#neither they are togeter or not | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

satori-runa · 8 months ago

Text

—SOLACE

Summary: Your life with your boyfriend goes into the next level.

Tags: Established Relationship, Female Reader, Fluff, Romance, Angst

Words: 8,9k

MDNI IT CONTAINS NSFW ELEMENTS

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹

“Guess who.” A familiar, teasing voice whispers close to your ear, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. The words are followed by a warm body pressing into your back, enveloping you in an embrace. Gentle hands cover your eyes, playfully robbing you of your vision as you stand at the counter, finishing the last touches on dinner.

You can already smell the distinct, savory aroma of Sebastian’s favorite meal wafting through the kitchen—a hint of garlic, herbs, and roasted flavors blending into a comforting scent. The anticipation hangs in the air, the food waiting to be served, but now there’s something much more important occupying your attention.

“Hm, perhaps my wonderful boyfriend?” you hum back, leaning into the touch and making no attempt to pull away. There’s a soft giggle from behind you, the kind that melts away any lingering stress from the day. It’s a sound you’ve come to love, filled with genuine affection and a trace of mischief. His hands slide slowly from your eyes, drifting down to rest on your hips. You can feel the way his fingers trace small, lazy circles through the fabric of your clothes, a comforting and familiar touch that sends warmth spreading through your chest. He’s not in a rush, savoring the contact as he pulls you a little closer.

“Right on the first try, good job,” Sebastian murmurs against your ear, his voice low and playful. You can feel his breath ghosting over your skin, and the way he tilts his head, nuzzling into the crook of your neck. His hair brushes against your cheek as he lingers there, pressing a gentle kiss just below your ear.

You’d never expected to find yourself in a relationship like this, one that seemed ripped straight from the pages of a corny romance novel or, as you and Sebastian liked to joke, a scene from a Korean drama. It had all started so randomly, in a way that neither of you could have planned even if you tried.

It was a late summer evening, the kind where the air still clung with warmth from the day, and the sky painted itself in deep shades of purple and pink. You were making your way home after a night out with friends, the alcohol buzzing pleasantly in your veins. The streets were filled with the sounds of distant laughter and cars passing by, but all you could think about was how much your feet hurt and how desperately you needed an Uber to take you home. You fumbled with your phone, trying to order a ride while your vision swam a little from the drinks.

At the same time, nearby, Sebastian was also looking to get home. He’d spent the evening crammed into a quiet coffee shop, buried under textbooks and highlighters, his study session running longer than he’d planned. By the time he packed up and stepped outside, the sky was already dark, and he sighed, knowing the buses had stopped running. He pulled out his phone, searching for a ride back.

Unbeknownst to you both, fate—or maybe just the Uber app—decided to pull you together that night. The two of you ended up standing at the same corner, eyes glued to the little car icon on your screens as it approached. When you noticed him, you raised an eyebrow, confusion muddling your half-drunken state.

“Uh, are you waiting for this one too?” You asked, swaying slightly on your feet. The alcohol made everything a bit fuzzy, your usual filter dulled by the night’s drinks.

Sebastian looked at you, equally confused, but then a smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah, I am… seems like we ordered the same ride.”

You blinked, staring at him as if you were processing the situation in slow motion. Then, without much thought, you shrugged. “Well, there’s room for two. You wanna share?”

He chuckled softly, nodding. “Sure, why not? Looks like the universe wanted us to meet tonight.”

You slid into the backseat together, and as the car started moving, you leaned back, letting out a content sigh. The city lights blurred by outside the window, casting a soft glow on Sebastian’s face. He looked relaxed, his hair slightly messy from running his hand through it too many times while studying. You, on the other hand, felt talkative and loose-lipped from the drinks you’d had earlier. Before you knew it, you were rambling about anything and everything—your favorite movies, a funny story from the night out, even some existential musings on the universe that made him stifle a laugh.

“You’re really something.” He said, amused. His eyes sparkled with a kind of genuine interest that you weren’t used to seeing in strangers.

“I’m not something,” you replied, dramatic and slurring your words a bit. “I’m everything.” You pointed at him with a sloppy grin. “And so are you. We’re all stardust, you know?”

Sebastian gave a playful sigh, shaking his head. “Yeah, stardust… sure.” But there was something about the way you spoke, the unabashed honesty in your drunken state, that made an impression on him. You were a mess, but a charming mess, and it was enough to spark something in him.

When the car finally pulled up in front of his place, you were half-asleep, your head lolling to the side. He glanced at you, contemplating whether to wake you or let you rest. In the end, he gently nudged your shoulder. “Hey, this is where I get off. You alright?”

You blinked awake, rubbing your eyes like a sleepy child. “I’m fine,” you mumbled, even though you clearly weren’t. Before he could say anything more, you leaned closer, squinting at him. “You have really nice eyes, did you know that?”

He laughed softly, cheeks tinged with a hint of pink. “You’re definitely not going home like this.”

You didn’t remember much after that. The next thing you knew, you were waking up in an unfamiliar bed, the sunlight streaming in through pale curtains. Your head throbbed, the telltale sign of a hangover, and as you blinked the sleep from your eyes, you realized you were fully dressed, shoes neatly placed by the door. There was a folded note on the bedside table, written in neat, slanted handwriting.

Good morning! You looked too tired (and drunk) to make it home safely, so I brought you here. Don’t worry, you were a perfect angel. There’s water and aspirin on the nightstand. I’ll be back soon with breakfast—Sebastian.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sweetness of the note, even through the pounding in your head. It felt like a scene straight out of a drama—the handsome stranger, the shared ride, the note left behind. When Sebastian returned with a coffee and a bag of pastries, you were sitting up, still clutching the note.

“You’re awake,” he said, smiling as he stepped inside. “Feeling alright?”

You gave him a look, holding up the note like a piece of evidence. “Alright and not drunk, you're really a gentleman for leaving a note.“

He laughed, setting the coffee down in front of you. “What can I say? I aim to impress.”

From that morning on, it became a running joke between the two of you, how you met in such a cliché way. But as weeks turned into months, the jokes turned into real feelings. What started as a funny story to tell your friends became the foundation of something genuine. And now, here you were, dating Sebastian—the boy who shared an Uber with a tipsy, rambling stranger and decided to keep them around.

“Spacing out again?” Sebastian’s voice pulls you back into the present, his nose brushing against your ear as he nudges you gently. He’s still holding you close, his hands tracing idle patterns along your hips, almost as if he can’t bear to let you go just yet. You hadn’t realized how long you’d been standing there, lost in your thoughts and the warmth of his embrace.

“Hmm, maybe.” You reply, leaning back into him with a soft smile. “Just thinking about how lucky I am.”

He chuckles, the sound vibrating against your back, and you feel the way his chest rises and falls as he breathes. “Lucky, huh? I was about to say the same thing.”

He presses a kiss to your temple before finally releasing you, letting his hands slide away reluctantly. You turn to face him, catching the playful glint in his eyes as he takes in the sight of you, still standing by the stove with a dreamy look on your face.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” you say, gesturing toward the simmering pots on the stove. “But if you keep distracting me like that, we’re going to end up with burnt food.”

“Oh no, we can’t let that happen,” he teases, raising his hands in mock surrender. “After all, it’s my favorite. I’ve been thinking about this all day.”

You roll your eyes fondly and turn back to stir the pot, feeling Sebastian’s presence lingering close by. He watches you for a moment, then reaches around you to grab a spoon, sneaking a taste of the sauce simmering in front of you. He hums appreciatively, savoring the flavor.

“Mmm, perfect.” he says with a satisfied smile. “But it needs one more thing.”

Before you can ask what, he’s leaning in again, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck, soft and sweet. It’s barely a peck, but it sends a shiver down your spine nonetheless. You can’t help the giggle that escapes you as you swat at him playfully.

“Sebastian!” you scold lightly, trying to hide your smile. “You’re impossible.”

He grins, unrepentant. “Impossible? Or irresistibly charming?”

“A little of both,” you admit, shaking your head as you reach for the plates. “Alright, Mr. Charming, if you’re going to be here, at least help me set the table.”

Sebastian nods, slipping easily into a domestic rhythm that the two of you have fallen into over the past few months. He takes the plates from your hands, setting them down on the small table in the corner of the kitchen. It’s a cozy spot, just big enough for the two of you, illuminated by the warm light of the pendant lamp above. He lights a small candle in the center, the flame flickering softly, casting a golden glow that bathes the room in a romantic light.

You bring over the food, setting the dishes down as Sebastian pulls out a chair for you with a flourish, bowing dramatically. “Your seat, my dear.”

“Why, thank you, good sir,” you reply, playing along with a grin as you take your seat.

He settles down across from you, and for a moment, the two of you just look at each other, a soft silence settling between you. It’s the kind of silence that feels full, not empty—a shared moment where words aren’t necessary.

“You really outdid yourself,” Sebastian says after taking his first bite. His eyes light up with genuine delight, and it makes your heart swell with pride. “This is amazing.”

“I’m glad you like it,” you say, watching him enjoy the meal you prepared. You can’t help but feel a rush of affection for him in this moment—seeing him so relaxed, savoring the food with that boyish smile you love so much.

The two of you fall into an easy conversation, talking about your day and sharing little stories. At one point, Sebastian leans back in his chair, looking at you with an expression so soft it almost takes your breath away.

“I’ve been looking forward to this all week since there's barely time with work and studies,” he admits quietly, his voice tinged with a kind of vulnerability he doesn’t show often. “Just… having dinner with you, like this. It feels like home.”

You reach across the table, taking his hand in yours. His fingers curl around yours, warm and secure. “Me too,” you say, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. “It’s the best part of my day.”

For a while, you just hold hands, the candlelight flickering between you as you finish your meal. There’s a sense of contentment that wraps around you both like a blanket—cozy, intimate, and full of love.

After dinner, Sebastian insists on helping with the dishes, despite your protests. You end up standing side by side at the sink, elbows bumping playfully as you wash and dry. He steals kisses every chance he gets, brushing his lips against your cheek, your temple, the tip of your nose, making you laugh.

“You’re going to make me drop a plate,” you warn, though you’re smiling so much it’s hard to sound serious.

“Then I’ll catch it,” he promises, pressing a kiss to your temple.

By the time the kitchen is cleaned up, you’re both a little breathless from laughing, your cheeks warm from the shared closeness.

After the dishes are done, you’re both standing side by side, your hands still damp from the soapy water. The kitchen is quiet now, the only light coming from the small candle still flickering on the table, casting a warm, golden glow that dances across Sebastian’s face.

He turns toward you, reaching up to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. His fingers linger there, brushing against your skin, and when you meet his gaze, there’s a different kind of warmth in his eyes—something deeper, a tenderness that makes your heart skip a beat.

“You’ve been amazing tonight.” He says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you for this.”

You smile, leaning into his touch. “You don’t have to thank me, Sebastian. I loved doing this with you.”

There’s a beat of silence, where neither of you moves, just holding each other’s gaze. Then, in a single, smooth motion, he steps closer, his hands sliding to your waist. He pulls you against him, the sudden press of his body igniting a spark of heat between you. You can feel the way his fingers tighten on your hips, firm yet gentle, as if he’s anchoring himself to you.

You tilt your head up, your breath catching in your throat as he leans in, his nose brushing against yours. He’s so close now that you can feel the warmth of his breath fanning across your lips, and when he finally kisses you, it’s slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring the taste of you. It starts sweet, almost tentative, but quickly deepens as the hunger between you both grows.

Sebastian’s hands roam up your sides, tracing the curve of your waist before sliding under your shirt. His touch is warm against your skin, sending a shiver through you. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his pupils blown wide with a desire that mirrors your own. “Is this okay?” he asks, his voice husky, almost breathless.

You nod, your own hands slipping under the hem of his shirt, feeling the hard planes of his stomach. “More than okay.” you murmur, and that’s all the permission he needs.

He kisses you again, deeper this time, his tongue parting your lips as he presses you back against the counter. The edge digs into your hips, but you barely notice, too caught up in the feel of his mouth on yours, the way he’s holding you like you’re the only thing in the world. You gasp against his lips when he grips your thighs, lifting you up onto the counter with surprising ease.

“Sebastian.” You whisper, your voice breaking with a breathy moan as his lips trail down your jaw, nipping gently at the sensitive spot just below your ear. He hums in response, his hands squeezing your thighs as he settles between them, the hard press of his body making your heart race.

You thread your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly, and he groans, the sound vibrating against your skin. His kisses grow more heated, almost desperate, as if he can’t get enough of you. He pulls back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and filled with lust. His forehead rests against yours, and you can feel his breath coming out in short, uneven puffs.

“You drive me crazy,” he admits, his voice rough and raw. His hands slide up your thighs, fingers dipping under your skirt, hooking on the waistband of your underwear. He pauses there, teasing, the pads of his fingers tracing small circles just beneath the fabric. He’s taking his time, savoring the anticipation and the shared intimacy of the moment.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you manage to tease, though your voice is shaky with desire. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, and he lets out a low chuckle, the sound sending a shiver down your spine.

“It’s definitely not a bad thing,” he murmurs, capturing your lips again in a kiss that leaves you breathless. He presses himself harder against you, grinding his hips into yours, and the friction sends a wave of heat coursing through your body. You could feel his growing errection between his legs, pressing between your legs and you had to hold back not to rush it. It’s overwhelming in the best way, the feeling of his firm body fitting perfectly against yours.

His other hand slips further under your shirt, fingertips brushing over your bare skin as he tried to unclip your bra under your clothes and he certainly enjoyed it way too much the way he teased you with his slow delicate movements. He then cups the side of your waist, his thumb grazing just beneath your ribs, tracing gentle patterns. When he looks at you, it’s with an intensity that takes your breath away.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, his voice filled with a raw, unfiltered honesty that makes your chest ache. He lowers his head, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along the line of your throat. His hands move with purpose now, sliding down to push your skirt up. He glances up at you, silently asking for permission, his expression almost reverent.

You nod, your breath hitching as he kneels in front of you. The sight of him on his knees, his hands gently spreading your legs appart, is enough to make your head spin. He takes his time, pressing soft kisses along your inner thighs, his eyes never leaving yours. There’s something worshipful in the way he looks at you, like he’s savoring every moment, every inch of your skin. Before you knew it, he took the piece of fabric of your lace panties between his teeth, pulling them down your legs, putting them in his own pockets.

“Sebastian…” Your voice is barely a whisper, your fingers tangling in his hair as he hooks your legs over his shoulders, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. He grins up at you, a teasing, almost playful smile, before lowering his head.

The first touch of his lips against your most sensitive spot makes you gasp, your back arching involuntarily. He’s slow and deliberate, tasting you with gentle licks that have your entire body trembling. It’s a different kind of intimacy—one that’s both intense and tender, filled with an unspoken love that takes your breath away.

He takes his time, his tongue moving in slow, deliberate strokes, savoring the way your body responds to him. He holds your hips firmly, anchoring you in place as he explores every inch of you, finding the spots that make you shudder and moan his name. You can feel his hot breath against you, the soft hum of pleasure that escapes him as he loses himself in the moment.

Your fingers curl tighter in his hair, tugging him closer as you struggle to keep your voice steady. “Sebastian… please.”

He groans against you, the vibration sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your core. He pulls back slightly, just enough to look up at you, his lips glistening, eyes heavy with desire. “I love it when you say my name like that,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with need. „Keep your eyes on me, darling.“

You’re panting now, your entire body trembling as he dives back in, his tongue moving faster, more insistently. The pleasure builds steadily, a wave of heat coiling low in your belly, making you feel like you’re on the edge of something wonderful. He watches your face as he works, taking in every gasp, every moan, as if it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard.

You can’t hold back any longer. Your body tenses, your thighs clamping around his head as you reach your peak, crying out his name. He doesn’t stop, riding out your release, his tongue gentle now, coaxing you through the aftershocks.

When you finally come back down, your chest heaving, he presses one last soft kiss against your thigh before standing up. He looks at you with a boyish grin, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Was that okay?” he asks, though his smirk tells you he knows exactly how good it was.

You let out a breathless laugh, pulling him into a kiss that’s sweet and grateful, tasting yourself on his lips. “More than okay,” you murmur against his mouth. “You’re incredible.”

He wraps his arms around you, hugging you tightly, his nose nuzzling into your neck as he plants a soft kiss there. “I love you,” he whispers, the words like a quiet promise against your skin.

