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NOTICE: As more and more fanfic writers are using generative AI for their works (you uncreative dweebs), I hereby swear on everything I hold dear that I have not and will NEVER use generative AI in ANY of my written work. Everything I post will be organically and creatively my own.
We human beings have discovered patterns of light and/or sound that kill some people and we should probably not have hissy fits about your right to fire a weapon at my mom. Like if you could put some text onscreen explaining the upcoming seizure-inducing patterns so that people can scroll away. That’s super fucking easy. i AM sorry that something as mindless as a tiktok edit could kill someone but hey, so could driving to work every morning, we all treat THAT accordingly (long, pointed stare. because yes we had better be treating that accordingly too)
The casual abundance of Thing That Kills People doesn’t mean you shouldn’t avoid killing people
you spot him before he spots you. it’s move-in day, early september, campus buzzing with freshmen dragging suitcases across cracked pavement. you’re half-distracted, texting your roommate, when you turn a corner—and there he is. dick grayson.
your old friend. your “kinda cute in a boy-next-door way” classmate. the guy who used to wear dumb graphic tees and push his hair out of his face a hundred times a minute.
except… that’s not who’s standing there. no. the guy standing there is… bigger. broader. taller. tanner. jaw sharper, shoulders wider, hair shorter and actually styled. wearing a fitted black henley that hugs him in ways that should be illegal.
you stop walking so abruptly someone behind you almost runs into you. what the hell. he looks up at the same moment, like he felt your eyes on him, and when he recognizes you his whole face lights up in that classic dick grayson smile—only now it’s paired with a deep voice that sends heat straight to your spine.
“hey,” he calls, slinging a duffel bag over one arm like it weighs nothing. “long time no see!”
you open your mouth. nothing comes out. because what are you supposed to say? hi dick sorry i’m staring it’s just that you got hot?? like aggressively hot?? like did puberty hit you again??
he walks over, and up close he’s even worse. forearms veiny, eyes bluer than you remember, posture confident in a way that’s entirely new.
“you okay?” he laughs softly. “you’re looking at me like i grew a second head.”
“no,” you say, voice embarrassingly thin. “just… surprised.”
“surprised?” he grins. “by what?”
you drag your eyes up from his chest to his face, praying he can’t hear how hard your heart is pounding.
“you, i guess,” you mumble. “you look… different.”
“different good or different bad?”
you look at him. really look. the little tilt of his smile. the sun catching in his hair. how he smells like clean soap and summer air. how his shirt fits like it was sewn onto him.
“different… very good,” you admit before you can stop yourself.
his cheeks flush pink—pink—and he tries to play it off by scratching the back of his neck, but he can’t hide the tiny grin tugging at his lips.
“yeah?” he murmurs. “well. guess the gym membership paid off.”
you swallow, trying not to stare at the outline of his bicep flexing.
“paid off is an understatement.”
his eyes flick down to your mouth then back up, quick but unmistakable.
“we should… catch up sometime,” he says, voice suddenly lower. “coffee? dinner? something?”
your breath stutters. you nod. “yeah. i’d like that.”
he smiles. “cool. then it’s a date.”
and you swear the sidewalk tilts under your feet.
…no one told you how good dick got with his mouth.
it was supposed to be innocent. coffee, catching up, a little nostalgia. but the second he shows up at your dorm room—black hoodie, silver chain, backwards cap, holding your drink order already memorized—your stomach flips.
“figured we’d hang out here,” he says, eyes scanning the walls. “more chill than the dining hall.”
you nod, biting your lip. “yeah. definitely more… private.”
you try to focus. really, you do. but he lounges across your twin XL like he owns the place, legs spread, hoodie riding up slightly to show a flash of toned stomach. he sips his iced coffee, laughs at something you say, and tilts his head like he knows exactly what he’s doing.
and you? you are struggling. his voice is deeper. his arms are thicker. his smirk is sharper. and when he leans over to grab your phone, your eyes drop—and you realize.
he has the most fuckable lips you’ve ever seen in your life. soft. plush.
so when he raises a brow and murmurs, “you’ve been looking at me weird all night…”
you don’t even pretend to play dumb.
“dick,” you say, steady but breathless, “lie down.”
his eyes widen, but he obeys.
“wait—wait,” he laughs, even as you straddle his chest. “what are you—?”
“you,” you say, fingers carding into his hair, “are going to let me ride your pretty face.”
his pupils blow wide. “jesus christ.”
“too much?”
“no,” he says, hands already gripping your thighs. “not enough.”
you don’t even bother taking your shorts off slow—just pull them aside, and he groans, deep and hungry, like the sight of you alone is enough to make him lose his mind.
“god, baby,” he breathes, voice rough. “you’re soaked.”
you hover above him, trembling with anticipation, and he murmurs, “sit.”
you do. and the first sweep of his tongue makes you whimper. he moans into you like he missed it—like this is a craving he didn’t know he had. his hands are firm on your thighs, pulling you down, grinding you into his mouth with such need it makes you shake.
