i really love possessiveness in the most soft and purely loving way possible, especially during sex. not (only) in the afraid you’ll slip away from them, of losing you. but more… the sensual disbelief and happiness that you are theirs… that despite wherever else you could be, whoever else you could be with — you chose them. you’re here right now, letting them touch you, please you in a way only they can; because you let yourself be theirs. how it feels so good that you’re theirs. how they can’t help but want to keep speaking it into existence over and over with you; make you feel it with every touch. mine, mine, mine just pounding in the back of their mind, the tip of their tongue, or murmured against your skin. how they’d want to hear you affirm it in your pretty moans so gratifying to their ears... how good it feels to earn that “yours,” from your lips.
your pinned post saying “sub!reader is propaganda i'm not falling for” is so relatable because WHY am i getting called a slut in a made-up scenario i’m reading on my own cellular device 😒😒 either worship me or die
real omg, i mean i get if some people like it, but i think we have enough sub! reader and need more dom! reader propaganda!!
furudate threatens to release post timeskip married characters in haikyuu
if furudate reveals ushijima as one of them im going to end up on national television. i’m going to go crazy. you’ll see infidelity and cheating everywhere in my tags. yes ushi’s married—married to ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
no one ever suspected that you and megumi were dating.
not that you made a point of hiding it—megumi simply didn’t see the merit in pageantry, and you shared the inclination. you walked side by side, trained across from each other; coexisted so naturally that not a single soul caught on.
not panda, who considers himself something of a social savant. not maki, who dismissed your closeness as mutual misanthropy. inumaki, certain you’d end up with someone “less bleak,” eliminated the possibility. and certainly not gojo, though that said more about his obliviousness than your subtlety.
until one afternoon.
training ends late, you’re all gathered on the track field bleachers, half-shaded by the sky, eating snacks with the sort of sluggish detachment that only post-training exhaustion allows. sitting next to you, megumi reaches out, and carefully plucks a leaf from your hair. he flicks it to the ground, then tears open a cracker and takes a bite. crunch.
the silence that follows is instant and cavernous.
“wait,” panda says, “wait.”
you and megumi glance up in perfect synchronicity.
“what.”
“you two—” gojo points a finger between you. “this is a thing?” his voice pitches up half an octave.
“yeah.” you say, taking a sip from your pocari sweat.
“how long?” maki demands.
“salmon roe,” inumaki echoes, scandalised.
“four months.” megumi looks vaguely irritated by the attention.
everyone else loses their minds.
part 2 if you’re interested in yuji & nobara’s reactions
omfg yall i cannot post for the life of me 💔💔🥀🥀 MY LAPTOP IS BROKEN WTFFFFF i need to get it fixed so until further notice, all i can do is repost and repost and repost 😓 no aot or haikyuu one shots until said otherwise. dw y'all im gonna post more oneshots once i get back. maybe ones from jjk nd fireforce or whatever
FUCK ICE, free palestine, free congo, FUCK trump, FUCK musk, no one is illegal on stolen land, and if u disagree, FUCK YOU TOO!!!
i’ve said this before but if u support that fuckass orange in office, idc if ur a silent follower or ur like is ur only form of interacting with me, just know, i don’t want it!!! and u are a terrible person!!! 😛
at first glance, sakusa kiyoomi would be perceived as a tall, mean, antisocial boy who'd spray zonrox in your face if you get too close; dare i say a tsundere. but no, absolutely not.
ever since you started dating, he was the opposite of what people think of him. he isn't some germaphobe who'd assault your face with cleaning agents in hopes of giving you chemical burns.
he's a simple boy who likes to be clean. and he'd rather stay that way. he absolutely despised getting sick. it ruins his physique, he'd quote.
he isn't some mean guy who'll laugh at you if you trip. maybe look at you in sheer disgust because of the dirt, but he's gonna help you up either way.
"you are so dumb. how'd you even trip over a pebble? now you have a scratch on your knee." he sighs dejectedly, brushing off the dust and dirt on your wound. he grimaced at the blood, goosebumps crawling down his spine.
nevertheless, he carried you back to your shared apartment, where he'll rinse your wound with some mild soap then treat it with betadine. he'd add a band aid of your choice, wash his hands thoroughly with the soap you picked out, and cuddle with you until you both fall asleep.
y'know what, maybe he is some sort of meanie. he absolutely despises atsumu. you'd laugh at their constant bickering, but at court? jesus christ.
in short, he's just some softy with a mean facade. only you will ever know that though, and he has no intention to let you go. mainly because you saw everything of him, but because he loves you too.
