#but not without changes to your core

[jaguarys]

I think what makes Sasuke so painful is that there's no way out. There's no way to recover from what happened to him. There's just no way to exist after your entire family is killed by your favorite person in the entire world.

And then once he learns that it was actually the village's fault? Now the only solace he had. The only place he thought was safe. Is just as tainted. Just as culpable. Fucking of course he unravels further. There's just. There's no way to return from that.

Ultimately, that's why the others can't do anything about it. Because what can you say in that instance to comfort this person? To bring them back to the light? There's nothing you can say because it's just too much. There's nothing you can say that can mean anything real or substantial

[voidwelt]

The mispronunciation of Welt's name used to bother me (as it is canonically meant to be based on the German word, so it should be spoken with a harder V sound). I studied German in school, so I had to work myself out of pronouncing it correctly, just so the game pronunciation would stop bothering me.

But as time passes, I sort of come to think, the way the reason for this mispronunciation IRL is the intent being lost in translation (CN doesn't quite have the right syllables for the German pronunciation and EN direction carried this along in HSR), the reason for its mispronunciation in-game could, if you like, also be chalked up to something being lost in translation (in a different way).

I like to imagine Welt Joyce's name is 100% pronounced correctly. (No EN dub exists to prove me wrong). He got the name right from its source, given to him by a German, and mentions as such when he dies, "Welt" for "World" in German. There's no way it's not meant to be pronounced correctly.

When it gets passed down to Yang, the meaning is still there, but the interpretation is muddied through the inherent perception filter of a young person (as is his interpretation of the duty as a whole). He sees Joyce bleed out against the concrete to save a city and he internalises this as the legacy and the "burden" of Welt. The German word becomes a gifted Title that represents protecting the World first and foremost, and then as its bearer takes off to the stars, off of that original world, in an attempt to save others, it's even further divorced from its original language context.

When Welt describes the meaning of his name to Sunday, he's come up with his own, adjusted and extended definition for it. He's expanded onto it with his own thoughts, influenced by the Trailblaze and how many lives he's come into contact with. "Each person is a world unto themselves, with as many possibilities as the distant stars." (paraphrased)

(He also says some stuff about how the Trailblaze doesn't end when you leave the Express, so it really makes me think of how he might think of... Ahem. Anyway, back to topic.)

Ultimately, Welt Joyce and Welt Yang have the same first name/title in text and in writing, but...

If they're pronounced differently, it just goes to show, that no matter how hard Welt (Yang) attempts to personally embody his hero in all that he does, how hard he tries to carry this legacy in its purest form, they're ultimately still different people, with different experiences, with different souls.

Or, I could just be looking too much into a minor flaw in the translation process! Isn't that the fun of thinking too hard about things? Should we run Mr. Yang over with our shared car? We have to do something about this

[aggressivelybicaptainamerica]

I am in a terrible flare today and thinking about chronic pain!JGY

We know because of his weak cultivation that he doesn't heal the way other cultivators do and unless it happened off screen I don't think he got any substantial medical care. I don't know if we get an exact list of injuries he received, but being pushed all the way down 72 stairs is going to REALLY fuck someone up, especially because he had a head wound. There's no way he's not going to be in chronic pain after an attack like that. Even with non magical medical care that would leave permanent damage.

So imagine JGY with TBI triggered migraines that steal his memory and his ability to do anything but lie in the dark. Bones that never set quite right that flare and ache during every storm and every time the seasons change. A shoulder that is too weak to hold a true sword due to ligament damage causing the joint to sit incorrectly.

Every time he hurts he remembers how unworthy he is, that his now broken body is just another failure he has to figure out how to overcome with cunning and guile because at the end of the day he's a useless, broken son of a whore. There is no escape when even his own body reminds him of what he truly is.

[sea-buns]

Holy fuck, man. What a trip Fearne has been on, huh?

You tell her how grateful you are to have her in your life, you flatter her, you tell her you need her, that you have to do this together. You have her make a promise that has this woman, born of chaos and fey, agreeing through shaking hands and a trembling voice.

You make her deceive your friends; you make her follow where they cannot know; you make her help you into this contraption; you make her feed this thing into you despite the fact that you both have been warned extensively of the risks. You make her watch you crumble and splinter and shatter and fracture and burst and implode. You make her watch you die, over and over and over and over, for a minute in agonizing bullet time.

