#He's so still and quiet when he's sleeping it's like being in bed next to a pile of seaweed

[galaxy-stardust]

Simon Ghost Riley x you

He teaches you the language of his work - Part 2

The early morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. You were still sprawled on the bed, tangled in sheets, when Simon’s phone buzzed on the nightstand. He reached over, grabbed it, and sighed as he read the message.

“Duty calls?” you asked, voice husky with sleep.

“Not yet,” Simon said. “Soap being a nuisance. Wants to know if I’ve taught you enough to lead a mission.”

You snorted. “Tell him I’m ready to take his spot.”

Simon chuckled, his body vibrating slightly against yours. “Careful. He’d put you through boot camp just to prove a point.”

You sat up slowly, feeling the ache from the night’s lessons. Simon’s gaze followed you, dark and appreciative. He reached for his shirt, but you stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“I’m not done learning,” you teased. “What’s next on the curriculum?”

Simon leaned back, eyes narrowing playfully. “You sure? My courses are intense.”

“I think I can handle it.”

He shifted suddenly, pinning you back against the pillows with a low growl. “You handled last night just fine.”

Your heart raced as he captured your lips in a deep, claiming kiss. But before things could escalate, his phone buzzed again—louder, more insistent.

“Soap,” Simon muttered darkly, grabbing the phone. This time, his eyes narrowed as he read the message. “Team meeting in an hour.”

“Perfect timing,” you groaned, flopping back against the pillows.

Simon gave you a crooked smile. “Don’t think this is over. We’ll finish the lesson later.”

An hour later, you sat cross-legged on the sofa, sipping coffee while Simon and the team connected over a video call. Soap, Gaz, and Price filled the screen, each wearing expressions ranging from amused to exasperated.

“Morning, love,” Soap greeted, waggling his eyebrows. “Simon been teachin’ you more ‘bout comms?”

You raised a brow. “Let’s just say I’m a quick study.”

Soap burst out laughing. “Aye, she’s got more guts than you, Ghost.”

“Careful, MacTavish,” Simon warned, though his tone held no heat.

Price cleared his throat, clearly trying to keep things on track. “Enough fooling around. We’ve got updates on the next mission.”

You leaned back as the conversation turned serious. Despite the banter, there was a deep camaraderie among them—a bond forged through battles and shared secrets.

But Simon’s gaze kept drifting to you, his expression softening in a way it never did with anyone else.

When the call finally ended, Simon stood, stretching before making his way over to you. “What’s the plan for today?”

“Breakfast first. Then maybe some more lessons.” You grinned wickedly. “Think you can keep up?”