Hi loveee, can I ask for some cute fluff when we're engaged and practising our first dance with porco <3
୨୧ — ꒰prompt. A COZY SILENCE of love set in the warm glow of your shared kitchen, where wedding planning turns into clumsy waltzing. no fancy suit and loafers, no wedding gown and high heels—just socks on tiles, laughter between shy steps, and the warm light of the kitchen illuminating your eternal love.
୨୧ — ꒰ cw. modern day, fluff, engaged!porco x engaged!reader
୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. thank yew for the lovely request, hope u like it!
"what do you think of navy blue and gold as the theme?" porco asked, glancing up from the paper he was staring at—his pen tapping the table in an even rhythm. his golden eyes land on yours, curiosity peeking.
"hm, sure! i feel like it accentuates us, y'know? it gives a royal-ish vibe too!" you grin, nodding in agreement.
he passes back a smile, "alright, lovely." he draws a quick check on the color combination before placing his pen down with a soft clack.
his eyes landed at your figure, hunched over the table to write drafts for invitations. your hair fell from your ear, landing on the table with such elegance it's surreal.
he pondered on whether he'd continue doing this or just goof around with you.
eh, there's still 6 and a half months before the wedding, what harm could a little interruption do?
porco stood up, the legs of his chair smoothly sliding back on the porcelain tiles. he stood beside your sitting silhouette, before offering a hand.
you glance at his hand, then to him, then to his hand, then back to him again.
you gave him a high-five—well, more like a down low, "what's up?"
he chuckles before pulling you up from your seat and dragging you behind the kitchen island. a smile etched on his face. he guided both of your hands to his shoulder before placing his own on your waist.
he swayed you two, humming some tune from an old song you both often heard on the radio when you two were younger.
"what are you doing?" you laugh, following his movements.
"nothing, just practicing for our first dance."
"first dance? for the wedding?"
"yeah, duh."
"well, practicing it defeats the whole first dance thing, y'know?"
laughter erupted between you two, swaying under the kitchen's soft yellow light. white noise blurred the surroundings, focus solely placed each other.
"i love you, you know that?" he professes while twirling you, the smile never leaving his face.
"i love you too, porco!" you say between giggles, placing your hand back on his shoulder.
these were the moments you both yearned for. in this messy, gut-wrenching world, you yearned for solace in the person you cherished the most. your future husband.
ok so tmr im gonna write all about haikyuu i love haikyuu im hyperfixated ESPECIALLY on sakusa kiyoomi, tsukishima kei, and ushijima wakatoshi LIKE ???????? hngh
AAHHHH U ARE ABSOLUTELY FEEDING US PORCO FANS THANK YOU SO MUCH🥹🥹 i don’t usually send things but i wanted to just let u know how much i love ur writing!! i just read ur “because i love you!” fic and my god i was thinking about it for days. i hope u continue feeding us porco ficss <3
THANKYEW SWEEEETTTTSSSSS GRAAAAHHHH i love you THANK YOU SO MUCH URHGHHRUITHIKJNOIKJGNHOELKJHNOIWRLHNPILHRNWOI
This fic because I love you was so good!!!! What about when we did come with porco after he tells us the truth?
this request was made WEEKS ago i am so sorry
after that conversation at the walls, you left your life behind. this risk it all job, this island, this corrupted civilization in the walls, everything.
with everything going on, you'd rather enjoy everything before your final moments. the war, the damned titans, everything. you knew this was what your parents would've wanted—to live. to live freely instead of fighting with your life on the line.
you sat on top of porco's titan. just on top of his head, grasping the strands of his titan's hair. he held a hand on top of his head, supporting you. on his other was an unconscious eren and ymir— with bertholdt holding them.
you still couldn't grasp the fact that porco was the one who destroyed a part of paradis. he was a fucking titan! you were disassociating.
you knew you'd soon be chased down by captain levi and commander erwin. you knew you'd soon be considered as a traitor. a traitor to the land you once called home. the land you once swore to protect.
porco barely made it out alive after the shiganshina incident. he begged his comrade, zeke yeager, to take you in. he took responsibility for you.
and so, your life in marley started off with a high horse kick.
you met his friends, fellow warriors. they were the opposite of what you expected.
pieck was amazing. supportive. reliable.
colt was brotherly. compassionate. kind yet funny.
zeke was complex. strategic. dependable.
the kids, falco, gabi, zofia, and udo, were the hands that welcomed you to marley. they were skeptical at first, after all, you were from the devil's island. but soon enough, they softened up.
you felt welcomed. as if this was where you were meant to be.
you stared out in the open as you walk down liberio's sidewalk.
