Two Sinners Can't Atone From A Lone Prayer {Reiner Braun}

Two Sinners Can't Atone From A Lone Prayer {Reiner Braun}

Reiner Braun was a warrior, a proud man of Marley. But maybe he wasn't so proud, maybe he didn't like Marley at all. Maybe he despised his home, his family, himself. Maybe he just wanted to die, to avoid all this guilt and shame.

Content wraning: Suicidal thoughts, AoT typical violence and Trauma, Reiner Braun being Reiner Braun

He had spent his life living for anyone but himself. Reiner Braun, the son loving his mother so much he would die for her. Reiner Braun, the son who became a warrior for his mother. Reiner Braun, the child sent to war to protect his mother. It was no surprise that by the end of his 13 years he wanted to die. It was no surprise he wanted to choose how to go out, and yet, he had been denied that sweet release every single time.

He had seen wars and blood and death, had killed more people than most in the world when he was still a child. He had been tasked with genocide of an entire civilization when he was 12. Most other children would fawn over cars and races and get into fights with the neighbours kids about some girl they liked and get home to an angry mother and fresh food, and he was strategically plotting how to doom an entire nation, in the name of peace.

Of course, he didn't know then, that it wasn't peace. It was fear, it was war. He was a slave, a slave to anyone who gave him orders. It wasn't his fault, of course, it was the fault of the world, the people around him. It was the fault of Eldia, Marley, his mother, the soldiers… When Marcel died they should have returned, but he pressed on. They weren't about to throw away their chance at 'peace' just because of one death. It was his fault of course, the horror, the dread he felt when he had seen the overgrown titan leap out of the ground, seen Marcel get caught by the titan, seeing him get stuffed between his teeth, the sound of bones as they were crushed, heard his screams upon the pain Marcel felt. He was frozen. What could he have done? Marcel was the leader, he was suited far better for this entire job than him. Maybe Porco had been right, he didn't deserve the Armoured Titan. Then they broke the first wall, a team effort just for a chance to mix under the people — no — the monsters who caused all this suffering. The monsters who followed their leader, the founding Titan, who worshipped him, who praised him…

And they screamed. Ran. They behaved like… Like people. Getting eaten, crushed, trampled. They tried to save their dogs, cats, horses, their children, their wives. They didn't look so different. He enrolled in the Survey Corps with only one intention but at that point. Everything had already started to shift. He had dreams of being a warrior, dreams of being a soldier, and everything seemed to muddle up. Until, eventually, he wasn't Reiner Braun, the son living for anyone but himself anymore. He had become Reiner Braun, the friend and soldier finally making his own decisions. But it was fleeting, like a beaten dog always returning to its owner for food, he always found his way back. Escaping. Into this false reality where Eren wasn't a threat, a reality where he could just be what he was — a teenager, even if he was very mature and enrolling in yet another military. It was an escape, a dream, a wish.

And then they stood on that roof, discussing their plans, before they realized their fatal mistake: Marco. Reiner didn't think. At that moment, he was a warrior. Anything for his success. Everything was only for his success. No matter what or who he had to sacrifice. Marco was a sweet boy, nice and forthcoming, the exact opposite of these “monsters” he had been taught about. He felt with Annie when she hesitated, as he held him down. And then, he stood there, watching Marco getting gobbled down like a small snack. And he fled. How? How could he do this? Marco was his friend, no, his enemy, but what enemy that forgave him? It hurt, in his chest and in his brain, so he shut everything down. And then-

Wait, why was Marco getting eaten?

The second breaking of the wall was a plan. A return to the trauma he experienced. He knew how much damage he'd done. He'd seen the way they screamed, ran. Escaped for naught as they got caught and eaten and trampled and thrown. It was so similar. It was calculated and carefully crafted, but yet, there was a panic inside of him. He did his job, but by god, if there was one, how he just wanted to run. To die. They were just humans, just like him, his family, his mother, like all those who looked down on eldians, there was no difference. Not when they ran and screamed, terrified of the giants invading their home, their sanctuary. What was he doing, torturing, killing innocents? Children, people the farthest away from responsible for the crimes of their ancestors? People oblivious to their criminal past? Who was he, who were they to play judge?

And then, there he was — Eren, a Titan, no, not just any Titan. The Attack Titan, their goal, their mission. This was their objective, yet still his heart seemingly stopped beating. Eren was their mission. But the boy was reasonable, was he not? He was a Titan shifter, they definitely could talk to him, he hated Titans as much as they did, they could argue, he could convince him, he certainly could. So the next plan was set in motion. And from then on, everything seemed to fail miserably. The kidnapping backfired, Annie got captured, they nearly died, so then, Reiner made a decision.

