#my writing is great suck my dick

[mayday505]

I have so nearly finished the first chapter of the Yuan and Dazai reminiscing abt Chuuya fic!!! 13k aha…. But making the draft for the AO3 post was magical ngl

[koszmarnybudyn]

Here is the slut.

[the-rewritten-railway-au]

Thomas and the Pacifics

May 1930

The Adventure Begins (2015)

Word Count: 1,276

Thomas meets Henry, and Gordon teaches Thomas a lesson.

~

Once Thomas, Edward, and James arrived at Tidmouth, the mogul rushed away to find Annie and Clarabel. The smaller engines settled closer to the station. From where they were, Thomas noticed Emily waiting at the Big Station. She seemed cross and anxious, looking at something every few seconds.

“Could ye be a dear and shunt the Express coaches for Emily?” The E2 glanced at the 4-4-0, who appeared to be giddy. However, it was more like a failed attempt at hiding his giddiness. “I usually dae it but I hae a guids train tae take.”

“What? But I thought we'd be working together! Just like you said!”

“I'll haste ma boiler!” Edward's reassurance didn't do much for Thomas. Considering how long the Main Line was and how long it took Thomas to travel it, “soon” would be more than an hour for Edward.

And before Thomas could protest, Edward was off, leaving the tank engine alone. With a huff, the khaki engine scuttled about the yard, getting to work.

As Thomas passed the water tower and coal hopper, he noticed the green tender engine from the night before. “Hello there!” Might as well! “I'm Thomas. Who are you?”

“Henry,” he scoffed. “So you're the Fat Controller's new engine?”

“I am!” The tank engine puffed up, feeling unwelcome. “What about it?”

With mirth, Henry replied, “Nothing.” Henry's fireman climbed in and petted his cab. Said engine pulled away, leaving Thomas behind.

…

Eventually, Edward returned, though looking different.

“What are those?” asked Thomas, focused on the metal piece perched on Edward’s nose.

“Och, these?” he chuckled. “They’re glasses. I didnae mention it, did I?”

“No! But why?”

“Ma age might be gettin’ tae me!” The joke fell flat. “Anyhow, I see ye’ve done well!”

“My class was built for shunting! I told you that!”

“And thon ye did! Ye kept yer word, mate.” With two short whistles, Edward rolled along. “Ye take a break. I’ll take care o’ things frae here.”

“But-”

“I insist!”

“But-” I was built for this!  “-you’re a tender engine!”

“Diz’nae stop me frae ma job, noo diz it?” And he was off again.

Thomas pouted but relented. The late spring heat was getting to him. He eyed a shady spot at the edge of the yard. He settled down with his crew keeping an eye on his fire and chatting in his cab, occasionally petting their engine.

Then the afternoon came. And when afternoon came around, it was time for the noon Express. Thomas, now rested, grabbed the Express coaches temporarily set aside during his break and shunted them to the platform. With practiced ease, the tank engine reversed and braked, settling the rack of coaches.

He was thankful for these coaches. Such polite beings they could be when treated properly. “Thank you, thank you!” chortled the brake coach. “Thomas, was it?”

“Yes, ma’am!” replied the khaki tank engine. Such a drastic attitude compared to the few accidental bumps he gave them.

“Just in time! I’m impressed,” mocked Gordon as he backed down. “Unlike this morning…”

“Try sleeping somewhere else!” snapped Thomas, ignoring his crew. “Far away from your old home!”

“Oh, hurry up you!”

“Hurry up yourself!” With that, Thomas kept his mouth shut, right after apologizing for yelling in the brake coach’s face. She scolded him— a complete 180 of her attitude from mere moments ago.

He was not aware of Gordon’s grin. He didn't hear what Gordon said. The only warning he got was Gordon pulling him right along.

“Gordon, stop!” hollered the tank engine but the blue Pacific didn't listen. The noise of pistons pumping got louder and faster. Oh no, oh no, oh no! “Gordon!”

The stationmaster blew his whistle frantically, some of the passengers hollered, and the yardman chased after Thomas but it was too late. Gordon was off with the Express, pulling poor Thomas right along.

Green pastures and lush hills were nothing but blurs to the tank engine. His wheels ached as Gordon thundered past Knapford and Crosby. “Stop, stop!” exclaimed Thomas.

“Hurry, hurry!” Oh, if Thomas didn't like Gordon before, he sure didn't now. “Keep up!”

Cheeks burning, it was becoming harder to puff steam. The fast pumps of his piston drained his water supply. Oh, when will it end? When will it end? He needed to stop. At this rate, he felt like he would fall apart.

And as soon as Thomas pleaded, Maron Hill came into view. Its steep incline proved to be difficult for the grand blue engine, and the tank engine was ever thankful. With the little grace provided, he caught his breath.

He took in those few seconds as before he knew it, the ground was flat and Gordon would be off again. He braced himself for a burst of speed but it never happened. Instead, Gordon kept a steady pace.

Wait a minute. Is this the station on the hilltop? He recalled seeing it on his way to Tidmouth but he never got its name.

And much to his relief, it was. It was Gordon's next stop.

The Express engine came to a halt.

Finally, it was over as his driver applied the brakes.

His fireman, Archibald Higginbottom, or “Archie” as he was called, scrambled out of the cab with a shunter's pole and uncoupled the engine. He beat the awaiting yardman, who'd been notified of the incident.

“Now, little Thomas,” boasted Gordon. “Now you know what real work looks like!” Boisterous laughter erupted from the Pacific as he steamed away, leaving the poor tank engine behind.

“Come on, lad!” Archie stroked Thomas’ running board. “Let's get you some water!”

The tank engine hummed but once Mr. Perkins released his brakes, the ache struck the khaki engine. He tried to reach the water tower after the station but he only managed a meter or two.

“Come on, Thomas!” encouraged Archie.

“I can't-!” His voice cracked. The exhaustion was thick and clear. “I'm sore.”

“Well, we can't block the Main Line! Try again!”

“Wait!” Mr. Perkins popped out of his cab and pushed his body upwards on the edge. “I think an engine's coming! We can ask for help.”

“Who's coming down the line right now?” Archie scratched his sideburns absentmindedly. “No one should be coming down by now!”

A bright whistle was heard from a distance.

“We just might be in luck!” laughed Mr. Perkins before hollering, “Edward!”

The cerulean tender engine came around the bend. He came to a sudden stop, seemingly out of breath. “Thomas!”

“Perkins, is everything alright?” exclaimed Charlie.

“Once Thomas gets to the water tower, it will be.” He gestured towards the subject and was aware of the older engine's behavior. “Can you get Edward to move him?”

With a nod, Charlie pet Edward's cab. “Come on, lad. Let's get you switched over!”

“Aye, driver!” The tender engine backed up, switched over, and buffered up to Thomas. “Let's get you over there!”

