#tw. somnophilia

[m-ayo-o]

Thinking of sleeping next to your husband Kento, feeling needy and horny

Grinding your ass back on him, where he's resting behind you, you feel the bulge in his loose shorts.

"uuh-" you start whimpering in your sleep, with your pussy starting to throb and trickle over your panties.

The little moaning noises you're making and the way your plush ass is rubbing on his cock rouses your husband from his dreams.

And he finds you, flushed and hot, worked up and sooo sleepy.

He sees the look of agitation on your face, like you can't quite get what you want.

"shh," he comforts you, stroking your hair, "shh, sweetheart, let me make it better"

Slipping your panties aside, he pulls down his shorts and starts rubbing you with the head of his cock.

Right where you need it.

Your body responds, letting out a relieved sigh as your face gets that beautiful peaceful expression.

"is that what you want, honey?" He murmurs, his voice deep with sleep, while you're not fully awake yourself.

"mmmh mm--" this is one amazing dream.. your mind can't quite figure out if it's real, but you nod and moan and push back on him like the neediest little thing.

"adorable" he kisses the back of your neck and takes your hips in his hands, pushing his cock into you slowly.

"kenn- Kento~" your body starts to wake up with the feeling of being filled.

"keep going.. please.."

"shh, I've got you, sweetheart," he coos in your ear, "just relax and let me take care of you"

[konigsblog]

TW: NON-CON, SOMNOPHILIA, AFAB!F!READER. 18+

Somnophilia with König (🌽 link)

König is a man with needs. He can't go without your sweet, loveable cunt for longer than a day otherwise he's left sexually frustrated and pent up. Your adorable pussy is a coping mechanism for his frustrations and trauma, an outlet for his pleasure, anger, and sadness.

You looked tempting while asleep in bed. König admired the relaxed and calm expression on your face, what he was about to disturb due to his own selfishness. He unfastened his belt slowly, rubbing the your glistening cunt in small circles. You were a fool to fall asleep naked in bed knowing how horny he becomes at the sight of you. it seems that you haven't learnt from your mistake, Engel. He couldn't help himself, he just hopes that you'll understand his desires.

Each thrust feels heavenly. König is left in a state of delirium and confusion as he ruts into your drooling pussy. His fingers grip your hair tightly and angle your face so that he can watch out for discomfort, towering above your bent over figure while carefully watching your facial expressions. He grits his teeth at the tightness of your pulsing walls, cursing himself for being so cruel. “I’m so sorry, Mäuschen. You know I can’t help myself, I’m a pervert” Guilt washes over König who lowers his head in shame as he ploughs his swollen cock into your folds selfishly, too depraved to stop himself.

You're tighter when you're sleeping, it's something he's noticed. You're unaware of how often this happens, how repetitive it is for König. He can't seem to pull out as he continues, growing addicted to the gummy feeling of your insides and the warm slick coat left dripping for his aching dick.

“You’re so adorable, little mouse. Your body knows that it belongs to me, even when you’re asleep.”

[rinhaler]

sucking on toji’s thumb while he cuddle fucks you to sleep, and in the morning you wake up after cock warming him all night to his raging morning wood 🫢

stoppppp

can you imagine how hard he'd fuck you the next day too? he'd probably wake up with blurred vision, grunting as he gets used to being awake and wondering why he's so turned on until he remembers who's sleeping soundly beside him.

he looks down at how the duvet pitches like a tent, how last night it had fit so snuggly in your warm, wet walls before he drifted off and began to toss and turn in his sleep.

he'd roll onto his side, kiss along your bare skin. a lazy attempt of waking you up before he buries his cock into you again, you won't mind. he'll make you both feel good, you'll wake up moaning because there's no better way to wake up.

his heavy breaths in your ear have you stirring awake, confused, but more than happy to let him use you to take care of his little huge problem. his tip knocking against your cervix with minimal effort, he grunts your name as he realises you've woken up.

endless praise and adoration spills from his lips as he chases his release, 'good morning pretty girl, mmpf, you're so tight f'me. gonna breed this pretty pussy, let daddy get off jus' like this.'

[eddiemunsonsmum]

Eddie loves morning sex. The kind of groggy, sloppy sex that comes with being half asleep. Both eyes closed, in an out of the dream realm. Sensation, the only thing in the room. No thoughts behind actions other than wanting to feel each other.

It starts with innocent shifting. Hands pulling and repositioning. His morning wood brushing up against your thigh in a way that feels so delicious to his sleep-addled mind. Hands go from pulling and shifting to grabbing and holding. He has handfuls of you and now he's grinding lazily against your core. Your hands are moving too because he's squeezing and moaning and he’s so hot in all the right places.

Before you know it, he’s pressing into you and you are so wet and ready for him. It doesn’t take long until he’s coming undone. His face hiding in your neck as he huffs and bucks against you at an uneven pace. His tip grinding against your insides and dragging you closer to release with every thrust. His thumb lazily circling your clit. Speeding up with his own stuttered movements as he hurdles towards climax. His hips stammering as he tries desperately to get you there before him but he’s sleepy and he's losing the battle.

A long, lazy moan emanates from somewhere deep inside your gut as you reach your peak. Floating along the rolling waves of pleasure and feeling Eddie falter.

He lets out a low groan that vibrates against your collarbone as he cums hard, burying himself to the hilt and trembling through his release. Your body milking him of every drop.

You're both still. Bodies humming with post sex hormones that help you drift back off to sleep. Waking up a few hours later after the best nap of your lives and wondering if it actually happened or if it was all a dream.

[angelyuji]

yandere stanley and stanford pines somno thoughts :)

18+!!!

tw // somnophilia, noncon, dubcon, drugging, pls lmk if i missed any tags

sorry there’s a read more link, this one is a little intense so… mind the tws and tags pls🥰🥰

stan is not sneaky or quiet going into your room. he thinks he’s being quiet, but he’s not. after a couple times, he stops bothering. like it clicked for him that it doesn’t matter if you do wake up cuz either way you’re in his home and there’s no way out. no amount of screaming will save you either, like the shack is out in the woods.

the first time wasn’t on purpose, it was a heatwave and stan woke up around 2 am not being able to go back go sleep in the heat. sooo he goes to ur room to check on you, yk to see if you’ve fallen asleep yet or if ur awake like him. he’d go into your room and see the 4 different standing fans he bought for you turned on, and also see that you’re only sleeping in your underwear. the heat was killing you, so obviously you had to strip. immediately stan’s next to your bed, hand slowly messaging your naked chest. you moan a little in your sleep and stan takes that as a sign that you’re literally begging for him. like moaning??? in your sleep??? ok SLUT. same thing next evening, except stan goes farther. and like he’s been out of the game for so long yk so he’s just curious. and like it’s not his fault you were tempting him, he’s an old man. he takes a couple risks: kissing you, pushing a couple fingers into your mouth or hole to see how much of him you could take. by day 3, he’ll see that your body is being conditioned to respond to his touch and he’s actually gonna lose it.

your eyes flutter open, a moan falling from your lips, as you feel something press against your heat. “hey there, dollface.” stan grins at you and you jolt awake, trying to move away.

“stan, don’t! get-”

stan grabs your waist and pulls you back, cutting you off, “no point in trying to run, baby.” he flips you over, pushing your face into the pillow. he gets to his knees and pushes into you, stopping to feel the melting heat.

“s-stan p-please” you moan, muffled by the pillow.

“please what, sugar.” stan grins as you try to move your hips. he grabs a fistful of your hair, making you arch to look at him.

