#but they are slumbering deep for the moment

[lighting-and-shadow]

Ikigai, Part 5

Summary: You’re desperately in love with a man who already belongs to another.

Ikigai (n.) (Japanese): "A reason for being," the thing that gets you up in the morning.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 6

You awake to Sylus next to you. You aren’t cuddled up in his arms like you were a few days ago. Rather, he cradles one of your hands in his. It’s surrounded in his warmth.

You’re half tempted to keep it that way, to soak in this little moment because you know that odds are you won’t be getting many of these in the near future. You ignore that part of you and carefully remove your hand from his.

He tries to resist, even while in deep slumber (the man’s always slept like the dead since you started regularly sleeping in the same room). It’s adorable, like he can’t bare to let you go so much that it shows up in his sleep. You smile down at him drowsily.

You move your other hand to stroke his hair. Sylus thankfully doesn’t stir awake. You need this moment to yourself. Because while you’re still hurt by his words, you’ve missed his touch. You’ve missed the quiet moments of intimacy the two of you would have with each other daily.

Somedays you’d curl up on one of the couches as you’d read a book to him, either because he was being lazy that day or because it was in a language he didn’t speak (you learned many languages during your time in the auction and wandering about). Others you’d just sit in the living room together, him disassembling and reassembling a gun while you cut a jewel he got you from a client. On rare occasions, you’d dance with him and the twins early in the morning playing some obscure vinyl record.

Small moments were what made up you two’s relationship. Small moments that mean the world to you. You twirl a lock of his hair on your finger, just letting yourself relax.

Sylus’ stirring shatters the quiet scene. You jerk your hand away as fast as possible. Seeing those crimson eyes again just reminds you of what he said.

“Have you awaken, sleeping beauty?” You tease.

Your voice is hoarse. And Sylus quickly moves to grab you some water. You take small sips, surprised by how abused your throat feels.

I wasn’t asleep for that long, was I?

Sylus, sensing your confusion, whispers, “You were screaming before you passed out.”

You flush at his words. Screaming? You don’t remember doing that.

You stare down at the cup in your hands. Despite Sylus’ gentle tone and expression, you couldn’t help but be embarrassed. Having a mental breakdown was bad enough. But screaming your lungs out to the point of hurting your voice? That was just pathetic.

“Maybe I finally cracked under the weight of my foolish boss and his many messes?”

Your words are meant to be light-hearted; they do the exact opposite. Sylus’ face falls, and you watch his thread thrash like a wild animal. It’s alive with a storm of emotion. And you caused it.

The more vengeful part of you is satisfied by this. He’s caused you so much turmoil over the past few days. A little pain could do him good. He’s lied to you, and broken your heart. Not that he knows the latter or how deep the former goes.

Because despite working and being with Sylus for so long, you’ve never told him the truth. Not about your abilities nor about your past. Sure, you’ve told him bits and pieces, little stories about your childhood and what you did for work before Onychinus. But not the hard stuff.

You’ve never told him about the depth of the abandonment, of the betrayal of so many. You’ve never told him how far your loneliness runs. You’ve never told him that you have no soulmate. You’ve never told him what you could see.

You’ve wanted to. Many times, in fact, have the words almost slipped past your lips. But you’ve never let them truly fall out. Because why would you tempt history repeating itself?

“You changed my clothes?” You break the tension with a silly question.

The large, fancy black shirt smells of him. Of his cologne, and the unique scent that is Sylus. It clings to your skin. You love it.

“We both know mine suit you better, Gamayun.”

His voice isn’t as steady as usual. It trembles.

“Are you insulting my preferences?”

You turn to him.

“No. Just saying that mine will always be better.”

He looks at you with a soft expression. His hands drift to yours, fingers encircling your wrists and allowing the rest of your hands to sit on his palms. His eyes never leave yours during this. He’s studying you for any discomfort or any sign of you not wanting his touch. As if you ever could.

When you accept his touch, his eyes light up. The smile he gives you melts your heart.

“Keep telling yourself that foolish man.”

It’s a beat of silence between the two of you.

“I’m sorry, Gamayun,” you almost don’t hear what he says. “I’m so sorry.”

Sylus’ head is bowed to you. He looks so small at the foot of the bed. You want to reach out and hold him, cradle him in your arms and let him be safe there. Just like you did the first time you two got drunk together and just talked about your pasts.

You think that was the moment you started falling for him: when you realized there was someone just as lonely and broken as you. Him, the last fiend, and you, the only person to ever be born without a soulmate. Him, blessed with the power to see people’s desires, and you, cursed to see the love which you can never have.

It’s poetic. And it hurts. It hurts how perfect you are for one another, but the universe decided against you two.

The feeling of Sylus’ eyes on you reminds you that you haven’t responded to his plea. He doesn’t reach out to touch you. It feels strangely empty. But you suppose it’s best you get used to this now rather than later.

“I don’t accept,” you force out.

You turn your head away from Sylus. Seeing whatever expression he has on his face now will weaken your resolve.

“Oh,” the small sound Sylus lets out is beyond painful.

“Yes, “oh,”” you dig your heart’s and your relationship with Sylus’ grave further with each word out of your mouth. “Did you think a simple apology would make me happy?”

Under normal circumstances, yes. If Sylus had said practically anything else to you during your argument, than an apology probably could’ve soothed you. But he said those words, those cursed words. The words that’ve torn through so many of your relationships. The words that rendered promises meaningless and time worthless.

He said those words. And thus, you don’t have it in your heart to forgive him.

“You can’t smooth this over like usual.”

Sylus wilts the more you speak. The large, imposing, figure he stouts shrinks upon your every word. You keep your eyes away from him, as if ignoring him will make the pain of what you’re doing soften.

“You’ve betrayed my trust, Sylus,” you say his name firmly as a reminder to yourself and him to not waiver and keep the boundary you’ve set up. “You’ve betrayed it in such a way I didn’t think you of all people could.”

Saying it aloud makes the hurt fresh all over again. It makes you go back to all the times where you’ve been in this position. All the times where people you thought cared for you hurt you the second they found their soulmate.

And the more it hurts, the more you laugh at yourself. You knew this would happen. You knew the second you fell in love with him this would happen.

But you still act like a victim. You still hurt the man you love because he committed the simple crime of loving his soulmate instead of you.

“I just need you to trust me on this. Please. This will all be over soon.”

Over because he’ll leave you, that dark, annoying, voice in your head whispers. Over because he’ll abandon you like all the rest.

“It is you who doesn’t trust me, Sylus. That’s how this all started. You didn’t trust me, which caused my trust in you to waver. I do not need to do anything for you.”

“How can I fix this?”

“Telling me the truth would be a start.”

He says nothing. You fall apart every second he doesn’t speak.

Why? Why are you so willing to protect her?

You ask the question despite knowing the answer: because soulmates are everything. You’ll never compare to her.

“Than can you even say you’re truly sorry? Or are you just trying to appease me?”

“Of course not. You know I never say anything I don’t mean.”

“So you meant to use those words exactly? You meant to shut me out? You meant to permanently warp our relationship?”

“That’s not what I—“

“Than what did you mean, Sylus?” You spit out his name like it’s poison; he flinches like you stabbed him. “Because that’s what I think you meant. We had a deal when I came to work for you, with you. And you broke it.”

Sylus whipped to face you. He has a wild look in his eyes, and his lips begin to quiver. It’s as if he can guess your next words.

“You gave me your word that you’d never lie to me. You promised me. And yet you’ve done exactly that.”

You take a shaky breath before you land the death blow, “I have every right to walk out of here, right here, right now.”

Sylus’ hand zip out to grab you by the shoulders. He forces you to face him. You could almost cry from how scared he looks. There’s an almost feral glow in his gaze, like the dragon he once was is bleeding into view again but just through his eyes. As if you’re some important piece of his hoard and someone’s trying to take you.

It burns you to do this to him. Because abandonment and loneliness is something the two of you bonded on. But broken trust is also something you bonded on. And he broke yours. And he’ll continue to break it for her.

“You either tell me the truth, or….”

“Or what?” Sylus sounds choked up, as if he’s about to cry.

“I don’t know yet. Maybe I’ll leave. Or maybe I’ll just stop being your Gamayun. I haven’t decided yet.”

You try to breath to steady yourself, your entire body vibrating with that one inhale, before finishing, “But none of that will happen if you just tell me the truth.”

“It is the truth. What I have with her and what I have with you cannot be compared.”

You say nothing more. You knew that; by God, you knew that. But it still hurts.

Why?

Why is he so willing to go so far for the woman who killed him? He’d risk you, his partner, for her. Lie to you. Hurt you. Betray you.

Leave you, a voice in your head says.

But not her. Not his killer. He’ll protect her no matter the cost. But you? You’re nothing. You’re nothing compared to the woman that he let take his life. Would he do such a thing for you?

No.

He knows she killed him. Murdered him. Shoved a claymore deep into his chest and ripped his life from him.

But he still loves her.

How could you possibly compete with that?

You quickly sit up further in Sylus’ bed to swing your legs to side of it. You needed to get up. You couldn’t stew in these thoughts any longer.

“Where… where are you going? Why are you running off?”

“And what would telling you accomplish? You have your secrets, I have mine.”

Sylus pulls back as if you’ve burned him. It’s a low blow, sure, but you’re no longer in a state to care. You just need to get out. So even though all you wear is his shirt, undergarments, and loose shorts, you leave the room. A brief glimpse of the closet you share with him reminds you that you’ll have to move your stuff soon.

Wouldn’t do good for Miss Hunter to see that. She’ll misunderstand.

Just like you’ve misunderstood. You’re not his. He’s not yours.

Author's Note: sort of comfort (?) next chapter. Not from Sylus though...

I'm so fucking mean.

Taglist: @eolivy, @rafayelridesfisheatsfish, @animegamerfox, @jasperjokester, @schrodingerskimdokja, @just--crys, @snowdynasty, @shi-thats-kiera, @mansonofmadness, @dwuclvr, @ameilli, @katiedoesstuff101, @everythingistaken00, @napa-the-yappa, @hanaluxx, @lovesick-sylus, @tenaciouszombiewombat, @ladyparamount, @applepi405, @midnight-reverie, @69-gojos-wife-69, @bellagrayson-wayne, @phisen, @idkmanimjusthorny, @munchychuusy, @autumn2534, @poptrim, @sillyfreakfanparty, @zaynesfirefly, @flamedancer13, @thissmartdumbass, @mrsllawliet, @jeondyy, @ssetsuka, @dels-page, @that-lost-one, @johnnysactualgf, @mariquitas-en-verano @toelady, @sinnamon-bunn, @yesbiaswrecked, @doggyteam2028, @little-rays-of-darkness, @albatrossblue, @vyntheria, @silverianni, @browneyedgirl22, @tiklestar, @beaconsxd, @pepperushia

[kxsagi]

slept through 12 of my 30 timers but the other 28 timers woke me from my coma-like slumber

I have come, with a Request 😋 Ahem.

Blue lock boys with a Reader who they're really publicly even close with, and not just friends kind of close, but so close that everyone automatically assumes they're dating, and the blue lock boys don't deny it because they are like head over heels.

But in truth, while they do all the couple stuff with reader and even live with her, reader is completely oblivious and calls it normal best friend stuff and the blue lock boys are absolutely frustrated. preferably with sae, rin, kaiser, otoya and whoever else you want (•⩊•)

“𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐢𝐦”

a/n: this concept is so juicy omg i am here for it 🤤

also sleeping through your timers is so real i fear

ft. itoshi sae, itoshi rin, kaiser michael, otoya eita, bachira meguru, mikage reo, isagi yoichi, nagi seishiro, shidou ryusei, ness alexis, karasu tabito

itoshi sae

“we’re just best friends” you say, as sae spoons you on the couch like it’s the most natural thing in the world. 

he’s been in love with you for years, but the second you moved in together and started calling it “platonically sharing rent,” he realized god was testing him. 

cooks you breakfast every morning. lets you eat off his plate. lets you steal his clothes. still gets annoyed when you call him your “best bro.” 

one time you kissed his cheek in public as a joke. it trended in spain with the headline “sae itoshi’s mysterious lover.” 

he didn’t deny it. 

“what do you mean we’re not dating?” he finally asks one night, deadpan, while you’re brushing your teeth. 

“wait, you thought we were?” 

he has never known heartbreak until this moment. 

and yet he still brings you a blanket and tucks you in after. 

he’s in too deep. 

itoshi rin

touch-starved menace who lets you touch him because it’s you. 

he doesn’t do this with anyone else. no one gets to poke his cheek. no one gets to play with his hair while he’s gaming. no one gets to walk around in his clothes except you. 

he has confessed 3 times. you thought all 3 were jokes. 

“rin, i love you,” you once said while drunk and clinging to his arm. 

he nearly passed out on the spot. 

when you said the same thing to your cat 2 seconds later, he nearly passed away. 

he can’t even get mad at you. he just sulks for days. 

his entire team thinks you're dating. he gets called “whipped” on a weekly basis. 

refuses to correct anyone. actually glares at them harder if they imply otherwise. 

he will keep living in this delusion until you finally realize the truth and kiss him for real. 

kaiser michael

he literally introduces you as his girlfriend. and you just go with it. 

“oh that’s just kaiser being dramatic 😄” – girl. be serious. 

buys you matching necklaces and has his arm around you 90% of the time. you’re practically in his lap in every photo. 

fangirls ship you. he absolutely has a folder of fan edits of “[yourshipname]” on his phone. 

he flirts with you constantly. you flirt back. neither of you break character. 

you once called him your “platonic soulmate” and he nearly choked on his own spit. 

“you think soulmates are platonic now? you’re gonna kill me.” 

makes up fake anniversaries just to celebrate them with you. 

“happy 6-months-since-you-moved-in day.” 

“thanks, roomie 🥰” 

he screams into his pillow every night. 

otoya eita

biggest fake boyfriend energy ever. if he’s not dating you, then what IS he doing? 

you sleep in the same bed. you call him “babe” when you're joking. his hand is always on your waist. and you still insist you’re just besties. 

he’s so down bad it’s physically painful. 

once introduced you to someone as his “partner” and you were like “awww you mean like crime partners 🤭” 

he cried. 

flirts with you shamelessly. you think it’s all jokes. it’s not. he’s suffering. 

everyone is convinced you’re in love. otoya included. 

but when he finally tries to kiss you during a movie night and you pause to ask “wait are we doing couple stuff or friend stuff rn?” 

he literally malfunctions. 

“i’m gonna die alone.” 

still cuddles you to sleep tho. he’s not gonna pass that up. 

bachira meguru

he’s your best friend! your little monster boy! your cuddle buddy! your ENTIRE BOYFRIEND WHO YOU SOMEHOW HAVEN’T NOTICED IS IN LOVE WITH YOU. 

everyone around you assumes you're dating. he draws you into his selfies, brings you to press events, and kisses your forehead like it's second nature. 

and you? you just giggle and say “haha he’s just silly like that!” 

he’s not silly. he’s desperate. 

literally introduces you to his mom as “the one.” 

still doesn’t correct you when you say “we’re just roommates lol.” 

he’s a patient man. he will wait. 

but one day he absolutely grabs your face and is like, “just to be clear. if i kiss you right now… are we still ‘just friends’ orrrr…?” 

pray for him. 

mikage reo

treats you like royalty. buys you flowers. gets you jewelry. lets you use his black card. 

“my best friend deserves the world <3” 

SIR. 

sometimes you joke like “lol you treat me better than any boyfriend ever has!” and he’s like “good. because i’m better than any boyfriend.” 

he said what he said. 

his dad thinks you’re engaged to his son. 

honestly you act married. he picks you up from work. he brings you coffee. you share a bed in hotels. 

still you call it “normal roommate behavior” like you're not literally couple-coded in every single way. 

one day he just looks at you and goes, “you know you’re in love with me, right?” 

“what? no i’m not! i just like your face and your money and your company and your laugh and –” 

oh. 

isagi yoichi

this man is the most boyfriend-coded best friend to ever exist. 

he makes you snacks, helps you study, ties your shoelaces, and sleeps with his head on your lap. 