Maybe his next decision already was one of tragedy, the stupid idea he had to tell Eren, tell him in front of basically everyone. The few feet of distance, what would they do? He didn't want to risk Bertholds life, yet he did, and his as well. A risk he took, a risk he nearly had to pay the price for. Precious seconds the difference between his death and survival, yet he survived. Maybe, he would ask himself later, maybe that already was the point where he wanted to die. The first attempt at a suicide, possibly. In the end, it all clumped together in his memory, a haze over his intentions and experiences, yet they still stung as clear as day. What was he doing?

Berthold died alone. And it was his fault. He couldn't protect him, he wasn't even there for him. No. He had to be saved, he had to be carried away, after loosing three titans, of which they only got back one, loosing a fourth was not an option. Reiner had failed. As a leader, a friend, a fighter, a warrior. He had failed Marley, failed to save his family, he was cursed with failure, and he was destined to forever be the symbol of incompetence. So they returned to Marley, while he grieved his only real friend. He was miserable. Reiner had failed at the easiest of tasks, he was supposed to be one of the best warriors of Marley, of the world, yet maybe they had been right. He wasn't prepared. He wasn't fit for this role. If only Marcel would have been alive. If only he would have died instead.

Marley was miserable, just like on Paradis, they lived in a cage, unlike on Paradis, he was a caged dog on a leash, a slave for war. He was home, yet he didn't feel farther away from home than he felt on Paradis. The fights, the senseless rage that Marley instilled into the next generation of warriors, it was nonsensical, complete lies fabricated in order to boost this way of thinking in black and white, their worldview. It was brainwashing at its finest. And now, as he was older, with what he saw himself, it seemed so clear, how could he have fallen for these blatant lies? The blatant propaganda? Marley was loud in such a different way to Paradis. The amount of times he wished he could just die, it was ridiculous. Yet somehow, he survived. He had been so close so often, rifle propped against the floor, the icy muzzle pressed into the wet cavern of his mouth, leftover gunpowder mixing with his saliva. Adrenaline pumped, his finger on the trigger. In less than a second, it all could be over. It would be over.

And he didn't shoot.

If only he had been strong enough to pull that trigger, he wouldn't have had to face Eren. Of all people, that boy a little bit too much like him, he may not have been a boy anymore, yes, but yet again, Reiner found himself begging for death, and again, he was not to be granted the release he so desperately sought. Again he was denied, and again he saw screaming, crying, running. Death. Another battlefield. Another detestation. Another Nightmare to add to his list.

The last mission. For one last time, an attack on Paradis. Return the Titans, stop them. That familiar haven, the familiar city and walls, years spent, wasted here, the place of his failure, the place of his sorrows. And finally, he was on the floor, he was ready to sacrifice himself, save one of the children, die at least in a meaningful way, he had surrendered. He was prepared. He had said his goodbyes, as there were none left to say. And then. Of course, even with his armour undone, his flesh nearly bitten through, there was something bound to get in his way. Another friend, another teammate lost.

Why was he surviving? Why was he the one everyone chose to safe? Why, why, why?

God, how he hated himself. How he wished he had pulled the trigger before meeting Eren again. If only he had accepted his fate. If only his mother wouldn't have pushed him. If only he wasn't born an eldian. If only he wasn't born at all.

And in the end, 80% of humanity had died. And he was still standing. So many of his friends were dead, his family was dead. Annie survived. God, how he had hated her at the start, how he had despised her way of icy rebellion. And now, they stood side by side and there was nothing he wanted to complain about. Reiner wondered if it had all played out differently, if he wouldn't hate himself so much if only he had been born on Paradis, together with his… was he allowed to calm them friends? He has betrayed them, attempted to kill them, was he really in the right to call himself a friend? The others didn't seem to mind, yet even after they decided to return to Paradis, he still couldn't shake, couldn't comprehend.

Why was he the one to survive?

Nobody like you {Eustass Kid X Chubby! Reader}

Fluff: Comfort

You're not feeling great, a sharp pain in your stomach keeping you from Work. After an emergency call to his workplace, your husband takes his break to come over and look after you. Making you feel better, not only physically, but also about yourself

You really couldn't understand why it had to be today of all days, that you were getting Ill. You really had tried to push through, but ended up calling your boss to excuse yourself for today. You apologized profusely, knowing, that your team would be short-staffed - especially today.

