You awaken to the smell of honey and roses.
It's the smell you awaken to every morning.
And it has perhaps become the greatest comfort in your life.
Wrapped up in the arms of your Hollow Knight in your shared sleeping nest, it is the smell of comfort, of love, of home. They carry the smell wherever they go. It's a scent you've come to associate with their presence, and you never feel more safe than when you're wreathed in that aroma.
You lie in bed, unwilling to break the stillness and part from the comforting hold of your lover. You know they are awake when you feel them shift, sighing out a heavy cold breath against your neck, wrapping their arm tighter around you and snuggling deeper into the blankets. Evidently as unwilling to get up and start the day as you are.
The angle of the sun through the curtains tells you it's early morning, not yet late enough for your laziness to be of consequences, and so you have no argument about sleeping in for a couple more hours.
Hollow seems to have other plans though, as they nuzzle their snout against your neck, bringing their knees up to curl around your much smaller frame like an oversized spoon. It's not uncommon for them to drowsily demand your attention for morning cuddles.
"Mmm good morning sweetheart…Somebody woke up on the right side of the bed, huh?"
You turn your head sideways to meet the gaze of the massive bug pressed against your back, one hand coming up to gently rub at the oversized snout pressed into your shoulder as they rumble out a purr in response.
You manage to turn your head to press a kiss into their snout, and they eagerly reciprocate, fanged maw parting and long tongue teasing at your lips to give you the closest to a kiss that they can manage with their masked face.
They pull you closer, tongue slipping past your lips as they "kiss" you deeply, and you feel their lone hand stroke softly at your stomach before slipping past your shirt, feeling up your chest and ribs so gently with long claws capable of ripping through steel if they tried.
You part for air, smiling softly and meeting their lovestruck gaze as they huff out a deep breath and their fingers trace slow little circles into your skin. You know what they want before they even begin softly tugging your shirt off. Breakfast in bed is always such a lovely indulgence to them.
and you're their favorite meal.
They go slowly, they always like to take it slow in the mornings and savor every moment. They pull your clothing off with the gentlest of claws, shrugging their own cloak off and spooning you with their full body. Craving the bare skin on chitin contact with a desperate starvation.
They trace words into your skin, little "I love yous" that are spoken through clawtips and peppered kisses against your neck. Their fingers trace down your body, they know every inch, have mapped every curve, ridge, and bump. You arch against them, content to let them take the lead and spoil you on mornings like this. They love to take care of you like this and show you their devotion, heart, soul, and body.
They shift, and you can feel the tip of their long prehensile co*ck brush against your thigh, eager and dripping void as they lather your neck in kisses and gently coax your legs apart with their hand. They slip into you slowly, knowing full well they're massive, and no matter how many times you've taken them, it never fails to make you arch and suck in a deep breath as you are filled to the brim with their writhing tendril. They're patient and more than willing to accommodate your needs, waiting for you to slowly adjust to their size.
They go slow, hand trailing up to intertwine with yours as they rock into you at a gentle and passionate rhythm. Void tendrils slithering out from their missing arm and chest and curling over your form to hold you closely as they spoon and make love to you. You feel their long tongue press into the flesh of your neck and shoulder as the sounds of your moans and the wet squelching of a good morning f*ck fill the room.
A tendril wraps around your thigh, coaxing you to lift your leg, and they angle their hips to hit that one sweet spot that has you seeing stars with each thrust as they settle into a satisfying but relaxed pace. They love when they can get you to make those lovely noises. Each moan and gasp and breathless word of praise plucking at their core and dragging ragged gasps and heaving moans from their own parted jaws as they f*ck you deeply.
And oh they can't help but to nip at your flesh. Sinking their teeth carefully into your shoulder, not enough to actually hurt you, but enough to drag the most delightful of cries from your lips and leave wonderful bite marks that claim you as theirs.
Void tendrils cradle your form tenderly, feeling up every inch they can reach with the softest squeezes and caresses. The tendrils around their dick curl over your thighs and hips, holding you steady as they f*ck you with unbridled deep passion.
Their thrusts gradually quicken, though they remain still so very mindful of how much larger they are and how careful they need to be when they're stuffing you to the brim like this, but oh they want to make sure you feel this for the rest of the day. To make you just sore enough to remember the passion in their love for you and the wetness of their void between your thighs.
They relish in the sounds, the feelings, the complete and utter affection swelling in their chest for the creature they're wrapped around. Your moans and the void oozing from your slit as they sink their teeth into your skin over and over and cuddle you and press every inch of themselves they can fit against your body.
Mine.
All mine.
They nuzzle and kiss your neck gently as you come undone against them, crooning sweetly and cupping your hand in their much larger one as you arch your back against their front and ride out the waves of your climax in their embrace.
Their pace turns sloppy and they buck into you for a few moments more before their own org*sm crashes into them full force and they curl over your form, shuddering and whining softly as they fill you up. Void dripping from every tentacle wrapped around your body and gushing from your slit as they spill every bit of themselves into you.
You stay wrapped in their tendrils for a while, fingers still curled around theirs as they worship your skin with soft laps of tongue against neck and sing their affection for you through deep rumbling purrs that vibrate against your spine.
They eventually unwrap themselves from around you, though only for a moment so they can nestle between your legs and clean up the mess they made of you. Long prehensile tongue pressing between your folds and greedily lapping up every drop of spilled passion that drips from you as they purr and rumble in wordless reverence for you.
Satisfied once they've left no spot unloved, they return to spooning you, holding you closely once more and draping void tendrils around your body lazily making the clear decision that you will remain in bed and cuddle with them for the remainder of the early morning hours.
And you find you have no desire to argue with that decision.
You aren't a morning person anyway.
...Though you do agree with them that breakfast in bed is the best meal of the day.
