly untangle himself from you, pausing when he realised his cock was still buried inside of you. “Fuck.” He cursed under his breath, pushing his hair back as he scolded himself for his mistake. It was careless of him. He couldn’t believe he lost  control like that.   Not letting himself lose composure and not wanting to wake you, not with how peacefully you slept, he slowly pulled out. His mind was blank as he stared bewildered at a sight that should’ve felt like a sharp slap  in the face, instead he felt hot to his core. Between your puffy lips, milky white leaked from your hole and unto the bed. He should be ashamed of himself… not like this. Gently with his thumb, he split your folds apart just watching as whatever of his seed overflowed from your full womb. God, why was that thought driving him mad? He could feel himself getting hard again at the sight. He had always, always, pulled out…finished on your skin, either your back, your ass, your tits, your stomach, your face. Never inside. It was against his creed. But fuck, he wanted to do it again. 
“Mhm…” you hummed in your sleep, shifting a little, fingers sleepily feeling the bed for the duvet. 
Zeke was snapped out of his trance, his eyes moved to your face, seeing you still in peace. The post sex glow lit your features and he’s reminded to go grab a towel and clean you up. Knelt again before you, he softly swiped the cloth along your inner thighs, his eyes drifting to your pussy stained with his cum. He should clean that up first.  
He didn’t know if he should apologise. He probably should. What he did was beyond careless. It was irresponsible. It’s against everything he fought for…and yet, that image of a happy family flashed his mind again. You, him and a babe in this apartment. He hasn’t got long so he shouldn’t even think about it. He should never think about it. 
“Zeke…” you murmured his name, eyes still shut, your hand heavily sliding itself on his side of the bed, brows furrowing ever so slightly at the emptiness. 
“I’m here, sweetheart.” He answered softly, resuming to clean up the mess he made. 
“Come…sleep…” 
“I’ll have a smoke first.” He gently dabbed the towel on your sensitive core, successfully having fought the curious urge to shove his cum back into your cunt with his fingers. What were you doing to him? 
“Okay…” your voice grew softer, turning to your side. Zeke covered your naked body with the duvet so that he's not tempted…
Out in the balcony with his trousers hanging low on his hips,  he inhaled deeply the fumes of the cigarette, finding comfort in the small little stick. What was he doing? He turned his thoughts over and over like pages in a book in search of pieces that would fit together to give him a solid conclusion.
In that ten minute smoke session he knew one thing for sure.
He was screwed.
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satcrnslovesbakugo · 7 months ago
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number one fan
soccer player!porco galliard x f!reader
porco galliard i will never forget you😔
it’s too early for this you think as an elbow in the arm from pieck brings you out of your trance. it was an away game, an away game that was annoyingly very early in the morning, but you, marcel, and pieck wanted to do something special for porco, so here you were to surprise him.
he didn’t think anyone would come out to his away games, but he severely underestimated the amount of love the trio of his brother, his best friend, and his girlfriend could bring to the table.
you had laughed when you saw his text this morning, on my way to the game. hope you sleep in, see you later baby. it took all of your might not to respond, he had to think you were comfortably asleep in your dorm room right now and not in the car on the way to where he was playing.
pieck turns the music up and starts to tap the steering wheel to the beat, “he’s going to be so excited to see us!” she smiled, looking at marcel through the rearview mirror.
"he's going to lose his mind when he sees [name]," marcel chuckles. you might had overdone it, but you know porco will love it. you've got one of his old jerseys on and you've painted his number, 11, on your cheek. you know porco is going to love seeing you wearing his last name around with pride.
the three of you hunted for the perfect spot on the bleachers, trying to find the best spot for watching porco play. he had yet to notice the three of you, he was honed in on listening to the coach.
and then he turned around. and he saw you there, laughing at something that pieck said. he had to stifle the biggest smile on his face, which became impossible when you got up to go grab sodas from the concession stand and he saw galliard across your back.
he always felt like he played better when you were watching, when he could hear you cheering him on. he didn't expect you to come to away games, especially one an hour away and early in the morning. but you still came to surprise him anyway. god, he's so in love with you.
and when you ran out on the field after the game, he held you as close as possible (despite being sweaty and gross) and laughed as you rambled to him about how proud you were of him.
"thank you for coming, baby," he beamed down at you.
"i'm always happy to watch you play, pock," you pecked him on the lips.
"let me go grab my stuff, you can ride back with me," porco winks at you before leaning down to tell you one last thing: "you look good wearing my last name, by the way."
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jeanbie · 2 years ago
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WAYS TO SAY I LOVE YOU #7 ★ masterlist.
pairing: porco x reader
genre: domestic au, ghost au, modern au | warnings: mentions of suicide, mediums, character death, mental health references (depression), grief, slight Goblin references at the end | wc: 2.5k
note: love this one. please tell me if you wanna see similar angsts for other characters!
⏤ imagine the first time they say i love you. like, properly say it; because they’ve said it before, but today they say it one last time, when it’s the only thing left to say.
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It started with a medium.
There had been a time where you prided yourself on your disbelief in an afterlife, dismissing mediums on television, laughing at ghost hunters and paranormal movies depicting demons and ghouls climbing out of screens. Although now, those times seem too long ago, phantom memories - even the person you were in those memories seem to be different, as though looking into the mind of a stranger, disconnected and vacant. 
Jean had told you that was a coping mechanism. Mikasa assured you it was normal. Your sister said it was mental illness.
After the loss of Porco, you didn’t know what to think anymore. After the loss of the love of your life, thinking just became pointless.
When the news of Porco’s passing had reached you, it had reached you last. At least everybody in your close circle of friends knew a few hours before you, Porco’s family and Reiner who had found him being the first who found out almost a day before. The absence of Porco for those long and tortuous hours were ones you misjudged. You thought he was going back home to see his family for the weekend. Berthold thought he was with you. Reiner had returned to his shared flat and found the truth hanging.
