spider!kiyoomi who you met in your freshman year of college. that broody tall and very quiet figure at the back of your shared classes. the one who you could swore only talked to his cousin komori when it was strictly necessary
spider!kiyoomiwho you're not aware is so whipped for you that his eyes follow you as a reflex. seeing how popular you are, because of the pure kindness you had and maybe the fact that you're the smartest person alive. ever.
spider!kiyoomi who recoils when he sees stupid brainless guys approach you as if they'd be a better fit for you. they don't fight crime like he does! they aren't called the friendly neighborhood hero! not that you have to know of course.
spider!kiyoomi who sometimes, when he isn't chasing down robbers or fighting against idiots, makes sure to swing discreetly between buildings nearby as you walk home. he tells himself it's nothing really, but what kind of hero would he be if something happened to an innocent college student like you!
spider!kiyoomi who doesn't see the slight smirk you wear because his presence is so obvious to you it starts to make your chest fluttering with amusement.
spider!kiyoomi who jumps like a cat out of shock when you appear out of nowhere with your eyes crinkling in mischief. "spiders are sneaky, you know, sometimes you can't see them but when you do..." you say, and he swears his face feels hot behind his mask.
spider!kiyoomi who utterly denies he's keeping an eye on you and who tries to use a softer voice tone so you can not possibly figure who he is.
spider!kiyoomi who after that encounter isn't so afraid of making eye contact with you in your lectures. he even gathers the courage to ask for your pretty notes! and when he sees you're confused on why he's doing it, he feels so relieved knowing that you're still oblivious on the fact that he's the guy on a red and blue suit swinging thorugh the city.
spider!kiyoomi who sees you wave to him like a princess after talking more and more over the weeks. as if you aren't afraid of being seen with an apathetic nerd like him, he might think you could be... trusted with his secret. maybe.
spider!kiyoomi who, thank god, was actually there when some drunk assholes were pushing you to the wall demanding you go and spend a "nice time with them".
spider!kiyoomi who after you spat on one of their faces telling them to fuck off, widened his eyes and felt his stupid crush on you grow even more. mostly because he knows how much you hate smelling alcohol! just because of that!
spider!kiyoomi who intervened quickly, trapping them in his webs on the wall, genuinely concerned despite his love-sick aching chest. he, who saw your relieved smile and gorgeus sparkling eyes and nearly confessed he was sakusa kiyoomi just because he wanted you to look at him like that 24/7, not only when he was hiding behind his mask and saving you.
spider!kiyoomi who accidentally slipped out his real voice when asking if he could walk you home.
spider!kiyoomi who did not notice how you stilled for just a nano-second when you recognized his voice.
spider!kiyoomi who sits next to you for hours in your next couple of classes completely unaware that, at some point, you'll be so sure he's spiderman you'll have no choice but to tell him.
gwen stacy!reader who, sooner than later, will innevitably seal her fate to the the moment she'll turn into a falling star and where his web will arrive just a second too late.
♯ __┆⭑ DIRTY MONEY 💵 James thinks you look even prettier with his pre-cum on your lips. That’s it .ᐟ.ᐟ.ᐟ
─── No further synopsis for drabbles.
⭑
⋆ | [💵] | ໒꒰՞ ܸ. .ܸ ꒱ᩙა. Alpha! Zhao Yufan x Fem!R𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 ── mature, mdni, omega x alpha, omega verse, privileged fem reader, lwky bimbo reader, hyperfem reader, dubcon! (under biological influence), degradation, dirty talk, swearing, praise kink, overstimulation, knotting, mirror sex, explicit sexual content, angst-ish at the start, pre-cum as lipgloss. That’s it. Read at your own discretion. it's really tame so you'll be fine.
Word count: 2.2k
⭑
WAZI🦨: wrote this for Riki on another blog, felt like making it for James too. Especially because I haven’t posted anything on here in a while.
James heard about you before he ever set eyes on you. A snickering drunk alpha, tugging at his patience, thin darkened lips slurring mentions of a "delicate lil' thang caught up at GAKE with the gang. Word is she dropping stacks at yo charity." Enraged was an understatement; there's not a single word capable of describing just how much your nosy behavior truly irks him.
This little stunt you pulled an example of just that. Inadvertently making yourself a target for the nastiest of scum, while simultaneously letting people in town know that James has a weak spot with deep pockets.
There's something seriously wrong with you that he's yet to figure out.
How can someone be so naive? What's your problem? What are you looking for? Always sticking your nose in his business, without so much as a clue of what that business even is.
The young alpha finds you two blocks away, still in these shady parts of town, eyes trained to the GPS on your phone, smaller figure adorned in a pricey pink wool set. You looked like the type of prize people here don't have mercy on. A gambler's luck if you'd only be robbed and left for dead.
"James? Oh wow! Thank goodness you're here," you gasp as he emerges from the distance. "I tried talking to those men but I think I might've made them uncomfortable. I don't know what happened, I was just trying to—"
"Stop talking."
The command wasn't loud, but the sheer, cold weight behind it cut you off instantly. James didn't look like an angry street fighter; he just looked exhausted by your existence. His brows furrowed at your guilty expression, the same one you always wore when he finds you like this, tail tucked between your legs.
"No baby, I promise, this time I was just trying to help, I didn't mean to—" The blond didn't let you finish, didn't need to. He's heard you make this promise a thousand times before.
"You never mean to," James interrupted, his voice dropping into a quiet, dangerous register. "You just throw money around in a place you know nothing about, thinking you're doing something good."
"Am not, I just wanted to—" you cried out, voice cracking as your teeth sunk raw into your lip, copper scent breaching his heightened senses.
"You are," he bit back, taking a step into your space until the small of your back hit a rusty, dented lamp post. "Spending money down here is going to get you in trouble. And when you get into trouble, I'm the one who has to come get you out of it. I'm not up for cleaning your messes. So stay in your own parts, doll. You're too much of a hassle in mine."
Your eyes swelled with tears at every word, fingers tightening at the straps of your new Coach purse, scent spiking in distress—slightly bitter, decaying, devastated, and utterly submissive. His alpha should've stood down, should've reeled his anger back in at the sight, but your scent hit him like a drug, nothing in comparison to his highest hit of nicotine.
James wanted more of it. He wanted to be mean, wanted to tear you apart right there on the pavement just to see you break for him.
"Go home," he commanded, his voice dropping a register so low it had your knees ready to give out as if to plead for forgiveness. "Go do the mindless shit you do all day, and stay out of here. I don't wanna tell your ass twice."
You listen; you always do. You can be good when he asks you to be. Something he appreciates far too much about you. Your silhouette faded in the distance, leaving James to his clenched fists and a sick mind already playing with the image of your flushed, tear-stained face and glossy, swollen lips.
Twenty-four hours later, frustrations wore off, the "cruel" alpha agenda washed out with it. In its place stood a man lost to his biology and consumed in the feverish heat of want. James' rut hit him like a bullet train, every thought a jagged, lustful depiction of you, your tears, your mouth, that scent.
He doesn't knock—never done that before, why start now? He sneaks through the balcony door of your pristine apartment, reeking of sweat, desperation, and a driving need for your touch. You're sitting at a vanity, silk pajama shirt hanging loosely by your shoulder as you brush your smooth hair, a stark contrast to his own greasier mop top. The alpha ran a quick hand through his dark hair, blond streaks reflecting light with every movement.
When your eyes land on his lean figure, you start to apologize profusely, mouth an overflowing river of "sorry's" and "I didn't mean to's". He paid them no mind, just inching closer and closer until the gap between you was filled entirely with him and only him. You remained seated, voice dying down the closer his crotch got to your eye level.
"I told you to stay away, doll," he growls, fingers tangled in the loose strands of your freshly tamed hair, pulling your head back so you'd have no choice but to look up at him. His eyes hooded, pupils blown wide with need.
"Anyone ever tell you how pretty your mouth is?" he questions, free hand already working his belt open, unzipping his denim jeans before pressing your lips against the bulge beneath his briefs. You slowly pull them apart to suck at the fabric, nose engulfed in his musky basil scent, tongue lapping at a damp spot by his length.
"Shame you can't shut it," he breathes out.
James' thumb lingers on your bottom lip as he pulls you away, dragging the drop of salt-heavy moisture across the soft peak of your pout. He watches with a sick, possessive sort of satisfaction as the light from your vanity mirror catches the wetness.
His pre-cum.
Giving your mouth a gloss that looks more expensive—and far more enticing—than anything else you've ever bought.
"Look at you," he rasps, his hand tightening in your hair just enough to tilt your chin up further. "Crying over me yesterday, and now you're sitting pretty with my mess. Better than Dior, isn't it? Tell me it's better, doll."
you can’t find your voice.
You're eye-to-eye with the heavy, dark cotton of his briefs, the heat radiating off him hitting your face in waves. The bulge there is terrifying—furious and twitching—as you stare, a fresh load of dampness seeping through the cotton, mere inches from your nose.
He lets out a jagged breath, his scent thickening and cloying, like smoke to your pink room. "I spent all day thinking about how much I wanted to ruin that pretty face of yours. To make you pay for being so fucking stubborn."
He doesn't wait for your apology. He reaches down—fingers already slick from playing in his own arousal—and shoves two of them into your mouth.
"Taste them" he commands, his voice vibrating through your skin. "Suck them."
The taste is sharp—musk, salt, and the raw essence of his full-blown rut.
You wrap your tongue around his fingers, your eyes welling with fresh, overwhelmed tears as you look up at him through your lashes. James' head falls back, a low, guttural growl ripping from his chest at the sensation.
He's losing it; the nonchalant "bad boy" is drowning in the feeling of your warm, wet mouth working for him. Working to please him.
"Yeah, just like that," he moans, his hips involuntarily thrusting at your face. "So good when you're quiet. So fucking cute when you're listening."
He withdraws his fingers with a wet pop, the string of saliva connecting his fingers to your lips. Before you can even catch your breath, his hands are at his waistband.
He doesn't go slow. Shoves the briefs down, and for a second, the sheer size of him—flushed, veined, and leaking—makes you want to crawl away, hide from it.
But you don't. You're "good." His good omega.
James grabs your shoulders, his thumbs digging at your collarbones as he forces you to stay. He leans down, his dark eyes glaring into yours.
"You wanted to be in my world so bad?" he mutters, voice a dark promise. "Here it is. This is the only part of me you get to handle. Now, kiss it. Put that mouth to work, show me you're worth the trouble you cause me."
You lean in, your breath hitching as your lips graze the furious, drooling tip. The moment you swirl your tongue around the crown, James' knees nearly buckle. He lets out a low curse—something filthy and nasty—his grip on your hair turning desperate. He's addicted. He hates it, but he loves it like he can't live without it, and he'll make sure that by the time he's done, you don't remember a single thing about his world except for the way it feels inside you.
The alpha's head snaps back, a strangled sound ripping from his throat as you take him in. He expected tentative; he expected a "good girl" who would shy away from the sheer weight of never being exposed to something so explicit. Instead, you wrap your tongue around the head of his cock with practiced, devastatingly skilled suction that has his fingers spasming violently in the roots of your hair.
"F-fuck," he wheezes, his hips giving in to the involuntary, desperate thrusts in your mouth. "Where did you... How did you... who taught you to use your mouth like that?"
He's shaking, the nonchalant "bad boy" persona completely forsaken by the way you're working him. You don't stop, swirling your tongue around each vein, drawing him in deep until his eyes roll to the back of his head.
James is at his limit—the sticky heat of his pre-cum lubricating your tongue, his wolf screaming how that isn't enough. He doesn't want to spill on your face; he needs to be inside you. Needs to claim his good omega, show her he's proud of her working so hard to please him.