“please, please keep going”

ford is the sorta the opposite of stan like he couldve been doing this to you for months and you wouldve never known. like he definitely crushes up some sleeping pills into your food when you’re not looking. he knows what he’s doing is wrong and knows he should stop, but he can’t help it, you’re just so beautiful.

i feel like first time it happened, it was probably when you fell asleep in his lab. you had stayed with him to do some research and when you fell asleep, he decided to carry you to bed. the warmth of your body against his was enough to get him flustered, but when he laid you down, he took the opportunity to press a kiss to your mouth. and dude… he was immediately devastatingly horny like one kiss almost took him out. he definitely booked it out of your room out of embarrassment (even though you weren’t conscious to see) after this, he didn’t make eye contact with you or talk to you for a couple days. you end up confronting him about it and instead of telling you his feelings, he decided that he should just drug you to keep using you without having to vulnerable.

i feel like every time he does this, even if you’re not awake, he’s apologizing to you and making sure that you cum too. like he feels sooo bad for doing this to you, but like the guilts not gonna stop him. the only reason you ever realized is cuz he fucked up on the pills and you woke up to him pounding into you like a rabbit.

“f-ford, get off me.” you could feel every inch of him as he held you close. you try to push him off you, but instead he folds you in half, legs hooking his shoulders.

in this position, you could hardly think or breathe, he went deep and hard into you. as he gets quicker, he starts to mumble into your ear, “i can’t stop, i-i’m sorry, i’m s-so sorry.” he bites into your shoulder and you moan. “you just feel so good.”

for both ford and stan, once you wake up to them using you and you end up not telling anyone what happened, they’ll take that as a green light to keep doing this to you. and then it evolves from at night while you’re sleeping to the afternoon in a public mall bathroom.

(i kinda want to write about that now… but also… tutor!ford x reader… stan x babysitter!reader… im thinking thoughts…)

[joelsdagger]

intermission || joel miller x f!reader

shout out to @dinandwhiskey for feeding into my delusions for this one and to @skrunkly-scrimblo for the beta <33

pairing: daddy dom!joel miller x f!reader summary: movie night with joel doesn’t go to plan, or joel fucks your mouth while you’re sleeping. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ rating: 18+ MDNI warnings: [No Outbreak], established relationship, age gap [reader is 24, joel is late 50’s] , dd/lg dynamics, daddy kink, somnophilia [no explicit consent in this fic but she’s cool with it, therefore dubcon], oral [m receiving], face fucking, deepthroating, finger sucking, praise kink, pet names [little bug, little angel, baby, the works lol], references to tummy bulge, references to unprotected p in v sex, mentions of creampies, cum eating, reader can be carried [tho in my mind joel is huuuuuge so size kink as well], Joel’s POV. word count: 2.3k a/n: happy father’s day (iykyk) :3

series masterlist | masterlist | ao3 | playlist

dividers by @saradika-graphics

He shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. 

I don’t fall asleep during movies, daddy, you had sassed him. 

Whatever you say, little bug. 

That was an hour ago and now you’re resting your pretty little head against his belly, your hand tucked beneath your head. You look so peaceful. So pretty. So soft. So – pliant. 

He really shouldn’t. 

But then your hand slips from under your head and falls to rest a hair's breadth away from his clothed cock, it jumps in his sweats. You’ve practically pavloved him to react like that with just a mere graze of your fingertips. 

“You got no idea what you do to me, sweet girl, drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy over here,” his voice a low rasp, reaching for your fingers and gently pulling them from his lap, squeezing your fingertips twice before resting them atop his thigh. 

You’re completely limp, deep in your sleep and Joel is unable to control himself.

He snatches up the remote, hastily turns down the TV, shoves his gray sweats down to the middle of his thighs and frees his semi-hard cock. He wraps a hand around the base, gives it a firm tug, and rests the tip of his length on your lips.

He stills and swallows hard. He shouldn’t do this. He can’t do this, it feels selfish to take what he’s been desperately wanting from you — for the better part of an hour — when you’re unable to respond. He should wake you. 

But then, almost as if you’ve made the decision for him; your lips part and a soft moan releases from you, mmm, daddy. His cock twitches against your lips, opaque droplets already gathering at the slit. Your lips stay parted and the glistening tip slips between your plush lips. 

“Fuck– ” He groans at the sensation, eyes rolling back into his head, hand flying up to the back of yours, cradling your skull in an attempt to anchor himself as he slowly rolls his hips up into you. He stiffens fully at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth around him. It feels fucking incredible. 

How the hell did he get here? A rare lazy sunday night with you on his lap, taking a man almost three times your age in between your lips, letting him use you in your sleep. 

He remembers first laying eyes on you. You showed up on his porch one night, not too long ago, with sparkling eyes and a shy smile on your face. He didn’t even hear what you had said to him, too distracted by the soft skin of your exposed thighs just below the hem of your pale pink dress — barely covering the plump shape of your ass — and the flow of your hair as a wave of muggy summer heat swept past. He thinks it was something about the leftover cake from your birthday. He only guessed that from the sad, fat square slice of funfetti birthday cake held up in a flimsy paper plate before him, the letters jaggedly cut down the middle of the celebratory phrase.

Joel is a strong man; at least that’s what he tells himself. He knew you were too young for him. The split letters that barely spelled out twenty-four on your birthday cake told him as much. Trouble, he’d muttered. He still mumbles that occasionally when you push his buttons, though hours later, he often finds himself burying his length deep inside of you, tears pricking your eyes while he stretches your needy cunt.

But then you glanced up at him with wide, curious eyes and flashed him a big, toothy smile — the prettiest little thing he’s seen in all his long, hard years — and he cracked; his cement walls came crumbling down. He brought you inside his home, into his too-small bed, and fucked you until you cried, until you asked him for a break only to climb on top of him minutes later, begging him to feed you his cock again.

His cock pulses on your tongue at the memory, your voice high-pitched as you cried, Daddy, please, I want it. And Joel couldn’t resist his special girl. How could he? When you softly gasped into his mouth as he pushed the blunt head of his cock past your puffy folds — nuzzling in and making a home for himself — where he belongs. Your warm, drooling cunt sucking him in to the hilt, sheathing the entirety of his hard length inside your messy little pussy. 

Joel is a strong man, but not when it comes to you. 

Please, please, I need to feel it inside me. All the way up here, daddy, you whined, one hand gliding up your belly, the other fisting the fabric of your lace-trimmed dress. He just couldn’t resist you. So he fucked you and fucked you deep, until he was in the soft pouch of your tummy and poking through from the other side, just as you had asked of him. He fucked you full of his spend, until your poor, tiny hole couldn’t take any more of his cum. 

He’d damn himself to hell before he’d refuse you. He only hopes you don’t deny him if you wake. 

His deft, roughened fingers brush the hair out of your face before settling his hand back on your head. He sits up and leans over; marveling at the stretch of your lips around him, sweat beginning to pool at the nape of his neck and the corners of his temples. 

He feels filthy. A dirty old man. He’s never taken you like this before. But it doesn’t feel wrong. He’s only missing those pretty sounds you make —

You stir and let out a soft moan around him. Sweet Jesus, there you go. Your head dips lower down his belly, nestling more of his length into your hot mouth. Atta fuckin’ girl. Let me in, baby. Open up real big for daddy. 

“Such a naughty little thing, lettin’ me fuck your throat while you’re sleepin’, just needed to be full o’me huh?” He whispers softly, and at that, you hum. Joel can’t help when he bucks up into your mouth in response, saliva pouring past your lips and onto his graying pubic hair. 

“Fuck, baby, you like gettin’ daddy all messy? Like chokin’ on daddy’s big cock?” He taunts, a grin tugging on his face. 

Once again, as if you can hear him, you hum. 

You’re so damn responsive. Or maybe you just like having his dick in your mouth.  

“Fuck, yeah, you do,” he pants, his voice strained with restraint. His free hand glides down to the swell of your ass — the softest skin he thinks he’s ever felt — and hikes up the frilly hem of those pink sleep shorts that he likes a little too much — the ones speckled with tiny red hearts — over one cheek, grabs a handful of your plush flesh, and squeezes. You moan, and Joel feels your tongue twitch, feather-like, beneath the heavy weight of his cock, then pressing up against the thick, pulsing vein on the underside of his shaft. He bites down on his lip to muffle the loud moan that sneaks past his lips, the back of his head hitting the couch behind him. 

