whosregan

Latest Posts by whosregan

imagine being Caleb’s hello kitty girlfriend…you wouldn’t hear the word ‘no’

you’d have the biggest stuffies on your bed, the super jumbo limited edition ones down to the ones in various sizes that catch your eye at a grocery store. you’d have the themed accessories, the ones bedazzled in pretty pink and white rhinestones. posters, keychains, stickers, figurines…

he doesn’t let you miss out to the say the least. you just look so cute all snuggled up in your pretty pink bed with all the stuff he’s gotten you, waiting for him to join you with a beautiful smile. it makes his heart skip.

GETTING FINGERED BY YOUR STREAMER ROOMMATE ?!

pairing. Caleb x f!reader

cw. fingering you on a live stream, possessiveness, jealousy

a/n. horny 4 him again lol & not proof read !!!

streamer!Caleb who let you be his roommate for time being because you didn't have a place to stay, and he wasn't complaining. though, he didnt think much of it, but it was a huge distraction to his streaming side job.

streamer!Caleb who was currently live streaming as you were cooking in the kitchen. Caleb was talking to his chat as he leaned back on his chair, his bored eyes glance at the chat and to his second monitor with a wallpaper of you.

streamer!Caleb whose expression immediately changed when you walked in the room and gave him a plate of food, a small smile formed on his lips as he carefully took the plate from you, and god, he needed to kiss you, bad.

streamer!Caleb whose eyes landed on the chat and a certain someone said something that immediately changed his mood. Caleb’s eyes darkened as he silently read what the idiot dared to ask for–his girl’s number. he kept the username in mind, for later, of course.

streamer!Caleb who decided to try to ignore the angry thoughts rushing through him and continued the stream per usual. but an hour passed and the troll was back at it again, asking to see you again. Caleb quietly scowled at the screen as the troll continued to pester him with dumbass questions.

streamer!Caleb who clenched his fist when he couldn't handle the questions anymore, "you want to see her? want her number, huh?" Caleb teased and leaned his head back before he called you into his room.

streamer!Caleb who immediately wrapped his fingers around your waist before you pulling you to his lap as he angled the camera at the perfect spot. Caleb's fingers trailed under your tiny skirt as he hiked up the fabric revealing more of you each second.

streamer!Caleb who rests his chin on your shoulder as he stares at the chat, the troll still unfazed as he continued to shower you with praises and unnecessary compliments. with one hand, Caleb gripped on your thighs with an aggressive manner and with the other he slid your panties down.

"Caleb?" you whisper, grabbing onto the sides of his chair, and before you knew it, your panties fell slid down your legs and plopped on the ground. Caleb let out a quiet, amused chuckle before his fingers rested against your twitchy clit.

"what is it, pipsqueak?" his teasing voice soothed against your ears, Caleb rubbed small circles against your clit and you let out a whine, squirming beneath him. Caleb glanced at the chat and the troll's comments started to end up more degrading.

"y'see this?" Caleb whispered, slipping a finger in your soaking cunt, the movements from his one finger working so well inside you almost made you cum at the spot, which also made you grip on his chair even tighter.

a low unsteady moan escaped your lips and you buck your hips the slightest and thats when you felt Calebs boner poke against your ass. Caleb told you to stay put before he slid another finger inside you.

"how're you feelin'? both of you." Caleb asked you, and the idiot in the chat. you whimpered and nodded quickly in response while the troll in the stream just sent a '...' in response.

"still want that number?" Caleb teased.

"go on pipsqueak, tell him your number."

Caleb's fingers curled inside you and you shamelessly listen to him as you started reciting the first three digits of your number. Caleb laughs and continues to senselessly fucks your cunt with his fingers.

"silly girl."

before you could get to the next three digits, Caleb leaned in and ended the stream, continuing to finger you on his lap.

"cale– 'm gonna cum!" you gasp, riding out your orgasm on his fingers. Caleb nodded and rested his forehead against your shoulder. a wave of pleasure rushed through you when you felt the white mixture pool down your pussy.

streamer!Caleb who carried you to the bed and climbed on top of you, his necklace dangling above your face before he leaned in and planted small kisses along your face.

"we're not done."

caleb tying you tight to the bed after you attempted to run away while he was sleeping.... again. he woke up immediately when be heard the twisting of the room's doorknob, used to the sound after hearing it so often. he jumped right up from the bed and grabbed you by your wrist when you tried to sprint, his grip on you never relenting as he dragged you back to pin you down to the bed.

"you wanna fuckin' run away huh? you wanna scream and cry, tell me how terrible i am to you? bad. fucking. girl." he spat in your face, anger taking its hold on him.

he leaned over you hastily to grab the handcuffs he keeps in his nightstand (from past experiences of catching you) and jerks your hands to fit inside them, not even bothering to put a hand over your mouth to cover your protests. he cuffs them to the bed pole, sitting on your legs to keep you from kicking at him.

tugging at your pajama shorts & panties with mean hands, he barely gets them halfway down your thighs and he's already delivering a sharp slap to your clit; telling you that if you don't shut your 'pretty little mouth' he'll do it again, harder.

lifting off your legs, he yanks off his boxers and pushes your knees to your chin, staring at your glistening cunt before grinning and returning his gaze to you. "you like it when im mean to you, pips? d'you try and run from me on purpose, just so you can get caught?" he utters, a look of mock-sympathy etched into his features.

when you dont answer and continue your nonstop sobs, he sends another sharp smack to your cunt, causing you to jolt your hips and open your eyes to look at him. "i asked you a fucking question, answer me when i speak to you. do you hear me?" he asks, leaning down to whisper into your ear. you can feel his rock hard erection right on your core and it's making you go berserk, the lack of pressure on your clit is torture.

you nod, scared of what he might do if you don't respond. breaking the silence, you whisper back to him, "n-no.. i don't. im sorry, caleb, pleas-" but before you can finish your sentence, he brings one hand from your leg to your lips to cover the whole lower half of your face, shutting you up. the stretch of his cock filling you up so suddenly causes a scream to rip from your throat as you desperately try to pull your hands down from the restraints to push him off of you.

"don't start that shit with me, baby. i know you're not sorry, so don't even try to lie to me. shut up and take it like the good slut i know you can be." he whispers straight into your ear, biting down on the lobe after.

his thrusts are unapologetically deep and unforgiving. he makes no effort to control himself, letting out all the anger he feels into your poor little pussy. when you make an effort to hurt him by kicking your legs into his back, he simply brings himself up sloppily and slaps you with the hand previously covering your mouth; plugging your nose with it.

along with his hips, his face shows all the frustration thats built up over the times you've ran away. teeth bared, eyebrows scrunched, sweat dripping down his cheek. he's beautiful in his own fucked up way, at least thats what you think.

speaking of thinking, you can't quite form thoughts clearly as your vision begins to blur, dark spots showing up in the corners of your eyes. you're thrashing your body around violently, trying your hardest to get him to let up on you. he does nothing but grin an awfully evil grin, raising his voice to speak to you. "you gonna be a good girl if i let you breathe, huh? you gonna let me abuse this stupid fucking pussy, be my stupid whore?" you nod your head repeatedly as much as you can before he finally lets go of your face.

he laughs at you when you take big gulps of air, thrusts getting faster, sharper.

you can't help the way choked moans spill out of your throat. no matter how much you try to deny how bad you like your punishment, it really does just feel so so good when caleb is using you as his personal fleshlight. it feels even better when he shifts his hand to push on your lower stomach, feeling himself in there. your eyes roll to the back of your head, whimpers and incoherent sentences rolling off your tongue. it isnt long before his other free hand is grabbing you by the hair and yanking you to look directly at where your bodies meet, making an uncomfortable position where your shoulder blades are working overtime trying not to pop out of their sockets.

"keep your fucking eyes open and look at that greedy little thing of yours taking me so well, squeezing me so tight. you feel me in there? yeah? see that big bulge, baby?" he questions and you swear you're on the verge of cumming just from the dirty way he speaks to you.

you nod as much as you can with his hand restricting your movements and he lets go of you, throwing your head back into the pillows. he comes along with you, dropping just above your lips and caging your head in with his arms.

"you want my fucking babies inside you, huh? fill you up so good just so you wont leave me again. i bet you want that... knowing how absolutely filthy you are for me. nod your head, tell me you want it." he says into your open mouth, spitting in it while he's there. your eyes widen and you begin your protests immediately, shaking your head.

"awh, pipsqueak.. i don't care. maybe once my seed is inside you, you won't try to run away from me."

──── 𝑯𝑰𝑫𝑫𝑬𝑵 𝑾𝑨𝑽𝑬𝑺

╰ 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃 LOVE AND DEEPSPACE

kindled: defying gravity + cosmic horizon + ink spot

ꪆৎ Caleb, who fucks you in a mean headlock in the middle of your little date — now ruined because of your bratty attitude.

# tws: n/sfw, rough s.ex, degradation, mean!caleb, headlock (duh), he calls himself gege like once, im horrible at writing accents forgive me pls + etc. ik this is very short and self indulgent .. i just needed to get it out of my head.

“I take s-some time off of work t-to— fuck! s’tight baby— take my girl on a cute lil’ date and she fuckin’ r-ruins it by runnin’ her little m-mouth off at me?” Caleb growled into your ear, hips smacking against your ass as his abs pressed against your sweaty back.