The only reason as to why you were last was because nobody knew how you would react. Amongst the chaos and shock that was Porco’s death, the reaction that would be drawn from you would change everything. You'd been through this before, this darkness. It had taken some work with Porco to get over whatever darkness consumed you, and this would set you back years. Looking back at it, you even remember where you were and when it had happened, when the pin dropped. Originally, they wanted Reiner to tell you, but, overcome with grief, he sent Annie instead. You will never, ever forget the look on Annie’s face as you opened the door, and the news followed a cup of tea and an unexpected, clueless, and genuine smile had settled on your lips. “What are you doing here?” you had asked, “is everything okay?” She'd said nothing, and then caved when you asked if she'd heard from Porco this weekend. He’s missing my calls. Has he contacted you?
Even after the funeral, after the original shock and after the news had been broken out around university, people still didn’t know how to act around you. The Porco Subject was never spoken about or touched upon. Pictures of Porco were turned over or taken down when you came over, his name buried with him in the pretty cemetery by the river. It took some time, a real long time, but eventually, the pain began to ever so slightly fade; only to come rushing back again like the sudden pull of the tide when Louise had approached your booth in the dorm common room with a leaflet about a medium.
You don’t know why you went.
Mikasa had come, too, as emotional support and because she wanted to be there to see if it was as real as Louise and the leaflet were making it out to be. You hadn’t even booked a session, turning up unannounced and anonymous for the meeting in one of the older lecture rooms on campus. The question of why and how a medium was permitted onto campus was never addressed - you just had to see and hear it for yourself. Nothing would come out of it, and you were glad to keep it that way. That was until the medium called out for a Y/N, and your heart sank.
“There’s a Porco in the room, and he’s asking for a Y/N…is there…a Y/N here?”
You had no reaction other than paralysed silence. Mikasa was scandalised, angry and confused. The medium surely must have heard about Porco’s death here and that’s why the session was on campus. She said all of this accusingly, crying in hysterics, this is wrong, how can you do this to someone in grieving?
You left the lecture hall, leaving a piece of you behind with it.
Since that day, you’d returned back to the comfort of your bedroom, leaving for your lectures only occasionally. Seminars were skipped in silence and the teachers understood, sending emails to cover for it, and the notifications piled up like the tissues in the dustbin. No matter how hard you tried to convince yourself that the event with the medium was a scam, something set up as a sick practical joke, you couldn’t shake it off. What if’s and buts whirled around in your head, chaotic, loud, invasive and sad.
Porco was gone, and there was nothing you could do about it. But what if you had stayed -? What if it was true? What if you just missed your last, and final opportunity to say goodbye?
“Why are you here? All of you?”
“We never left.”
You blink.
“Does it…does it hurt? Dying?”
You close your eyes slowly. “Quicker than falling asleep.” And exhale.
Something deep into your apartment bumps. 
The noise is quiet whilst still being loud enough to bounce off the volume of the movie, playing quietly on your television screen sitting on top of your desk. Lately, your living room has been pulled into your bedroom, all rooms besides the connecting ensuite now in one. Phone calls from worried friends and family were set to silent and on days where the front door rang, it remained closed. Like you did many months ago, all you need right now is the space. People had told them why. They didn’t blame you.
Sniffing and wiping your eye with the side of your hand, you push the covers folded up around your breasts down and kick your feet to the floor, staring towards your bedroom door as if probing it for answers. Silence, and then another noise. On a normal day, this might alarm you, but your body is numb, aching and tired, and so you move towards the door without thinking and pull it open, stepping out into the hall. A glance in either direction shows no immediate threat, and you’re too lazy, too tired and too unbothered to step out to investigate. The noise is likely somebody upstairs or down, and if it is an intruder here to kill you, then what do you have to lose?
You move back into your bedroom, shutting the door gently. The bathroom rope-light swings in the breeze from the door moving and you slip into the bathroom quickly. Light floods the box room, illuminating the exhaustion on your face. You look ghastly, sunken and stale. You feel it too. Depression clings to you, life moves outside but stills in. God, you feel so ugly, so worthless and disgusting and alone - splashing your face with cold water, you gasp in the air like you’re depending on the taste, passing up looking at your reflection in the mirror in fear of what you’ll see staring back. When the bathroom light is turned off and you shut the door behind you, you turn to shuffle back into your bedroom and pause.
There is somebody by the window.
It’s undeniable, real and solid- but you blink several times, wondering if it’s just a dream. Nothing registers in your body, no reflex to scream or panic. Instead, you simply stare.
The silhouette against the window shuffles, anxious, and then steps into the light. For a while you say nothing, staring in a stunned silence as the figure reveals itself. It has to be a dream. This is a dream. You’ve dreamt it a hundred times. You’ve dreamt Porco stepping towards you. You don’t know what to think.
“Pock,” you say, lifeless. “Am I…dreaming?”
“Baby-” Footsteps across the carpet. Moves like him. Sounds like him. “Oh, my baby girl.” Something cold touches you, but something familiar. Old friends. Old lovers, fleshy hands. Feels like him. “My beautiful girl.”
“Pock. Porco?” you stumble. The Porco before you watches your eyes fill with tears instantly, and the tightness in your throat he can visibly see causing your hands to tremble. “Porco? Am I. Am I dreaming? Am I sleeping?”
“Mhm, yeah,” he settles with. Maybe that’s for the best, maybe that will calm you down. His hands engulf your own, massaging the shakes to sleep. “You’re dreaming.”
“You. You feel so real,” you choke. “Fuck. Porco, fuck, what’s happening, why does it feel real-”
“Please-”
“I’m scared, wait, what’s happening, Pock-?”
The hands you felt on your hands move to your arms. A tightness follows, like he’s holding you. He did this, he was good at calming you down with his hands on your arms and lips on yours, whispers in mouths. This time he doesn’t kiss you. He can’t. Not now. Not again, never again.
“You’re not supposed to be here,” you insist, tears pouring out of your eyes. “You’re. You. Baby, you died, you left me, you left us, why did you. Where did you. Porco, what…?”
“Calm down, Y/N, calm down, okay?” Porco whispers comfortingly. “Capture your breath, and then we’ll talk okay? I don’t have too long left here.”