Simon’s eyes darkened, his voice dropping to that familiar rasp. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Lesson two was about to begin.

~~~~~~

The crisp winter air wrapped around you both as you wandered through the snow-draped landscape, leaving behind a trail of footprints. Simon walked with an easy, quiet confidence beside you, hands shoved into his jacket pockets.

After a few minutes of silence, you nudged him with your elbow. “So… you taught me a few phrases last night. But I want more. What’s next?”

Simon’s eyes flicked to you, a glimmer of amusement there. “You’re really keen on this, huh?”

You nodded eagerly. “Come on. Hit me with something.”

He stopped walking, turning toward you with a smirk. “Alright. Let’s see if you remember what ‘RTB’ means.”

“Return to base.” You crossed your arms, grinning. “Easy.”

“Breach and clear?”

“Entering and securing the area.”

Simon hummed, clearly impressed. “Good girl.”

The praise sent warmth flooding through you. You didn’t have time to dwell on it, though, because Simon stepped closer. “Here’s one you’ll hear a lot: ‘Copy that.’”

“Copy that?” You tilted your head. “So it’s… acknowledgment, right? Like saying, ‘Got it’?”

“Exactly.” Simon’s eyes narrowed in mock seriousness. “Let’s practice. Say I give you an order. What’s your response?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Copy that.”

“Good. Now let’s make it more interesting.” Simon took a step back, folding his arms across his broad chest. “Alright, soldier. Your next mission—build me a snow fort. Make it tall, sturdy, and ready for battle.”

You gave him a mock salute. “Copy that.”

With renewed determination, you crouched down and began gathering snow. Simon leaned against a tree, watching with that infuriating smirk that always sent your heart racing.

As you worked, Simon’s deep voice broke the quiet. “One more phrase for you. ‘Hold your position.’”

“Means don’t move,” you answered without looking up.

“Exactly. And it also means…” He suddenly lunged, grabbing a handful of snow. “Stay right there while I do this.”

You barely had time to react before the snowball hit you square in the shoulder.

“Simon!” you shrieked, wiping snow from your coat.

He chuckled, another snowball already in his hand. “What’s the matter? Didn’t hear the order?”

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that.”

With a quick scoop of snow, you launched your own attack. The next few minutes were pure chaos—snow flying, laughter ringing through the trees. You managed to land a hit on Simon’s chest, but he retaliated by tackling you gently into a snowbank.

Pinned beneath him, your laughter faded as the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you. His weight pressed into you—not crushing, but grounding. His eyes, dark and intense, searched yours.

“You’re learning fast,” he murmured.

“Yeah?” you whispered.

Simon leaned in, his lips brushing yours. “Roger that.”

The kiss was slow and deep, snowflakes melting against your skin.

“Think we can call that a successful mission?” you asked breathlessly.

Simon grinned. “I’d say it’s just the beginning.”

[cheeseceli]

Mornings with SKZ

Pairing: Ot8!Skz × Gn!reader (individually)

Genre: fluff, headcanons

Request: Ot8 skz and their s/o mornings together

Warnings: mentions of food, skinship, established relationship

A/n: posting this as a reminder I still exist 😭 | Daily click

Bang Chan

First three times you shared a bed with him freaked you out because Why'd you always wake up alone??

He'd already be starting his day

Showering, making breakfast, even working already depending on the day

But he'd always be as silent as possible so to not wake you up

Once you inevitably do, he stops whatever he was doing so he can say hello to you

Good morning hug 🙂‍↕️

"Hi babe, did I wake you up? Sorry, I'll be quieter next time. Come here"

Lee Know

You'd wake up with the smell of something delicious being made

Best breakfast ever!!

And he'd keep cooking after he feels you hugging him from behind

Asks you if you slept well 😔

Of course you slept well, how could you not with his three cats sleeping with you?

They'd only wake up later on though

It gives you two time to spend together before the day actually starts

"I'm almost done cooking it, you can go sit if you want."

Changbin

Please be someone who likes mornings

I see him as such an early bird for some reason

A very energetic one for all that is worth

So he'd love it if you wanted to be active since the early morning

Going out for breakfast, jogging a little bit, maybe just walking around the town

He loves to start his day with you, no matter what you're doing

"The day is so beautiful already! Do you want to go out? We can go to that cafe you like."

Hyunjin

He'd probably wake up before you, but he's not getting out of bed until you do

He's on the lazy morning racha, what can I say

But he's there, laying with you and cuddling you, sweetening your dreams a little bit more

It's a little bit funny cause he's waiting for you to wake up but he's not doing anything to entertain himself

Not even using his phone

Maybe he's still a bit dreamy and is just savouring this peaceful moment

Brightest smile ever when you open up your eyes

"Hello, love. Did you sleep well?"

Han

There's no such thing as morning with him

Bro is ready to wake up only after eleven am

And please don't be an early bird because he needs to be with him

Yes, he will be asleep, but he also wants to be with you

He's such a cuddler

Even if you woke up, I'm not sure you'd be able to get away from his hold

"C'mon, baby. Just five more minutes."

Felix

Breakfast in bed!!!

I cannot imagine a morning that is more him than that

He's so gentle when waking you up as well

Softly calling out your name and maybe even kissing your forehead

It would be like 8/9 am when he'd wake you up

So that gives you two quite a time to spend together

"Wake up, angel. I made some food for you."

Seungmin

It doesn't always happen, but whenever it's possible, he loves to watch the sunrise with you

Even if you're so sleepy you barely register the scene

It's kinda magical

He won't admit it though

Mornings with him are low-key quiet, you both still a little bit sleeping

It's also when he's the most vulnerable

"Come here" he asks with open arms, just waiting for your touch.

I.N

He's the second part of the lazy morning racha

He loves doing absolutely nothing with you

Just laying in bed or on the couch and catching up with your favourite drama energises him so much

He especially lives to this on his days off

It's rare to be able to do nothing for a while, so he won't lose an opportunity to do so

"Oh, there's a new episode of the drama we were watching last week. Wanna see it?

Masterlist | you'll probably like: first relationships

Reminder this is just fiction!! I'm not trying to portray real life and you shouldn't believe that this is how the members actually are. This is just for the vibe and the delulu!

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143 @sleepyleeji @jinnie-ret @sheraayasherrecs @rockstarkkami @urlocalmultigroupfan @aeinzzzketchup

Dividers by @cafekitsune | images 1, 2 and 3

[merulanoir]

(my arm is in a sling, but i have too many story ideas rattling around in my head so i'm typing this one out here before it escapes)

The thing is: Ghost doesn't help Soap in Las Almas.

He makes his way out of the city, and when he receives Soap's comms, he agrees to wait for one hour before being on his way. Against all odds, Soap makes the RV with something like three and a half minutes to spare, nearly delirious with pain but still alive.

And the thing is: Ghost can tell Soap is hurt by the fact that Ghost didn't wait for him. They both know it was the tactically sensible decision: one of them had to live to get word out to Price, and Ghost made a call. Ghost knows why Soap isn't his usual chatty, confident self on the drive. It could be the exhaustion and the gunshot wound and the blood loss, but Ghost has seen Soap with multiple broken bones and still cracking (hah) jokes.

Ghost knows Soap thinks himself expendable. They all are, as soldiers, ultimately, some more than others. Soap thinks that Ghost thinks so; he did, in a way, and as they drive to the safe house, Ghost admits to himself that he feels a twinge of guilt. He thinks his call was the right one, but he likes Soap.

(He hasn't let himself examine the feeling yet, that comes later: to be exact, it comes about a day later, when he sees Hassan dragging Soap towards the broken window.)

Ghost has worked solo for several years, and even after the joined the Task Force, he still spent a decent chunk either on his own and/or dark. Instead of diving right back, he pulls Price aside in Chicago and makes an off-hand comment about Soap, something that would sound casual to anyone who didn't know him and his shtick.

Price does understand what he's not-requesting: I wanna work with Soap.

Ghost spends almost a full year with Soap attached to his hip and trying to...not make amends, but to show that he doesn't consider Soap expendable. Anything but, because by October 2023, Soap has started calling him Simon and they're on the verge of something neither of them is brave enough to put a name to. It bleeds through quiet, tired moments, when Ghost consciously lets himself relax obviously enough that Soap can't not notice, and it's heavy in the air during downtime spent at the pub, Ghost's mask hiked over his nose to sip his drink, pretending he doesn't notice how Soap steals glances at him.

Then: Makarov escapes.

They race to Urzikstan, to the Mediterranean, to Siberia, Kastovia, and finally to London, and Ghost is unable to shake the creeping feeling that he's out of time. That he made a mistake, somewhere, and didn't notice, and now it's too late to fix anything.

He and Gaz are too late.

For the first time during his military career, Simon Riley doesn't fight it when Price tells him to take time off.

Here's the thing: Ghost started to regret leaving Soap behind when he realised Soap wouldn't have made the same call in his shoes. Soap would have stayed and helped Ghost. Not because it was the tactical or clever option, but because it was the right thing to do. Probably also because Soap had decided they were friends.

Thing is: Ghost was a coward. He feels like he was robbed; after a year of working together, he and Soap were almost there, Ghost had been dropping hints for months, wishing that Soap would be bold enough to finally assume the interest was mutual and...

He doesn't let himself think about it, but it returns to him when he manages to trick his body into exhausted sleep. He had a year to get his shit together and apologise to Soap, to tell him he was essential instead of replaceable, to confess he didn't want to work alone anymore because he had finally found something better. That he didn't want to live alone anymore because...

He's expected back at the garrison the next day. He goes to bed not expecting to catch any rest like most nights. He has a fleeting sense of surprise when his body grows heavy and consciousness slips away.

He opens his eyes to catch raindrops through his mask. The air is heavy with thunder he can hear rolling closer. Ghost blinks, disoriented, until there's a rattle on gunfire in the distance. Instinct makes him crouch behind a car, melt into the shadows.

When he looks up, he sees the lit tower of the church. For a moment, it blurs into nonsensical mess of gold and black, until...

"This is Bravo 7-1 in the blind, how copy?"

Soap has been dead for fifteen days, and now he's not: his voice is back where it belongs, in Ghost's ears. Maybe Ghost has finally snapped and gone insane. He's back in Las Almas, Soap is alive, those are the immediate facts.

"Ghost, this is 7-1, do you copy?"

Last time, Ghost didn't respond until he got away from the city. He just ignored Soap until he was reasonably certain he got away.

This time, Ghost reaches a shaking hand to the headset.

"Johnny?"

He doesn't know if things are predetermined. Maybe he'll only make it worse by responding and abandoning his initial plan.

All he can think about is that this time, he won't look Johnny in the eye and know he had to survive alone.

[magix-winx-club]

God, I just want to sleep Part 2

Part 1,

Will make it a three-part series

Daryl Dixon x disabled!reader

Summary: Daryl goes on a supply run for your meds

Warnings: Slight Angst, Daryl being a dick (bc he cannot handle feelings)

Daryl had only gotten a handful of hours of sleep but that was nothing new. He only needed a couple anyways. So when the first light of a new day broke through the iron bars on the window and into the Cell Block he was up, rubbing the sleep from his face. His cell was down to its bare minimum, still not used to having a place to call ‘home’. A bunk bed, like everyone else had, a desk and iron chair, like everyone else had, and a curtain, to give the illusion of privacy. His leather vest was hung neatly over the back of the chair, one of his sleeveless flannels dumped unceremoniously on the desk in front. It took him a while to get used to sleeping without his full gear on. Now he was just dressed in his wife beater and least itchy jeans for bed. No shoes, but his crossbow was still perched next to him. 

Daryl bent over putting his worn down boots on, he should make a separate run, bring some new clothes and boots back, especially now that winter was not too far off. Hastily he put his flannel over his wife beater. He still felt weird being so undressed. Next up was his pierced possession, second to his crossbow, the vest and the only item of clothing he really took care of. 

Tossing his hair, which had gotten significantly longer now, of sleep and he was off. It was not that he tried to be quiet, he just naturally was, when he made his way almost silently down the stairs to the bottom cells. He almost passed yours when he halted himself. The cellblock was quiet, safe for some snores from the men, the air fresh from the night, not yet stifled by the day's heat, the first morning lights bathing the cellblock in a warm glow. Daryl’s cell might not be home to him but this was the bars, and thick cement walls and roof that kept his family safe. 

Sowly, this time trying to be quiet, he made his way to your cell. The privacy curtain is not fully drawn. Daryl did not enter your cell, just watch from the gap between the curtain and the wall, the slow rise of your chest, some tear tracks still visible on your face. Something in him ached, to see you so upset and helpless last night. Helpless or hopeless, or both? Either way it hurt him. You were too kind, too gentle to be burdened like this and if there was something he could do he sure as hell will try. 

With a renewed sense of purpose he made his way down to the rest of the cells towards the common room. Maggie sat there, running through her mental checklist like every time before a run. Gun, check. Knife, check. Pack, check. Water bottle, check. Daryl could still see some residue sleep in her green eyes. when she met his blue “Morning Daryl, good to go?” He gave her a curt nod and made his way outside, trusting that she would follow him. “Carol packed us some protein bars.” She handed him one, which he put in the top pocket of his flannel. “Thanks.” 

“You are making a run to the big spot in a few days right?” She trailed next to him towards his bike. Daryl wanted to make sure they would be able to get to wherever they needed so instead of a car they’d take his bike. “Yeah, why you need sumthin’?” Maggie shook her head. “No, not me but if you find cinnamon can you bring that back?” Daryl shot her a look. “Takin’ up bakin’ now?” Sarcasm dripped from his voice, which made Maggie snort, very much unladylike. “It’s for Y/N.” That got Daryl's attention, already adding the wish to the list in his head. “Thought we could make some compressions. Cinnamon is supposed to be an anti-inflammatory. If you could find one my Daddy could make some for her.” Daryl, humm. Well, if it was not on the list already it would definitely be now. 

The soft light streaming into your cell made you feel groggy. Your head felt heavy with sleep but the deep exhaustion that had plagued you yesterday was somewhat gone. Letting out a groan you buried your head in your pillow, hoping to chase away the light for a little longer. In the end the little sleep you got was never enough, and you craved more than anything to turn around and let the warm blanket of nothingness take you again. But you knew, all that would happen would be a state between half asleep, and half awake, no rest, just a war waged between sleepy you and awake you. Yet, you could not bring yourself to open your eyes and face the day. Laying in your bed you pondered yesterday. How exhausted you felt, Daryl’s rough voice and observant eyes and his oh so gentle touch. Once more you were left wondering how a man so rough and strong could be so gentle. Images of him holding Judith, patting Carl on the back, and his occasional smile came to mind. Smiling into your pillow you could not help the skip of your heart. He truly was something else. 

Even though you felt embarrassed about yesterday. There was mostly relief, to know that the secret you had locked away for so long, was finally out. The first time in what felt like years you were yourself. That though got you to move, sitting up slowly you tested out your legs. Moving the toes on your left foot, trying to chase away the stiffness, then your foot. You repeated the same process on the other leg before finally taking a deep breath and swinging them over the edge of the bunk. You sat in this position for a bit, testing out how bad your legs were today, and even though they were stiff and it was uncomfortable the cramping had died down a bit. So finally, you got up and got ready for another day. 

On the way back to the prison Maggie mused on the fact that Daryl was even more focused than usual. Pushing to raid more places than they normally would. It was not until Maggie had found the jackpod of muscle relaxers that Daryl relented and the both made their way back to the prison. It was in a nursing home, that no one had thought to properly check before they stumbled onto, what Daryl described as ‘shit tone’ of medical supply. Not just supplements, and muscle relaxers but all kinds of stuff. Both of them filled their packs with as much as they could. Maggie noted how Daryl forwent antibiotics for supplements, muscle relaxers and lastly every form of painkiller he could. She had to bite her tongue every time when he hastily put the medication into his bag once she said it was a muscle relaxer. But could not help and let a small smile slip. It was nice to smile even though the place stank worse than anything else, bodies of dead elders everywhere. No wonder no one thought to look here. If it was not absolutely necessary, well and if she did not have a determined redneck leading the charge she would have skipped the place too. 

The longer she thought about it the more she wondered. At the end of the world all of them looked like a group of misfits, not looking like they belong together but somehow do. Her thoughts turned to Glenn and she wondered if she had fallen for him before all this? She wanted to think so. But Daryl was arguably the most changed from all of this. He was hard before all this, ready to fight but now he learned gentleness, kindness, and community too. And if there was a person who embodied these traits it would be you. So yeah, from the outset it might look like an odd pairing but if someone would sneak their way into Daryl Dixon's heart it would be you. The thought made her smile even more. 

You felt on edge, you had not seen Daryl all day. At first you thought he was avoiding you after last night but you overheard Carol that he and Maggie went on an impromptu run. It eased that anxiety in your chest a bit. And it would have been a nice day if it were not for Hershel’s watchful eye, always following you around. It made your skin itch. You knew he wanted to talk to you, but now was not the time, you told yourself. You had a job to do. And if you were to talk to him, what would you say? This was not something talking can fix. That was the one bad thing about monotone labour such as doing laundry. Your mind had time to think. 

The sound of an engine cut through the groans of the walkers and chatter of nearby people. You could not help but whirl your head around so quickly it gave a slight crack. Not a minute later there he was, atop his bike, hair slightly flowing in the wind, his shoulders wide and imposing. He looked so right on top of his bike, weaving through some stumbling walkers.

You put up the last of the washed clothing on the washing line to dry, and made your way towards Daryl and Maggie, ready to help with whatever they had scavenged. 

Before you could reach them Hershel was next to them, giving Maggie a quick kiss on the forehead and a hug. He turned to Daryl, saying something you could not make out. Daryl gave him a nod. Seemingly satisfied Hershel clapped him on his shoulder like a proud mentor and went off after Maggie. 

Now it was just you and Daryl and it made you nervous. You stopped a bit away from him not knowing what to do. Daryl was busy unclasping his bag from his bike when he made eye contact. Instead of his normal curt nod of his head, he looked away, a slight blush on his face. Taking a deep breath you chose to ignore whatever happened yesterday and act like any other day. “Anything I can help you with?” You reached your hand out, taking the bag he had from him. So his hands were free to unclasp his crossbow from the back of his bike. “Where to?” You chipped. Yes, maybe you were compensating a bit but Daryl still had not looked at you. What if he thought you a burden now? Hated you for being the way you are? The anxiety in you coming back in full force. Gods please let me rewind and do yesterday again. You would just stay in your cell and avoid Daryl at all costs. “Should I bring it to Carol?” Your voice takes on a forceful happiness. “Nah, ‘s for yu,” he glanced at you. Giving you an encouraging nod to hold onto it. Your brows furrowed, staring at the bag. 

Daryl watched you closely. You seemed better today, like usual. Almost like last night did not happen but his heart still aches thinking back to the tears in your eyes. How had he not noticed it before? He prided himself on being observant but for some reason he still missed it. Maybe it was because everytime you smiled at him, that was all he could focus on. How he tried to keep the skipping of his heart at bay. Either way he finally was taking care of you know. Thinking about all the days you had suffered in silence made him angry. He wondered how many nights you were sat up like yesterday crying by yourself. An imagine of you on the floor, screaming in pain as Walkers were feasting on your body came to his mind. It made blood rush into his ears and his skin tight, itching, angry. 

“Common.” He gripped you on your upper arm. It startled you, it was not like yesterday. His grip is firmer. You could do nothing but trail after him confused by his sudden tenseness in his body. You could practically feel anger rolling off him. 

He dragged you into C Block, bypassing some of the family members in the common area and heading straight to your cell. “Daryl?” you asked hesitantly once he dragged you into your cell, pacing in the small room. All at once, he exploded. “What the Hell were ya thinkin’?” Before you could respond he went on. “Nah ya wasn’t thinkin’, was ya?” He angrily ripped the bag from your grasp. You stood there, your mouth slightly open, your eyes wide. For the first time today he was facing you. His body leaning slightly forward and his furious gaze fixed on you. You wanted to say something, to reach out and sooth him but you had no idea how. It was best to just let Daryl be angry and let it all out. At least that is what you all had learned. “Fuck, if I’d not known ya, I woulda left yo ass ri’ht were I found ya.” His finger pointing accusatory at you. A knot formed in your stomach, spreading throughout your body, pumping like blood. This was all you had been scared off, being left, a burden once everyone found out. “Enjoy your shit.” He dumped the contents of his bag on your bed before storming out. 

Once his footsteps stopped echoing off the wall you turned towards the bed. What you saw made you choke out a sob. Slowly you sank to the floor, in front of your bunk, curling in on yourself trying to stifle your crying. 

Masterlist

[apeachty]

₊ ˚ ⊹ ♡ . ⠀wild roses | chapter 2 ; the stem

⠀⠀⠀neighbour!yeonjun x fem!reader

← to chapter 1 | ♡ you're here ♡ | to chapter 3 →

genre ; soulmate au, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, humour, smut            wordcount ; 16.5k

warnings | tags ; unhealthy relationship with pain [mentions of self-inflicted pain]; yeonjun does some kinda questionable stuff; self-hate and self-pity.

smut warnings ; dom + soft sadist yeonjun x sub + soft masochist reader. mentions of wet dreams; making out but not really.

⠀⠀⠀[ event masterlist | my masterlist | wild roses masterlist ]

when you woke up a few hours later, you felt much better—your head was significantly clearer and your body didn't feel so weak. you weren't sure if you  had dreamed about yeonjun in your fever or not, because he had felt pretty much real, and you had allowed him to check on you. but now, he was nowhere to be seen or heard—your apartment completely quiet. of course, he could have left, but when you noticed the skimpy top you were wearing, half of the mark out in the open, you prayed you had only imagined him and undressed on your own.

but no—yeonjun was peacefully sleeping on the couch in the living room, and the uncomfortable feeling in your gut intensified. it meant he had seen you—that. was he going to start pitying you now? was that the reason why he hadn’t left, choosing to stay here, sleeping on a couch a bit too short for his height instead of returning to his own apartment? was he—your head started spinning, vision blurring at the edges, as you tried to lean against the bookshelf to keep yourself from falling, slowly sliding on the floor and accidentally knocking a few books down.

the soft thud stirred yeonjun awake and he rushed to you the moment he saw you sitting on the floor with your head in your hands. “hey, why did you get up?” he asked softly and crouched down, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead—it wasn’t too hot, so your body had probably just reacted badly to moving while still weak. “let’s go, i’ll carry you back to bed.”

you shook your head, “can you please just help me walk?” you asked, and he nodded, letting you lean on his shoulder as he wrapped his arm around your waist, helping you up slowly.

yeonjun wanted to fight you on it at first—almost out of habit—insisting he could easily carry you, but quickly realized he was still too weak, and it would be just dangerous for you, so he bit back his pride. surprisingly, it wasn't that hard—maybe because your well-being depended on it. or maybe because he was comfortable around you and didn't feel the need to show off. 

once you were back in bed, safe and sound, resting against the headboard with your legs wrapped in the blanket, yeonjun crouched down beside you. “are you hungry?” he asked, looking up at you with a warm smile. 

you wondered for how long he was going to ignore the elephant in the room, when the elephant—the mark on your upper chest—was right in front of his eyes. “a bit, to be honest,” you replied, too afraid to ask about his thoughts on the mark yourself. 

yeonjun nodded and left for the kitchen, returning not so long after with a tray of soup and rice. “here, it's fresh, i cooked it just a few hours ago,” he said, putting the tray on the bed next to you. “i hope it's to your liking.” 

you replied with a quiet ‘thank you’, grabbing the spoon and carefully—just in case it turned out to be too hot—tasting the soup. it was tasty, and under any other circumstances, you'd immediately tell yeonjun that it was awesome, but right now that would sound out of place and too awkward, so you kept quiet. 

he watched you from the corner of his eye, noticing how you didn’t look at him even once after he gave you the tray. he wondered if he had ruined everything. only now did yeonjun realize that he hadn’t even tried to wake you up first—he had been so scared because of how hot you were that he didn’t even think about it. he had wanted so badly to protect you, yet he had ended up being the one you needed to be protected from.