He hooks his arms under yours, hoisting you up with a low grunt. You're as soft as cotton candy in his calloused hands, a complete contrast to him.
He carries you two steps to the bed, but he doesn't lay you down on the fluffy white blanket, no. He sits back against the headboard, his legs splayed out, pulling you onto his lap—making you face the vanity mirror, forcing you to see the absolute wreckage you've become.
"Look at yourself," he rasps against your ear, his voice a sharp edge between praise and condescension. "Look at how fucking slutty you look."
He shoves your silk pajama top up until it's bunched up above your breasts, leaving your chest heaving and bare, your nipples peaked in the cool air. Below, your cunt is a tight mess of heat and slick—your body screaming for a friction only he can provide.
"Baby..." you sob, the pet name catching in your throat as he positions you. You look ruined—hair matted to your forehead, lips puffy and swollen—but the way James looks at you, eyes bloodshot and entranced, makes your soul shatter.
In this moment you couldn't be more beautiful.
"Tell me..." he mutters, voice faint and needy, his hands bruising your hips as he guides you down. "Tell me how it feels to have me back..."
"It's t-too much," you choke out, teeth grinding in pure, agonizing pleasure as you slowly lower yourself onto his length.
You can feel him everywhere—deep inside you, his cock pressing relentlessly into your g-spot, each inch sending a wave of pain and pleasure through you. The bulge of his cock digs into your stomach, and every time you sink down, the tip kisses your cervix, slamming into it with a sharp, grounding force.
"Fuck," he swears, pulling away from the nape of your neck to catch sight of your expression in the mirror—eyes puffy, lips parted, trembling beneath the weight of him.
"You're lucky you're so damn..." he groans, breath hitching as he feels your walls clench tight around him. "Agh—fuck." He shudders, hips stuttering for a moment as his orgasm looms closer.
He doesn't want to waste a drop on your face; his wolf is crying to be buried in you, to fill you up until you're leaking him out, just to pump it all in again.
"That's it... you're close already?" he laughs, even as he keeps driving up into you without missing a beat. The tell-tale swell at the base of his shaft begins to pulse, his knot growing with a brutal finality, settling you onto him for as long as his wolf desires.
"J-James! Please!" you sob into his shoulder, voice cracking as your stomach coils impossibly tight, tension burning through your entire body. You pant into his mouth, your cries muffled as he finally crashes his lips against yours, his knot stretching you out until you can't think, can't breathe, can't talk—just a good, sweet omega taking everything her alpha has to give her.
sypnosis oddly specific things you find insanely attractive ( tin ver )
notes skinship, kiss, established relationship, fluff, not proofread (juhoon ver ) (james ver) ( seonghyeon ver ) (keonho ver)
── divider by @/cursed-carmine
including you in his song lyrics
You accidentally stumbled upon a few unfinished lyrics on the desk. "Oh, you wrote these?" you asked, tracing the lyrics with your finger. He looked away, suddenly interested in anything but you. "Who is it about? Your members?" you said. He shyly smiled at you then, "It's actually about you"
pulling your hoodie up and giving you kisses on the forehead
The strong wind blew your hoodie hood of your head. Just when your about to put it back yourself, Martin reached over and pulled your hood up, hiding you inside it. Then, without a word, he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, and smiled. "there." You only stand there stunned, cheeks going tomartin red.
held stuff out of your reach just so you could lean on him
He lifted your keys just high enough that you couldn't reach it. "seriously?" you groaned and stretched, instinctively grabbing onto his arm for balance. A grin slowly rised from his face then, "finally" he said, only then did he hand it back. Such a tease
matching your height during selfies so you look closer in size
You tried to stand on the curb to stand taller next to him─you didn't wanted his head to be out of frame afterall. Martin noticed, and immediately stood closer beside you, legs opened to look shorter. "Just ask next time, baby" he said softly beside you.
when he teaches you how to play the guitar (bare with me i have never touch a guitar in my lifee)
"Like this" he murmured, gently adjusting your fingers on the strings. With deep breath, you tried the chord again, but it only buzzed upon your touch. Martin only laughed softly, hands still over yours. "your tense" he calmly said. Well how were you supposed to concentrate...when he's the one teaching you?
juhoon is leaned against the couch, legs stretched over the chaise as a lazy grin tugs on his lips. his gaze follows your every move, letting you know he's paying attention. though, every so often his eyes would flicker to your lips.
he hums as you finish your rant, staring at you with complete heart eyes as you sigh. you notice it, of course. not at first—it takes a few passing moments for you to comprehend that your boyfriend is in fact still there as you rant—but you notice. besides, your boyfriend's love for you has always been very...loud, even if it wasn't said through words.
you rest your elbows against the bone of the couch, legs tucking beneath you as you turn to face him. you sigh defeatedly, "well, that's my day for ya."
juhoon lets out a light chuckle, clearly amused by your ridiculous storytelling. "how was yours?" you say with a hum. he stares blankly at you for a moment.
"better," he hums. "now that you're here."
you hit his shoulder lightly. "so corny," you tease, though there's a fair amount of rosiness climbing up your cheeks.
he grins, head turning away. "it's true though."
you giggle lightly, shaking your head at his remark. suddenly, he turns his head back to you. a small beat silence goes by as he stares at your side profile.
"you really miss me that much?" you say softly, almost coming out as a whisper. you turn your head towards him again, eyes connecting. "everyday, princess."
you feel butterflies in your stomach suddenly—as if you were back in your sophomore year, confessing that you had been crushing on him. goddamn you kim juhoon. he chuckles at your silence, taking it as a sign that he had your heart racing once more.
"c'mere," he says just above a whisper. you follow his direction, climbing into his lap with your legs on either side of him. "missed you tons too." you hum, wrapping your arms around his neck as you lean in to close the distance.
your lips lock onto his, and you feel his hands immediately take hold of your waist, gently gripping them. you tilt your head just enough to deepen the kiss, eliciting a soft groan from him. you hands find its way to the back of his head, running your fingers through his hair.
his lips chase yours immediately after you pull away for air, desperate for more. "god how i've missed you." he says breathlessly, forehead resting against yours. you feel his hand at the back of your head, gently pushing you in to close the distance once more. "missed kissing you so much," he says between kisses.
you hum against him in agreement as he kisses your jaw, slowly making his way down your neck. "so pretty." you hear him say, vibrating against your skin. you feel him place light, quick kisses all over before coming back up to your lips, giving you one long and sweet kiss.
“I’m insensitive, I’m irresponsible, and I’m hungry..”
warnings: making out, some fluff some not (sort of), spidey senses are WAY off, peter wants to eat you?! #ficfetti
ship: tasm!peter parker x reader
🕸️๋࣭ ⭑
summary: your boyfriend, peter parker (who happens to be the one and only spider-man) gets home late to your apartment you both had just moved into together. it seems as though when he lets himself in from the bedroom window on the 29th floor his spidey senses are.. more unusal than they normally would be.
a/n: hey hey!! a few weeks ago I saw someone's headcanons for peter on tumblr and one of which said something/ explained how spiders can have a really high metabolism (to where they can eat a looooot) SO hypothetically.. peter could do the same because spidey senses are REAL and he would like get a cute food bump and get really shy about it and I just- I THINK THAT'S CUTE. so enjoi. love u guys!!!
words: 1.5k
·˚ ༘
it's a cold autumnal night in new york city. it was quiet in your apartment. you had just barely gotten into bed after anticipating your boyfriend, spider-man himself, to arrive back home to you.
like any superhero would, he was out protecting the city and citizens from earthly chaos. he claims that because he was able to develop his super-strength and other worldly powers it is his responsibility to use them for good. you had admiration for his willingness to risk his life to help the people of new york every night.
you stare blankly at the ceiling of your bedroom. it was always a worry when peter wouldn't get home from patrolling for more than a few hours. a wave of paranoia crept in the back of your mind at the thought of him being in danger- but of course what he was doing was dangerous.
the glowing twilight coming from your window reflected on your silk pillow case.
you lie there momentarily- thoughts concerning peter's safety running endlessly.
until suddenly: you hear a small knock coming from the fire escape. the window draws open from the bottom up. it’s peter.
peter manages to pull the window open all of the way. he swings his legs over the ledge and lets a breathy sigh of exhaustion escape his cracked, bitten lips.
blood threatens to leave his bottom lip as he's almost punctured it. other than that, though, he seems to be okay. droplets of sweat gleam where his forehead meets his fluffed chocolaty hair. he rests his clad body on the sill as he catches his breath.
“hiya bub..” he says.
“hi, you okay? It’s kind of late.” you approach him at the window and reach for his hands, just gently grasping them. you graze your thumbs down the veins running over his knuckles.
peter shakes his head and stands up with caution.
you can’t help but feel a mix of concern and awestruck when he learns against your body to brace himself.
“no, yeah. I know. I’m sorry I don’t like keeping you up like this I just-“
"peter. I'm just glad you're here."
you cut his short explanation off by kissing him on the mouth. it's soft and sweet at the start- but peter corresponds to your movement much rougher and with just an ounce of desperation.
peter bites your bottom lip softly; he savors the sweet taste of your cherry chap stick with a hint of iron.
the piquant flavors he tastes on you must only urge him further.
he takes your hips into his grip, pulling you forward towards him. "god- you smell so.. good."
"taste good too, hm?"
you reach for the nape of his neck and play with some of the hair he has there. you can feel goosebumps arise on your arms at the feeling of his touch.
peter abruptly breaks the kiss with a quiet groan. he reluctantly releases his hands off your body. he reaches for the seam of his spidey-suit. he peels it off, leaving it on the floor as he heads for the door in now only his boxers.
“I’m sorry bub. I’m so hungry.”
peter? abandoning you in the midst of making out? this, now this, confused you. it was unlike him to withdrawal from an intimate moment; especially because he's always very infatuated with physical touch from you.
when you first found out about peter's spider-like abilities gained from the radioactive spider, you had done tons of research on how spiders behave.
it turns out that they are heavily reactive in the presence of females and their pheromones.
not only that, but when peter had received physical touch from you or been around you in general, he would purr. not like a cat, but as spiders do through sending vibrations from their lower appendages to communicate.
he was just reactive in general when it came to being around you. but still, it a rare occurrence for him to be this hormonal.
you follow peter as he enters the dimly lit kitchen. a blue light illuminates the area as he opens the fridge searching for food; like somewhat of predator.
“Is it hot in here to you? ‘m really warm.” he mumbles, not averting his focus from the fridge.
peter shuffled through the various groceries you had picked up earlier that day.
“are you sure you’re okay?” typically, when peter would finish patrolling the streets of new york for the night he would be hungry, of course, but everything else..? you weren’t so sure.
this odd behavior he had was strange. you had never seen peter so needy. it was endearing nonetheless.
he doesn't break to respond to your inquiry. after another moment of watching his centralization on the fridge and it's contents, he comes up from crouching on the kitchen floor with his firm, muscular arms wrapped around a variation of prepackaged food.
he holds a pint of phish food ben and jerry's, approximately three slices of banana bread, a half eaten sub sandwich, a pickle, a pepper jack cheese stick, a tupperware containing something unknown and yellow, and an apple (for balance).
you raise an eyebrow in utter curiosity of what his next move will be.
will he actually eat all of that in one sitting??
if you had the metabolism of a spider, you probably would too.
peter locks eyes with you and notices your questioning gaze. not breaking eye contact with you he lifts his arms still carrying all of his SHIT and coyly places it on the kitchen counter. slowly, you enter the kitchen and sit on the kitchen island adjacent to peter. he doesn't even bother to move to the dining table!
peter slings a web to the cabinets where the dishware is stored, just below the ceiling. he curls up on the web and shoots another few webs to bring his grub back to his cradle on top of the cabinets.
the glow of the floor lamp outside the bedroom highlighted the drool pooling at his lip daring to escape his mouth. another thing you had learned from your extensive spider research was that peter wasn't able to produce venom, so he instead would excrete a lot of drool- and not only at the slight of food.