It was terrible. The pain, the day, the light, the dark, the volume, the way you felt guilty for not being able to work. After having a small accident that you definitely couldn't get rid of yourself, you had called the Mechanic's Shop. Killer was who answered, and who didn't waste a minute after hearing your weak voice, strained by the pain, asking for your husband.

Kid was on the phone in a matter of seconds. "What's wrong, plum? You alright?" "Yeah, kind of?" He repeated his words, this time with more pressure behind them. "I uh- I need you for a few minutes here, I think." "Be right there, don't you worry." You could hear him yell he's taking an emergency break, before the call went silent. You curled back up in your bed, trying to find a good position to feel comfortable in.

Kid arrived in a few minutes - undoubtedly a result of himself speeding all the way here. He helped you with your accident and layed next to you on the bed, your face facing him. You didn't want to look at him, felling ashamed of your situation and weakness. "Pumpkin" One of his sweet nicknames pulling you out of your head.

"You're the most gorgeous person I've ever seen. You're strong. Keep doing your best. You need something?" You shook your head, tears starting to rise up. Kid wasn't a man of many words - at least not of affectionate and sweet ones - so you cherished this more than anything. He came closer, putting his hands around your Body, slightly squishing the soft meat and letting you rest and relax against him however you liked.

"I love you, gorgeous." Your head fell forwards, you eyes looking away again, forehead hitting his chest. Your arms went around his Torso as best as they could from this very comfortable position. "Love you too, my handsome tulip"

Engravings {Peruh X Reader}

After getting your first Tattoo, your boyfriend Peruh helps you through the pain and with care, torturing you with massaging the tattoo cream into your skin, your pained gasps ringing out, your body jolting forwards, trying to explain the way it hurt, when he touched your painted wound.

You had heard many horror stories about how painful a tattoo would be, but the hours you sat there getting your tattoo were mildly uncomfortable. It wasn't as bad as everyone had made it out to be, at the start you had nearly fallen asleep multiple times because it had been so relaxing. Your Boyfriend Peruh had held your hand and reassured you. He had laughed with you and commented on the process of the tattoo whenever you needed it. He one time went up to get some drinks and snacks for everyone in the room.

The end undoubtedly hurt the most. There just wer certain spots that hurt immensely, Peruhs' hand nearly being crushed by your sheer force of pain. It was all good, however. No tears were shed, the show was finished, and so was Our tattoo - a big hawk flying into space adorned your back now, a tad bit of blood seeping out very slowly, while the tattoo shined with the clear fluids to close the wound. You had thanked the artist and returned home after getting some clear foil over your tattoo, as to not stain your clothes. He drove you home.

The worst part wasn't the pain, it was not being able to shower for a solid two weeks. Every morning your boyfriend took the shower head, making sure the water wasn't too hot or cold, and washed the tattoo off with water, before patting it dry. You hung around without a shirt or bra in your house to let the tattoo air-dry and heal better and faster. You had no idea if it actually worked that way, but it had been suggested. Peruh was kind enough to even treat it with the treatment salve you had bought from the shop.

When he told you your tattoo was flaking off you first started to panic. ou had heard about tattoos falling off, but never about flaking off - had you down something wrong, or had the artist? Where you gonna end up with a nasty scar? He had been quick to shut it down, explaining it was simply flaking, and that the ink wasn't actually leaving your body. You ended up googling to to make sure and were thankful that everything healed correctly.

When it started to itch and you couldn't bare it, he simply placed his hands on the spot where it did, effectively ending the itching most of the time. He was a wonderful help and you were grateful. He even made progress pictures of the healing tattoo and updated you on ever single thing happening.

After two weeks were over there was one thing on your list, that was first - shower. Shower with the nearly scorching water running over your skin and using shampoo and conditioner and body wash without having to bend over the tub or using a washcloth, as to not get any chemicals inside your tattoo. Peruh joined you in the bathroom, wanting to see the fully healed tattoo. The second you got out, he still helped you dry off, his hand wandering to softly go over the painted picture, engraved in your skin forever.

"Such a beautiful picture on such a strong person. I am so grateful, so honoured you allow me to call you mine" "As I call you mine, my beautiful, handsome, gentle and loving partner. Thank you so much"

He had blushed at the compliment and bashfully exclaimed how he loved you until every star in teh universe would die. He could be a bit dramatic, but it was always a pleasure to hear such words. A storm of light, loving kisses were exchanged and you were left happy in the bathroom as he went to make dinner, a wonderful engraving on your back, always reminding you about him and the way he loved you.

