#caleb au

Fraternity member!Caleb x innocent!reader

Warnings: mean!caleb, degradation, dubcon, reader is described as having glasses, nerdy!reader, innocent!reader, crybaby!reader, tummy bulge, pnv, squirting, spitting, piss kink?, lemme know if i missed anything

Series masterlist

Your glasses were foggy and with every breath pushed out by the cock bullying your cervix, you had to swallow the lump in your throat. Though your tears blurred your vision, you didn’t need to see to know large hands were caressing your bare thighs.

Synopsis: Caleb sees you holding a baby and suddenly realizes how much he NEEDS to see a mini-you.

Warnings: Breeding, Baby Fever, Mentions of Pregnancy, Public Smex, Use of ‘Gege’, Size Difference, Sort of Dub-con for half a second.

Caleb always knew he wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. That was a given. But the thought of kids didn’t really fancy him that much, after all, he was so selfish.

Wanting you all to himself at all times.

But today, something had snapped. It was all because of the Farspace Fleet Annual Dinner. He had brought you in like a pretty thing on his arm. Families young and old from his subordinates had gathered in the ballroom.

He had went to fetch you drinks and when he returned, you had a gurgling little boy in your arms. All wide-eyed and chubby fingers grasping at strands of your hair.

He had been uncharacteristically quiet the rest of the evening. “Caleb, are you alright?” You whisper to him as you find your seat at the table.

He clears his throat and tries to force a reassuring smile. “Yeah Pips, of course.”

He was absolutely NOT fine.

You had just meant to grab your jackets from the coat closet before leaving. But somehow that resulted in it being locked behind you with Caleb so fucking deep in your guts you couldn’t breathe.

He hadn’t even bothered to pull the pants of his uniform down all the way. He tucked the band of his boxers right under his tight balls, slipped your panties to the side and fucked you in the extremely small closet.

“C-Cal-mmhh! F-fuck!” You gasped into his ear. The little prep work he had done made the stretch burn so much more deliciously. His Colonel Cap slipped down to shadow his eyes as he growled against your pulse point.

“Oh no Pipsqueak. You knew exactlyyyy what you were doin’. Holding that baby, bein’ all fuckin’-ngh-motherly.”

Your breath caught in your throat, you weren’t sure if it was from the way he was pulverizing your guts or from his words. “I just-b-baby was cute. Ah…~”

Your words cut off by his thumb rubbing tight circles around your sticky little clit. He chuckled in your ear, palm pressed firmly against your tummy where he was so deeeep inside of you.

“Uh huh, sure. Doesn’t matter,” his teeth are nipping at your throat as his shoulders knock dozens of coats into the floor. “-our baby is gonna be 10 times cuter.”

Your hands scramble to find any purchase on his shoulders. His breath is hot and heavy against the crook of your shoulder. “S’-too much Caleb! I-I can’t-not on the pill!” You try and muffle your moan against his uniform.

Caleb just chuckles at that, his swollen cock-head leaving wet kisses against your cervix. “S’ like you wanted me to leave a baby in here Pips. All swollen, achin’ for me huh?”

His thrust grow erratic, your cries building to a crescendo in the Ballroom coat closet. “Caleb I’m gonna-…out! Ngh, pull out!” It’s a half-hearted request really. You KNEW Caleb would be a good dad, would take care of you and a little one with no problem. Caleb clicked his tongue disapprovingly and simply pressed your face against the wall, before wrapping his arms around your waist.

Even though he could’ve easily lifted you with his Evol, it was strong, battle worn arms that held you up so your cute kitten heels were dangling helplessly. He used you like that dumbass pocket-pussy he bought back in his academy days.

Your cunt kinda sounded like it too. All gooey n’ wet n’ all fucked out.

“Yeah, yeah tell me again you don’t want my kid in your belly. Go on Pips. Tell me to stop, and I will.” He’s slamming you up and down his cock to the point you can’t even see straight.

“I-I want it!” You finally admit, walls clenching around his length like it was trying to milk him dry. “Want your babies, w-want you to fill me up-ahhh!”