You smile, pressing a kiss to his temple, your fingers gently stroking through his hair. “I love you too.”

Without another word, he scoops you up effortlessly, his hands strong and sure as he lifts you off the counter. You let out a surprised laugh, clinging to him, your arms looping around his neck as he cradles you against his chest.

“Taking this somewhere more comfortable,” he murmurs, pressing a quick, teasing kiss to your forehead. The look in his eyes is smoldering, filled with an unspoken promise of what’s to come. He carries you through the dimly lit hallway, each step deliberate, the anticipation building between you both. Your heart races, beating in time with his, the air thick with the shared desire that crackles like electricity.

As you reach the bedroom, he nudges the door open with his foot, the soft light from the hallway spilling in and casting a golden glow over the bed. He sets you down gently, his hands lingering on your hips as he leans down to kiss you again. It’s slower this time, a lazy, lingering kiss that’s filled with a tenderness that makes your chest ache.

“You’re too good to me,” you whisper against his lips, your hands already slipping under the fabric of his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips.

He chuckles, low and sweet, as he pulls back just enough to tug his shirt over his head. “I’m exactly as good as you deserve,” he replies, his voice husky. He tosses the shirt aside carelessly, and your eyes roam over his exposed chest, the play of light and shadow accentuating the muscles there. He looks at you like he’s drinking you in, savoring every detail, every expression on your face.

Your fingers find the button of his jeans, working it open as he watches you with a hooded gaze. He helps you, shrugging out of his pants and kicking them aside, leaving him in just his boxers. The sight of him—flushed, breathing heavily, and looking at you with a mixture of adoration and want—makes a wave of heat wash over you.

You lean back against the pillows, propping yourself up as he climbs onto the bed, his knees sinking into the mattress. He’s on you in an instant, his hands gently prying your shirt off, his lips trailing soft kisses down your collarbone as he peels the fabric away. When you’re bare before him, he pauses, taking a moment just to look at you. The way his eyes drink you in makes you feel cherished, like you’re the most precious thing in the world to him.

“Perfect,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your sternum, then another lower, right over your heart. You can feel the heat of his breath against your skin, the press of his lips sending shivers through your body.

His hands trail down your sides, fingers close between your legs. He raises his eyes to yours, silently asking for permission once again. When you give a small, eager nod, he pushes them in, toying with you, his gaze never leaving yours.

He presses closer, his bare chest flush against yours now, skin against skin. The warmth of him seeps into you, grounding you even as your heart feels like it might burst from the intensity of the moment. You can feel every hard line of his body, the way he fits so perfectly against you, like you were made for each other.

“Sebastian.” you whisper, his name falling from your lips like a prayer. You reach up, cupping his cheek in your hand, and he turns his head to press a kiss to your palm.

“I’ve got you.” He murmurs, his voice filled with love and a gentle promise. He dips his head down, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s slow and deep, his hand, pulled out of you, sliding down your side to grip your thigh, pulling you closer. His other hand roams up your body, fingers splaying out on your chest as he squeezed the skin.

You shiver as he shifts, settling between your legs, the press of his body sending a wave of warmth through you. He grinds against you slowly, the friction delicious, and you gasp into his mouth, your nails digging into his back. He groans, a deep, guttural sound that reverberates through his chest, and you can feel the restrained need in the way he moves.

“Tell me what you want,” he breathes against your lips, his forehead resting against yours as he gazes down at you with an intensity that makes your breath hitch.

“You,” you reply, your voice barely a whisper. “I want you.”

He kisses you again, hard and fervent, his hips pressing into yours in a slow, rolling motion that has you arching up against him, seeking more. You can feel his smile against your lips, a soft, tender curve that’s full of love.

“I’m all yours,” he whispers back, his words like a promise. “Tonight and always.”

He moves slowly, unhurried, taking his time to explore every inch of your body with his lips and hands, like he’s memorizing every curve, every shiver. The room is filled with the sound of your shared breaths, the soft sighs and gasps as he touches you, holds you, loves you.

„Promise I always will.“ Those where his last words before you were able to feel him close to your entrance, his tip stroking you gently before he pushed in.

The next morning came in silence, but it wasn’t the kind you loved. It wasn’t the quiet murmur of the world still asleep, or the gentle hum of life waking up slowly. It was the kind of silence that felt heavy, almost suffocating. The kind that made you realize something was missing before you even opened your eyes.

You shifted, reaching out instinctively to the other side of the bed, expecting the familiar warmth of Sebastian’s body curled up against yours. Instead, your fingers met cold, empty sheets. Your heart sank a little, the small knot of disappointment tightening in your chest.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. Mornings were your favorite time together, the one part of the day where you could both be unguarded, lazy, and wrapped up in each other without any of life’s distractions pulling you apart. You loved waking up to the smell of freshly brewed coffee, the sound of the kettle whistling in the kitchen as Sebastian made you breakfast, or the soft kiss he’d press to your forehead before you were even fully awake. It was the sweetest part of your life—those quiet, precious moments that belonged only to the two of you.

But today, there was none of that. Just an empty bed and a lingering chill where his warmth should have been. You opened your eyes, blinking at the soft light filtering through the curtains, half expecting to see him standing there, smiling at you like he always did. But the room was empty.

You sat up slowly, the sheets pooling around your waist, and glanced around as if he might suddenly appear. The pillow next to you was still dented from where he’d slept, but it was cool to the touch now, the scent of him fading away. You pressed your face into it anyway, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply, trying to hold on to that small piece of him for a moment longer.

„Sebastian?“ You called out, hoping for any kind of reaction, your voice filling the room.

It didn’t make sense. He hadn’t mentioned leaving early. He hadn’t said anything about having plans today. Your mind raced with possibilities, each one leaving a hollow ache in its wake. Maybe he’d just stepped out for a bit, you told yourself. He’d be back any minute, you were sure of it.

But as you swung your legs over the side of the bed, the cold floor beneath your feet seemed to echo the emptiness inside you. You wrapped the blanket tighter around your shoulders, trying to chase away the chill. It wasn’t just the cold of the room—it was the cold that came from waking up alone when you’d gotten so used to waking up together. This felt oddly strange.

You couldn’t help but remember the way it usually was. How he’d pull you closer, mumbling half-asleep compliments against your neck. How his fingers would trace lazy patterns on your skin, making you feel like you were the only person in the world. How you’d both lie there for as long as you could, wrapped up in the warmth of each other, talking softly or just sharing comfortable silence.

You glanced at the clock on the nightstand, hoping you were wrong. Hoping maybe you’d just woken up before him, and he’d be back any second, slipping into bed beside you with a sheepish smile and a kiss on your cheek. But the clock told a different story. It was already late—later than he’d ever leave without saying something.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to stand up, your legs feeling shaky beneath you. The house felt colder without him here, and the empty quiet of it pressed in on you. You padded out into the hallway, calling his name softly once more, half expecting him to pop his head out from the kitchen, teasing you for being so worried.

But there was no answer. No kettle boiling, no clink of mugs, no smell of coffee in the air. Just the empty echo of your voice.

You leaned against the doorframe, closing your eyes and letting the silence wash over you. The ache in your chest felt heavier now, settling like a stone. It was a small thing, really—waking up alone just once—but it felt like a shadow of something bigger. A reminder of how much you needed him, of how much his presence had become a part of your mornings, your days, your everything.

You pulled the blanket tighter around yourself, rubbing your hands over your arms in a vain attempt to warm up. He’d be back soon, you told yourself again. He had to be. He wouldn’t just leave like this, not without a word. He wouldn’t take away the part of the morning you loved the most—the part where you woke up next to him and felt like everything was right in the world.

But as you stood there, staring at the empty hallway, you couldn’t help the small, creeping worry that maybe today was different. Maybe today was the start of a morning you’d have to face alone, a morning without him to hold you and make you feel whole.

And that thought made the quiet feel so much colder.

The quiet stretched longer than it should have, and with each passing second, the doubt in your mind grew. You couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong, but you tried to brush it off. You told yourself it was nothing—Sebastian had probably just gone out to grab breakfast or coffee. It was a Saturday, after all, and the world outside was just starting to wake up. But as you moved through the house, something felt off.

You made your way to the entryway, half-expecting to see him standing there, pulling on his shoes or grabbing his coat. But the spot where his jacket usually hung was empty. The shoes he always left by the door were gone too. You frowned, the empty space making your stomach twist in a way you couldn’t quite explain. Maybe he had left early, maybe to pick up something for breakfast, or maybe to run an errand.

You convinced yourself that’s what had happened. He’d just stepped out. He’d be back soon. You had to believe that. You turned away from the door and walked back through the house, glancing around for any sign of him. The stillness pressed against you like a heavy blanket, and despite your best efforts to remain calm, you couldn’t shake the unease gnawing at you.

As you entered the living room, you caught sight of the bookshelf against the wall. Your eyes narrowed, and your heart began to race. The shelf was slightly askew, the way it was when Sebastian had been messing around with it. But it wasn’t just the shelf that caught your attention—it was the hidden compartment behind it. Your safe. It was slightly open.

You had always hidden it carefully, knowing it was the one place where you kept the money that had become so important to Sebastian and you over the past few months. But now, standing there, you felt a cold shiver race down your spine. You walked over to it, and as you opened the compartment fully, your stomach dropped. The safe was empty. Your heart skipped a beat, and panic surged through you. The money—everything you had been so careful to keep safe—was gone. The only explanation you could think of was that Sebastian had taken it. He had taken everything. Your mind screamed at you, but your body felt frozen, unable to move.

Your breath quickened, and the room around you began to spin. A knot twisted in your chest, suffocating you, and your mind started to race with the worst possible thoughts. Had he really done this? Had he taken everything and left me? Your hands shook as you backed away from the shelf, your mind still desperately trying to make sense of what was happening. You had trusted him, believed in him, and now all you could think of was how everything had felt too perfect—like it had all been a lie. Any kind of trust was lost as you couldn't come up with a single good reason why he should take the money and disappear.

You moved quickly, heart pounding in your chest, darting around the house as if searching for something, anything that would prove you were wrong. You tore through the living room, the kitchen, even the bathroom. But there was nothing—no sign of him, no explanation for what had happened. The silence pressed down harder, and the walls around you seemed to close in, suffocating you with the weight of your thoughts.

Suddenly, the house felt too big, too empty. Every sound, every small creak, seemed amplified in the stillness. You felt like you were drowning in your own panic. Your chest tightened, and your breathing became shallow, erratic. Your vision blurred as the tears began to well up in your eyes. It was all happening too fast, too overwhelming.

You collapsed to your knees on the floor, hands gripping your hair as your mind spiraled. No, he wouldn’t. He couldn’t. The thought that Sebastian had taken the money, that he had left you with nothing but confusion and betrayal, shattered something inside you. Everything you had shared—the late-night talks, the laughter, the mornings together—it all felt like a cruel joke now.

"Sebastian!" you screamed, the word ripping from your throat, raw and desperate. "Where are you?"

But there was no answer. Just the emptiness, the silence stretching longer and longer, pulling you further into a dark pit of fear and confusion. You curled in on yourself, hands over your face, tears streaming freely as the weight of it all pressed down on you. How could you have been so wrong? How could you have let yourself trust him so completely, only for him to take everything away in one cruel moment?

The house felt like a prison. Every corner, every empty space reminded you of what you had lost, what had been stolen from you. And as the panic surged, all you could think was that he had left, and you were alone, with nothing but the aching hollow in your chest to show for it.

You cried, helplessly, uncontrollably, the sobs shaking your entire body. Nothing made sense. Nothing could bring you the comfort you craved. And all you could do was scream, hoping for some kind of answer that would never come.

Sebastian woke up first, the quiet morning light filtering through the curtains, casting soft shadows across the room. His gaze immediately landed on you—peacefully asleep beside him. The sight of you, tangled in the sheets with your hair messy from the night, made his heart skip a beat. There was something about you, something that made everything else in the world fade away when he was with you.

He could still feel the warmth of your body against his, the weight of your presence next to him, and the quiet intimacy that seemed to wrap around both of you. The night had been perfect, full of laughter and closeness, but in that moment, as he watched you sleep, something more profound settled in him.

He realized, with a clarity that shocked him, that he didn’t just want this—this closeness, this joy, this love—he wanted all of it. Forever. It was like a light bulb turning on in his head, and it was undeniable. He wanted to spend his life with you. The idea of waking up to this—waking up to *you*—for every day to come filled him with a warmth that he couldn’t ignore.

Sebastian’s chest tightened with a mix of excitement and nerves, the weight of the realization both exhilarating and humbling. He knew, deep down, that this wasn’t just a fleeting thought or a momentary rush of emotion. It was real. He wanted to build a life with you. He wanted to promise you forever, no matter what.

Carefully, he slipped out of bed, trying not to disturb you. The sheets rustled gently as he moved, and he paused, watching you for a moment longer, a soft smile tugging at his lips. He admired how peaceful you looked, how safe and content, lost in dreams. He didn’t want to wake you yet. This moment, this quiet, was just for him.

Sebastian stood, stretching his limbs and glancing around the room. His heart still pounded with the weight of what he was about to do. He knew he had to do it. He had to show you that he wasn’t just saying the words when he said he loved you. He was going to prove it.

Moving quietly to the dresser, he pulled on his clothes, careful not to make any noise. His hands trembled slightly, the excitement of the decision making his heart race. He knew what he had to do, and nothing was going to stop him.

His eyes flicked toward the shelf where you kept your safe, his heart skipping. He had always known about it—he respected it, and he knew it was important to you. But today, today was different. He didn’t hesitate for a second as he opened the shelf, taking out the safe. The contents of the small box—money that had been saved for a future you’d both been dreaming of—meant something far more than just savings now. It was a way for him to take the first step toward that future. The life he wanted to build with you.

Sebastian swallowed hard as he pulled the money out, placing it carefully in his pocket. His chest tightened, but it wasn’t from nerves about what he was doing—it was from the overwhelming realization that he was making the choice to move forward, to ask for forever. He knew he was going to spend the rest of his life with you, and that thought was everything.

He turned, quietly making his way out of the room and into the hallway. The city outside was just beginning to wake up, the soft hum of the early morning a comforting backdrop to his racing thoughts. His mind was focused on one thing now: making sure the ring was perfect, making sure it was everything you deserved. He’d save the money for the rest of your life together later.

But today, today was the start of everything.

Sebastian made his way to the jewelry store, each step feeling more like a confirmation of what he had known all along. He was doing the right thing, and no matter how many details needed to be perfect, all that mattered was the love he felt for you. He had to make sure that the ring was just as unforgettable as the way you made him feel every single day.

As he stepped into the shop, his eyes immediately scanned the selection, his mind fixed solely on one goal. He didn’t need to search for long. The moment his eyes landed on a beautiful, delicate ring, a diamond set against a simple gold band, he knew it was the one. He imagined the way it would look on your finger, how it would symbolize everything he wanted to say but didn’t always have the words for.

With a deep breath, he picked it up, his fingers brushing against the smooth surface of the box. He paid, his hands shaking slightly with anticipation, excitement thrumming through his veins.

All he had to do now was get home to you. To show you how much you meant to him, how much he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you.

The entire time he was gone, his mind was consumed with thoughts of you. He knew when he returned, it wouldn’t just be another ordinary morning. It would be the start of a new chapter. A chapter that began with love, and ended with forever.

But he never returned.

The metallic scent of the Hadal Blacksite hung thick in the air, its sterile walls casting a cold, lifeless atmosphere around you. The labyrinth of vents you crawled through felt like a maze, twisting and turning with no end in sight. Your knees scraped against the jagged metal, but you didn’t stop. You couldn’t stop. Every inch of your body screamed in exhaustion, but your mission kept you moving. The crystal—the one thing you needed to find—was somewhere within this forsaken facility. But you had to survive long enough to retrieve it.

The deeper you went, the darker it became. The vents barely let any light in, and the only sound you could hear was the echo of your own breathing, shallow and frantic. You couldn’t afford to think about how you got here, how everything had spiraled out of control, or the faces you had once known. All you could focus on was the present, the objective. The crystal.

