May 8
Phainon fall asleep and then chimera come to lie down around him like cat bathe in the sun
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Phainon fall asleep and then chimera come to lie down around him like cat bathe in the sun
he who bears the world must burn (speedpaint)
🏐 "𝑷𝑯𝑨𝑰𝑵𝑶𝑵 / 𝑲𝑯𝑨𝑺𝑳𝑨𝑵𝑨," ◦ ₊ㅤ ﹙ nsfw breeding you like a rabbit ꗃ .. smut mdni ꒰ ୨୧ ꒱ mina says reupload from toruzip ⁀ ˳ ⟡
Oh, how filthy he got in bed.
From the golden boy of Okhema city, the savior of Amphoreus, smiling and waving to citizens all around, to one of the meanest men in bed.
His hips never stop moving when he’s finally popped his dick inside your tight, wet cunt. He’s not shy about it either, whining and moaning loudly against the wet sounds of his hips slapping against your plump ass. His hands tightly holding onto your hips, making sure you can’t run away.
“F-fuckkkk.. g-gonna breed y-you.. g’nna make you all plump and round with my babies,” he’d hiccup and whisper against your sweat slicked skin. While you would whine and try to pry him off, telling him it had already been an hour since you two had begun. His balls would still be heavy with cum, slapping against your skin with a lewd ‘plap! plap! plap!’. His breathless chuckles would fill the air as his hips wouldn’t stop— in fact, he would start thrusting deeper and more purposefully.
The bed would shake, as you swore you could hear the faint cracks of the wooden bed frame giving way. There was no true night in Amphoreus, so you could still hear the faint sounds of city life going on just past the walls of your little home. “..p-phainon! Y-you’re gonna break the bed again..!” You’d cry and moan, nails digging into his back and leaving red hot marks.
Phainon’s hips wouldn’t stop, oh no.
He’d only get filthier, more lewd and needy. Whimpering into the crook of your neck, “p-please… just l-let me.. ngh— shit.. g’nna c-cum again…” he’d groan, and before you could even complain to him— his hips would be erratically thrusting into your sloppy pussy. Previous white sticky seed already oozing out around his thrusting cock, as he would shudder and cum inside you. Hot thick ropes of his seed spilling deep inside you, no doubt in wanting to fertilise your womb.
“Iloveyouiloveyouiloveyou” he’d quickly mutter, his hips coming to a slow roll. Stirring up the sticky mess inside you. His pelvis grinding against your overstimulated clit.
“…do you wanna go again, baby—”
“Phainon, the black tide will be more merciful than me if you ask another stupid question.” You huffed to him quickly, limbs sore and aching all over.
“…is that a yes, then?”
© 𝑵𝑬𝑶𝑺𝑺𝑬𝑵𝑪𝑬 ★ do not copy, translate, or republish my work, do not use for ai training.
☆. TELLING HIM THAT HE’S “SMALL” !
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.
And whispers—
“Still think it’s small?”
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now playing: 𝖉𝖚𝖒𝖇 𝖇𝖚𝖓𝖓𝖞, 𝖘𝖑𝖞 𝖉𝖔𝖌. ☾
❝ i'm your biggest fan, i'll follow you until you love me. ❞ — lady gaga, 'paparazzi'
★ featuring ; puppy!phainon x afab!bunny!reader
★ genre ; nsfw! (mdni) — hybrid!au, title is a play on the zootopia quote wtv, samoyed!phainon, horny!phainon, pervert!phainon, dwarf rabbit!yume, phainon is a humper, possessive phaichan, lwk yandere!phainon, missionary, doggy style, knotting, biting so slight mention of blood, mating, breeding kink, creampie, dryhumping, dacryphilia, dubcon/noncon, size difference, dom!phainon, sub!reader, reader is shy but also kinda bratty, brat taming (?), multiple rounds, maine coon!mydei mentioned, scent kink, reader lwk stalks phainon LOL, porn with lots of plot, oral sex, reader has a crush on mydei lwk, mydei likes teasing phainon and pissing him off, edging, phainon calls reader bunny, phainon has too much stamina, both reader and phainon are kinda obsessed with mydei and mention him even when hes not even there LMFAOOO
★ lyric count ; 6102
★ composer's note ; its finally here!! kinda wanna make this a series… thats why theres so much worldbuilding… if this does well maybe i will!!