“aw thanks yoichi! you’re like the perfect bestie!” 

he dies a little inside every time. 

you share a blanket when you watch movies. he always lets you pick the show. he even paints your nails once during a rainy day. 

he’s one emotional breakdown away from fully confessing. 

but every time he tries, you say stuff like “we’re such a power duo omg, can’t believe we’re not dating lol!!” 

he laughs. nervously. 

he’s literally praying you realize it on your own. 

until then, he’ll just keep living the boyfriend life in silent agony. 

nagi seishiro

doesn’t understand how you don’t already know he’s in love with you. 

you sleep in the same bed. you share showers (not at the same time but STILL). he lets you feed him. 

you call it “roommate bonding.” 

he calls it “slow torture.” 

“you’re comfy,” he mumbles while clinging to you like a human pillow. 

“awww, besties for life 🫶” 

his soul leaves his body. 

he doesn’t want to put in effort to confess, but he will if you keep playing dumb. 

“hey. if i kissed you, would that be annoying?” 

you: “uh… no?” 

“cool.” 

and then he does it. 

that’s his version of a love letter. 

shidou ryusei

the most feral “not-boyfriend” ever. 

he’s not subtle. he wants to bite you, kiss you, claim you. 

and yet… you think he’s just “really passionate about friendship.” 

“you’re so weirdly loyal to me it’s cute.” 

loyal? LOYAL? he’s planning your WEDDING. 

lets you wear his chains. lets you ride on his back. lets you slap his abs and call him your “emotional support psychopath.” 

and still you won’t date him. 

“babe. we live together. we sleep together. you’ve literally shaved my jaw for me. what do i gotta do to make you realize?” 

you blink. “huh? realize what??” 

“i’m gonna eat drywall.” 

ness alexis

poor boy’s heart explodes every time you say “roomie bestie 💕” in public. 

he is in love with you in seventeen different languages. 

cooks for you, folds your laundry, sends you good morning texts from the other room. 

kaiser makes fun of him relentlessly. 

“isn’t she your girlfriend?” 

“i-i wish 😭” 

you once kissed his cheek and called it “friend appreciation.” 

he almost fainted. 

tried to write a love letter. ended up crying into it because he didn’t know how to start it without sounding desperate. 

“what’s the german word for ‘i think my best friend is my soulmate and it hurts’?” 

lives for the day you finally realize and hug him a little longer than usual. 

karasu tabito

king of fake chill. acts unbothered. is actually dying inside. 

he calls you “babe” for fun. you call him “bestie bae.” it’s a sick game. 

he flirts. constantly. you think he’s just being a clown. 

you’ll sit on his lap, steal his fries, and call it “classic friend behavior.” 

“girl. we slow-danced in the living room at 2 AM last night. what part of this is FRIEND behavior??” 

“bonding 😇” 

he wants to scream. 

his mom literally thinks you’re dating. she sends you gifts. he lets her. 

karasu tries to play it cool, but the moment you show any sign of returning his feelings, he’s ready with a full slideshow called “why we should date immediately (with charts).” 

your obliviousness is his villain origin story. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[monarchberrysblog]

❈ — 𝒜𝓃 𝐸𝓍𝓉𝓇𝒶 𝒟𝑜𝓈𝑒 𝑜𝒻 𝐿𝑜𝓋𝑒

FUTURE CHAPTERS WILL BE POSTED ON AO3

pairing — Miguel O’Hara x fem! Reader

primary diagnosis — When Joseph Rodriguez gets a full-time position in his internship, he asks his best friend, Miguel O’Hara, to babysit his baby sister. After insisting on paying him back the favor and being under the impression that he would care for a toddler, he agrees. But the moment he sees you, a twenty-two burnt-out college student, he begs Joseph to take his word back, but the damage has been done. He’s now stuck with you.

side effects — smut (lmao), thigh fucking, no p-in-v contact, groping, dom/sub dynamic (miguel is a bit of a confident sub and reader is a confused dom)

doctor’s note — hi everyone… I have been gone for a moment. I had to disappear for a moment as life got a little too serious school wise but everything is okay now! this is a series that I have been working on for a while. but here y’all go! I am excited for Beyond the Spiderverse to come back in a few years. Other than that, enjoy a sneak peek of this long fic I’ve been working on.

🩺 not proofread! 🩺

The weight of the day drags him by the cajones—the voice of complaints follows him from the subway to his penthouse. The various tones and complaints fill his ego, repeating and replaying nonstop.

They were the voices of the past, cutting into his mind and thrashing him around nonstop—a turmoil of what should have been done and what could have been done. Instead, what was done was picked at his consciousness. The turmoil dragged him back home. The mere glances of bright neon lights paced past him, not enough to pull him away from the imposter within him. He didn't even realize it, but he was already at the entrance of his home, ready to be enveloped away from the harsh sights and realities.

The silence is welcoming, lulling his body to rest, to shrug off the weight of his shoulders. He steps in, seeing a mere light on in his bedroom. A heavy exhale escapes, already knowing what awaits him in his bed.

You.

Kicking off his sneakers and slowly stripping off his scrubs, he leaves the filthy scrubs behind in the hallway, not bothering to put them in their proper place. He drags his feet into his room and immediately crashes onto the soft mattress and weighted blankets, barely shaking you awake from your deep slumber. The smell of sterilization clung to him, but he couldn't care less. He was back in bed, with you on your designated side.

“Sorry, I got home late. I had a meeting with the other residents.” His hand rubs the flare of your hip lovingly, his thumb tracing small designs against the undershirt you slept in. “I’ll have tomorrow off…” He whispers, rubbing your hip and letting go afterward. Your body tossed and turned from the contact, the undershirt shifting against your body and the mattress you rested in.

Black lacy thongs. They were right in front of him, the bands clinging onto your waist—the whale tail emphasizing the heart shape of your rear. He shouldn't have, but the sight was right before him, like appetizers on a platter, waiting to be eaten. In this situation, it was waiting for him to touch, caress, and grab his attention. It suffocated him like a vice. He bites his tongue, feeling his needy behavior sink into his skin, pulling him closer. He tosses the blanket over you instead.

He groans into pillow, the sound vibrating towards you. “What?” You groan, shifting your body to face him instead of the wall. “You sound like a lawnmower.”

He fights back a smile against the fabric of his pillow and turns to face you instead. You weren’t asleep. “The way you’re laying on this bed is criminal. You look like roadkill.”

“Don’t knock it until you try it.”

You roll your eyes and embrace the pillow close to your chest. “The way I sleep is human, the way you do it, it’s criminal.”

“Have you worked twelve hours on your feet while on call during your lunch break?” You open your mouth but shut your mouth as fast instead. “That’s what I thought, bug.”

You feign a smile and place a gentle hand on the back of his neck, massaging the tender muscle.

“Bet you saved so many lives today.”

He fights back his smile but fails. “Not really, just had to do my usual rounds.”

“Still saving.” You bite back and allow your hand to travel down south, the tips of your fingers tracing the taut, tense muscle and indents against his body.

He face plants onto the pillow, showing no protest to the gentle traces and pokes. You scoot closer, making it a task now to proximate yourself to his body warmth. Sterilization burns your nose but the warmth from his body trumped any concern. You inch closer and push down on his muscle, raking the pads of your fingers down his back, stopping at the band of his boxers. “Bug, don’t start.” He mumbles with his eyes closed.

“I’m not starting shit. I’m ending your night.”

His hand gently grasps the column of your throat, guiding you to his lips. The soft contact is suffocating, his lips taking your words away with every kiss, ending it with a long one, his hand letting your throat go, his hand now tangling into your hair. “You’re starting shit and you’re going to end it.” He whispers his words against your lips, bulleting his point. He lays flat on his back slowly, pulling you onto him with ease. “End it, then. End my night.”

It was a foreign feeling of straddling down on him, your lacy underwear and his boxers being the only barrier from his skin. “Go on.” He pats your thigh gently, seeing the bewildered expression across your face. “Fine.” You huff, easing yourself off of that area and onto his thigh instead.

He peeks up as you slowly ease yourself down onto his thigh, the gusset of your underwear barely hiding anything. For once, you found yourself facing a challenge, unsure of your next move. He gently bounces you on his thigh, gaining your momentum against his thigh. The gently, yet rocky momentum made your hands fly onto his abdomen, anchoring onto him for support. “Go on.” He whispers, his hand moving from your thigh to your hips, gently easing your movements against his skin, the gusset of your underwear pushing away and exposing you more. “C’mon,” He whispers, his eyes seeing you settle down, gently rocking your hips, rubbing your sticky mess onto his skin, leaving a glistening patch behind before getting dragged across his skin. “You’re doing so well, there you go…” He whispers, his grip loosening.

“Go on, end it.”

[cozycryptidcorner]

Part 2, NSFW

I do not like reading my old work, so you will be going in blind.

You yawn, mouth agape and shaking as your body takes in as much air as it can.

There’s  a dewy scent in the air, a thick layer of mist churning outside of your  cabin, swallowing the grass like an amorphous beast. As you sit up,  rubbing your eyes, you take a habitual glance at Sky, who, for all  intents and purposes, successfully pretends to be asleep. For the first  couple of days, you allowed him to relax through dawn to help his  recovery, but with most of his wounds healing and no sign of infection,  you make sure he’s up and at ’em the moment you are.

Carefully, you reach over and aggressively flick the tip of his ear.

He shifts but doesn’t open his eyes.

Letting  out a huff of air, you repeat the motion, leaning on his shoulder for a  better vantage point. He sleeps facing the wall, arms tucked beneath  his chin, hair in a tangled mess beneath his pillow, very careful not to  accidentally poke at your body during the night. And you appreciate  that, mostly, though with the chillier nights, you find yourself  pressing the arch of your spine into his back. He’s like a heating pad,  warm beneath the covers, and you sometimes let yourself think about how  you’d rather he close his arms around your body.

“Hey,” you demand  his attention, knowing full well he’s just faking a deep slumber in the  hopes to be disregarded for the morning, “come. You need to go fetch  water.”

His eyes squeeze tighter.

“Oh, don’t give me that,” you say, lifting your leg up and draping it over his hip, so you have more reach. “Wake up.”

You flick his ear again, and his nose scrunches up in response.

“Stop faking,” you nag, tapping your index finger on his forehead.

After a few more minutes of what you’re certain is infernal demands, he shifts. Unfortunately, that knocks the  single-leg you’ve placed all your weight on off its careful equilibrium,  and you wobble forward. Without thinking about it, you place a hand on  the pillow, lurching just forward enough to be… a hair’s width away from  his mouth. His mouth, near your mouth. And he’s wide awake, startlingly  bright eyes open.

It takes only a moment of asinine blinking for  you to realize what just happened, and now you’re backpedaling, mumbling  apologies, face hot and burning with embarrassment. Without turning  around to look at him, you throw a shawl over your shoulders and march  outside, opening the door for Kip to follow.

The sun hits your  face like a gentle caress, spring already bleeding into summer. A breeze  still carries the night air from the crevices and cracks of the earth,  washing a cool flood of air over the fields. As you walk over to the  chicken coop, you try to bite down your cheeks and urge some  inappropriate thoughts out of your mind.

You don’t know why you  feel so embarrassed. The closeness? The feeling of his skin on yours? An  accident. It was all an accident, and you didn’t mean to do it. At all.  Why did you even apologize? If anything, he should be the one who at  least gestures some apologies; it’s his fault for knocking you off  balance. There’s an unfamiliar tightness in your stomach, one that  whispers about something inevitable coming.

Speck, Dodo, and  Priscilla all cackle with impatience as you scoop out their feed  absentmindedly, still picturing how near his mouth hovered near yours.  Why are you even overthinking this? There’s nothing to ponder further  about. This is fine. You’re okay.

As you continue with the  morning’s chores, you come to the conclusion that this is all just a  culmination of being trapped in your tiny cabin with another person.  Awkward things are always bound to happen, no matter who you share a bed  with. Inevitable, even, which is why the nuns see this strange  agreement unseemly. Careless slipups and accidents. In fact, he probably  doesn’t even remember the incident.

When you start breakfast, you notice the skin around his eyes is as red as his hair.

No matter, no matter. He’s probably worried about something else, or maybe he… got too much sun from getting water.

You  yawn, slicing yesterday’s loaf for toast. Unfortunately, there is a  problem with privacy. Usually, when you felt this weird tightness in  your stomach, you would hide beneath your covers and touch that place  between your legs until your muscles spasmed and relief came. Now… you  can’t. Or you suppose that you could, technically, but something about  the action is remarkably private.

You wonder if he does the same.  You already grasp the difference between the sexes and know that he  carries something distinctive, but surely the urge still resides beneath  his skin. Does he think about you wh-

A hot, pinching pain  scratches down your finger, and you just barely stop the knife before  you sink the blade before it hits bone. Keeping yourself from crying  out, you pull the knife from the skin and place it to the side, watching  the blood ooze out almost in shock.

He’s by your side, holding your finger in his hand, eyes glazed over with concern. Throat dry, you try to explain that you’re fine, that everything is fine, but the sharp stinging of the wound makes your chest freeze. You’re  afraid anything that comes out of your mouth will be a pathetic whimper,  so you say nothing.

Careful, he brings your hand up to his face,  taking the injury into his mouth before you have a chance to react. You  can feel his tongue brush against the wound, eyes almost hooded, looking  at you for some kind of direction. You offer none, face becoming hot as  he licks your blood away. Despite the quickly fading pain, something in  your stomach jumps when he looks up at you, finger in his mouth.

He  opens his mouth, pulling your hand away from his face when you don’t  move. A trail of spit attached itself to your fingernail, another twist  plaguing your chest and stomach. You barely notice the fact the cut has  healed, nary a mark left in your flesh.

“Thanks,” you croak out, forgetting the dangers of thanking his kind so blatantly.

His  own face has taken to look like his hair, red blooming in his cheeks,  eyes downcast. He nods once, then takes a step back to the table.

As  difficult as it is to continue on normal, you force yourself to  continue preparing breakfast. What would you do otherwise? Ask him to  suck on your fingers again? Absolutely not, finish cutting the bread and  act like nothing happened. It’s probably normal, if he healed you by  doing it, he’s probably done it before to other people.

You dance  around the topic, trying to strategize when a good time would be to bury  your fingers between your thighs and regain some fucking peace.

“Can  you walk to the neighbor’s to deliver some of these potatoes?” You ask,  gesturing to the small basket to the side. You are ready to risk him  being seen by others if only you can guarantee an hour or so on your  own. “You don’t have to, though, if you don’t wish to.”

He looks at the basket, then pops an eyebrow up.

“What-  oh,” you remembered that he doesn’t know the directions. “Right. I  suppose I can walk with you this time so you know the way. If that’s  alright with you.”

He nods, once, face a puzzling shade of pink.  His eyebrows scrunch up, lips pursed as though trying to figure  something out. You are acting somewhat awkward, you suppose he must  wonder what you’re up to. Fuck.

Making sure Kip knows to stay and  watch the house, you leave. Sometimes you chatter when you work, Sky is  an avid listener if nothing else. Sky will nod his head and shrug his  shoulders in response to your one-sided conversations, but today you  focus only on survival. Put one foot in front of the other, walk, walk,  walk, and hopefully, your body will forget about the fucking broiling  need in your lower stomach.

Focus, you think, looking up at  the cloudy sky. Smell the dewy humidity in the air, note every single  color your eyes can see in the landscape. Categorize everything, make a  mental list, and for God’s sake, stop thinking about the last time you  saw him naked. You bury your face in your hands, pinching the bridge of  your nose, moving your feet without bothering to look where you go.

Sky saves you from stumbling into a fallen tree, grasping your arm just as your foot hooks beneath a heavy branch.

“Oh,” you say numbly, brushing your skirt off when you pull yourself away.

He frowns, but you don’t try to justify the near-miss.

Your  neighbors know about him as a concept, though they’ve never met him  before. Part of the decision was for his protection, you make sure to  pull his hair over his ears just before you see their cabin. Given fear  of the fair folk, no one will outwardly try to harm him, but the stigma  could grow out of your control if you don’t take steps to protect him.  Suppose this will be a test.

He’s remarkably beautiful, that’s for  certain. Your neighbors, an elderly couple who can’t tend to their  garden as they used to, could not stop fawning over him and his  waist-length red hair. The two of you get invited for tea, the old women  enjoying the company. You pull weeds from the garden while Sky eats one  of the honeycakes they set out, nodding and shaking his head to a  barrage of questions.

