#idk if i hate this or love this...

[bananasplit133]

more of that after the fall conquest fic pretty please 😈 (idk if u do it, but if u do could it be 18+/smutty please?)

(SORRY IF THE SMUT PART IS KIND OF... AWKWARD; I DONT USUALLY WRITE THAT KIND OF STUFF...)

After The Fall (PART 2)

here's part 1 !!!

Conquest/Reader

-------

Days passed since your last encounter with Conquest, but the memory of his kiss lingered, igniting something within you that refused to fade. You threw yourself into your work, but every thought seemed to lead back to him—his overwhelming presence, the raw power he exuded, and the way he challenged you.

Then one evening, as twilight cast long shadows across the wreckage, you felt the familiar weight in the air before you saw him. Conquest hovered a few feet above the ground, the last rays of sunlight reflecting off his flowing white clothing. His one good eye locked onto yours, and a shiver ran down your spine.

“Bold one,” he rumbled, his voice low and inviting. “You thought I wouldn’t return.”

“I didn’t think you’d come back so soon,” you replied, trying to sound steady, though your pulse quickened at his presence.

His lips curled into a smirk, and he descended slowly, landing just inches from you. “You intrigue me more than I anticipated. Your defiance is… refreshing.”

You stood your ground, heart racing. “I’m not afraid of you, Conquest. If you’re here to intimidate me again, it won’t work.”

He stepped closer, his imposing figure casting a shadow over you, the heat radiating from his body intoxicating. “Intimidation is not my goal, yet you seem to enjoy playing with fire.”

You felt your breath hitch as he leaned in, the air thick with tension. “Do you think you can challenge me? You’re aware that strength is all that matters in this world?”

“Strength isn’t just about power,” you shot back, but your voice wavered slightly under the intensity of his gaze. “It’s about the ability to inspire others, to unite them.”

A low chuckle escaped his lips, deep and resonant. “Inspiration is weak. Fear is what holds people together. You’ve seen what I can do.”

“Fear won’t keep them loyal,” you countered, heart racing. “They’ll resent you for it.”

Conquest’s expression shifted, curiosity flickering in his eye. “And what would you suggest, little spitfire? That I rule with kindness?”

“No,” you said, feeling emboldened. “But there are ways to lead without destroying everything. You could find strength in unity, not just conquest.”

His gaze narrowed, amusement playing at the corners of his mouth. “You’re playing a dangerous game, challenging my beliefs.”

“Maybe,” you replied, stepping closer, the air between you crackling with tension. “But I’m not here to play nice.”

Suddenly, Conquest surged forward, closing the distance between you. His lips crashed against yours, fierce and demanding, and you gasped against him, feeling the world around you fade away. The kiss was nothing like the first; it was raw, full of hunger and power, and you melted into him, unable to resist the heat that surged between you.

He pulled back slightly, his breath hot against your skin, his gaze dark and intense. “You tempt fate by standing so close to me,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly.

“Maybe I like tempting fate,” you replied breathlessly, feeling bold. “Maybe I want to see how far you’ll go.”

His eyes gleamed with a predatory hunger, and he captured your lips again, this time with a desperation that sent a thrill coursing through you. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss, his hands gripping your waist possessively.

“Such fire,” he growled against your mouth. “It amuses me. But you should understand your place.”

“Maybe I don’t want to know my place,” you challenged, heart racing as his hands traveled down your sides, igniting your skin with every touch.

“You think you can resist me?” he asked, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes, a smirk dancing on his lips. “You’re merely a distraction in my path to power.”

“Then maybe I’ll be the distraction that conquers you,” you shot back, a mix of defiance and desire swirling within you.

He chuckled darkly, the sound sending a thrill down your spine. “You’re playing a dangerous game, little one. But I find it… entertaining.”

With that, he surged forward again, his mouth crashing against yours as he backed you against a crumbling wall. His hands gripped your hips tightly, pressing you into the cool surface as he deepened the kiss. You felt the power radiating from him, the raw energy that threatened to consume you.

“Do you think you can stand against me?” he growled, his lips brushing against your ear, sending shivers through your body. “You’re a spark in the darkness, but I am the storm.”

Your breath hitched at his words, and you felt the rush of adrenaline and desire swirl within you. “I don’t fear your storm,” you replied, voice steady despite the chaos of emotions surging inside.

“Then perhaps you deserve to see how the storm can consume you,” he murmured, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze, his eye gleaming with dark intent.

You stared at him, caught between the thrill of fear and the exhilaration of desire. Conquest was a force of nature, and you were drawn to him like a moth to a flame. “Show me,” you challenged, heart racing.