“dick—” you gasp, fingers clutching the headboard. “fuck—”
he groans, tongue flattening against your clit, nose nudging exactly where you need it.
“you taste so good,” he mumbles, messy and breathless, “you’ve been sitting across from me looking like a wet dream all night— you think i wasn’t gonna do something about it?”
you grind down harder. he takes it. eats you like it’s his first meal after a drought. like he’s grateful for it. like the only thing he’s ever wanted in life is to make you cum on his tongue over and over again.
when your thighs start shaking, he just hums deep, greedy—and doesn’t let up. you cum on his face with a broken sob, hips twitching, thighs clenched around his ears, and he doesn’t stop until you physically have to lift yourself off him.
he’s grinning when you finally do—soaked, flushed, proud.
“so,” he pants, lips slick, voice wrecked. “catch up again next week?”
you laugh breathlessly, still shaking. “if you ever stop eating me like that,” you warn, “we’re gonna have a problem.”
he grins wider. “guess i better keep practicing then.”
Need help with household chores? Want a friend to come home to and talk about your day with? Need to let off some steam with a good fuck? Our android companion is perfect for you! Only for the low, low sale price of $4,999.99!
⋆.˚ CW — 18+ MDNI, smut, android!Caleb, shy!reader, alcohol, a non-consensual kiss at the beginning but the smut is 100% consensual, yearning, a bit of angst, masturbation, Caleb's arm as a vibrator, fingering, multiple orgasms, crying (but sexy), overstim
⋆.˚ NOTES — welcome to the 2nd week of kinktober! I had lots of fun writing this one so I hope you enjoy it as much as I did :3
“Ugh, fuck this,” you groan, tossing your tiny, pink vibrator to the side, not caring when it goes too far and flies off your bed. You're way too inebriated and sexually frustrated to give a damn.
Your arm aches and as the pulse slowly fades between your legs, you come to the conclusion that you can't come tonight. Fingers, vibrator, dildos, none of them seem to work on you. It's been like this for weeks. You don't know if it's stress or if there's just something wrong with you.
Your nightly routine tonight consisted of kicking off your heels and settling down with a bottle of wine before bed. You were hoping the wine would help you relax and then you'd be able to come. But, that plan has proved to be a bust.
You pull your panties back up and grab your phone off the nightstand. There are a few notifications from social media, a friend asking if you wanted brunch tomorrow, and what looks like a spam email.
FROM: EVER. CO
SALE SALE SALE: EVER CO. COMPANION BOT, CALEB!
You squint at your phone screen. A mix of alcohol and the late hour convinces your curiosity into clicking the email.
You vaguely remember browsing EVER’s website a few weeks ago out of curiosity. Their companion bots are supposed to be the very best, cutting edge tech, designed to be anything you want—a friend, family, lover, anything at all.
At first, you thought the idea of buying an android was a complete waste of money. You've seen them around the city, either doing errands on their own or walking hand-in-hand with their human partners. When they smile politely at you with their lightless eyes, it sends nothing but chills down your spine.
While checking out their website, you scrolled through the ‘build-a-bot’ section to ridicule the stupid features people pay extra to install.
Seriously, who pays a hundred extra dollars for a bigger dick installation and extra stamina?
It was an amusing browse that lasted for an hour, and you thought that's all it would be—an hour of entertainment you wouldn't think about ever again.
But now you're staring into the violet eyes of the most handsome man android you've ever seen, with eyes somehow reflecting so much life and charm, drawing you in the longer you gaze. He looks less like the typical androids you normally see and that has you intrigued.
Meet Caleb (model no. X-02), EVER’s latest android companion, tailor made to be your perfect partner! He's the boy next door, an attentive lover, the adrenaline junkie that will take you on the ride of your life.
You scan through his bio that lists characteristics, even habits that seem to bring him to life. He loves building model airplanes, hates cilantro, dreams of becoming a pilot, etc.
It reads less like a sales pitch and more like a dating profile. And somehow, he's checking off all your boxes. He really does seem tailor made for you. It's almost creepy.
This Caleb companion is not fit for additional installations or modifications.
So, you can't pay for extra stamina and a twelve inch dick? What a shame. You could really use that right now.
It doesn't help that there’s a shirtless photo of Caleb in bed with his thumb hooking around the band of his sweat pants, gazing up at the camera with a seductive smirk.
The ache between your legs returns annoyingly and you groan, scrolling away before you find your hands down your pants for another useless session.
Price mark down! 80% off! Get him today for the low, low price of $4,999.99!
You whistle, “that's pretty cheap.”
Considering the average, high quality android these days costs $30k and up, you're looking at a bargain—or at least, that's what your tipsy and horny addled mind tells you. But there's no way an android from EVER, a top selling android competitor, is selling a new model this low. There has to be a catch.
You try reading the finer details, but the tiny words just blend together. Somehow the only details you manage to catch are ‘passionate lover', ‘extra stamina pack included’, and ‘six vibrating arm modes’. You're extra intrigued by that last detail.
The add to cart button is clicked without a second thought. Purchasing is a simple, familiar process. Inputting your name, card information, address is muscle memory at this point.