Edward carefully shunted Thomas over. While the tender engine ignored the passengers, the tank engine felt embarrassed. Some of the passengers stared at the pair, particularly focused on the khaki engine. They were bewildered yet confused about why a tank engine was attached to a passenger train. Murmurs and gossip passed around, and it worried the crews.

“We’re almost there, Thomas,” soothed Mr. Perkins. “Ignore them.”

“This doesn't look good, Perkins.” Archie was on the edge, sweaty palms making the shovel slip from his hands. Once Thomas was at the water tower, the awaiting yardman worked to refill the engine’s tanks. “This is sure to make the railway look bad.”

Mr. Perkins huffed. “I only hope it gets Gordon to behave…”

~

As of posting this, I'll be taking a break from this arc and jump ahead in the timeline. The story I have in mind has been there for a while, and I can safely say that it won't be affected or affect stories before it. Yes, its important but it can stand on its own. It's getting a little dull, haha- so I'm gonna move to something I have ideas for.

With that out of the way, introducing Thomas' fireman! The Mr. Perkins segments are really nostalgic to me so I thought it would be fitting to have him be Thomas' first driver on the NWR, but I don't remember seeing Archie, unfortunately. However, Archie, from at first glance, reminds me of Junior from TaTMR (which i haven't finished watching, oops-). I wouldn't be surprised if they are played by the same actor though, lol.

As funny as CGI Henry can be, he does get annoying FAST. I absolutely LOVE early model era Henry so I'm gonna combine both, like I do with Emily. Compared to the previous rewrite I did, I like this a lot better since it does show that side more than the previous one.

Starting to limit the POVs I've been writing because if I don't, it gets chaotic f a s t. :(

Reblogs and comments are appreciated! Ty for reading! 🩵🌙

[bluejaybytes]

Parker is literally the worst because not only is she So Sucks Like As A Person, but it's also been probably years since I've reached this level of absolute autistic obsession we with ONE OC in specific, and I've forgotten how awful it is to have already said everything there is to say to the people willing to tolerate it. Like no there's nothing new to say I've already given an incredibly longwinded explanation of every plot point, narrative theme, her relationship with everyone, what she's thinking at all times, and at least 5 unrelated tangents about what OTHER OCs are doing at the time, I just still want to continue speaking with nothing to say. I hate you you stupid squid (octopus)

[compacflt]

i'm so curious: what's your favorite thing you've written? something that makes you nod and go, "yeah, that's it right there. i did that." just the best combination of words you've ever churned out in your personal opinion. it makes you proud just Thinking about it. could be a sentence, a paragraph, etc.

very cute ask anon, thank you. im going to assume for your benefit that you mean specifically my icemav writing—obviously I write outside of top gun and am very proud of that stuff but it wouldn’t make sense out of context.

There’s a lot of more recent stuff that I’m extremely extremely proud of on a technical level, but I’m prouder of this paragraph below on a deeper more existential level.

This paragraph was one of the first parts of WWGATTAI i ever wrote—august 12, i think, well before I had fully realized the characters’ voices or their attitudes towards life/each other; I only had about 5k written of what is now a 300k+ project (at the time of writing this paragraph i wanted it to be 10k max) and had no real outline, didn’t know who or what I was dealing with, hadnt seen TGM in two months, had done no research (so it’s not at all politically/militarily accurate or anything, why the FUCK is ice going to fucking GUAM)—and STILL this wound up being my favorite paragraph in the entire fucking series. not to suck my own dick or anything. I’m STILL so proud of this paragraph, 9 months and 275k+ words later, even though i Absolutely Would Not write it this way now.

[fraternum-momentum]

also totally unrelated but i wanted to ramble sooo while i was drawing i watched the jerma vod for neon white and i say this with full shame that i would go on my knees for this fucking guy right here

[dameronalone]

I think what the "write for yourself" crowd are missing out on is that I DO write for myself, and often. there's shit that's going to sit in documents forever and never be posted because it's for me. but since when did wanting to interact with people become a bad thing?

I used to get more prompts sent to me or even reblogs and interaction when I did post fanfiction on tumblr/ao3 and I promise you my writing was worse then than it is now so it can't be that. I DO write for myself but sometimes I want to share what I write or write what someone wants to read because it's fun and I like that!

but that's not enough these days. the only people who consistently get a lot of interaction are the "popular" blogs (and I'm not saying that's bad or anything because there are always going to be popular blogs) and if you aren't in with that crowd, good luck getting more than 30 notes

especially in the reader x fanfiction circles. it's horrible there, ESPECIALLY if you aren't writing for the popular character of the month. I don't know what changed but something did change significantly. if you aren't writing smut and if you aren't writing for the hottest character around the notes you're going to get are minimal. I posted a poe dameron x reader fic the other day that was dealing with canon stuff and it got like. two notes on tumblr, and a very small amount of kudos/hits on ao3. even the last smut reader fic with a fairly popular oscar osaac character I wrote didn't go far

its just really frustrating as a writer to try so often and get nothing. I reblog prompts and get nothing, I post fic and get nothing, I try to interact with the fandom and get nothing. I DO write for myself but sometimes I want to write for others. but not so much anymore

[cowgurrrl]

I hope you know how unbelievably talented you are. You churn out chapter after chapter like it’s nothing, and they only get even better each time, none of them are ever subpar, and they don’t feel rushed. You’ve got me reading this before bed to try and dream about being rockstar!Joel’s girl. You’re work is amazing and meaningful. Thank you for writing. (And thank you for feeding my delusions about being Joel’s actor girlfriend and having two little stepdaughters) 💌

LEJFKSJDJS THANK YOUUU

I really appreciate your kind words. It made me feel so special and loved 🥹🥹 I’m definitely just going through a little bit of slump which tends to happen after almost fifteen years of writing, working out original plots, being creative, and then trying not to feel like it all sucks lol but it’ll be great!! It’ll work itself out and I’ll (hopefully) stop over analyzing my silly little words on my silly little doc in my silly little room

Thank you so much for being so kind and making my day 🫶🫶

[maxthewickedgoblin]

love these tags but smart printer need to die. my empathy ends with them

stumbled across some of my printer opinions that i don't recall writing but am correct about

[neverendingford]

.

[tbaluver]

Hi hii how are you doing?? I've been thinking about mc catching the lads men masturbating to the thoughts of mc, do you think you could write something like that?