"I love you too, Peruh. Even if all the stars in this universe died, I would love you still, until tmevery star in every universe died and nothing exists anymore"

Seven Minutes in Hell {Breakup! Eustass Kid X Reader}

You have been treated badly one too many times. It's time to leave your Boyfriend behind

Shit hasn't been well, this song slaps and let's get this shit show started!

Ofc kinda angsty(not really though?, but on god Reader deserves freedom (Dw, my pookie will get another actual One shot soon lmao, hopefully as tasteful as the song but lbfr i'll probabky flump it again)

Anywho, let's get it started

Admittedly, your relationship with Kid was everything but healthy. He was loud and didn't really care about if you had to stand up in the morning, police called to your place more than once for loud screaming and arguments. There were his guy friends, his crew, that were obviously higher on his priority list than you — far higher. The amount of times he nearly went to jail for them, you'd thought Kid would have learned his lesson, but alas he never did. And you? Well, you seemed to only be there for one thing — stress relief. If that meant fucking you and screaming at you, something even throwing random stuff at you he found in the house, well, that was for him to decide on the whim.

If at least the sex was good, but even that was all about him. It was like the world revolved around him and only him and everyone had to do what he wanted. Well, too bad for him, you had enough. Years of misery finally snapping to a close, you decided he wasn't worth your time anymore. You were done with being treated like an old-timey housewife of the Middle Ages. You had packed your things while he was out with his friends again, ready to leave. There was no way in hell however you would want to miss his face when you confronted him, oh how you imagined he'd look. Would he be upset, would he scream at you again, only proving your point?

You put your last bag in your best friend's trunk, she had been kind enough to lend you a hand in her endeavor. If it went how she wanted to, you probably wouldn't even have started this relationship, but now she just sat ready to drive, the box of glitter she brought still sitting on the back seat as she gave you a last encouraging nod to take it. You didn't and went back inside, letting her know it could get late — she waited, of course. And you went back inside.

Kid was expecting food on the stove when he came back home, he didn't even notice your shoes missing on the shoe rack out front when he unlocked the apartment, but he did notice one thing — all that decor he had absolutely despised missing. He even smiled triumphantly before he realised the missing smell of fresh food. Kicking off his boots haphazardly, he stopped into the kitchen and saw you on your phone, sitting on a chair at the table. "Yo, what's with food?" "I won't make you food anymore."

There was a silence, a calm before the storm. You put your phone in your back pocket before he could fly off the handle, just in time. "What the fuck?! You're not even gonna make me food now, what are you even worth?!" You let him have his little temper tantrum, before you sighed. "We're done, Kid. I'm worth far more than you, and by all means... I really hope you never get another partner in your life, my god" He seethed, his face contorting in anger, but he didn't say anything, couldn't say anything, words missing on his tongue and voice dying in his throat. "Oh, and uh, I'm moving out. Like today." You shrugged.

All the tension in him seemed to snap at once, as he lunged forwards, grabbing you by your throat and pushing you against the wall. His metal fingers pressing down hard, actually restricting your airway. "You fucking bitch have the audacity to come in here, live here for years, be absolutely useless to me, then up and leave? No, no, you don't get to do that!" "Well, I was good enough to make you food. And to get you off, apparently. Also, you hurt me in any way, I won't hesitate to call the police, I only need to press one button right now." He huffed, he really seemed like a bull trapped in a ring with gladiators, just that this was no real fight. "Don't fucking pretend like you didn't like this shit, wasn't that part of the reason you even came here in the first place?"

"It was, at the start" You smiled. "You just kind of… Put me through hell, not gonna lie. Like, you've gotten so bad in bed, it's actively hell. Like I'm just there, and honestly, no. Not even a thank you, no — just no." His hands clenched into fists, and for a second you thought you had crossed the line, as he raised his hand, before he turned, smashing the table with his prosthetic. "Get out you fucking whore! Get out, or I swear I'll rip your fucking throat out!" You didn't need to get asked twice, running to your friends' car, who looked at you worriedly, but you smiled as you hoped into the passenger seat. "Drive, Drive!" And without a word, she started the car as you began laughing. Finally, you were free again.

Believe {Father John Price & Reader} [Angst, verbal Fight]

You loved your Dad. You really did. You may not know him, but you knew he was a good man, a soldier. But you don't remember a time where he was really there for you. One day, he sits at the table with you, asking you questions and all you can think of, is why?

A/N: I absolutely didn't base this off of a c.ai Bot I talked with. Absolutely not. Now cry like I have.

