#somno fic
Text
Hush little baby don't say a word
Somnophilia
Genre: smut
Request: no
Word count: 2002
Warnings: spitting, choking, dub-con, somnophilia
Summary: Cersei likes it better when you’re asleep.
A/N: OMG I KILLED A MOSQUITO WHILE WRITING THIS! I wrote it on the 9th at like 23:00 (once a procrastinator always a procrastinator) with all the lights off (cause im supposed to be sleeping) and i manage to hit the lil annoying buzzer and it falls onto my laptop and i SLAM that shut! Btw i wrote this an before even finishing the fic XD
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Cersei had been planning this for months. When she first began this endeavour, she wondered if milk of the poppy would be useful. She had used it on Robert once when he insisted on bedding her but decided against using it on you. She wanted the risk, the danger of you potentially waking up at any moment. To begin with, it had started slow, a casual touch here, a brush of a hand there. Cersei carefully built up your tolerance to her flesh on yours until you came to expect it, to almost crave it. She liked the way you leaned towards her when you poured her wine, or when your fingers lingered for too long in her hair after brushing it. She liked to watch you in the mirror, eyes slightly glazed as you absentmindedly fingered through her hair.
When you had first arrived in Cersei’s service, she felt nothing more than a slight curiosity towards you yet the longer you stayed with her, the more obsessive she became. While it wasn’t uncommon for women of high status to have a lady-in-waiting stay in their bed-chambers, Cersei had never had one in such an intimate space. Not since she was a little girl afraid of the monsters in the dark.
That all changed when she heard some of the guards talking about how fuckable you were.
Not only did Cersei have them killed, but you were now to spend every moment with her. You didn’t mind, not considering that it was a promotion. You were lowborn, never destined for anything more than cleaning chamber pots and drawing baths. When you were promoted to Cersei’s lady-in-waiting, hushed whispers echoed throughout Kings Landing. That privilege was reserved for highborns, not someone like you.
You didn’t mind sharing a bed with Cersei, if anything you preferred it. You had shared a bed with your three sisters from the time they had been born until you left for Kings Landing. There was something comforting about hearing the sounds of another person breathing. You had always been a vivid dreamer, able to describe your dreams in such detail you often wondered if they were actually memories. Since staying with Cersei, your dreams had taken on more… adult… content. Where before you saw her casual touches as friendly, you now found yourself reading into them. Wanting them to mean more.
Cersei remembers the night when her thoughts became more sinister as clear as day. It had been a week since you had started staying with her and it had been a week since she had slept properly. She would feign a peaceful sleep until she heard your breaths deepen and even out; then her eyes would snap open and she would watch you like a predator in the dark. On that particular night, you had been moving more than usual. At first, Cersei thought you were having a nightmare and reached over to wake you but when you let out a whimper and arched into her touch, she realised just how wrong she was. She looked at you closer, at your reddining face, furrowed brows and light sheen on your body. Her fingers lingered, ghosting over your forearm, causing the hairs on your arm to raise. You grunted and rolled towards her, causing Cersei to jump slightly and pull her hand away. She bit her lip and smiled, her eyes darkening as she imagined being the cause of your wet dream. Her smile dropped as quickly as it arrived when a nasty thought entered her head. She's probably dreaming about some stable boy.
Cercei slapped you hard and you awoke with a jolt, you sat up sharply, cupping your hand to your face as you looked around, your sleep-addled brain struggling to catch up.
“What? What’s happening?”
“My sweet mouse, you were having a nightmare.” Cersei soothed you, running her hands through your hair and bringing your head to her chest. “I tried to wake you.”
You craned your neck to look up at her, her expression almost dared you to challenge her but you trusted her. Why else would she have hit you? Besides, her believing you were having a nightmare was much less embarrassing than her finding out that you were having a sex dream. A sex dream about her no less. You also couldn’t help but enjoy the tingle left behind by her slap.
“Thank you. Sorry your grace, I didn’t mean to disturb your own sleep.”
“It is quite alright.” Cersei pauses for a moment “Sometimes I find it helpful to talk through the dream.”
You blushed, still slightly groggy and in no way up to elaborate lying “I-I can’t really remember your grace.”
“Shall I get you milk of the poppy? It would aid your sleep.”
“Thank you your grace but there’s no need. I tried it once before and it gave me no dreams at all. I would rather have…unpleasant dreams than none at all.”
“Well if you won’t share your nightmares or take poppy milk, then I suggest we try to sleep. I have council meetings tomorrow and I need to be well rested.”
“Of course your grace. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight Y/n.”
~~~~~
From that night onwards, Cersei was addicted. She craved you like a drug and it only got worse once you were asleep. Seeing your peaceful face, so trustingly restful. She would trace her fingers over your nose, your eyebrows, along your lips, down the column of your throat and between your breasts. Her fingers went where she wanted her mouth to go. One night, she decided to be brave. She was a lion and lions were afraid of nothing. So she flicked her thumb quickly over your nipple. She did it so quickly she wondered if she had done it at all. That thought prompted her to go back, to gently roll it between her fingers over your nightgown. Your lips parted in with a needy sigh and Cersei bit back a growl. Her favourite thing to do was see how far she could push your body before it sent signals to wake you up. Turns out it only took a few weeks of Cercei training you for her to be able to slip a finger into your wet hole. The taste of you was so delicious that she got herself off with your essence on her tongue and her fingers shoved into her cunt. She gently opened your mouth and wiped her fingers clean on your tongue after that endeavour. It almost made her cum again to see you swallow what she put in your mouth.
You were going to be such a good little slut.
One night, Cersei decided she wanted to take things further. She wanted to wake you up. She wanted to watch your eyes roll back and tears leak out she fucked you hard into the mattress. She wanted to put your pretty little tongue to good use and cum on your face as you struggled to breathe. This new, reckless desire had absolutely nothing to do with Ellaria Sand looking at you a little too closely.
Cersei started how she always did, with tracing over your features. She enjoyed the method of it, the order each of the stages were completed. She liked watching your body get more and more needy. Today, however, she rested over your hips. She held herself over you, not prepared to let you feel her weight just yet but she wanted you to feel her presence. Once her fingers had finished tracing their intricate map across your skin, she let her mouth follow. Cersei let her lips and tongue trace over where her fingers had been and once she reached your breasts, she undid the lacing keeping your nightgown together. She felt her mouth water at the sight and wanted nothing more than to bite down on your pillowy flesh but she refrained.
Not yet she whispered to herself. No, instead of satiating her needs, she reached back and slipped a finger over your entrance. Your hips bucked unconsciously, rubbing against her cunt and causing a moan to slip out. She stilled instantly. She didn’t want you to wake yet. Once satisfied you weren’t going to wake, she continued gently running her finger around your tight hole, gathering your wetness. She gently hovered over your pubic bone, she was sure you could feel her heat radiate onto you yet still you didn’t stir. Cersei’s cunt throbbed and clenched at the thought of you knowing she’s doing this to you. She ran her finger higher up and shivers when she hears you whimper. She found your clit. She gently applies a little more pressure and smirks when your hips twitch once again. She begins to grind down on you, wanting to get off using you whether you knew it was happening or not.
Her hips jerk to a stop.
She’s getting ahead of herself.
She needs to slow it down again so she returns to your breasts, licking your nipples till they turn into rock-hard pebbles. Cercei leans back to admire her work. You're a panting mess and she hasn't even touched you properly.
Cersei slides down your body till she’s got your pussy in her line of sight. She gently spreads your legs open, running her nails along the insides of your thighs. She settles between them and watches with baited breath as your cunt pulses. She lets out a quiet chuckle and the puff of air makes it clench harder. Finally finally Cersei decides to indulge herself. She presses her tongue flat against you and your hips twitch once again. She licks as her nose bumps into your clit, her teeth lightly grazing your swollen bud before she goes back down to where she really wants to be. She briefly looks up at your face to see her handiwork. She puts more pressure on your clit, licking faster and harder as she hears your breathing get louder and heavier, your natural rhythm she had become accustomed to was gone. She feels your thighs clench around her head and fingers wrap in her hair as a loud moan escapes your lips.Cersei sees you looking down at her, your eyes glazed as you try to work out what just happened.
“Cersei?”
“Oh little mouse” Cersei cooed “I’ve been waiting for this for a long time.”
She moved up from where she was resting between your legs and squeezed your jaw so you would open it.
“Swallow” she purred, before spitting in your mouth.
You did as she said and watched as her eyes darkened.
“Stay still.”
You did as you were told, refraining from reaching up and touching where you desperately wanted to touch. Cersei rocked back and forth over your cunt, her juices mixed with your own until the room was filled with lewd sounds. Cersei leaned forward, getting a better angle and wrapped her hand around your throat. You felt your breathing get shallow as she began to grind on you harder.
“Open.”
You did as you were told and even stuck your tongue out. You watched as Cersei gently let spit drip down her lips and into your mouth. Once again, you swallowed.
“Good girl.” She rasps out as she comes. You come too, her words affecting you more than you thought they could.
Once you had both come down a little Cersei rolled off you and looked at you with a sinister glint in her eye.
“I’m going to fuck you properly in ways you wished your precious stable boy fucked you.” Cersei growled and you shook your head in confusion.
“What stable boy?”
“Don’t act dumb I’ve seen you with him.” She grabs your pussy and you gasp “This is mine now. No one else gets to touch it ever again.”
“I’m a virgin, Cersei. There is no stable boy.”
You watch as her features soften slightly before returning to their hard edge “I’m your first?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’m also your last.”
#Novamirmir's 2023 Kinktober#cersei x reader#cersei x fem!reader#cersei lannister#somnophilia#somno#somno fic#Cersei Lannister x reader#queen cersei#got#kinktober 2023
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CW: cnc, noncon, dubcon, somno, aphrodisiac
Not really monster fucking, but I have this fantasy of having access to some kind of aphrodisiac lotion and rubbing it over your pussy while you sleep.
You'd be sleeping so peacefully in bed. Oblivious to the world around you and I'd be there to take advantage.
I'd have to keep my hands gloved as to ensure I don't get any of the lotion on me, wouldn't want to get filled with urge to breed you and ruin the moment. I'd pull off the clothing hiding your pretty pink pussy and lather on this wonderful lotion all over your clit and folds. I'd be sure to fuck a couple fingers inside to be sure that the breeding heat will take over fully.
Almost immediately, your pussy grows slick with arousal and you begin to whimper in your sleep. I quickly put your clothes back where they where and go busy myself. I wait excitedly for you to wake.
What was merely little whimpers and twitches becomes outright moaning and writhing. You start to hump into the air, unable to get the friction needed to cum. I can't help but stare at the panting mess your making for yourself. You've already slicked through your underwear, creating a small wet patch were your mound pulses with heat.
Suddenly, your thighs tremble, back arching, and a groan of orgasm. Your eyes flutter open, reeling from the feeling, only to grow embarrassed as you realized what had just occurred.
You quickly get up and try to hide the evidence of what had just happened. Knowing I'm I'm in the room, you can hope you weren't too loud. All the while, your cunt drips and every movement feels like its too much. perhaps I did add too much.
You try to hide your arousal. Try to hide your hands under the table as you rub through your pants. Try to hide your little whimpers when I "accidentally" bump into you.
Alas, I have to leave for the day. Foresight would've had me buy cameras to watch you fervently rub yourself dumb as I work. Instead I must make due with my imagination
#cnc somno#cnc k!nk#somno fantasy#aphrodisiac#Wish I could put someone into a breeding frenzy#Biscuit tumblr fic
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SAFETY IN IGNORANCE.
Yandere! Prince! Gojo X fem! Isekai! Maid! Reader
SUMMARY: You’ve been transmigrated to the world of an otome game, taking the place of one of Prince Satoru's personal attendants, a measly side character with no name or relevance to the story.
As it turns out, life in the castle isn't so bad, and the certainty of food and shelter is welcome when finding a way home isn't ever guaranteed. Besides, your boss isn't as insufferable as you thought he would be. It could be worse. Isn't it nice, knowing you're safe?
WORD COUNT: 7.4k words (😮)
CONTENT/TRIGGER WARNINGS: NONCON (no intercourse), somnophilia, mentions of past s/a, mild yandere behavior (if you squint?), mild derealization, AU setting.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: please be aware my writing is quite rusty!! this is the first piece of writing that i finish IN YEARS and it's a fucking jjk darkfic. sigh. writing smutty scenes is also so awkward lmao, forgive me if it sucks severely. at least i hope you enjoy this little fucked up fic in have cooked up. it's hot and ready to be consumed! (๑>•̀๑)
-> MINORS DNI !
“TALES OF SPELLBINDING LOVE is a visual novel that takes place in a fantastical setting, where you can find your happily ever after with the character of your choice.”
It's been years – in this world, at least – but you still remember every word skimmed with dry, irritated eyes, as you stared at a bright screen, surrounded by the darkness of your own bedroom. It was another restless night among many, spent watching YouTube videos and reading pirated manga in questionable website, sipping on valerian tea.
So, like any other night, your adblocker dutifully served its purpose, shielding your browser from annoying, abusive, virulent ads.
Except for one.
“Enter the enchanting world of TALES OF SPELLBINDING LOVE through SARA, a kind-hearted peasant, as she meets all sorts of swoon-worthy suitors!”
You should have closed the page, sketchy as it was, but it had piqued your interest. It was a Friday night. You were sleepless. It was past midnight, tossing and turning in bed had done little to welcome slumber. Your home was tidy and organized from insomniac hours from nights before. You were bored.
“Play with a cast of handsome men, make the right choices and uncover exciting secret routes...”
Nothing about the web design told you the game was anything but a harmless dating simulator for an adult audience. Maybe it was the pastel color-scheme, with soft pinks, yellows, blues, purples and greens, or the elegant cursive font and colorful flowers adorning the page. In fact, other than the initial synopsis, there wasn't much to look at. No content warnings, nothing about the capture targets or the heroine you were supposed to be playing as, not even the usual information on how many endings or CGs you could get.
At the bottom of the page, “ENTER.” and “LEAVE?” buttons waited for a decision.
Maybe... you could give it a try? Hopefully it would entertain you until your eyelids finally grew heavy, allowing you to drift off before sunshine seeped through your window signaling dawn had arrived.
You clicked “ENTER.”.
... And here you are now, mending Prince Satoru's shirt before another hunting trip.
It's been ten years since you've come to this world. Your own body replaced that of a nameless background character with no narrative purpose, allowing you to exist as yourself in this entirely alien reality. You're not sure how much time has passed in your original world, whether you've been dead for a decade or simply unconscious for a couple of minutes, and you haven't gotten any closer to finding out.
You sigh, weary, looking down at the flax linen shirt laid over your lap, needle in hand. Simple, at first glance, a bit worn, but a nice piece of garment not everyone could afford to have in their wardrobe. One of its puffed sleeves now torn at the shoulder lining, an unfortunate result of it being caught by a tree branch during horse-riding. Nothing you couldn’t fix, however, skilled as you’d become over the years.
Ten years in this world.
Ten years working as Prince Satoru’s personal maid.
You got rewarded for that.
The luxurious pearl necklace that became a part of your distinguished blue uniform, accompanied by a gold pendant encrusted with gemstones shaped like the Gojo’s family crest. It was an honor given to faithful, dutiful servants to the crown, closest to the royal family.
Satoru and you were both eighteen when you’d first presented yourself as his new personal maid. This body, undoubtedly yours, seemed to have aged down a few years, most likely to match the age of your predecessor. They had, apparently, been working hard to better their lot in life, aiming for an often-vacant position at the prince’s small circle of personal attendants. You inherited the skills they’d nurtured, bettering them along the years, allowing you to secure your spot as long as you have.
That, and Prince Satoru Gojo’s character trivia really came in handy an absurd number of times.
There were worse fates out there, especially for a transmigrated person like you. Sure, maybe life as a privileged noblewoman would have been ideal, even more useful in searching for a way home, but being a personal servant to Prince Satoru, as… Eccentric as he was, gave you advantages compared to other peasants, even other castle servants. Plenty of food, fine fabrics, individual accommodations, not having to exhaust yourself scrubbing floors all day or sweating by the heat of the kitchen fires – besides, the Gojo heir wasn’t quite as terrible a boss once you got used to him.
You remember finding his route in-game quite boring, full of cliché tropes and little to no conflict. He was also kind of an overbearing asshole the entire time, unlikability salvaged only by his elven good looks.
But nothing could have prepared you to the otherworldly beauty he posed standing right in front of you, in the flesh, for the first time, glacial orbs eyeing you up and down. You admitted to yourself – although begrudgingly, as he was your least favorite character among the ones you’d played – that Satoru Gojo was as handsome as they come and had every right to be smug about it.
Smiling to yourself, you put aside the needle and thread to hold up the shirt with one hand, gently tracing over the repaired sleeve with the other. You tug at it to test its resistance, nodding absentmindedly when its stays in place. It’s good as new, just in time for his hunting trip. You get up, taking a moment to adjust your skirts and straighten your white linen apron and coif, neatly folding the shirt and draping it over your arm. According to your pocket watch, his attendants should be waking him up at any minute now.
You grab the doorknob, wondering when you’d become so accustomed to this life.
And then you’re heading towards the prince’s chambers.
Gojo’s head snaps in your direction as soon as he hears the door creak open, a lazy smile gracing his features. You bow to him, respectfully averting your eyes as an attendant removes his undertunic to reveal his naked form.
“Good morning, Your Highness.”
He doesn’t regard you immediately, arms raised as William, one of his attendants, quickly fetches the shirt from your arm and slips it over his head. It’s a morning ritual familiar to you by now, efficient movements shared between all three blue-clad servants in the room to make sure the prince will be properly dressed for his daily affairs.
Kai, your other colleague, hands you a black leather surcoat. It’s undoubtedly fit for royalty, handcrafted by the best tailor in the land; buttons of silver, western dragons embroidered on each side of its chest, facing each other, with gold thread some miller’s daughter had spun from straw – or so you’d heard. You feel his gaze upon you as you button up the overgarment, knowing exactly what he expects.
Gojo steps back when you’re done, doing a slow spin to show off his outfit.
“What flattery does this little doll have for me today?” He asks, “Do I look dashing?”
“Yes, my lord Prince, as always.” You respond, with a courtly nod of your head.
“What about my hair?”
“Soft like the finest silk in the land, fairer than the first snow of the season, Your Highness.”
“What about my lips?”
“Tender and pink like a freshly bloomed petunias in springtime, Your Highness.”
“And my eyes? And my eyes?” Gojo goads you on, a boyish excitement to his voice, his face coming a bit too close for comfort as if pleading to look up at him.
Playfully, your eyes meet his, granting his unspoken wish, holding his gaze for nothing more than a few seconds, a simpering smile as you speak.
“So strikingly blue it would put a midday sky in a summer’s day to shame, Your Highness.”
He releases an exaggerated sigh before grabbing your face with both hands, squishing your cheeks – his touchiness hardly phased you anymore; harmless, albeit pestering –, head slightly cocked to the side and a pout on his lips.
“You tease.”
Kai, newer to the group, shoots an alarmed look towards William, who merely shrugs him off.
And just as quickly he releases you, storming out the door as you and your colleagues follow after him, hurrying along the hallway steps behind him like ducklings after their mother.
Gojo Satoru is exactly seven minutes late to meet his guests. Not his servant’s fault at all, of that, you are sure. You had checked your pocket watch while walking through the castle hallways, confirming he would be on time to meet his guests at the open area of the stables – that was, of course, before all the meaningless detours he took along the way. You’re not sure if he does it on purpose.
William had his weaponry arranged, waiting at the hands of a servant, while Kai had personally spoken to the Marshal to have his Highness’ horse ready, both having woken up earlier than usual to make the proper arrangements.
Naturally, they would follow him to the hunting trip, as part of his entourage, while you stayed behind and made sure all was perfect for their return.
Your arrangements included waking up as early as the kitchen staff, the sun barely peeking through the horizon, to revise the ingredients you’d requested in advance with the head cook, so a kitchen maid could go and fetch them from the forest or the market. You’d love to be able to traverse the markets or the woods freely, exploring, meeting new people, finding out new things about this world that could potentially lead to a way home — but alas, being a personal attendant to the prince meant tasks such as picking herbs at the woods or buying strawberries from a merchant were, per your colleague’s words, below you.
It's a nice day out. A faint breeze caresses your skin, cool enough to be refreshing, and the skies are clear and blue with not a cloud to be seen. The autumn sun shines gently upon the earth, sparing of its overbearing heat. Your presence isn’t exactly necessary, but Gojo has made a habit of you seeing him off and you wouldn’t miss an opportunity to be outside.