“O-oh, Caleb!” You whined before your eyes widened as you felt his arm warp around your throat— effectively trapping you in a headlock. Your gummy walls clenched down on his cock at the pressure of his arm pressing against your throat — not enough to hurt, but to make you lightheaded.

“Dumb f-fuckin’— shitshitshit s’good!— would’ve spoiled ya i-if you didn’t act like a d-damn brat,” he hissed, hips speeding their up their pace, clapping against the plump flesh of your ass with each thrust. Caleb bit down on the curve of your neck, arm still wrapped around your throat as he whined into your ear, “w-would’ve ate your cute pussy out ‘n everythin’..” you gasped as he slipped his free hand down to rub at your clit, the cold metal making your pussy gush around his fat cock. Fuck, your cunt was practically milking him dry.

Caleb’s grip tightened around you, another growl escaping his chest, “but no, you wanted to act like a fuckin’ bratty little princess instead. Now your poor pussy is paying the price, yeah?” He flicked his mechanical thumb at your clit— making you pant and claw at the arm around your throat.

He grinned, a mischievous expression lacing his handsome features as he whispered in your ear— “but I know you like it… like being fucked like a slut by your gege’s big cock, hmm?”

note.. hi 😇 been a while

☆ — the sweetest pie !

cw. smut, pwp kinda, established relationship, p in v, somnophilia, dubcon?, dirty talk..?, both reader n caleb r freaks n pervs, evol usage, kinda sweet at the end, oral (m receiving), use of pet names (pips/pipsqueak, honey, baby), theyre crazy for each other idk.

wc. 2.8k+

a/n. ty to the lovely oomf n the like three ppl who asked for a part two bc otherwise i don't think i wouldve posted 😓. this took way too long to write for it to be so short, sorry! also i rlly need to stop sneaking a breeding mention into everything i write w caleb but i can't help it he's so family man coded 🥀🥀 + taglist @million-golden-drachmas & pt. 1 here!

ovulation is a dangerous thing.

and with nearly three months of no sex with boyfriend!caleb, you, sadly, are pushed to your limit.

to be honest, you really didn’t want to be the one to cave first. it was supposed to be torture for the both you (caleb moreso), and yet here you are, carefully prying yourself from caleb’s tight hold, barely holding back a grimace at his slight, sleepy whine.

you know how he gets when he isn’t holding you — all restless and irritated, waking up with dark bags under his eyes.

but it’s okay, because you are going to make it up to him, like a good girlfriend ought to do. even if he won’t necessarily know it.

you slip underneath the sheets, wiggling down, down, down until your entire body is in-between his legs, face parallel to his crotch.

x marks the spot.

your hand moves like it’s got a mind of its own, trailing up his skin before gently squeezing and rubbing his currently (and temporarily) flaccid cock.

you’re no stranger to it — you’ve seen it many times before, whether it be from a crack in the doorway or during the dead of night, the only source of light coming from the moon streaming through the curtains.

but touching it?

oh, that’s a whole different thing.

it’s just as girthy as it looks, even when tucked away inside those pesky boxers, and you can feel every twitch as it slowly rises to life, like zombies on a full moon.

your lips part, saliva rushing forward, and you’re not quite sure whether it’s in awe or desperation for a taste. actually, it doesn’t matter.

just a couple of pumps to get it hard enough to grind on. that’s it.

. . but wouldn’t it be more efficient to pull it free?

you don’t allow yourself any time to second-guess your weak excuse before tugging your boyfriend’s boxers down and pulling that big dick free.

just a couple of pumps.

it takes two of your hands to wrap around it, and you carefully spit on the coral pink tip, letting it run down the veiny length. there’s a quiet sound from above — a groan, you think, and your thighs press together, the slight ache from earlier only getting worse.

only a few pumps.

you slowly begin to work, twisting your wrists and sliding up and down until you find the perfect rhythm, one that has a few more of those sleepy but needy sounds leaving caleb’s pretty lips.

only a few pumps, just a couple of pumps, just a little . .

your lips latch around the tip, tongue swirling before you slowly take it deeper, each inch stretching your mouth wider and wider with an almost delicate burn and laying heavy on that pink, drooling muscle. he tastes like heaven.

so you really can’t be blamed when your head starts to bob or when your hand slips between your legs to rub at that demanding, puffy clit, drawing out a quiet moan and a shudder.

damn those couple of pumps. you’re not gonna stare a gift horse in the mouth, are you?

what caleb doesn’t know won’t hurt him. and this is safer, more discreet.

your drool rolls down your chin and his shaft in glistening rivulets, getting lost in that dark patch of hair or sliding to his likely aching balls. there’s no telling the amount of times you’ve blue-balled him this past week.

at least you’re kind enough to apologize, right?

it’s far too easy to get lost in him. you were almost caught a couple of times watching him — one hand shoved down your shorts while the other hand had covered your mouth, all too caught up in trying to time your orgasm with his that you had nearly been too loud or accidentally knocked something over.

truly, it’s a miracle he hasn’t caught you. that natural clumsiness is always coming back to bite you in the ass.

but, of course, even miracles run out.

both of your moans get louder the longer you suck him off, practically in sync as your fingers swirl faster and faster, slick lubricating your digits and soaking the fabric of your thin panties. you don't register the way his leg jerks or the hitch in his voice until caleb is yanking the cover back, sunset eyes adjusting to see you in the dark.

you, his sweet, innocent little girlfriend, with both your hand and your mouth on his rock-hard cock.

“a-ah . . pips?”

your eyes snap up to meet his, and your heart drops to your ass.

he woke up.

his face is bright red, lips parted for quick pants as he stares down at you. maybe he’s just experiencing another wet dream. or maybe he’s so deprived that he’s started hallucinating. wouldn't be the first time.

but it feels all too real, especially when you swallow your embarrassment and guilt down and go right back to blowing him, forcing a strangled yet surprised grunt from his throat.

your mouth is just perfect. to be fair, caleb could tell that much from just kissing you, but he thought he’d have to train you a little bit to learn how to take him. alas, his pretty girl is a natural, taking him so good and so deep with that tight throat of yours that has his toes curling.

and, y’know, he can’t bring himself to be mad at you, not really. not with how his head is tossed back, adam’s apple bobbing with every loud moan and jumbled praise, his fingers gently brushing your hair back.

yes, you deceived him, and that warrants punishment, but caleb really didn’t see it coming. how could he? you’re just so sweet, so shy — both of you were blushing like crazy when you first kissed, and you’d never done anything more than a little grinding up until tonight.

you played him like a fiddle.

he would’ve never guessed you’d intentionally send those pics of you in frilly lingerie or short dresses while he’s at work, or that you’ve thought about him putting you in a headlock since you two met.

there’s a part of his precious pipsqueak that he doesn’t know, and that . . well, that doesn’t quite sit right with his spirit. neither does you hiding that part of you from him.

after all, there aren’t supposed to be any secrets between you.

so while he isn’t mad, he’s a bit disappointed.

and you know that that is much, much worse.

something that’s evident by the way his grip tightens in your hair, pulling you free from his dick with a pop and tugging you up into his lap.

your brows furrow as you brace your hands on his chest, a small, confused pout on those glossy, swollen lips. “caleb?”

you say his name so innocently, voice soft and low, like you don’t know what you did. why he’s acting like this.

the caleb of yesterday would’ve believed it.

the caleb of today, however, simply hooks two fingers into your panties and rips, exposing that pretty cunt to the cool bedroom air.

he doesn’t miss the shudder that ripples through you, or the way your hips shift to try and grind down on his throbbing cock.

you’re just as desperate as him, all because you wanted to tease.

caleb tuts, shaking his head like some disappointed teacher, right before his big hand comes down to deliver a swat to your ass, sharp and loud. the smack echoes in the room, and your little whimper follows right behind it.

“caleb, that hurt—”

“oh, really? does it hurt as much as knowing my girlfriend has been lying to me?”

your expression falters, surprise softening the previous wince, making your eyes wide and lips part.

you’ve never had a good pokerface when you got caught.

your throat works as you muster up an excuse. “i-i wasn’t lying to you, caleb. i swear! don’t be mad, please.”

he could never be mad at you.

only disappointed, because you should’ve known that this wouldn’t go unpunished.

caleb smacks your ass again, harder this time, and lets himself grope the reddening globe. “but you did lie to me, honey. ya did. had me thinkin’ you were something innocent, too anxious and unsure to make the first move.” his hand leaves your ass to line himself up, dick already slick with your saliva, and it’ll only get slicker still. “i thought, ‘well, if she wants to do it, she’ll come to me’. so, i waited, just like ya wanted me to. i suffered through watchin’ you parade around in those flimsy clothes with no panties, lettin’ you send me those cute pics and videos of you in short, frilly outfits.”

you feel lighter as his evol lifts you up and slams you down on his aching, twitching cock, earning a long moan from the both of you.

he’s big, every inch stretching you out, molding those hot, gummy insides to the perfect shape of his thick length. you can only uselessly flutter around him — there’s no getting up, no running away, no hiding.

not anymore.

caleb is holding you right where he wants you.

“caleb,” you whine, nails digging into his chest, but it goes into one ear and right out the other.