★ listen on ao3, check the album playlist, or back to main playlist!
★ you are at part one! go to ; two
dividers by cafekitsune! photos from pinterest & honkai: star rail; edited by me!
The samoyed next door is strangely obsessed with you… You can only wonder what will happen when he finally gets his hands on you.
The samoyed that lives next door is… strange.
As a house bunny, you’ve only run into him during the rare occasion your owner does yard work or decides you need the extra sun, but, whenever he sees you, he practically vibrates from excitement.
The first time he caught your scent outside, he immediately started dragging his owner towards your house. Your owner, Idrila, had been tending to the array of white and red roses decorating the border of THEIR front yard. THEY had set up a blanket for you on the grass, along with a basket full of your favorite snacks. You were lying on your stomach, book open in front of you. As your fingers reached over to bring a strawberry to your mouth, you were startled by a loud bark.
“Ahhh—Is that a bunny!! You’re so cute!”
The voice made you drop the strawberry and stained the page you were reading a soft pink. You frowned, brows furrowed as you opened your mouth to give the culprit a piece of your mind. When you lifted your head up and were confronted by a massive dog leaning over the fence, you curled into yourself instead, ears flattened against your head.
“Phainon!” yelled someone behind him (you assume it’s his owner), “Get back here!”
You scrutinized the dog in front of you. Based on his ears, you could tell this “Phainon” was a samoyed. Although, he seemed way too big to be one. His size was more akin to the wolf hybrids you met at the shelter, but, looking at his nonstop wagging tail, he was definitely too friendly to be a wolf.
(Was he some kind of genetically-mutated samoyed?)
Though, you will admit, he wasn’t unappealing to look at. You’d even say he’s pretty handsome. Phainon’s white hair framed his face nicely. It looked soft to touch and you could imagine yourself petting it. His skin was clear (how unfair) and he had an incredibly well built body, but his eyes were what entranced you the most. They are so vibrantly blue and even glittered, like the ocean shimmering under the rays of the sun. You could see yourself getting lost in them.
(Speaking of which… has he blinked once since you met his eyes?)
“Idrila, I apologize for Phainon’s behavior,” his owner lets out a sigh, “He must still be excited from—Oh? Who’s this?”
As you began to get uncomfortable under the samoyed’s intense gaze, his owner had just given you the perfect excuse to break eye contact. You turned to look at the person who was now standing next to Phainon. His owner was very handsome too, with THEIR tan-olive skin and braided white hair. You noted that THEIR yellow eyes contrasted nicely next to Phainon's blue ones.
Idrila paused on THEIR gardening to greet the pair. THEY walked up to the fence while dusting off any dirt that had gathered on THEIR sundress.
“Good afternoon, Nanook!” Idrila smiled and gestured to you with THEIR hand, “This is [Name]. A precious little dwarf rabbit I’ve been taking care of for about a week now. It seems like your puppy has taken a liking to her.”
(“Puppy?” That… ‘wolf’ is not a “puppy.”)
“Hi!! I’m Phainon! I’m a samoyed hybrid and—Wow—You smell really good!!” the aforementioned “puppy” said with a wide grin and a tilt of his head.
That confirmed your suspicions about his breed, but did he have to comment on your scent? It weirded you out and you weren’t going to respond—until you noticed that Idrila was looking at you expectantly.
“Hello…” you muttered with shy reluctance, finally meeting his gaze once again. That simple word seemed to spark something in him and you watched as hearts formed in his blue eyes.
“Ahhh—Even your voice is cute!!” Phainon said as he leaned further over the fence.
Alarmed at the sudden movement, Nanook reached over, grabbed the back of the blue collar the dog was wearing, and dragged him back towards THEM. Phainon released a yelp, but never once did he look away from you. A snarl appeared on Nanook’s face as THEY sneered at Phainon.
“Maybe too much of a liking…” THEY commented under THEIR breath, but you heard it with your enhanced hearing, “It was nice to meet you, but we should get going now.”