"penny for your thoughts?" porco poked your side, causing you to yelp.
you shrug, "nothing, really. i just thought of how your friends welcomed me here."
"why? were they unwelcoming? i'll give them a stern talk tomorrow—"
you laugh, "no! it's nothing like that. if anything, it was the opposite. i felt way more welcomed than what i expected. i am from paradis, after all."
"that's nice. i was about to throw hands." he chuckled.
the thunder roared. lightning flashed through the gloomy gray sky. rain started pouring down, drenching yours and porco's clothes.
porco lended you his jacket, shielding you from the rain—and sickness, too.
"you didn't have to lend me your jacket!" you exclaim, trying your best to pierce your voice through the now heavy rain.
"it's better than letting you get sick!" he grinned.
you laugh. you grasp his hand and ran through the rain, your laughs echoing through the empty street. the street lights serving as your only guide through town.
you found yourself in the middle of another empty street, panting and trying to catch your breath.
"w-we ran.. so.. hah.. far!" you spoke between deep breaths.
porco laughed, "you dragged us here!"
you and porco shared loud laughters, syncing with the thunder's loud rumbling.
"hey, i-i don't know what would be the perfect time to tell you this—" porco started, grasping your shoulders. his hands were shaking, his shoulder was rising up and down.
"i really, really, like you. i like you so much, it's driving me crazy. even back at paradis. you were what kept me sane in that crazy island!" he pants.
"porco—"
"i'm not done!"
"i like—no, i love you! i love how you would protect your friends at a heartbeat, how you would talk and talk about your interest, yet listen intently to someone when they talk about their interest. how you'd help me dress up, help me cook meals, and help me with, well, everything!" he breathes deeply, catching his breath.
his hand moved to hold your hand, rubbing it with his thumb. the rain soaked you two, but you've never cared less.
"i really, really love you, [name]. i can't even explain what i feel for you. i don't know how i'll show it, but i promise, i'll do my best. i-i'll sit through those magazine scouring sessions you have, i'll even help you make that scrapbook you wanted, i'll let you tie my hair all girly—i'll even walk out wearing that proudly, anything!" his eyes locked at yours, golden brown eyes shining with hope.
"i love you, [name]. so much. are you not going to say anything?" his tone dropped.
his grip on you faltered before letting his hand fall to his side.
"i'm sorry, i shouldn't have—"
your hand grabbed his collar, his cheek with the other, before pulling him down to give him a kiss. a kiss full of longing, love, and acceptance.
his hands immediately held you by the waist, his lips moving with yours.
you let go, small pants to let the air flow back in your lungs.
୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST i feel like ure the one who requested modern porco too... hmm... (im sorry 4 the prompt i had nothing on my mind writing that)
he's just worried! worried about his best friend who's laughing at some stupid joke reiner fucking braun made. he glared daggers—no, swords at him. but when you notice, it immediately switches to a soft loving gaze. how nice.
i mean, so what if you’ve been spending a lot of time with reiner who keeps on insisting to walk you to another location. somewhere porco can't be. porco just wants to make sure he's not doing anything that he should be doing—like carrying your bag! helping you up! what if he was holding you hand?
he'd crash out.
so when you finally finally got time to be with him, he prepared cookies for you. not too sweet, but not too tasteless. chewy red velvet cookies with chunks of white chocolate just the way you like it.
to his dismay, all you blabbered about was reiner. he swore to himself, 'one day, one day i'm gonna fucking kill that man.'
"and then he— hey what's with your face? you look... constipated."
"i'm not, and i do not look constipated." he denies, mouth full of the cookies he was supposed to give you. why would he give them to you when you didn't even ask for his well being?
you roll your eyes, "you're so weird," to which he huffs, chucking another cookie to his mouth, "bet you made those fo' me. you know i like red velvet."
"like hell i did. i just so happen to like red velvet too."
"you literally hate white chocolate."
"i grew out of it."
"you were looking at white chocolate bars in disgust last week."
"past is past."
"okay, what the hell is up? you'll never like white chocolate. ever. if you had a wedding, and i quote, 'i'd cancel it because the cake is made with white chocolate.' " you raise an eyebrow, staring at him as he stuffs another cookie in his mouth—refusing to give an answer.