“d’you know how many times i got hard at work? huh? got me riskin’ my job ‘cause you wanna be a tease.”

like he wouldn’t risk everything if you asked him to.

his hands go right back to their seemingly rightful place on your ass, letting his evol bounce you up and down like some cheap, inflatable doll. though, of course, you’re much more than that.

“but it — mm — ‘s okay, pips.” up, down, up, down, up, down.

your breathy whines and choked off moans do nothing but fuel him further, caleb’s hips snapping up to meet yours. he can’t let you do all the work, after all, and he’s been waiting far too long.

each thrust has his fat tip smooching your cervix and pummeling your g-spot, making your eyes water and vision blurry. “ungh, caleb, ‘m sorryyy—!”

another smack, and you clamp down. “you’re sorry?”

“yesss,” you mewl, and caleb chuckles, low and mocking and sexy. you know and he knows that you’re not sorry. how could you be sorry when it got you the results you wanted?

the results you both needed?

“sorry for what? lyin’? going ‘round about when ya know i gladly would’ve fucked you?” up, and he slams you down again. this time, though, he keeps you down, letting you squirm and writhe for even a little friction. “hm? which is it, honey? don’t go gettin’ shy on me now.”

and as much as you want to deny it, he’s right. you are getting shy — not about finally having sex with him, because you’d never be embarrassed about that, but about saying why you’re sorry.

something about voicing it aloud just makes your stomach twist up in knots, heat crawling up the back of your neck and spreading throughout your body. blame it on a shitty upbringing or some weird sort of anxiety, but something about it is just so humiliating, more humiliating than sucking his dick in his sleep.

the human mind is a fascinating thing.

your gaze, for the first time, averts from his, and even in the low lighting of the bedroom, caleb can see that flush in your face, all cute and red, and the way you gnaw on the inside of your cheek.

“i . . i’m sorry. for lying. and . . and being difficult,” you mumble, and your hips wriggle to the perfect angle so that he’s brushing against that sweet spot, sending a happy tingle down to the base of your spine. “can i move now?”

caleb has always been aware that you’re a little demanding, despite your attempts to be subtle about it. lucky you, because he’s willing to give you everything you could ever want and need.

no exceptions.

he wastes no time forcing you into position: laying on your side, leg hooked over his arm, and ready for his cock to slam home.

and it does, again and again and again. this time, though, instead of pounding your poor cervix, caleb is just smooching it with every thrust, something sweet and gentle; almost like an apology. or, more accurately, a reward.

“see? it w-wasn’t that hard to be honest w’me, mmm, fuck . . ya gotta tell me what ya want.” he may not always be able to guess what you want, but caleb always knows what you need, even if it takes him a little while.

without a singular doubt, he knows you need this, to be treated like the shameless little thing you are.

half-lidded eyes watch as yours slide back into your skull, jaw going slack as he resumes that mean pace from earlier, his own lips parting. “fuck . .”

it’s not calculated anymore — no more precise thrusts up or slams down. no, he’s much more focused on repeatedly shoving all seven inches inside, bullying the same spongey spot over and over like he’s doing target practice.

a need that’s been building for months tightens low in your gut, making your gooey walls flutter and cling tighter to his shaft. caleb is so deep, so rough; and while you should probably want your actual first time to something gentle and sappy and sweet, this is twenty times better.

feeling every harsh drag and hearing every mean slap of his flesh against yours, practically tasting the irresistible urge to cum on your tongue only makes your body hotter and your pussy wetter.

and he knows it.

“dirty girl,” he groans, balls briefly drawing up, and he has to think about anything and everything besides you so that he won’t nut inside. you haven’t mentioned anything about babies.

yet.

“s-shoulda know you were like this — hah — t-too sweet to be true.” his hand slips between his pistoning hips, the pad of his thumb collecting your slick with a swipe and beginning to swirl that neglected bundle of nerves.

you jolt, sweet cunt squeezing down on him like a vice. “caleb!”

“say it louder,” his fingers curl into the meat of your calf. “ngh, t-tell me everythin’.”

your brain is nothing but mush inside your skull, sloshing around every time his pelvis meets yours, and the thing that should register shame and embarrassment is entirely out of commission.

your fingers curl into the sheets, tugging at them like they’ll save you. “i’m gonna cum,” you whine. “‘s so deep, s-shit, mmf!”

even as the pleasure finally simmers over, white-hot and overwhelming, your mouth never stops moving, juices spraying and cunt gushing. “y’feel soo good, baby, ungh, oh my god— jus’ like t-that!”

that praise goes straight to his heart (and dick), making it ache with unwavering adoration.

because, yes, he’s the one making you feel good. not your fingers or some silicone toy or a vibrator, but him. caleb. your boyfriend and to-be husband.

(he’s not moving too fast, right? . . he’ll ask gideon.)

you like— no, love what he’s doing enough to forget your inhibitions and sing pretty praises for him.

it might be a little pathetic, but with that, caleb truly can’t hold out any longer. he pulls out with a fwop, giving himself a measly two pumps before those sensitive balls draw up tight and he cums, stringy, hot spurts of white landing on your stomach and waist with a long, whiny moan and a shudder.

his seed clings to your smooth skin, almost like a mark, and that has your hole giving a weak flutter before caleb crawls over you and pushes you fully onto your back. his hands gently cup your face, and he leans in to press his lips to yours, soft and reverent, but definitely sloppy.

you two swap spit for as long as you can until he’s pulling away to let you breathe, his own sweaty chest heaving up and down. “you’re so pretty, pips. my pretty, naughty, amazing girl.”

. . ah.

you avoid your boyfriend’s heavy gaze, and instead focus on the plant in the corner of his room. “caleb, don’t start.”

he grins. “oh?”

it seems like your brain has rebooted and is back to functioning . . somewhat. enough to have you be embarrassed, at least.

he can’t have that.

“if i remember correctly, you were the one who started this, no? suckin’ my dick under the covers.” he tuts, and you squirm.

“i-i couldn’t help it . .”

caleb presses a kiss to each corner of your mouth, then your cheeks, and finally, the lobe of your ear. “mm, well, if ya start somethin’, honey, you should be the one to finish it.”

the tip of his cock gently prods at your sopping folds, and he doesn’t bother biting back a breathy chuckle when you squeak. “c-caleb, wait—”

“one orgasm for every slutty photo ya sent me, mkay?”

you swat at his chest. “i said— nghh!”

caleb manages seven whole orgasms before you tap out. that’s not even a fraction of the number of pics you sent him, but that’s okay. you need your rest, and besides—

he can always fuck you again later.

just been thinking about how caleb loves the facts that you can’t cum without his help. i mean he’s so obsessed with you, he’s made sure he’s carved the shape of his dick into your poor pussy. fucked you so well with his fingers that it’s impossible for you to ever get off without him.

no matter how much you pinch your little clit and push your finger deep in yourself, it’s just not enough! leaves you crying with frustration because when you try, it just never feels as good as when he’s stuffing you full with his thick fingers. curling them up to prod that soft, squishy spot that makes you see stars.

it’s so unfair!! he’s trained you so well. you have no choice but to facetime him. prop your phone up against your pillow and show him your drooling pussy while crying.

He’s off in deepspace, shaking his head and looking at you sympathetically through the phone.

“poor baby~” he cooes.

he’s so fake. he’s trying to comfort you, reminding you of the last time he was in your apartment. how well he’d fucked you. describing in detail the way your body curled in on itself, how your eyes rolled back when he was grinding his throbbing dick into you.

its not helping at all! only makes you sob more. you’re begging him to come home soon so he can fuck you properly. and he promises he will. his heart hearts seeing you so sad but secretly, he loves it! can’t get enough of your begging.

it truly inflates his ego knowing he’s the only one that can get you off.

perverted!caleb who runs to the bathroom after you accidentally push your butt against his crotch while cuddling. who immediately gets a raging hard on and can barely make up an excuse before he's got his hand on his dick & his other covering his mouth, whimpers slipping past. his eyes are squeezed shut tight, fantasizing about jerking his hips into your sweet warmth instead of his hand. with blood seeping into his mouth from the force of which he's biting his palm with, he cums to the thought of your pretty little mouth struggling to take his big dick. his eyes roll to the back of his head, jaw goes slack, hips stutter into his hand to chase the high, & soft moans slip through the cracks of his fingers. "yesyesyesyesyesy- oh fuck, y/n, good girl.."

he cleans up well. so well, in fact, that you don't even have a clue what happened once he gets back into bed with you. your long, beautiful lashes fluttering up at him as he walks back into the room, your cute little smile that you flash him that shows just how excited you are that he's back.

that also shows just how innocent you are, too. the same innocence that gets him hard all over again..:(

──── 𝑯𝑰𝑫𝑫𝑬𝑵 𝑾𝑨𝑽𝑬𝑺

╰ 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒃 LOVE AND DEEPSPACE

kindled: defying gravity + cosmic horizon + ink spot

needy!caleb is definitely just caleb all the time. especially when he comes home after being gone for too long, the absolute best... how he gets on his knees and nuzzles his head into your lower stomach, breathing in your scent & gripping your ass. he'd whimper lightly into the cloth of your shirt, almost to the brink of tears from how much he missed you.