Moving THEIR grip to Phainon’s wrist, Nanook dragged him towards the house next door. A pout formed on the samoyed face as he got scolded by his owner about respecting boundaries and learning to think before speaking. You let out a soft giggle at the sight and Phainon visibly melted at the sound. His reaction made you raise an eyebrow, but you tried not to pay too much mind to it. You shook out the left over tension from the encounter, and turned back to your book as Idrila returned to THEIR gardening.
Aside from that, you like to study Phainon from the window of your bedroom. Your room is on the second floor of Idrila’s home, giving you an apt view of the Nanook’s backyard. Phainon is out there more often than not. Either roughhousing another hybrid that’s over at his house at the time or training with his owner. At times it can be amusing but other moments make you genuinely concerned for the hybrid’s well-being.
(One time you saw him climb on top of a poor blonde maine coon and start humping him… luckily his owner shut it down and scolded him before it could escalate.)
Unfortunately, your “Phainon-Watching” came to an abrupt end only 2 weeks after it started. One Friday evening you had been lounging on your window seat, enjoying the breeze coming through the slightly ajar window. You almost fell asleep—that is—until Phainon slammed his backyard door open.
“Nanook! I learned something new while training with Mydei today! Let me show you!!”
You watched as his owner followed the samoyed outside. Phainon showed him a move he learned at “training” that day and Nanook watched with THEIR hands clasped behind THEIR back, nodding in acknowledgement once Phainon finished.
(You could only guess what his… “training” actually is… What he performed looked more like martial arts than dog tricks… Maybe he’s training to be a guard dog…)
Phainon visibly brightened at the small gesture like the man had just spoken him a million praises. His tail wagged in joy and you could tell he was going to do another trick before a particularly harsh breeze passed by. It had you shivering and reaching over for a blanket, but you stopped once Phainon froze and began to sniff the air like a madman. He followed the scent and eventually turned upward towards your window.
The samoyed squinted, seemingly to make out your shape, and once he finally did, he perked up, like he did when he first caught your scent.
“[Name]!!” he exclaimed as he rushed over the fence dividing your homes, “Were you watching me?! Did you like what I did?! I learned it, so I can protect you! Hey, [Name]—”
Your blood went cold and you were frozen in place as Phainon started waving too excitedly and attempted to climb the fence to get to you. While you rushed to close your window and the curtains, you caught out of the corner of your eye how Nanook grabbed Phainon by the collar and dragged him back inside.
(Yep, there’s no way you’re gonna watch the samoyed ever again.)
“[Name], this is Mydei,” Idrila introduces, “He’s Yaoshi’s maine coon hybrid and I’d like it if you two became friends.”
A week following your incident with Phainon, your owner has decided that you need more friends.
Out of fear and embarrassment of running into Phainon outside, you’ve locked yourself in Idrila’s house. Every time THEY would offer to take you outside with THEM, you would kindly deny and state that you’d rather spend the time napping inside.
It seems that THEY’VE reached the limit of listening to your pathetic excuses and brought the outside to you instead.
“She is so adorable!” Mydei’s owner remarks as THEY clasp THEIR hands together and press them against THEIR cheek, “I hope you two get along while Idrila and I catch up over some tea.”
Your ears shoot up in alert at the idea of being alone with a predator hybrid. THEY seem to notice your hesitancy and quickly add on, “Don’t worry! Mydei is trained well and won’t act like some feral dog. He won’t do anything you dislike!”
The words do little to calm your nerves, but Idrila and Yaoshi are already moving towards the living room, leaving you and Mydei on your own devices. You shift awkwardly as you ponder on what to do. Mydei’s presence doesn’t help. He stands against the wall with his arms crossed, long tail occasionally thumping against the floor.
As you fidget with your fingers, you attempt to sneak glances at the cat, who makes no move to… “get along with you.” Mydei has his eyes closed and his breathing is even, like he’s sleeping. His blonde hair fades to a soft red when it reaches his shoulders. You internally squeal when you notice that he has a part of it braided and resting on his right shoulder—and are those tattoos peaking out from under his black shirt? You have to hold yourself back from causing a scene.
Like with Phainon, you think he’s beautiful with his solid build (one you note is bigger than Phainon’s) and big arms. The way he has his arms crossed accentuates his chest and creates more tension on his already tight shirt. You have to force yourself to stop staring and squeeze your eyes shut. His appearance reminds you of another maine coon—
(Wait a minute…)
Upon closer inspection, you realize that this is the same hybrid you saw Phainon… hump all those weeks ago. You feel yourself flush at the revelation and shake your head to rid yourself of the memory that appeared in your head.