“Goddamnit, takin’ me so damn well, even in your sleep, such a good fuckin’ girl,” he babbles, his eyes shut tight as he revels in the feeling of himself in your mouth, the action movie silently playing on the screen flashes against his eyelids, measured shaky breaths escaping him. The strong hand on your head easing you lower and lower to take more of him, your lips now grazing the drool drenched hair at his base.  

Your mouth feels like velvet around him — warm and soft and so perfect that his hips cant upwards unconsciously, the pace of his thrusts increasing. He’s losing himself in the haze of his fast-approaching release, a deep-seated tension building in his gut, teetering on the edge until—

You splutter around him and Joel’s head snaps up to peer down at you, your eyelids flutter open against the soft glow of the television.

“Shit, baby. ‘M sorry,” he rasps and quickly retracts his hand from your head. Yet, you don’t pull yourself off him, instead you curl your weak fingers into his thigh. You don’t want him to stop. 

“You want me to keep going?” He asks gruffly, he knows you can take him, you’ve done it countless times since you have met. He’s trained you well. Yet, he needs to be certain he’s not reaching your limit. 

You drag your lips off his cock, an obscene wet slurping sound fills the too still air, letting off him with a pop and maneuvering yourself to sit up on your knees. “Yes, please daddy,” your voice still thick with sleep, peering up at him with an innocence to your needy gaze; a mixture of drool and precum coating your pouty lips. 

“Christ,” he mutters, under his breath. Such a pretty fuckin’ sight. One he reckons he’ll never get tired of seeing. He can’t deny you. Not when you look at him like that. 

“Okay, baby, here,” he murmurs, his hand retakes its place on the back of your head, guiding you toward his aching cock, your lips latch onto the fat head — all angry and red — and he inhales a shuddery breath as he watches your face contort at the stretch of him in your mouth. 

Your tongue flattens underneath him and he presses himself deeper into your willing mouth, filling you up and messaging the walls of your throat with the wide head of his cock. 

His grip in your hair tightens and a low groan rumbles in his throat, “There you go, baby, hold still.”  

Fucking hell. He could keep you here forever. 

“So goddamn pretty like this, baby,” Joel grits, “Love havin’ your mouth stuffed full o’ my cock, huh?” 

You make a low muffled sound around the length of his cock.

“S’right, you do,” he answers for you.  

His free hand trails down the length of your body, instinctively gripping the meat of your ass, dull fingernails digging into your skin, just barely grazing your puckered hole. You whine around him, the vibrations from your throat has him flexing his fingers your hair in response, and with shallow, quick thrusts of his hips, he fucks himself into your mouth. 

Fresh tears begin to sprout in your eyes as you gulp hard, your throat constricting around him. Joel feels his throbbing tip choked tight at the small opening at the back of your throat. The warm walls of your throat so tight — so good for him — the muscles in his belly tighten, and the hand on your ass is quick to join the other on your head, gripping your skull. “Shit— that’s it, angel. M’comin’.” His dick pulsates on your tongue, and a loud, guttural groan spills from him as hot, thick spurts of his cum coat your throat. His hand holds you there, firmly pressing your mouth flush to his spit-smeared balls. He feels you swallow around him again, and he whines quietly. The muscles in his jaw go slack, and his head falls back onto the couch while he lazily thrusts upwards, his leaking head bruising the back of your throat as he empties the last of himself into your mouth and filling your belly, his chest heaving from exertion.

He lifts his head when he feels you pull off him; you cough softly against him, the warmth of your breath brushes against his now softening cock, and his hooded gaze meets the sight of a thin string of saliva and cum dribbling from your wet, puffy lips, tears dripping from the corner of your eyes and down your cheeks. “Oh, c’mere, little bug, lemme see.” 

Just as he taught you, you plant a small, wet kiss on each of his heavy balls. Joel sighs through his nostrils. Fuck. What did he do to deserve you? You’re too good for him. You scoot over to sit up in his lap. Joel feels the slick between your legs through your tiny shorts when you press against his soft cock. He lets out a little groan; if he hadn’t just come, he’d be getting hard at the sensation.

His hand reaches to grip your jaw, angling your face up as you present him with your open mouth, the corners of his lips twitch at the sight of the walls of your little throat; empty, swollen, and used. 

“My filthy girl, you did so good f’me,” he cooes, coaxing away your tears and swiping your glistening lips clean. He pushes the pad of his thumb — covered in slobber and cum — into your mouth and presses it onto your tongue. Your wet eyes lock with his as you enthusiastically suck his thumb clean. 

Man alive. Maybe you’ll damn him to hell.

You release his thumb and giggle, biting your lip and smiling up at him dreamily. “Thank you, daddy, I liked it,” you rasp quietly. 

“Yeah?” He breathes, both of his hands on either side of your face, thumbs stroking your wet cheeks. 

Your wide, glassy eyes meet his gaze, “I like when you do things that make you feel good, it makes me feel good,” your voice hoarse and small, fingers toying with the collar of his t-shirt.

“Well – you always make daddy feel good, little angel,” he praises, leaning forward to lay a long kiss to your forehead that elicits a breathy sigh from you, your eyelids fluttering closed. 

“You tired, baby?” He whispers, tucking your soft hair behind your ear, fingers stroking down your hair and twirling the end of the gathered strands between his fingers.   

You yawn quietly and give him a slow, small nod, a sleepy smile to your face as you sink down in his lap, your weeping cunt throbbing against him. He’ll play with your perfect little pussy in the morning. Maybe your other little hole too. 

He chuckles at that. “Alright, little bug...” he starts, tucking his soft cock back into his sweats. He scoops you up into his arms; his weak, achy knees pop, and a low grunt spills from him as he stands, “Bedtime.”

[viviaj]

its 6:57 in the morning and you can vaguely feel kuroo’s cock pressing against you.

with his hand pressed against your soft stomach, he silently presses against your back. you’re not really awake, but you’re not exactly asleep either.

kuroo loves morning sex, he likes to feel you and hear your whiny sounds as your eyes struggle to adjust to the early light— as they adjust to him intruding your peaceful sleep.

he’s a pervert, he thinks for a moment; wanting to press his fingers into you while you’re barely awake. he thinks he should feel guilty, but you always react so dubiously that he can’t help himself.

with his cock still rubbing against you methodically, he reaches for your little shorts and slips his hand down to your soft sweet cunt.

he runs his hand over your thighs, and every part where you connect with him. it’s not enough.

he’s slipping a hand between your folds, gently feeling you. there was no intent to get you off; just a pure moment of wanting to feel you and touch you. he slips a single finger into you and its him groaning into your shoulder.

“baby?” he murmurs against you and a small noise comes from the back of your throat, “you’re so soft,” you can hear the smile in his voice.

“i have to, baby,” he’s sitting up and gently prying your legs apart, “i have to put my cock in you baby, okay?”

he’s not really asking, more so just letting you know. he’s not wearing a condom.

your body twitches up into him as he enters you, just letting himself feel around you. your hands move up to his arms as you murmur that he “shouldn’t”.

“i don’t see you making much of an effort to stop me,” and you just let yourself whine, eyes pressed closed as kuroo is everywhere on you.

“but we shouldn’t, kuroo, we can’t,” he thinks it’s funny when you act like this because as soon as he takes his cock out, you’ll whine and groan, just like you are now. you’re so predictable.

so he does that. he moves down to your neck, kissing you lightly over, and over again. “just the tip, please. please?” you’re begging, just like he knew you would. he loves you.

“oh? just the tip?” you nod quickly, “okay baby, just the tip.”

it is not just the tip.

with one hand, he’s holding your legs up; giving himself the world-class view of watching his cock disappear into your pretty pussy.

you’re breathtaking like this. smooth, and sweet and pretty. he can’t help himself, and how could you even blame him? not when he’s so close to you, and so sweet to you as he’s smiling down at your batting eyes.

“what is it? talk to me, baby,” no words come out, just a soft hiccup coming from your lips. “you don’t have to do anything, you’ve done enough,” his eyes soften with the softness in his smile; which do not correspond to the way hes moving in and out of you.

kuroo and you have never fucked without a condom before, and it shows. it feels so intensely different, with the knowledge that this is something you shouldn’t be doing, it’s explosive.

