(Note: This is a self insert novel. Rover is referred to in second person, as in 'you'. Imagine yourself as the mighty Rover as you read this story. Have fun!!) de
The world slowly swims back into focus.
A gentle breeze brushes across your face, carrying the faint scent of wildflowers and something metallic-residue of remnant energy and Tacet Discords. Your head is pillowed on something warm and soft. A lap. Smooth fabric under your cheek, the subtle rise and fall of breathing.
You blink up.
A girl's face hovers above you, worry etched onto her delicate features. Strands of her long black hair ending in white feather like streaks spill forward like silk curtains, tickling your forehead. Her black eyes were gentle and deep, with light grey pupils. A tacet mark with four stars ran down the middle of her foreheads framed by her bangs. A blue beret adorns the top of her head, with a black multicolored ribbon to the right. Her face is...breathtaking. Only one word echoes in your mind.
'Beautiful...'
You couldn't help but stare at her, almost forgetting to breathe. Her dark eyes widen when your golden eyes meet hers.
"You're awake...!" Her voice is soft, almost a whisper, trembling with relief. One gloved hand instinctively presses to your chest as if to steady your heartbeat-or maybe her own. "Thank the streams... we thought the fall might have-"
"Oi, easy there, don't smother the guy already!" Another girl's brighter voice cuts in from right beside you. She's crouched close, elbows on her knees, short and rough crimson hair with blue streaks tied in a single braid, swaying as she grins down at you with unabashed curiosity. Her rogue red eyes with matching pupils, meeting yours. "He's finally conscious and the first thing he sees is your chest practically in his face, Yangyang. Real smooth."
'Yangyang...that's her name.. Wait, what?' Only now did you notice that twin shadows drapes over your face, providing shade from the powerful sunlight above. Your eyes lower to the pair of breasts that hovered right above your forehead, heaving up and down with every breath of hers. Their size: D-cup.
At the girl's words, Yangyang's cheeks instantly bloom crimson. She jerks back a fraction-but doesn't actually move her lap away from under your head. Her hand stays on your chest, fingers curling slightly into your shirt as though afraid you'll vanish again if she lets go.
"Chixia! I-I wasn't-!" she stammers, then forces herself to take a slow breath, the way she always does when she's trying to stay composed. "I am Yangyang, an outrider of the Midnight Rangers. Sir... do you remember anything? Your name? How you ended up falling from the etheric sea above?"
Her voice lowers on that last part, almost intimate, like the question is only for you. Up close like this you can see the faint mole on the edge of her right eye, the golden earring on her right ear, the way her pink lips part just slightly as she waits for your answer. Her thighs are warm beneath your neck, the thin fabric of her black skirt doing very little to hide how her body heat seeps straight through.
Chixia snorts softly, clearly enjoying Yangyang's flustered state. She turns to look at you with a cheerful smile, making her already pretty face even prettier.
"Name's Chixia, Jinzhou Patroller and ally of justice! Yangyang, me, and our companion, Baizhi, were exploring this place, the Gorges of Spirits, when we saw you falling from the sky, from the etheric sea. We rushed in to help you and when we made sure that you were fine, Baizhi said she had to report to the Huaxu Academy about the abnormal frequency fluctuations in the etheric sea during and after your landing. She'll be back soon, but... honestly?" Chixia leans in closer, close enough that you could see the faint freckles on her cheeks, voice dropping to a teasing murmur. "Yangyang here was more worried about whether you'd wake up at all. She hasn't moved from that spot since we carried you here. Wouldn't even let me take over pillow duty."
Yangyang makes a small, mortified sound in her throat.
"I was... making sure his breathing stayed steady," she mumbles, eyes flicking away-then right back to yours, unable to help herself. Her fingers on your chest flex again, almost unconsciously tracing the edge of a tear in your clothing. "You're... still hurt in places. I can feel your Forte trying to repair itself, but it's... restless. Unstable."