When you open your eyes again, you’re met with Mydei’s golden eyes staring back at you. He has an eyebrow raised and his head is tilted in question. Your sudden movement must have aroused him from his meditation.
(You’re sure you look as red as his tattoos right now.)
In an attempt to quell the awkward air, you let out an admittedly depressing giggle and scratch the back of your neck, “Um—Do you want to go to the sunroom? With me..?”
You watch as Mydei lets out a huff and a small smile makes home on his face. To your surprise, he agrees and asks you to lead the way. Your ears perk up at his agreement and you bounce up and down in excitement. You grab his hand and start dragging him down the hallway, surprising him at the sudden skin to skin contact.
When you make it down the hall, you push a door open and bring Mydei inside with you. The sunroom is your favorite place in Idrila’s home. It’s the perfect place to relax and get some sun, while still staying in the house.
It’s where you’ve been hiding from Phainon for most of the week.
However, the samoyed isn’t here right now and instead this handsome maine coon is. You excitedly tell Mydei about what you like doing here: about the books you read, the snacks Idrila makes you, and how this is the perfect place to take a nap.
You’re still holding on to his hand when you finally bring Mydei to the biggest window in the room. In front of it, a blanket is placed on the ground. A book sits open on top of it with a bookmark marking the page you last left on. There’s a small table on the edge of the blanket, placed near the window, that holds a glass of lemonade, the condensation still visible on the outside of the glass even though the ice has melted.
You’re about to drag the maine coon to sit with you when it hits you that you’ve been dragging Mydei around this whole time and making him listen to your nonsensical ramblings. All while holding his hand! You abruptly pull your hand away from his and grip the end of your skirt instead.
You miss the way Mydei frowns at the loss of contact.
“I’m so sorry! I just spent that whole time rambling to you and you haven’t even been able to say a single thing back—” you start, hot from embarrassment, but Mydei cuts you off.
“It’s alright,” he says with a soft smile, “I enjoyed listening to your “ramblings.” It was quite cute.”
You cover your face with your hands and know you are blushing hard under them, “Ah—Thank you..?”
Taking note of your current state, Mydei takes the initiative and invites himself to sit on your blanket. Well—It’s not really sitting. It’s more like lounging. He drapes himself on the floor, with one knee bent and the other extended out. His weight rests on one arm, elbow bent as he rests his chin on his hand, while the other pats the area next to him.
“Join me, won’t you?”
Mydei’s voice is borderline seductive and you find yourself entranced. Your body moves on its own and you awkwardly lay down next to him. First, you start on your back, but eventually turn to face him. Your ears flatten on your head and you open your mouth to say something. The words are lost on your tongue when Mydei puts his hand on your waist and pulls you flush against his body. Legs tangle with each other as you hold your breath, scared to breathe on him. You let out an exhale and involuntarily relax when Mydei brings the same hand up to your head, scratching the junction at the base of your ears. He lets out a chuckle that rumbles through his body when he sees how your tail twitches at his touch.
You cuddle closer to Mydei, trying to chase his touch. Your hands rest on his chest and grip onto his shirt when he rubs a particularly sensitive spot. It has you flushing once again and before you can apologise, Mydei brings his head down to your neck. You feel how he rubs his face against your scent glands, occasionally leaving nibbles on your skin.
(Is he… Is he scenting you?!)
Overwhelmed by his maneuvers, in your haze, you return his affection and begin to scent his own neck. All you can smell is Mydei and you find yourself getting droopy. The combination of the warm rays of the sun through the window and Mydei’s strong scent is just what you need to get sleepy.
You fall asleep with Mydei’s warm body pressed against yours.
“Why do you smell like that?”
“Smell like what?” Mydei pauses in his stretching to look at the white-haired hybrid.
Later on in the day, long after Mydei’s morning visit with you, he meets up with Phainon to train together. It’s something that the pair have been doing for a while, brawling as a healthy way of expelling pent up energy and satisfying their more animalistic instincts. This is the first meetup in a few weeks. Mydei had to separate himself from Phainon after a particular incident. However, meeting with you had put him in a good mood that had him reaching out to the samoyed to start their weekly meetings once again.