The little bit of restraint Caleb had, shattered. He’s murmuring absolute filth into your ear as he feels you cum around his throbbing cock.

“Yeahhh, that’s it Pips. Gonna carry Gege’s baby? Gonna have ya all round n’ full of me. Gonna feel soooo nice and tight around me after I pump ya full of my kid. F-fuck I love ya-ngh!” He buries his face into your neck with sloppy kisses as his swollen balls tense up and pump load after load into your quivering pussy.

You don’t trust yourself to walk, and neither does Caleb when your feet touch the ground again. He’s giving you smooch after smooch as he pulls back up your panties, but not before giving your sloppy pussy a few pats for a job well-done over soaked panties.

But damn, poor Gideon only wanted his suit jacket and got free trauma for life!

Imagine you were not meant to be part of his story. That was the truth you learned the day your engagement was announced. When the palace bells rang too loudly, when the court smiled too widely, and when Caleb looked at you with eyes already full of someone else.

Imagine the way he told you on the morning of your wedding, not cruelly. Not dramatically. Just… Honestly. "My heart already belongs to another." You remember how still you felt. How calm. How something in you settled, as if you had already known long before he said it out loud.

Imagine you loved him anyway. Loved him the moment you first saw him at that ball five years ago, crowned in gold and light, laughter easy on his lips, eyes sharp but kind. Had you known then that his heart was promised, that his soul was already entwined with his childhood sweetheart, you would have looked away.

but Imagine love does not ask permission. And regret does not undo what has already rooted itself inside you.

so Imagine you made a choice. That you would never reach for what was never yours. You stood where you were placed, at his side when the court watched, a step behind when they didn't. You smiled when required, spoke when necessary, and vanished quietly whenever he sought her. You learned the art of absence. Learned how to be present without being intrusive.

Imagine you told yourself you were the villain in their fairytale. The foreign noble who arrived too late. The political necessity. The obstacle no one asked for. And perhaps that was true. But you were also necessary.

because Imagine your marriage secured alliances, calmed borders, strengthened his claim to the throne. You were not loved, but you were needed. And Caleb, for all his honesty, could never deny that.

Imagine at first, he was cold. Not unkind. Just distant. Careful. He made sure you understood that nothing would ever change. That no vow, no title, no shared bed would ever make him look at you the way he looked at her. He said it plainly, as if repeating it often enough would make it kinder. And you accepted it.

because Imagine even then, in a way that hurt to admit, you were still his. Not his heart. Not his first choice. But his spouse. By law. By duty. By fate's cruel sense of timing.

Imagine the way something shifted. Not love. Not yet. Trust.

Imagine you had became the person he turned to when council meetings stretched too long, when letters from the capital soured his mood, when sleepless nights drove him back to his study. You listened. You advised. You fought beside him, politically, strategically, silently.

Imagine the way he stopped treating you like a stranger. He started treating you like an ally.

Imagine you rode with him once a month, horses thundering side by side through open fields where titles meant nothing. You sat through weekly councils, speaking only when your voice would matter. You shared late night conversations, candles burning low as the world slept outside his chambers.

Imagine he was still careful. Still guarded. But warmer. And that frightened you more than his coldness ever did.

Imagine then you met her, MC. She was everything the stories promised. Kind. Elegant. Beautiful in a way that did not demand attention but received it anyway. She smiled at you gently, spoke to you politely, and loved Caleb with a sincerity that was impossible to resent.

Imagine you understood him then. Truly. And you understood why the world saw you as the other woman, even when you had never once tried to be. But sometimes, you caught something in her eyes. A flicker. Resentment. Envy. You never understood it. Because she had his heart. Entirely. What more could she fear?

Imagine you never crossed the line. Even when she paired you together. Even when the court whispered. Even when your own feelings grew heavier with each passing day. You saw how she looked at him. And how he looked back. You understood then why the court whispered about you like you were something shameful. And if you had been in their place, you would have whispered too.

so Imagine you never crossed the line. Even when Caleb began to rely on you. Even when he started coming to you first, not to confess love, but to confess exhaustion. Doubt. Anger he couldn't voice anywhere else. You listened. You advised. You stayed up late with him in his study, pretending not to notice how comfortable he had become with you.