Your life had been shattered after Sebastian’s betrayal. You had fallen so far, so fast, that it felt like the very ground beneath you had disappeared. Now, here you were, crawling through the grim, unforgiving halls of the Blacksite—nothing more than a shadow, a criminal. Desperate. The crushing weight of debt and hunger had driven you beyond what you once thought possible.

Money had been the catalyst for your descent into this hellish place. The lack of it, the constant struggle to survive, had broken you down piece by piece until you were willing to do anything—anything—to escape the suffocating grasp of poverty. Your morals, your dignity, everything you once held dear, faded into the background as you scraped together whatever scraps of hope you could find.

And then you crossed the line.

It was never supposed to come to this. You had promised yourself you wouldn’t risk it all, but desperation had a way of warping your sense of reason. You had stepped into the Blacksite’s underbelly, risking your life, hoping the payoff would be enough to turn everything around. But all you had now were regrets, each one more suffocating than the last.

You had never imagined it would end like this.

It was hard to tell how much time had passed when you finally reached an access hatch, a simple vent. You didn’t hesitate, swinging it open and slipping through into the dimly lit room. Your eyes scanned the space, still disoriented from the crawl, but something stopped you dead in your tracks.

It was a shop.

A small, oddly shop tucked away in the heart of the Blacksite. The walls were lined with shelves—an assortment of strange, vintage devices, dusty trinkets, and knick-knacks. In the corner, a glass display case held a collection of unmarked items, their importance completely unknown to you. It was surreal, this oasis in the middle of a place so cold and hostile.

But what made your breath catch in your throat wasn’t the strange setting or the items on the shelves.

You froze, heart pounding in your chest as your eyes locked onto him. Sebastian. But he wasn’t the man you had once known—he wasn’t even close. His appearance was twisted, distorted, as though the years had been unkind, carving deep lines of pain into his face. His eyes, once warm and familiar, now held a cold emptiness, an unrecognizable void inbetween the fluorescent glow. His skin was pale gray, unnatural, like something out of a nightmare, and his presence felt wrong, as though he had been reshaped by something dark and uncontrollable. The shock hit you like a physical blow, your stomach churning as you tried to pull back, your legs shaking with the instinct to flee. You didn't even dared to comment the rest of his body. This wasn’t the man you loved: this wasn’t even someone you could recognize. A wave of disgust washed over you, mingling with the terror that gripped your throat. You couldn’t even process it—your mind couldn't make sense of the grotesque transformation. All you could do was stumble backward, every inch of your body telling you to get away, to escape this horrible, unrecognizable figure before you.

You took a slow, cautious step backward, your breath shallow and erratic. Every movement felt like an eternity as you tried to distance yourself from the nightmare standing in front of you. You couldn’t take your eyes off him, the twisted version of Sebastian, but at the same time, you couldn’t look at him. The terror in your chest made your limbs heavy, your mind clouded with panic, and your heart ached in a way that made it hard to breathe.

You moved quietly, silently, as though retreating would give you the space to think, to make sense of this madness. Your feet stumbled awkwardly, barely making any sound against the cold floor—until they didn’t. Your foot caught on something—an object, a piece of debris that you hadn’t noticed before—and in a split second, your body was crashing to the ground.

The impact sent a sharp pain through your limbs, and before you could even react, you froze, utterly paralyzed by the noise. The sound of your fall echoed through the room, and in an instant, you felt his presence shift. His breathing grew louder, and then he turned.

For a moment, everything stopped. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t breathe. Every muscle in your body locked up as you lay there, immobilized by fear.

And then he saw you.

His eyes, once hollow, suddenly flickered with recognition. His face—so alien just moments before—shifted into something you could hardly process. A look of utter shock and joy crossed his features, his mouth parting in disbelief, displaying his sharp teeth. He moved toward you cautiously, his voice hoarse but filled with an overwhelming sense of relief.

“Y-You...?” His voice trembled, almost in awe. His eyes darted over your face, his expression softening as the pieces of recognition fell into place. “No way… is it really you?”

A rush of emotion flooded through him—something you hadn’t seen in a long time, something raw and vulnerable. His face broke into an unrestrained, radiant smile, and for the first time, you saw the man you once knew beneath all the horror. It was a moment of pure, unfiltered joy that made your stomach twist in confusion and disbelief.

You could barely move, still too stunned to comprehend the sight before you, but his reaction was enough to make your chest tighten, a jolt of emotion hitting you like a wave, not in a good way.

He was happy to see you. And somehow, in this strange, twisted reality, that felt even more terrifying.

Sebastian moved closer, his hands trembling slightly as he reached for the pocket of his coat, pulling something out with an eager grin. The object glinted in his hand, and for a moment, the sight of the small box made your heart skip with fear. But you couldn’t process it, couldn’t make sense of the words he was about to speak.

“I—I can’t believe this… I’ve missed you so much,” he rambled, his voice a mix of relief and confusion. His gaze never left you, his eyes soft but filled with an almost frantic urgency, as though he couldn’t believe you were really here. “I thought I’d never see you again, after everything—after how much I messed up. I don’t know how you ended up down here, I don’t understand, but… I don’t care.”

His words poured out, faster than he could catch them, like he had been waiting for this moment, this reunion, for so long. He seemed out of breath, his chest heaving slightly as he spoke, the joy barely contained in his voice. His behaviour felt so off on so many different levels, not lovingly like you knew him back then, but obsessive in the worst way.

“I’ve been waiting for this… for you,” he continued, a wild light in his eyes. “I told myself I’d come back to you, no matter what. No matter what happened or what I had to go through… you were always on my mind. I never stopped thinking about you. I—" His voice caught, almost as if the words were too much to handle.

He paused for a moment, his face suddenly serious, as if weighing something. Then, with a flourish, he opened the small box in his hand, revealing the engagement ring nestled inside, covered in some dry blood and dirt. His smile stretched wide, a mix of pride and happiness in his eyes. “I was going to ask you... I wanted to ask you... I’ve been saving for so long. I—” He glanced at you, his expression filled with an almost childlike excitement. “I wanted to give you this. I wanted to promise you everything. I know things were messed up, but you *are* everything to me. And I—I need you to know that.”

But you couldn’t hear his words anymore. They were distant, muffled, as if the world around you was closing in. Your chest felt hollow, and despite the tears that had begun to fall silently down your face, your body felt numb. The shock of seeing him again, the confusion, the betrayal—it was too much to handle. You didn’t know whether to scream or to run, but your body refused to move.

His words—so full of joy, so hopeful—made everything worse. The engagement ring, the smiles, the words of love—they all felt like knives in your chest. Your throat tightened, and the tears came harder, spilling down your cheeks in a silent torrent as you stared at him, completely incapable of responding.

He kept talking, his words becoming a blur. He didn’t seem to notice, or maybe he didn’t care, that you weren’t saying anything back, that you weren’t moving. His smile remained wide and genuine, as if he was living some dream he had longed for. But for you? It was a nightmare that you couldn’t escape, not even if you tried.

You were deadly terrified of him.

You don't know who was standing in front of you anymore.

„GET AWAY FROM ME!“

#⊹₊⟡⋆satori.speaks #⊹₊⟡⋆writings #pressure x reader #roblox pressure x reader #roblox pressure #pressure #sebastian solace x reader #sebastian solace

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chogiwow · 4 months ago

Text

it’s not a metaphor, this ache.

pairing: jay x reader

wc: 3.5k+

genre: fluff, suggestive, angst

warnings: allusions to sex (not described), jay eats reader out and well that’s been detailed out somewhat…vulnerable moments between yn and jay, jay just wants to kneel for yn whenever he can he’s devoted like that

a/n: conceptual writing – just need a man to get on his knees and worship me

summary: all the times jay has gotten down on his knees for you.

one – tending to your wounds.

the tiles under your bare feet are cool, a feeling that is pleasant with the onset of spring, but jay meticulously lifts your limb and places it in his lap. his own knees resting against the floor as he carefully inspects the patch of crimson spots on your skin. nimble fingers gently maneuver your feet, unconsciously stroking the skin that he has come to love with its scratches and past wounds; and yet, he frowns at the promising little wound that will definitely scar. well, he’ll love you regardless, broken skin and all.

“i told you not to rush,” his reproval is a grunting complaint, even as he softly blows on the antiseptic he applies, “it’s going to scar now.”

his breath fans against your skin, a fleeting sensation that sends a shiver up your spine, though you don’t move away. you stay quiet, his words more comforting than painful, your feet warm in his lap, the fabric of his jeans tickling your skin. you let him patch you up, soothe the burn and place the tiniest most gentle kiss when he’s done. it’s like a reward for you, and yet you think you are debted to this man your entire life. this man that kneels for you.

the antiseptic dries, leaving behind a faint sting, but jay’s touch is steady, grounding. his thumb brushes over the bandage, as if testing its security, as if reassuring himself that he’s done everything he can.

his knees remain pressed against the tile, unmoving, like he belongs there—like this is where he has always belonged. it’s a thought you shouldn’t entertain, not when his hands still cradle your foot with such undeserved reverence. but you do. you let yourself imagine a lifetime of this, of his fingers tracing over old scars and new wounds, of the way he kneels before you without question, without hesitation, like it’s second nature.

a silence settles between you, thick and weighty, but not uncomfortable. the kind of silence that speaks volumes, filling the gaps between words neither of you dare to say out loud.

jay exhales softly, finally lifting his head to meet your gaze. his eyes are dark in the dim light, filled with something unreadable, something you don’t think you’re ready to decipher. his fingers tighten ever so slightly around your ankle, grounding himself just as much as you.

“you’ll be more careful next time?” he asks, and you know he already knows the answer.

still, you nod. it’s a harmless lie he lets you indulge in.

jay huffs, the corner of his lips twitching upward in something close to a smile, though there’s still a shadow of worry behind it. his hand gives your ankle one last squeeze before he lets go, but he doesn’t move away just yet. instead, he stays there, close, his presence a quiet reassurance.

you wonder if he knows. if he realizes that it’s not just the wounds on your skin that he tends to, but the invisible ones too. the ones that linger beneath the surface, the ones you don’t know how to heal on your own.

and maybe he does. maybe that’s why he stays.

two – apologising.

you can’t stay too mad at him, nor for too long.

jay rarely upsets you, in fact, he doesn’t really have a reason to. its in the playful moments of life that you two bicker but those can hardly be called fights. they’re anything but fights. but very rarely, moments of doubts and frustration creep up. and when they do, you’re both left trying to lift the burden of its pressure pushing down on your shoulders and those moments are tense.

your house gets reduced to the four walls they physically embody, trying to keep your emotions together before they burst at the seams and rip though your hearts in torrential waves.

jay isn’t one for conflict, he doesn’t give you a reason to be upset at him irrationally. when something’s wrong, it's both your faults, and you know it all too well. you also know that no matter what, jay is going to be the first to try and patch things up. he’ll give you plenty of time to first simmer and fester in your feelings, then he’ll approach you calmly, parting a path through the angry waves of your emotions that threaten to drown him, if not for your own hands that keep him afloat slightly begrudgingly. afterall, you love him.

when jay reaches your shore, he’s careful to step on the hot sand that is equally burning, your stubborn back leaving little to his imagination but he’d deem himself royally fucked if he lets this fester any longer.

you’d be on the bed, on the couch, sitting in your chair – it doesn’t matter; he’s already kneeling down, taking a seat right beside you. you tense at the unintentional brush of clothes, the tingling across your skin where he touches you cautiously and a preparatory sigh that escapes your lips.

jay doesn’t speak right away. he knows better than to push, to try and pry your thoughts out of you before you’re ready. instead, he waits – patient, steady, just there.

his fingers brush against your knee, barely a touch, as if testing the waters. you don’t pull away. it’s not forgiveness, not yet, but it’s something.

“i don’t like fighting with you,” he says, voice quiet, almost tentative. “i know i messed up.”

you exhale, a slow, measured breath, as if trying to keep yourself together. he’s always like this – kind, even when he shouldn’t be, even when you wish he’d argue back, give you a reason to stay mad. but jay isn’t built that way. he doesn’t fight with fire. he fights with patience, with gentle persistence, with the kind of love that makes your resolve crack at the edges. with a kind of gentleness that you’re not accustomed to.

“it’s not just you,” you murmur, because it’s true.

his hand inches closer, fingers curling lightly around yours. you don’t grip back, not yet, but you don’t pull away either. his touch lingers, grounding. but you let him pull his body closer, his head finding purchase in the curl of your lap, pressing against your waist as if would just become a part of you if he could.

your fingers tighten around his, just enough to let him know that you’re done being upset, that he’s already won you over without even trying. his lips twitch, almost a smile, but he doesn’t gloat, doesn’t tease.

he only squeezes your hand in return, as if sealing the unspoken truce between you.

three – falling apart.

jay wears his heart on his sleeves when it comes to you. still it is the carefully curated moments of happiness and adoration that he bares. the quieter, more turbulent ones, he keeps them hidden well away from you.

until he can’t anymore.

it happens on an evening like any other. the sky outside is a muted shade of blue, the kind that lingers before dusk fully settles in. the air hums with the distant sounds of life – cars rumbling past, a faint murmur of laughter from somewhere beyond your window – but inside, within the confines of your space, there is only quiet.

jay stands in the doorway, his silhouette backlit by the hallway light, shoulders slightly slumped, hands tucked into the pockets of his hoodie like he’s holding himself together. something in his posture makes you pause. the way he lingers, hesitant, as if he’s unsure whether to step forward or turn away entirely.

“hey,” you call softly, setting your book down. “come here.”

he exhales, a slow and measured thing, before finally moving. he walks toward you, each step deliberate, until he’s close enough that you can see the tension bracketing his jaw, the exhaustion settled deep in his features. he looks tired – not just physically, but in the way that seeps into the bones, that wears a person down from the inside out.

you expect him to sit beside you, to fold himself into the space next to you like he always does, but instead, he kneels. on the cold floor that could hardly be comfortable, he kneels and presses his forehead against your thigh, hands coming up to grip the fabric of your sweater like it’s the only thing anchoring him. his face is hidden in your sweater, you feel him inhale deeply. then a shuddering breath escapes his lips; his fingers tremble across your back, pulling you closer this time, digging his face deeper into your touch.

you go still, caught off guard by the quiet desperation in his touch.

“jay?” you murmur, threading your fingers through his hair. he’s warm beneath your touch, the strands soft, slightly disheveled. “what’s wrong?”

he shakes his head, a barely-there movement, but you feel it – the way he presses closer, the way his hands migrate around your waist, circling them around your frame, fingers tightening.

“i don’t know,” he admits, voice low and rough. “i just–” a pause. a breath. then, softer, “can i stay like this for a little while?”

your chest tightens.

you don’t ask any more questions, don’t press him for answers he’s not ready to give. instead, you let him stay. let him curl into you, his weight warm and solid against your side. you trace gentle patterns along his back, slow and soothing, the way he’s done for you countless times before.

time stretches, marked only by the quiet rhythm of your breathing. eventually, his grip loosens, his body relaxing ever so slightly, though he doesn’t move away.

“you don’t have to be okay all the time,” you say, barely above a whisper.

jay lets out a shaky exhale, something between a sigh and a laugh, though there’s no real amusement in it. “i know,” he murmurs, but you don’t think he really does. not yet.

so you hold him a little tighter, hoping he’ll understand it one day.

five – comforting you.

and when the tables turn, which is quite often, because you seemingly shut your mind off whenever jay’s nearby and blindly trust yourself in his hands, he’s always there to hold on to you.

he makes it that simple to let go of your reservations and fall into his embrace.

it happens naturally, like breathing, like second nature. he doesn’t ask, doesn’t pry – he simply knows. the way your shoulders slump just a little more than usual, the way your fingers twitch like they need something to hold onto but you won’t reach out first. the way your silence carries more weight on some days, heavier than words ever could.

jay notices it all.

tonight is no different. the world outside is damp with lingering rain, the scent of petrichor weaving through the half-open window. the apartment is quiet save for the soft hum of the refrigerator and the faint crackle of a candle burning on the coffee table. you’ve retired into the corner of the couch, legs tucked beneath you, hands supporting your head, body curled up into a fetal position, your gaze unfocused on the television screen playing something neither of you are really watching.

jay, from his place in the kitchen, doesn’t say anything at first. he finishes pouring a cup of tea, setting it aside for a moment before finally crossing the room. he doesn’t ask if you’re okay – he already knows the answer.

instead, he lowers himself in front of you, spine curling gently to meet your eyes that blink back at him in a naive confusion, but it's all there written for him clearly in the way they become glassy the second he offers you a gentle smile, his fingers tangling themselves in your hair. his lips press hot against your cold cheeks, a reassuring kiss that makes your eyes flutter.

you hesitate for only a second before letting yourself lean into him, burying your face against his shoulder. his arm wraps around you instantly, hand settling against your back in slow, steady strokes. he doesn’t rush you, doesn’t try to fix anything with hurried words or misplaced solutions. he just holds you, like he’s willing to carry whatever weight you can’t bear tonight.

