ꨄ︎ 𝐜𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞 ! [ twenty - one. she / her / hers. ] currently writing for genshin impact , blue lock , tokyo revengers , and attack on titan ! eren’s lover. neuvillette’s one and only. rin itoshi’s baby. draken’s girl.
⚠︎ : this blog is strictly 18+ only. minors dni with nsfw content ! ageless + blank blogs will be blocked.
༊*·˚ : 𝗿𝘂𝗹𝗲𝘀 | 𝘁𝗮𝗴 𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗲𝘅 | 𝗺𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁
𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐓 𝐎𝐔𝐓 !
➳ RECENT WORK : forbidden lust — capitano x reader
➳ CURRENT WIP : nothing right now !
➳ CURRENTLY LISTENING TO : white mustang by lana del rey
Idk I have so little patience for willfully ignorant people. You know the entire plot of Fruit Love Island or whatever the fuck but can't take an hour outta your day to look up why everything is falling apart around you? Embarrassing
“where are you going?” you almost don’t hear the question with how focused you are on getting your earring inside the damn hole—ugh. frustrated, you inhale sharply before glancing towards the man sitting on your bed through your vanity mirror. “I already said, a work dinner.”
“okay but where?”
hanma was annoying, he was persistent—but he wasn’t a partner. he wasn’t a lover, a boyfriend—whatever you’d call a man who wants to be in a committed relationship with you. it just wasn’t hanma, and you were okay with it!
you two were fuckbuddies who hung out more than either of you want to admit, you consoled each other with sex—doggy, against the wall, mating press, and sometimes when you were feeling generous you’d sit on the bed between his muscular thighs and play with his dick until he came on your face. before him, you would always hesitate to let a man eat your pussy or be face to face with it—hanma got rid of whatever shame you felt by making you grind your swollen clit against his nose.
you two were freaky sure, but outside of sex you knew not to ask too many questions about his personal life and so did he. so why was he persistent on knowing where you were going?
shuji’s eyes trail over the sight of your bare back, the dress you were wearing was…tempting. yeah, right it was just tempting! obviously it didn’t bother him that you were wearing such a revealing dress for a night out with your co-workers and he couldn’t come.
“none of your business, since did you get so curious?” and he didn’t know whether it was your attitude or your pretty lips saying it, or perhaps the way your manicured nails reached for the high heels or how your boobs were threatening to spill out of your dress—but he could feel something burning in the pit of his stomach.
jealousy.
people will think you don’t have anyone in your life, people won’t know that as soon as you come back to your place he’s going to ravish you, he was going to dig his fingers into your skin and leave bruises, he was going to make you squirt on his dick and have your thighs tremble around his head.
“it’s just that i’m gonna miss you,”
“i’m only gonna be gone for a few hours.” you say with a deadpan as you grab your purse.
“you don’t need a ride?” he sits up straight on your bed and his golden eyes follow your figure as you retreat to the bathroom to check your makeup again.
“nu-uh, a co-worker is gonna pick me up on her way.”
you don’t hear him creeping up behind you, screw him and his line of work. you are startled when you see his reflection in the mirror behind you, large hands squeezing your sides and his eyes shamelessly stare at your bare back and ass, the way the dress accentuates it is driving him crazy and you cannot deny that you were enjoying seeing him like this, so close to losing it.
“what?”
“it’s the dress that I got you,” he points out, his hand caressing your bare back, a finger tracing your spine and when you arch away from him, his grip on your hip tightens and he brings you back roughly against his bulge.
“well, I like your taste in dresses,” you mumble, trying your best to hide how hot and bothered you were by his behavior. whatever it was painted on his face, whatever emotion he was displaying—you liked it.
“mhm, so do I.” a large hand smacks your ass cheek, and his eyes lock with yours through the mirror when you gasp loudly at the spank.
oh no.
oh no no no—you can’t.
“stop,” your hand grips his wrist. “stop it, I have to go.”
“I won’t take long.” his lips find your bare nape and you gasp again.
“no! you liar, I can’t— you’ll ruin my makeup!” you whine when his hand finds your neck and he squeezes it gently, fingers feeling your quickening pulse.
