-22 -She/Her -Impish in nature -Fanfic Writer (Mostly X Readers) -SFW/NSFW All NSFW posts will be labeled as such. -My ask/Requests is linked below if you can’t get it on mobile!!! https://lupinsagas.tumblr.com/ask
Summary: Enjoying a moment of peace brings new emotions to the table, including ones that you never thought were possible.
Word Count: 850
Warning(s): PURE FLUFF, Prince Adam + reader being in love, slight comparison to others, being nervous and scared, being someone's first love.
A/N: He absolutely deserves some fluff. Feedback is appreciated and enjoy!
The cool breeze of the Eternian wilds does nothing to settle your nerves, despite the fact that the air smells like your favorite lavender and jasmine perfume back home. Deeply inhaling this newfound scent, a small smile fills your lips, taking in the atmosphere of a brand new world. Leaning against the fallen trunk of a once strong tree, the orange and red sunset fills the sky as if someone spilled a jar of crimson paint into the air.
Silently gasping at this beautiful sight before you, Adam Glenn smiles at your own happiness, causing the tops of his ears to get hot. Leaving Teela and the gang to have some rest at the fire pit, Adam slowly makes his way over to your private area.
“Stunning isn’t it?” He asks.
Glancing his way, you are suddenly pulled away from your trance-like state.
“The sky, I mean. Do you like it?” He adds, folding his hands in front of him.
“Yeah, it’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Eternia surely gives the sunsets out West a run for their money, that’s for sure.” You reply, gazing his way.
“I know, I couldn’t really see them in the city. There’s too much light pollution.” Adam answers, leaning next to you.
Crossing your arms in front of you, the two of you shyly share a laugh together, realizing that this is the first time you both have been alone in the past few days.
“So, how does it feel being the “mighty hero” and all that?” You ask.
Giving Adam your undivided attention, you finally have the chance to study the new leather bound and metallic breast plate with the bright, glinting gem welded inside. Feeling your cheeks grow warm at this sight of his new physique, you force yourself to look back towards the beautiful fauna.
“Hoesntly? It feels pretty great. I’m just not entirely sure what happened to my shirt. …Or my pants. Do those come back or will I have to buy a new pair everytime?” He jokes, giving you a real smile.
Squinting your nose, a large smile fills your face and a much deserved laugh escapes your lips. The delightful sounds of your shared laughter makes Adam’s chest feel just a little lighter, despite the current situation. The world is starting to slow down, just by being by your side.
“Oh my God, I don’t want to even imagine how much debt you’d be in if that was the case! I would actually go insane.” You giggle.
“Well, I guess we’ll have to cross that bridge when we get there. But, how do you feel? Being away from home?” Adam questions, turning to face you.
Nervously rubbing your hands together, you’re suddenly greeted with his strong frame before you. Sure, back home in Oklahoma, you always thought Adam was built for his age since you both are young. But here, being embodied with the power of Grayskull, the butterflies in your stomach flutter quicker.
“Um… it’s odd. I know I haven’t been here very long, but Eternia is quite beautiful. However, I really miss coffee, though. And breakfast sandwiches. But I imagine when this is all over, you'll be sending me back home.” You admit, as you glance down at your fidgeting fingers.
“What if I asked you to stay?” Adam asks, stepping closer.
Taking your shaking hands into one of his own, Adam brings you to face him with the other. Gazing into his soft brown eyes makes your breath hitch in the back of your throat. Suddenly, the butterflies in your stomach begin to sink, one by one.
‘Does he actually care for me?’
“What if I’m not good enough for you? You grew up here with your people, not me. I know we met as children, but it doesn’t feel the same. I saw how you fought on the highway with Teela, the two of you work well together. I’m just the girl you know from Earth, there’s nothing special about me, Adam.” You confess, trying your best to hold in your tears.
“That is not true, Y/N. I can’t stop thinking about you, even from the moment I met you. You mean and are everything to me. While I care for Teela, she is and always will be my friend. You are something else entirely. You are the reason I wake up in the morning, even if it means to go to a crappy job everyday. You believed in me when no one did. You helped me find the sword.” Adam declares, wiping away your fallen tears.
“Now you’re lying. I’m just… I’m scared. What if I'm not what you want?” You croak, cracking Adam’s heart.
“You are everything I want. I only think of you, in all of this craziness. It’s only you.” He declares.
Leaning his forehead against yours, Adam’s golden curls tickle your cheeks. Gently stroking your cheek, he slowly inches closer, silently waiting to see if you pull away. When you don’t, his soft lips meet yours for the first time, and he can finally kiss you without remorse.
adam whines, he's not like other guys (positive), and he needs to be kissed to cum (idea from @st4rfckerz)
MDNI 18+
"oh my g-god."
truthfully, you never knew you could actually have this sort of affect on someone.
every other guy you've ever had sex with seemed so focused on having the sexiest sex ever.
everything felt so manufactured, curated, performative. unnaturally deep, lustful groans. cheesy one liners that were fine while you were being fucked, but caused you to instantly cringe over your coffee days later when it flashed banged your memory. calling you nicknames that have clearly never slipped from their lips until their cock was in you.
thankfully, adam is none of that.
everything about him is so earnest.
that first groan he let out when his tip sunk into you was pure and from the deepest pits of him. the hazy look that instantly took over his puppy brown eyes as soon as he started moving in tentative thrusts was so genuine. the sweet, practically adorable croak in his voice when you began riding him was honest.
the best part: he didn't try to cover up the crack in his voice afterwards. he sat there, soft fingertips digging into the fat of your hips, and watched you through that same hazy look that hadn't escaped his gaze once since you two started this.
"you feel so good," he tells you yet again. you don't know how many times he's actually said those same words tonight, but each time he utters them he seems to mean them even more, if even possible.
with how blissed out he is, you don't know how he hasn't came at this point.
your head tilts and you plant a hand at the center of adam's chest. he's smooth and a little soft there. the force of your bounces on his cock trigger the tiniest ripples in the flesh of his stomach. every so often, you see him tense and there's definition in his abdomen. paired with the strained look on his face, you catch on.
