RING IT ON!

When Caleb first threatened about putting a collar on you—complete with that tiny, innocent bell—the situation had been tangled, heavy, almost too much. You brushed it off back then, buried it deep down into your heart. But now… now the thought alone makes the heat coil low in your belly, shameful and undeniable.

So when you actually show up with the real thing—a soft black leather collar, golden bell dangling quietly—you can see the exact second his brain short-circuits.

“You want me to—” His voice cracks, purple eyes blown wide and glassy as they lock onto yours. His chest rises and falls in shallow, helpless pants. “You’re serious?”

You bite your lower lip, slow and deliberate, giving him the heaviest bedroom eyes you can muster. “Put it on me, Colonel…” Your voice drops, syrupy-sweet. “…and then fuck me stupid.”

Caleb’s knees actually give. He catches himself on the headboard, knuckles white, leaning in so close you can taste his ragged breathing. “Pipsqueak…” he rasps, tongue darting out to wet his lips like he’s starving. “You have no fucking idea what you just unleashed.”

Minutes later the bedroom is a warzone.

Your clothes are somewhere across the room—doesn’t matter where. Caleb is still mostly in uniform, dark coat shoved open, chest bare and heaving, pants just low enough to free his aching dick. The moment the collar settles around your throat, he pauses—gentle despite everything—and presses the softest kiss to your forehead.

“Tell me if it’s too tight, yeah?” he murmurs, voice wrecked.

You nod, already whimpering, pussy clenching desperately around nothing.

He teases you first—lazy, torturous glides of the fat head of his cock through your slick folds, never quite pushing in. The friction is maddeningly slow, dragging broken little sounds from both of you. He stares down at your naked body spread out beneath him, collared, marked as his, bell glinting faintly with every tiny shift.

“Fuck…” he breathes, almost reverent. “Look at you. Hottest goddamn thing I’ve ever seen… such a filthy little thing, begging to be ruined like this.”

Then he finally sinks in—slow, deliberate, stretching you open inch by thick inch until he’s buried to the hilt. You both moan, loud and wrecked.

He holds there for a second, panting, eyes locked on yours.

“Feel that?” His voice is gravel. “Feel how fucking deep I am inside you?”

Before you can answer he snaps his hips forward—hard. The blunt head of his cock slams against your cervix. You cry out, body jerking. The bell chimes sharply.

Ring.

He freezes for half a heartbeat… then a feral, manic grin splits his face.

“Oh you’re fucked now, baby.”

His hands clamp down on your hips, bruising, possessive—and then he starts pounding.

Relentless, deep ’n filthy.

Every brutal thrust makes the bell ring out—bright, obscene little chimes that mix with the wet slap of his heavy balls against your ass, your broken cries, his choked whimpers and filthy praise.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

Skin on skin. The creak of the bedframe. His low, desperate growls.

“Fuck—fuck—look at you taking it so good… my pretty little baby—”

He’s gone. Completely lost in it.

And from the way the bell keeps singing with every punishing roll of his hips… yeah.

He’s definitely discovered a new kink tonight.

Thanks to you.

caleb is so silly!

caleb's powerful thrusts finally eased into a languid grind, his thick cock still pulsing deep inside your slick, clenching pussy as he leaned down, his breath hot and ragged against your sweat-dampened neck. beads of perspiration trailed down his toned chest, catching the dim light of the bedside lamp, while your body quivered beneath him, every muscle loose and overstimulated from the hours of relentless pounding.

he flashed a wicked, boyish grin, his dark eyes sparkling with that familiar teasing glint as he hovered over your flushed, blissed-out face.

"break time!"

with a deliberate, teasing slowness, he withdrew his throbbing length from your soaked folds, the wet, obscene pop echoing in the quiet room, leaving you feeling achingly empty and exposed. you collapsed fully onto the rumpled sheets, your chest rising and falling in heavy pants, limbs splayed out like you were made of jelly, a pitiful whine slipping from your parted lips at the loss of his filling heat.

caleb chuckled softly, the sound low and affectionate, as he rolled to the side and reached for his half-empty water bottle on the nightstand, his muscles flexing with the casual movement. he twisted off the cap and took a deep, refreshing swig, the cool liquid sliding down his throat while he watched you with amused fondness, your thighs twitching faintly from the aftershocks.

he held the bottle toward you, droplets of condensation beading on the plastic, his free hand idly tracing lazy circles on your hip.

"c'mon pips, you want some?"

another soft whine bubbled up from your throat, your eyes half-lidded and glassy, body too wrecked and heavy to even lift your head, let alone sit up for a drink—your pussy still fluttered with phantom echoes of his cock stretching you wide.

"no.. m'tired."

caleb huffed in mock exasperation, a playful pout tugging at his lips, before he took another generous gulp, the water cool against his tongue. without warning, he shifted closer, his strong arm wrapping around your waist to pull your limp form against his chest, and sealed his mouth over yours in a deep, messy kiss.

the water poured from his lips into your waiting mouth in a teasing trickle, mixing with the salty tang of your shared sweat and your own lingering moans; you gulped it down frantically, your throat working around the sudden flood, nearly choking as it hit the back of your throat too fast.

you jerked back with a sputter, coughing lightly, your cheeks burning even hotter as you glared up at him through watery eyes, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. then, slap! you brought the back of your hand to his face.