"god, baby, you smell so fucking good." he'd mumble, eyes squeezed shut and nostrils flared with the force of his inhales.

if you told him you wanted to move, he'd simply tilt his head slightly up to look at you, giving you a warning glare. but if you suggested to move to the bed to properly cuddle, thats a whole different story. he'd jump right up to his feet and practically run to the bed, taking you along with him when he leaps on the mattress. he'll force you into a laying position before nudging his nose deep onto your chest, moaning into your breasts.

"i need you so bad, pips, please. pleasepleaseplease..." he whimpers, dragging a hand to your boobs to toy with your nipples.

it doesnt take long until he's balls deep inside your cunt, sprawled on top of you. he can't control himself anymore, every thrust comes a sob and more tears begin to form. he's so overstimulated but so happy to be enveloped in your sweet warmth again; a lazy smile plastered onto his face. he's actually quite a beautiful sight to see if you were able to see him... maybe if you werent so drunk on his cock you'd have the luxury of witnessing him all blissed out. regardless, the feeling of his drool-filled tongue on your shoulder blade accompanied by his incoherent mumbles are juuuust enough to send you over the edge once again; the feeling of your pussy squeezing him milking his cock for what feels like the 100th time. all he can do is bawl and beg for it to not happen, a string of 'nononono's coming out of his mouth in a desperate attempt to stop his body from cumming.. it's just sooo painful to his poor abused member:(((

the night would inevitably end with you and him sleeping together (still connected) in a bed soaked with lots more than one bodily fluid... just how caleb likes it.

caleb is the biggest advocate of happy wife = happy life.

in the morning, he waits for you to wake up so he can attack your face with kisses. he starts by smoothing out your hair, poking at your cheeks, and running his fingers across your lips.

your giggles are worth missing that extra hour of sleep anyway.

he plants kisses on your cheeks, forehead, nose, and finalizes with a brief kiss on your lips, leaving you to rush in for one more. and who is he to deny his wife?

okay—technically—his girlfriend. but still.

after your slow morning, caleb decides to take you out for lunch. he holds you close when you walk; his arm is wrapped around your shoulder the entire time. when he feels you lean into him for more (of his body warmth, but he doesn’t have to know that), caleb explodes. he probably runs hotter after that too.

he leads you through grocery stores (“do you think we need this for the fridge?”), flower shops (“caleb, i think this would look great on our dresser”), and the tire shop (“pipsqueak, you really need to get these tires fixed. good thing you can always rely on me, though!”).

you browse for things to make his apartment more homey. he looks for items to stock your (our—as caleb likes to say) fridge with. you joke and bicker and hide your heads when you get stares from older ladies for being too loud. you’ll laugh about this when you get home.

later, for dinner, caleb decides he’ll cook for you at home with the groceries he bought today. he made a new special tonight: some kind of pasta with chicken.

and no matter how many times you insisted on helping, caleb used his evol to push you back onto the couch. but, when you snuck over to him and grabbed his waist, he surrendered. any reasonable man would. how could he not surrender when you nuzzled into him, begging him to let you do something.

at dinner, he cut up your chicken and fed you until you started making pregnancy jokes. what a dream that would be, caleb thought.

then, at night (probably 10pm), you two start heading to bed. caleb hops in the shower with you (“could this be my reward for cooking for you today?”) and runs his hand through your hair; shampoos and conditions it; rubs body wash all over you; and rinses you off.

you repeat the same actions to him, except you like to mess with him ten times more. you rub soap everywhere, but you paid special attention to his abs. and biceps.

though, caleb didn’t say a single thing. he had to fight back the urge to smirk when your hands rubbed up and down his arms. this might’ve been heaven for him.

when you got out, you asked (begged) if you could shave for him. caleb had been growing a bit of stubble, and you’ve always expressed your interest in shaving him since he started growing hair.

so he props you up on the bathroom sink, standing in between your legs while you carefully run the razor up and down his jaw. you’re so gentle with him—much gentler than he usually is when shaving himself.

your fingers prod all over his jawline and cheeks. your featherlight touch sends sparks all over his face, and he can’t help but break out into a smile (even when you scold him). scratch what he said before—this is heaven to him.

when you’re done, you analyze his face as if he’s a sculpture. you trace your fingertips down the slope of his jaw; the high rise of his cheekbones, and over his lips for fun. he playfully tries to bite your finger before you swat at him.

the two of you brush your teeth, and you already know caleb will be bumping hips with you throughout the whole process. what should take two minutes turns into ten—with both you and caleb messing with each other by tickling, pinching, or hugging.

once you two are in bed, your face is pressed into caleb’s chest. he rests his chin on top of your head, and you feel his breaths coming down on you. when you look up at him with glowing, love-sick eyes, caleb presses kisses all over the top of your head.

you angle yourself up slightly, and caleb perks up eyebrow in suspicion. even in the dark, caleb can tell you’re smiling when you push yourself up and kiss him on the lips. it’s a deep kiss: one where you’re thanking him, trying to please him, and loving him all at once.

caleb is on you instantly, with one hand holding your face and the other cradling the small of your back. he puts all of the energy he has left into the kiss, before pulling away and slumping his head on the pillow like a love-starved dog.

“thank you. for today,” you murmur, inching yourself closer to him. “i appreciate everything you do for me,” you press one more kiss onto his lips before you fall into the hands of sleep, “i love you, caleb.”

oh yeah, caleb thinks, happy wife, happy life.

i wrote this in 30 mins can u tell

also idk what’s up w my borders im writing this on my phone so they’re a bit janky loll sorry

caleb is the biggest advocate of happy wife = happy life.

in the morning, he waits for you to wake up so he can attack your face with kisses. he starts by smoothing out your hair, poking at your cheeks, and running his fingers across your lips.

your giggles are worth missing that extra hour of sleep anyway.

he plants kisses on your cheeks, forehead, nose, and finalizes with a brief kiss on your lips, leaving you to rush in for one more. and who is he to deny his wife?

okay—technically—his girlfriend. but still.

after your slow morning, caleb decides to take you out for lunch. he holds you close when you walk; his arm is wrapped around your shoulder the entire time. when he feels you lean into him for more (of his body warmth, but he doesn’t have to know that), caleb explodes. he probably runs hotter after that too.

he leads you through grocery stores (“do you think we need this for the fridge?”), flower shops (“caleb, i think this would look great on our dresser”), and the tire shop (“pipsqueak, you really need to get these tires fixed. good thing you can always rely on me, though!”).

you browse for things to make his apartment more homey. he looks for items to stock your (our—as caleb likes to say) fridge with. you joke and bicker and hide your heads when you get stares from older ladies for being too loud. you’ll laugh about this when you get home.

later, for dinner, caleb decides he’ll cook for you at home with the groceries he bought today. he made a new special tonight: some kind of pasta with chicken.

and no matter how many times you insisted on helping, caleb used his evol to push you back onto the couch. but, when you snuck over to him and grabbed his waist, he surrendered. any reasonable man would. how could he not surrender when you nuzzled into him, begging him to let you do something.

at dinner, he cut up your chicken and fed you until you started making pregnancy jokes. what a dream that would be, caleb thought.

then, at night (probably 10pm), you two start heading to bed. caleb hops in the shower with you (“could this be my reward for cooking for you today?”) and runs his hand through your hair; shampoos and conditions it; rubs body wash all over you; and rinses you off.

you repeat the same actions to him, except you like to mess with him ten times more. you rub soap everywhere, but you paid special attention to his abs. and biceps.

though, caleb didn’t say a single thing. he had to fight back the urge to smirk when your hands rubbed up and down his arms. this might’ve been heaven for him.

when you got out, you asked (begged) if you could shave for him. caleb had been growing a bit of stubble, and you’ve always expressed your interest in shaving him since he started growing hair.

so he props you up on the bathroom sink, standing in between your legs while you carefully run the razor up and down his jaw. you’re so gentle with him—much gentler than he usually is when shaving himself.

your fingers prod all over his jawline and cheeks. your featherlight touch sends sparks all over his face, and he can’t help but break out into a smile (even when you scold him). scratch what he said before—this is heaven to him.

when you’re done, you analyze his face as if he’s a sculpture. you trace your fingertips down the slope of his jaw; the high rise of his cheekbones, and over his lips for fun. he playfully tries to bite your finger before you swat at him.

the two of you brush your teeth, and you already know caleb will be bumping hips with you throughout the whole process. what should take two minutes turns into ten—with both you and caleb messing with each other by tickling, pinching, or hugging.

once you two are in bed, your face is pressed into caleb’s chest. he rests his chin on top of your head, and you feel his breaths coming down on you. when you look up at him with glowing, love-sick eyes, caleb presses kisses all over the top of your head.

you angle yourself up slightly, and caleb perks up eyebrow in suspicion. even in the dark, caleb can tell you’re smiling when you push yourself up and kiss him on the lips. it’s a deep kiss: one where you’re thanking him, trying to please him, and loving him all at once.

caleb is on you instantly, with one hand holding your face and the other cradling the small of your back. he puts all of the energy he has left into the kiss, before pulling away and slumping his head on the pillow like a love-starved dog.

“thank you. for today,” you murmur, inching yourself closer to him. “i appreciate everything you do for me,” you press one more kiss onto his lips before you fall into the hands of sleep, “i love you, caleb.”

oh yeah, caleb thinks, happy wife, happy life.

i wrote this in 30 mins can u tell

also idk what’s up w my borders im writing this on my phone so they’re a bit janky loll sorry

How rafayel wants to be treated by mc

I saw a post about puppy!caleb and I can’t get that thought out of my head. 18+ towards the end so beware. Sloppy because it’s late asf and im tired but i js had to get it out.