"adam," you coo, your voice strained from effort.
"yeah?" he asks, voice just as strained but definitely from a different kind of effort.
"are you close?"
his eyebrows knit together as if the mere mention of an orgasm puts more strain on him. his lips part to speak, but just then you put your weight into your hand and glide your cunt up and down over the tip of adam's cock.
the groan he lets out comes from the top of his throat—tight and punctuated. his teeth press into his bottom lip and he nods.
"you can cum," you tell him, your voice soft and gentle. "i want you to cum."
you're so close now that your nose knocks against adam's. instinctively, you lean back just a bit. and instinctively, you assume, adam chases you.
"i know," he clarifies.
"kiss me," he says. then, "kiss me, please," he begs.
your lips connect, adam's fingers press harder into your flesh and he gets strength in his hips, strong enough to thrust up into you.
your weight shifts and you topple over, collapsing onto adam's chest. one of his hands rush to the back of your head, locking your lips together.
he doesn't moan when he cums.
he doesn't whine or groan. he just kisses you harder. he breathes through his nose harder, each breath fanning out against your skin. he thrusts harder, punctuating each drive of his hips until he's warming your insides through the latex barrier between you both.
he doesn't pull away until his cock stops twitching inside of you. and even then, his hips remain in their elevated position. finally, his hips sink down, he pulls away from you with a pronounced smack!, and barely a second passes before he's asking you, "can i eat you out?"
request: Could you do something where switch Adam takes control mid sex because he wants more but forgets that he’s HUGE and starts apologizing for being too rough after getting inside but reader makes him remember that she’s already used to it while telling him how much of a sweetheart he is
tags: 18+ MDNI below the cut, teasing, fingers in his mouth thursday, switch!adam, power shift, man-handling, adam kinda forgetting his strength, reassurance, unprotected rough piv (wrap it up folks!), just a short little thing i whipped up yet i still got carried away, minimal editing, actually no editing lmao
words: 629
He’d been being so good for you. Laying all spread out while you rode him for all you were worth. Your fingers were hooked in his mouth, pushing his chin up as he gripped the headboard. His pretty sounds were vibrating around your digits, and you could feel him pulse under you.
He wasn’t even inside you yet, your pretty little lips gliding up and down the length of him trapped between your body and his. It’d been at least twenty minutes, you’d been surprised at his sheer lack of protest to progress things. Once again you slid up a little higher, just a tease as you nudged his weeping head against your entrance, but again, denied him entry.
‘Don’t be mean.’ He sighed. You leaned down, starting to press wet kisses against the side of his neck.
‘Don’t know what you’re talking about.’ You hummed, one hand gripping his bicep.
‘Mmm- sure you don’t.’ He sounded clipped, strained. His hands began to wander, finding firm purchase on your hips. You already knew what was coming next. He urged your face up, lips pressing hard against yours. Quickly, he begins manoeuvring you sideways, lips never leaving yours. Then you were under him, a strong hand gripping your calf and lifting it. He barely gave you a moment to breathe before he fully pushed inside, hitting you so deep so quick you nearly felt the air get punched from your chest. You’d thought you’d be used to the feeling of it by now, every ridge sliding inside of you, the deep internal pressure making you throw your head back. His hips begin pounding like a man possessed, hands borderline bruising as he grips the fat of your hips. His head falls besides you, broken gasps like music to your ears.
It’s so much. So, so much. Tears start welling up in your eyes just from the sheer amount of him. Yet still, you could take more. Wanted so much more.
‘Sorry baby- I’m sorry, you’re doing so well, taking it so- nggh- well.’ The sting of your nails on his back did nothing but urge him on, breathless whispers of reassurance and praise spilling from his lips. The sound of your bodies was obscene, wet and loud.
‘It’s okay- oh fuck- I can take it. Please.’ You basically sob out, pressing a sloppy kiss to the side of his head. Your feet locked around his back, the angle forcing him deeper. ‘I want it baby, please, want you.’ A ragged cry escaped him as your words hit him, his thrusts getting harder, faster, yet he was losing the rhythm. He was close.
‘I’m not gonna- not gonna last. I’ll make it up to you, I promi- fuck.’
‘I know baby. Take what you need.’ Your hand gripped the silk sheet beside you, twisting it in your hold as his body blanketed yours. Then you felt it. His body shuddering, red hot to the touch. You helped him through it, holding him to you like a sloth on a tree. You feel him start to collapse, gaining back his breath. He lifts his head to look at you, eyes shining, noticing the stray tear trapped in the corner of your eyes. He reaches to wipe it away.
‘I’m sorry, I just- it’s you.’ Your cheeks burn at the words.
‘No sorry’s my sweet darling, I’m used to it. I wanted it.’ He kisses you again in response, slow and languid.
'You're too good to me.' Then he moves to your jaw, and your neck, then further and further down your body, slowly slipping out of you, before reaching what he just made such a mess of.
‘What are you doing?’ You giggle.
‘I said I’d make it up to you. I’m an honourable man.’
This came out a lot more tame that I thought it'd be.
Contains: Dubious Consent(?), werewolf transformation, oral sex, vaginal sex, knotting, creampies, mating bites, a little blood
It was easy to forget a lot of things when you’ve been here for so long. It’s easy for fleeting memories of kingdoms and magic to elude you when you’re stuck in a Mundy office building for eight hours a day. It’s easy to catch yourself daydreaming of being back in the Homelands lounging in the lush forests without a care in the world as you’re paying for your overly expensive apartment on the lower end side of Manhattan. What’s not easy to forget, however, is the fact that most of the people that made it to New York City are a bunch of assholes who can’t seem to follow the main rule: Fit in amongst the mundane.