“i don’t know why i feel like this,” you mumble, voice muffled against the fabric of his hoodie.

jay hums softly, resting his chin atop your head. “you don’t have to know,” he says simply. “you just have to let yourself feel it.”

you exhale, shuddering slightly, and he pulls you closer. there’s something about the way he does it – so naturally, without expectation or hesitation – that makes the knot in your chest loosen just a little. like it’s okay to be vulnerable here, to be seen without needing to explain.

time stretches between you, measured only by the steady rise and fall of his breathing, by the way his fingers trace slow, absentminded circles against your back. at some point, he shifts slightly, pressing another gentle kiss to the top of your head, lingering for just a second longer than necessary.

you close your eyes, breathing him in.

and just like that, the world feels a little quieter. a little easier to bear.

six – fixing the hem of your dress.

it’s also the much more intimate moments that linger in the pockets of transitional time. he brings a calm to the chaos of your daily life – a steady presence amidst the frantic rhythm of your mornings, the restless energy of your nights. a moment of composure when you’re rushing about, stressing over the final touches to your makeup, your hair, worrying over a wrinkle on your dress that refuses to smooth out no matter how many times you tug at it.

jay watches from where he sits at the edge of the bed, amused but patient. he’s already ready, dressed in his usual effortless way, the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows, his hands clasped loosely between his legs. he could offer to help, but he knows you’d only wave him off, muttering about how you have it under control.

so he waits.

and sure enough, a moment later, you huff in frustration, turning towards him with the tiniest of frowns. “this won’t smooth out,” you say, tugging at the hem of your dress again. “i should’ve worn something else.”

jay only shakes his head, standing. “come here,” he murmurs.

you hesitate, but only for a second before stepping toward him. he meets you halfway, hands already reaching for you. but not to pull you into an embrace, not yet. his knees bend of their own accord, his own dress pants rustling as he kneels before you and it takes your all to hold yourself back. his fingers find the hem of your dress, his touch featherlight as he works on the worrying patch across your thigh.

the sight alone makes something stir in your chest.

he smooths the fabric carefully, methodically, as if this is the most important thing he’s done all day. the pads of his fingers graze over the material, flattening every imperfection with quiet precision. you could do this yourself – you should do this yourself – but somehow, standing here with his hands on you, with the warmth of his palms ghosting over your thighs as he works, you feel yourself settle.

“there,” he murmurs after a moment, brushing away an invisible crease. “perfect.”

you exhale, tension easing from your shoulders, but he doesn’t get up just yet. instead, his hands shift slightly, fingers curling gently against the sides of your legs, his thumbs brushing over the smooth skin above your knees. it’s not intentional, you think, but it lingers – this moment, this closeness.

jay tilts his head up to look at you then, a small, knowing smile playing at his lips. “better?”

you nod, not trusting your voice. you nod, because you see the glint in his eyes, the way he kneels and looks up at you like his prayers to the god he worships have come true.

maybe it is intentional, the way he submits himself to your service this easily, only to have you crumble in his hold instead. then, as if sensing the shift in the air, he leans in, pressing a soft kiss against the fabric of your dress just above your knee. it’s brief, fleeting, but it sends warmth curling through your veins, your breath catching slightly, toes curling painfully.

when he finally stands, his hands find your waist, steadying you, grounding you. “you always look beautiful,” he murmurs, smoothing his palms over your sides. “wrinkles and all.”

you roll your eyes, but your heart stumbles in your chest.

and just like that, the chaos of your day feels a little less overwhelming.

seven – truly worshipping you.

if there’s one thing you know, it’s the way jay always acts like he knows exactly what he’s doing. and he probably does. every movement is deliberate, every touch measured. he moves with intent – slow, sure, devastating in his precision. every press of his lips against your bare skin is a searing touch, a promise that leaves you breathless.

you’re long gone, of course. from the second his lips found yours, from the moment his hands gripped your sides, fingers digging into the soft fabric of your dress – wrinkling it, ruining the careful smoothness he had so patiently fixed not even hours ago. but you don’t care. you couldn’t, not when jay has always been more intoxicating than the anticipation of any perfect moment.

his hands are warm, wandering, mapping out the curve of your body as if he’s relearning you all over again. there’s reverence in the way he touches you, in the way he presses his lips to your jaw, your throat, the space just below your ear where he knows you shudder. his name leaves your lips in a breathless whisper, and he hums against your skin, like he’s committing the sound to memory.

he never rushes. he never has to. because he knows exactly how to unravel you, how to coax the tension from your body with the press of his fingers, the slow drag of his mouth. he lets his hands slip lower, skimming over the fabric he had so carefully straightened earlier, only to now push it up, exposing more of you to him.

and then he looks at you. really looks at you.

his eyes are dark, heavy with something unspoken, something that simmers just beneath the surface. you feel it in the way his hands tighten against your hips, in the way his breath is just a little unsteady when he exhales.

and just like that, he’s kneeling again, this time at the end of the bed that you lay on top of, naked and writhing in pleasure and ecstasy. your fingers curl themselves around his hair, his head buried in the heat of your body that only he brings about. every kiss, every moan, every little push of his head sends you into ecstasy you only yearn more of.

his hands grip your thighs, holding them for you, never letting you fend for yourself as you willingly submit yourself to his love and touches.

his touch is both firm and reverent, like he’s worshipping something sacred. he holds you like you might break, but his mouth tells a different story – hungry, insatiable, taking everything you offer and demanding more.

you can feel the way his breath stirs against your skin, hot and uneven, the sound of it mingling with your own quiet whimpers. his hands tighten on your thighs, thumbs pressing into soft flesh, keeping you steady, keeping you right where he wants you. and you let him, let yourself sink deeper into the pleasure of his touch, his lips, his tongue tracing reverent paths along your skin.

your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling, pleading. he groans at the sensation, a deep, satisfied sound that sends a shiver down your spine. he likes it when you lose yourself like this – when you let go, when you stop holding back.

“jay,” you gasp, his name breaking apart on your tongue, breathless and desperate.

he hums in response, the vibrations sending sparks of pleasure straight through you. he’s thorough, methodical, drawing out every little sound he loves, every little reaction he craves. he doesn’t stop, doesn’t waver, doesn’t let up until you’re trembling beneath him, body arching, fingers tightening against his scalp.

and when you finally come undone, when your entire body tenses and then melts beneath him, he doesn’t pull away. he stays there, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along your inner thighs, soothing, grounding, bringing you back down from the high he so effortlessly pulled you into.

when he finally looks up at you, his lips are slick, his expression dark with something you can’t quite name. he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand before crawling up your body, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his heat overwhelming you in the best way.

“you’re beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips, voice thick, low. “so perfect for me.”

his mouth meets yours before you can respond, stealing whatever words you might have formed. but you don’t mind. you let him take, let him press himself against you, let him remind you with every slow, burning kiss that he isn’t done with you yet.

#okay am i just projecting or what....?#enhypen imagines #enhypen jay imagines #jay enhyppen imagines #park jongseong imagines #enhypen jay angst #enhypen angst #enhypen fluff #my writings

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saintslewis · 2 years ago

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“𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋” - 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒 & 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!reader x charles leclerc

summary: the angel or devil on your shoulders story has been around for centuries, everyone has their own without realising. yours want to help with your…desires after meeting you.

warnings: cussing, outfit descriptions, slight smut (i tried) (18+ MDNI), sorry for the typos!

wc: 3.8k

saint’s team radio: y’all omg. this is a whole kinktober draft and it’s only being released rn? don’t judge 😔🖐🏽. wanna release six other works so let me know if you want those and pls enjoy this 🤭 btw, this is my baby so treat her nice!! thank you wifey @lorarri for this idea, love ya!!

dividers by: @cafekitsune

taglist: @thisismeracing @lorarri @httpsserene @non-stop-imagines @goldenalbon @goldsainz (lemme know if you want to be tagged!)

kinktober with saint!

Tugging on the stranger's shirt, you whined into his mouth eagerly. His hold on your face was so strong as if he never wanted to let go of you, the two of you only meeting at a club a mere hour before.

His shoes were somehow off as he walked backwards towards the hotel bed, his knees hitting the edge of the bed and his hands eager to find the zipper on your little black dress. Your hands travelling up his shirt, feeling his skin under your soft hands. Yes it was odd that he had yet to put his hands anywhere other than your face, but you wanted him to take the lead. Finally taking a breath as he separated your swollen lips, your lip gloss smudged across his mouth. The stranger let go of your face and dug through his pockets, your hopes high thinking he would pull out protection for the rest of the night but your disappointment became present as he pulled out his phone.

"I have to pull out the playlist babe. You'll love it." The man said, his face all red and he bites his bottom lip as he went through his phone. "Oh shit, i have to make it. Give me a few, baby."

And just like that, your arousal disappeared within a second. Leaning your weight onto one of your legs, you held onto the dangling purse that never moved from your shoulder. In all honesty, you had felt quite lightheaded with you immediately blaming it on the alcohol you had earlier on. As much as you were tipsy, you were still very alert and aware of your surroundings and your decisions. However, the slight touch you felt on your waist was enough to trip you up a little, you holding your arms out to balance yourself. Furrowing your eyebrows, you quickly looked behind you only to not see anything.

The tug on your mini dress was a bit stronger, a heavy touch landing on your waist as if it were to guide you to stand straight. The sound of your heels hitting the floor quite hard startled the man in front of you, making him look up at you and smirk then continue on his phone.

The hair at the back of your neck now stood up, a smell similar to cologne wafting through the air and you knew for sure that it was neither you or him that smelled like this. As if all the liquor in your body disappeared, you took a deep breath and walked towards the man in front of you only to feel the back of your dress being pulled backwards.

"Come home." The soft yet deep voice whispered right into your ear, an accent present.

That was all it took for you to whip your body towards the hotel door, so ready to get out of there until you heard another voice in the other ear. "At least say goodbye, Y/n." This time, the voice had a twinge of rasp in it with a more pronounced accent to it.

Your gasp was far too loud for him to not hear you. The air became quite still as you felt like people were standing next to you. "Are you okay? You've been looking a little crazy over there." The man who's name you've yet to know, laughed as if he was at a comedy show.

Staring daggers into his head, you chose to keep yourself calm then answer him. "I've just got a bit of a headache so I'm gonna go." You pursed your lips together, pointing at the door with your thumb. "What? We were having so much fun, baby." He audibly whined, stomping his foot a little.

Rolling your eyes so far, you turned around to leave the room, barely muttering your goodbyes to the confused man. Walking down the hallway, you ordered your uber and headed for the elevator with your thoughts running rampage at the ghostly feeling of the large hands on your waist.

Entering the metal box, you faced the mirror and played with your messy wig a bit just shaping it up. Looking down at your heels for a split second, you lifted your head once again only to see two men in there with you. The scream you let out was haunting but the men couldn't be more relaxed, rather smiling at your fear.

"Did you even like that guy, mon cheri?" The one on your left side asked with his arms crossed, your eyes making contact in the mirror. Your breathing became much faster and the goosebumps began rising on your exposed arms. "Tell the truth, love." The one on your right spoke up, his tatted arm flexed a little as he put his hand in his pocket. All you could do was shake your head, you didn't have the courage to respond verbally because you were slightly intimidated by their stares.

The lights from the elevator flickered a little as they stood up straight, showing their height to you. "We missed you while you were gone." The tatted one leaned his arm on your shoulder, smiling at you whilst chewing his gum and his sunglasses were so dark that you couldn't see through them.

"I still can't believe you were about to fuck that guy, not to mention we had to eat human food while watching you." The one wearing an oversized hoodie and jeans said in disgust, even rolling his eyes as he leaned onto the elevator railing.

"Be nice." Leaning on your shoulder just a bit more, his smile dropped as he turned his head to look at his counterpart with a warning tone in his voice.

"Huma- who are you guys and how long is this fucking ride going to take?" You pushed his arm off you, backing up whilst looking in between the two men. "Don't worry about that, mi belle. We'll see you at home." The green eyed man finally smiled at you and pointed for you to look at the other man.

"Turn around and be calm when you walk out there." You could tell that he was staring at you through his sunglasses, patting your waist and you listened. The moment you faced the large metal doors, the two were no longer there and you looked back and forth between the door and the mirror but you were the only one standing there.

"Okay girl, no more sativa milkshakes for you." You huffed a breath out as the doors opened to a large group of men clad in suits, talking about business related things as they entered. As you walked out, you pulled your tube dress lower but felt all types of eyes on you, one man even having the audacity to grab your wrist. Looking back at the old man in disgust to shrug your hand away, you spotted the green eyed man once again standing in the back of the elevator. All he did was wink at you as you managed to unhand yourself and walk out of the elevator and watched as the door closed.

Hurrying your way through the lobby, you heard loud screams from within the elevator, startling everyone in the lobby. Those screams were horrifying, sounds of hands banging on the doors as the elevator slowly lifted, the noises fading away as everyone stared at each other in horror.

Moments later, you finally settling in the uber and sitting quietly as the car zoomed through the city, the air conditioning cooling your burning skin. Your body felt tired from everything you just experienced, your energy drained from the incredibly long night you had.

The next morning, you woke up to a glass of water and a pill on your bedside. Thinking it was your insight into the next day, you silently thanked yourself for putting it there for yourself. Sitting on your couch whilst eating grapes, you turned on your tv with the news channel blaring out the latest breaking stories.

"One dead, several injured in elevator incident at Radisson Hotel. Some may find the following description unnerving so please be warned. Here we have one of the victims with us with a broken arm. Mr Osbourne." The news anchor announced and chills ran down your spine as your eyes were glued to the screen.

"It was insane! It was as if the devil himself was in that elevator with us! It was just me and the guys coming from a business meeting and when we got in, there was no one in there besides us but the minute the door closed, this Venom looking demon just showed up and just ripped Jason to threads! It said something in French then scratched a few of us before it left!" The distressed and traumatised man said into the mic, close to tears.

"C'est ce qu'il obtient en touchant notre fille." A familiar voice said from your kitchen, the same green eyed man from yesterday night smiled at the tv. "What the fuck!" You screeched as you threw your grapes to the side, startled by him once again.

"He said that's what he gets for touching you, sweetie." Your head snapped to your right, seeing the tatted guy as well with his arm stretched behind your head. "Also Charles, can we not scare her so much? I feel bad as it is." He said with his ring clad hand sitting pretty on his lap, his toned leg relaxed as if he's been here millions of times.

"What the fuck are you guys doing here? And how'd you spawn here like some fucking vampires?" You yelled, beginning to pace around your living room. The two just stared at you in amusement, their heads tilted with their eyes a bit low.

"Oh, wait till you meet Carlos and Lando. Their fangs are insane." Charles joked as the one who's name you've yet to learn just softly smiled. "Okay okay, to put you out of your misery, I'm Lewis and this is Charles. We're your angel and devil that help make your decisions." Lewis said.

Looking at the two men in horror, you shook your head a bit. "Am i still high? What the fuck is going on?" You muttered to yourself, holding your head in your hands. You couldn't bare to look at them, your brain had to be playing tricks on you.

"Okay, think about this. Remember that one bag you really wanted but you knew you wanted to save that money for something else?" Charles spoke, standing up to hold your shoulders in his large hands, stopping your pacing.

"My Diesel bag?" You asked and Lewis nodded. "That was all Charles. I tried to convince you to not do it but then I saw how excited you were about it so I let him take over." He smiled, his sunglasses off and his chocolate eyes glancing at you.

"...What?" Your shoulders dropped in defeat. "How am I supposed to believe you guys? What if you actually just walked into my home and decided to play tricks on me?" You inquired, not wanting to look into both of their eyes.