"you idiot, i almost choked."

caleb's laughter rumbled deep in his chest, his expression pure mischief, eyes crinkling at the corners as he propped himself up on one elbow, gazing down at you with feigned innocence.

"but youu didn’tttt! hehe"

his fingers danced lightly over your cheek, tucking a stray lock of tangled hair behind your ear, the touch feather-soft and intimate, sending little shivers racing across your oversensitive skin despite your exhaustion.

"you’re not actually done are you? d'you wanna go again?"

your lower lip jutted out in a tired pout, your voice coming out in a breathy, whiny drawl as you nuzzled into the pillow, trying to hide your face.

caleb's chuckle turned into a throaty hum of delight, his hand embarking on a slow, exploratory path down the curve of your side, fingertips grazing the swell of your breast, the dip of your waist, before dipping lower to tease the slick, swollen lips of your pussy.

"you said we could go for houuurrs and i shouldn’t stop even if you begged me too."

you let out a sharper whine, your hips bucking involuntarily into his probing fingers as he circled your clit with agonizing gentleness, the fresh sparks of pleasure making you clench around nothing, tension coiling tight in your belly once more.

his voice dropped to a husky murmur, laced with that underlying seriousness amid the flirtation, as he leaned in close, lips brushing your ear.

"if you get too overwhelmed, you know our safeword."

your eyes fluttered open, a sly, smug grin spreading across your kiss-swollen lips even as your body betrayed you with a needy arch, your breath hitching at his insistent touch.

"you remember it right?"

"mmmm… big brother?"

caleb's jaw clenched visibly, the veins in his neck and temple throbbing with restrained intensity, but the corners of his mouth twitched in an almost-smile, a mix of exasperation and dark arousal flashing in his eyes. in a blur of motion, he gripped your hips firmly, flipping you onto your stomach with effortless strength, your face pressing into the sheets as he settled behind you, his hard cock nudging insistently against your ass.

"five more rounds! wow pips you’re super eager," he giggles low, the sound vibrating through you as he aligned himself and thrust back into your dripping pussy in one powerful stroke, filling you completely and setting a renewed, punishing rhythm that turned your whines into breathless moans.

a/n - inspired by recent post by @oupp13s31 on twt !! <33

cw: pseudo-incest

⭑.ᐟ

it's so easy to want to jump his bones, make him stiff as a rock and beg for her tongue. his muscles contort and twist with each move he makes, his golden skin like honey to her buds. he looks so good like this, still soaked in his own sweat after a military-style workout.

caleb is so damn relentless on himself, leaves absolutely zero room for disappointment. knows how to sculpt himself, as if he were his own maker. maybe that's why it's so easy for him to crumble down for her, to just let his angel do whatever it takes to ruin him entirely. his favorite view is watching her stare up at him while dragging her tongue from his taut balls all the way up to his aching tip, pearls of cum dribbling out in pre-game for what's to come.

her hand runs up and down his length with ease, fingertips pressing down on that familiar vein that buldges out. he runs his hand through her scalp and then tugs, cooing at her to keep going, if she knows what's good for her. and god, does she fucking know.

he can't help himself from telling her to keep that mouth open, from smacking her across the face just how she likes it, does it even harder the more she begs for him to hit her again.

"again, please, again!" her wails are a symphony to his cock, his calloused palm striking her once more.

"mhmm, be a good little hole for me." he growls back, slamming his entire length into her throat with what little warning he gives her.

and she just takes and takes. she's built to be destroyed, defiled, and humiliated on his fat cock.

"you're gonna have to swallow this load, pips. you know how to do it. show me how good you are at sucking me."

she's driving her hips up and down on the ground as if it's his cock, her hole throbbing with each time his dick smashes into the depths of her. her moans vibrate around him so fucking deliciously, it makes him shake into a frenzy.

"fuck yes, m'cumming, shiiit—" he tosses his head back to thank his lucky stars for having such a wonderful sister who knows how to milk him so perfectly. his hands shove her further down, feeling her throat close in spasms from her gagging.

"tell me how thankful you are for gege's cum." he yanks her off of him, his sopped cock colliding against her angelic profile while humming. mascara runs down her reddened cheeks as she manages a smile. it's full of sperm and slobber, painting her the perfect whore for him. it makes him harden once more.

"thank you, gege." she nuzzles against his length, moaning each time he knocks it against her.

his laugh is like the devil. “god, you’re so cute. especially with my cock next to your pretty face.”

Jealousy, Jealousy

This was inspired by the Caleb art in the banner by @baobei-bu please love on ALL their art!! Their JJK/LADS art is PEAK

Pairings- Yandere! Caleb x F!reader

Warnings- PWP pretty much, a smut oneshot- HEAVY yandere Caleb, mating press, cum play, oral (f recieiving) tummy bulges, cervix hitting, panty stealing, fingering, overstim, he calls you pip squeak LMAO, JEALOUS obsessed Caleb

My first time for Caleb hehe, rbs/comments appreciated if you enjoyy

"Who is that, Pip squeak?" Caleb murmurs that question with a little smile, as you tense just a bit, feeling your cheeks heating up under his scrutiny, sipping on the straw of your milkshake, letting the sweetness hit your tongue. The two of you have been gaming the day away, taking just a little break in the kitchen now

"It's a... friend." That's what Xavier was really, your sweet friend, who is currently sending you heart emojis.

"Oh, a friend huh? Why so secretive then?" He teases, tapping your nose and just being far... far too close. You shouldn't think so many things about him like this, should you? But you can't help but like his cologne a little too much, like just how his brown locks were falling over his forehead just so, how you can see so much of his muscles flexing in what he wore.