That’s really how it all started to get where you’re at right now; Walking down the steps to the subway to catch the train on time for once, thinking of what to make for dinner and if you should stop by that little grocery store at the corner of your avenue block to pick up something else. You will, you determined, suddenly remembering that Bigby would be coming to your apartment for the evening like he does like clockwork every Friday night.
Just thinking about Bigby makes your heart flutter as you stand on the subway platform. You’ve been seeing the sheriff for a little over a year now. You’ve known him for centuries, of course, - you were one of the few dozen fables who never caused any trouble for him and made his life a whole lot easier - but you both really got to know each other when the only few items you had smuggled out of the Homelands were stolen when your apartment was broken into. Bigby, being the best cop you’ve ever seen, was quick to come knocking again with your magical tools in his big mitts. You ended up more worried about him, gasping when you saw cuts and bruises all up and down his face and arms from the fight to get your things back. You brought him in and sat him down on your toilet despite his gentle protests, shutting up when you gave him a look so cold it could shame a yeti, tended to his wounds and stitched his clothes; And the rest was history.
You wouldn’t have thought Bigby could be so soft, but he really proved you horribly wrong. More of a gentleman than any real man that didn’t walk on all fours, he treated you like you were very precious to him. It’s very touching when you get to see that side of him, the side of the sheriff that never gets to be shown because he often finds himself knocking skulls together to cut the bullshit out.
As you stepped into the subway car, you found yourself riding in peaceful silence for once, drifting deeper into your daydreams until you nearly missed your stop. Scrambling through the flooding crowd, you managed to pop out the other side and climb the steps back into the bustling city. Instead of heading straight down the avenue block towards your apartment, you ducked into the corner grocery store, greeting the kind older couple that run it and picked up a few extra things you needed for dinner tonight; A nice pair of steaks being the main thing.
It took you maybe ten minutes to finish up and trek back down the block to your apartment. You greeted your doorman despite him being asleep at the desk just like Grimble and went up your merry way on the elevator.
You made your way around the bend and juggled the grocery bag and your purse until you slotted the key in and turned the knob. Stepping in and kicking the door closed, you immediately noticed something was wrong: Your kitchen light wasn’t on. Bigby always turns the light in your kitchen on when he gets into your apartment, without fail.
“Bigby?” you call out. You tossed your keys in the bowl by the door, sat your purse down and kicked your shoes off. You walked deeper into your apartment. “Bigby, you here?”
Silence.
Bigby may not say a lot, but pure silence terrified you when it comes to him.
You checked all of the rooms in your apartment only to find that there was no sheriff in your home. Returning to your purse to retrieve your phone, you saw that Bigby hadn’t sent you any texts since his usual text in the morning wishing you a good day at work. No texts about being late, no texts about needing to cancel - which he’s never done -, no missed calls. Nothing.
Dialing his number only got you to his automatic voicemail after the continuous ringing. Trying his office thinking time may have evaded him, you got the same thing. You quickly dialed the Business Office soon after. Maybe he was helping Snow with something and he lost track of time?
But you got nothing back.
No answer from Snow, from Bufkin, Boy Blue. Not even from King Cole. They had all gone home for the day.
Something didn’t sit right in your stomach. Pure silence from The Woodlands is never good, you’ve grown to know that.
You would rather shit in your hands and clap than sit around in silence waiting for a call back.
You quickly put the grocery bag in the fridge, snatched up your purse and keys, toed your shoes back on and went right back out your door. Luckily, you live just on the other side of the block from The Woodlands and you could often cut through if Flycatcher didn’t lock the back gates of the garden.
You won’t sit by idly if something is going on, especially if it involves Bigby. You may not be a powerful witch like the ones on the thirteenth floor or some of the black market witches Bigby often drags in by the scruff of their necks, but you knew some powerful things. If something was wrong, you were going to help damn it.
You found yourself cursing the frog prince when you pulled on the wrought iron only for it to not budge. You slammed your palm against the gate, sneering when the lock reacted negatively to your strike, glowing a faint blue to protect itself from your magic.
“Who’s there?” you heard someone call out. Stepping from behind the shrubbery, the same frog prince you were just cursing appeared with the giant key ring in his hand. “Oh, Miss (L/n), hello.”
“Hi Flycatcher. You mind letting me in?”
“Sorry about that,” he flushed, opening the enchanted lock with the keys and held the door open for you, “I forget you live in the apartments right behind us.”
“It’s alright, Flycatcher, thank you.” Just as you were about to head for the back door, you paused. “Hey Flycatcher-”
“Yes, Miss (L/n)?”
“You wouldn’t have happened to have seen Bigby, would you?”
“Mr. Bigby? I saw him this morning, but then something happened and he hasn’t come out of his apartment all day. I don’t know what happened, and Miss White had to take Bufkin to Doctor Swineheart’s office. He was drinking in the rafters again and clipped his wing when he fell off one of the bookshelves.”
Something happened to Bigby? You suddenly felt sick, your heart drumming in your chest. If something happened, why weren’t you told?
“Thank you, Flycatcher,” you quickly thanked the ex-prince and hurried in through the back door.
The slamming of the back door did nothing to wake the sleeping security guard at the front desk, his hat covering his entire face and his jacket draped over his chest and stomach like a blanket and he lounged back in his chair. No use in asking Grimble, it would be like getting Bigby to give up cigarettes at this point. You instead called the elevator and took it up to the second floor.
Peering down one end of the hall, you could see that the lights in both Bigby’s small office and the much larger Business Office were both shut off for the night. You pulled out your keys as you started for Bigby’s apartment, filing through until you came across the familiar bronze key with the number 204 etched in. As the elevator closed behind you, you heard a familiar snort. Turning and looking down when you saw nobody, you were met by Colin.
“You mind pushing the down button for me?” Colin eyed the elevator’s buttons.
You did so and held the doors open for him as he trotted in.
“Is Bigby-”
“I wouldn’t go in there if I were you,” Colin cut you off seemingly knowing what you were about to ask him.
