synopsis: on the drawn out nights when phainon is away from you—you are all that haunts his mind. so, when he finally comes home and you’re all curled up, drifting peacefully away in the land of dreams, phainon can’t help but give in. don’t worry though, he won’t wake you up. or, phainon fucks your thighs while you sleep because he misses you too much.
content. mdni afab + f! reader, somno, thigh fucking, pet names (darling, my love, my light etc.) kissing, idk this is rlly soft bc phainon is a loverboy ok?
w/c: 1.6k
a/n: there is a phainon-shaped hole in my heart and i miss him dearly :(
Phainon loves protecting his people. He loves hearing the joyous chiming of their laughter and seeing cheerful smiles that split across their lips. He lives to keep them safe and sound along with all the other Chrysos heirs. He adores his role and upholds it to the best of his ability.
But there is one thing that comes with his duty he doesn’t quite enjoy.
He’s been coming home late recently. The nights are drawn out, ever vigilant in defending the city. And while he adores protecting the citizens, sometimes, all Phainon ever wants is your company. One he just so happens to earn tonight when Alglea practically ushers him home.
The house is quiet when Phainon enters. Lights flicked off and the world ironed into silence in his little bubble of peace. Now, all he wants is you.
His armor is shed the minute he gets into your shared quarters—each article of metal and fabric that clumps to the floor takes a weight off his shoulders along with it, stripping down to his briefs before he drags himself to the bed like a man to an oasis.
It’s where you lay, too. His life—his elixir of joy—currently a small, clumsy mess of blanket and slumber, snoozing away peacefully in the dark room. He always tells you not to wait up on him—yet, you never listen. Judging from your outfit—one of his stolen shirts and cotton panties that mirror the shade of his eyes—the discarded book by the bedside, and the haphazard positioning of the sheets, it seems this night is the same.
Precious girl, he thinks, his beautiful girl. How did he get so lucky?
In an instant, it feels like every arduous night has been worth it. If it means being able to create a world where you slumber without worry, protecting your sweet smile, Phainon doesn’t mind. His exhaustion is replaced by a tender gaze and a soft chuckle before fixing the blankets over your form and curling himself flushed against you like a blanket of warmth.
You stir slightly with the new presence and comforting heat, whispering the soft, sleepy syllables of his name that makes his heart keen in his chest. It pounds away at the cage of his ribs—alive—he’s sure you can feel it thundering in his chest with how little space remains between you two.
“It’s just me, my love.” He murmurs in a low tremor, pressing his nose against the curve of your neck, taking a deep inhale of your soothing scent accompanied by a gentle kiss to the skin. A silent show to tell your unconscious self that he’s here. He’s home.
Even in sleep, your body knows him. Every curve, every breath, every soft feel of skin on skin. So you relax immediately, shifting your hips slightly in the smallest grind, and oh—
Phainon’s breath catches in his throat. He feels it all at once. A falter in his heart where it trips over itself like a hormonal schoolboy, stuttering out to your subtle movements. And pulse in his boxers, a twitch against your plush ass that sits directly onto where he’s growing hard underneath you. How easy he is, going without you for days, and only to get achingly aroused for you while you slumber. Certainly, if you were conscious, he has no doubt that you’d tease him non-stop.
But he can’t help the low whimper that bubbles when you move again, furrowing yourself deeper into his warmth, harder against his bulge with a drowsy sigh—a sound of heaven that reaches his burning ears and shooting straight southward.
He shouldn’t, he knows. You’re tired, he’s tired, and you both have all day tomorrow to indulge in each other’s bodies. How can he disturb your rest when you tried your best to stay up for him? The kind thing to do is to allow you to sleep in peace and enjoy the calming rhythm of your breath that he’s missed for days.
But Phainon is tired of being strong. Right now, Phainon is weak. Your lover is too weak to the way you fill up his shirt that you went to sleep in, shared fragrances whittling down his restraint. He’s too susceptible to how your body fits against his, the hushed snores you emit, and even the cute way your cheek nuzzles against the pillow.
“I’m sorry, my love…” He utters quietly into the slope of your shoulder. “I just… I need you, so bad. I missed you so much.”
His hands find light purchase on the soft of your hips, pulling you closer to erase all margins between you. Like any spare room is simply unbearable. He can’t hide the groan at the slight friction, precum beginning to collect in his boxers, soaking through as he rolls his bulge into the curve of your clothed ass, breathing and kissing reverently along your neck’s arch, whispering low praises though you can’t hear it.
Perfect. You’re simply perfection in everything you do, whether conscious or not. Sleeping so soundly and prettily, it makes him almost feel bad. Almost.
But then he starts pushing the sensitive, leaking head of his cock into the crevice of your thighs, slicking up the warm mounds before sliding his length into the pillowy flesh, and all resolve seems to simmer away.