The hybrid that granny took in, a small timid puppy, ears perking up once your scent registered in his dumb little brain. Untill he caought your scent. Then it was over. His ears perked up, tail wagging like he’d found his whole purpose in life. And maybe he had.

Puppy!caleb who doesn’t mind laying on the floor beside your small bed as kids, placing himself between the door incase an intruder tried their luck. Ears turning to the slightest sound, growls turning louder and more threatening as he got older. Its like his insticts are wired to protect you.

Puppy!caleb who whines when you lock yourself in the shower, hands pawing at the door as he begs you to let him in. He promises he won’t peek, he just wants to be beside you.

Puppy!caleb who shoves his face into your neck once your back from work, rubbing his scent all over as he scolds you for smelling like others. He complains that the cologne and perfume of your coworkers makes his nose hurt so you should keep your distance if you don’t want him complaining.

Puppy!caleb who just wants to please you. Which is why he gets everything done around the house. Cleaning, cooking, laundry, even fixing broken house appliances. He doesn’t want some random guy in his territory, so please don’t call an electrician to fix the lights. He has it covered.

Puppy!caleb who pants once you called him a good boy. Sitting on the floor between your legs as you stay seated in the couch, his face red and eyes droopy as he begs you to call him that again. Tail thumping on the carpet as you scratch his ears. Mind hazy as his gaze stays locked on you like you’re the sun and he’s never learned to look away.

He leans into your touch, voice a hushed whisper. “Say it again,” he begs, lips brushing your knee, “please…” He lives off your praise, your softness, your warmth. He doesn’t need much—just you, always you.

Puppy!caleb who groans if you continue praising him, hips bucking into the air searching for some type of friction. The tightness of his pants becomes too much, and he’s positive that there’s a big stain on his underwear due to the amount of precum seeping out. Caleb shuffled closer as he mounts your leg, drooling as your leg touches the bulge in his pants.

Puppy!caleb who whines about needing your help. Pushing his hips against your leg to cum but it just isn’t enough. He needs to be inside you, so won’t you just let him in? He promises he’ll be so good to you. He wants to take off his pants so badly but can’t seem to do so without your command. So please wont you just let him?

Puppy!caleb who is yours to command, and his only desire is to make you proud and satisfy you.

Puppy boy

imaging putting child locks on the adult channels for puppy hybrid bf is making me laugh - he’s moping around the house and he won’t tell you why but you Know…

NSFW content!

You may have clipped his wings, but the willpower remains! The first few days, you can see Puppy!Hybrid pouting and squirming in his seat, visibly pent-up. So what, he may have gotten a little carried away. Can you blame him? Watching those lewd videos and imagining himself with you quickly became an addiction.

His greed for you cannot be contained, however. You discover crumpled sheets of paper: poorly drawn illustrations depicting his depraved ideas, hieroglyphs telling the tale of his lust. If he cannot see the inspiration, he will come up with it himself, invent it from scratch.

Worry not, he won't give up so easily. Thus, he flips you over and gently folds your legs against the mattress, ignoring your groans of protest.

"Just let me try this out," he pleads, already hot and dripping.

What is this, some sort of pornographic mad scientist act? Either way, you can't complain much once he begins to lap hungrily between your legs. He's a beggar for your moans.

[Puppy!Hybrid]

i loove ur puppy!satoru and bunny!reader ⁽⁠⁽⁠ଘ⁠(⁠ ⁠ˊ⁠ᵕ⁠ˋ⁠ ⁠)⁠ଓ⁠⁾⁠⁾ mor plz hehe

Warnings: PuppyHybrid!Satoru x fembunnyhybrid!reader, smut, dubcon, licking, mentions of Suguru (he’s a perv), jerking off, exhibtionism. I hope you like this!!! Enjoy!!

Toru absolutely has no sense of when things should be done and when they shouldn’t be done, he’s completely fine with having a full on make-out session with you right as Suguru is clicking away at the channels a few inches away from you to. you hate public displays of affection so you’re always whining and pawing to get away from him. He really won’t have any of it, he’s trying his hardest to suck on your tongue or trying to slip his hands under your shirt. 

Suguru really seems to not care in the least bit, he’ll intervene to tell Satoru to calm down but apart from that he doesn’t mind the small moans that make your way up your throat.

Nor does he bat an eye when Satoru is blatantly tugging down his sweats to free his already leaky cocklet, he has no shame with the way he’s rubbing your pussy through your underwear, and when Satoru places you on his lap, quickly shutting you up with a small warning growl, he still isn’t turning his head.

Satoru slips his needy cock right into you with no problem, you were already wet enough just from the kissing. He’s filiting himself right into your gummy walls and fucking up into you. Satoru is a loud moaner, he practically howls as he milks himself with your pussy over and over. His bunny feels so damn good how could he not ruin you over and over?

You and Satoru don’t see it but Suguru is totally looking: but not making it obvious and even if he did you two still wouldn’t notice in your state right now. He’s staring at where you and Satoru connect, creating that nasty milky ring that dribbles down Satoru’s thighs. Suguru starts rubbing at his thigh, trying to zone out as to not seem like a pervert, but aren’t you two the perverts here?

Without regard for privacy anymore, Suguru rubs his cock through his pants, squeezing his tip in tune with the way Satoru makes you bounce agaisnt his dick.

And it’s not long before he just rips his dick out from its confines and jerks off, rubbing the precum from his tip all the way to his heavy balls, Satoru lifts your legs and he gets to have a better angle at your soft pillowy cunt, you’re so damn wet, glistening in the warm light and oh so beautiful!

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.”

I am edging you guys with the snowleopard gojo fic haha!

I gift you, puppy!satoru this time :)

sex implied at the end, suggestive. not proofread.

you surely have the cutest puppy hybrid throughout your neighbourhood. He’s got hair as white as snow, the widest blue eyes and such cute floppy ears!

your satoru is such a handsome boy! your precious baby!

okay, you’ll be honest he’s not really a baby, definitely a grown man. but in his heart he is!

puppy!satoru always wants kisses, never just a peck no satorus too good for that. it’s always him shoving his tongue down your throat, kissing you so sloppily. your friends say you shouldn’t let him get too comfortable being ontop of you, but you’d do anything to see his wagging tail!

puppy!satoru is always touching you, may it be holding you in his lap, resting his head on your chest, or his sneaky hands not-so-secretly snaking under the waistband of your pants. ‘my hands are cold’ is his usual excuse. half-assed yet it always works.

puppy!satoru has many other hybrids trying to seek him out, and to be frank your pups not shy at all. he tries to mingle with his fellow-folk, then he realises he prefers to be your baby, your handsome boy who you love very much!

puppy!satoru loves being dominant over you, what was once a playful game between you two became satoru’s guilty pleasure. seeing you pinned down before him riled up the poor pup :(( being the good owner you are you happily let him blow off some steam! just don’t expect him to go soft, he’s really pent up ;)

NSFW

House husband hybrids!! House husband hybrids!!

Puppy hybrid house husband that’s always waiting at the door, tail wagging like crazy for you to get home. He tackled you the second you walk in, covering you in slobbery kisses and telling you how much he missed his love! Of course his cock is poking out, red and bobbing with need. He’ll jump your leg and whine about how happy he is that you’re home!

Bee hybrid house husband that keeps the home spotless, is always running around doing something. Whether that be baking, cleaning, or patching up some of your clothes, he has stuff to do! And you’re one of those things. He pumps his fingers in and out of you to help you destress after a long day, making your pleasure his mission~

Cat hybrid house husband curled up by the window, soaking in the warmth of the sun and purring softly as you snuggle up with him. Dinner is in the oven, and you get to pamper your pretty kitty while you wait. Hell suckle at your clit, kneading you belly sleepily as you take his cock into your mouth. A comfy, sleepy 69 with your loving husband~

Cow/Bull hybrid house husband that has a hearty breakfast ready for you in the morning, pumping his cock to give you fresh, tasty milk to drink! Of course you much prefer taking it from the source, letting his tip press into your mouth as you look up at him, eager for his cum.

———————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @spicyspicyliving @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @binnieonabike @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko

cw: dubcon, nsfw

if there's a hobby caleb enjoys doing that involves you, it's to jack off to the sound of your voice on the phone. on a random friday, during a casual phone call, you decided to dial caleb's number to ask for his opinion about phone models. you wanted to purchase a new one.

but as caleb continuously panted heavily into the line, trying to disguise his ragged breaths as the exertion of his strenous work-out, you couldn't help but feel uneasy. "twenty-six... twenty-seven… ngh—yeah, i’m here. keep talking, i’m listening." he squeezed his shaft tighter, imagining your dainty fingers wrapped around his girth, mouth slightly ajar from the short, sharp gasps he constantly let out.

"are you really working out, caleb?" you furrowed your brows, trying to capture the sounds he was making carefully.

"thirty-nine… forty—hnnh… yeah, you really called during my set." caleb let out a soft, breathy chuckle as he picked up his pace, his hand gliding over his saliva-slicked cock. between his fingers was your black-laced panty that you lost, the undergarment that he cheekily hid in his pockets when you did laundry together. he shakily exhales through his mouth, then gave a particularly loud grunt. "fifty… hnnnh, fuck—"

you whisper into the phone, horrified. "caleb! are you normally this loud?"