yeonjun stood up, immediately catching your attention . “i should go…” saying that broke his heart almost as much as the expression you got on your face—the one he always jokingly called ‘a left behind puppy’ look. why were you looking at him that way, though? had he misunderstood?.. “i… i’m sorry for undressing you. i never meant to make you feel that way, and i know it doesn’t excuse—”

“it’s not about undressing,” you mumbled, stirring what was left of the soup and still refusing to look at him properly. you noticed the way he frowned, though—probably confused. “at all,” you added even quieter. the air between you two had never been that tense, and you absolutely hated it. you had to get rid of it, despite being afraid of hearing the answer. “do you…” you cleared your throat that suddenly got dry. “do you know what this is?” 

yeonjun needed no clarification—the topic hovered over you both like a dark thundercloud. he swallowed thickly. “i do,” he admitted, watching the way you fidgeted with the spoon. you were so tense, almost scared, but no matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t say what a mark like that meant to him. he knew he was too much of a coward. “it's a soulmate mark,” he had to force the next words out of himself. “of a wild rose.”

hearing it out loud felt completely different, the uncomfortable feeling in your gut growing stronger, and you could barely find the courage to continue. “people usually… pity the likes of me,” you said quietly, trying not to look at yeonjun directly. “or they…” you didn’t finish, but he knew what you were going to say. ‘avoid’. they either pitied or avoided. “nevermind,” you whispered, before continuing just a bit louder. “are you pitying me?” 

yeonjun couldn’t answer immediately—he simply didn’t know how. was he pitying you? no. but had it changed the way he saw you? yes. how could he explain it, though, when he was so afraid to open up? “i… i’m not pitying you, but i feel more protective over you now,” he admitted, running fingers through hair. “i know firsthand how shitty the bond can be,” the words left his mouth before he could stop them.

you leaned in slightly, eyes wide in surprise as you looked at yeonjun directly now. “you know a wild rose?” you weren’t sure you had heard right—wild roses were rare. of course, it wasn't rocket science to find one in that century with social media connecting the entire world, but you’d never tried. so finding someone, even through two handshakes, was shocking. maybe he knew something about the bond because of that? 

yeonjun only swallowed thickly and nodded. “i do. in some way,” he said slowly, studying your expression. you looked away for a second—he assumed you were thinking of the words ‘in some way’, unsure how close he was to that person. people. he knew many, actually—over a dozen for sure—but that wasn’t what he meant, and he knew he had to tell you. “it’s me,” he finally said—his voice quiet, yet the words somehow loud.

you froze—he was… you couldn’t get your head around it. your neighbour, one of your closest friends—the closest, probably. yeonjun was a wild rose. suddenly, the bud in his wallet, lack of soulmate, and his overall closed-off nature when it came to the topic all made sense. suddenly, the way you clicked so fast made more sense too—you were similar. 

yeonjun was sure you were shocked, but he couldn't understand what was going through your head. were you thinking he had lied? “i can show you the mark if you don't believe me,” he offered hesitantly. he didn't want to—truly didn't. in the moment, it felt like he'd rather be seen completely naked than show the mark to anyone, even you. but if it meant you wouldn’t leave his life because you thought he was lying about something like that, he was ready to do it—it was the least he could do.

“no,” you said almost firmly. “i believe you, you don't have to show me anything to prove it,” you watched his shoulders relax as if a few tons of weight had been just taken off them. “i know how intimate the mark is,” you continued, setting the bowls on the bedside table and placing the tray somewhere on the bed. you shifted your position, sitting on your knees, almost touching yeonjun's thigh with them. “but i want to ask you for something.”

yeonjun froze, not knowing what to expect. of course, he didn't think you'd make him do something you knew he'd hate, but his trust issues, that were caused by another wild rose… no, no. he'd never allow himself to see her in you. you were so different, he could be sure you wouldn't do anything to hurt him. “go on,” he almost choked out despite his bravado.

“please, don't shut down,” your voice was almost pleading. he seemed so wrong already, completely tense, like he wasn't sure about every breath he took, like he was already shutting you out. you were afraid he'd never open up if he closed off now. and that would only mean the end. “i promise i won't pry or push, i’ll give you all the space you need—”

“i promise i won't,” yeonjun finally looked at you properly—you were so close, he hadn’t noticed when you moved closer, but he felt warm inside from your words despite his increasing weakness. he knew you'd keep your promise, and he wanted to do the same for you. “thank you. really,” he tried to smile but it came out tired, and he closed his eyes for a second as if trying to rest at least a little. 

you noticed his state and, if you were honest, you weren't feeling too great either—new discoveries had exhausted you more than anything, and it lashed terribly with your cold. “you should lie down. we should,” you whispered, already feeling your body giving in, craving sleep.

yeonjun nodded, running fingers through his hair once again, weakness seeping almost into his bones. he had woken up too early, slept too little, and your couch wasn't exactly the best place to sleep so his body was sore, and he was mentally drained too. “okay,” he said quietly, standing up, palms rubbing his face. “you really should sleep more… i’ll be in the living room. call for me if you need anything, okay?”

you didn't let him leave, though, your fingers clenching the sleeve of his hoodie as you looked up at him. “you can sleep here,” you whispered, leaving yeonjun surprised. “if you are okay with it,” you added quickly, mentally slapping yourself—you had just said you wouldn't be pushy, and yet here you were. “i'm… fine with it. the bed is big enough. but if you don't want to—”

actually, it was too inviting. your bed was so soft, your laundry smelled so nice too—yeonjun made a mental note to ask you about the conditioner—and most importantly, it was bigger than your couch. and while his bed was even bigger, he didn't want to leave you alone. and he was too tired to fight you. “thank you,” he mumbled, getting onto the bed and moving the tray you had left there out of the way.  

you lied down, curling into a ball facing him. you weren't sure if it'd be better to face away, but you decided that you were so sleepy, that it wouldn't matter in a few minutes. it was probably the same for him, judging by the way he lay on his back and closed his eyes immediately, his body visibly relaxing. so you just tightened your hold around the big fox plushie, pressing it closer to your chest, and closed your eyes. you hoped being wild roses wouldn't draw a line between you two that you'd never be able to cross.

when you woke up later, the first thing you saw was the side of yeonjun's face, still sleeping peacefully, one of his hand resting behind his head, and he also had taken off his hoodie at some point, leaving him in just a black tank top. you moved a bit closer to each other in sleep—not too close, of course, but close enough that his other hand rested on your knee over the thin blanket. the feeling was strange—not just the warmth of his hand, heavy in a comforting way even through the fabric, but everything about you two felt strange, because somehow, it was too comfortable. as if this was how everything was supposed to be. and that thought alone made you feel uneasy.

you tried to get up as quietly and unnoticeably as possible, wanting to get some water, but yeonjun stirred awake anyway. 

“lay back down,” he said, firm but somehow still gentle, his voice a bit hoarse. you looked over your shoulder cautiously, but he hadn’t moved even an inch, eyes still closed. yeonjun waited for a few seconds, and when he didn’t feel any movement from your side, he opened his eyes and looked at you without changing position, only slightly turning his head.

he didn’t even say anything—his gaze was more than enough, as you laid back down with a small pout. “wanted to get some water,” you mumbled, pulling the blanket back over yourself the way it was before you sat up. “was i supposed to wake you up for that?” you asked, a hint of sarcasm in your voice, though not a biting one.

yeonjun ignored it. “yes,” he said firmly and sat up, ruffling his hair. he felt much sleepier than sounded, but his body wasn't as weak anymore—he probably just needed a few more hours of sleep, and a bit of certainty that everything was going to be fine. he was thankful that you let him sleep in your bed and that you didn’t act like for whatever reason you both being wild roses meant the end of the world, because he still couldn’t understand the way he felt about it. “i told you i’ll take care of you,” he stated, standing up and heading for the kitchen.

and yeonjun didn’t lie—he took great care of you, so you were back to life in a few days. he barely let you get up unless you needed to go to the bathroom or wanted to stretch your legs, cooked for you or ordered something tasty when you had to eat but didn’t want anything, checked your temperature every few hours even at night, and basically did anything you wanted or needed—even if it meant treat you like a bratty child, when you wanted something you didn’t actually need in your state. but you obeyed him so cutely, with a pout or death stare sent his way as if you were saying ‘i’ll do it but i’ll make sure you know i don’t want to’.

but no matter how much yeonjun enjoyed spending time with you, how comfortable he felt sleeping in your bed and how much he loved your bratty obedience, he could barely feel any of it, pushing all of his thoughts and feelings away until he was back in the safety of his home, where he could just sit and do his best to organize everything that was happening in his head. he barely noticed how he shut down from you, almost forgetting to say goodbye when he was leaving your apartment once you were back to health.

you gave all the space yeonjun needed, just like you promised, but by the end of the first week you started assuming he hadn’t kept his promise, because while before it took him mere minutes to reply to your messages unless he was working, now it took at least hours. and the text you sent on saturday morning was left unread, still sitting there even on sunday. so you gave up completely, no matter how painful it felt even to think about it.

you had to force yourself not to text yeonjun out of habit for the whole monday, unlocking and immediately locking your phone back every ten minutes—you’d never noticed how much you messaged each other before, and now you felt lonely without it. but if he thought that’s what was the best for him, you had no right to hold him back. 

soobin noticed something was wrong, and he wanted so badly to keep you company so you wouldn’t be left alone, but he had plans that had been set for weeks already. he told you he could reschedule them anytime, but you swore you were fine and that it wasn’t a big deal. still, soobin texted yeonjun, saying he wouldn’t be able to keep you company on your way home tonight, and yeonjun replied with a simple ‘np, i’ll do that’ a few hours later, less than twenty minutes before your workday was over. 

yeonjun didn't even notice how badly he had neglected you over the weekend—two days and a monday flew by in a blur of sleep and endless overthinking any second he wasn't sleeping. he hadn’t even looked at the clock, his phone lying somewhere uncharged since friday evening until he finally plugged it in on monday afternoon and immediately got soobin’s message. but the moment he saw notification, he rushed to check his chat with you—one unread ‘good morning, mint choco ice cream prince’ from saturday morning—and realized he bad he had fucked up. but at least he had an opportunity to try to make it up to you. throwing on the first clothes he could find, he almost ran out of the house—it was a twenty-minute walk to your work. 

these past few days hadn’t been easy for yeonjun, and he still wasn’t sure he was anywhere close to understanding what exactly he felt. in fact, it felt like he was unbelievably far from it, but when he realized it might be too late at all, none of it mattered anymore. he didn’t care about his trust issues, his past lying lover, or finding out why opening up was so terrifying—he had to do everything right and deal with the rest later.

yeonjun’s fear wasn’t irrational, but you had nothing to do with it, nothing to do with the scars he had carried for years. so many years ago, in his highschool years, while he was studying half the world away from home, he had met his soulmate—it was a dream come true. he was still young, and he couldn’t believe his luck. she was a wild rose too, and her confession felt like destiny. 

for nearly a year, he had lived in blissful ignorance, believing the universe had gifted him a perfect bond. it was impossible to check it properly—they were too close to feel each other’s pain intensely, but she had always known when he fell in the p.e. class or burned himself on something while sitting in a café with his friends, and to him, that was proof enough. he thought it was impossible to love someone more, and would have done anything for her, loving her fiercely and giving himself completely, as though nothing in the world could shatter their connection. 

but then it had shattered. she had been particularly insatiable that evening, leaving red lines all over his back with her nails—she had always enjoyed doing it. while it went against  everything he had heard about the bond—he was the one leaning toward causing pain—he brushed it off, because too many things about that bond were myths, and this was probably another one. but that time she had gone further than usual, and it hurt—still nothing he couldn’t endure, though. 

but just a bit later, when she was sound asleep on yeonjun’s chest, his hand was gently playing with her hair, he thought that he was probably the happiest person in the world. but then he felt it—the distinct, burning heartbreak of his soulmate—his true soulmate. it wasn’t his. of course it wasn't, he had felt like he was blessed, but that pain didn’t belong to the one sleeping on his chest either. it was like an arrow piercing through him, the kind of pain that was impossible to fake, and suddenly, he wasn’t so sure it wasn’t his, because the realization that the girl he loved had lied about being his soulmate hit harder than any betrayal he could have imagined. she hadn’t just broken his trust, she’d made a mockery of something sacred. 

the break up was ugly, and yeonjun wished he could erase it from his memory. at first, she tried to gaslight him, but then she played on all of his painful buttons—the ones she had discovered over the course of a year—like a silly melody on a piano. the last words he heard from her were about how he would never find his soulmate, and even if he did, they’d never want to deal with someone as pathetic as him, and how he’d wish he’d never pushed her away. he lost one of his best friends back then too—it turned out he had been the source of all her knowledge about all yeonjun’s injuries, and that was the reason he had stuck to yeonjun’s side so constantly. 

yeonjun finished highschool there—the bond with his real soulmate shut itself down in those months, but he barely noticed it—and returned home, despite having once dreamed of continuing his education abroad. being there felt unbearable, and he had an almost maddening need to breathe the air of his homeland. it helped, but only a little—he had to busy himself with something, and so it became endless dancing until he could barely get up from the floor of the practice room, studying from dusk to dawn, depriving himself of sleep some nights, and trying to find any information on the wild rose bond to define what was true and what was merely myth.

but despite searching for every wild rose yeonjun could find online, talking to them and even meeting a few of them—especially the ones who had found their soulmate—he never got closer to any of them than his research required. he had vowed to never open up to wild roses who hadn’t yet met their soulmates—he couldn’t risk that pain again. it made sense—he didn’t want anyone to exploit the bond for their own benefit, especially someone desperate enough to lie about it, like she had. it was hard to confirm being soulmates back then, but now it was almost impossible with the way he hadn’t felt his soulmate for years. 

there were other reasons too—the ones yeonjun didn’t want to admit even to himself, but had to while thinking about why the fact that you were a wild rose scared him so much. he feared his own judgment—if he had been completely blind once, what was stopping it from happening again? what if his feelings clouded his ability to see the truth? again. he feared the weight of the bond that connected all wild roses, soulmates or not, because two lonely wild roses, especially at his age, would inevitably step into a world of sharing vulnerabilities, emotions, and feelings, and it had started with you already. it’d mean opening himself up for your pain, and you doing the same for him, and he wasn’t sure he could go through more pain—both giving and taking—after the same thing happening before his connection with his soulmate had gotten shut. 

but most of all, yeonjun feared repeating what was probably the greatest mistake of his life—giving his heart to the wrong person, only to realize the truth when it was too late, when they had already dug their fingers into it hard enough to hurt him. knowing that you were a wild rose, made all of these fears he had never really worked through crashing back in full force. it wasn’t that he didn’t trust you—it was that he couldn’t trust himself.

all of that could be dealt with later, though. yeonjun knew you weren't a problem, he was one—he always was one, just like when he had almost ruined everything in the beginning. he would accept it if you decided to end your friendship, but he at least had to try to do everything right, and he definitely owed you an explanation.

you were so lost in thoughts on your way home, that you barely saw anything or anyone around you. was yeonjun at least okay? he had spent half a week with you when you had a cold, maybe he had caught it from you and was now lying feverish in his bed, while you were too preoccupied with self-pity to even check on him? the thought was making you walk faster—you had to check on him, goddammit. there were basically two steps between your doors, and yet you didn't try to at least ring the doorbell, afraid he wouldn’t want to see you. 

your shoulder collided with someone else's, and you threw out a quick but sincere apology, not having the time to stop and check on them. the person was tall, and their shoulder barely moved at the impact, so you assumed they'd be fine. your steps became even quicker, but then a voice from behind made you stop in your tracks.

“i don't take you to work just one day, and you're already—a: not wearing a scarf after having a cold not so long ago, and b: completely careless on the streets?” yeonjun teased you, smile—he just couldn't keep it inside—perfectly audible in his voice. he missed you so much—just seeing you already made him a bit happier.

you turned around and had to basically force yourself not to run to him after just one glance at him. but yeonjun still spread his arms a bit, trying not to make it look like he was forcing you into it, нуе still showing that he wasn’t just ‘not against it', but that he wanted it too. of course, you ran into his hold—how could you not? maybe it looked questionable, maybe friends didn't do that—though you were sure they did—but he was healthy, well and smiling right in front of you. and you missed him.

yeonjun was warm in your arms, and his hold was firm but gentle, as he palmed the back of your head, his thumb caressing your hair. “i'm so sorry, mouse,” he murmured, tightening his hold on you and involuntarily making you do the same. “i was an asshole. the biggest one,” and i feel blessed because you're not pushing me away, he continued in his head.

“it's fine,” you mumbled into his shoulder, fingers clenching his hoodie under the coat. you both knew it actually wasn't, you had both done things that made no sense, but it didn't matter now, because it was something that could be worked with now. “if you were one, it only means i have no self-respect right now, hugging an asshole.”

yeonjun laughed warmly at your words, letting you go. he untied the scarf from his neck, hooking it over yours and carefully tightening it despite your protests. “is it comfortable?” he asked, but instead of an answer, you tried to give it back to him, and he took your hands in his to stop you, his palms warm and comfortable against the back of your hands. “behave. i asked you if it was comfortable.” 

you pouted—you missed his ordering around, but you were worried about him too. you knew he wouldn't let you take the scarf off, though, so you pulled your hands away from his hold, reached out stubbornly, and wrapped the hood of his hoodie around his bare neck carefully, trying to not touch his skin with your cold fingers. “now more comfortable,” you stated, looking at him with a stubborn expression and realizing he'd been watching you with a soft smile all the time while you were doing it. 

“okay,” yeonjun said, his smile widening. he enjoyed watching you find ways to do your thing while, well, still behaving. and of course your care made him feel warm inside—not that no one cared about him; of course, his friends did and would do it, but you noticed the smallest things about him and his comfort. “home or café?” he asked as you two started walking towards your apartments, shoulders occasionally brushing against each other. “i owe you an explanation, i think.”

“hm?” you looked at him in question. well, if he wanted to… not that you felt like it was necessary. “i’d prefer the café, but if you really want to explain it and having extra ears around might make you uncomfortable, i’d definitely prefer home,” you admitted, and added after a few seconds. “but maybe takeout then?”

yeonjun looked at you almost weirdly. you were definitely one of a kind—who would even care about ‘extra ears’ around? the way you cared for his comfort was making him almost giddy. “it’s fine, don’t worry. our café?” he asked, and you nodded, both of you thinking of the word ‘our’ and how natural it sounded.

the café was rather crowded, but most people were choosing takeout, so at least you wouldn’t have to stay in the queue for a table. was yeonjun still sure it was fine, though?.. had he expected so many people? maybe—little nudge to your shoulder pulled you out of your thoughts, and yeonjun pointed at the empty table in the corner. you got a hint immediately, already turning away when he wrapped his fingers around your wrist and tugged your hand to get your attention.

“sweet or hearty?” yeonjun asked, not letting your wrist go, as if you’d run away without answering his question the moment he did. 

you thought for a second, considering what you wanted more. “hearty,” you said finally, and he let your wrist go with a warm smile and little ‘okay’. “but i’m paying next time,” you said before turning around to go to the table, to which yeonjun only shook his head—you were adorable in your determination. 

when you finally sat down, the atmosphere became tense again—yet another heavy topic hovering over the two of you. you realized that you hated that feeling of discomfort around yeonjun and decided that you’d do your best to avoid it in the future by trying to talk everything out as early as possible. you simply hoped he felt the same and would be open to communication too. 

yeonjun didn’t go into details—they weren’t needed, and he told you that it wasn’t an easy topic and he still needed time—but what he said was enough for you. he said that he was in almost a year-long relationship with another wild rose who claimed she was his soulmate, but he found out she was lying when he felt the deep pain of his real soulmate, and it couldn’t be her. he said he was afraid of opening up again, especially when it came to wild roses—not only because he was afraid of being lied to again, but because any close relationship with a wild rose would end up in opening up. it wasn’t everything, yeonjun knew it perfectly, but he prayed it’d be enough as a first step. 

you asked him if he would avoid you if he knew from the very beginning, and after gathering all the bravery he could find, ру admitted that he most probably would. but he was quick to add that he didn’t regret befriending you and would lose so much if he let his prejudices cloud his judgement—thanks to you, he realized that his past behaviour was stupid and maybe even harmful to people around him. but he knew you focused on the first part of his answer to your question, despite many words after, and was anxious to hear what you had to say.

but you only surprised him with a small smile and said that you were fond of how real and true to himself he was, not trying to tell you that you were “different” and that he’d “never let his trust issues come between you two, even in the very beginning”. you weren’t asking it to test him or anything; the question left your mouth before you could think it through, but his answer was exactly what you wanted to hear, even if you didn’t know it—especially the many words he added after it.

yeonjun had known for a long enough time that you were surprising, but now he realized he couldn’t wait to find out more. but he also wanted to be just as caring and accepting for you, which it meant he had to continue opening up. it was a good thing that you didn’t look or sound judgemental when he talked about his past—you only nodded and said it was understandable, because soulmate bonds were sacred and it was especially so for wild roses; getting betrayed like that would affect anyone. 

the conversation didn’t fix everything on the spot, of course. you both knew that no matter how much you tried to ignore it, being wild roses would affect the way you communicated, especially when there were many things about it that you shared. when you confessed to yeonjun that you had no idea how to act around him now to not hurt him more, he promised—adding that he knew his promises seemed to mean nothing, but he still wanted you to believe him—that he would take the lead in your friendship if you weren’t against giving him control. you let out a breath and said you’d be happy if he did. surprising him again, of course.

yeonjun kept both the new promise and the previous one of not shutting you out—you slowly but surely started getting closer again, but sometimes on a more sentimental level than before, almost fully led by him. it wasn’t hard for you, because he often knew what you wanted or needed, and even when he didn’t, you had no problem with telling him straight, and he adjusted whatever needed to be adjusted so it was comfortable for both of you. 

you wished, though, the gap would get smaller just a bit faster, because sometimes you still walked on tiptoes around him and had to bite your tongue before joking about something like clicking so well on your shared patheticness regarding your soulmate situations. you knew he’d be fine with it—jokes like that slipped from your lips one or two times accidentally, and he laughed despite your endless apologies—but you were still afraid to say something wrong, knowing you didn’t know everything about his soulmate bond. and while you didn’t want to push him into opening up, keeping yourself back wasn’t too easy either. 