Imagine you knew he still loved her. That was the rule. And rules mattered to him. And you were afraid of misreading it. So you stood still. Not moving forward. Not stepping back. Just existing between what was allowed and what was impossible.

then Imagine, the rebellion came. Fire and steel and betrayal in the dead of night. Plans scattered. Screams echoing through stone corridors. You stood with his vassals, mapping strategies, relaying orders until the message arrived like a blade to the chest.

Imagine MC had been taken. A bargaining piece. A demand for his surrender. You went with him without hesitation. A fighter, a hunter, a necessity, just like always.

Imagine you don't notice the blood at first. You notice the heat in your forearms, the way your muscles are burning so hard it feels like something is tearing inside them. You notice how your fingers don't quite feel like they belong to you anymore, how the stone beneath your hands is slick in a way it wasn't seconds ago.

Imagine, MC's body is heavy. Heavier than you expect. Unconscious bodies always are. They don't help. They don't brace. They don't understand when you shift your grip and whisper under your breath, please, please, like the cliff might listen.

Imagine the way your chest aches. Each breath scrapes shallow and sharp, like your lungs can't quite expand all the way. Your arms are shaking now, not the kind of trembling you can fight, but the small, betraying kind that means your strength is already running out.

Imaginr if you let go, even for a heartbeat, you'll both fall. So you press your fingers harder into the rock. Your skin gives way. You feel it split, feel warmth smear beneath your palms, but pain barely registers anymore. Pain is distant. Secondary. Keeping her from slipping isn't.

Imagine the way hou hear the battle behind you, steel striking steel, men shouting, someone screaming a name that doesn't matter. None of it feels real. The only real thing is the edge digging into your ribs and the weight dragging you forward, inch by inch.

then Imagine came the footsteps. Fast. Uneven. Caleb.

Imagine the way he drops beside you so hard the ground shifts beneath his knees. For one small, shameful moment, relief floods your body so violently your grip almost fails right then. He looks ruined, cheeks smeared with blood and dirt, hair stuck to his face with sweat, one eye swelling shut. His clothes are torn like he barely survived getting here at all.

"You- Don't move." He says, breathless. His voice cracks. "I've got you." You shake your head. Not because you're brave. Because you know your limits. "She's slipping." You say, and your voice comes out wrong, too calm, too steady, like it belongs to someone already resigned. "Take her first."

Imagine the way his eyes flick from your face to MC's limp body. He hesitates. It was barely a second. But your body feels everything. The weight shifts. MC's body pulls harder. Your fingers slide just a fraction, skin screaming as the rock grinds deeper into raw flesh. Your arms spasm violently now, a sharp jolt of pain tearing through your shoulders.

Imagine your vision blurs at the edges. You don't have much time left. "Please." You whisper. Its not a plea to be saved. It's an admission. He swears and lunges for her, hauling with everything he has. MC's body scrapes against the cliff, fabric tearing, her head lolling uselessly. For a terrible second you think she'll slip back down, that this will all be for nothing, then the weight leaves your arm.

and Imagine so suddenly your body jolts forward, chest slamming into the edge as your grip almost gives out entirely. Black spots burst across your vision. She's up. She's breathing. That relief is so intense it makes you dizzy. And that's when your fingers finally fail.

Imagine it was not dramatic. They don't just open. They slide. Slow, horrifying inches as blood and sweat betray you, as skin meets smooth stone and finds nothing to hold onto. Your heart stutters painfully in your chest.

and Imagine Caleb turns back immediately. He doesn't think. Doesn't hesitate. He just reaches. His hand closes around your wrist, warm, solid, familiar in a way that makes your throat tighten painfully. His grip is strong, desperate, anchoring.

"I've got you." He says again, louder now. Panicked. Fractured. Like he's trying to convince himself as much as you. For a moment, you’re suspended. Not falling. Not safe.