Her gaze drops lower for just a heartbeat-down the line of your throat, across your collarbone, to where her own hand is resting far too low on your sternum now-before she catches herself and snaps her eyes back up to meet yours. The flush on her face deepens.
"I... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare." A tiny, nervous laugh. "You just... feel different. Your resonance. It's... strong. Warm. It keeps brushing against mine and I-"
She stops, bites her lip, clearly fighting not to say more.
Chixia rolls her eyes dramatically but there's a knowing smirk tugging at her mouth.
"Yeah yeah, 'resonance compatibility' or whatever. We get it." She pokes your shoulder lightly with one finger. "So, mystery man. Feeling up to sitting yet? Or you planning to keep using Yangyang's lap as a five-star recovery spot all morning?"
Yangyang doesn't move to push you off.
If anything... her thighs shift the tiniest bit closer together, cradling your head more securely.
"Thank you for saving me, miss Yangyang, miss Chixia. I am sorry, I can't remember anything at the moment, not even my name. My head still hurts and everything feels dizzy and swirling. Miss Yangyang, I hope you don't mind if I lay down for a while". I say, as I slightly move my head to settle in more comfortably on Yangyang's lap. Then, almost unconsciously, I slowly sneak one of my hands onto the side of her thigh, brushing my hand against her warm and soft flesh covered by dark brown stockings.
Yangyang's breath catches the moment your hand makes contact.
Her thighs tense under your palm-soft, warm even through the thin stockings that hug every curve. The fabric is smooth, almost silky, and you can feel the subtle tremor that runs through her as your fingers brush higher along the outer edge, settling just where thigh meets hip.
She doesn't pull away.
Instead her gloved hand instinctively covers yours-not to stop you, but to press it there a little firmer, like she's afraid you'll take it back. Her deep dark eyes flutter half-shut, lips parting on a quiet, shaky exhale.
"I... I don't mind," she whispers, voice barely above a breath. "Please just call Yangyang. We will you, Rover, for now. And...stay as long as you need. Just... rest."
Her free hand trembles as it returns to your chest, fingers splaying wide over your heartbeat. You can feel how fast hers is racing now, syncing unevenly with yours through the thin layers of clothing.
Realization struck you about what you just did. But instead of revulsion, Yangyang shows compliance, even reciprocating. A slow heat spreads across your chest and abdomen, as your hand continues to move along the side of her fat and soft thigh.
Chixia raises an eyebrow, clearly noticing the shift. She smirks, but keeps her voice low and teasing rather than loud.
"Wow. Didn't know Yangyang offered premium recovery services. Should I leave you two alone or...?"
Yangyang's cheeks burn darker, but she doesn't answer Chixia. Her focus is entirely on you-on the way your head nestles deeper into her lap, on the slow, deliberate slide of your hand along her thigh, on the way your fingers cope a feel of her warm flesh. Her stockings whisper faintly against your skin with every tiny movement.
She bites her lower lip, trying (and failing) to keep her composure.
"Your resonance... it's brushing mine again," she murmurs, so soft only you can hear. "It feels... good. Too good. Like it's pulling at something inside me."
Her thighs shift-just enough to let your hand slip a fraction higher, beneath her skirt, the warmth between them radiating stronger now. She's not stopping you. If anything, the subtle press of her legs encourages it.
Unbeknownst to you and the girls, golden threads emerge from the tacet mark on your right hand, wrapping around Yangyang and Chixia...
Chixia snorts quietly and stands up, stretching.
"Alright, lovebirds. I'm gonna go scout the perimeter. Baizhi should be back soon anyway. Try not to... resonate too hard while I'm gone."
She winks, checks whether her pistols are still in the holsters at her waist, and saunters off, leaving the two of you in the quiet shade of the wildflowers.
Yangyang's hand on yours tightens. Her voice drops to the barest whisper.
"...You can touch more. If it helps you feel better."
Her eyes meet yours-shy, wanting, pupils blown wide.