“Fashionably late as always, Satoru.” His grace, Geto Suguru, is the first one to speak up.
A swoon-worthy duke, with a storyline much too… disconcerting… for your taste. Though the number of times you’d spoken to Geto could be counted on your fingers, being in his presence still put you on edge. Not that he had ever done anything to you, but you’d accidentally met his eyes countless times, caught him staring at you with a gaze so invasive it made you feel like a criminal awaiting judgement.
“Late? Treason. A prince is always on time, Suguru.” Gojo replies with a nonchalant shrug, “You were the ones here early!”
Awaiting his arrival were a group of familiar young men. Most you had seen in-game through the extensive selection of capture targets, coming to meet them in-person over the years due to their ties with the prince. You had played some of their routes, but with the exception of Megumi – Gojo’s protégé – you hadn’t a reason to talk to them, merely exchanging a word or two or none at all when in their presence.
“Finally.”
Nanami Kento looks mildly inconvenienced as he speaks, tone flat, arms crossed over his broad chest and a visible scowl creasing his features. He was a retired knight, born a peasant, presently a Baron; a personal favorite of yours. You couldn’t help but steal a glance or two whenever he was around. You remember kicking your feet up in the air during his playthrough. Sometimes you still do.
Next to him stood Prince Yuji Itadori, too entertained by his own horse as he fed him a carrot. You have faint memories of playing his route, although you don’t remember finishing it. He was a sweetheart, from what you knew, periodically visiting from a neighboring kingdom to learn from Nanami and Satoru and cultivate friendly diplomatic relations. You’d cracked your head trying to recollect bits and pieces of his story, unsuccessfully. You had a pesky feeling it was relevant.
Fushiguro Megumi was last. Broody lost prince, currently hidden under Prince Satoru’s protection – you hadn’t played his route, but he was a constant side character in Gojo’s. He was still a child when you met him, shortly after Gojo brought him into the castle.
When Megumi notices you, there’s a smile; faint, barely noticeable, and he waves. You respond with a brief curtsy.
“Can we go?” Yuji protests, interrupting some petty squabble between Satoru and Suguru, “I hear there’s a huge wild boar running around causing ruckus around the village, I want to catch it!”
Mounted on his white steed, Gojo is a cliché as old as time; a trotting reminder of your being in a world that isn't your own. The anodyne sight of him looking down on you, pink lips softly curving upwards to gift you a kind smile as the sun shines from behind him is almost identical to one of the game’s CG’S. It shouldn’t – you’ve grown used to him, to living inside this game, material as your own world – but for a moment, and just a moment, the sight of a whimsical prince on a white horse wiggles an uncomfortable, yet familiar feeling of surrealness, unreality into your mind, making your stomach churn.
You ignore it. Mentally sweep it under the carpet of your subconscious. This is nothing new. You can spiral into an existential crisis over the absurd condition of your circumstances later, when you’re lying sleepless in bed staring at the ceiling.
You’ve run out valerian root, anyway.
“I am obliged to be away for an entire day!” He whines, words punctuated by dramatic sullenness to his body language.
You step closer to him, taking a respectful bow before offering him a pair of neatly-wrapped sunglasses, which he takes – a distinctive feature of his character.
“So, you must, Your Highness. Go, and may the mother of good luck be with you.”
Satoru extends an arm toward you, presenting his hand. You kiss it – your own lips touching soft, pristine skin; a needed reminded he was a person, made of flesh that could be touched and not pixels limited to a screen.
From your peripheral, Kai elbows William as discreetly as he can.
You return to the prince’s sleeping quarters immediately after their departure. Overseeing the chambermaids, you watch them change the bedding for a fresh set, correcting the pair on your favored arrangement of pillows, fussing as they dust around the priceless ornaments around the chamber, amiably warning them to be careful.
When they’re done, you move onwards to the kitchen.
There are people watching you as you march through the hallways. Spying little peepers full of envy or admiration, or both, and you know what they’re looking at – the telltale blue fabric of your dress, a color so inaccessible to many, and the necklace you bear from years of service. Despite your own wishes, it makes you an intimidating figure, as if you’re an extension of royalty. Being a personal attendant to the prince meant upholding that image, keeping yourself unapproachable, discouraged from socializing and making merry with anyone but servants considered to be on your level.
Still, you greet the kitchen staff with a smile, trying to be as cordial as you possibly can. You know all of them by name, from the head cook to the scullery maid, all exceptionally busy for tonight’s private feast. It’s not your job to review the selection of dishes to be served, but you do so anyway, even if superficially, reminding them to provide a non-alcoholic beverage for the prince. Attentively, you listen to the head cook as he showcases the ingredients for the pastries you requested, assuring of their quality.
It's a bit of a hollow feeling when you leave the hustle and bustle of the kitchen, knowing the rest of your day will be spent alone. Without Gojo, there’s nothing much to do. Without William and Kai, your social circle has been just about reduced to zero.
But you do know where you’ll be spending all of those long, unending hours.
Being a personal servant to Prince Satoru gave you advantages. Privileges, if you will.
When he asked you what you would like for your latest birthday, you made quite a bold request. It’s the newest addition to the key bunch hanging from your waist – full, unbridled access to the royal library. The thought of having an entire day to search through never-ending shelves, making notes and finding books that could possibly lead to finding a way home cheers you up a bit.
“Are you fornicating with the prince?”
You nearly choke on your drink when the question abruptly comes out of Kai’s mouth, unable to speak from the utter shock. William is at his side, chewing on a chicken leg, and can only stare wide-eyed at his colleague’s bluntness. It’s been a while since the hunting party returned, clear blue skies fading into shades of orange adorned by heavy, rumbling clouds. Outside, tree branches sway to the force of the wind, preparing to welcome a starless night of rain and cold. Gathered at the table on Prince Satoru’s solar room, the three of you were having dinner to replenish your energy before the feast while Gojo entertained his guests.
It was usually a casual moment to decompress. Not tonight, Kai had decided.
“What– No!” You retort, scandalized, “What could have given you that impression?!”
“What hasn’t given me that impression, you mean.”
“Kai–” William tries to interject, but you’re quicker to rejoinder.
“I am not… fornicating with anyone, especially not prince Satoru. There’s nothing like that between us. That’s… How he is. You’re just not used to him yet.”
“But–”
“I think we’re better off cutting this topic of conversation here.” William interrupts, slightest bit of panic in his voice, eager to deflect conflict, “I know you’re still adapting to your new position, Kai, and that’s why I’m sure (Y/N) will be kind enough to let this slide.”
William looks at you expectantly, almost pleading, and you scoff before crossing your arms over your chest. The mere notion seems ridiculous – you, doing the deed of darkness with one of the game’s capture targets, destined to fall in love with the heroine regardless of whether she decided to pursue him or not? It would be a disaster waiting to happen. You were nothing if not a professional, serving your boss to the best of your power, and all of Satoru’s affections stemmed from his own outlandish personality. That was all. Your dynamic could be less than orthodox, but it was platonic in its nature.
“Come now, we can’t afford not to get along. Kai, apologize to (Y/N). I have worked alongside her for ten long years, and if she says she’s not engaging in improper acts with the prince, then she’s not.”
Kai silently looks between the both of you, finally letting out a defeated sigh.
“It’s a reasonable question, seeing you two…” He insists, shifting uncomfortably on his seat, “But I’m sorry. That was uncalled for.”
“It’s fine, I guess. No one has ever insinuated that before.”
“Not to your face, doll.” Kai shrugs, nonchalant.
You want to snap back at him, but in comes the realization that he’s not wrong. Perhaps it was living within your bubble, mostly limited to your coworkers and your boss, had made you clueless to people outside and what gossip ran about you. William and Benji, Kai’s predecessor, had accompanied you in serving Gojo for a decade; neither of them would ever dare question your relationship with the prince or the harmless liberties involved; they were accustomed to it. And, well, you were accustomed to the point you thought everyone else saw it as you did: normal. The sudden realization that not all would find Prince Satoru’s affections towards you something ordinary was a staggering concept in your mind – but it was so simple. So obvious.
Then again, it never occurred you to ask…
“Do you think it’s weird, William? Be honest.”
“I have no opinion of anything, ever.” William stated, crossing over his heart with his right hand, “But now that you mention it, Benji did confide in me, shortly before he was relieved from service. Said something about ‘inappropriate displays of affection towards a heedless maiden’, I believe?”
“Oh. Benji never said anything like that to me.”
“He wouldn’t. Between you and me, he had a soft spot for you, so I do believe that statement was a little biased.”
On your face, an expression of utter confusion. You never noticed any signs of Benji liking you romantically, but then again, you apparently don’t notice much around you. The chicken seems to have lost its taste when you bite into it, mind too preoccupied with the conversation you just had. Not that there’s any use reminiscing about Benji – the man having been released from service only a month prior, after prince Satoru arranged him a marriage to a marquis’ daughter.
Now that you think of it, he didn’t seem too pleased about the match. Or about leaving.
The stone-walled bathroom smelled of fresh flowers and citrus. Sliced oranges and grapefruits, calendulas, sunflowers, rose petals, mint leaves, forget-me-nots, floating in the steaming hot water that filled the circular, wooden bathtub. Night has long since arrived, and even with the shutters of the only window in the room closed you can still hear the heavy rain pouring against glass and the rattling of wood caused by unrelenting wind.
Despite that, the candles illuminating the room, as well as the small fire burning underneath a boiling pot of water, kept the room pleasantly warm.
On the other side of the door, William and Kai undress the prince. All had retired to their respective bedchambers by now, and it’s not long before the pair of attendants are dismissed for the night. Gojo is already disrobing by the time he enters the bathroom, excitedly blabbering about the hunting trip as he plops the velvet garment onto your waiting hands, stepping into the warm embrace of the thoughtfully drawn bath. Suddenly, the ceiling becomes particularly interesting.
He lets out a long, satisfied sigh.
“… Not that I’m complaining about tonight’s banquet, though. I’m just a bit disappointed, you know? All the fuss people were making over a silly boar, and it made a passable meal at best…”
You hang the robe. From a tray placed beside the fireplace you select a pink macaron, feeding it to him before you start to work a soapy sponge along his skin. It had been a deeply embarrassing experience at first, aiding him in his baths; with time, however, like many other things, it had faded into normalcy. Nothing but work, is what you tell yourself when you elevate one of his sinewy legs with your hand, sponge inching closer and closer to his groin. You steal a quick glance at him, half-listening to his words, seeing Gojo laid back, unashamed by your ministrations, playing with the petals of a soggy sunflower.
“Ah– Megumi! His aim is getting better. He’s gotten really good at shooting with a bow and arrow…”
You wash the soap off your hands when you’re finished with his body. You feed him a small tart, topped with vanilla cream, strawberries, and blueberries. Still, he prattles on, words muffled by his munching,
“… mmph… And Suguru is still being weird about that wife of his… Something-something ‘she’s different from before’ and refused to elaborate…”
He quiets down a bit once you retrieve a warm compress, placing it over his eyes, fingers moving to either side of his temples to massage them with gentle circular motions. He relishes a bit on the relief it brings after a day straining his eyes. As he relaxes further under your touch, you let your mind wander, recounting the frustratingly slow progress with your research.
Even with access to the great royal library, the sheer number of books on varying topics was discouraging enough to tempt an emotional breakdown. You scoured through shelves, gathering a collection of sorcerer biographies, spell books, history books, encyclopedias – anything that could hold the subtlest bit of information regarding transmigration. And still… Nothing. Your eyes still felt a bit dry, a lingering headache from reading within the ill-illuminated library. All you had at this point were your own theories – and that wasn’t saying much.
If only you could leave the castle for a bit. A frightening thought, of course, as you could count on a single hand the number of times you had seen the world beyond the castle walls, never straying too far from the place you now called home. All of those occasions you had been following Prince Satoru on some of his trips, mostly diplomatic, with no freedom to walk around and talk to people as you pleased.
Perhaps a vacation was all you needed. Your “parents” lived not too far, if you remembered correctly, on one of the neighboring villages subservient to the Gojo crown. A favored place for merchants to gather, fairly populated, maybe if you tried investigating–
“(Y/N)?? (Y/N)??” Gojo’s fingers are snapping in front of your face, his eyes still covered by the compress, “Are you listening to me?”
“Oh! I’m sorry, Your Highness. I think my mind just wandered for a bit…” You apologize, hurriedly forgoing his temples in favor of washing his hair, “What was it?”
He remains oddly silent as you pick up a smaller bucket of ambient-temperature water, delicately wetting his hair. You weren’t giving mere empty flattery earlier in the day; running your hands through his hair truly felt like touching the finest of silk.
“You know…” He starts, “I notice your mind tends to wander a lot, especially these days...”
There’s an edge to his tone, one you rarely hear him use.
“Your eyes seem to wander an awful lot, too, lately.”
Another pause. There's no silence in the room, just an uncomfortable absence of words; You hear the fire crackling. You hear the water boiling and bubbling, thinking for a moment you should check the temperature of his bath to see if it needs to be warmed. You hear the muffled sound of rain against glass. You hear wooden shutters rattling. There's a strange shift about the air, and you're confused, unsure of what he could mean.
He answers your unspoken question before the words have a chance to leave your mouth.
“I saw you stealing those little glances at Nanami.”
You stand, bucket in hands, mouth agape – embarrassment. The heat of complete embarrassment that overtakes you feels like cold water poured down on your body. Your hands feel a little weak as you quickly try to regain your composure, looking away from Gojo despite knowing his eyes aren’t on you.
Fiddling with the hem of your apron, you try to find your words.
“When… When did you–” You stammer, “How…”
“Ah-ha! So, you plead guilty. That’s soooo shameless, flower.”
The familiar playfulness in his tone brings back a bit of confidence. Still, there’s something about it you can’t quite place; for a moment, you think there’s a bark to it, bitterness. Perhaps it’s something unpleasant about his day that he’s hung up about, increased by you not listening to him. He’s just teasing, you conclude, trying to vent whatever annoyance peeved him by picking on you.
You massage Prince Satoru’s scalp with shampoo – or the closest thing they had to it, in this world – hoping to placate his abrupt change in mood. Maybe you’ll hand-feed him another macaron.
“I was just… Looking.” You offer, cautiously, unsure if any explanation would make it better or worse for yourself, “There’s no harm in looking. Lord Nanami was admirable as a knight, and he’s handsome…”
Worse, if the crease between his eyebrows is anything to go by.
“… But not nearly as handsome as you, my prince.”
That seems to appease Gojo who, with a petty harrumph, relaxed into your touch again. Appealing to his ego always seemed to get you out of trouble. You’d never thought to be grateful for his petulant grouching, but it's music to your ears compared to the spitefulness from a few moments ago.
“I just find it vexing. Why would you ever bat those little eyelashes at Nanamin when you have the Morgan le Fay of men right in front of you to admire?”
“There’s no need for jealousy, Your Highness.”
You were just a humble fangirl admiring your bias, after all. You weren’t made of stone.
“At the stables. During the banquet. Would you like to have a portrait of Nanamin, so you can gawk at him when he’s not here, too?”
You rinse his scalp, running your hands through locks of his hair.
“I am so very sorry, my prince. Speaking of... Uh... Speaking of banquets! I hear there will be a ball."
It's a poor attempt to change the subject, and you can only give Satoru a sheepish, almost apologetic smile when he raises one side of the compress to acknowledge it as such, quirking an inquisitive eyebrow at you.
There will be a ball. In a month, to be exact. You know that not just from the growing agitation within the castle, or the coming and going of unfamiliar faces hired for temporary work, but because you had been counting the days for this very event ever since you realized this was the ball that kickstarts the main story, taking place towards the end of the prologue. It meant the heroine would finally show up.
You're not sure what it will mean for you.
“Sure, a ball...” He says, “My old folks said they would invite all the eligible maidens across the land because they want me to find a wife.”
“I'm sure you’re not too psyched about this...”
Prince Satoru vehemently nods in agreement.
“... But who knows? Give it a chance, you might just meet the love of your life there.”
“Pfft– Right, I don’t think that’s going to happen.”
“And why not?
“Well, what if I already met the love of my life?”
Then that would be some pretty weird timing, Your Highness. Prince Satoru wasn’t supposed to meet the heroine until a few days before the ball takes place, in a beautiful clearing out in the countryside, where they’ll share a lovely meet-cute after he nearly tramples her with his horse.
“Alright…” You spouted, unsure, “Why not bring her to the ball, Your Highness?”
“She’ll be there.”
His rosy lips curve into a conspiratory smirk, mostly to himself, blissfully unaware of the can of worms he just opened inside your mind. Had he already met the heroine? But it was way too early! It couldn’t be– or could it? You’ll have to check the makeshift calendar on your notebook. The timeline you wrote down, as well. There has to be some sort of plot hole you’re missing, or maybe the events have been thrown out of place for some reason.
“But you’re right, maybe a ball won’t be so bad. They said any eligible maiden across the land, rich or poor, of high or low birth. It’s an opportunity!” He announced, the last word said with enough enthusiasm to make you jump.
Once again, you don’t have the time to ask what he means– or to avert your gaze as he abruptly steps out of the bath, getting an eyeful of his bare ass against your will. You pat him dry with a towel as he helps himself to the tray of tarts and macarons. He extends both arms when he’s done so you can slip on the velvet, deep blue robe back on his body. Another towel is wrapped around his head.
The robe keeps him warm as he sits on a chair, waiting for you to come and finalize his night routine. You stay behind in the bathroom, emptying the bathtub, turning out the fire, disposing of the unused boiling water since Prince Satoru had decided to cut his bath short tonight.
When you close the door behind you, the smell of flowers and citrus is still in the air, stuck to his skin. You hum a tune as you brush his hair, its strands like gossamer, offering no resistance to the bristles.
“(Y/N).”
Gojo lifts up his head, not a hint of playfulness in his face or his tone.
“Yes, Your Highness?”
And yet his eyes are soft as they burn into yours, as if thinking, evaluating.
“Who, in this land, is the fairest of all?”
Every time he asks you this, you wonder if there was some dialogue you missed in the game. Nevertheless, the blatant reference makes you want to laugh; with him, though, the answer is always the same. There is no one to overshadow his beauty, objective, obfuscating, infuriatingly incontestable, and he knows that– you know that.
“You alone, my prince, are the fairest of all.”
If you were anyone else, you’d swoon at the smile he graces you with.
“By the way, I have something for you.”
There is a small box on the table he’s seated by, simple, with a golden latch, inconspicuous enough to only catch your attention when Gojo slides it closer, opening it to reveal an assortment of herbs tied together with a string.
“Since you ran out of valerian root…”
There wasn’t a single herb you could recognize, at least not with the dim candlelight. Despite this, you were pretty certain there was no valerian in that box.
“How did you know, Your Highness?”
“Those eyebags under your eyes, I know you haven’t been sleeping well.” He says, matter-of-factly, “Some old hag passed by the hunting lodge today, selling all sorts of things. Said this was a potent mixture of herbs for those with sleeping problems. It’s all safe, I’ve had the royal apothecary check it.”
You breathe a sigh of relief, retrieving the box and holding against your chest. You hope it knocks you right out. Heavens know you need it, after today.
“This is so generous, Your Highness… I don’t know how to thank you.”
“No need.”
He latches the box closed.
“Just have a deep, dreamless sleep for me.”
It was the very witching time of night, and the castle lay silent. Darkness reigned in its corridors, desolate and cold, broken only by flashes of lighting tearing through stygian skies.
Take pity, take pity on one who is sick of love.
Fire dances at the top of a candle, threatening to vanish at any moment, as one living soul treads through slate flooring, airy footsteps growing closer to your chamber door.
Satoru feels guilt twisting inside his stomach, that nauseating feeling of contrition before consummation. It doesn’t stop him, it never did – he isn’t delusional as to think his actions are without sin, but at least he knows he isn’t fully without a conscience. And yet, what is the point of guilt, overridden by excitement, conquered by overwhelming love, as he turns the key to your bedchamber, to defile you once again?
Defile, Satoru thinks to himself, is such an ugly word.
Your door doesn’t creak when opened. A simple spell to ward off prying ears, lest he has to replace another servant; Satoru had come to learn how thin those walls could be, sensitized to the littlest of noises in the dead of night.
He locks the door behind him, placing the candlestick holder on your bedside table.
There’s not much to see in the darkness, except for your pliable, sleeping form. You don’t feel the weight of your mattress shifting, so deep in slumber, as Satoru sits by the edge of your bed with the familiarity of a husband; and he likes to pretend, too, that these late-night rendezvous have an amorous twist to them. Isn’t it romantic, to be visited by a paramour so secretive you’re neither awake nor aware to receive?