“gonna cum in you, yeah? just let me take care of you.”

“kuroo, we- we can’t, we shouldn’t,” you’re pathetically murmuring, hips moving up towards him. everything you’re saying is contradicting your actions, it’s silly.

“okay baby, yeah, i won’t, dont worry, ” kuroo lies. with your face buried into his neck, you mouth at the skin there, unable to say much.

he tells you how good you feel, how your cunt is so soft and he just can’t help it.

“you’re so warm,” you whine into him, the feeling of him cumming in you foreign, it doesn’t feel right.

kuroo reaches down to kiss you wherever he can manage to reach you, his arms keeping you where you are.

“good morning.”

[writers-advocate]

thoughts on old man!logan because he deserves more love [tw: somnophilia]

old man!logan who has no idea really how he managed to score someone like you

old man!logan who tried to scare you off for ages, caving almost instantly when he gets that first taste of your soft lips

old man!logan who has learned to let you help with the claws because if you ever have a temper, it’s when he doesn’t let you take care of him

old man!logan who, despite “knowing” you deserve better, loves just how sweet you are to an “old dog” like him

old man!logan who finds himself looking forward to coming home to you at the end of each day. who pictures you in nothing but one of his t-shirts and can almost feel your soft skin under his rough hands instead of the worn steering wheel

old man!logan who finds you practically asleep, waiting up for him on the couch exactly as described. your arms circle around his neck loosely and you press sleepy kisses to his throat when he carries you to your shared bed

old man!logan who has to nearly coo to you because you whine when he gently pulls your arms from around him so he can go clean up

old man!logan who holds you to his chest while you sleep, like he’s shielding you from the world that’s already taken so much from him

old!man logan whose bones are just so tired

old man!logan who still wants to make his pretty young thing feel good. who more often than not, has his eyes open by the time the sun peeks through the edges of the curtains and relies on your much easier sleep to last while he moves

old man!logan who thinks he’s already gone to heaven when he settles between your thighs and lifts the hem of his your t-shirt above your hips, already drunk off your heady scent he’s been drowning in since last night

old man!logan who starts off so slow, tongue gently trailing up to your clit just to taste you

old man!logan who wraps his lips around your clit like his favorite candy because you are, but he doesn’t stay for long, pulling back to press gentle kisses over the sensitive nub instead. he didn’t have this restraint when he was younger. we’ll see how long it lasts now

old man!logan who manages not to wake you for the first hour but your sleepy moans and soft keens as you lazily squirm in the sheets, eyes still closed but now squeezed in your sleep, drive him insane. next thing either of you knows, his arms have your thighs locked in on either side of his head and he’s making out with your messy cunt like he’ll never see you again

old man!logan who spends the first hours of your morning between your legs until you’re crying and trembling, begging him for you don’t even know what anymore

old man!logan who simply reaches up to curl his hand over your smaller one to ground you

old man!logan whose bones may be tired, but he’ll never leave his angel unsatisfied

[sunniepoo]

your roommate never knew when to keep his hands off, even when you were asleep

cw: dubcon, somno, dark!jj

jj knew what he was doing was disgusting, he knew that it was pervy and creepy and gross and every name under the sun for just straight up wrong. it’s not that he didn’t feel bad but the pleasure and satisfaction he gained every night, jerking off into his hand with the image of you naked, with the pellets of water trickling down you wore greater than his conscious

when you’d moved in,a couple months ago, there was a silent reminder in his head to not scare you away or push any boundaries but he couldn’t help but have a slight inkling that you wanted him to prey, you wanted him to push and play to his limit. the way you would leave your panties laying out on the floor, it was like you wanted him to pick them up and fist them around his dick, inevitably cumming into them

or how you’d shower with the door open just enough so he could see the outline of your tits through the foggy shower door. he knew he sounded like a perv when ranting on about it to the brunette boy, hands flailing about, mumbling about how ��she’s gotta be doing it on purpose…i mean - wh-why else” earning a questionable stare from john b who scoffs out about him being a full on classic creep

it was so so conflicting, he knew he shouldn’t - you were probably just being naive, your usual sweet mindset blurring the sultryness within your actions but he couldn’t help but use your actions as justification for what he was doing. you would’ve said something by now id it bothered you, right?

but it wasn’t always weird,there were quiet domestic moments aswell, like tonight.

the loud rumble of thunder was enough to make you squeal eliciting a soft laugh from the blonde in front of you, who continued to stuff food in his mouth “jayyy” the slight tease in your whine was impossible to miss as the word left your mouth “lets sleep together tonight” you ask, eyes opened wide and focused on him, leaving him to struggle to understand the meaning behind the question

“what” the blonde in front deadpans, ears in disbelief of what he’s hearing - mind already rushing to the stickiest of ickys

“just hate storms and m’gonna not be able to sleep” you respond and as the words fall from your mouth, his figure visibly relaxes as soon as he hears the nonchalance in your voice in your words - god he has to get his head out of the gutter!

“right-right…uhh yeah- i mean i don’t mind” he rambles, struggling to hide the rising pink in his cheek aswell as the rising boner in his pants. it was going to be so so so hard to behave well when you’d be right next to him, your pretty pussy just a couple inches away, how was he supposed to resist himself

“thanks jay’ make sure not to kick” you giggle before pressing a light kiss to the side of his cheek, continuing to walk off towards the bathroom. he couldn’t describe the feeling in his stomach as he watched you, excitement? guilt? shame? whatever it was, it had to be pushed down until the late night dawned upon the both of you - when he’ll find out how bad he can really be

the sight of you softly snoring in his bed, arms tucked beneath your head as you curled away from the wall, would have been cute if it wasn’t for the raging boner that poked through his boxers. you’d hit the sack quite early leaving jj and his twisted mind alone, jerking off in the shower of all the lewd fantasies stored in his head.

he wouldn’t. he couldn’t. that’s what the blonde repeated in his head as he rest beside you, keeping some distance between the two of you, trying to close his eyes and sleep - hoping his mind could clear before the morning. his large figure slowly relaxed, slowly drifting to sleep. and that’s when he felt it your leg carelessly shifting underneath the covers, grazing against his dick, making it jump.

he was convinced. you were doing it on purpose, you had to be. but when he saw your limp body, pressed against the bed, dead to the world around you, he couldn’t help but groan. what if you were truly so naive that all your actions were done out of pure thoughtlessness, he’d be disgusting- you’d probably never want to speak to him again

but it was getting impossibly hard to ignore your foot dancing around his already hard cock leading a soft groan from him. the call of your name from him falls on deaf ears as you continue to sleep, not aware of the turmoil you’re causing him. ‘god m’going to hell” he whispers to himself as he shifts closer, forehead hovering over yours

he wished he could blame it on something like he’d drunk to much or that he was high out of his mind, but he wasn’t - the only drug that consumed him was the presence of you, clouding his every thought and action. the long strand of blonde that kissed his forehead now grazed against yours as his fingers traced down the length of your body, dipping between your legs, rubbing against your clothed mound.

the heat between your legs was enough to warm him on the unseasonably cold night, thumb stroking against your clit causing you to shift. he panicked for a second, taking your stirring as a sign of you waking up but he was wrong. you were moving because you liked it - he watched as your mouth parted softly, a soft whimper filling the air as you continued to squirm beneath him

it didn’t take long before he slipped your panties off, throwing them to some corner of the room - careful not to wake you. he watched as you writhed at the feel of the cool air breezing against your bare pussy, fingers having a mind of their own as they pushed into you. god you were so tight, he could feel the ache in his pants as he continued to thrust his finger into you. he couldn’t help but watch your eyebrows raise, mouth opening to let out an inaudible moan “m’sorry so so sorry” he heaved out, before adding another finger, watching you hiss at the intrusion.

you were making a mess on his hand and between your legs with each thrust of his and all he could think was how good you were taking it, wondering what noises you’d be making if you were awake - would you grab at his wrist and make him slow down if he went too fast? would you reach down and rub your aching clit?would you whine at him to stop?