TW: yelling, family argument, ilugky crying, fighting, discussions about absent father, exactly that father trying his best, people saying things they don't mean or want to say, !!NO ABUSE!!

You had come home from college, when you already saw the strange truck in the driveway. It took a few minutes before you remembered it was his truck. You father was back. You weren't bothered, but it also didn't spark any real type of joy in you. Your keys jingling, you opened the front door, kicked off your shoes, threw your backpack next to them and looked for you mother to say hello.

You mother was in the living room, lounging on the couch, a thick arm around her shoulder, as you could see your father's head buried in her hair, slowly scratching his scalp. "Hey Mom." She didn't perk up like usually, her eyes only scanning you drowsily. It was kind off cute. She smiled, greeting you back softly, her voice a bit cracked. She had cried, but you didn't bother. Of course she did. "Hey John." You smiled at your father as well, even if it was a tad more blank than the one given to your mother. He noticed, if course he did.

Dinner was already done, so stalking into teh kitchen to serve yourself some food, there were a bunch of small candies strewn on the table. You recognized them. The tiny pinkish Bonbons wrapped in yellow, blue and green paper, a fancy font slapped onto it displaying it's name. You had eaten these a bunch when you were little. But you hadn't for about 10 years at that point. You sighed. It was a cute gesture, so you stuffed them in your pocket. One of your friends would eat them, it would be okay.

Finishing your dinner and putting away the plates, John accompanied you in the kitchen. "Hey, Mouse. How was school?" "Good." An awkward silence settled into the room. "Anything special happened?" "No." Another period of silence as he sat down at the table, in front of where you had been sitting. "I see you took the candy?" "I'll give it to a friend. I don't like them." He looked a bit confused. "I thought you liked them? You always lived them as a child." You sighed, taking your seat. "Exactly. I was a child. I don't like them anymore, too sugary sweet." You didn't know what he thought, not being able to read him like your mother.

"What uh... What have you been up to while I'm gone?" "Studying. I have a Job to earn some pocket money. Got new friends." "Are you dating anyone?" You shook your head. "Not interested right now. Maybe some day." He smiled. "That's good. Wanting to focus on your studies first." "I want to be there for Mom, that's all. If I get a partner, paired with the Job and my studies, I won't be able to be there for her. Don't want her to basically loose her only other family member." Your words struck John, his gaze flickering to your Mom still lounging on the couch.

"I-" he paused and sighed, scratching his neck. "I know I wasn't always there. But I have a few months off now, so we could... We could do something together. If you want." You shrugged. "Sure. Anything specific?" "I hoped you might have some suggestions." You chuckled. Of course. "Well. What do you like to do?" He pondered. He actually didn't really know. He usually stayed home, doing something fun like going to theme parks or taking the kids to teh ice cream parlour down the street. "I don't mind as long as we do something together. I really missed you two and we could do something together, I thought. As a family."

"That's sweet, John." You simply added. "Let Mom plan something, she's better at it than I am." Another round of silence brewed over them. "You stopped calling me Dad." Price stated, matter of factly and you flinched. You tried to avoid the subject. "Yeah." You paused. How would you let him know without sounding harsh? "I don't think it's right someone you don't know your father. It shouldn't be that way." Your words stung. They stung to actually admit, but they stung more to be heard by your father. You loved him, you did. But you just weren't sure if he really was your father. Biologically, yes. But he had never been there for you, or your Mom.

"I'm... Sorry. I'll try to make it up." "It's okay, you don't need to. You already lost my entire childhood, I don't think a few years more will matter." You mumbled, glancing at the table. You really didn't want to look at him right now. You were being honest, you remembered him always preaching to be honest to him and his Mom, so that they could always be honest with you. So you did just that. What would it do to hide your hurt? You could feel the way he had to digest your words. "I know I wasn't there in your life. But I would like to be. Please, Mouse. Let us.. talk. Tell me what you like, what you want, I'll get it."

You huffed. "I don't want anything money can buy. I want a father. A real one." Your words sounded harsher than they should have, tone sharp and accusatory. "Sorry, that's not... I just meant I don't need anything from you. Thank you though." He stared at you, you could feel your body heating up at his stare. Or was that your feeling of guilt making you feel this way? "I understand." was the last words spoken in the small room for a while. "I know I was absent. I promise you, I missed you all the time. I just wanted to hold you, see you grow up... I hated coming here with you having already achieved so many milestones. Milestones I couldn't witness, a baby that was mine, that I didn't raise sits in front of me as an adult. I know it's not supposed to be this way, and I really want to make it up. To get to know you. Please."