His lips curved into a wicked smile, and he leaned in again, kissing you fiercely, claiming you with a power that left you breathless. In that moment, you knew this was just the beginning—a dangerous game of power and desire that would draw you deeper into his world.

And as he pulled you closer, you realized you were no longer just challenging him. You were willingly stepping into the storm, ready to face whatever came next.

—

Conquest’s lips crashed against yours again, igniting a fire deep within you. The kiss was primal, his mouth moving against yours with a hunger that made your body ache for more. You felt the heat radiating from him, the raw power that drew you in like a moth to a flame.

His hands roamed your body, exploring every curve and contour as he pressed you against the wall, pinning you in place. You gasped as his fingers found the hem of your shirt, lifting it slowly, exposing your skin to the cool air.

“You have no idea what you’re asking for,” he murmured against your lips, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine.

With a swift motion, he stripped your shirt away, leaving you bare before him. The intensity of his gaze burned into you, and you felt utterly exposed yet completely exhilarated. He leaned down, his mouth trailing hot kisses along your collarbone, his breath warm against your skin as he explored you with fervor.

“Such tempting flesh,” he said, his voice thick with desire. “I could devour you whole.”

The thought sent a thrill through you, and you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer as you pressed your body against his. He groaned at the contact, the sound deep and resonant, sending waves of pleasure rippling through you.

Conquest lifted you effortlessly, your body fitting against his as he carried you deeper into the ruins, finding a more secluded spot away from prying eyes. He set you down gently, but his hands were anything but gentle as they gripped your thighs, pulling you closer.

You could feel the heat of his body radiating against yours, the tension between you thickening with every passing moment. As he kissed you again, it was more urgent, more demanding, each touch igniting a fire that consumed you both.

“Tell me what you want,” he commanded, his breath hot against your ear, sending another shiver through you.

“I want you,” you gasped, your body aching for his touch. “I want you to take me.”

“Such boldness,” he chuckled darkly, his hands gripping your waist as he positioned you beneath him. “Very well. Prepare yourself.”

With that, he surged forward, filling you completely in one powerful thrust. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and slight pain as you gasped, your back arching against him. He was relentless, moving with an intensity that made your heart race.

“Do you feel that?” he growled, his voice low and dark as he thrust into you again. “This is power. This is what it means to be conquered.”

You could hardly think, your body responding instinctively to his every movement. You felt alive, every nerve ending ignited as he drove into you with a rhythm that built steadily, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge.

“More,” you pleaded, craving every bit of him. “Don’t hold back.”

He responded with a feral growl, increasing his pace, the force of his thrusts driving you further into the wall. The sound of skin meeting skin filled the air, mingling with your gasps and moans as he claimed you entirely.

“Such a beautiful sight,” he murmured, watching you with a predatory gleam in his eye. “You were made for this.”

With each thrust, you felt the tension building within you, the heat coiling tighter and tighter as pleasure surged through your body. You were lost in the moment, surrendering completely to the overwhelming sensations.

“Let go for me,” he urged, his voice low and commanding. “Show me how much you want it.”

With one final thrust, you spiraled over the edge, the world blurring as waves of pleasure crashed over you. You cried out, the sound echoing in the empty space as your body shook with the intensity of your release.

Conquest followed closely behind, his own release filling you, and you reveled in the heat of the moment. As the waves of ecstasy faded, you found yourself still wrapped in his embrace, breathless and overwhelmed.

He pulled back slightly, a satisfied smirk on his lips as he looked down at you. “You’re even more dangerous than I thought.”

“And you’re not invincible,” you shot back, still caught in the aftermath of what had just happened.

He chuckled, the sound deep and resonant. “Perhaps I underestimated you.”

—---

As the heat of your encounter faded, Conquest looked down at you with a mix of satisfaction and a cold intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. You caught your breath, still feeling the thrill of what had just happened, but a new tension filled the air.

“You’ve impressed me,” he said, his voice low and serious. “But now you must understand, you are coming with me.”

“Coming with you?” you echoed, bewildered. “You mean as a prisoner?”

His smirk was dark and predatory. “Not a prisoner, but mine. You will serve as my pet, a reflection of my power. You will belong to me.”

You felt your heart race at his words, a mix of anger and disbelief coursing through you. “You can’t just take me like that.”

“I can and I will,” he replied, stepping closer, his presence suffocating. “You have something I want: your boldness, your spirit. But in my empire, there will be no room for defiance. You will learn your place.”

“Is that what you think? That I’d just submit to being some trophy for you?” you shot back, trying to maintain your composure.

“Submit? No,” he said, his tone chilling. “You will adapt. There’s power in being by my side, but make no mistake—you will be mine. Your loyalty will be rewarded, but resistance will be met with consequences.”