he felt a sudden urge, he wanted to kiss you. he wanted to feel your lips against his as he curled his fingers that were wedged deep inside you. he moved even closer, dipping his head down, pressing a sloppy kiss against your lips as he thrust his fingers harshly in you making you all putty in his arms

it was rough the way he pulled out, fingers resting against your thighs but he was desperate, his cock had been painfully poking against the fabric of his shorts waiting for some sort of stimulation. it was bad, it was so so bad but what was worse was that he stopped caring,it was a need to feel your gummy walls sucking you in, to watch your face contort into a mixture of pain and pleasure as he slams into you

you’d understand right? i mean you had to with the way you’d tortured him for so long, how you’d walk around wearing next to nothing or how you’d rub up against him. he remembers wanting nothing more than to bend you over the nearest surface and dick you down like the good little whore you were but how could he, you weren’t a whore - far from it actually, you were his sweet little angel that he wanted to corrupt, the little lamb that the big bad wolf wanted to bite into

he spent every minute trying to savour this moment, slowly pulling of his boxers throwing them next to your panties - making a mental note to take them later. he wished he could’ve been gentle and soft and sweet but he didn’t have it in him that night, he wanted you to feel the ache he’s been feeling.

the whine that left your mouth was loud as the blonde slammed into you, stilling with his movement - soaking in the feel of your velvety walls wrapped around him that left him wanting to paint your insides with his cum.shocked at your still state, deep sleeper he thought- who knows maybe he can have more fun

for a minute he stayed stilled feeling every pulse or clench of your little pussy, he was disgusting! but he didn’t care, what he cared about was how your face would look like when you cum? how you’d look like when you wake and see the pool of white between your legs? that was enough for him to begin drilling his cock into you, the once silent room being filled with his low groans and the sound of skin slapping

“so good f’me… huh?” he breathed out “wanna cum so-fuck so-deep inside you….fill you with all my babies” his pace didn’t falter as you’d tossed against him, body shocked by the harsh and sudden intrusion. his right hand travelled down from the side of your hips to your bright red clit, pinching it softly causing your brows to furrow

“sorry baby…. just needed to do that” he laughed out, head falling down to the dip in your neck, breathing against the skin “fuck-” the blonde could feel his high coming close, he fastens his face getting ready to empty himself inside of you “fuck fuck fuck m’coming” the blonde curses, eyes screwed tightly as he spurts out a fat load inside you, moaning with every slight movement. he watched as you spasmed around him, your own high being provoked by his - he couldn’t miss the way your back slightly arched, he’d bet you were in heaven right now - well atleast he was

following a few sloppy thrusts, he flops against your sleeping body, looking up to see your face, god you looked so innocent! you hadn’t even known the way he’d violated you yet and something in him ached for you to find out, for you to wake up to the feel of his morning wood, throbbing inside of you and feel the sticky pool of cum that formed beneath you. and he couldn’t help but thrust deeper inside of you, chin resting against your head - slowly feeling his eyes close, he’ll deal with the aftermath in the morning but for now he wanted to sleep wedged inside you, sweaty bodies pressed together

[toxicanonymity]

that scream blurb that you posting about Ghostface being unconscious and the reader testing to see if he’s hard…. you have to make the full fic now pleaseee omg it was so good

Every inch

1.4k / m!ghostface x f!reader / from blurb.

SEQUELS | Slasher masterlist

Warnings/notes: I8+ noncon (ghostface unconscious) somnophilia. Based on the car scene from Scream II, but it's modern day (cell phones exist).  You can HC this as anyone but he's night walks coded if you read my other stuff.

Your skirt grazes his robe as you carefully stretch your right leg over the driver’s seat, trying not to touch him, trying not to wake him up.  It’s tricky crawling over Ghostface to get out of the car.  He smells faintly of weed and sweat.  You’ve never been close enough to smell him before. You’ve never been close to him at all for more than a few seconds, always with his knife in hand.  You hear him breathing behind the mask and assume he’s knocked out from the impact of the crash, but can't know for sure. 

He could be pretending for his own amusement, planning to taunt you then stab you at any moment. You’re going to have to open that car door sooner or later - it’s the only one left you haven’t tried.  It'll definitely make a noise. You hover there straddling him, delaying the inevitable. Straddling Ghostface, you think to yourself. Is this a nightmare? 

You slowly lower yourself into his lap, throbbing at the possibilities of what might await you.  Your heart pounds in your chest.  You put your hands on the edge of the seat to pull your body  closer and your heart nearly stops as  your inner thigh softly nudges  his hand.  But he doesn’t wake up – or if he does, he doesn’t show it.  Emboldened, you lower yourself a little more until your damp panties arrive at a warm bulge in his robe and your breath hitches.  He’s only somewhat hard,  but obviously packing.  He still doesn’t move.  His chest is rising and falling with his breaths.  You know he’s alive.  Unable to resist, you lower yourself a little more.  You tilt your hips and gently grind yourself against his package.  

What if the nightmare became a wet dream? It’s always turned you on, at least a little, but especially lately.  It’s been harder and harder to separate arousal from fear.  You’ve wondered if it was a sexual thing for him, the way he pursues you.  Stabbing is penetrative after all.  Does the thought of killing you turn him on? Would it turn him on to wake up to you straddling him?  After all, he’s only a man.  Why not, you think.  This could be your best chance to find out.  This might be the most power you’ll ever have in the situation.  You’re turned on thinking about it.  If you’re mere seconds from potential death, you have nothing to lose.  Plus you're curious what's under all this, and it's too risky to lift up his mask.

Fuck it feels good, and the fact that it’s Ghostface, the one who’s been stalking you, killing your friends, trying to kill you - that gives you such a rush.  The tables have turned.  You’re on top of him now.  You look around for his knife and it’s landed on the floorboard along with his voice changer.  You reach down to grab it then quickly stab it into the back of the driver’s seat at an angle so you can grab it if you need to but he won’t know where it is.  Then you return your crotch to his and a bolt of arousal slices through you when his hard package swells against you.  Holy shit he's hung. You slowly roll your hips against him, grinding into him, trying not to be too aggressive, but it’s hard to control yourself. 

-

His breathing changes and your heart jumps to your throat. You wonder, Is Ghostface seduceable? It might be your best shot if you're already getting his dick wet when he wakes up.  But there's always the chance he reacts violently, and now that you're up against him, it's clear you'd be no match for his strength.

Then you have a thought.  You carefully lift his gloved hand, and he doesn’t react.  You lift the dead weight of his heavy arm all the way above his mask, and he still just sits there, breathing.  You pin both his hands above his head, between the metal pegs of the headrest. His hands are large and the two of them together barely fit through the gap.  Then you slam down the headrest, pinning him there by his wrists.

His mask moves.  He seems to look at you.  Then a soft, low sigh.  You lower your crotch again and he’s harder.  You rub yourself against him slowly with your hands braced on the seat and have to stifle a moan in the shoulder of your dress as you grind against him and his cock swells even harder.  A soft groan muffled by his mask makes you wetter.  

You’re going to have to have him.  This is your chance and you can’t resist it.  Your inner thigh muscles begin to fatigue as you push yourself off his lap to hover again.  You lift up his robe, exposing PJ pants. Strange and not at all imposing, but convenient.  You arrange the robe behind his raging erection, then take a deep breath and pull down his waistband.  His stiff member stands at attention. You cover it with your warmth before the cool air wakes him up. A stab of desire shoots through your core as your wet panties meet his hard cock.  You rub yourself against him and your clit throbs.  Your core aches to be filled. 

You pull your panties to the side and nestle the swollen head of his cock at your entrance.  Then you sink down and fail to suppress your gasp at the stretch.  He moans but doesn’t move.  Your body makes way for him as you slide down and sheathe him entirely with your cunt.  His cock is nice and thick, it makes you feel so full.  It’s crazy this cock has been under the robe the entire time.  You wonder if you could just fuck from now on.  If he’d agree not to kill you - that is, if the threat of it doesn't turn him on.