"Just a friend." Your little smile drives him insane, he outwardly laughs, but he can't stop thinking of who's been with you while he's been away, has anyone touched you? When you're meant to be his.

"Let me see then." He yanks your phone high, dark violet eyes flashing for a moment, turning as you sputter and he scrolls through your last messages. "And who is Sylus... Rafael and... Dr. Zayne, I know him, and-"

"Give me my phone back, jerk!" You jump for it, but Caleb is stupid tall, holding it up and feigning a smile he really doesn't feel like giving right now, thoughts racing.

Were you with somebody?

That would never do.

Perhaps he's been gone too long, and you've found someone, but that wouldn't last long when you'd be his. Caleb hands you it finally, laughing a bit as he pats your head. "Relax, Pip Squeak, I was just messing with ya. So cute when you're angry."

"Oh, whatever. Back to the game?" He nods, watching as your bouncy ass sways in whatever excuse for a shorts those were, furious if anyone has ever gotten to see you like this.

You're sitting up on the couch now, legs spread so he sees just a hint of your perfect pussy that lace was hugging, his throat goes dry when you hand him the controller. He smiles with ease, sitting on the floor, hoisting your thighs around his shoulders then, and you pause, faltering just a bit, breath caught in your throat. It should be casual. You two have gamed close forever, but he's so close to your heat, your thighs brushing against his hot skin. Just a white tank top and your shorts separating you both.

"You blushed really hard when I mentioned Sylus huh?" He asks now, as he moves the controllers, and you gulp just a bit, fidgeting some.

"No... imagining things."

When Caleb asked you to pretend to be his girlfriend so he can fend off his horde of admirers at the DAA, you didn’t bat an eye. Caleb always had admirers and now that his college peers don’t know you’re his sister, you can successfully take on the role of girlfriend and fool them into giving Caleb the peaceful semester he wants. After all, a clingy and jealous girlfriend was a much better deterrent than a clingy and jealous younger sister. 

But the amount of people vying for Caleb’s attention has increased ten-fold since you were in middle school. After all, Caleb was a talented pilot, a star athlete, an intelligent student, and a very attractive guy—he was the whole package as everyone at the DAA was so eager to tell you. 

So in order to really sell the lie, you had to go the extra mile, at least according to Caleb. That’s why for the whole day, you were pressed to his side, his arm around you, your fingers intertwined. 

“We have to pretend to be in love for this to work, pipsqueak.” He had whispered in your ear when you had tensed up the first time he did it. But his usual playful voice put you at ease. 

Yeah, he was just trying to sell the ruse. It would be pointless if people weren't convinced, right? So you loosened up and leaned into him the same way you had done countless times before, only this time it was in front of an audience. 

What you hadn't done before, though, was kiss. But that was needed to sell the lie too, wasn't it? After all, what kind of boyfriend doesn't kiss his girlfriend when he wins the big game?

୨୧ — Each thrust punches a cute, breathy “ah-ah-ah” out of you, and Caleb's so focused on the way your cunt is finally taking him easier now -slick and swollen and perfectly molded to him after hours of training- that he almost misses it…

But then the dim light from outside the window catches the movement of your stomach, and his hips stutter to a halt.

“What…” his voice comes out strangled- those pretty violet eyes growing wide, fixed on the subtle but unmistakable bulge in your lower belly, “is that…”

“C-Caleb?” You blink up at him through your fucked out haze, confused by the sudden stillness, “why’d you stop-“

He pulls back slowly, watching his thick length drag out of your stretched hole- and then slams home again, eyes locked on your abdomen.

There it is. The distinct outline of his cock, distending your belly from the inside.

Oh fuck… That’s me. That’s- I’m so deep I can see myself inside her…

“Pipsqueak,” he breathes, hand drifting to your stomach, pressing down experimentally.

You wail.

The pressure makes you clench around him so hard that Caleb’s eyes roll back, and suddenly that dark, possessive part of him that he'd kept locked away for years is roaring to the surface.

“Look at that,” he murmurs, starting to rock his hips in shallow thrusts while his palm stays pressed against the bulge. He can feel himself moving inside you, feel the way your soft belly yields to accommodate his size. “You feel that, Pips? Feel how deep I am?”

“Nnngh- s’too much-“ Your hands fly to grip his wrist, but you can't tell if you're trying to push him away or pull him closer. Everything is sensation, the dual pressure of his cock splitting you open and his hand pushing down making your brain short-circuit.

“Too much?” Caleb's laugh is breathless, almost delirious. He's staring at where his hand meets your stomach like it's the most fascinating thing he's ever seen, “Baby, I think this might be my new favorite thing.”

He shifts angles, pulling almost all the way out before driving back in with a wet squelch, and this time he watches- watches the bulge appear, pushes down on it, feels his cockhead pressing against his own palm through the thin barrier of your flesh.

“CALEB-!”

I'm going to fuck her every day until this place finally feels like home.

“So pretty,” he coos, and the contrast between his sweet words and the brutal pace of his hips is making you dizzy, “my pretty girl, stuffed so full of my cock that I can see it in your belly.” His thumb traces the outline of himself through your skin, pressing in, and your vision finally whites out, “You know what this means, right?”

