#lab space design | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chanelrolls · 3 months ago

Text

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.

#love and deepspace caleb #love and deepspace #lads caleb #lads #lnds #lnds caleb #caleb #caleb x reader #caleb x mc #caleb x you #caleb smut #lnds x reader #lnds x mc #lnds x you

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aeyumicore · 26 days ago

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caleb finds your prenatal gummies

how does caleb react when he finds the bottle of prenatal vitamins you’ve been taking—but not because you're pregnant?

━ .ᐟ✧ PAIRING: caleb x female reader (afab) ━ ✧.˖ WORD COUNT: 1.9k ━ .ᐟ✧ WARNINGS: none really , pure fluff, but vague mentions of unprotected sex, talks of of pregnancy and having children, use of 'pip-squeak' ━ ✧.˖ LINKS: ao3 | twt

got inspired to write this as i was taking my supplements yesterday :') non-smut for a change ahhhh. enjoy!

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT. I WILL NEVER POST MY FICS ON OTHER TUMBLR BLOGS. I WILL ONLY POST ON THIS ACCOUNT AND ON AO3.

”Always so messy.”

Caleb speaks to himself, voice a low amused mutter as he deftly clears off the kitchen counter. You were staying the weekend in Skyhaven, evident by the random items strewn about his massive home.

Yet, Caleb can’t help but smile as he eyes your belongings carelessly discarded all over his kitchen and living room. Your favorite fuzzy blanket draped over the couch’s armrest, grazing the floor. Your shoes haphazardly taken off by the front door, right next to, but not on, the dedicated shoe rack. Coasters left behind on the kitchen bar, still sticky with dripped apple soda.

You were a menace. But he wouldn’t trade your specific brand of chaos for anything in the entire universe.

You were the one that made this lonely empty house a home, after all.

His grin widens as he remembers just how clean your own apartment in Linkon always is. Naturally, he comes to the conclusion that you only act like this when you know he’s there to pick up after you. To take care of you.

The most important job he’s ever had.

The sound of the shower continues to run upstairs while Caleb tidies up the living spaces. He quickly returns ingredients back to their designated cabinets, abandoned after you so thoughtfully cooked dinner for him last night. As he shuts the cabinet, he sighs, eyes catching sight of the various vitamin bottles you’d left on the counter, nearly hidden by the rice cooker.

He gathers them up in his large palms, finding a spot for them in his own cabinet of medicine and supplements.

One by one, he meticulously puts them onto the shelf.

Omega-3, vitamin C, collagen, creatine, prenatal gummies, vitamin B-12—

Wait.

Prenatal gummies?

Caleb’s violet eyes widen, his breath stuck in his throat, as he reads those red words over and over.

Prenatal gummies for pregnant or nursing women. With folic acid and DHA. Whatever that meant.

His heartbeat quickens as his mind races a mile a minute, his thoughts landing abruptly on the only plausible explanation.

Were you really…pregnant?

Was it possible? Yes.

On more than one occasion, definitely way more times than he could count on two hands, he hadn’t been…careful. You’d begged for it, but he should have known better. It was his job to protect you.

But it’d always been on non-fertile days, or that’s what your little period-tracking calendar had always said.

No, Caleb thinks in a sheer panic. Please no. I can’t be a dad. Not right now. Maybe not ever.

He’d barely been able to protect you at the lab. He couldn’t possibly let down someone else—a child, a baby. Your baby. That you’d made together.

He would not survive failing your child. Through heaven and hell, that is something he’d never be able to recover from.

Caleb runs a shaky hand through his dark brown hair, his normally controlled and collected Colonel’s mask completely and utterly shattered at his feet.

Right now, he was just Caleb, the man who dedicated his entire life, who’d give up anything and everything, to protect you—and would do so until his last breath.

And this Caleb had never been more terrified in his entire life. Through an entire life of experimentation, through traveling the Deepspace Tunnel, through an explosion that nearly claimed his life, he’d never been more scared than he was right now.

Fatherhood.

The world felt like it was closing in on him—every time he’d failed you replaying in the ever expanding black hole that was his mind.

The lab. Losing you during the Chronorift Disaster. Every bully, every knee scraped. Ever. The Toring chip. The list goes on and on.

His chest tightened until he could hardly breathe, his knuckles white with the force at which he gripped the bottle of prenatals.

He wasn’t equipped for this.

And yet…he couldn’t deny how many times he’d thought about this life, with you. A life of mundane and blissful domesticity. No Fleet politics, no Wanderers, no imminent danger at every fucking corner.

A life you’d created together. When he’d grown up thinking there was no such thing. That there would never be a world that the two of you could truly call yours.

“Caleb?”

Your voice pulls him out of his all-consuming thoughts. His head snaps up to see you coming down the stairs, your hair wet, body swimming in one of his big shirts. Your face, beautiful as ever, is laced with concern as you see how uncharacteristically pale he is.

When his eyes meet yours, you can’t help but smile, always so happy to see his face and sparkling nebulous eyes—even when he looked like he’d just seen a ghost. Your smile doesn’t fade as you approach him, palms instinctively coming to rest on his chest when you reach him.

And just like that, he wasn’t so scared anymore.

The thought of a little you running around. With that smile?

A mini version of the most precious thing in his life. One that’d undoubtedly drive him insane with that same attitude he loved so dearly.

