#headcanon: first time sleeping over

[laurenairay]

i’ve been loving all your headcanons!! what about the first night you sleep over at quinn’s place? feel like he would be the sweetest in every possible way

Thank you so much Bre! I’m having fun writing them! Oooh yes I feel this too, he would be such a sweetheart:

Sleeping over for the first time is a big deal. It doesn’t even have to be anything spicy, just sharing a bed together – but it would mean something to Quinn. It’s a big step in your relationship, you know?

I feel like Quinn is a bit of an over-preparer. A little ball of stress who just wants everything to go right and for you to feel comfortable and confident in his home. (because hey, maybe, hopefully it’ll be your home one day too).

I’m talking about buying fluffy blankets for the sofa and the bed, cleaning like crazy (probably also getting a professional cleaner on top of it), making sure to have all the things you like to eat for breakfast available, and for sure making sure his bedsheets and duvet are all fresh and clean.

You would’ve been to his house before, so you will easily spot the things he’s done, but like I said – the boy is on manic mode.

Maybe you’re staying over after a date/team function, maybe you have an early morning date, maybe you just suggested staying over (or he did in hope) – whatever the case, when it comes to actually go to bed, Quinn’s anxiety ramps up all over again.

Does he wear a shirt to bed? Does he not? Does he wear shorts? Does he wear long pants? What are you going to infer from whatever decision he makes? I feel like the stress would be so obvious on his face that it would take a little kiss or two to calm him down, and probably a few words of sweet encouragement to just sleep however he usually would, to get him to relax.

Going to sleep with you in his arms? Incredible. Waking up with you curled against his chest? Outstanding.

[justaz]

thinking about arthur who has crazy quick reflexes and is a relatively light sleeper who woke up to the sound of someone in his room and saw merlin crouched down messing with his keys before softly asking “whatre you doing?…before breakfast?”

[chibishortdeath]

Ya know, Castlevania tackled the concept that life after defeating Dracula could be difficult for a Belmont with Richter feeling like he’d lost all purpose and reason to go on living if not for saving others and fighting against something—

But, do you think any of them before him felt that way too?

I mean it sounds kind of miserable, being raised your whole life to be solely relied on for one moment… and then what? How do you handle the sudden shift to ‘not being needed anymore’? Evidently, most of them didn’t have very much happen to them after the events of their games since we don’t get to know—

But, do you think any of them ever got better? Do you think anyone before Richter ever learned how to live for themselves? Did Richter?

Anyway it’s 8 PM and I’m sitting around wondering if any of the Belmonts were still happy after their happy endings (debatable if certain ones got happy endings tbh but anyway), Konami can u check on them, I’m worried—

[backpackingspace]

Wait hear me out Athena with a tapestry cape that penelope made her and owl themed wooden jewelry that odysseus made her

[boviform]

Okay, sorry but is anyone else going insane over the new longform on the latest Patreon livestream?? I absolutely love the dynamic of weird mortician and lonely assassin - literally 'me and the bad bitch I pulled by being autistic'. And the whole confrontation at the end!! I mean, can you imagine what could've been if Pyotr had agreed to give up his ways?? They could have been so happy! I want them to go on holiday around Europe and hold hands!!

[mars-ipan]

some postgame doodles for pride month

[kade-is-here]

Alright, Hail, True Body headcanon time:

Mark Owens has religious OCD.

OCD-in the simplest terms-is having obsessions(repetitive thoughts that bring you distress) that are followed by compulsions(actions that are used to bring temporary relief from said obsessions.)

Religious OCD is when you’re terrified of being sent to hell/God punishing you for small mistakes. These can be things like accidentally using the lord’s name in vain, experiencing intrusive thoughts(which are pretty much a constant with all kinds of OCD, and are essentially thoughts that pop into your head without you wanting them to that are extremely distressing), and many others.

(I have OCD, and I used to have religious OCD before leaving Catholicism.)

Anywho, yeah, Mark is REALLY OCD coded to me, because:

•He continuously reassures himself that God still loves him and still cares about him in order to calm himself, despite it only giving him barely any relief

•He constantly worries that he’s done something wrong or sinned, and he has to keep checking himself about that

•He gets angry at God for not answering him, before getting hit with a truckload of guilt and anxiety for feeling that anger, and he deeply worries that he’s fucked up, so he begs God for forgiveness

•He sees everything negative that happens as his fault for doing something bad, so God’s punishing him.

