#hello reader

[picturebookshelf]

Big Red Apple (2000)

Story: Tony Johnston -- Art: Judith Hoffman Corwin

[bluboothalassophile]

Good point about Elijah reconnecting to his humanity via the squishy members of the family! :) He does tend to welcome those members in before anyone (Hayley, Hope, Marcel, Freya, even Davina herself!), I'm glad he started acting like a brother Kol deserved.

I personally think that a lot of the Mikaelsons' dysfunction comes from the fact that they're all somehow insanely committed to misunderstanding each other, hiding their true selves from each other and simultaneously thinking they all know each other best, on top of scheming against each other. I honestly think Klaus and Kol know most (not all of them!) members of the family best, but Kol is discreet about it where Klaus is so loud about it that you miss when he's actually right because he's wrong about like everyone else outside of his family or doing something to be an asshole, lol

I am a personal believer in not staying around family who abuses you and I see both Klaus and Elijah as Kol's abusers to a degree (frankly, everyone in the family except Marcel, Davina, Keelin and Hayley are) so I have always been a "hell yeah, kolvina can run away and live their life" kind of guy, but I was glad that even Klaus started changing his tune for Kol (I still think Klaus needs to get his head out of his ass most times, but I wanted more from them in canon. As hostile as they were, they also seemed to be the most physically affectionate with each other of Kol's brothers, and I take every Kol hug I can get). I thought it was so cute when he hugged Davina after he got arrested!

Thank you for such a lovely story!

Hello,

Elijah does have a soft spot for the squishier members of his family and is more accepting of their mortality and fragility than Klaus or Rebekah are. However, it did make it easier for Elijah to reconnect with Kol when Kol became mortal, they were tolerant of one another as immortals, but once Kol became mortal again it did shift the dynamic. Kol is, inarguably, more dangerous as a witch than vampire, but he's also more vulnerable, and Elijah has a soft spot for his mortal family members that exceeds what care he gives the immortal ones. I always thought it was unfair that the Originals couldn't connect with one another, but Kol being mortal did even the playing field for them.

I think that you're partially correct, they were committed to the mental images and understandings they had formulated, but they had over a thousand years of being together and that's bound to bungle up relationships. Also, throw in a familial trauma of being forced to become abominations in the eyes of the natural world, without support or guidance or compassion, it's amazing they didn't wipe out humanity. The Mikaelson siblings went through a lot of shit, and not all of it was bad, but it did mold their bonds in unhealthy ways. It was compounded though because they were dysfunctional before immortality, and as we learnt in TVD, vampirism just makes you more of who you already are, and time warps that. So they were warped after a thousand years of dealing with one another and their already complex dynamics.

Klaus is loud about what he understands, he always thinks he's 'top dog' so to speak, and immortality and invulnerability only inflated his sense of self-importance and ego when he's driven by his insecurities and fears. It made him an insufferable man child, and it did not help that when he was mortal he was coddled even as a grown man. That said, Klaus does have a deep understanding of people and those around him, and that understanding has given him an arrogance about dealing with others and his family, and that arrogance made him loud. He's certain in his judgements and his tactics, and if they fail him, well... he's invulnerable, what can his opponents actually do against him if he's wrong?

Kol on the other hand is quieter, he's flashier because he's willing to let people make a mistake around him and then capitalize on that mistake, whether it's his siblings or enemies. But the trade off is, Kol is 'the Worst of the Worst' and the 'Wildest of [the Mikaelsons]' and everyone is always trying to move ahead of him, because the only way you're going to beat him is by surprise. It's everyone's lack of understanding him that gave him the edge and made him the worst of the Mikaelson. That said, Kol's understanding of his family, and their connections and natures was always more discreet and quieter, because he was always trying to make them understand him and felt it was a failing on everyone because they lacked the connections. Kol lacked the understanding that those lack of connections were driven by his own envious views on his family's 'better bonds' and feeling excluded.

Everyone in the Mikaelson family is an abuser and abused, they are so beyond fucked up that it's pretty clear that the only reason they haven't killed each other is because they can't die. And leaving an abuser, whether it's a parent, partner, sibling, or friend, it's not easy, it's terrifying to strike off on your own when the devil you know is comforting because you know that one, you can predict it, move around it, manipulate it. The devil you don't know is far more terrifying with that in mind. So, leaving sometimes is the most difficult, terrifying decision, and for the Mikaelsons, it's also hard to do because literally no one else is going to understand the shit they've gone through. They're a thousand years old. They were born as Vikings. They have cultural standards and expectations that are no longer in practice or believed or understood, they've witnessed the best and worst of history, they've been hunted and hunters, tormented and tormentors, and they've outlived everyone that they've connected with. It's HARD to leave when no one else can understand that weight, it's easy to say you should when you're on the outside looking in, but it's hard to do when the outside has fucked you over before and the abusers around you are something you know, love and can predict.