This repeats for a little while, as Porco follows a method he used to when he tried to calm you down. After three long and amazing years of dating, Porco had learned what worked and what didn’t, what to say and what not to. The crazy thing about love is how you dedicate everything to getting to know that other person inside and out, learning their secrets and exploring interests, making memories to remember and frame and tell kids about. There was a time when Porco thought about all of that, and a time where he could have had it.
“Is it really you?” you ask quietly, after several long minutes of Porco holding your head in his hands and bringing you out of the storm onto the calm shore. “I’m not going crazy?”
“It’s me,” Porco promises, smiling as best as he can. You’re crying, maybe you can’t see his face. His throat feels hot, tight and firm.
“I miss you.” You rasp out your words, gasping for air every few seconds, “I miss you so much, Porco. Why did you leave me, what happened?”
“I’m so sorry, baby.”
“I. I thought you were going to your parents for the weekend, but. But Reiner found you and- why did you lie to me? Pock, why…? Was, was it me?”
“No.” Porco grabs your hands tightly. “Don’t ever say that. It was never, ever your fault. Not at all, okay? Don’t think that.”
“Then why?”
Porco can’t think. “I don’t want you to think it was your fault, okay? You were- you are, everything to me. You were the light of my life. But, fuck, I was so unhappy. And I didn’t know how to stop being unhappy. I hurt. It hurt me. I was hurting everybody around me in my own little way. Every time I would tell you that I was doing extra readings at the dorm, all I was doing was struggling, thinking about how unhappy I felt even though I was surrounded by people who made me feel worth it. And you all deserved so much better. Still, you deserve so much better.”
“Reiner found you. None of us knew you were hurting, Pock, I didn’t know. We should have noticed the signs, I should have been more careful.”
“No. I was good at hiding it, I never wanted you to worry.”
Suddenly Porco’s eyes widen, his hands stroking your hair pausing. With a quick exhale of breath, his smile tightens and he lets out a shaky sigh. “I haven’t got long left. I need to go soon.”
“Go? No, go where?” you frantically ask. “No, please Pock, don’t leave me again. You can’t leave me again, please.”
“It’s okay. It’s all okay. I tried to call for you the other week, but you left,” Porco explains quickly.
“The medium? That…that was you?”
Porco laughs quietly, “Yeah, baby girl. But, I get it, you never believed in all that stuff, huh. I should have known better. I had to come here, come to see you. I had to.”
I had to one last time.
“Please,” you whisper, grabbing his hands. “Please don’t leave me again. Please. I love you so much, please don’t leave me alone again. I need you.”
Porco shakes his head, attempting a curly smile that you can’t even see past the blur of his own tears. “Y/N L/N, you have been the love of my life. I have loved being your boyfriend and you are my best friend. I will never, ever forget how amazing you are.” Nodding, sniffing his tears back, Porco kisses your forehead. His lips are cold and wet, ghostlike and light. “I love you. I love you so much, baby. I’m so sorry, for everything- none of it is your fault, okay, honey? Mmm?”
You feel his hands in your hair as you nod. “I know. I know, and I’m sorry, too. I could have helped you.”
“Don’t forget about me,” Porco says. “You being happy, and you knowing that it was never your fault, will help me now. Okay?”
Sniffing loudly, you nod again. “Okay.”
For a long moment, Porco just stares: “I’m gonna miss you so much.” You mumble something in reply to him, and he sighs shakily, “but now, I have to go.”
You grab his hands as he tries to pull away. “Don’t leave me, you’re leaving me.”
“I never left. I’ll always be here, watching over you. Always, and forever.”
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(“All is said and done?”
Porco steps into the long hallway and smiles at the hooded man. He’s seen who he needs to; several stops around to his family, one to Reiner who had it the worst with finding his body. The final one for you. Y/N, the love of his entire life, remembered in memories and gone in touch.
It’s okay.
“Yeah,” Porco nods. Death nods, his hood falling slightly as he points down the hallway with one hand and with the other, passes Porco a small cup. Porco reaches for it, exhaling gently. “Just like falling asleep.”
He drinks the contents and hands the cup back to Death, heading down the hallway. For a moment, his hand hovers above the handle. He’s said his piece on Earth. He’s done what he needs to do. Now, he can move on in peace.
He turns the handle. The hallway fills with white.)
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quiveringdeer · 2 years ago
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One time Porco was over at Annie's and this was not that long after Pasha the cat had gotten neutered. Apparently Pasha wanted to relieve his itch by waiting until Porco was seated and distracted to teabag his head. Pock's hair was put into disarray by the vacant spot where Pasha's little kitty sack used to be.
HDKFHDHFJFHRJT
okay the fact this is potentially not 🐉nonnie with this WILD AS FUCK idea is sending me!!! Yall really be wildin in my asks and I LIIIIIIIIVE FOR IT!!!!
Porco is MORTIFIED!!!! He ends up plucking Pasha from his head and --thankfully has enough common since to be relatively gentle-- plopping him down on the couch where he'd previously been sitting as he shoots up to his feet.
Annie's still ready to throttle him to a pulp for that though.
Pock: "DUDE THE FUCK!?"
Annie: Pinning him with one of her death glares that actually involves her eyesbrows knitting and lips pursing a bit, which means you REEEEALLY fucked up.
Pock: "Now wait a minute! Your fuckin cat just tried to impregnate my hair!" (I was gonna say copulate and realized Pock wouldn't even know that word probably lmao)
Annie: Still silent as she gets up to pick up Pasha who's yowling at Porco in distress.
Pock: "He's not even hurt!" He exclaims while backing up slowly.
Annie: "You hurt his pride." Her tone is monotone as ever.
Pock: Dumbfounded by that response. "HIS PRIDE!? ME!! You're the one that got his nuts chopped off!"
Pieck: Had been snoozing on the other side of the couch and woke up to Porco jumping up and is now doing her best to catch up on what's going on.
Annie: "You're lucky he didn't tear any stitches or you'd be getting yours cut off next."
Pock: "You're insane!!"
Annie: Ignoring his insults as she massages the nape of Pasha's neck and whispers reassurances to him in Russian.