So, uh, yeah. Neurodivergent mess.

[mad-hunts]

y'all know that feeling where you forgot a detail about your oc (because barton basically is my oc at this point LOL) and then it comes back at the most freaking random time to haunt you? because that is pretty much what just happened to me and it's uhhh. i wasn't sure whether barton's mental state could get any worse, but it seems i was wrong. trigger warning for self-harm under the cut.

so, i think i have talked about this before concerning barton's sociopathic nature, but if there is one thing that people with ASPD experience: it's this chronic feeling of emptiness within them that makes it hard for them to enjoy a lot of thing's. and this, combined with the fact that they can't easily connect with other people due to the fact that they're lacking in empathy... well, it's particularly relevant to barton because he has literally hurt himself before just to feel something.

but barton just acts like nothing is wrong a majority of the time if you see him with bandages on his arms. because he truly does feel a blend of not knowing how to ask for help, as well as thinking that he doesn't need people pitying him, though wanting to help someone who is mentally unwell is usually done out of concern — but barton just doesn't think that way for whatever reason. like, he does have a different perception / a warped perception of reality compared to other people, though he figures that it'd probably be best if he just dealt with it alone. because if even he doesn't know how to voice how desperate barton feels sometimes to get away from the emptiness, then he believes that no one would understand enough to help him, anyway.

and i think he still does it sometimes because barton is just genuinely so depressed that even when he gets something he thinks he wants about 50 percent of the time, it turns out that no, he actually doesn't want it - and he's constantly seeking out stimulation because barton's sense of boredom is like a beast in the way that it almost never seems to go away. because once he learns about something new, sure... it's cool for a little while, but then this new thing he's learned tarnishes and loses its luster, so-to-speak. so it's no longer appealing for him to do + it makes high-risk / thrill seeking thing's like drinking, gambling, egging people on intentionally (especially if they're dangerous), etc. even not seem satisfying sometimes.

[summertimemusician]

*downs coffee like a shot* Before we go back to our regularly scheduled Linktober/Linktober Shadow (because I don't leave things unfinished if I can help it), I gotta get the idea of Revenant First out of my system and y'all get to suffer with me until it eventually ceases being an idea and it turns into an actual story. For some reason we talk a lot about First already being alive or already a ghost by the time the Chain meets him, but I don't think I've ever heard someone talk about him actually coming back to life and so y'all get to suffer with my insane ramblings like I'm an 1800's psychic ward patient who believes themselves to be a witch.

Can be x Reader or not idk just an idea that won't leave my mind.

Might expand on this later so Part out of I/?

Revenant First, who died for his people and in the name of his Goddess. All alone on the surface, fighting, fighting, fighting, always fighting. Just to make the land a little safer before the next hero arrives, just to contain the Imprisoned for a little while longer with likely nothing than a ordinary, common sword to his name and a slowly rusting armor.

Always giving so so so much for his people, always doing his best to protect them, though they scorned him, loathed him, didn't believe or support him, rejected him.

With a spirit so strong and lovely that a Goddess fell for him, hated herself for having to manipulate and put him through such horrid experiences just to save the many, just to turn the diamond of his soul into an unbreakable lonsdaleite blade agaisnt a mad deity.

Someone whose will would be enough to keep him going, just one more fight right? Just one more kill right? Forward, forward, ever onward, it doesn't matter if the flesh decays, if the blood drips drips drips until he is dry of it, if the liver doesn't process nutrients, if the lungs don't draw air, if the nerves feel nothing but the cold cold numbness of the winter of his final years, if the heart doesn't beat. If the armor rusts or the sword breaks. He must keep going, he must keep fighting.

To keep them safe he must have faith, faith that he can keep going, to grasp onto that one.single.thread of purpose until the day that fiery, indomitable, determined will finally burns out. Even if his Goddess may have forsaken him knowingly or unknowingly, even if his people have rejected him to the point he isn't even human anymore, even though they reviled him, even if that rejection should by all intents and purposes chained his spirit to the land or ground the jewel of his unbreakable soul into dust, he still loves them, still adores them, still wants to protect them.