Klaus is an insufferable man child, he needed his head ripped out off his ass resewn on his neck, and whacked with an ACME anvil and ACME safe before he might actually learn something. Fucking immature childish ASS! But Klaus canonically did have the biggest change for Kol, but that's because we're seeing the show from primarily Klaus' perspective, it's about Klaus and his evolution to become a semi-decent father for a daughter he did not want or intend to create. We're watching the show knowing Klaus will get his comeuppance and that's what drives the fucking plot unfortunately. The show is told from Klaus' perspective so of course it will be favorable for Klaus' growth. The Originals is not as Mikaelson focused as you think when you watch the show for growth and change, because everything is primarily focused on Klaus. Klaus though does need to grow and change, and it's important for him to learn to connect with his family.

A good portion of the reason I ended the story with Kol and Davina in the Armillary Sphere was because they always had the vibe of running away together.

[a-weeb-about-paleocontinents]

I used to suck agar agar through my teeth like an Atopodentatus.

Eating that algae socially inept style.

[syluses]

separation anxiety

⤷ caleb experiences a rut after a long time, and it just so happens that you’re in his path.

cw. 18+ smut, hybrid! caleb, knotting, dubcon if you squint, breeding, obsessive/possessive behavior, perv caleb, fem human! reader, ruts, size difference, also a lil breeding, 3.5k words because i physically struggle to write smut without a preamble, reader is ovulating and it triggers his rut this time for whatever reason

an. saw this trope going around & wanted to try it <33 he’s got that DAWG in him 💪 also i cant decide if hybrid caleb gives german shepherd vibes or samoyed vibes…. that moments post lives rent free in my mind tho idk (>_<)

𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔, 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔, & 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅! (๑´ `๑)♡

Caleb would say he hates you for the time you’re gone, but it’d be a big fat lie. His love for you, big and bursting in his chest, deepens in the quiet windows where you’re present at work or running errands throughout Linkon before returning home to him.

There’s a permanence of you in his mind and being. He wants it no other way.

His devotion for you doesn’t necessarily drown him- no, you’re always there with a lifering waiting- but it certainly sweeps him up and threatens to.

He gets a bit ahead of himself sometimes, he’s aware of that; energetic, bulging at the seams with vigor; whether it’s an integral part of his personality or just a consequence of his breed, the pound he came from never quite knew. Your Gran never figured that out, either, and for as sweet and trying as she was, she soon realized she couldn’t foster him for long.

Because he was a big boy, hungry for attention and wired to please, well-meaning but oft over involved with personal space— and he brought a loaded package that your Gran just couldn’t sign her name off on, not after a few months, anyway. She tried her best before nudging him into your care, because she sure as hell wasn’t about to give him up to that squalid pound or the streets again- and besides, the mutt liked her granddaughter; all those visits she paid throughout the summer obviously endeared Caleb to her, and quickly.

You admit, it’s a mite difficult to juggle between long days at work, little tasks that drag you from point to point throughout Linkon, and your own personal life on top of caring for a hybrid stowed away in your shoebox apartment— but your grandmother was all but sapped of her energy then, turning to you for aid although she seldom ever did, and you’d always lend a hand where you could.

The mutt- Caleb, is his name (and you call it fondly even as he’s pawing at your thighs for attention or drooling on your collar)- has grown on you considerably in the past half year, anyway.

You won’t let him down or leave him at the curb. He’s yours. The red collar you bought him says as much, printed with your number on a silver plate, and he wears it not because you make him but because he’s proud of it.

He’s a good boy, he is. He always has been and for that you’re thankful.

Except, this week he’s… different.

As of a few days ago, it’s like he’s been testing the waters- and your patience- on just how far he can go before you tell him off or say bad dog. He must find them warm because he’s just been diving deeper as the week progresses.

You don’t know what to do. He’s oddly aggressive. It’s not rare at all for him to follow you all around your apartment, but he’s foregone the very last shred of respect for your personal space and nips when you try to push him away. Not hard enough to actually hurt- the yip you make is more surprised than anything when he pulls you back in and licks at the small red patch- but you look wounded at it.

Because Caleb doesn’t bite— he just doesn’t.

He wraps you up in seemingly endless embraces and breathes your smell in until he’s dizzy, laughing into your neck like a giddy child. He does this every time you try to leave for work and he’s made you late for it.

Maybe it’s just because you’re ovulating and a little hormonal, but it makes you quite sour and the mood stays even when you return in the afternoon. He’s never liked when you’re gone, sure, but he’s always been there to see you off at the door with a pout as you scratch behind his ear- more or less tame about it.

Your patience really frays at the odd uptick in his possessiveness, though. It’s hurtful.

You’ve always treated him less like a pet- a hybrid- and more like a friend, and you feel quite indignant for it when he growls and tells you that he hates the smell of other men on you, hearing none of your excuses that it’s ‘just coworkers’, glaring at you like some brainless extension of him. You feel less like a person and more like an object, a streetlamp in which he emerges from the shadows for just to piss on to show it belongs to him.

He’s touchy. Snippy. Glued to your side at all times. It’s concerning and frustrating and confusing all at once.

By the fifth day mark, on Friday night, you’re tuckered out by it and don’t question where he is when you return home early from a shift and he’s, uncharacteristically, not there to greet you.