That had your laugh as he pointed out different types of planes soaring through the sky. Or your mischievous curiosity as he taught him how to fly his very first jet.

Yeah. He could get used to the idea of that.

“Did something happen? You look like you’re about to be sick,” you raise an eyebrow at him. It’s then he finally releases the plastic bottle of supplements, setting it down on the counter with a soft ‘clack’.

Your eyes immediately drift to the source of the intrusive sound, widening when they see what he was so fixated on.

”Caleb it’s—”

You’re cut off by your own squeal, Caleb’s big palms gently but firmly gripping either side of your waist, pulling you so close you could hear his pounding heart.

“Am I—I mean are we actually…Are you pregnant?”

You can’t help but giggle at his frantic words, stumbling over himself with none of the usual poise and polish of the Farspace Fleet’s revered colonel.

Caleb’s hand moves from your waist to your tummy, his thumb stroking softly against the fabric of his ratty shirt. His palm cups against your naval without thinking, already instinctively providing a protective barrier between the most important things to him and the rest of the world.

”I…I don’t know if I’d be any good at this,” he whispers, nebulous eyes bright with emotion, “I don’t know if I’d be a good dad.”

Your eyes widen at his vulnerable admission, not expecting it in the least. You’d never expressly discussed starting a family that extended beyond the two of you, but it’d always felt like something Caleb wanted. A stark contrast to his words, you always knew Caleb would be an amazing dad, if that was what the two of you decided you wanted.

Before you can interrupt, Caleb continues, “But—God help me…I will never let anything happen to you. Either of you.”

Your heart flutters at the sincerity of his solemn vow, and you find yourself unable to form the words you should say.

”Caleb…you….” you trail off with a gulp, unsure how to verbalize the torrent of emotions you have for this unbelievably incredible man.

“You’d be the best father.” Your quiet whisper rings whole-heartedly, voice thick with adoration and a bubbling anticipation for your future with him.

Caleb watches you with rapt attention, his heartbeat still hammering like the thrum of a hummingbird’s wings amidst the silence between you two. You’re about to open your mouth again—tell him you’re not pregnant, when he picks you up and backs away from the kitchen counter so he can spin you around. His strong hands are secure under your armpits, the smile on his face so effortlessly Caleb.

Behind the thin mist of fear in his eyes, this was the brightest you’d ever seen Caleb.

You can’t help but burst into a fit of giggles, clutching his muscled shoulders.

“Caleb, put me down!” you demand through your unabashed laugh of delight.

”No,” Caleb grins, “You’re never walking anywhere ever again—never lifting a single finger. Not while you’re carrying our baby.” He suddenly swings you so that his arm is hooked under your knees, carrying you like a prince would a princess.

You smile so wide your cheeks hurt, but you know you have to tell him the truth. You couldn’t bear to disappoint him, but what’s worse was giving him false hope.

Reaching up to tenderly cup his face with your hands, your voice shakes, “Caleb…”

Caleb smiles warmly at you, his cheeks leaning into your touch, “Yeah, princess?”

You bite your lip at how adorably he resembles a happy puppy, his earlier fear seeming to have evaporated into pure excitement.

You find tears inexplicably forming in your eyes, grieving a pregnancy that was never even there to begin with. Blinking them back, you rip off the bandaid.

“I’m not pregnant.”

Seeing the befuddled expression in his features, his amethyst eyes squinting with unanswered questions, you continue, “The prenatals aren’t for that. A friend recommended them for my skin. Since work’s been a little stressful and I’ve been breaking out.”

You clutch his jacket, staring at his chest—waiting for him to speak. To express disappointment. Maybe even scold you for letting him believe, even if only for a minute.

“You’re stressed? How come you didn’t tell me? What’s going on at work?”

Caleb only stares at you with genuine concern, still not setting you down, holding you tighter. Your heart hammers at the worry laced in his voice, drowning in emotions that that was what he was most concerned about.

Your troubles.

“N-Nothing serious, it’s just workplace politics—anyways! The point is I’m not pregnant, okay? I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad.”

You can’t stop the apology from tumbling out, even when you know you have nothing to be sorry for. But just seeing how excited he’d been is enough to make you feel like a monster for being the one to squash it.

Caleb sets you down so that you’re sitting on the counter, his thick body positioned between your thighs. Your heart can’t help but sink at the simple action that felt like it signified so much more. That he was disappointed with you.

But suddenly Caleb flicks your forehead with his index finger.

“Hey!”

“Dummy,” he mutters, thumb soothing the area he’d flicked, “Why are you sorry?”

“I—you were so excited,” you say sheepishly, “I probably should’ve mentioned I started taking them before you found them yourself.”

Caleb chuckles, almost in disbelief, hooking your hair behind your ear. Before he can respond, you whisper, “You’re really not mad?”

“How could I be mad?”

His hand abandons the edge of the counter, once again coming to rest over your stomach. His thumb strokes you reassuringly.

“Just knowing that you think I…” he trails off, his own voice murky with emotions.

“That I’d be worthy of being the father of your children.”

You place your hand over his, squeezing gently. It felt almost comical—the two of you in the kitchen, hands pressed over your stomach like there was anything there.

“Besides, I’m not in a rush,” he smiles gently, taking your chin into his fingers and brushing his lips against yours.

“We have a whole lifetime to make our own little pip-squeak.”

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