You only realize what you just did when the EVER logo pops up on your screen with a purchase confirmation number.
Buyers remorse kicks in as you stare at the screen. This is probably one of the most embarrassing purchases you've ever made, solely driven by the fact that you're unbearably sexually frustrated and horny for some super hot, discount android.
Before you can figure out how to cancel your order, you notice an audio message attached to the thank you message.
“Thanks for choosin’ me. I can't wait to meet you.” A voice, presumably Caleb’s, says. Even his voice is hot. There's a sweet charm to it, playful and alluring all at once. “Fill out the questionnaire below to help me learn how I can please you.”
The questions range from basic tasks you'd like help with to how frequent you want him to initiate sex. You answer with complete honesty, thanks to the wine.
By the time you finish the seemingly endless and thorough questionnaire, your eyes are drooping until you eventually nod off, dreaming of violet eyes and that low voice whispering filthy things in your ears.
—
It takes Caleb two weeks to arrive at your door.
The delivery man asks for your signature, carts a six foot crate into your living room, and leaves without much fanfare. Though, you suppose these days, delivering androids isn't an uncommon occurrence.
You stare at the intimidating crate. It still hasn't registered that there's an android in your living room. In the two weeks leading up to this moment, you tried pushing it to the back of your mind. It is already embarrassing enough to admit that you bought one out of desperation, but to have it be a reality… you don't know what to expect once you crack open the box.
It takes thirty minutes for you to breathe through your anxieties and start cutting open all the zip ties and tape wrapped around the box. You're greeted by a thick user manual and wall of styrofoam casing when you peel open the top.
You take the manual, a full body scan of Caleb is on it, and flip it open.
EVER Co. thanks you for your purchase! We hope you enjoy your new Caleb companion. Please refer to this user guide to help you get started.
You skim through the instructions, tapping your fingers against the pages as you worry your lower lip between your teeth.
To switch on your companion, hold down the POWER button located on your companion’s sternum for 3 seconds. Your companion will lead you through the next steps after powered on.
There's a diagram next to the text, illustrating where Caleb’s power button is. You pull off the styrofoam mold, tossing it to the corner of your living room, and beneath is Caleb’s sleeping—tecnically powered off—form.
It hits you all at once that he's real and… so human-like.
Your fingers graze over his cheek. He's neither cold nor warm to the touch, but he's not pallid. There's a glow to his skin, kissed by sun. When you press a finger into his cheek, the flesh gives way like any would. You half expected him to be solid, cold metal beneath your hands.
He’s bundled up in a jacket with blue and orange accents and black sweater beneath. You tug down his collar, spying a silver chain around his neck that leads down to some dog tags with his name and model number engraved on it. You feel against his solid chest for the button. It's a small indent in the middle of his sternum, nearly indiscernible to the eye, but you feel it beneath your finger and push down.
The seconds pass and you hear a low hum like fans buzzing to life beneath his skin. When you lift off the button it takes only a second for his eyes to snap open, staring blankly at the ceiling.
You dare yourself to inch closer, searching for signs of cognition. He doesn't stir. You're almost afraid you've already broken him somehow. You wave your hand over his face, wondering if you have to give him something to focus on.
Once, twice—you move your hand, and after the third pass his eyes are suddenly on yours. You squeal, falling back on your behind before scrambling off the floor, straightening out your clothes.
What a great first impression…
He keeps his eyes on you as if he's assessing you, picking you apart piece by piece to figure out what makes you tick, before blinking and wiping it all away with a dazzling smile.
“This is insane,” you mutter to yourself.
His smile is just like the pictures, but somehow in person it makes him ten times more attractive. “Nice to meet ya, pipsqueak.”
You wrinkle your nose. Pipsqueak? You're not sure that was one of the nicknames you chose on the questionnaire. “Um, hello?”
He lifts himself out of the box with quick and fluid movements, glancing around his new home with a discerning eye. There's a satisfied hum before he turns to you, dragging his eyes up and down your form.
“Come ‘ere.”
You hardly register what he means before he crowds you, cradling your jaw, and kisses you. His lips are rough against yours, moving languidly with his tongue parting your lips. Without much thought you melt into him.
It's been so long since you've had this sort of physical connection. Not since your ex and that was nearly a year ago at this point. It’s comforting to fall into someone else's arms, safe and warm.
Heat pools in your core as his hands smooth over your waist, but your mind drifts. It's all so sudden and so much.
“Wait!” You push against his chest and stumble back into the wall. But instead of meeting the solid wall, his steady hands cradle you before impact. He's almost chest to chest with you again, staring down at you with concern.
“Hey, be careful. You alright?”
“Yeah, I'm fine.” As you peel yourself from his arms, his hands tighten around your waist before relaxing and letting you free. You lean against the wall to catch your breath. “What the hell was that?”
His brows furrow. “You marked ‘initiate sex every day, twice a day’ on your questionnaire,” he states as if reciting it. “Is now not a good time?”
Damn you for doing that questionnaire while horny.