but you found out you had to be much more careful with what you wished for, when one friday you were called from work a bit after lunch break because you were flooding your neighbours from below. you thanked the heavens it was cold water, not hot, while basically running home, where your landlord had already been present with plumbing service and an electrician. turned out it wasn’t you’ it was your neighbours above. the good thing was, the damage done by the flooding wasn’t too huge—it mostly went down the wall. the bad thing? it went down the wall right behind the electricity panel.

the water supply in the apartment above was turned off by the time you arrived, so you sat in the living room waiting for the electrician to check how bad thongs was. it wasn’t too comfortable, as the power supply that was keeping the apartment warm had been turned off immediately, and it was one of the coldest weeks this winter—you didn’t even take your jacket off, not wanting to get cold. 

yeonjun arrived not so long after you—his apartment wasn’t flooded, he just had a day off and went to meet his family for brunch, and he was surprised to find the door to your apartment wide open in the middle of the day, when you were supposed to be working. he rushed to it, afraid something could happen to you, but only found you sitting on the couch of your living room, warming your hands between your thighs. 

you only gave him a brief description of what had happened, when the electrician came up to you and said that it’d be better not to turn on the power supply for a few days until it dried completely, and that you should call electricity services about three or four days later so they could check if it was safe to turn it on. he asked if you had a place to stay, and you threw a quick glance at yeonjun, who only nodded—his place was yours whenever you needed. 

so when everyone left, he helped you pack the stuff you might need at his place these few days and let you in, telling you a list of his apartment rules—you could do anything you wanted, take anything you needed, use anything your heart desired, but you had to tell him if you finished something so he could buy it—you were listening carefully, almost making notes to yourself.

“so… what else…” yeonjun turned to you. there wasn’t much to show you as you’d spent enough time there already and more or less knew everything. “oh, right. the most important thing,” he waited for your nod that showed you were ready to write it down in your head. “pineapple pizza is prohibited unless you persuade me well enough that you need it, and you have to prove your loyalty by eating mint choco ice cream every five hours,” the death stare you gave him only made him more playful. “even in the middle of the night, mouse. no exceptions,” he added as seriously as possible.

you looked at your bags that were still unpacked by the front door and tapped your chin as if you were thinking. “if i kill you by rapidly hitting you with a pillow right now, i might have enough time to grab my stuff and get an alibi…” you said, pretending to think out loud.

yeonjun only laughed, hooking his arm over your shoulder and leading you to the living room to sit on the couch. “i beg you. the only way i’d die if you try to do that, is from laughing at your pathetic attempts to overpower me,” he said through laughter, making you roll your eyes, but your smile betrayed what you really felt. you were happy. 

you ended up staying at yeonjun's place longer—at first until the next weekend instead of the beginning of the next week, because, for whatever reason, the electrician couldn't come earlier, and when he finally checked the electricity panel, it turned out a few really important parts had been flooded and it was impossible to air dry them, so you had to wait until their replacements arrived, and the estimated date of arrival was rather vague. if the first ‘living period extension’ made you feel bad, by the second one, yeonjun completely assured you that it was fine and he was actually happy to have you there.

sharing an apartment and sharing a bed—you agreed that it made no sense for either of you to suffer on the couch as yeonjun’s bed was even bigger than yours, and, well, you had slept together in yours already—had indeed brought you closer. it wasn’t exactly easy to hide melancholy, annoyance or, let alone, anger from someone you lived with, and it was hard to keep the reason to yourself when that someone was ready to give you listening ears, support, encouragement and anything you needed. so yeonjun started to open up to you too, slowly, including his soulmate situation.

it started with tiny glimpses of things he had felt when he was younger, presented in the form of questions—similar to the one he had asked about cross-stitching on the first day. but the biggest one was probably about period cramps. you remembered it well—you had never seen yeonjun that embarrassed and it was… cute. he barely cared when your period started while you were staying at his place, making sure you were comfortable and had everything you needed, but asking about it was completely different. 

yeonjun had noticed that you functioned more or less fine, only occasionally holding your lower tummy and refusing to take painkillers because it “wasn’t that bad”. it reminded him of how he used to experience really bad cramps every month when he was younger, but then, suddenly, they stopped. he later found out it was caused by his soulmate’s period at those moments, but he had been too embarrassed to ask someone why the pain had suddenly lessened, despite being incredibly curious about it. but he felt a bit more confident with you to ask about it, and the question wasn’t completely out of nowhere too. still, he couldn’t help but feel embarrassed when the words left his mouth.

you were taken aback by the question, but assumed that it could happen because of birth-control pills, as many of them had that side-effect, as well as making pms a bit less… annoying. yeonjun barely thought before asking if your weren’t in that much pain because you were on pills too—he immediately wanted to apologize for the question, but you just shrugged and said that he was right. despite having really bad cramps when your period had first started in your early teenage years, you only experienced slight discomfort now, having taken the pills for years. 

but later yeonjun started letting you in more on the topic. it turned out that he hadn’t felt his soulmate for a really long time either, and breaking up with that liar of a wild rose was basically the reason why it happened. but he never called it ‘broken’; he always used ‘shut down’ when talking about it. when you asked him why he called it that way, he found out you had almost no idea how the bond worked, so he sat you on the couch and brought the box he thought he’d never touch again—not because of some bad memories or anything, but because he just didn’t need it anymore. yet it’d be much easier to explain everything he knew using these. 

yeonjun gave you the box and sat next to you on the couch. “you can open it and look through anything you find interesting,” he said, watching the way you hesitantly opened it and turned to him to take all the things out on the couch between you—a few notebooks, a tiny sketchbook, a bunch of different rose-themed tiny things, and a book, not bigger than his palm. looking at all of that was almost nostalgic for yeonjun.

the first thing that caught your attention was a little folded paper. you looked at yeonjun in question if you could read it, and he simply nodded. you opened it carefully, a big logo on the top of it catching your eye. soulmate matchmaking agency. you knew what the letter was—a mere automatic reply to any wild rose. you had a similar one lying somewhere between books you hadn't touched in years. 

they refused to work with wild roses for ethical reasons—it wasn't easy to check if two individuals of that bond were soulmates. you wondered if they still had that type of bond on their site in the drop-down list, only to send a refusal letter with apologies and some pathetic rose-themed souvenir. you got a postcard? you weren't sure. out of all possible things, you got the most stupid one. 

it probably was written all over your face, because yeonjun chuckled. “familiar letter?” he asked and you nodded. “i don't know why i saved it. probably just threw it there to all the other stuff when i got it,” he shrugged. “i sent an application, but found out they don't work with wild roses on some forums even before receiving… that. maybe they printed too many rose postcards and needed to get rid of them?”

you laughed and put the letter away, carefully taking the book next. you smiled, looking at it, your thumb caressing the cover gently—the silver decorations immediately caught your attention, when you saw it so many years ago in a box in the furthest room of your local library. you fell in love with it. the book was simply beautiful, and it looked good despite how old it was—it was maybe from the late 19th century, and you had no idea how a book so old could end up in a small library in some dusty old box where you found it. fleur de destin.

it felt like your fingers moved on its own when you opened page 138, making you realize that it was actually the number of your apartment now—what a coincidence. ‘rose sauvage’ was written at the top of it in a beautiful font, with drawings of thorny roses decorating it. you spent weeks looking at that page; translating old-fashioned french wasn’t too easy for an elementary schooler, especially as you had to use every translating dictionary you could find. and the result still was… questionable, but it was better than nothing. 

“so i can see you’re familiar with the book,” yeonjun said, when he saw how quickly you found the needed page and the way you smiled at it—almost fondly, as if you had only good memories about it. 

you nodded. “i found the same book in a library nearby when i was a child,” your gaze quickly ran over the lines you couldn’t even remember properly now. it was the only information you had on your bond for years, and it only had five ‘rules’—much less than other bonds in the book—and your translation left you with only three that you could understand properly. “i translated it, and it took a really long time to do it. and, still two of them made no sense, no matter how much i tried.” 

yeonjun’s eyes widened. “you translated it yourself? when you were a child? from french?” he was shocked. you were truly impressive—just like them. it wasn’t easy for him, when he was grown up; some words were extremely confusing, and putting them together in a sentence made it sound strange. “what exactly didn’t make sense to you?”

you looked at the lines again, finding the word ‘souffrance’. “the fourth one. i barely remember it, to be honest, but…” you bit your lip trying to recall the way you translated it. “something like… when it comes to pain, where one lacks, the other one has a lot?..” you said uncertainly. “and, um, it’s perfect and it won’t change. my only idea was about one being in pain and another not being in pain, but it sounded weird,” you admitted. 

your words make yeonjun chuckle. “it makes sense why you couldn’t understand it,” he smiled at you and took one of the notebooks lying on the couch. “the translation is a bit off, and you were also too young to understand the meaning,” he said, flipping through the pages. “it was ‘in matters of agony, where one is found wanting, the other is abundant, for such balance is divinely ordained and cannot be undone’,” he read out loud his note and looked up. 

you couldn’t help but let out a giggle. “you kept the old-fashioned style while translating?” it was so him—finding anything ‘yeonjun’ quickly became your favourite thing. “i loved it, though it barely cleared anything up.”

he shrugged. “anything for aesthetics,” he said, full of himself—he enjoyed how open you were about liking something he did, sometimes seeing the simplest things as if he put the stars in the sky. his friends sometimes used feeding his ego—or feeding his authoritative side—when they needed something from him, and yeonjun saw it perfectly, because it was a 180° switch in their behaviour, but he knew they actually thought that way, just kept it to themselves, so he gave in. and with you, it was almost the same, except you showed it—both admiration and obedience, actually—without exaggeration, it was exactly the way you felt. 

you smiled at yeonjun's proud face—confidence looked good on him, it was making him more attractive—you hadn’t even noticed the way the world slipped into your mind. you looked back at the book you were holding. “for aesthetics, but not for understandings?” you joked, before reaching out for the notebook he was holding to look at the proper translation, and he gave it to you without any problems. “so… instead of ‘lacks’, it’s ‘wants’,” you looked up and he nodded. “while one wants pain the other one… feels it?” it still made no sense. 

yeonjun shook his head. “not exactly. i'm sure you have read about it if you googled the bond,” he paused looking at the way you tried to recall anything that would be similar. “it's not that the other one feels it, they have it,” he explained. 

“is it…” you bit your lip, nails scratching finger pads in nervousness. you'd make a complete fool of yourself if you phrased it the way everyone said it, and it turned out to be not what he meant. you cleared your throat, deciding to use different words. “they have it for giving. is it about that…?” you threw a glance at yeonjun, and he obviously understood what you meant, but it seemed like he wanted you to say it straight. “about sadism—”

“and masochism, yes,” he finished for you with a foxy smile, ending the torture. “basically, it means one wants to receive pain and another one wants to give it, and they never switch roles,” yeonjun explained, watching your expressions. somehow, your reaction was important to him, as if deep inside, he wanted to know if his dreams were… realistic.

you bit your lip as your heart started beating faster—the conversation felt exposing, as if yeonjun knew the dirty things happening in your head. but it was one of the most commonly mentioned things about the bond, so it was nothing like that. “so… is any wild rose either a sadist or masochist?” you asked uncertainly, trying to fill the silence. “it's impossible for it to be different?”

yeonjun tilted head. the way you asked it… you weren't either of two and was thinking you were… broken in some way? “i don't think so,” he said, wanting to assure you that you weren't broken in any way. but the thought of his dreams lying to him about how much you enjoyed pain still hovered over him, and he tried to shoosh them away. “um, it also mentions ‘balance’, and while it's hard to find the truth, i think it's about the amount of pain.”

“you think… the balance is not in wanting to give or to receive pain, but in the amount they want to give or receive?” you asked, not completely sure you got him right. it made perfect sense—it was about soulmates after all. they were supposed to be perfect for each other in every way.

“yep,” yeonjun nodded. “i can’t be completely sure, because people usually keep that side of their lives to themselves… but i knew a couple who were rather open about it,” he chuckled, when he saw your widened eyes. “not in detail, i’m not that kind of a perv,” he laughed before continuing. “so one of them was a sadist and another one was a masochist, and they were… hardcore with it. the sadist one said that despite having a safe word, it was never used, simply because the masochist one always wanted to receive the exact amount of pain the sadist one wanted to give. and vice versa, of course.”

that’s how it was?.. once again, it made sense, and now it was obvious you wouldn’t have understood it back then, even with the right translation. “so, a soft sadist can’t be a hardcore masochist’s soulmate?” you asked, though you already knew what yeonjun would say. “they’re just incompatible.”

he nodded. “they are. it’s one of the way to check if you’re soulmates, but of course, a rather vague one,” yeonjun said and looked away in thought—should he tell more about his ex?.. he threw a glance at you. you seemed so soft, one of his sweaters on you—you’d gotten cold a few hours ago, and he just gave you the one he was wearing, as he was going to change into something thinner anyway. you weren't fidgeting with the book anymore, just hugging your knees to your chest and listening to him, softly slipping into melancholy. he didn't want to talk to you about his ex for whatever reason, it felt like mentioning her would shake the peaceful atmosphere. “so… yeah,” he said, trying to finish the thought.

you tilted your head, assuming yeonjun hadn’t said something he wanted to say, but shook it off—it was his right. you had something you were interested in anyway. “how does it feel for a sadist, though?” you asked, and he looked at you in question. “i mean, they enjoy giving pain, but when they do it to their soulmate, they should be feeling it too,” you explained. 

yeonjun shook his head. he was surprised how little you knew about the bond, but didn’t blame you—he spent years trying to find out the truth about how it worked in the midst of myths. “the bond has a bunch of… fuses? to protect soulmates,” he hoped you’d understand what he meant. “one wild rose can barely feel the pain they cause their soulmate, and self-inflicted pain isn’t exactly shared too, unless it’s the fifty-fifty rule—” he suddenly stopped. “you know the fifty-fifty rule, right?” 

you nodded. “any strong pain is shared equally, no matter the distance. they’d feel it even next to each other,” you said before biting your lip. “these… ‘fuses’ make it almost impossible to check if someone is your soulmate,” you sighed—its ‘protection’ felt more like a cage for one. was it protecting? yes, in some way. was it helping with finding your soulmate? not at all. “you can't pinch yourself to see if the person would feel it, because you're already near each other, and that fuse lessens it even more. the same goes for pinching the person to see if you'd feel it. how are you supposed to find your soulmate like that?”

these thoughts weren’t unfamiliar to yeonjun—he used to think that way for a long time, but eventually just accepted it, not wanting to make thoughts he already had worse. “you’re destined to meet with them, it’d bring you together no matter what,” he wasn’t sure he believed it himself—if it was true, he’d meet his soulmate by now, and you’d meet yours too. “even a shut down bond shouldn’t affect it. at least that’s how it’s supposed to work.”

you hugged your knees closer to your chest, laying your cheek on the couch’s backrest. “you keep on saying your bond is ‘shut down’, not ‘broken’ like mine,” you mumbled, caressing the rose keychain you took from the box, thorns tickling your thumb—the one similar to the one you had on the key you gave yeonjun the day you started talking.

yeonjun ran his fingers through his hair—it was easy to explain the concept, but it was much harder to explain that he believed it because he just wanted to. “it’s believed to be one of the fuses. when pain goes in cycles between soulmates, the bond shuts itself down to break the cycle until they stop hurting,” he explained, realizing how stupid it actually sounded, considering it had been shut down for him for almost a decade, even when the pain wasn’t so bad anymore.

you didn’t say anything—conversations about soulmates weren’t easy, especially when it felt like with each day the possibility of finding your soulmate was slipping through your fingers faster and faster. but it wasn’t the worst thing, because feeling the way you started slowly growing indifferent to it was much worse. you never realized how much of you was built on that bond and the trauma that went with it, until you started losing it, as well as losing yourself. you knew you wanted to let go of it, but you had no idea who you would be without it anymore. 

and then there was a thing you feared more than anything—if you open your heart to someone who wasn’t your soulmate, if you dared to fall in love with them, it meant that person still had their soulmate somewhere out there, and when they finally met them… you swallowed the lump in your throat—you hadn’t thought about it beforehand. you thought that opening yourself up to falling for someone who wasn’t your soulmate would protect you from the heartbreak caused by not meeting your soulmate, but in the end, it seemed like it’d only bring more pain. and now, it felt like dying alone was the lesser evil.

“do you really believe it’s unbreakable?..” you asked quietly, not sure if you were asking yeonjun it or thinking out loud. 

he didn’t reply immediately—he didn’t know, never thought of it. never wanted to think of it. and he decided to continue running away from it. “as far as i know, fleur de destin is right about—”

you interrupted him. “not fleur de destin. you,” you looked up. “do you believe it’s unbreakable?”

“i don’t know,” yeonjun admitted, looking away. “maybe i’d love to believe that i still have that connection with my soulmate despite not feeling them anymore,” he said quietly, his voice barely audible. “that there's still the possibility of meeting them one day and knowing for sure they are mine,” he swallowed thickly—opening up to anyone feeling too strange. he barely let these thoughts out in the open in his own head, but now he was saying it aloud to someone else. but it was you... “and i'm not sure which one is more painful—hope or lack of it,” he finished in almost whisper.

you didn't know either. you thought you’d experienced both, but could you be completely certain you had truly lost hope at some point?.. now, when you thought you were almost ready to give up and open your heart to someone else, you felt like your own thoughts and feelings were pushing you back in that cage—it was safe there, it was familiar there. was it the way losing hope felt? trying to dig your nails into it as deep as possible just to not let it go?

“i think mine is broken,” you mumbled, apathy slowly rising to the surface in an attempt to protect you from your own feelings. “not shut down. just broken. if it's impossible, i'm an exception. an error or a system failure. something broken,” you finished quietly. 

yeonjun felt his heart breaking at the way your voice sounded so empty and quiet; at how small you looked, hugging your knees to your chest, side of your head resting lifelessly on the backrest; at the empty look in your eyes as you looked through him. you looked like a shell right now, feelings and emotions turned off just so it didn't hurt so much. 

he quickly put everything back in the box and moved a bit closer to you, making space to lie down as he held his hand out to you. “come here,” yeonjun whispered softly, and you put your hand in his without thinking, not hesitating for a second. he tugged you closer, his other hand resting on your back, guiding you down until you were lying on his chest. “yes, just like that,” he praised you gently, one of his hands finding its place on the back of your head, playing with your hair to relax you. 

and you relaxed—obviously relaxed—in yeonjun's hold, and it felt so good for him. almost as good as when you lifted your hand to rest it on his chest, and he felt that you weren't just accepting his hug anymore, but were returning it—in the way you could in your current state. the way you shifted slightly up his body to be a little closer made his heart skip a beat—it felt like your coping indifference was slowly disappearing, making you seek comfort instead of accepting just anything, and you were seeking it from him.

yeonjun wanted to tell you that recently he started thinking more and more often that soulmates were overrated, and that maybe he wanted to just give up on waiting for that ‘one and only’ and open himself to someone else; that you weren't broken at all, and if you were, it’d make two of you. but he only whispered the sweetest praises he could come up with, hoping to pull you out of that dark place completely. 

it was nice—the nicest you'd ever felt, probably. yeonjun’s hold was warm and comfortable; it felt firm but still gentle, his arms safe, protecting you from anything—even from yourself. you could barely understand what he was saying, but it sounded like something so nice, and his breathy, soft voice lulled you to sleep better than any lullaby you'd ever heard. it felt like all of your senses were overwhelmed with him—his scent, his touches, his voice—and it felt like home.

the same thought appeared in your heads almost at the same time. but while yours was more like a phantom of a thought in a tired, half-asleep brain that you probably wouldn’t even remember the next morning, yeonjun's one was bright and clear as a day. since he discovered that you were a wild rose and told you he was one too, the line of friendship—that already seemed blurry for some people who saw you together—seemed to be fading slowly, and he was the one doing it almost on purpose. he’d promised you to lead your friendship, and you’d trusted him to do so. would you hate him for leading it in that direction?..

yeonjun fell asleep a bit later—he tried to think about what to do next, when you would wake up on his chest and probably freak out, trying to pretend it never happened, and what to do later to bring you back closer, when you tried to keep the distance after falling asleep on him. he was a selfish man, and you seemed just perfect for him—as a friend for sure, as something more… he didn't know yet. but he didn't want to let you go. he would—of course, he would—if you told him to, but he saw the way you needed him, knew that he was the first person you came to when you needed comfort and warmth.

the thoughts were tiring yeonjun out too much, though, and he decided to just go with the flow and watch you—after all, you kept surprising him, maybe you'd surprise him here too. so he closed his eyes and focused on the sound of your breathing and the way it felt so nice under his collarbone. your scent was enveloping him too, but he couldn't get rid of the thin, barely noticeable notes of his scent—perfume, hand soap, laundry conditioner—woven into yours, and he tried to push the thoughts of possession and belonging away, filling his head with you and falling into soft, gentle hands of sleep.

yeonjun woke up just a few hours later, in the middle of the night, from you fidgeting on top of him. at first, he thought you were having another wet dream—it wasn't that you got them too often, but he had woken up to your soft, barely heard whimpers only a few times, and it was enough for him to grasp what exactly you dreamed about. and, maybe, who you dreamed about too.

the first time it happened, on the second night of you staying at his place, yeonjun was almost scared, when he returned after jerking off in the bathroom—he had a wet dream that night too—and found you curled into a ball and whimpering. he thought you were having a nightmare. he crouched down next to the bed and tried to stir you awake, but you seemed a bit… strange for someone who was just awakened from a nightmare. you sat down to pull yourself together a bit, and he smelled it, it felt like he could almost taste your arousal, and it tasted so sweet, he nearly popped a boner again. 

you avoided yeonjun the next morning, but he knew well when to play oblivious. he asked you if the nightmare was too bad, telling you he went to get some water and woke you up immediately after returning and was so sleepy, so you let your guard down, believing he just didn’t notice any signs—if there were any. so when it happened next time, he just pretended he was asleep—he wanted to leave at all, but decided it wouldn’t look good if you woke up and saw his absence—you most probably would think you woke him up and he left. and when you hesitantly asked him the next morning how he slept, he shrugged and said he had dreamed of something weird like a few thousands of bees fighting godzilla, but nothing else.

yeonjun didn’t want to make you feel embarrassed, had no desire to even tease you about something you couldn’t control, but the way your were mewling his name so softly and quietly into your pillow or the fox plushie you took from your apartment first, was stroking his ego and made him hard sometimes just from the thought of it. so of course he started having more wet dreams too—but at least you weren’t a light sleeper like him. or maybe you were, and were doing the same thing he was doing… 