"If you don't mind, I won't hesitate to take you up on your offer, Yangyang", I say as a small smile blooms on my face. Yangyang couldn't help but blush, losing herself in my handsome face with a chiseled jaw and glowing deep golden eyes and majestic jet black hair. I then spoke, "Massage me, my shoulders and chest ache. First, take my black jacket and white shirt off."
At the same time, both my hands kept massaging the sides of her thighs, fondling the soft flesh and sliding up and down along them, my fingers sinking into the fat flesh.
Yangyang's breath hitches as your words sink in, her black eyes-wide and shimmering with flecks of grey-locked on your face. The way your golden eyes glow, sharp jawline catching the soft light filtering through the leaves, jet-black hair tousled from the fall... it makes her cheeks burn hotter, a quiet whimper escaping before she can stop it.
She nods quickly, almost eagerly. "O-of course... anything to help you feel better, Rover."
Her gloved hands move to your black jacket first-fingers trembling just a little as she slides it off your shoulders. The fabric parts easily, revealing the white shirt beneath, already torn in places from the crash. She bites her lip, pulling your shirt up gradually, her gaze flickering on and hands grazing your hard abs and broad chest with careful, reverent touches. Each passing second exposes more skin-toned, warm, still marked with faint bruises that make her frown in concern... and something else.
When the shirt is finally pulled off, she puts it gently to the side. Her palms press flat against your bare chest almost immediately, as if drawn by instinct-feeling your heartbeat, the rise and fall of your breathing, and your hard pecs. Her own racing pulse echoes through her touch.
"You're... so warm," she murmurs, voice soft and shaky. "And strong. Your resonance... it's wrapping around mine again. Like wind meeting flame."
At the same time, your hands keep working her thighs-kneading the soft flesh through those dark brown leggings (smooth, form-fitting, hugging every curve). She shifts her hips unconsciously, pressing into your touch, a tiny gasp slipping out when your fingers glide higher along the inner edges. The heat between her legs grows noticeable now, radiating through the thin material.
She starts her "massage"-slow, tentative at first. Gloved palms slide over your wide shoulders, thumbs digging gently into the tense muscles there, working in small circles. Then down to your chest-fingers splaying wide, tracing the lines of your pecs, brushing over nipples that harden under her touch. She's breathing faster, lips parted, eyes half-lidded as she watches your reactions.
"Does... does this help?" she whispers, leaning forward just enough that her long black hair (streaked with those faint white feathers) spills over your shoulder, brushing your skin like silk. Her beret tilts slightly, the delicate ribbon from her mother swaying with the movement. Her big D-cup breasts sway with every breath, mere inches from your face.
One of her hands drifts lower-hesitant, then bolder-trailing down your abs, stopping just above the waistband of your pants. She glances up at you through her lashes, flushed and needy.
"Tell me... where else it hurts. Or... what else you need."
Her thighs squeeze around your head a fraction tighter, encouraging your hands to keep exploring-higher, firmer, wherever you want.
With a smile on my face, I took her hand and guided it downward. She leaned in, her soft breasts hovering above me, guiding her hand and pressing it on top of the massive bulge starting from my crotch to beyond mid thigh, the size of which caused Yangyang's eyes to widen in astonishment.
I speak, "This place hurts...Can you massage it? But before we proceed...take off all my clothes and yours. Since you're doing me such a favour, I must reciprocate it, mustn't I? While you massage me, I will massage you as well." I say while eyeing the soft hills hovering above my face, unable to contain my desire to see them bare, to touch them, fondle them, knead them, lick them and suck them.
Yangyang's breath stutters the moment your hand guides hers lower. Her gloved fingers brush over the thick, straining bulge in your pants-her palm freezing there as she feels just how massive it is, how it throbs hot and heavy even through the fabric. Her dark eyes go wide, pupils dilating, a soft, involuntary "Oh..." slipping past her lips.
She swallows hard, cheeks flaming, but she doesn't pull away. If anything, her fingers curl slightly, giving the faintest experimental squeeze that makes your cock jump under her touch.