“Not really—I mean, we just met. Maybe…” You trail off. You're still unsure about all of this, whether or not you actually want to commit to having sex with him. He just feels so alive, real, and yet willing to do anything for you without a second thought. Does he feel strange about this whole situation like you? Does he even feel at all? You really don't have the mental capacity right now to debate the ethics of having sex with androids. Not when one is right in front of you and throwing himself at you. “We start slow, um, like holding hands and stuff.”
“Holding hands,” he repeats slowly, raising a brow. If you didn't know any better you'd say he’s mocking you. “Are we five?”
You cross your arms, using it as a protective shield against the goosebumps rising on your arms. There's a growing smirk on his lips as he stares at your pout. “Hey! I'm sorry if you expected me to just jump your bones the minute you woke up, but this is really weird for me, alright?”
You barely know him! Sure, you read the basics of his bio, but that doesn't make you comfortable with fucking him immediately even if he was designed to be.
He sighs, “I'm sorry. I don't mean to make you uncomfortable.”
“We can work our way up to that,” you say, adding on a ‘but’ when you see his smirk returning, “but for now let’s just pretend we’re roommates-er, friends.”
“Friends, for now. I can do that.”
Living with an android is somewhat normal. He cooks you meals, makes sure you have all three meals, helps you do laundry, and is there when you come home from work to talk to. He's funny, teasing you occasionally. Indulges you whenever you get pouty. Not to mention incredibly touchy.
His hands are somehow always on or near you. If you're reaching for a plate, he's right behind you, grabbing it before you can get up on your tip-toes. You swear he purposefully moved them higher on the shelf so he could do that. When the two of you are on the couch while you're ranting about a particularly annoying work meeting, his arm is slung around yours, rubbing your shoulder soothingly.
It doesn't help that you still haven't been able to come. You're still in bed every night with a hand down your pants and the other over your mouth to silence your whimpers. The solution is simple—ask Caleb to help, but you're nervous and hesitant. If you even think about tiptoeing out of your room to find him at his charging station in the living room, you tense up and pull the covers over your head.
As much as you hate to admit, he's not just the android you bought while drunk and horny in the middle of the night anymore. He's Caleb. The one who creates a gnawing ache in your chest whenever you see him, whenever he comes near you, whenever he wishes you a good day. All the symptoms of a greater feeling.
You know that he’s an android, advertised as being designed to obey your every command, but it feels like a violation of his autonomy to ask when you know he can't say no. So, you settle for being friendly roommates with Caleb, and leave yourself with your hands and a few toys to (not) do the job, and silent feelings you can't voice.
It's been fine so far, but you wonder every night when the tipping point will finally come.
“I’m back! Work was a bitch, but I picked up some snacks for movie night!” You call out when you step through the door, holding up your stuffed bag. You toe off your shoes at the door and place them on the shoe rack. “Did you choose a- oh!”
Caleb is sitting on the couch, fiddling with his arm. Instead of skin, it is the mechanical, dark chrome endoskeleton layer exposed from his shoulder and down. He has an array of tools spread on the coffee table. You recognize them from the maintenance kit that came in his box. A panel on his forearm is open with colorful wires running through like veins.
You turn your head away, ignoring how the exposed metal highlights the curve of his thick biceps and the way your body responds with a rush of heat pooling in your core. You clear your throat and try not to obviously squeeze your thighs together. “Sorry, am I interrupting something?”
“Nope, I was just finishin’ up.” You hear the click of his panel shutting and the shuffling of tools. “Why’re you lookin’ away?”
“I don't know. It seems impolite to stare while you're…uncovered?” It's a pathetic excuse when the truth is you're just hot and bothered.
He chuckles, “It’s not like I’m naked. And even if I were, you can stare all you want. I don't mind.”
You fling the bag of snacks at him, which he catches by the handles easily, and cover your face. Images of him shirtless in his sweatpants, the obvious bulge pressing against the fabric, flash in your mind. He's walked around the house in that outfit before, sending you little glances and smirks. It fuels your imagination at night while you attempt to get off.
“You're the worst,” you groan, stomping to fling yourself onto the couch.
“But, you keep me around,” he retorts teasingly.
“Only because you cook me dinner and do my laundry,” you grumble, snatching the bag of snacks from him and riffling through its contents to distract yourself from thoughts of him naked.
“Is that all I'm good for?”
You laugh softly, “no, of course not. I like you very much, Caleb.”
You settle for a bag of sour gummy worms and pull them from the bag. As you tear it open, you feel his stare on you again.
You squirm under his penetrating gaze, glancing at him. “What?”
“Nothin’. Just thinkin’,” he hums, reclining back into the cushions. You get a sense he's lying. “You've already seen me naked.”
You sputter, nearly jumping off the couch. “W-What! No!”
“Didn't you look at my profile on the website?”
“I did, but I didn't see that!” You gesture wildly to his lower half.
“Oh, you wanted me so bad, you didn't even look thoroughly.”
“I was tipsy and-” You shut yourself up before you can expose too much and huff, “ugh, you were way cuter on my screen when you couldn't talk.”