No matter how long he must keep going for it. He wishes to see those he holds dear happy, though they cursed and imprisoned him once.

The Chain getting dropped into a completely empty, desolated and undeniably dead version of Sky's Hyrule, only to find the only living thing besides monster is a single man, with rusted gold armor and an old sword, a faded tunic of green with a long, crimson scarf like a bloody banner. With hair and eyes like theirs, undeniably a Link. But so very frigid, so very silent they almost didn't notice him, that they can't help but wonder just how many years he has spent there, eroding away, ruined but still kind, kind, so very gentle. A shadow of his former self, yes, but still himself, still so so so good, doing all he can until Sky's Era comes and maybe, just maybe, he can finally rest.

Or maybe not, after all, someone has to keep the land safe until the Hero after Sky comes around, no?

Just Revenant First in general.

Or maybe we give him the House in Fata Morgana treatment, the House in Fata Hylia Au if you will- *collapses from sleep deprivation*

[techniiciian]

painting or photography // dusk or dawn // spring or autumn // movies or tv shows // chocolate or nutella // audiobooks or podcasts // card games or board games // fiction or nonfiction // cookies or brownies // dragons or unicorns // bath or shower // blue or yellow // rollercoasters or bumper cars // iced tea or hot tea // left side of bed or right side of bed // zip-up hoodie or pullover hoodie // straight hair or curly hair // gummy worms or gummy bears // rain or snow // sneakers or flip-flops // bowling or mini-golf // pasta or pizza

tagged by: @galaxicide

tagging: @stillsolo ; @skysaunter ; @prvtocol ; @alootus ; @debelltio ; @pracses ( for heavy or jesse ) ; @fcalty ; @acharnemcnt ; @prodigalren ; & anyone & everyone else owo

[animationismycomfort]

don’t mind me I’m just casually sobbing over lion king 1 1/2

[hetchdrive]

Meredith Rodney McKay my fucking beloved

[galaxymagitech]

Batfamily Nickname Headcanons

Dick and Jason sometimes went by Dickie and Jay when they were younger. Bruce, Dick, Barbara, and Jason, who were around for this period, will occasionally use those nicknames. The younger Bats will not, because “it just feels weird.”

The first time Damian used Tim’s first name, he called him Timothy. Tim, who was incredibly sleep-deprived and in the middle of a League of Assassins case, thought it was Ra’s and reacted poorly (that is to say, he attempted to slash him across the face with his surprise bo staff knife, but Damian was saved by the fact that he’s over a foot shorter than his grandfather). Damian believed that Tim took offense and returned to calling him Drake. Tim filed the incident as a hallucination in his memories. This misunderstanding took an inordinately long time to clear up.

The nickname “B” was coined by an eight-year-old Dick after he accidentally called Bruce “Batman” following a civilian kidnapping. Thankfully, his words were slurred, so Bruce convinced the police he was saying “bad man” about the kidnappers. To avoid this mistake happening again, Dick started using “B” in situations where he wasn’t paying much attention to his words or was uncertain. As he grew older, he didn’t need the crutch anymore due to his compartmentalization skills, but he kept it as an affectionate nickname.

After Dick got into an argument with Bruce and Jason accidentally interfered in Dick’s work, Dick called Jason something in Tamaranean a couple times which basically equates to our understanding of “little shit”. Jason decided it sounded awesome. A couple months later, Jason asked Dick what it meant. Dick, who felt really bad, didn’t want to hurt Jason’s feelings and told him it meant “little brother”. Jason now calls his little brothers that word when talking to Starfire. She never corrects him, because she figures he has the correct translation and knows what he’s saying—Tim and Damian are indeed little shits.