Imagine probably fits this more but obviously do whatever you feel like with this! If you want to write just headcannons that's obviously up to you! ^^

I love your work a lot, you're doing great <33

caught white handed!- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings: xavier x fem! reader, zayne x fem! reader, rafayel x fem! reader, sylus x fem! reader summary: you caught them touching themselves! warnings/ tags: MDNI, male masturbation, p in v, a/n: hihi izzyy !! i hope you enjoy reading ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ rest of my notes will be below <3 did you guys see what i did there in the title (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵) any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

it was a cold night yet xavier felt so hot. he softly groaned, his eyebrows furrowing as his eyes slowly flutter open. his eyes travel down his body, his dick straining against his grey sweats.

his eyes flicker over to your peacefully sleeping form. he can’t wake you, not when you have an important mission tomorrow. you need your rest and he knows he needs all of your stamina.

he sighs, tugging his grey sweats and boxers down. his cock springs free, begging to get a release. he lifts the hem of his shirt, biting down onto it so it suppresses any sound he can make.

he flutters his eyes closed, trying to grasp the wet dream he had. ah yes. his were lips grazed on every surface of you he can touch, his mouth leaving wet trails all over your body. he remembers trying to fight the urge to roll on top of you, to see your tits bounce every time he thrust into you.

his eyes flutter open again, watching his fist drag up and down his shaft slowly. he wishes his hand on his cock would be your cunt around him right now. he lets his head fall back further into the plush of the pillow as he tries to visualize more of your naked figure.

how he wishes you didn’t get assigned to that mission and how the plush of your walls would welcome his cock. how he would pound into you from behind and watch your ass jiggle, his hands leaving marks from how hard he’s gripping your hips. how your delicate hands would desperately be holding on the sheets of the bed as you moan his name in pleasure.

his eyes flicker to your sleeping form again, licking his lips when he sees your tit slipping out of your tank top. he increases the pace of his hand as he continues staring, how he wishes he can suck and lick them right now.

he visualizes pinning you down with his large form towering over you as he drills his dick deep inside of you. he clenches his eyes as he tries to suppress the groan, his pace picking up.your tits bouncing with each thrust, your mouth parted slightly, making drool drip down to your chin. your eyes half-lidded, drunk off of his cock. how he wishes he could shoot his thick loads of cum into you instead of wiping it away.

he can hear you moaning and chanting his name, “xavier, xavier”, unaware that it was actually you calling right beside him. xavier’s movement slows, his gaze locking onto yours with pleading eyes. “help” he whimpers, releasing the hem of his shirt from his teeth.

Zayne:

pages and pages of patient records and nursing notes were scattered across zayne’s desk. leaning slightly, he observes the new notes from the nursing staff. a few of the updates regarding the patient's conditions and status changes were incorrect, requiring his attention to make corrections. he couldn’t help but feel frustrated. this wasn’t the kind of work he’d hope to take home after a long day in the operating room.

he shifts his focus between the reports and his computer but his gaze keeps wandering to the framed pictures and trinkets on his desk. it was very unlike zayne to be so easily distracted, yet the little memories seemed to pull his attention away.

he could already hear your voice teasing him “you’re always telling me to take breaks, maybe you should listen to your own advice zayne!” and he would glance down at you, imagining the playful pout on your face as you drag him out of the room.

your soft hands would guide him to the couch, away from the stress that had been weighing down on him. you must have made him something sweet as you reach for the cup, bending purposely low enough for him to catch a glimpse of your ass. you would settle comfortably on his lap, letting him take the first sip while never breaking eye contact with you. once he finishes, you take a small sip, a small dribble of the drink slips down your chin lower and lower.

a playful smile would tug at the corner of your lips as you nuzzle in closer to him. he could feel your boobs pressing against him while your delicate hands trace the buttons of his shirt as you ask him with pleading eyes, “what’s on your mind zayne?”

he could’ve easily told you about his frustrations right now but both of you knew the answer was simple, it was you. zayne was quite strong and patient but when it came to you, you were the sun to his snow, melting and leaving him completely vulnerable just by your touch.

he momentarily loses his train of thought, his cock straining hard against his pants. he hesitates, feeling guilty for thinking about the possibilities of what could’ve happened in the scenario he imagined. but when his palm drags slowly against his clothed length, he feels relief spreading through his body. 

he tries to fight back these images of you, he has to go back and finish his work but how can he when small mementos of you are all over his desk? his desk, where he’s taken you over and under many times. the way he would have you bent over his desk, his cock rubbing against your weeping cunt before slowly sinking in. your cunt fluttering as it envelops his length completely.

he groans as he feels himself grow harder, the outline of his cock pressing against his trousers, begging to be free. he unbuckles his belt before lifting his hips up to pull down his pants and boxers, his cock springing free. his palm drags slowly along his length, the relief he once felt spreading through his body again.

he imagines it’s your soft warm hands that drag along his shaft. he visualizes you sitting here with your legs spread wide on his desk instead of these papers scattered all over. he lets his head fall back on his office chair, his eyes half- lidded as he imagines your weeping cunt. your beautiful eyes staring up at him as you take him fully as he kneads your pretty boobs.

your pretty moans, your walls fluttering around his dick was driving his mind insane. he squeezes his cock harder at the thought, feeling his orgasm nearing. soft groans as he thinks of his name falling from your lips. he pumps faster and faster until those beautiful eyes of yours are standing right in front of his door, holding his box from his favorite bakery.

zayne’s ears are bright red and you can’t tell whether it’s from rubbing his length or you finding him the act. he breathes in deeply, trying to sit up until you close the door and set the box aside.

“do you need any help doc-tor?”

Rafayel:

thomas had assigned him another art piece for an upcoming event but unfortunately the art block had plagued him for days. the deadline was approaching soon and surely thomas would nag him nonstop if he didn’t come up with anything. so in the last attempt, he found himself swimming in his bathtub, a pencil balanced over his nose as he stared blankly at the canvas in front of him.

he absentmindedly paddled his feet in the water, boredom creeping in. he missed you. thomas had banished you ( errands to help with the event ) so he could focus on the project, but how was he supposed to concentrate when his greatest inspiration isn��t by his side?

he pouts, sitting up to grab a towel to dry off the water on his skin before it smudges the canvas. pulling the canvas closer, he begins sketching. he starts with your cute little head, the one he loves to kiss so much. he captures the strands of your hair that contain the scent he adores, the one that always smells like home. and he adds your bright smile, the one that lights up his entire day.

he lowers to your chest, the one where he loves to lick and squeeze that makes you throw your head back. then down to your tummy, the place he loves to tease you with trails of wet kisses because he knows he’s getting closer. and your legs, the legs that would be pressed together whenever you were so shy to show him your soaking cunt.

he lets out a deep breath, his eyes travel down his body, his dick already hard and throbbing. he sinks back into the tub, taking his cock into his hand, stroking lazily up and down. his studio was empty so doesn’t bother suppressing his whimpers.

he licks his lips as he imagines your naked figure, water trickling down your wet breasts, your nipples hard and perky. your pretty little hand and eyes admiring his toned chest. he watches his fist drag up and down his shaft, pre-cum already leaking from his slit. those pretty eyes, the ones that look up at him pleadingly as your lips wrap around the head of his cock.

how he loved to imagine hearing you beg as he sits you down on his cock in the water, begging for friction, for movement. impatient girl

he imagines bending you over the cold surface of the tub, slowly sinking into you. how wet your body would be and the sounds you two would create once he was fully in. plap! plap! plap! wet and slippery skins against each other as his other hand slides up your sides to grab your ass or thighs. 

he pumps faster and faster into his swollen tip, unaware that you dropped the art supplies the moment you walked into the door. he was wrapped in his own world that he didn’t even hear you pick up and spill a million apologies.

he pants heavily, snapping out of his daze. his half-lidded eyes meet yours as he extends his hand towards you. “well? a performance always deserves some kind of reward.”