“Is he alright?”
Worry brewed in your guts like a bubbling cauldron.
“He will be in a few days.” Colin reached up with his snout and pressed the button for the ground floor. “And trust me, your magic won’t work on him. It’ll only make him more- what’s the word to use? Excited.”
You could only stare at the pig as the doors closed, confusion painted all over your face as the pig disappeared from your view and left you all alone again.
What the fuck was he talking about? You weren’t going to let a pig who made his house out of straw tell you what to do, so you started for Bigby’s apartment. You knocked first after taking a deep breath and seeing the lights were on from the crack under the door. There was no answer, but you could hear something being dragged and kicked around inside the small apartment. You knocked again, holding the key tightly with your other hand.
“Bigby? Are you in there?”
When no response came, you slotted the key into its hole. Before you could turn, a sudden and very heavy bang came from beyond the door, rattling the strong frame and forcing you back as you clutched your blouse and blazer. Your keys still swung from the doorknob. You could see shadows under the door where his feet were.
“Go away!” Bigby barked from the other side of the door.
Colin wasn’t lying. You slowly peeled yourself off of the wall and took a careful step towards his door once more, eyes still locked on your swaying keys.
“Bigby, are you alright?” you finally spoke up.
You weren’t afraid of him, not in the slightest, but you were afraid of what may have happened to him; Especially if it had Colin leaving the floor, it had to have been bad considering the pig was there when he was dying after what happened with Bloody Mary.
“(Y/n),” you could hear a canine keen coming from Bigby, something you’ve never heard him do. “(Y/n), don’t come in here.”
“Bigby, you need to talk to me. If this is something I can try to magic away, I will.” You pressed both hands against the doorframe and gave it a gentle push, gauging how much Bigby was putting against the other side to keep it shut. Normally, his door would have a little give, but it was moving as much as a turtle under a heat lamp. “Bigby, I wanna help you-”
“You… can’t.”
“Can’t? Or you don’t want my help?”
The stubborn dog would sometimes make you think he would prefer to lick his wounds than get them checked out. It wasn’t really out of pride or anything like that, but more so something that Bigby’s done for centuries: Take care of it himself. There was a little pang of hurt that prickled your heart, but you knew he didn’t mean anything by it.
“I can’t. You need to leave before I-”
Bigby let out an odd crooning noise. You could tell his teeth weren’t normal from how he was speaking, you could hear his claws lightly scratching down the door. Was he having a problem with the wolf? Was it something you could help? Was he terrified of hurting you?
“Bigby, you won’t hurt me. Let me in, let me help you,” you pleaded softly against the door.
Another keen from his throat. Bigby was silent for a few moments before you heard him unlock his door from the inside and he stalked off into his apartment on heavy feet. You quickly slipped the keys into your purse and slipped inside, closing the door behind you when you were suddenly pinned to the door by your chest and stomach. “Bigby?”
His breath was hot on your shoulder and cheek, smelling of whiskey and Huff n’ Puffs. His hands were splayed out on either side of you, pinning you between him and the door. You were right about the claws, long and dark and sharper than razors. You could see the hair growing thicker up his arms. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the glow of his eyes cutting through the low lighting of his apartment. There was a smell in the air, heavy and musky and it honestly smelled like a sex hotel-
Oh.
Oh.
That’s what Colin meant by ‘Excited.’
You’ve met werewolves before in the Homelands where they’d pass by your home in the woods, you know quite a few things about them and what they’re capable of. How could it have slipped your mind that females go into heat and males-
“Bigby. Are you in a rut?”
Your voice didn’t waiver like you prayed it wouldn’t. You kept your breathing steady though you could feel your heart still pounding in your throat. You couldn’t give off any indication you were afraid or he would put you right back outside.
“Tell me right now: Do you want this?” Bigby growled in your warm his fangs ghosting over the shell and down your neck.
You two haven’t had sex yet. It wasn’t something either of you were avoiding, of course not, it was going to be more of a ‘it happens when it happens’ kind of thing. Sadly, every time you think it would happen, something else is brought up that drags one of you - if not both of you - away. Your first time together would be when Bigby won’t be able to control himself fully and you’ll be subject to the werewolf’s carnal desires.
The immense heat his body was giving off mixed with the stuffy air in his apartment and the fact that you could feel it ghosting your backside had you suddenly nodding.
“Yes,” you said firmly.
You were suddenly flipped around, back forced against the door as Bigby crowded you. He was already taller and broader, the shirt he still had on was starting to look woefully stretched, the top few buttons were undone and his tie was loose around his collar. His eyes bore into you, giving you that same look the sheriff gives to criminals when Bigby interrogates them; Stern and dark, looking for the truth.
“Don’t tell me that if you’re scared of me,” his fangs glistened in the dark.
“I’m not scared of you, I love you. I wanna help you, Bigby.”
There was a brief flash of something soft in his eyes before primal lust took over again. He released you from the door, looking your clothes up and down.
“Strip,” he ordered.
You didn’t waste time, shucking off your blazer and kicking off your shoes, you pulled your blouse over your head when you saw Bigby struggling with the rest of the buttons on his shirts. His pants zipper was already undone, the button open and his belt long gone leaving his dick to tent his boxers. As you loosened your pants and let them fall to the ground, you made to help him with his shirt only for Bigby to suddenly grow frustrated and tear the thing from his body. You couldn’t help but blush at the rippling muscles that were underneath his shirt, admiring the way the sweat that slowly built up made him shine in the low lighting, showing off every single chiseled line that went into his brawny body despite thick hair growing in fast.