You can barely form words, drool leaking from the corner of your mouth as he pounds into you, “W-what- ahh- what does it-“

“Means no one else could ever reach this deep.” His voice drops to a growl as he adjusts his grip on the headboard to drive even harder into your abused cunt. “Means this spot-“ he punctuates with a thrust, pressing down on the bulge simultaneously, “-right here-“ another thrust, another press, and you're sobbing now, “-belongs to me.”

You're cumming before you even realize it's happening, walls clamping down on him while you thrash against the sheets. But Caleb doesn't stop. If anything, he speeds up, chasing his own release while his hand remains firmly planted on your stomach.

“Gonna fill you up again, okay? Gonna pump you so full you'll bulge even without my cock inside- mph-“

He hilts himself one final time and grinds, and you can feel every pulse and twitch of him as he spills deep inside your womb.

When he finally catches his breath, Caleb doesn't pull out. Instead, he rearranges your boneless body, settling you onto your side with him spooned behind you, cock still buried to the root.

His hand finds your belly again, pressing gently where you're still stretched around him.

“Definitely my new favorite thing,” he murmurs against your hair, thumb stroking lazy circles over the subtle swell.

SOULMATE? HOLEMATE!

⚘. summary Ꮺ You ordered a custom dildo that perfectly matches your big-brother-figure Caleb’s dick. Caleb ordered a pocket pussy that perfectly matches your's. Neither of you knows the toys are synced to the real thing. Now every time one of you fucks your toy, the other feels it—like ghost sex on steroids. You’ve both spent months thinking you’re being haunted by the supernatural while secretly fucking each other senseless through the wall. The feedback loop goes haywire. No one is surviving this vacation with their sanity intact.

⚘. content warnings Ꮺ pseudocest, og cn gege/meimei trope, heavy dubcon, masturbations, unsolved sexual tension, zero communications, guilt, denial, forbidden desires, sexual frustration, mutual yearning, usage of sex toys, magical sex toys that secretly link to other person's body(portal panties), mutual fucking, semi-public/public, double penetration, extreme tightness + involuntary orgasms, excessive cumming/squirting, porn with little no plot . . .18 + ★ MINORS DNI !

⚘. wc Ꮺ 6k+

⚘. cherry’s note Ꮺ this is probably the weirdest scenario I've written so far... took me some real good TIME to finish...

“And that’s the last box,” you huff, letting the cardboard thud against the scuffed hardwood near the doorway. You straighten up straight, rolling your shoulders, wiping the sheen of sweat from your forehead with the back of your wrist. The tiny apartment looks like a warzone of luggage and flat-pack furniture Caleb swore you “absolutely needed”—his credit card, his orders, his quiet, stubborn way of still taking care of you even when he’s hundreds of miles away.

Linkon City air tastes different. Sharper. Lonelier.

You’ve been here three weeks and it still doesn’t feel like home. Maybe it never will without him barging through the door, scolding you for leaving dishes in the sink or for forgetting to eat again.

A sigh slips out as you kick off your sneakers. Shower first, chaos later.

Clothes hit the floor in a careless pile. The bathroom is barely big enough for one person, but the water pressure is perfect—hot, punishing, exactly what your sore muscles crave. Steam fills the cramped space, fogging the mirror, swallowing every reflection that isn’t you.

You tip your head back, letting the spray pound against your throat, your collarbones, sliding down between your breasts. The heat loosens something inside your chest.

Caleb’s face flashes behind your closed eyes uninvited. Always uninvited, yet always there.

Sharp jaw. Tired eyes that soften only for you. The way his pilot uniform hugs his shoulders now that he’s filling out, taller and broader every time he comes home on break. The way he still calls you “little pipsqueak” even though you’re not little anymore.

You shouldn’t.

You really, really shouldn’t.

But your hand is already moving, gliding over slick skin, tracing the curve of your waist, the dip of your navel, lower.

“You must’ve felt this heavy too, gege…” you whisper to the steam, voice trembling with guilt and something darker. “All alone in Skyhaven… in that big empty house with no one to—”

Your fingers slip between your thighs, parting swollen folds, finding yourself already soaked and it has nothing to do with the shower.

wolves among the flock

It'd be easier to realize you were a wolf in sheep's clothing, clinging to the loyal dog that tended to the flock.

Something has always been wrong with you.

You feel it. Deep in your soul, coiling through the blood in your veins, thrumming under your skin. You hope it doesn't show in the unblinking nature of your watchful eyes, in the way your teeth bare a little too much when you try to smile like the other kids do.

But they see through it. They all do.

THIS IS SO GOOD WHAT?? THE VIBES AND EVERYTHING ARE TOP TIER.

i love the characterization. You managed to bring life to these two in such implicit ways!! UGHH I’M INLOVEE

This is so real. growing up, I was that kid. I felt the same way whenever I made friends

its true for the entire thing ngl. like— every bit of emotion the mc feels is so relatable and realistic. you did such a great job with that!! same for caleb!! it was apparent something was off with him, but it was subtle enough for readers to suppress that inkling until the end. i love how theyre both messed up. i love caleb precisely because i find comfort in his obsession. you portrayed it so well!!

the feelings the mc was feeling was so relatable and it made my heart crumble😭😭

anyways uhm sorry for yapping

Random Facts: Caleb

Home Tour, Part 2:

Good morning, class lol. Let's kick the analysis series off with Caleb's living room! This post will also explain the "unknown area" listed in the first post and then very briefly touch on the kitchen.