"Whenever you decide to make a decision about anything, we're there. You're hungry, what do you wanna have?" Charles tilted your head toward his with his fingers, making you look into his emerald green eyes. "I don't know, maybe pizza but I've got some stuff in the fridge so I can have those." You mumbled. Ultimately deciding to just go into the fridge, Lewis was suddenly in front of you with the cutest little smile on his smile. Looking at the couch, Charles was sitting there watching you take quiet steps towards the kitchen.

Not wanting to take your eyes off of them, you manoeuvred through the kitchen to take out a frying pan. "What if I want to impulsively book a flight to New York?" and without a blink, Charles was next to you, leaning his arm against the kitchen counter with a little smirk. "Do you want to get a tattoo before you go? Maybe that belly piercing you were thinking of." He was so smug with his questions, making sure to keep eye contact with you to completely listen to him.

Feeling a presence next to you also leaning against the kitchen counter with his back, Lewis wasn't smiling as much and rather gave you a 'don't even think about it' look. "Or would you rather save up that money for buying yourself something nice?" The tattooed man tilted his head a bit with a similar smirk as Charles and you weren't going to lie and say that your knees didn't become weak under their stares.

"Something..nice..later on." You were truly lost for words. Things like this only ever existed in books or movies and usually it was never two alluring men staring you down as you said your final decision out loud. "Ah, mon cheri. I was hoping you'd choose my fun idea." Charles sounded disappointed but judging by his face, he was far from it.

There was nothing around you to ground yourself back down to earth so you chose to grip onto your pajama shorts, still stunned by the eye contact they managed to keep with you. "I can see you're still shocked at us being here so we'll come back soon. Is that okay with you, angel?" Lewis stood up straight, not moving his spot.

The nickname had your head spinning, here you were already struggling to figure out how you were going to sort out the ache in your lower regions and the nickname had set everything off but of course, you weren't going to ask for such help after you just met them.

"She's too cute, can't even answer your question. We'll be here but not in human form so anytime you want to see us, we'll be right there. Bye, mon ange." And the kiss that Charles left on your cheek felt like a fairy's kiss, so soft. All Lewis did was giving you a side hug, making sure you felt his hand on your waist. With that, they disappeared into thin air.

With Friday evening rolling in, it was safe to say you missed your boys. God, you thought it was crazy to even refer to them as that but you truly wanted to believe that they were there just for you. It also didn't help that your hormones were spiralling out of control throughout the week. The slightest hint of their colognes would waft through the air and you knew that they were there with you, like they said.

You couldn't tell your friends about this, knowing damn well that they would think you're making this up or that you're too caught up in your current read. The two men really captured you, thinking about them so intimately in your free time, remembering everything about their appearances for you to put them in your little daydreams and even going to sleep thinking of them.

Even the thought of them at the moment is making you clench your legs together, the all familiar ache between your thighs showing up once again. Determined to not think of the two entities tonight, you patted your eyelashes upwards and stood up to go take a look at your outfit in the mirror.

Quite similar to the dress you wore on your previous night out, you pulled it down a little and admired your outfit. The jewellery fitting so well with the newest edition being the anklet you bought earlier in the week.

"You look so pretty, mon ange." A voice said behind you, Charles manspreading on your bed with a slight tilt to his head, eyes looking at you through his glasses. He made your breath hitch and you couldn't believe that he was actually there.

"O-oh uh thank you, Charles." Once again, you didn't know what to do with your hands. Wiping your hands on your dress, you couldn't even look at his face but you just knew that once you did, you wouldn't look back.

He continued to smile at you, observing your every move, blinking ever so slowly. "You think we haven't heard how you've been calling for us every night?" Feeling hands on your waist, you turned around to see Lewis staring down at you with a glint in his eyes.

Your legs crossed each other in that moment, the arousal beginning to feel much stronger the more you looked at the both of them. Both of their voices lower than usual and that made you slightly nervous, this exact moment was the one you would daydream about. "You were there?" You asked, wanting desperately to hide your face away from their intense eyes.

The look Lewis gave you said everything you needed to know, his hand gliding to your lower back. Your breathing became lighter as he brought his hand to your chin, tilting your head upwards. You were slowly losing your mind as he continued to look into your eyes, an intense feeling radiating off of him.

“And to think that you were going to find yourself a random stranger to satisfy you when we’re the ones on your mind.” Charles tsked, still sitting and watching the scene in front of him.

As if he was right next to your ear, you heard every word he said and shuddered a bit, the energy shifted entirely. “Look how beautiful she is, Charles. Maybe we should just let her go to the club.” Lewis said with a smirk on his face, one you wish you could wipe off. He slowly let go of your face and body, feeling the warmth of his hands fade away as he went to sit next to Charles, manspreading as well.

“You’re right, Lewis. She got all ready for it and she has to go meet other people who’ll try to hear those sweet sounds.” Charles teased, not moving from his position. The two entities shared a look then right back at you.

You could only shake your head, the arousal pooling in your underwear and the heat at your core was calling for one of them to do something, anything. They watched you as if you were prey and their little smirks became more and more annoying as the seconds passed by. “Aw sweetie, you can’t even stand still. You have to tell us what you want if you want us to help.” Lewis now tilted his head and looked you up and down as he watched you try your best to stand still with crossed legs.

Hands touched your waist, pushing you forward towards the angel’s open legs. “Mon amour, your mind is not clear. If you want us, just say so. You know we’re all yours.” Charles said, moving your hair away from your neck to plant his lips on there, immediately groaning as your sweet perfume invaded his nose.

Lewis looked up at you as you stood before him, the smirk still present. He sat up and placed his hand on your leg, gently stroking your soft skin as your eyes were glued to his. You wanted him to stand up but the words couldn’t come out of your mouth however he stood up, listening to your instructions.

You reached your manicured hand up Lewis’ broad chest, feeling the soft fabric of his top only to reach the plethora of chains and pearls on his tattooed neck. Hooking your pointer finger onto his jewellery, you pulled him down to connect your lips together.

The kiss felt magical, your lips moulding together as you felt his smile whilst his teeth bit down on your lower lip before letting go, your lip gloss barely transferring onto his face. Feeling a hand on your neck guiding your head to rest your head on their shoulder, Charles looked at you and simply pecked your lips, the look in his eyes very telling as your back touched his front.

You slightly whimpered, not wanting to make a sound to ruin the moment. “I need to hear you, princess. Make all the noise you want.” Lewis muttered as he took to the floor and kneeled in front of you, the scene making you audibly moan. Slowly undressing you from your shoes to the stockings, the angel reached for your leg to place it on his shoulder but you stopped him before he could.

“What’s wrong, mom ange? You want to stop?” Charles asked, worry laced in his voice as he halted his kissing on your neck. “No, I just wanna…sit on your face.” You whispered, hoping that Lewis heard you clearly.

“Say it louder, darling.” He said, still on his knees as the sultry gaze made you even more wet. You quietly whined, not wanting to repeat the words. “Oh? Ma Cherie, you don’t want to speak?” Charles’ hand moved to grab your ass, making you whimper once again. Lewis did not once break eye contact with you, his large hand going up and down your thigh as he got closer and closer to your core. “I wanna sit on your face.” You said a little louder with a little roll of the eyes.

Standing up then laying on his back, Lewis spoke as he watched Charles guide you onto his lap with you crawling your way to his face, only reaching to his abdomen with both legs on either side.

Lewis planted his hands onto your thighs, bringing you even closer to his face, your dripping core eventually right above his mouth as he admired your pussy. “We’ll sort out that attitude but for now, let me make our princess happy.” He said, pushing you by your hips to fully sit on his mouth with his tongue lapping your folds.

“Mon amour, keep your eyes on me.” Charles said, standing in front of you as he watched you crumble as your moans struggled to come out. The devil leaned forward to unzip your top, your breasts falling freely and he immediately placed his mouth on your left nipple, kissing it with such care.

Your moans became louder as both men satisfied you until the sun rose, never leaving your side as you reached your orgasms at least 10 times leaving your body exhausted yet utterly pleasured. Experiencing heaven and hell with them was to become the norm for you.

#kinktober with saint #f1 x reader #formula one x black reader #x black fem reader #formula one x reader #x black reader #charles leclerc x black reader #lewis hamilton x black reader #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fic #lewis hamilton x reader #charles leclerc smut #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton fanfics #charles leclerc fanfiction

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ancha-aus · 1 year ago

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RealAgeAU Drabble - Haven

I am back with my BS AGAIN :D @spotaus You know the drill friend come over :D I can not be stopped. I have grown too powerful!! (just played dnd. Checked the chapter to upload tomorrow for my main au and i wrote a bit on a new story. I AM POWERFUL!) <- says the woman who will probably crash in under an hour lmao.

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

We got no beta and no editing as we just go! maybe that is why these drabbles for going so well. me just kinda going and not worrying too much about the in between bits or mistakes or grammar. I just write and say that is done.. huh... writing lesson i guess. ANYWAY! back to the family :3

*---------------------*

Cross hums as he finishes cutting another wood board in the right size. He puts it with the others on the pile before checking the list he made before hand.

Cross nods as he looks towards the house "Got them all ready for the downstairs!" Cross grins as he takes a moment to just look at the house. Their house!

When Horror had returned with the news their new acquaintances had secured them a house they had all been sceptic at best, Dust had been downright suspicious.

But it was the truth! aparently they had managed to build up a good enough reputation that they had been trying to figure out a solution. An empty and abandoned farm and ground? That was too small for most to do anything with? hidden mostly by a forest?

Perfect for them!

They had gone to check it out and it is amazing! It is secure and easily to defend! Sure it is an old building but Cross and Horror can fix up the house easily enough! Dust had handed Nightmare over to Killer and had started looking around the house to inspect it.

long story short? He thinks he can fix most things.

With a hopeful plan they spend the inspection day also cleaning. That had been yesterday.

today? They took most of the old construction wood Crop and Straw had stored away and they got to work. Dust is cleaning and fixing what he can while Horror and Cross himself did contruction work.

Killer is on Nightmare watching duty. Mostly because Killer doesn't have nay skills in construction. Neither of them mind as they had been exploring their new area and territory together. Hoenstly it was adorable to see Killer walk by with Nightmare on his shoulders.

Horror walks out of the house as he takes the planks "Thanks. Walls?"

Cross grins proudly "All of them. Including the walls and the new banisters for the roof."

Horror blinks before grinning "great. thanks Oreo." nad he chuckles as Cross sputters.

May be because horror isn't wearing a shirt. Which kinda makes sense! Becuase horror is pulling a lot of old wood away and rebuilding stuff. the chances of him ripping his few good shirts is rather high. Still Cross is trying very hard to just focus on his face and skull. it is fine! No one notices!

Cross turns back to the pile he still has. it has been reduced quickly which sucks. He looks through it with a frown.

Crop stops by him with a knowing smile "Hey Cross!" he grins wider "Getting heated?"

Cross glares at him "Well the late autumn sun is rather warm!" and he goes back to shifting through his pile.

Crop nods "It is it is..." then the grin falls and he frowns "You guys already that low?"

Cross shifts through it more "Yeah but it is okay! I can probably use this to make the cabinets for the kitchen still..." still they will need to get more materials for everything else.

Crop frowns and must have made the same conclusion "Hopefully Straw gets back soon with more stuff."

Cross rubs his neck "You guys really didn't need to help this much... we already own you big time..."

Crop shrugs "That is how a community works Cross. We all help each other. We will eventually pay it back with helping them back." he smiles "We are only a tiny town and only have ourselves to count on. You heard how the deal with the repair service from the big city went. People are quick to think off us as dumb or naive. We gotta stuck together."

Cross shoots him a grin "We will try to ffigure something out... eventually." he groans "we don't even know what type of farm to make yet!"

Crop shrugs "You guys will have to test some stuff. See what works for you and your land..." he grins again "I don't think a diary farm fits you guys though."

Cross glares at him "Not funny. I swear Betty knew she freaked me uot."

Crop nods "Oh absolutely! Cows are really smart."

Just makes them more terrifying in Cross's opinion and he has no doubt that thought is clear on his face.

Crop laughs but a honk of a car pulls them out of their conversation. and. That is a giant truck. much bigger than Straw and Crop's truck.

Crop blinks "Dani and Ellie?" he raises to his feet and waves.

The truck stops and Ellie leans out "Hello! Your lovely neighborhood lesbians have brought you." she puts ahand under her chin and wiggles her eye brows "the wood."

Dani chuckles as she jumps out "Straw told everyone around town. Most people are grabbing their stuff but this was all stuff we were planning on giving to the community anyway." she shrugs "tree farmers after all."

Ellie grins as she waves them over "Come! lets see what you need! We have all types of trunks with us. They will still need some work and treatment but Dani is amazing with her magic!"

Dani grins as she gives a thumbs up "figure out how to treat wood with magic instead of the slow treatment. Most still want the traditional work but i figured you guys would be okay with this help."

Cross is unsure how to react. People don't just help them. People hate them and what they do. Tehy hadn't expected this much help and it is overwhelming "I... I... I don't know how to... We don't have money?" he is lost.

Dani shrugs again as Ellie smiles "Hey. We have been where you guys have been... well not exactly but people werent'exactly welcoming of us either... as soon as we graduated we grbabed my old car and just left. we foudn thsi place and people were nice enough to take a chance on us." she grins "We now pay that forwards. We are doing this!" she grins and winks "Will just have to invite us over for a prime tour of the farm once you guys are all done!"

Dani nods as she starts untying the many trunks "What Ellie said. the Danielle's are at your service. Now what do you need?"

Cross is still lost when Horror joins them curiously. no doubt hearing all the noise. He pauses as he takes in the sight before tilting his skull "What?"

Cross just kidna waves at the two "We... euh.. got help? And thinks? Do you know what we need?" his mind is in shambles at the moment.

Hroror sees it and smiles as he walks past. patting his shoulder before going over to the dog and bunny and having a short conversation. Horror hears their whole speech and smiles. he thanks them and explains what they need for what. The two woman listen closely before nodding and starting to organise the brought materials with practised ease.

Horror joins his side again and grabs Cross's lists. He takes a pencil and writes some tree names by a few of the items before handing them back "They will help prepare the materials. They are nice." and he disappears back inside.

Welp!! If Horror says that that means they are nice and most likely trustworthy! They get over to him and Cross explains the system he had and what they had calculated to need for each area. The two monsters nod and ask if they should start on the porch while cross continues preparing stuff for horror. Which Cross thanks them and agrees wiht.

They are hard at work when Killer nad Nightmare return. Killer laughs "Criss Cross! you are not going to believe this! The like east area just has a tiny field at the edge of the forest and part of that forest is still in our little area! better yet that means some of the forest animals are like right there!" then he notices the guests and grows quiet "oh... hello." His hold on Nightmare's leg tightens.

Ngihtmare tilts his tiny skull at the two monsters "Dani and Ellie... right?"

Ellie coos as Dani grins "Good memory. I can't imagine remembering all the new faces you meet only once is easy." and she finishes her spell on a piece of wood which Ellie pulls over to cut.

Nightmare shrugs as he hugs Killer's skull "good memory..."

KIller nods as he glances at Cross "Sooooo... Hello Lovely ladies!" he grins "What brings you here?"

Dani raises a piece of wood "Neighborhoodly friendliness." and she continues with her task.

Killer stares at him and Cross grins "They brough over some wood" he ignores the eye brow wigglign "after they heard from STraw that we are getting the house fixed up. aparently it is a community thing that everyone helps everyone." he shrugs at the doubting look "Don't look at me. it is new for me too. Horror said it is fine though."

Killer blinks "I mean... if Horror said it is fine..." he looks at Nightmare "What do you think tiny boss?"

Nightamre shrugs and hugs his skull.

Killer nods "notion accepted. Got it." he grins at them "We are going to look at some of the other stuff Straw and Crop brought along. See what is in there."

Cross nods "Good idea!" and he watches Killer walk off with Nightmare.

Dani chuckles and looks over "Not good at construction?"

Cross groans loudly "Killer is good at a lot of things... not construction." he shrugs "It is fine. We don't want Nightmare near this stuff anyway." he is too small to lift everything and could too easily get hurt. it doesn't matter he is technically a god he is not going to have to work. They don't agree with child labor.

Dani nods "I get that. best to have a child safe corner for them to sit in." she turns back to the next trunk and gets to work as Ellie cuts pieces.

They work for a long time and the sun is well past midday when more people come by. They deliver some older looking furniture and more tools and items for them to use.