Phainon has a confused look on his pretty face, with his brows furrowed together and it's even completed with a pout. He gets closer to Mydei, leaning into his neck to get a better whiff. The maine coon isn’t fazed, already used to his antics, and patiently waits as Phainon sniffs all over his scent glands.
“Like [Name].”
Phainon abruptly pulls back, startling Mydei with his sudden seriousness, “Why do you smell like [Name]?”
The look on Phainon’s face is one Mydei can only identify as terrifying. The cute pout is erased from his face and the light disappears from his eyes. Gone is the kind and affectionate samoyed and what’s left is a feral wolf challenging someone that has entered his territory.
Mydei composes himself, and the startled look is gone as quickly as it came.
“[Name]?” the blonde pretends to question, “Ah, [Name], you mean the bunny that lives next door to you.”
“Yeah. [Name].” Phainon says again, harsher this time, “Why do you smell like her?”
He says it like it disgusts him, like it pains him to even say the words. Mydei watches as the hybrid in front of him tightens and loosens the fists resting at his sides.
The maine coon tilts his head in a mocking manner, “I was over at her house earlier today. Yaoshi wanted to meet with Idrila and took me along. Something about [Name] needing to meet more hybrids, so I spent some time with her.”
Mydei remains vague on purpose. Some part of him wants to egg him and see how the samoyed will react.
How far he’ll spiral.
He can practically see the cogs turning in Phainon’s head as he tries to make something from Mydei’s words. He gave him essentially nothing after all. Anything else that he conjures up in his mind is from his own imagination.
Mydei studies Phainon’s face with vigor. The samoyed is staring out into space, and Mydei watches as his look of neutrality begins to morph into anger. Phainon’s eyebrows twitch and his nose scrunches. His mouth turns into a snarl, baring his teeth. Mydei can see the waves of anger exuding from his body.
“Did you—” Phainon scoffs, “Did you mate with her?”
Mydei says nothing, letting the silence linger in the air and allowing a few more seconds of Phainon’s imagination to run rampant.
“Maybe I did,” he finally breaks the silence, “I don’t see how that concerns you.”
Now it’s Phainon’s turn to be silent.
“She had no scent of a mate and no markings,” Mydei continues, “Would it truly be that concerning if I was the one to take her?”
Something snaps in Phainon and he stomps closer to the cat. Mydei thinks the samoyed is going to fight him, but all the samoyed does is place a shaking palm on the maine coon’s shoulder. His grip is tight, painfully so, but Mydei keeps his eyes on Phainon’s.
Phainon stares back into Mydei’s, eyes dark in anger. Now concerned, Mydei opens his mouth to say something to calm the dog down, but Phainon beats him to it.
A flip is switched and, like nothing has even happened in the past few moments, the smile is returned to Phainon’s face. The sparkle returns to his eyes and he joyfully says, “Of course not!”
He closes his eyes and tilts his head like an unassuming puppy, “You’re right! She wasn’t claimed. How lucky you are if you actually managed to woo her over. Haha. You should watch your back, Mydeimos. Someone might jump at her before you are able to complete the bond.”
Mydei’s eyes widen at the thinly veiled threat. Phainon called his bluff. He doesn’t like the chill that goes down his spine.
Fuck.
Apparently, the samoyed that lives next door is sick.
You would beg to differ. With a body like that, surely you wouldn’t get sick to the point your neighbor has to watch over you.
According to Idrila, Nanook had called THEM with concern in THEIR voice. Nanook wasn’t the type of person to worry like this, so Idrila was immediately alarmed at THEIR intonation. THEY had told THEM that Phainon hadn’t been eating the last few days and locked himself in his room. The samoyed had refused to come out, telling Nanook that he wasn’t feeling well, coughing and groaning every other word.
To you, it sounds like bullshit.
But the ever kind Idrila agreed to look over the dog while Nanook attended an important meeting THEY couldn’t afford to miss.
That brings you too now, as Idrila picks up a spare key from under a barely-hanging-onto-life plant on Nanook’s front porch.
(Clearly, THEY don’t concern themselves with plant life like Idrila does.)
You’re holding a basket full of at home remedies. Idrila had quickly cooked up some soup and packed some over-the-counter medicine. All you could do was scoff as THEY did so.