Your breath was shaky, as you looked out the window to the garden, tears starting to burn in your eyes. "I needed a father. Not a soldier that was never here." You muttered, you voice waivering slightly. "I know." He leaned forwards, putting his hands on yours. You pulled it backwards instinctively, regretting the action on the spot, as you saw his hand retract back, hesitantly, he spoke again: "I know it hurts." "Do you? Do you really?!" You felt your patience snap, something in you just telling you to scream at him, another part begging you not to, he was a poor man working his job and trying his best for you, he couldn't do anything against the fact that his best just wasn't enough. Startled, his eyes finally found yours, fury in your eyes as you stood up.

"Because I know how much it hurt watching you leave! Every single time, seeing your back as you got into the truck and disappeared for months! Do you know how it broke Mom?! I took care of her, when she was depressed, not being able to get out of bed because the thought struck her that you could be dead!" Your mother shuffled into the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe with her arms crossed because of the commotion. Your voice was louder, even if you weren't shouting, it was simply slightly raised by your anger. "When she didn't know how to fix something in the house. I tried my best to look it up and do it myself! I did the heavy lifting, I was that one kid in school who only ever had her mother! They called her a whore, you know that?! I protected Mom, I protected myself! Because you weren't there, like you should have been!"

He seemed surprised, before his body slumped into itself. Exhaustion clear on his features. You felt pity, but you also felt you weren't done. You wanted to be down so bad. Why did everyone else get what they wanted but not you? "I'm sorry, I wish I could go back, do it all again, make different choices, but I can't. And I hope we can go forward together, Mouse. I don't want to loose you becaus eif my mistakes, little one. I know my Job isn't an excuse to not be there for you and your Mom, I..." He paused, taking a shaky breath. "I tried to protect you by keeping threats out of this country, people away from weapons they shouldn't have, and yet I failed to realise it was too far away for you. And I... I hope you can forgive me like your mother can, e-" "No, I can't!" You screamed, interrupting your father in his speech.

"I can't and I won't! How can I forgive a man I don't know?!" You started to cry, the sadness and disappointment mixing with you anger and simply becoming too much, as tears fell down your face and sobs and whines accompanied you. "The only one in this house that knows you is she!" Pointing towards your mother, Price didn't even need to follow you finger, the only other person in this house being her. "I know. I know. I want to get to know you, so please, calm down, sit, let us talk about ourselves. Please. I just want to be a father for you." "WELL YOU WON'T BE!" your mother gasped, John startled and you stopped in your track, knowing you went too far. You didn't even mean to say it, it just slipped out.

Grabbing a tissue, you pushed her stunned mother aside, making your way up the stairs to your room, as your crying became more violent. You heard your father scramble up in his seat as you were halfway up the stairs, his heavy feet booming on the floorboard, as he reached you when you were at the top of the stairs. "Please, Honey. I know it's a lot, but I really want to know you, I want you to know me, let us start a new beginning, please! I'll be there for you!" You turned towards him. "Until you have to leave again. I know your Job still comes first, John." "I won't let you down, I promise! I'll.. I'll find a way!" You huffed, your eyes gazing upwards to the ceiling, trying to hold back even more tears, even though they dropped anyways. "I know you won't."

"They will call and you will leave, and then we won't hear anything form you until you suddenly show back up. And then we'll have to talk to each other again! That's not how it's supposed to be! That's now how it should be! You should be here for me, and I know this is selfish and rude and mean, but I just wanted a normal family!" John shook, you could see tears forming in his eyes, as he realized the pain he actually caused you. "I'm sorry I failed you." "It's okay." Your voice sounded oddly at peace then. "I stopped believing in you a long time ago." You entered your room, locking it, as you pushed your back to the door, falling to the ground. For a few seconds you could controll yourself, before your son's, cries, whails and whimpers were unconfined escaping your mouth. You just wanted to scream, punch, run. You loved him. He was your father, so why did it hurt this much?

John, on the other hand. Stood frozen, tears catching in his muttonchops, as he stared at your closed door, posters decorating it he had never seen before, drawings and pictures of friends he didn't know. He had gone wrong so many times, why, oh why didn't he realize it sooner?

The Way You Taste {Eustass Kid X Fem! Reader}

Finally you meet each other again. After months of each of you leading your own crews, one a small island you both run into each other. And so, when you two decide to have a joined party in remembrance of past combined battles. You two just happen to be on a cliff in the woods, away from the party celebrating your reunion by yourself.