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freya-fallen · 11 months ago
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Zeke Yeager and the Scavenger Take 5
CWs: Manpilative Zeke Yeager, sugar daddy vibes, a bit of dirty talk and humiliation, dry humping, forced drinking, coerced kissing, coerced sharing (kissing)
word count: 817
Part 1 Part 4
It’s your first time meeting Zeke at night. He wants you to come to a bar with him, insists it’ll be fun. So, you put on a dark skirt and forest green blouse, both of which are a little more form fitting than you usual (especially now that you’re eating regularly) and make yourself look pretty.
Knowing your luck, Zeke will have you licking his boots in an alleyway in an hour, ruining the effort to look nice for him. Oh well.
“Hey, little mouse. Don’t you look pretty tonight.” 
Your steps stutter as your gaze rises from the sidewalk. There’s Zeke, handsome in slacks, button down, and sweater. Beside him are two other blond men— a shorter, younger one who might be a teen, and another who is big and tired.
“Hi.” He extends a hand and you tentatively take it, tugging you to his side.
“This is Reiner Braun,” Zeke says, “And Porco Galliard.” He introduces you shortly, and you’re rummaging through your memories for the names. They’re vaguely familiar, meaning they probably work under him. Porco Galliard eyes you with the keen interest of a young man, but Reiner Braun just nods dully. “Let’s get going, eh?”
It’s a dingy little bar he leads you to, not that you know much about the places. The few times you’ve been in one, you weren’t there to spend money. 
Zeke pulls you into a booth beside him, a hand sliding high on your covered thigh. He orders a pitcher of beer from the woman who stops by, who eyes you and the younger guy speculatively, but says nothing.
Zeke fills the glasses for himself and you. “Drink, baby.” He taps on the tankard. Obedient as usual, you begin to sip.
It’s decent enough beer and you haven’t eaten much the last day or so, so it goes to your hear much faster than before. 
Zeke’s hand is under your skirt and drawing little patterns on your skin. It feels nice, the way his big, warm hand encroaches on your flesh.
He tips your head and you watch in a daze as his lips dip to yours. His tongue sweeps through your mouth and you can taste the same beer on him. You moan.
“Did you bring us here to watch you makeout with your girlfriend?” gripes the younger guy.
Zeke pulls away to lip his spit-slick lips. “Jealous, Pock? You can have a taste if you want?”
Your head turns so fast you feel dizzy and you start to speak up, but his thumb grazes over your apex as his fingers squeeze the meat of your thigh. Instead, you bite your lip to hide a whimper.
Porco voices your concern instead. “Um, what?”
“I’m not a jealous guy. I’ll share.” Zeke gazes fondly down at you. “Go over and offer Pock a kiss, honey.”
You search for evidence he’s fucking with you, but he’s as serious as usual when he tells you what to do. You slip out of the booth and around the table, fidgeting awkwardly.
“Get on there with him,” Zeke gestures with a cigarette laden hand, but there’s not much room with both the younger men there. “On his lap, then.”
You clamber up, wondering why this Pock guy isn’t saying anything, isn’t fighting this. He’s stiff as you throw a leg over his. Your skirt rides up. You glance up to find his eyes glued to the line of your stocking across your thigh.
“What the hell, Zeke?” It’s Reiner who objects.
“You can get a kiss next. Now go on, sweetie.” 
It could be worse, you tell yourself as you lean over to kiss Porco. You could be forced on your knees right here and— you roll your hips and the blond beneath you moans. His hands go to your hips to continue moving them against him.
“You can touch her, Braun. She’s so soft and delicate. Oh, don’t give me that look. She’s well-paid for all she puts up with.” That seems to settle something in him.
Reiner watches your lips part from Porco’s. His tongue darts out, then he says almost as if afraid to speak, “Most of them won’t kiss on the mouth.”
“Don’t worry about that, kid,” Zeke replies, watching everything from his side of the table. The cherry of his cigarette and the light in his eyes both gleam in the smoky haze. “She’ll do what I tell her. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” You nod dumbly, your cheeks on fire. “Now, give Reiner a kiss, too.”
You lean over toward him, though Porco’s hands keep you firmly planted. Reiner meets you halfway, his lips desperate against yours, his voice a throaty groan of pleasure, like he’d a drowning man and you’re the only air he’ll breathe.
“Such a good girl,” Zeke coos. “My own dirty little whore.”
You couldn’t argue even if your mouth was free.
want to be added to the taglist? lemme know
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nixie-writes-aot · 2 years ago
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Jumping face first onto the Porco train w some Porco x Male reader size kink please?? uwu btw, my face hurts from the jump
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Porco + Size Kink
Warnings: nsfw, size kink, anal, handjob, slight praise kink, dirty talk
Pairing: Porco Galliard x male reader
Author's Note: Y'ALL ARE LOVING PORCO TODAY AND I'M HERE TO INDULGE IN THE BRAINROT OF THIS PRETTY LIL BITCH BOY
"Fuck." You hissed.
Porco looked up at you, taking you in as he pushed his cock into your ass slowly. You were struggling to take him and Porco loved that. How each inch seemed to stretch you so much, his eyes watching where he and you were connected with a smirk. He took note that your face was screwed up in the delicious mix of pain and pleasure.
"God damn, you're tight." Porco growled.
"Anyone would be to you, Pock." You shot back.
Porco snickered, "You calling me big, babe? Because I think its pretty telling that you look aeconds away from cumming already. Fucking size kink."
You felt your face flush, "I am n-" A moan cut you off as Porco slammed himself in.
"Says the one who just fucking moaned." Porco pointed out, shifting his hand to your cock and pressing his thumb against the tip.
"Fuck you, Pock." You whined.
Porco only laughed, letting you adjust to size. You felt so damn full. Like you never had before in your life and with Porco rubbing your tip, pre-cum coating his hand, you were pretty sure that you could cum just from the slight stimulation and fullness alone.
"Give me the word and I will fuck you so hard my name is the only one you'll remember, pretty boy." Porco promised, leaning forward and watching your face with that cocky smirk of his.