-
in a matter of ten minutes or so, peter finishes his meal. peter wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and leans back against the wall, just resting as the food settles in his stomach. after a moment, he steadies himself back down to the ground, taking an armful of trash down with him.
you slide off of the counter and stifle a laugh. "better? I didn't think you could finish."
you exchange a glance and he blushes in embarrassment. "hey.. I was really, really hungry bub."
peter puts the trash in the garbage next to the kitchen island. suddenly he decides to finish his act from earlier.
"I believe it." he rests his arm on your side and pulls you closer. peter seems to be much calmer now that he's had a cure all for his hunger.
a sleepy haze looms over his eyes that are struggling to stay open to look at your pretty face. he places a kiss to your cheek and it's much softer than the way he had kissed you fifteen minutes ago.
you take his hand in yours once again. "do you want to sleep now?" you ask.
with a nod, peter drags you behind him back to bed.
you both crawl into the covers. neither of you release hands. cold air drafts into the room from the window that has remained open. the city noise slowly lulls peter into a deep slumber.
he sighs. "y/n, I have to admit," you move your free hand to brush some hair out of his eyes. you speak in just a whisper. "yeah, pete? what is it?"
he quietly lets out a self conscious laugh. "I'm actually really full. like really." a soft, uncomfortable whine lingers behind his words.
"oh, I'm sure." you say. you move your hand down to rub his side in hopes that he'll somehow feel better. playfully, he glares at you. the loving look in his deep brown eyes contradict the expression he attempts to give.
you both break into a smile.
"I missed you today. I swung by your window, probably, ten times. I wanted to come home sooner."
you trace the lines across his toned abdomen- his satiation was obvious by his temporary distention and the warmth coming from his stomach.
his gaze meets your fatigued, but still joyous smile. you look up, "I missed you a lot. I was waiting for so long I didn't know when you would get back."
his legs tangle with yours under the bed sheets. it's comforting how peter settles his body touching yours.
paring: phainon, mydei, aventurine, dr. ratio, jingyuan x fem!reader
tws : nsfw / smut, creampie (vaginal & anal), breeding kink, reverse cowgirl, mate pressing, spanking, multiple of rounds, darcyphilia, virginity loss, blow-job, face sitting (?), fingering, tummy bulge, making it fit, sloppy sêx, aftercare (?), rough sêx, dubcon elements (?), dumbifiction, headlocks and petnames.
sum : You told him he was small. He showed you otherwise. Suddenly, you didn’t mind taking every inch. MDNI 18+ ONLY.
note : not proof-read as usual.
★ PHAINON :
You thought teasing him would be fun. A quiet little smirk and that sweet whisper —
“Bet you’re not even that big.”
God, the way he looked at you. Not angry. Not offended. Just… amused. Like a priest staring down a blasphemer before the altar.
Now?
Now your legs are trembling, pushed wide open, and you’re struggling to even blink. Phainon’s fingers are deep inside you — slow, deliberate, two of them hooked just right, pressing into the spot that’s got your mouth open and your brain melting.
“Small?” he murmurs, voice like velvet-wrapped gold. “And yet… you’re drooling all over my fingers. Can’t even hold yourself up.”
You want to talk. You can’t.
Every curl of his fingers pulls a moan from you like a prayer. He’s whispering again, lips brushing your ear.
“Nothing to say now? Hm? So quiet. So wet. Should I keep going until you forget your name?”
You’re nodding before you even realize it.
Your hips are grinding up against his palm now, chasing that edge he keeps pulling away from. Every time it builds, he slows down. Holds you there. Makes you feel it. The ache, the pressure, the bliss that never quite breaks. It’s maddening.
“You’re just being prepared,” he says gently, almost reverent, like this is sacred.
“Can’t ruin you in the first round, sweet thing. But by the time I do put it in, you’ll be so far gone you won’t even remember calling me small.”
“Can’t ruin you in the first round, sweet thing,” he purrs again, brushing his fingers from your soaked hole to the base of his cock. It’s heavy, flushed, leaking against your thigh now. Thick. Long. You didn’t even look at it properly—too far gone to notice while he was playing you open like a divine instrument.
“But now?” His hand wraps around the base, stroking once, slow. You see it now. And oh—he’s huge. It’s veiny, flushed deep pink at the tip, curved just enough to hit everything he was already teasing with his fingers. “Now you’re ready.”
You try to answer, but all that comes out is a soft gasp and a nod that feels more like begging.
He moves between your legs, pushing them wider—wider—until you feel stretched out and helpless under him, like an offering. And he leans forward, pressing his cockhead against your entrance. It doesn’t even go in at first. He just grinds there. Spreads you open with slow circles, letting you feel the weight of it, the heat, the stretch that’s coming.
You choke on a sound. “Pha—Phainon—”
“Shhh,” he whispers, and he smiles. Soft. Like he’s about to baptize you in holy fire. “It’ll fit.”
He pushes in slow. Painfully slow. Not because he’s teasing, but because you physically can’t take it all at once. Your cunt clenches around the thick head, already trembling as he sinks in inch by inch, pulling a broken moan out of you each time your walls stretch around him.
You try to breathe. You can’t. His hand comes to your stomach—
—and when he’s halfway in, you see it.
“Look,” he breathes, pressing gently to the bulge forming just below your bellybutton. “That’s me.”
Your eyes roll back. “T-too big—”
“It fits,” he says again, firm this time. “You’re mine. I will fit.”
And with a slow, final push, he bottoms out.
You scream.
The stretch, the pressure, the feeling of him filling you completely—it’s too much. Too perfect. Your body tightens around him like it’s never going to let go. Like you were meant to take this cock. To take his.
He doesn’t move right away. Just stays there, buried inside you, cock twitching, eyes fixed on your face and the outline in your stomach.
“Good,” he murmurs. “You’re doing so good for me. You’re going to take all of it. Again. And again. Until I’m sure it takes.”
And then he moves.
Slow at first—long, deep strokes that drag against every sweet, ruined part of you. You’re already sensitive, overfucked from his fingers, but now? Now it’s bliss. Sacred. Your hips jerk every time he bottoms out. The bulge grows and disappears, over and over, with every thrust.
“Feel that?” he whispers, dragging his lips over your jaw. “That’s what happens when you insult something divine. Now you’re going to feel it in your stomach every time you breathe.”
Your legs are shaking. You’re moaning without meaning to, drooling, tears slipping down your cheeks—not from pain. From how good it is. How full.
He starts moving faster, his rhythm breaking, and his hand goes to your thigh, holding you down as your body tries to pull away from the overwhelming pleasure.
“Where are you going?” he growls, low and possessive now. “You asked for this.”
And then it hits. He slams in deep, grinds, and your vision whites out—back arching as you cum hard, squeezing around him, sobbing from the force of it. But he doesn’t stop. If anything, he gets rougher. Harsher. His breath ragged, his grip bruising.
He’s close.
And you know it.
“I’m going to fill you,” he grits out. “So full you’ll feel it dripping for days. You’ll smell like me.”
You whimper something incoherent, but your hips rock up to meet his thrusts. You want it. You need it. The sacred burn of him claiming every inch.
“I’ll breed you until your body forgets every cock before me. Until it only remembers mine.”
The moment it happens, he growls your name, slams in deep one last time—and stays there.
You feel the heat first. Then the stretch. Then the rush of cum flooding you.
He doesn’t pull out.
Not even a little.
He just groans, low and broken, pressing his forehead to yours as he pumps every last drop inside.
And your stomach swells just slightly more with the warmth.
You don’t know how long it’s been.
The room feels warm. Your body? Weak, trembling, leaking. You’re still stretched open around him, thighs twitching, mouth parted with soft gasps. His cum is still inside you—hot, heavy, pooling deep in your cunt, trickling down your inner thighs with every shift of your hips.
You should be done.
Any normal man would’ve pulled out, cleaned you up, let you come down from the high.
But Phainon? He never even left your body.
He’s still there.
Still inside.
Still hard.
And he’s watching you—blue eyes narrowing, one palm gently resting on the bulge in your stomach.
“You’re full,” he murmurs, brushing your sticky hair off your forehead. “But you’re not bred yet.”
You try to speak. You can’t. Your jaw slackens as he pulls back just slightly, just enough for your raw, fluttering walls to feel the drag of him.
And then—
He thrusts back in.
Hard.
You scream.
It’s not pain. It’s not even pleasure. It’s too much. Your body jerks, overwhelmed, the thick mess of cum inside you squelching as he slams back into your already-spoiled cunt. You cry out again, eyes wide and watery.
“Pha—Phainon, I—can’t—”
“Yes, you can.” His voice is calm, but low. Tight with restraint. “You’re made for this. I just have to remind you.”
His hips roll again, slow at first, but deeper. Hungrier. Every stroke pushes against that oversensitive spot inside, and with the way you’re already so full—so stretched—it feels like he’s everywhere at once. Your body tries to squirm away, but he pins your hips down with one hand and holds your thigh up with the other.
“You can take it,” he breathes. “You will take it. You said I was small, remember?”
His cock slams deep, knocking the air from your lungs. He starts rutting now—thrusts rhythmic, brutal, divine—every inch pounding up into your heat like a promise. The bulge in your stomach pulses with every push, getting more visible. He presses it as he fucks into you, and you sob.
“Look at this,” he whispers. “Look what I’m doing to you. That’s my cock inside your womb, my girl. Claiming every inch. You feel it?”
You nod. You don’t even mean to, but you’re nodding like a broken thing, tears down your cheeks, gasping his name over and over like a prayer.
Phainon groans—finally slipping. His breath hitches, rhythm growing faster, more desperate.
“I’ll fuck you stupid,” he growls. “Fill you until it’s leaking down your thighs for days. Until your stomach stays round even when I pull out.”
He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t slow. He ravages you now. Your pussy is fluttering, clenching, spasming around him, soaking his cock with slick and leftover cum—and he fucks you through it. Like he’s not just fucking you, but teaching your body a lesson.
You cum again. You don’t even realize it until your vision goes white, and your body locks up, and your voice breaks into moans that don’t even sound human anymore. You’re shaking, body arching, drool on your lip—and he still doesn’t stop.
“You love it,” he says into your skin, his lips hot against your temple. “You love being ruined like this. You’ll remember this every time you try to walk.”
You’re crying. Whimpering. Nodding.
And then—his thrusts get sloppier.
You feel him swell.
You know it’s coming.
And he grips your hips and slams in—deep, to the hilt—and holds you there as he spills inside again.
This time? It’s worse.
There’s so much. You can feel it—thick, hot, and endless, rushing in and filling you again like your body was empty. Your belly feels heavier. Rounder. The bulge pulses with warmth as he unloads for the second time.
You can’t even make a sound. Just wide eyes and soft, shattered moans.
He stays there, cock buried inside, twitching, body trembling.
You’re limp. Your thighs are soaked. Your belly’s full. His seed’s dripping down your ass in thick, creamy strings—but he’s still there. Still holding you like something sacred and fragile.
And he leans down, kisses your lips gently, and whispers:
“Still think I’m small?”
You’re too ruined to answer.
But the mess between your legs answers for you.
★ MYDEIMOS :
“You’re small.”
You say it soft. Real soft. Barely a whisper in his ear while you lie under him, half-smirking. You think you’re being cute. Teasing. Stirring that man into a scoff.