Sylus:

your boss let you go home early once there were no signs of energy fluctuations in any nearby areas and that everything seemed to be running smoothly. as you made your way to the bathroom, you figured a hot shower would hit the spot once you heard the water running.

your breath catches in your throat once you cracked the door open enough, catching a glimpse of sylus through the foggy glass of the shower doors. 

even through the foggy glass, you could tell from the position he was in and what he was doing. one hand pressed against the foggy glass while the other wrapped tightly around his flushed cock. he watched his hand drag along his length, filled with nothing but thoughts of you. 

you couldn’t help but watch, completely captivated by the way his white wet hair frames his sharp features, how water drips down to his toned muscles. you stood by the door completely frozen, lost in a daze until his voice broke through the silence of your thoughts.

“y/n” a moan escaping his lips as he imagines you being there with him in the shower. droplets of water run down his muscular nude body. the water was warm but yet he felt burning hot.

it was an addictive image of you where his cock was nestled between your lips, his fingers tangling in your hair. he can imagine your lips around the head of his cock, sucking lightly and hollowing out your cheeks before pulling back with a lewd and wet sound.

you’d repeat your motions, swirling your tongue along his tip, relaxing your jaw to take his cock once more. he sees your body below him, your wet hair framing your face beautifully as your eyes looked at him as he carefully works his cock down the tight tunnel of your throat.

but it doesn’t stop there.

he visualizes pinning you against the foggy glass of the shower doors, sinking his thick cock into your soaking hole. your legs would wrap around his waist, a moan escaping your lips as he pushes all the way in. his hips slap against your own while your wet tits bounce as his cock drills into your pussy.

he pumps faster into his swollen tip, thrusting into his fast. you can hear him spill curses and praises for you as he continues to think of the way how your cunt clenched around his length.

you squeeze your legs together as you look away from the door, your panties wet from watching your lover get off to you. you were lost in your own world as you debated on joining him or handling things with your own hands, that you didn’t even notice the sounds that slip off his lips had come to a halt. it wasn’t until the door opened that snapped you back to reality.

a towel hung loosely around his waist, his damp hair sticking to his skin while water trickles down the outlines of his muscles. he tilts his head slightly, a small smirk curling at the corners of his lips. “i hope you enjoyed my show. you’re more than welcome to join.”

a/n: ahhhh hihi again izzy ! im doing well since im finally in my winter break i hope you're doing great luv lmk <3 i apologize this took me forever to write i was busy with school so i kept going back and forth with the rough draft and school (╥﹏╥) i wanted to make sure at least all of them were in diff scenarios :o i hope you enjoyed reading ! thank you for supporting and reading my works it truly means so much to me !! (∩˃o˂∩)♡ i hope to see you again soon (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡

special thank yous to my beta readers mwah; @ilovemitsuya , @justwinginglife ₊˚⊹ ᰔ

[poguehearted77]

Hi!! I saw that your requests were open and I'm a big fan of your work and I was wondering if you could write something for rafe where reader is a pogue and they need to steal something from tanney hill but Rafe comes home unexpectedly and reader is supposed to distract him but they end up fucking >.< tyyy!!!

Oooh this is freaky. I love it.

My requests are still open.

smut!! -> >.<, penetrative sex, rafe gets flashed, dom! rafe, missionary, size kink, tummy bulge, rafe doesn't pull out..

In and out. That was the plan you and Sarah had agreed on. She would search through the office while you guarded the halls to make sure the coast remained clear.

Things got complicated. Plans changed when Sarah realized that Rafe had taken the liberty to add locks onto the cabinets where the files are kept. Your heartbeat drummed through your ears as you noticed the flash of headlights from Rafe's truck shine through the glass windows.

"Shit. Sarah, Rafe's back early. ETA on the files?" you panic, scurrying through the tiles halls until your feet take you into the office where the blonde crouched, picking the lock with a bobby pin. "I've almost got it. Distract Rafe, keep him as far from here as possible."

Your legs carried you as fast as they could, hoping to meet him outside the front door but he was already inside, your head bumping into his firm chest at full force, sending you tumbling to the ground. "Holy shit. What the-" He's mid-curse when he notices the face of the intruder. Your face.

"Y/n? What the hell are you doing in here?" His thoughts beat your lips to the answer as they geared the possibilities. His jaw locks as it dawns on him, "Where's Sarah, huh? Is she in here? You helping her steal from me now too?"

His steps are powerful as they begin to clear the premises but you desperately grab onto his bulging biceps. "No, Rafe! Stop." Not expecting him to obey so easily, he whips around, startling you.

Just over his shoulder, you see Sarah's head peek out of the office. She gives a wave with the needed files in hand. You had to make sure Rafe didn't turn around, at all costs.

"I thought you were different, y'know? I always thought you were too good to be hangin' with those pogues-" He's about to turn around while Sarah sneaks out the back. You do the first idiotic thing that comes to mind. Your fingers are hooking under the fabric of your top and heaving upwards to flash him your tits.

His sentences break off into chopped, undecided stutters and his hands slowly reach for your round mounds. His hands were hesitating until you gave him a slight nod. "H-holy shit. Most fuckin' perfect pair of tits I've ever seen." His mind is racing to catch up with his hands that gently massage your breasts and you let out a soft moan.

That's the last time either of your clothes were still draped across your bodies. The interaction was quickly followed by uncalculated steps and heated kisses toward the couch where he'd laid you down and fucked you dumb.

"You feel that?" Rafe relishes in the depths of your soaked cunt that sucked in his generous length. Summoning him to a state of bliss, serving a sentence he wished would last the rest of his lifetime.

His hand is placed arrogantly on your lower abdomen where the outline of his girth could be seen pushing up against your insides. Surely, the question is rhetorical as you'd been reduced to a whimpering mess under his touch.

"My dick's splittin' you open. You fuckin' like that shit?" His hips snap, and you squeal, your whole body jolting with every moment of his much bigger one. The sight of you beneath him was more than enough to get him riding along the edge of ecstasy.

"You got the best fuckin' pussy on the island, goddamnit." His lower lip is tucked between hiss teeth, doing his best to hold himself back.

Rafe wouldn't deny any allegations of previously imagining having you in this very position, but the reality puts the products of his imagination to great shame. "R-rafe!" You moan, unbelievably turned on by your 'sworn enemy'.