You rise up, then sink down on him again, his size making you grateful for your ample wetness.  You lift and lower yourself and roll your hips into him. You try not to breathe too heavily as you feel it building in your lower belly.  You start to ride him less restrained, unable to resist fucking yourself on his nice, hard cock.  

-

His mask begins to move as though confused, and he grunts as he tugs at his arms,  unable to free them from the headrest.  He’s groggy and weak.  You’re not going to stop. You're too close to coming.  You greedily keep filling yourself to the brim with him.

His mask looks right at you. “Always wanted this cock,” ghostface says weakly, making your heart race.  “Knew it.”  Then it echoes from the voice changer on the floorboard.  Always wanted this cock.  Knew it.   He tugs at his hands more violently, then gives up.  

“Nasty girl,” he says, voice getting stronger.  Nasty Girl. 

He thrusts his hips up powerfully and you moan uninhibited. He thrashes his arms and stabs upward with his cock, bouncing you on his lap with the power of his hips.  Your whole body tingles and tenses, then you bite your own arm as your walls clamp down around him.  You come on his dick, then pull yourself off and he groans in frustration but has no way of getting you back.  

You open the car door and you’re torn about whether to make him come or leave him with blue balls.  You decide to jerk him off as a power move.  You kneel into the open door frame of the car.  You wrap your hand around his girth and fuck his fist.  “All ya had to do was ask,” he says.  All you had to do was ask.  You grab the voice changer and throw it down the street.  Now he's nothing but a man with his dick in your hand.

“Woulda given you every inch," he says. Maybe every inch of his blade.  He nods down to his crotch. "Now you know." His voice is coming back to full strength, smooth and low. It's a voice you can't quite place.

You know you should stab him while you have him tied down, but you're thinking with the wrong head now, unable to bear the thought of this cock going to waste. You slow your hand way down and edge him mercilessly.  His big, stiff cock twitches in your hand and you can tell he's dying for more.

You take your phone out of your bra and take a short video of him trying not to whimper, dick sprouting out of his unimposing pajama pants.  Then you finish him off and take a dick pic selfie with cum all over his robe.  You take the knife out of the back of the seat and leave him stuck in the car.

-

Thank you so much for reading and engaging. Even if you're reading this way later I would love to know your thoughts in a comment! Knowing what you liked helps me write more. 🖤🖤

[merakiui]

never-ending noctuary; love forevermore.

yandere!malleus draconia x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, somnophilia, non-con, overblot!malleus, obsession, breeding, baby-trapping, malleus is written to have two dicks, spoilers for part two of book seven note - and sitting powerful on his throne of thorns, omniscience at his fingertips, the lord of malevolence takes a bride.

An eerie, all-consuming quiet has fallen over Sage’s Island.

It is frigid and unfriendly like winter. Harsh and oppressive like silence. Painful and abrasive like brambles. Time has come to a swift halt here, and with it the people fall into never-ending euneirophrenia. Delights so dreamy shall inhabit the minds of all who sleep, the grandest gift granted to those unwilling. Like fate itself, wound around every living soul, it is inescapable. Inevitable like death—unfair and unforgettable.

But then it is also peaceful and secure. Quaint and warm like a blanket. Fluffy and floral like spring’s first kiss. Solace is far sweeter when spent in oneiric solitude, and so it will seem for one-thousand years. Forevermore, stretched taut into the future, the dream persists.

Is that not the best blessing? To those who wish to savor a fleeting moment just a second more, is this not a wish granted generously tenfold? Rather than immortalizing the past with photographs, it shall never come to pass. There is no need for bittersweet recollections or tearful farewells. The present will persevere, lived out in endless dreams.

Surely this is the correct course. Not just for Malleus, for he is a gentle, kind creature who recognizes the mutual desire for interminable merriment, but for the entirety of the island. Although in hoping for love forevermore, he has shackled himself to selfish, Epicurean pleasures. The type which normally lasts as long as a vision spent on cloud nine.

Currently, sitting proud and alone on a cold throne, Malleus knows of no greater joy.

The party may have fallen still as the grave, bodies slumbering in stiff propinquity, but it hasn’t finished. The food may have congealed, inedible and decaying, but it is there. A testament to spirits kept aloft, if only to ensure no one ever knows the desolation of endings.

Paradise is what you make of it. Thus, should you hope for it, you can walk on the clouds in your mind and never know of Icarus’s plights. You can shed insecurities and anxieties and taste delectable metamorphosis. You can be anyone and anything. You can be strong and wealthy. You can be fearless and heroic. You can be an impossible ideal.

You can be loved.

Malleus watches your seemingly lifeless form splayed on the sofa, limbs draped over that of Ace and Deuce. It’s a tranquil sight, a marionette freed from the strings of somber, suffocating life.

Under a roof of thorns, you are reborn.

Paradise is wondrous for Malleus, albeit a touch silent. He wonders what you might say if you were to stand at his side and observe this eternal slumber party. Would it fill you with awe? With appreciation? With abject terror?

Perhaps there is no use in theorizing. He doesn’t need to know, for you will love him even in sleep.

He rises, taking each step at a time. Thorny branches and roots part to make way for him, a groom traversing the aisle in search of his bride. You lie still, secrets sealed behind pretty, plush lips, and if he was not the cause for your current state he might assume you were late.

But there is no death here. It cannot reach. It will never reach because Paradise knows not of death or suffering.

Paradise is the garden before the infestation. Paradise is the body before bacterial devastation. Paradise is love before departed lamentation.

Malleus gazes at your restful face, leaning down to trace a clawed, blot-tainted finger along your cheek. There are no tears; you are a doll incapable of such sorrow, sculpted to portray perfect neutrality. He is most pleased with this development, his chest rumbling with a triumphant chuckle. Now you shall never know an ending ever again. Now you shall remain here, safe and stagnant in his arms, far from the mirror that may allow you to return home.

Gathering your body in his arms, he lifts you from the cushions. You crumble in his grasp, head lolling and arms noodling at your sides. Sagging dead weight, but he places his ear to your chest to listen to the melodic thrum of your heart. You’re alive, frailty shielded from the horrors of the world. Here, in thorny idyll, you will live forevermore.

Historically, all rulers must have someone to call their own. Whether it be by way of arrangement or convenience, strung together for the sake of conjoined power or out of obligation, this is an irrefutable fact. Historically, all rulers must bear an heir—someone to carry on the glory of an ever-present lineage.

Malleus refuses to bring a child into the world unless they are given the blessing of the one thing he was deprived of since birth.

A mother.

You fit in his embrace, a puppet tugged into a one-sided waltz. He steps over fallen bodies as he holds you against his chest, following the routine even though you aren’t awake to reciprocate.

Historically, a married pair must share the first dance. Or that’s what he’s read in fairy tales.

There are no rings here; promises are left unspoken. He won’t entertain rejection because there is no room for it in Paradise. Every unsavory, horrid thing—pestilence and pain, death and destruction, and sadness and sin—is packed away in Pandora’s box and shelved. Malleus won’t risk opening it to release the tiny shred of hope desperately clawing for escape. It’s not worth it.

He will foster his own hope if he must, and she exists in his arms—beautifully motionless.

The steps are executed with care, up the stairs and towards a lonesome chair. He attempts a twirl, lowering you into a dip. Your arms hang limply, eyes shut in permanence. Brimming with fondness, Malleus tugs you back up to press his lips to your forehead.

“Dearest one,” he mumbles, “may you know many fruitful fantasies in the arms of Morpheus.”

He reclaims his seat and situates you to face him while perched on his lap. You slump against him, near-boneless. He smiles at you, imagining the ruckus that would certainly come about from such a daring gesture. Sebek would squawk at you to have more respect and dignity. Silver would tut and shake his head. Lilia would look on in amusement.

These are small pleasantries, little wishes he hopes to witness someday.

Historically, a married pair must consummate their bond.