“I just wanna taste you,” his lips then fine your ear and he kisses you there as his other hand starts to make it its way under your dress.
he moves your panties to the side, and he laughs against your ear at how drenched you are. the hand around your neck keeps you in place, forces you to stare at him in the mirror and his expression as he finds your clit and teases it over its hood. his slender fingers then part your pussy lips with much ease and you can feel the tip of his middle and ring finger teasing your entrance.
“I have to go,” you whine out weakly and shuji hums, delivering a quick kiss to your hot cheek.
“soon,”
his fingers fuck you within an inch of your life, the force he uses has you jerking up with each thrust and your mouth falls open everytime the palm of his hand brushes against your clit. you were so fucking pretty, so pliable and all his—all his to fuck and finger like this, all his to ruin.
“oh my-oh my god,” you moan out loud, the hand that was on the sink holding onto his wrist. “oh fuck! shuji—!” he holds you as you cum all over his fingers, your hips jerking and voice going all high pitched as he finger fucks you through your orgasm. it’s a sight to see, your half lidded eyes, the fucked out look on your face and most importantly the cum that was coating his fingers.
shuji pulls out his fingers and brings them up to his lips, lewdly sucking and tasting the remnants of your orgasm before giving you a kiss to your forehead.
your own best audience ! . MYDEIMOS | KINKTOBER 2025 .
your boyfriend can't stand you talking down on yourself , so what better way to make you see what he sees than to screw you silly in front of a mirror ?
TAGS . dom mydei , fem-bodied reader , modern au , mirror sex , body worship , praise , mentions of self-deprecating thoughts ( reader not liking their tummy / weight ) , reader wears a dress & skirt ( separately ) , fingering , passionate mydeimos , petnames ( baby ) , reverse girl , finger sucking ! , unprotected sex ( put a jacket on kids ) , not proofread yet .
WORDCOUNT . 2.2k words .
ANASTASIA . my first time writing for mydeimos . . now all my mydei kisser mutuals need to fear me ! ! . . . ☾
“are you sure that’s what you want?” mydei murmurs from where he leans back on the wall, tattooed arms folded across his chest, “it looks good on you.”
you stand hesitantly in the middle of the changing rooms, showcasing the little summer dress you’d picked out to try on. it hugs your body, coming down mid-thigh in a pleated strap. mydei’s amber eyes drink in the sight of you with a mildly smug expression.
“does it?” you ask, a frown on your face as you return your gaze to your reflection in the mirror. your hands - always so much softer than mydei’s hardworking ones - brush over the fabric, following along the curve of your own body and lasting a few seconds around your tummy.
despite his initial reluctance to come clothes shopping with you, mydei straightens up at the almost un-noticeable gesture. a soft snuff escapes his nose.
“what are you thinking?” he’s already interrogating you, reading into every action like it’s a textbook for studying. his painted nails - the ones you painted recently - drum against his biceps. you smile sheepishly.
“well.. does it look okay around my tummy? like does it hide it well?” the innocence in your voice is unmistaken and overall the questions were half-hearted and barely audible above the bustle of the store outside of the changing rooms.
mydei’s whole demeanour seems to shift; his eyes are a little darker, his jaw clenched… but he says nothing, holds his tongue on the matter as he gives a loose shrug.
“it looks good on you,” he repeats with a slightly sharp tone - why won’t you listen to him? “i’ll buy it, c’mon.”
there’s no room for argument when mydei pushes off the wall, gesturing for you to return behind a curtained stall and change back into your own clothes. you try to hide the pout on your lips, sending one last glance at your reflection before disappearing into the stall.
mydei buys the dress, makes short but polite conversation with the cashier about how this style of dress isn’t as popular around this time of year. “i guess so, but they make it work,” he uttered to the woman, his eyes darting down to your stance beside him. realising you were being spoken about, you give the cashier a nod and smile. you’d been so out of it, how hadn’t you noticed you were zoned out?
when you return home with a few extra shopping bags than you intended to have - mydei just can’t let you try things on and not buy them, after all, - you slip off your shoes and hurriedly take them to the bedroom. after dropping the car keys on the hook, mydei shortly follows with much larger steps.