"Yeah-- shit. Me too." It's not long before his thrusts begin to falter with strained grunts but added force, and he cums not long after you do. He slowly pulls out, admiring the stringy white cum that kept you connected before he realizes what he's done.

"Rafe..." You slowly sit up, dreading the consequences of his actions. "Fuck--I know, shit. I jus' got so caught up- and your pussy jus' felt so good. I wasn't thinking straight." You're both scavenging to get your clothes on as he rambles on.

He reaches into his back pocket and grabs a wad of cash, "Go get a plan B, and we can both act like this never happened, okay?" With a cold gaze, you pocket the money before rushing outside where the Twinkie is waiting for you around the corner out of sight.

"Y/n! Oh my god what took you so long? We thought Rafe had done something to you." Sarah gasps once you finally pull open the doors of the van. Your head shakes, "Nothing. Just Rafe being Rafe, let's go."

[nighttimealone]

Cw: Nsfw (pt.2 of Dilf Next Door!Ghost)

Simon’s hobby improved to a new level of enjoyment because of you.

He’s at his flat when you open the door with the key he gave you. A simple grey sweatpants hanging low on his waist, faded shirts he owned since the first few years of his service covering his body when you spot him on the couch.

Simon lifts his head from the book as soon as he hears the door creaks open, the black reading glasses still on his face when he lets out a soft grunt to greet you.

“Can give you something to do, princess.” He mutters when you explain that you’re feeling bored, so you come over to see what’s he doing.

He picks up his book again minutes later, now with your trousers toss aside on the floor, panties still on but push aside, allowing his cock to barge in and nestles deeply in your cunt. One of his hand pushing you down to rest your head against his chest, while the other still holding his book, listening to you mewl every time he turns a page and accidentally’ shift his hips, grinding in and out of your now dripping cunny.

“Quit moving, love. Can’t see the words on the book clearly if you keep doing that.” The hand on your rear snaps down to holding your hips against his snuggly, dragging you down onto his cock in a swift move and makes his fat tip nudge against your cervix, making your eyes roll back and creams around his hard dick, walls clenching down tightly and try to milk him, so you can be filled with his white cum again just like last night.

“Can I move? please I want to move, please…” You watery eyes meet his, peppering kisses along his neck in attempt to make him lose control, yet all he does is anchoring your hips with his both hand, the book now lean back against your tits.

“Only few pages left. behave.” He croons, guiding your hips to slowly massage his cock, then unabashedly using your tits as makeshift book stand while he resume reading.

You’re stressed out as your exam day approaches, one hand gripping your hair while another holding the pen, trying to write down again the key points you just went over again, but failed miserably because your exhausted brain can’t operate properly after hours of study.

“Come here.” After probably the 100 times he hears you sigh subconsciously within hours, Simon’s voice pops up, beckoning you to come closer as he lies on your bed.

He’s gonna fuck all those stress out of you, and god, he’s doing such a great job, holding you down and desperately wanting you smother him with your pussy, tongues darts out and lapping at your wet folds, making you scream out his name in pleasure whenever he take your swollen clit in his mouth and gives it a hard suck.

“Use my tongue, sweetheart.” He pats on your thighs—straddling his face and wrapping his head in those soft flesh—encouraging you to ride his face and use it for your own pleasure. Don’t you dare lift your hips from his face before you come, his big palm will immediately lands on your ass cheek and spank you if you do so, before pulling you down so he can lick all the juices from your entrance, groaning contentedly against your pussy at the sweet and intoxicating taste.

“just like that, ride my face, need to feel you come on my tongue.” His praises barely registered as you chase your orgasm, fingers tangled in his hair and head throws back with all those moans—definitely the best music he’ve heard in his entire life—feeling him slurping all the juices eagerly in afraid of losing even a drop when you cry out his name and drench his face with your release.

Little whimpers escape your lips when you move your hips away from Simon’s face, and he reaches up to chase your soaked pussy, pressing a few more kisses—on your cute clit and puffy folds, as if thanking them for drowning him in his best dream.

And when you look down at him, it’s that slight smirk on his face again, the smug expression he has whenever makes you come or even squirt with his tongue only.

“I suppose that’s a way to relieve stress. Now, you still need more ‘stress relief session’, or you gonna go back to read those bloody textbooks?”

[sanguineterrain]

smut 18+ only, fucking jason on the kitchen floor, feral horny afab reader who wants to maul jason, unprotected sex, breeding kink, submissive jaytodd!!! rock on!!!

The first time you go absolutely batshit feral over Jason, he's cleaning the apartment.

He's done nothing to provoke your ferality (he never does), and usually, you keep it to yourself. Thoughts like if I were a vampire I'd suck his blood and I need my boyfriend to hold me down until I orgasm or pass out, whichever comes first, are inside thoughts, and you do a great job at keeping them as such.

So you're not quite sure what compels you to act the way that you do.

First, Jason's in clothes that don't help your insanity. The shirt is Dick's (Jason insists that he did NOT have an emo phase, thank you), so the cropped quality of the My Immortal t-shirt isn't by design. Jason's just big.

Yes, yep, your boyfriend sure is a big boy. That's all you can think about as you watch him over the top of your open book while he attacks the kitchen floor with his Swiffer Jet. He's humming a song you don't recognize.

You love him so much. The thought hits you square in the chest. You love Jason Todd. A lot. A lot a lot a lot.

The next thought that hits you is how soft and squishy your boyfriend is. Jason's sweatpants are baggy, the baggiest he could find, and they still can't hide how humongous his thighs are. His thighs are pure muscle, but when not in the middle of a fight, they are soft. Bitable. Very bitable.

Your gazes moves to the strip of belly that flexes and flutters with every movement. Jason's stomach isn't perfectly flat, a fact that you know sometimes bothers him. You take care to treat it delicately, not wanting him to be self-conscious even though every part of him makes you rabid.

You want to kiss Jason's stomach. Feel it twitch under your hand as you do, uh... other stuff besides kissing. You love watching Jason in action, love watching him wield his powerful body. But you also love him like this: using his body to take care of himself, his space, and you.

Jason's arms. You could write prose poetry on such magnificent creations. More than once you've had the urge to wrap one of Jason's arms around your neck and let him squeeze until you lose consciousness. Another inside thought! Jason would staunchly refuse and probably get you checked for head trauma if you requested such a thing, but you can dream.

Once or twice, Jason's flexed for you, silly and smiley. You've managed to hide just how fucking hot you found it. It's been well over a year and you still want to jump your boyfriend. You try to keep it to a manageable level, not wanting to startle or overwhelm him. You know Jason's complicated relationship with his body. You respect his boundaries.

But still, the thoughts linger...

Your feet carry you to the kitchen before you can think about it. Jason's done with the mop and has moved to wiping the counters. You seize the opportunity to get behind him.