What is he, if not a dedicated, twitterpated, infatuated princely lover sneaking through the hallways of his own castle to meet his beautiful dove, his golden trinket, his falcon’s eye–
But he isn’t delusional as to think his actions are without sin.
Satoru knows there’s nothing appealing about exploiting your vulnerabilities. If you were to ever find out, if you were to open your little eyes at this very second to see him stripping of his undertunic, the lovely relationship you’d built would crumble in a matter of seconds. It would break his heart into a million pieces, to see the horrified look of realization upon your face. And he feels the burning of guilt at the back of his mind, easy to dismiss, as his hands roam your body, past your clocked stockings of cotton and up your white shift.
He would hate to hurt you.
Which is why you’ll never find out. Your relationship can bloom into something far more precious that way, and soon he won’t need these nightly visits to fulfill the base needs you ignite in him. He often dreams of your wedding night, with you awake, receptive to his embrace, and then he’ll finally cross the one line he hasn’t dared to trespass all these years.
The shift is carefully slipped off your body. His cock is dribbling with pre-cum, twitching at the sight of your hardening nipples. He bedews one digit with his saliva as he lays by your side, spreading your legs just enough to slip one hand between to stroke your clit, peppering your breast and neck with kisses, nibbles, and nips.
Your body is more than accustomed to his touch by now – and for a moment, he wonders if you’ll be confused on your wedding night when, just like now, your folds grow wet with so little stimulation. Soon he hears the change in your breathing as it becomes heavier, increasingly ragged, little whines starting to come out of your lips.
Still, you don’t wake.
Not even as he slides a finger inside your soaked entrance.
It’s tight, temptingly tight, torturingly tight, but Satoru has enough self-control not to push himself through your folds. Not tonight. He can wait, he will wait until, eventually, you’ll be awake and willing to take his cock. He takes comfort knowing that day is not too far.
Satoru sits between your legs to rub his cock as he fingers you, biting his lip as not to let a wanton groan out.
"Fuck..."
It's not very regal to swear. He's never done so in front of you.
His voice is already strained, not above a whisper, when he sits up, settling between your legs to rub his cock with one of your limp hands. There are two fingers inside you now, Satoru biting his lip as to repress a moan stuck in his throat. He hates having to keep quiet, but the walls are thin, and it would be a lot more trouble than it's worth to deal with nosy neighbors.
Satoru isn't alarmed when you stir, eyebrows knitted slightly as he kneaded your clit with his thumb. It's not a sign you're waking up.
His fingers are coated in viscid, clear juices, thrusting in and out of your pussy with practiced ease. He can barely keep them inside when you tighten up, little tremors running through your body as you cum with a strangled whimper.
Satoru forgoes your hand in favor of positioning himself on between your folds, using your wetness to rub his length along your pussy, prodding at your clit with each upward motion. He’s lying atop you now, muscled chest glued to yours, gently suckling on your neck and muffling his low, guttural groans on your skin. His hips move at a controlled pace, refraining himself from how rough he wants to be with you – he’s still hung up about Nanami, after all –, feeling his own orgasm approach.
Your bed doesn’t creak, either.
He thinks of finally being enveloped by your insides, how your velvety walls would choke his cock when he made you cum. How your lips would touch his and you’d kiss, really kiss, how your body would respond to his touch when awake. What faces would you make for him? Would you look away, embarrassed, throw your arms around him and hold him tightly to you? He was dying to see you, to fill your womb as he looked deep into your open eyes.
Satoru Gojo isn’t delusional as to think his actions are without sin.
He’s delusional to a fault. And as much as he feels bad for you, for his horrible acts of debauchery against your unresponsive body – and all other perversions along the way – there’s hardly any guilt when he grips his cock with a tight fist, tugging at his length as spurts of pearly-white cum land on your bare stomach. His chest heaves, breath labored, half-lidded blue eyes staring at his handiwork with a dopey smile on his face.
Lightning illuminates the room, followed by thunder rumbling so deeply across the earth he swears he feels the walls shake. Candlelight flickers.
He cleans you up, not a trace of arousal to be found when he’s done, shift slipped back onto your body. For a moment, he sits at the edge of your bed again, leaning back on his arms. How he would love to wake up with you between his arms – but alas, you’d be much alarmed to see him by your side when morning comes.
He dresses himself, not before placing a chaste kiss goodnight on your forehead.
A ball, he ponders, that ought to be fun.
And as he leaves, candlestick holder in hand, locking the door behind him, there’s no guilt badgering his mind – only dresses. A selection of skirts and frills fluttering about, an appointment with the best seamstress in the kingdom; Satoru wonders which design he’ll choose for you to wear at the ball, smiling smugly to himself as he skips down the hallway, back to his chambers.
You wake with a startle, groggy, disoriented.
Resting in its usual spot at your bedside table, your trusty pocket watch indicates you’ve woken up a little over fifteen minutes later than you’re supposed to – Not too bad of a delay, which eases your initial panic. You’ll have to hurry up a bit when getting ready, but at least you won’t be late for work.
The herbs have worked a little too well, you conclude – gifted you dreamless sleep, devoid of interruptions, knocking you out barely an hour after drinking the tea you brewed. Although you had yet to fully wake up, there was newfound motivation to get on with your day after a much-needed good night’s sleep.
You make a mental note to properly thank Prince Satoru again. It was unexpectedly considerate of him to notice.
A shiver runs down your body as fresh air enters through your bedchamber window, caressing your face with its gelid touch. You see movement downstairs, servants and knights who have begun their day earlier than you. Beyond castle walls you saw the city, merchants coming and going through dirt roads among trees painted in breathtaking yellows, oranges and reds, its fallen leaves scattered over green grass. In the distance, you see neighboring villages, castles so far, they nearly faded into the horizon. The sun is out again, blue skies adorned by white, fluffy clouds.
The faint, comforting smell of freshly baked bread hits your nostrils.
You should get ready– you don’t want to be late, of course. But there is time for a quick look in the mirror, to check if your exhaustion-induced eyebags have been minimized, even if ever-so-slightly. It’s only then that you notice, attention diverted from the area around your eyes, three small, faint red spots on your neck and collarbone.
You touch them, briefly wondering where they could possibly have come from; but you don’t have the time to dwell on it for more than a few seconds, your neck will be covered regardless. One last look at the mysterious marks and you shrug, brushing them off. It’s nothing to worry about, anyway.
Must have been a bedbug.
#tw noncon#tw somno#tw somnophilia#tw yandere#yandere jjk#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere gojo#yandere gojo satoru#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere x y/n#yandere gojo x reader#yandere gojo x you#yandere jjk x reader#cw yandere#dark fic
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summary: paul atreides x plus sized afab servant!reader
cw: power imbalance, somnophilia (dubcon in my mind as the reader wouldn’t push him away if they woke up but feel free to skip this if you could feel icked out by it), petplay (cheated again and didn’t make it explicit but it’s very petplay coded in a way), size difference (paul’s the skinny bf that would fall over if a gust of wind was strong enough), paul eats reader out, crack treated seriously vibes bc he’s so awkward 💀, ambiguous somno occasion (like how the reader fell asleep), implications of improper use of the voice but it’s weak for this paul era so reader could probably push against it, possible dune lore inaccuracies idk don’t think just vibe
wc: 1k +
block & move on if uncomfortable !!!
don’t repost, translate, or give ai my work
kinktober masterlist
You’re having the same dream again. Paul Atreides, the duke’s son who you are tasked with looking after is the star.
He looms over you as you lie flat on your back, though in your dream you’re never in your servant’s quarters. No, the surrounding walls bear a more striking resemblance to Paul’s bedroom. You’re always groggy in the dream, which is a strange feeling to have when you usually are profoundly awake in your other dreams.
You’ve only been having this one since you arrived on Caladan from a smaller planet with no name that they took ownership of. Paul Atreides had seemed to seek you out like a moth to a flame, making a beeline for you and demanding in front of your mother that his father hire you. Even weirder was the fact that the ships belonging to the Atreides left immediately after you agreed to go with them, as if the trip had only one purpose.
“Shh, mouse, it’s just me. Don’t wake up.” He whispers, nuzzling his nose against yours and pecking your lips.
You lie there in a daze, eyes wide and mouth agape as Paul reaches for the fastenings of your top. It’s an orange silk number he gifted you, all your clothes are. Your breaths come out in shallow pants, the disbelief that Paul Atreides would be disrobing you with the intent to bed you is overwhelming. He gives your plush curves loving squeezes as he reveals more and more skin.
Eventually you’re stark naked under him. You sluggishly try to cover yourself with your hands but Paul swiftly knocks them aside, pinning them to your sides so he can drink in the mouth watering image. You have no idea how many dreams he has had of you, ones concerning moments like these and ones about the life you’ll experience together in between. A gaggle of tiny feet playing tag around his throne, domestic mornings of blissful silence waltzing in the dining room.
“I…. I have never seen anyone as beautiful as you, i swear it.” Your heart skips a beat, despite knowing very well that this is all some passing fancy. Dreams never have to see the light of day, so you can luxuriate in your delusions.
Paul leans down to shakily mouth at your collarbone, scraping his teeth against the skin and playing with your love handles. You whimper as he litters your rough skin with love bites, you open your mouth to apologize that it’s not as smooth as a noble consort’s would be, but something in the way he shoves his tongue in your mouth to silence you tells you he somehow already knows.
You poke and pull at his dark shirt, the fine black material feeling like heaven but you’d rather it cover your garments next to the bed.
Paul chuckles, nipping at your lips and pulling back to shirk his clothing off. He throws it across the room and goes back to kissing his way down your thick body. Once he reaches your stomach, he takes extra special care to dote on the rolls of skin, softly kissing and pressing his forehead against them.
“You would be a beautiful bride, you know…”
“Um… thank you, sir.” You squirm, all the attention on someone like you from someone like your employer’s son becoming too real. The Paul Atreides would sooner be lost to the sands of Arrakis than utter those words to you in the waking world, but perhaps your long harbored infatuation has leaked into your subconscious.
He smiles, as if charmed by your shyness. “You’re welcome, mouse.”
His favorite nickname for you, given to you due to your adorable scurrying around to avoid others and shy high pitched squeaks that you use instead of words. (Also because he saw you crouch in a corner and nibble on a piece of bread that you had managed to snag from the table.)
He sits back on his heels to grab your thighs, the skin bulging in between his fingers. He draws you into a slow and sensual kiss as he pushes them apart and sinks into the empty space. You squeak in shock when you feel something stiff press against your wet pussy, but Paul only shushes you in your head and you relax again.
“Mmm~” He hums, flicking his tongue against the seam of your lips and lifting himself to hover over you once more.
He winks before tightening his grip on your thighs and stretching them wide enough for him to slink down and have access to the small hole at their apex.
You jolt when he presses a soft kiss to the top of your mound. You squeak and try to close your thighs around his head but he doesn’t let you, keeping your thighs pinned to the bed and licking a flat stripe up your pussy.
“So sweet, mouse….” Paul grins and repeats the motion a few times. “I could just spread you out over the table whenever I need to eat.”
You moan at the attention, desperately wishing that you could grind against Paul’s mouth but it feels like something more than his grip is holding you back, something about the touch seeming too vivid. You shake the thought away and sink your fingers into his hair, brushing any strays away from his face as he moves to suck on your clit.
He hollows out his cheeks a bit to get better suction on your fat clit. Paul nuzzles his face as deep into you as he can possibly get, the chubby lips of your pussy sandwiching his nose. You wrench your eyes shut as your pleasure builds and builds, but a single thin finger eases into your hole right as you’re about to tumble over the edge. The intrusion isn’t painful so much as it is entirely foreign to you, the second finger goes in much easier.
The combination of eating you out and finger fucking you makes the knot in you stomach blessedly come undone. Paul swallows it all down like there’s no better substance in the grand scheme of the universe.
You hope to have this dream again tomorrow, even at the cost of being able to look Paul Atreides in the eyes.
#kinktober#paul atreides#paul atreides x reader#paul atredies x reader#paul atredies smut#dune#dune x reader#dune x you#paul atreides x you#paul x reader#paul x you#paul atriedes#⚰️.deaddove#tw somno#tw power imbalance#yandere themes#male yandere smut#male yandere x reader#yandere smut#dune smut#yandere x you#soft yandere#yandere x reader#male yandere#yandere male#dark fic
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nikto and somno?
cw: somnophilia, non-con/dub-con, dark content. dead dove: do not eat. MDNI 18+
nikto has a gross form of enjoyment and fulfilment. his pleasure and gratification is shameful and taboo to most, who don't understand his need and strong crave to feel the warmth of your sleeping, tight pussy pulsating around his thick, veiny shaft.
his balls are pressed firmly against your tight rear, grinding himself against you gently. nikto rolls his broad and muscular hips against you, letting out a hearty grunt beside your ear, muttering russian curse words at the throbbing, pounding sensation of your gummy walls clamping down around his weeping dick.
he finds joy in remaining still whilst balls deep inside your cunt. it helps him fall asleep, whilst nikto's roughened fingers rub your hips in soothing circles. perhaps he's a control freak — desperate to be in charge — or maybe, he just yearns for that trust between you two, for you to allow him to have his way with you whilst unconscious and completely defenceless against his corrupted and sadistic needs.
as long as you're completely unaware, nitko sees no issue...
#dead dove fic#dead dove do not eat#tw: dark content#dark cod#tw: non con#tw somno#tw: somnophilia#tw: somnophillia#cod nikto#call of duty nikto#nikto#nikto x reader#mwii nikto
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🎀No Rest for the Wicked🎀
(Somnophiliac) König !!
im impatient and couldn't for the life of me wait for the poll to be over in a week, so here you go! Somnophiliac Konig FTW !!!
- 18+ NSFW, so MDNI! 🔞
- Fem anatomy used
- WC: 2.2K (not proofread bc again, my coochie wrote this)
I added a sound for this one, since this is the song i listened to while writing it! love me some lumi athena <3
This one's just plain filthy! Enjoy 💗
Whenever Konig sees you sleeping, his mind can't help but wander to what you're dreaming about. He can't help but stare at you for long periods of time, just thinking about you, letting his mind be utterly ravished by you. It always starts out innocently: He watches you breathe deeply, your chest rising and falling with every expansion of your lungs. He watches as your lips part, eyes moving around behind your eyelids as you dream about whatever it is that was on your subconscious mind.
He talks to you gently as you sleep, knowing you can't hear him. His nightly one-sided conversations often range from seemingly insignificant confessions, to admitting his filthy obsessions over you that he would surely be too ashamed to say out loud.
"Mein schatz...You drive me so crazy. Every second of the day, I just want to touch you...to love you. To be inside of you..." He'd say, feeling himself getting worked up just watching you take his words in, without knowing you are. He contemplates what else you can take in without knowing. He'd imagine you just lying there, your peaceful sleeping form blissfully unaware as your sweet plushy walls subconsciously clench around him, pulsating with every beat of your heart.
When you first started finding yourself falling asleep near him, he would never think of doing such a thing to you, even though it darkly plagued his mind every time you slept near him. It drove him crazy, just watching you. He didn't know why he was like this, and he would always stop before you woke up. A much different ending than how it happened nowadays. But before you became aware of what he was doing, waking with a confusion and a sopping wetness between your legs, feeling the pleasure and utter ecstasy running through your veins, part of him always had the impulsive need to run his hands over you while you were asleep, and more. It would start small, like gently running his large hands over your face, testing how much of a heavy sleeper you were, how much you could take before your pretty eyes fluttered open in confusion and lostness.
There were times when you stayed asleep through all of it. From when his heavy breaths caressed your sleeping face, practically drooling as he grinded himself against your ass, feeling himself harden and jerk with every touch of your skin against his. He'd move his hands to your breasts, fondling your nipples and watching as they hardened against his fingertips subconsciously. He watched as your breathing hitched in your sleep, your dreams probably taking a very nasty turn. He'd take the fat of your thigh in his hand, lifting it and gently turning you on your back, as to not wake you by being too rough (even though he wanted nothing more than to absolutely ruin you). He'd shuffle down, placing his head between your legs as he inhaled your scent. It fueled him, made the blood rush to his cock at the speed of sound. He'd start off gentle, ever so slightly flicking his tongue against your sleeping clit, testing your limits to see if you'd wake up. He'd go in for more once he saw that you were sleeping deeply, sucking at your little bundle of sensitive flesh, your thigh jerking subconsciously. It entertained him, and had it not been for the human body waking itself to external stimuli, he could entertain himself for hours. Just watching how your body loved him even while it was asleep.
He'd smile deviously, eating you out and helping your cunt become a sopping, weeping mess in preparation for his growing cock. Once you were absolutely dripping wet, he'd slowly rise to lie next to you, turning you on your side and spooning you. He'd lift your leg up, holding them wide open as he slid his cock back and forth between your pussy lips, groaning quietly as he coated the head in your wetness. Once he was hard enough, he'd enter you so painfully slow, his eyes rolling back into his head as he held himself from pounding his dick into your cervix. He'll be propped up on his elbow, watching your face carefully to make sure you're not waken up by his insatiable appetite for your sweet little hole. Not being able to grunt and groan caused him to practically drool, wiping the beads of sweat from his forehead as he fucked you, nice and slow. And when he feels like he's had enough, he'll close your thighs over his cock, slipping it between the pooling wetness right under your pussy. And once he's found the perfect spot, feeling your clit graze the swollen, throbbing head of his dick while your thighs caress the rest of his shaft, he'll start going to town.
He'll pick up speed, pressing your thighs tighter around his shaft, feeling the familiar tightening in his core, signaling that he's about to spill his hot, sticky cum all over your thighs and cunt. His cock hardens as he breathes shakily, digging his fingers into your thighs, not caring about waking you at this point. The coil in his balls snap, and his dick pulsates as he spills his cum all over your pussy and thighs.
"Mein gott..." He whispers, his voice practically a grumble. "Look what you do to me, schatz."
You'd wake up in the morning feeling sticky between your legs, your eyes peeling open lazily as you reach a hand down to your cunt, collecting the sticky substance around your fingers. You bring it up to your nose, smelling the sour smell of sex and semen. You turn to look at a sleeping Konig, and you just knew. You knew that deep breathing, that smell of sweat and manly musk that he radiated when your pussy had just put him to sleep. You smiled triumphantly, feeling proud of yourself because of the fact that you had him so damn pussy whipped, even when you were sleeping. You in your most vulnerable moment, the moment where you felt the least sexy, had managed to turn this battering ram of a man into a horny, desperate filthy mess.
And then there were the times when you did wake up, mid thrust, confused and lost but the only thing you knew was you wanted it harder. You needed it harder, faster. He knew you'd woken up, now mercilessly pounding into you, replacing every waking thought that dared to generate with the feeling of pure, utter euphoria. His hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing as if his life depended on it. All you could think about was his dick, hard and throbbing as he laid behind you, holding your thigh up as your walls squelched and wept around him. He let out a string of German expletives, all of his sounds previously held back now releasing themselves ten-fold.
"Scheisse...my pretty liebe. Did I wake you? How does it feel when I fuck you awake, hm? When all you can think about is my hard cock, going so fucking deep that I touch your womb, hm?" He says breathlessly in your ear, his grunts and groans dominating your gentle, sleep-laced moans and whimpers as he fucks you harder. "Mm...Konig. Feels so good, baby. Please...faster?" You ask, your voice shaking and still grumbly with sleep. Your eyes had barely managed to peel open, keeping them squeezed shut as if the feeling of his fat cock inside of you would leak out if you dared to open them. "You want it faster, my schatz?" He asks, his voice hiding a bit of taunt to them. "Mhmm. 'm gonna cum, please...go faster" You ask, the need for him practically dripping from your lips.
"You will cum when I say you can, yes?" He taunts. Your mouth hung open in disbelief, whimpering and tears brimming your eyes. You were so close, so close to releasing yourself all over his cock. He loved to dangle orgasms in your face, loved to see how you crumbled to a sobbing, horny, squelching mess under him as he denied you the release you so badly needed. He loved when you cried for it, tears staining your cheeks and lips going puffy as you bit them hard, trying not to cum against his wishes. What happened when you broke that rule was a story for another time...
"Such a good little schatz, listening to me so well, yeah?" He whispered in your ear, letting go of your thigh and wrapping his hand around your hips, resting on your swollen, throbbing clit. You jerk as the pad of his thick finger circles your clit, and you start to feel a familiar warmth pool in your bladder instantly. He continues sliding in and out of you, bottoming out as you take every inch, right to the damn hilt. He fucks you harder and faster, your tits bouncing and jiggling as he watches them. He chuckles lowly, grunting in your ear as he plays with your clit. "Look at you. Such a hure for me." (whore) "Letting me use you while you sleep. You like it, don't you? You like when you wake up, my cum all over your pretty little thighs, right mein liebe?" He whispers, taunting you as you feel yourself start to stumble over the edge. Your head goes hot with impatience, shaking violently because you can't hold it any fucking longer.