Idrila finally unlocks the door and you’re greeted by silence. You step in and are almost knocked out. You’ve never been in Phainon’s house before, but you can smell that it’s his.
His scent is everywhere. In the air, on the walls. Every single nook and cranny.
(Is this how Idrila’s house smelled when Mydei came over? Is that why he was.. “meditating”?)
You shake your head. Now’s not the time to think about Mydei. You turn back to Idrila, who had taken the basket in your stupor and was now heating soup up on the stove.
THEY continue to mix the concoction and, without taking THEIR eyes off the pot, requests something of you.
“Go check on, Phainon!” THEY hum out the samoyed’s name, “Maybe seeing another hybrid will make him feel better!”
(Bullshit.)
However, you reluctantly nod, and turn to move further into his house. You’d have to find Phainon’s room first if you wanted to “check on him.” You let your nose be your guide and follow the scent to where it’s the strongest.
It guides you to a light blue door and you stand awkwardly in front of it. You don’t want to open it. A part of you is scared. This is the first time you’d be seeing the samoyed since he caught you spying on him from your window. On the other hand, you’re annoyed. This most definitely is some bullshit Phainon pulled to get to you. Surely it has to be.
You’ll never find the true reason unless you knock on the door, so you suck it up and finally do it. You place 3 firm taps on the door.
“Phainon? Are you okay? Nanook said you were sick, so Idrila and I came to check on you.”
There’s no response from the other side of the door.
“Hello..?” you question. This is the right door. You trust your nose enough to at least discern that.
The annoyance bubbles over at the continued lack of response and you finally break, “Hey! If you don’t open this door right now I’ll—”
The door slams open and Phainon jumps out. You let out a shriek as Phainon shoves you into the wall of the hallway. Your back hits the wall with a loud thud and you let out a yelp that only partially escapes your mouth as Phainon now has his hand covering the bottom half of your face.
All the commotion must have alerted Idrila downstairs as THEY question, “Is everything alright up there?”
“Everythings alright! Just startled each other, haha!” Phainon responds for the two of you while you struggle against his hold.
That seems to satisfy THEIR worries, “Alright… Nanook just texted me asking me to pick up your medicine, Phainon. Will you two be alright while I head out for a moment?”
“Of course!” Phainon says, voice too cheery for someone who’s supposed to be ill. You watch as his tail begins to wag.
(No, Idrila! Don’t leave me here with him!)
You attempt to yell against his hand, but your screams are muffled. It's no luck as you listen to Idrila leave through the front door. Now alone and sick of his behavior, you bite Phainon’s hand and kick him in the groin. Now, it’s his turn to yelp and his hands move away from your body and to his dick instead.
“You—You jerk! What the hell is wrong with you?!” You exclaim as you watch Phainon attempt to grip onto the wall and balance himself.
(Good. You managed to do some damage to him.)
“[N—Name],” he groans out, voice riddled with pain, “I just want to talk to you!”
You scoff, “Well you didn’t have to pretend to be sick to do it.”
“I did!” Phainon springs up, and it startles you, “It was the only way I could get you into my house.”
Your eyes widen in a mixture of shock and fear and your ears point out in alert.
The pain that Phainon was experiencing before seemingly evaporated and his hands returned to you. They come up to cup your face and bring it closer to his. Your hands grasp his wrists and you can feel his breath tingle on your lips.
You think he’s about to kiss you when he suddenly pauses, sniffing the air. He transfers his grip on your face onto one hand and grips your chin as he forcefully pulls your head to the side. Phainon buries his face in your neck and you can feel him sniff all over it.
“Mydeimos.”
His voice has dropped to a lower, growly pitch. It’s guttural, like a wolf.
“W—What? What does Mydei have to do with this?!” your voice comes out awkwardly due to his grip on your face.
Phainon lets out an actual growl and you feel it against you, “Don’t say his name.”
Suddenly, you feel something wet slide across your scent glands.
(Is—Is he licking you?!)
Your shoulders scrunch up at the sensation on your sensitive glands. It's so warm and wet, but for some reason it has you melting in his embrace. Phainon supports you by wrapping his free arm around your waist and pressing your body against his. He continues his relentless attack on your neck.