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nectardaddy · 7 months ago
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Thirteen Years [Porco Galliard x reader] 13
Two years ago
A muffled commotion just beyond the man finally became audible as his eyes groggily fluttered open. His vision was blurry as the trickles of blood and sweat from his brow dripped into his eyes, blinking hard to combat it but to no avail. A choked groan left his throat as he tried to sit up, but the ache in his body left him paralyzed, not being able to lift even his arm to wipe his eyes. But through the sweat and blood, he was able to see a thick steam emitting from what he only concluded was him. A steady pain coursed through his body, each breath he took hurting more than the last as his chest rose and fell.
Gently trying to move even his fingers, he was met with the realization he could move only one hand. Only one was able to feel the sandpaper like ground beneath him, the dirt stinging as it scraped open wounds - though the other couldn't feel a thing. It wasn't there. The stream that rose from him billowed from his arm, just above the elbow. His regenerative properties trying desperately to recreate new bones, muscles, tissue, and ligaments. But the exhaustion that plagued him made it difficult to do so quickly, taking hours or the rest of the day to finally be able to feel his fingers again.
Upon coming back to consciousness, a wave of nausea forced him to turn over as he heaved. Red dripping from his mouth as the only thing he was able to vomit was blood, coughing only resulting in the same. His coughing and heaving caught the attention of those around him, his fellow Warriors coming to his side realizing he had finally come to. His blurred vision recognized the familiar face of the woman whom he fought besides, silently sighing in relief. "Pieck," his voice was hoarse, and he tried to clear it, but it only caused more blood to come up.
"You're alright, Pock," she assured him softly. Her voice was a soothing contrast to what lay just beyond, "it might take you awhile to heal though. You took some pretty nasty hits."
"You got your arm, and nearly your head, blown off by anti-Titan weapons. You were the first they used it on, congratulations." The disingenuous voice made the man visibly grimace. The voice was familiar, but not one he chose to associate with willingly. "You're lucky to be alive, Galliard." Reiner's voice, although rough and forceful, held genuine consideration in his last statement.
"Aren't you too fucking kind," Porco managed to choke out his words. "I bet you're relishing in the fact I got my ass kicked instead of you." His words were harsh as he spat them towards his comrade, his voice still just as hoarse but he quickly became accustomed to it.
"You deserved a good wake up call, honestly," he retorted. Pieck glanced over at him, shaking her head as to tell him to simply stop talking - he didn't. "Your abilities only get you so far, you have no protection, yet you parade around like nothing will harm you, you're reckless and if this didn't show you that you'll end up a dead man."
A pained chuckle left his lips, coughing just after and spitting out the blood that pooled in his mouth. "You're pretty smart, I'll give you that. 'Waiting to give me a piece of that small, pea sized brain of yours while I can't do anything but listen." Although he stayed on the ground, pain surging through every cell in his body, he chuckled again. "I could say a lot about you though," through blurry eyes he glared at the man towering above him. "A little bitch of a man who never deserved what he got, and still doesn't. At least this was my one and only time I needed someone to save me, but you have countless."
--
Present Day
The curtains over the window in the small room gently danced and swayed from the opened window behind them, letting the sunshine peak through every so often as the fabric moved. The sunshine and humid air that blew in made the room hot, a stickiness in the air around that would cling to anything. But the outside air brought a circulation to the room, that if the window was shut wouldn't be there; the room would become a furnace, heat trapped inside with nowhere to go but rise. A thin sheet laid sprawled across the bed, tangled and messy from the night sleep that increasingly became hotter as the sun rose.
The man's blonde hair was messy and hung in his face, bits and pieces blowing in different directions as the wind hit them from the window. He sat in a wooden chair near the window, while you remained in bed still asleep and undisturbed. A cigarette hung from his lips as he put the small flame of the lighter in his hand to the end of it, putting the lighter away upon inhaling. Taking it between his index and middle finger, he moved it away from him and exhaled. The smoke dispersed quickly out of the open window, only leaving the lingering smell to remain indoors.
A stoic expression remained on the young man's face as he once again put the cigarette to his lips. His thoughts turning and flipping within his mind, the vivid images he pictured in the nightmare he had while he slept staying in the forefront on his mind. The blood and carnage he had witnessed while away was enough to haunt his dreams for the rest of his shortened life. War wasn't pretty nor exciting; it was ruthless and traumatic. Leaving him to constantly hold the imagery and memories he wished to never see again. Blowing the smoke from his mouth, his eyes shifted to outside of the window as a bell toll caught his attention and he pulled the aged fabric of the curtain to the side. Chiming nine times to signify the time of day, he let out a small sigh. He had been awake since six but hadn't gotten up until eight; he desperately tried to go back to sleep as he tossed and turned but failed.
Nightmares plagued him constantly now, sometimes getting so dreadful they haunted him in his daydreams. Waking up at all hours was a nightly occurrence, an almost routine that he would wake with skin flushed and sweaty then try to rest again. He was grateful you hadn't noticed yet, though it had only been one full night together he knew you had a keen eye and instincts that frightened him. He wanted to tell you about the nightly horrors he had to endure, but not yet. He couldn't tell you just yet out of fear you may worry even more for him. You had worried enough for now, four years too long, your mind deserved a well needed break. 
His eyes flickered back over to his bed as he noticed movement, hazel eyes catching as you shifted in your sleep. Hearing you groan pulled a small smile to his lips, "good morning, dear." The disgruntled 'shut up',  he heard that followed made him chuckle softly. However, he stayed silent as his eyes focused on you. Watching as you tried to go back to sleep but gave up quickly as you felt yourself being pulled more and more from sleep. "You never were a morning person, were you?" He asked rhetorically, smoke flowing from his mouth as he spoke from the near finished cigarette.  
"You always woke up so early," you retorted with yet another groan, "it's annoying." He saw your groggy eyes squint from the light that filtered through the room from the window, blinking hard as you tried to get used to it. Once they eventually did, your eyes met his as he looked at you lovingly. You stared in awe a moment as he sat in the chair before you, wearing nothing but shorts and having a clearer depiction of the man's built strength. "Holy shit-" you breathed.