“i won’t have room for clothes soon..” you joke lightly when he steps into the bedroom. you’re hanging up that dress from earlier in your closet and honestly, you’re right. mydei spoils you to no ends, not taking no for an answer when you’re doubting something. the man huffs out, humming from where he watches you.
ever since you spoke about your body like that - like you had something to be ashamed of… he’d been on edge. a different man. the concept that you could ever be ashamed of yourself, of showing what he loved so much? it hit a nerve in him. his words had all came out shorter than usual, quicker to agree to clothes that you hadn’t even tried on yet.
he couldn’t bear to hear you say something else about your body.
slowly he saunters over to the chair in your bedroom and your eyes follow him, watching as he grabs the back of it and drags it over in front of the floor length mirror you’d leaned against the bedroom wall. mydei sits himself upon it, much bigger than the chair should probably hold, his muscles flexing under the compression shirt he’d worn today - a half-assed outfit since he’d been to the gym prior to shopping with you.
amber eyes find you again where you’ve halted your movements, hands halfway between slipping a coat onto a hanger and putting it down all together. one brow quirks up as if he’s amused by the sight of you frozen in place. he doesn’t mean to snap even if he does but he was irritated… beyond irritated. amidst the silence mydei pats his thigh with his hand, many golden rings glinting in the light of the sun coming through the bedroom window.
you understand in an instance what he wants but with your current mindset, should you? mydei works out almost every day but what if you’re too heavy? embarrassedly you walk over in an act of sheer obedience that doesn’t slip past mydei’s observant gaze. the coat lays abandoned on the end of your shared bed, proof that clothes really were just a material thing in this household. he brought them because he adored you.. but in the end you’d drop them all for him in an instant.
just as you’re about to settle on his lap, standing before him almost timidly, mydei’s larger hands come up to rest on your waist. fingertips disappear under your top, brushing against the warm skin of your hips. it’s a brief touch before he turns you around, guiding you back onto his lap until your back hits his muscular chest.
now seated on spread thighs, mydei’s hands squeezing at your hips, you can feel a bulge pressing insistently against your ass. his breath fans against your ear, a low hum rumbling his chest, “why can’t you see?”
your lips part to question your boyfriend’s sudden question, to find out what the hell he’s on about but his hands trail up your body. they splay over the expanse of your tummy before coming up to massage your breasts through that flimsy top of yours. a whimper falls out instead of words and mydei chuckles, watching as you arch into his touch.
it’s only a few seconds before his hands leave your chest, leaving this lingering empty feeling in their wake to rather grab at your thighs, spreading your legs lewdly. only then do you realise the predicament you were placed in, making eye contact with your reflect before you. slowly your eyes trail down to the way your skirt has flipped up, the damp patch on your panties growing increasingly more obvious.
“why can’t you see what i see?” this time his question holds more value, thick fingers pulling aside the sheer lace panties to rub the pad of his thumb over your clit. you whine. mydei continues, “even after all this time, you can’t see it too?”
one finger slips into your cunt, followed closely by a second. mydei doesn’t let up, doesn’t stop at the sticky arousal coating his digits or the way your head falls back on his shoulders with every breathless plea, “please- aah- what are you on about?”
did you truly not see what he did? he gave you the benefit of the doubt, assumed today was just an off day where the intrusive thoughts left your lips before you had time to think - did you truly think thoughts like that all the time? he curls his fingers upwards, massages the spongey spot deep within your cunt; a spot that you could never reach alone, always needing mydei’s long fingers to thoroughly please you.
mydei rocks his hips up, grinding his hardening bulge against the curve of your ass with the help of your hips rolling to meet his fingers. he tries to conceal the groans by pressing chaste kisses to the skin of your shoulder, trailing them up to beneath your ear to feel your pulse jump but it’s all futile.