"P-please, Konig. 'm gonna cum. 'lease let me cum." You beg, finally peeling your eyes open to look at him. He looks down at you and smiles, leaning down and kissing your forehead. "How can I say no when you beg so fucking good for me, dear" He replies, lowering his lips to yours. Your lips part and your jaw goes slack as he quickens his pace, the swollen head of his cock relentlessly pushing into your plushy little spot, conjuring what will be one of the strongest orgasms your body has ever managed to produce. "Cum for me, baby." He breathes. Your breathing hitches as you moan and yell into the kiss, your lips open and smashed together as you both groan and moan into each other's mouths. He presses his forehead to yours, beads of sweat colliding and slicking your skins as he rubs your clit harder, fucking you like the world will meet its demise if he doesn't fuck you so deep you feel his cock in your throat. You feel the warmth from your bladder spill into your clit as you squirt all over his fingers, your juices pooling under your thigh as you yell and moan, the only time you felt compelled enough to scream. He chuckles devilishly as you cum, your soft walls violently pulsating around his dick, his hand covered in your squirt. His hand moves back to your thigh, his death grip causing your flesh to mold around his fingers as he holds it up.
You feel his cock harden and his grip around your throat tighten again as he gets close to his edge, kissing you hungrily as you shake and spasm under him. The overstimulation makes your brain go absolutely stupid on his dick. The way he kisses you borders around dangerous, his insatiable appetite only growing as he gets closer to finishing. He groans against your lips, his hips faltering as you feel his dick pulsate inside of you, spilling his hot seed all over your walls.
"Oh, scheisse. Scheisse scheisse. Du fühlst dich so verdammt gut" (You feel so damn good). He moans, his voice shaking with pure euphoria. You breathe heavily, your thighs shaking as he pulls out from you, a sickening squelch ringing out as he does so. He lands on his back, lowering your thigh gently as he heaves. His hand releases your throat, peeling your wet hair from your face, slick with sweat. You lie there, completely dumbstruck, your mind racing miles a minute and trying to recover from the utter loss of brain cells it just endured. You hear him shift to look down at your leaking, sopping pussy, praying he'd let you recover from how he had just fucked you stupid.
He shakes his head, positioning himself beside you again. "Tsk tsk, you're leaking, dear. Can't have any of my seed escape you, hm? Let me just-" You whimper as he slides his still-hard cock into you gently, feeling his cum pool in your deepest parts as he fucks his seed back into you. "Need to keep you filled up, mein schatz, yeah?" He breathes, kissing you on your cheek, flushed a deep shade of red. You nod your head at him lazily, your eyes fluttering closed once more, your body completely spent. He chuckles lowly as he kisses your face gently, covering you with the cool comforter as the smell of pure, raw sex permeates your senses.
"Sleep now, mein liebe. I can't promise I won't bother you this time." He whispers, his voice laced with a smile. "There is no rest for the wicked, dear."
#fanfic#konig#cod mw#konig x you#konig x reader#konig call of duty#konig fic#konig headcanons#konig cod#konig modern warfare#konig smut#somno breeding#somno konig#konig fanfiction#konig x y/n#konig x female reader#cod fic#cod fanfic#konig mw2#cod mw2#call of dooty#cod fandom#Spotify
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nanami x afab reader - soft somnophilia imagine (18+ mdni)
i feel like it would take 5-10 business days to convince nanami to try somno with you, but all the begging would be so worth it when he gives in.
waking slightly to the thick stretch of his cock in your cunt, your mind hazy as pleasure seeps through your nerves like honey—slower than when you’re fully awake. nanami would be shocked at how especially delicious you feel wrapped around him, your body warm and pliant with sleep. utterly vulnerable and in his tender care.
he’d hold you close and let you make soft, sleepy sounds of pleasure as he fucks into you nice and slow. he’s not in any hurry. he wants to savor it. he’d rock into you at a languid pace, pressing deep and grinding his hips into yours. seeking your warmth, reveling in how soft and wet and willing you are while half asleep.
his heart would be full to bursting at how you trust him to love you like this—to pull pleasure from your body when your mind is still far away, clinging to the dregs of sleep. he’d leave soft kisses on your face and neck, murmuring praise about how good you are for him, how well you’re taking him.
and when you finally come around him, he’d shudder and quickly follow you, spilling himself into your wet heat. then he’d smooth your hair back as your sleepy eyes flutter open to meet his. he’d tell you good morning, his voice raspy and gentle and thick with affection. he loves you so dearly. it shows in the soft smile that plays on his lips before he leans in to give you a sweet morning kiss.
#he wouldn’t wanna do somno at first bc he doesn’t wanna take advantage of you#but i just know he’d be the sweetest gentlest most perfect lover for a somno situation#ugh i love himmmmmm#nanami x you#nanami x reader#nanami smut#jjk smut#jjk imagine#jinnie fic
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Sleeping Beauty
This one shot is an extra scene from the poly fic series, We've All Got Needs (during the skipped month after Part 18), but it can be read on it's own!
Pairings: Sanji x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 2646
Ao3 Link
Summary: Your boyfriend has yet another kink he'd like to explore with you. You tell Sanji that you trust him to take care of you, even while you're sleeping.
Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Mildly Dubious Consent, (Only putting since it's somnophilia. Sanji and Reader discuss it beforehand and full consent is given), Drugs, (Reader is a botanist and makes a tea to help her sleep heaviliy), Swearing, Smut, Established Relationship, Panty Kink, Nipple Play, Cunnilingus, Vaginal Fingering, Penis in Vagina Sex, Condoms, Large Cock, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Consensual Somnophilia, Angst, (Kinda. Sanji berates himself for all his pervy ways and struggles with that girthy cock of his), Fluff and Smut, Aftercare, Pet Names
A/N: Everything in this fic is done with full consent, and the characters discuss it within the fic. However, if any form of somnophilia or drugged sex may be triggering for you, then please do not read this one!
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“What is it?”
Sanji’s eyes went wide, his hand on your thigh gripping your skin just a bit.
“What do you mean, dar–”
“Come on,” you teased, pushing against his chest. You tilted as much as you could in the kitchen booth, narrowing your eyes at your boyfriend.
He was practically squirming under your scrutiny, voice coming out high and rushed.
“Oh, well… There’s, um–”
“What is it, Sanji? What dirty thing do you want to do to me now?”
He dipped his head with a laugh before lifting your hands to press his lips against them.
“Fuck, sweetheart. You know me too well.”
He was always afraid he’d push you too far. There were so many things he wanted to do with you, to you.
And you kept letting him. You kept saying yes to the filthy things he craved. You were an angel. He wanted to give you everything in the world.
But the more you said yes to, the more he craved.
This is too much. She’ll be disgusted, horrified. She might not feel safe around me.
Sanji chewed on his lip as you waited. Your playful little smile made his heart swell in his chest.
It’s not worth it. I can’t scare her away.
He leaned forward, falling into your scent as he kissed your soft cheek.
“You know, sweetheart, it’s nothing. Really. Would you like something to drink?”
“Sanji,” you groaned as you grabbed his arm, keeping him from pulling away. You raised your brows as you saw the tension on his face.
“Oh, this one must be really bad,” you said with a laugh, stopping as he looked away. You kissed his hands now, voice soft.
“Honey, you can tell me. If it’s not something I’m okay with then I’ll tell you, and we won’t do it. I’m not going to kink shame you, Sanji. You trust me?”
Sanji melted at your sweet, almost teasing smile. He almost didn’t hear the rest of what you’d said after you called him ‘honey’ for the first time.
“I love you, angel.”
“I love you too, baby. Now tell me already!”
You poked his chest gently, and he took a few deep breaths.
“There is something I’d like to try with you. But only if you’re completely comfortable with it, darling.”
“Well, we have been adding to the list. What filthy act do you wish to perform on my body this time, Sanji?”
“I… I want to see how much pleasure I can bring you while you sleep. I want you to dream of me, then wake up moaning as I worship your perfect body.”
His jaw loosened for a moment, his eyes heated as they bore into yours. His words didn’t quite hit your brain as you took in his body’s reactions.
“You… You want to fuck me while I'm asleep?”
Sanji’s eyes rolled back, body slumping just a bit before he could meet your eyes again.
“Only if you feel comfortable. I never want to make you feel unsafe, or make you do something you don’t like. Not ever.”
He took a deep breath, hands a bit shaky as he continued.
“If you’re open to it, I would love to touch you, to make love to you while you sleep. I would love to make you twitch and moan while you’re so relaxed. Have you wake up to pleasure.”
“But, darling,” he said as he shook some of the heat from his eyes, “I don’t need to do this. It is perfectly alright if you say no. We never have to bring it up again.”
You bit your lip, and the tiny crease between your brows was so cute he wanted to kiss it. But he waited, trying to pause his brain until you spoke.
You quirked your lips as you thought. His eyes trained on them, breathless until those lips opened, your perfect voice stunning him again.
“I want to try it.”
Sanji fell upon you with kisses and praise, and you planned out the occasion and discussed boundaries.
~
By the time your next night together arrived, Sanji had been buzzing, barely able to hold a conversation with anyone the whole day as the thought of your sweet, helpless body filled his mind.
How can she be real? How can she let me do all of these things to her?
He could barely focus on dinner prep as you stood so cute at the edge of the counter, mixes of dried herbs and plants lined up in front of you.
“Are you making another tincture, mon coeur,” he asked, trying to keep his voice even and his body from pouncing on you.
“No, I’m just making myself some tea. To help me sleep.”
Sanji walked into the corner of the counter, wincing at the sting on his hip.
“That sounds… That sounds…”
You shook your head, letting out a few adorable little laughs while you cleaned up whatever plants you’d chosen. You steeped your tea, but decided to drink it out on deck so that Sanji could function.
Dinner was agonizingly long. Especially when he saw your eyes get a little droopy.
He’s never hated dishes more than right now.
“Let me walk you to your room, sweetheart. I’ll join you when I finish cleaning up.”
“I love you, honey,” you yawned, stretching on your bed as he tucked you in. “I’ll see you in my dreams.
He kissed your smile as he whispered words of love and praise.
The restraint it took to leave was unlike any he’d felt before.
She needs time to get into a deep sleep. My angel is waiting for me to take care of her, I can wait a little bit.
Dishes and prep for the morning meal were done. Now he sat on deck, taking long drags off his cigarette as he thought of everything he was about to do.
He was already painfully hard.
He tapped softly, opening your door to find you there.
Perfect.
The dim light kissed your skin, the blanket mostly shoved away.
Sanji let out a shaky breath as he moved closer, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Your pretty mouth was parted, face so relaxed. Your arms had stretched above your head, lifting up the shirt you’d worn. He bit his lip at the sight of your panties, the cute ones you knew he liked.
He held his breath as he lifted the blanket off of your legs.
“Fuck,” he breathed, nervous to move forward. But he leaned over you, brushing your hair out of your face while he pressed his lips to yours, so softly.
She’s so helpless. She trusts me this much. How can she be real?
His button up and undershirt hit the floor before he crawled onto the bed, moving as gingerly as he could.
I want to taste her coming on my tongue before she wakes up.
His goal pulsed through him, and he ignored the pressure of his own need as he started tracing his fingers over your skin.
Your shirt was easy to push up, and the sight of your breasts made him moan, rocking forward. Your nipples were already hardening before he teased over them with his thumbs.
His gentle touches on your neck, chest, stomach, and hips made his mouth hang open.
Fuck, her body is incredible.
“You’re so gorgeous, angel,” he risked a low whisper, hoping you could feel how much he wanted you in your dream.
His fingers circled back to your nipples, and you let out the softest, sweetest of moans.
He choked out a strained whimper as he fought his every instinct to make sure your next moan was louder.
Finally, he let his fingers trail down over those panties you’d worn for him.
Wetness had seeped through the thin fabric, his fingers sliding easily as he almost came right then, with no touch to himself.
He lifted and pulled at you so carefully, until he held those soaked panties in his hand.
I’ll just… I’ll just feel you on me while I taste you. My sweet girl.
His plan to keep from touching himself until you came fell apart at the feel of that flimsy fabric. He stripped now, the rest of his clothes on the floor as his thick cock pulsed, swollen as he looked down at your gorgeous body.
“My angel,” he breathed as he lifted your scent to his face, moaning as he tasted your need on those cute panties.
Sanji was almost shaking as he brought your panties down, fisting them over his cock. He had just wanted to leave it there, feeling your slick on him as he pleasured you.
But the touch of that fabric, drenched in you, had him coming into his hand. He shoved his other hand into his mouth to stifle the groans, trying not to stumble to the ground as he filled your pretty panties with so much of his hot come.
Sanji tried to relearn how to breathe, berating himself as he cleaned up.
“I’m so fucking selfish. You give me all of this, and I… I’m gonna make it up to you, sweetheart. I’ll take care of you, I promise.”
Sanji whispered his promise as he spread your legs gently, his eyes fluttering at the cute moan you let out as you stretched your arms.
“Look how wet you are,” he whispered in awe as he moved in close. His fingers slipped easily along your folds, his eyes rolling back when he brought his fingers up to taste you.
“Heaven,” he whimpered, sucking every drop from his fingers.
He looked up at your face, still so relaxed as he spread you open. The sight of your gorgeous pussy laid out for him brought a deep rumble through his chest.
“I’ll take good care of you, angel.”
Sanji took his time with his meal, since you weren’t awake to beg him for more. He licked, and kissed, and gently sucked at every delicious piece of you. Rutting into the mattress, he ate you like you were the best thing he’d ever tasted. Because you were.
He’d pause now and then at little movements and noises you made, your body clearly reacting to him.
This only sent him further, moaning while he shoved his tongue into you. He explored you, savoring your taste like he was licking something sweet out a bowl.
You moaned again, and he brought his tongue to your clit. He let out a satisfied hum at the tiny twitch you gave when he swirled his tongue ring around that sensitive bud.
Even after he licked you clean, you kept drenching his face, more sweet wetness for him to drink.
“My sweet, filthy angel,” he teased softly, slowly pressing one finger, then two into you.
“I can’t believe how wet you are, sweetheart. And you’re already clenching my fingers so hard…”
Curling his fingers up to find that spot, Sanji sucked on your clit the way you like.
Your breathing got heavy, and he couldn’t decide whether to keep pushing, or take it slow and light again.
“Please, come for me in your dreams, gorgeous. I know you can.”
Your moans got breathy, louder, and he became nothing except for the need to please you.
The sweet flesh in his mouth started to throb, and he groaned, drinking up your pleasure as your clit pulsed.
You milked his fingers, and he hung onto your hip with his free hand.
Your legs gave weak little shakes, sleepy moans leaving your lips as your face scrunched up.
Fuck, she looks so sweet, he thought as he kept his mouth where you needed it.
Sanji left trails of kisses along your thighs, making his way to your beautiful face.
“Angel, how are you feeling?”
You let out a soft sigh, but didn’t respond.
Sanji’s eyes rolled back when he realized you were still asleep.
“You're so relaxed, angel,” he breathed, tracing his fingers down your flushed cheek.
“Soo relaxed… I bet you could take me even better like this, huh, sweetheart?”
He didn’t think you’d be able to sleep through an orgasm. That was his goal, and then he’d make love to you, press into you as your relaxed body opened for him.
But this. This.
There was no way you could sleep through it.
But maybe I can sink into her without the struggle.
Sanji knew his girthy cock was often painful, and that drove him mad sometimes. The need to shove himself into you, versus the need to never hurt you…
And you have been perfect for him. You take him so well. You told him he could make love to you like this. You’d even begged him a couple times to just force himself into you, but he couldn’t.
He didn’t mind the work. He loved making you feel good.
Between your legs again, Sanji stretched you out, three fingers moving slowly inside of you.
“My sleeping angel, so sweet for me. Just keep breathing, baby.”
Sanji fisted a condom and lube over his swollen dick, almost shaking as he stared at you. There was that cute crease between your brows again, but you were still his sleeping beauty.
Rubbing the tip of his cock around your clit made you moan again, and he forgot to breathe. He held one of your legs up, pressing your knee toward you while lining himself up with the other hand.
“Fuck. Thank you, sweetheart. Thank you for trusting me. I’m going to take care of you forever, angel.”
He pressed his thick tip just barely into you, the heat of your body already sending pleasure through him.
He pushed in a little more. You moaned softly, but still looked so sweet.
“So relaxed for me. Such a good girl. Fuck. I know you can take me, sweetheart.”
Sanji thrusted into you completely, and the sensation of your wet cunt sucking him in all at once had him moaning your name.
You moaned along with him, your eyes fluttering open.
“Good girl, so fucking good for me,” he praised as he found a steady rhythm.
“Sanji,” you whined, arching your back, “Feels so… Oh gods, you feel so good.”
“You too, my love,” Sanji breathed against your ear, leaning down to kiss your neck.
Pulsing pleasure already moved through you, your body loose, but the pressure in your core was taut.
You felt so full, Sanji’s cock leaving no part of you untouched.
“San– I’m close…”
“Come for me, princess. Let me feel my sleeping beauty milk my cock.”
He was fighting his own release, so close now as he gave you permission. He needed to feel you.
“F-Fuck. You feel so good, coming on my cock. Keep going, angel, just–”
The sight of you unraveling, twitching, drooling beneath him sent shockwaves through him, and he fucked you through your orgasm as he came so fucking hard into you.
The room filled with ragged breaths, and beads of dripping sweat, and your groan of pain and pleasure as he pulled himself out of you.
Sanji fussed over you, cleaning you both, then pulling you into his lap.
He traced his fingers through your hair, worry on his face.
“What’s wrong,” you asked, a yawn making you stretch in his arms.
“Are you okay, angel? How are you feeling? Are you in any pain?”
You couldn’t control the huge yawn that came then, but when it passed you pressed your hands against his cheeks.
“Sanji, I feel fucking amazing. I’m okay. I love you. Can we go to sleep now?”
His mouth hung open, until his eyes filled with all that gratitude and love that almost feels overwhelming.
“I love you so much, angel,” he said with a kiss, before lying down to wrap his arms around you, holding you close.
“My sleeping beauty.”
Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!
a/n: Sanji and his big dick problems in this series will never not be funny to me. Poor guy won't hurt a lady 😅
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#sanji smut#sanji x reader#one piece smut#reader Insert#fem!reader#smut#mine#opla smut#sanji fanfiction#sanji fanfic#x reader#turtletaub fics#cw somnophilia#cw dubcon#cw drug use#one piece x reader#consensual somno
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somnophilia with stepbro!rafe i’m begging!!!!!!
Dreaming
summary: the request above!:)
word count: 2.5k
warnings (SPOILERS): somnophilia (sleeping), icky stepbro, noncon, fingering, p in v, creampie, MDNI!!!
⚝──⭒─⭑─⭒──⚝
it had been a long day. you’d started with an early morning tennis match with your mom, all excited about your newest little matching skirt and top as you pranced down the stairs into the kitchen.
“mom, this is the cutest thing i’ve ever seen!” you beamed, your skirt flying up as you twirled around to show it off.
rafe had to bite his cheek as his eyes burned a trail down your body, catching a glimpse of your lacy panties that stretch just right around the curve of your ass. he knew he shouldn’t look at his stepsister like this-he does his best not to. but lately it’s been hard to control himself, especially with you being so fucking naive, practically giving him a show every time you leave your room wearing next to nothing.
“you like it, ray? s’cute huh?” you walked over to where he sat at the counter, grabbing a strawberry off his plate and pushed it past your lips, sinking your teeth in to take a bite.
“uh huh, yeah.. it’s uh, real cute.” he nodded, using every ounce of strength he had to tear his eyes away from your pillowy lips sucking the juice off the berry.
he had to work even harder when you walked back into the house a couple hours later, your previously perfect hair now a mess, sweaty and stuck to your temples and neck. your skin was shiny and flushed, and he could only imagine the way you looked bouncing around the court without a care in the world, probably giving every man there the view he wished he had.
before he could get too worked up about it you sauntered up the stairs, returning shortly after donning a bikini that left little to the imagination.