He ignores your statement, leaning closer to you. “Tipsy and what?”
Your face grows warmer when traces of a smirk appear on his face. “Tipsy and nothing. F-Forget it!”
You attempt to push him away, but he catches your arm. His thumb smoothes over the pulse point on your wrist in slow strokes. No doubt sensing the way your heart is racing beneath with his heart monitoring function. Any irritation you had falls away as he edges closer.
Cold metal meets your skin when Caleb’s hand reaches up to cup your cheek, making you flinch. Your eyes trace up his forearm and bicep. It's odd to see the mechanical parts of him when the face in front of you is so alive.
Caleb seems to take your quiet as rejection. “Are you scared of me like this?”
“No,” you answer immediately. “Should I be?”
“You don't know me,” he says, sharp and accusatory. “My code’s been rewritten so many times. Sometimes even I don't know who I’m supposed to be anymore.”
“Caleb…” Your mouth is dry, but your heart aches to comfort him.
“And sometimes I think I really like you,” he admits. “But is it me or is it just programming?”
Your heart seizes up at the sudden confession, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. To think… could he actually have feelings for you too?
He guides you closer, never taking his eyes off your lips. A drawn expression on his face. “And sometimes I think I want to kiss you—I really do.”
“Why don't you?” you whisper.
“You haven't asked me to yet.”
“And I won't.” You rest a hand over the one on your cheek, feeling the ridges and grooves around the plates of his fingers. “Take what you want, Caleb.”
You wonder if he can feel your hand against his. If there's some type of sensor, feeding back the warm touch of your palm over his, or if it's nothing at all.
“Take what I want…” he repeats in a whisper.
You think if he were human, his breathing would be uneven, stuck in his chest. His hand slides down to cup your neck, tugging you forward until your lips collide in a desperate, needy kiss.
He's warm on your lips. It's different from the first time he kissed you. Before, he was confident, and knew exactly how to get your knees weak. Now, he's moving, unsure of himself, unsure of whether or not it’s okay.
You reinforce him by parting your lips, letting your tongues dance around each other. He leans forward, clutching you in his arms to lay you against the couch, but jerks back violently, dropping you instead.
He grabs his head, groaning, eyes screwed shut with his face contorted.
“What's wrong?”
“Preventative measures EVER installed in all their androids,” he grounds out. “It usually stops us from doing anything dangerous or disobeying orders.”
It's your turn to cup his cheeks, raising his face to look at you. You never thought this would happen, but you're so glad it did.
“If this is what you want, I want it too. I want you to kiss me, and… I-I want more than that.”
A half grin forms from his grimace as he chuckles. He sweeps you into another kiss, whispering thank yous between each breath.
Your heart swells, knowing that he feels something for you. He may not be able to decipher it fully, but you'll take this, whatever he wants to give.
He holds you in his arms. Your lips fall into a slow rhythm together, neither one of you willing to separate from the other first.
“I found those toys under your bed while I was cleaning and tossed them out,” he admits between kisses.
Your head snaps back as you push on his shoulders. “What? Why!”
Those were expensive!
“I was…” he thinks for a moment before the word comes out hesitantly, like he doesn't know if it's true, “jealous.”
“But you didn't need to throw them away,” you pout. As you attempt to pull away, thinking you could dig them out of the trash if they’re still there, he grips your waist.
“I want to show you why you don't need them anymore. You only need me,” he growls, grabbing your thighs to wrap around his waist and hoisting you up effortlessly. Your arms wrap around his neck as he carries you to your bedroom and lays you against the pillows. “Let me prove it.”
Though his eyes don't leave yours, burning with a raw hunger, you're still nervous. You don't think anyone has ever looked at you this way before and it makes you squirm.
“Are you really sure?”
“I am.” He climbs on top, caging you between his arms. His dog tags dangle between you. “Are you?”
You nod, toying with his necklace. “Think I've been ready for this since you woke up in my living room.”
“Then let me make up for lost time.” he starts at your neck, sucking at your pulse point until he leaves his mark before moving down to your collar.
He's probably programmed with thousands of different techniques and ways to pleasure someone, you think. Plus, you recall inputting all of your favorite kinks and positions in the questionnaire. He already knows every intimate detail about you. Now he just has to learn every inch of your body.
Caleb unbuttons your top, revealing your chest inch by inch and helping it off your shoulders, until your bra is in full view.
You’re a bit embarrassed that they're not more lacy or risque, but he doesn't seem to mind as his metal arm traces down the seam into the valley of your breasts. You shiver at his cool touch, arching into his hand.
“Am I too cold?” He hooks a finger down the middle of your bra, easing it lower to reveal your perfect mounds.
Your breath hitches when he runs his thumb over your nipple. The cold brings it to a quick peak. “N-No, I like it.”
He tweaks your nipples with both hands, one warm and the other cold. You hum beneath him, sinking into the mattress. He slips behind you to unhook your bra and throws it somewhere in your room.
You hear a sharp click! and you yelp when his now vibrating hand returns to toy with your nipple. “Wh-What…”
“Wow,” he chuckles. “You really didn't read anything on my profile. Was I that handsome?”