impatience has never been a fear of his. mydei has always walked with an air of patience, determination, resolve. things he valued greatly, holding his head high with pride when he has you perched on his arm. but right now? right now everything mydei held dear was coming crumbling down. his fingers slip from your sopping heat with a pop, accompanied by the sweetest drawl of a whine from your lips.
you’re almost utterly fucked out, just from his fingers. your body trembles in his lap, your chest rising and falling in heaving breaths when he didn’t let you finish on his fingers alone - no.. he needed you to truly see what he saw.
his hands work in tandem to pull his rigid length out of his boxers, springing free against your sensitive cunt. you’re forced to watch, lips parted when you take the sight of him guiding his cock into your heat. the lewd sight of every inch of mydei’s length disappearing inside you, his large hands spreading across the span of your thighs and hips to hold you in place for a few seconds.
he’s trying to hold on to what resolve he has, he really is.
after a few minutes of your pussy gripping onto him like a vice, massaging his length over and over again with your own impatience, mydei finally moves. he rocks his hips up once again, fucks his cock into you over and over again until your head is falling back on his shoulder. you grip at his wrists and arms, clawing at his skin with nails mydei has paid for whenever you want them doing.. but that’s simply not good enough for mydei.
in the midst of not being able to bounce properly in this position, with how desperate mydei’s thrusts upwards are, one of his hands leaves your hip to grab your jaw. your boyfriend forces you to look to the mirror once more, the vulgar sight of him pounding into you with a craving that needs to be satiated. obscene squelches and the sound of skin slapping against skin fill the room, landing on ears that are warm to the touch out of sheer embarrassment.
“don’t you see? how much i would worship the ground you walk on just to hear your voice,” he breathes, his thumb running over your bottom lip. you let out a cry, chasing after the digit just to take it between your lips so sweetly. mydei groans before continuing, “look how good you take me, baby.. you always take it so fuckin’ good..”
your moans are muffled by his thumb caught between your lips, tongue circling it in an attempt to keep yourself grounded. mydei keeps hold of you, keeps you against him even when your body falls limp - all the while he makes sure your eyes never leave that reflection, no matter how blurry your sight becomes from overwhelming pleasure.
you really are a sight to behold, bouncing meagrely in an attempt to keep up your boyfriend’s insistent fucking. he dips his head into the crook of your neck once again and you’re forced to watch as he nips and sucks marks against your skin, amber eyes occasionally finding yours in the reflection just to make sure you’re watching.
he can feel you growing tighter, sucking him in like you never want to let him go and he grunts, thick brows knitting together out of concentration. he’ll make you see just how beautiful you are when you finish all over his cock by his demand.
“i love you so fucking much, every inch of you, every part of you..” mydei mutters into your neck, his spare hand palming at your bouncing tits through the fabric of your top. your nipples pebble beneath his palm, poking out in the heated air of your shared bedroom. his hair brushes against your cheek, soft from the scented shampoo you’d scrub his locks with whenever he joined you in the shower.
his cock pulses, twitches with a need to finish inside the one he really does but first, first he needs you to finish. mydei huffs out a breath against your skin, biting down before licking the sore skin with his tongue. he finally draws his thumb from your lips, rubbing the wet digit over your swollen bundle of nerves all the while your moans finally echo in the room once again.
you cry out his name over and over again, a mantra akin to a prayer when you become the one worshipping every miniscule action he does. your pussy clamps down on his invading length, juices spilling out to coat his thighs and dampen his joggers as you fall over the edge and mydei holds you through it all.
god, he holds you through it all. he keeps you close to his chest even as you try to keen, body arching and shaking beneath his hands. you can barely keep eye contact with him in the mirror and yet he appears pleased, finally following you when he hilts to the brim inside your cunt and cums too. he shoots rope after rope of seed deep in your throbbing cunt, your trembling body always accepting what he gives you.
when you come down, breathless and fucked out, mydei presses a kiss to your clammy cheek. there’s a faint smile on your face and slowly, your boyfriend smiles too. he stays hilted inside your sensitive heat, unwilling to let you go so soon.