Throughout the main story, Caleb's living room is depicted in various stages of decoration. The first depiction (left) is shown when the protagonist first enters his home. They give us a panning shot of it, so I've stitched the image together as per usual. This initial depiction is what I used for my floorplan sketch. But over the timeline of the story, we're shown various additions (right) to the decoration:

For this next part to make sense, I'd like to point out the following living room details because they're very important:

In the "Captive Bird" portion of the Main Story, we get two scenes that occur in the "Unknown Area": scene #1 (when Caleb is treating the protagonist's wounds) and scene #2 (when Caleb and the protagonist argue). Based on what we can see in both scenes, I'm 99% confident that it's just the living room shown from different angles/perspectives.

Remember those important living room details? If we look closely at the background throughout scene #1, we can see some of those same details. This suggests that we're seeing the farthest side of the original living room depiction. Here are those details captured in still shots:

At the end of scene #1, when Caleb walks across the room, we can see the following additional features of the room:

In scene #2 (if you pause and screenshot a billion times), we can see an almost 360 view of the area. In addition to the new details this scene reveals, it also shows common elements shown in scene #1 and the initial living room depiction. We start facing the windows from the farthest side of the living room depiction. Then, as we turn left, we see the diagonal wall, the TV table, and the windows on the other side.

As we continue turning left (images ordered 1-4 below), we can see a hallway, stairs, another fireplace, another room, and "two seat" side of the couch. The configuration of the cushions and the lap desk attachment directly match the living room depiction. We can even see the pile of packages.

(Images below have been brightened for maximum visibility)

So, after all of that detective work and taking the above analysis into account, here is my theorized floorplan for the living room.

Bonus Detail:

As a bonus detail, when Caleb says "I'm about to leave. It'd be nice if we had a meal together", he's pulling the protaganist towards that "other room". Based on that clue and other supporting evidence I'll cover in the next post, it seems to suggest the "other room" is actually the kitchen. Buuuuut we'll cover all that soon!

Caleb who tries to avoid blowjobs early in your relationship — not because he doesn’t like them but because he knows he’ll cum in less than a minute. One glimpse at your glassy, pleading eyes, lips stretched around him, drool shining at the corners of your mouth, and it’s already game over.

“L–love, please…slow down” He rasps, gently pulling you back by your hair, fingers trembling. You’re barely a minute in and his thighs are already quivering.

You pull off with a wet pop, his slick length brushing your cheek. “Why? Am I doing it wrong?” you ask, voice filled with innocence, thumb stroking the vein pulsing beneath his skin.

Caleb’s breath hitches. The sight alone of your lips swollen and his cock resting heavy against your flushed face could make him spill untouched. 

“N–no. It’s just…too much.” He stammers, completely flushed in both embarrassment and pleasure. 

"Is that a bad thing?" You smirked as you dragged your tongue in a slow, deliberate circle around his leaking tip, watching his hips jerk involuntarily.

His head snaps back, a broken groan tearing from his throat. The hand in your hair tightens, never actually pushing you or hurting you, just clinging, knuckles white. “Fuck– baby–”

“You are so sensitive” You whispered, lips brushing the slit as you speak. Another flick of your tongue and his curses turn into whimpers. You haven’t even taken half of him and he’s already gone. His eyes are squeezed shut, mouth slack, and his chest heaving like he’s drowning.

When you decided to take more of his length, your other hand helping where you couldn't reach, he sat up in surprise. “P–Pips” he whined, taking a look at your drooling mouth and beautiful eyes who looked back at him. His voice cracks as your throat flutters around him, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the stretch. You don’t stop, you can’t — not when he’s unraveling so beautifully.

You hollow your cheeks, bobbing faster as the lewd sounds of your mouth fill the room. His warnings turn frantic. “Baby– move, I’m gonna–”

But you only take him deeper, nails digging into his thigh as you feel him throb against your tongue. His whole body locks up, a choked sob escaping as he comes undone in your throat with hot, thick pulses filling you.  You swallow greedily, milking every rope until he’s left begging for you to stop at the overstimulation. 

The sound of the front door clicking open barely registers through the fog of cramps gnawing at your insides. You curl tighter into the couch cushions, soup bowl abandoned on the coffee table, half eaten and cold. Your eyes are shut so tightly it almost hurts, but the dull ache won’t let you rest.

“Pipsqueak…” CALEB’s voice fills the apartment—warm, familiar, and tired, but immediately lighter the second he spots you. He sighs, tugging off his colonel hat and tossing it onto the entryway table.

You don’t answer, just scrunch your nose deeper into the blanket. He walks over, the weight of his boots heavy against the floor, and drops onto the couch beside you. “Don’t tell me period cramps are kicking your ass again?” His grin is pure mischief, trying to tease you out of your misery.

Your eyes crack open just enough to glare. “Caleb, I love you, but you really need to shut your mouth sometimes.” He blinks at you, all mock-offended, then lets out a sheepish laugh as he scratches the back of his head. “Ouch. Brutal. Guess I deserved that.”

You grunt in agreement, already curling tighter. He studies you for a beat, his smile softening. “I bought pads and painkillers on the way home. You can take them if it’s too bad.” His hand hovers awkwardly before he blurts, “Want me to rub your tummy a bit?”

You shake your head quickly, voice drained. “The uniform…”

Caleb looks down at himself—the heavy jacket, the medals, the pressed fabric—and his eyes widen slightly. “Shit. I forgot you hate it when I wear this home.” He pats your leg before standing. “I’ll go change, yeah? Give me two minutes.”