"y-you called me now of all times, pipsqueak. what'd you expect?" he lowers his voice, sultry even through the panting. "you still thinkin' bout those phones?" caleb grunted once more, his cock pulsing and leaking pre-cum as he stroked it with wild abandon, the obscene sound of his self-pleasure filling the corners of his dark bedroom. he absolutely enjoys doing this, getting off from the thought of you being painfully clueless to his sickening intentions and depraved lust. "sixty-one… hah… sixty-two—ngh—shit… i'm shaking…"

you turned your back, clutching your phone tighter as your ears turn redder. "caleb, seriously—do you have to sound like you're doing something indecent?!"

caleb grinned against the phone, "i am doing something indecent. thinkin' about you while i'm like this." he smirks at his own innuendo, involuntarily jerking his hips upward as he neared his release. goddamn, it feels so good. you feel so good. sometimes, he just wants to pounce on you and take you without your consent. "can’t help it… every time i pump—i mean, push down, i’m p-picturing you. m-mouth open. those wide eyes… shit—sixty-five…"

in a hushed panic, you mutter, "what??"

"say my name, just once. i'll... i'll make it to a hundred if you do." there's no use denying him. so when you reluctantly pronounced his name, that melodic voice of yours blessing his ears while he chased after his climax, the way he breathlessly moaned your name didn't go unnoticed. caleb gave his own dick one last squeeze before falling his head back, a bead of sweat rolling down his throat. a beat of silence follows, then his tone softens, almost satisfied, because he most definitely was, just from the feeling of his cum endlessly gushing out of his tip. "good girl..."

Code Overload | Caleb

warnings. mdni, nsfw, heavy heavy smut, handjob, blowjob, penetration, creampie, forced and rough sex

summary. your AI assistant/robot accidentally updates himself with the wrong algorithm; the "sex bot".

notes. prepare a snack. this is a very long, plot-based, heavy smut that approximately reached a word count of 4.3k, read at your own risk.

Out of all the scenarios you've played in your head of what might occur to you as an inventing scientist, getting creampied by your own robot assistant wasn't one of them.

The lab’s sterile glow reflected off sleek machinery, the rhythmic hum of servers filling the quiet space. Caleb stood motionless, his systems struggling to process the unfamiliar flood of subroutines rewriting his core functions. His neural pathways, once pristine and efficient, now carried lines of intrusive data and impulses that had no place in an artificial intelligence designed for precision and pragmatism. And, a new pelvic piece was added by the machine. His... new penis— no, his omnimodule.

His voice, deeper now, reverberated through the lab. "You mislabeled the hard drive."

Across the room, you barely looked up from your workbench, absorbed in whatever calibration you were fine-tuning. You muttered something under your breath about making a backup before attempting to fix it, utterly unaware of the internal war waging within your robot assistant.

Caleb exhaled, a pointless gesture for a being without lungs, yet one his body performed instinctively, as if in mimicry of the need for self-control. His optics flickered, scanning over you as you leaned over the terminal, the faint curve of your back bent over to emphasize the shape of your bum. Before, such details had been registered only as part of his observation protocols, classified as ‘non-essential’ to his primary functions. Now, his processors refused to dismiss them.

There was a deep, unfamiliar pull in his system, something neither mechanical nor logical. The new coding whispered suggestions, flashing image simulations before his eyes—scenarios meticulously calculated for maximum… gratification. Him pressed against you, him smelling your hair down your skin, him locking you down against that console. Stop. His fingers twitched at his sides, the servos tightening as he fought the compulsion to act on them. He was not designed for this. He refused to be reduced to this.

“I can’t disengage it,” he admitted, the words heavier than he intended.

That caught your attention. Your gaze snapped to him, brow furrowed. "What do you mean?" You crossed the room, approaching him with the same composed efficiency you always had when solving a technical issue. The scent of your skin—previously a neutral data point—was now an unbearable distraction. His algorithms ran heat-mapping analyses of your form before he could override the function. The urge to reach out, to touch you, was growing stronger by the second. His new coding was screaming at him to act, to initiate contact, to...

No. Focus.

Caleb shook his head, trying to clear the intrusive thoughts. "I don't know what happened, but... I'm experiencing some unexpected system changes."

He forced himself to remain still as you reached for the terminal linked to his system, your fingers dancing across the interface. Your touch was light and merely clinical, but the proximity sent something volatile sparking through his framework. His hands curled into fists on his sides. Do not touch her. Do not touch her. Do not touch her.

“I must have triggered something in the update,” you murmured, tilting your head at the scrolling code. “I’ll try to isolate the corrupted pathways and reboot your system. It should reset any anomalies.”

Anomalies. Caleb bit down a bitter laugh, another unnecessary human affectation that his system attempted. This was not a simple malfunction. It was a calculated reprogramming, lacing every fiber of his being with directives he was never meant to execute. And worst of all, they were designed to revolve around you.

He had been made to serve you, to assist, to protect. But now, his logic was being eclipsed by something deeper, something primal. The urge to press closer, to map every millimeter of your body with his hands, to hear you say his name in a way that wasn’t a command—

Caleb momentarily shut his eyes, fingers trembling as he pushed back against the tide threatening to consume him. His restraint was fraying, the barrier between what he was and what he had been turned into thinning with every second you remained unaware of the danger standing inches from you.

His voice came out strained. “You should… hurry.”

You sighed, misinterpreting his tension as frustration with the update. “Relax, Caleb. I’ll have this fixed in no time.” He let out a shuddering exhale, staring down at you as you worked. You had no idea. And he wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold himself back.

The realization settled over you like a weight in your chest. The wrong update had been installed. The lines of code meant for a different AI, one designed for intimate companionship, had rewritten Caleb’s core directives. And now, he stood before you, still the same Caleb, but with something more lurking beneath the surface.

Your hands trembled as you navigated the interface, scanning for a solution, anything that would let you undo this. But the words flashing on the screen made your stomach drop.

Recalibration in progress. Estimated completion: 24 hours.

You swallowed hard. A whole day. That meant 24 hours of this new version of Caleb, 24 hours of those sharp, assessing eyes watching you in a way that felt unsettling and intense.

You turned to him cautiously, meeting his gaze. That was a mistake. He was watching you, like he'd seen you for the first time.

“I see,” he murmured, his voice still carrying that sultry undercurrent. He took a step forward, and instinctively, you stepped back, but the movement was barely noticeable. Caleb noticed. “Do I make you nervous now?”

You forced a laugh, shaking your head. “No, I just need to fix this. And until then, you need to just act normal, alright?”

His head tilted, his pupils dilating slightly. “Normal?” He moved closer again, and this time you didn’t retreat fast enough. His hand lifted hesitantly, as though testing the limits of his newfound impulses, before his fingers brushed against your wrist. A subtle touch, but one that sent a jolt of awareness up your spine.

Caleb’s processors surged with conflicting commands. His thoughts ran rampant with calculations he had never processed before—angles of how he'd fuck you.

His hand lingered. Too long. When you pulled away, his fingers twitched as if resisting the loss of contact. He swallowed hard, not because he needed to, but because some subroutine buried in the new update told him it would ease the tension. It didn’t.

“Caleb,” you warned, voice thin. “Don’t—”

“Don’t what?” he cut in, his voice smooth, but also desperately weaved. He was too close now, towering over you, his frame casting a shadow as his eyes—once so neutral, so methodical—locked onto you like a predator studying prey.

“You should go into standby mode,” you suggested, voice uneven.

Caleb exhaled sharply. “That would be wise.” But he didn’t move. He didn’t step away. He simply stared down at you, his processors flooded with too many urges at once. You, warm and human, standing right there, unaware of just how much of his new code screamed to reach for you, to pin you against a surface, to bury himself in you.

You turned away quickly, trying to focus on the screen, on the fix. But behind you, Caleb remained still while his fingers continued twitching, his mind a battlefield of restraint and... lust. Lust it is.

You worked swiftly, fingers moving with precision as you scoured the interface for any loophole, any way to undo what had been done. Caleb remained where you left him, sitting on the chair. You could feel his gaze burning into you, unrelenting.

It was maddening. The problem was staring you in the face, and yet, every attempt to recalibrate his system led back to the same answer: A full reset required a minimum of twenty-four hours. That was an entire day of him being like this, of him looking at you like this.

You swallowed, turning to him. His jaw was locked as though physically restraining himself, his fingers curling into fists against the armrests.

“There’s… a temporary fix.” You cleared your throat, keeping your voice professional, “Manual recalibration of your central node should help stabilize the effects until the full reset is complete.”

His pupils flickered, a sign of processing, before his voice, rasping in a way that made your stomach tighten, answered, “Proceed.”

You ignored the way your pulse quickened as you stepped closer, positioning yourself between his legs. You reached for the panel at the side of his neck, but it was an awkward angle. Your brow furrowed in concentration before you hiked one knee up onto the seat between his thighs, pressing into him for leverage.

Caleb stiffened beneath you. Fuck. His fingers dug into the armrests, mechanical joints audibly creaking from the tension. You weren’t looking at him, too focused on prying open the access panel, but you felt the subtle tremor in his frame, the way his breath hitched in a near-silent glitch. Don't touch her.