“When I’m done with you,” he starts, breathlessly, “You’ll smell like me. Not him.”
“And it’ll stick.”
Before you can question what he means, Phainon releases his grip on your face and picks you up bridal style. You grip onto his shoulders as he carries you into his room, closing the door behind him with his foot. He gently places you on his bed. The blue sheets are soft against you, but you can’t study his room any further because Phainon begins to strip himself in front of you.
You watch, jawslacked, as Phainon starts by taking off his top. Now that his shirt is off, you can truly see his body. His abs are defined and chest is pronounced.
(You’re sure the only person that rivals him is Mydei, but Phainon wouldn’t like you thinking that.)
He doesn’t give you enough time to appreciate his chest as he hastily moves onto his bottoms. Phainon pulls off his pants and underwear in one combined motion and, if your mouth could fall open even further, it has. The size of his dick is almost frightening. Its size is intimidating just like the rest of his body. It curves slightly upward and the tip is flushed a light pink. There is a prominent knot where his dick meets the base. A vein runs up on the side of his shaft from the base to the tip. Against your wishes, you feel yourself getting wet in between your legs and your mouth begins to water.
But as he climbs on top of you, the realization hits you all at once.
Phainon is trying to mate with you.
You place your hands on his chest and attempt to push him away, but he’s too strong and your push does nothing to deter his movements.
“W—Wait! Phainon, I’m not so sure—!”
The samoyed cuts you off by dropping himself on top of you. You let out a wheeze as the air is knocked out of you and you barely have enough time to catch your breath before Phainon is licking and kissing your ears. Your face is pressed into his chest as he continues his assault.
“Why?” Phainon questions, voice dark once again, “Did Mydei mate with you already?”
Now, you’re confused.
(What’s this about Mydei and you mating?!)
“I—I don’t know—”
“Bullshit!” he cuts you off, “I smelled you all over him the other day. You can’t lie to me.”
“W—What?! We were just cuddling—”
Phainon lets out a manic laugh, “Haha—! Then how about we do some cuddling, too?”
He pulls away from you to grab onto the hem of your shirt and pull it over your head. However, he doesn’t have the same amount of patience with your bra and grips it with both hands at the center before ripping it apart. You let out a gasp at his actions and yell profanities at him. Phainon pays no mind as he moves down to your skirt, hands gripping onto your panties and pulling them down along with the skirt.
Now you’re bare in front of him like he is with you.
You can’t do anything but grip the sheets next to you as Phainon brings himself down and his mouth immediately meets your wet pussy. His tongue licks circles into your clit and it has you arching into his mouth. The sounds of your moaning and his mouth on your cunt fill the room. You squirm at the overwhelming pleasure and Phainon places a hand on your stomach to press you back down onto the bed. The added pressure doesn’t help you at all and tears begin to form in the corners of your eyes. Phainon seems to notice and brings his other hand to your cunt and presses it into you. It slides right in with the help of all your slick that has now built up at his ministrations.
His finger is longer than yours and immediately hits places you couldn’t reach yourself. He prods around until he finds a spot that has you wailing. The tears spill from your eyes as your legs begin to shake at the pleasure. Before you know it, Phainon adds another finger and presses his tongue harder against your clit. You feel yourself right on the edge and you clench around Phainon, but he abruptly pulls away, taking his fingers with him.
You whine at the loss of feeling full and are about to complain when Phainon says, “I’m sorry, bunny, but the only time you’re gonna come is on my cock as I fuck you full of my cum.”
Your face grows impossibly red at his words and you sink further into the haze that is Phainon. He climbs back on top of you in between your legs and lines himself up with your entrance. You hold your breath as you feel Phainon push himself into you. The stretch is intense, so much more than his fingers.
“Too—Too much, Phai!” you squeal at how full you are.
Phainon lets out a chuckle and presses himself back into your scent glands, “I’m only half-way, bunny.”
You let out a moan as Phainon continues to push in despite your protest. When your cunt finally meets his knot, you feel impossibly full. So full to the point that you can feel him up in your throat. Phainon lets out a loud groan when you squeeze down on him and he has to bite the sheets next to your head to stop himself from cumming right then and there.
“C—Careful. If you keep doing that I’ll cum sooner than I want to.”