Imagine you were just hanging there, your entire body screaming, your arms numb and burning all at once. Your wrist throbs where he holds you, pain and comfort tangled together so tightly you can't tell them apart.

Imagine the way your body reacts before your mind can stop it. You relax. Just a little. Because it's him. Because you've trusted him for years. Because your body remembers safety in his hands, even when your heart knows better.

and Imagine in that tiny, fatal release, you understand something with terrible clarity. If he pulls you up, nothing will ever be the same. You will live. And keep standing between him and the life he thinks he owes someone else. You will keep loving him quietly, painfully, invisibly.

Imagine you look up at him. Really look. His face is twisted with fear, eyes wide and raw in a way you've never seen before, like something precious is slipping away and he's only just realized what it was worth.

and Imagine instead of panic, something inside you goes still. Calm settles over you, heavy and final. You smile. Not bravely. Not reassuringly. Content. Like someone finally laying down a weight they’ve been carrying for far too long. Like someone who has already made peace with the ending.

Imagine you don't want him to remember you begging. You don't want him to remember you terrified. You want him to remember this. That you were okay. That you chose this. That you let him go. "It's okay." You tell him softly, your voice barely audible over the wind. "You don't have to choose."

then Imagine there was a sudden, sharp sound, wet and wrong. His arm jerks violently. You feel it immediately, the way his grip spasms, the way his fingers lose strength without his permission. You see his face change, pain flashing through it, horror following close behind.

Imagine his hand slips. And then there is nothing beneath you. The air rushes up to meet you, cold and violent, tearing the breath from your lungs as your stomach drops. The cliff pulls away above you, shrinking rapidly.

Imagine the way time stretches. You see everything. The way his eyes widen impossibly. The way his mouth opens around your name. The way shock, fear, regret, and realization crash over his face all at once.

and Imagine, you keep smiling. Because this is the last thing you can give him. Because if he remembers you like this, calm, accepting, already letting him go. Then maybe he won't chase you into the dark.

so Imagine as the wind roars past your ears. The water rises fast. And then nothing at all.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2025°

:I miss PH, but I do enjoy TH :((((( I'm so sad and suffering nowadays so I shall share my pain with you guys, sorry. I have a morning shift tom.

♡┆caleb with a shy gf!

Just thinking about Caleb with an extremely shy gf. Nobody really expected you two to end up together, after all, you barely intereacted with him, even acting awkwardly to him each time he tried to make you laugh. So, why would they even think that you two would become a thing? But of course they know nothing about neither of you.

Cause yeah, you may be extremely shy when in front of new people, but you're the funniest person he has ever met, plus you're so funny to tease! He loves making fun of you, pressing his arm on top of your head as if you were just a place to rest on, adding to it by grinning and saying something along the lines of: "Oh, I didn't see you there, with you being that small, and all." It doesn't even matter if you're the same height as him, or maybe even taller, cause he will always find some way to tease you, either by messing around with you, even running with your stuff on his hands basically forcing you to chase him around as if you two were still children.

The thing is, something has been bothering Caleb since you two got together. That is how other people have started to notice you, not that he didn't like the fact that others finally noticed you were the cutest in the world, but it just didn't sit right with him for the fact that they just started to pay attention to you after you two started to go out. Suddenly, all girls, even those that had been laughing at the way you spoke in public, wanted to be your friends, asking you to hang out with them after uni, perhaps with the hope of seeing Caleb to pick you up. At the same time, a lot of the boys started to stick to you as a way to try to get to him, either to become friends or just as a way to prove that Caleb wasn't even that hot, that they could easily get to steal his gf with little to no effort. Not like he doubted you, of course, yeah, people knew you were shy, but that didn't mean you weren't able to guess the intentions behind them, simply acting as if you were feeling embarrased as you escaped from those situations.