A red collar however, laid on the floor, its tag glittering under dim hallways lights, strikes you as both curious and unsettling.

He never takes that off. No- says it’s his way of showing you and the whole world that he belongs to you, and— have you been too impatient with him lately? Brusque? Maybe you’re a little hormonal but it’s no cause to get short with him, even when he’s acting up, and what if he no longer wants you as his owner—

A gasp.

You find him in your bedroom, humping your pillow, yowling as he comes undone- unawares- and the walls spin as you nearly faint.

You drop your purse. “Caleb!” You shriek, and a visible shiver rolls down his spine as he turns around.

“Bad dog!”

✦

You sleep on it.

Well, you wash your sheet and your pillowcases- and then you sleep on it.

Maybe you overreacted. If anything, you should be grateful for what you walked in on because otherwise, he wouldn’t have known how to tell you he’s been going through a bit of a hot phase- the first of his you’ve experienced- and doesn’t know how to control himself.

You blush just thinking about it, shame knocking in your chest as your heart beats heavy. You feel awful for walking in on him for a number of reasons. One of them being he came all over your bed- and his tummy- and you had to clean both up through furious tears as you peeled your covers off the mattress and pointed him off in the direction of the bathroom, telling him to run the faucet and quick.

A pass of guilt, the fear of you being angry with him, made its round across his kicked expression but he held off on arguing.

For the first documented time in the whole week, Caleb appeared mellow- not agitated, restless, or tense- and rather crestfallen, and you noted it only vaguely as you irately turned on the washer.

Now, it’s in the forefront of your brain.

Well, if he’s been going through some kind of rut lately, it only makes sense he’d be all kinds of pent up, and that his release (albeit in an inconvenient way and place) would provide some relief.

It’s closer to noon when you finally exit your bedroom and meet him at the sofa- the same one you’d all but banished him to last night. He prefers to spend his nights with you, either curled up at your side or splaying his full weight over your back- a breed-relative habit, you’re sure. You’ve heard of some other kinds who enjoy a room to themselves or do just fine with the couch, on their lonesome— But not Caleb.

He looks tired but perks up when he hears you patter down the hall, violet eyes lighting when you timidly take a seat.

With a bit of hesitation, he inches closer until you sheepishly wave a hand and he barrels into your arms.

“Ah- Caleb-“

Before you can even apologize for your jumping the gun last night, he beats you to the punch. “M’ sorry. You don’t hate me for it, do you?” He sighs into your collar and you shiver, “I wish you could understand what it feels like- I wouldn’t have done it if it was somethin’ I could control, I hope you realize that.”

You swallow, digesting his words as you belatedly place a hand on his head to pet. He positively melts. “Y-Yeah,” you mumble back. “It’s okay. I actually wanted to say sorry too. I- I didn’t understand what was going on…”

A deep groan looses from his throat, his chest swelling with content as you itch that spot behind the furry ears say upright on his head. They give a few twitches as he leans against you and wraps his muscular arms around your middle, resting his chin by your shoulder.

“It’s my fault, though, not yours. I didn’t know how to tell you- I was worried you’d just end up scared’a me, or…”

His pause instills interest in you. Your fingers smooth back his brown locks, mussed from fitful sleep, and he sighs. “Or what?” You press softly.

You pull him back just enough to get a look at him, his cheekbones almost shiny with a dusting of pink. His thick brows furrow together.

“Or that you’d leave,” he whispers.

Your eyes widen. You lasso your arms around his neck and pull him to you, your head slotting above his shoulder as his fingers quickly move to support the position, one hand perched at your thigh and the other braced at your side.

“Nonsense,” you grumble at his ear, a bit angry at the suggestion. “I’d never leave you.”

Something hard, then, prods at your middle- too fleshy to be something in either of your pockets- and you stiffen at the realization as it comes a beat too late.

Caleb’s voice is breathy at your ear, low, his tail thumping on the cushion. “Yeah?” He murmurs, a pang of heat stirring in your belly at the sound. Suddenly aware, you gently go to push at his broad chest but he stops you with an imploring look- although the desire, brewing in dilated pupils, isn’t lost on you- and musters a pout.

It looks out of place, the wholesome gaze marred by hunger as it reshapes his puppyish look.

“Even when I am no better than a bad dog?”

Your brow quirks, “I didn’t mean it,” you whisper, wide-eyed as his eyes bore into yours. Every micro expression you make is being catalogued and noted with utmost care, his pink tongue darting out to wet his chapped lips as they grow dry.

“It’s okay if you did,” he murmurs back. “I’m just glad I have you around to remind me of my place…” Long, slim fingers reach up and you watch, unseeingly, as they stroke your cheek, his other hand creeping dangerously close to the waistband of your sleep shorts.

He chuckles, but the humor wanes quickly.

“Otherwise, I’d always be misbehaving. Do you even know what you do to me?” His voice is meaningful, torrid, as he draws in and the tip of his nose brushes with yours. You can’t find it in you to move as your thighs- the ones he slithers a singleminded hand in between- begin to roil with unexpected warmth.