“Li-like this, my dear. I’ll take care of you t-tomorrow, I promise…” Mouthing little marks into your neck and rutting subtly, Phainon speaks in a low tone, unable to hide the rasping ache trembling through his voice. “Ha… feels ‘s good… ‘m sorry, sweetheart… just—fuck—I missed you, missed you s’much.”
He could cry from this. Your thighs are so warm. Warm and soft like your body welcomes him home after days and nights away, so willing and ready despite being in slumber. It’s moments like these when Phainon is intensely reminded of how much he adores you.
He’s dripping enough pre that his dick slips and glides easily through your thighs and you’re blissfully unaware of the way he carefully bucks into you. Cautious enough not to wake you, needy enough that he chases the curling heat in his gut. It’s a little messy, the same way it is when you’re awake, too. The sound of repetitive ‘shlicking’ echoes throughout the room, mingling in with your calming breathing and his huffs as he pumps into the slippery mess between your legs.
Using you like this like this, sprinting after his orgasm, makes Phainon feel desperate—but he is. Phainon is just always desperate for you. Phainon is just a man in love.
He thinks about what you’d do if you were awake to feel his love for you. Would you turn and kiss him, thread your gentle hands through his hair, tugging him close and whispering for him to take what he needs? Would you reach over between your thighs and guide his cock into your delicate entrance, letting him push thick inch after inch in, and swallow all your sweet staccatos? Just the imagination causes him to leak even more.
Your panties are surely soaked by now. He makes a note to take you shopping soon, spoil you in new sets to take them off again that same night so he can love you—properly this time. Shower you in love the way he should and not rolling delirious thrusts into the heated gap between your legs. It’s a date, he thinks. It can be a date when he’s not so drunk on your slippery thighs squeezing perfectly around his girth, when he isn’t pressing himself against you like he’s trying to merge your souls together, and rubbing his tip along the lips of your pussy through your panties.
The turgid head of his dick catches on your clit, just barely. Just enough that he hears a drowsy mumble of his name slip from your lips, dream-littered and quiet—the sound is agonizingly beautiful, flawless in drowsy pitch, perfect to his ears.
“Phai…” Your little mumble is barely audible in the midst of his sloppy rutting.
“Da-darling,” his hips stutter along with his voice, a whiny cry that’s muffled into your shoulder, “so pretty, so soft, so good… mmph, ‘m close… you’re gonna make me cum…”
Phainon litters loving kisses into the space where your shoulder meets your neck, skyward irises fluttering shut as he succumbs to the tightness curling achingly. The kind of tightness that itches at the heat in his body, hips rocking fervently, twitching between wet mounds of flesh until he’s spurting warm, gooey ropes of white onto your thighs.
“F-fuck—” Broken moans and whimpers of your name escape with quick breaths, hot against your skin as his hips finally slow to a tender roll through your warmth, letting the final billows of his high wash over him, bringing a sudden exhaustion along with it. “‘M sorry, my love, I’ll take care of you tomorrow…”
With a trembling hand, Phainon swipes the fallen strands of your hair away from your warm temple, leaning in to press an adoring kiss to your cheeks—still none the wiser to his seed coating your lower half now. He doesn’t bother to tuck himself back in, content with your bodies staying fitted like two poles drawn together. Still perfect, still his. Even caught in rest, you know exactly how to help him. Truly, how lucky he has gotten.
To hold the weight of your precious heart and have his accepted by you—it makes every long night worth a thousand dawns.
“Goodnight, my light.”
To others, he is the one who bears the weight of the world, the one who will bring forth the first gleam of a blazing light. But here—with you in his embrace and breaths falling in sync—he is Phainon. And he is yours.
TAKE A MOMENT AND LOOK AT MY BEAUTIFUL MAN AND THEN GO HAVE A GOOD DAY
no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen floor to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I gasp for air, scream and see the light, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, doggy, backwards, sideways, upside down, on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on a chair, being carried against the wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in the car, on a motorcycle, the the bed of a truck, on a trampoline, in a bounce house, in the pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, have the most toe curling, back arching, leg shaking, dick throbbing, fist clenching, ear ringing, mouth drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, sheet gripping, knuckles cracking, jaw dropping, hair pulling, teeth jitterbug, mind blogging, soul snatching, overstimulating, vile, sloppy,moan inducing, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious,gushy, creamy, beastly, lip biting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, world ending, black hole creating, universe destroying, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, delectable, unbelievable, body numbing, bark worthy, can't walk, head nodding, soul evaporating, volcano erupting, sweat rolling, voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, flabbergasting, lip locking, skin peeling, eyelash removing, eye widening, pussy popping, nail scratching, back cuts, spectacular, brain cell desolving, hair ripping, show stopping, magnificent, unique, extraordinary, slendid, phenomenal, mouth foaming, heavenly, awakening, devils tango ever bro could cause a nuclear bomb inside me and I'd still ride.