But you know what's the funniest thing about this whole situation? That you two absolutely complement each other. It may be subtle for most of your friends, but you two notice them. From the way you two completed each other sentences, to how you both started to enjoy the hobbies of the other. This conection was just that strong, even to the point in which your bodies kind of "clicked" when together. Your head perfectly matching as you rested against his shoulder as he kept talking, his hand interlinked with your fingers, caressing them while you two saw a film... The way he hugged you from behind as you two prepared something to eat, the fresh scent that emanated from him making you feel protected...

What you don't know is how Caleb keeps trying so hard to play it cool. He loves you, of course he lets you know that, but he just can't help but feel a bit shy when you put your head against his chest, his heart rate quickening despite how hard he's trying to act tough, but gosh, he can feel his ears starting to burn up each time you give him a peck on his cheek, having to run to the bathroom to wash his face with cold water to stop his face from heating up. He just, he just loves you, ok? And he hates how you put that expression, the one that let's him know that you clearly know what you make him feel each time you do it, specially when his friends are around cause he just know they will mess with him and he just can't deny it cause he's just that in love with you.

a/n: kind of inspired on my bf cause he's just that pookie... I have so many things in mind but I'm so lazy for writing it cause now I feel as if I can't really write properly...

He couldn't blame you for being upset when he messaged you, already 2 hours late for your date, that he couldn't make it. Another emergency at the fleet. It had been a while since you had last seen him, work had been gobbling up both of your time, you were stressed out of your mind and you missed him. So, so much.

You knew it wasn't his fault, you're fully aware of that snakes den called his work. Yet you couldn't help but vent your frustration at him. No matter how much he pleaded, promising to zoom over to your shared house in bloomshore the second he could get away, you weren't having it.

'Just stay at that stupid fleet, Caleb. I'll make other plans.' was the last message you sent before putting your phone on silent, ignoring his begging words.

Luckily for you, you didn't have to be bored tonight. Initially you had declined Tara and Simone's offer to go party. They had teased you saying: "Do you have plans with that 'cousin' of yours?" and "Aren't you guys awfully close for cousins?". It's clear they knew there was a lot more to the story, so you deducted that they wouldn't mind too much if you complained about Caleb to them a bit.

When Caleb finally managed to escape seemingly never ending meetings and briefings about the fuck ups of his subordinates, he rushed to Bloomshore. But the lights were off, the thermometer was on low and the house was empty. Caleb rubs his hands over his face in frustration. After all these days of not seeing you, all these days filled only with work, work and work... All he wanted was to hold you on his arms, even if you'd be beating on his chest with puffed up cheeks, calling him a dummy for coming home so late.

And then he can't help himself. He knows he shouldn't do it, he knows you don't like it, but when you're acting like this, how can he not be worried? And so he opens the tracking app that he secretly connected to your phone, only to see the glowing red dot that signals your location perfectly placed in your apartment.

Had you lied about making other plans? Determined to make up with you, he heads over to your apartment. As he speeds through Linkon city, all he can think about is holding you close, safe in his arms. Just the two of you in your own little world, warm like those summer nights when you were younger.

But that fantasy shatters when he walks into your apartment. "Pipsqueak? Are you here?"

No answer.

No matter how much he searches every room in your little apartment, he doesn't catch a glimpse of you. And your phone that he was tracking? On the kitchen table with on the display 87 messages and 24 missed calls from 'Big Dummy'. In your anger you had changed his name to 'Big Dummy'.

He was prepared to turn the whole city upside down to find you, but luckily for him there was another message on the display.

'Simone: We're at the gate! Come down🥳'

Knowing you were with friends put him slightly at ease, but it didn't calm the storm brewing inside of him. We're you seriously being this petty over something that he couldn't control? You should know more than anyone that he wants nothing more than to be by your side at all times! And no message at all? What if something had happened to you? Why would you put him through his worst fear like this?

And then it dawned upon him. He had been too nice, too soft hearted. Too indulgent of your every whim to the point that you felt like it was okay to punish him if he couldn't immediately meet your demands. Maybe it was time to remind you that at the end of the day, he is in charge.