You make her do all these things, because when she tries to back out, when she tries to not be the one who let you do this—how could you do this—

you tell her, "YOU PROMISED."

Because if there's one thing you know, it's that the fey do not break a promise.

[typha-latifolia]

coming out of my hole momentarily to post this bc i'm so tired of seeing arguments against the dantayin theory having nothing holding them up except "i don't want ayin to be dante" or "it doesn't fit what i think" like please. sometimes the truth is uncomfortable and we don't like it. i will take the haters seriously once they step up holding some cold hard objective facts in their hands instead of "that's what i want"

[t-u-i-t-c]

@userdramas ♢ event 17: plot twist ♢ │ kento's return

"The future has already been decided." "That can't be true."

[bitchthefuck1]

i'm sorry but there's just no universe where i'm gonna care about Frank Castle

[ghostlysleuth]

me after finding the motivation to go to the gym every 3-4 weeks: oh boy i can't wait to work on my shoulders n arms AGAIN

[lawboymagicshow]

02x20: What Is and What Should Never Be, Supernatural

[subconsciousmysteries]

The so called "unique duality of type 6 that no other type has" really isn't that special once you actually LTR. Whether a 6 is a Rebel or a Conformist they are fixated on the same thing: Faith. Finding or creating a framework that explains reality, to give them Faith that they are ready to experience reality. Not realizing that the experience is inauthentic when it is done through the lens of a mental framework, and they don't actually need a framework for everything to be alright, they already have the power to experience reality without dying.

Typing someone as a 6 because they are a rebel or a conformist is WRONG! Other types have this same duality between rebel and conformist too. It's called being a human being and facing the dilemma between doing what is right and doing what is easy. It's the dichotomy between growth and stagnancy. Every type has its own version of it. To name one example 7 has a dichotomy between being a dumb consoomer (conformist) and being a disciplined visionary (rebel). I could go on forever.

There must be the primary fixation on Faith and building intellectual belief systems to explain reality, and an intense sense of fear and lostness without this belief system solidly intact. Or else it is not a 6.

Also there's no geometric reason for any type on the enneagram other than 9 to be a unique snowflake so please just stop trying to make snowflake 6 happen. It is never going to happen.

[gladiius]

tag dump 1/?

[neverendingford]

.

[holeforzenin]

𝜗𝜚˚⋆ TOJI LOVES YOUR CUNT EVEN MORE AFTER YOU GAVE BIRTH

Tw - Pussy & ass eating, prone bone, daddy kink, heavy breeding. Lots of dirty talk tbh, praising. Toji lowkey goes crazy. Not proofread.

You don’t quite understand the obsession but you don’t mind it either. The moment you place your baby in his wooden crib and sink into the living room couch, savoring the precious little time you have before your baby boy wakes up again.

Toji’s kneeling behind you. Both of his broad hands gripping your soft cheeks, tantalizingly spreading them apart— desperately trying to gain the best access to your little holes as much as possible.

You’re trying to relax into the warm fluffy pillows, trying to catch your breath but Toji doesn’t let up— he’s buried between your thighs, his lips and nose gliding over your dripping cunt and puckered hole, shamelessly coating his face in your slick and groaning like a fucking animal as if it’s the best thing in the world.

Toji swears your pussy’s been damn near addictive since you gave birth. He says it’s sweeter, messier— flooding the second he so much as brushes his fingers over you. He’d smirk and tells you he can smell it the moment you get horny, like your cunt’s dripping and calling for him before you even know it yourself.

His breath is hot against your skin, his deep groan sending vibrations straight to your core. “Told ya, sweetheart,” he murmurs, dragging his tongue up the slick seam of your folds, his nose bumping against your clit. “You’re so fucking sweeter now. Like this pussy was made just for me after I knocked ya up”.

You shudder, burying your face into the couch cushion as his hands grip your hips, pulling you closer to his eager mouth. You’re still sensitive—your body changed after giving birth and Toji has been nothing but obsessed with every little difference.

The way your thighs are softer, the way your belly has a gentle curve to it now, the way your cunt practically flutters for him the moment he gets his hands on you. “Fuck,” you whimper, hips jerking as his tongue dips into your entrance, lapping up the wetness that seems to never stop pooling for him.