“gonna go swim, i think ward and mom are getting in too. you should come!” your voice carried across the spacious house as you skipped to the back door.
it took no convincing- he quickly rushed to change and was out to the pool as fast as his legs would take him.
and, oh, was it a good choice.
he watched you, his blue eyes hidden behind his sunglasses as you pulled yourself up the ladder, water dripping from the ends of your hair and cascading down your delicate skin. you reached your hand up to wring the water out, each droplet hypnotizing rafe as they dripped down the valley of your breasts all the way to the hem of your tight fitting bottoms.
he couldn’t tear his eyes away as you moved to lay down, sprawled carelessly across a lounge chair. your skin glistened in the blistering heat, but even then he could make out the shape of your taut nipples poking through the thin fabric of your wet bikini, rising and falling with every breath you took. every filthy thought he was having went straight to his dick, tightening his swim shorts painfully.
he thought he was about to lose it when your mom brought you a popsicle after you’d complained about feeling dehydrated. “m’thirsty mom.. but the uv index is too good to go inside right now. got anything in the cooler?”
his breath hitched in his throat as your lips wrapped around the end of the popsicle, your plush tongue peeking out to lick around the bottom. fearing he couldn’t hide his raging erection for much longer he jumped into the icy water, sighing as he broke the surface and swam to the pool’s edge.
except when he looked again, the sun had worked in his favor and melted the popsicle, just enough to cause the sugary juice to roll down your chin and drip down to the fat of your tits. his hand found his throbbing dick under the water and gripped it, slowly moving back and forth as he watched you gather the juice with your finger and clean yourself up.
˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖
he’s been aching ever since. it feels unfair to him, the fact that the world was cruel enough to allow such a perfect creation to walk amongst the world and somehow end up being his stepsister. it just wasn’t right, it couldn’t be.
the night was over now, the credits of the comedy movie rolling as ward and your mom collected the empty bowls that were once filled with popcorn and the boxes of snacks littering the coffee table.
“she looks so peaceful.” ward mutters, looking over at you as you breathe rhythmically against a throw pillow.
“i know, i don’t have the heart to wake her.” your mom whispers.
“i’ll be up for a bit,” rafe chimes in, realizing his voice is a bit too loud and eager, clearing his throat before continuing. “i’ll keep an eye on her.”
both parents thank him in hushed tones and wander off to the master bedroom after getting rid of the trash. as soon as rafe hears the latch of the lock he heaves a deep breath, slowly turning his head to fix his eyes on your sleeping figure.
you look so docile, so innocent and soft with your mouth agape, small snores escaping your lips. he hates that he feels a rush of arousal looking at you in such a vulnerable state, peacefully sleeping on the couch in the family home.
what he hates even more is the fact that he can’t stop his hand from gripping around your ankle, his rough palms sliding up the smooth skin of your calf, wiggling your leg and feeling satisfied as it flops limply to the side. you don’t move a muscle and your breathing stays completely steady. he chokes back a groan at the sight of your cotton shorts stretched around your hips, heart racing at the small fraction of skin exposed at your hipbones.
he would give anything to have you whimpering and moaning, eyes rolled back while you voluntarily give him your body as you cry out his name- but he can’t try for that yet. you’re too innocent for corruption, too pure to destroy just yet. he knows he’s sick for being obsessed with his stepsister, but a part of him desperately needs you to want him too.
rafe’s hand reaches out and a shaking finger hooks around the fabric, pulling your little shorts to the side. he bites hard on his lip when he sees your glistening pussy on display, no panties covering what he’s so desperately wanted to set eyes on for months. he drags in a shaky breath as he glances up to your face, still sleeping with no idea of his sinful actions.
his cock stiffens behind the confines of his sweatpants and his heart beats with enough force that he can feel it in his throat. his nerves don’t stop him from sliding his finger up your soft inner thigh, and your unconscious state doesn’t stop the goosebumps from erupting across your skin. in his twisted mind he can’t help but feel that this is a sign you want his touch, that you want him to continue.
and so he does. he lets the rough fingertips of his first and middle finger rub up the folds of your core, splitting them apart to reveal your pink clit.
“sh-shit…” he murmurs under his breath, bringing his free hand to push his hair out of his eyes.
as he moves to touch the tender bud, your shorts snap out of his fingers and back into place. his blood runs cold as you breathe in sharply, turning your head to fall to the other side. in a strike of pure luck your eyes remain closed, the soft rhythmic breathing returning. he decides the shorts are just in his way, they’re too much of a risk. what’s the harm in taking them off? he can definitely be gentle enough.
he moves the slowest he ever has, a touch so delicate you’d think he was scared to shatter you like glass. he hooks his fingers into the waistband and slowly drags them down your legs, so meticulous and careful. once they’re past your ankles he drapes them over the back of the couch, sighing once he sees your bare lower half uninhibited by clothing.
rafe’s mind swirls with sin, images of every way he wants you- to touch you, feel you, taste you. with a featherlight graze he slips his thumb up your wet core, swirling a small circle around the puffy bundle of nerves. he watches intently to make sure you stay asleep, being as vigilant as he can.
he moves back down, circling his middle finger around your entrance before pushing in to his first knuckle. his dick twitches in his pants when he feels just how tight it is already. slowly and with mindful precision he pushes all the way into your velvet walls, his head swimming when he feels the warmth hugging around his finger. he sits idly for a few seconds, taking in not just the physical feeling but the rush of adrenaline that has begun its course rushing through his veins.
to his utter shock, an almost silent whimper-like sound falls from your pouty lips, your hips shuffling around slightly as your body adjusts to the feeling.
she does want this.
his brain races and before he can change his own mind, he slowly curls his finger up into your gummy core, teasing your sweet spot steadily, repeatedly. your sweet juices have coated his finger, your unconscious arousal now evident as it pools out around his knuckle while he bends and thrusts his finger. his aching cock throbs and he can’t help but to grab the elastic band of his pants, pulling them down just enough for his length to escape with a slap against his stomach.
rafe brings his left hand to grip around his base and gives it a squeeze. he slowly inserts his ring finger into you, prodding your walls to stretch and make room for both digits. with his lip bitten tightly between his teeth, he jerks himself to the same steady rhythm as his fingers as they go in and out of your pussy, his breath hitching as you start to mumble and lift your head.
“w-what… mmm…” your eyes are still closed, only half awake.
“shhh s’okay, pretty girl. you’re just dreaming. go back to sleep.” he whispers softly, his fingers not stopping once.
and boy, you must be exhausted, because your head falls back against the pillow, the same steady breathing returning once again.
“that’s it.” he coos only to himself, his thumb grazing against his swollen pink tip.
i have to feel her.
he’s bombarded with intrusive thoughts- thoughts of how warm and wet you’d feel around his cock, how pliant and accessible you are as you lay exposed to him. it doesn’t take much convincing seeing as how deep of a sleeper you’ve seemed to be so far. as smoothly as he can, he removes his fingers from your core to bring them up to his mouth, sucking every drop of your arousal from them with a groan.
so fucking sweet.
with great caution and a watchful eye, he slides his sweatpants down to his ankles and kicks them away before taking place in front of you, his knees sinking hard into the plush couch cushions. the sight of his cock so close to your pussy has him thinking he could cum from that alone. he brings his length to sit atop your folds, dragging the underside back and forth across it before he lets his head brush against your clit. your body reacts and your hole nearly begs for him, clenching and fluttering around nothing.
he rests his palms against your knees, pushing them ever so slightly apart to make room for himself as he pushes his tip into you, sucking in a sharp breath as he sinks in. inch by inch your walls envelop him tightly, swallowing him as he presses into the hilt. he stops and has to compose himself, choking back every lewd moan and curse he wants to let out in fear of startling you awake.
slowly he pulls out before plunging fully in once more, throwing his head back when your pussy squeezes tightly around him in response. something ignites deep in his primal mind and he can’t stop himself from fucking into you over and over, using your unaware, sleeping body as his own personal toy. each careful thrust twists his mind into a more sick, sinful frenzy.
your mouth falls open and your body’s natural instincts kick in, moaning and whimpering as your cervix is kissed by rafe’s tip. the sweet sounds of his stepsister crying out in her sleep for him, for his cock, causes his stomach to tighten and threaten release. he draws himself out and your hips buck up, an extra loud whine escaping your lips.
“you like feeling full, huh?” he whispers into the air as he moves one hand to grip around the fat of your tit through your thin shirt, kneading and squeezing. his fingertips find your taut nipple and pinch it through the fabric, pulling and squeezing as he continues to thrust into you. and, like bodies do, yours reacts to the stimulation by being sent into an orgasm, pulsing and squeezing around his cock as you release your juices onto him.
the sensation and his sick arousal bring him to his peak, hips stuttering as he spills hot ropes of cum into you, painting your walls with his entire load. he thrusts into you as he rides out his high, and for a moment he stops to catch his breath, letting his cock stay inside of you as he leans forward against the back of the couch for support.
as carefully as he can he pulls his hips back, his cock leaving your warmth and his cum falling out of your pussy beautifully in front of his eyes.
he hates how much he loves it.
he loves how much you’d hate it.
he picks his pants up from the ground and quickly pulls them back up his legs before grabbing your soft cotton shorts and positioning them around your ankles. when he slowly pulls them up you begin to stir, and in a rush he pushes them up to your hips. he watches your eyes flutter open slowly and blink a couple times as they adjust to the dim lighting.
“r-rafe?” your voice comes out in a tired rasp.
“mhm, i’m here. you gotta get to bed.” he mumbles in a casual tone, reaching his arm around you to pull you into a sitting position.
“i… okay.” you sigh groggily, moving to your feet with his support.
your feet drag the floor as he helps you to the stairs. he holds back a demented smirk as he ushers you up them, watching his cum saturate the fabric between your legs.
this has to stay my little secret.
˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ݁ ˖
taglist: @stepbrorafe @bunnycvnts @hewwokitti3 @pinkribboncoco @rafesgiirl @beautifuldisaster88 @mousie101 @laniirackssss @ditzyzombiesblog
#outerbanks rafe#rafe#rafe cameron#rafe fanfiction#rafe fic#rafe imagine#rafe outer banks#rafe x y/n#rafe x you#obx fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe x reader#rafe obx#obx s3#obx s2#obx smut#obx x reader#obx imagine#obx fic#stepbro rafe#stepbro!rafe#somno
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somno with ellie
gorshhh when i think abt somno w ellie i just think abt her horndog ass. like, you lying upon your side, couped up and sticking out your panty–clad backside, unintentionally, but ellie can't help it– thinning her lips and grunting at a mushrooming tightness in her boy shorts. poor girl has to slink them off her legs and toss them awry hence to spooning you and peeling your panties off ever so fairly. fairly, being, one ass cheek exposed and the cotton strap now hooked beneath your butt. that rascal prods your firm nape with her butting nose tip, gnawing her lips at the relief she's getting rubbing her stinging clit against your butt. ౨ৎ most definitely allows her handsy mitts to palm your beast lightly, or maybe just right below, loft to your ribcage. "fufuufuuck.. baby, nhhhmm.." purring frustration into your ear, because you weren't awake to return her touches. ellie bolts her swollen lids shut, strangling a pitiful tear out when she cums on your butt, pubic tuft skimming over the round flesh and smearing a faint feeble of droplets onto you. her bare butt clenches up and a rivulet of creamy white dribbles over her thigh, orbiting around till it stained the bed, whining as she pushed out every last bit. you could probably even feel her abs tightening on your back, had you been awake. bro would probably succumb to slumber in that position to, boxers still off and fit like a cusp to your body.
#ellie williams#⤹𓍢ִ໋aestras asks#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams smut#ellie tlou#ellie x reader#lesbian#sapphic#ellie williams x fem!reader#ellie williams fic#ellie williams concept#ellie williams blurb#ellie williams drabble#somno!ellie#horndog!ellie#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams headcanons
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can i please request an eris x reader where she has trouble sleeping so he helps her dooze off by putting her in his lap and cockwarms her whilst he does his reports🧎♀️🧎♀️🧎♀️🧎♀️
My Simping Eris Heart could never deny this 🥵
Lapcat
Warnings - NSFW minors DNI, owner/pet play dynamics, free use is mentioned, kind of leads to Somno vibes?
🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁
You rolled in the soft silk sheets again, trying to find any warmth you could on the cold Autumn night.
You loved the Forest House, truly you did, but at times, Beron allowed the weather shield to drop to cool his heat filled below ground rooms. You and Eris had always opted for a room above ground, wanting to see the trees, smell the fresh air instead of the lingering damp soil. This was a consequence of that choice, mainly since being a daughter of the Summer Court, you had no fire magic.
You pulled Eris's pillow closer to you, breathing in his scent and shutting your eyes. Maybe if you closed your eyes hard enough, the need for sleep would take over. A soft tug came down the bond, an invitation to join him in his office.
You got out of the bed, wrapping a sheet around your naked frame before wandering down the hall and into the luxurious space your mate had spent most of the night.
Eris was hunched over the desk, his long red hair cascading in waves over his shoulder as he finished whatever paper he was on. You couldn't help but to bite your lip at the way his brow was creased, his hand slightly clenched, the muscles in his arms and shoulders rippling. "Hello, kitten," he greeted you without looking up. "Can't sleep?"
"It's too cold," you shivered as you answered him, moving as he turned the chair and spread his legs for you to stand between them. "Miss you."
Eris's lips twitched into a soft smile as he studied you and brought his hands to your hips to bring you closer. "I miss you too, kitten. Want me to warm you up?"
It was his tone, the coy smirk, and way his hands squeezed the soft flesh of your ass that had heat pooling in between your legs and your stomach tightening into knots.
His hand gently tugged the sheet, growling as it danced off of you and onto the floor in a flowing pool. He began to roam your body. Fingers brushing each curve, every delicate dip of your flesh
Eris began placing soft kisses along your ribcage as his hands worked on kneading your breasts. "So beautiful, y/n." You head fell back at the praise, a soft sigh leaving your throat as his warm hands left goosebumps in every inch of skin they touched. "Need you on my cock, baby."
It never took you long to be ready for Eris. The male would simply look at you and your panties were soaked. You nodded eagerly, stepping back thinking he'd be bending you over the mahogany desk and fucking you into oblivion.
He didn't though.
He stood leisurely, taking his time with each button his shirt before putting in on you and leaving it open, smirking at the slight of you in his clothing. He then sat again, hands undoing his leathers until he freed his hard leaking cock from the confines of his pants. He motioned you over with two fingers before pulling you into his lap, hovering above his cock. "I need you. I desperately need you, but I have to finish my paperwork and reports, okay kitten?" You whimpered, tears beginning to form in your eyes. "No pouting, princess." His cock ran through your folds, gathering wetness. He allowed the head to smack against your clit pulling a moan from you. "We'll still both get what we want."
He lined up with your core and pushed your plush hips down slowly, watching intently as you swallowed him inch by inch.
The stretch burned, igniting your body in pleasure and heat as your head fell back again and you started panting. He groaned loudly, his eyes fluttering shut against his high cheekbones once he was fully seated inside of you. You went to hook your legs over his knees, aching for better leverage to ride him with, and he tutted you gently.
Eris pulled you into his warm chest, tucking your head against his neck and kissing your temple. "Stay right here while I finish working, kitten. Then you can ride me until dawn breaks."
Your core twitched on his cock on occasion causing him to shift and give you a soft thrust that was never enough. You took a few deep breaths, calming your heart as he began working again.
The soft scratch of the pen on parchment, the warmth of his body, the feeling of fullness as his hard cock rested in your wet pussy, and the scent of warm apples and bonfire embers had your mind falling into a safe place. One you had been previously searching for in the bed you two shared.
Eris placed another soft kiss on the side of your head. "That's it, kitten. Get some good rest for me so I can keep you up later." Your eyes shut slowly against his neck as you snuggled further into him leading to him pushing his cock back in further. "Doing so good, princess. Such a pretty little lap Cat warming my cock while I work."
Your breath fell into soft pants on his neck and cheek, causing Eris to smirk. He had purposely put the fire in your room out hoping this would happen, and now, only 20 reports stood between him and fucking you while you slept, a favorite free use habit you two had started enjoying together.
The only question he had, as your core twitched and soft moans and pleas began to fall from your lips from the dreams he knew you were having was this, did the heir truly have enough self control to finish his work first?
#acotar#acotar x reader#eris vanserra#eris vanserra x reader#eris x reader#vanserra brothers#soft somno#eris fic#eris acotar
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I wanna fuck you like an animal | König x GN! AFAB! Reader
Info/Warnings:
This is a r*pe fic. Dead Dove Do Not Eat. Read at your own risk.
fanfic masterlist
———
König can't help himself, not when you look so small next to him, his tall figure towering over you; the size difference drives him crazy, makes him ache with want and need and pleasure as he fucks into his hand in the middle of the night, thoughts of you- of how tiny you are compared to him- running through his mind, images of you caged under him as he fucks into you while you scream at him and beg him to stop as you sob flash in his mind. He just can't help himself, he really can't, and he knows you'll understand- you just have to!- so he sneaks into your tent one night, knowing you'll be sound asleep by now (Konig's been watching- stalking- you for a while now, memorizing your schedule in wait of this night, in wait of the night when he'll finally make his fantasies a reality and ask- force- you to be his).
The Austrian waits until everyone is asleep, and the camp site is quiet, waits until he knows you're asleep, then unzips his tent to sneak off to yours, where he slowly unzips yours and steps in, closing it behind him.
He towers over your sleeping figure, eyes wide with the look of a wild animal and grinning underneath his mask, his teeth bared as drool runs past his lips and down his chin as he takes in your unconscious body; you're on your side in your cot, one arm under your head for extra cushion, the other held against your chest, and your legs on top of one another. You wear a white wife beater tank and a pair of grey sweats, like most of the other recruits do, but the outfit just looks so much better on you than it does anyone else. A low, guttural growl escapes his lips.
König slowly turns you over onto your back, careful not to wake you- not yet. He brings a hand to your face, long, thick fingers gently pushing your hair out of your face, thumb grazing over your pretty- oh, so pretty- lips (König has to stop the whine that threatens to escape his lips as he imagines your lips around his long, thick cock, your cheeks hollowed and spit running down your chin as he thrusts into your mouth, making you choke and gag as tears gather in your gorgeous eyes and a mixture of bile and stomach acid rises up in the back of your throat).
His hands makes their way down your throat, resisting the urge to squeeze, squeeze, squeeze, then down your chest, lightly grazing your nipples through your tank top, and down your stomach- oh, how he wants to rest his head on your soft skin, using your tummy as a pillow while he naps after a long day on the field-, until he reaches the waist band of your sweats. König slowly pulls your pants down past your thighs, lifting your hips as gently as possible to make the task easier, then does the same with your underwear, exposing your cunt to the cool night air; you shiver lightly in your sleep and König pauses, eyes trained on your face for any sign of consciousness (not that it would matter if you woke up now instead of later, as he can easily overpower you with just his size alone, though it would take away from his fun). When he finds nothing, he looks back between your legs, watching as your pussy flutters ever so slightly due to the cold and licks his lips under his makeshift t-shirt mask, his cock stiffening in his pants.
He pulls apart your pussy lips with one hand, using the other to gently swipe over your clit with his gloved fingers, then prod at your hole; you aren't wet, and his finger meets resistance, so König lifts his mask up past his lips to spit on your cunt, gathering it up with his thick fingers and smearing his saliva over your entrance, coating his glove in the process. He prods at your entrance again, still met with resistance, but his finger slips in this time, and he slowly works his thick digit in and out of your cunt, then adds another, now scissoring you open. Your unconscious body begins to react to König's protrusion, slick slowly building between your legs and coating the gloved fingers inside you, making it easier for Konig to slide his digits in, out, in, out.
Konig pushes his long fingers farther inside you until he's knuckles deep, and you shift again, a quite moan slipping past your lips. The man looks up at your face to see you still sleeping and smirks under his mask, pulling his fingers back slightly, then pushing them forward again; his grin widens when you moan again, and he's tempted to take you like this, to finger you to completion, but he won't, not now, at least. No, he wants you to cum on his cock, wants you to wake up to his cock inside you as he pumps you full of his own release and your bodies become one.
He pulls his fingers out of you, watching as your pussy tries to pull his thick digits back in, squeezing around nothing; König smacks at your cunt and your pussy flutters in response, and you whine in your sleep, the sound heavenly to König, who feels his cock throb in his pants, restrained by the fabric of his boxers. He grabs at your ankles, sliding your body down your cot until your legs dangle off the edge, and he fully removes your pants and underwear, throwing them to the ground (he wonders how you haven't woken up yet, but he's grateful, happy to play with your sleeping figure for a little while longer). Then he quickly unbuckles his belt and pulls down the fly of his pants, tugging both his pants and boxers down to his thighs. König once again lifts his mask, this time spitting into his gloved hand and jerking his cock a few times, then he spits onto your cunt once more. He rests his free hand on your lower abdomen, palm open, and uses his thumb to circle your clit; with his other hand still around his dick, he positions himself at your entrance, slowly sinking his thick cock into your wet pussy. It takes a bit of effort, as he's girthy, more so than his fingers, and he didn't spend long stretching you, but it's what he wants, he wants to split you open on his cock and he wants it to hurt, wants the pain to make your cunt burn before it turns into pleasure.