Your eyes meet his, fingernails caked in  dirt, sweat soaking through the back of your dress. You look away  quickly, face heating up. The old women chuckle to themselves, which  only makes you more self-conscious about your existence.

When you  walk back, you hold your arms tightly around your chest and try to shoot  through the landscape again. The fields are looking rather yellow  today, Autumn is making a headway through the countryside.

Sky stops you once you almost impale yourself on the same exact tree again.

He looks befuddled, hand still on your arm. His lips purse, slowly, eyes looking over your appearance in search of something, and the sudden attention causes your face to grow hot. You’re suddenly  very uncomfortable, not because he’s scaring you, but because everything  is becoming too heated for you to handle.

Not quickly, as though  you are a startled deer, he pulls your hand forward, up to his chest,  and presses your palm up against where his heart might be.

“What are you doing?” You ask, feeling uneasy.

He  shakes his head, pressing both his hands over yours. His fingers are  long and slender, just as freckled and delicate as the rest of his body.  Through the stiff clothing, you can feel his pulse bump slowly through  his ribcage. The fervor in his eyes tell you he’s desperately trying to  communicate something, but you don’t know what. The easiest answer- impossible.

Sky  is lithe and graceful, beauty incarnate, always so far away from your  grasp that you don’t allow yourself to think about what might happen if  you asked him to relieve you of this tight, thickening coil in your  stomach. You’ve awoken from dreams where his fingers are touching you in  all the right places, body alit with a roaring fire, embarrassment  tightening your face.

But he’s moving forward, slowly, as though  giving you time to run if you want. You could break away from him,  leave, run and hide beneath your covers and never face him again. If you  want, but you don’t.

His mouth is just as soft as you imagined,  lips moving with gentle need, his hands awkwardly held away from his and  your body, as though he doesn’t know what to do with them. The kiss is  remarkably quick, not a simple peck, but still something that leaves a  fire of desire roaring in your lungs and throat.

“Oh,” you say, unsure of how one might properly react to being kissed.

Sky  blinks, long lashes sweeping down his cheeks, and his nose twitches.  You realize that he might have misread the subtext of your oh, because it wasn’t a bad oh, it was a thoughtful one. You bring your hand up to trace the side  of his face, trying to think of what someone with a little more kissing  experience might react.

“Thank you,” you say softly, wishing to throw yourself off the nearest cliff. Thank you? Thank you. What an absolutely stupid response.

There’s a pause, his eyes shifting from your face to his hands, which are twisting and picking at each other.

You  grasp the front of his shirt, and moving carefully so you don’t make a  fool of yourself, you kiss him. His body relaxes beneath your touch, you  didn’t realize he was so tense until you feel his muscles when you  press into him.

He threads his fingers through your skirts,  pulling you closer, breaking the kiss off. And he smiles, soft, gentle,  pressing his forehead against yours. The moment lingers, sun and stars  standing still for you and Sky’s own private eternity. He takes your  hands again, pressing them to his heart, and intensity in his eyes so  desperate you know what he wants to tell you.

You share a few more chaste kisses before remembering you have to start dinner.

This  thing with Sky- this is new to you. Men and women have looked at you  before, yes, but the desire was few and far inbetween. Something about  his consistent presence changed your feelings, the need for him to touch  you barely familiar to any other relationship you’ve had.

He  kisses your neck when you cut the vegetables, soft, gentle kisses that  rake you over hot coals. You want to melt into a puddle even before you  finish putting the soup on the fire, and even though he helps with the  cleaning, he still does it in a way- you can’t even formulate the words.

Once  dinner is cooking and the kitchen is tidied, you cross your arms and  try to find another thing to do. More cleaning? Maybe. There’s an odd  finality to your actions, you don’t know what to do with yourself  anymore.

Sky seems amused by your hesitation.

Carefully,  tenderly, touches light enough for you to shy away from if you need to,  he takes your hand, then pulls you over towards your bed. Your face  heats up, knowing what he asks, trying to find the words to respond.  Fingers threaded together, mouth pressing against your cheek, all you  can think to say is a whimpering, “please.”

Kip paws at the door, insistent to be let in. You ignore her.

He  sits against the bed, pulling you on top of him, your legs straddling  his waist as though riding a horse bareback. Again, you kiss, pressing  your mouth down against his now that you have the upper hand. Your  skirts tangle and press into your skin, a thick desperation now even  more unbearable. Sky takes a break from the kissing to undo the lace of  your bodice, pulling and tugging the string free.

Any  embarrassment you might feel from your bare body fades when he kisses  and nips at your breast. You suck in your breath, arching your back into  him, wishing with no words for him to continue.

He hikes your  skirts up around your waist, the layers of fabric bunching up. Already,  there’s a hint of hardness in his pants, one that you know you want.  That you need. You’ve seen animals fuck plenty, so you know the bare  mechanics of the deed. Know from the hushed talk of wives how good it  can feel.

Sky balances his actions between tender and brutal. His  fingers are tight enough around your undergarments that you feel his  pulse through the fabric and skin. His tongue snakes out and licks a  mark he sucked into your chest. The male is everywhere at once, and  unleashed tempest, mouth clacking against your lips in a desperate, hazy  kiss. Worship, you think, is the right word for what he does to you.  Blasphemous, maybe, but accurate.

He moans when you nip at his  ear, your breath warm against his skin. Keens when you mimic his more  experienced actions on his own body, gasping when you nip lightly  instead of kiss. You feel his own need straining his thrifted pants,  throbbing and delectable against your core. Already, you pull away, just  to tug your garments off. Sky helps, eagerly, fingers pulling at straps  and laces.

You’ve seen him completely naked, vulnerable, eyes  glazed over with a pain that silences him even to this day. A kind of  naked where he was bare to the elements, left for dead, so you do not  mind him seeing you. In fact, you want him to look at you like he  does now, hungry, eyes dark, but with a kind of soft adoration that  brings your pulse up to a loud staccato.

He reaches over, you  guide his hand up to a bare breast, his palm pressed into a prominent  nipple. You straddle him once more, and the way he looks at you- the way  he touches you- like you are a relic, a holy thing, something to  revere. His breath comes out almost in a wheeze, the most noise he has  ever made with his voice, face blossoming with red, fingers hot and  desperate.

You claw at his shirt, face burning with something  other than embarrassment. He helps, though the both of you give up on  the pants after you manage to get his cock out.

Cock. Funny word, one that you’ve only said in joking circumstances.

But  as you straddle him again, on your knees so he can guide you down, you  don’t think you can ever think of it again without this memory swimming  behind your eyes.

He’s gentle, at first. Guides you down so you  sit atop him, having you move slow so you are used to his girth. And, to  be fair to your body, you have done some unsavory things with the  handle of a stirring spoon before, so this isn’t your first...  penetration. But it’s been awhile, and he is attentive to the need for  adjustment.

You sink down, all the way, feeling your arousal pool  against his pelvis, all around his throbbing erection. Embarrassed,  trying to ground yourself, you bury your face in the crook of his neck  and shudder, tendrils of pleasure running down your spine and through  the rest of your body like a lightning strike. And when he moves?

God  in heaven. Lucifer in hell. You let out a pathetic whimper, still  clinging to him like a drowning sailor clings to wreckage. Desperate,  clawing, ready to weather the storm on the horizon. He wraps his hands  around your waist and gently shifts, forwards, backwards, as though  testing how well you take it.

“More,” you beg, eyes blurry.

Sky  obeys, thrusting now, gently, gradually. The tension in your stomach is  slow to build, but he is a creature of eternal patience. He meets your  needs with ease, rocking back and forth, holding you close as he can  without crushing the air from your lungs. The noises he makes are gutteral, animalistic, deliciously desperate. He gazes at you, eyes pleading, mouth moving.

You  lose yourself, finding this to be so much easier than you thought. You  suppose you didn’t think that a roll in the bed would be this simple;  two people, needy, yearning, falling into each other as naturally as  breathing.

He rubs the nub just in front of your slit, finding it without much direction, and you are lost.

You feel him follow suit, a thick, hot sensation filling your body.

Even  after, he holds you close, wetting a rag and helping you clean up the  mess of love. Everything is tender, sore, and he kneels between your  legs to wipe away his pale mess.

Dinner is ready. You let Kip in and serve the soup in wooden bowls.

this is a draft i found from 2021. it used to be on patreon? there’s a second part somewhere, anyways enjoy.

Sky the Fae/Reader

You find him naked, laying on the dew-wet grass.

The sheep are what alert you to his presence, some uttering nervous whines as you and your dog bring them down from the mountain. Kip manages to control the woolly formation while you investigate, knowing full well that it could be something as mundane as an old wine bottle shining strangely in the sunlight. But no, it’s something… far more curious than that.

Keep reading

[thbbie]

༄ true form sukuna x f!reader

you're coming down from it all. the hours and hours you had been subject of pleasurable torture. he teased and edged and stretched and stimulated you as though you weren't going to feel it.

watching your expression as you experience each one, each drag of his cocks against your walls, each lick of his tongues on your body, every tight circle to your clit. sukuna didn't miss a moment, his eyes trained on you the whole time — until the curse decided you've had enough; for now, and released you from his tight hold. letting your spamming body flop against him.

you're too tired too drained to even bother worrying if that would upset him, if it would set him off. he'd killed people for much less than that in the past. and he cannot help but admire that, not quite thing you think of when you hear courage but it's close enough.

sukuna is not yet used to have to treat something so tenderly. his grip on you never tightens enough for him to consider it tight — he might pop you like a balloon; so instead his touch is feather light. just grazing the surface of you. it can be frustrating and requires patience he does not afford to anyone but it remains a meaningful change.

one that promises he gets to keep you by his side longer.

only one pair of hands is touching you now, the other resting at his side. you're already so sensitive, the unnecessary touch would only make it worse, make it uncomfortable. when did he get so considerate?

sukuna shushes your cries as soft as he could manage, it's strange but he doesn't let him limit him. the low deep sound of his voice is being stored somewhere safe in the back of your brain.

he drappes you in one of his robes, carefully moving your body to slip the large silken fabric on before he carries you in his harms himself to drover you to the baths. but sukuna doesn't leave you in the care of the maid or the servants, he washes you himself. only his rough hardened hands know the delicacy you need to be handled with, now especially.

ordering everyone out the room, sukuna wipes your bare body clean. clean of yourself, of himself, of sweat, of tears, evething. the net wash cloth running over your skin, cooling the heated skin there. oh it's so nice.

he holds you close you him when you're back on his chambers, hair damp and skin still dewy. tou feels relaxed but the exhaustion only feels more important.

sukuna keeps you in his lap, your head resting against his bare chest. es found that you like when he presses kisses to the side of your head, and do he does. pressing warm gentle kisses to you temple, your hair, your forehead. his other hand is resting against your tummy.

sukunas calloused hands, one that has crushed skulls between his bare hands, cradles your soft belly, rubbing circles on it with warm palm to sooth your body.

strangely , his movements feel unfamiliar but they come to him naturally s of by nature.

sukuna holds you like that for however long you may need, feeding you freshly cut fruit by hand, rocking you slightly and rubbing his warm hands over you until your trembling halts, and you fall asleep in his arm. with your skin clean, stomach full and your mind blissfully satiated

he thinks to himself how brave you are for allowing yourself to rest so peacefully in the arms of a beast. he watches you, tranquil and serene, as he's shifting you under the covers of his own bed. laying you on you back so he doesn't miss the soft smile playing at your slumbering face.

sukuna is at peace when he sees you like this. the feeling of your comfortable sleep contagious. he watches for as long as he can, committing you his archive of a mind; you won't live forever, not nearly as long as he will, so at the moment all he could do was cherish you like you would.

[geeeemmmmmmm]

Talking in your sleep

A/N:Okay this was a very fun fic to write and hopefully I have improved since my last fic. So as always sorry for any mistakes and enjoy!

Summary:Title basically sums it up

WC:726(short n sweet)

Gentle mumbling started to fill your room. Bucky's arm wrapped around your waist suddenly tightened the moment you could feel his soft breaths against your neck. It was incoherent when it stirred you awake but as you tried to turn your head just slightly to try catch a glimpse of him through the darkness, he mumbled something in Russian. You froze in place - you'd eased him through nightmares but never when he spoke Russian which usually indicated the winter soldier was out to play. He winced in sleep and pulled you back further into his chest, keeping his metal arm wrapped securely around your waist; his flesh arm stretched out under your head acting like a pillow, a muscly pillow at that. 

This nightmare or dream, your boyfriend was having with you cuddled up in his arms was one in the grey zone. Especially for only dating for a couple months. "Baby?" you questioned into the darkness after a couple minutes of trying to figure out what to do, still relishing how oddly protected you felt as his grip loosened as he kept mumbling, some parts Russian some parts barely coherent words. Your question was met with silence and you just sighed and fell back into slumber.

"Don't take her" Bucky's voice filled the room again yet this sentence brimmed with hostility directed to the shadows in his mind or your room who knows. In the blink of an eye Bucky had tugged you on top of his chest, it would look abnormal to see the position you and Bucky were in. Bucky laid on his back, shifting his arms to wrap around your stomach like you are about to fall off into something with your back still firmly pressed against his chest, all while he managed to nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck - a habit of his you have grown fond of and evidently his subconscious has too. Just slightly you angled your head to gain a look of the alarm clock shining on your bedside table. It had been a couple hours since he started to mumble but too early to wake you both up. 

"Sitting on a cornflake.." his voice slightly more clear as he huffed out a breath on your neck. It took everything in you not to laugh at the nonsense he was saying. Gently you freed one of your arms and moved it to cup your boyfriend's face. His movements stilled with your touch, you could just barely see him cracking open his bright blue eyes through the darkness of your room. "Hey.. you alright? What time is it?" He asked gently - his voice thick from sleep but regardless it tugged your heartstrings. "Nothing just heard you dreaming, I wanted to make sure you were okay" you whispered back, letting a small laugh out from his remarks made in slumber. He just mumbled something against your neck in between kisses along your jawline, making you laugh even more. 

"Would be nice to sit on a cornflake though," you whispered, moving your head more to meet his eyes. His expression seemed confused but quickly his mind caught up "It was actually" he said simply, but even you could hear the smirk hiding behind his tone. "Oh is it now?' you huffed out while manoeuvring to be tucked into his side again. "Go back to sleep m'tired" his voice returning back into a deep sleepy voice again. You couldn't tell if he was faking his tone or it was genuine but who are you to say no to going to sleep in your boyfriend's arms for a couple extra hours. "I'll record you next time" you whispered letting your tone waver between seriousness and being satire. "Like hell you will" Bucky huffed out a light chuckle before wrapping his arms around you, keeping you in a comfortable "cage" in his arms. Carefully you arched your neck up to kiss his cheek before nuzzling into his side, letting your arms wrap around his neck and onto his chest. Running your fingers along his chest to make random patterns, an action of yours you knew Bucky loved. Before you knew it, sleep had enticed you back. You both spent the rest of the early morning hours tangled in each other's limbs, letting soft breaths from slumber fill the room once again.

A/N:I did miss writing for you guys, seeing thunderbolts a couple days ago helped motivate me more lol

[larissa-the-scribe]

Lenesse?

I was smol and wanted to be a cool fantasy action heroine. So I started making up stories where a very thinly veiled self-insert was a main character (featuring equally thinly veiled inserts of some of my friends) in a portal fantasy.

Then I grew up, and she kinda... grew up with me. I've had other more self-inserty characters that were too thin so they just disappeared, but Lenesse and her cohorts had become too separate and realized, so they stuck around. The story also stopped being a portal fantasy, because it made less and less sense that they weren't from Kaslay.

Thanks for the ask!