"Hey, baby," Jason says before you reach him. He keeps wiping. And that's another thing: Jason is highly competent. His training makes him hear you before you've reached him. If you were an evil goon, you'd be on the floor before you could inhale. You also find that concerningly hot.

You stick yourself to his back and wrap your arms around his stomach. You grab handfuls of the layer of fat that covers his muscles, brushing your thumbs over where his hair thickens below his bellybutton.

"What's up, hm?" Jason asks, patting your hand.

"You're really hot," you say.

He snorts, glances behind at you. "I'm what now?"

"Hot. Juicy. I wanna maul you."

"Is that so?"

"Yeah," you say peacefully, groping his waist. "Soon as possible."

"I'm free for a mauling in ten minutes. That work for you?"

"I don't know if I can wait that long." You slip your hands up his shirt. "Mind if I feel you up while I wait?"

Jason laughs but it comes out a little airy. "You're a menace."

"I'm crazy about you."

"Mm, I've noticed. Feeling's mutual."

"No, no." You move your head so that your mouth is on his exposed bicep. You feel the hot flesh in your mouth, lave your tongue over it for some time. As soon as it flexes, you bite the hard muscle.

Jason drops his dishcloth. You soothe your teeth marks with your tongue.

"You don't understand," you say, shifting so you're pressing Jason against the counter edge. He lets you keep him there. "I'm crazy about you. I wanna eat you, Jay. Let me eat you."

"Jesus, what's gotten into ya?" he asks, turning his head to look at you.

"Hopefully you," you say, unrepentant.

Jason's eyes widen. You adore how squirmy he gets whenever you're bold about wanting him. Despite how long you've known each other, Jason never fails to get flustered. Perhaps that's half the fun.

"C'mon, Jay, let me fuck you. I wanna fuck you on the kitchen floor," you say, past coyness.

He full-body shudders. "I jus' cleaned."

You grin against his arm, pawing at his hip. "I'll help you mop again, honey pie. Deal?" You're eyeing his stomach next, ready to suck his skin there.

Jason can't deny you for long. You both know that.

"You're persuasive," he says, eyelids fluttering.

You hum. "Didn't take much, though, did it? Is your dick hard already?" You squeeze him through his sweats. Jason whines, bracing himself against the counter. "Never takes long, huh? You're always ready for me in no time, stud. Ready to fill me up, right?"

"Oh m'God," he says, looking at you like you're divine. That look swells your ego every time.

"Is that a yes?" You cup his balls like you're choosing a bull for breeding. Jason buckles under your brazenness. "Yes, you want me to let you fuck my pussy? Yes, you want me to fuck you on the floor?"

"Yeah, yeah, please."

So Jason lets you push him down onto the tiles. You yank his sweats down first, then his underwear. He's already leaking onto his stomach.

"Fuck," you say, grabbing and holding Jason's wrists on either side of his head. "You gonna give me what I want, sweetie? Love of my life, handsomest guy I've ever seen?"

Jason nods vigorously. "Yeah, yes, an-anything y'want. Oh my God, I'm s-so hard. I love you. Y'so nice to me."

You smile gently.

"I'm nice for taking you on the kitchen floor, huh?" you ask, bending your knees and lining up his cock to your cunt. "What if I make you wait until I come first?"

Jason nods again, already breathing hard. "I want to, I wanna wait. You should come first. I want you to come first. I don't have ta come at all."

You raise an eyebrow. That's new. New, but not unwelcome.

"So even when I..." You sink down on his cock, just the tip. Jason whimpers in the back of his throat. "Do that? You don't need to come?"

You feel him flex under your hands but he's good and stays put. He doesn't break your hold even though he could. You grin.

"Oh-oh. Sweet boy. My best guy. Look at you, big and hard. You could take me if you wanted, but you don't want that, do you? You want me to take what I want from you. All that muscle and strength, but what d'you need, Jaybee? Hm? Tell me."

"Need you," he says, voice strained. "Need you to do whatever y'want."

You kiss under his jaw and dig your nails into his wrists. Then you sink further onto Jason's cock. His hips twitch but he doesn't thrust like he usually does.

"Will you kiss me?" he asks when he bottoms out, body strung tight like a bow.

"I did kiss you," you say, smiling into his neck.

"On th'lips," Jason says, fingers shaking. "Please? Please."

You thread your fingers with his to steady them. Then you lean in to kiss his mouth. Jason moans, greedily kissing you back. You begin to move. Jason's shoulders tense.

"You're so perfect," you say against his lips. "You'd be so perfect at knocking me up. Any time I wanted, you'd be hard and ready to come in me, right?"

"Ah-ah," Jason says, voice wrecked. "Y-yeah, yeah. As much as y'want. Do anything y'want. I'd do anything."

"Yeah, I know," you say, grunting as you slide back onto him. "I know, sweetheart. Pretty boy. Y'dunno what you got with this fat cock. Can barely speak when your dick's wet."

You do a particularly hard grind and growl against Jason's sweaty throat. You lick the salt from his Adam's apple, feel it bob against your tongue. Then you bite.

"Oh, oh," he whines, and your gut tightens further at his sounds.

"Don't come," you snarl, pussy like a vice. "I come first."

Jason shakes his head, lips parted. His pulse throbs against your mouth. "No, no, won't. I won't. I'm good. I'll be good. 'M I good?"

You pet his hair, voice softening. "You're good, Jason. So good, baby. So good that I gotta take you right here on the floor. You understand, right? I was aching over there, watching you. I had to fuck you. Had to use your big dick for something."

"Uh-huh," he says, voice wet and sticky with pleasure. "Y'had to. I can do it. I wanna be good for you."

He looks up at you, and you're struck again by your difference in size, and how easy Jason gets when he's inside of you. You feel that familiar tightness, the edge of your impending orgasm.

"Rub my clit," you say, letting go of his right hand, and Jason obeys instantly, locating and deftly rubbing your clit.

"Harder," you tell him, and he rubs harder. Your mouth falls open as the pleasure swells. "Yeah. This is what you're made for. Pleasing me."

One of these days, you'll broach the subject of Jason putting those muscles to good use and fucking you doggy-style, whining in your ear as he shoots load after load into you.

"I'm gonna come," you say, cunt tightening. "Are you gonna come?"

Jason shakes his head desperately. "No. No, no, y'said not to. Not gonna come!"

"A-are you sure?" you ask, grinning as Jason makes uh-uh's in the back of his throat.

"Won't come, I promise, won't come," he says, near tears.

You come, tightening hard around Jason's cock. He nearly howls, the corners of his eyes wet, tendons pulled taut in his neck.

But he doesn't come, true to his word.

Sloppily, you kiss him. Jason kisses you back, but it's frenzied. You know his brain must be soup with the effort it's taking to not come.

"Look at you," you say, gaze hungrily roving over Jason's swollen nipples, his red face, his drawn eyebrows. "You listened so well. Y'wanna touch me? Wanna hold me?"