The young man couldn't help but let out a small laugh and flicked the now finished cigarette out of his window, letting the last bit of smoke leave his chest through his nose. "Instead of gawking, come here," he offered his hand out to you as an invitation. He saw you hesitate, only because he knew you didn't want to leave the comfort of his bed and rolled his eyes. "Oh, get up, you know you want to," he coaxed, and to his pleasure you listened. His eyes scanned over you as your feet met with the floor, seeing you wear a shirt of his made his heart warm. Although the shirt was old and worn, small stray strings dangling from the bottom seam, he relished in your image.
"Now who's gawking?" You asked upon taking his exceeded hand and sitting in his lap. Placing a quick kiss on his lips, you smiled, "good morning, Pock." The sound of the curtain being pulled back to cover the window caught your attention; though he had no intention to do anything explicitly sexual, outsiders seeing you upon his lap by the window were none the wiser. He wanted to enjoy a blissful morning with you, one he wasn't able to have in four long years. His strong arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer to him, and you heard him let out a hum as you buried his head in the crook of your neck.
Moments passed as neither of you spoke, the serene silence being too beautiful to disturb. Your eyes flickered to him as you gently ran your fingers down his back. The scent of smoke lingered on him; the small pieces of his hair that now brushed against your cheek doused in it. The smell was one you were certainly familiar with but did not remember to be his. You felt as your fingers dragged across his skin, slowly tracing upward towards the base of his neck. The man that was once at peace suddenly sucked in his breath and jolted back. You felt your balance shift at the abrupt movement, grabbing onto him so not to fall on the floor; only to have him grab hold of your wrist tightly. His suddenness frightened you, and you looked to him for answers.
His eyes were widened and breathing ragged as he gazed at you. A certain twinkling in his eyes that you had never seen before was apparent. It was instinctual, almost primal, the way he looked at you now; although fear still swam in the depths of his hazel eyes. "Don't touch my neck." He spoke, his voice weary and uneasy. You watched as his eyes flicked to your face and then to your wrist, slowly loosening his grip as he realized what he was doing. His uneasy breaths slowed to normal, but his eyes now held an emotion of worry. 
"(Y/n)-. . ." You heard his voice trail off. The feeling of his calloused hands quickly left your wrist completely as he dare not touch you. "I'm sorry, I-" he cut his sentence short as he ran his fingers through his hair in worry. "I'm so sorry."
A brief pause felt like an eternity for him as he watched you scan his features, confused and slightly frightened. He felt just as he did four years ago: sickly. He didn't wish for the feeling to return, but his stomach created knots and tightened as he waited for some kind of response. A feeling that was repressed through years of war and exhaustion, although heightened from the same. A fear that was foreign to him quickly found solace in his own body; a fear that didn't have a set origin, but revolved solely around being a weapon of war.
"I'm not going to hurt you," you reassured gently. He felt your loving touch on his cheek, the sensation alone allowed his rigid body an ounce of relief. "They made you encounter horrible things, Porco, I know. But I will never hurt you." Your features returned to those of love and adoration, rather than fear or confusion. Still, his mind lingered to the pit that formed inside. He asked himself why but only found the same answer repeatedly. Muscle memory and a need to stay alive.
"I was so scared," he whispered, almost too afraid to admit the words out loud. The great walls he had built during his time away was vast, acres and acres of stone and cement finally cracking and crumbling. Though these walls wouldn't fall in a single moment, the bits and pieces that chipped away felt relieving. "Every day I was so scared I wouldn't be able to keep my promise of staying alive," he spoke softly. "I was on edge every second I was there. I fought to stay alive, every minute of every day I fought." He remained seated, but shifted from uncomfortably of being vulnerable, "I don't know how to go back to normal again."
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lady-lunaaa · 2 years ago
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@dabilove27 💙
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oxygenbefore1775 · 2 years ago
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hello! can i pls req porco galliard with a short s/o? TYSM<3
hi! i mean, porco is quite short already lol (please dont take offence pock)
Porco With A Short S/O
cw: gn!reader, slightly suggestive at the end
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you just know that Porco is putting things on high shelves that you can't reach to just to gain a reaction from you; you're either get jokingly frustrated with him because of his antics or ask him to help you with picking up the things you need
porco is happy with either of your reactions: considering your small stature, the sight of you trying to be intimidating while holding back an unbidden smile is quite adorable to him or he likes to be a gentleman while helping you out (as if he wasn't the one to create the conditions of your predicament in the first place)
Porco likes to kiss the top of your head: not only it's the quickest kiss he can give you but also, with his lips pressing against your hair, he likes to enjoy the fragrance of your shampoo and conditioner still lingering
if you like going to concerts, Porco would pick you up on his shoulders so that you can see the performance; he doesn't mind the weight at all as long as you get your share of fun time (also, having his head in-between your thighs is such a hot concept for him, even it's not sexual)
Porco gets smug whenever you're trying to kiss him since all of your pecks land on his jawline or under his jaw and Porco would absolutely refuse to bend down to make it easy for you to kiss him; so instead you'd jump on him, your arms wrapping around his neck and forcing his head down to your level at which point you finally manage to crush your lips into his
your shoulders seem like a perfect resting place for Porco to put his arms on and lean on you; standing beside him, you'd often feel the weight pushing down on one of your shoulders and turn your head to find Porco, his elbow resting on your shoulder and a beaming smile he shoots back at you as if in ignorance of the whole situation
the making out sessions often end up with you seated on top of a counter or a table as Porco grabs you under your knees and lifts you up for his comfort; either that or you're gonna be thrown onto the bed with Porco's figure towering over you, littering your skin in wet kisses and hickeys
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this has been in my drafts for nearly a month so sorry you had to wait
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lostinwildflowers · 2 years ago
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Quickstep
Porco Galliard x Reader
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Summary: Before the life of marriage, you and Porco were friends who had full-time classes to juggle between the two of you. And- a ballroom dance class.
Word Count: 2.1K
Warnings: pining, idiot friends to lovers, Porco being a flirty lil shit, otherwise just more fluff :3
A/N: Hello my dears! This is yet another fic in the world of hubbyish Porco! This is based on the dance class I took this past spring, I hope y'all enjoy some flirty and blushy Pock :3 -Birch<3
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
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The wind was brisk as you walked to your second class of the day. The white glow of snow on the ground twinkled, making you squint your (colored) eyes against its brightness. A shiver passes over you, a reminder of how brutal the spring semester could be.