He hums in satisfaction, the sounds downright filthy as he drinks you up like a man starved.

“You don’t even realize it, do ya?” His voice is husky, dripping with something dark and possessive. “How easy you open up for me now. How much hungrier this cute pussy is”.

He presses a kiss to your swollen clit, grinning against you when your body trembles. “Bet I could slip in right now without a fight. So damn wet for me”.

Your face burns but the heat pooling in your belly is undeniable. You don’t understand it— why he’s so obsessed, why his hunger for you has only intensified after you gave birth. But the way he devours you, the way he worships every inch of your body makes it too impossible to care.

“Toji,” you gasp, fingers gripping the couch as his tongue flicks against your clit in teasing little strokes, his pace deliberately slow. He wants to savor this, wants to draw it out and you know he won’t stop until you’re shaking from overstimulation.

“Yeah, baby?” His voice is muffled as he buries his face deeper between your thighs, groaning like he’s addicted to your taste. “Go on, tell me how much you love it when Daddy eats your pretty pussy”:

He presses a few affectionate kisses to your messy clit and leaky entrance, drawing cute little whimpers and hums from you before his hands spread you wider, thumbs digging into the plush of your ass as his tongue trails higher, circling the tight ring of muscle.

You stiffen, a shiver rolling down your spine as his hot breath fans against your most sensitive spot. “Daddy— mmph, m’sensitive there!”.

“Relax baby,” Toji rasps, pressing wet kisses along the curve of your ass. “Already know how much this tight little hole loves me”.

Your breath catches when he licks a slow, teasing stripe over your rim, his tongue warm and slick as he coats you in his spit. He groans deep in his chest like he’s savoring the taste like he’s getting off on knowing how vulnerable you are beneath him.

“You never used to let me touch you here,” he muses between wet licks, his fingers gripping your hips, digging into your skin, and keeping you exactly where he wants you. “Now look at you— spread open, and winking against my tongue”.

A whimper escapes you as he flicks the tip of his tongue over the tight ring, pressing just enough to make you clench. He chuckles at your reaction, his fingers kneading the flesh of your ass as he works his tongue in slow savoring circles.

“Fuck,” you whisper, trying not to make too much noise in fear of waking up your baby. You buried your face further into the couch cushions, your body betraying you as your hips arch into his hungry mouth.

Toji hums in satisfaction, his tongue pressing more insistently against you now, licking and prodding until your walls flutter. The sensation is foreign but toe-curling all the same. His spit drips down to your already-soaked cunt, mixing with your arousal as he devours you like he can’t get enough.

“Should’ve been doing this sooner,” he groans, pulling back just enough to admire the way your hole twitches, shiny with his spit. “So fucking pretty like this. All mine”.

His words send a rush of heat straight to your core and when he dives back in, lapping and sucking, making a filthy mess of you— you can’t do anything but take it, your body melting under his relentless tongue.

And if the two of you are lucky enough to get more time alone, he’s pinning you down and climbing on top of your helpless body, fucking you deep in a rough prone bone, your soaked pussy squelching loudly with every thrust.

While he’s gently stroking your hair, whispering the filthiest sweet nothings like he’s not currently stuffing you full and dragging more cum out of your messy, overstretched hole and leaking down his cock and coating his thighs.

He fucking loves the mess you make— thick cream smeared all over the base of his fat cock, dripping down and matting into his curly pubic hair. It’s so filthy and proof to him of just how good he makes you feel— how wrecked you are for him.

He grinds in slow, deep circles just to watch it spread more, a low groan rumbling from his chest as he mutters, “Look at that, baby… all fucking mine”. And with you laid out flat beneath his big, muscular figure, helpless in prone bone— there’s nowhere for you to run.

He’s got a palm pressed firmly between your shoulder blades, pinning you down like the fucktoy you are, grinding his cock deep into your used sloppy cunt.

“Fuckin’ tight cunt,” he growls, rutting into you harder and rougher now like he’s trying to mold his shape into your body all over again. “Fuckkk, You’d think one kid would be enough but this greedy cunt’s begging me for another”.

He presses his chest flush to your back, hips grinding in deep, letting you feel every inch as he rolls his hips just right— thick and mean like he’s made to breed. “Carried my baby once, didn’t you? Took every drop and swelled up all pretty. You were made for it. This pussy was made to take my seed”.