[reunitedinterlude]

kind & lovely

[artheresy]

Oh my GOD, stayed up all night it's currently 6 am for me, to reread the entirety of Castle Swimmer because I saw it was coming back today (or I guess technically yesterday) AND I FEEL INSANE

I love when old interests come back to me, I feel like I need to scream over Kappa and Siren so badly

I have so many thoughts in my head, if anything happens to either one of them, I am leaving this world. If anything bad happens to Neth or Mucku or GOD MONO AND GALOO??? You will once again be gone from this earth /j

The thoughts I have are immense, I want to cry so badly SO BADLY Seeing Kappa's backstory with the healer and his scales, put me in physical pain, I never got there originally when I read it a while ago so seeing it now? Devastated me, I wasn't prepared

Also, the whales? Make me very curious? I'm just thinking about the way they work and their slumber works and I'm just... a hhhh... and while I don't think this will end up applying to him, imagining what the implications could have for Kappa is making my head hurt thinking about it

[hayatoseyepatch]

Ｄｅｓｃｒｉｐｔｉｏｎ: Assigning positions I think the Love & Deepspace men would fuck you in. With twitter links! Mostly Inspired by Juno — Sabrina Carpenter.

Ｃｈａｒａｃｔｅｒｓ: Zayne|Rafayel|Xavier|Caleb|Sylus

Ｗｏｒｄ Ｃｏｕｎｔ: 3.5 k

Ｃｏｎｔａｉｎｓ: Multiple Characters x Fem!Reader

Ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ Ｗａｒｎｉｎｇｓ: NSFW visuals (videos) in the links, penetrative sex (duh), unprotected sex, praise, degradation, mentions of breeding, use of pet names, manhandling, somnophilia (Xavier’s), cock warming (Rafayel’s), spanking, choking, marking, semi-public sex (Zayne’s).

Ａｕｔｈｏｒ’ｓ Ｎｏｔｅ: Happy New Year everyone! (੭ˊᵕˋ)੭♡ I feel like it has been an absolute MINUTE since I’ve written anything, and even longer since I’ve done headcannons. But with this most recent quad I’m feeling inspired. My writer's block has been absolutely insane someone please save me. I’ve never done this type of post just wanted to test the waters with something different. We also have so little on Caleb so his may not stand the test of time, but we shall see LMAO. Let me know what you think and I hope you enjoy! (ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ.ﾟ

Ｘａｖｉｅｒ － Ｓｐｏｏｎｉｎｇ

Xavier wasn’t sure how he slept at night before having you in his arms again. Rousing from sleep he couldn’t help but smile into the back of your neck, nose burying itself in the hair that rested at the base of your neck, taking a deep inhale of your scent. He never knew a smell could make him feel so at ease, but also stir up such heat in the pit of his stomach. His hands wandered your sleeping from, seeking out the warmth radiating from your skin. Nimble fingers slipping beneath the them of your sleep shirt, mind fuzzy and still glazed over with sleep. He was acting purely on instinct, and by the way you subtly arched your back into his touch as a large hand slipped beneath the swell of your breast — you were too.

The plush of your skin was so malleable beneath his fingers, thumb swiping the stiff peak of your hardened nipple as his lips kiss a trail up and down the side your neck. Swallowing a groan when his hips roll into the swell of your ass, not wanting to rouse you from your slumber just yet. His tongue slips past his lips to lick a fat stripe up the side of your neck before attaching his lips to the juncture where your shoulder met your neck. Desperation growing, the kiss was a mess of teeth and tongue, marking your skin as his hips continued to grind against you from behind. Xavier was so lost in the feel of you he nearly missed the groan that slipped from your lips and the way you began to grind back against him. Almost. Moving his lips to press against your ear, his voice is breathy and laced with yearning.

“Please bunny, need to be inside you, cant take it anymore.”

You were too groggy, still half asleep, so all you're able to muster is rolling your hips back on his own as your sign of approval. And that was all Xavier needed. Deft fingers pull your panties to the side, quick to also push down the waistband of his sleep pants, freeing his throbbing cock from their confines. He grips the base of himself with a shaky hand, using the head of his cock to part your folds. He allows himself a moment to swipe himself up your slit, collecting your wetness to use as lube. The head of his cock brushing your clit with every pass. Before long you finally felt the glorious stretch of him pushing past your entrance, sinking slowly inch by inch into your awaiting cunt. The both of you let out sighs of matched contentment as you take him to the base.

Xavier stays there for a moment, relishing the feel of your warmth engulfing him. However, his patience has its limits, and this yarning for you wins out as he begins to move. Xavier sets a steady pace from the start, using his grip on your breast and another on your hip as leverage to guide his thrusts, deep and shallow as his mouth continues it’s attention to the sensitive skin of your neck. Rocking his hips, angling them to hit that spot nestled deep inside you that has your vision blurring more with every pass. You knew neither of you would last long, not like this.

It seemed as if Xavier slept so much to simply replenish the energy needed to fuck you more. It was rare for you both to have a day off, and he didn’t intend on letting you leave this bed anytime soon. Not when your voice, airy and rasp from sleep, called his name so sweetly. Not when he could feel your walls spasming around him in an attempt to milk his cock for all he was worth. And especially not when you abruptly turn your head, lips slotting over his own in a desperate kiss, forcing him to swallow your moans as you came around his cock for the first of many times that day.

Ｚａｙｎｅ － Ｄｏｇｇｙ Ｓｔｙｌｅ

Zayne liked to consider himself a patient man, not one to lose his cool or one to give in when that patience is tested. But he is also a man, and everyone has their limits. Those limits being you coming into his place of work for your checkup lacking panties. He was suspicious from the moment you came in, wearing that smile that always alerted him to you being up to something. The small upward turn of your lips and poorly concealed anticipation lighting your features. He knew you better than anyone and always knew even the slightest change in you behavior. So as you sat on the examination table, he scrutinized you.

“What’s the matter? Is something wrong, doctor?”

That was his second inclination, the way you purred his profession title, as if the both of you did not share the same bed at night. With a lifted eyebrow he sanitizes his hands before sliding his gloves over deft fingers, scrutinizing eyes overlooking your frame. Taking this opportunity, you cross one leg over the under, the short length of your skirt revealing just whet you weren’t wearing underneath. Today had been a long day for Zayne, several surgeries and a booked schedule causing hm to miss his lunch. Hoping to get some reprieve with your presence he supposes at least it was thoughtful of you to bring him that lunch he missed out on.

 He wasted no time in locking the door to the examination room, coming to you in long strides before dropping to his knees. Strong, gloved, hands parting your thighs as he delves into your folds like a man starved. Zayne was usually a patient lover, taking his time to savor every part of you, making sure you’ve been thoroughly satisfied before indulging in his own pleasure. That was not the case today, eating your cunt until it was dripping with a combination of your arousal and his saliva, he stands to his feet. Not so much as bothering to remove his lab coat as he undoes his buckle. You only get a momentary glance of his cock before the world shifts. Using his strength to easily flip you over on the examination table. Bunching your skirt past your hips to expose your ass to his hungry gaze. A latex covered hand comes down on your ass in a harsh smack, fingers grasping the plump skin of your ass, using his grip to expose your dripping cunt to him. He sinks himself to the hilt with one harsh thrust. Leaning over to press his lips against your ear.

“You want to act like a slut, darling? Then I’ll fuck you like a slut.”

Zayne sets a steady pace from the start, relishing in the sounds he not only pulls from your lips but from your cunt as well. Loud squelching and the sounds of skin slapping against skin echo against the walls of the room. His fingers curling against the column of your throat, feeling your racing pulse beneath his fingers, as he uses his grip to aid in bouncing you back on his cock. He could feel the way your walls were fluttering around him, knowing the cut to your airflow with his earlier actions were sending you spiraling toward your release. Effortlessly he slides his free hand beneath you, fingers rubbing tight circles against your clit. Feeling you tighten around him coupled with hearing the begs and pleas that spill from your lips is all the encouragement Zayne needed. His hips lose the steady pace he had set opting instead to slap harshly and erratically against your own, chasing his high.

The sheer pleasure running through his veins is nearly overwhelming, spilling inside you with a groan. He was sure his sheer volume would be enough to rival your own, however he couldn't find it within himself to care too lost in the way you were making him feel. His hips continually rolling against yours even after he has spilled every last drop he had to offer deep within your walls, before the overstimulation he was giving himself becomes painful. He pulls from you, resting back on his heels, using a thumb to part you folds as he hungrily watches your cunt contract around nothing, his come starting to drip from your abused pussy, letting out a groan at the sight.

“How sweet of you to bring me lunch, darling. Now lets get you home for some rest, doctor’s orders.”

Ｓｙｌｕｓ － Ｍａｔｉｎｇ Ｐｒｅｓｓ

Sylus hated being away from you, between your job and Onychinus the both of you hadn’t been afforded the opportunity of spending too much time together as of late. Your opposing sleep schedules only aided in your recent separation, you coming home to him still asleep and just coming home as you opened your eyes. It was driving him mad. Pent-up frustration had his temper short and his trigger finger happy. So after an insistence from Luke and Kieran to return to your shared home early for the day, he would make no complaints. He hammed as he entered the home, seeing you just getting ready to tuck into bed. Eyes taking in the sight of you in nothing but one of his shirts, he was on you in an instant. Eyes rolling back at your scent, mixing with his own on your skin. Only to have you laid bare split open on his cock as quickly as he would allow himself to.

His hips don't falter, he keeps up his speed. Though each snap of his hips hitting deeper with each pass, angling his hips just right to find that sensitive spot deep inside your walls, grinning maliciously when he does so. His grip stays firm on the backs of your thighs keeping them pressed to your chest to reach the deepest parts of you. Loving the way your eyes roll back as you struggle to form even a coherent sentence from the way he used your body. His chuckle is deep, cruel, against your neck as you struggle to get out the syllables of his name. Coming broken between thrusts of his hips.

“Awh my poor little kitten, she’s getting her cunt fucked so good she can't even finish my name. Poor thing, here let daddy take care of you sweetie.”

He grins, reattaching his lips to your neck. Tongue, teeth, and lips marking the sensitive skin. He removes one hand from your knee. Eyes flickering with unbridled lust when our grip replaces his own, keeping your leg pressed where it was before he cold even obey you to do so. The thumb of his free hand slotting itself between your lips, eyes rolling back when your tongue circles the digit. Popping it from your mouth he used the coated wetness as lubrication to rub tight circles on your clit. Hips picking up pace in time with the kneading. His lips leave your throat capturing a sensitive nipple into his mouth, sucking on it harshly, aiming to overstimulate all of your sensitive spots in tandem. A loud cry falls from your lips, your unoccupied hand flying to your lips in an attempt to muffle the sound, lest Luke and Kieran hear your cries for their boss within their rooms. Noticing the hand you attempt to use to cover your mouth he grabs your wrist pinning it to the mattress next to your ear with the hand that was just overstimulating your clit.

“Sorry sweetie, I want to hear every cry, curse and whimper that falls from those lips, let me hear you kitten.”

He wastes no time returning the pace he had set, loud squelching and your moans filling the room like the sweetest symphony. The coil had been tight in his abdomen, but he would hold out, he wouldn’t allow himself to fall over the edge before you had. He picks up the pace once more, thrusts growing sloppy under the pleasure. His thumb quickens its pace pressing harder against the bundle of nerves. He groans loud and deep feeling your walls slam down on his cock eyes rolling back as whines and whimpers fall from his lips as your own release triggers his own. His body trembles violently as he topples over the edge painting your walls white. He slows his thrusts, body shaking as he overstimulates you both just a little bit before his hips are finally still. He releases your legs, quick to readjust your form wrapping you around him and pressing a long loving kiss to your lips.

Ｒａｆａｙｅｌ － Ｃｏｗｇｉｒｌ

You weren’t sure how long you had been sat here, when your boyfriend had asked if you wanted to sit with him while he finished his painting, you hadn’t envisioned that you would be doing that sat on his lap with his cock nestled deep inside you. Cock warming with Rafayel never ended in just that, his pleading excuse of “It helps me concentrate, cutie, please?” had you falling for it every time. Every shift in his seat, every time he reached over to dip his brush in the paint on his pallet, sent his cock deeper inside your drooling cunt. You were sure he knew it too, felt the way that even plugged with his cock, your arousal still leaked around you both. That he felt it dripping down his skin. You could only hope this was nearly as torturous for him as it was for you. By the sweat forming on his brow, and the way his paintbrush trembled in his grasp, you were sure it was.

And you would be correct.

It wasn’t long until the painting was long forgotten, Rafayel’s lips consuming your own, as if on a mission to lose himself in the embrace. Skilled hands removed your dress with ease, the lingering paint on his skin, staining your own as you hastily removed his shirt. His eyes zeroed in on the colors adorning your skin, a tangible reminder of his touch, he places a hand on your back to steady you, reaching over to coat his hand in the paint that was on his easel. He grips your wrist as he rolls his hips up into your waiting cunt, lips attaching themselves to the delicate skin of your collarbone, kissing a trail up to the shell of your ear. His hot breaths against the sensitive skin has a shiver raking up your spine in his grasp.

“Go on cutie, put your hand in the paint, want you to make a masterpiece on my skin, my muse.”

Grabbing your wrist, he dips your hand in the paint, just as he had done. A desperate whine slips past your lips when he thrusts sharply upward, hands gripping his shoulders, nails sinking into his skin in their grip. Using your hold on him as leverage to keep bouncing on his cock, the paint marking him, the sight of it on his skin makes your head fuzzy. Seeing the remnants of you on him has you touching him more, smearing the paint on his skin. You continue your movements, bouncing on his cock in time with his upward thrusts. Head dipping downward to capture a pebbled nipple between his lips, tongue laving over the bud as the sound of skin against skin fills the studio.

Your thighs tremble from the burn of exertion of your repeated movements. Sensing you were coming to your end, Rafayel comes to your aid. Hands gripping the plush of your hips as he fucks up into you, heels digging into the bar at the bottom of his stool to ground himself as he meets each one of your thrusts with one of his own. He knew your body like the back of his hand, every tremble, every quiver of your cunt, every desperate sound that fell from your lips he could identify as you nearing your end. His mouth switches to pay attention to your opposite nub teeth and tongue giving it the same treatment in time with the push of his hips. Pulling from you with a 'pop' to grit his teeth, baring down to keep his composure before you were able to release before him. He lets you pull him close hips snapping relentlessly thrusts growing sloppy as he feels your walls clamp down on his cock in your release. It sends him hurtling to his own release hips slapping violently against your own as he paints your insides with a loud scream of your name. His thrusts slow making sure he had filled you with every drop he had to offer. Heart racing, as his arms wrap around you and he pulls your trembling form to his chest pressing tender kisses everywhere his lips could reach.

“Such a good girl for me, cutie. Look at you, I think this might just be the most beautiful piece of art I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

Ｃａｌｅｂ － Ｍｉｓｓｉｏｎａｒｙ

Caleb had always thought himself lucky to have spent so much time with you. He had the privilege of watching you grow, being by your side through so many monumental moments in your life. Birthdays, graduations, holidays — he got to spend every last one of them by your side. But the more you both grew older the more he realized you hadn’t seen him the way he had seen you, at least he hadn’t thought so. The way you had always treated him had felt so platonic, with no hope for you to ever see the way he had felt for you For him it was never platonic, being in love with you for longer than he could remember. And now, even as you both hastily pulled your lips from each other only long enough to rid each other’s clothes from your trembling bodies, he couldn’t believe you were finally his.

Caleb had dreamed of this for years. Having you like this, being able to touch you like this, seeing the way your face contorted in pleasure as you trembled beneath him. For once seeing him differently, not the sweet boy from your childhood, but as a man. Could only imagine the delicious way his name would sound not in the way he had always heard it but practically purred when laced with lust-fueled ecstasy. He was basking in it. The way you felt beneath his fingers as you trembled from his touch. Had fisted his cock on lonely nights to the mere thought of ever having you like this. Had spilled into his palm as he finished with your name on his lips.

But now he had you, and he had no plans on letting you go any time soon. He lets out a groan into your neck as he sinks into you, inch by agonizing inch until he was buried balls deep in your awaiting cunt. His eyes roll back at the way you greedily pull him in deeper, the fluttering walls of your cunt urging him to begin to move. He starts with deep shallow thrusts, wanting to savor the feeling of your welcoming walls after so many years of yearning. Needing to feel your deepest parts and enjoy every moment of being connected with you. However, he had his limits and the sweet way you cooed his name as you urged him on has him picking up the pace. His hips setting a steadfast pace, going deeper with each pass, gripping your hips as you call out his name.