He would wait in your apartment. Even if minutes felt like hours, he would remain patient as he'd wait for you to come home. He was prepared to wait until the sun rose again, but lucky for him, he soon spotted you, hoist up in between your girl friends as they practically dragged you home. Perfectly in time before the thunder from the dark skies rolls in.

"And you know what? He just ditched me! That's even worse than blowing up!" He hears your slurred words from the hallway as your friends desperately try to get your finger on the panel at the door.

"Yeah, he blew you off.. you told us.. quite a lot actually." Simone's voice, he recognises it.

"Wait... did she just say he 'blew up'?" Tara's voice questions, but she is easily distracted by the happiness of finally opening the door.

Both of your friends shriek when they swing the door open and are met with Caleb's statue, still clad in his fleet uniform, partially illuminated by a perfectly timed lightning strike outside. You, however, only frown and glare.

The coldness in Caleb's face warms up a bit when he addresses your friends, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes. "Sorry, did I scare you? I was waiting for... my cousin, since she wasn't answering her phone. I hope she didn't cause the two of you too much trouble?" He says to them, but his eyes never leave you.

"It's fine..." Simone begins "She just needed to blow off some steam, that's what friends are for.."

"I guess so... I'll take it from here, I ordered you girls a cab when I saw you arrive. Take it as my apology for my cousins behaviour, it can take you back to the city or to your homes, whichever you like." Caleb announces.

"Thanks, but are you sure you've got it?" Tara says, unsure if she should be more worried for him or for you at this point.

"Don't worry, I've dealt with her in worse states before." He reassures and the girls take it as their sign to leave.

When the door closes behind your friends and you open your mouth, ready to unleash your frustration onto Caleb verbally, he beats you to it.

"Sit down." He hisses, pointing at the bar stool next to your kitchen island. You want to object, fight back, but he doesn't let you. "I suggest you keep quiet until you've sobered up. I said sit down."

You weren't listening to him, you were just sitting down because your legs are tired. Or atleast, that's what you tell yourself. It's definitely not because you don't think you've ever seen Caleb this angry and you're definitely not even a little intimidated by it.

He grabs a glass, filling it with water and slamming it onto the kitchen island so hard that you are surprised it didn't shatter. Then he pulls out another bar stool and sits in front of you, a stern expression on his face as he states you down.

"Drink."

There's none of his usual softness. No pleads for you to take cate of yourself, no teases to get you to hydrate, no gentleness like you're used to. And that might be even more sobering than the water.

You sit there in silence for a while, Caleb's eyes never leaving your face until he's sure there is more brightness in your eyes, until he's sure you're sober enough to actually understand what will be happening.

"... why are you here?" Are the first words you say to him. There's some bitterness but even more confusion.

He scoffs at your question.

"Well, if you had checked your phone, maybe you would've known that I went to Bloomshore as soon as I could, hoping to find my sweet pipsqueak there. Yet I was greeted with nothing but silence. Then I went to your apartment, only to find that empty too. The only trace of your recent presence being your phone and a bunch of missed notifications from someone called 'Big Dummy'."

There is a moment of silence between the two of you before he speaks again.

"I've indulged you too much... So I guess I am also partly to blame for this. But that doesn't mean you'll get away with it."

In one swift motion he grabs your wrist, dragging you with him to the couch, not caring if you're stumbling behind him. Before you can regain your balance, you are sprawled over his lap, head down, ass up.

He doesn't waste any time, hand lifting the fabric of your skirt, the one you put on to go dancing but you never made it past the pregame bar. His gloved hand rubs the plump flesh, kneading it occasionally.

"You know, I don't mind you being a brat... if anything, I enjoy it. I don't mind being walked like a dog if it's by you," his hand raises "but you've become unreasonable."

You yelp as his hand meets your skin, the sound of the slap echoing through your apartment.

"I try to give you anything you want. No matter how much it takes, how much it costs, how much time it needs... yet I never hear a thank you."

Another strike on the other cheek. Tears spring in your eyes, but he continues.

"Instead you punish me when I can't immediately deliver? Oh no, no, no... that's not how it works, pipsqueak."