You plant a hand to his chest, shying away, “C-Caleb-“

“Don’t worry,” he says sweetly, “M’ not gonna hurt you. I just….” He lets out a sigh, long and perhaps just a bit exaggerated- but it has the intended effect on you. You purse your lips and feel a trace of guilt twist in your heart.

“You drive me crazy. Y-Your smell- I don’t know why this is happening, either. Honestly? I haven’t had a rut in a couple years. But this…”

Caleb lets out a soft noise of pleasure, lending his full weight to you when he breathes you in and shakes.

When he speaks next, his words come out raspy and so low you hardly register them as his breaths grow labored- they’re all you can hear as the living room space shrinks down to just him and the knuckles that dare to dip into your panties.

“This is just too unfair. You won’t leave me hangin’, pretty,… w-will you?” Breathy. With an undeniable streak of need. You can’t miss the lust that usurps the softer parts of him and makes him look less puppyish and cheerful and more wolfish, calculating.

And, well, when he puts it like that, how could you?

✦

He doesn’t fuck you on the couch. He takes you to your bed and fucks you there like a lover would.

He fucks you deep and fast- to his credit, he doesn’t hurt you, staying true to his word, but the possibility of bruises becomes a nearer thing when he folds your legs back and his grasp becomes constricting, plunging in and out of your cunt with rapt focus. Indigo eyes glow with something feral, like you’ve given him no choice but to claim his ownership over you through sloppy kisses and clinking teeth as he pounds into you, driven him into a corner- but his touch turns worshipful when he presses his forehead to yours and moans.

“Ah- y-you feel so good, so tight,” he compliments, words almost slurred. His pupils expand and he looks no different than a drunken, babbling man, his cheeks a rosy red.

His murmurs are wet against your lips as they graze and mush with his, Caleb’s face so close to yours that his lashes tickle your brow as he gawks at you, so entranced by whatever it is he’s seeing to look away.

A fluffy tail sways unevenly behind him and touches your leg on occasion, almost like it’s trying to curl around you, prickling and eager. Every part of him gravitates to you. You’re the ground beneath his feet. Fertile land.

“And you’re all mine, okay? Nobody else’s. I want you to wear my scent- to carry me with you no matter where you go. You have to promise me you will- mmph- That sound good-?

“C-Caleb—“

You groan when he stuffs himself deeper inside and you swear you feel his length throb inside your walls, stretching. The veins running along his shaft carve out a new pathway in you, one special and just for him, as his balls- heavy and fat, with a hell of a lot to give- slap against your ass. Slick oozes out from the squelching seam of you, coating his thick cock but you still struggle to accomodate his size despite the lubrication.

He’s made to make you feel as if you’re losing your mind. You snatch your jaw with your own hand to keep the flurry of high-pitched sounds from spilling out lest they embarrass you, but he shoos it away and cuffs your wrists with a hand splayed over them.

“Nah- I wanna hear you, baby. You can’t keep holdin’ out on me like this... I’m giving you my all right now, so it should be pretty obvious that you can do the same, yeah?”

A mewl punches out from your lungs half a second later and he seems quite contented at that. He sighs, closing his eyes, saying,

“I’ve been good all along. Can’t you play the part, too? I just want you to see how much I really love you,” his confession is by no means considered casual what with the passion in which its conveyed, but you can’t help but feel it’s a little sudden, said a little too quickly, and you wonder if he means what he says or if the rut is responsible for all these novel, amorous feelings in him.

I mean, he’s probably too wrapped up in the moment to even contemplate his own admissions as they all spew out—

“Caleb, too big—“ you gasp, cutting him off, and he lets out a strangled kind of noise when your walls clamp around him.

Holyfuck holyfuck holyfuck do it again, he wants to say, suffocate me, but nothing comes out and he realizes after a long second that his vision has whited completely. He can’t see anything; he’s in a fuzzy, dazzling world with the blinders on and all he can smell and feel is you- your scent, sugar sweet and about as inviting as a barstool pulled out, envelopes him and he can’t breathe. Can’t speak.

He fucks into you with reckless abandon, huffs you in like it’s his final breaths, and then lets it all go without care for anything else. Far as he’s concerned, everything he knows is defined by you. This is a give and take relationship: he actually gives a damn about your opinion of him and takes all you have to offer.

He’s in love, puppyish and clumsy but fuck you lead the way and lead him on.

“Shh, I know,” he rasps out, steaming up your neck like a fogged window pane as he insinuates himself there. Your whole body feels like a furnace, burning up for him as he opens you up and tucks himself inside.

“I know it’s big, but you gotta be ready for-“ he clips his sentence short, thinking better of it.

He wants to warn you of his impending knot- the one that’ll no doubt leave you yelping and writhing away from him- you certainly deserve as much of a foreword to it, but part of him is just so terrified you’ll reject him or deny him the priviledge of shoving it inside you and fuck he can’t have that.