But what you get isn’t a scoff or a groan
It’s silence.
Mydei just looks at you—no expression, just heat—and the next second?
He’s on you.
You’re grabbed, flipped, thrown down, and spread open in seconds—legs pinned back to your chest, his thick arms caging you in. You barely get a breath before he’s lining his cock up to your dripping pussy and slams it in.
No warning. No build-up. Just the wet, brutal sound of your cunt getting split open around cock that doesn’t fit but forces its way in anyway.
You scream.
It’s not pain—it’s your pussy trying to figure out how to swallow something that fucking thick. Your lips stretch wide, your walls clench down like they’re confused, stuffed past their limit, already leaking and sucking him in like they know who’s boss now.
He leans in close—chest pressed flat to yours, his full body on you. You can’t move. Can’t breathe. You’re folded up under him like you’re nothing but a fleshlight with a heartbeat, pinned so tight your legs tremble and twitch beside his ribs.
His cock’s balls deep inside.
His stomach presses down on yours.
You look down and see the shape of it—see the thick bulge of his cock pushing up against your belly like he’s trying to break through it.
“Small?” he finally grunts, voice rough in your ear. “You feel that, baby? That’s my dick rearranging your insides.”
And then he starts thrusting into your already wet cunt.
The sound of skin smacking skin gets wetter every second, your pussy making those filthy, squelching noises with every bounce of his hips, juices spilling out everywhere, dripping off your ass and soaking the sheets.
You’re gasping. Whining. Eyes rolling back. You try to say something, maybe beg, maybe moan—but he just grabs your throat and slams in deeper.
You can’t move. You’re folded. Flattened under him. His thick body covers you, keeps you down, presses his weight into you like he’s trying to leave a permanent mark inside your guts.
He spits in your mouth.
“You wanna say that again?” he growls, snapping his hips. “Call me small now.”
You can’t. You’re just moaning, mouth open, drooling on yourself while your pussy flutters and twitches around his cock, slick and swollen from the constant stretch.
“God, you sound stupid,” he groans. “You are stupid now, huh? Just a dumb little hole to fuck. Nothin’ goin’ on in that brain except how deep this cock is.”
And it’s true.
You’re quiet. Brain blank. All you know is the drag and shove of that thick cock inside you, bruising your cunt, flattening your womb. You’re leaking all over his balls, slick sticking to his thighs, his dick punching your guts over and over.
He sits back—brings you with him—doesn’t pull out.
Now you’re in his lap, straddling him, but still bent back, your pussy still spread open, still stuffed with cock. He’s bouncing you now—your ass smacking down on his thighs, tits bouncing, cunt slapping messy around him with every brutal thrust.
You’re just moaning.
“My fuckin’ girl,” he pants. “You were made for this. Made to take all this cock. Gonna breed you right. Knock the last of your thoughts out with my load.”
Your tummy bulges again as he lifts you and slams you down harder.
He wraps one thick arm around your neck—tight headlock—and fucks you through it.
“Say it again,” he hisses in your ear. “Say I’m small while your pussy’s creaming on me like a bitch in heat.”
But you can’t speak. You’re gone.
You’re drooling, eyes crossed, pussy fluttering tight around his dick, holding him in like you’re scared he’ll pull out. You’re gushing—cum and slick squirting out around his cock, dripping mess all over the floor.
He moans. And he breaks.
He grabs your hips, slams you down to the base, and stays there—deep, buried, locked in place.
You feel his cock twitch.
Thick. Heavy. Flooding your cunt, stretching you with cum. You feel it pump into you in hot, heavy spurts, overflowing inside, leaking down your thighs. Your belly gets heavier with it. You swear your pussy’s too full to take more but he doesn’t stop—he keeps grinding.
You’re folded in his lap now, cock still buried so deep it feels like it’s in your throat, cum dripping down between your cheeks in fat, warm globs—and Mydei leans down and brushes your hair from your face like he didn’t just fuck you stupid.
He smirks, nuzzles your flushed cheek.
“Well?” he murmurs, hips slowly rolling again, so slow, just enough to make you feel every inch of him dragging against your raw, sensitive walls. “Still think I’m small?”
You whimper.
That’s all you can manage. Your voice is gone, fucked out of your throat. Your legs won’t stop shaking. Your pussy’s twitching around him like it’s begging for more even though it’s so overstretched, puffy and red from being used.
He hums.
“Didn’t think so.”
And then he kisses you.
Soft. Deep. One hand cupping the back of your head while his tongue lazily rolls against yours. His cock stays buried inside—warm, pulsing—but he’s not fucking you now. Not yet. He’s just holding you there, like he’s soaking in the mess he made.
You blink at him slowly, dazed, drooling, skin slick with sweat.
“Mydei…” you whine.
That’s it. Just his name. Barely even that.
He smiles.
Kisses you again. Starts rocking his hips in that gentle, sweet rhythm—like he’s in love with the way your pussy squeezes him, like he could spend all night just watching you fall apart again under him, all flushed and sore and needy.
“You want more, don’t you?” he murmurs against your lips. “Can feel this little hole begging for it. She’s so greedy, baby.”
You nod. Eyes glassy.
“Good girl,” he breathes. “Let me take care of you, yeah?”
He shifts—pulls out halfway, then slides back in slow, cock thick and veiny and still leaking cum. You moan. Loud. Body arching, hips rolling up to meet him like your pussy’s chasing him.
He watches your face. Watches your expression twist and tremble while he fucks you slow—tender, now, but deep. Deep enough to make your stomach bulge again. Deep enough to make your toes curl.
You look down and whine.
“Look at her,” he growls softly. “Still stretched open. Still dripping for me. You’re so fucking full, baby…”
He slides his hand down between your bodies—presses gently on your lower belly.
You squeal.
Because you feel it—his cock pressing from the inside, bulging your stomach, thick and firm. His thumb rubs circles there while his hips start rolling deeper again, gentle but intentional, grinding into the soft spot inside you like he knows exactly where to touch.
And of course he does.
He’s Mydei.
Your big, mean man. Who just turned into your soft, obsessed husband the second he dumped a load in you.
“Still got room in there,” he murmurs. “Don’t lie, I can feel it. Gonna fill you up again, sweetheart. Gonna make you mine again and again ‘til it’s dripping out of your belly button.”
You’re babbling now.
Begging. Sobbing.
Tears well up as the overstimulation kicks in—but it’s good. It’s so good. He’s so sweet with it, kissing your face, stroking your sides, murmuring filth right into your ear like it’s a love confession.
“You’re everything,” he says. “You hear me? . My pretty girl. I’d fuck you every hour of every day if I could. You were made to take this cock.”
You clench.
He groans.
He cums again.
Slower this time, but hotter somehow—he moans into your mouth, deep and low, hips locked against you as his cock throbs and spills another load inside you, thick and lazy and so much. You feel it pushing everything else out, dripping down your thighs again.
He doesn’t move. Just holds you there, cock deep, cum inside, lips on yours.
“Still small?” he whispers again.
You shake your head, dazed and full.
“No…”
His smirk is feral.
“Didn’t think so.”
★ AVENTURINE :
You’re smirking. Shouldn’t be, but you are.
He’s got you cornered, back against the sleek marble wall of your suite, his tie undone and sleeves rolled, chest warm against yours. One hand rests on the small of your back, the other gripping your chin, keeping your gaze locked with his like you’ve just handed him a challenge on a silver platter.
“Repeat it,” he says softly. Too softly. That smile on his face isn’t a smile , it’s a loaded weapon.
You raise your brows like you’re innocent. You’re not. You know exactly what you said.
“I said,” you purr, playing with the buttons on his shirt like you don’t feel your heartbeat slamming in your chest, “you’re a bit… small.”
There it is. That twitch in his jaw. That flash in his violet eyes like you just poked a sleeping god awake.
He laughs, low and rich, like you just handed him a glass of vintage wine and dared him to break it over your head.
“Small,” he echoes, tilting your face up further. “Interesting.”
You try to act bored. You’re so full of shit.
“Not small small,” you add with a shrug. “Just… not as big as you pretend to be.”
Silence.
Then his lips press against yours — hard. His tongue slides past your lips like he owns them, teeth catching your bottom lip in a cruel, teasing bite before he pulls back just enough to speak again.
“You’re gonna eat those words,” he murmurs, hot against your mouth. “Every single one.”
He takes his time getting you on the bed. Doesn’t throw you down—no, that’d be too easy. He leads you there, fingers on your chin, your throat, your wrist. Every step is deliberate. He pulls you into his lap, clothes still half-on, thighs spread, cock already hard under the slacks he hasn’t even taken off.
“Come on then,” he says, loosening his belt. “Climb on. Since you’re so confident.”
You crawl into his lap like the brat you are — like you’re still in control — grinding slow against the thick outline of his cock as you straddle him, smug smirk still on your face.
“Gonna prove me wrong, little man?” you whisper, voice sugar-sweet.
That earns you a slap.
Not on your face—no, Aventurine’s too elegant for that—but on your ass. Hard. Your body jerks forward, chest colliding with his, a sharp gasp punched from your throat.
“Wrong?” he murmurs, voice thick with amusement. “Oh darling. I’m gonna ruin you so thoroughly, you’ll beg me to be smaller.”
He grabs your waist and flips you around, pulling you back into his lap so you’re facing away from him now, knees spread, his cock sliding free from his slacks and standing proud between your thighs.
You glance down and blink. …Oh. Okay. Maybe he’s not small. Maybe he’s the opposite of small. Maybe you’re very stupid.
Before you can recover, he spits into his palm and strokes himself once—twice— then presses the head against your entrance, one hand gripping your waist and the other trailing slowly, so slowly, down your front.
“Go on,” he whispers against your neck. “Show me how small it feels.”
You sink down.
Your mouth falls open. No words. Just a gasp—long, high, desperate, as his cock stretches you open, thick and hot, filling every inch with a pressure that borders on unbearable.
“Mm?” he purrs, hands gripping your hips as you struggle to take him. “Not speaking now? I thought you were feeling brave tonight.”
You whimper. He laughs.
“Oh, sweetheart,” he groans, sliding in deeper until your thighs are shaking. “This is barely halfway.”
You try to lift yourself off—you try—but he yanks you right back down with a smack to your ass, his cock punching so deep inside you your belly bulges just slightly, perfect and obscene.
“Look at that,” he murmurs, brushing a hand over the spot. “That little bump? That’s me. That’s how ‘small’ I am, hm?”
You’re shaking now. Gasping, drooling, grinding down on him with needy little movements you can’t even pretend are confident anymore.
He drags his lips along your shoulder, bites lightly at your neck, and then thrusts upward. Just once. Deep. Hard.
You sob.
“What was that?” he says sweetly. “Sounded like you were gonna apologize.”
You try—you try so hard—but all that comes out is a pathetic, broken moan.
“Oh, honey,” he breathes, voice full of velvet cruelty. “You don’t get to apologize yet.”
He grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging your head back so you’re arching beautifully in his lap, cock still snug and deep inside you. His other hand? Slipping down your front, fingers rubbing right over where you’re throbbing, making you jolt.
“You don’t apologize,” he hisses, “until your knees give out. Until you’re sobbing on my cock.”
You whimper again.
He slaps your thigh—once, twice—then grips your hips and starts fucking up into you, slow and deliberate at first, then faster. Harder. The wet slap of skin against skin fills the room, mixed with your messy, choked cries and his deep, smug groans.
“You said I was small,” he pants, cock ramming into that spot that makes your eyes roll back. “Say it again.”
“N-no—”
“Say it.”
You try, you do—but all you can say is his name, over and over, like a prayer, like a surrender.
He laughs. Moans. Slaps your ass again and watches the ripple with admiration.