But the second he moves, you groan and wrap your arms around his torso, clinging like a barnacle. You bury your face into his hip, voice muffled. “NoOoOoOoOoOoOoOo~”

Caleb chuckles, brushing a hand through your hair. “Pipsqueak, I can’t exactly peel this off in the living room.” You look up at him with watery eyes. “Just… change. And c’here. Please, Caleb. I need you.”

That’s all it takes. His grin fades into something gentler, his palm cupping the back of your head. “Yeah, pips. Five minutes. Promise.” He disappears down the hall, and you sulk until he comes back—not in stiff military formality, but in gray sweatpants slung low on his hips, hair damp from a quick rinse, chest bare and warm.

You don’t even wait. The second he sits down, you throw yourself against him, arms tight around his ribs. He pulls you with him until you’re sprawled on top of him on the couch, tucked firmly against his chest. “I’m here, pips,” he murmurs, voice vibrating against your cheek.

A hum escapes you as you nuzzle into his warmth, his skin soothing in a way medicine never could. His hand finds your stomach anyway, palm rubbing gentle circles against the ache. After a few minutes of silence, you whisper, “Caleb?”

“Hm?”

“You love me, right?”

He laughs softly, low and rough from the day. “Silly girl. Is that even a question?”

You pout, shifting on top of him like a restless shrimp. “No. Say it.”

He exhales, amused but already giving in. He tips your chin up just enough to press a kiss to your forehead. “Of course I love you, pipsqueak. More than you realize.”

You whine, burying yourself deeper against him. His hand keeps rubbing your tummy, steady and patient, while his other arm locks around your waist.

The cramps still ache, but wrapped in Caleb’s warmth, his heartbeat steady under your ear, it doesn’t feel quite so unbearable anymore. Eventually, your breaths even out, and he knows you’ve dozed off. Caleb presses his cheek to your hair, smiling despite himself.

“You’re a pain in my ass, pipsqueak,” he whispers, voice fond and quiet, “but you’re my pain in the ass. Always.”

And he stays right there, holding you, long after sleep takes you both.

A/N : I've love-hate relationship with the uniform. for someone who loves caleb since chapter 4, i find the colonel uniform stripping caleb off his dream, home, to mc. it's the greatest legacy he holds but also the heaviest burden he carries without a complain. the uniformed caleb is a version of caleb who's chained to a system he doesn't belong.

You wake up tangled in Caleb, face smushed against his bare chest, and you already know: there’s no way you’re letting go today. Not when his warmth feels this perfect. Not when your nerves settle just by hearing his heartbeat under your ear. The first thing out of his mouth when you shift closer is a groggy, “Pipsqueak… you’re gonna fuse into me if you keep this up.”

You don’t move. You just grunt and hook your leg tighter around his waist. Caleb chuckles, rubbing his palm down your back in slow strokes, clearly not in any rush to untangle himself either. “Alright, koala mode activated. Guess I’m stuck.”

And stuck he is—because when he tries to get out of bed an hour later to make coffee, you cling like a starfish. He shuffles around with you still attached, muttering, “You’re like one of those weighted blankets but alive and needy. Do you know how ridiculous I look making espresso with you glued to my ribs?”

You peek up at him with that soft little frown that makes his chest ache. Caleb caves instantly, kissing your forehead before grinning. “Fine, fine. I’ll be your personal pillow-slash-barista. Happy now, pipsqueak?”

The rest of the day follows the same pattern:

By evening, he’s got you wrapped in a blanket with him on the couch, your head tucked under his chin. His voice drops soft, steady against your hair. “Y’know, I call you pipsqueak, but you take up all this space in me. Can’t even picture a day without you clinging to me like this.”

You mumble something into his skin—half gratitude, half sleepy complaint that he’s too warm. Caleb only squeezes you tighter, smirking into your hair. “Too bad. You’re stuck with me. And I’m stuck with my little heat-seeking pipsqueak.”

When night falls and you refuse to roll to your side of the bed, he gives in without a fight, pulling you chest-to-chest, skin-to-skin, your legs tangled up like it’s the only way you can breathe. He kisses your temple, softer this time.

“Sleep, baby. I’ll still be here when you wake up. Always.”

And for once, your body believes him.

Headcanons: Introverted MC

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ PAIRING: Caleb x You

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ GENRE: yandere!caleb, captivity, obsession, caretaking

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ WORD COUNT: 651

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ AO3 ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Notes: I devided it into two parts, the first half is more lighthearted, while the other is Caleb being a possessive lil shit.

He’d double down on the idea that he should be the one to go out, shop, and handle errands. “Stay here, pipsqueak. I’ll bring back whatever you want.”

He learns your rhythms, when you like silence, when you’re okay with chatter, when you want company but don’t want to talk. He can sit in the same room for hours, tinkering with his plane models while you read.

When you do want to go out, he over-prepares, checking the route, scanning the crowd, keeping you within arm’s reach the entire time. To him, your introversion is another reason to shield you.

He won’t complain if you cancel social plans last-minute, but he’ll quietly block people who pressure you to come out.

He learns to cook “comfort foods” that keep you cozy… soups, baked goods, anything warm. He brags about being your “personal chef.”

Loves to nap with you on the couch. If you fall asleep on him, he won’t move for hours, just watches you breathe and strokes your hair with his left hand.