Jason nods frantically. "Yeah, yeah, please, baby, please, can I?"

"Go ahead, sweetheart. Hold me how you want and make yourself come. Don't be gentle."

Jason hesitates at the last direction. "Don't be gentle? Are y'sure?"

You pinch his nipple lightly. Jason bucks his hips. Your eyes narrow.

"I'm sure. Gimme everything you got, big guy."

You bite your lip as Jason's body comes alive, strength kicking in as he draws your thighs up over his hips, plants his feet, and drives into you. He punches the air out of you with each thrust, sobbing as he does. You hold on to his arms as he moves.

It only takes him a few thrusts before hot cum fills your pussy. Your eyes roll back at the feeling, nails scratching Jason's biceps.

"I want more," you say, grinding shallowly against his cock. Jason cries out, and more cum fills you.

"Was that good?" Jason asks, holding you closer.

You grin. "We're definitely doing that again."

Except, maybe not right after Jason's cleaned. You're not that mean.

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Throwback

Male Triceratops Hybrid Alpha Yandere x Gender Neutral Capybara Hybrid Omega Reader

CW: Noncon, painful to pleasureable sex, mild violence (not towards reader), time travel, sexism, breeding, impregnation, pheromones, a/b/o, musk, scent marking, scent kink, sucking on dem big man titters, biting, bite marking, claiming, exceptionally huge dick, reader inflated with copious cum, knotting

Word Count: 1.9k

(Sometimes I get stuck on WIPs and have to do something new to write again. I wrote this in two days. Hope y'all like it! Please feed me with comments ❤️)

You were an omega demi-human. Part capybara, though the only evidence of this was your soft ears. More importantly, you were a quantum physicist. Currently, you were studying and recreating what you thought to be a time travel device. Your thoughts and theories had been dismissed entirely by your peers. It didn't help at all that you were an omega. Omegas working in academia were almost universally harassed, derided, and treated with condescension. As if their omega brains couldn't work at the same level as betas and alphas.

But even if it wasn't some type of device for traveling through time it was certainly alien to the time period from which it originated. It was made of advanced alloys and components that had been flattened, buried, and heavily corroded over time. The rock in which it was embedded in was older than any ancient society.

You had been working on manufacturing a functional copy of the artifact for years. Shmoozing up eccentric rich fucks, getting help from the exceedingly few colleagues who would help you in any way, slowly analyzing every detail and carefully bringing it all together. And at long last it was complete. The zenith of your career was at hand. And after some cautious testing that you conducted privately, it was ready to show to others.

You managed to get a spot at a small conference, though you had lied about the subject on which you would be speaking, and by the time it was your turn most of the audience had left. Not many academics cared what an omega had to say. Let alone one with a reputation for being a crackpot. But there were still enough of your fellow scientists and this would all be on video.

Instead of introducing the topic of your presentation, which would be a surefire way to lose what people were still watching, you opted for wheeling out your machine onto the stage and stepping in. With a deep breath, you booted it up and the entire contraption disappeared with a flash.

When you exited the machine there was an immediate problem. You stepped out of the machine into a forest with giant trees and flowers. You had only intended to go back a minute to when your presentation started but had made an error. You turned around to step back in but something pulled you backwards by your rear. You fell back and saw before you a humongous man charging at your time machine. He wore only a ragged fur loincloth and swung a massive club. He looked human except for his size, thick tail, scaled arms, and three horns on his head. One large horn from each temple and a small one extending from my nose.

You looked on in horror as he swung a mighty club down upon your only way back to your own time, repeatedly smashing it down until it resembled the exact shape of the artifact that had been excavated in your time. The relic that you had fashioned your own machine after. That wasn't what your attention was on, however. You were much more focused on getting away from the raging beast of a man who could flatten metal so easily.

Though with his task of destroying the frightening affront to nature that had appeared from nowhere now complete, he turned his attention to you. He shouted at you in a language you didn't understand, though his intent was clear. He had a massive erection sticking out from his loincloth and aggressively sniffing at your neck after picking you up with unexpected care.

With exertion of great willpower, the trike-man managed to not breed you silly right there in the forest. Your pheromones were driving him nearly feral. Modern-day omega pheromones were many times more potent than any prehistoric omega. They had evolved through millennia to pique the interest of choosy alphas despite the steep competition, an evolutionary arms race to try to snag an alpha.

That wasn't the only appealing trait. You were exotic, had cute little furry ears on your head, and you were so small, couldn't fight back and act all defiant like the omegas from his time.

You did struggle though. You had seen his arousal and could still smell it. Almost anything would be better than being violated in such a manner by such a hulking brute. He chuckled at your struggles, they were successful only in tiring you out. On the long way to his lair, between your squirming, kicking, and punching, you had gathered that his name was Orryg. At least you thought it was. He did not speak English, but he gestured at himself and seemed to be trying to give you his name.

He found your struggles kinda cute, mistaking them for an eagerness to escape his grasp and get on with taking his cock already. Omegas were so silly.

"Don't worry. Going to breed you plenty. Better in a secluded place."

You had no idea what he said, but his voice was deep and sounded angry so you could only assume it was something in annoyance at your struggles so you went limp. The giant man could snap you like a twig if he wanted to, best not to make him too upset. And honestly, even if you did escape, where the fuck would you go? What if Orryg wasn't the worst thing prowling about in the time period?

The walk went on for a while, with Orryg giving you an occasional lick or mumbling out some words you didn't have any hope of understanding. After a fair amount of time, Orryg stopped to sniff the air. Suddenly there was a roar from behind.

Orryg turned the two of you around just in time for him to take his club and smack it into a man who was every bit as huge as he was. Swatting him away easily despite being similar in size and build.

This one had sharp teeth and clawed fingers. He spat blood and growled. Orryg regarded him with a scowl.

"Udvik! You know this is trike territory!!"

"Omega smells good, not claimed yet. Thought I'd try..."

"Go before I smash you! This is MINE!"

Udvik spat again and hobbled off. But your suspicions had been confirmed, there were definitely things other than Orryg to be worried about in this time period. You were pretty shaken up seeing a half-dino man jumping at you and watching your captor fight him off. With those teeth it had clearly been no herbivore, it probably would have slaughtered you. Your fear must have been evident in your scent because Orryg held you tighter and nuzzled you.

"That battle got my blood flowing, really need to fuck you. Sorry if it scared you, I'll breed you all better. Almost home."

You continued to have zero idea what the hell he was saying. But you figured with the nuzzling it was something comforting. Though your ability to figure anything out was pretty absent by this point. Your brain was soup. All the anxiety and adrenaline and alpha pheromones had finally gotten to you. You looked at the ground in a stupor as he continued to carry you over his shoulder.

The next thing you were consciously aware of was him entering the cave with you and placing his club at the entrance. He laid down on a slab of stone covered in thick layers of soft furs and placed you on top of his muscled body. Before you had any chance to react he began administering attention to your sensitive neck. You squirmed involuntarily, writhing in pleasure on top of him from the neck stimulation alone.