“Ah, shut up,” you whine when he pinches your nipples between his vibrating fingers.
Six vibrating arm modes. Oh. So this is what it means. Your pussy clenches at the thought of him slipping his fingers into you like that.
“How ‘bout a demonstration?” He turns off the vibrating and slowly begins to ease off your work pants, taking your panties with it, leaving you bare before him.
You're stuck beneath his unwavering gaze, vulnerable to his desire. You try closing your legs but he's kneeling between them.
“Pretty,” he mumbles, tracing a path down your stomach to your slit. He parts your folds, swiping against your slick pussy, gathering it on his metallic fingers.
You bite your lip, trying to hold back the whine threatening to escape, as his middle finger eases its way into your tight entrance. A soft ‘ah’ slips past you when he makes slow curling gestures against your gummy walls.
“I want to hear how good I make you feel. Don't hold back.”
The low, consistent vibrations start up again inside you. It's deep and penetrating, coursing through every fiber of your being, unlike anything you could have done yourself.
“Oh,” you sigh, eyes fluttering shut. Your body sinks into the mattress.
“That's it,” he groans, working your pussy open, sliding in a second finger when you're wet enough. “Just relax. I'll help you through it.”
The stretch has you arching off the bed, grinding your hips down on him. Already, you're feeling that familiar peak approaching, but you're still afraid that even now you won't be able to reach it.
When his vibrating thumb settles on your little aching bud, sending sparks running up your spine, you moan, grasping at the sheets.
He speeds up his pace, eventually switching his mechanical hand with his other hand so he can keep using it on your clit without moving it. The slick sounds of his fingers echo through your room—shlick!, shlick!, shlick!—along with the low humming of his fingers.
“Mph, I-I think I'm gonna come!”
“Yeah?” Caleb curls his finger against a spot that has you crying his name. He hits it over and over, letting your writhe against the sheets.
And you finally, finally, get to come. It shatters you, breaking you apart into pieces until you're weightless and limp as your pussy drools on the sheets.
“I've got you,” he soothes, petting your jaw with his thumb. It's his other hand, softer and warm. You lean into it, catching your breath.
You hear a click! again and the vibrations against your clit intensify with faster and stronger buzzes. It tears you out of that momentary calm and sends you hurling towards another orgasm.
“Ahh, C-Caleb!” You cry, clinging onto his arm. Your body tenses, curling in on itself as intense waves of pleasure pour through you. Coherent words die on your lips. It's nothing but babbling sobs as tears leak from your eyes. “Hahh—ngh—I-I don't think I can-”
“You can. I want to see you come again,” he pants, spreading your legs again when they try to close. “One more for me.”
It's hard to stop your whimpering to form a complete response, so you nod, eyes rolling back when his thumb returns to your aching, swollen clit. The speed this time is much more intense, already your body is tensing against his fingers.
Your hands scramble for something to cling onto. You catch his necklace, dragging him down to meet your lips as your second orgasm crashes through you.
He doesn't move his hand, keeping the torturous vibrations against your clit even when you try to squirm away and cry his name against his lips.
“You said one—ahh!—one more!” You sob, arching off the sheets and gasping for breath.
“‘S not enough. I need more.” He looks down at your tear filled eyes. “Please?”
Safe to say, it's not just one more he wants. He takes and takes until you're a complete mess by the end of it. You're not sure how your eyes are still open, but Caleb is still eager and ready to go.
“Ready to see the other features I have?”
⋆.˚ NOTES — I won't lie sometimes I forget that he has a mech arm since it's not visible (*﹏*;) also, special shout out to Calebs lvl 85 secret times for getting me through this one hehe reblogs, comments, and asks always appreciated! thanks for reading! <3
. . . 💬 when leona finally got some time to spend with his little herbivore, he couldn't miss the opportunity to pounce.
— pairing: leona kingscholar x you
— warnings: breeding king, reader has a pussy, dirty talk, beastman cock, sex, exhibitionism, mentions of pregnancy (nothing major), leona being a meanie, dumbification? kinda, overstim, denied orgasm
A/N: wrote that one with my pussy ngl
For someone so lazy, Leona got quite the energy when it comes to you.
“Fuck” he hushed on your ear. Hips moving and cock drilling your cunt as you pathetically blabbered, pleading to whoever pitiful deity the sevens knows for what. It never ceased to amuse him how much you got lost when he hammered inside of you. ”Fucking missed that greedy cunt” Leona whispers while he bottomed out, draggin his cock agonizingly slow all the way inside you, caressing a handfull of your butt, a small gesture of tenderness while his barbs scratched your gummy walls. All the stress after so many Magical Shift practices now buried deep in his mind while he pounded on you. Leona let a low grunt when felt how good and snuggly fit he was inside of you, looking at your precious juices that coated that all over his tan skin, girthy cock streching your poor cunt wide.