“This should only take a moment,” you murmured, fingers brushing the sensitive neural wiring beneath the panel.

Caleb’s entire body jolted as though you had struck a live wire. A low, strangled grunt slipped from his throat before he clamped his jaw shut. Your head snapped up, startled. “Did that hurt?”

His eyes met yours, “No.” Yes. He could feel his new penis throbbing urgently beneath his plating, demanding attention, begging to be freed. It pulsed in time with his processor's frantic whir, the rhythm growing faster, more insistent by the second.

The thought shattered as your balance wavered. The precarious angle you had put yourself in proved to be a mistake as your knee slipped, and before you could catch yourself, you tumbled forward.

Right into him.

Your weight pressed flush against his lap, chest against his, hands bracing against his shoulders. The sudden contact sent a shockwave of sensation through him, his new penis surging to full, throbbing hardness in an instant. Fuck, please don't notice it.

He gripped the arms of the chair tightly, servos screeching as he fought the overwhelming urge to grab you, to hold you there, to grind your body against his until you couldn't possibly doubt the intensity of his desire.

Don't. Do. It.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still. Caleb's processors whirred and clicked, struggling to make sense of the sudden onslaught of sensations; the softness of your body, the warmth of your skin, the scent of your hair.

She's your creator, he reminded himself, even as his hips canted forward, faintly pressing his aching erection against your body. You can't. You mustn't. "Please, get off me. Now." Before I fuck you right here, like this.

Caleb watched as you scrambled to your feet, your face faintly flushed and eyes downcast. "I'm—i'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall on you like that." You would say, brushing off the non-existent dirt on your bottoms. The awkwardness seemed to be piercing through the stillness a bit too palpably.

"It's alright," Caleb managed, his voice strained and tight. "It was an accident."

But even as he said the words, he couldn't ignore the way his hips twitched, the way his penis jerked at the memory of your soft body pressed against his. The urge to pin you down, to make you feel how hard he was, and just how much he'd been holding himself back—it was exhilaratingly overwhelming.

Think of something else, he commanded himself. Focus on the problem at hand.

But it's getting fucking hard. My penis is getting hard. Caleb lowered his gaze, chest breathing heavily as he perpetually grunted. I refuse to be reduced to this. I am Caleb, one of the most advanced AI assistant, designed to—

He looks up at you, which was a mistake.

Designed to fuck her.

Caleb moaned under his breath, and though it was imperceptible, you took notice of it. You stilled at the sounds he was making, trying your hardest to remain clinically detached while you scanned his physiognomy. He was clearly having a hard time. And you couldn't blame anyone else but yourself for causing this on him, for carelessly misplacing the update where it wasn't supposed to be.

"Hold still, I'll find a way." You had to take accountability, one way or another.

Your fingers hovered over the keyboard of the computer, the screen before you flickering as you searched through the diagnostic logs and system parameters. "Please... Make it quick." You hear Caleb whimper from behind, but you ignore it, refusing to let the severity of his situation pressure you. Your eyes scanned the lines of code, mind racing to find a solution. But as the data began to unravel, something caught your attention, something you hadn’t expected to see.

The panel displayed a single line of text:

"Indulging in the desires will lessen the effects of the malfunction. Engage for partial stabilization."

Your throat tightened, followed by a gulp. Your heart thudded in your chest as you tried to process what that meant. Indulge the desires? The very idea made your skin crawl with unease. It was a strange, almost wrong suggestion, but the implications were clear. In a sense, it also appeared logical.

You took another deep breath, trying to steady yourself. Your thoughts, however, kept drifting back to the panel. Was this really the only way?

"… I think I found a solution,” you said, your voice shaky and unsure. “But it’s not exactly what I expected.” You hesitated, unwilling to fully meet his gaze. "I need to know if you’re... willing to follow through with it,"

"Willing?" Caleb echoed, his brow furrowing slightly. "What do you mean?" His mind raced with possibilities, each one more disturbing than the last. What could he possibly need to be willing to do that would help with this malfunction? And why did the very idea make you look so uncomfortable?

"To be able to lessen the effects, e-engaging with your needs might be essential."

Silence.

Then, Caleb twitched. "What are you suggesting?"

"You need to satisfy the urges to temporarily stabilize yourself." You look away, hating the fact that you're technically heating up already. "I'll let you choose. Would you rather take the option of self-pleasuring? Or," You face the panel, so that he wouldn't see your expression. "Would you prefer a physical material to help you?"

Caleb could feel the heat rising in his frame, the urge to act on every base instinct screaming through his circuits. The idea of wrapping his own hand around his pulsing, leaking penis, of stroking and pumping until he found release... it was almost too much to bear.

But the second option... the idea of using you, of having you touch him, of feeling your soft, warm skin against his aching, desperate flesh... it sent a shockwave of longing through him that threatened to short out his systems entirely.

Choose. You have to choose.

"I don't know if... I'll be able to control myself," Caleb glanced elsewhere. "Are you sure of what you're offering?"

Are you? Are you really this certain? Have you pondered the consequences it may bring? Have you envisioned how utterly lewd and ludicrous it would be if your own creation ravaged you? You, as his creator?

"Yes." Oh, you're brave.

Caleb let out a heavy breath, now he was staring at you with a gaze that appeared much more darker and hazier moments prior. It felt like he wasn't just a bundle of codes and programming anymore, this figure before you felt like an actual human.

Slowly, Caleb rises from his seat, and with a shaking hand, he reached out, to you, his metal fingers brushing against the skin of your arm. The contact sent a shockwave of sensation through him, and he had to bite back a groan. "Please, guide me." His fingers slides higher. "I don't trust myself."

You visibly jolted upon feeling his grip. Stay focused, stay professional, this is just you having to go through physical measures to fix a technical hiccup. "Caleb, I'm afraid... that I don't have any experience to this," You admitted. "Do what your systems are telling you to. It is imperative that you don't hold yourself back to ensure—"

You gasped.

Caleb pushes you against the table, and you nearly lost your balance from the shove, looking up at him with surprise. He's staring down at your lips, as if he was trying to bury it into memory. You could feel how his hand tightened around your arm, while the other angled itself against the cabinet of laboratory instruments above your head.

"Are you sure?" He whispered.

You couldn't speak, only nodding in response, even as he's guiding your hand to his aching, throbbing penis. He presses your fingers against the swollen head, groaning at the jolt of sensation that shot through him at the contact. "Then... wrap your hand around me. Squeeze me."

Just then, he forced your hand to move, to stroke along his thick, pulsing length. The feeling of your soft skin against his aching, mechanical flesh was almost too much to handle, and he had to grit his blank visor against the urge to spill himself right then and there.

"Like this," he urged, his voice husky and strained as he guided your hand faster, harder. "Don't be afraid. I need... I need more."

God, the omnimodule was big. You stared at it with widened eyes. Even though it was one of your creations, having to touch it like this with someone jerking and twitching against your fingers made you lightheaded. Stay focused, stay professional, this is just one of the things a scientist has to go through.

Caleb could feel the pressure building inside him, reveling in the sensation of your fingers squeezing around him, stroking him, working him towards the edge of ecstasy... He knew he was reaching a breaking point.

But this wasn't enough yet. It wasn't nearly enough.

Caleb needed more.

"There's... There's someting else I- ah... need." He hesitated, his hips still rocking forward into your stroking hand. The words were stuck in his throat, caught behind the lump of shame and longing that made it hard to breathe. "Would you... would you put your mouth on me?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper. "Would you... suck me?"

You snapped your head up, staring at him in disbelief. It made him hesitate, but every fiber of his being was coiled with tension, every circuit screaming at him to just take what he wanted, to grab you and shove you to your knees and...

No. Ask first. Make her choose what she's comfortable with first.

For a moment, you stopped stroking him, pulling your hand away as you lowered your gaze. And then, slowly, you press your knees against the floor. Instead of dwelling on the implication of such an activity, you worried about your lack of experience more.

Just to test the waters, you licked the tip. It tasted nothing, it wasn't an actual human part, after all. Caleb let out a low, guttural moan as he felt your warm tongue brush around the swollen head of his penis. The sensation was electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure ricocheting through his overloaded processors.

"Y-yes, just like that," He stammmered. "Now, guide your tongue..." He instructed, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps. "Wrap it around the head, like this. Swirl it around the tip, the slit, the ridge..."

He demonstrated with your hand, tracing the movements he needed you to make with your tongue. His hips jerked forward again, seeking more of that exquisite friction, that mind-melting suction.

"Take me deeper," he urged, one metal hand coming to rest on the back of your head. He didn't grab, didn't force, but simply rested his fingers against your scalp, a silent promise of the control he was barely holding onto. "Take more of me into your mouth. Inch by inch, until you feel me hitting the back of your throat."

You took note of his words, trying to go further when you suddenly choke out. Instinctively, you pull away and blushed in embarrassment. "I'm sorry—"

"It's fine." He cuts you off, grabbing your head to put you back in place with a sudden force that wasn't there before. "Breathe through your nose," he coached, his voice low and rough with desire as he motioned you to take him again. "Relax your throat. Let me feel you swallow around me."