He did the same thing to his pants, tearing them just enough for them to fall to the ground and he stepped out of the ruins. His poor boxers didn’t last much longer, torn to shreds as Bigby stumbled while transforming. He really was a sight to behold, tall enough he couldn’t stand up straight in his small apartment, broader than the doorways, his hung cock right before you. He was big, you already knew that, but what he was packing would most likely split you in half. And looking more closely, you saw that damning piece of evidence that Bigby’s rut had come out of nowhere; His knot was already formed at the base of his cock, ready to lock into you and pump his hot seed inside and impregnate you. You had just managed to unhook your bra when Bigby pounced on you, the poor garment falling to the floor.
Bigby’s big paws grabbed at your body and encircled your hips, allowing you to fall to the ground in his strong hold. The werewolf laid above you, claws now on either side of your head, saliva that coated his fangs started to drip down his fangs, lycan eyes were pinned on yours as his monstrous heat engulfed you. There was a look of restraint in his eyes, like he was giving you one last chance to get your senses in order and get the fuck out of here; But you stayed. You carded a hand into the scruff of Bigby’s neck and scratched lightly, something you’ve done before when he wolfs out to help calm him down.
You’re not going anywhere.
Bigby’s pupils shrank as he sniffed you down, his fangs scraping against your bare skin as he licked up the salt that lingered. He crooned, he growled, he nipped at your soft skin as he trailed his tongue down to your panties. The werewolf didn’t even hesitate, ripping them in half and throwing the shreds away from you both. Wasting no time, Bigby dove in, slipping his large paws under your ass to hike your core closer to his maw, he slid his sharp tongue right between your folds and devoured.
You gasped, jaw unhinging as his tongue plunged inside of you, his saliva coating your folds and helping you split open as his tongue swirled and thrusted. Your toes curled in your socks, your knees felt weak all of a sudden, you found your ankles now locked in the grasp of your werewolf lover. He split your legs open more, claws digging in enough for you to start barely bleeding. You whined and cried, nails scratching the floorboards for purchase as a white heat lanced right through your entire core.
“B-Bigby! Fuck! Oh God, Bigby!” you moaned.
Sweat started to bead at your hairline and he had only been eating you out for barely a minute. Your eyes were wide, your head was swimming, your mouth hung open as you scraped the back of your head against the floorboards. Your entire body was engulfed in heat, the sweat that started to roll down your curves soaked into the old wood that became your only solace for cooling you down.
His tongue alone is long, reaching deep into you, brushing against your cervix and flicking against your sensitivities. His fangs brushed against your delicate skin, little flecks of electrical passion flooded up and down your spine. You felt a crackle at your fingertips, your nails buzzing against your bones. You curled your fingers into his soft fur at the back of his head and kept the beast there, not willing to let him pull away until he forced an orgasm out of you. You’ve never felt like this before, not once in your very long life. You knew right there as he tongue-fucked you on his living room floor that you would experience an orgasm that would be impossible to describe other than pure bliss.
You felt that band start to pull inside of you, a taut feeling slowly winding up right behind your bellybutton as Bigby lavished your pussy. He dropped your ankles from his paws and gripped your hips, lifting your ass up and off of the floor so he could press his muzzle closer to your dripping cunt. Your feet had fallen to the sides of Bigby, spread as wide as you could handle the stretch and bent at the knees. You could feel your magic bristling down your fingertips, begging to release, your brain screaming at you, your heart begging you to bask in the euphoria that was about to take you.
You came quickly on the werewolf’s face, the beast between your legs letting out a deep purr, quickly removing his tongue and leaving you suddenly hollow. The whine you let out was desperate, toes curling, nails biting into his skin to stop him from standing up but he pulled away. You clawed at the ground instead, your nails leaving a faint glow behind as your own magic boiled away inside of you. You look up at Bigby with wide, pleading eyes.
He grabbed your ankles once again and hiked them over his broad and fuzzy shoulders, letting your knees rest on his brawn before he let go again. He planted his hands on either side of your head, claws digging deep ravines into the wood. His eyes were pinned on yours, golden hues with flecks of amber towards the edges, pupils dilating between being blown wide and shrinking so small; It felt like Bigby was still fighting his rut to protect you, to soften the impact, to work you open so he doesn’t just split you in half.
You felt a tap at your passage, your breath hitching when his blunt head rutted against your slickened core. You winced when his tip breached your womanhood, the werewolf chuffing and growling at how tight you still were and slowly inched his way inside. The air had left your lungs the second he started to sink in, your mouth agape and your head leaned to the side. Your hands snatched at Bigby’s shoulders, nails digging in and scratching as Bigby sheathed himself inside of you. You felt so incredibly full when you felt his knot brush against your cunt. You feared that if Bigby moved too fast, you’d be torn apart. A heavy sigh forced air into your lungs finally as Bigby crooned in your ear. He licked his tongue still slimy from your orgasm up the side of your neck to taste the salt on your skin as he slowly started to piston his hips. Your legs started to feel the strain of being in this position already, the pull on your hamstrings only made your bones tingle and grow heavy as your body seemed to relax in Bigby’s hold.
Bigby fucked you slowly, holding back as best as he could despite you being able to see the strain in his eyes. His grasp on humanity wouldn’t last much longer if you had to put money down on it, his speed was starting to get sloppy and impatient. You let out deep, wanton moans as he slammed into your cervix with every thrust. Every time his head struck inside of you, it felt like your cervix was maybe a few more thrusts away from breaching. Tears started to trickle down your cheeks, your hair stuck to your face, his fur clinging to your body. Bigby licked a long strip up from between your breasts to right behind your left ear. He nipped at your earlobe with his jagged teeth, crooning and sniffing at your pulsepoint. He lapped at your throat, nudging his wolfen nose deep in the crook of your neck, ghosting his teeth on your skin. You knew what he wanted, you knew what the werewolf needed.
“Bigby- Yes. Bigby, please,” you whimpered.
You urged the beast, egging him on, spurring him to snap his hips faster. Your nails raked up and down what you could reach of his back, your ankles pinching at the sides of his thick neck. You craned your head further to the side, urging Bigby to mark you.
To mate you.