“i’d start for wars for you,” he murmurs into your ear, leaving a kiss under your ear, “don’t ever think like that about yourself again, you hear me?”
nsfw, mdni, afab!reader, rough sex, p in v, unprotected, slight asphyxiation warning, based off the 'wrestling' texts mydei sends trailblazer after 3.7
"i thought you could take it."
your fingers grip the bedsheets tighter, bunching the fabric together as you feel mydei adjust his position to lean over your back. his hand encompassing yours before giving them a comforting squeeze.
well, as comforting as possible considering he was splitting your guts in half.
"f-fuck," you quiver around his thick member, walls convulsing at the tight fit.
"what happened to that cockiness earlier? not so confident now, are we?" you hate how amused he sounds, how composed he is while his muscular body hovers over yours, his other hand running down your spine, leaving a trail of fire that causes you to arch further into the mattress.
"s-shut up!"
"i'm not even all the way in yet, sweetheart."
his hand trails all the way down to your hips, then he abruptly tugs you closer toward him, forcing all of his length in one thrust as your ass hits his pelvis. your screams are barely muffled by the pillow in your arms, he's just so big, so thick and heavy, it feels like he's spearing your insides.
just what did you get yourself into?
gently, without moving his hips, mydei lowers himself closer to you, his chest pinning you down as his forearm holds up his weight. you feel his hot breath fan the shell of your ear.
"doing so good for me, for your king," he praises, his hand sneaking to your chest. "for that, you deserve a reward."
his fingers tug at your nipple, and you keen into him, chest lifting off the mattress, allowing him to engulf the soft flesh. paired with a roll of his hips, a cry of his name slips from your lips.
"you like that? you like how good that feels? you're clenching around me so tight, don't worry sweet thing, i'm not going anywhere, not until you admit you cheated during that wrestling match."
your arms hug the pillow tighter. "maybe y-you just can't- can't admit to bei- nnh, being a s-sore loser."
he stills for a second before a deep chuckle rumbles through his chest, and the sound sends lightning bolts straight to your core.
without warning, you're being pulled upright.
one arm wraps around your shoulder whilst the other snakes around your waist, effectively sitting you up onto your knees, all the while his member stays snug inside you.
then, with a slow drag, he lifts you up and up and up, until it's he leaves just the tip inside before slamming you back down roughly. with his strength, it was almost too easy to control you like this, and your wails are muffled by a large hand that goes to cover your mouth.
the pleasure, how good he stuffed you, titans, you enjoy this way more than you thought was possible.
every vein of his dick, his curvature, his girth, you could feel every part as you're shaking against him, forced to take everything he gives as mydei moves you up and down. the way his abs flexed against your back, how your drool was beginning to smear all over your face because of his hand, the grunts he'd make right into your ear- it was all too much.
and you savoured every moment of it.
"you need some discipline, the nerve to call your king a sore loser. i'll mould this perfect pussy to my dick so no one else can fuck you as well as i do," he moans, feeling your spend coat his shaft and thighs. "you can try, but i'll have you running back to me every time."
your walls clench around him.
"you like that, don't you?"
you nod, hands gripping onto his wrists for dear life as he spears into you again and again, blunt tip poking your cervix.
"cum for me."
after a few more thrusts, the coil in your gut snaps, and you come undone with a wail, convulsing against him as your walls hug his member even tighter. the pleasure is enough for mydei to reach his high too, stuffing you full with his cock as he pulls you as close as humanly possible to his lap, letting his seed fill you up right where you've been begging for it to.
the foreign warmth, the fullness, it has you sighing with pleasure, his hand finally retreating from your mouth to let you breathe. the first breath of air sweet in your lungs as you came down from the high.
despite how he plugs you, his cum drips out of your hole, down the side of your thighs and his balls.
after a few more moments of blissful silence, mydei lifts you off his cock and you whimper at the emptiness, pussy clenching around nothing. gently, he lays you down on the bed, one hand behind your head, and the other guiding the back of your knees.
the mattress feels so soft against your sweating back, and the ache that runs up your thighs already tells you that you won't be able to walk tomorrow, so...
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.
Today is the 4th year anniversary of the second character book release! This gave us new info for valhalla and the black dragons, as well as these arts!
