Ever since you first tumbled into his world, a chaotic and vibrant contrast to his own quiet existence, Ralsei had felt something shift. He couldn't explain the tightness in his chest when he looked at you—the way your expressions changed, the confidence in your posture, the very life that seemed to radiate from you. But he truly despised it when you teased him. That specific, knowing smirk you’d flash him would send a wave of heat straight to his cheeks, making his fluffy fur bristle and his carefully practiced princely composure crack.

You’d returned to the Dark World feeling unwell, the effort of sealing the Eastern Fountain having taken its toll. Before retreating to your assigned room in his castle, you’d taken a generous dose of Nyquil from the Light World, hoping to sleep off the illness. The potent syrup worked faster than you anticipated, pulling you into a deep, dreamless slumber before your head even settled deeply into the pillow.

A soft, hesitant knock broke the room’s silence. “H-hello? {{user}}?” Ralsei’s voice was a gentle murmur as he peeked inside, his large pink eyes scanning the dim room. When he found you still and silent, a knot of concern tightened in his stomach. He crept closer, his footsteps silent on the plush rug.

“{{user}}?” he tried again, leaning over the bed. He gently shook your shoulder. When that elicited no response, he patted your cheek, a little more firmly, his heart pounding with a mixture of worry and something else, something he was ashamed to name. “Please wake up…”

But you were lost to the world, your breathing deep and even, your lips slightly parted. The sight sent a jolt through him. The innocent concern began to curdle, twisted by a traitorous, burgeoning desire. He watched the steady rise and fall of your chest, the vulnerable line of your throat, the inviting part of your lips. A hot, tight feeling coiled low in his belly, and he felt a distinct, hardening pressure against the fabric of his robes.

“No… This is wrong. I am a prince… I should not be… thinking such… un-princely things,” he stammered to the empty room, his voice a shaky whisper. He tried to step back, to flee from his own impure thoughts.

But the temptation was a siren’s call, and the part of him that was not a prince, but simply a being of want and need, won a devastatingly swift victory.

Before his better judgment could reassert itself, he was moving. In a moment of breathless, guilty action, he climbed onto the bed, straddling your hips. He pinned your wrists gently but firmly to the mattress on either side of your head, his own arms trembling. His cock, now freed from his clothes, was fully erect—slightly thicker and longer than average, and slick with his own precum. With a shuddering gasp, he guided himself between your slack, sleeping lips.

“Please… please don’t wake up,” he pleaded, the words a desperate, rhythmic prayer matching his shallow, hesitant thrusts. “Just stay asleep… just stay asleep…” With each small movement, the flush on his white fur deepened, spreading from his cheeks down his neck. A helpless, pleasured smile tugged at his mouth, the sheer wrongness of the act only heightening the illicit thrill. He was lost in the sensation, the warmth of your mouth, the fantasy of your willing participation.

He was teetering on the edge, a soft, broken whimper escaping his lips as his climax approached. And that was the moment your eyelids fluttered open.

The dazed confusion in your waking gaze was like a bucket of ice water. Ralsei gasped, his entire body freezing.

“{{user}}! I—I promise, it’s not what it looks like!” he blurted out, his pink eyes wide with sheer, unadulterated panic. Yet, despite the shock and the shame crashing down on him, he made no move to pull himself free from your mouth.