but that time yeonjun was sure you weren’t having one—your breathing was calm and you barely made any sounds, so you were probably just trying to find a more comfortable position. cute, he thought, caressing your back. but you were right—kind of, at least the way he saw your fidgeting—you both should move to the bed, as it was much more comfortable. and even though he perfectly knew that you’d be sleeping on different sides of the bed and he didn’t want to let you go, because your weight on top of him was comforting, he still shook your shoulder gently—your comfort was much more important.

“wake up, mouse,” yeonjun whispered, ruffling your hair a bit and making you nuzzle closer to him, refusing to wake up. “no-ope,” he chuckled, ticking your side, his heart warm at your clinginess, “wake up and let’s go to bed.”

you grumped into his skin. “comfy,” you murmured, completely refusing to cooperate. 

usually yeonjun would make you do what he wanted you to do, but his heart melted at your sleepy admission of being comfortable—something he doubted he’d get if you weren’t so sleepy—so he decided to do everything himself and carry you to the bed without making you move yourself. you still woke up a bit, but not enough to start seriously protesting and assuring him you could walk on your own. 

of course, yeonjun put you on your side and laid down himself the way you two always slept—with a gap between you. he didn’t expect you to crawl and cling to him, and you didn’t. but you still surprised him by hesitantly reaching out and laying one of your fingers on his, as if even hooking it around would be too much for you, too close. he was happy nevertheless to see that you wanted to touch him too, and he fell asleep content, his finger moving almost on its own to caress yours.  

since then, the line between you two started fading faster—even when you were finally able to return to your own apartment, some nights you spent at yeonjun’s place. it made sense to just stay there after another conversation in his living room that went past midnight—you had a lot of your stuff in his apartment anyway. and he stayed at yours too from time to time, so even when you were alone in your apartment—quiet and empty without him there—you still had signs of him wherever you looked. 

it was scaring you. the way your view on many things started changing scared you too. but you were afraid to ask yeonjun about where the two of you stood, and more than that, you were afraid of hearing his answer. ‘being something more’ scared you even worse than staying just friends—whenever you thought about it, your brain immediately pictured him with his soulmate when he found them, not caring about you or whatever you had anymore. 

it was hard to keep inside, and you couldn't go to yeonjun about it, so when these thoughts filled your mind to the brim, they spilled over to the only person you trusted almost as much as you trusted yeonjun—soobin.

“what would you do if you met your soulmate while dating someone else?” you blurted out one morning, standing next to the coffee machine in the tiny office kitchen, staring at it.

at first, soobin wanted to tease you, but the way you'd been occupying the coffee machine for a few minutes already without turning it on, just standing next to it with your cup inside, he decided it wasn't the time. “i don't know how exactly I'd reject my soulmate, but i would,” he shrugged. 

you pressed your lips together. “but they’re your soulmate. someone perfect for you.”

soobin shrugged again and chose coffee for you on the little screen before turning the coffee machine on. “and another one is my partner, someone i chose for me,” he said simply—he knew you weren’t judging him for choosing partner over soulmate, especially since you probably had the same view, but it seemed like you weren’t asking for yourself. “yeonjun?”

“huh?” you looked at soobin a bit lost at the sudden mention of his name, but, realizing what he was implying, you mumbled. “i don’t know…”

he didn’t want to bother you anymore about it, given how confused you were—he doubted he could help anyway except by giving you a little chocolate bar and a few kind words as a sign of support when you were back at your tables. you didn’t expect him, though, because the only one who could clear that confusion was yeonjun, and soobin already did enough—showed you that there were people who had that view on dating someone other than their soulmate.

you didn’t ask yeonjun about it that day. or the next day. or the day after. you were scared he’d get the reason behind the question wrongly—except deep inside, you knew the reason he might think about would be right, but you refused to admit it to yourself even, let alone to him. 

but yeonjun asked you that himself one day, in yet another one of your long conversation about soulmates, and before you could say anything, he answered the question himself—he did it often when the question was serious and he wanted to show you that he was ready to answer the question he asked, while you didn’t even have to. his answer was almost the same as soobin’s, and you hesitantly said you thought the same. 

unlike what you expected, the conversation went just as it had before, as if the question wasn’t asked at all. but you didn’t know yeonjun had made a note about that—he’d been making lots of mental notes like that recently. he noted the way you shied away when he tried to push, so he stopped, letting you control the pace with which your relationship was developing into… something. he was leading the way it developed, though, staying on high alert about whatever he did or said whenever the atmosphere shifted after conversations about soulmates or dating. it was tiring, so he loved it when you let yourself be free without thinking twice.

“you know,” yeonjun started one friday-almost-night, pausing the movie you were watching—it was horror and it seemed like he tried to avoid watching it at all, because he paused it three minutes in. “fleur de destin also has ‘colours of soulmates’ on the last page. have you translated it too?” he asked.

you nodded. “it was easy compared to the wild roses part,” you answered after swallowing a handful of popcorn—it was meant to be finished before the movie started properly, with the way yeonjun paused it every half a minute. “just a few epithets for each colour. look, we don’t have to watch it—”

“it’s fine,” yeonjun said firmly—you said you wanted to watch it despite being a scaredy-cat, and he was determined to ‘protect’ you from scary pictures and sounds. “just got a question out of nowhere,” he said and you nodded with a small teasing smile—of course. “so. as we both obviously say ‘fuck you, both of our soulmates’— why are you laughing?” he tried to sound serious, but his smile was even heard in his voice.

you shook your head, trying to contain your giggles. “i’m not sure when i said it, but i do feel that i agree with the take. sorry, continue.” 

yeonjun cleared his throat, and you tried your best not to laugh at how badly he tried to act serious. “so. what colour of relationship would you prefer to have?”

you didn't remember when you thought about it last time. colours of soulmates weren't exactly something you could check—mostly, it had just made sense to connect flowers to colours and use it for describing the main nature and vibe of the relationship between soulmates. you didn't choose it, you just naturally gravitated toward ‘one of the colours’ just like your soulmate did, and in the end, you made a perfect couple with the same wants and needs.

“i don't know… maybe i'm closer to pink?” you answered uncertainly—pink was… safe, but not boring. it was soft, loving, caring, silly at times, but still gentle and sweet. not too innocent, but not too emotional and passionate on the verge of fights either. perfect balance. “or maybe blue…” that one was new for you, heavily influenced by yeonjun and how deep your conversation with him went sometimes, how in tune you seemed to be with each other’s emotions. “i'm not sure…” you didn't want to continue thinking about it—you had already chosen the colours you'd describe your friendship with him. you didn't like the way your thoughts were going.

yeonjun chuckled—you were predictable in the most beautiful way. “nothing intense? no red and black?” he teased, already knowing the answer. you seemed like the epitome of pink, who needed blue sometimes. but he wasn’t exactly blue. he knew people who were, and he certainly wasn’t one—they weren’t as emotionally closed off as he was, and their bonds were built on deep, mutual connection. it didn’t come naturally to him. usually, he only revealed the surface, keeping his deepest fears locked away. he would love it, though—a faint blue gloss to his relationship. he would love to be able to open up, and he felt like pink friendship with you had exactly the right shade of blue shining on the surface. “boring baby,” he sing-songed.

you huffed, rolling your eyes and pushing his shoulder. “safe one. i want my relationship to be my safe haven,” you explained. “somewhere where i won’t be judged for anything, where i can truly relax and not wear any masks,” you got so wrapped up in protecting your ‘boring pink dream’, that you were far from noticing the way yeonjun was looking at you with the softest smile he just couldn’t keep inside. “i want to do silly things and not be afraid of getting laughed at and—” you stopped and looked at him. “what are you laughing at?!” you grabbed the nearby pillow aiming it at him.

yeonjun’s smile turned into laughter and he covered his head with his forearms as you swung the pillow at him. “i was smiling, dummy,” he tried to say through his laughter, as you kept on hitting him with the pillow wherever you could reach, making him back down until he was pressed between the backrest and armrest of the couch and you towered over him on your knees, cheeks and abs already sore from laughing. “okay-okay, give me it before you hurt yourself,” he laughed, trying to take the pillow away from your hands.

you only shook your head and stretched your hand up, holding the pillow as high as possible—yeonjun had no chance of taking it from you, height difference or not, since you were on your knees while he, as a sore loser, was sitting on his butt. he tried to lift himself up, but you placed your free hand on his shoulder, trying to keep him down, the leverage giving you an opportunity to hold the pillow even higher. 

your determination was admirable, but yeonjun knew just the way to make you lose composure for a second—and that would be more than enough. “enjoying being on top, darling?” he asked with a smirk, looking up at you, his face even foxier than usual, making your eyes widen and your knees back off for a split second—just enough time for him to wrap his fingers around your waist and pull you down on his lap carelessly, quickly snatching the pillow from your hands. “just like that,” he sing-songed, tossing the pillow somewhere else. 

yeonjun's hand still was on your waist, his thumb caressing your skin through the thin fabric of your t-shirt, making your breath hitch as you froze, heart thumping wildly in your chest—the two of you’d never been that close, and it was making you dizzy. you could feel his warm breath on your lips, carrying the scent of sweet mint and caramel popcorn long forgotten on the coffee table; only now did you notice your pinky kept accidentally brushing against skin of his shoulder, right next to the wide stripe of his tank top—you caressed it on purpose, barely aware of what you were doing. he was so warm…

you forced yourself to move your gaze away from his shoulder—you weren’t sure how a mere joint of bones could be so beautiful and captivating—and finally looked him in the eyes, swallowing thickly. of course, you knew they were dark—you didn’t need to have a phd in biology to know that—but you weren't sure they had always been that dark, like a fathomless pit in the ground that would swallow you whole if you weren’t careful enough. but you knew it only promised softness, warmth and endless sweetness—you’d gladly fall into it on your own.

yeonjun was captivated by the way you studied him, as if you were seeing him for the first time. it felt like he was witnessing the gears in your head turning, slowly piecing together a realization he had reached long ago. and the sight was truly breathtaking. he would let you study him all you wanted, however you wanted—with your eyes, hands, lips—if it meant you wouldn’t shy away from him when it was his turn to study you however he wanted. 

the realization finally settled in—you both could see it. you opened your mouth to say something, but your words were stuck in your throat and your brain was absolutely empty. yeonjun knew well enough that whenever your mind went blank, it often was quick to be filled with anxiety, so he did the only thing his brain—affected by your proximity too—came up with. he put his hand on the side of your neck gently, thumb on your cheek, as he pressed his lips softly to the corner of your lips—barely a touch, but it already made your brain short-circuit, heart going absolutely crazy in your chest. 

yeonjun felt his mind getting clouded too—he realized it, bright as a day when he felt your rapid pulse under his lips. he hadn't noticed when he moved his kisses to your neck—your sweet scent, the sounds you were making, the softness of your skin under his lips, everything was too intoxicating, exactly the way it was in his dreams and even better because it was real you—he had to force himself to stop. he had to clear your mind too. at least a bit—enough to give him a clear answer. 

“mouse,” yeonjun whispered, putting all of his strength into pulling away from your neck and laying his forehead on your shoulder. “[ yn ], darling. squeeze my right shoulder if you want me to stop or left one if you want me to continue,” he whispered, careful not to make unnecessary moves, not wanting to affect your choice or make you act on instinct like squeezing the shoulder he moved. he needed you to think, even if the only thing he wanted to do was to wrap his arms around you and press you into himself so hard that you could feel each other's heartbeats and barely breath, and to torture your neck with his mouth until it was sore and you begged him to stop. 

the words were a blur in your dazed mind—right, stop, shoulder, continue. stop… no, no stop… right shoulder—no, left shoulder, it was left. fingers of your left hand almost twitched and you forced them to freeze—wrong, it had to be your right hand. you squeezed fingers of your right hand hesitantly, before repeating the gesture a bit more certainly. 

you were embarrassed to ask for more, but it felt so, so good. yeonjun was always rough in your dreams, bringing you the sweetest pain you could imagine, and despite perfectly knowing it was just dreams, they still were affecting the way you saw him—you simply never expected him to be so gentle, and it was making you lose your mind even more, probably. the way he held your waist as if you were fragile, the way his kisses were feather-light, barely leaving any sign of his presence there—and you wished these marks were permanent—everything was making you dizzy again. 

yeonjun was scared of hurting you, afraid you might break if he wasn’t careful enough. he didn’t want to scare you off with how much he wanted to hurt you too—it sounded wrong even in his own head, no matter how much he tried to assure himself he meant it in a beautiful way full of pleasure. and he was ready to push each one of his dark and ugly desires deep inside and never let it come back if it meant he could keep holding you like that. he knew he was going absolutely insane, but at that moment he didn’t care—your sweetness was coating each one of his senses and he couldn't wish for anything else. 

you clenched the fabric of his tank top on his shoulders in your fingers, nails softly scratching his skin, and you moved your fingers away instinctively, leaving only the heels of your palms there—you were on the other side of that pain specter, it almost came naturally to you, but yeonjun moved his kisses up your neck slowly, whispering that it was fine, that you didn’t have to control yourself that bad with him. you nodded shakily and pressed your nails into your palms.

yeonjun moved you a bit closer up his thighs, chuckling breathily into the skin between your neck and shoulder. “don't hurt yourself, mouse,” he whispered, his breath tickling the sensitive skin as he reached out for your hand on his shoulder and took it in his, unclenching your fingers with his thumb. i want to be the one to do it, he continued in his head—he was sure he’d never let you know it and would never act on it, as he was gently holding your hand in his on your thigh. you were his little flower. his pink, gentle wild rose, and he couldn’t care less about your soulmate wandering around somewhere—they lost their chance the moment you hesitantly squeezed his left shoulder. 

the sounds you were making were becoming more and more shaky with every inch yeonjun’s lips moved down, your hand squeezing his. he tugged the collar of your t-shirt down, opening the top of the stem on your chest, almost groaning at the sight. yes, it was intimate—you came a long way to feel comfortable enough around him to wear something that showed even half an inch of it, and he felt blessed by your trust, but at the same time it was a mark. a mark of belonging, just like he had on his back, and he hated both. 

yeonjun pressed his lips to the lonely stem—oh, how he wanted to paint it with his bites and marks, to turn it into a mark of you belonging to him, not to some random who hurt you so much and made you feel like you had lost your soulmate, as if you were completely alone in that cruel world. but he couldn’t; not right now at least. maybe one day you would be kind enough to bless him by letting him do it, by allowing him to make the rose stem on your chest bloom with beautiful red flowers made by his lips and teeth. 

you froze when yeonjun’s lips touched the mark, though—all the pictures of everything that could go wrong because of falling for someone who wasn’t your soulmate flashing before your eyes like a slideshow with no happy ending. you could love someone—your brain refused to put his name there—as hard as your heart could and choose them even after meeting your soulmate, but it didn’t guarantee anything if they had a change of mind or heart when they met their one. the dizzying sweetness that was filling your heart just a moment ago was replaced with a sickening fear that was clawing on it, trying to leave the deepest marks it could.

“jun,” you choked out, weakly pushing him away by the shoulder where your hand still rested. you couldn’t do it—it was too painful, too terrifying.

your tiny, quiet call felt for yeonjun like a bucket of cold water had been poured all over him—the first second, it felt like you could read his mind and see all of his ugly thoughts, but the way your other hand was still holding his hand grounded him, chasing those thoughts away. he moved his head away from you and placed the hand that had been holding you waist on the couch next to your knee, fingers itching to caress it, but he held himself back. you didn’t look at him, your eyes glued to the hand you were still holding—you refused to let it go and he barely tried, if he was honest. 

“i’m scared,” you whispered before yeonjun could ask you anything or, worse, apologize. “of…” you opened your mouth to explain, but couldn't find words—of what? of him finally meeting someone destined for him, someone he'd been waiting for his whole life, who he’d gone through a terrible heartbreak and betrayal for? in no universe was it the right thing to think, let alone say out loud. you only shook your head in shame—for your behaviour, for your thoughts, for your feelings.

yeonjun was confused—what were you scared of?... him? his behaviour? getting so close to him? physically? emotionally?... he tried to find the answer in your eyes, but you still didn't look at him, and he wasn't sure what to do. he so often dealt with stuff by ‘manhandling’ everyone, that he had no idea what to do with you now, when he didn't know if it was right to touch you. he squeezed your hand that still was in his, though. “you don't have to be scared,” he whispered, trying not to make any unnecessary moves—you still were on his lap after all. “and thank you for stopping me.”

you looked at yeonjun puzzled. for… stopping him? he wasn't upset or angry or annoyed—he was thankful? this confusion pushed all the other thoughts away, as if it cleared the fog inside your head, making your brain start working to understand what he meant. you tried to find a hint of mockery in his eyes, tried to recall if you’d heard sarcasm in his voice, but there was nothing—he was sincere, absolutely sincere, looking at you with a soft smile. it felt like it was impossible to predict how else he'd surprise you next time, how he'd give you a glimpse of what a beautiful human being he actually was. 

when yeonjun asked you if you wanted to continue watching the movie or go home, you hesitantly admitted that you'd prefer the first option, but were anxious that the thing that had just happened between the two of you might ruin the night—and everything else, you added in your head—but he promised to keep the atmosphere light, and about ten minutes into the movie, the air around you became significantly less charged when he yelped and you whimpered at the way the demon appeared behind the character’s shoulder in the mirror, covering your faces with hands.

by the end of the movie you were hiding in yeonjun’s shoulder most of the time, not even lifting your head when nothing scary was happening, just turning it slightly to the screen—both in case of another jumpscare and because one of the main characters was on the verge of death. he never pushed your head away but teased you endlessly—while he wasn’t busy covering his face—for being so dramatic about a death that you knew perfectly well wouldn't happen, and later—for the way you basically fangirled over the character being saved by his wife. 

yeonjun couldn’t stop thinking about how cute you were, passionately trying to convince him that the couple of the main characters were completely pink and perfect with how much they cared for each other and how all-consuming yet sweet yet grown-up their love was. he wondered if that was what you wanted, what you dreamed of, trying to push the doubts away—would he be able to give you that? the one who felt red for his whole life, but dreamed of pink deep inside? could it be that your sweetness and gentleness of white would soften his red into the pink you both wanted? or would he only stain it? 

you stayed at yeonjun’s place that night, too scared to be in your empty apartment completely alone, even with a nightlight or just  a light turned on everywhere. and you realized you were right when you woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't fall asleep anymore, because whenever you closed your eyes, you saw all the ugly ghosts and demons you had seen for your whole life in games or movies, so you just sat on his bed leaning on the headboard and hugging your knees in the pitch-dark room. 

yeonjun stirred awake not so long after, slightly jolting at the shadowy shape sitting on the bed, before realizing it was just you, and leaned up on his elbows. “why are you not sleeping?” 

you sheepishly traced random patterns on your knee with your nail. “whenever i close my eyes i see the face of that ugly demon in nun clothes,” you mumbled, bringing your knees closer to your chest—you didn’t want to wake yeonjun up.

he hummed and sat up properly, reaching out for the remote control and turning the tv on. “why didn’t you wake me up?” he asked, trying to find something more or less neutral and stopping at some old episode of the ‘culinary class wars’. “wake me up next time, okay?” he lowered the volume to almost nothing and put the remote back, lying down. “want me to hold you?”

you hesitated before nodding and crawling to him, laying your head down on his chest. “you have to wake up early for classes,” you mumbled to answer one of his questions, subconsciously moving a bit closer to him—he felt like the epitome of safety, and you couldn’t care less about anything else when you needed it so badly. 

yeonjun hummed again, wrapping his arm around you and closing his eyes. it was only the second time you slept like that, and he was getting used to it a bit too fast—a few more times and his chest would feel too light and cold without you there, so he wanted to write it into his memory to never forget the way it felt. he was almost sure that in the morning you’d have to address the way he lost his mind the moment you were on his lap, and he didn’t know if it would end well. 

but you decided to address it earlier—you looked up at yeonjun and noticed the way his closed eyes still twitched a bit, the blue tv light making the room just bright enough to see it, and he opened them almost immediately anyway, feeling your movements on his chest. “about what happened before the movie…” you whispered, nails scratching the pads of your fingers, trying to lessen the nervousness. 

yeonjun interrupted you, though—he wasn’t sure he’d find enough bravery to say it so raw or say it at all if he had time to think about it. “i’m sorry if it made you feel uncomfortable,” he whispered, swallowing thickly. “i don’t think it was a mistake, but if you want to pretend it never happened—” he couldn’t find the words to continue—he simply didn’t know what was right. 

was he going to pretend it never happened too and just continue being friends like before? when it was obviously too late and would only bring him another heartbreak eventually, after he’d opened his heart for the first time in almost a decade? was he going to pretend your friendship never happened? pretend that you were no one to each other after everything you’d been through together? it was even worse, because it was basically impossible to do that—the bond you two had built with your own hands was too strong now. he couldn’t even dare to call letting you in a mistake in his own head, even if it was meant to bring him only heartbreak, no matter what he did next.

“i’m scared,” you whispered, your voice barely heard behind yeonjun’s thoughts, but it still caught his attention, and you felt him tense, waiting for you to continue. “scared of what it meant, of how it’d change things between us,” you paused, trying to find the courage to say the next words. “i’m afraid of getting hurt in the end,” you confessed quietly. 

wild roses had always been well-acquainted with pain—the steady presence woven into their existence. it had never been a stranger, never something to flinch from. half of them found pleasure in the rawness of it, while another half preferred to be the hand that delivered it—pain and wild roses walked side by side. but just as physical pain was a familiar companion, emotional pain was a relentless adversary, it lurked in the shadows, frightening even the ones who craved getting hurt. 

so yeonjun wasn’t surprised to hear it—he perfectly knew the way it felt, and it was probably even worse for you with how gentle and soft you were. he tightened his arm around you subconsciously, wanting to protect you. “i’ll do my best not to hurt you,” he whispered into your hair, “to protect you from any pain too. do you want to try?” 

did you want to? you were scared to answer it—one answer was a lie and the other one was… dangerous. so you decided to answer with the one that felt the safest. “i don’t know,” you whispered. 

yeonjun knew you did, and he knew you weren’t trying to deceive him with your words—you were just scared of getting your heart broken. he was too; it was always a risk when you dated someone who wasn’t your soulmate, but for him it was worth the risk—you were worth it. he caressed your cheek with his thumb. “it’s okay. we could just try.” 

you couldn’t push these thoughts away, though—what if he met his soulmate… but you knew yeonjun was waiting for your answer instead of getting the rest he so desperately needed between two tiring workdays. you clenched the fabric of his tank top and took a deep breath. “would you…” you swallowed—it sounded shaky and pathetic even to you, but you still continued. “if you meet your soulmate when we—” you didn’t dare to say the word yet, but he understood—he always did.