He drooled over you, lapping at your pulse, snatching at your naked base, taking in the heavy musk of sex that sat heavy in the room. The more you kept talking, the more he lost himself to the monster inside of him; The more he wanted to fuck you until you were full and he knew you were pregnant with his pups and take care of you.
Fuck; The image of your belly swollen with his litter, absolutely glowing just for him and the beast that lingered under his skin alone. The images swimming in his mind was enough for him to snap.
You felt his knot catching, starting off as light tugs turned to him suddenly becoming stuck inside of you. You whined openly with your whole chest, arching your back at the loss of his thrusting. You felt so fucking full, Bigby sitting inside of your womanhood like this stretched you to your absolute limit. His head nestled right against your cervix, and with a sudden yowl from the werewolf above you followed by the sudden explosion of liquid heat inside of you.
Before you could process what was happening, Bigby latched his jaws down on the crook of your neck. You cried out, nails digging in, magic crackling at your fingertips that sent shocks through Bigby, back arching even more into your lover as he marked you as his claim.
As his mate.
You wouldn’t turn from this, that you knew of; Though, honestly, you didn’t really understand how that worked. But as you laid there, groaning, body growing heavy after another sudden orgasm mixing with Bigby’s seed coating your womb white, you could feel the bite oozing blood as well as an odd pull coming over your mind. You whimpered, wanting to at least turn over to your side if not turn over completely, but Bigby held you in your place with an iron-like grip. You felt painfully full, even when his dick had stopped milking itself inside of you, and that damn knot kept you plugged up. Bigby adjusted your legs on his shoulders, lifting your ass off of the floor and held your legs up to an almost mating press. He wasn’t going to let one drop of his cum go to waste, not now.
“B-Bigby, please-” you pleaded.
You felt drunk off of the sensations alone, mind fuzzy, body limp, your being at the mercy of the rutting werewolf above you. He finally let go of your poor shoulder, blood coated his teeth though you could feel the bleeding had stopped. There was a gleam in his eyes, something that told you that Bigby was still in there.
You don’t know how long you both had stayed in that uncomfortable position before Bigby’s knot eventually shrank enough for him to slip out of you. You shivered when his cum started to leak out of your cunt when he settled your legs back down on the floorboard. Bigby stayed over you, though, trapping you beneath his beastly arms as he went right back to licking at your body, enjoying the way the salt made his tongue tingle. He spent extra time crooning and growling at your bite that still throbbed with your pulse. Your eyes fluttered shut as you laid there and took whatever Bigby had to give, your body too heavy and sluggish to do much else and this was only round one.
It took you both a few minutes to open your eyes again, squinting as the setting sun bled through the blinds and flooded his apartment with hues of oranges and pinks. Bigby had started to come down a bit, no longer a lumbering werewolf but still all grizzly. You lifted a heavy hand to brush the hair out of his face, caressing his scruffy cheek that had Bigby closing his eyes again as he basked in your touch. Something crossed his mind as he opened his eyes again, yellow baring down into yours.
You knew he wasn’t done. Not by a long shot. These things can go on for days from what you’ve heard, sometimes they can last a week if the poor thing can’t find any release.
Bigby suddenly stood on his feet, stumbling a bit with his first steps. His dick was already hard again, another knot brewing on his cock as remnants of his cum dribbled down his shaft. He snagged the rotary phone he still had after all of these years off of the side table he kept by his front door, picking up the whole thing and dragged it back to you. He placed it on the ground in front of you while you were still on your back trying to catch your breath and prepare yourself for round two. When he set it down, the rotary chimed softly.
Bigby nodded to the phone.
“Call your job. Tell ‘em you’re not coming in for a few days. I’m not done with you,” he growled down to you.
Your eyes flicked between Bigby’s eyes, Bigby’s cock, and Bigby’s phone before you slowly reached and took the cradle in your hands. You flipped over onto your stomach, dragging the chassis closer to you as Bigby stalked around towards your backside. You raised a trembling finger to the dial, managing to get halfway through the phone number when Bigby got on his knees right behind you, crawling on top and snaking his hands under your belly to lift you up onto your knees.
“Bigby,” you pleaded softly.
You finally finished dialing the old-fashioned way and raised the cradle to your ear, listening to the ringing and waiting for the answering machine to kick in. As you waited, you closed your eyes as Bigby rutted against your backside. One of his hands slid to your ass and palmed it, claws scratching faint lines into the curve. When the answering machine kicked in, Bigby listened with great pleasure as you stumbled over your words, lying through your teeth about how you wouldn’t be able to come to work for the next few days because your mother was sick and blah blah blah. Just as you finished speaking, Bigby reached his other hand up and smacked the receiver, cutting the call and batting the rotary away from you both, leaving you in the hands of the big bad wolf.
Redraw of the “Thick as Thieves” manga collection cover because I respect monkey punch’s incredible impact on media as we know it today but holy shit that cover—
sum. to welcome your new coworker you decide to take him out for a drink…and end up on your knees.
content explicit nsfw, alcohol consumption, make out sesh, coworker dynamic, profanity, oral m!receiving, teasing, porn with some plot, fluffy if you squint
note knew I had to write about him the moment he appeared on my screen.
“Get the fuck out…” Robert mutters, his forehead pressing against the glass of the vending machine as his fist thuds repeatedly against the side. The sound echoes through the break room—metallic, stubborn, pointless.
You watch from your seat at a nearby table as he keeps at it, jaw tight, shoulders hunched, determined to win against the machine that’s swallowed his dollar. The Twinkie inside doesn’t move an inch.
After another thirty seconds of silent struggle, he exhales sharply and pinches the bridge of his nose. The defeat looks heavy on him.
You rise from your seat, hesitating for a moment before walking over. His gaze stays locked on the motionless snack like it’s personally betrayed him.
You clear your throat softly.
Robert’s head jerks up, eyes snapping to yours—tired, caught, a little embarrassed. The realization hits him that someone else actually exists in this godforsaken break room, someone who probably also wants to use the same shitty vending machine.