18+ content

teasing, worshipping, oral (f receiving), penetration, riding, temperature (metal = cold), outside sex (woods)

The night was dark, the stars seemed to have disappeared, just like the moon, the waves crashed into the rocky shore, the wind cold on your skin and the grass wet beneath you. You shivered, an ice-cold and bulky hand running up your body, clothing already long discarded on the grass. His golden gaze piercing your soul as he stared at you, he was lowered to the ground, his body just inches above yours as he felt you shiver and looked towards your stomach, the goosebumps rising. His hair wasn't all done up anymore, falling down his face, his clothing discarded as well long ago. He had just been admiring you, worshipping you, on this cliff in the woods, faint noises of the party on your ships reaching you, but going unnoticed, both of you too enraptured with each other.

His muscles flexed a little, eyes flickering up at you and then back to following his cold metal hand as it reached your breast, tracing along the outline before slowly running one of the icy fingers over it. You whimpered at the touch, and his eyes flicked onto your face. Kid lowered his head, giving your stomach a small kiss as he let his prosthetic fill his grip with your soft breast. Another whine escapes your throat, as you arch into him. The brute over you hums, a deep, low, delicious sound that made you shiver. Or was that the cool night air? His face still rests lightly against your stomach, his prosthetic lightly kneading you soft flesh, before the cool metal retracted. You nudged him with your leg, not wanting him to stop. He felt so hot, skin burning like the sun on a summer island, it spread through you but was quickly replaced by a chill again, the wet grass blades tickling your skin, the uneven earthy ground digging into your back.

You didn't mind, for him you wouldn't mind bathing in lava, if it meant you could see his gorgeous face and body. His eyes pierced yours, intense eye contact that made you nearly shy away, but god, why did it have to be this hot? His hair looked so good framing his face, his googles giving them free, and he looked like a god. That hungry gaze, nearly devouring you, nearly like a hunter ready to jump onto its prey, and it made you shiver again, this time, not from the cool air or his cold metallic hand. His shoulders were broad as he held himself up with his good hand. Now slowly shifting onto his right arm, the muscles playing above you. The scars adorning his body, the nasty ones from his face all the way to his abs and to where metal met skin. The two slashes on his good arm, if he would let you, you'd kiss all over him, but he wouldn't let you, too afraid he'd become too soft on you, as if he wasn't already. His hand touched you, heat spreading through your veins like a fire spreading through a forest, and all you could think of was him. Ethereal and eternal, like an angel. A devious and dangerous angel.

And you craved more. Your hand reached out, touching right above his heart and feeling the faint thumping underneath his skin, and it seemed to beat impossibly fast, but yours was beating just as much, so you paid it no mind. Slowly sliding it over the edges of muscles nearly visible, little hills and valleys on his skin, lower. His hand wrapped around yours, bringing it back up before it could even touch his belly button. He hummed against your hand, as he kissed your knuckles. All tame and pretty, handsome and infatuated. There was nothing but adoration and lust in his gaze as he slowly, oh so slowly traced kisses down your body. An eternity he spent kissing each inch of your neck and shoulders, another he spent worshipping your chest. Your arms smeared with red lipstick, your hand with the pretty black nail polish he wore as well dug into his hair, tugging him down, but he held fast. Not even wavering in his stance, not movable for even an inch.

His lips on your stomach, your thighs, his eyes closed savoring you like he would only have you this once. Maybe it would be the last time. Maybe it wouldn't. He looked so pretty, and you felt worshipped like a goddess being adored by a follower, by a fellow god, a servant worshipped by its god of lust, of desire. His red hair was such a pretty shade, oh how you wished to keep him forever. It nearly felt like forever for his lips to finally touch you where you wanted him most. First soft kisses all around your lips, then even small soft kisses on your clit, before his tongue finally darted out, tasting your fluids already leaking out of you, teasing you just right. You held your breath, your heart beating like you were running for your life, maybe, in a sense, you were. Running to give Kid everything he desired, even if it was your life. Running to take from him everything he was willing to offer, running to take his heart and swallow it, cherish it. He hummed and moaned, the cool night air nearly forgotten with how hot you two were running.