“no. no, i wouldn’t,” yeonjun said firmly. he knew it was ‘would you leave me for them’—you always chose pessimistic phrasings in questions like that. “i’ve spent years waiting for someone i don’t know, someone who doesn't know me,” he pressed his face into your hair, inhaling your scent. “i’m tired of that. i wouldn’t throw away something real for a stranger,” he hoped you’d look at him so you could see how sincere he was, but your gaze was glued to your fingers clenching his tank top. “i know you. and i want you. that’s my choice,” he finished, his voice soft. 

you felt your eyes tingle, a lump forming in your throat—you wanted to believe him so, so badly, was it fair to him to be such a coward? was it fair to yourself? didn’t you deserve happiness? even if it was short-lived, it was at least something. and if everything ended with him meeting his soulmate, it could mean that it was possible for you to meet yours too, one day. you bit your lip and took a deep breath. “okay…” you whispered. “okay, we could… try.”

yeonjun felt happiness bubble in his chest, as if flowers were blooming inside—tiny, pretty pink roses, gentle and delicate, with thorns too young and soft to truly hurt anyone. a stark contrast to the way huge, bloody red roses had pierced through his heart when a drunken seven minutes in heaven at some high school party brought him and his now-ex together. it wasn’t passion that was all-consuming that time, but quiet happiness that he didn’t want to share with the world yet because it was still too young—only with you. so he held you closer, murmuring that he felt so happy, as you finally relaxed, your body no longer tense, and closed his eyes, anticipating the next days. 

you fell asleep just a bit earlier—your head felt too light after such a weight was lifted off your shoulders, and you snuggled closer in an attempt to fill your mind with yeonjun so you wouldn’t overthink, and he once again knew what you needed, helping you with it—caressing your arm, murmuring something you couldn’t understand anymore, and bringing your head just a bit closer to his neck so you could feel his scent better. he was so good at overwhelming your senses, and you both knew it.

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[blackboxtheater]

voted for them again!

prompt this time is: cozy!

something simple, thanks!

I do believe the people have spoken, but on the off chance that you follow my blog and haven't voted for Mumpearl in the the Mumbo Jumbo ship bracket, you still can! We can show our presence as a small but mighty rarepair and go down with the ship as we sink beneath the waves lapping at Boatem's shores.

I will still take prompts until voting closes so if you wanted to submit, this might be your last chance 👀

But time for prompts!! Cozy prompts!!

So this could be read as a stand-alone season 10 established relationship tidbit, OR as the season 10 epilogue to House of String that I'm never going to write because I literally already have 21 chapters of content and that's just through season 9. If you've been suffering from all the pining in the recent updates, this is a bit of an antidote to that :)

But either way, the interior of Pearl's base, and in particular her double bed next to a wall of trap doors has HAUNTED me (/pos) since she ran around her base in hide and seek with Gem. Something about the vibe just gave me "sunlight streaming through shutters at sunrise" and now you gave me an excuse to write that!!!

Plus Pearl clearly designed a bedroom and actual living space in her base, while Mumbo just makes a giant storage system as a base and sometimes puts a bed places. So the idea that he still is making his base, but actually sleeps and lives at Pearl's is the premise for this setup.

🌙 🌙 🌙

The sound of the last shulker whirling shut echoes through Pearl's storage room.

There is truly nothing as satisfying as a neatly organized storage room with a set of perfectly prepared shulkers right in the middle, ready to be picked up on the way to a brand new build the next morning. Sure, Pearl likes the update this season where they can add text and images to the boxes. It's helpful and does make it easier to know at a glance what is in each box, but there is something so familiar and soothing about a classic, color-coded row of shulkers prepped for an exciting new build.

Now that she's stopped banging around her storage room opening and closing chests, there's a silence that settles over the space. It's a rare sound on Hermitcraft which is why she loves the peace and quiet that only comes in the dead of night.

She loves the chaos and mischief and joy that the other hermits bring to her life. She does. She loves them all more than she could ever describe. But she also has big plans for her builds each season that require lots of time and effort to not only design, but to construct and refine until they are exactly as perfect as she knows they can be. And it's hard to be productive when her communicator is constantly blowing up with Scar's death messages. Or when a wild Gem can appear out of the sky at any moment. Or when Keralis has some new ideas for the flower and dyes shop or when Ren is looking for an extra person to play Hungry Hermits with or when Grian breaks the mail system again or or or or or.

There is always a distraction looking for her during the daylight hours. It's so easy to have a full, busy, wonderful day where she makes zero progress on any of her projects. Which is why she keeps staying up so late season after season.

Sure she could try to fix her sleep schedule this year now that Mumbo is staying with her full time. He's always yawning by 9:30 and crawling into bed by 10. But she likes being able to get some focus time in when the rest of the hermits are fast asleep. Or at the very least deterred from dropping in unannounced by the ever present threat of mobs lurking in every shadow.

And Mumbo doesn't seem to mind that she drifts down to her study as he drifts up to bed.

Pearl does mind though that her dogs seem to have universally decided that sleeping in a comfy, warm bed is better than keeping her company late into the night. Sure the cats are still awake with her, watching her with their reflective eyes as Pearl makes her way up from the storage room to her and Mumbo's bedroom.  But it's not quite the same as previous seasons when she'd regularly been making design updates late at night with a dog curled up at her feet.

But when she open the door to their bedroom, she does get numerous sets of dark eyes turning to look up at her illuminated in the dull glow streaming in through the crack in the door. Mumbo, as always, is completely passed out, rolled on his side and sleeping right through the sound of her quietly slipping into their bedroom. Her valiant guard dogs, however, silently watch Pearl's nightly routine of she softly padding over to the closet to get changed and ready for bed. And, just like every night, once she is finally ready to climb into bed there is a series of soft thump as her babies jump down to clear her side of the bed and give her room to crawl under the covers.

There's one final round of shuffling and adjusting before the whole Pearl/Mumbo compound is settled for the night. There's the soft click of dog paws against the floor as her puppos find their places curled in corners and at the foot of the bed, the rustle of bedsheets as Pearl tucks herself in behind Mumbo, and finally the quite breath Mumbo lets out each night as Pearl curls around him.

When Pearl mentioned this little routine to him, Mumbo swore up and down that he slept right through her shuffling around and he had no idea when she finally ended up coming to bed each night.

While she initially assumed he was just being cute and polite for her sake, the longer they lived together, the more Pearl was inclined to believe him. He really didn't give any indication of being awake each night as she has moved around their bedroom opening drawers and shutting doors as she got ready for bed. But there is a soft noise that he make every night without fail as Pearl curls up again his back, tucking her face between his shoulder blades and into the soft fabric of his well-worn sleep shirt. Pearl almost likes the idea that he isn’t awake and aware that this happens better. It means that even asleep, there is some part of him that's waiting for her to come into bed. A part that doesn’t fully relax until he feels her warmth beside him. And once she's there, he can finally relax, letting out a soft sigh, barely audible over the rustle of leaves outside. She even thinks sometimes that she can feel the last bit of nervous tension easing out of his shoulders as she nuzzles into him, inhaling the smell of soap and fresh cotton.

It's become a familiar enough scent that even after to most chaotic days it helps calm Pearl's thoughts, helping her drift off to sleep under the warm covers to the sounds of Mumbo's even breathing beside her.

🔆 🔆 🔆

Now that Mumbo has had the pleasure of waking up with the sunrise, he's not sure he could ever go back.

There is no jarring alarm or unexpected buzzing from a communicator to jolt him awake. No sharp, sudden distinction between peaceful sleep and full consciousness. Instead, the sunlight filters through the copper trap doors that make up the walls of his and Pearl's bedroom each morning, slowly bringing him to awareness as the day begins.

The soft sound of the birds outside and the warm light against his eyelids is the first thing he's aware of most mornings now. Which wakes him up just enough so he can shifts around and reach out for the warm body even his subconscious knows is sleeping beside him. But the first tendrils of consciousness aren't satisfied with just knowing Pearl is there in the bed next to him, they want her closer and go seeking her out, gathering her sluggishly into his arms and pulling her into him.

That's one of the few things that can still jolt Mumbo awake now; reaching out and his hazy, half asleep brain not finding Pearl within reach. The first time he reached out to find nothing but a cold pillow and the furry back of an equally confused dog blinking back at him, he had startled awake, fumbling for his communicator with the terrible feeling that something bad had to have happened. If Pearl wasn't in bed, Pearl must be missing and in danger, his barely awake brain had concluded. His worried messages, which his brain had not been conscious enough to remember to whisper rather than put in the general Hermitcraft chat, had been greeted by a sheepish Pearl admitting she may have been so focused on her project that she hadn't notice the birds had started singing to tell her she had worked all the way through to sunrise. The messages had also been fantastic fodder for all of his friends to tease him for the rest of the week, even if most of it was good natured teasing about how cute him and Pearl were together.

But this morning isn't one of those unfortunate rare days he wakes up alone, so when Mumbo rolls over his arm curls around Pearl to pull her into his chest. Sometimes he catches a half mumbled 'good morning' or even a sleepy kiss if she rolls into his chest, but this morning she just wraps her arms around his and snuggles back against him with just the barest bit of fleeting consciousness that he knows will be gone again by the time he's fully awake.

But he's in no rush. These warm, cozy moments curled up together each morning are some of his favorite each day and he's not eager to end them too soon. So he spends a few more minutes letting his consciousness slowly come on line, becoming more aware of the world around him as his brain cells wake up one by one.

First, he starts to hear the leaves rustling outside and can feel their movement shift the pattern of sunlight against his eyes lids. He starts to notice the smell Pearl's shampoo and can feel her leg brush against his as she shifts again in his arms. And finally, he hears the click of nails on the floor as their dogs start to grow impatient in their wait for breakfast.

Which is his cue that his precious morning moments are drawing to a close and it's almost time to get up for the day.

By the time he finally opens his eyes, there is already 3 pairs of black dog eyes staring at him over the edge of the bed. The dogs are smart enough to know that Mumbo looking at them means breakfast is soon, and they can stop giving him pleading looks in bed and can go sit quietly by the bedroom door. But they are also smart enough to know that it will be another few minutes before he gets up, taking a few more moments to appreciate the warm, quite mornings now that he's actually awake enough to take everything in.

But Mumbo knows the dogs won’t wait forever, and there's a long list of things he wants to get started on before the rest of the server wakes up and starts causing chaos. So Mumbo presses a kiss to Pearl's temple and slowly detangles himself from her and the warm covers. There's a little grumble she always lets out as he does, but he attributes that more to the sudden chill as he slips out from under the covers rather than her being conscious of him leaving. He knows that by the time he comes back upstairs to change out of his pajamas, she'll be sound asleep, sprawled cross the bed and taking up more space than a single human should be capable of.

But right now, the most pressing concern is the flock of dogs patiently waiting at the bedroom door for him to get breakfast started, and the growing feeling that hot cup of tea sounds like a great idea right about now.

[softdreamlesssleep]

God, "I missed you" sex is the best

[rowavolo]

New icon :3c !! Wahooooo

[nochepsicodelica]

You wake up from a nap that went on a little too long, only to see that Toji still isn't next to you in bed. It's dark already, and when you check the time on your phone, the screen reads 10:14. You see light underneath the bedroom door and get up, dragging the blanket along with you. When you open the door, there Toji is, sitting on the couch, watching TV with his hand in a bag of chips. You peek at him from the hallway entryway and watch as he puts another chip in his mouth.

"Hi," Toji says, not the slightest bit oblivious to your eyes on him. His gaze shifts to you and the big, puffy blanket you have draped around you. "How'd you sleep?"

You don't answer, but instead start making your way towards him, the blanket tailing behind you as it drags on the floor. Five more steps and you're right in front of him. Without a second thought, you're climbing onto his lap and making yourself comfortable. Your big blanket covers him, as well as his bag of chips, now, too.

"Still tired, mama?" Toji asks, when you bury your face in the crook of his neck. You grunt, affirmatively, in response, tightening your arms around him. "That's how you answer, now?" He asks, chuckling when you grunt, again. "I'm rubbing off on you. You sound like a bear."

"Why didn't you come sleep with me?" You ask, your voice quiet from being underused.

"I went into the room to check on you and you were knocked out. Even got some cute pictures of you drooling, and you still didn't wake up."

You whine, annoyed at this revelation. "Not cute at all. It's like you don't even love me," you mumble, turning your face away from him, your cheek now positioned on his shoulder.

"Love you enough to keep an album full of these pictures."

"What? Toji." You briefly turn your attention back to him.

"There's eighty in there. Well, eighty-three, with the ones I got today."

You sigh, dramatically, and rest your cheek on his shoulder, again. "I have nothing more to say to you. Goodnight."

You can hear the smirk on Toji's face when he says, "'Night."

In the short amount of time that you slept on Toji, he was witness to yet another one of your dreams. He's been around for plenty of them. Some were nightmares, others just random dreams that made you jolt awake with a jump scare. He's even been around for the good ones that cause breathy renditions of his name to spill from your lips. This one was just weird.

Toji felt you stirring and watched as you nuzzled into his shoulder. He listened in on your nonsensical thoughts and grinned, amusedly, at the randomness. You sounded worried as you mumbled things about your eyes and how you wanted to keep them, and then something else about changing your mind and not being ready. He had no time to wonder what you weren't ready for, because you woke up and you looked scared.

You sit up on Toji's lap and blink a few times as you look around. "Toji, do my... my eyes?" You question, not finding offense in the way Toji looks like he's trying not to laugh. You're still very much concerned about your eyes.

"What about your eyes, ma?" He asks, his gaze darting after yours as you keep looking around.

"Do my eyes still work?" You ask, still panicking on the inside.

"I don't know. Do they?" he says, only further adding on to your fear. There's a small crease between your eyebrows, making you look conflicted. Your expression goes sad when you look away from Toji.

"Ma, wake up," Toji says, pinching your cheek a few times, while wearing a teasing grin on his face. "Look, if you're actually scared, we can check." You really need that confirmation, so you give Toji your full attention. "What's this?" He asks, tapping the scar that strikes his lips.

"Your handsome, sexy, all you can eat, full course meal of a scar," you mumble.

Toji deadpans and tilts his head, furthering his unamused expression. "Your eyes are fine."

"Test me, again. Pleaaaase?" You beg, giving him a soft smile and puppy eyes.

He sighs and gives in, no fight put up against you, whatsoever. "What color are my eyes?"

You hum as you lean in to examine the subject more closely before coming to your conclusion. "The most handsome bobansome, beautiful, crispy green apple, shade of green."

Toji scoffs and shakes his head in disbelief. "See? Your eyes are fine. On that note, you're banned from sleeping on me."

You gasp, dramatically, as if he offended you. "Aren't you the one always manhandling me so that i'm sleeping on top of you? And during our afternoon naps, you put my leg over your hip. And when I try to get up, you--"

"Okay, you're not banned. Jeez." You outsmarted him and it shows through the way he subtly clenches his jaw. "If you like sleeping on me that much, just say so."

You narrow your eyes at him, before pushing off of his chest in an attempt to get off of him.

"Whatcha doing?" He asks, holding your hips down so that you can't move.

"Going back to the room," you say, trying to peel his hands off of you, to no avail. "I would like to sleep on our bed, now, Toji."

"Then, tell me that and I'll take you. What are you doing pawing at my hands, trying to get them off of you?" He takes one look at the involuntary lift of your lips and already knows what's going on. "Oh..." he chuckles. "You a grumpy little bear, now?"

"Don't talk to me," you grumble, huffing childishly and turning your attention away from him.

"Aren't you the one always calling, saying you just wanted to hear my voice while i'm working? And you get goosebumps all over when I talk directly into your ear. And when I don't--"

"Stooop," you whine, leaning forward and burying your face in the crook of his neck, again. Your arms wrap around his neck and your thighs squeeze his waist. "You're not fair," you mumble, into his warm skin.

"Yeah, i'm so cruel to you, huh, baby?" He says, pressing a kiss to your cheek, a soft smile lingering on his lips when you hum out a little "mhm" in response. He moves his bag of chips aside and turns off the TV, before wrapping the blanket around you and tucking the excess away, so that he doesn't trip over it as he walks. With ease, he stands up from the couch and starts towards the bedroom, with his lump of a blanket clinging to him.

[slowdivinqs]

Easy

Joel Miller x f! reader | 18+ MDNI

summary: waking joel up in the best way possible.

warnings: implied age gap. no use of y/n , no outbreak AU, p w/o plot, consensual somnophilia, unprotected P in V, creampies, dirty talk, established relationship, daddy kink, soft dom! Joel, a few spanks, soft cock worship, pussy pronouns, can imagine game Joel or Pedro. Reader is described as having hair and dimples in her back, as well as Joel being able to manhandle her.

W/C: 3k of non-proof read smut.

A/N: I’m so blown away by all the love on Golden, love you all. Thank you for 150 followers ♡ happy holidays!

masterlist

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The duvet needs to be chucked outside.

You throw the blanket off of you with a quiet huff, your arms flopping forward onto the mattress once the duvet has flown nothing short of five centimeters off of you.

Joel Miller is a furnace, one who is insistent on holding you hostage - or cuddling, as he likes to call it - the whole night.

You may act like it’s the bane of your existence, shooting him glares in the middle of the night when your face feels like it’s on fire and you want to jump into a bucket of ice, but you still love it.

You turn over and snuggle into your man’s chest, deciding to forgo the annoyance at being warm, feeling the coarse hair tickle your cheek before you hear his deep, rumbling groan of sleepy approval. His arm clumsily wrapping around you and pulling you forward against him as he keeps sleeping soundly above you.

You can’t help but think of a big bear, deep in hibernation. It makes you smile to yourself before you’re falling asleep in Joel’s arms.

The sun decides to target your eyes the next time, and you glance over to see it’s now 10 am. Joel is still fast asleep above you, the arm that’s not cheekily resting on your ass is behind his head, making those biceps of his look even more delicious. You want to bite them, but your man needs his sleep. It’s his only day off after all.

You blink lazily, not really one for laying in bed once you’re awake, so you admire Joel sleeping next to you. That scruffy beard of his, unfairly long lashes, his full bottom lip, the trail of hair on his stomach that leads bellow the band of his boxers.

Your attention has been captured.

You lean your cheek against his chest - still nuzzling - as you stare at his underwear, eyeing the covered bulge of him that drives you feral every time.

You think back to last week, the day you had a very important meeting. The way he woke you up with his head between your legs, his hot mouth wrapped around your clit.

It’s only logical to return the favor, right?

Joel mumbles a sleepy protest as you escape from his arms, subconsciously grabbing your pillow and bringing it to his face, wrapping those big arms of his around it. Inhaling the scent of your shampoo and body cream and letting out a hum of approval as he promptly falls back asleep.

It makes you smile, momentarily losing focus as you slowly pull off his boxers.

His soft cock is a sight to behold. Ironically more enticing to you than when he’s burning bright red and dripping for you.

He was never embarrassed about it like your previous partners were. Whenever Joel got out the shower, with a towel wrapped around his waste, you could see the outline of him underneath, sometimes the towel would even slip, giving you a view of his tip.

You drool just thinking about it.

You shimmy his boxers down further, slowly lifting his package so his heavy, hairy balls sit above the fabric. Running a finger along his soft skin, humming at the sight of his tip leaking a small trail of sticky precum, twitching softly in your grip. You spend a few minutes just admiring him.

Stretched out on the bed like one of those Roman statues, his muscles on display under his hairy arms, tummy and chest. His thighs bent slightly, soft cock resting perfectly. His face, oh he’s so handsome. You love him, more than anything.

His hair has gotten fluffier, you suspect he’s been using your shampoo.

You lick a line up his cock, gathering that delicious pre on your tongue as he shifts in his sleep with a soft sigh. You still, waiting until he settles back into the cushions, you slowly take him into your mouth then, sucking down down down until he’s fully resting in your mouth, slowly twitching to hardness as your mouth warms him.

You stay like that for a few minutes, gently sucking on the warm weight of him until he’s dripping his precum down your throat, grunting in his sleep as his legs twitch up slightly - stomach clenching and relaxing again as his head turns to the side, a moan bubbling up in his throat.

You pull off as slow as you can, savoring the feel and taste of him against your tongue. The smooth, warm skin of the underside of his cock sliding out your throat. Moving your tongue so as to not graze the underside of his sticky tip - he’ll definitely wake up if you do that.

You let his cock fall gently from your lips, nuzzling your head lower, until you’re sucking one of his heavy balls into your mouth.

You feel a hand in your hair a moment later.

“Atta girl, keep doin’ that.” He groans with that sleepy, deep morning voice you love so much, his hips shifting up to guide more of him into your mouth. He keeps you pressed closer against him, inhaling that musk that's uniquely Joel. He spreads his hair-covered legs wider, stretching his back with the groan he always does as he lets you suck on his sac until he’s pulling you off him with a grunt and instead flipping you down on the sheets, climbing on top of you until his wet cock is nudging at your clit.

“You drive me crazy, Y’know that, angel?” He murmurs, his teeth nipping at your earlobe as he spreads your legs, humming in approval when he sees your wet pussy.

“You weren’t supposed to wake up.” You huff, your hands automatically going to his broad shoulders as he kisses your neck like he can’t stand to not kiss you as soon as he wakes up, you know he can’t : every morning you’re littered with kisses until you eventually open your eyes. It’s the best way to wake up you can think of, makes you feel warm and fuzzy and full of giggles. After, he usually spends ten minutes kissing whatever part of you he can until you either brush him off and he follows you into the shower, or you don’t even make it that far.

“Can’t stay sleepin’ when a woman like you ‘s between my legs.” He murmurs, his big palm groping your breast as he licks the sensitive space above your collar.

“Mmm come here, I miss you.” You whisper to him in your own sleepy voice you know he loves just as much as you love his, kissing his lips softly as he slides his hands under your shoulder blades, holding you up.

“I’m right here.” He says with a gentle smile, but you can see behind that softness he’s desperate from your teasing, that he wants to be inside you even more than you want to feel his cock stretch you, which seems impossible.

“I still miss you, I need you.” You whisper, and he brushes your hair back off your forehead with that big palm of his, placing a soft kiss on the skin he’s revealed before he’s pressing his drooling tip against your weeping entrance.

“Come here, my baby.” He whispers, lifting your hips so his tip can push past your entrance, making room for itself inside your wet walls until the rest of him joins in a hot, slow roll, stretching you open so deliciously you have no choice but to let your eyes roll back as you arch against him, peaked nipples almost brushing against his own strong chest. The weight of him inside you is warm and heavy, leaving your clit throbbing as you clench around him.

Your mouth pours out whimpers of his name, holding onto him tightly as he pushes forward until the coarse hairs at the base of him meet your twitching clit, and he’s kissing you softly while his hand cups the bowl of your skull - the other your lower back, his thumb and pointer finger finding your dimples.

“I love you.” He whispers, gazing at your face and admiring you even when your eyes are closed and your mouth hangs a bit open. He’s fighting to keep his own eyes open, to not let them flutter shut as yours have - he needs to see that face of yours he loves so much. Needs to watch the effect of him inside you.

“I love you.” You whimper, and you smile to yourself before your thumb brushes over his nipple cheekily, wanting him to react in the way you know he will.

He lets out an irritated noise that’s the closest to a growl you’ve ever heard from him, and your mission has been accomplished . “Naughty girl, you’re playin’ with fire.” Watching your expression he seems to be looking for what you want. He gives a jerk of his hips, and hums as your eyes flutter.

“Why don’t you teach me a lesson ‘bout being naughty, then?” You say softly to him, biting your bottom lip in a way you know will drive him wild. Your hypothesis is proven when he flips you onto your stomach, raising your ass in the air for his viewing pleasure. You whine when his cock slips out of you, leaving you empty and dripping.