He takes a step back, rubbing the back of his neck, and mumbles a quick, half-assed apology. “Yeah, uh—go ahead. Guess she doesn’t like me much.”
You give the vending machine a light slap, and the Twinkie finally drops.
“Huh,” Robert says wryly, eyeing it like it’s mocking him.
You bend down, grab the treat, and hand it to him. There’s the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips.
“Thanks for the hand,” he mutters.
“No problem. You’re the new recruit—Robert, right?” you ask, extending your hand.
“In the flesh.” He gives your hand a quick shake before letting his arm fall back to his side.
“So, is that shit about you working with Z-Team true?”
He grimaces lightly. “Yeah, that shit’s true.”
You raise your brows. “Well, you’ve already lasted longer than most dispatchers they’ve been assigned. Half of them didn’t even make it a whole day—hell, not even an hour.”
“Yeah,” he says with a dry chuckle. “They’re not exactly the most ideal team. But I’m not giving up on them that easily.”
“Whoa,” you say, eyes widening dramatically. “Your eyes just did this whole sparkly, full-of-hope thing.” You gesture between your eyes and his with exaggerated disbelief.
A disbelieving smile spreads across his face as he shakes his head. “Alright, fuck off…”
You grin. “Well, now I can see why you’ve lasted as long as you have.” You take a sharp inhale, pulse skipping a little. “…Are you free later?”
He fidgets with the Twinkie in his hand, brow quirking. “Yeah, I’m free.”
“Wanna grab a drink? You know, to welcome you to the team.”
“Sure—”
“Great! Meet me at Blackout Bar at eight-thirty tonight. I’ve gotta run—my break ended, like, five minutes ago.” You toss him a quick smile before rushing out of the break room.
As soon as you slip back into your cubicle, an uncontrollable grin spreads across your face. The rest of your shift breezes by—you’ve got plans with an extraordinarily cute guy. Even if it’s not technically a date.
Your finger taps against the bar counter anxiously. Had he forgotten you’d even asked him out?
It’s already nine, thirty minutes past the time you’d told him to meet you. It would be awfully embarrassing to get left hanging. You did invite him out as a coworker, though your attire says otherwise—You’re wearing a dress that’s a tad skimpy and a pair of heels you got at the mall—which are a pain in the ass to walk in.
God, what is taking him so long?? Maybe he’s letting you down easy. Maybe you’d get an apology text from him in a few seconds where he rain checked and gave a bullshit reason. Maybe—
“Hey, sorry I’m late. I’ve got a dog back home that doesn’t seem to care about my personal life.” Robert says as he sits on the bar stool beside yours. He calls over the bartender and looks over at you, “Don’t get used to me buying the round. I only do that for coworkers who make me laugh.”
You roll your eyes at him as the bartender places your drinks on the counter, your anxiety dissipating. Robert has a strange familiarity about him that comforts you in a sense—as if he were some kind of hero.
The next hour passes by in an instant, despite his words he kept buying the next round—though it’s only fair since you kept making him laugh. Admittedly, you’re both a bit tipsy now.
You’re outside of the bar leaning against a brick wall as he stands in front of you. The cool night air hits you and the once lively ambiance has faded into obscurity, you’re only focused on one thing—him.
“If I told I don’t usually do this, would you believe me?” He asks, curiosity in his gaze.
A silence stretches between you.
“I don’t usually do this either,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper.
Maybe you’re imagining it but it seems like with each passing second his face inches closer to yours. Before you realize it his lips press against yours, you freeze in complete shock— his body tenses and he quickly pulls back once he notices your lack of response.
“Didn’t mean to—” he rubs the back of his neck, “It just… felt like—”
Before he can finish his sentence you grab him by the collar of his shirt and press your lips back against his. you know it’s wrong—but it feels so right.
His body relaxes and he kisses you back. His tongue presses against the seam of your lips and you immediately part them. His body feels warm against yours and he smells faintly of alcohol, his movements unsteady.
Without realizing it your hands tangle themselves in his hair— it’s as soft as it looks.
His slow pace turns rough, in a matter of seconds he grips the nape of your neck and deepens the kiss. His other hand on your waist tracing small circles over your thin dress. You tug at his hair and he groans softly into your mouth. A noise that sends a wave of heat over your body to straight between your legs.
His knee parts your thighs and pushes itself against your clothed cunt. A shiver runs down your spine and you tear your mouth from his.
You’re forced to meet his tired eyes, now full of something you can’t decipher. His lips are slightly parted and wet as if he’s waiting for you to grab him by the collar again.
You try to steady yourself before speaking, but your words come out breathlessly anyways. “Wanna get out of here?”
The ride to his home is a blur of moments.
You burst through his front door and the moment it closes you’re the first to lean in, or maybe he is — it’s hard to tell. The only thing clear is the sound of a glass tipping somewhere behind you.
He catches you by the waist before you stumble, half-laughing, half-cursing under his breath. He’s leaning against a counter your body flush against his.
“You—” he starts, but you pull him closer, and whatever he was going to say gets lost against your mouth.
His eyes flutter shut but his hands hover for a second — like he’s giving you one last chance to change your mind — then settle at your hips, steady but unsure.
Between kisses, he mutters something quiet— not quite a word, more of a thought he didn’t mean to let slip.
You’ve had more drinks than you can count tonight but you feel stone cold sober. You can tell you’ll remember everything in the morning—the way his lips feel against yours, his scent, the faint taste of whiskey and smoke.
Your hands snake their way under his shirt, fingernails running over his toned waist.
He exhales sharply at the sudden sensation, his grip on your hips tightening. His body feels hot and is covered in what you can only assume are scars—He has so many, if these were different circumstances you’d look at each one of them and ask him about their pasts.
Your lips part from his with a pop, a string of saliva caught between you.