He can't help it, the feeling of your velvety walls surrounding him, sucking him in for all he was worth, he throws his head back with another loud groan as he slowly withdraws his hips, pulling back until just the mushroom tip of his cock remains inside. With a perfect snap of his hips, aided by the sheer amount of wetness that had gathered to this point he enters back in with ease before picking up the pace again. His gaze returned to you, only to see how your arm was thrown over your face shielding you from him and muffling the sweet sounds spilling from your lips. Grabbing your wrist, he pins it firmly against the mattress beneath you, striking eyes boring into your own.

“Look at me, pipsqueak. I want you to keep your eyes on me.”

Caleb's voice came out gruff, desperate, as the pads of his fingers sank into the plush of your cheeks — forcing your gaze to remain locked on his own. The nickname you had heard your whole life now took on a different edge, sounding almost foreign to our ears.

“Need to see the look in your eyes as you lose yourself on my cock baby.”

Dividers, character banners, & writing by me. ૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა

Network tags: @pixelcafe-network @interstellar-inn

[cumtastiics]

tw ( yandere. nsft. somno )

g/n reader. or at least i tried

MDNI

"f-fuck-" he let out whimpers, his fingers digging into your waist, trying desperately to stay still, his cock buried deep in your hole.

he brushed away some strands on your face, kissing your forehead. oh... how beautiful you looked, exhausted.

your body remained motionless, deep in slumber, as he struggled to contain himself. he gazed down at you with a mixture of desire and twisted affection, relishing this stolen moment of intimacy.

"so beautiful," he whispered, his breath shaky. “all mine."

his hips twitched involuntarily, sending a jolt of pleasure through him. he bit his lip to stifle a moan, not wanting to wake you. this was his favorite way to possess you - while you slept, unaware and vulnerable. the wrongness of it only heightened his arousal.

he was so pathetic, but it was all for you.

“i-i’m gon- gonna cum…!” he cried out, his hips bucked forward as he reached his climax, spilling himself deep inside you.

you stirred slightly in your sleep, a soft moan escaping your lips. he froze, terrified of waking you, of shattering this perfect moment. but you merely shifted your position before settling back into peaceful slumber.

panting, he gazed down at your sleeping form with a mixture of adoration and possessiveness. how angelic you looked like this, totally at his mercy.

"my precious angel," he murmured. "i'll never let anyone else have you.

carefully, he eased himself out of you, mourning the loss of that exquisite warmth.

he didn't bother to clean you up, hugging you tightly and close to his chest, letting all of it slowly drip from your hole.

you'd be confused in the morning, but it's okay.

[pearlymel]

Absolute Zeal

Sum. It was finally your turn to take care of your boyfriend, until everything twists around and you both end up a mess.

Warnings. NSFW, smut, fem reader, whiney zayne yes, unprotected sex, rough sex kinda, fluff. 2.2k words.

Notes. my exams are not stopping me (yet) from releasing yet another feral zayne.

Your boyfriend was absolutely out of it.

It wasn't long before Zayne noticed the effects of the chocolate, a slow warmth coursing through his veins, a slight sluggishness creeping into his movements.

He grinned lazily at you as you helped him outside, a slight wobble to his step. You were struggling, sure. But you kept up the tough act.

The cool air outside seemed to help clear his head a bit, but he was still far from sober, "my hero," he said, his voice still slightly slurred, "taking me home in my... slightly tipsy state. You're too kind.”

“Mhm, careful as you get in.” you instruct and Zayne obliges as he stumbled into the taxi, slumping against the back seat, trying to steady himself.

His gaze remained fixed on you as you climbed into the taxi after him. His eyes roamed over your face, “thank you," he murmured, "for taking care of me tonight.”

A hand smoothens to his cheek, up to his hair to comb it with your fingers before you tilt your head to peck his cheek, your hand encouraging him to rest on your shoulder.

He closed his eyes, a contented sigh escaping him, feeling safe and cared for in your presence.

…

“wake up, honey.” you whisper into Zayne's ear to wake him up from his light slumber. His eyes blinking slowly to get back to his senses.

He leaned against you heavily, allowing you to guide him out of the taxi, a quiet murmur of thanks escaping him.

The taxi driver watched the whole interaction silently after you payed him. ah, the young. "I miss my wife." He sighed to himself before driving off.

Meanwhile, you were pitifully watching Zayne entering the wrong passcode to his own home.

His fingers fumbled against the keypad as he tried to input his passcode, his normally steady hands betraying his current inebriated state. He let out a frustrated grunt, his brows furrowing in concentration as he tried again.

"Just... need to get this thing right..."

"Let the person who actually remembers the passcode of your home to enter it." you successfully entered the passcode, the lock clicking open with a satisfying sound.

Zayne let himself be led onto the plush couch by you after taking off his coat for more movement, a deep sigh escaping him as though he were sinking into heaven itself.

He let his eyes close briefly, revelling in the comfort of the soft cushions. He cracked one eye open lazily, a soft chuckle escaping him as he watched you fuss over his coat, gently removing it and draping it on the back of a nearby chair.

And with a gentle tug, he pulled you down onto the couch with him, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close.

You frown, “i should go get the hangover medicine—”

But his arm tightened around your waist in protest, pulling you closer to him before you could move. "No need," he shook his head, his voice huskier now. "Stay with me," he whispered, his voice low, filled with a yearning that went beyond simple physical attraction.

"After i get the medicine, hm? You'll regret it later," though he seemed too insistent. You couldn't budge, even when he was drunk, his strength was impressive.

Zayne groaned softly, his grip on you unrelenting. He rested his head on your shoulder, his face nuzzling against your neck, "later,"

"how much more?" you ask, your fingers tracing his jawline to sort of soothe him.

He drew in a slow, steady breath, his body relaxing against you. "Just a moment more like this."

Zayne leaned into your touch, his head slightly tilting as though seeking more of your caress. His arm around your waist remained securely wrapped, holding you close, holding you like you were a precious treasure, something to be cherished.

You continue caressing his skin, moving down to his messed up buttons and tie, making him flutter his eyes shut.

Despite the alcohol, a part of him was still very much aware, very much receptive to your touch. The way you undressed him, unbuttoning his shirt to help him breathe better, felt like a gentle, loving caress.

This is no good. “On a second thought, I'll just shower," he said, attempting to smooth out his disheveled hair. "A shower will help clear my head.” Zayne stood up after taking his arms away from your body, a bit unsteady on his feet, but adamant to make it to the shower on his own. He staggered slightly, leaning against the nearest wall for support.

…

You head to Zayne's study room in the meantime to explore it a bit out of curiosity while the shower is running in the background. Your fingertips brushed over the snowman displayed on the desk neatly which makes your lips curve.

It was not long after until you hear him in the living room, opening his laptop to answer an urgent call. Listening to him speak a few words. Even in this state, Dr Zayne is working hard.

Once the call ends, you show yourself from your hiding spot, “Even Dr Zayne's showers are hurried.” you comment in amusement.

Zayne's lips quirked into a wry smile as he acknowledged your observation. "In my profession, efficiency is key," he replied, “but," he added, his tone softening slightly as he drew closer, "I can assure you, I wasn't rushing for anyone else but you." He reached out to tenderly cup your cheek, his touch gentle but firm.

“It seems that.. The shower did not clear your head.”

"I suppose," he murmured, "you're quite intoxicating even without the alcohol.”

Zayne's next sudden advance caught you by surprise.

The unexpected aggression of pulling your arm towards him made you gasp. But as his lips pressed hard against yours, a surprised sound escaping your lips before you clung to him tightly, your arms wrapping around his neck as you returned the kiss, matching his hunger with your own.

Your fingers tangled in his hair while his hands cupped your cheeks, pushing you back until you were stumbling against his desk where he caught you in time to prevent you from completely losing your balance.

His glasses steamed slightly with each gasping breath. He looked down at you once your lips part, his eyes darkening until your fingers nudged at his glasses which tipped them over slightly, yet Zayne impatiently brushed aside your hand's attempt to fix his glasses and instead took his glasses off in one swift motion.

Hot.

His lips sought yours once more, his kiss hungrier, more urgent than before as he pushed you back against his desk. The sound of books and papers scattering echoed and falling with a loud thud that you couldn't seem to care about for now.

His lips traced a path down your neck, his teeth grazing your skin there, and your chew slightly on your lower lip. His teeth nip along your collarbone, his tongue soothing the slight sting, then repeating the action again and again.

This won't do.

"… You're drunk," you bluntly state, trying to stand from the desk to walk towards the drawer, "I'm getting the hangover medicine—"

His hands darted out to grab your wrists, gently yet firmly, preventing you from moving any further, “please." His grip on your wrists remained steady, his thumbs stroking the insides of your wrists as he leaned against your chest as if you just rejected him.

“I never let myself touch alcohol,” he breathed heavily, and that's when you recognize the slight snowflakes surrounding you both.

“But for you, I broke that rule. Because of you, everything is spiraling out of control...”

…

Zayne kicked open his bedroom door, the force of it slamming against the wall and bouncing back slightly. Without breaking the heated kiss, he carried you to his king-sized bed, the plush comforter and silken sheets welcoming as he lays you down gently.

His hands were almost shaking when he pulled your top off and tossed it carelessly to the floor. His fingertips traced the swell of your breasts, the delicate curves, before cupping them gently.

He dipped his head, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the column of your throat before he's almost whimpering while rubbing his cheek against your cleavage, the warmth seeping through your skin and it's impossibly hard to stop the soft moans when his fingertips brush mindlessly along your nipples.

You were both almost a panting mess when his hands slid down to your hips, gripping them tightly as he ground his own against yours. Even through the fabric of his pants, you could feel the evidence of his arousal, the hard length of him pressing and rubbing against your clothed cunt with such hurry.

"Wrap your legs around me," he commanded, his voice low, almost raspy before he's kissing you messily, all tongue and teeth clashing together combined with his quiet whines when he continues rutting into you.

His body shifts, an arm extending towards the drawer but you stop himself from taking anything out, grabbing his hand and intertwining your fingers together instead.

He feels dizzy, and his hand squeezes yours before his other hand reaches for a pillow to place underneath your hips.

comfort comes first before he starts pounding into you.

Everything was gone. your panties, his belt and boxers all discarded away from his sight while he whispers your name as he grips his shaft to push his already leaking tip into your cunt to take whole.

“O-oh zayne—” A long, drawn-out moan spilled from your lips as Zayne filled you completely, stretching you around his hard, throbbing length. Your back arched off the bed, pressing your chest flush against his own, fingers digging into the muscular expanse of his back.

He was feral. He began to move, pulling nearly all the way out before slamming back in, setting a rough, fast paced.

The bed creaked beneath you, the headboard slamming against the wall with each thrust, and your eyes roll all the way back as whines combined with his heavy breaths and whimpers fill the air.

“A-ah, fuck, honey—” was all you managed to spill out before he's thrusting into you harder when he felt every clench and flutter around his aching cock, the velvet heat driving him to new heights of ecstasy.

“Zayne, zayne, zayne!” you chant in repeat breathlessly, his lips tries to connect with yours when he also feels his impending release drawing too close.

“Y-your zayne is here—” he practically breathes out as he manages to peck your lips, “Mmhn c-coming—” Zayne tries to muffle his whines against your skin when his hips jerked erratically as he emptied himself inside you, wave after wave of searing hot seed spilling into you.

The feeling of Zayne's thick, pulsing cock throbbing and twitching within you made you cum instantly. Your walls clamped down around him like a vice as you rode out your shared climax, hips continuing to rock slowly into you before coming to a halt.

For a moment, there was silence, broken only by the sound of your shared breaths, the rustle of sheets, the soft thump of his heart against yours.

…

You woke up in Zayne's bed, wrapped in his arms, a soft, contented sigh escaping you as you shifted slightly, feeling his warmth against your back.

The sunlight streamed in through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. As you turned to face him, you see zayne breathe peacefully, and it brings a faint smile to your face.

He looked younger, almost boyish in sleep, his lashes casting delicate shadows on his cheeks.

His eyelashes are really long. you think, fingertips brushing over his eyelids delicately.

Zayne's eyelids soon fluttered at the light touch of your fingers, and a low, appreciative hum escaped him. He leaned into your touch, seeking more of your warmth and comfort.

Slowly, his eyes opened, a sleepy, warm look in them as he regarded you with a slow, drowsy smile. "Good morning, love,"

[nerdycandytraveler]

"it's time to post something funny" whispered my narrator, but little did we know it was my sister.

[stellamarielu]

first thing

jack abbot x female reader

summary: lazy mornings with jack are few and far between, but they always exceed your expectations or jack topping you from the bottom while you ride him first thing in the morning!

content: nsfw, 18+ mdni, literally nothing but smut, established relationship of some sort (let your imaginations run wild), p in v sex, dirty talk bc of course, excessive use of the nickname baby, jack being a veryyy lowkey pleasure dom

word count: 1.1k

author’s note: i’m a firm believer that our dear dr. abbot has a filthy mouth, so of course i had to write something nasty for him. the lack of smut for that smug son of a bitch is criminal. also i am convinced that he would call you baby in bed, but only in bed. i dont think he’d be one for pet names, but something about him being all pussy drunk and calling you baby through low raspy groans. yeah. that is all… enjoy!

“You havin’ fun up there?” Jack’s voice was peppered with self-righteous teasing. His words melted into the air through a lazy drawl as you straddled his lap, his dick buried deep between your legs.

Fifteen minutes ago, you were both fast asleep, bodies intertwined under his linen sheets.

You stirred awake in each other's arms, a tangled mess of limbs in the soft yellow hues of morning light that fought through the blinds. Slow sensual touches on bare skin led to your body on top of his. Feeling the familiar stretch as you sunk down on him, you took your time rolling your hips and coaxing quiet grunts from the man below you before either of you could even think about getting out of bed for the day.

It was rare for you to have an upper hand in the bedroom. When it came to Jack, dominance was his territory, the power associated with it fed his ego. It was uncommon to catch him in a moment of vulnerability, but sometimes you found him trading his strong willed attitude for a more docile demeanor. It often appeared when he was preoccupied or overcome with the need for relief, giving into the soft comfort of your hands on his body. He had to be just needy enough to willingly let take the lead, and even then, he could never fully submit.

He used his words in retaliation.

Maybe his rigid frame would melt under your touch, or his inhibitions would fall to the side at the sound of your pathetic little moans, but he would always rely on his words to remind you who was really in charge. 

“Nice and slow just like that.” The deep rasp of his voice echoed between your bodies; his instruction still laced with sleep. 

A smirk peeked through his slumber worn expression, fingertips resting at the flesh of your waist as your body pressed into his.

His head fell back into the pillow, eyes threatening to close, and you could feel his fingers hug harder into your skin with each rock of your hips.  

“There you go.” He held you, trying his best to let you set the pace, but desperately wanting to tighten his grip and drag you along his body— rough and impulsive. 

Your fucked-out stare scanning him from above was the only thing keeping him in check.

Your pleading eyes begged for control. They practically oozed with desperation as you rode him. It was enough to make his grasp soften as he surrendered to your desire, watching as you used him to please yourself. Used him. His dick pulsed at the notion. 

Jack was addicted to you, mind numbingly obsessed with the soft gasps that fell from your lips every time you came. He swore those sounds alone could give him a buzz unlike any drug. Some nights, he’d make you finish on his fingers so many times he’d lose count. He needed to make you feel good— wanted to watch the way your body reacted to his touch. It held a different kind of control, witnessing you give yourself over to him with your back arched and your head thrown back.

“Show me how you want it baby.” His voice was attentive as he fed into your delusion of power. 

You were grinding into him. Your movements bordering on pitiful with your palm flat against his chest as you held yourself upright. Little whimpers of surrender made their way from your chest with each pass of your hips over his, angling yourself just right so that his tip brushed against the perfect spot with every movement. 

Fluttering shut in the inevitable anticipation of release; your eyes left his. You were basking in the warmth of his hands on your bare body; one of them trailing up your torso, the pads of his fingertips tracing into your skin, higher and higher until,

“Eyes on me.” Delicately, he held the nape of your neck, forcing your stare back on his as he pulled you closer to him. 

You dumbly nodded your head. Handing him back an ounce of authority as you followed his command through a hooded gaze.

“Look at you. So goddamn pretty for me.” 

Your jaw went slack at his words, mouth slightly open and brows knit together as the pressure building in your abdomen threatened its release. 

He could feel each greedy response of your body— could sense your impending orgasm with every clench of your thighs, and he was done letting you take the reins.