Most don't stay for long aside from dropping things off or asking if they needed anything specific. Some brought over some premade food for them and other snacks because aparently 'breaks are important!'.

Crop and Straw, when he returned, work on clearing the road betweent eh main road and the farm and getting some clear markers on where to go.

Dani and Ellie leave later in the afternoon and by the end of the day their group of skeletons looks back at their progress. They aren't done yet but it starts to look more like a house than an actual falling apart piece of junk.

Dust is covered in ashes and when they look at him he just says 'fireplace' which probably means he found a challenge of somekind. Then again Cross thinks he spotted Dust on the roof once or twice but each time he had looked back to check he hadn't been there.

They are packing up when Killer and Nightmare return. Killer looking very proud and Ngihtmare looking a bit more nervous as he fidgets.

Horror and him share alook as Horror looks at them, now once again fully dressed "yes?"

Killer grins "Remember how we were told most farms have a name?"

Cross give shim a look "We are aware. we also agreed we would take time to think about it."

Killer grins "True. But! Nightmare thought of one and I figured it was perfect and fine!" Ngihtmare shoots him a glare and crosses his tiny arms.

Dust tils his skull "fact. Waht is the name?"

Cross wants to disagree but also if nightamre wants to clal it something specific he is fine with it. Nightmare never complains about them deciding stuff so why would they complain about this.

Nightmare mutters something but when he sees everyone looking and waiting he speaks louder "It was just an idea... Killer got excited..." still staring and he rubs his arm looking embarresed "It is silly... I thought... I figured Haven would fit. Haven Farm."

Cross stares at Nightmare and feels a bit of tears try to form as the meaning sinks in and what it implies and means. He can't stop it as he picks nightmar eup and hugs him close. Purring much too loud as he speaks "I agree it is perfect!" their home. their safe place. their hide out. their haven.

Killer grins wider and nods "Which i agreed with. So!" he pulls out a board from behind his back.

It is a name plate. It spells Haven but the letters are a bit croaked and nailed to the backboard. it are all different sizes and different colours nad Cross fucking loves it!

Killer grins "We made it together." he rolls his eye lights "don't worry i did the cutting and nailed it all together. Ngihtmare was my supervisor."

Dust looks appeased as he nods "Seems good."

Horror nods as he takes the plate and puts it by the door, too hang later "Will need a bigger one for the gate at the enterance."

Cross grins as he feels ngihtamre relax at the approval and start to purr himself. Cros sjust nuzzles the babybones.

They still have a lot of work ahead of them but that is fine. It will be all so very much worth it once it is done and they have their house to finally just be them.

*--------------------*

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

#utmv #realageau #nightmare sans #deaged nightmare #cross sans #dust sans #Killer sans #horror sans #bad sanses #farm sans #farm papyrus #So many characters today!#But i did it! and fun fact i had this one planned for a while as well but i had to do some groundwork before this one would be as satisfyin #as it is now! At least it is that way for me now #Killer and Nightmare both got stuck in the stay out of the way and busy zone because neither can do construction #dust also got stuck in the chimney for a bit but no one knows this because dust didn't ask for help and shimmied his way out himsefl again #he is just covered in ash now becuase he got stuck for a good 30 minutes as he wiggled #the hearth/fire place/chimney in the kitchen is all clean and ready to use now!#he is going to take his time fixing and checking the other one for anothr day #Cross and horror know basic construction and learned more at the castle and even more at crop's place #they knew what to do and how they just needed materials and tools #which luckily magic can do a LOT of work for them #The house isn't done yet but they are making progress and they got a name! Haven Farm!

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things-that-weevils-do · 3 months ago

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thinking about roadkill, tahira x mayra... they share a lot of themes imo!! and also itd be just be cute hehe.. so!! in this post i talk indepth about why i ship them:] roadkill shippers rise up!!!!!!

wanting to have been born differently "i was born from evil and i will always be evil and i cant even live up to that" x" I wish I had been born as something beautiful and pure"

wanting to start over "If this wasn't really the end, and I could do it again, do you think that I'd deserve it? Do you think that I'm worth it?" x "I wish I could start over, that whatever that initial sin was had never been committed .. I want to start over"

shame concerning their desires

they go about their shame differently, i think..! tahiras 'tearing them out', 'compensating !! realising them into existence !! so is mayra ("now I am an adult and I try to have sex, and I'm not there mentally, even if my body is participating, I feel like I am in the past again") but i feel like its different for reasons im struggling to articulate... mayra is trying to have sex, she 'want[s] to have fun, to feel safe in someone else's arms, to reach the heights of pleasure, but [her] mind scares [her] so much' !!

related to the one above, they both have.. abnormal (??) sexual urges tahira says that she gets off to videos of people dying/cutting herself,i

predator x prey i really like how mayra says that shes declawed, that shes never fighting back again, how shes prey. and!! tahira, in that sense, could be viewed as a predator..!! her violent urges... "And now I'm filled with a dreaded excitement whenever sharp teeth and claws draw near" x "So you can't stand to see me punishing myself? Only other option is to take it out on someone else!" theres a bunch of other lines that could fit that i think, but i like those, bc it tackles their "want to be hurt/wants to hurt" thing? like mayra once said, "If it's not something I want, then it couldn't be my fault" !! which ties well into my next point...

kink‼️‼️‼️ i think they could explore their desires together through kink .. !! like !! dealing with them in a safe space with someone that they trust..!! would need a lot of communication, which neither of them are rlly good at But!! postcanon:) i think they could learn together. itd be hard but also awesome

theres not a lot regarding their interests that could draw them together, But ☝️ i think mayra come off as rather.. stoic? she looks disinterested, maybe, even when she is. projecting that onto her. but ☝️i also think that shes easy to fluster. so ☝️i think tahira should fluster mayra by teasing her, bc that seems like something shed do. and because i would find that cute :) imagine: tahira says something fucked up just toget a reaction out of mayra, and they Fluster. and tahira locks on her new target. starts out as just teasing but then they both catch feelings... kicking my legs in the air... their interests might not tie them together, but their dynamic would still be a bangerrrr

also. the height difference!!! its just my headcanon but i think its v cute

one must imagine mayras cruffing tahira by the neck like a kitten

#mystuff #tptm #🩸roadkill🦌#the post traumatic manifesto #tptm roadkill #shipping

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pastara-cell · 10 months ago

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Me when someone willingly asks me to drop my hyper fixation head-canon list: (im so normal about them i swear 🙏)

Okay so, i’ve found out that despite these being rather new headcanons (made within the last 2 months) they’re rather outdated 😔. I based a lot of them on a story i made for them, which i now see as SUPER ooc, so i’m sharing around 2/3 of my list now, and dropping the other 1/3 when its updated to fit more towards the actual characters, rather than based off my silly little daydreams

—————-

General story headcanons:

——-

>They started talking to eachother after school, because sean stayed after school to clean the music room, and drew had detention. They both left around the same time, which meant they bumped into eachother. Drew wasnt too outwardly hostile to sean (considering that sean’s older, and the only music club member he doesn’t actively tease), so sean took some time to question him on stuff. long story short, they had a heart to heart, figured out they didnt hate eachother, drew started staying after school to hang out with him, and they got together after a while (I have a whole ass story but this is a summary of it)

>The relationship is kept rather secret from the music club and the dromies. (Music club because they dont necessarily love drew, and the dromies because they’re little shits and would tease Drew endlessly/pos)

>Sean’s helping drew out on his redemption arc. they talk a lot, sean makes sure he isnt overthinking or blowing situations out of proportion. Drew’s extremely grateful for it, and as a result, is a lot less stressed out. (We love communication and healthy relationships 🙏🤍)

>They bonded a lot over shared home-life issues, specifically with parents and no siblings. Drew and sean both shared their experiences with being the authority family-figure in their friend group (sean being the ‘big brother’ of the music club, and drew being the ‘dad’ of the jomies)

>Drew’s love languages are quality time and giving gifts, while sean’s are quality time and doing acts of service. Safe to say they both love spending time together, and do it often

Random ass headcanons that are canon because i said so/silly:

——-

>They play Nintendo games together, VERY specifically Nintendo games. Sean likes the soundtrack and the controls, and Drew is down to play literally any game ever so long as he’s spending time with him

>Sean stays over at drew’s house a lot when things get rough at home.

>When sean comes over on rough home nights, Drew cooks for him and absolutely pampers the shit out of sean. Heated blanket, meals if needed, snacks, gifts, and lots of cuddles and hugs. Sean enjoys it, but makes sure that drew sits down and just spends time with him without overworking himself

>Neither of them are big on kissing, not that they’re necessarily against it, but they prefer holding hands, cuddling, or handshakes. They have the most epic handshake ever actually, the most ever one to ever exist and its theirs

>They both love toread e-books, so they tried to do it together one time, but sean takes his time and drew is a speedreader. Safe to say that it was a one time thing

>Drew and sean have a joint minecraft server together, they both live in the same house. Drew does all the fighting, and sean does all the building. Neither of them can do redstone

>Sean calls drew “beau” as a petname, drew calls sean “babe”

>They text a lot, but due to their relationship being secret, they have eachother saved as ‘Jimmy’ and ‘scott’/ref and say that they’re just friends in seperate states. (I love you flower husbands…)

>Drew helps sean clean out the music room occasionally after school, but is EXTREMELY wary of his surroundings, just incase anyone would walk in. Sean isn’t as worried

>Sean very often reassures drew that besides school, drew is his top priority, and that he means the world to him. Drew enjoys this greatly, but wont admit it.

>Sean can read drew’s rbf perfectly

>Daisy mayyyy or may not know that they’re together. “Perhaps they’re really good friends?” (That girls got eyes everywhere…/vpos)

>Drew and sean text eachother during passing periods, and during lunch, and occasionally in class

>Seans really good at science, whereas, drew’s a lot better with language arts. They help eachother out on tests, but neither of them are good at math

>adding onto that, Drew’s in an advanced english class (he learns with seniors) so he managed to pull a few strings to get into sean’s class. (They sat next to eachother ‘on accident’)

>sean’s very set on open communication in their relationship, which drew is new to. They’re both going through it together, and guess what, mr plum over here is gonna heal 💪🔥 (slowly, but surely)

>Sean helps drew out with genshin events

>does Sean propose to drew after he gets his dipoma and heads off to college in another state because i said so and these are my headcanons? Yes, yes he does 🔥🔥/silly

>Engagement is kept a secret until Drew graduates as well, he thanks ‘his fiancée’ when receiving his diploma

———

I skipped out on a lot of em, but its taking too long to write all of these out so i’ll put more in the next wave and fill in their story a bit more 👍👍

I love them guys they deserve the world….(angst fic coming soon/j)

( @rosypenguins )

#tmf #freakblr #the music freaks #tmf drew #drew tmf #tmf sean #sean tmf #drean tmf #drean #drean redemption arc #i love them your honor #i love them #🤍#these are barely half of em guys…

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alldoll3dup · 1 year ago

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OMG IVE HAD THIS IDEA FOR SO LONG

so anyways, its a velvet x fem!reader, its like the one where they proposed to each other without even knowing. like where velvet planned to propose to fem!reader, not knowing that reader would do the same? I DONT KNOW HOW TO DESCRIBE IT ANYMORE IM SORRY IF IT DOESNT MAKE SENSE!!

▐ Hello! Of course I can it will be fun to write this lol 💪

໑୧﹒★﹒Velvet x FEM!Reader - one-shot ᰍ﹒∿

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - You and Velvet were best friends, but you both wanted more than a friendship

𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦 - Trolls

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Fluff

- Velvet was thoughtful, she didn't want to propose because she thinks it's stupid to talk about her feelings, but if she didn't propose you would never be her girlfriend (and Velvet didn't want that)

- You were also thoughtful, you didn't want to propose because you thought Velvet would humiliate you, Velvet never showed that she liked you in any romantic way

- You and Velvet decided to confess to each other, but neither of you knew it

- Velvet called you to a park without Veneer and of course you accepted you were already thinking in a million ways to declare your love to Velvet

- And Velvet panicking asking her brother for a million tips on how she should act or what she should do

- You two spent hours getting ready, you used the perfume that Velvet praised once and Velvet wore a hairstyle that you said looked beautiful on her

- When the time came you found Velvet waiting for you there and linked her arm with yours she automatically turned to you blushing

"Hey, Y/N, uh, would you like to go on the ferris wheel with me?"

"Of course Vel, I would love it" - you said shyly scratching your head

- However, this peace was short-lived, soon Velvet was surrounded by people asking for photos and autographs and after a long time you finally arrived at the Ferris wheel

"I hate when these people disturb me at important moments" - she said rolling her eyes, entering the cabin with you

- The ferris wheel started to move and when it were at the top you both looked at each other and at the same time said

"Can I tell you something?"

- Immediately they both got nervous, Velvet thinking that you already knew and would dump her and you thought the same thing

"I like you ok? Even if you reject me" - you said quickly, looking away from Velvet, almost crying then she gently holds your face to make you look at her

"You ruined the surprise silly, at least the best part is for me, do you want to be my girlfriend?" - you let out a relieved sigh and respond with a kiss to her

"I think that counts as a yes" - for the first time you met that affectionate side of Velvet and you felt so special, your night was wonderful

- The other day there would be thousands of photos of you two togeter taken by papparazis

▐ I hope y'all enjoyed! I thought it was cute and I literally freaked out inside

▐ Sorry if there are any grammatical errors love you guys ♡

#trolls band together #trolls #trolls velvet #velvet and veneer #velvet trolls #oneshot #velvet x reader #fem reader #headcanon #i love velvet #trolls headcanons #trolls x reader

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shiorihyugawrites · 6 months ago

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The Devil's Bride

Aurora Jaeger, Eren's long-lost childhood friend, was taken from him when they were children. After years of suffering under Marleyan control, Aurora is reunited with Eren while he’s undercover in Marley, igniting a bond neither of them expected. Despite her gentle nature, Aurora breaks her vow of pacifism to save Eren’s life, solidifying their deep connection. Secretly married before the Raid on Liberio, Aurora is swept into Eren's world of chaos and destruction. As the Scouts learn of her existence, tensions rise on the airship home. Mikasa’s heart shatters, and Levi demands answers. And Eren will stop at nothing to protect the only light left in his dark world—his bride, Aurora.

In this journey of love, loyalty, and war, Aurora must reconcile her innocent heart with the brutal reality of the man she loves, while Eren faces the truth of what he’s become. (Eren x OC)

Chapter Twenty Nine

Porco ran as fast as he could, his Jaw Titan racing through the dense foliage of the forest, clutching a nearly dead Reiner and a grievously injured Pieck in his powerful jaws. The trees blurred by as he bounded over roots and boulders, pushing himself harder than ever before. He had to reach the shoreline, where their discreetly hidden ship still waited. If they could just get there, they might escape with their lives.

His mission had been a complete disaster. Not only had they failed to capture Aurora Jaeger, but both Reiner and Pieck had been on the brink of death. And then there was the matter of Historia Reiss, the woman he was supposed to kill. Instead of completing his objective, Porco had found himself drawn to her in a way that made no sense. He had fallen in love with the enemy in less than twelve hours. It was madness.

He remembered the moment he dropped Historia off. Every instinct screamed at him to finish the job, to end her life and secure Marley’s advantage. But he couldn’t do it. He had felt Ymir’s love surging through him, clouding his judgment. It took everything he had to leave her behind and focus on rescuing Reiner and Pieck. Now, carrying his injured comrades, he cursed himself for his weakness and confusion.

At last, he reached the quiet, deserted shoreline where their small ship lay hidden among the rocks and low-hanging branches. Carefully, Porco lowered Reiner and Pieck onto the sand. Their wounds were already beginning to heal, Titan shifter regeneration kicking in, though they were still weak and battered. Pieck’s breathing came in strained gasps, and Reiner was barely conscious.

With a burst of steam, Porco emerged from the nape of his Titan, half out, still tethered to the flesh by those sinewy tendrils. He breathed hard, trying to gather his thoughts. He thought about what Historia had said to him—her words ringing in his head, her plea for unity, her insistence that they were all Eldians divided by Marley’s propaganda. He knew he was being influenced by Ymir’s memories, but he couldn’t help it. The feelings he had for Historia were too strong, too real, and it terrified him.