The Austrian pushes the tip of his dick inside you, not stopping when he feels you begin to stir, instead forcing himself all the way in, in one quick thrust, his heavy balls slapping against the flesh of your ass cheeks. König groans as you squeeze around him, moving his huge hands to grip at your waist like you're nothing but a doll, your name rolling off of his lips. He pulls out slowly, reveling in the way his cock drags against your walls, stopping when his tip catches at your entrance, then pushes back in, not wasting anytime in setting up a brutal pace. He wants to wreck you, wants to ruin you in your sleep until you wake up, wants to watch the look of recognition flash of your eyes as you realize what's happening, realize what your Colonel is doing to you, fucking into you like an animal- like a monster- and knowing that you can't do anything about it but scream and cry because König is so much bigger than you, taller and stronger than you have ever been, and fighting against his harsh grasp would do nothing to save you from the man- monster- above you.
Under him, your body jolts and you start to wake, eyes slowly opening as an incoherent murmur leaves your mouth; your vision is blurry, and your mind is fuzzy, you don't register what's going on, assuming you're just having an extremely erotic and incredibly real feeling dream. That feeling doesn't last long, though, because the pain between your legs is all too real, stinging and burning with every thrust of the person above you, and all too real is the feeling of blood sliding down your ripped entrance and dripping down your ass, too. Suddenly you're fully awake, eyes shooting open, wide with panic, and your mouth opens in a scream that doesn't last even a fraction of a second before a hand much, much larger than your own is slapped over your mouth, covering the full lower half of your face, leaving only your teary, frantic eyes visible as the recognition finally kicks in and you realize just who that t-shirt made mask belongs to and the tears start to fall.
A deep moan dances past König's lips as you struggle against him, scratching and kicking at him the best you can in this position, fighting with all your energy to escape his towering figure and his powerful strength- to escape him- your wasted efforts doing nothing except turn the man above you on even more. König thrusts into you at an animalistic pace, hips snapping forward so harshly that the movement jostles your whole body; his thrusts are deep, too, and you can feel him abuse your cervix with each slide in, you swear you can feel him in your stomach. And you can, because König moves the hand bruising your side to your stomach, pushing down on the bulge in your belly to feel the outline of his cock inside you. The feeling is enough to make you cum, your body betraying you in your weakest moment, and the sight enough to make König cum, you squirting around his cock as he stills and shoots his seed directly into your womb. You cry as you orgasm, tears and snot streaming down your face as your body convulses around König's dick.
König removes the hand from your mouth to grip your jaw, digging his fingers into your cheeks to force you to open your mouth; he lifts his mask to his nose, revealing the sickening grin on his lips, and spits directly into your open mouth, kissing you right after and shoving his tongue in your mouth. As he kisses you, he moves his hand to your neck, squeezing so hard that you can no longer breathe, and when your vision begins to fade, and your eyes start to close— he lets go. You gasp for breath, sobbing harder than you ever have in your life as snot and tears stream down your face and run down your chin, some of the mix falling past your lips and into your mouth, and König takes the opportunity to shove his fingers down your throat, making you choke once more. He begins to move his hips again, fucking into your cunt as you gag on his thick fingers, bile rising up in your throat; he pushes his digits farther down your throat, until you puke around his fingers, and only then does he remove his hand from your mouth, grabbing at your chest before wiping his fingers on your shirt as vomit spews past your lips and dripples down your chin, mixing with the salty tears and mucus already accumulating on your skin.
The man above you groans, continuing to thrust into you at a brutal pace despite the smell of vomit staining the air. He wants to fill you with his release until your stomach inflates, wants you to breed you until you have no choice but to birth his kids, wants to impregnate you and see the shame in your pretty eyes as you walk around with his offspring growing inside you. And he wants to make you cum as he takes you, wants you to cum on his cock as he shoots his kids inside you; he's determined to make you cum again and again and again. And he does, he makes you orgasm one after another without stopping, makes you reach a constant release until you're cumming dry and your eyes roll into the back of your head and your body goes limp as you lose conscious, passing out in the arms of the monster above who still doesn't stop, fucking your completely limp body like a ragdoll until he's releasing inside you again, filling you up so much that a mix of his cum and yours drips out of your abused hole despite his cock still sheathed deep inside of you.
When König finally pulls out, cum flows out of your weeping cunt, mixing with the blood from your torn skin, leaving a puddle of white and red between your legs and under your ass. He whines at the sight, giving your pussy another harsh slap before lifting his mask and dropping to his knees to shove his tongue inside your cunt, lapping at the mess of sticky white as his nose rubs against your sore clit. He stays there, eating you out and drinking in your juices until your legs spasm around his head in another dry orgasm despite your unconsciousness, and he has to hold your legs apart with his massive hands so you don't crush his skull with your thighs, though if this was how König were to die, between your legs after forcing orgasm after orgasm out of you all the while stuffing your cunt full of his seed, he finds he wouldn't mind.
(When you awake the next morning, your Colonel is gone, but the traces of last night, of what he's done to you, are still there; a mix of dried tears and snot and puke stick to your face and neck, and you can feel the crusting of left over cum on your ass and on the outside of your cunt, and your body is so, so sore, pain taking over your system as you begin to cry once again. Memories of last night flash in your mind like strobe lights, and you swear you can still feel his hands on you, can still feel his length inside you, and your chest heaves up and down as your breath becomes shallow and erratic, hyperventilating until your vision becomes spotty and your mind shuts off as you pass out once more.)
#dead dove do not eat#könig x reader#gender neutral reader#gn reader#könig cod#könig modern warfare#könig call of duty#könig x you#könig mw2#könig mwii#könig smut#könig#cod#call of duty#modern warfare ii#cw noncon#cw somnophilia#cw somno#dead dove fic#smut#smut fic#colonel könig#afab reader#breeding k1nk#Kenny Writes Shit
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Let's Just Pretend This Never Happened
Layla's been having the best sleep of her life these past few weeks. Wonder why that is...
Original on Ao3
CW: Tentacle Sex, Noncon/rape, Somnophilia, Egg Laying, Eggpreg, Oviposition, Forced Pregnancy, Unaware Victim, Public Humiliation, Semi-public Birth, Orgasmic Birth, Aphrodisiacs, AFAB Main Character
Word count: 2,089
It’s night, quiet in the little apartment. Save for the soft and groans of a woman resting peacefully unaware of what was happening in the waking world.
In her dreams, she saw men thrusting inside her. An orgy occurring over and over, all stuffing her with cum and pushing her to the edge. Outside, in her bedroom, a mess of tentacles was tediously preparing her.
This monster was currently six tentacles deep inside, large enough to fit a soda can. Not that the woman was aware. She was comfortably asleep, a soft moan leaving her lips every so once in a while in time with the unequal thrusting into her hole.
The monster was very happy with how its current victim has come along. They had spent the past few weeks slowly opening her up without her ever waking up or concerning herself with how slick and sensitive her pussy was when she did. Instead, the woman seemed to have enjoyed it’s nighttime defilement. She had woken every day this week to immediately masturbate herself dumb before going to work.
The monster had purred in delight at that. It’s victims had usually raised some level of suspicion after a while, but not her. It remembered it’s first night with her, how it was unsure she’d ever be a good fit to fill with their young. It couldn’t even fit one of its smallest tentacles inside her without constant soaking of its natural lubricant.
Now look at her, taking six of its largest, now adding a seventh. Each tentacle that thrust inside her secreted a slick liquid that left her pussy quivering for more. And tonight, more would come.
The sleeping woman moaned a bit louder and writhed in the monsters hold. It was time.
With a squelch and wet pop the tentacles retreated out of her cunt. A soft whine escaped the woman’s lips. Whatever dream she was having had turned sour with the loss.
Not to worry, the monster thought, you’ll be satiated soon enough.
The largest tentacle the monster had emerged from its squirming form, the appendage it had been preparing the woman for this whole time.
Slowly, fully soaking itself in its slimy fluids, the monster entered her once more.
The woman moaned. Legs subconsciously opening wider to accommodate such a large intrusion. She pants harder as the thick tentacle continues moving farther than any tentacle had previously.
“Ahhhh-hahhhh! Ahhh!”
She gasps, eyes squeezed shut as it comes in contact with her deepest region. The prize the monster had sought after for so long: Her womb.
It presses further, deeper. Its tapered end pushing inside and working its way inwards. The lubricant gushing out and preventing the woman from feeling anything but sudden pressure and fullness.
“Ahhhhh-haaaaaa-hmmm. Mmmmm”
The monster takes a break to let the woman calm down. She was softly moaning and twisting her body, still asleep but close to release. It would be a shame if all this work was ruined now.
With an inhuman grunt, a series round orbs begin to make their way through the tentacle and into her cunt. Eggs. Their round bodies could be seen disappearing inside her and slowly protruding her abdomen. Pushing each other around to make room inside her womb. The monster lost count after a dozen went inside, but the woman takes them all.
She’s moaning desperately despite it all, on the edge of release. Her pussy quivering in time with each egg pushing inside, but unable to get the sensation just right in order to cum.
Maybe if the monster stayed longer and played with her cunt some more it could maker her cum. But alas, that’s not why it was here and morning was soon to arrive.
When the last of it eggs had pushed inside, it retreated its ovipositor. The monster was saddened that it would be unable to see its offspring emerge into the world, but content to know they would come out safely far from here.
The monster quirts a bit more of its juice on her pussy, just as a last second treat, and exits the apartment through her open window. Leaving the woman dripping in it’s slick and completely unaware of what had happened or what was in store for her.
The following afternoon, we now see our victim working in the office. Her actual name is Layla and she’s still pondering how strange her morning was. First, she had the most intensely pleasurable dream of her life. It had left her breathless and a shaking mess when she woke, but she hadn’t actually cum. Or at least, she hadn’t think she had. The slick mess between her legs proved that she had at least been overwhelmingly aroused that much was certain.
This sort of wake up had been happening to her for about almost a month now. These lewd dreams she had never had before and sudden need to get off had been so strange.
Layla bit her lip, despite how off putting this change in her “routine” had been, she couldn’t deny that it wasn’t unwelcome. The only difference this morning had been in comparison to previously was the sudden weight she felt in her stomach -err, abdominal area.
She wasn’t quite sure what to call it, but looking in the bathroom mirror that morning had proven she had gained a considerable amount of weight seemingly overnight. Luckily, this was a more casual office and she was allowed to wear a nice cardigan sweater to cover the swell. Everyone in the office had noted the change from her usual attire and had complimented her accordingly.
Layla’s cheeks burned. She wasn’t used to that kind of attention. Or any really. Quentin at the front desk had given her a special look along with his compliment. Almost perusing her body for some fantasy later. Layla shook her head at such thoughts. Quentin was far too nice and professional to be thinking like that. She was just becoming to horny for her own good. The hot pulse in her pussy agreed.
Layla squeaked at that. She could feel a bit of slick forming through her panties, her arousal seemingly increasing out of nowhere. A lurch of her newly swollen abdomen and thrumming heat told Layla she needed to make her scarce, fast.
Layla quickly and as quietly as possible got up to head towards the bathroom. Maybe her lewd mornings were making there way towards her afternoons. Maybe she just needed to quietly touch herself in the bathroom. Hoping nobody would hear her. Or walk in. Forcefully spread her open and pound her needy cunt until she begged for released.
Another surge of pleasure rushed through her, this time a yelp escaped her lips. Legs knowcked together and she had to press her hand against a nearby wall to stay upright. Her pussy was so wet right now, she didn’t think she could make it to the bathroom.
Layla scanned the area quickly, there! An empty meeting room. It didn’t have any windows and she’d be able to lock the door. Perfect. All she had to do was—“Layla are you alright dear?”
Layla turned. Mrs. Baker. Old, kind, sweet, Mrs. Baker was currently Layla’s only obstacle to getting to safety.
“Umm, I-I—” Layla stammered, another pulse of heat moved through her and se stepped back. She needed to get away before she made a fool of herself.
“You look terrible. You’re shaking like a leaf.” Mrs. Baker took hold of Layla’s hand. “And you have a fever! You need to sit down before you pass out.”
I-Mrs.Baker, I need to-“ Before Layla could even begin to explain herself her eyes turned glassy. Her pussy quaked and her head tilted back. A euphoria of pleasure washed through her and she felt a pop something inside herself seemingly released.
When Layla came back to herself, she could only assume the depraved noises that came out of her mouth as she saw the look of shock on her colleagues face. On everyone’s faces.
Layla turned and ran straight to the meeting room, locking the door behind her. Damn trying to explain herself. She needed to get her pants off now.
Layla plopped herself down on the floor, quickly flinging her pants off and surprised to find how wet they were. More surprisingly she felt a sudden lurch and squirming within her abdomen.
“Ahh!”
A cramp squeezed through her. What’s happening to me?! Layla’s thoughts screamed. But, soon another blissful euphoria pulsed through her and she felt as something exited her womb.
“Ohhhh-hmmpppph” Layla stuff her cardigan into her mouth hoping to muffle her pleasurable noises. This next cramp was far more pleasurable than the last. But now she realized they weren’t cramps, they were contractions. She was giving birth.
Knock! Knock! Knock! “Layla are you in there? Are you alright?”
Oh god no! Layla squeezed her eyes shut and spread her legs. The contractions were in full force now, each bringing her so close to orgasm. She could feel the squirming creature within making it way through her cunt slimily clawing its way out.
Her body shook and her thrust back in the full force of an orgasm as the creature pushed out of her pussy. Layla breathed heavily and only had a second to see what had come out of her before another contraction overtook her mind.
What she saw was an amalgamation of tentacles and slime no discernible features otherwise. It’s body had pulsed in colorful light that made it hard to actually discern what it was. Figuring out what she was giving birth to could wait. Birthing one of these monstrosities seemed to have made room for the rest to come out.
Pleasurable agony wrecked through Layla’s body as the “babies” moved through. Plopping out of her in a sickening squelch. She had tried to keep count of how many, she really had. But every time one exited her mind became numb to everything around her as another orgasm overtook her.
By the time it was over Layla was no longer upright against a wall, but tumped over on the ground, twitching in the aftershocks of seemingly endless orgasm. As Layla slowly came back to herself, she felt her pussy gape, trying to close around nothing, and the small puddle of drool that had formed under her face.
When she finally got up to look around, she was shocked to see that the monsters she had just gave birth to, were gone. Not a trace of what she went through was left, save for soaked through clothes.
Bang! Bang! Bang! “Layla! We found the keys to the room! If you don’t answer right this second we’re coming in whether you like it or not!”
Whatever trance Layla was stuck seemed to snap at that. She quickly put her clothes back on and opened the door to the faces of her concerned colleagues.
She spent the next few minutes in a daze as each of them questioned her and tried to figure out what just happened. It was her boss, Cara Miller, that ushered her away and into her office.
“I don’t know what happened today, but I think you should take some mental health leave.” She said in a calm manner. “And when you come back, we’ll all pretend this never happened, okay?”
Layla could only quietly agree and left to take her leave. She was only thankful for the fact that due to her tear stained eyeliner and muffled cries, the only thing any one could come up with was that she had mental breakdown in the office. Who could possibly come up with the real reason she had locked herself in an empty meeting room for twenty minutes.
It was long after the day had ended. Layla had long left the office, snug and safe in her apartment. Cara, her boss, was still working though.
The whole ordeal with Layla today had left everyone shook. She didn't blame them, of course. But they were behind and she needed to pick up the slack. That how Cara found herself in the office, blissfully unaware as a small slimy creature crawled its way towards her.
The liquid it secreted was different than that of its adult form, only numbing flesh it touched. This was important to be aware of as Cara never felt the thing as it crawled up her leg and inside her pussy. Sneaking safely inside her womb to release at a later date.
#monsterfucker#monster breeding#terato#eggpreg#monster fucker#ovipositor#tentacles#somno#cnc somno#somno breeding#orgasmic birth#pregnancy kink#Biscuit Ao3 Fics
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Happy House (part 2)
Pairing: Singh! Reader x Dark! Rafe Cameron
➥ Warnings: NON-CON touching (somnophilia), violence, obsessive & manipulative behavior, death, naive! reader…
➥ Series Masterlist
The tiles were aligned with a remarkable precision -that was something you learned from the excruciating time you had been staring at the floor-.
Rafe had trusted you enough to complain about the whole situation. And you were feeling quite ashamed by your father’s behavior.
Luring an innocent person with false promises and then kidnapping them was a new low for Singh.
So you simply kept your head low as you felt a weight pulling the mattress down. You had been sitting there for a whole minute, simply playing with your fingers.
“I’ll talk to him” You turned your head to the side, shy eyes locking in with Rafe’s blue ones. He let out a playful scoff, completely dismissing the idea.
“He won’t let me go. That’d be reckless” He seemed to be really secure, and you recognized his view was probably realistic.
“Still, it’s worth the try” You raised your shoulders.
The Cameron boy continued looking upfront, his facial features were undeniably remarked by the moonlight
“Hey. You’re hurt” You pointed out the dried blood on his knuckles.
“It’s not mine” He shrugged you off. “They look inflamed” You insisted at the noticeable bumps on his rough fingers.
The blond continued to ignore you, so you took his hand, standing up while giving him a light tug.
“Come with me. There’s a first aid kit in the bathroom” You pulled again, this time slightly harder. Still, you were conscious that no matter how much force you put into it, the blond wasn’t going to budge unless he wanted to.
You shook him again, making sure to be delicate. This time he gave up, lazily standing up as he eyed you down.
He allowed you to guide him into the reduced space, leaning on the sink.
You struggled to reach the last cabinet, your arm completely stretched when you felt an unknown heat on your back. Big palm squeezed your side as hard muscles rubbed against the thin fabric of your nightgown.
“There” He groggily whispered into your ear, hotness making you feel ticklish. He finally reached for the red bag, leaving it right on your hands.
“Thanks” You said back, leaning on him as you turned your head around. He simply rubbed your waist before stepping back.
A soaked cotton cloth laid between your small palm while you examined the state of his injuries. One small cut here and there and some inflammation was all you could see, still the red on them was abundant.
Rafe noticed your face turning into a scowl at the metallic smell, making him smirk in a wolfish way. “Are you scared of a little blood, princess?”
“No” You gulped, massaging one of them with the cloth. Your movements were soft and careful, a real contrast to his.
He simply chuckled, chest rumbling in reaction to your cute ways.
His hands were almost completely clean, and as you wiped away some residue from a thick ring, you couldn’t help but notice the detail to it.
“It’s pretty” You pointed out. Rafe focused on the piece of silver, grimacing a bit on the memories it brought to him. “That’s a family ring” His response came out with some roughness to it.
“Well, it’s gorgeous” You continued your task, not really facing him. “My dad gave it to me. That’s when I knew he finally saw me as a real man.” There was a hint of proudness in his tone, and that made you smile.
“He must be really proud” Your eyes finally locked with his sharp ones. He dryly hummed at your words. “Having such a proactive son.”
Rafe raised an eyebrow, looking puzzled. “You barely know me” He let out with no softness to it, “But I can tell you’re no quitter…and you’re brave” You smiled lightheartedly.
The Cameron boy was amused, never in his life has he heard such words directed his way. He felt weird, a new sensation making its way on the pit of his stomach.
(…)
“Don’t” Your hand wrapped around Rafe’s wrist. He was taken aback, surprised by your sudden eagerness “Sleep here” You said in a shy tone.
The mattress was huge and soft, unlike the dusty rug lying on the floor. “I mean, you must be tired and- I just-” You stumbled upon your words, afraid of being too pushy.
The dirty blond seemed unfazed as he simply pulled the covers down and plopped himself on the bed, completely comfortable with your suggestion.
The heat exuding from his hefty body was enough to get you nervous, not really used to sharing your sleep with someone else, less with someone as imponent as the blond.
Now, with your palm holding your head as you saw him uninterestedly lying on his back, you couldn’t help but feel the need of reassuring him. “They’ll let you go in no time” You weren’t sure why you said that, knowing it was probably a lie.
His eyes darkened, no real expression on his stoic face. You got the hint, not wanting to push his bottons, you got on your side -facing the opposite wall-.