If that wasn't enough, you were practically drowning in his musk. You had been since you entered his dwelling, the cave was saturated in it, but now he was forcing your head under his arm and making you drink it all in. Smearing your face with it and marking you with his smell. Slick was leaking out of your needy hole and pooling on his abs.

"I knew this would make you feel better."

The trance you were in was only partially broken once you felt the blunt head of his much too-large member press against your hole.

"W-wait! I don-"

But he had no idea what you were saying, and even if he did he knew you'd love his dick so much that you wouldn't protest for long. At this point, you were going to be his... no matter what.

You yelped in pain as he pressed into you, spreading you like none of your toys ever had. He swallowed your shout by pressing his mouth into yours, trying to distract you from the pain with a sloppy kiss before attending to your neck again. Despite every instinct telling him to just ram in and ravage you he restrained himself knowing that doing otherwise could seriously injure you.

"Ah!"

Even with his care it still hurt as he slowly eased his prick all the way into you, he rubbed the outline of his cock through your tummy. Lucky for you omegas were extremely stretchy and pliant.

Orryg slowly thrust back and forth inside you as he hungrily took in your scent. As more precum dribbled into you and mixed with your slick you took him easier and the pain slowly began to ebb away and was eventually replaced almost entirely by pleasure. You moaned softly into his chest as you bit at his pec and sucked his nipple while he kept digging his cock into you.

Your whole body shook and spasmed for a solid minute as you came more intensely than you ever had before. Orryg grunted as the feeling of your body convulsing around him brought him nearly to his climax. The trike man upped the pace just a bit, his heavy balls smacking into you before he started knotting inside you and pumping you full of his virile spunk. One small mercy was that his knot was only a bit thicker than the rest of his cock, not over two times as wide like a modern alpha.

The volume of semen was such that it made you look heavy with child, which you certainly would be after lovemaking like this.

Now that you had been well and truly fucked there was only one thing left for your brand new "husband" to do to really seal the deal. He, with great caution, buried his fangs into your neck to mark you permanently as his to everyone who might see you. Which would be more than you might expect. This was Orryg's outpost, he stayed there while on patrol, but he usually lived with his herd.

It would be a hard adjustment for you to make. You would constantly be under Orryg's watchful gaze or the guard of his tribemates when he went to go hunt or if he went to do things too dangerous for you to be with him. You'd never be alone. Even in the safety of the herd, Orryg would obsessively treat you like something fragile. You would have to adjust your diet to what they ate, mostly fruit and vegetables though they ate meat too, though nothing was familiar to you. You would have to slowly learn their language so you could eventually communicate with the new society that "adopted" you.

But it was okay if it took you a while to get settled, you had all the time in the world.

[washeduphazbin]

Hello! I really loved the Adam x Reader Wife interaction hehehe reminds me too much of the dialogue: -You're an Idiot. -Yes... But I'm YOUR idiot... And forever 😌 Can we see a little more of this relationship?

You ABSOLUTELY can because it's the only thing on my mind since writing it. This will mostly be snippets of fluff between Adam and a female reader from my last one-shot. This is much shorter, but I wanted to give more of this dynamic before I work on a bit of a longer request someone sent in for them during the finale.

TLDR: Welcome to the Adamverse

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

"So this absolute cunt really thought it'd be okay to take one look at me and suggest that those Losers in hell can really make it into heaven and be redeemed!" You hummed as Adam sat with his head in your lap, complaining about his musical meeting with Charolette Morningstar. He looked up at you through his black lashes with a pout on his lips; you very clearly weren't paying attention. You had a book in your hands, which was taking more of your attention than Adam was taking up.

Now, that was something he couldn't let happen.

Your book was thrown halfway across the room in one swift movement, "Adam." You huffed, looking down at his innocent face, twirling his brown hair around his finger.

"Reading will rot your brain." He brought a clawed hand to his head and made a crazy motion against his temple.

"Pretty sure you've got that backward, darling." You felt his wings shiver under your touch as you stroked them tenderly, finally giving him your undivided attention. He stretched out in your lap like an oversized cat; Adam hummed pleasantly,

"Readings for losers, and my wife is not a loser." He shot back, yelping as you tugged on one of his feathers. "You bitch, the fuck was that for!"

"You seem to forget how much your bitch wife loves to read fuckhead." You shot back with a dirty look,

"Jesus, what's got your panties in a twist! I'm the one who had a rough day. First, I got blue balled and couldn't get to finish inside your sweet pus, and then I had to go to the most painful meeting of my life with the biggest doe-eyed fool I've met since her father. Now my wife is ignoring me when I'm clearly in distress." He watched in amusement as you tossed your head back with a sigh; you...his favorite winner. You caught the softer look in his eyes as you glanced down at him,

"Adam, you know I love you more than anything."

"I'm aware of how great I am, yes- if you keep giving me those bedroom eyes, I'm not going to be able to hold back."

"Glaring Adam. I'm glaring at you. I in no way want to fuck you right now."

"Impossible. No one ever glares at me AND no one ever doesn't want to fuck the fuck master; I'm a goddam delight, sugar."

He watched you take a deep breath of air in, "You did not just call yourself the 'fuck master.'"

"Ugh, duh, of course, I did. I am the fuck master. I've never heard you complain about this dick babe."

"You're an idiot."

"Ugh, duh. But I'm your idiot, forever." He mused, wiggling his fingers with his wedding ring on it. "Because you're gross, and you love me,"

"Unfortunately."

"HEY!" He sat up, brows furrowing in frustration. His jaw was set in a way you only recognize as a moment of slight panic and stress. "The fucks that supposed to mean?" You sucked in a small intake of breath, cupping his cheeks between your palms. He glared at you but still nuzzled against the soft palms of your hands.

"Darling." You spoke softly, moving to rest your forehead against Adam's, "I love you. I wouldn't want to be with any other person in heaven, hell, or on earth." His eyes softened, and you could see his face drop, "You're annoying as hell. But so am I; that's like our thing." You gave a crooked grin, nuzzling your nose against his, only to nuzzle his nose right back against yours. "I love you and that you're trying to keep everyone here safe and protected."

"I am; I want to keep you safe. You don't belong down there with them, and they don't belong here with us." He nodded rapidly, "You're so...good."

"You're giving me far too much credit, I didn't do drugs, and I didn't kill anybody when I was alive. I wasn't like a saint."

"You're a saint to me." You felt your cheeks burn, and you hit Adam gently with your wings; you saw his face light up and snicker. "What? You are. My saintly wife," You let out a strangled sound of embarrassment as he began to pepper kisses against your face. "Who's so good at praying on her knees-"

"And you ruined it." Adam tossed his head back in a laugh, pulling you close to his chest. You hummed as he nuzzled his face into your breasts, “Adam?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”