His hips snapped up to meet yours. Thrusts moving in tandem with each grind of your hips.

“Shit- you feel too fuckin’ good.” Profanities spilled from his throat at the satisfaction of having full control.

He was holding onto your hips and fucking into you from below. The tensing of your body and the sweet moans dripping from your tongue only adding to his pleasure. You were his. He needed it— craved the promise of your devotion in the breathless praise of his name on your lips.

“Come on baby let me have it.” Growling out in a low moan, he all but begged you to finish for him— finish on him. Pushing you right over the edge with just a few simple words and the persuasive quality of his voice. 

Your walls hugged tight in obedience, a string of whines leaving your throat as you came undone around him.

“There she is.” His statement of recognition seeped with affection while his grip on your hips remained unrelenting.

The high of your release persisted as Jack’s thrusts kept purpose, his hands on your body holding you steady. 

“Got another one for me?” A sadistic warmth took over his voice, and he drove into you harder. The question obviously rhetorical as he made sure to hit the spot that made you clench around him.

The day began around you as gentle sunlight filled the room, but neither of you had a single thought of getting out of bed anytime soon.

[tteokdoroki]

✎ᝰ. OCT 22ND ★ SOMNOPHILIA - seishiro nagi .ᐟ

[CHAPTER TWENTY TWO SLEEPING BEAUTY ] once upon a time, a brave knight, destined to marry someone she’d never met, says fuck it and plans to reap the rewards of saving the prince from eternal slumber. without realising that he’s already awake… ( 8.8K ).

✧ chapter contents - minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact ! nsfw, heavy smut, characters in their 20s, sleeping beauty!au, somnophilia, hold the moan, overstimulation, cockwarming, dacryphilia, outer-course, handjobs, blowjobs, pussyjobs, free use, dub con, cumplay, creampies, not beta read, knight + fem!reader, aurora!seishiro nagi.

✧ fairy godmother's note - this is so late i'm so sorry, i think i might start posting kinktober towards the end of the week and into november, enjoy me loves. miss u loads! - m.list ⋆ kinktober m.list ⋆ taglist ☆

you hardly remember the day that prince nagi was born — despite most definitely being there for the ceremony that commemorated it. at the time, you were hardly out of your own leading strings, still babbling dumbly and clinging to your mother’s garments whenever someone poked their nose in your face. obviously far too young to remember the curse placed on him by that wicked witch maleficent. 

prince seishiro nagi was beloved by all and affection for him was widespread throughout the kingdom. he was born deep into the night, at a time where the sky had been painted with deep blue and midnight hues, with hair as silky and pale as the silver moon and eyes like the glittering starry sky. so they said. at least that’s what your been told. while present at the time, you would hardly know — you were too young to remember how he looked nor the very moment you were promised to him as a baby yourself. 

from the moment you were born, your fate was signed away before your very first breath and once you arrived and took two steps you were instantly reared to become prince seishiro’s future wife. to help join two kingdoms in harmonious union. from the moment you could talk, you’d spent your entire life training to become the wife of a man you hardly knew. there were lessons in perfect posture, dainty dancing and simple sewing. not to mention how to serve a king and please a husband  — who apparently had unnatural beauty, the softest voice and the kindest of hearts. outside of nagi, you hadn’t a single hobby or interest that didn’t concern him, solely born and bred for his best interest. how were you supposed to know if any of those spoken traits were really true and not just word of mouth when nobody had any idea where the prince actually was. 

rumour had it, that the silver haired royal had been whisked away to the woods to be raised by the very fairies that blessed him — with hopes of avoiding maleficent’s malevolent curse in which seishiro was destined to prick his finger on a poisoned spinning wheel by age twenty three. in an attempt to undo the wicked spell, the fairies had combined their magic and made it so that only a true love's kiss would be able to wake up their beloved prince. which soon became your duty, by the time you came of age too. 

since then, and for twenty two years after, there was not a peep from the prince — to his people and his kingdom, he’d practically vanished overnight, becoming one with the moon and stars they prayed to each night. holding out hope for his return to the throne. 

in turn, you had no idea when your duty would come to fruition. maleficent's thunderous mountain, shrouded in a thick layer of green, jealous smog that was sure to suck the life from any innocent soul still raged on — meaning her curse hadn’t come true. she still hadn’t found the prince. no one had.

no one except for you. 

unknowingly, you’d met nagi humming amongst pointed shrubbery and wild flowers deep in the forest — absentmindedly complaining about tne berries he was forced to forage for his uncles back home. for you, it was instant, as though an invisible force had drawn you two him like the the two poles of a magnet. prince seishiro was a sight to behold, even before you knew who he was, the timbre trill of his voice filled you with a wave of unfamiliar butterflies that battled their way into your throat — trapping your voice. his eyes were an enchanting pool of riches, frightened of your presence at first, but filled with stripes of silver you were sure had to be stolen from the moon. 

for you, it was love at first sight. a powerful urge to be near him building up in your lungs like fluid in a sick person. you were sure he felt the same — the emotion obvious in the way he tentatively touched you as you talked about nothing and everything at all. the way he swooped down to your height to listen to tales of land and fortune he could only have dreamed of.

in those hours that you spent alone together; pressed into one another’s side’s amongst intertwined tree branches like two lovers' limbs after a night of improper passion  — you’d felt the most seen you had in all your life. for the first time in forever, someone saw you as more than just a bargaining chip or a trophy to be paraded around royal courts in honour of union. someone saw you as a whole, read your story from start to finish and still wanted to know more. you weren’t just a knight made to save a prince. to nagi, you were so much more.

and to you, nagi was a breath of fresh air — someone who craved a more exciting life rather than being banished to a life of greenery and foliage. despite his charming air of laziness and naivety, he expressed to you a burning sense of eager deep within. it was innocent, inquisitive but nagi’s thoughts called out to you like the bird song of two mates. the worlds you came from were different, clearly, but you just made sense to one another.

but back then, in those quiet moment with your head on his shoulder and nothing but the sound of oak leaves swaying in the gentle summer breeze — you’d had no idea that the silver haired stranger was just prince seishiro living under a different name. you thought him a commoner and he thought you a random huntress on a horse. no one had any idea that he was the crown prince, that he’d been snuck back into the castle on the day of his twenty third birthday to regain his title and his crown… only to be lulled by the cruel call of a sinister stranger  shortly — pricking his finger just like maleficent had planned. 

you were meant to marry. you were supposed to go back for seishiro and run away together, live apart from the expectations bestowed upon you as children. unfortunately, you wouldn’t find out until returned to the spot where you’d first met him, and were met with the face of the villain herself. instead of your lover. that’s when you realised the gravity of it all. who seishiro was. who you were meant to be. 

deep down, you knew this was a love too sacred to pass by, and with the white haired prince counting on you —  you would do everything in your power to save him. save the prince and the kingdom from sleeping soundly for the next one hundred years.

with the help of the fairies who raised nagi, you were able to take down the terrible maleficent — grateful that your parents had at least made you handy with a sword. through the flames of the beast above you, you wielded your weapon with a strength and bravery that would go down into the history books of lands far and wide. killing maleficent in the form of the dragon had been no easy feat but you fought, with screaming muscles and a bloody face — fulfilling the duty you had been born to do. trained to do. for nagi and for your kingdom. 

the difference was, this time, you were doing all of this for love. not just for honour.

after winning the flaming battle, you staggered your way through the kingdom despite your burns and free bleeding wounds, making your way up to the tower where your silver-moon haired lover slept. part of you felt envious of the slumbering kingdom, the eternal rest they had slipped under while your body burned and ached with every step that you took… but as soon as you laid eyes on your handsome prince — sleeping like a fallen angel crowned by scattered lights. the glinting particles of dust forming a shining halo over his sleep the steel hair. 

the beat of your heart quickens as you approach the bed tucked deep within his quarters — rivalling the speed of the finest royal race horse and the world completely falls away until the all that remains are you and seishiro. your prince. your love. even while he sleeps, he’s unfairly handsome, grey lashes dusted with starlight just barely brushing the apples of his milky-toned cheeks, his hair curls against his forehead and his lips, rose-tinted, part with each gentle exhale his body takes to keep him alive. without even thinking, your finger trails the slopes and contours of nagi’s delicate features, brushing over his Cupid’s bow that seems damp with the condensation of his warm breaths. the sensation stokes a fire within you while your mind wanders to less than pleasant thoughts.

how would his lips feel if you were to kiss him? how would they taste? how would seishiro kiss you back? the questions swirl around in the calcium cage of your skull like a storm untapped, fuelled by the remnants of adrenaline that simmers in your veins from the fight. it would be wrong, to do what you’re thinking of doing — to press your lips to the seam of his and run your tongue every inch in his hot mouth, behind his teeth and over his own pink muscle. maybe even to cup his throat and feel every breath he takes. it would be so wrong… and yet, your moral compass and previous duties seem to be out of working order, thus, losing the war the flickering desirous flame within you. one that rivals the breath of the dragon slaid outside.

no one would really care if you were to have the way with the crown prince. after all, you would need to be rewarded for your self sacrifice and service to the kingdom that could have very well been burned to the ground if it hadn’t been for your bravery. you deserved this, you deserved him and the chance to appease your growing appetite for the sleeping beauty before you. right now, there were no barriers… no servants and squires and maids or men to tell you what was proper of a knight or of a promised woman, and there certainly weren’t any barriers to the body of the silver haired prince. without any blankets, there wasn’t much to stop you from trailing a hand over seishiro’s clothed stomach and over the hills of his princely dress pants.

your fingertips grazed the taut muscles of his thick thighs as you teased yourself. teased the slumbering royalty. daring tug at the belt loops and thick leather her bound his trousers to his unfairly slender waist. with your lip caught between the sharp edge of your teeth, you unbuckle his belt and pull down his pants inch by inch, a tidal wave of goosebumps erupting over the surface of your body like freshly plucked chicken skin as you reveal more and more of his milky, toned flesh. he’s smooth all over, blueish veins apparent as they spiral underneath his skin, but nagi is just as soft as you remember, as warm brushing up against you as he was the day you first met in the woods.

saliva spreads across your tongue like a sheet of rain during a storm or a flash flood when his undergarments come down with the hem of his trousers, revealing a snow white path of pubic hair that curls prettily against his pelvis. there’s a craving for more that sloshes into the dips and deficits of your brain, like a dark haze that shrouds your brain in nothing but lust — so you act on the feeling, pulling more and more fabric away from seishiro’s most intimate parts until his cock, half hard and already leaking, is able to spring free. 

the sleeping beauty’s breath hitches and catches on the edges of his throat as his hard-on first hits the cool air shrouding his chambers. whatever preconceived notion you’d had of the prince’s body beforehand is quickly tossed away when you finally set your sights on his girth — he is as long as he is thick, chubby against the softness of his tummy with a pink tip that already oozes a thick stream of cream caused by the ghost of your touch over him. a warmth spreads through your entire body, an urge to taste him washing over you in a poor attempt to cool your need down. if you taste him, would that be part of your reward? would it matter to anyone if you put your mouth on the prince while he innocently slept… especially after you’d saved everyone?

you still cannot find it within yourself to care. 

perhaps the wounds maleficent inflicted upon you have left traces of her bad energy, for you continue to disregard your own morals and good intentions by crawling onto nagi’s bed ( careful with your movements while he shifts in his slumber ) and you keep your touch tender when taking him into your hold, the supple pads of your fingers wrapping around the length of the prince’s shaft while you smooth the pad of your thumb into the slit on his cockhead. rubbing the precum into it sweetly. now up close and personal with his most intimate parts, you’re able to catch the scent of nagi… which only worsens your hunger for him. he smells so good, the musky scent of his arousal almost sending your eyes into the back of your skull — acting like fumes of a pretty wildflower in the forest you once met. 

it hypnotises you, takes over your every thought and action in the heat of the moment. every sensation you once felt is now heightened by your own arousal, the feeling of your tongue behind your teeth and the silken sheets against your knees and the blistering temperature of seishirou’s girth in your palm. adjusting your grip on him to something more firm, soft little hands dwarfed by the sheer size and thickness of him, and accidentally pull a tiny moan from your sleeping lover. any trepidation mingling with the air in your lungs is quickly eradicated once you finally give in, flicking your tongue over the cream gathering at nagi’s mushroomed cockhead that burns a painful shade of deep red.

opening your mouth, you take seishiro down your throat as though it’s the easiest thing in the world, your tongue flexing against the bluish purple forked veins that spiral down his heavy shaft. all you want to do is make him harder, feel the blood rush from his slumbering brain to his balls so you can take him properly, elsewhere, later on. what doesn’t fit past the seams of your chapped lips, you continue to palm, setting a steady pace to the rhythm of your hands jerking the silver-haired prince off. its slick and easy, aided by the thick globs of precum that spill over your knuckles and sink into the lines in your palms — seishiro may be asleep, but his body reacts, hips bucking into your closed fist while he squeaks and sighs lazily. 

his head remains tacked to the pillow tucked behind it, starlight locks splayed out across the cooling silk fabric — perfectly tousled despite being slightly out of place as he writhes under the sinful prison of your hot, wet mouth. even you have to moan as you sink down on him, his heavy and pulsating balls meeting your chin while your nose nudges the prickliness of his happy trail. if he were awake, you wonder if nagi would be the type to coax you through giving him head — soft whimpers glossed in his lips while those moonshine grey eyes hold your gaze. or would he push your head down on him and fuck your mouth lazily as though it were another hole to fill with his cum.

part of you wants to rouse him right now, with the kiss of true love the fairies said would work on him, but only to hear how much louder he’d cry and moan for you. you want to hear how the Prince would praise you for taking him so well, slurping the early seed from his tip and hollowing your perfect pudgy cheeks as you gargle him down your eager throat. your imagination runs ahead of your actions as you bob your head faster and faster without regard for your lover sleeping soundly above you lewd slurping sounds echo throughout the room as you picture him looking down at you with flushed cheeks and lidded moonlit eyes — coaxing you to take more of him. 

the heat between your thighs returns, an unbearable searing ache pulsating through your clit as blood carrying lust and other happy hormones shoot straight to it. in one swift motion, you shove a single hand past the waistband of your own pants and undergarments to toy with the sensitive bud, smearing whatever remained of his precum and pre-release against your awaiting cunt. your eyes flutter shut at the taste and heaviness of nagi on your tongue, his viscous arousal flowing down your throat in saltine waves. the flavour was addictive and you found yourself bobbing your head faster, and faster — matching it to the pace at which you stroked your own sticky slit.

lavishly, you run your tongue back and forth over the opening of seishiro’s bulbous cockhead, humming happily around his thick shaft when he involuntarily bucks into the hellish fire of your mouth — it makes your heart swell to know that his body is reacting to you and you alone, how it could very well be this way for the rest of your lives. while you hump your own fingers, their tips pruning with how wet you are as you circle your clit, the sleepy beauty’s balls batter your chin as his taut hips thrust upwards instinctively to chase your dripping tongue and mouth.

drool pours from the corners of it, just as you leak against the seat of your panties — your juices hot and viscous while you finger fuck yourself and get off to the sensation of blowing the sleepy prince while he rests. everything is so sloppy, so messy and wet and you can’t help but to spit down on nagi as his dick swells against your tongue, the frothy mixture clinging to the prominent blood flushed veins that sprinkle from the tip down to his base. 

your release sneaks up on you like a silent figure in the night; hiding from the moonlight and a dirty moan slips from between your lips as you let go of your lover with a lewd pop, your jaw aches deliciously and your tongue is sore from running circles over his tip — as is your wrist from being down your pants to bully shapes into your clit but you don’t mind the pain, it’s all worth it to make yourself feel good. to make nagi feel good so you can use him later on, turning him from a prince into a sex doll. dopamine continues to spark across your brain as you switch from sucking to jerking nagi off, keeping the rhythm of your slick palm wrapped around him in tune with the one that rolls your clit between your fingertips and pinches your swollen folds. 

you don’t last much longer, not when you’re able to watch the moonlit prince fall apart above you even when the depths of sleep cling to the fine lines of his soul. the last remaining thread of your sanity snaps before you’re cumming against your own digits, gushing through the gusset of your panties and straight through the layer or your pants — even while you shiver and shake from the force of your own orgasm, you manage to find a the mobility to tap nagi’s cockhead lewdly against your pink tongue, grinning with an open mouth as his own orgasm rips through his unconscious form. 