[saymio]

In Ho headcanons | (NSFW)

Pairing: Hwang In-ho (player 001/the front man) x Fem!reader

Genre: headcanons, smut

Warning: dead dove do not eat, manipulation, dub/noncon, age gap, might be more but im too lazy to write it down

A/N: not proof read. thanos story in the works rn!! I have writers block so to help a little I'm making some hcs 4 this baddie (prob ooc)

hwang inho, the man that protected you from Thanos and his stupid friend during the first day of the games. he shoo'ed them away. stopping their harassment and took you with him with the rest of the group

hwang inho, the man that gives you his milk. reassuring you every time that its okay for you to have it, and it'll help you get stronger.

hwang inho, the man that checks up on you throughout the night. standing over you to make sure you're getting your nights rests. making sure no creeps try touching your delicate skin.

hwang inho, the man that lets touches linger a little longer than they should, whether its on your hands, thighs, waist..his touches feel more than platonic

hwang inho, the man that tells the guards to make sure you stay safe, to kill a player that hasn't broken the rules if they had to. anything to make sure you stay safe.

hwang inho, the man that would excuse himself to the bathroom just to touch himself to the thought of you. whether its your calm voice or plush hands that feel so soft and delicate...he just couldn't help it.

hwang inho, the man that squeezes your thighs when no ones looking...and when you express discomfort he used his past generosity as an excuse for it.

hwang inho, the man that will kiss you in the middle of the night with no warning. telling you to be quiet and take the kiss because if it were any other man it would've been worse.

hwang inho, the man that will find the perfect timing to sneak away from everyone else with you. he'll make you strip for him in the bathroom. savoring every inch of your body before he sends you away, leaving him in there alone to masturbate.

hwang inho, the man that wont let you sleep. he'll grope and squeeze your thighs, tits and ass. feeling you up while you hold in tears.

hwang inho, the man that reminds you this is your fault when you cry to him during a bathroom strip session. expressing how uncomfortable this makes you and how you don't want it anymore.

hwang inho, the man that will tell you nothing in the world is free. and your body will be the payment he receives for being so generous with you.

hwang inho, the man that gets hard thinking about your age gap. how youre only 19 and he's in his 40's..he loves it.

hwang inho, the man that slips his fingers inside of you when the lights are off, fingering you aggressively. reminding you once again that it'd be so much worse if he wasn't such a nice man.

hwang inho, the man that captures you during the raid against the guards. forcing you to stare into the eyes of your past friends as he kills them.

hwang inho, the man that keeps you as his pet after the games end. reminding you you're lucky because he spoils you with money.

hwang inho, the man that doesn't let you socialize with anyone after he's gotten his grip on you.

Another not: this one is pretty short compared to my last fic, this was to just try n get me out of writers block. expect a Thanos fic to pop up tmr. sorry if this sucked/was ooc, I tried my best T T~~

[boobearymuch]

Their Favorite Underwear (On You) —♡ LADS Headcanons

—♡Summary: They certainly have interesting preferences, that's for sure. —♡Tags: NSFW, suggestive, sex implied, afab!reader, no pronouns used, fingering, panty sniffing/licking —♡A/N: done staring at this I'm throwing it out into the wild —♡ masterlist

—♡ Caleb

Caleb’s favorite pair of underwear on you is somewhat an innocent pick. A worn out pair of cotton panties you’ve had since high school. 

They have some kind of pattern—either horizontal stripes, flowers, a repeating print of the cookie monster—doesn’t matter, he loves it all. 

They remind him of simpler times—laundry day when you were younger—and how they’d get caught up in his own load by accident. You’d flush bright red when he stopped by your door to drop them off, but he’d just throw his head back with a laugh and tell you it's fine.

He’s never told you how close he came to pocketing them instead.

In the present, he’s found himself on laundry duty again. The colonel is dumping your basket of dirty clothes into the washer when a familiar pair of cotton panties fall in. 

He doesn’t even bother looking around; Caleb reaches for them, breath hitching when he realizes they’re the same pair from before. He can’t believe you still have them. You really ought to buy some new clothes…

Something dark—hot—coils in his belly when he turns the gusset inside out and lifts the fabric to his trembling lips. 

It smells divine—a little on the tangy side, but he’ll make sure you drink more water from here on out. 

Then his tongue finally laps at the inner lining, and Caleb’s eyes practically roll into the back of his head. 

His hips jerk against the washing machine just thinking about sinking his tongue into your actual—

Your voice abruptly floats down the hall, some question he can barely hear, and Caleb tells you he’ll be right there.

Perhaps he will pocket these for later, after all…

—♡ Xavier

Xavier’s favorite pair of underwear on you…is actually his own.

His boxer briefs are basically yours at this point. 

When you sleep over and need a change of clothes, he just lets you borrow his; which is how you end up in an oversized shirt and boxer briefs in the first place.