Caleb’s nothing if not loyal. He’s also nothing if not selfish. That’s always been a wriggling bug he’s tried to stomp out but it remains in the baser part of him, only amplified by the intense rut that came right out of the blue.

He wants you singing his name and bonded to him (or as much of a bond the two of you can form), and so that’s what he’ll get.

He’ll apologize later, and you will forgive him. So all’s fine.

“Y-You can take it,” is the simpler thing he settles on, and you let it pass, because between the fat cockhead splitting you apart deliciously and the sweet, somewhat perturbing nothings he gushes at your ear, you’re deaf to most of everything.

But when you come- unexpected and sharp, overwhelming your senses as your hips ruck up and he has to pin you down in place and ride it out with you as you cream around him- the scream you let out rings in your ears and so does his ferocious grunt. It’s loud and you’re so numb as seconds pass that feel like eons; pointed teeth teasing at the squishy chunk of your shoulder, invoking a buried sense of alarm.

And then he’s biting down hard- not just nipping- the pleasure thankfully driving off the pain as he ploughs inside, muffling a string of curses as he picks up his pace. Caleb gets sloppier and sloppier and then he’s burning white-hot inside you and moaning like a pornstar, pelvis juddering as he comes.

“Mmh- f-fuck- Good girl!” he rewards with half a brain, fucked out into perfect oblivion, and for a second you wonder why his voice sounds more meant for comfort than praise- until you expect him to pull out but he doesn’t, something big and round forming at the base of his cock that has his eyes fluttering back as it pops in. He goes boneless on top of you as every limb of yours stiffens and coils around his broad back.

You scream his name. He shivers.

It feels enough to shatter your mind- the pain searing you, but the ghost of pleasure that creeps up along your nervous system makes you go like jelly beneath him, helpless to whatever he’s got planned for you.

“C-Caleb, you-!”

“Yeah, a bad dog, a bad dog,” he stammers, whimpering at your earlobe, “I know, baby, I know. Just- don’t shut me out, okay? I- It’ll be over soon, just- ah- loosen up around it, okay? It’ll feel so much better that way. Just… hold on to me.”

“I-It hurts-!”

“Ngh, shhh…” He trembles out, shifting to sample a broken mewl from your lips, cupping your jaw with all the love in the world and staring at you as if you told the sun to rise this morning. “Be a good girl and take it, mm? Your pussy’s squeezing me so tight, I think she wants it too, but she has to relax a little first, yeah? Mm… I could give you a whole litter of pups. Give your Gran a bunch of cute lil granbabies to drive her crazy.”

You choke on your own spit, the brunet letting out a near delirious chuckle at the idea and your reaction to it before his brow gives a wince, your walls instinctively trying to push his swollen knot out.

“Wha- Caleb, is that even-?”

“I don’t know,” he kisses your forehead tenderly, his tail giving a heavy, excited thump behind him on the bed as you grab the sheets for dear life and they wrinkle, pinched like your conflicted expression.

“But I’ve been dyin’ to try it out for myself.”

[shotmrmiller]

ghost who always have a grey, heavy, uninterested air about him but one day he comes to work, and he's got something behind his ribs clawing to be let loose. his teeth are clenched, his eyes sharp. his orders bite harder, his patience runs thinner, and the recruits feel it but don't understand it.

and it's all because you couldn't lie back and get eaten out like every other morning. it was routine. ingrained. automatic. ghost slips under the covers, dips his head between your thighs, and laps at your sex until you leave the mess he loves best— the slick, saturated spot he'd sniff while still wet. (can't blame me, luvie. it's sweet.)

you'd gotten up, thrown your clothes on in a hurry, and had been out the door, keys in hand, before he could get a word in.

unacceptable.

(kyle later catches him and asks him if he skipped breakfast or something. not by choice is what ghost tells him.)

[lovelyghst]

poor simon settling for just the tip with his pretty girl late at night, having just gotten home from work and finding her sleeping soundly in their bed. he gently coaxes you awake, going against every nerve in his worn out body to let you rest, and he asks you so, so nicely.

begs, more like it, and you simply can’t refuse.

with your sweet permission, he slicks up his cockhead and eases it into your little hole with some effort from the both of you, his eyes fluttering shut as he fights to maintain his promise. just the tip.

and he shows such good restraint for you! moaning through his clenched jaw as he slowly fucks the tip of his cock in and out of your pretty pussy, whining when the exposed length of his dick pulses from neglect. he’s sat back on his knees and heels with your hips pulled into his lap, not trusting his tired muscles enough for missionary. still, he can’t keep his hands off of you.

he may be desperate, but he couldn’t bring himself to hurt or force anything onto his princess. that would be the true death of simon riley. he even runs a gentle thumb over your swollen clit to make you melt into the pillows, urge those lovely little noises from your lips, the same ones he’s been hearing in his daydreams while he’s at work.

they make his dick throb, the seasoned soldier’s hand trembling as it soothes over your lower tummy. gosh, he missed you so much.

and you read it all on his face; how much he respects your wishes, but also how badly he needs relief. the slackened jaw, panting chest, droopy eyes heavy beneath furrowed brows. it makes you frown.