warm and viscous seed paints a pretty picture against your strawberry tastebuds as it spurts copiously from his ravaged, fully erect cock. even hitting the back of your throat. 

but it’s not enough, it’s still not enough. a fire of desire still burns bright inside of you and nagi is still as hard as a rock in your hand. so you don’t see a point in stopping, not when you still want him and he clearly still wants you. 

in a whirlwind of fabric, you quickly abandon the lower half of your clothes — even though your legs are violently shaking and there’s a fizz in your brain that makes your vision go blurry from your orgasm, you find the strength to clamber into the prince’s lap and straddle him. a pulse of excitement runs through you as your bare ass meet his half dressed thighs and you set your palms flat against his chest to steady yourself above him. you’re barely able to contain the wavering moan that rumbles in the back of your throat as seishiro’s erection jumps against your sluice sex, as if coaxing you to lower yourself down onto him.

without an air of guilt, you do just that; indulging your sleeping lover’s underlying plea as you slip a hand between your temperate bodies to position his creamy cock at your weeping entrance — you run it back and forth over your slit a few times whilst holding back a quivering hiss, letting him dip in and out of your unused hole. you can’t help but squeak adorably when you start to rock your hips down, sucking him in and stretching over the thick circumference of his tip. you even manage to clench down on seishiro, trapping him inside with each inch you manage to take.

your head hangs low and you steady yourself against nagi again; nails forming pink crescent moons against his pearlescent skin because you’re not sure how much of this burn you can take. he’s so big, yet his cock is so helpless against your sticky walls — it’ll take a lot of work just to reach the hilt. “oh, fuck,” you whimper to yourself quietly, not wanting to be caught taking advantage of the kingdom’s slumbering royalty. you try to stablwlisw your breathing, hold onto your sanity by only fucking yourself over his tip because right now… it’s all you can manage. getting used delicious stretch to your pussy and the resistance of your hole as nagi slips into your tightness. 

in order to ground yourself, you press yourself against the moonlit prince until you’re both chest to chest — allowing your body to relax against is as you slide further down his cock. and, with this change in position, you easily dot feather light kisses from the pale skin, unmarked skin of seishiro’s neck up to his jawline — licking the light layer of perspiration that added diamonds to his skin. his pulse is slow, languid under your lips, just as the rise and fall of his chest is. nagi still sound asleep as you bathed his cock in all of your syrupy wetness. eventually, you reach his lips and hardly hesitate in kissing them, lapping over the seam of them with your tongue as if you’re asking for entrance when you don’t really need to.

not when his body is so willing to give into you, even while seishiro rests.

you swear you feel his lips twitch apart against your own, parting specifically for you to pour your withering moans into him and breathe life into his unconscious soul — your tongue licks at his, relishing in the flavour and slight sweetness to his mouth, letting it distract you from the twinge between your thighs as you finally seat yourself on his girth fully; breeders balls nestled comfortably against the curve of your ass. a feeling of content washes over you, feeling the chubbiness of his girth press hotly against your ribbed walls that catch on his prominent veins there. 

panting lightly, a ripple of desire is the next sensation that you feel, experimentally clenching around the prince below you — bottoming out as your cunt drools down on him. somehow, you find the strength in your thighs to lift your hips and thrust back down, a wet slap bouncing off of all four walls in response. it’s insane how tight, warm and wet you are — how thick, heavy and nagi is, constantly pressed up against your g-spot before you’ve really even moved. you splutter and hiccup as you begin the slow bounce of your hips and allow yourself the grace to accommodate for your sleeping lover’s size, his bright red and possibly overstimulated cockhead nudging feverishly against the pleasure spots that decorate your temperate silken walls. 

“…gods,” comes your shaky voice, trapped behind the prison of your teeth in a weak attempt to hold in your moans. “s-seishiro, f-feel so good…” though you speak to no one in particular, using the sound of your own wailing voice to get yourself, you can feel the white-haired royal underneath you buck upwards as though he wants to fuck you back — driven by tired strings of lust and desire as though he’s a puppet on a set of strings for your own pleasure. collapsing forward, you nestle your head underneath his chin so that the only part of your body moving is your hips working up and down on nagi’s pulsating cock at break-neck speeds. in this position, your murky breaths of exertion coast over his pearlescent skin and your eyes grow misty at the perfect angle. your stream of thrusts are constant like a rushing river, allowing his bulbous leaky tip to barrage into your sex and pull squelching, lewd noises from your poor pussy.

you’re already so sensitive, it’d be a miracle if you last much longer riding your lover like this and to your heart’s content. slumped over him, chewing on your chapped lips to hide the debauched noises that slosh over your tongue and are churned up in your mouth with the drool there. it’s pathetic, really, but your mind is too hazy and high on the drug of ecstasy to care. to pacify yourself and the growing fire that burns the butterflies in your tummy, you switch from bouncing on his fat girth to grinding against it, dancing with your partner in a sensual sticky grind where only you are able to lead. every stroke of his cock within your sluice, pulsating walls makes it harder for you to keep quiet or keep still — the bed creaking beneath the weight of your movement becomes a loud wail and harmonises perfectly with the tune or skin slapping on skin and your pathetic bleats of bliss. 

sweat from the exertion of pounding your mound down on the curve of his cock begins to bead at your hairline, pearling in opaque orbs that form your own halo. one that belongs to a fallen angel. it drips down the side of your face onto the prince below you, another way that you mark him, just as your juices do — droplets of it trailing down his shaft, balls and even his ass. if someone were to walk in now, they’d set their sights on an obscene display of sin, their perfect prince defiled by his knight to be, but you don’t care, your mind and exhausted limbs buzzing with wanton. you’ll use him until cum, claim your prize and work your selfish pussy over him until you know every constellation by heart because of how many times you’ve used seishiro to make yourself see stars.

every sensation overwhelms you, the creamy and tackiness to his cock between your slicked up thighs and the pressure of his purpling cockhead as it digs disgustingly against your g-spot in the most perfect of ways because you clench down on him every now and again. static rings loud in your ears that burn with both shame and lechery for taking advantage of your sleeping lover, the notes from the tune your fat pussy pap-pap-papping as it connects with stitchers of nagi’s bare flesh has a tingling sensation spreading under your skin too. even when he bucks instinctively into you, your entire body jolts in response because there’s no greater relief than knowing that you are yearned for… even within the clutches of unconsciousness.

when nagi whimpers in his sleep, you have to bite his shoulder — keeping your wailing mouth occupied even if you’ll leave teeth marks against him in place. someone could hear the way you beg him to fuck you, muffling yourself as you whisper dirty fantasies to yourself and split your swollen nether lips open on his drippy dick. you’re not sure if that is a good or bad thing to want, to be heard.  “f-fuck me sei… p-please my prince,” everything feels so depraved and so wrong, while you whine sweetly against saltine skin. however, you don’t see yourself stopping — not until you can no longer feel your legs from riding him and your cunt aches from cumming so hard. “fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!”

the back and forth of your sluice sex over nagi’s lap tampers with your system, sending orgasmic shockwaves down your spine and happy hormones into your bloodstream. you alternate, once more peeling your soaked thighs away from his and lift your fluttering entrance higher and higher up his shaft until there’s barely an inch of the white haired royal left inside of you. the emptiness makes you miss him, a choked sob weaving its way like a vine through the gaps in your ribs as it claws its way out of your throat. it’s a shuddering noise that you suppress by locking lips with seishiro again, wet on the seam of them as you lift your head to kiss him. 

“i wanna cum, nagi!”

the words are just about to melt in his mouth but…

…but euphoria is quick to slip into your veins like a welcomed chill on a hot day when nagi suddenly rouses from his slumber — following a natural compulsion to snap his hips upwards with a powerful force and filling you in one fluid motion. he’s awake. one of his hands, extremely strong and veiny and firm takes you by surprise as it clamps down on the back of your neck  so that he can keep you in place too. it was almost as if he was chasing the snugness of your oozing, squelchy mound. an incredulous gasp drifts warmly from your mouth and condenses in nagi’s, for a second you worry that he might push you off and yell for help… but recognition registers on the slope of his handsome features. 

he’s awake…how long has seishiro been awake? 

moonlight lashes flutter against your face from your proximity and murky grey eyes, littered with exhaustion between their flecks, light up with a sprinkling of hearts as then open to look at you. slowly but surely their gaze drifts downwards, honing in on the point at which his milky cock repeatedly disappears into your puffy pussy, the glaze of your essence on his rock hard cock and clinging to his pubes put on display. 

groaning hoarsely and deeply, nagi’s freehand shoots down to the bouncing flesh of your ass without a lick of hesitation and pulls you the rest of the way down his pulsing girth. then up again. then back down — giving him all of the control to pummel your pussy to the high heavens. hard and fast. “i thought… thought you wanted to cum,” the moonlit prince mumbles, voice still puppeteered by the last strings of sleep. “don’t make it a hassle by holding back now… fuck your self down on my cock ‘n cum…”

he’s awake… how much of this has seishiro been awake for? 

nagi builds up a formidable momentum inside of you, dragging his seedy tip along your ravaged walls, shocking for someone who had essentially just woken up from a curse of eternal slumber. he doesn’t seem to mind that you’ve been using him like a toy for your own sexual desires, but how could he? not when you’re dousing him in your sweet nectar, slapping your soaked sex down on him and squeezing his aching shaft just like that. how can a man, no less a prince, whine about waking up to such a good fuck?

all you can do is reply with a high pitched squeal, your body jerking and jolting on top of nagi as you struggle to keep up with thrusts. “come now, don’t make me do all of the work,” white starts to froth at the base of his cock, bubbling up while it streaks over your ruined pussy lips and clit. “after all, you started this… took advantage of me while i slept. s’only fair, angel,” he adds nonchalantly and makes you gush unbelievable amounts of arousal at the condescending air about his words.

he’s awake and now seishiro wants you to cum for him.

you do try your very best to do as nagi says, selfishly squeezing down on him and locking his precum bleeding tip inside your gummy walls, but your hips fumble their rhythm as soon as he looks up at you — sweaty hair splayed out in the sheets like an angel, lips parted in both curiosity and awe, cock bulging in your lower stomach. you’re choking the life out of seishiro and he likes it, feeling like he’s been rewarded for just being a pretty prince. 

all you want is for him to make you scream and squirt — your clit smears against his pelvis while you buck down on him feverishly. he barely lets you lift of his erection at this point. “‘m close… s-seishiro, please! c-can’t…”

it’s the first time you’ve spoken his name directly to him since your love-at-first-sight encounter in the woods and it flips a switch in the peaceful prince of the night. “y-yeah you can, angel. of course you can…” with a breathy, almost whiny moan, seishiro uses his newfound energy to assault your cunt with a barrage of wild thrusts. jackhammering into you, jerking you about on his throbbing length, coated in a milky mix of your shared arousals. “had no problem… fixing yourself on my cock before. ‘m sure you can make yourself cum on it now that i’m here to help,” he adds through gritted teeth, never letting up on his incredible speed. “shouldn’t be a hassle.” 

that’s all you really need to hear before you’re thrown into the deep end, the dark abyss of the night. while the ropes in your tummy unravel and unwind, the tune of sinful sex reaches its final crescendo and the world around you fades away as you’re thrown over the edge and temporarily black out — you practically squirt in an aggressive, clear stream and renders you a cum soaked mess in the prince’s lap. he forces your head into the junction between his neck and jaw, utilising his hold on you to help muffle the scream that burns at the sore edges of your voice as you cum for him. practically drowning nagi in everything you have to give. 

as if chasing something, your lover speeds up his thrusts, trying to make sure he isn’t left behind while you cum for him. growls and grunts spill over his lips, nagi’s pink tongue darting out the flavour you’d left on him as he slept. he buries himself deep inside of you, lunging into that one special spot nestled deep within your walls so that he can prolong your release — working hard even though he was just roused from what seemed like an eternal night.

the aftershocks of your high and heavenly spasms of your hole around nagi simply aren’t enough to satisfy him however — whatever remains of an orgasm he had coming fade away like embers of a dying flame while you come down. in fact, before you can even collapse on the white haired royal fully, he uses a strength you were unaware that he possessed to immediately flip you onto your back — manhandling you into the position he desires most. your thighs pushed together, knees pushed into your chest and him… towering over you menacingly.

only now do you realise how… large seishiro is. how much more dominant he is over you. how it may have been a mistake to think you could steal pleasure from him while he slept as a personal reward and not expect consequence. or at least a consequence you might enjoy too. “such a waste,” he comments groggily, pulling his cream soaked cock from its home within your pretty pussy with a hiss. using one hand, nagi grabs at his ravaged shaft and taps it against the swell of your thighs pushed together. “how can you use me like that…and still fail to make me cum? i’ll have to do it myself. what a bother, angel.”

your breath catches in your throat, indicating your surprise. “seishiro…w-wait,” you plead, lips parting in a quiet moan at every squeeze of your flesh and tug of hips to get your body into place. you don’t even know what you’re asking for or why you’re asking him to stop, you still don’t care about the consequences. all you want is for the sleeping beauty above you to fall apart, to hear your name on the tip of his tongue, to feel him cum wherever that may be. “‘m sorry…i-i didn’t know you were awake!”

“don’t care darlin’,” seishiro’s breathy words hang between the pearliness of his teeth, shaggy hair tickling the skin on your calves as he positions them over his shoulders instead of in the air. “don’t r’member much… just my finger gettin’ pricked ‘n then you… using me. on top of me…” his cock makes a home between your plush thighs, pushing back and forth against the flesh to relieve his painfully hard erection. the action itself paints the canvas of your body with remainders of your arousal and essence — thick stringy globs of white forming tracks against soft skin. “f-fuck angel, you put in all this work to make yourself cum using me… now it’s my turn.” 

eyes that mirror the silver light of the moon flutter shut and nagi’s nose judges against your ankle — lips grazing the pointed bone and in their wake leave a trail of inflamed bites from where he leaves his mark on you, hoping that they’ll be present on the morning to remind you of who you belong to. his pink tongue peeks out to lick, loll over and soorje what he nips at, but the wet sensation doesn’t distract from curious finger tips that dance their way down and pinch your arousal soaked, fat folds together. neediness streams into your tone as you whimper out for more and your hips arch up to chase the feeling. 

in response a lazy grin twitches at the corner of your prince’s mouth, playing with the tackiness your cunt leaves against his hand before he spreads it over his bright red tip as lube. “quit squirming angel, s’too much of a bother to keep you pinned down,” seishiro then adjusts his knees on the bed and his hips begin to brutally rut into you, dragging his sloppy length back and forth, back and forth through the makeshift pocket pussy he’s made out of your quivering limbs. his precum loaded tip prods at the softness of your tummy and earns you a symphony of high pitched moans and heaving pants, harmonised with heavy balls slapping wetly against your clit over and over again. to the point where you fear you may be overcome with another orgasm all too soon.

being used like this, it feels humiliating, shame burns like paper held to a flame underneath the surface of your skin and tears begin to sting in your lower lash line as your entire body jolts up the bed — nagi throwing you about like a rag while he plunges his hips against your doughy thighs. his stamina impresses you too, but you find it hard to dwell on how quickly your lover was able to be riled up after rising from the constraints of an all powerful curse. you don’t mind the aching pulse to your untouched pussy when you get to watch nagi hang over you and hungrily hump your shaky legs — his usually kind eyes are swamped with darkness of lust the back of his pupil practically eclipsing the grey colour. 

his head darkens at the roots from how much he’s sweating, droplets crowning his head and running down his back like water on a glass windowpane. he’s a sight to behold, he makes your holes drool and mouth water, the both of you completely wrecked by a little thigh fucking and humping. between his merciless pace and the creaks from the bed, nagi jams a veiny hand between the sensual bump and grind of your bodies to grasp at his thick, temperate shaft — pulling it down to run through the entire length of your slippery before tapping it greedily against your puffy clit and snack between your thighs.

the sweet squeak you release has the prince repeating his action over and over, blood rushing through the purpling veins that spiral down his chubby cock. you’re the perfect sticky little fleshlight for him to fuck, to hold and love, and he hisses, jutting his hips forward in order to chase the euphoria coursing for his veins like the next best drug — all while he pounds your thighs to the starry heavens and back. 

juicy, wet sounds fill the room to the brim, a concert and performance of moans and whimpers to match and accompany nagi pounding away at your thighs, grinding against your sex. the white haired man leaks copious amounts of precum, milky like his hair and loose from his sore and sensitive rouge tip, that can’t stop weeping, oozing. his arousal makes each of his movements easier and more fluid, slipping and sliding between your legs and just grazing your sobbing mound. this way; you’re reminded of the sheet sheer size of your lover from the woods — be throbs, swollen and fat with an oncoming orgasm, with the seed that weighs down his balls that swing with each rut of his hips.

a hearty sob escapes you each time they press against you, dragging over your clit that begs for attention. the visage of your prince above you — flushed at the cheeks ( if they’ve been kissed by the petals of a rose), white brows knitted together st the centre of his forehead while ruby lined lips appear bitten and bruised  — begins to blur from your saltine tears. you can no longer hold back, raw and rough desire washing away your ability to control your body and your voice.

the way you cry wracks your body with the case of the shakes because of the wild whines resounding from deep within seishiro’s hard chest. each sound makes your cunt quiver, your juices darkening the sheets below and clinging to his snow while pubes, all the while, the prince ravishes you pulling you apart molecule by molecule before he pieces you back together with just a lazy shape drawn against your hardening clit. 