Pieck, still lying prone and healing, turned her head slightly toward Porco. Her voice was weak but laced with concern and confusion. “Porco,” she managed, her tone gentle yet probing, “why didn’t you kill the Queen when you had the chance? We saw you… You had her in your jaws and you spit her out unharmed. Why?”

Porco’s eyes darted away, his expression contorting in shame and uncertainty. He couldn’t bring himself to speak. How could he explain that the love he felt wasn’t even entirely his own? That Ymir’s soul, living inside him through her memories, had stayed his hand? He just shook his head, clenching his teeth, refusing to meet Pieck’s gaze.

Reiner observed Porco closely. He noticed the flush creeping up Porco’s cheeks, the subtle tremble in his frame. Reiner had lived undercover on Paradis for years, witnessing firsthand the bonds formed between those once called "island devils.” He had seen Ymir and Historia together, had sensed how much Ymir cared for that golden-haired girl who had once gone by Christa. Now, it was as if Ymir’s love had been passed on to Porco through the power of the Jaw Titan.

Reiner’s eyes widened slightly as he pieced it together. Pieck turned her gaze between them, realization dawning as she understood why Porco hesitated, why he couldn’t strike the final blow. They exchanged a look—this was something they’d never predicted. Porco Galliard, a warrior of Marley, falling under the influence of Ymir’s feelings and falling for Historia Reiss. It was almost laughable, if it weren’t so tragic.

Seeing their understanding, Porco stiffened. He didn’t want their pity, their questions. He felt cornered, exposed. “Don’t look at me like that!” he snapped, his voice raw with emotion. “I—I just… Shut up!”

Pieck and Reiner tried again, Pieck attempting a gentle, “Porco, we can work this out, just tell us—”

But he cut her off with a snarl, refusing to explain himself further. He couldn’t handle their probing right now. He needed space, needed to think, needed to escape these eyes that saw too much.

Without another word, Porco went back into the nape of his titan. Steam erupted as he fully assimilated back into the Jaw Titan. Pieck called after him, but he ignored her, launching himself back into the forest’s depths.

He ran, the wind whipping past him, as he followed that pull in his chest—the one leading him back towards Historia. He didn’t know what he would do if he found her again. He didn’t know if he would run away or beg her forgiveness, or try to understand what was happening to him. He only knew that Ymir’s memories and his own heart were calling out for her, urging him forward into the unknown.

…

Meanwhile, Aurora kept a protective arm around Historia as they headed back toward the Jaegerist compound. The group moved slowly, exhausted by the chaos of the battle. Floch rode at the front, his face twisted with frustration. He couldn’t shake the image of the Jaw Titan disappearing into the forest, taking the Cart and Armoured Titans with him. After all this effort, not only had they failed to apprehend the Marleyan warriors, but the damned Titan had managed to infiltrate them, kidnap Queen Historia, and then just… let her go?

“Damn it,” Floch muttered under his breath, his voice dripping with irritation. He was still fuming that Eren had chastised him in front of the others, and now this. He couldn’t help but feel as though everything were slipping out of his control. The Ackermans he’d spent a month hunting were alive, their queen had been kidnapped and returned without explanation, and now their enemies had vanished into the woods.

Eren walked at a brisk pace, his shoulders tense. He glanced occasionally at Aurora and Historia. Historia was practically clinging to Aurora, sobbing into her shoulder. The sight made Eren’s heart clench—whatever had happened with Porco’s Titan had clearly left her shaken to the core. Everyone was puzzled by what had transpired. The Jaw Titan had literally dropped off their queen, alive and physically unharmed, then fled. It didn’t add up.

Mikasa hovered protectively near Levi, who was being half-carried, half-supported by a pair of Jaegerists. The captain was in rough shape, still suffering from his injuries and the lingering effects of Aurora’s poison. His body had taken even more abuse when Aurora accidentally dropped him earlier. He was alive, but miserable, and it showed in his scowling face.

Finally, they reached the compound. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the training grounds. The atmosphere was thick with confusion, relief, and tension all at once. They needed to debrief, to understand what had happened, but one look at Historia’s tear-streaked face told them she needed rest more than anything else.

Eren nodded to a small group of Jaegerists. “Take the queen to her quarters. Make sure she’s comfortable,” he said, his voice quiet but firm.

Aurora gently eased Historia away from her shoulder. “I’ll come check on you soon,” Aurora promised softly. Historia nodded numbly, allowing the Jaegerists to guide her inside. Aurora watched them go, her own heart heavy. She couldn’t ignore the worry gnawing at her gut—about Porco, about what this all meant. But for now, Historia’s wellbeing came first.

Meanwhile, Levi was taken to the infirmary. Mikasa stood guard, her blades still sheathed at her hips, but her posture alert and ready for trouble. Aurora followed them inside, rolling up her sleeves and joining the medics treating Levi’s injuries. The medics exchanged uncertain looks, still astonished to see Aurora so focused on helping the man she’d once nearly killed. Yet, no one dared comment. The tension of the recent battles had shown everyone that alliances could shift and priorities could change in a heartbeat.

Levi lay back on the cot, his face contorted in pain. His muscles twitched as Aurora applied a salve to his wounds, and he let out a low hiss. “Easy,” Aurora murmured, careful and methodical in her movements. “You’ll feel better soon.”

Levi glared past Aurora, his eyes finding Eren. Eren had just entered, hovering near the doorframe as if unsure whether he was welcome. Aurora could sense Eren’s unease. He expected Levi’s fury over the imprisonment of Hange, Armin, Jean, Connie, and Sasha underground in hardened crystal. He braced himself for the inevitable tirade, the accusations that he’d turned against his comrades.

But Levi’s harsh whisper cut through the silence, and it wasn’t about the imprisoned scouts at all.

“You let your pregnant wife onto a battlefield,” Levi growled, his voice low and rough. “What the hell were you thinking, Jaeger?”

Eren blinked, momentarily speechless. Aurora’s head snapped up, her eyes wide with surprise. She had expected Levi’s anger to be directed toward their political schemes or the way Eren had seized control of the military. Instead, he was admonishing Eren for risking her life—her life and the baby’s.

“You knew she was pregnant?” Eren asked, stunned.

“She told me herself,” Levi’s sneered. “You let a pregnant woman face me—if her little paralytic plan hadn’t worked, I could’ve killed her. And then what?”

Eren’s mouth opened and closed, no sound coming out at first. Eventually, he managed, “I… I never wanted that to happen, but we were out of options and running out of time. Aurora’s plan was solid.”

At that, Levi shot Aurora a knowing glance. “Her plan may have worked, but you’re still in charge. This whole mess falls back on you, Eren.”

Aurora stood very still, her hands stilling over the bandages she was wrapping around Levi’s arm. She recalled Eren once telling her that Levi wouldn’t care about her pregnancy if it meant removing a threat. Yet here Levi was, admonishing Eren for risking her life. It was a strange, unexpected turn that made her chest tighten with a sudden surge of respect for the captain. He wasn’t the cold machine she’d imagined. He was pragmatic, yes, but not soulless.

Levi let out a small, pained sigh. “Don’t get me wrong,” he said, his voice still rough, “I’m not saying I approve of everything you and Aurora have done. But now I see she’s no different than any of us—willing to do whatever it takes to protect the ones she cares about. She’s a horrible shot and still physically weak, but she’s got guts. Stupid, reckless guts, but guts all the same.”

Aurora’s cheeks warmed at what almost sounded like a backhanded compliment. She managed a quiet, “Thank you, Captain.”

Levi scoffed. “Don’t thank me. Just don’t put me in that position again. I have enough regrets already.”

Mikasa, silent and watchful, relaxed slightly, her shoulders easing down as the tension in the room lessened. Eren took a step forward, his voice calmer. “You’re right, Captain. I’m sorry. This isn’t how I wanted things to go. But we’re fighting a war against the entire world. We need every advantage we can get.”

Levi rolled his eyes but said nothing. Aurora resumed tending to his wounds, more gently now, as if her newfound respect for him made her more careful. The medics hovered nearby, assisting where needed, and the entire infirmary felt charged with the weight of unspoken truths.

Outside, the evening air grew cooler as the Jaegerists regrouped, sharing stories of what had happened in the forest. Floch paced, still furious about the Jaw Titan’s escape, but also shaken by the fact that everyone—Eren, Mikasa, Aurora, even Levi—seemed to be aligning in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

Aurora finished tying off the bandage and gently patted Levi’s shoulder, her eyes meeting his. They shared a brief, understanding look. None of them knew what tomorrow would bring, but for now, they would nurse their wounds, regroup, and prepare for whatever new horrors awaited them in this endless war.

Mikasa lingered near Levi’s bedside, silent and unmoving, as Eren continued stnading nearby. Their eyes met, and Eren could see the hurt etched so deeply in Mikasa’s gaze that it stole his breath. Aurora, carefully tending to Levi, looked up. She caught the intensity between them and understood immediately. Eren and Mikasa needed to talk. She glanced down at Levi, who snorted under his breath, already guessing what was coming.

“This should be good,” Levi muttered, voice heavy with sarcasm, wincing slightly as Aurora adjusted the bandages on his arm. Aurora offered him a soothing look, pressing gently on his shoulder to keep him still, and then nodded at Eren. Her message was clear: take Mikasa somewhere private, let this play out.

Eren cleared his throat, stepping forward. “Mikasa,” he said quietly, keeping his tone as soft as possible in the tense atmosphere. “Can we talk? Alone?”

Mikasa’s grip on the hilt of her blade tightened reflexively, but after a moment’s hesitation, she gave a small, reluctant nod. Aurora and Levi watched silently as Mikasa followed Eren out of the infirmary, into the adjoining hallway. They walked side by side through the corridors of the old farm compound until they found an empty room next to where Historia was supposed to rest. The sound of distant commotion—the Jaegerists clearing the area, Aurora’s quiet instructions to the medics—faded behind them.

Inside the small room, Eren closed the door gently. They stood facing each other, neither speaking. The silence stretched, thick and heavy, until Mikasa’s shoulders began to shake. Tears welled in her eyes before she could form a single word. The sight of her crying cut Eren deeply. He took a step forward, arms slightly outstretched, but paused to gauge her reaction.

Mikasa tried to speak, her voice emerging in a choked whisper. “I... I really thought—” Her words failed as a sob escaped her throat, tears now slipping freely down her cheeks. “I thought you’d ordered Floch to hunt us down like animals. I thought you wanted me dead, Eren.” The betrayal in her voice hit him like a knife.

Eren’s heart twisted painfully. In two long strides, he reached her and gently pulled her into a hug. He felt her resist for a split second before her body collapsed against his chest, her sobs muffled in his shirt. “Mikasa,” he murmured, his own voice trembling, “I never wanted that. Floch acted on his own. I didn’t know.”

Mikasa wept harder at his words, relief and doubt mingling in her tears. She’d feared the worst, imagined Eren’s heart turned completely cold. But here he was, holding her, sounding desperate to make her understand.

“I hoped you’d come around,” Eren continued softly, stroking her hair as if trying to soothe away the months of confusion and hurt. “I never wanted to hurt you or our friends. But Mikasa... we have no choice now. The Rumbling—” He pulled back slightly to meet her eyes, his voice raw with emotion. “This is the only way to protect Paradis. The entire world wants us dead. I have to save everyone. I have to save Aurora.” His voice caught as he uttered her name. “And... and our child.”

At the mention of the baby, Mikasa stiffened. She remembered Aurora telling her and Levi about the pregnancy earlier, when they were hiding in the trees. “You knew she was pregnant,” she said, her voice trembling. “You... you didn’t even tell me. Why?”

Eren’s eyes filled with regret. “I was afraid,” he admitted. “If people knew Aurora was pregnant, they could use her against me—against all of us. I couldn’t let that happen. I’ve been trying to keep her safe, Mikasa. Everything I’ve done is to keep all of you safe, even if it doesn’t look that way.”

Mikasa stepped back, brushing tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. She still felt hurt, knowing Eren kept such a secret from her, but she also understood his reasoning in this twisted world they inhabited. And she couldn’t deny what she had seen of Aurora: the woman who risked her own life to save Levi, even after poisoning him in the first place. That complexity was something Mikasa couldn’t ignore.

“Aurora risked her life to save Captain Levi,” Mikasa said quietly, thinking back to that tense moment in the forest. “She’s done terrible things, but so have we all. She’s fighting for what she believes in, for the ones she loves. I can’t hate her for that.” Her gaze locked with Eren’s, the weight of the past months pressing down on them.

Eren’s shoulders sagged with relief, but he remained silent, letting Mikasa finish her thoughts.

“And you,” Mikasa continued, voice still thick with unshed tears. “I don’t agree with the Rumbling. I hate it. I hate what we’re being forced to do. But... I can’t bring myself to hate you or Aurora. Not when I know this world leaves us with so few choices. The attack we just faced proves how ruthless and calculating they are, how badly they want us gone. If we don’t stand together, we’ll all die.”

Eren closed his eyes, absorbing her words. He reached out and took her hand gently. “Thank you, Mikasa,” he said softly. “I know how hard this is for you. For everyone. I just... I can’t lose any more of you. Not you, not Armin, not Levi, not Historia, not Aurora, and not... not our child.”

Mikasa squeezed his hand lightly, acknowledging the fragility of the moment. She didn’t fully understand how they would survive the coming storm, but she knew they needed to trust each other again. The world was cruel and there were no easy answers, but if they gave in to hatred and division, Marley and the rest of the world would have already won.

Her tears began to slow as she took a shaky breath. “We’ll stand together,” she said softly. “I won’t promise to agree with everything, but I won’t abandon you or Aurora. We’ll find a way through this... somehow.”

Eren nodded, his eyes shimmering with gratitude and determination. They stood in silence for a moment, leaning on the fragile understanding they’d managed to rebuild.

Mikasa took a shaky breath, wiping the last of her tears away. She stood a step back from Eren, her voice steadier now but still laced with lingering hurt and confusion. “Eren,” she began, struggling to keep her voice from breaking again, “what about Armin, Jean, Connie, Sasha, and Hange? You trapped them in that crystal in the basement.”

Eren’s posture stiffened at the mention of his imprisoned comrades. He’d been expecting this question, knowing he couldn’t dodge it any longer. “I’m going to release them,” he said, meeting her eyes earnestly. “I never intended to keep them there forever. I just needed them not to interfere until after the Rumbling was carried out. Once that’s done, once we’ve secured Paradis, I’ll set them free.”

Mikasa’s shoulders tensed, but she nodded slowly. It was some measure of relief, though the weight of what Eren had done still pressed heavily on her heart. “You really think they could understand your reasoning after all this?” she asked, voice subdued.

Eren inhaled deeply. “I hope so. You and Levi—well, at least you—have come around enough to talk to me. Maybe if we explain ourselves to them, they’ll realize why this had to happen.” He lowered his head for a moment. “I know it’s a lot to ask, Mikasa, but after seeing how you and Levi are at least willing to listen, I believe Armin and the others might too.”

Mikasa bit her lip, remembering Armin’s kind eyes, Jean’s steady presence, Connie’s jokes, Sasha’s bright smile, and Hange’s determined spirit. She nodded again, more firmly this time. “We’ll see. At least now I know you plan to free them.”

With that tenuous understanding reached, the two of them stepped out of the quiet room. The muffled sounds of the compound drifted back into their awareness: the distant voices of Jaegerists regrouping, the faint ring of metal from distant gears, the rustle of leaves still clinging to thoughts of that fierce battle.

They headed back to the infirmary where Levi and Aurora waited. The hallway was dimly lit by lantern light, their footsteps muted against worn floorboards. As they entered the infirmary, Aurora looked up from where she was adjusting the bandages on Levi’s arm. Levi lay back, annoyed but resigned, and Aurora’s worried gaze flicked between Eren and Mikasa, gauging their expressions.

Eren paused at the threshold, his arms folded. Mikasa stepped in behind him, positioning herself beside Levi’s bed, her stance guarded but calmer. Levi eyed them both, his face a grim mask. Aurora’s hand stilled on Levi’s bandage as she noticed the tension.

Eren cleared his throat. “I’m going to release them,” he announced, voice steady, yet not too loud. “Armin, Hange, and the others.”

Levi snorted softly. He already knew about Eren imprisoning the scouts—Mikasa had told Levi while they were on the run—but hearing Eren say he’d release them gave a small measure of hope.