Malleus’s fingertips flit across your figure, feeling fabric beneath his palms. He tries to exercise restraint and take it slow—everything in moderation, Lilia would remind him—but he can’t contain his nympholepsy. Your clothes are discarded at once, shredded to scraps in his haste. He moves clumsily, following the searchlight of intrinsic ardor. You’re softer when bare, he observes, peeling your bra from your skin. A pallid hand presses down onto your breast, the pudge of which caves beneath his fingers. He withdraws and it bounces back to its shape.

Fascinating, he marvels with wide, enchanted eyes.

Claws tweak at your hardened nipples next. He’s careful because you’re notably weaker. Even in sleep, he must mind his hedonism. Too much and you will break. Too little and he’ll be left unsatisfied. Malleus watches your expression. It was mostly neutral, but now your eyebrows are twitching in response to his touch.

In sleep, you are the most vulnerable.

He knows this because he’s peered in from afar, admiring you through a glass barrier while you slept unaware in Ramshackle. He would never do anything without invitation. Though it may not be in writing, your body is oh-so-inviting. And he indulges because he’s only known this fervor in the deepest, darkest dreams.

Curiously, in his pursuit of passion, Malleus happens upon the special space between your legs. Delicate like a flower, it’s the prettiest part of your anatomy. If he wishes to connect with you, to tie himself to you in unholy communion, he must acquaint himself with this sliver of seventh heaven. He’s never seen one up close; the sight is foreign but very welcome. He drinks it in, burning your form into his retinas. Two fingers trace your labia, stroking along flowery folds in V-shaped strokes. You twitch in his arms, an unconscious, knee-jerk reaction.

At some point, in the middle of his experimental exploration, Malleus begins to hum. It’s a soft, genial lilt. Low and soothing, the lullaby fills the silent halls of Diasomnia’s common room like poison gas.

He contemplates whether this is enough. Can you feel these sensations even when you’re so deep in your dreams? Perhaps so, for when he brushes back the hood protecting your clit to rub at it you soak his fingers. Lubricious, your wetness shimmers on his fingertips when he pulls them away to admire the very essence of you. Without hesitation, he places his fingers on the pad of his tongue to clean both. It’s a divine taste, proof of pleasure.

You cannot speak, so instead your body does so for you. A most bewitching behavior.

Malleus’s hand slithers back towards home, his fingers sliding in with surprising ease. Gummy walls cling to slender digits, embracing the intrusion as if it’s meant to be. With each pump of his fingers, your body warms. The sinful squelch of scissoring fingers joins his humming in a salacious song. Every now and then, you spasm in his arms, your lips parting ever so slightly to release a sigh or a breathy moan. It’s musical, a whimsy he’s only just discovered.

“My beautiful bride,” Malleus croons, “you will know love in my arms. Love forevermore, here in this sanctuary. Fear not, for I have done away with all that may terrify and traumatize.”

Pressure is straining beneath the belt, an itch that must be promptly dealt with. Removing his fingers, he shifts you on his lap so that he may free his cocks from confinement. Twin monstrosities curve towards his stomach; perhaps you’d have been frightened if you were awake to behold them. His hand settles on the small of your back, steadying you as he lines one of them up with your body. The tip just reaches past your navel. For a moment, Malleus ponders whether he might break you.

Careful now, he can hear Lilia’s chiding. Impatience will lead to injury.

He heeds the unspoken warning, lifting you with both hands until the head of his cock is kissing your pussy. And then, slowly, he lowers you down onto him. Your pussy stretches around him, a snug squeeze that only grows tighter with every inch swallowed. Malleus pulls you flush against his chest when he’s halfway slotted, his breathing staggered. Your body quivers, walls fluttering around him, while his other unsheathed cock presses against your navel. Pre-cum smears on your stomach.

He’s determined to cherish you, thrusting all the way to the hilt after a few determined tries. It’s a firm fit, but it’s still bliss. Hissing through his teeth, brows knitted in concentration, Malleus wraps his arms around you and fucks. Mindless, mostly, but with the intent to reach the only acceptable end here: orgasmic ecstasy. He makes up for the lack of motion on your part by moving his hips to meet yours as he rocks you up and down. Whimpers slip past your lips; he shushes you with song, humming through groans and grunts.

This is love.

Malleus thinks so when he positions your hands over his other untouched cock. The illusion doesn’t last long because your hands are quick to fall away. Instead, he grasps your hand, guides it back to his shaft, and pumps himself using your precious palm for friction.

You’re bounced up and down in a parody of consensual copulation. Malleus dwells in imagination, picturing you in a wedding gown. He considers what you might say, the vows you would undoubtedly swear, and the sweet nothings you’d exchange late into the evening. He’d twirl you across an elegant ballroom while everyone looks on with tender adoration and reverence. He’d show you the stars hanging just within reach, and when you’re swept up in riveting romance the sky is tangible and dreams are spun from sugar.

He’d place you on his bed, stripping you of your dress, hands trailing up to tug the frilly garter from your thigh, and you’d smile at him, open your arms and welcome him with mutual affection. You’d bloom for him like a moonflower, your heart beating in sync with his, as he fulfills the final promise—one so bodily imperative. An oath to disturb desolate halls with noise. To hear the pitter-patter of tiny footfalls upon stone floors—he can’t imagine anything more harmonious.

You would soften throughout the months, bright with that foretold pregnancy glow. He would press his hands to your rounded belly and feel squirming within, restless kicks and nudges. You’d discuss potential names over breakfast, and he would hover even though he knows you’re plenty capable. But he worries because you’re so fragile and fleeting. So pretty. So round with child. He wouldn’t leave you alone for a moment; you’re far too enchanting. Perhaps, in some distant future, he’ll lower to the height of your stomach and sing to the baby.

A smile would tug at your lips and you’d reach down to pat his head, running your fingers over his horns. And then— 

Malleus cracks his eyes open, his breath hot against your face. His chest heaves as he comes down from the high of domestic daydreams to find your stomach spattered with cum. Swallowing thickly, he peers between your bodies at your pussy stretched around his other cock.

Oh, he came inside.

Unexpectedly. Or perhaps not, for this was his intention. But once is not nearly enough, and he must fill you until you’re fit to burst—until it’s biologically certain you’re pregnant.

An emotion flickers on your face. Malleus mistakes it for jubilation, the type which calls forth a sunshower on your cheeks. He kisses the tears trailing down your face, ending at your lips for a chaste peck.

This is not the finale. It is simply the beginning.

[konigsblog]

König who has a somnophilia kink. (🌽 kink)

TW/CW: NON-CON/DUB-CON, SOMNOPHILIA, DARK CONTENT. MDNI 18+

König knows it's wrong to have sex with you while you're asleep and unable to make a conscious decision for yourself, but he can't help himself from the irresistible, delicious sight. You have the tendency to sleep bare and naked, and König frequently wakes up in the middle of the night after having a night terror, desperate for something to soothe and comfort him. Of course, how can he resist the pretty little thing laying beside him? To König, it's as if you're offering yourself to him, allowing him to take what he believes belongs to him. I mean, if you didn't want to be used like a fuck toy, you would've covered up, right?

Instead of talking about this with you, discussing whether it's alright to take you while you're asleep, König goes for it anyways. He lifts your leg up and grinds against you, admiring your soft facial expressions when he rubs the wet, sticky tip of his hard cock against your cunt back and forth. He breathes out, relaxed and comforted by the familiar sensation of your wet pussy. It's like heaven for König, who can't stop himself despite the terrified and mortified expression on your face when you're finally awoken. He should feel guilty and sickening, but instead of stopping, he gazes into your glassy eyes and promises to be quick and gentle, even if you're already crying through discomfort and fear.

Don't cry, little bunny. You know it's just König and his selfish desires taking over. He'll take good care of your gorgeous pussy, like he always does.

König pushes himself inside your slick pussy and groans out painfully at the tightness, his eyelids heavy with exhaustion and lust as your smooth, soft walls clamp down around his thick base. His grip is firm and leaves indents along your skin, digging into your flesh as he holds you still. He'll quicken his pace if you squirm or tremble, if you whine or weep. Don't you want König to be at ease, relaxed after a nightmare, don't you care about him? Your pussy does wonders for König. Please, Mauschen, let him have you.