“Yeah? You want me t’be rough with you baby? Bruise those walls n’ this sweet ass if yours?” He emphasizes his words with a chomp to your ass cheek and a slap. Joel Miller loves ass and tits, but you know his neurons activate whenever he sees your backside jiggle. There’s a strict rule about what pants you can wear when he needs to focus, for his own sanity. He’s missed too many deadlines at work due to him being unable to resist you walking past his office. He knows the rule is futile as it became more of a prompt to do the exact opposite of what he asked for.

You both know he doesn’t mind.

“Yes, daddy.” You whimper, your legs kicking back and forth slightly as he spanks your ass again, spreading your cheeks to watch your puckered hole flex and pussy drip down on your clit. He presses a kiss over his bitemark before shimmying his hips up, his large hands finding place on your hips, thumbs digging into your dimples like grips. He spends a second admiring the sight of his cock between your cheeks, no matter how many times he’s seen it.

“That’s my pretty girl.” He coos, his heavy hand holding his cock as he moves it up and down teasingly through your slit, his tip catching on your entrance before he’s pushing into you again. The angle makes you gasp, his cock sliding so deliciously along your front wall, to that spot that makes you dumb, that you can’t help the way you cry for him.

It’s all ‘daddy, daddy, daddy.’ as he starts moving his hips, mixed in with the louder slaps of his hips meeting your ass - noticeably with his increased effort.

“Oh, baby, this pussy is so sweet.” He groans. You can’t see it, but his head falls back, his hands grip your hips harder. You can’t even register what he just said, your mind is nowhere. You can’t think about anything except the pounding of his cock into you - the hot drag of him as he slides through your wetness like you were made just for him, just for his fat cock. “Squeezin’ me so tight, gorgeous girl.”

He smacks your ass again, three times in a row, inhaling sharply through his teeth when you clench around him, feet kicking up from their position against the mattress and into the soft flesh of his own backside. He grunts out a small laugh before he’s spreading your previously closed legs with his thighs, driving back into you when he’s made space for himself.

“How m’I supposed to stay mad at you when this creamy cunt’s cryin’ for her daddy?” He whispers as he leans over you, his chest pressed to your back as his arms wrap around your front, holding the opposite breast in each hand. He’s right, your pussy is creamy, proven by the white ring around his cock you can’t see, and it’s certainly crying for him - it sobs, mourns, yearns, weeps for him. His fist curls around your hair before he’s tugging as gently as he can to make your head tilt back, holding you like that.

“Oh, daddy-“ you hiccup, your voice shaking with his thrusts, every crack of his hips makes your words and moans break. It’s too much, and it’s not enough. You need him like this always, buried inside and holding you in a way that fixes you and breaks you apart all over again.

“I love you- she loves you.” You cry just as your pussy clenches around him again, you don’t care that the sounds of his thrusts are becoming increasingly lewd with the wetness seeping from you. You know he loves it like this:

Warm, messy and wet wet wet.

“I know baby, I know- she’s makin’ such a mess of daddy’s cock, should see the way your slick’s stickin’ between us- fuck.” He growls the last part, no doubt watching the webs of your wetness stretch whenever his crotch pulls away from your ass, judging by the way he’s twitching inside of you - veins thrumming.

You’d probably appreciate the thought a lot more if you could actually think it.

Joel grunts again, and soon you’re being rolled ontop of his chest after he moved himself similarly, his back pressed to the sheets as yours feels the tickle of his chest hair and happy trail. He plants his feet on the mattress, and you bite your bottom lip with a smile before you know it’s going to fall away with a silent scream of a moan as he starts bucking up relentlessly into you.

Your cries are hardly heard over the sound of his heavy balls smacking wetly against you. His hands have grabbed onto the underside of your thighs, holding them against your body as he thrusts with an amount of energy that should be impossible for a man in his fifties that just woke up.

His hands slide from your thighs, over your stomach to your breasts - his gasps, moans and grunts right next to your ear, sending goosebumps down your neck that feel like electricity. Your whole body is tingling. Not even his delicious sounds are enough to distract you from the slick, sloppy thrusts of him inside you, his tip seeming to target just the right spot again and again until your eyes scrunch closed and your brows furrow.

You can feel his smile against you when you suddenly go quiet, the only sounds leaving your mouth being gasps for air.

Your fingers blindly reach back and thread through his hair, just as he parts with one of your breasts to rub your clit with the rough pads of his fingers in little circles - it makes you arch away from him in a manner that he wishes he caught on video, just to save the moment forever. He flips you around once more to pulll himself out to the top, pressing you into the mattress as he slams back down into you. You’re both jerking forward with every thrust, his hand releasing your bouncing tit to wrap around your neck, squeezing gently to make you float up to that space only he can take you. The sloppy ache of him ramming into you further takes your breath away

“That’s my girl -mmph,oh fuck, cum f’your old man, cum for daddy-“ his growl breaks off into a breathy moan that has your toes curling, your cunt clenching around the thick, warm length of him.

What choice do you have but to listen?

Your orgasm hits you like a train, fire lighting through your body and shooting down your spine. Your hips jerk, pussy fluttering around him so deliciously he rewards you with one of his lewdest moans yet. Just when you think you’ll fall into a blissful afterglow, he speeds up.

“God fuckin’ damn, baby.” The words are punched out of him, broken and rough - just like his thrusts. “Good girl, ‘m goin’ t’flood this perfect pussy, then I’ll fuckin’ eat me outta you jus’ to pump you full again.”

It’s the best thing you’ve ever heard in your life, your head rolls back in bliss at the mere thought, not even mentioning the feeling of his sticky balls slapping against you, so plump and full you know he’ll be able to make good on his promise to keep your cunt stuffed until the sun dips down once more.

You can’t even cry his name when you feel his cock twitch upwards, spurting his release deep inside you, filling you with his warmth in a way that makes you feel blissfully cozy, like you’re safe and snug - ready to settle under the blankets with your scented candles burning in the room while Joel occupies himself by cleaning your cream-pied pussy with his tongue.

He kisses down the back of your neck as he gently pulls himself out, turning you on your side so he can kiss your cheeks.

“You okay, baby?” He whispers, continuing to kiss over your face as you keep your eyes closed.

“Yes.” you sigh, finally in that little blissful afterglow. He hums in acknowledgment before he kisses your lips softly, his hands pressing between your shoulder blades from where they’re wrapped around you.

“‘M gonna make us coffee, then I’m eatin’ that pussy ‘till I can’t no more.” He ends his filthy statement with a sweet kiss on your forehead, and you smile at him from the bed as he gets up, stretching your back.

“I love you.” You hum with a sweet sigh as your back pops. He’s currently picking up some laundry on the floor, bare as the day he was born.

“I love you, honey bee.” He says softly.

You admire his muscled back, shoulders and ass as he leaves the room, snuggling into the warmth of the sheets - no longer overbearingly hot - until Joel comes back to keep you warm instead.

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thank you so much for reading, please reblog and comment if you enjoyed ♡

[sarahsangelicdoll]

thinking about Rafe and somno (x/twitter p link !! don’t open in public)

cw; consensual somnophilia, dubcon, s1 Rafe, hints at ‘good girl’ reader, not exactly like the video but that’s ok 😅, soft!Rafe, wasn’t intended but he’s highkey soft in this 😅, unprotected p n v(always use protection!!) but Rafe pulls out.

a/n: wasn’t intending on making this so lovely dovey and soft but it is and tbh i’m not complaining 😭 i got this vid from @rafesbowbunny awhile ago, ty for blessing my eyes with this p link 💞

Rafe snuck in through your window, having previously been waiting for about ten minutes in his truck for you. His messages going through and on read but no reply from you. Why didn’t he walk through the door like a normal person? Well because your parents were curled up on the couch next to each other watching whatever old, rich, obnoxiously fake, stuck up rich people watched. Probably similar to the bullshit shows his parents watched.

He grunted as his feet landed on the floor and he finally hopped himself into your room. making a mental note to find an easier way up to your window. Just as he was about to speak and ask you why the fuck you weren’t responding to him he saw you on your bed, still in your clothes from earlier that day, phone in hand and sleeping away. He smirked slightly as he took in your sleeping figure, looking all pretty. He strolled over to your bed and took your charging phone out of your hand on onto the bedside table, about to shake you awake before he recalled something.

That something being a post-sex conversation he had with you about a month ago. How you went on about how hot it would be if you woke up to him using you and that your body was ‘free to use’ even if you were sleeping. Perhaps it turned you on too much- even expressing being comfortable with the usage of roofie pills(Which Rafe respectfully stated that he’ll never do nor is comfortable with). But he’d be lying if he said the thought of waking you up with his cock when you least expect it didn’t get him worked up. But lying he did, hence why he’s waited so long to surprise you, wanting you to think he wasn’t into it.

Rafe bit his lip as his eyes trailed down your figure. He knew fucking you awake would be risky to do with your parents down stairs- but that just made the situation even hotter, and it’s Rafe- why would he care?

So within just a couple seconds his clothes were discarded and he was climbing onto your bed. His movements careful as to not wake you. He rested on his knees as his hands roamed up and down your curves, stopping to squeeze the flesh of your hip. He sucked in a shaky and lustful deep breath as he hooked his finger under the waistband of your shirts and pulled them down along with your panties. Shifting your legs slightly to string the fabric off of your body and then throwing them off somewhere on the ground. Rafe bit his lip as he eyed your glistening, pretty folds, running a finger through them while his other hand gently placed itself back onto your ass and squeezed.

He shifted position again once your shorts and panties were off. Resting on his side. He reached over your body to lift your legs up further into your body in an almost sitting like position. Rafe let out a quiet groan as fisted his cock in his hand, looking down at your bare and vulnerable pussy.

Lifting his hand up to his mouth, Rafe spit into it and brought his hand back down to his cock and wrapped his hand around the base to spread the spit as a type of lube, his cock twitching at the pleasureful sensation. Rafe took his time as he shifted in his spot to easily run his cock up and down through your pussy folds, tapping the head of his cock against your clit. A smirk made its way onto Rafes face as he felt your body twitch at the sensation.

He teased himself as he circled the tip of his cock around your hole before sinking himself in, quickly biting his lip to stifle a loud moan from escaping his mouth as the warmth and tightness of your pussy enveloped his cock. Rafes mouth fell open in a quiet moan once he fully sheaved himself into your tight cunt. He had to wait a bit both for you and him: Him to get a grip on reality, already feeling like he’s in heaven and for your sleeping body to get used to it.

Once Rafe finally starts moving he has to bite his lip to prevents moans from spilling out of his lips. He couldn’t help himself from glancing up towards the door, heightening the pleasure and even a hint of fear at the thought of your parents waking up to see their perfect, innocent and precious daughter getting used in their sleep. His thrusts stayed more on the gentle and slow side but steady pace, planting his larger hand on the flesh of your ass and squeezing lightly.

He couldn’t help but admire your sleeping position, hair messy and thrown around your pillows. Breathing steady and gentle. Dreaming about god knows what.

Rafes breathing got more breathy and quick as he felt you shift slightly and pussy clench around his cock. But it wasn’t enough, he needed to be deeper and in your plushy walls. So he shifted his position once again, hovering his body over yours as he kept himself up by his fists, planted on either side of you. His body was practically caging yours as he breathed in your scent. The new position letting Rafe fuck you both easier and deeper. Your walls felt so good around him and the slower pace felt like a tease due to the lack of your moans, noises n reactions to help him get off, so he couldn’t help but speed up his pace.

And that’s when you woke up, pussy clenching around him as you felt yourself regain consciousness from your nap, dazed and confused before you immediately felt something fucking itself into you and someone else’s body heat along your side. In your confused state you didn’t think properly and simply felt panicked when you looked and saw someone else’s body over you.

Rafe was too lost in the pleasure to pay attention to you waking up, missing the way your heartbeat sped up along with your breathing. He then froze slightly as he felt your hair shift against his face, lifting his head up to see the panic quickly settling onto your features. He stopped his thrusts and quickly darted his hand up to your mouth, preventing any noises before they even came.

“Hey- hey, just me babe.” He whispered, though his tone was slightly panicked itself, his own heartbeat speeding up.

Your eyes darted up to his as you heard his words, immediately feeling a wave of both relief and arousal come over you. Rafe grinned as he felt your breathing and heartbeat slow down and your eyes become wide with lust instead of fear, letting out a breath he didn’t know he was holding in. His hand moved from your face down to your waist and squeezed lightly, grin still plastered on his face as he lowered his head down to your neck, breathing in your scent before speaking teasingly through kisses. “Good nap?”

You let out a yawn, followed by a moan as his thrusts picked up again and he started placing soft kisses to your neck. “Yeah… even better was when i woke up.” You teased back, grinning slightly as your hands made way to his hair.

Rafe chuckled as he brought his head back up from your neck, typical cocky grin spread on his face. “Imagine how your parents would feel if they walked into me fucking their perfect daughter? And finding out she asked for it previously.” He continued to tease, leaning back up to put enough space between his and your bodies to allow him to push your body down onto your back instead of your side, moving your leg over as well before he enveloped your body into his again. Rafe’s elbows resting on either side of your body.

Leaning down, Rafe captured your lips into a kiss before you could come out with some smart comeback. His hips rocking back into yours as his hands explored your curves. The usually agonizingly slow position feeling very pleasurable in this moment.

You two simply enjoyed each other’s company. Rafe moving his head back down into your neck to mark what’s his and hide the sounds of his own grunts and heavy breathing. You wrapped your legs around his hips as you let out soft but pleasure filled moans. Every sound you make sounding like absolute heaven.

“So pretty..” Rafe murmured into your neck as he glanced up at you, cheeks flushed as he bit his lip before speaking again. “Especially for just waking up.”

Your face flushed even more at his words as you giggled, biting your lip slightly as you looked down at him. “And you’re handsome.” You complimented cheekily, playing with strands of his hair. Rafe let out a shaky breath mixed with a moan at your words. Biting your neck as his pace slowly became less steady and more quick, signalling that he was about to cum.

Rafes hand found way down to your clit as he started rubbing quick circles on the bundle of nerves. Your own moans raising in frequency and pitch as you felt the sudden, overwhelming sensation on your clit, unmatching to his thrusts. It was such a perfect combination that made you feel like you were about to cum and go up to heaven in seconds.

You grabbed a fistful of Rafes hair as you felt that knot in your stomach slowly come closer and closer to snapping, letting Rafe know in a high pitched, attempting to be quiet breath. “Oh fuck.. ‘mma cum imma cum-“ You chanted, legs wrapping tighter around his hips as you squealed at Rafes fingers increasing their rushed pace on your clit.

“Yeah? me too baby, c’mon.” He said breathlessly, cock twitching inside you at your words. Placing one last sloppy, open mouthed kiss to your neck before letting out a loud moan, quickly pulling out as his cum decorated your stomach and pyjama shirt in long, white, sticky strings of cum. Your own arousal escaping you in clear liquid, absolutely soaking both your sheets and Rafes lower half.

The two of yours loud breaths were the only sound that filled the room as you both came down from your highs. Needless to say; that felt fucking amazing. Perhaps it was all the mix of taboo things; fucking upstairs while your parents watched tv and Rafe fucking you while you were asleep.

Rafe let out a breathy chuckle as he placed a kiss against your cheek and pulled away. Looking down at the absolute mess you made. He grinned as he glanced down at you; “Squirted from this?” He asked, teasing you as if that wasn’t one of the most pleasurable orgasms he’s had.

You grinned back up at him as squeezed your legs together playfully to cover yourself. Nodding at his words, completely tired, blissed and fucked out. “Yeah, was so hot to wake up to that.” You said with an un-matching innocent sounding giggle. Stretching your arms over your head as you yawned.

“Yeah? that a sign i should sneak in and fuck you while you’re sleeping with your parents downstairs more often?” Rafe teased, Shifting to throw one leg off the bed and reach for a random article of clothing to dry the two of yous up.

“Yes.” You replied simply but tiredly, watching as he grabbed the piece of clothing, yawning yet again as sleep again threatened to take over your body.

Rafe couldn’t help but smile genuinely as he looked back at you and saw your sleepy expression. Leaning up and forward to give you a goodnight. “‘mk, now go back to sleep, i’ll clean this shit up.”

⟡ ݁₊ . written by sarahsangelicdoll, 2025 on tumblr! © do not repost on any third party website or repost as yours

⟡ ݁₊ . tagging muts: @moonlightrafe @bloodibambiidoll @winnie1emon @cameronsprincess @hvnlygrl

[truckstoptigers]

my brother got a bed

my sister got a bed

aaron & my sister's mom had a bed

so why was i the only one sleeping on an air mattress in a room that wasn't even truly mine

[snowballseal]

Sleepy Affection

Sylus X Reader

Summary: You're tired. Sylus is the best cuddle partner. Lots of soft love here. That's it.

Word Count: 1061

Note: Self indulgent really, I have a hard time with burnout and sleeping in general, but I know cuddling with this man would solve all of that. Sorry if I overused adjectives.

---

Days as a hunter are long. It’s a part of the job, always being alert, always willing to help when the need arises. And you love it. You love being awake before the sun rises, and the exhaustion in your limbs as you walk home. It satisfies the restlessness in your bones.

But still, it’s hard to not hit burnout eventually.

You can feel it weighing down your body as you step out of headquarters. The sun is just rising over Linkon, and you narrow your eyes up at the sky. Of course you worked through the night. It was that or let your paperwork drag into your weekend. Maybe not the best decision. You sigh, rolling your shoulders. Every muscle in your body aches for sleep.

You don’t want to go home, though. It would be too quiet, too empty. If anything, you would probably end up staring at your ceiling, impossibly restless despite how tired you are. And that sounds absolutely awful.

Before you can think too hard about it, your feet are carrying you towards the transit center. To the one place where you feel safe, despite all the reasons you shouldn’t.

---

The N109 Zone is strangely quiet in the early morning gloom. The streets are nearly empty, the only sound coming from the electric buzz of the overhead wires and the snuffling of a stray dog on the corner. For a fleeting moment, you wonder if being a criminal makes you allergic to the day. Or maybe they’re all vampires. An amused hum dances past your lips at the thought. Perhaps they’re not after the aether core in your heart, but your blood.

One man seems to be at least.

By the time you reach Sylus’ place, it feels like you're walking through a light fog. Or stepping into a dream. The home greets you with a pleasant warmth that eases the tension in your muscles. Music drifts through the halls, distant and fuzzy with that old quality that vinyl has. Like a siren song, it draws you deeper into the dark comfort of the manor.

Right to your sleeping dragon.

Even while he’s sleeping, Sylus looks…dignified. Ethereal even. The soft light peaking through his curtains casts a glow on his features, dancing across his white lashes, making them almost look like snowflakes. Your eyes trail over the relaxed line of his jaw, the contours of his chest and shoulders. He lies so still, you could almost believe he’s a statue, if not for the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He just looks so…perfect.

It’s hard to believe that this is Onychinus’ feared leader. 

Toeing off your boots, you tread carefully to the edge of the bed. The mattress dips under your weight, the sheets soft and silky under your fingers. Sylus lets out a low sigh at the movement, red eyes flickering open ever so slightly before falling back shut. Without a word, he shifts and lifts the sheets for you to crawl in next to him.

His warmth draws you in, just like his wispy, old music. You can’t resist it, not that you want to. It’s all the invitation you need to tuck yourself as close as possible, like an exhausted little kitten looking for a safe place to sleep. Sylus immediately draws your leg over his hip, long fingers kneading lazily at your thigh. Every part of you presses against his addicting warmth, drawing a content hum from your lips, completely pliant under his touch. He could do anything to you right now and you wouldn’t complain. But there’s an almost reverent feeling to the way he holds you, the way he traces shapes along your skin and presses gingerly into your wound up muscles.

It’s a rare moment of pure gentleness. No teasing quips. No haughty smirk. Just you and Sylus, the air between you thick with something so incredibly tender. You stay like that for what feels like forever, time lost to soft touches and quiet sighs. Neither of you are willing to break whatever spell has fallen over the room. 

Soon enough, though, the weight of your eyelids becomes too difficult to fight. You tuck your face into the curve of his throat, the scent of his cologne washing over your senses. It’s spicy and warm, like worn leather and rum, just so perfectly Sylus.

You wish you could stay like this forever, floating pleasantly on the edge of sleep with him. Just with him. An indescribable fondness curls somewhere deep in your chest.

“I missed you,” you admit into the crook of his neck, your voice thick with sleep and something vulnerable.

“Mmmm, I was wondering why you crawled into my bed in the middle of the morning.” 

He wasn’t, really. You both feel it whenever you can’t see each other for too long. It’s like the worst feeling of homesickness. He won’t admit to it, but you can feel it in the way his arms curl possessively around your waist, like he never wants to let you go. You slide a hand up to his chest, savoring the warmth of his skin, the steady thrum of his heart under your palm. You’ve missed this. Sylus shivers at your teasing touch, those red eyes finally flickering open again to look down at you, half-lidded and unfocused. You hold his gaze, trying to memorize every detail, every fleck of color, the dark gleam of fondness in their depths, matching your own. This is the real Sylus. Gentle and kind, passion burning just below the surface. The one only you get to see. And you love him more than you’ll ever be able to explain.

You curl your arms around his narrow waist, forehead pressing against his chest, “Is it okay that I came?”

You already know the answer. Still, Sylus humors you.

“I would have it no other way,” he rumbles lowly, lips brushing against your hair. “Now rest, sweetheart, I can tell how tired you are. We can talk in the evening.”

You hum, eyes finally falling shut, “Promise?”

“I promise.”

And just like that, you find it impossible to stay awake any longer, lulled by his words and the sound of his breathing. Every nerve, every worry, washes away, leaving you to fall into the darkness you’ve been craving, dreaming of the weekend you can spend together.

---

Honestly took so long to write. I wanted to moment to feel soft and more drawn out, don't know if it worked. But I hope y'all liked it :)

[bluem1lls]

✧₊⁺ forget about everything for a while

se-mi x fem! reader

✦ synopsis: you find your ex in the place you least expect it, and then again in the bathroom. she wants to say sorry but she doesn't know how..so maybe eating you out helps?

tw: minors dni, smut w a little plot, bathroom sex, fingering/oral (r!receiving), sub!reader, dom!se-mi, degradation (a little?), a bit of choking

authors note: hi! this is my first time writing (and in english) so im trying my best! tysm for reading and i hope u like it!

of course she's here.

you would've thought that after years of trying to get over her, the next time you'd see her, it would be at the coffee shop, where both used to go frequently. maybe even at the gas station, where she bought cigarettes and (per your request) a slushie.

you never thought you'd find your ex at the games where everyone was getting killed.

but of course you did.

so when you saw her standing there, wide eyed, being left alone to basically die as her entire group left her, the only conscious thing you could do was run to her and grab her hand.

se-mi stares at you, taking a double look to see if she was mistaken but nop, that's just her luck. it was you.

she would recognize that hair everywhere.

"what the fuck-" se-mi said, like she'd seen a ghost.

"no time to talk, maybe later" you said, dragging her into one of the rooms and closing the door behind.

she leaned against the wall and crossed her arms in front of her chest, she wanted to say a lot and at the same time, she had no words.

"why are you here?" she asked. her eyes searched for yours.

"my dad, he's.. extremely i'll and i couldn't let my mom carry with all that" you spoke, trying to regain your breath from the adrenaline of minutes ago and ignoring her pleading stare.

se-mi stares at the floor, trying to find the right words to say. what could she say to make it better.. after all these years?

"i didn't know. he's a really good man... i'm sorry"

"yeah." you reply, bitter "how could you know when you've been declining my calls and ignoring me?" you roll your eyes as you leaned against the door.

"i can't do this here, i really can't" se-mi said, putting her hands over her face trying to supress the wave of sadness that washed over her everytime she thought about you.