Everything about him was perfect, his tongue just as much. He knew you like he knew his ship, every quirk and every scar and everything that made you feel good. He licked at you, sucked your clit, you could even hear him audibly drink, heard him swallow in the mostly quiet night. Then, his tongue finally penetrated you, the skilled muscle moving expectedly inside of you, his wet lips smearing their red lipstick all over you. Your hands grasped at his hair, that wonderful red clouding your vision. He groaned, his eyes opening, staring at you. That golden hue haunting you in your dreams, That near predatory gaze fixed on you like you were all he ever craved. Even if it wouldn't be true, right now, on nights like these, you don't think you would find it in yourself to care. Not with the way he worshipped you, not with the way he loved you. His nose rubbing against your clit, his one hand holding, bruising your hip, the cold metal one resting on your stomach, like an assurance, he got you. And you melted into his touch, mewling and moaning like you were all alone in the world, it definitely felt like you were. The wetness of the grass forgotten, the night sky sparkling with stars upon stars, looking down at you from above, but they barely registered, too focused on the man between your legs, thighs squeezing his head just the way he loved it.

Curses left your throat, choked out words, incoherent moans, needy whimpers. He swallowed everything eagerly, every syllable leaving you, every single tiny sound, how it riled him up even more, his hips pushing harshly against the floor, rubbing them back and forth shallowly, some small relief for the desire he felt, eating you out like it was his favourite meal. He pushed you higher, closer to your climax, his hand slowly, teasingly tracing along your folds, threatening to push in alongside his tongue, pushing in only the tiniest amount before he pulled it back out. His painted nail shining in your fluid, not quite dripping but still slowly cascading down his finger, before you could feel the edge of his trimmed nail pressing perfectly onto your clit, before he shifted to use his finger bed, slowly circling it, constant pressure pushing you as far as he wanted you to, seeing you fall apart, it was the true meaning of intoxication, he was addicted and you were the drug. Pushing you past the edge. With a wail of his name, legs clenching impossibly tight around his face, his cheeks squished together, the flesh of your thighs moulding around his face.

He moaned into your warm cunt as he sucked and licked all the juices from it, before sliding back up to you, giving you a sloppy kiss, all teeth clashing against teeth and tongue pushing as far into your mouth as possible, lipstick smearing against lipstick, black mixing with red smears, his hands grabbing at everything they can, waist, hips breasts. The desperate way such a harsh contrast to the worshipping you had just witnessed, nothing unusual of course, but still something that made your heart flutter. Softly placing a hand on his shoulder, you pushed him away and like warm butter, he followed without hesitation, he didn't doubt you for a second as you pushed him to his knees, then further back until he was the one laying down. You climbed on top, one leg on each side before grabbing his dick and guiding him to slip in, all throaty moans as he finally felt the warm, wet enclosure of your pussy.

He grabbed at your hips, a bruising hold, deliciously painful, even if he didn't guide you, no, not yet. You leaned forward, hands grabbing onto his muscles, gliding, scratching, groping. Then you moved, and that was when he started to help you. He moaned out curses, praises, his pupils blown wide, as he watched your body, watched the way your tits moved, your thighs, the plush fat on your thighs and belly and arms. Watched your face, as you lost yourself in the same pleasure he felt. He was otherworldly to you, and you were godly to him. It was mutual. It was perfect, it was honest and pretty and god be damned, it was hot. You haven't had him in months, and now that you finally had him again for a single night, you just wanted it to last forever. Moans and grunts, breathy whimpers filled the deep night, stars twinkling above you, yet he couldn't care less. It was all you, only you to him, and to you, there was only him. The cool air made you tremble, or was it your approaching high? His cold hand stayed on your hip, as his other reached up and first firmly squeezed your breast, before moving to your neck and pulling you down into feverish kisses. You both were a mess. A pretty mess and perfect, and as you moaned his name, you felt him twitch and tremble for a moment, before feeling how his hot semen seeped out of him, into you. But you weren't done, and he would be damned to not let you, so continuing to guide you with his hand, his flesh one slipped down your body, slowly rubbing at your clit with so much pressure it was nearly hurting, but the joint pleasure plus the words he started to whisper between kisses were so tempting, you shuddered and shivered, cumming on his cock with another moan of his name.

Kid held you close, letting you rest and catch your breath, before you two would eventually get dressed and return to your respective ships. It was only for tonight until fate would lead you to each other again, but yet, seeing him leave with the fresh memory of yesterday night, it felt sad. You had chosen your path. So had he, being rivals for the biggest treasure in the entire world, there was no way you would work together, and while you solemnly swore you'd find it yourself, you didn't think you'd mind if he found it first. Of course, you knew what this feeling was, but you were not yet ready to admit it, not when you knew where he was heading off to. Not when you knew he would probably die. If he did. Maybe one day, you could be wherever you go with him, together for however long you were fated to stay.