You see, you were walking to your ballroom dance class, your second class of the day, and one that you have with your best friend, Porco Galliard. You usually meet him at the gym after your first class, biology with Dr. Dan, but the lovely winter weather made you cringe.
The dance class was Porco’s first class of the day, so he would drive from your shared apartment to campus before meeting you there.
The spring semester was just barely getting started, as it was only the second week of classes. You made it through the drones of syllabus week, and now things were starting to settle in… except for this class.
The whole notion of ballroom dance was… well, terrifying. Partnering up with random people and then letting them guide you around the dance floor? Absolutely not. The only reason both you and Porco decided to take the class was that it was the only available gym credit, plus you would have each other.
Throughout the first week, everyone in the class was too terrified to even look at another student, let alone think of dancing alone or dancing with a partner in close proximity.
There was one major issue with you, and it wasn’t even the aspect of dancing with a stranger. It was the fact that your best friend was your long-time crush and was hot.
That first week of class, you could see the other girls eyeing up the eye candy that is your best friend. Porco, of course, was oblivious and only wanted to talk to you about his rugby practices. Yet you wouldn’t be surprised when all of the girls suddenly wanted to dance with him as their partner. 
Generally, you just ignored them the first week, as it was all singles work anyway. You just tried to focus on learning the steps and staying on time. You weren’t the most graceful person, but you were a fast learner which made things easier.
At that, you finally made it into the gym, where you started to unzip your coat and dry off your sneakers so that they didn’t squeak for the whole hour. Porco walked in just a minute after you, shooting you his signature wink, to which you just roll your eyes.
He sets his bag down next to yours before following you over to the lines for warm-ups. Porco smiles at you and mumbles, “Do you think we’ll be doing partners today?” A wave of nervousness hits you as you think about partners… dancing with Porco.
Instead, you just shrug and say, “Maybe, but it is only week two of-” “Alright everyone let’s start some stretches,” the deep voice comes of your instructor, Erwin Smith.
The tall blonde was one of the best dancers in the world, an Olympic gold medalist. So, your class does as he says and starts to stretch while listening to him talk you through the steps of the Quickstep again.
“Alright everyone, let’s put leads on the blue and green lines, and follows on the red and orange lines,” Erwin stated, gesturing to each respective group. The thing about the ballroom dance class that was hard that there were always more follows than leads.
Thus, even when Porco positioned himself in front of you, he got shifted down to another girl who needed a lead. He frowns and mouths a silent “sorry” to you, and you can feel disappointment bloom in your belly.
That feeling is quickly replaced by nerves again when another lead takes his place, a tall brunette who had a crooked smile and unkempt hair.
Oh great, you think to yourself, shuffling on your feet. This guy looks like a nerd, or he’s going to eat me alive. Fuck, I wish I was with Porco.
“Okay, now let’s practice getting into our standard frame,” Erwin continued, “Leads, offer the invitation to your follow with you left hand extended, not a creepy Darth Vader chokehold, but not a limp noodle. Very good.”
You crack a smile at the joke, and turn to look back at your very stiff lead. You begrudgingly take his hand, and follow the instructions of Erwin to finish setting up your frame for the Quickstep.
You couldn’t bring yourself to look your lead in the eyes, so you try to look over his shoulder, but end up looking off to the left, just where Porco and his follow happened to be.
Porco was giving the short redhead he was with a warm and comforting smile, one that said, I got you, I know this is kind of weird.
An unknown fire started burning in your belly, and you quickly recognized it to be jealousy. You couldn’t help it, the way he was looking at her was the way you wanted him to look at you. 
A heavy sigh leaves your lips as you see Porco make his terrified partner shakily laugh through her nerves, and you flick your eyes back over the shoulder of your own partner.
You knew Porco was a gentleman, his momma raised him to be one. Yet it still stung to see the way his right hand rested firmly on her rib cage, and his eyes staying soft and inviting to her.
A few moments after adjusting each set of lead’s and follows frame, it was time to practice the steps. Everyone had been practicing the steps individually for the last week, but now it was time to put leads and follows together at Erwin’s count.
“Everyone ready? Alright, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, and slow, slow, quick-quick, slow, slow, quick-quick…” Erwin started counting.
You did your best to feel where you feet were and to trust your judgement. Instead of looking where your feet were, you tried to focus on staring at a point over your partner’s shoulder, counting the steps in your head.
But what you didn’t know is that Porco was watching you instead of his partner. He could see the effort and try in your eyes, the focus you had in your count, and the way your lips were parted ever so slightly, mirroring the counts Erwin was saying out loud.
And man did he think you looked beautiful.
One half second later, he stepped on his partner’s foot unknowingly. “I’m so sorry!” he rushes out, looking down to move his feet out of the way of her own.
Then suddenly, as if a train wreck happened, all of the other groups started to experience the same thing. Leads and follows were stepping on each other, getting behind the beat, and turning the wrong way.
“Alright, alright, alright,” Erwin said above the chatter of your class. “Let’s reset with new partners, leads thank your follow and shift one to your left.”
Your lead quietly thanks you and moves down the line, and you turn to see who you would be matched up with. That’s when you catch sight of Porco.
Porco could feel his cheeks burning as he apologized to the follow he had just stepped on, but she just brushed it off and lined up again. He shyly scratched his head before moving to his left, where you seem to pop up right in front of him, a wide grin on your face.
"Ready to dance?" you quip, but Porco just laughs and snaps back, "Aren't I the one who's supposed to ask you that?"
A laugh falls from your lips at that, your giggles music to Porco’s ears. He swears he almost chokes at the sight of you in front of him, laughing at him.
A moment later, Erwin’s voice chimes in again, saying to reset into your standard frame with the new partner. Porco smirks at you in his typical fashion, offering you his left hand, the invitation to dance, which you softly accept.
As you close your hand around his own, the proximity between you two to closes. Suddenly your breath is catching in your throat and your (colored) eyes are locked on his own green ones.