You whimper, trembling beneath him and he just laughs— low, dark, and possessive. “Already stretched you out once and you still get this fucking tight around me. You want another, don’t you? Want daddy to stuff you full again till this pussy swallows it all and you’re knocked up and waddling around with my next one?”.

He slams back in hard, groaning at the wet slap of your bodies. You can barely answer— your body is too overwhelmed by the pounding rhythm, your pussy so full, so stretched from the first fat load he gave you.

But he doesn’t care. He just wants more. Wants to feel you swell up again, wants to see you overflowing full of his seed, a reminder that you belong to him and only him.

He shifts his hips, pounding harder and deeper, grinding his cock around your sensitive, already abused walls. His heavy, cum-filled balls slap against your sloppy cunt as he groans. “Gonna fill you so full that you won't be able to walk straight after this”.

He grins wickedly as he feels the way your body twitches around him. He knows you’re close— he could expertly feel the tension building in your cunt, the way your body is ready to take everything he has to offer. “Say it,” he demands, his voice rough and dark. “Say you want another. Say you want me to fuck another cute little baby into you”.

You don’t need to be told twice. Your words are a broken plea, desperate and eager. “Mmm— Please, want another… p-please fill me up again, fuck wanna carry your baby again, daddy”.

That’s all he needs. He slams into you one last time, pushing deep and letting out a low growl as he empties into you, filling your cunt with his hot, thick cum. His grip tightened on your hips as he spills every last drop.

He fucks you through it, dragging out the orgasm and making sure you’re full. When he finally stops, he’s still breathing hard, sweat decorating his chest as he pulls out slowly, watching his cum spill from your hole before he plugs his tip back in.

“That’s right,” he breathes, his voice rough and husky. “Gonna keep you full. Gonna keep stuffing you until you carry every single one of my babies”.

After, with a tender kiss on your forehead, he slips out of bed, moving around to get you water, snacks and whatever you need. He lets you relax and recover while he takes care of the baby for the rest of the day.

It’s a quiet, peaceful moment— nothing but his soothing presence and the soft sounds of him playing with your baby boy in the next room. You can rest and do whatever you need to recharge, knowing he’s got everything handled while his next baby is in the process.

[chanelrolls]

Code Overload | Caleb

tags. mdni, nsfw, heavy heavy smut, handjob, blowjob, penetration, creampie, forced and rough sex, dub con, yearning caleb

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

notes. prepare a snack. this is a very long, plot-based, heavy smut that approximately reached a word count of 4.3k, read at your own risk. ps. caleb might appear a little ooc due to his character as an ai.

part 2 here.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No. Focus.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Recalibration in progress. Estimated completion: 24 hours.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Right into him.

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

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

Don't. Do. It.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He looks up at you, which was a mistake.

Designed to fuck her.

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

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

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

The panel displayed a single line of text:

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silence.

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

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

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

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

Choose. You have to choose.

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

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

"Yes." Oh, you're brave.

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

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

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

You gasped.

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

"Are you sure?" He whispered.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Caleb needed more.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don't remember adding the ability to dirty curse into the sex bot's program.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Then, again.

And again.

And... in again.

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

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

He growled your name, his voice nothing more than a guttural rumble. "I'm going to... fuck, I'm going to..." He couldn't hold back any longer, he could feel that something was going to come out of his tip anytime sooner. So he reaches down, grabbing your leg, only to lift it high. He hooked your knee over his elbow, opening them wider, giving himself even deeper access to your dripping, needy sex.

"Take it all, take my cum," Caleb continuously slams forward, burying himself to the hilt inside your tight heat in a series of desperate thrusts like he was a man depraved of life. His penis throbbed and jerked as he finally found his release after one final pound, spilling jet after jet of hot, artificial seed deep into your core.

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

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

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

[eraserbread]

that first trimester was terrible... but, your husband, nanami, swears the second one is personal

"kento?" you whisper, shaking his wide frame in your arms. he worked all day, so he has every right to his sleep, but you couldn't calm the throbbing between your legs. it's come back with a vengeance after your time in the shower this morning with him, and now you couldn't settle. kento doesn't budge.

"please." you try again, whining in his ear and squeezing the flesh of his chest. "I love you so much... p-please." beads of cold sweat have began to form on your skin, reacting to the throbbing deep inside of you.

where you can't see, kento opens his eyes at once. remaining stoic in your arms. you're humping against his leg, whining sweetly into his back. he lets you, too tired to move.