And as you wished him a good night, you couldn’t avoid the sensation of being overly exposed. Still, with your nerves on peak, you were able to fall asleep in a decent amount of time.
Contrary to you, the Cameron boy was wide awake, senses thrilled as he heard your peaceful breathing. Quiet snores left you as you laid in obliviousness.
Rafe didn’t know why, but it gave him some sort of satisfaction to see you so defenseless; making him feel as if your vulnerability was exclusive to him.
The way in which your nightdress’ strap slightly slid down your shoulder was driving him insane. So much flesh on display that he felt the need to bite onto it, just to get a taste of your softness.
He gave in not long after, positioning himself right behind you.
In such proximity he was able to get a good grip of your scent, so sweet and comforting that he got the urge of burying his nose on your silky hair.
Silk. You were pure silk; silky hair, silky skin, silky clothes and silky personality. Such a contrast to his rough edges.
Without much thought, he grabbed some strands between his rough fingers, getting them close to his nose, sniffing the fresh aroma. Then, he proceeded to rub two digits against the bare skin of your neck -going up and down, from the side of your ear to your clavicle-.
The strap got farther down, tempting the blond. He took the lead, playing with the line of fabric before pulling it.
He could see your breasts slowly spilling out of the flimsy dress, noticing how they both got perky at the cold breeze.
Your mounds of flesh felt warm and doughy under his rough touch. He was careful to be delicate as he cupped one of them with his open palm. Still, in your sleepy face a frown formed.
You squirmed a little on your sleep, but that only seemed to encourage the blond to continue exploring.
Once his fingers reached your hardened nipples, a hoarse groan left his lips, hips bucking unintentionally against your soft ass.
He twisted them with contained fervor, as he felt himself hardening.
The white fabric pulled over your thighs as the blond continued to grind against your round buttocks, causing you to whimper under your breath. Rafe’s arm found its way between your thighs, hiked up skirt allowing him to massage the inner part of your legs.
Your warmth crawled all the way to his bones, covering him completely; making him want to hold you down until he consumed all of it.
He squeezed your inner thigh with frustration. Pants suffocation his desire for you. He couldn’t understand it, the boiling wish to see more of you, to taste more of you -just as if it was a need-. It was ridiculous how pent up he felt after barely touching you.
You unconsciously leaned onto him, riding up your dress and allowing some pink lace to peek under it. Rafe took the invitation; quickly, his fingertips were all over your clothed cunt. Running up and down as he felt you wriggling uncomfortably under his touch. His digits pressed harder against your underwear, creating a wet spot on it.
He smirked at that, rubbing circles over your entrance, feeling the wetness soak the fabric up.
The stimulation had you shaking so sweetly against him, breathing heavier than before as a melodic mewl reached his ears. His mouth was now on the side of your smaller face, rubbing against your puffy cheek as he heard you moaning at the friction his unrelenting fingers created.
And just as he was about to pull the piece of lace and cotton aside, he saw you slowly incorporating out of your sleep; limbs stretching and eyes opening. He backed up slowly, digits leaving your heat as he pretended to rest on his back.
Your wake up was abrupt, and the constant panting was a proof of it. Your eyes were wide open as you took in your surroundings.
The Cameron boy was deep in his own slumber and you felt yourself growing calmer. You went back to your previous position, doing your best to resume your rest.
The last thing you wanted to do was disturb the boy’s sleep.
(…)
Your heartbeat increased in less than a second, a choked scream was all you could let out as a strange hand pulled you back onto the mattress.
Your feet were already on the floor as you felt the grip of who you now recognized to be Rafe holding you down.
“Oh God” You turned to face him, your free hand on your chest as you looked into his sharp eyes.
You couldn’t help but cover your mouth as soon as you realized the loudness of your voice, suddenly scared of being heard by a passing guard.
“I’m sorry” you said in a muffled tone, looking like a frightened fawn.
His shirt had been lifted up by his sleepy moves, showing his toned torso. You embarrassingly looked away, waiting to be freed by his firm hold.
“Are the guards left?” He asked in a groggy voice, blinking aggressively as he incorporated on a sitting position. “Yes” you answered shyly “I should leave” you said even quieter.
At that, he only nodded, letting your sore wrist go as he looked intently at you.
While shutting the piece of wood behind you, you couldn’t ignore the burning sensation of Rafe’s intense gaze still following your every step.
(…)
“That’s ridiculous, Y/N” Your father scoffed, continuing to look through his investigation files without paying you much mind.
“But dad, we can not force him to stay here” You tried to talk some sense into him. “His family is probably waiting on him” Still, no response.
“How would you feel if I was the one being held back against my will?” Singh lifted up his view from the bunch of photos and documents.
“You don’t know what you’re talking about, you insolent girl” His finger now pointed aggressively at you.
“A treasure that goes back hundreds of years in history will take commitment and sacrifice…This search is way beyond your understanding” Your father’s words were conclusive, harsh tone and harsher look thrown your way.
“But, what if he actually doesn’t have the diary” You pushed again, this time being more careful with your tone.
“The diary is the last piece of the puzzle. The only way to translate the directions to El Dorado…Do you really think he’ll be stupid enough to give it away just like that?” His brows furrowed together in exasperation while his digits massaged the space in between them.
“I-” You were interrupted by a loud bang on the table. The glass of scotch shook at the violent ways of your caregiver. “Enough with this nonsense…Get out of my office before I lose my temper!” He ordered in his warning voice, letting you know he wasn’t playing around.
“Yes, sir” You looked down while silently slipping out of the room, feeling quite hopeless.
(…)
The refined wood felt great under your fingertips, such a shame it wasn’t what you were expecting.
Sure, the dresser was exquisite, brought right from India and made by the most skilled hands of famous artisans. Still, it didn’t fulfill your expectations.
You weren’t too materialistic, you appreciated love and care. But your father wasn’t the best with the latter ones, so he preferred to surround you with luxury.
Your birthday wasn’t at all like you wanted it to be, with a hostage one floor away and your father too occupied with his gold hunt, you couldn’t help but feel down.
“Hey” You looked down at the air vent. “Rafe” You whispered in realization. Immediately, you kneeled, trying to get closer to where the sound of his raspy voice came from.
“What’s up? I saw Singh going away this afternoon” The blond sounded impatient.
“Yeah… He seemed really pissed off. Probably some trouble with business” You frowned tiredly at that.
“Fuck…this is driving me insane!” You could hear his harsh voice being accompanied by a hit to the wall.
You closed your eyes in shame. “He said he’s not letting you go unless you tell him where the diary is” You flinched at the second hit, thinking of how he was probably hurt from the impact.
“I already told y’all I don’t have no damn shitty journal!” Exasperation could be clearly heard in his tone.
The silence was loud for a couple seconds. You didn’t want to open your mouth only to enrage him more, as for himself, you were sure he wasn’t feeling chatty right now.
“Of course” He chuckled humorlessly, bitterness spilling out of his tone.
“That fucking bitch and his surf rat friends” He said in annoyed realization. “It’s everything alright?” You asked dumbly, unsure of every word.
“Hell no, your father has the wrong fucking guy!” You were confused at his outburst. “…Mmm” Your brows furrowed together.
“My damn sister and his criminal friends… they certainly deal with that kind of information” He spat out, the poison in his voice being undeniable.
“Alright… then, I’ll get you a phone and we’ll contact her and-” You were cut in the middle of your sentence by a mean sneer. “That’s not how it works, sweetheart” He said harshly. “My sister doesn’t give a shit about me.”
“But, I don’t get it…She’s your sister” Your puzzlement was amusing to the boy. “She should be able to help you” You insisted with a cute frown on your face.
“Oh, she’s able to…she just won’t” A feeling of disappointment washed over you. Feeling desperate at the lack of resources to help the Cameron boy.
“I’m sorry” You said in a pitiful tone. And Rafe didn’t get why, Why would you feel bad for him? “Stop apologizing” His tone was dry, tired words slipping out of his pink lips.
The silence made itself present again, this time filled with tension. You both stayed like that for an excruciating minute, contemplating what else was to be said.
Suddenly, a new worry clouded your mind. “Have you eaten anything yet?” Your legs started to cramp for being seated too long on the hard floor, still, you refused to step away from the ‘blond’s side’.
He chuckled once again, this time lightheartedly. “That’s the last of my concerns, right now.” He took it as a joke, not really paying it much mind.
“Well, it concerns me…You could faint or-or” You stumbled across your words, struggling to back your point up. His laugh echoed through the air vent, rumbling in your ears.
“Rafe. I’m being serious!” You pouted. Rafe couldn’t believe it, you were actually worrying your little head off for him -and for some selfish reason, he seemed to enjoy it-.
(…)
“Rafe” You whispered into the room, once again you had succeeded in sneaking in. And as you looked around the room, you joyfully added “I brought a board game…and snacks!”
You stood timidly against the door, wondering where the blond was. “Rafe!” You increased the sound of your voice, lowkey panicking at his absence.
“Ra-” You choked on your own words as you observed a tall figure stepping out of the bathroom. A cloud of steam followed right behind.
You felt yourself growing embarrassed as you saw the Cameron boy walking confidently out of what seemed to be the shower.
He was only wearing a towel, allowing the droplets of water to roam freely on his brawny body. He didn’t look ashamed at all as he stood next to the queen sized bed. “You took your sweet time” He said in what you could only describe to be a playful tone.
A plain T-shirt was lazily extended on the mattress and as he picked it up, a set of huge biceps revealed themselves.
Never in your life had you seen a body as hefty as his. Rafe continued to ignore your gaze, lazily putting on the piece of fabric. A glimpse of his toned torso was the last thing you saw as he completely covered his upper body.
“See something you like?” He finally faced you, a proud smirk on his lips as he looked at your astounded face. “No!” You were quick to answer, shaking slightly at the bold ask.
Your anxiousness only seemed to fuel the blond more. A mean grin decorating his face while he reached for the flimsy towel.
The towel hit the floor, revealing his underwear. A pair of designer boxers wrapped tightly against his big bulge.
You simply looked away, gripping the bag of homemade cookies a bit too hard. The Cameron boy laughed at your shyness. “What is all that for? Are we having a picnic?” His grin grew bigger.
“Well, I figured out you might be hungry and stressed out so…” You finally dared to look his way, relived to see he was finally wearing pants.
He only hummed in response, eyeing you up and down in your sleeping shorts and thin top.
“I’m sure you could take some of my worries away” You couldn’t decipher the look on his face as he said that.
You stayed on your place, waiting for the right moment to get closer.
“C’mere” He signaled you to join, and you did, sitting right beside him.
Now, face to face as you sat on the floor, you could see the water dripping from his dirty blond strands. Quickly, you reached out for him with his towel in hand, rubbing it slightly against his hair.
Rafe allowed you to massage his scalp, surprised at your caring touch. “There!” You reacted joyfully at the almost dry result.
And just as you were about to pull your hand away, the Cameron boy grabbed you roughly by the wrist. A soft whine escaped your lips at the rough grip.
The blond completely ignored your small protest, only tightening his hold as he stared deeply into your soul.
“You missed a spot” He finally talked, moving sideways to reveal some strands of untouched hair.
You complied immediately, repeating the process in order to satisfy the blond.
He only hummed once you were done, letting you know he was content with the result.
A few minutes were invested into debating which activity had the right to be first: eating or playing and given the hungry look on Rafe’s face, you both decided on the first.
Seeing him eat made you feel lighter, now without the weight of one concern over your shoulders. “I’m glad you liked them.” You smiled sheepishly at him.
“How could I not like anything that comes from you?” He expressed in between bites, you didn’t think much of it -considering it just to be an exaggerated compliment-.
And as you picked up the residues from the floor, a new sense of curiosity raised deep within you. “So, what’s your hometown like?”
(…)
“Kildare sounds pretty entertaining” You turned your head to the side, noticing how Rafe’s eyes were already on you. “Wish I could visit someday” You looked down, focusing on the way his fingers draw circles around your thigh.
“I bet you know a couple of impressive islands” He had a boyish smirk on his face. The fingertips on your skin tickled you in a nice way. “… I don’t know about that” Your eyebrows were slightly squeezed together.
The Cameron boy stayed silent, waiting for an explanation. “I’ve never really…left The Bahamas” Your frown grew bigger.
“My dad would never let me…” You continued, a tight knot forming on your throat at each word. “He says it’s safer here” Your eyes found his, as a pitiful look made its way onto your face.
“Well-” The sound of multiple vehicles approaching the property cut him off. Engines roared wildly before parking completely.
You heard the voices of a couple men, most of them whom you recognized to be your dad’s men, expect for one.
A guy protested in a shaky voice, putting up a fight. “Rafe, wait!” You reached out for the blond’s pants, pulling from them as you desperately tried to make him sit.
The curses became begs. That’s when you heard your dad with his condescending voice. “This is what happens when you don’t zip your mouth, Mr. Portis” He was furious, you could tell.
“Rafe!” You pulled again, trying your best to keep it together as you heard desperate screams coming from the adult man.
“Rafe, if my dad sees you-” You jumped, choked whimper escaping your throat.
A gun. A gun was fired. The screaming had ceased, only to be replaced by a sepulchral silence.
You sat frozen, eyes stinging heavily while you saw the Cameron boy looking straight onto the murder scene.
“We have to get the fuck outta here” His tone was stern.
Rafe remained stoic as he closed the blinds.
A/N: Let me know your thoughts on this one! 💭
#dark rafe cameron#dark!rafe cameron#dark!rafe x reader#dark rafe x reader#dark fanfiction#dark fic#dark content#tw.dark content#tw dark content#tw noncon#tw. noncon#tw somno#slight somno#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron#rafe obx#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron x you#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x you#rafe x reader#rafe x y/n#obx smut#Happy House ✿
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Dream of Me | Pairing Joel Miller x Fem!Reader
Summary: In the dark of the night, temptation beckons. You make a silent vow to share your secret with Joel when he wakes tomorrow, but for now, you find yourself unable to resist this opportunity, much like the pulse between your thighs.
Rating: 18+ Minors DNI | W/C: ~2.4K
Warnings: Joel isn't aware he is fucking reader, so I'm labeling this as non-con, although I could also make a case that this is dub-con. Somnophilia. Unprotected P in V. Creampie. Sleeping bag sex. It’s basically PWP. There is an age gap, but it's not specified (make it your own). No use of Y/N, no use of daddy. For immersability, the reader has no major physical descriptions/graphic is for vibe purposes only.
A/N: April 2024 Update: ya'll ever go back and read some of your first stories and cringe? Yeah, well I did. I decided this one needed some love, so I've added in about an extra 1k. As a bonus surprise, I've continued this story. How will Joel react when he finds out what he's done? Part 2 is linked below.
Masterlist | Notifications | Read on AO3
In the shadowed quiet of the night, a soft moan threads through the stillness, stirring you from the depths of sleep. It's a moment suspended in time, where the fog of unconsciousness slowly lifts, allowing you to piece together the unexpected reality you've found yourself in.
Pressed closely against you is Joel, his presence unmistakable. The breadth of his frame envelopes your back, his thick arms encircling your waist. You're both lying on your side, entwined in a way that suggests intimacy, yet underlined with a hint of awkwardness that comes from unintended closeness.
You and Joel have been sharing a sleeping bag for the past couple of weeks since yours decided to grow legs and walk off to who the fuck knows where.
It’s mid-April, and while your skin is sun warm during the day, the nights are a different story. Once the sun dips below the horizon and the embers of the fire fade, you crave a warmth only he can seem to provide. Skin on skin, bodies pinned together under the nylon.
If you had it your way, you’d go to sleep in nothing but your bra and underwear, but Joel was quick to squash that idea.
“You’re asking for trouble, sweetheart.”
“Oh come on, Joel. It’s no different than a swimsuit.”
“The fuck it is, it’s bad enough that we have to share a bag, can’t have you half-naked on top of it.”
“Fine,” you sigh.
“Fine.” He thought that was the end of it, until —
“Can you at least take off your jeans? They’re dirty.”
It took some negotiation on that one, but he finally came around. Joel knows that you have a crush on him, but he’s never acted on it and swears to himself that he never will. You deserve more, better, anything but the man he’s become. But god, you make it fucking hard. Hard for him to behave, hard for him to keep his hands to himself, but above all, you just make him hard.
He’s usually good about finding time, even if it’s just minutes, to take care of himself. But it’s been over a week, and the war he rages with his cock every night is one he’s starting to lose. Each sunset ushers in another round of relentless conflict, drawing him closer and closer to the edge of temptation.
In the day it’s easy to lock away the thoughts of all the things he’d like to do to you under lock and key in his mind, to focus on the tasks at hand, to focus on keeping you safe, keeping you alive.
And it works, because you think all he sees you as is something delicate and fragile, innocent, but his cock hard at your back has you feeling anything but.
His fingers dig into the meat of your hips and clench around your pelvis. He’s not putting much weight into it, but his hold is still strong enough to leave imprints on your skin.
A deep groan vibrates through his chest, followed by a needy whine that goes straight to your core. Joel moves closer like he’s trying to absorb you into his body. His weight and the jerky movements of his hips are enough to force your body to roll over onto your belly. His hips start grinding hard against your ass like he’s trying to get deeper, closer.
Another breathy moan weaves itself between a snore and a sentence murmured in half-sleep, your name lingering on the edge of coherence.
Is this really happening right now? You pinch yourself just to be sure.
Joel nuzzles closer to your neck, burying his face in your hair. You feel his breath hot on your back, the warmth of his lips gently parted on your skin. He nibbles at your shoulder, causing a sharp twinge of pain to run through you, straight to your pussy. Your walls clench harder around nothing, and your inner thighs start to feel sticky from your arousal.
He feels so strong lying on top of you like this, just taking whatever pleasure he can from you. You know this is wrong, but it excites you way more than it should, to be used like this without him even knowing. You’re sure that he would be horrified if he knew how he was treating you right now. The thought makes you even wetter.
“Fuck,” you moan, not loud enough to wake him.
It would be so easy to just spread your legs a tiny bit, to reach down and move your panties to the side, to drag the fabric of his underwear down and let him have his way with you.
But that would be wrong, stupid, even.
This is wrong.
He doesn’t know what he’s doing and you know he’ll hate himself for it in the morning, but fuck, you want him so much. Even if he’s not consciously aware of what he’s doing, you can’t help but feel like he wants it to.
The opportunity to feel him like this might never arise again.
The protective, in-control you know isn’t home right now, instead the touch-starved, needy dark passenger you know lives within him has come out to play, and you want so badly to be wrecked by him.
The risks outweigh the benefits, but fuck it —
You slowly shimmy and drag the thin fabric of your panties down to your thighs. If he wakes up you could always play the innocent, pretend that he did all this while you were still sleeping, but you already know you wouldn’t be able to lie to him like that; even if you did, he’d see right through it.
It’s one thing doing this, taking advantage of Joel’s wet dream to satisfy yourself, but you will not lie to him about it. You’ll tell him the truth when he wakes up. You will.
You think you’re going to have to drag Joel’s underwear down, but much to your surprise, you realize he’s wearing the kind with the entrance at the front. Thank fuck for that.
As he continues to grind against you, you reach your hand back and in through the slip in the fabric and feel the soft silk of his skin, the coarse hair that rests at the base of him. You can’t see it, but from the feel of it, you can tell he’s big. So much so that you wonder if he’ll even fit through the opening of the fabric. It takes some doing, but you manage to make it work. You position his cock at a good angle, and feel his precum, all warm and sticky, beading at the tip of him.
It’s a dizzying feeling, to feel his bare cock pressed up against you, so desperate to find a home inside your warm cunt.
You pause, listening for any sign that he’s going to wake at the new sensation. Once you’re confident he’s still in dreamland, you spread your legs and adjust your hips under him, lining his cock up just right with your dripping folds.
The head of his cock only barely manages to slip past your outer lips, searching for that place where the resistance will give in and be replaced with pleasure.
Suddenly it all feels too real, and you have a brief moment of reconsideration. Just as you’re about to find a way to shy away from under him and slip your underwear back on, a deep groan reverberates through his chest. It’s throaty and needy, like his body can sense your hesitation, and is doing everything in its power to convince you to give in.
You can’t help it. You just can’t stop yourself. The sounds he’s making, the way he’s holding onto you like his life depends on it, makes it impossible to deny him, and yourself, much longer.
“Please don’t wake up Joel, please don’t wake up…” you silently whisper before your legs slide to the edges of the sleeping bag, permitting just enough space for you to fully bare your dripping cunt to him.
The new position allows Joel’s hips to move closer to yours and the mushroom tip of his cock slides right up against your wet and waiting hole. It presses in about an inch before he pulls back with a whine. He thrusts a few more times, but every time he never sinks deeper than the first inch.