You swallowed hard, weighing your options. “And if I refuse?”

He leaned in, the heat of his body radiating against yours. “You won’t refuse. You’re already drawn to this. You crave it, even if you don’t realize it yet. Besides,” he added, his voice a low growl, “I don’t give second chances.”

His words hung in the air, heavy with threat and allure. The idea of being his pet—a possession rather than a partner���made your stomach twist, but there was an undeniable thrill at the thought of being claimed by someone so powerful.

“Is that how you treat everyone you conquer?” you asked, defiance rising in your voice despite the fear churning in your gut.

“Everyone I take becomes mine. There’s no choice in the matter,” he replied, his gaze steady and unyielding. “You will be no different.”

You could feel the weight of his words, the reality of what he offered settling in. There was no escaping him. You could either accept your fate or be consumed by it.

“What if I don’t want to be a pet?” you challenged, trying to maintain some semblance of control.

He chuckled darkly, a sound devoid of warmth. “That’s irrelevant. You’ll learn your role in time, whether you like it or not. I’m not asking for your consent; I’m taking what I desire.”

Conquest turned away, his presence still looming large, leaving you feeling exposed and vulnerable. You knew he would take you, that you had already crossed a line from which there was no return.

“Think carefully,” he said over his shoulder, his voice a low rumble. “The offer stands, but the choice is an illusion. I will have you, one way or another.”

As he floated away, the finality of his words hung in the air, a chilling reminder of the path you were on. You were ensnared, caught in the grip of a conqueror who would not let you go.

And deep down, a part of you was undeniably drawn to the power he wielded, the danger of being claimed by someone like him. You had stepped into his world, and now there was no turning back.

-----

[scionsthings]

Rewatching Arcane

[squidflavoredsoup]

mama n her babies

[s0up1ta]

"so grunkle ford how do you know bill?"

"... that's not important."

[calebrity]

separation anxiety

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except, this week he’s… different.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A gasp.

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

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

“Bad dog!”

✦

You sleep on it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ah- Caleb-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Or that you’d leave,” he whispers.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He chuckles, but the humor wanes quickly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

✦

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

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

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

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

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

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

“C-Caleb—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You scream his name. He shivers.

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

“C-Caleb, you-!”

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

“I-It hurts-!”

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

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

“Wha- Caleb, is that even-?”

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

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

[acidicwerewolf]

I need them to do a reboot of House but I want them to just go fucking wild with it. Everyone's gay, everyone's fucking. House, Wilson, and Cuddy are in a toxic polycule, one that definitely violates work ethics, that ends when Cuddy cheats on them with Cameron. I want it to be just as homophobic, just as ableist, just as fucked up, as the original and yet have the characters all be so fucking woke. Same episodes with the same plots but modern. I want Chase to have an onlyfans.

[greenbergsays]

I'm going to say something that will make sense to the Fandom Olds and will probably be slightly controversial to the younger crowds, but I'm going to say it anyways

TPTB becoming increasingly aware of fandom and fanfiction over the past two-ish decades and thus, the spawning of the expectation of your ship going canon has ruined fandom a little bit

I mean, fandom does a great job of ruining itself a lot of the time, but this idea that a ship isn't "real" or "valid" if it isn't canon

or the idea that one ship is superior to the other because one is canon and the other isn't?

it's absolutely bananas

I grew up in an era of fandom where characters didn't even have to be from the same media source to ship them. I mean, do you know how many BtVS/HP crossover fics I read back in the early 2000s???

That shit was never gonna be canon, but we had fun with it, anyways

Like. Yeah, a lot of fanon speculation is bullshit, but it always has been and always will be. You have hundreds and/or thousands of people riffing off each other, the observations and the meta will always be deeper than what TPTB intended, and that's okay! That's what makes it fun!

I just think more people would be a lot happier in their fandom experiences if they realized that fandom is supposed to be an escape instead of a crusade

[chloesimaginationthings]

Everyone “hates” Mike in the FNAF movie..

[casscainmainly]

Duke insulting Jason Todd for no reason oh Duke nation we are so back

[mroddmod]

but i remember everything

[jinaxxo]

to whom do i surrender my heart?

[sinning-with-dragons]

let him go apeshit !! let him go absolutely bonkers, i say !!

[indigo-flowers09]

me and the

the polycule

[tyquu]

Friend mentioned a while back that Lothali people might be descended from Loth cats cause of Ezra’s Sharp teeth and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since. Hera clocks this when she has to de-flea him the first week he’s aboard the ghost and Zeb’s fellow cat brain is going nuts

[legolambi]

peace and love on planet earth

[dreamdripdistance]

smiles :) grins :)