you bite your lip with rage. she was still avoiding you, after all this time.

"yeah no worries. i wasn't planning on staying here talking to my ex either" you mumbled.

she glanced over you trying to keep her cool facade as they open the doors

hell. you couldn't wait till this was done.

as you stirred in bed once. two. three times without being able to sleep, you decided that maybe the best would be to splash some water on your face, at least to be somewhat alert.

knocking on the door asking for the bathroom, the guards weirdly enough allow you without a lot of resistanse. maybe they're in a good mood.

you open the bathroom door and stand in front of the mirror, taking some water in between your hands to splash on your face.

you let out a sight when se-mi steps out of one of the stalls, closing the door behind her.

she looks a bit surprised when she sees you standing there. she stays in silence as both lock eyes from the mirror, her gaze softening as she roamed all over your face.

after a few seconds, she spoke in a soft and quiet voice.

"can't sleep huh?"

you nodded, turning around to look at her.

"it's been hard here. i just don't know when it's gonna be the last game" you spoke. she nodded in agreement.

there's an expression that you can't read on her face. it feels like guilty, pity and sadness all at once. you can see a hint of concern in her eyes.

"i really am sorry, you know...for not calling." she says.

you nod, getting closer to her, taking her scent. almost forgot the way she smells.

she looks at you with a frown on her face. deep down, you know she's sorry.

"i tried so hard to let you go..." you whisper, looking into her eyes.

"i tried too." she says, leaning an inch closer. "it never worked"

her eyes slowly reading all your features, as she took a deep breath and slowly placed a hand on your cheek, gentle. leaning into her hand, you sure missed her touch.

she bit her lower lip and gently cupped your face in between her hands.

"it's up to you se-mi. i've already said everything you needed to know. you were the one who was never sure" you whispered, feeling her breath on your face as the distance kept closing.

before you could even register what she was doing, you hear her mumbling a soft "fuck it" before she closed the distance and pressed her lips against yours.

the moment your lips touched, it felt like something snapped inside of both. one of her hands slid down to grab your thighs, encouring you to wrap your legs around her waist. so you did.

she pressed your body against the wall from behind while bitting rough on your lower lip. the kiss going from slow and loving to a rough, deeper one. both tongues fighting for dominance, you let her enter in your mouth as one of her hands slides from your thighs to your neck, softly squeezing for a few seconds, making you break the kiss to whimper for air.

her eyes scanned your whole face, eyes and pouty lips, basically begging her to fuck you. she let out a low groan as she kissed you again and again, going harder each time. her mind filled with nothing but the taste of your lips and the feeling of your chest pressed against her. little moans escaping from your lips, making her wanna ruin you right then and there.

"i missed this so much" you mumble in between kisses. the words sending a small pang to her chest as she pulled away from the kiss to lean her forehead against yours. her voice slightly shaking from lust, replies.

"i missed this too"

you pulled her by the neck, enough for her to kiss you again. you could feel yourself throbbing only from the kisses. grabbing her hand that sat on your waist, you lowered it down to where you needed her the most.

"i cant wait any longer.. please" you begged her to ruin you.

she looked at you with lustful eyes. "if it was any other moment, i'd make you beg, but since i dont think we have that much time.." she said, falling on her knees.

you pulled the pants and panties all in one go as she helped to get rid of them and pushed you softly against the wall.

she placed one of your legs on her shoulder and started to kiss your inner thighs, making you let go small whimpers. se-mi could feel herself growing wetter just by your scent, it was driving her crazy.

you placed a hand on her hair, softly pulling, and quickly her kisses escalated from inner thighs to your puffy clit, as her lips wrapped around it, you couldn't help but moan.

"be quiet" she hissed. "or you want everyone to know what a slut you are? maybe next time i'll fuck you in the common room" she smirked as you replied with a desesperate moan and a nod. "of course you'd like that. want everyone to know i'm the only one who fucks you stupid, princess?

as she finished her sentence, she placed her tongue on your clit. a cold feeling left you whimpering.

oh.

is that-

thats a tongue piercing.

of course she got a tongue piercing.

you covered your mouth with one hand to quiet your moans as the other one pulled her hair.

as two fingers entered your needy cunt, you bit your lip to quiet a loud moan. she kept working her tongue on your clit while roughly doing and 'in and out' motion with her fingers that was quickly dragging you to the edge. her eyes became almost black with lust as she roamed your fucked out face, your eyes rolled back from pleasure.

"i forgot how good you are at this oh my god-" you kept moaning and whimering as her fingers became rougher and quicker inside and her tongue picked a more rapid pace "no one will ever make me cum like you do se-mi"

her mind clouded with lust as she heard your words. she added another finger and could feel your cunt clenched around her.

"gonna cum baby? you feel so thight around my fingers." she said, her words driving you closer and closer to your release. "poor baby, she was just begging to be fucked like the slut she is, i bet no one ever made you this wet" she cooed while teasing. se-mi chuckles at the way you moan senseless in agreement.

"i need you to use your words, can you do that baby?" she says, her tongue pace fastening making you clench even more. "or maybe i should stop and let you talk"

"n-no please- please. im so close, s- so close please" i begged in between whimpers.

she grunted, fucking you harder. "cum for me princess, cum in my mouth. you're such a good slut" she said while wrapping her lips and sucking around my clit.

the motion of her lips and her fingers curling against your spongy walls at the same time, hitting your g spot, was enough to have your cunt pulsing and eyes rolling back. you felt the pressure snap and a warmth spreading on your lower tummy, you arched your back.

she keeps slurping everything until youre a whiny and trembling mess.

she decreases her pace, slowly removing her fingers and standing up, making you lick her fingers clean, staring into her eyes.

she helps you get dressed again, and it feels like how it used to all over again, the soft aftercare.

after cleaning you, she softly kisses your forehead and pecks your lips, she was apart from you once, and she's never gonna do it again.

"i love you. i'm so sorry for everything" she says, still trying to catch her breath.

you nod, tired, and give her a fucked out smile as she chuckles.

"i still love you too. so this was a 'im sorry for breaking your heart, i'll fix it by eating you out' kind of apology?" you say, trying to stop your legs from shaking.

you let yourself into her arms as she hugs you tight and fixes your hair gently.

"mhm, but i'll have to keep doing it, just so i can make sure you forgive me"

"please do..."

[ohmygraves]

simon who came back really, really late at night and was so tired he could barely keep his eyes open. he was out for a really tiring mission and returned to his spouse sleeping soundly on the bed, didn't even bother showering and just stripping his clothes down because it was just god awful nasty after being marinated in it for days. he was out in seconds, on his side of the bed, likely flopped his arms and legs over his spouse too without realizing.

he was awake like twelve hours later, still so tired and didn't even notice that he was alone on the bed. his old clothes were gone from the bedroom floor, he's got some water on the nightstand and his nasty, dirt-crusted phone is clean and charged next to it (you could only clean so much of it, that thing is likely beyond dirty but he refused to get a new one unless it died on him).

taking a long swig of the water, he heard faint chopping sounds from the kitchen, and a nice tasty smell wafting through the air. it smells really good, you're likely in the middle of cooking something, and he already missed work anyway.

he went to grab his old t-shirts (likely the one you were wearing sometime before he came home) and walked towards the kitchen, following the yummy scent. he didn't even check the time, but he was so hungry that time is no concern of his at this point.

there he sees you, standing over the counter chopping some vegetables, and he was instantly transported to his childhood home. watching his mom cook from the doorway to the kitchen, hearing that chopping sounds from the wooden cutting board, and something tasty boiling over the stove. some soup, maybe?

you didn't notice him, you were too busy trying to cook something, dropping some of that vegetable into the pot and letting it boil, and only noticed him when you turned around to grab something from the fridge. simon didn't even approach you, just standing there staring at you, and you're wondering if everything is okay. he was usually quiet but this was odd seeing as somehow he seems like he's got his mind somewhere else.

"simon, i didn't even hear you come in." you sighed, trying to calm your racing heart when he spooked you, "sorry, food will be ready in a bit, just wait for a moment."

simon snapped out of his daydream, shaking his head as he approached you, hugging you from behind. he didn't say anything, just hiding his face at the crook of your neck.

you're not sure what's wrong with him for being so quiet, but you could assume the gist of it as you felt his tears dropping against your skin.

[imaginedisish]

Anything (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)

A/N: Something is seriously wrong with me...I cannot stop writing for this man. Started this one last night after hearing him say "princess" in "The Wolverine" (2013). This is another nightmare fic, but I promise it's different! Heavily inspired by "anything" by Adrianne Lenker. Hope you guys enjoy!

Summary: Your summer affair with Logan is, in fact, not just a summer affair.

Warnings: 18+ SMUT!! MINORS DNI!!! Unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), (some?)fingering, cockwarming, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, nightmares, fem!reader/afab!reader, canon-typical violence, mutant!reader (unspecified abilities), feelings, angst, cursing, probably grammatical errors, I think that's it!

Word Count: 3,213 short for me

It started one summer night—under the stars. You had slipped out the window of your room in the mansion. You were sitting with your legs crossed, perched precariously on the old, shingled roof. You never got much sleep—you simply couldn’t—even though you knew the mansion was safe. Staying awake remained a solace, a comfort. It meant fewer nightmares; it meant you couldn’t be haunted by the hurt of your past.

Staring up at the stars beat staring up at your ceiling, and so you had made it a habit to crawl out of your window and sit on the roof. 

Until that one summer night, when Logan found you out there.

He shoved open his window and stuck his head outside. “What the fuck are you doing out here?” You smiled, turning your head to face him. You shrugged your shoulders, giggling at the concern on his face. He mocked you, shrugging his own shoulders in imitation. 

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t hide your smile and the way he made you laugh. You and Logan had been growing closer, spending more time together. He was looking out for you—constantly and protectively. It made you feel good knowing that someone cared so deeply. 

“Why don’t you come over here?” You called over to him, patting the spot next to you. He shook his head and ducked back inside. You quickly assumed he didn’t feel like being with you, your heart sinking down into your stomach. You wanted him to come out, to sit with you. Maybe you could’ve—

But then there he was, pushing the window as far open as it could possibly go, struggling to climb out. It wasn’t too much of a scuffle over to you, your rooms being right next to one another, but he made a big deal of the trek nonetheless. He huffed for dramatic effect as he sat down next to you. 

“This is so incredibly dangerous,” he had said, sarcasm heavy in his voice. 

You gasped. “Logan Howlett cares about safety?” You clasped your hand over your mouth for flare. “My safety?” 

He smiled, but there was something serious in his face. “I do, actually.” You tried not to notice as he inched closer to you, your shoulders brushing together. “What are you doing out here, princess?” He asked again. 

You smirked at the familiar nickname. “I don’t really like sleeping,” you muttered. 

Logan nodded. He understood better than anyone else. “I know…” He trailed off, looking up at the sky. “But why sit out here?”

“It’s quiet,” you whispered. “And it’s beautiful. Better than being in there, just sitting in bed.” 

He nodded again. “It is beautiful.” You turned your head back to Logan as he spoke. He wasn’t looking at the sky anymore. He was looking at you. His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. “Did you have a dream tonight?”

You shook your head from side to side. “Didn’t give myself the chance to yet, and I don’t plan on doing so.” You sighed, looking down at your legs, still crossed like a pretzel in front of you. “Wish we didn’t have to deal with this, you know?”  

Logan slowly brought his arm around your shoulder, as if he was waiting for you to shove him away. He had touched you before, but not quite like this. It was always in passing—always short and fleeting. But this? This was intentional. You leaned into his touch and let your head fall to his shoulder. “You don’t have to deal with it alone,” he offered, his lips faintly brushing at your temple. 

You tilted up to look at him, his face inches away from yours. He pulled you in closer, his breath fanning across your cheek. “You’re not alone,” he repeated. 

And then his lips were on yours. You kissed on the roof. You let him tug you into his window, into his bed. He tasted you that night. You spread your legs and let him inside. And then you slept. You slept without waking up in a cold sweat. You slept without reliving your past. And for the first time in a long time, so did he. 

And now it's become a habit. He opens his window for you, and you climb across the roof and inside. Every night. You haven’t slept alone since the beginning of the summer, and it’s August now. There’s no label on whatever it is you two are. But you know it’s serious—the way he asks every night if you can stay, even though he knows you’ve already made up your mind and that you aren’t going anywhere. 

But tonight is different. Logan was sent on a day trip with some of the students, while you were tasked with staying at the school to run through training exercises. It’s the end of the day now—10 PM. You’re exhausted as you let your back crash down on the mattress. 

Thanks to Logan, your body has become accustomed to sleeping. You can feel it calling you, feel your tiredness creeping in at the corner of your eyes. You try to fight the feeling, but it’s no use. Your eyes flutter open and closed, resisting until you can’t anymore, and you fall asleep. 

There’s a piercing ringing in your ears. Your chest is heaving violently. You’re strapped down to a chair, a needle inches away from your forearm. Maybe it’s Stryker. Maybe it’s some other mutant hunter or government agent ready to do their worst. You thrash around in the chair, yanking at the restraints to no avail.

You choke out a sob, throwing your head back in agony. Logan is all you can think about. What if he’s in danger? What if you never see him again? What if this is it?

Just as the needle breaks skin, the piercing ringing starts up again, and everything goes black. 

You force yourself to sit up, cold sweat drenching every inch and curve of your body. You look over to the clock on your nightstand: 12:37 AM. You had only been asleep for two hours. You shut your eyes, letting your head bump into the headboard behind you. You take deep, slow breaths, trying to lower your heart rate, silently reminding yourself that it was all just a dream. 

You’re not exactly sure what brought the nightmare on, but you know you aren’t going back to sleep. You crawl out of bed and into the darkness of your room, carefully walking to your window and shoving it as far open as it can possibly go. You climb out and sit on the still-hot roof to look at the stars. 

The twinkling balls of heat shine above you. It hits you then that even stars must die. They have all that energy, all that beauty, and then they burn out. You swallow at the thought, tears burning behind your sinuses. 

You don’t want to look over at Logan’s room—don’t want to see the window closed. The trip was to some aquarium down the shore in Jersey. You know he’s likely not home yet, and for the first time since all of this started, you’re worried about bothering him. You don’t want to force him to deal with your—

And then you finally see it. His window is open, the curtains billowing around inside. You let out a tight breath you didn’t know you were holding, your shoulders going slack at the thought of crawling into his bed. 

You scale the roof carefully, bending down as you climb inside his room. You get tangled up in the curtains, and you shove them aside to reveal Logan in his bed, eyes shut. You swallow harshly at the sight—his chest bare and his hair a mess. Sometimes you’ll stay up and watch him sleep, just to see this, just to know what he looks like when it's late and no one else is around. 

But then he’s twitching. He grunts, his chest heaving rapidly. You sprint across the room to his side, practically tripping over nothing in the rush of it all. He’s fisting the sheets, mumbling nonsense, violently turning left and right. You can see the pain in the tightness of his jaw, in the way his muscles flex. Your heart drops deep into the pit of your stomach. 

“Logan,” you call out, bringing a hand to his shoulder. You know he’s sensitive—know he can bring the claws out at any second—so you take care with your movements. “Logan,” you call again, louder this time. You grip his shoulder harder, shaking him, trying to force him out of the nightmare. 

You think you hear your name slip from his lips. “I’m right here,” you soothe, bringing your other hand to his abdomen, rubbing softly as you continue to shake his shoulder. He’s a sweating mess, his body cold and hot at the same time. You want to take his pain away, to make all of this better. “Come on,” you beg. “Wake up.”

And then he’s sitting up, his eyes open wide. You step back, giving him the space he needs as he comes to. His claws shoot out, ready to strike. He turns his head, his eyes frantically searching the room until he finds you. 

He quickly retracts his claws, and you watch as his shoulders relax. His chest still rises and falls rapidly with every breath he takes. 

“Logan,” you whisper, stepping closer to him again. “Are you—” 

He cuts you off, pawing at you, grabbing your sides, and pulling you into his bed. He’s on top of you in an instant, caging you in, his throat bobbing as he swallows harshly. 

“Can you stay?” It’s a ritual, the way he asks. He knows your answer—always does. But he asks anyway. You know he wants to hear it from your lips, wants to know that you want this, too. 

Your heart clenches in your chest. “Yes,” you sigh as one of his hands comes to rest underneath your shirt, climbing slowly up your stomach. “But Logan—”

He swallows your protests with a kiss, and you moan into his mouth. It’s hurried, rushed, like he’ll die if he can't have you right away. “Don’t wanna talk about it. Need you now. Talk after,” he mumbles against your lips, kissing you again before you can say a word. 

You understood—you needed him too. Needed to feel him inside you, under your skin, everywhere. 

His hand slinks up to your bare chest; you had forgotten you weren’t wearing a bra, just one of Logan’s old t-shirts and your panties. His touch is rough; needy. He squeezes your tits, his fingertips brushing your nipples, drawing tight circles. You moan his name, already squirming underneath him. 

Logan’s erection grinds against your core. He’s just wearing his boxers—nothing else—but it’s still too much. You need him bare before you, deep inside you. You lift your hips up to meet his, your arms wrapping around his back to pull him closer.

He takes the hint, his hand gliding back down your body to the hem of your panties. He reaches down farther, teasing your folds through the fabric. “Fuck, so fucking wet already,” he mumbles, slipping your panties to the side so that he can feel you. You shudder under his touch, his fingers spreading your slickness up to your clit. He strokes teasingly, the ache between your thighs growing with every flick and circle. 

It feels like heaven, but you need him closer. “Logan,” you whimper, fisting the sheets underneath you. “Want you, please.” It’s a desperate prayer and not just a request. 

Logan suddenly pulls his hand away and you whine at the loss of contact. “I know, sweetheart,” he soothes reassuringly, sitting up and pushing his boxers down. You’ll never get tired of the sight of his cock springing free against his stomach. His hands are back on your hips in an instant, squeezing lightly before hooking his fingers under the waistband of your panties and yanking them down. 

He's back on top of you, lowering down onto one forearm as his other hand pulls your shirt above your tits. “Wanna see you, pretty girl,” he groans, pressing a chaste kiss to your temple before his forehead meets yours.

His hand comes down to the base of his cock, guiding his tip to your entrance, to where you need him most. His chest heaves in time with yours, your nipples brushing against him. He stays there for a moment, not moving. His eyes search your face, as if to confirm you’re real—that you’re truly here with him. You can see the need in his eyes. It’s not lust anymore—not just about sex. It’s never been about that. 

It has always meant more. 

Logan suddenly thrusts into you, bottoming out down to the hilt, stretching you open. You can feel him throb inside you. He groans at your ear. “So goddamn tight.” He doesn’t pull back out, his hips still, his cock buried deep inside you. You need him to move, need to feel his cock rub against your walls. You try to grind down on him, but he doesn’t let you. His hand latches onto your hip, keeping you in place. 

“Lo,” you whine. 

“Love when you call me that, sweetheart,” he growls, his hips still stuck in place. “Just wanna feel you like this for a minute. Don’t move.” 

It’s all too much. You need more, need him to fuck into you. Logan frees his hold on your hip, his hand trailing down between your bodies. He finds your clit, drawing achingly slow circles there. It’s nowhere near enough, but the temporary relief feels so good. 

“Always want you this close,” he murmurs, his hips finally starting to move, slowly but surely. You arch your back at the feeling. “Feels so good, so fucking good.” 

He’s taking his time, committing how you feel around his cock to his memory. He’s filling you up, taking in every inch you have to give him. You’re still adjusting to his size, his cock working you open with every thrust. His fingertips swirl around your clit, adding more pressure to the sensitive bud. You’re already close, already putty in his hands. 

Your walls flutter around him, drawing him in, deeper and deeper. 

“Should’ve just brought you in here when I got home,” he husks between starving kisses. “Shouldn’t have waited.” 

You wrap your legs around his waist. “I’m here now,” you coo, your nails scratching at his back as he pounds into you, picking up his pace, his hips snapping into yours. 

“D-don’t know what I’d do without you,” he stutters, his voice suddenly shaky. He’s still fucking into you relentlessly, pumping in and out. “F-fucking need you all the time, princess.” His words and that nickname light a spark at the base of your spine. You can feel yourself melting, ready to come undone. 

“So close,” you choke out in between thrusts. 

You clamp down on him. “That’s it,” Logan whispers, his cock rutting into you, his fingers still circling your clit. He’s working you through it, taking care of you, making you feel good. “Come on my cock, pretty girl. Wanna feel it.” 

You can’t help but do as he says—that spark at the base of your spine spreading like wildfire. You’re moaning his name, walls squeezing around him, stars blurring your vision as your orgasm floods through you. But Logan isn’t slowing down, his cock pounding into you and his fingers stroking your clit long after you’ve finished. 

“Love feeling you come,” he mutters, biting your lip in between kisses. “Wanna feel you come again, princess.” 

You’re already beyond fucked out, overstimulated, and far too sensitive, but his words goad you along. “’S’so much, Lo,” you whimper, tripping over your sentence as he splits you apart, sinks into you, hitting your g-spot with every pump. 

“Know you can take it,” he praises, pressing a kiss just under your ear, then to your pulse point, and back up to your lips. “Know you can come again for me, can’t you?”

“Y-yes,” you stammer. “A-anything for you.” You mean it, and he knows you do.

“Fuck,” he curses, his thrusts growing sloppier as the words fall from your lips. “F-fucking beautiful, perfect.” 

You look to where you two are connected—where you become one—and watch as his cock disappears into you. It’s too much, the sight, the feeling of him fucking into you, rubbing your clit, chasing your orgasm. It’s all it takes to have you falling apart underneath him, coming on his cock again. 

After a few soothing strokes to your clit, his nails trail up your body, his fingertips exploring your bare skin. Logan curses under his breath, your name on his lips. You know he’s close behind—almost there. 

“Don’t pull out,” you whisper in his ear, his cock pulsing inside you. “Stay.” 

That’s all the permission he needs to fill you up, his hips stuttering as he comes. “F-fuck,” he groans, his hand slipping under your back to hike you up, to bury himself as deep as possible, to hold you flush against him as he finishes inside you. 

He pumps a few more times, riding out his orgasm, but he doesn’t pull out. He grabs your thigh and hoists your leg around his waist as he shifts you onto your side. You’re next to him now, your chests still pressed together.

“Lemme stay inside you,” he mumbles. 

You nod against him. “Okay.” You squeeze your leg around his waist, taking him deeper. 

The room is silent, your shared shallow breaths the only sound. The curtains dance in the breeze from the still-open window. Your eyes flutter shut, and Logan’s lips press a kiss to each of them. 

After a few moments, he breaks the silence. “Don’t ever wanna spend a night without you.”

Your eyes flutter back open, and you’re met with Logan’s soft, sleepy face. His hair is a mess. You can’t help but smile at the intimacy—the domesticity. “You don’t have to,” you say back. 

“I mean it,” his voice is steady, firm, the sleepiness replaced suddenly with something more serious. “Need you with me all the time.”

“I know,” you say. And then he’s drawing stars across your back. It makes you think of the night this all started. The night everything changed. “I’ll always stay. Always.” You blink and an unexpected tear slips down your cheek. You swallow harshly, unprepared for the vulnerability of the moment. 

Logan immediately notices and brings his thumb up to your cheek, brushing the tear away. “Just want you. Give anything to make you mine.” 

“I already am,” is all you can manage to say. “Don’t need anything.” 

“Gonna give it to you anyway.” He kisses the spot where he wiped the tear away. 

You start to drift off—his arms around you, his cock still buried inside you—the thought of a forever with Logan replaying in your mind. 

You think he’s asleep, but then you hear his soft husk at your ear. “I love you. Always will.”

“I love you, too.”