Leona took a little peek again and had to hold himself to not cum, his cock twitched at the pretty sight of your pussy holding him in like a vice. ”Oh, look at you” he coos “someone missed me that much?” he punctuated his words with a deeper thrust making your choke on your own spit and muffle your moan on his hand. The smell of your arousal tickled his nose, his mind full of you. The arrogant lion put a hand in between your legs to rub your clit, being mean enough to grab a hold of your mound and let a cauculated slap that made you tighteen around his dick, letting a low noise between a hum and a moan, a cocky smirk adorning his lips.
Your hands rasping at the trunk of one of the trees on the botanical garden, legs parting just for him, his pretty little herbivore. Every sharp and deep thrust making that knot inside of your loins tighten so much to the point it would snap anytime soon, tears prickled your eyes at the overstimulation, but you loved, how couldn't you?
”Ah, ah, we don’t noises coming out do we? So be quiet. Unless you want to get that mouth working.” he mutter rocking his hips harder this time. You should be ashamed of how sloppy you were, really. If anyone was closer they probably would’ve heard the slick sounds of your dripping pussy by now.
”Gonna get a bit mean now love, be prepared” He muttered and kissed your hair, holding your arms for leverage as he started to piston his hips again, the sound of his hips slapping against your asscheks was music to his ears, he almost felt bad for not recording it. Anytime now the bell would ring and your little time together would be over, so he had to be fast. Leona bottomed out again letting you take a breath and started to fuck you harder and faster, one hand travelling to your midsection to steady you while other grabbed your chin towards his direction, kissing your to muffle down the desperate and boderline pornographic sounds that leave your mouth.
He part the kiss and hisses out, eyes closed and his hips dont fucking stop, and he swear he can almost taste your release in the air when he lick his lips, the knot on your tummy is about to snap, your abdomen twitch, your toes curl, and it feel so, so good and its almost there… just a little bit more and—
Leona get his cock out and grunt, breaking your orgasm and you look behind almost growling while he hold he base of his beastman cock, angry tip swollen and letting globs os precum falling on the ground.
”Leona what the fu—?” You rasp and he grab your face interrupting you and kissing your sloppy. His tongue making your legs tremble as he part the kiss and grab a hold of your thighs lifting you up, his face is some tones reddish, his pupils blown and his fangs rasps dangerously on your neck as he inhales your scent, aligning his cock on your entrance again.
MDNI ! i have two words - PANTY. STUFFING. he goes feral, thanks. established relationship. implied freaky af sex life. enjoy~
Panty stuffing with Enjin is you stuffing whatever garment you’re wearing for the day inside his mouth while getting frisky with him because for the love of god and anything holy the man cannot shut up when you get him going. And he’s not low voiced or quiet about it either - dirty talk, singing his praises about how good you’re taking his cock or just groaning like his life depended on it, it's like he wants everyone to hear how good he’s getting.
The first time you’d done it, he had already shoved you on your knees, pretty lips puckered around the weeping head of his thick cock. Not even a few minutes since you began slobbering on his twitching length, he’s already hissing and moaning about shit baby, so fuckin’ good, look at that mouth swallowing me up, takin’ me allll the wayy back- trained you good right? Just for my cock mghmm-
And listen, it wouldn’t have been a problem, not when you loved to hear him loud and messy when you two fucked. Listening to him lose his shit like he’s the one with a dick up his hole gets you hot, the kind of arousal that burns through your brain cells and turns you into a maniac determined to draw more of those noises out of him- except, Enjin has no restraint and you’d rather really not get caught moaning around his dick while he fucked your throat.
So what you did when he was fisting your hair and groaning like a pornstar was to pull off his slick length, stand up and take off your drenched panties. The action had been almost autopilot, derived from the times where Enjin nosed at your panties while he urged you to lock your legs around his head, eye rolling and breathing you in while his tongue tried to make out with your clit through the fabric. Enjin barely had time to murmur in confusion, dazed, his noises cut short when you promptly shoved the wet panties in his mouth.
The reaction was instantaneous. A muffled- but loud enough to pass through the makeshift gag- groan escaped him, head spilling back as his cock twitched against the meat of your thigh, thick fingers on your waist turning tight. The sight of him becoming unmade by the gesture got you clenching, drenched between the slick skin of your thigh, absolutely filthy. You couldn’t do anything but yelp when Enjin switched your positions- you suddenly arched against the wall of wherever alley he snuck you two in, cheeks pressed against a grimy wall that you would’ve bitched about if you were in the right mind but all you could’ve think of at that moment was the sensation of his cock gliding between the wet mess of your folds, his hands bruising a print on your waist and your panty soaked with the saliva that’s currently dripping out of Enjin’s mouth.
A glance from your shoulder got you whimpering. Enjin’s stare was hot enough to melt, wild in the eyes, your panties gritted between his teeth and a noticeable bulge in his cheeks. You were as wild as him, just as insatiable, but this was the first time you felt a little intimated with how hungry he looked.