Seeing you in his clothes is a thrill of its own, but seeing you in his underwear?

It’s an entirely new level of intimacy that has his ears burning red and his slow heart skipping a beat.

You wouldn’t wear just anyone’s underwear to bed, you’re wearing his.

He gets oddly clingy when you do, sliding in behind you in bed and nuzzling your shoulder as you scroll through your phone. 

You make some comment about a post you saw, but he’s hardly listening. Instead, his hand is sliding down your hip, stroking the fabric of his underwear and the heat of your skin. It brings a soft smile to his lips.

Xavier can’t help but think the slit of his boxer briefs is silly on you, sliding his fingers inside to gently stroke your pubes. It’s usually innocent, he just likes the texture.

But the hitch of your breath darkens his gaze, and Xavier gently coaxes you to continue scrolling as his hand sinks lower…

He hums in response to your little moan, fingers curling up into your slick heat. His other hand reaches around to take the phone out of your faltering grip and slams it against the nightstand. 

Xavier’s selfish, he admits—he doesn’t want you distracted by anything else while you’re wearing his clothes, his underwear…

You need to borrow another pair of boxer briefs by the time he’s done with you.

—♡ Zayne

Zayne’s favorite pair of underwear on you is not one you expected—thongs. He’s secretly crazy for them. Well, that might be an overstatement—but he enjoys the sight of you in them very much.

You’re surprised to learn about Zayne’s preference, though he doesn’t readily disclose it at first. You have to feign trouble picking between two sets of underwear first, and shove your phone into his face for an opinion. 

“...The one on the right.” The cool response is only betrayed by a fervent blush on his cheeks.

He likes slipping his fingers under the thin string, teasing and tugging. It leaves very little to the imagination; straight to the point.

Your order comes in, and Zayne secretly watches you slide them up your legs as you both get ready for a banquet. It’s all his mind keeps wandering back to throughout the night. 

Not only are you wearing underwear he picked out, but you’re wearing them to mingle with his colleagues. A rather distracting thought, isn’t it?

At one point during the night, you bend over to grab something, and the lack of a panty line reminds Zayne all over again what you’re sporting underneath.

He approaches calmly, interrupting a conversation with his colleagues by wrapping an arm around your waist. 

His excuse to leave early is well thought out—you suspect he’s had it in mind since arriving—but you’re barely listening when his hand wanders low.

It slides down your backside, and he absently thumbs the string of your thong through the fabric of your dress. 

…The car ride home is a short one, to say the least.

—♡ Sylus

If you asked Sylus, he’d say he prefers you in no underwear at all. 

But, if he had to choose, he’s rather fond of a simple red lace. Comfortable, practical, sexy. 

Not to mention, red is absolutely your color. The fact that it’s his too is merely a…happy coincidence. 

When he’s stocking up your closet in the N109 zone, Sylus makes sure to order only the best luxury brands exclusively in various shades of red.

The idea of you sauntering around base in his color is enough to make him purr at the sight of you, even when your underwear isn’t visible.

He makes a game out of guessing what pair you have on; is it the scarlet one with bows? Or perhaps the strappy maroon? 

Sylus finds out at dinner; you’re laughing at some ridiculous story when you uncross your legs, and there’s a flash of vermilion underneath your skirt. 

The one with heart cutouts? My my, you only wear that one when you want something…

His eyes roam you up and down as you continue your story, but you stumble over your words when a swirling red mist drags your chair closer to his.

You were quite bold for wearing such a bright color in public, and if anyone other than him was to catch sight of it…

Well, we can’t have that, can we?

Your breath hitches when his hand roams your thigh, smug eyes never leaving yours. His calloused fingers ghost the hem of your skirt, and your words trail off in anticipation of what’s to come next.

Sylus grips the fabric and tugs your skirt…down. 

Your face burns as he leans back with a chuckle, “You were saying?

—♡ Rafayel

Rafayel’s favorite pair of underwear? Brazilian panties, next question.

They sit high above your hip bones while accentuating the curve of your tummy; absolutely divine.

Of course, you look divine in everything; hell, you’d look perfect in only a seashell to cover your modesty. But something about the aesthetic of these panties, specifically, gets him insanely hot and bothered.