"can we do it? please?" kissing over his rippling back, the skin blooms red in the darkness of the night bedroom.

if he were a bit more awake, kento would understand and be a bit sweeter, but he was exhausted. "this can't wait until the morning?" he grumbles, still so thoughtful and quiet in his daze.

you won't lie and say his tone didn't strike you, so instead of kissing him again, you press your forehead into his shoulder and pull away.

swinging your legs over the side of the bed, you take a second to catch your breath, whining softly in your throat as the change of position makes your core tremble and cry out for help. you're crushing your thighs together, head hanging between your shoulders as kento drifts back off.

overcome, horny and emotional, you start crying. sniffling and hiccuping in your fist. It felt like every vein in your body was screaming for release, and it's painful.

of course, kento can't truly fall back asleep when you're crying next to him, pitiful and whiny because you refuse to bother him further. he'd have to bother himself, he comes to terms when he sits up, peeling his eyes open again.

"don't cry, now i feel bad." he's muttering, closing his palm over his face to rub some sense back to his features.

"g-go back to sleep." you whimper, wiping at your tears just for more to fall. "I'm sorry, I hate bothering you."

"come here, it's fine. i know what you need." kento refuses to look at a clock -- he refuses to see how much sleep he's losing. it's a problem he'd face five hours from now, not when you're a sniffling mess at his bedside.

"really?" there's a tinge of hope there, excitement buried under your pitiful tone as you turn over your shoulder. he's shirtless, staring back at you through the dim moonlight. hair ruffled, eyes low, lips pressed together. grumpy and sleepy. but, as your eyes trail down his body, you can see the hardened lump in his underwear, peeking from the blankets.

you crawl to him.

straddling his lap is so familiar, kissing down his neck - letting your sweet skin drag across his shaved stubble feels right. he's genuinely letting you do all the work right now, yawning every few seconds as you attack another area of his skin in kisses.

you're starving -- grinding on his thick erection with a drunken fervor. he thinks your eagerness is cute, endearing in the right situations. not when he's so tired.

and you see that just enough to take advantage of it.

sure, he was dozing off, but the second he feels your teeth latch around his nipple, he's shooting them open.

"now, this is just pointless," he grunts, closing his hands over your hunched shoulders as you're sucking and biting at his reddening nipple. you're moving like you're trying to spout milk from him -- left hand massaging his left pec.

"nooo. i wanna."

kento's pulls a hand back to his face, bunching it in a fist as he lets you have your way. if you weren't five months pregnant, he'd throw you back down on the bed and press you so stupid with his cock that you had no choice but to cum, then fall right back asleep.

so, yes -- this was a sticky situation. he wouldn't manhandle his pregnant wife. not without a dangerously guilty conscience to deal with in the morning.

but once you had your fill, pulsating lips switching from nipple to swollen nipple, laced with a handful of his thick, delicious muscle, you pull away and kiss lower. that little dip in attention has kento wrapping his arms around your waist, digging his fingers into the skin as he grabs and pushes you off of him.

you squeak, not expecting such a drastic change. laying out on your side, arms splayed to catch some footing, he's kneeling over you. a hand shoves into the front of his briefs, swallowing a groan as his suffocated cock springs free.

"would you just behave?" that patience is dwindling now as he crawls in behind you. he's shivering slightly, teasing the bead of pre back against the flushed tip of his cock. you're flicking between the lewdness and the look on his face, heart pummeling when you see him bite over his bottom lip.

"y-yes... please put it in." your voice is wrecked, lips tingly and red. he mounts you, long legs splayed behind as he blindly makes that familiar descent between your thighs, trailing against your ass and dipping into your sopping, messy cunt.

he sighs, neck twitching as you slurp him up like you've never been fed before. pregnancy sex is just so different -- so lewd with you and your crying body. there's so much fluid, a mess of slick coating yours and his thighs.

so, it takes nothing -- i mean, nothing, for him to coax that first messy orgasm out of you, and you're squirting everywhere. screaming his name like you're on the verge of death, and he's the culprit.

his big hand clenches onto one of your thighs, fucking you into the wet sheets like a dog as he eases all that cum out of you.

when you're done and dumb with pliancy, you're rolling back over kento when he settles in his spot. your side of the bed is soaked, so you spend all night sleeping right on top of him, belly smushed into his and legs twisted together.

you would definitely hear about this uncomfortable situation tomorrow before he shrugs off to work. you'll also definitely jump his grumpy, tired bones as soon as he steps foot through the front door that evening. you're smiling at nothing anymore, finally satiated and sleepy enough to drift off to dreams about kento and your baby.