At first, he thinks your homebody nature is convenient. But eventually, he realises you need solitude to recharge, which challenges his urge to always be near you.

He respects it outwardly, though sometimes you catch him standing quietly at your door, debating whether to knock. If you call him in, he lights up.

If he worries you’re isolating too much, he’ll push gently: “Come on, let’s walk the balcony together. Just ten minutes. You’ll still have me the whole time.”

He takes pride in being the only one you want to let in when you’re drained. It feeds his ego... “See? You can shut everyone else out, but you still keep me.”

Brings you trinkets from outside, things he swears “looked like you’d like them,” even if it’s just a random stone he spotted or a stuffed animal.

Slightly Darker Version

Your preference for staying home feeds straight into his possessive side. He secretly loves it, he doesn't discourage your introversion, in fact, he encourages it. Offers to run every errand, picks up every package, handles every social obligation. Slowly, he makes sure there’s no reason you ever need to step outside without him.

At first, Caleb’s place feels cozy, a quiet haven shaped by his steady hands. Every shelf is stocked, every corner touched with small signs of care. Days slip by in the comfort he builds around you. It’s easy, dangerously easy, to wake up one morning and realize weeks have gone by, and you haven’t stepped outside once.

He installs quiet security measures, new locks, reinforced doors, even Fleet-grade sensors. He’ll phrase it as “just making sure you're safe.” But he knows it also keeps you in.

He keeps a meticulous eye on your habits... what you eat, when you sleep, how much water you drink. If he sees you slipping, he corrects it with strict patience: “You don’t get to ignore yourself, pipsqueak. If you won’t take care of you, I will.”

He’s the type to bring you two options… his choice and the right choice. Either way, it’s the same outcome: you bend to his control while he frames it as you having freedom.

He slowly begins rejecting invitations for you without asking, telling others you’re “resting” or “busy.” Eventually, people stop asking and you realize he’s built a buffer between you and everyone else.

He’s quietly smug that you’d rather stay home with him than spend time with anyone else.

He loves watching you curled up on the couch, small and tucked away — it reassures him that you’re safe, contained, his.

When you’re in your own world, absorbed in a book or game, he’ll just sit there and stare, thinking how easy it would be to keep you like this forever.

He’ll whisper when you’re half-asleep: “If you ever tried to leave, I’d bring you back here. Because you belong here. With me.”

Notes: The only thing stopping Caleb from completely shutting you off from the rest of the world is probably your mental health, he doesn’t want to jeopardize it. Otherwise, he’d definitely lock the doors and throw away the key, lol.

Content: Sub! Caleb to Dom! Caleb + Somnophilia (lowkey) + Dubcon + Heat +Thigh fucking + Cunnilingus + Overstimulation + Sex toy + Dacryphilia + Dumbification

Note: back with (probably) the favourite of those who like, may have read my other parts related to this AU. Think of this as some kind of break? Cause I kind of miss writing, lowkey. I decided to finish some of the many drafts I have so I can clean my profile a bit...

Can’t Take It Anymore! Overstim!Caleb

Warning: Overstim, baby trap, crying, crybaby Caleb, mating press.

Caleb is so pathetic. He begged and PLEADED to be let in to your sopping push raw.

But the big strong Colonel is barely two inches in with his girthy cock and he’s sobbing.

The sound catches you off guard at first. He’s holding himself up with shaky arms and his head is tilted down so you can’t see the tears forming in the corners of big purple eyes.

You just giggle at how utterly wrecked he is. You cup his cheek and bring his gaze back up to you. “Tell me how it feels Caleb…”

His cheeks flush darker. His watery eyes meet yours, and the words come out half gasp.

"Shit—god, pipsqueak. You feel...you feel better than I ever imagined."

A ragged breath leaves him as he leans his head against yours, and this time you can hear the plea in his voice.

"Can I move?"

You hum, pretending to think. You tighten your walls around the tip of his shaft just to be mean to poor Caleb.

The sound that leaves him is downright broken, his entire body jolting forward as if the simple motion is almost too much for him to bear.

"Ngh—! Don't… " he growls, his hands clenching into tight fists. "Don't do that." His breathing is ragged still, his eyes squeezed shut as he presses his face against your throat. His voice is a low snarl when he speaks again, "Please. I'm begging you."

Your eyebrow quirks. Begging hm? You tighten your sopping walls again and he actually sobs, big thick tears spilling out.

Caleb is completely unraveled above you, broken by your words and the feel of you around him, so damn tight and just for him.

He lifts his head to look at you, and the expression on his face is almost desperate, almost like he's pleading for you to take mercy on him.

He looks like he's going to cry when another broken plea leaves him. "Please…you've got to let me move." His voice is wrecked. "Please! Anything. Please—just...just one chance to show you…"

Another thick tear slides along his flushed cheeks. "Just…please. Just let me show you." He's lost all sense of pride now, all of his usual cocky arrogance gone and replaced by a trembling, tearful wreck. It's a side of him you've never seen before, this desperate, needy side that only you get to see. "I…I need-“He chokes, as if the words are being wrenched out of him. "Please. Just…let me show you, pipsqueak. Let me show you how it could be. Please."

You coo up at the over sensitive, pleading mess of a man. “You are such a big baby.”

A small, watery gasp escapes him at your words, his dark eyes fluttering shut as he shakes his head almost frantically. The plea that leaves him seems to tear something loose inside him, some sort of desperate need to prove himself.