“Not so mouthy now, huh?” he says against your neck. “But don’t worry. You’ll get your words back.”
He pulls out, flips you around, and shoves you down to your knees.
His cock is flushed, slick and throbbing, still twitching from the tight heat of your cunt, and he grips it at the base with one hand while guiding your face forward with the other.
“Put that smart little mouth to work,” he growls. “Since you seem to like talking shit.”
You suck him in with shaking hands, lips stretched wide, eyes glassy. He watches you —loves watching you—as you gag and drool around him, your body still trembling from the wreckage he left in his wake.
“Mm, that’s it,” he groans, thrusting slow into your mouth. “Choke on it, baby. Just like you choked on your pride.”
You blink up at him—ruined, teary-eyed, mascara smudged, thighs shaking from being fucked half senseless—and he smiles down at you like the devil himself.
“Still think I’m small?” he whispers.
You shake your head.
“Mmm. Thought so.”
★ DR. RATIO :
You really thought you were funny.
Laid back against the library table, your skirt barely hiding the subtle shift of your thighs, you looked at him with that smug, syrupy smile. With a little shrug, you said it clearly,
“You don’t seem like much, Doctor. Bet you’d barely reach.”
The air went suddenly colder.
He didn’t even blink. Instead, he stared at you like you’d just insulted his entire intellect or knocked over his carefully brewed tea. His fingers twitched near his belt, then the sharp clack of his book closing echoed like a gunshot. He stood up.
“Is that so?” His voice was low, dry, and uninterested. That dangerous, mean little smile tugged at the corner of his mouth — not amused, not flirtatious, just a condescending twist that made your stomach knot.
“Well. Let’s test your hypothesis, shall we?”
You should have run. But no. You bit your lip and smirked like the brat you were.
That was your first mistake.
He didn’t say a word as he reached out and flipped you over the desk like you weighed nothing, settling you down flat.
“Still think I’m small?” he gritted, voice low and sharp as his hips ground down hard against you. Your mouth fell open, no witty comeback ready — just the sharp, helpless squeal that escaped when you felt every inch of him.
He was not small. Far from it. He was massive, pressing into you relentlessly, while piles of research scattered beneath you like forgotten papers.
Your cheek stuck to parchment. One hand pressed between your shoulder blades, holding you still, while the other landed on your ass with a resounding smack that made the desk creak beneath you.
“Use your words, test subject.” His voice was laced with sarcasm, irritated and turned on. “You wanted a measurement, didn’t you? Want me to push deeper?”
You whimpered, your legs trembling. That wasn’t enough for him. His hand smacked your ass again, harder this time, then grabbed and spread you wider without shame. He watched you — how your body folded and shivered under his weight — your belly visibly bulging each time he thrust deep, as if your insides were made just for him.
“You’ll take it. That’s what happens when you provoke a man smarter than you.”
It was filthy. Your legs shook uncontrollably, thighs wobbling under the pressure, but he didn’t relent. His body was big, lean but solid — every breath sharp, every growl low and frustrated in your ear. He was not romantic. He was not gentle. He was merciless.
“You’re so full it’s pathetic,” he hissed, grinding his hips harder. “Still think I’m small? Look down. Look at what I’m doing to that belly.”
You did.
You shouldn’t have.
A big, round lump pushed out against your stomach, his cock deep enough to mark you completely.
“You’re drooling,” he sneered. “Still think I’m small?”
You couldn’t answer. You were gasping, nails scraping at the wood as he locked his arms tight around your waist — not letting you escape, not letting you think — mate pressing you until your toes curled and your moans came ragged and raw.
“Say you’re sorry.”
You didn’t.
So he spanked you again, harder this time, then slammed into you deeper until the wet squelching of your cunt echoed through the silent study.
You choked out something broken and breathless. He didn’t care.
“I’ll breed the arrogance out of you,” Ratio muttered under his breath, like your whining was just another tedious experiment. “Let’s see if a few loads fix your attitude.”
He gripped your waist tighter, his breath hot against your ear as his hips pressed deep and unrelenting. Every thrust carved into you, making that heavy bulge in your belly push out more, like you were stretched perfectly around him—no chance to hide it, no mercy given.
His hand found your ass again, slapping it hard, fingers kneading and holding you in place. “You think you’re so clever, talking shit. But look at you now—mine. All wrapped around me, dripping and desperate.”
Your breath hitched, body trembling as he kept pounding into you, the sound of your slick wetness mixing with the harsh smacks filling the quiet room.
“Say it,” he growled, voice low and rough. “Say you’re mine.”
Your voice broke, trembling out, “I’m yours.”
His grin was cruel and satisfied as he pulled you flush against him, mate pressing with all his weight, making sure you couldn’t move, couldn’t escape. The fullness inside you stretched tighter, and he whispered, “You’re so full. Can’t get enough of me, can you?”
You whimpered, head thrown back, utterly undone.
With a sharp slap to your ass, he pulled out just enough so you could feel the thick length twitching, then slammed back inside, his pace rougher, more demanding.
“I’m gonna breed that stubbornness right out of you,” he breathed, voice dark and possessed. “You’ll remember this every damn time you think you can test me.”
Your walls clenched hard around him, moans slipping free as he kept driving you into the desk, holding you down like you were his prize.
“Beg for it,” he said, dragging his hand up to grip your hair, tilting your face so you had no choice but to look at him.
You whimpered, “Please… don’t stop.”
His laugh was low and satisfied. “That’s my good girl.”
He pressed forward, hips snapping, every movement pounding deeper, stretching you full and making your belly roll with the pressure.
Your breath caught as he tensed, voice rough, “Say it. Say I’m the only one.”
“I’m yours,” you gasped, trembling and undone.
With a final, heavy thrust, he claimed you fully, breath hitching as he spilled inside, filling you with everything he had.
He held you pressed tight as you trembled beneath him, hips still rolling lazily, possessive and relentless.
“I told you,” he whispered against your skin, “I’m never small.”
★ JING YUAN :
You really shouldn’t have said it.
You really shouldn’t have looked the General of the Cloud Knights in the eye—shirt tugged up, thighs bare and your panties already wet—and had the audacity to say:
“Tch. With all that confidence, your cock’s probably small anyway.”
The room went quiet for a second.
The kind of quiet where even the crickets were like oh no she didn’t.
Jing Yuan blinked.
Smiled.
Then laughed—that slow, deep, maddening chuckle that slithered straight down your spine like warm honey.
“Small, huh?” he repeated, stretching his arms behind his head like he wasn’t already rock hard in his robes. “Ah… You poor little thing.”
You weren’t prepared for how fast he moved.
One second you’re smug.
Next second your back hits the mattress with a soft thud, legs spread open like he owned them, your panties tugged to the side and his thumb lazily brushing over your soaked folds.
“Say that again.” His voice was low, a little breathy. He hadn’t even taken his robes off. “Let’s see how long you keep that mouth running.”
You gasped when he pulled it out.
Holy—
He knew. Oh, he knew exactly what kind of look crossed your face. The shock. The panic. The twitch of your thighs like they were second-guessing their own bravery.
“I think someone owes me an apology,” he murmured, rubbing the head of his cock against your clit like he was just casually testing the weather. “Or should I make you eat those words?”
Smug bastard. That slow, lazy smile. That thick, achingly hard cock.
You didn’t even have time to beg.
He grabbed you by the back of your head, tilted your jaw open, and fed it to you.
Slow. Deep. Sloppy.
“Mm— look at you now.” His hips rolled like he was half-asleep, voice curling with pure sin. “Choking on the small one, are we?”
You clawed at his thighs when he held you down, cock pressing heavy on your tongue, mocking your every breath. He groaned every time you gagged around him, every time you tried to glare up at him through teary eyes.
“Can’t talk back with your mouth full, hm?” Jing Yuan chuckled, cupping your cheek. “Maybe I’ll keep you like this for a while. Let that attitude melt off your tongue.”
When he finally let you breathe, you were wrecked.
Mascara smeared. Drool dripping down your chin. Knees trembling.
“Aw,” he cooed, petting your hair. “What happened to all that big talk?”
And then—he flipped you over.
One smooth motion, you were face-down, ass up, and his cock already nudging at your entrance.
“This might stretch a little,” he murmured, completely fake sweetness in his tone.
Liar.
You screamed when he pushed in. Inch by thick, punishing inch. Your pussy clenched like it was trying to reject him, but it only made him groan, hands gripping your hips like he was claiming them.
“Fuck, you feel that?” he growled into your ear, voice deeper now, panting against your neck. “Say it again. Say it’s small while it’s splitting you open.”
You tried.
You couldn’t.
Not when he started moving.
Lazy, powerful thrusts that made the bed shake and your legs wobble. He stayed buried deep, hips grinding in slow circles like he had all the time in the world. His hand slipped between your thighs, rubbing your clit like he was spoiling you—just to drive you even crazier.
“Tell me how small I am while you’re dripping like this,” he teased, pinching your clit until you squealed. “Come on, sweetheart. Be brave again.”
All you could do was cry his name.
Over and over.
When you finally came, it was messy. Shaky. So tight around him he groaned into your skin, fucking you through it until your body gave up.
You collapsed, twitching.
And he?
He stayed inside you. Still hard. Still smug.
Leaning down, lips brushing your ear, he whispered:
“…Want to try that again?”
You don’t remember how you got here.
Well, actually—you do. It started with a smug smirk, your bratty mouth, and one too many giggles tossed at the general’s expense.
“With how lazy you are, your cock’s probably soft and small too.”
And now?
Now you’re stuffed full.
Flat on your back, legs trembling, and that massive cock buried so deep your belly’s showing a bulge.
You don’t even have the words anymore. Just little hiccuping moans, drool sliding from the corner of your mouth, and your fingers pressed against your lower belly in pure awe.
“Look at that.” Jing Yuan leans over you, lazy eyes glinting as he lays his palm right on the bulge in your tummy. He presses.
You squeal. Your legs twitch.
“You were running your mouth earlier,” he murmurs, thumb rubbing soft, slow circles over the swollen outline of his cock in your gut. “And now you’re just whining and taking it.”
He rolls his hips, and your back arches. Your soaked pussy clenches again like it can’t help it.
“Can feel me here, can’t you?” he purrs. “Might be small… but it’s so deep, baby.”
You try to speak—really—but all that comes out is a whimper, a little breathless sob of “Yuan—too much, I-I can’t—”
He smirks.
“Yes, you can.”
Then he pulls out—slow, dripping wet, your folds clinging to him—and slams right back in, thick and deep enough you swear you see stars.
You scream.
Your body jerks. Your brain just shorts out.
And he leans down, whispering filth into your ear:
“You don’t need to think. Just keep your legs open and take your stuffing like a good little pillow princess.”
You moan, dumb and needy. All that snark from earlier? Gone. Replaced with sniffles, tears, and broken hiccups as he pounds into you—slow, lazy, and endlessly smug.
“Fuck, gonna breed you,” Jing Yuan growls, fucking you deeper, slapping your thigh. “Gonna fill you so good you’ll be dripping my cum for days. Want that, huh? Want to get knocked up on a small cock?”
You nod.
You sob.
He groans when you clench down again, cock pulsing, hips slamming into your thighs as he spills inside you. Thick, messy ropes that flood your womb and drip out around his base—but he doesn’t stop.
“Stay still,” he pants, pinning you down. “You’re gonna take another one.”
And you do.
And another.
You don’t even realize he’s lying down beneath you until you’re shoved onto his face.
Your thighs shake. His tongue slides right up your slit and licks his own cum from your pussy.
Your moans are broken, hands digging into his messy blond hair as you grind down, riding his face like it’s the only way you remember how to breathe.