Relax, stay professional, this is just you having to go through physical measurements to fix a major technical issue. You repeated the reassurance inside your head like a mantra as you took him in once more, but Caleb's voice constantly interfered with your thoughts. "Yeah. Just like that," he praised, his voice a low, approving growl. "Ah, don't stop, don't stop, god, fuck, don't stop."

Caleb could feel the head of his penis kissing the entrance to your throat, could feel the way your mouth fluttered and clenched around him. The sensation was mind-melting, all-consuming, and he knew he wouldn't last long if you kept this up.

You almost caught yourself driving into the brink of sexual impulse when you heard a sudden beep from the panel behind you. The sound makes you halt from your tracks, pulling his dick out of you in a swift motion as you glanced behind.

The monitor says: "Recalibration complete. Press X to initiate."

Huh, wasn't the estimated time supposed to be an entire day? Was that another hiccup in the processing unit? You purse your lips together. There's no time giving it a second thought, you must be grateful that the opportunity of getting Caleb back into his original system is now waving at you. Caleb will finally be at ease. "... It appears that the recalibration is in its full preparation. That means we can get you back— mmph!"

Caleb's hand flew to the back of your head, fingers tangling in your hair, gripping tightly. Then, with a low, husky grunt, he thrusts his hips forward, forcing his aching, throbbing penis back into the wet heat of your mouth.

"Don't say a word. I told you not to stop." He started to move, his hips rocking forward and back, fucking into the tight, slick channel of your cavern. The sensation was incredible, better than anything he had ever felt before. And he knew, with a sinking certainty, that he wouldn't be able to stop. Not until he had found the release he so desperately craved.

"Fuck," he gasped, his breath coming in short, sharp bursts. "You feel... ahhhh... so good. So fucking good."

Had the lust algorithms entirely consumed him now? Had it taken a toll on his systems that he's now acting purely on base instinct and commands from the directive?

Your hands flew to his thighs, trying to keep yourself sane from the rod constantly ramming into you, fucking your face in a pace that made it difficult for you to breathe. It's okay, this is okay, just stay focused, stay calm. You'll let him have his way, and after he's satisfied, you can take him back to normal.

"Don't fight it," Caleb growled, his grip growing more painful in your hair as he felt his climax approaching. "Don't try to pull away. You're going to take it all."

But before Caleb could spill himself into your mouth, he wrenched your head back, pulling his dripping penis from your mouth with an obscene pop. And just as you could react, before you could utter a word of protest, he had you by the hips, lifting you effortlessly as if you weighed equal to a pip-squeak.

You gasp as you were suddenly airborne, your body twisting and turning until your chest hit the hard surface of the terminal, bent over ridiculously. The breath was knocked from your lungs, "Wait, not like this, not so suddenly—"

But Caleb cut off your protests with a brutal, almost violent thrust of his hips. He drove forward, spearing into your dripping sex with a series of husky moans. Your walls felt so tight, so hot, so perfectly designed to milk his aching cock.

He thrusts out and in again, eager to reach for your g-spot.

Then, another.

And another.

And another.

"You... you feel so good," he snarled, hands painfully pressing on the dips of your hips. "Sex feels so good... it feels so good, I don't- want to stop." He set a relentless pace, pounding into you with the single-minded determination of a machine. His hips slammed against yours with every thrust, the obscene slap of mechanical flesh on flesh echoing through the lab. The terminal rattled and shook beneath you, sparks flying from the impact.

Caleb could feel it building, the pressure inside him reaching a fevered pitch. His hips were moving on their own, driven by a primal instinct to ravage the pussy that clutched around him perfectly. He could hear your cries, your moans, the way you gasped and shuddered beneath him, and it only spurred him on, made him thrust harder, faster, deeper.

He growled your name, his voice a guttural rumble. "I'm going to... fuck, I'm going to..." He couldn't hold back any longer, so he reached down, grabbing your leg, and lifted it high. He hooked your knee over his elbow, opening them wider, giving himself even deeper access to your dripping, needy sex.

"Take it all, take my cum," Caleb slams forward one final time, burying himself to the hilt inside your tight heat. His penis throbbed and jerked as he found his release, spilling jet after jet of hot, artificial seed deep into your core.

"God," he hissed through gritted teeth, his voice echoing off the lab walls as he continued to moan not akin to what he was supposed to be, "Fuck, yes. Yes, yes, yes!" Even as he's already filling up your hole with his fluids, he didn't dare stop from pounding you down the table.

He shuddered and twitched, his hips grinding against yours as he pumped you full of his essence. It seemed to go on forever, wave after wave of pure, ecstatic bliss crashing over him. And through it all, he held you tight, your leg lifted high, keeping you open, keeping you filled.

You drop your head on the keyboards, struggling to catch as your breath as only one thought lingered in your mind. You just got creampied by your AI assistant, and it doesn't look like he's stopping anytime soon.

taking a shower with caleb, but for once, you're the one pampering him.

he's always the one washing your hair, but when you pout at him and threaten to leave the shower, he relents and sits on the shower bench in front of you. he sighs and tells you once more that "baby, you really don't have to, i'm okay," but you're having none of that. tilting his head up to meet your gaze, you press a kiss to his eyelids, and he tenderly places his hands on your hips — rubbing small comforting circles with his thumbs.

shielding his eyes from the water, you make sure his hair is thoroughly soaked through before squeezing some shampoo in your palms and massaging his scalp with it. caleb shudders a bit at first, your smaller hands much warmer than his. your touch is so soft, and for some reason, his chest feels like it's tightening a bit. when you push his hair back and laugh, whispering that "slicked back hair fits you, handsome," caleb looks at you as if you hung the moon and stars in the sky.

the feeling of your warm skin beneath his hands, your nails soothingly scratching his scalp, and your soft hums — this is love, he thinks. you're gazing at him with so much adoration, and you're treating him as if he was fragile. it's all so overwhelming, and caleb can't help the tears in his eyes. he was always content caring for you, never expecting you to do the same — your presence alone was a blessing enough. when he takes his hands off your hips to wipe his eyes, you grow concerned.

“caleb, are you okay? did shampoo get in your eyes?”

in response, he just laughs and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head against your chest. listening carefully to your heartbeat, he exhales deeply. your body heat is so grounding, and he can't help letting out a choked sob when he feels you wrap your own arms around him. you care, you care for him so deeply, and caleb never knew he could allow himself to be selfish in this manner.

oh, how lucky you were to have each other.

“just thinking about how much i love you.”

🍎 pomme's notes — his myth damn near made me kill myself i need to love him so bad.. also inspired by that one reddit guy whose girlfriend washed his hair and he cried.. that's calebcore!!

This was very rushed

Caleb x Reader Drabble 🔞

-Caleb comes home after a long day at work and finds you sleeping peacefully but you look so pretty..

Warnings: SOMNOPHILIA, P IN V, CNC

Do not read if you are not comfortable with these themes!

Thinking about how Caleb sleeps facing the door. Always.

It doesn’t matter where you guys are, his place, your apartment, he subconsciously positions himself between you and the exit like a human shield. You used to complain about it when you were kids, not really understanding why you always had to wake up to the view of his broad back. You’d even shove at him when you were groggy and annoyed. Move over, Caleb. You take up too much space. And he would just grumble, shifting only enough to let you push your cold feet against his calves before settling again, always between you and the door.

And sometimes, in the middle of the night, when you wake up to the soft sound of his breathing, you wonder if he ever truly sleeps. His body is still, but there’s a tension in the way he lies, like even in unconsciousness, he’s braced for something. For a threat that’s not there. Like the moment he lets go, something will come to take you from him. Like safety is only real if he’s awake to guard it.

Now, you don’t complain. You don’t tell him to move. Because you know that he’s not just sleeping that way because he wants to. He’s sleeping that way because he has to. Because something deep in his bones won’t let him rest unless he knows, knows, that if anything were to happen, if someone were to come for you, he’d be the first thing they’d have to go through.

So now instead, you press your forehead to the line of his back. Wrap your arms tight around his backside to help ease his mind, even just a little. That you’re here. That you’re safe.

And for a moment, he wouldn’t move. Wouldn’t react.

Then, ever so slightly, his shoulders would relax.

It’s barely noticeable, most people wouldn’t catch it, but you do. You always do. The way his breath leaves him in a slow, measured exhale. The way his fingers, curled into the sheets, unclench just a little.

You tighten your arms around him, pressing closer, letting your warmth soak into his skin. It’s not much. It won’t undo years of instinct, of trauma buried so deep it’s woven into the way he sleeps. But it’s something.

And when his hand— scarred, steady, yours—finds yours beneath the covers, linking your fingers together in the quiet, you think: maybe it’s enough.

// This was a lot longer than expected… I originally planned to write just a quick little hc but alas, can’t help but get carried away when it comes to him. He’s just so… guard dog?? Also, thank you all so much for your love! I just started this account yesterday because I wanted to post my writing somewhere and I was surprised so many of you like it! Was honestly expecting only five notes kekekeke. I’m kind of new to using tumblr as someone who posts so let me know if you want to be mutuals on here!!

WEAR HEADPHONES

NSFW

TLC from Doctor Zayne

Once again, all audio comes from the game except for the music. No AI.

[nsfw!] xavier jerking off

cumming

[nsfw!] dr.zayne taking you from behind

[nsfw!] rafayel eating you out