“Good,” Levi muttered, wincing slightly as he tried to shift on the cot. “About damn time. They’re our comrades, and we need everyone at their best once all this is over.”

Mikasa’s eyes softened at Levi’s words, relieved that at least he saw some sense in Eren’s decision. Aurora placed a comforting hand on Levi’s shoulder, acknowledging the complexity of the situation with a silent understanding. The entire group bore emotional scars from the battles they’d fought—both against enemies and each other.

Eren relaxed at their reactions. “Before I do that,” he continued, “we need a plan. We can’t just release them without explaining everything first. We need to ensure they understand why I did what I did—and that we all stand together against the world.” His gaze swept over Mikasa, Levi, and Aurora. “We need to be united if we’re going to survive.”

Aurora nodded slowly. “Agreed. We still need to debrief with Historia. She... she’s been through a lot. We need her input, her support. She’s our queen, and we must all be on the same page.” Her voice was quiet but firm, the calm center in this storm.

Eren’s jaw tightened at the mention of Historia, recalling what he’d heard about her encounter with the Jaw Titan. He didn’t fully understand what had happened, only that it left her shaken and in tears. “Yes,” he said softly. “We’ll talk to her as soon as she’s rested. Then we’ll figure out how to approach Armin and the rest.”

Mikasa looked between them, her face still shadowed by uncertainty but buoyed by the tentative solidarity taking shape. Aurora adjusted Levi’s bandage, and he hissed at the pain but didn’t pull away. This strange alliance—Eren’s fervent determination, Aurora’s careful pragmatism, Levi’s begrudging acceptance, and Mikasa’s conflicted loyalty—formed a fragile foundation on which they would attempt to build a future.

The soft glow of lanterns flickered over their faces, painting them in warm light. Outside, distant footsteps hinted at Jaegerists securing the perimeter. Inside, the four of them stood on the brink of a new chapter. Eren and Mikasa had begun to mend the trust between them. Aurora and Levi had settled into a mutual, if uneasy, respect. And now, they would prepare to face their queen, their friends, and the world beyond these walls.

…

A few hours later, Historia sat at the center of the table in one of the larger rooms inside the Jaegerist compound, a space usually reserved for briefings and strategy sessions. The lamplight cast warm shadows on the walls, illuminating the weary faces of those gathered: Eren, Aurora, Floch, Mikasa, Levi, and the two Jaegerist recruits who had accompanied Historia earlier. The tension in the air was palpable, as if everyone still stood on a battlefield rather than safely inside wooden walls.

Levi sat in a wheelchair by Aurora’s insistence, his face set in a scowl. He’d argued for several minutes that he didn’t need such treatment, but Aurora had put her foot down. “You’re not tearing your stitches or aggravating your wounds further,” she had said softly, yet firmly, forcing him to comply. Now, he gripped the armrests in frustration, his eyes occasionally darting to Aurora. He said nothing, but his annoyance was clear. Yet, he remained silent because they had bigger matters to address.

Mikasa stood near Levi’s chair, arms folded and jaw tight. She had taken a seat at first, but Eren’s presence and the situation at hand kept her on her feet, as if ready to leap into action at the slightest provocation. Eren hovered nearby, hands clasped behind his back, doing his best to project calm authority while knowing full well the room was filled with wounded pride, unanswered questions, and lingering resentment.

The two Jaegerist recruits—both young, their eyes still wide with the shock of recent events—shifted nervously. They had been the ones present when their queen was taken by the Jaw Titan. They, like everyone else, wanted answers from her.

Floch stood a few paces away, arms crossed over his chest. His posture brimmed with frustration and impatience. He couldn’t keep the scowl off his face; he was furious that the Jaw Titan had gotten away. His pride had been wounded too—first Eren’s public reprimand, then the failure to recapture or kill the enemy, and now an even deeper confusion about what had transpired between their queen and that Titan.

Eventually, Floch cleared his throat and directed his gaze at Historia. “Your Majesty,” he said, trying to keep his voice level and respectful, “the recruits told us what happened in the forest. They said you were… embracing the Jaw Titan’s shifter, calling him ‘Ymir’? They said he acted protective of you, then he transformed again and took you away. Can you explain what exactly happened?”

At Floch’s prompting, everyone turned their attention to Historia. She was slumped slightly in her chair, her posture not that of a proud queen but of someone carrying a heavy emotional burden. Her eyes were red-rimmed, as if she had been crying quietly before they arrived. The silence stretched, and for a moment, it seemed she wouldn’t speak at all.

Aurora caught Historia’s gaze and offered a small, encouraging smile. Eren and Mikasa stiffened slightly, as if bracing themselves for what might come out of Historia’s mouth. Levi watched carefully from his wheelchair, one eyebrow raised, prepared for whatever revelations or confusion might follow.

The two Jaegerist recruits stood at attention, their nervous energy filling the air. They clearly wanted to hear the story firsthand, to make sense of the bizarre interaction they had witnessed.

“I know you’re all confused,” Historia began quietly, her voice steadying more with each word. “When the Jaw Titan took me, it was Porco Galliard. Some of you know that he inherited the Jaw Titan after Ymir… and Ymir,” she paused, her throat constricting, “Ymir was someone I loved very deeply.”

At the mention of Ymir’s name, Eren and Mikasa exchanged a glance, recalling old memories of the cadet days and the complicated bonds formed then. Levi’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Aurora tilted her head slightly, absorbing the information, while Floch’s eyebrows shot up in surprise.

Historia pressed on, choosing her words carefully. “I don’t know how to describe it exactly, but when I saw Porco, when I looked into his eyes, I felt Ymir’s presence. It was as if a part of her lived on in him—through her memories, through the Titan power. He looked at me with such… recognition. I know it sounds impossible, but Ymir’s love, her feelings, they were there in him.”

The recruits gasped softly, one whispering to the other, “Memories… can they influence the shifter’s emotions?” Aurora shot them a quick glance, nodding slightly to acknowledge their confusion was justified.

Mikasa’s grip on her arm tightened. She remembered Ymir and Historia from their cadet days—Ymir’s protective streak, the way she always watched over Historia, who was then known as Christa. Mikasa also remembered Eren describing how Titan memories could blur identities, how pieces of one person lingered in the next. It wasn’t just legend; it was how they inherited knowledge and traits from past shifters.

Eren, jaw clenched, spoke softly, “So you called him Ymir. And he responded… by protecting you?” He tried to keep his voice neutral, but the disbelief lingered at its edges.

Historia nodded, her eyes shining with unspoken emotion. “When I saw him, I wasn’t thinking rationally. All I knew was that I felt Ymir’s spirit burning behind his eyes. I ran to him. I… I embraced him, called him Ymir. He didn’t reject me. He looked startled, conflicted, and yet he shielded me. At that moment, I swear he wanted to keep me safe.”

Levi grunted, shifting uncomfortably. “So let me get this straight,” he said, his voice low and skeptical. “The man who was supposed to kill you ended up protecting you because of leftover feelings from Ymir’s memories?”

“Yes,” Historia answered simply. “And then he transformed again, took me in his Titan’s mouth, and ran. He could have crushed me at any second. But he didn’t. He… handled me gently and eventually set me down unharmed.”

Aurora’s brow furrowed, and she leaned forward. “He set you down unharmed?” she repeated. “But then he left, correct?”

Historia nodded. “He took his comrades and fled into the forest. He was torn, I think. Torn between his mission and whatever he felt—the remnants of Ymir’s love or his own confusion about what that meant.”

Floch let out a frustrated sigh. “So the Queen of the Walls,” he began, struggling to keep the accusation out of his tone, “had… some kind of moment with the Jaw Titan shifter, and now he’s gone. Are we to understand our queen—” he hesitated, searching for words that wouldn’t sound too disrespectful, “—is in love with the enemy?”

The room fell silent. Eren stiffened, Mikasa narrowed her eyes at Floch, and Levi scoffed. Aurora frowned, glancing at Historia to gauge her reaction.

Historia’s cheeks flushed, her hands gripping the edge of the table. “I never said I was in love with him,” she said firmly, though her voice quivered slightly. “I loved Ymir. Ymir, who was once my ally, my friend, my… my beloved. Ymir saved my life more times than I can count. She meant the world to me. Now, I see shades of her in Porco—not because he is her, but because he carries her memories.”

Mikasa exhaled slowly. “So you… felt her love through him,” she said quietly, trying to understand the impossible tangle of emotions.

“Exactly,” Historia said softly. She tried to steady her breathing, forced herself to look each person in the eye. “This isn’t about being in love with an enemy soldier. It’s about recognizing that these Titan powers carry hearts and souls forward in ways we don’t fully comprehend. Porco is not Ymir, but for a brief moment, the memory of her love reached me through him.”

Levi folded his arms, wincing at the movement, and looked away. “This is all too complicated,” he muttered. “We have bigger problems than sorting out whose love is whose.”

Eren’s jaw tightened, but his eyes were full of empathy. He remembered Ymir’s choice to return to Marley’s side, knowing what it meant. He remembered the sorrow that followed. “Historia,” he said gently, “we don’t judge you for feeling what you feel. But we need to know how this affects our plans. Porco might be conflicted, but he’s still Marley’s warrior. Will this change anything?”

Historia closed her eyes for a second, gathering herself. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “What I do know is that Marley will stop at nothing to kill us. Regardless of Porco’s moment of compassion, they’ll continue their efforts. We can’t rely on him to betray Marley on a whim. But maybe—just maybe—this means not all of them are lost to blind hatred. Maybe we can reach someone out there, like Ymir reached me through him.”

The two Jaegerist recruits shifted uncomfortably. One cleared his throat, voice hesitant: “Your Majesty… does this mean we’re going to spare him if we see him again?”

Aurora exchanged a worried glance with Levi and Mikasa. “We can’t let our guard down,” Aurora said softly. “Even if Porco hesitated once, that doesn’t guarantee he’ll do so again. Marley wants us dead. They’re not going to stop because of a memory.”

Mikasa nodded, her gaze steeling. “We have to keep fighting. But maybe,” she paused, remembering Aurora’s words about kill or be killed, “maybe we can find another way eventually. Not now, not with so much at stake, but someday.”

Floch clicked his tongue, impatience sparking in his eyes. “We can’t afford weakness,” he muttered. “We nearly lost Historia today. We have to remain vigilant.”

Historia raised her head, meeting Floch’s stare with calm resolve. “You call it weakness. I call it understanding,” she said quietly. “But don’t mistake my empathy for surrender. I know we must fight to survive. I’m under no illusion that Porco’s actions change the bigger picture. Marley is still our enemy. I’m just saying that today, I saw something unexpected—and it means we shouldn’t paint the world in absolutes if we can help it.”

Levi exhaled, adjusting his bandaged arm. “Wonderful,” he said dryly. “So we have a queen who made contact with the enemy under complicated circumstances, a pregnant poison expert who nearly killed me and is now patching me up, Eren planning the Rumbling, and us on the brink of war. Could this get any more twisted?”

Aurora squeezed Levi’s shoulder gently in response, offering him a half-smile. “At least we’re talking,” she said quietly. “That’s better than tearing each other apart.”

Eren nodded slowly, the tension in his shoulders not entirely eased but less oppressive. “We need to focus now,” he said. “I’m going to free Armin, Jean, Connie, Sasha, and Hange once the Rumbling is done. But before that, we have to ensure everything is in place. We need everyone’s head in this fight.”

Mikasa took a breath, her eyes on Historia. “I understand. Let’s do what we must.” Her voice was steady, resigned but strong.

Historia glanced at each face in turn—Eren, Mikasa, Levi, Aurora, Floch, the recruits. She saw exhaustion, fear, determination, and a spark of hope. Her own heart was still tangled in sorrow and confusion, but at least she knew they stood together.

“Thank you,” she said simply. “For listening, for understanding. I know this changes nothing about our situation, but it needed to be said.”

In that dimly lit room, they all absorbed her words, struggling to process what it meant that their queen had touched hearts with an enemy titan shifter. Life in this cruel world was complicated enough. Yet they had no choice but to push forward, united in the desperate fight for survival.

…

Late that night, the door to their bedroom clicked softly shut behind them as Eren and Aurora finally found themselves alone after the day’s relentless chaos. The air in the room was warm, carrying a faint scent of lavender from the sachets Aurora had tucked under their pillows. The flickering glow of a single lantern bathed the space in soft amber hues, casting long shadows that danced across the walls. It felt like stepping into a sanctuary—a rare, quiet moment stolen from the unending storm of their lives.

Eren wasted no time. The second the door was shut, he turned to Aurora and cupped her face in his hands, his calloused fingers brushing against the soft skin of her cheeks. His green eyes locked onto hers, a storm of emotions swirling in their depths—fear, relief, and an overwhelming love he could never fully put into words. Before Aurora could even speak, his lips descended onto hers in a deep, fervent kiss.

The intensity of it stole Aurora’s breath, and she let out a soft sound of surprise before melting into him. Her arms slid around his neck, pulling him closer as she pressed her body against his. Eren’s hands moved to her waist, gripping her gently but firmly, as though he needed to feel her solid presence to convince himself she was really here, alive and safe.

Without breaking the kiss, Eren lifted Aurora effortlessly, her legs wrapping instinctively around his waist. She giggled softly against his lips, the sound a light, airy contrast to the heavy emotions that weighed on them both. Eren carried her to the bed, his movements steady but hurried, as though he couldn’t bear to let her go even for a second. He laid her down gently, leaning over her as they continued to kiss with a passion that made the world outside their door fade away.

Their lips moved together in perfect synchrony, a desperate yet loving exchange that spoke of relief and longing. The kisses grew heavier, more intense, their breaths mingling in the narrow space between them. Aurora’s hands tangled in Eren’s hair, her fingers threading through the soft strands, while his hands roamed her sides, memorizing every curve.

Eventually, their fervor slowed, and they pulled away, panting lightly. Their lips were swollen and pink, their foreheads pressed together as they tried to catch their breath. Eren looked down at Aurora, his gaze softening as he took in her flushed cheeks and slightly tousled hair. She was beautiful, even more so now, bathed in the golden light of the lantern. She looked up at him with equal adoration, her hands still resting on his shoulders.

Eren shifted, laying his head on Aurora’s chest. The sound of her steady heartbeat was a balm to his own restless one, grounding him in a way nothing else could. Aurora smiled softly and began running her fingers through his hair, her nails lightly scratching his scalp in soothing motions. Eren closed his eyes, a low sigh escaping him as he allowed himself to relax for the first time all day.

“I was so scared,” he admitted after a long silence, his voice low and rough. “When I saw Reiner holding you… I was terrified. I didn’t know if I’d get there in time.” His arms tightened around her waist as though he still needed to hold her close to reassure himself. “I don’t know what I would’ve done if you had died, Aurora.”

Aurora’s fingers stilled for a moment before resuming their gentle motions. She tilted her head slightly to look down at him, her heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. She could see the weight he carried—the guilt, the fear, the relentless drive to protect her and the life they were building together. “Eren,” she whispered, her voice soft but steady, “I’m here. You saved me. You always do.”

Eren didn’t respond immediately. He just buried his face further into her chest, letting her warmth and scent wrap around him like a protective shield. His thoughts swirled chaotically, a mix of relief and dread. Aurora was his heart, his tether to humanity. Without her, he knew he would lose himself entirely. He would become the monster the world already believed him to be. She was the only thing keeping him grounded, the one light in the darkness of his world.

Aurora seemed to sense his turmoil. She continued stroking his hair, her touch tender and reassuring. “We’ll get through this,” she murmured, her words meant for both of them.

Eren finally lifted his head, his green eyes meeting hers. There was a quiet intensity in his gaze, a promise that needed no words. He leaned up to kiss her forehead, the gesture soft and full of reverence. “I don’t deserve you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible.

Aurora smiled faintly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “You’re everything to me, Eren. You, me, and our baby—we’re going to be okay.”

Eren let out a shaky breath and laid his head back down, letting her words soothe him. They stayed like that for a long while, wrapped in each other’s arms, cherishing the rare moment of peace. Outside, the wind whispered through the trees, carrying with it the faint sounds of the compound settling down for the night. For now, at least, they had each other. And that was enough.

This day had been long and exhausting, but in this quiet room, in this shared warmth, Eren and Aurora found the strength to keep moving forward.

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