“That’s it,” he hums against your folds, voice muffled by your soaked pussy. “Sit on me. Get dumb on this tongue too.”
You do.
You lose your mind.
You cum. Again. And again. So messy, so overstimmed, your voice cracking into little sobs.
When you collapse off his face, ruined and twitching, he kisses your thigh.
It’s been a long day, perhaps even more than that. But there’s nothing like falling into the arms of the one who can get your mind off of things — or in other words, your lover fucks you until you cry.
❤︎ cast: jing yuan, blade, ratio, mydei x fem reader
warnings: smut, hurt/comfort vibes, established relationships, creampies, manhandling, fingering, bath sex, desktop sex, crying - HONESTLY THESE ARE V SOFT 🥺 around 5k words. 18+ ONLY MINORS AND BLANK/AGELESS BLOGS DNI
Jing Yuan
It was rather thoughtless to ever believe that Jing Yuan was not the type to be able to see very clearly through whatever wall you were trying to put up. The smiles you flashed him, avoiding the glimmering gold of his fond gaze when he ran a hand across your tight and taught shoulders, tensing when his fingers brushed along them. You were not one to brush him off, but today you were neatly folded in on yourself against the corner of the couch, watching the finches flutter from the window but not with any indication of wanting to see their happy winged flaps — but just to ruminate on whatever was clearly bothering you.
At the third sigh, the third “I’m alright, Jing Yuan, it’s nothing.” the man who is a picture of patience itself had resorted to a gentle grasp at your delicate ankle, a squeeze to it that finally snapped you from your thoughts and had you staring at your husband. His thumb gently stroked your ankle bone while the smile on his face was knowing, but not any less sharp as you blinked rapidly at his closeness.
“Little rabbit, I implore you not to lie to me. I quite enjoy our honesty with each other.”
You swallowed, inhaling deeply and slowly, then a smile like a grimace,
“I really am okay.”
You did not expect for the General to grasp your ankle a little harder, as a means to tug you quickly and harshly across the couch. You yelped loudly, the finches happily fluttering outside now scattered from the noise, your body laying on the comfort of the plush couch with your ankle still in hand of Jing Yuan but now held in the air as he effortlessly climbed between your body. Your other leg parted for him, as such a broad presence only could do for him to settle with his crotch close to yours. Your little dress naturally was pushed up at the sudden manhandling, showing him your panties. It didn’t matter that you were with this man for awhile now that still the exposure had your face hot.
He tutted at you, which always irritated you in a way, as it meant you had already lost. Jing Yuan, your clever strategist, your ever watchful General and how he so often was able to pull out whatever ruse you were trying to hide. Such frustration came with softened edges, because really it was all from how he loved you so.
“I would like for you to tell me the truth, unless you would like for me to pull it from you myself? Your body does tend to react quite..sensitively to my methods, wouldn’t you agree?” Jing Yuan mused, your eyes flitted down to see his large shaft, half hard in his trousers. You gulped shamefully, knowing that this entire situation had your pussy aching and wet despite the uproar of emotions going on in your head, the gusset of your underwear uncomfortably sticking to your lips.
He’s about to devour you, rightfully so, when you sniffle. Jing Yuan, whose eyes have not left your sweet face, watches you beg for him. So softly, meek and weak.
“I need you, Jing Yuan.”
Ah, he smiled, chuckling softly through his nostrils and not minding at all when you groaned and swatted his shoulder for it. He was all too happy to remind you how important you have always been in his life — such an old man as himself was not going to take advantage of your sweet soul.
He helped peel your sodden panties off first, a wide palm gliding down your inner thigh to press you open just a little more. You felt your pussy flutter at his touch that didn’t quite reach the place you wanted, but in your distraction your lover nosed at your cheek, prompting you to meet his gaze. He always looked at you so fondly it nearly made your body seize with shyness, only a whimper of his name said before he was kissing you.
He allowed his lips to tentatively work yours open, swallowing down every one of your whimpers and little sighs. Your fingers reached down to toy with the zipper of his pants, gliding along the hardness throbbing against his thigh until he smiled against your mouth and helped you pull his hefty cock from its confines. His tip was at your entrance, tacky and weeping with pre as he started to press into you. It was always a stretch, but always worth it.
“Please…” you murmured into his mouth, lashes fluttering at another tiny push of his fat cock splitting you. Jing Yuan’s broad figure was hunched over you, his starlight hair a curtain around your face when you cried out at his heavy, full sheath into your cunt in one mighty stroke. You nearly passed out at the knock of him against your cervix, but your lover did not allow it. He kissed you ardently, his hands sliding down to beneath your ass cheeks where with each handful he hoisted your bottom half up to meet the thudding smacks of his hips meeting yours.
“You were withholding things from me, but know that I won’t let you run from me. I love you too much for that, do you understand?” he grunted with his jaw clenched at his punctured thrusts. You were so wet and pliant, nodding with your nails digging into his scarred skin.
You being squished on the couch under him, you had nowhere to go and no choice but to moan into his shoulder, your ass in his hold and shoving you onto his cock over and over — you were always so in awe of his well placed stamina, leaving you shaking and screaming. Much like you hoped today would end the same.
But instead, because of the overwhelming feeling of it all, being in his arms after fighting with yourself so much, you began to cry. Jing Yuan cooed, settling your ass back down against the couch and his thumb finding your swollen clit in one swift movement.
“Let it all out, little one. I’ll catch you.” he promised, the press of his thumb harder on your slippery clit and cock still wrecking your insides.
You wailed, back arching as far as it could muster while still being pressed against Jing Yuans chest, tears so rapidly falling down your cheeks and voice growing raspy as you tightened around him with your face in his neck. He groaned deeply, the sound of a powerful man so enthralled with you dizzying, kissing and mouthing at your hot wet face while you shook at his cock still fucking you until he met his climax with a full body shiver. You were so warm, being filled with his creamy seed and his bulky body settling over yours with a gentleness only Jing Yuan could muster. You shuddered in his arms, still sniffling and sobbing quietly, unwilling to let him move away from you.
Jing Yuan kissed to side of your head, whispering I love you as you cried and allowed your previously withheld vulnerability fall away with him.
“Anything you are going through, we will do so together. Such is my vow, that I take very seriously you know.” Jing Yuan murmured, nuzzling against the side of your face as your breathing settled. You nodded again,
“I’ll try to be better about it Jing Yuan.”
He kissed your lips and when he gave you again his sweetly knowing smile, you felt more tears begin to well up.
“And if you have trouble, I have no qualms doing this again to aid you.” and at that, you laughed, a smile vivid and real and beautiful.
That was really all he wanted, and while you needed the reminder that it was all possible again to feel this way.
Blade
If ever there were a man who was more than willing and able to notice the little things about you, Blade would find him and insist with a blank but steady stare at how he was in fact, more so than that. He was oddly kind, someone from a nightmare when you first encountered him. All shadows and scowls and a stormy past that caught you admittedly off guard with his tender hand and need to keep you close with a kiss to your temple or a plate of cut up fruit set wordlessly beside you. He was aware that even now you still kept a lot of your heart from him, and in fairness he too sometimes expressed difficulty in showing all of his heart. But he was resolved to continue to love you thoroughly, and it made a wounded man such as him exceedingly glad to be loved in return by you. It was no surprise then that in Blades perception he knew you were struggling and in an awkward but endearing way he approached you with a pinch to your chin to lift your gaze up to him.
You frowned, eyes darting away from his sharp red gaze and he sighed deeply as he sat down beside you, pulling you suddenly into his lap and uncaring of your protesting whine.
“Something is bothering you.” he stated simply into the side of your neck. His knees spread and in turn spread your knees too where you were seated in his lap, bandaged hands settled on your thighs, but you just huffed softly with your head still turned away.
“I just…I had a long day.” you said quietly, and a little annoyed too if Blade heard correctly. He didn’t like the sound of it, your apprehension and frustration had your heart thudding but your body tired. His palms stroked your legs, down to your knee and back up your thighs again in a comforting manner.
“Blade…” you said softly, adjusting yourself on his lap with your ass pressed against his crotch. His hands on your thighs creeped up, and you’d felt the way he inhaled your scent with his face in your neck,
“Will you make me feel better?” you asked, the words coming out warbled and wet, shyly turning towards your lover. Blade looked at you with low and shadowed eyes, nodding solemnly before he leaned in for a kiss.
From the angle, kissing him was difficult, and different — however knowing Blade you dared not move from his lap and kissed him anyway, letting him grunt into your mouth and then nuzzle his nose against your cheek to bring his kisses down to your neck. All this time you writhed slowly in his lap, just enough to feel his cock hardening against your back but Blades steeled hands didn’t let you tease much longer.
Instead he spread your legs wider with his knees and his fingers went to the gusset of your underwear. You’d only been wearing a comfortable little nightgown, something easy and cool on a warm night. So with your sleepwear disheveled and your panties growing more and more sopping with your essence, your chest arched and nipples strained against the fabric as Blade stroked a finger up and down your clothed slit. Your head fell back to settle in his shoulder, eyes fluttered shut.
“You will have to tell me what’s on your mind eventually girl.” Blade said calmly, letting his finger press down a little harder to hear you gasp.
You nodded, “I…I will Blade, just please…” you sighed, his fingertips rubbing at your clit through the fabric, the sensation making you hazy.
“Please what?” he responded quietly, fingers still against your core.
“Please make me feel better. Please keep touching me…”
Blade grunted in that deeply, taking two fingers to pull your panties to the side while his other hand went to cup your cunt. You hissed at the lack of touch, but he then brought up his middle finger to part your soaked pussy, stopping his fingertip right at your clit to pet at it. Your thighs trembled when he began to stroke your slit, pausing to press at your clit here and slipping his finger inside you there. He changed his middle finger to his middle and ring finger then, sliding them all the way in while you keened and gushed into his palm. The way he stroked your insides with his fingers, thrusting them absurdly fast and precise — only a testament of the way he was always so attentive to you, left your hands grasping at his wrist though entirely unsuccessful to get his ministrations to slow down.
With the pleasurable pressure building between your legs, your back bowed as Blade finally brought his other hand in to play, swiping and pinching your clit until you began to squeal. You gasped pitifully until your head swam and your face grew hotter at the sensation and tears then surprisingly began to quickly steam down your cheeks. You came with a sharp cry, Blades fingers still working inside you. Dripping down his wrist and tacky from your release, pussy fluttering around his digits while your sobbing gasps left your throat dry.
You went limp after your orgasm, shaking and crying in his arms. Blade withdrew his fingers from you, watching the shimmering gossamer threads of your bliss sticking to him until breaking lewdly before he turned you in his lap, your cheek against his chest while you trembled. Your tears soaked his bandages and you sniffled that you would help him change them soon, and to your surprise you heard a lighthearted snort come from Blade. You blinked up at him, and he wiped at your wet eyes with his knuckle,
“This is not about me. It’s about making you feel better. Do not try to change the subject.”
“I wasn’t…”
“You were, and I will not allow you to forget that I am here for you in whatever way you should desire.” he retorts, keeping you pressed into his sturdy hold. You nodded weakly, leaning in to kiss his cheek.
“Okay Blade, thank you for the reminder.” you said quietly, curling into his lap even more. Blade sat still until your breathing evened out and you were asleep, tears dried on your cheeks and your lips parted in happy slumber, not seeing his slight smile down at you.
Ratio
To be loved by Veritas Ratio, meant to be seen. Even on the days you admittedly, did not want to be. You could hide your every bad or ugly thought the best you could, opting to smile and giggle until the doctor was cupping your cheeks and nearly glaring at you for not being honest with him, and even with yourself in his desire as your lover to at the very least make you aware of his want to be there for you. So maybe on occasion, because of that, you don’t fight it.