“simon,” you whine out softly, and his eyes snap up to meet yours. the look on your face makes him stifle a choked moan. “c’mere…”

you reach up as he leans forward for you and, to his surprise, you tug him in by his neck for a needy kiss. you wrap your legs around his lower back as best you can, locking them tight in the divot of pure muscle, and you reel him in closer.

consequently, the rest of his cock fully sheathes inside you and the sudden stretch makes you whimper out, him groaning loudly like a whore as he buries his heated face in your collar. christ, he fucking came just from one stroke of tight, wet warmth. and it feels so good, too good for him. he works hard, you think, he deserves it.

you giggle as you hold your baby close, let him catch his breath and grasp his settings before he rolls over, you held clasped in his arms.

he falls asleep in the matter of seconds, with his face in your chest and his dick in your cunt, like a good soldier. probably mutters some strained apology in between, even though you couldn’t be happier.

[xinganhao]

🍀 svt reacts to you calling them your ‘current’ boyfriend.

includes ─── humor/crack, fluff, one (1) joke about death, established relationship, reader is referred to as ‘girlfriend’, dramateen. ᯓ★ footnote ─── heyyy.. it’s me :-)!!! i’m a bit out of shape, so let me ease in a bit hehe.

› scroll through all my work ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ my masterlist | @xinganhao

[crsssie]

husband - professor!simon riley x professor!reader

Every now and then, Simon gets a student who doesn’t seem to get it past their skull that he’s happily married and not looking for a side chick or mistress.

He can usually tell in the first handful of classes, brow raised as they ask him to visit office hours, shirt peeking a little too low, smile a little too uncanny for his taste. He finds that typically as long as he plays uninterested and talk more about his wife, most of them learn to back down.

Now, occasionally, he gets a student who just doesn’t back down.

In those cases, he entertains the office hours, forcing you to stay back and lounge on the couch when they visit, extra affectionate with you when they walk in, ring on his finger extra polished and your matching one visible when you work.

You find it hilarious when you reach for his tea, lips around his straw as you continue to work on your research, drinking up the way his student’s eye twitches at his blatant displays of affection. You’re his “beloved” when the student walks in, and his “one and only” when they’re almost out of hearing range. You get a kiss when you walk him to class, and you peek into his class so much more to drop off drinks as long as the student doesn’t back down.

He refuses to hold an office hour with the student if you’re not available to hang around. He’d much rather be called a shitty professor than a shitty husband.

He can find another job. Not another you.

[tojisun]

cw: breeding kink (+ unrealistic sex)

oh ykw thinking about being in the depths of your desire one night when john’s fucking you that dirty talk just naturally froths from your curled lips; on your knees, head pillowed by your arms, you beg john to breed you. to fuck you pregnant. to cum in you until it takes. and john, he doesn’t know that it’s dirty talk. he doesn’t know that it’s a passing desire—maybe one day, sure, but not now—so he takes it seriously.

john fucks you like the two of you are trying, and who was he to think that you two aren’t? not after your sweet confession and your pretty please; not after you squirted so hard after he humped his cock in you and promised to plug you up so you can stay sloshing with his cum. it’s practically written in the stars now—he can’t envision anything else but you, swollen with his kid, all soft and warm and dependent on him.

god. it’s all what john ever wanted. and now, he’s stopping at nothing to see it come to fruition.

he fucks you so much; rutting and thrusting and filling you up until you swear you can taste him on the back of your throat. he slides in a plug every time he’s finished; you used to whimper in protest, but you’ve grown to love the weight of it and the stretch of it.

still, you don’t know what changed, just that it did. john’s too intense and the sex has become so overwhelming and he’s gone too clingy—“what’re you doing?” you ask, giggling as you watch him nuzzle his face on the soft of your belly. his beard tickles and you squeak, trying to get away, but john holds you steady, nosing at your skin. and it’s—

too much.

you don’t know what to feel, anymore. especially not when he plants a kiss just below your bellybutton and whispers something you couldn’t catch.

[lovegasmic]

hi ! i’m not sure if ur reqs are open but i was wondering if i could get a bff gojo x fem reader having sex for the first time even tho they’re just besties ^.^ i’m in love w bff gojo + i love ur writing !!

 BFF ! ( best friends who fuck )

⋆ mdni. cunilingus, pussy drunk Satoru, a bunch of praising, dirty talk and pet names like baby, princess, pretty, angel ‹3. ( nonie ily this idea made me scream for a good while and also thank you so so much ! im happy u like what I write 𖹭 ) and yes! my requests are always open

 ⋆ side note: it’s up to you to decide if they're virgins or not ajsgshsh I left that open to interpretation lol.

late night friday movies with Satoru where a must, cozy blankets covering your thighs and whatever it could from your best friend’s incredibly long legs propped up on the coffee table. what started with you both picking whatever cringe movie and attempting to watch through it, ended up with giggled remarks of the horrendous plot and terrible acting in the screen.