"Y-Yes... of course," she whispers, voice trembling with a mix of shyness and heat. "If that's where it hurts most... I'll take care of it. I promise."
She leans in closer as you asked-her breasts, full and soft beneath the tight navy blue and black top of her outfit, hovering tantalizingly close to your face. You can feel their warmth, see the faint outline of her hardening nipples pressing against the fabric. Her long black hair with white feather streaks spills around you like a curtain, blocking out the world.
With shaky hands she starts on your remaining clothes first. She tugs your pants down slowly-careful, reverent-freeing your cock at last. It springs up, thick and veined, the head covered by foreskin. Yangyang gasps audibly, staring in open awe.
"It's... so big," she breathes, almost to herself. "Bigger than I imagined... Rover..."
She doesn't waste time after that. Her gloves come off next-slowly peeled away so her bare hands can touch you properly. Soft, warm palms touch your cock, fingers unable to wrap around your girth, falling a few inches short. She works with both hands-one stroking the base, the other gliding up to circle the head in tentative, exploratory pumps. She watches your face the whole time, biting her lip, learning what makes you twitch, what makes your hips buck.
Then she shifts to obey the rest of your command.
Rising slightly, she starts to take off her navy blue dress. Her fingers unbutton some buttons on her waist and sides, before pulling the dress up inch by inch. Her raised hands reveal the delicious armpits underneath, while the pulling dress reveals slowly her soft looking belly with the slightest bit of fat, her tantalizing navel, the swell of her pale breasts barely contained by a simple black bra. She reaches back, unhooks it with trembling fingers, and lets it slip away.
Her breasts spill free-full, perfectly rounded, pale with faint rosy tips already peaked and begging for attention. They sway gently as she moves, nipples tightening further under your hungry gaze.
Yangyang's hands move to her skirt next. She hooks her thumbs into the waistband-along with the dark brown leggings-and slides both down her hips in one slow motion. The thin black panties underneath cling to her for a moment, damp with her arousal, before she peels those away too, exposing the neat patch of dark hair above her slick, flushed folds. She's already wet-glistening, thighs trembling as she gently puts everything aside.



Now completely bare, she settles back over you-straddling your waist this time so her dripping core hovers just above your throbbing cock while her big breasts dangle temptingly close to your mouth.
Her hands return to your length-both now, stroking you firmly from base to tip in slow, twisting pulls. She moans softly at the feel of you pulsing in her grip.
"Like this...?" she asks breathlessly. "Does it feel good when I massage you here?"
At the same time she arches her back just enough to bring one breast to your lips-offering it wordlessly. The rosy nipple brushes your mouth, warm and stiff, practically begging to be taken.
Your hands are free to roam her now-cupping those heavy breasts, kneading the soft flesh, thumbs circling her big areolas and nipples before you lean up to capture one between your lips. She whimpers the instant your tongue flicks over it-her hips jerking forward so her wet slit drags along the underside of your cock, coating you in her arousal.
"R-Rover..." she gasps, voice breaking. "Your mouth... your hands... it's too much... but don't stop. Please..."
She keeps stroking you-faster now, slick sounds filling the quiet air-while grinding herself against your length, desperate for friction.
"Take what you want, Yangyang. Do what you want. Right now, all I want is you. But before you do that...you must pledge to me. Become my slave and my personal cock slut, then I'll allow you to have your way. After all, since the moment you saw me, you have wanted me, haven't you?"
Yangyang's eyes open wide at my words, her breath hitching. A dark grin spreads on my face as I continue,
"You have wanted to taste me, to ravage me, and to in turn, be ravaged by me. Say it, Yangyang, say it! Pledge to me, by kissing the tip of my cock, first with an innocent kiss, then with a wet, raunchy tongue kiss. Go on! Do it!"
Yangyang's breath comes in shallow, trembling gasps as your words sink in. Her black eyes-deep and endless, flecked with that faint shimmer of grey-lock onto yours, wide with a storm of shame, desire, and something almost like worship. Her long black hair, tipped in soft white at the ends, spills over her bare shoulders like ink, framing her flushed face as she hovers above you.