Even if it means you’re embarrassed and your hands are clammy, cheeks warm and heart thudding. You’d had a terrible week, feeling drained in every sense of the word and if you didn’t do something soon, you were positive you were going to collapse from heartache. Ratio was seated at his desk, reading to no one’s surprise, ever beautiful and concentrated and he had told you many times that he had no issue with you interrupting his work or reading if you needed his time. But still, it was difficult to muster the courage to go to him, for numerous reasons.
“Are you going to come here or shall you stare at me a little longer?” he remarked, not looking up from the page he was on. But when you didn’t come forward he closed the book and looked to you, holding out his hand to beckon you nearer.
You came to him not fully out of obedience you told yourself, but because you really did need him. Ratio cupped your cheek and his thumb found your bottom lip, tilting his head with a pinched brow to gaze at you most inquisitively. He waited with patience, much more than he offered most. Your eyes wavered, but you rocked forward on your toes until your lips collided with his, gently enough to show your shyness but bold enough to captivate him as his arm wound around your waist and he deepened the kiss in return. Your breaths became heavy, lips locking and your hands threading into his hair.
“To what do I owe this affection?” he mused against your mouth. You were backed against his desk now, nearly sitting atop of it.
“I just…I really need you, Veritas.” your breathing is rasped, low as you shakily admit the words to him. You resolve not to tear up, but he catches the twitch of your brow and the way your lips fight to go down into a sad frown. He hums, kissing you assuredly and petting at your sides while you hug him closer.
“And just what are you particularly needing my dear? Something tells me you would like more…physical attention from me?”
You nod, slowly and quietly as you bury your face in his chest almost shamefully. Your core was hot, needy, and his familiar body against yours only had your ears feeling stuffed with cotton. Ratio tilted your chin up and narrowed his gaze at you, not wanting to push but to see your little details, the ones that make you, you. With a sigh, he turned you around, a palm flat against your spine with his fingers splayed out to press you down against the cool wood of his desk.
He was glad he didn’t have much there, plenty of room for you to comfortably lay and for him to come up behind you with his crotch pressed against your ass. You waited and rocked on the balls of your feet, breathing growing heavier when he hands pushed up your skirt, flipping it over your ass fully and his palm stroked along a cheek, then down the other, petting at the globes of your ass until you whined his name, a plea for more. He simply hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, pulling them slowly down your legs — watching raptly at your glaringly evident need that manifested in silky strings that stuck to the gusset until they broke, the fabric laid in a small heap where it fell around your ankles. Your bared pussy was swollen to his trained eye, so needy and wanting and dripping. His clever and deft fingers slipped against your slit, rubbing until they parted for him to roll your clit against the pad of his middle finger.
Though he knew that was not what you desired. You were holding a breath, letting it out when his hand left you and you heard the sound of him undoing his pants, a telltale clink of the belt and you’d hoped he didn’t notice the way your pussy dripped a little more just from the sound of him taking his cock out. He pressed his tip to your entrance, bulbous and fat and leaky where it smeared along your pussy, gripping one of your ass cheeks tightly as if to help spread you for his thick cock. Your chest stuttered when he pressed forward a little at a time, he watched the petals of your pussy open and suck him in with every inch until you whimpered pitifully, ass backing up in urgency for him to move. It wasn’t until he was sheathed all the way in, balls tightly snug against your clit and a warning hand pressed down on your lower spine. You heard him groan, low and steady, and then he was snapping his hips. Your nails scrambled against the desk, trying somehow to ground yourself from his overwhelming thrusts, whining loudly at the sensation of his cock pushing and pulling at your insides, the cling of your cunt nearly wrecking Ratio himself.
He wasn’t letting up however, even as you in your position raised onto your tippy toes and your eyes rolled back into your head, he fucked you thoroughly, not minding the wetness smacking between your bodies that splattered onto his lower belly. His fat balls swung and hit your clit, but he in his knowledge hunched over you with a nip to your shoulder blade at the same time that his hand worked underneath your body to find your clit and to roughly rub at it until you were nearly kicking your feet and wildly moaning his name. It’s then he heard the break, the way you were shattering and sobbing as tears pooled under your face where you cried onto the desk. You were a mess, arching your ass up while he fucked you to tears, and he opted to wrap his arm around your chest and pulled you up — to where you could only look up at Ratio through your teary eyes,
“That’s right darling, I’m here. You can take it.”
You came with a warbled gasp as your eyes glazed over, unfocused but still trying to look up at your lover who was enthralled by your beautiful vulnerability. His thrusts became stuttered, your ass rippling and bouncing off his sharp hips until he was in you to the hilt, cock lurching to flood you with his spend. He wasn’t about to allow you to collapse, his bicep flexing as he kept you held against his chest and you sniffled and hiccupped while he pressed a few reassuring kisses to the side of your face. He held you from behind until your crying settled to little sobs, and after Ratio pulled out much to your chagrin — the wet plopping of your releases falling to the floor.
He didn’t even wince, just hands on your waist to set you atop the desk and in your mutual nakedness he held you to his sweaty skin, kissing along your dewy brow.
“Do you feel better? Or shall we take a bath and perhaps, talk a little?” he suggested with a soft smile. You nodded, hands wandering up and down his back.
“I would like that very much…and to…talk. Thank you Veritas.” you said in a gentle, lovesick reply, and was met with a fond kiss to your lips.
“As you wish, anything to make you feel a little less alone.”
He carried you to the tub, and suddenly you hardly remembered why your week had left you so hurt, not when you were reminded so gently of the love he was always ready to provide you.
Mydei
The baths were always a good way to relax and unwind, met there by your beloved Mydei who was hard to miss. His broad, rippling body lounged against the side of the bath, arms spread out on either side of him and his long lashes resting against his cheekbones as he exhaled in relaxation. All he needed was one thing, or rather one person, you.
He knew you were going to meet him for a bath, but even for a prince and a warrior, Mydei found himself growing impatient for your presence. He did not want to go out looking for you just yet, lest you were already on the way. But just when he was about to get out of the water, you had finally appeared.
However he was taken aback almost immediately with your disposition. Your usually bright eyes were clouded over, clutching your towel around your body as you shuffled to the side of the bath. You did not even greet Mydei which was a strange occurrence, the man used to you kissing him and snuggling up to his side whenever you took a bath with him. So when you dropped your towel and sat across from him in the baths instead of beside him, he was now more than sure you were upset about something.
You heard the water slosh gently, looking up to see your vision obscured by sheer muscles and tattoos of red as Mydei made his way to you, his hand coming up from out of the water to cup your cheek. It was then he caught the stray tear that left your lashline, wiping at it with his thumb. You squeezed your eyes shut and drew your knees up, even as your much bigger lover curled himself around your figure and quietly kissed your shoulder.
“You can depend on me.” he said quietly, after another kiss had followed the first. You sniffled, looking over at him with red rimmed eyes, and Mydei's heart ached at such a sight, at the one he loves so deeply sad in this moment.
“I know Mydei, I just….it wasn't the best day.” you sniffle, finally leaning closer to him and allowing his large hands to pull at your body. He kissed at your cheeks as he pulled you onto his lap to straddle his narrow hips, while your arms wound around his neck and you pressed your face into the pinky blonde of his locks that smelled of luxurious and comforting oils. Your body started to react from just his nearness, you always do pliant in his sturdy hold, naked figure rubbed up against his as he gently worked at your hips in the warm water. You didn’t want to admit that you were growing needy, but your lover was already a step ahead of you,
“Allow me to take care of you, if anything, to get your mind off of things.” he said like a promise, wide palms splayed on your hips moving to your waist and hoisting you closer in his lap. Your tits wobbled, nipples pert and achy, and he kissed them while your head fell back with a sigh. For such a fierce fighter, Mydei’s kisses and his love for you was so gentle and thorough, focused on kissing and sucking at your chest instead of paying attention to his hard cock standing talk between your bodies. It was pressed against your bellybutton as you writhed and wiggled in his lap, sending more waves of heavy need coursing through you down to your toes.
“I just want to feel you, Mydei.” you said with a rasp, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth as he helped you raise yourself up higher, the grasp of his cock in your delicate fingers to settle against your pussy pulling a low groan from the Kremnoan prince, waiting patiently for you to work yourself down onto his thick shaft. You shivered as your hips swirled to take more of him, a high pitched whimper in your throat as he kneads the globes of your ass you finally set fully down on his cock. The stretch, and the warm water had you weak and jelly- limbed, taking a breath with your breasts tightly pressed against his chest.
He looked at you, a long glance while his hands encircled your waist and he began to bounce you in his dick, crying out loudly enough to ensure anyone too close that the heir was taking thorough care of his lover. You felt weightless despite the heavy and intense pressure in your lower belly, coiling within you as he fucked you on his cock and you could only hold onto his shoulders as water splashed outside of the bath. You shakily reached between your bodies to touch your clit, but Mydei opted to go from moving you up and down to grind you against him — his sharp pelvis rocking against your swollen, needy clit while his fat shaft felt like it was knocking the wind out of your lungs. It was overwhelming, to the point of the tears you had been crying turning to tears of complete pleasure, your thighs trembled when your pussy tightened up around him and as your tears fell down your face salty and uninhibited, he kissed at each one he effortlessly continued to slam you down onto him again and again. You could only wail and sob his name as he fucked you, clawing down his back until the hefty throb of him filling you up with a low gravelly breath of your name alerted you of his orgasm that hit at the same time as yours. You fluttered around him wildly while he throbbed and twitched, your belly warm and your heart lighter.
Even as you let your cries turn to soft sniffles, Mydei held you carefully with comforting strokes down your spine until you peeked up at him for a wet kiss and a familiar smile that thrilled him.
“Do you feel better?” he asked, pushing your damp hair from your face. You nodded but didn’t leave his lap, tracing his red marks with a finger.
“You’re good at making me feel better, Mydei. Thank you.” you murmured, an I love you following suit as he kissed you in return. Though the affectionate words made the prince blush despite the fact he had just finished pleasuring you — he was always grateful that he was the one to share these things with you, good and bad.
Thinking about how Sunday would love tucking his head into your neck.
It made him feel safe and secure. Plus, it was a great spot to give small pecks and kisses when he was feeling particularly mischievous. It was his safe place.
However, there was the issue of his wings.
His beautiful wings were just too excitable for your liking. Sunday was a sensitive man, prone to getting overwhelmed by the slightest bit of emotion, including love.
It wasn't his fault! You were just too you! How was Sunday ever supposed to act when you let him so freely near such a vulnerable part of you? How you let him rain love upon you?
His wings would inevitably begin to flutter every. single. time. And every single time the feathers would brush against your neck and make you release a giggle or two. And god was it embarrassing for the Halovian. How could he, the previous head of the Oak family, be unable to control his own wings!
Yet, some selfish part of him relished in your laughter every time he wings began to flutter along your neck, tickling your senses and causing you to throw your head back in joy.
you're splayed out on atsumu, back pressed to his chest, fully naked with your backside grinding against his thick bulge. he keeps pressing slow kisses to your shoulder, murmuring right against your skin. "fuck, look at ya, all spread out for us like this. so fuckin' pretty when ya moan like that. ya feel how hard my cock is against your ass? keep rubbin' on it, baby."
osamu is down between your legs, two fingers already pumping in and out of your dripping hole while his tongue laps messily at your clit.
he's loud about it, slurping every drop of your juices, adding a third finger without warning and stretching you open wider. "shit, she's so wet, 'tsumu. keep talkin' to her, she's clenching hard around my fingers. taste so fuckin' sweet, can't get enough."
atsumu chuckles low, one hand sliding up to cup your breast while his lips stay busy on your neck. "hear that, baby? osamu's makin' such a mess down there. ya like bein' our little toy, huh? keep those legs open for him. gonna have ya squirting all over his face before we even unzip."
osamu groans into your cunt, sucking your clit between his lips as his three fingers thrust deeper, curling just right while his free hand grips your thigh to keep you spread. "so fuckin' tight around my fingers. ya gonna cum for me like a good girl? soak my tongue, pretty. let 'tsumu feel ya shake on top of him."
atsumu's hips roll up against your ass, his free hand sliding down to spread your folds wider for osamu. "that's it, grind on my dick while he eats ya out. such a messy little slut for us. keep moanin' like that and we'll both be fuckin' ya stupid once we're done playin' with this pretty pussy."