"are you jealous?"
he choked, coughing and slamming his fist onto his chest in an attempt to un-choke. (un-choke??)
"w-where the hell did you even get that?!" he coughs out.
"you're so obvious. reiner was so right." you laugh.
huh? reiner?
"fuck you mean reiner?"
"reiner was right. you're jealous. of him. because you like me."
porco's face erupted, a deep red shade spread across his face.
"w-what—"
"you gon' deny it? i was gonna say i like you too, though."
5 minutes, a new record. a new record for how long porco would shut up. it was for a good reason though!
୨୧ — ꒰ cw. fluff, modern au, uni student!porco x reader
୨୧ — ꒰ a/n. thankyew anon for the amazing req or inspo or WHATEVER YOU CALL IT i love this MODERN DAY PORCOO (sorry if this wasnt the modern porco u were asking for huhu)
୨୧ — ꒰ featuring. porco galliard
୨୧ — ꒰ prompt. lib study sesh turned something sweeter?
porco galliard wasn’t exactly the kind of guy you expected to see in the quietest corner of the campus library—especially not three times in one week.
but there he was again, slouched over an open textbook, blond hair sticking up like he’d run his hands through it one too many times, pen tapping rhythmically against the desk. he looked like he hated whatever he was studying, but he also looked like he’d fight the textbook in a parking lot if it talked back.
“you’re in my seat,” you said one afternoon, setting your laptop bag down with a raised brow. you weren’t joking, not really, but this had been your spot since freshman year. everyone knew the third table by the east-facing windows was yours.
porco glanced up, eyes scanning your face like he was trying to place you. he leaned back, chewing his gum with a smirk. “didn’t see your name on it.”
“that’s funny,” you said flatly, “i thought my constant presence here every tuesday and thursday was enough of a reservation.”
his brows raised. “bold claim. guess you’ll have to prove it.”
he didn’t move. and for whatever reason—maybe out of spite, or maybe out of curiosity—you sat across from him.
it became a thing after that.
tuesday and thursday afternoons, same table, shared awkward silence and occasional side-eye when one of you dared to eat a snack too loudly.
you learned he was in your comparative politics class. same major. different approaches. he spoke up in lectures, sharp and sarcastic, always challenging the professor like he had something to prove. you kept to yourself, took notes, scored high. he noticed.
“you write too much,” he muttered one day, watching you scribble in your notebook.
“you write too little,” you countered, not looking up.
“yet somehow we both get a's,” he said, smug.
“coincidence,” you replied, though you’d noticed it too.
one day it rained hard. campus emptied early, and yet he showed up. soaked hoodie, dripping hair, but still there. he didn’t say why. neither did you.
you slid him your unused handkerchief. he took it without a word.
“don’t catch a cold,” you muttered.
he glanced at you, a teasing grin plastered on his face. “aw, you worried about me?”
you scoff, “you could drop dead for all i care.”
he howled a laughter, “yeah right. you wouldn't bear that.” to which you rolled your eyes—yet a small smile crept on your face.
you didn’t realize it was a friendship until he started waiting for you outside your last class.
“walk me to the café?” he asked once, pretending it wasn’t weird.
you went. and kept going.
finals week hit, and he looked worse for wear. under-eye bags, hoodie every day, coffee glued to his hand.
“you okay?” you asked.
“peachy,” he grunted, flipping through a dog-eared flashcard set.
you sat beside him and pulled out your own notes. “wanna trade study guides?”
he blinked at you. “…you serious?”
you nodded.
he didn’t say thank you. but his foot bumped yours under the table halfway through.
graduation crept closer. you tried not to think about it. about how this quiet, sarcastic, infuriatingly smart boy had become your favorite part of the week.
he looked up from his coffee one evening and said, “what are you doing after this semester?”
you shrugged. “not sure. probably grad school.”
he nodded, eyes flicking toward yours. “guess we won't run into each other anymore.”
“oh. yeah,” you weakly nod, heart sinking.
a beat of silence passed. then he leaned forward, voice a little softer.
“we don’t have to leave it to chance.”
with a swift movement, a small peck was hastily placed on your cheek. he stood straight quick, his ears a deep shade of red. he muttered something along the words, "don't think much of it", or something like that before walking away, heading to his friends.
you giggle at his antics.
well, at least now you were sure this wasn't the last time you'd run into each other.