But somehow, it’s not as scary as it had been just a few minutes ago. It’s comforting, but it’s… intense in a way you’ve never experienced. Porco’s eyes had never looked so vividly green as they did at that moment, and you swear you were about to get lost in the forest that they were. 
You then raise your left hand to rest on the junction of his shoulder and the top of his bicep, where your fingers naturally curl into the tight muscles. Then, just a second later, as if it were perfectly rehearsed, Porco brings his right hand to rest on your mid back and just barely the side of your waist.
At his touch on your side, you can’t help but shiver. You try to blink a few times to calm the quickening pace in your chest, praying that he can’t tell you’re flustered. He’s your best friends, get it together, you tell yourself.
Porco looks down at you, his brows softening at the slightly terrified look on your face and he quietly whispers, "Are you alright? It's just me."
You shake your head once to try to clear your thoughts and then you nod once, regaining eye contact before you whisper back, "I'm okay, this partner thing is all just a bit new."
Porco didn’t really buy it, but he could tell that from the look in your eyes, you were okay. Yet he knew something was bugging you and was festering in your mind.
"You know, I always imagined I'd be dancing with a pretty girl at my wedding, but I didn't think I'd be practicing with her in a college class," he murmurs cheekily, a sly smirk stretching out across his lips.
An intense heat immediately starts to burn on your cheeks, and you feel butterflies erupt in your stomach out of nowhere. You part your lips to reply to him, your (colored) eyes flicking back and forth between his green ones to find the lie in his words.
You had just about found your voice to respond to him when you hear Erwin’s voice next to you, “Wow your frame looks great. The natural chemistry between two lovers cannot be beaten!" At that, he then shifted down to the next partner set, leaving you and Porco a bit speechless.
If you were ready to sink into a hole at Porco's cheeky comment, that was the dirt to fill in your grave. When you return your gaze to Porco's, he has his own flush covering his cheeks and a look of uncertainty in his gaze.
There is no time to discuss it because the return of the counts comes back in out of nowhere, "1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, and slow, slow, quick-quick, slow, slow, quick-quick..." and then the voice drones out in the back of your head as your body starts to move on its own.
Porco's natural ability to lead lets you relax in his embrace, his footwork naturally stepping into you and away like the push and pull of a wave.
You don't look at your feet once as you hold his emerald gaze, and he does the same as he leads you down the line of dance. Everyone around you slowly begins to lose their cadence to the counts, but the two of you continue, feet perfectly in time to the rhythm of the Quickstep.
That is when you hear Erwin call for a spin, and you and Porco release each other in time before you feel his hand push you into the spin. He catches you with what seems like a practiced ease, right back into the frame before returning to the repetitive steps.
“And halt,” Erwin says. 
The two of you stop, slightly puffing and still holding onto one another. It takes a moment for you to pull away, but Porco's touch lingers as you slowly lower your feet flat to the ground and take a step back.
You aren't really sure what overcame you during that dance, but all you know is that Porco has never looked at you like that before, and the feelings you've suppressed over the years were resurfacing.
Then seemingly with perfect timing, the bell rings in the gym, signaling that class was over. You start towards your things, your mind racing with thoughts of your blonde best friend.
But a warm hand grasping your own makes you turn around, spinning right back into Porco's broad chest.
“We've got some things to talk about, Y/n.”
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Tag list: @bluebellhairpin @xxdragonwriterxx @tejxswini @mysterystarz @mortedeveles @vs-redemption @kal0psi-a @gin-no-g @starstruckkittensweets @kitacharm @sukosie @shirari @animated-moon @mitzwinchester @elitparadox @yumeyooa @angels-main
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aquariusaurus · 2 years ago
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post-rumbling pieck and falco talk (applied pokkopiku)
Pieck: So, have you ever seen Porco's memories?
Falco: Not really. I only saw a few and they're really not that much.
Pieck: Like what?
Falco: Probably just him making sandwiches and coffee every morning while yawning.
Pieck: Sounds very Porco to me *chuckles*.
Falco: But there's one memory that I should tell you Miss Pieck.
Pieck: What was it?
Falco: Mr Galliard once talked to himself in his room a few days before they attacked Paradis Island. I think he kind of talked to his brother? He was proud about saving Reiner just like his brother did while in his titan form during the Liberio War but at the same time he was sad to know about his life span was decreasing day by day and worried about his parents going to lose him too one day. Knowing that he was the last warrior who got the titan shifter at that time, he was devastated that the candidates are going to take over the other warriors' titans since their lifespans were way shorter at that time and he was never ready for it. He had a lot to tell to the other warriors. He even regretted not talking much to Mr Bertholdt and Miss Annie after they were sent to Paradis Island. He told himself to less bicker with Mr Braun, work harder for War Chief and he even talked about you too, Miss Pieck. He appreciated you so much for being with him and working with him ever since the trio went to the island. He wish you live longer along with him and couldn't face the fact that you were going to die first. He said that whoever got the cart titan after you would never replace your ability or even the work environment he was going to get with that person.
Pieck: Oh, wow! I never thought Pock was this sweet but sadly he was the one left us way first. I hope he met with his brother and Bertholdt again. I miss them so much, Falco.
Falco: There's also another thing, Miss Pieck.
Pieck: What is it?
Falco: I think Mr Galliard loved you, Miss Pieck. The way he talked about you really explained it, softer and described more about you than the others. He was afraid to tell you knowing how you're going to die before him and now I don't know if he ever regretted the decision.
Pieck: He loved me? I- I had always loved him too back then when both of us were starting to feel comfortable with each other and often seek each other out but I never thought he would loved me back. All this time we just lived together as comrades or even as friends and never thought of ourselves as lovers. I had the feeling only and not even trying talk to him about it because of this 13-year curse. This lifespan thing really by cursing us all even think it's gone now and you know what Falco? I'm the one who regretted not telling him about my feelings and now he's... gone too.
Falco: I'm really sorry Miss Pieck-
Pieck: Oh Falco, you did nothing wrong, you did the right thing to survive and telling me this. Remembering this little bits of him is really cute. Thank you for this Falco. Don't ever feel guilty about living your life okay?
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