Rooftop dates, impromptu late night visits, lighthearted banter, using him as a personal heater, stolen seconds inbetween personas, certain hours of the day being more precious together, frozen moments captured in polaroid, bodega runs, a windowsill always left open, constant showing off for your attention, physical touch as love language, memorizing first-aid, overexposure to tall heights, mutual geeking out, corner store flowers, teaching attempts at skating, knowing the sound of his taps by heart, buying Spider-Man merch, skin pressed against skin, metaphorically and literally being on top of the world.
Song Vibe: Footsteps On The Roof by The Shangri-Las.
★ : a/n :: ignore the typos, comments, thoughts and reblogs are appreciated! i got a request for this :") but i lost the ask. anyway hi!! how is everyone
♡ dbf!max who cannot, cannot, stand your perfume. it's cloying. sticks to his clothes when he sits across from you at dinner with your family. and he swears it's unpleasant. swears he goes home and sheds his clothes because it makes him dizzy—but his head certainty spins later that night, rutting into the sheets on his stomach, face buried in the fabric of his t-shirt.
♡ dbf!max who calls you 'kid'. 'kiddo'. slips it into normal language like it's not making your spine lazy and soft. "cmere, kiddo." "come look at this, kiddo." "don't do that, kiddo." it's to keep the distance, he rationalizes. to make the boundaries clear. to ensure they're never crossed. but he can't help himself from imagining your manicured hand wrapped around his cock, calling him 'daddy' into his ear.
♡ dbf!max who makes his distaste for your boyfriend very, very clear. "he's not good enough for you," he'll whisper in the kitchen, standing close enough to feel you tense. "no one is good enough for you." no one except him, that is. because he knows how good he'd treat you. how you'd want for nothing. so he waits. waits for the day you'll let him take care of you, turn you soft and pliable. you know you want it. so take it.
♡ dbf!max who fantasizes about you... in front of you. you're talking about something or another, you always are, but he's watching the shape of your lips forming the words, watching your smile spread when you realize how intently he's staring. you couldn't know, could you? couldn't know he's imagining noise—your noise, your sounds—muffled by the pressure of his palm pushing your head into the pillow.
♡ dbf!max who somehow becomes responsible for you. you need to borrow something? "ask max." you need to go somewhere? "ask max if he'll take you." you need money, or clothes, or a place to sleep? "ask max, i'm sure he can help you." and he'll complain, sure. say "she's an adult, she can handle herself." but he'll never admit how much he likes being needed by you, being wanted by you. it's a drug. a blessing. (or a curse).
♡ dbf!max who swears he doesn't smoke. it's unhealthy, a dirty habit. but he can't help himself from one, or two, or the whole pack a day after he sees you. because you are infuriating. testing his restraint, pushing his buttons, making him regret his inability to spank you stupid and pink. he'll do it someday, he swears he will. and you'll thank him for it.
♡ dbf!max who shows you exactly what you've been missing when you show up on his doorstep in the pouring rain, sniffling calamities of "i thought he loved me, god i'm so stupid—" "can i come in, i just need to talk to someone about it—" (and it's just a coincidence he's sent all the staff away for the night, schatje. just a coincidence the guest room is being renovated. just a coincidence your clothes are soaked, here, you can wear some of his. just a coincidence he has you right where he wants you. gotcha.)
♡
note: i just wrote this at work sue me... thank you all for sticking with me while i come in and out of writing!! ive missed you all & im working on something new which will (hopefully) be out soon. love u all forever and ever mwah!!
☆ warnings: soft dom!max, unprotected p in v, a lot of praise, choking, reader is a very good girl, light kink negotiation, hints of dumbification, hints of size kink, mention of porn ⋆ inspo: (x)(x)(x)
⋆ ‧ ⋅ ☾ ‧ ⋆ ⋅ ☽ ⋆ ‧ ⋅
you watch him whilst curled up on your bed, pretending to scroll on your phone.
your attention keeps drifting back to how his shoulders fill his out shirt. how he carries himself with that sense of calmness. not lazy, not careless. just calm.
he comes to sit beside you. the mattress dips. you shift closer without thinking. he notices. he slides his around you, pulling you in until you fit against his side. his hand rests warm and heavy against your shoulder, thumb moving slowly. it's a simple touch, it makes your thoughts feel heavy.
“you’re thinking too loud.” he murmurs.
you smile faintly. “it's about earlier.”
“why are so shy about it?” he asks, softly.
you go quiet again. earlier, he came across your porn history. you were mortified. his pretty girl has been looking up porn where the girl gets choked, held close and handled properly. your face feels red, too embarrassed to make eye contact with max. his thumb keeps stroking your shoulder.
eventually, you glance at him.
“you want to talk about it?” he asks.
you hesitate. he waits.
that’s the thing about max. he never makes you feel bad, or embarrassed. he never rushes you into vulnerability. he just makes space for it.
“i didn’t plan to show you, or talk to you about it. i wasn’t trying to hint or anything...” you're rambling.
“i know, you would have just spoken to me if so. you don’t play games like that.” he says calmly.
the certainty in his voice makes your chest tighten. your legs press against each other, too.
“but,” he continues, “you were watching it for a reason.”
you nod slowly. your fingers curl into his shirt.
“i like the idea of being held like that. not hurt. just controlled. like i don’t have to think.” you admit.
his thumb pauses. he's not surprised, he's attentive.
“you wanna let go.” he says.
“yea, i do.”
“you trust me for that?”
your breath hitches. “i do, max.”
he turns his body fully toward yours. one hand slides from your arm to your waist. it's firm and steady. he looks at you carefully. protective.
“if we do this, we do it slow. you stay present with me the whole time.” he says quietly.
“i will.”
“you don’t push yourself to please me.”
“i won’t.”
“and you tell me if anything feels wrong.”
“yes.”
his gaze softens. proud and possessive. “good girl.”
his praise settles into your core. your hips shifting closer to him without even meaning to. he notices. his hand tightens slightly at your waist.
“you like that.” he murmurs.
you nod, eyes shy.
“i like the reassurance.” you mumble quietly.
he lifts your chin with two fingers, tilting your face up.
“i'm right here. with you.” he says.
he guides you gently into his lap. no rush. he's letting you settle with your weight fully against him. your legs bracket his thighs. he feels solid and strong. one arm wraps around your torso. for a long moment, he just stays.
then his other hand lifts.
it settles at your throat. not gripping, not squeezing. just resting there. the contact feels warm. intentional. your breath turns shallow. you take some deep breaths to slow it down again.
“that’s it,” he murmurs near your ear. “nice and easy.”
fuck.
the warmth of his palm spreads from around your neck to the rest of your body. the weight of his hand makes you feel contained, focused. everything outside has gone quiet. his fingers spread wide. his thumb rests beneath your jaw. he’s cradling your throat.
“tell me what you feel.”
“warm. safe.” you whisper.
his thumb strokes gently beneath your jaw. his mouth brushes your temple for a soft, grounding kiss.
“good girl.” he murmurs softly.
the praise makes the heat in your core become unbearable. you feel smaller in his big arms. not diminished, just held. he keeps you there for some time. just feeling his heavy hand wrapped around your throat. the steady pressure anchors you. his other arm tightens around your waist, pulling you back more firmly against him. his body feels protective and warm. he's positioning you exactly where he wants you. where you belong.
“you trust me.” it’s not a question.
“yes, max.”
“and you let me lead.”
“yes, maxie.”
“fuck.”
the cute nickname lands heavily. it goes straight to his cock. his hand at your throat tightens just enough to change the pressure. just enough to make your focus narrow further. make you feel all floaty. it shows, because max notices.
"there you are. that’s my girl.” he mumbles.
your body responds instinctively. you're melting back into him. your hips are shifting on his lap to grind his covered cock. he feels it and chuckles low in his chest.
“so sensitive. you always are.” he's observing.
max starts undressing both of you. keeping his hand around your throat, he uses the other to unbutton his pants and free his cock from his boxers. he lifts you up just enough to push your comfy dress up and push your underwear to the side. his hand never leaves your throat. you cling to him through it, fingers gripping onto his chest. you're clutching onto his shirt. you feel him closer now. his cock leaking and pressed against your core. his presence is overwhelming in the best fucking way. he tilts your jaw with his thumb so you look at him, and he pushes his cock into your cunt.
fuck.
the pressure is insane. the blunt pressure of his cock opening up your cunt. the heavy pressure of his hand holding your throat. he's claiming you. the rhythm builds slowly, unhurried. each movement is deep and intentional. he's fucking up into you as his hand slowly squeezes your throat. a constant reminder of his control. you're so fucking full of him. full of his cock, full of his attention. the pressure at your throat makes everything sharper. somehow more soft, too. like your body has no choice but to give into him.
“that’s it, fuck. you're so pretty like this."
his grip firms again and your breath stutters. the heavy feeling is making everything feel hot and dizzy in your belly. soft little moans escape your throat, all broken by the weight of max's palm. they're little trembles. he hears them, and fucks up harder into you. his cock is kissing your cervix and he is leaving little kisses around your jaw. he feels so calm and steady.
your body is craving a release. he feels it and tightens his big warm hand around you again. he's holding you still as his cock keeps ruining your cunt. he's holding you still as his hand is taking away your all little thoughts.
“so good. you’re doing so fucking well for me.” he breathes.
the praise sends another wave of pleasure through your cunt. you cling to him, head tipping back slightly. your throat is arching into his hand, craving even more pressure. you're not even aware of what you're doing. you're just focusing on the heavy feeling of his cock and his hand.
he notices how leaning in for more. “good fucking girl. just like that.”
the pressure increases. it's subtle, but more than enough. everything clicks into place. every breath is feeling heavier and the warm feeling in your core keeps building. you circle your hips on his cock as he keeps mumbling the sweetest reassurance.
your eyes shut and your cunt clenches around his cock, just like how his hand has been squeezing your throat. a wave of tingles moves from your neck to your core, so deep and overwhelming in the best fucking way. you're falling apart on his cock and max lightens his grip on your throat. he holds you through it, your breath coming back in soft shaking gasps. his big hand doesn't leave your throat until your breathing finally steadies again. he's gentle.
“you did so fucking well. such a good girl. still with me?"
you nod, burying your head in his neck. his hands slides from your throat to your hair, fingers stroking slow as he starts to chase his own high. he's fucking you hard, using your sensitive cunt. you're letting out little whiny moans as he keeps talking. you're too fucked to respond. his cock is railing you as he keeps reminding you how safe you are, how appreciated you are. his voice is low and steady as he finally spills his cum inside you. a deep moan escapes his own throat. fuck, you're both dazed out.
he hugs you against his chest, both arms wrapped around you. it's comforting, familiar. you don’t move and neither does he. he keeps you close, letting the moment stretch until your body stops trembling. your thoughts come back in soft fragments. his thumb traces slow lines against your side.
“you did really well. i’m so proud of you.” he praises gently.