Satoru’s rambles over any minor detail were expected, what you did not expect was for him to suggest something completely unexpected, “have you thought about it?” he asks, a big chunk of ice cream down his mouth while pointing at the tv screen where the main two characters were currently passionately making out, “you and me?”

the saliva in your mouth chokes you for a brief second before turning your head towards the man with the cocky smile, “you’re kidding”

“i’m not” he speaks, remaining unbothered, eyes glued to the now clean spoon, “we’ve known each other since so long, don’t you think our sexual chemistry would be amazing?” Satoru smirks, now turning and leaning closer to your wide eyed face.

you couldn’t deny your best friend was incredibly hot, bright blue eyes and messy white hair with matching long eyelashes, he was ethereal and Satoru thought the same about you, he never admitted how fucking gorgeous you were but his continuous praises in the shape of petnames was, hopefully, enough for you to see.

“i don’t know...” you bite your lip, a slight tug on your belly making itself present at the closeness of him, subtly forcing you to lean back until your head laid on the armrest and Satoru’s body towered over yours.

“c’mon pretty, don’t get all shy on me” he rasps, “i bet i can make you feel so good, i know your cute body like no one else” and to be fair, he is right, multiple tickling fights have had you confessing your sensitive spots to Satoru, which now he attempts to use them for your pleasure.

you whine, low and almost inaudible, “promise our friendship won’t change” you reply, and it’s all Satoru needs, a strained ‘promise’ muttered before his lips crash on yours with a satisfied groan, his tongue is quick to meet yours, tangling and allowing the lewd sound of saliva and lips crashing resonate under the tv sound muffled in the background.

“haaa” he gasps once you break the kiss, hands eagerly pulling, squeezing and tugging on your skin and clothes until you’re laying naked under his body, Satoru’s quick to take off his shirt and toss it aside along with the mess of cloth in the floor, “you’re so sexy, baby, so fuckin’ gorgeous” it’s a dark murmur, sliding your panties down for his eyes to see the threads of slick connecting your folds and the fabric, a broken sound coming from his lips as if he just got punched in the gut.

“gonna make you feel so good, princess” Satoru speaks to himself, eyes glued on your cunt as he lays down between your legs, fingertips parting your glistening folds with a soft gasp, truth to be told, he’s never been so turned on in his whole life, “wanna eat your perfect cunt so bad” he shakes, slowly grinding his boxer clothed cock against the couch, a single hand coming up to squeeze your tits while his tongue took a tentative lick on your slit that made his eyes roll.

“fuck!” you both whimper at the same time, with Satoru’s mind reeling at the taste of you, driven by his lust and pulsing cock as he leans down and attaches his lips to your pussy, messily and desperately eating you out with his eyes crossing from pleasure, a couple groans expressed directly on your sensitive flesh.

“so good, baby, you taste amazing” Satoru slurs, holding onto your asscheeks and pulling you up slightly, on the perfect angle to make out with your cunt. the moans you let out are music to his ears, driving him to plunge his tongue deeper, squeeze your ass harder and moan louder.

“’Toru, i’m so close” you squeal, expecting for him to pull back, to let you catch a break but surprisingly, he just goes faster, the sounds of his tongue in and around your pussy only increasing, fueling you to squirm and tug on his soft hair until you’re spasming around his tongue with a broken cry.

yet his tongue doesn’t stop for another couple of minutes, allowing you to ride your orgasm and buck slightly, fucking yourself on his eager tongue, “you’re the sweetest thing i’ve ever tasted” he finally grunts, voice hoarse and eyes almost black by the lust etched in his brain, the spot under his hips sticky with the copious amounts of precum his twitching cock spurted, “you’re letting me fuck you now, right princess?” Satoru murmurs, not really expecting a reply before tapping your puffy clit with the glistening tip of his cock, eyes fully focused in the way your mixed juices stick to his cock with each soft tap.

then you nod slightly, a quiet “please”, followed by your hands on his hips and he’s inching inside of you, barely spreading your folds around his girth but Satoru already feels like he’s about to faint.

“a-ah, fuck...!” he groans, shaky fingers grasp your waist and the armrest above your head, and from where you laid you could see his abs clenching, chest heaving, eyes blurry and jaw slacked, letting out loud puffs of pleasure, absolutely fucked out. it takes his whole strength to bury the rest of his long cock inside your warm cunt, groaning like it fucking hurts, but in reality, the thing it hurts him is thinking why you haven’t fucked earlier. “you’re an angel, you and your heavenly cunt” it takes everything in Satoru as not to drool and pant like a dog, slowly and sloppily fucking into your warmth, his nails are probably ripping the leather of the couch but he doesn’t mind, hell no, his mind is fully absorbed and bordering on insanity at the feeling of you, “tell me how it feels” he begs.

“so good, ’toru” you whimper, eyes not certain if to see his fucked expression or look down to where his cock buries inside of you, coming out glistening by your dripping slick, “my pussy feels so good”

“fuck, baby!” his eyes close shut, a shudder running down his spine at your words, only encouraging him to go faster, the squelch of your cunt and his balls smacking on your ass growing, “that’s right, only i can make you feel this good, hm? no other boy you’ll sleep with will make you feel like this” he roars, “this pussy is made for me to claim and mold you to the shape of my cock” his thrusts are now erratic, panting so loud you’re unsure how he hasn’t choked yet, but the continuous smack of his tip on your g-spot makes you forget about anything else, mouth open and eyes crossed as you feel yourself cumming unannounced.