He brings you back gifts from his trip overseas, but he flushes and fervently denies having anything to do with the three pairs of panties tucked behind the body lotions and skincare.

Rafayel quickly changes his tune when you suggest modelling them for him, though.

That’s how you end up changing into them right then and there, a minty lace pair with a little satin rose sewn to the front. You rejoin Rafayel, who’s been waiting patiently on his bed.

Rafayel can’t speak, only tugs the back of your thigh closer as he swallows thickly. 

Your pubes peek out the sides due to the nature of the design, and you make an offhand comment about shaving the next time you wear them. Rafayel immediately shakes his head—as if offended—and grips the sides of your hips, thumbs hiking the side wings further up. 

He flushes, and his nostrils flare right before he lowers his head to lick a stripe up your lace front.

His tongue burns through the fabric, and the Lemurian lets out a shuddering breath against your stomach. You barely register the chill down your spine when he licks you again, this time his teeth catching on the waistband.

You never get to try the other two pairs on for him…

[writingastory]

Headcanons: The Morning After

Prompt: "It’s the first time they’ve woken up together in the same bed, and one partner is mesmerized by the other’s sleeping face—softly watching them wake up, still sleepy and a little disoriented."

Pairings: Xavier x fem!reader; Zayne x fem!reader; Rafayel x fem!reader; Sylus x fem!reader

Warnings: Fluff, suggestive thingies

Genre: "Normal" AU (no Evol, no Wanderers - just normal life)

A/N: I originally wanted to write some angsty, but couldn't bring myself to it. Life's hard enough, let's enjoy some fluff. Hope you enjoy! 💕

🌟 Xavier was still fast asleep by the time you woke up. The sun was tickling your nose in a way it usually did not - and it took you a moment to realize why it felt so strange. You were not in your bed... or your room for that matter.

🌟 Looking around, you found your clothes strewn about the room - and your boyfriend in bed, right by your side, under the blankets. Naked. Just like you.

🌟 A pleasant shiver ran up your spine, images of the night before flickering through your mind. His touches, his kisses - the way you two entangled under the sheets, and became one...

🌟 You smiled and traced the light marks on your skin. Xavier stirred lightly next to you and you couldn't help snuggling into his back, leaving gentle kisses on the back of his neck. Your fingers traced his spine with a feather-light touch, before continuing to draw invisible patterns into his skin.

🌟 He stirred again and rolled onto his other side, facing you. He blinked a few times and scrunched his nose cutely as the light hit his eyes. You giggled and kissed his nose. "Good morning," you whispered, cupping his face gently. He hummed in response, a small smile forming on his lips.

🌟 Xavier was far from ready to start his day. He scooted closer to you and pushed you onto your back slowly, snuggling into your side, his face hidden in your neck as his arms engulfed you carefully - as if you were a precious treasure that would break if he used too much force. His lips found your collarbone, planting soft kisses on the warm skin there.

🌟 "Good morning, indeed..." he mumbled between kisses, his hand finding your thigh, pulling it over his hips to lock you together once more. His one hand gripped your knee to hold your leg in place as his other snaked around the back of your neck to keep you close to him, stealing kiss after kiss from you, each one deeper and more intimate than the one before - and you suddenly had the feeling that you would not leave that bed for a couple more hours...

❄️ Zayne woke up before sunrise - 5 AM sharp, as he did every single day. His internal clock was as precise as a Swiss watch. He jolted slightly as he felt movements next to him; it was a strange feeling to share the bed. The smallest of smiles graced his lips as his eyes fell onto your form in the dim light of your shared bedroom, buried underneath the many blankets.

❄️ He rolled onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow, his head resting on his hand comfortably. Zayne watched you in silence, enjoying the serenity of the moment. He was in no hurry. You two had been dating for months and decided to go on a last-minute vacation in Snowcrest. Away from friends, family - and work. A well deserved break from life that had gotten just a tad too hectic lately.

❄️ Zayne just loved spending time with you. He had invited you on this vacation for this very reason. You two becoming intimate was not planned - but not unwelcome either. It was simply the perfect addition to a perfect day.

❄️ He scooted closer carefully, trying not to wake you up. He just needed to be closer to you now, feeling your soft skin under his fingertips once again...