Another strike. You sob as he rubs the skin, not just because it hurts, also because guilt creeps up. Yet, for some reason, you can't help but rub your thighs together. Something about the unfamiliar way he's acting, the strictness, the roughness, it makes you feel tingly. He notices the way you squirm in his lap and the wet spot forming on your panties.

God, you're testing him.

He bites down on the tip of his glove, releasing his hand from it, before pulling down the undergarment. He goes back to rubbing and kneading the now bared, red and sensitive skin.

"All that attitude, all that demanding..." his voice is softer now "yet I turn into your dog the second you look at me with those eyes and ask gege for anything... 'gege, I want ice cream', 'gege, take me to the zoo' or 'gege, I don't want to do my homework anymore'..."

His fingers gilde down the back of your thighs before carefully settling between them.

"And now? Is there anything you want from gege? Say it.."

His fingers slide through your lower lips and your mind instantly goes mush. Your wetness instantly coats his fingers and he has to hold back from not immediately plunging his fingers inside your core, desperate to make you feel good. He wants you to ask nicely first.

So when he pulls his fingers away from where you need him most and you let out a desperate moan, he can't help but let out an amused hum.

He leans down to your ear.

"All you need to do is ask gege nicely, pipsqueak... you know I can never say no to you..." he whispers in a low tone that sends a shiver down your spine.

You want to fight, you want to object, but God are you desperate for his touch.

"Cal--" smack!

You yelp as his hand collides with the sensitive skin of your ass.

"Nuh-uh... you don't get to call me that right now." He taunts as his hand soothingly rubs the skin he just struck.

You grumble some angry words under your breath, but the way he sucks in his breath and roughly kneads your flesh warns you to be careful.

".... gege..." you plead, but the way he avoids touching you where you need him, tells you it isn't enough. "... touch me."

He spanks you again.

"I should've thought you better..." he mutters but there's something sultry in his tone, "but it's never to late to learn... ask nicely."

You turn your head to face him, ready to tell him off, but his sadistic smirk makes you reconsider. He doesn't like withholding, but if he can teach you a lesson right now, he'll do it.

"Gege... please..." you mumble defeated.

"Please what, pipsqueak?" He asks awfully sweet. "Use your words... you're a big girl, right? Big enough to drink yourself stupid, so the least you can do is use big girl words... now, ask properly."

Too desperate to fight, you push your pride to the side.

"Gege... please, touch me... I need you..."

"Good girl." He grins before slipping his fingers inside of you.

You gasp as his fingers work their way around your inside, repeatedly hitting the right places. His thumb circles your clit, making sure you're stimulated from both the inside and outside.

"Feels good, huh? Gege is making you feel good, right?" He says prideful and breathlessly. You can feel him growing hard as he pokes into your side.

"You look so pretty... all of your cheeks are red, pipsqueak, like little apples.."

His digits are being sucked in by your entrance, the throbbing and grip fueled by his words.

"Tell gege how good it feels..." he demands.

"Feels.. s-so good..." you stammer "please... don't- don't stop! Need more..."

Using his teeth, he takes off his other glove, putting his bared fingers in your mouth. You suck on them, desperately wanting to feel him everywhere.

The fingers inside your pussy speed up as he feels you tighten around them, rubbing the right spot religiously while you moan and gag around the fingers in your mouth.

It doesn't take much more for you to come undone all over his hand, loud moans leaving your mouth resembling the word "gege" but not quite being fully coherent.

He let's you ride it out, slowing down until your body goes limp in his lap. His fingers gently pull out of you, a string of your juices still attached to them. He curses under his breath, mesmerised by the hotness of it all.

With a little help of his evol, he turns your body so you're straddling his lap, juices still dripping onto him, but he likes that.

You're shaking a little so he pulls you into his chest, hand gently tapping the back of your head.

"There, there.... you were so good for gege..." he whispers into your ear. "Such a pretty, good girl..."

A kiss on your forehead helps you ground back to reality.