“oh, god, you’re cumming?” he sounds shocked, eyes widening and cock throbbing at the sensation of your cunt sucking on his length with each thrust, as if not wishing to let him go, “i’m so close, baby, so fuckin’ close” all you hear through the slight buzz on your ears is babbling, incoherent mumbling of Satoru speaking to himself, fucking himself stupid on your pussy before, much against his wishes, pulling out of your warmth and shooting thick ropes of hot cum on your chest, some even landing on your chin by how hard you made him cum.

in the blink of an eye his lips are on yours again, shakily and way too messy for you to follow through the limp state where he left you, but don’t worry, Satoru will help you increase your stamina too, and perhaps, you’ll let him cum inside next time.

[picturebookshelf]

Pizza Party! (1994)

Story: Grace Maccarone -- Art: Emily Arnold McCully

[bluboothalassophile]

"the laws of the universe say the man i love is lost to me. i say; watch me save him." is a very kolvina quote to me

Hello,

It's very them, very much them given the lengths they'll go to for the other.

[honehonn3honey]

Sillykuna lol

[nekokoa8]

One’s light

[eraserbread]

nanami's not about to fight with u... he's just gonna show u who you truly belong to. read part 1 for context

"i'm not fighting with you, just get on your knees."

"ken, we have a houseful of guests-

he's shaking his head, tugging his zipper in a fateful swoop. you don't lie and say you weren't buzzing with the idea of what he'd do next, but it felt so wrong. now was not the time to be getting him off.

"i won't repeat myself." then his pants are down and he's easing his already-flushed cock from its confines. he's rubbing himself to his full potential right in front of you, so comfortable with you standing in front of him, wide-eyed and nervous.

luckily your kitchen is closed off from the rest of the house, but it's not completely closed. someone could easily pop their head into the arched entryway and see everything you're seeing. deep down you know kento wouldn't let that happen. he has the awareness of an anxious cat, so you trust him enough to get on your knees, crawling to close the distance between you two.

"i'm doing this because domination tends to make you mild-mannered," he explains briefly, voice tinged with a hint of arousal. "and that's what I need from you right now. do you understand?"

"mhm." you reply, looking up at him with silent doe-eyes. from this angle at his feet, he looks so much bigger. daunting and familiar. so beautiful... and all yours.

"relax your throat." he demands just before taking a handful of your hair and guiding you down the length of him. he's not easy to take in the slightest - your jaw burns, eyes screwed shut as you try to swallow back a gag.

then, a thunderous bout of laughter erupts from the other room and you fold -- gagging and choking all over his pretty cock.

he yanks you backward, face screwed up in distaste. "what did I just tell you?"

"'m sorry." you whine as he smushes your lips with his tip.

"if satoru walks in here and sees you like this, i will be extremely upset."

"'m sorry." you repeat, genuinely sorry and just wanting him inside of you again. he's barely gracing your lips, but every atom in your body is screaming for him. if you thought satoru was charming five minutes ago, you didn't even know who he was now. all you want is your husband.

"him and his righteous savior complex.. makes me sick." he mutters, mostly to himself. he has two big hands on either side of your head, squeezing like only he can. it's been too long together, he knows you're not a china doll.

so, he fucks your limp throat like he hates you, eye twitching as he watches your face go more flushed with each mean thrust he's delivering. you've never taken him like this, feeling the drippy tip of his cock at the base of your throat, giving you goosebumps all around his touch. you've never felt closer to him, yet so pained by every one of his movements.

it's like your entire mind goes limp. etched with scrawling versions of his name only. he's you can think about, all you can taste...

only when he's finally done and marked your stomach with his seed, does he help you up with a strong hand, just holding you close for a second until yours stops shaking.

he doesn't say a word, just watching your eyes as they stare back at him expressionless but teary and bloodshot nonetheless. he leans forward and kisses your forehead.

"sorry. you know i'll always love you."

you nod, because... yeah. same. that makes him smile.

and he guides you back to your party holding your hand, watching out for you as you take the seat next to satoru back. it's like he doesn't even notice your presence, he's far too preoccupied teasing utahime about some nameless story from the past.

once the party has concluded and kento is seeing them all out, does satoru stop and say something.

"poor, little nanami..." satoru stops just before he reaches the first step past the front door. ken regards him with a nod, leaning against the doorframe. "this is what happens when the lamb chooses a wolf."

"do i even want you to explain?"

satoru shrugs him off, throwing up in hand as a curt goodbye as he turns around. "she's too nice. it's sad to know you yelled at her... she was all teary-eyed and mellow for the rest of the night."

kento turns around, chuckling to himself as he finally shuts the front door. reveling in the quiet comfort of his home he thinks:

ha. did much more than make her cry...