“Please, Maus— I need it. You’d give me it if you truly cared, wouldn’t you? You say you care about me, so prove it.” König frowns at you, shame leaving him feeling disgusted with himself. He shouldn't tug at your heartstrings and shame you for not complying with him. He comforts himself by telling himself that it's not rape, that if you really didn't want it, you'd speak up, even if he knows that's not true. You're frozen in shock and don't want to anger your boyfriend.

At last, König finally reaches his orgasm, spurting thick creamy loads of his hot arousal inside of your hole, only to roll over and pass out, his anxieties vanishing from his mind, while you're left shaking, whimpering at the creamy mess left between your thighs and the dirty feeling of König's touch all over your skin.

[diejager]

Imagine Pervy!Roommate! König has a friend over - Horangi - when you're squirreling around the flat in shorts and an oversized short from König. Horangi ends up as smitten with you as König first was, and as a sign of friendship and camaraderie, let's Horangi stay the night to fuck your tight hole before he creamed all over it with his big cock.

Horangi stretches your wet and filthy count our for König's cock, leaving you dirtier and limp more pronounced the next day as they sit at the dining table, watching you wobble to the bathroom.

Horangi leaves that afternoon, smitten, satisfied and with a pretty pair of lingerie in his pocket from your drawer, caked with his dried cum. He hopes König will invited him over soon, so that he can have a taste of your sweet, puffy cunt. He hopes König will let him stay longer the next time around.

[dolliestfairy]

Yandere Vampire Men x Chubby!Nun!reader

𑁍 Tw; Stalking, Monster-Fucking, Obsessiveness, Somnophilia, Noncon/dubcon, breeding kink (?), biting(obv), harshy grabbing, blood mentioned, virginity-take, the words 'rotten', implied murdering & religious theme. dead dove. Chubby Reader Fics With No Skintone Of Reader Mentioned.

This is a dark yandere fanfiction. if you dont like it then just block me ;) ୧₊˚

୨୧💭 thinking abt yandere!vampire!men who is obsessed with chubby!nun!reader. yandere!vampire!men whos freezing heart is now stuck with you. yandere!vampire!men whos colded heart is melting from fluttering once his eyes meet your plump & round appereance. yandere!vampire!men who eats all the other nuns & peoples who talked down on you. no creature ever should tell you what to do or else he'll rip their jaws off and snatched their ribs open. yandere!vampire!men who wants you to be his spouse, he wants you to be with him forever in the dead life! isnt that sound so spectacular my dear? yandere!vampire!men whos hands likes to touch your big ol thighs while you were sleeping, rubbing them softly up and down. at first it was belly, but the way of where he placed his hands is getting lower as he touch your thighs and later on his hands would touch your pussy and rubbing it softly within his fingers. putting his fingers in the middle of the entrance of your pussy lips. yandere!vampire!men who soon enough is inside you while you're half unconscious. whispering in your ears of how he is your savior and later on you'll get to marry him in the after life in which you just nod while your body is basically served his own. yandere!vampire!men who harshly grabbed your waist and stretch it apart, grabbing it so hard you can really feel his claws makes a pattern of it. it was feeling hurt enough to make you yelp until he start to put his fangs into your neck. pushing through your flesh while the blood slowly came out of the holes where his fangs made. slowing his thrust speed as you felt your body go warm and warm, until your vision start to become more and more blur, when your vision was starting to look white as you passed out at the chruch in the middle of the night where you just handed your virginity over someone or some 'creature' that you dont even know about. as your head and vision slowly and slowly become more unconscious, where you heard the creature muttering "finally, you are mine now."

Those Cold-blooded Vampires Are ;

OBITO UCHIHA, RYOMEN SUKUNA, Geto Suguru, Mahito, Nanami, Sasuke uchiha, VLAD TEPES, Hades, Sae Itoshi, Bachira, HOSHIGAKI KISAME, Mikey, Eren, Jack The Ripper, Kuroo Tetsuro, Semi Eita, Tsukishima Kei, Suna Rintarou, ITTO, Dottore, WRIOTHESLEY, Diluc, Zhongli, Kakashi Hatake, EVERY DIABOLIK LOVERS MEN, Buddha, Johan, Tendou, Oikawa & MALLEUS.

[elsecrytt]

okay but jjk somnophilia is like

gojo "please please pleaaaaase let me put it in while you're sleeping PLEASE i swear i'll make you cum i proooomise please let's try it once pleeaaase. YOU can put it in ME whenever you want!!! any time any place anything you want in any of my holes!! wake me up with it!! it'll be soooo hot" satoru

vs

nanami "i have kink charts for both of us and they have sliding scales and notes section for each one. we can mark hard boundaries for what state of consciousness we want for ourselves or our partners, giving or receiving, what sex acts, etc. we'll set up a safe word and a safe gesture and then we can start trying things out" kento

vs

geto "sorry i fell asleep while eating you out, it will happen again. no, i won't stop eating you out when i fall unconscious. just tear me off your pussy if you don't like it" suguru

[tired-teacher-blog]

The only time Aizawa's face loses that conspicuous look of boredom or intimidating scowl it exclusively parades, is when he's fallen into a deep slumber, and it's a rare view that you make sure to soak up every night before drifting off yourself.

You never get tired of watching him at peace after a long day's work, perfectly relaxed as his chest rises and falls rhythmically while little snores escape him, and the urge to pinch his cheeks and smooch all over that handsome face of his, is a nightly struggle to avoid.

What you do however, is gently poke the smooth skin between his usually furrowed eyebrows, running your finger down along the bridge of his nose and softly pecking his slightly parted lips over and over again until he unknowingly lets out a faint groan against your mouth, and that's when you quickly pull back before he actually wakes up.

He is cute, unbelievably so, and you pride yourself on the many pictures that you've taken of him in secret, over the years while he slept, that and being the only one fortunate enough to see this vulnerable side of him.

_ "I love you.. Shouta.."

You never forget to utter the reminder before allowing yourself to melt into his embrace and fall asleep, even while knowing that he certainly cannot hear you at the moment..

That's how your nights usually go, however, tonight is different, tonight your mind is going a little too wild that you suddenly find yourself dying to see his peaceful expression turn into a twisted and desperate one.

A devilish idea pops up in your brain so you immediately aim for his lower half, working his boxers down his hips until you're staring at his limp penis, and the smirk curving up your lips at the sight of it is one of excitement and confidence in your skills to harden and thicken it up with a mere touch, because that's how well you know his body..

You crawl down a bit further and kneel between his legs before gently taking his cock in your hand and placing a soft peck right on its head.

Your eagerness grows as you feel that familiar little twitch right under your lips, and you can't help but peck him there again before licking a long stripe along the underside of his length until you reach the smooth head again and twirl your tongue over its pinkish surface.

It's working, even in his sleep, he's responding to your teasing in a wonderful manner, his cock is finally coming to life, fully erect and already throbbing.

You move your hand up an down along his length while keeping your eyes on his face, his expression is finally changing just like you've hoped.. his eyebrows are twitching and his jaw is clenched as little groans and whines are rippling through his chest while his body twisted slightly.

You want more, you want him to open his eyes and see what you're doing, you want to relish the surprised look that's bound to appear on his face.

_ "Let's try something else, shall we?" you mumble to yourself in a playful tone before dipping your head to take as much of him as you could, enveloping the thickness in your mouth and swirling your tongue around every protruding vein before sucking on it like a lollipop.

One of your hands move down to fumble with his fat balls, while the other slides past the delicate fabric of your panties to try and soothe your growing need.

_ "Princess.. fuck.. what are you doing?"

He's finally up, a confused look on his face as he observed you for a second, but it's soon replaced with a dark animalistic one that sends a shiver up your spine.

_ "I'm just having some fun by myself." you reply with a smile that soon disappears when you find yourself pinned down beneath him.

_ "You've had your fun.. it's my turn now." and he pushes your legs apart before settling between them, pressing his raging thickness against your thigh, as a show for what's awaiting..

Dividers by : @/cafekitsune