"Not-not a baby. Please. I…I can be good. So good. I've just never—I don't want to mess it up. I just… I just want to…." He bites off the whine building in his throat before it can escape.

But then, he can’t hold back. Your knees are pressed into your chest and he’s battering the rest of his raw cock into you.

But he’s sobbing the whole time. Pleading with you to forgive him for how split on his cock you are.

The room is filled with the sound of skin slapping skin, his sobs mixing with your choked whimpers as he buries himself to the hilt inside you—over n’ over—as if he can't stop now that he's finally where he belongs.

His hands grip your hips bruisingly tight, tears dripping off his chin onto your sweat-slicked stomach as his voice cracks between thrusts.

"I'm s-sorry! I—nh!—I couldn’t wait!"

His rhythm is erratic, desperate in a way that betrays how utterly ruined he is by the feeling of you.

Every snap of his hips forces another broken sound from him. Half sob, half groan. As if each drag against those slick walls leaves him more wrecked than before.

His usual control?

Gone.

You are faring no better. Each harsh thrust is right up against your cervix, making your tummy ache. Your fingers claw uselessly into his forearms. “N-MHNH! C-Caleb! Hurts!”

He doesn’t stop—can’t stop, not when your walls are clenching around him like a vice, dragging him deeper with every desperate snap of his hips.

"I k-know!" he chokes out between sobs, his own tears dripping onto your flushed chest as he leans over you. His voice is a wrecked whisper now. "But I need it—ah!—I need you to take it… p-please!"

His rhythm stutters when you whine again, but instead of slowing down? He just shifts, tilting your hips up to sink even deeper with each thrust until the stretch borders on unbearable for both of you.

One particularly sharp snap of his hips punches a broken cry from your lips and Caleb whimpers, forehead dropping against the crook of your neck as if he's the one overwhelmed by how much it hurts.

You cry and hiccup with each thrust. Your cunt is stretched to take him while even when he’s acting like nothing but a filthy mutt. His feet are planted in the bed now and he’s using his Evol to drill into you harder, faster.

He’s drooling now, saliva dripping onto your cheeks. His powerful legs and hips give you no reprieve. You try to push away but he hunches over you and just thrust faster. Like a dirty dog caught humping a pillow but they can’t stop. “Can’t Caleb! Haaaa i-it burns!”

Caleb whimpers at the sound of your pain, but it doesn’t stop him.

Nothing could stop him now, not when he’s this far gone, not when every desperate thrust punches another broken cry from your throat.

His movements are frantic, hips pistoning with no rhythm or control. Just pure need.

He slobbers kisses across your tear-stained cheeks between ragged breaths, his voice barely coherent as he mumbles against your skin.

"S-sorry… sorry…!" His cock twitches inside you as if to punctuate his apology. "Pipsqueak feels t-too good… C-can’t hold back anymore!"

His hands scrabble at the sheets beside your head, knuckles white with the effort of restraining himself from pinning you down completely, but even then, his hips don't stop their brutal pace for a single second.

He's lost in it now. In the wet heat of you, in how perfectly you take him despite how much it hurts, in the way your cunt flutters around him like it was made just for him.

And through it all? He sobs. Like some lovesick mutt who can't help but ruin what he loves most.

His balls are throbbing and you start to feel the stutter in his thrust. “N-no Caleb! Outside! N-not inside!”

His entire body lurches, his hips stuttering against yours in a desperate, uneven rhythm as he tries to obey through the sheer overwhelming need to bust in your guts.

"I—f-fuckkkk—I can't!" he sobs, his voice breaking around the words as if it physically hurts him to deny you this one thing.

His fingers tighten in your hair almost reflexively, pulling just enough to make you whimper as his cock twitches violently inside you.

"F-fuck… pipsqueak… I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!" His breath comes out in ragged pants, tears dripping down onto your chest as he finally loses control entirely.

And then with one last broken cry of your name, he buries himself balls-deep, spilling into you with a shuddering groan that sounds like agony.

You sob at the feeling of thick cum filling up every crevice of your pussy. You cry pitifully, hands curled into fist as they beat weakly on his chest. His hips are still stuttering. Trying to pump every spurt inside.

Caleb whimpers at your sobs, his own tears mixing with yours as his body refuses to stop milking himself inside you. His hands tremble where they brace against the mattress, his entire frame shaking with the force of his release as he helplessly grinds deeper, chasing every last drop of pleasure at your expense.

"I—fuck!—I didn't mean to," he gasps between shuddering aftershocks, voice wrecked beyond recognition. His hips twitch weakly once more before he finally collapses over you, pressing feverish kisses along your tear-streaked cheeks in a messy attempt at comfort.

But when you shift beneath him? A thick drip of cum escapes your swollen entrance and Caleb groans, half-guilty and half-aroused all over again.

"S-sorry…" He mumbles against your skin like a broken record, "...so fucking sorry..."

But he’s moving in a blur again despite his half-assed apologies. “C-Calebbbb! M’ gonna-gonna get pregnant!”

"I—I could take care of you. I could take care of you both." He whispers against your skin, so soft it's almost like he's comforting himself. Like he's trying to picture it, trying to convince himself it would work.

His hands, those big, strong hands you've always known so well, are trembling as they cradle your stomach, almost like he's trying to already picture what you'd look like with his child growing in your womb.

"You'd be s’pretty…" He whispers, "My pretty little pipsqueak all fat and full!”

God, he wanted a little girl.