You gently bow your back, tilting your hips up ever so slightly, and reach your hand back, guiding him in. You know it won’t be hard for him to glide in with how wet you are, all he needs is to find the right position. Using your fingers, you press on the side of his cock, and a second later he’s bottoming out with a quick snap of his hips.
“Joel, Fuck —” you moan, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. The stretch of him is intense. A moan escapes your lips, and you know you’re not going to get a moment to adjust to his size. If he was awake, he might be a bit more considerate, give you a second to accommodate the thickness of him, but he’s not. You muffle your sounds by biting into the flesh on your forearm, willing the subtle taste of salt and dirt to distract you from the dull burn you feel below.
The jerky grinding snaps of his hips return at full force. There’s no finesse to the way he fucks you, no gentleness or soft caresses – he’s using you for his pleasure, blissfully unaware of the bruises he littering all over your shoulders and hips.
Your only function to him right now is to be a tool for his pleasure, to be a hole for him, and you couldn’t be more turned on by the thought, even if you tried.
“Yes Joel, fuck, fuck me like you mean it,” you encourage him softly.
You know he can’t hear you, but the words come naturally, making you feel powerful; like you’ve played some role in getting him to this point. He’s always in control, always on, never letting anything slip. And thank god he is, it’s a necessity of survival, a skill you don’t have. But right now you’re relishing in the fact that you feel like you’ve gotten him to be like this, that you’re the one calling the shots for once.
You’re not just being used, you’re allowing him to use you.
It’s not going to last long. You know that.
Sometimes you hear him jacking off next to you in the middle of the night, but god knows how long it’s been since he’s had the warmth of a pussy.
You start to feel his body tremble and tense. If he were awake right now, you’d hope he’d be cursing your name and trying to hold on until you had come, but he doesn’t. He never slows down and never loosens his grip on you, he just continues to take and take and take.
He slams himself into you for a final time, flooding milky white ropes of his cum inside your walls. He’s deep, every inch of him is inside of you, and the thought of him so deep, holding all of his cum inside of you, causes the coil in your belly to tighten even more. When he’s done he doesn’t roll off you, instead, he goes limp, almost like he’s fallen further into his sleep state.
His cock doesn’t disappear instantly either and that’s what makes you silently curse again. You didn’t get to finish and your pussy is clenching around him desperately. God, you want so badly to come.
His hips still grind against your ass with the aftershocks of his pleasure, providing small pangs of arousal that keep you on the edge, but not enough to get you to where you so desperately want to go. His body is dead weight against you.
Frustrated doesn’t even begin to describe how you are feeling. And to top of off, you’re lightheaded from the lack of oxygen your lungs can take in, and your heart is thrumming in your chest.
You’re so close. So fucking close.
You manage to shift just enough for your hand to find a way to your dripping pussy. You press a couple of fingers to your clit and tilt your hips up, making Joel’s softening, but still semi-hard cock slide deeper into you.
You begin the slow climb towards the cliff of your orgasm, slowly fucking yourself on Joel’s cock and rubbing your clit. It doesn’t feel as great as when he was thrusting into you, but his cum trapped inside you makes the slide of his cock so much more pleasurable against your g-spot. A little bit of him dribbles out with each thoughtless thrust, adding to the wetness that makes your fingers circle easily over your aching bud.
Your mouth once again finds your forearm as you get closer, the perfect gag to muffle your sweet whimpers. Your walls clench tighter around Joel, making him whimper from overstimulation, but you don’t care. He got his, and now it’s your turn.
You work tight circles on your clit and you finally feel the pressure build to a point that it has to release. Your orgasm blossoms inside of you, and you let the undertow of pleasure lull you deeper into the ground, melting under the weight of him.
Seconds turn to minutes, and you feel sleep make a slow creep up into your fucked out muscles. The warmth of Joel still on top of you, the pressure of his body on yours, and his cum slowly dripping out of you, lulls you nearly to sleep.
You’ll tell him tomorrow, you think to yourself, moments before giving in and letting your heavy eyelids fall closed.
But you have a feeling he’ll figure it out for himself.
PART 2
Tagging some authors/moots who have inspired me through your writing or sweet disposition this week, thanks for giving me the horny boost I needed to get some stuff out. @toxicanonymity @josephquinnswhore @sydneyinacoma @strang3lov3 @endlessthxxghts @cavillscurls @fettuccin-e
To be notified when I post fics, follow @katiexpunkupdates
#joel miller x female reader#joel miller tlou#somno k!nk#sleeping bag#joel miller fanfic#pedro stories#joel miller fic#joel miller x you#we all love a good one sleeping bag trope#pedrohub
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Highway to Heaven (Ride)
I forgot to post this here...oops
Summary: Minho wakes up horny and Jisung is willing
Tags: Smut, power bottom!Minho, top!Jisung, light somnophilia, needy Minho, morning sex
AO3 Link
Minho woke up hot. His body was coated in a thin sheen of sweat and his bangs were sticking to his forehead. Jisung’s body had been plastered to him the whole night, accounting for most of the heat. But there was also another problem. He was hard and so horny.
He’d had some kind of wet dream–one that he now couldn’t remember–but the effects still remained. And what was worse was the fact that he could feel Jisung’s own dick pressed against his lower back from how he was spooning him, and it was most definitely hard as well. His mouth filled with saliva and he gulped it down. When he shifted he could feel Jisung twitch behind him and it only made the burning need in his stomach intensify, the ache in his cock grow.
He didn’t want to wake Jisung up. They had been busy lately and Jisung had already fucked him well before they went to sleep, so Minho knew he couldn’t be greedy, but fuck. He was so horny it was making him dizzy. He needed something, anything. He felt so incredibly empty and it didn’t help that he was still stretched from when he had ridden Jisung previously. The ache still remained in his ass and his thighs and rather than satiating him, it only made him crave more.
Perhaps he could get up without Jisung waking and get off quickly. He tried wiggling out of his grasp, but that caused him to mumble in his sleep and stir. Shit.
He inhaled slowly through his nose and tried to picture anything at all that could get his hard cock to go down–old grannies, the ugly monster from the shitty horror movie he and Jisung had just watched–but nothing worked. Jisung had even shifted so now instead of his dick pressing into Minho’s back, it was pressed into his ass, so close yet so far away from where he actually needed it.
Minho instinctively rolled his hips back against Jisung’s crotch and suppressed a groan at the feeling. His stomach stirred and his cock twitched in the confines of his boxers. He needed to stop, go back to sleep, let Jisung sleep, he–
“Jagi.”
Minho gasped at the sound of Jisung’s sleep-addled voice, followed by a press of his hips against him. He shuddered and exhaled through his nose. “Hannie?” he whispered. When he got nothing in response he huffed and clenched his fists. He was doing that in his sleep. Minho gasped again when Jisung’s arms tightened around him and he was pulled closer to the warmth of his body. Fuck, fuck, fuck—
“Sung-ah. Jisungie,” Minho called, wetting his lips. Jisung would probably want to sleep, but he could go back to sleep while Minho had a little fun, right? “ Baby,” he sang, twisting around so that he could face his boyfriend. He poked Jisung’s cheek a couple times and after a moment he groaned and then his eyes fluttered open.
“Mm, hyung?” he mumbled, the raspiness of his voice sending shivers down Minho’s spine.
“Sorry for waking you, jagiya. I just woke up with a little… problem.” Now facing Jisung, he rolled his hips to meet Jisung’s, effectively grinding their cocks together. Jisung let out a startled whimper and the muscles in his jaw flexed. Goodness, he was gorgeous in the morning. His face was always a little swollen when he woke up, making his cheeks look extra fluffy, and his hair was tousled. Minho wanted to devour him.
“Ah–I’m sleepy though, hyung,” Jisung whined, just like Minho knew he would.
“You won’t need to do anything, Hannie,” Minho said, stroking Jisung’s cheek with his thumb. “I just need to sit on that pretty cock of yours.”
Minho could tell his words affected him by the way his Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat. He could even pick up on the slight change of breathing, the way Jisung’s breath hitched in his throat and then steadied out into shallower breaths. “‘M still half asleep though,” he said softly, but there was less protest in his voice. His cock was still fully hard against Minho, too.
“That’s okay, baby. I like when you’re all pliant for me,” Minho said, smirking at the way Jisung’s rosy cheeks darkened. He ran his hand up and down his side, humming at the feel of his soft, warm skin under his fingers. “Can I please ride you, jagi? You can just go back to sleep, I just want you inside me,” he breathed, his voice getting that desperate tone it often got when he woke up horny. He batted his lashes. “I’ll make you feel good too, Hannie.”
Jisung gulped audibly and Minho swore he could feel his cock twitch against him. “O-okay,” he answered. “But I can just lay here?”
Minho didn’t even attempt to keep the giddy grin off his face. He pressed a kiss to the corner of Jisung’s mouth and nodded. “Mhm, just lay there and let hyung use you, yeah?”
Jisung shuddered and nodded, his eyes glazing over. Minho took the opportunity with the position they were in and turned Jisung to face him so he could bring their lips together in a kiss. Jisung let him in easily, barely kissing back as Minho took the lead licking past his parted lips. He sucked his bottom lip between his teeth and his stomach fluttered at the whimper Jisung made. He loved having Jisung like this–so gentle, so malleable, their shallow breaths mingling together as Minho took. Normally, he would kiss him like this for ages, run his tongue along his teeth, and nip at his bottom lip until he was a breathless, desperate mess. But this morning, he was feeling too desperate himself.
He gave a peck to Jisung’s lips as he pulled away, grinning at the disheveled state he had left him in. It almost made Minho laugh. Jisung might just lay there for him, but there was no way he would be going back to sleep.
Gently, Minho rolled Jisung over onto his back. Then he sat up and tossed the blankets back, revealing Jisung’s hard cock, straining against his underwear. There was already a wet spot there and the sight alone made Minho’s mouth water. The thought of sucking him off crossed his mind but for the time being his wants laid elsewhere. They would have a little extra time in the evening, and then Minho could relax with Jisung’s dick on his tongue.
“Hm, you sure you’re sleepy, jagi?” Minho asked amusedly, reaching out to palm Jisung through his boxers.
Jisung’s eyes widened and he bit his lip to suppress the whimper that crawled up his throat. “I am, ‘s just morning wood, hyung,” he explained. Minho chuckled fondly as he dragged his finger along his length.
“Aww, nothing to do with me?” he asked in mock offense. Jisung opened his mouth to respond but was cut off by Minho pressing his thumb into his slit through the slick fabric of his underwear. He gasped and his hips jerked upward. The sight made Minho’s stomach jolt with arousal.
“Y-you know how I get wh-when you’re like this,” he whined, his bottom lip jutting out in a petulant pout.
“Mmm, s’pose I do,” Minho agreed. It was no secret to either of them that Jisung liked when Minho got a little needy, a little insistent. Somehow Jisung always ended up the needier of the two, but Minho liked it that way. Liked how overwhelmed he could get him just from sitting on his cock.
Not wasting another minute, Minho got up to his knees and tugged his boxers off, hissing as the cool hair hit his cock. He was so hard it almost hurt–there was no way he would last long. “Hand me the lube, baby?” he asked, already sounding shamefully breathless. Jisung hummed absentmindedly, eyes trained on Minho’s cock as it hung, hard and leaking, between his thick thighs. “Enjoying the view?”
Jisung blushed, averting his gaze as he reached for the lube sitting on the nightstand, left there from the night before. “Stop teasing,” he huffed as he handed Minho the bottle.
“Maybe someday.” Minho giggled as he popped the cap and coated his fingers in the slick substance. A shiver went through his body at the hungry look in Jisung’s half-lidded eyes, now focused on the shiny lines of his fingers. The corner of his lips quirked up in a smirk as he reached behind himself to press the first finger into his hole. His lips parted in a soft moan, eyebrows knitting together as he pushed inside himself. He was still loose from Jisung fucking him the night before and the memory had heat coiling in his gut. He bit his bottom lip, swallowing thickly as he pushed another finger past his rim. He dropped his head and his muscles tensed. Jisung was always much better at stretching him open, his fingers longer than Minho’s own–he could always reach so deep. He groaned as he thrust his fingers deeper, just shy of his prostate. “Jisungie,” he breathed, a bead of precum leaking from the tip of his cock.
“You’re so hot, hyung,” Jisung responded, on the edge of a moan. His voice was rough, thick with arousal, a sound that had an almost Pavlovian effect on Minho. His hips jerked and he leaned forward, trying to get a better angle for his fingers. Fuck, he needed Jisung’s cock.
He deemed himself stretched enough after a few more pumps of his fingers and he pulled them out with a loud squelch. Jisung shuddered under him. Minho wet his lips and took a deep breath as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of Jisung’s boxers. “Mm, can’t wait to have your big cock inside me.” He laughed a little when Jisung twitched, but it quickly faded off into a groan as he pulled his boxers down. The sight of Jisung’s pretty cock alone had him dizzy, lightheaded from how fast his blood rushed south. “Fuck. I’ll never get over how pretty you are.”
Jisung whimpered a little and his fingers flexed on the bed beside him. “Hyung…”
“What?” Minho asked, cocking his head to the side. “Don’t tell me you’re getting needy. Thought you were tired.” He grabbed the base of Jisung’s cock, relishing the moan it pulled from him. He even felt good in his hand, so thick and hot against his palm. He was tempted to play with him, jerk him off for a bit like he often did, turn him into a mess on the verge of coming before he even rode him. But instead, he grabbed the lube and poured a generous amount over his cockhead. Jisung hissed and he grinned as he spread the lube over his length.
“Minho-hyung, please,” Jisung whined, pressing his head back into the pillows. He looked so pretty like this, with his hair fanned across the pillow and his chubby cheeks all rosy. Minho fucking loved him.
“Shh, hyung’s got you, baby,” Minho hummed.
He lined himself up with Jisung’s cock and his eyebrows pinched together at the first brush of his tip against his hole. And then without a warning, he sank all the way down, taking all of Jisung’s cock in one go. It punched a choked gasp out of him and a moan out of Jisung. The stretch burned since he had only used two fingers and didn’t give himself time to adjust, but that was one of Minho’s favorite parts. It sated something deep within him. There was nothing more satisfying than the soreness that would follow.
Jisung looked like he was seconds away from coming as Minho gave them both a second to breathe before moving. He clutched the sheets in his fists and was biting his lip so hard it would probably bruise. “Sh-shit, hyung. I dunno–dunno if I’m gonna last long,” he stuttered.
“Hah–’s okay, I’m not gonna last long either, Sungie. Wanted–fuck, wanted you so bad,” Minho panted. Jisung filled him up so well, better than anyone else ever had before. He felt him so deep he was sure his insides were permanently rearranged to fit him. If Minho could sit on his cock forever, he would.
“I’m gonna move now,” Minho warned after a minute.
Jisung nodded weakly. “Okay, want you to.”
Minho rolled his hips a couple times before he lifted himself up, breath catching in his throat at the sensation of Jisung’s length dragging along his walls. Then he slammed back down, ass slapping against Jisung’s hips. “ Mmgh, fuck,” he moaned. He easily picked up a steady rhythm, years of dancing allowing him to move smoothly. The muscles in his thighs flexed with each rise and fall of his hips, practically rippling under tanned skin. Jisung’s hands eventually found their way to his thighs, digging his fingertips into the flesh. Moans and whines spilled from his lips as the action made Minho speed up and his nails dug crescents into his skin.
“Oh, oh yes, fuck, Hannie,” Minho gasped, eyes rolling back. Jisung’s grip was strong enough to hurt, but that made it so good. “So–so much for being– hah –being sleepy.”
“Can’t– hyungg— can’t be sl-sleepy when you’re so–” He struggled to get the words out, choking on his own moans whenever Minho clenched around him. “So hot, mmm– and you’re s-so tight, hyung.” He whined, high and breathless. The sounds went straight to Minho’s cock. He would never get tired of how noisy Jisung got when he rode him. “You feel so good.”
“So do you, jagi.” Minho gasped when the head of Jisung’s dick hit his prostate, sparks of pleasure bursting through his stomach. “Hnng–Fill me up so good, you’re so good for hyung.” His voice sounded foreign to him, two pitches higher, so needy.
“Lo-love being good for hyung,” Jisung whimpered, fingers flexing against Minho’s thighs.
“Always good–shit, look at you laying there, letting hyung take whatever he wants,” Minho said. He was getting close already, the coils of pleasure tightening in his stomach. His thighs were starting to burn a little too from how intensely he had been riding Jisung, but he always enjoyed a little burn.
“Hyung, hyung, I’m close,” Jisung babbled, eyes glazed over as he watched Minho bounce on his cock. “Should–should I–” he tried to lift his hips but Minho pushed him down.
“No, let me–told you that you didn’t hah-have to do anything,” he managed. “I’m close too.” He wrapped his fingers around the base of his own cock, breath hitching as he began to stroke himself in time with the rolls of his hips. He leaned forward at the same time and placed his free hand on Jisung’s chest to give himself more leverage. The slight change in the angle made Jisung’s cock hit Minho’s prostate with every thrust and the pleasure soon became overwhelming.
“ Ahh fuck Jisungie, ‘m gonna come,” Minho moaned.
“Yes, yes, hyung,” Jisung exclaimed, his voice cracking. “Please, wanna see you come on my cock, please—”
“ Fuck.” Minho’s hole spasmed and his stomach tensed as his orgasm hit him with Jisung buried deep inside. His mouth fell open in a silent moan and he stroked himself as he came, cum spilling all over his hand and stomach. He continued grinding down against Jisung to the point of overstimulation, his moans turning into high-pitched whines. “O-oh god,” he choked, finally releasing his cock as the last spurt of cum spilled over his hand.
Jisung’s pupils were blown wide as he stared–which made Minho want to see him fall apart more. So he clenched around him and reached forward with his cum covered hand and pressed his fingers to Jisung’s lips. “Say, ‘ah,’” he instructed. Jisung’s eyes widened but he obeyed easily, parting his lips to take Minho’s fingers into his mouth. “Good boy,” he hummed. If he wasn’t already spent, the sight alone could get him hard again. And Jisung seemed to like it too because his cock twitched inside Minho as he sucked the cum off his fingers, tongue swirling around the digits. He looked dazed, positively fucked out.
“You gonna come inside me, pretty?” Minho asked, circling his hips. “Fill me up with your cum?”
Jisung nodded vigorously, Minho’s fingers still in his mouth. When Minho pressed down on his tongue, he gagged but didn’t pull back.
“Fuck, look at you. So so good. Come on baby, come inside hyung.” He picked up fucking himself on Jisung again and the other’s muffled moans filled the room, his eyes rolling back. Now that Minho had come, he let himself go, Minho’s fingers down his throat and his tight heat around his cock enough to bring him tipping over the edge. He came with a cry around Minho’s fingers and spilled into him in hot spurts. There was so much that it leaked out of Minho’s hole and spilled down the base of his cock. It was messy, a little gross, and exactly how they both loved it.
Minho rode him through his orgasm until he was gasping and whining for him to stop. Then Minho lifted himself off, cringing a little bit at the cum spilling down his thighs. “We’re gonna have to shower,” he mumbled as he collapsed next to Jisung and threw a leg over his waist.
Jisung panted quietly for a minute before saying anything else and then he wiggled away. “You’re all sticky, hyung,” he complained, his voice coming out breathless.
Minho chuckled. “And who’s fault is that?”
“ Yours, because it was your idea,” he said, but there was a blush on his cheeks. Minho couldn’t help but poke them.
“Cute.”
Jisung grumbled under his breath for a moment, which just made Minho laugh. “Let’s just go hop in the shower before we have to do anything else. Check the hall to make sure no one’s there for me?” He smiled and blinked rapidly. Jisung groaned loudly but he was smiling.
“Sure, sure, whatever. As if they didn’t hear everything anyway…”
“Yeah, someone’s loud.”
Jisung swatted at Minho’s shoulder and shook his head as he stood up. “I’m not the only one!”
Minho slapped his butt and he yelped, spinning away from the danger zone. “Respect your hyung, Hannie.” Jisung rolled his eyes before giving Minho the most heart-stopping smile imaginable.
“You’re so…” He leaned forward and gave Minho a soft kiss. “Come on. We’re both going to check. Since you woke me up earlier.” He grabbed his wrist and this time Minho didn’t protest, instead following him to the door. Jisung was right, after all. It was only fair. As he walked, there was a slight ache, and now that he wasn’t thinking with his dick anymore, he knew he would regret it later. But at least he got what he wanted anyway.
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