Although it’s dimly lit you can make out most of your surroundings. His apartment is small, functional, everything neat enough to look like he doesn’t spend much time there. Just being in here with him feels strangely more intimate than making out with him—like you’re seeing the part of him that isn’t performative or on duty.
You focus your attention back on him and one of his eyebrows is arched. He looks at the way you guys are tangled in each other and a small smirk appears on his face. “Guess we’re both terrible at taking things slow.”
“You sound like you want me to stop.” You say as your fingers graze the zipper of his pants, “Do you?”
He unzips his pants with his own two hands, “Never.”
“Thanks for the hand.”
“It’s only fair since you helped me fir-” he trails off when you slowly begin to get down on your knees, pulling his pants down as you move. The tips of his ears turn a light shade of pink.
You hook your fingers on his boxers and pull them down in one swift motion. He’s not crazy huge like those guys in unrealistic fantasy books you always have your nose stuck in, but lord he isn’t small—at all.
You softly wipe away his precum with your thumb before kissing him slowly, your tongue gliding across his warm shaft. He hasn’t been touched like this in years—it’s almost too much to handle.
You look up at him through your lashes as you take him into your mouth, your cheeks hollow. He groans almost immediately and his hand finds your shoulder, grasping for stability. You find a steady rhythm—your head bobbing up and down his cock while your hands run themselves along his bare thighs.
His chest rises up and down quickly and his hand finds its way to your hair, guiding you. You moan, the vibrations sending a strange, addictive sensation throughout his body. With each passing second he wants more, more of your mouth, more of the feeling of your hands—more you.
He slumps back slightly and his hips begin to thrust themselves into your mouth. It’s selfish, he knows it, but that fervent look in your eyes is driving him crazy.
The apartment is filled with lewd, wet sounds and his (very) occasional groans. Every so often he catches a glimpse of your breasts pressing against the fabric of your thin dress—He can’t wait to rip it off of you.
You start gagging, tears in your eyes. when your back arches his cock hits the back of your throat—it’s enough to send him over the edge. Wave after wave of pleasure washes over him, strings of curses escaping his lips.
He cums into your mouth and you pull back, gasping for air. You swallow the warm, salty liquid, and it glides down your throat smoothly.
You stand up, your knees slightly wobbling. He stables you with his arms an uneven smirk on his face. He exhales through a shaky laugh. “You’re going to ruin me,” he whispers, his hand cupping your cheek.
“Relax, you’ll survive me.” You say before pressing your wet lips against his. Both of your movements are sloppy and strangely passionate, savoring every moment the two of you are pressed against each other like this.
a/n Lmk if I should write some more Robert stuff :) part 2 soon!!
hello all <3 not my usual post on here and i never wanted to ever make this post on a blog i've only had for five months. unfortunately, my fics have been stolen and posted as ai prompts on the app, character ai.
i've explicitly placed in my pinned post and in my masterlist that i would not like reposts of my work to be done across platforms. fanfic is something i write for free and for fun, and seeing it used without my consent is really disheartening.
i’ve already reached out to the creator to ask for the bots to be taken down, but since they’ve been active and haven’t responded, i wanted to make a public note here.
their user is @/reallymarenyearly, aka lilo, on both tumblr and character ai.
UPDATE: she’s changed her username on character ai to @/lilolilo2013 and deactivated her tumblr.
below the cut, i have placed screenshots comparing my fics with her bots and other notable information writers and readers alike should know (including other bots she's made, fandoms they're in).
as seen in the screenshots below, they've both copy and pasted, and slightly skewed writing of mine for their bots without my permission. i'd like to add that they write for multiple fandoms which i will list below so...
IF YOU WRITE FOR THESE FANDOMS, I TRULY ADVISE YOU GO THROUGH THEIR BOTS TO SEE IF YOURS WERE ALSO TAKEN!
DC UNIVERSE: clark kent, adrian chase
MARVEL UNIVERSE: bob reynolds (sentry), bucky barnes, matthew murdock
HARRY POTTER UNIVERSE: regulus black, remus lupin, sirius black, james potter, sebastian sallow
THE LAST OF US: ellie williams, joel miller
(edit: also just learned she’s charging money for bots so please be wary of that because she could be taking other author’s works!)
please don’t interact with or use any ai bots or prompts based on my writing. if you ever see my work reposted anywhere, please let me know.
if you’d like to help, you can also report their bots and account directly on character ai. i’m not encouraging harassment – just helping make sure fanfic writers’ work stays protected and respected.
I DO NOT IN ANY WAY CONDONE HATE! SO PLEASE DON'T SEND HATE TO THIS USER.
thank you all for understanding and for always supporting me and my writing <3 it’s truly so, so appreciated and i’m so happy to share it with you.
Hey guys, so when I made this post, I was extremely frustrated and annoyed. Now that I’m way more mellowed out and had the chance to read a lot of reactions and responses, let me act my age and actually clarify some things.
First, I want to apologize to those who were deeply upset by my post. My post overall was towards those who claim they don’t write for a specific audience, and yet put specific descriptions in their work. There is absolutely NOTHING wrong with adding certain details to your reader, such as gender or body type. The issue comes in when you don’t properly title and tag it as so, or completely ignore it altogether.
If you see my post as an eye opener and want to change up your work, then you have every right to do so, but please do not think that this is an attack or jive directed at you. It’s just that some of us readers want exactly as promised. That’s like blindfolding someone, telling them that you’re gonna feed them an apple, and then making them bite into a banana - peel and all.
I know some writers have said that they want to be more inclusive in response to my criticism. If that is what you truly want, then by all means, but I cannot stress enough: write what YOU want to write. Do not feel as though you’re being pressured to change what you put out; it’s just a means of how you categorize it.
Thank you to everyone who took the time to read, respond, and engage with my original post. I truly appreciate the perspectives shared, they’ve helped me see things more clearly and refine my thoughts.
Ok, What The Flip Guys? @lupinsagas - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