She swallows hard. Her full breasts rise and fall rapidly, rosy nipples still glistening from where your mouth teased them moments ago. Between her thighs, her slick folds throb visibly, dripping slow trails of arousal down onto the underside of your thick cock.
"I... I have," she admits in a broken whisper, voice cracking with raw need. "From the moment I saw you lying there... unconscious, powerful... I couldn't stop staring. Your resonance pulled at mine like gravity. I wanted to touch you. Taste you. Feel you claim every part of me."
Her hands tremble as they slide down your chest, nails lightly scraping your skin. She shifts lower, settling between your spread thighs so her face is level with your straining length. The massive shaft twitches under her gaze-veins pulsing, most of the head covered in foreskin but the middle part visible, flushed dark and leaking precum.
She presses your cock on her face, feeling it's hard and veiny length on her lips, nose and forehead. She took a deep breath, as your scent assaulted her lungs and brain, setting her senses and loins on fire.
Yangyang leans in slowly. First, she presses the softest, most innocent kiss to the swollen exposed tip-lips barely brushing, reverent, like she's worshipping something sacred. A tiny whimper escapes her at the contact, her tongue darting out instinctively to taste the bead of precum there.
Then... she obeys.
Her mouth opens wider. She kisses again-deeper, wetter, filthier. Her tongue laps around the foreskin covered head, before her tongue slips beneath the skin, swirling hot and eager around the fat and reddish head, lapping at the leaking slit. Before pulling her mouth off with an open gasp and showing you her pink tongue, covered in beads of precum and white-yellowish smegma. She proceeds to swirl her tongue in her mouth, savouring the taste before swallowing with a gulp, feeling the smegma stuck to her throat.
She dives back on your cock, tongue sliding down the sensitive underside in long, sloppy strokes. She moans around you, the sound vibrating straight through your cock as she sucks the tip, pulling the foreskin back with her hand, into her warm mouth, cheeks hollowing with greedy pulls. Saliva glistens on her lips, dripping down your shaft as she works her tongue in lewd, circling patterns.
'The smell of his cock....it's taste....even his smegma...so addictive..'
When she finally pulls back-with a wet pop-strings of spit connect her swollen lips to your glistening cockhead. Her black eyes are glassy, pupils blown wide with lust.
"I pledge myself to you, Rover," she breathes, voice husky and wrecked. "I am yours. Your slave... your personal cock slut. My mouth, my body, my everything-it belongs to you now. I gave it my first kiss, I will give it and you all my other firsts. I'll worship this cock every day, every night. I'll choke on it, milk it, beg for it inside me until I can't think of anything else. Use me however you want. Ravish me until I scream your name. I've wanted this... wanted you... since the second I found you."
She leans forward again, pressing one last filthy, open-mouthed kiss to the tip-tongue flicking out to tease the slit-before looking up at you through damp eye lashes.
"Please... now let me have you. Let your slut take what she's been aching for."
Her hands wrap around the base of your cock, stroking slowly while she waits-body trembling, thighs slick and spread, breasts heaving, completely surrendered.
I smirk at her words as my golden eyes glow momentarily, my soul recognizes her pledge, it resonates with hers. Her streams surrender to my golden authority, whilst humming in tune, causing a pink and blue crotch tattoo to appear below her navel and above the mound of her pussy, right above the neat patch of black hair above her glistening lips.
"Go on then, slave. You have your master's permission. Pleasure me and pleasure yourself on me. Go on, give me your first time, just as you gave my dick your first kiss", I say with glowing eyes. The pink tattoo would turn golden the moment she and I unite, marking her claimed and mine. It would heighten her arousal beyond her limits. It would also function as a protective charm to protect her against anyone else, but should she ever try betray me, that mark would kill her. The moment it turns golden, she would experience the first body shaking orgasm of her life. How did I know these things? I wonder myself. But there could only be two answers: intuition and instinct.