"You know I don't make you wait on purpose, right?" He begins, sounding a bit more serious now. "As much as I want to be by your side at all times, I can't do so until I've gotten rid of everything that could harm you... I want to give you everything you wish for, but sometimes it will take time... and I get that it makes you upset, but I'd rather you hit me and curse me for being late until you're no longer angry than you disappearing on me. You understand?"

You push off from his chest, just enough to look up at him and slam your fist onto his chest.

"You were late... Big dummy.."

The surprise on his face is quickly taken over by a boyish smile. He places a quick peck on your lips.

"I know, I'm sorry... but I promise, for the next few days, nothing and no one can take me away from you... I'll be all yours, all yours to keep by your side and command..."

"Really? Then... gege, let me help you with that..." You say as your hand slides down his torso to the tent that still stands proud in his pants.

Before you can say anything else, you're hoisted up into his arms as he carries you to your bedroom.

"Whatever you wish, colonel pips..."

(((Uhm... hi... its been a while lol..

So long story short; I'm in uni again, life has still been kicking mi ass, this was supposed to be like a 15 minute drable yet I spent the whole evening on it.. y'know how it go...

Anyway, hope u enjoyed, didn't proof read or anything... hihi

P.s. for those confused about the "cousin" part, I recommend you look up the cn version of calebs latest free 4 star.. it also makes the memory make a lot more sense in my opinion..

P.s.s. I'm not going to promise I'll be working on requests or anything soon because I'll feel bad if it doesn't work out, sorryyy 🙏🏻

P.s.s.s. hope everyone is good🩷

this one's a little longer but i don't think anyone's complaining

also the panty sniffer agenda is still alive over here what who said that

18+! minors dni! it gets a lil spicy! i am not responsible for what you consume!

professor sylus | professor zayne | professor xavier | professor rafayel

acc. masterlist

also, i kind of want to turn these into more formal one shots or do a part two for them! let me know if you want to see that!

professor caleb . . . who is known around campus to be the fun and engaging professor who lets his students get away with a lot

professor caleb . . . who walks to his classroom with an apple in his mouth and his arms are full of papers and folders

professor caleb . . . who walks directly into you while not paying attention, his papers getting mixed in with yours

꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ SYNOPSIS. you, a hybrid therapist specializing in rehabilitating traumatized former pets, find that your life becomes pretty interesting once you decide to foster and take a puppyboy with the most pitiful amethyst eyes you’ve ever seen from the local kill shelter as a client. this is a series of drabbles, headcanons, imagines, & oneshot fics set in the same universe in no particular order (as of this being posted. may be added later!) ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ CW. puppyboy!caleb (he’s a wolf-dog hybrid), fem!reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, crack, angst, traumatic themes and depictions of PTSD, forbidden romance, erotica (each installment will be individually tagged), not beta-read, sporadic updates, ++ more to be added ꒰ ᧔ෆ᧓ ꒱ NOTE FROM THE KENNEL. these works are only for those who are 18+, minors do not interact. now that the minors have gone away, hi! i couldn't resist writing a series for the goodest boy ever, so here we are lol,, i'm far from being an actual therapist so please forgive me if i get some things wrong :sob: anyways, i hope you enjoy this series as much as i am enjoying writing it!! feel free to comment under this post to be added to a taglist specifically for my good boy, caleb.

ᐡ ᐧ ﻌ ᐧ ᐡ 𓂃 MEMORIES / PROGRESS NOTES.

( 𐂯 : NSFW CONTENT )

꩜ ⸝⸝ PUPPY DOG EYES!

꩜ ⸝⸝ CALEB’S FIRST HEAT! ( 𐂯 )

꩜ ⸝⸝ TRIP TO THE VET!

꩜ ⸝⸝ CALEB GIVING YOU A LITTER OF PUPS! ( 𐂯 )

꩜ ⸝⸝ CALEB'S FIRST PLAY DATE!

꩜ ⸝⸝ WHAT’S GOTTEN INTO YOU, BOY? ( 𐂯 )

+ ⸻ subject to change & be added upon . . .