“w-what a waste of tears, i thought you wanted to use me,” nagi stutters out, breath condescending against your ankles. it makes him pulse between your thighs, knowing that he’s the one able to reduce you to a mess of cum and tears — even if you did half the work for him while he slept soundly. the fact that you threaten to break, still holding onto your inhibitions and desperate moans, only serves to make home rut his creamy cock against you faster. “you should give it up angel, m-much less of a hassle if you give into me.”

and with that, seishiro leans down to kiss you, his swiftness akin to a starved man. he manhandles your thighs to sit either side of his unfairly slender waist, granting him the room to swoop down until you’re chest to chest — his wide, large frame hiding your shaky one away from the world underneath him as his teeth sink into your bottom lip. he licks into your mouth as you open up with a shy mewl, devious tongue wrapping itself around your own as he tastes himself there. “thank you for waking me up, angel,” spit slings between your eager mouths, movements a little out of sync and languid since they’re so driven by a raw passion that simmers underneath the sleepy fog clouding the prince’s brain. “wakin’ me up to do this,”

he settles back on his haunches after coming up for air, laughing tiredly at the pout on your lips from the loss of contact. 

but now that you’re spread eagle with your cunt drooling openly on the bed and glistening under the moon’s light — the white haired royal angles his hips just right, shuddering from head to toe as his sex soiled girth slots between your swollen folds perfectly. his bulbous tip peeks out against your clit and he circles it against you, desperate to hear you wail like the wind again. “feels so good against you, s’not fair how good you feel,” he says under his stuttering breath, using a thumb and forefinger to spread your pussy lips apart — groaning at the strings of clear slick that tie them together. ““later on, when i’ve got more energy, i’m going to fuck this pretty hole. make sure i really have my turn.” nagi promises and swallows thickly at the raunchy sight of you, viscous drops of your treacle like nectar running over your slit and down to your puckered asshole.

you’re grateful for his touch, the friction you’re about to receive… but you miss seishiro’s lips and his tongue so deep in your mouth he might as well have been fucking it too. why do you miss those luscious lips? because they keep you quiet, muffle your embarrassingly high moans and withering screams of pleasure, cover up your glass shattering cries that accompany your teary face. he’s so heavy and raw against you, grinding his shaft that shoots tiny spirts of precum onto your cunt while you match his rhythm — it’s a wonder why you’re crying right now. not to mention the rounds of overstimulation he’s put you through. 

“you were so quiet before, angel, what happened?” a condescending tone fills out the weight in nagi’s voice, punctuated by the harsh lunges of his hips forwards as he smothers his girth in the juicy offerings from your folds. part of the prince wants to selfishly keep you writhing against his hot and heavy dick for all of eternity, adoring the way you bleat and cry for him through bleary Bambi eyes. hes sure you wouldn’t mind it either, but he’s too far gone to keep edging you both forever. “does it feel that good? so fucking good that you can’t help but whine and whimper for me… s’too much of hassle to hold back, angel. go one, cry pretty f’me, pretty girl…”

you burst into tears, letting your emotions overwhelm you. “feels so, so good, my prince,” you slur back as that familiar twinge of pleasure begins to rapidly mount within your tummy once more — throwing an avid, heated look his way. “s-sei, ‘m close,” one of your shaky hands take purchase in the silvery roots of his hair while the other grasps him shoulder so that you have the leverage to grind into him — rocking your hips in a fluid motion like a boat on rapid waves. sanity slips away from you under nagi, his energy completely unmatched as you struggle to keep up with his pace. the way he chases your sweltering, souse sex with the speed of the kingdom’s finest race horse. he pushes forward when you pull back and it goes both ways — one moment can’t happen without the other. 

nagi simpers above you, smirking lazily as he pushes back the sweaty snowy white roots of his hair — drinking in the sight of you. “that so? you’re close? wanna feel it’s, s’too much effort to have you hold it…not when you sound so wet…” both of you move with increased vigour the closer you get to cloud nine, seishiro cooing to you like over the crude sound of your sexes slipping over each other. “…y’should be embarrassed, yanno,” he presses against you, whimpering happily at the feeling of your breasts bouncing against his chest with each thrust, his breath hot against the tips of your ears and weakly grinds against you clit now — his own orgasm on the horizon.  “taking advantage of me like that. using me. s’naughty princess. such a hassle.” 

he tucks his face against your neck, teeth grazing over the skin while he listens out for your hiccuped sobs and heaving chest — you’re so loud when you’re close and it pleases nagi. he can’t stop tapping your clit and nipping at your flesh — desperate to hear how much louder you can get without holding back. a gargled gasp from you has his cock twitching and threatening to burst with release, while the condescending gripes that vibrate in his chest shoot straight to you’re swollen clit. 

listening to you cry and settling his greyed gaze on your puffy eyes is more than enough for nagi to cum, the string of his own sanity snapping as you scream for him. “you look like you’re about to cum, angel,” he purrs lowly, panting between each word. “mmmh, don’t you think i deserve to go first? fuuuuck i’m close…so close. do you want it inside? i won’t ruin the bed that way… wont need to clean it up…” seishiro rambles over the spit pooling pathetically on his tongue, bucking faster and harder against your slippery cunt with each syllable he manages to get out. “…wanna put it inside you as you cum.” 

you barely have it in you to respond and you can hardly make sense of it all, brain running a mile a minute. the feeling of your orgasm twists in your lower stomach, stacking painfully in your pelvis at a rapid pace you can’t even comprehend. “yes…! want it inside, gods yes!” you sigh out, voice rising several octaves. “want you inside!”

though it’s entirely selfish of you to make demands in the moment, after how you so sinfully used the sleeping prince as your prize — nagi relents, slipping the delicious curve of his cock past your puckered, fluttering entrance just as he reaches his peak. it makes him shake as though the gods have stepped down from the heavens and set foot on earth and he really can’t help it, how much he cums. there's so much of it, white hot seed that spews into you hotly, so pent up from all the pleasure you’d given him while he slept. his heavy load pulses against your sensitive, ribbed walls and sticks — lubing up your insides while he pushes his milky cock deeper into your bare cunt. 

“f-fuck!” the white haired prince curses loud enough to rouse his loyal subjects within a ten mile radius with one final swing of his hips. “f-fuck angel… gods!”  strings of opaque seed tie the veins on his shaft to your precious hole and as he twitches with the last spurts of his orgasm — your own high is triggered.

white flashes behind your eyes and the dam breaks for the third and final time — your release trickles out of you in small waves and you let out a borderline pornographic moan. nagi hums happily at the feeling of you squirting around him, Essen e clinging to his pubic hair too. 

for a second or two, seishiro relishes in the way you convulse around him, giving you a moment to calm down while he pacifies your high pitched squeals with gentle kisses along the side of your head. you’re still quivering when he collapses on top of you exhausted — neither of you having the capacity to speak properly. “d-don’t move… jus’ lay here with me,” he murmurs, tripping on his words. “‘m tired… don’t wanna move,”

you hardly have the strength to deny seishiro or push him off, snuggling into him as the pair of you roll onto your sides. “you’re tired… you almost slept for an eternity!” a laugh escapes you in reply.

“and guess who woke me up and made me work to cum. s’on you not me. fair is fair.” nagi quips back, burying his face into your neck.

you suppose that he has a point, nuzzling him from below as the two of you drift off without the fear of never waking up, of succumbing to lifelong sleep  — content, happy and fucked out by your sleeping beauty.

the end.

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate, feed into ai & recommend elsewhere.

[cherrybr4t]

seungcheol makes you squirt (+18, mdni)

WARNINGS: somnophilia w/ consent, est relationship, daddy!cheol, (reader calls him daddy twice?) dom!cheol, sub!reader, unprotected sex, squirting, pet names, slight degradation, orgasm denial, not comfy = don’t read!!

seungcheol is determined to make you fall apart tonight.

after making you squirt a few nights prior, he had a deep carnal desire to see you break apart again and squirt around his cock, his fingers—anything.

he loves when you lose all inhibitions when it comes to him—and he dwells on the fact that he’s the only one who can drive you to that point.

knowing how sleepiness makes you enter a new realm of high—giving up control, all senses heightened, he waits til you’re fast asleep.

entering your shared bedroom, his eyes fall upon your sleeping figure and his heart swells at your peaceful state. his needy cock follows suit, staring to swell at the thoughts of what he’s about to do to you.

pulling away the edge of your comforter, his mouth waters at your cute little nightie, so fuckin’ adorable. he traces the pink lace hem of your satin shorts, and admires the way the edges rides up your pretty ass as you lay on ur side.

gently flipping you on your back, seungcheol kisses your tummy, before pulling down the thin material, only to be met with your bare cunt. your scent hits him in the face and he groans at how sweet you smell.

looking back at your pretty face, he notices you’re still sound asleep—probably exhausted from the long day of work. he takes one big obscene slurp up your cunt, stopping at your clit, twirling it around with the tip of his tongue. closing his eyes, he savours the moment, sucking in the bundle of nerves and gently tugging on it with his teeth.

seungcheol notices how your juices are starting to gush from the bottom and smirks knowingly. testing the waters, he inserts a finger in slowly—and it slides in so smoothly.

knowing your favourite combination, he continues to suck and play with your clit as his fingers work non-stop, massaging your soft walls. he loves the way your cunt remembers him, still sucking him in when you’re in a deep slumber.

he hears a soft whimper from above and his eyes trace over your features. his poor baby, probably thinking she’s having an erotic little dream about him.

your breath quickens, and seungcheol recognises the telltale signs of your incoming orgasm that’s about to hit you. he stills his fingers in you, focusing on curling his knuckles up quickly, to stimulate your g-spot, and at the same sucking on your engorged clit like his life depended on it.

a few quick breaths before you start to come undone all over his fingers and tongue. your chest heaves up and down, and small trickles of sweat start to form on your hairline.

he removes his fingers, not wanting to waste any drop of your precious cum, he sucks his own finger dry, growing harder at the taste of you.

seungcheol gets his cock ready, pumping it a few times, teasing his own slit, letting his pre-cum glisten on his thick head. he groans. he could get off simply at the sight of you laying so cutely in front of him.

instead, he drags the tip across your little cunt, coating his cock with your juices before slowly entering you. it’s only when he bottoms out that you start to stir awake.

“cheollie?” you rub your eyes, propping your elbows up to get a clearer picture and grasp on what was happening.

“shh baby, it’s okay, it’s okay, just wanted to play with your pretty pussy. couldn’t help myself,” he starts to move, watching your limp body too tired to move as he wrecks that small cunt of yours.

“nngh, cheol….” you whine, feeling all senses stimulated, and extremely sensitive though you didn’t know why. it took you a while to get out of that foggy-too-tired-to-comprehend-anything state, but you loved the inebriated feeling that came with it. the immense pleasure causing you to space out—you couldn’t think about anything but his cock.

“yes baby, i’m here,” cheol knows how you’re feeling. he knows how the blitzed feeling makes you cum even faster, and he is in fact very determined to see you squirt for him—because of him—on your pretty sheets that you guys picked out together.

his overwhelming feelings of possessiveness take over as he hovers over you with your legs hung over his big shoulders. “my cute baby, look at you so strung out, but clenching me so fuckin’ tight,”

your eyes roll back, barely being able to keep them open, every glimpse of cheol you catch; you savour. his dark eyes never leaving you, his plump lips parted, letting groans and grunts escape him.

“s’good daddy, feels so gooood,” you whine out repeatedly, that being seemingly all you know what to say.

“mm my baby, don’t got a thing in your head right now huh, just how good daddy’s cock making you feel?” he feels you clenching even tighter and this time, when he feels your second wave of orgasm approaching, he stops, and pulls out his creamed cock.

a broken cry escapes you, and he flips you around, pulling your hips up while pushing your back to make you arch further. you turn your head to the side, feeling frustrated that your orgasm got stolen right in front of you; you cry out, begging for him to just continue fucking you already.

“i know you like it when i do that baby, don’t go throwing a tantrum on me now,” he grabs hold of your hair and gathers them into a makeshift ponytail as he slides his cock back into your cunt.

pulling on your ponytail, he finds a pace that makes him cock his head back, string of curses finding their way on his lips and a consistent line of groans escaping at each slapping of cheeks against him.

your jaw slacks, and your eyes shut as you feel like you’re being transported into a different realm again.

“ch-cheol, daddy…” all you can do is repeat his name like a mantra, thanking him for fucking you so good.

“that’s right, love it when i have you all dumb on my cock, i’m all your pretty little head is filled with,”

still gripping your ponytail tight, he reaches down to rub at your sensitive clit, which has been begging to be touched—insatiable, that one. his rough finger pads make friction with your wet and slippery bud and you scream with whatever energy is still left in you.

“wanna cum cheol, gonna cum—s’too fucking good i-i can’t,”

“hold it. good girls cum when they’re told to, and you’re my good girl aren’t you,” he says that, but his fingers rub faster and faster, switching between figure 8’s and tight little circles which makes you dizzy.

“i-i am but, your fingers,” you beg.

when seungcheol feels like he’s pushed you to your limit, he orders you to stimulate yourself even more.

“play with your tits for me baby, want all your senses to be stimulated for me,” and your hands immediately reaches under your nightie top, fingers playing with your sensitive nipples—one pinch and you cry out another beg.

“please daddy, i need to cum,” you decide to play your cards carefully. “wanna cum around your cock cheol, need to milk your cock dry,” knowing that cheol always needs you to cum before him.

“yeah baby? wanna milk me dry? let me fill you up so fuckin’ full?” cheol gives in, and puts more pressure onto your poor clit.

“fuck baby, cum around daddy’s cock, let me see you claim this cock as yours baby,”

your head goes empty as you feel hot flashes throughout your body, before you jerk forward onto your hands, and you feel spurts of liquid shooting out of you, and you feel a long coil of rope unravel out your lower abdomen as you continue jerking.

“fuuuuuuck, that’s a good girl, let it all out for me baby,” cheol moans at the sight of you squirting for almost a hot minute, making a mess on the pretty sheets, some landing on his cock which he’s desperately pumping as he watches like it’s the best thing he’s ever seen.

he joins you in that moment of ecstasy as he shoots his own serving of hot cum onto your pretty ass.

he sighs, coming down from his high—and activated his after care mode immediately, getting warm towels to clean you up, with a new set of nighties for you to put on after your now needed shower.

he leaves trails of kisses everywhere. “you did so good for me baby, sorry to wake you up, i know you’ve had a long day,” a small pout makes way to his pretty cherry lips you love so much, and you giggle.

“i told you cheollie, i love nothing more than to wake up with a little surprise like that,” you pull him down to kiss him, and he swoops you up to carry you to the hot bath he’s left to finish cleaning you up.

🫦 hi guys!!!! i miss cheol so much,, this is me expressing how much i miss daddy cheol, not a day goes by without a thought of him wrecking me. oke i hope yall liked this,, leave a like/cmt/rb if u did 💋 MUAH XOXO 🍒