❄️ You stirred a bit as his fingers trailed over your exposed neck and shoulders, reaching the edge of the blanket. Slowly, he pushed them off your form, small goosebumps appearing on your warm skin. Maybe it was selfish - he should let you rest for however long you needed to - but...

❄️ His lips followed the path his fingers forged a few moments earlier, leaving tender, loving kisses. He felt your stir once more before your opened your eyes, smiling fondly. "Hey..." your voice was hoarse, still thick from sleep. "Hey," he answered quietly, the tiniest smirk forming on his lips. "What time is it?"

❄️ "Probably around 5 AM," Zayne answered, his lips reaching the small dip between your collarbones. You hummed, your eyes falling shut again. "Why are you awake already? I thought we're on vacation?" A chuckle left your lips, and Zayne continued planting kisses on your soft skin. "We are," he answered, slowly rolling on top of you again. "I just... need another taste."

🎨 The air flowing into the room was fresh and cool, carrying a salty taste from the sea. The long white curtains danced in the light wind, the sunlight streaming through the opened windows. You groaned a bit at the sudden coolness, only then feeling the weight on your back. Rafayel clung to you, snoozing happily, his head resting between your shoulders, his arms tightly wrapped around you.

🎨 He mumbled something incomprehensible and nuzzled your skin gently, littering sleepy kisses over your back. His hands shamelessly started wandering along your body, quickly finding and settling on your breasts, squeezing them gently.

🎨 "Good morning?" you chuckled lightly, not minding the needy fondling. "It is a good morning," he answered, his grin audible in his words, his hands squeezing your mounts again as if agreeing to his statement.

🎨 "Stop that," you giggled, trying to wiggle away from him - unsuccessfully. He deliberately pinned you down with a chuckle, his lips attacking your shoulder and neck. "Why would I? The noises you make are just so cute~"

🎨 He was relentless in his attacks, his kisses turning sultrier and sloppier with every passing minute. "Say," he groaned, pressing his hips against your behind lustfully, "this is not just a vivid dream, is it? And last night..."

🎨 You hummed in pleasure, thinking about the passionate moments you two had shared. "I don't think so," you answered with a light smirk, finally able to roll onto your back. He was above you immediately, his eyes filled with need and longing, as if he was still not sure if you were really there or just a cruel trick his mind was playing on him.

🎨 His lips found yours in a sweet kiss, filled with adoration and gentleness. He looked down at you again before stealing another kiss - the second of many many more that day.

🐦‍⬛ Usually, Sylus was a night-owl, and sleeping during the day. However, after your first time making love... he couldn't bring himself to leave the bed, and so he found himself between the sheets, with you in his arms. His fingers drew lazy patterns into your skin absentmindedly.

🐦‍⬛ Your head rested on his chest as you snoozed peacefully, fully content and safe in his strong and warm embrace. He was so sweet. So gentle. So loving. And now, with the way he held you, sleep had a tight grip on you. You refused to wake up and leave your cocoon of warmth and comfort.

🐦‍⬛ Eventually though, your mind was slowly pulled back to reality, your lids fluttering a few times as you woke up. "Good morning, kitten," he whispered, his deep voice filling the silence in the best way possible. You looked up at him slowly, only then realizing that he was, in fact, still there with you.

🐦‍⬛ "Morning..." you mumbled, rubbing your eyes gently. "Don't you have work...?" You yawned, propping yourself up slowly to look down at him. Sylus shrugged in response, a small smirk playing on his lips. "I can leave, if you want."

🐦‍⬛ You frowned and snuggled back into his side. "No," you said firmly, wrapping yourself around him slowly. "I was just confused for a second."

🐦‍⬛ He chuckled a bit, wrapping his arms around your form again. "That's what I thought," he smiled, kissing your forehead gently. "Luke and Kieran can deal with whatever's going on today. I'm not leaving this bed until you kick me out."

🐦‍⬛ You quirked a brow, grinning slightly. "Is that a promise?" you asked, nuzzling his neck gently before placing a kiss on his skin, right where his pulse was thrumming. Sylus hummed deeply and closed his eyes, pushing his head back and exposing his neck to you and your advances. You grinned and nibbled his skin, carefully at first... but it didn't take long for you to full-on attack his neck with kisses and love-bites. "Kitten," he droned, rolling onto his back with you on top of him, "I hope you intend to finish what you started."