[rafeovermorals]

overstimulating joel until he cums. again.

content: oral (m receiving), joel is 61 and has a hard time keeping up with his much younger girlfriends sex drive, use of daddy, slight dubcon

a/n: this is how im choosing to cope with this scene, okay? i can’t help that he looks hot as fuck.

joel was too worn out to move.

chest heaving, mouth quivering, all he could do was lay there and watch you take from him.

you were such a greedy lil’ thing, one round was never enough. so eager and needy. always wanting more, like you wouldn’t last a day without his cock.

he kept up with you as best as he could for a man his age, making sure to stay in shape so he that maintained his stamina, but it only got him so far.

it was a guilty reminder— he was old. you were young. nothin’ he could change about that. he already ran through the small supply of viagra he was able to get ahold of weeks ago, which left him at your mercy.

even after a long day of patrol he came home and fucked you every night, just like you wanted. what was left of his energy he thrusted deep into your cunt with his seed to prove it, giving you a kiss on the cheek before pulling out and turning onto his back to go to sleep.

it had been a while since you went down on him. he didn’t have much control on when or how often he got hard, so when he was he used those moments inside of you.

except joel didn’t realize how much you missed him in your mouth, so badly that you needed it.

as he rolled off of you to his side of the bed, you noticed how his cock was flushed— coated with your juices and his cum. he was softening but stayed big, thick in girth with graying hairs at the base.

he didn’t have the chance to recover before you had his cock in your hand, sitting on your knees and holding him straight as you licked the shaft.

“baby… what’re y’doin?” he asked timidly, still attempting to control his breaths from cumming just a minute or two prior. you simply responded with a hum, looking up at him through your lashes as you swirled your tongue— tasting yourself on him.

you placed a kiss on his tip, his cock reacting with a throb that pulsed in your grasp. “alright, that’s enough.” he spoke low, a quavering warning for you to stop— but his tone lacked in confidence.

“let me have this, daddy.” as if he had a choice.

you took him into your mouth, lips curling around his cock as you watched his face twist from the sensation.

fucking hell, you were going to be the death of him.

he clenched his jaw, teeth grinding while he tried to hold himself back— hold you back. he pushed at your head, attempting to shove you with what little control he had left, but you didn’t budge. you only went further, inching his cock deeper down your throat. he was forced into submission.

joel was so sensitive that he whined from the mix of pain and pleasure, the line blurring the more you swallowed him. “i don’t have anythin’ left in me, honey... gave you of it already.” he told you slow, his voice trembling.

you moaned in defiance, mouth stuffed full of his length. you brought a free hand to his balls, giving them a gentle squeeze which made him nearly whimper. you pull away, spit dribbling from the corners of your lip. “can feel that you still got some in here, just gotta get it out, daddy. it’ll feel so much better.”

he clenched his jaw, teeth grinding together as you continued to suck him— bobbing at a teasing speed while you massaged the rest of his length at the same time. he twitched his hips, his body defying his words.

it felt so good that it was hurting him. your throat was beginning to burn due to lack of recent experience, but you were determined for it.

“just couldn’t wait, huh? so cock drunk that y’had to use your old man like this, knowin’ im vulnerable?” you nodded, that familiar ache in your core returning.

he was thinking of all the ways to punish you once you were done— ready to spank you until you cried, maybe edge you if he was feeling mean. he would find a way to make you pay.

joel was determined to give you one more load since you went through all of this to get it. he couldn’t disappoint his girl.

he was so numb that he couldn’t even feel himself getting ready to cum, his eyes glossy and in a state of haze at the sight of you drooling on his thighs.

the warm, soft flesh of your cheeks hollowing in on him brought him to his release, spilling hot, creamy ropes on the pad of your tongue. whenever you thought he was done it didn’t stop— drops still leaking out after you finished.

“better lick me dry honey. since you wanted it so damn bad.”