His words have you whining and Phainon takes that as a sign to start moving. He places his hands under your knees and presses them against the bed as he begins to thrust into your pussy. It makes a loud squelch every time his knot nudges your cunt. You can feel him deep in your stomach, your womb.
He’s hitting every pleasurable spot inside of you and you can’t help but clench around him. You feel yourself on the edge of your orgasm once again and this time Phainon doesn’t pull himself out to stop your high.
You cum with a loud whine, clenching hard around Phainon’s cock. It has him letting out a moan and his thrusts grow erratic. Soon he’s joining you in your high as he comes inside you, but he doesn’t push in his knot and the cum leaks back out of your cunt when he slides out.
You're both breathing heavily, breaths mingling with each other as you attempt to get air back into your lungs.
But Phainon doesn’t give you a moment of respite and he’s gripping your waist and flipping you over onto your stomach.
“Phai—Wait—Still sensitive—!”
Your words are knocked out of you when Phainon pushes his still hard cock back inside your cunt from behind. It slides back in easily with all the cum that's inside of you already. He holds you up by your hips, leaving your head on the sheets, and grinds into you.
“F—Fuck! How are you even tighter like this—” Phainon groans as he presses his eyes shut, relishing the pleasure of your sensitive pussy pulsing around him.
However, a scowl returns to his face when he remembers how this all started. Without taking his hands off your hips, he leads down near your ears. You feel his body heat against your back and he whispers into your ears as they twitch.
“Did Mydei fuck you like this? Was his cock big enough to hit all these spots inside of you? Did he have you leaking all over the sheets like I am?”
All you can do is respond with a moan and Phainon bites down on an ear as he drags your body up and down his cock by your hips. The position has him hitting even deeper than before and you feel him hit your womb every time he thrusts back in. It’s intense, and when Phainon lets go of your ear, you turn your head to the side to be able to breathe. Tears are streaming down your face again, and you feel Phainon grow harder inside of you. He brings mouth to your cheeks and licks up your tears before pressing his face into your scent glands.
“Y—You’re even cute when you cry. Sh—Shit—!” he exclaims as you clench around him, close once again.
“If you’re close again, I’m gonna have to fuck you harder if I want to cum with you, bunny,” Phainon breathes out, “Hang on.”
You grip the sheets as he brings himself upright again and pulls out, leaving just the tip. You whine at the loss of his cock, but you mewl when he shoves himself back in by thrusting his hips and simultaneously bringing your hips to meet his. He moves faster now, chasing his own high. You attempt to crawl away from him, but his grip on your hips is unrelenting and he pulls you back onto his dick every time.
Phainon’s moans grow in volume and you know he’s close like you. He leans back once again and places his mouth over your scent glands. You think you hear him mutter an apology when he suddenly pushes his knot into your sloppy pussy, cumming inside you. At the same time, he bites down hard on your gland, creating a mating mark. When his knot slips in, it has your eyes widening at the sudden intrusion. The feeling of being so overwhelmingly stuffed as you falling apart on his cock, tail twitching erratically. You cum on his dick with a loud moan of his name and you feel pulse after pulse of his cum fill your womb and pussy.
After a few moments, his mouth lets go of your neck and he licks the blood away. Phainon presses light kisses on your scent gland.
“Now, you’re mine,” he says, still in a sex daze, “Not Mydei’s. Mine.”
“Yours,” you reply before you can stop it.
The word has Phainon perking up and his tail wags behind him. He peppers kisses all over your face and begins to grind himself against you.
(Wait—Is he getting hard again?!)
By the time Idrila returns, you’ve been fully fucked out.
Bite marks litter your body and a mixture of your slick and Phainon’s cum slides down your legs. You can’t feel your body and all you can think about is Phainon.
You’re sure the smell of sex is clear in the air even to your owner’s nose.
Phainon has finally taken a break to get you some water and your suspicions about Idrila are confirmed when Phainon returns with some soup and the aforementioned water.
He also mentions the news that Idrila has given you permission to “sleepover.”
Even with your aching body, you can stop the sigh that escapes your lips.
You’re in for a long night.
PHAINON GIVE ME A CHANCE PLEASE!!! also i wrote this in an actual daze sorry if some of it didnt make sense LOL
you are at part one! go to ; two
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