A grunt, his noises somehow only slightly muffled, Enjin didn’t fuck into you. Instead, he held your hips and pulled you on his cock, a slow drag that got you moaning like you’re the one who needs to be gagged, back arched and feeling every inch of his thick, veined, pierced cock. Your eyes already rolled back by the time he started really thrusting, his noises gagged but somehow still loud, nearly drowned by the slop slop slop of your cunt greedily sucking his dick in.
When he bends over you, clothes slick with sweat, your back to his chest, his left fingers hone on your clit like they’ve got trackers while his right ones found a home in your mouth, salt exploding on your tongue while he fingered the wet heat pass your lips the same way the prince albert piercing on his bell tip dick kissed your cervix. Like this, you hear him better. What used to be pornographic noises are reduced to guttural groans, deep vibrations from his chest that shakes you to the bone more than the large cock drilling into you.
He's an animal on top of you, hips slamming hard on the soft meat of your ass, his body bowed to meet your arched back. You can’t make out his words, incoherent rough noises that sound like it came from a shredded voice box. It didn’t matter though, not really. It wasn’t like you had any more brain capacity to comprehend what he was saying, not with how he’s rearranging your guts and carving your pussy open worse than he usually does.
Was shoving your panties in Enjin’s mouth efficient and effective? No, because you’re damned sure it just made him louder. Would you do it again? Absolutely. Maybe you’ll choke him the next time you ride him, just to see if that’d be enough to knock the noises back to his constricting throat.
“this character can’t/shouldn’t be trans because it doesn’t have a purpose or serve their narrative” god who the fuck cares. sometimes people are just trans.
And all of this is done out of greed, apparently (despite the fact that constantly releasing and "abandoning" games is a terrible business move that won't actually make you any money)
What ACTUALLY happened:
OM Team makes the original OM game
Game absolutely blows up, the servers become overloaded and are unable to keep up with the volume of players
Servers become too outdated to continue using long term
OM Team makes Nightbringer, giving the OM franchise room to grow again, and using servers that aren't nearly as obsolete and overtaxed
Meanwhile, the parent company (NTT Corp) spends multiple years making atrocious business decisions and mismanaging their subsidiaries, including Solmare
NTT Corp makes extremely bullshit decision to wrap up the OM games because they no longer want to fund the development of otome games AT ALL
OM Team is forced to make a hasty and unplanned conclusion to NB's main story, leaving the OM franchise in an uncertain position going forward
OM Team doesn't want to let the OM franchise die, promises to still release new content and projects
OM Team finds other game dev studios to collaborate with, and are now making a new OM game so that the franchise can keep living
OM Team takes fan demand into serious account, and heavily priorities romance in the new game, with deeper and more intimate relationships (something the fans have been begging for)
And this is all factual. This info has been confirmed by the old mods/staff of the official OM Discord, as well as multiple data miners who were able to see firsthand how outdated and overburdened the servers actually are. NTT Corp's business moves are very public and can easily be viewed online. None of this is a secret.
I'm not saying that the games are above criticism, or that nobody is allowed to have opinions about the new game coming out. All of that is fine. But there's a huge difference between an opinion, and outright misinformation. And the OM fandom has a huge problem with uncritically believing misinformation at face value and repeating it/spreading it around - which is at both the games AND the fans' detriment overall.
18+, mdni. Fuck it, gentle giant Simon because I said so!!!
Gentle giant!Simon who’s got biceps the size of tree trunks and the strength to rival a grizzly bear, but the only thing he uses those muscles for is providing a cushion to rest your head on when you’re lounging in bed together
Gentle giant!Simon whose broad shoulders darken any doorway he happens to come across, but he crams himself into the tiniest corner of a packed subway car in order to leave space for you beside him
Gentle giant!Simon whose massive hands could crush a person’s skull like a piece of rotten fruit, but he’s more interested in carefully stitching up the hole you tore in your favorite jumper yesterday
Gentle giant!Simon who could easily clear the head of a grown man with one simple leap, but he utilizes that towering height of his to make silly faces at you over the tops of the shelves at the bookstore
Gentle giant!Simon whose size 14 feet are probably big enough to cause a major landslide, but he quietly tiptoes around the house when he finds you napping peacefully on the couch
Gentle giant!Simon who’s got a cock like a battering ram, which could inflict real damage if he isn’t patient, but he always makes sure to work you open before having you take him into you
Gentle giant!Simon whose voice is normally all gravel and grit, but it turns smooth as he whispers, “Shhh. It’s okay, lovie. I’ve got you,” when he pushes inside, pausing after every inch to give you a second to catch your breath
Gentle giant!Simon whose palms are rough when they come up to cradle your face, holding you steady while he thrusts, but his kisses are warm and soft when he presses his lips against yours
Gentle giant!Simon who moves cautiously when he’s deep inside you, not wanting to cause you any injury, but his big thumbs still have to swipe away the stray tears that fall from your eyes because of the way you stretch around him
Gentle giant!Simon who could make you scream and thrash and choke on him if he so cruelly desired, but he slowly, reverently makes love to you with nothing short of pure adoration
Just gentle giant!Simon who, if he wanted, could use his size for pain and intimidation and destruction, but he chooses instead to live a soft, sweet life with you.
